#but Red Hook seems pretty vocal about one of them not coming back

[the-punforgiven]

The eternal struggle between wanting to hire the bounty hunter because hnnng sexy and huge combo/mark damage vs like, actually wanting to profit off this expedition

#I'm very bad at Darkest Dungeon 2 #That boy carried me through the like one zone I made it through #before everybody died to the black and silver armor guys with their dumb dual lightning rods #idk why the Moonlit Dungeon lookin dudes are such a brick wall for me tbh #like the adventure's going fine and then one encounter with them and everyone's dead #though I also haven't played DD2 much so like idk maybe I just haven't found the right way to fight them yet #I've had it for a while and Darkest Dungeon 1 gave me MASSIVE brainrot but like #idk I guess like #Darkest Dungeon 2 has the same curse as Dark Souls 2 for me it seems #in that I play it once go ''oh man that was pretty fun'' and then forget about it for several months #until I pick it back up get super obsessed for like two days and then forget and the cycle persists ad infinitum #the curse of Cool-Fantasy-Game-With-2-In-The-Title lives on I guess #Pun's text Posts #... idk though maybe it would change if they added back either of the two characters who were My Fuckign Boy in the last game #but Red Hook seems pretty vocal about one of them not coming back

[mckinleyrp]

SO HERE’S WHAT YOU MISSED ON GLEE…

we started with acafellas 1x03, with our homecoming event → we are now following preggers 1x04

with the homecoming game success of mckinley arts, the titans feel even more popular than ever— but come on, is that really true? don’t get too cocky jocks, just because you’re the look of the eye now doesn’t necessarily excuse you from those being in glee club.

DURING THE GAME...

the infamous loser rachel and co-captain kurt were seen hooked on their conversation, of all places; during the homecoming game. feeling a bit threatened by the opposing glee teams, rachel? or are you still upset at the fact you didn’t get another solo to the point you had to complain to kurt?

on the other hand, blaine and sam’s tiktok livestream seemed to look a bit sus. what’s the deal with being ‘best friends’ with your future show choir enemy? unless sam happened to share some OF tips and tricks.

with that being said, dalton academy warblers and vocal adrenaline don't seem threatened by any of the clubs. in fact, watching their fellow rivals perform gives them even more confidence knowing that they’re simply just underdogs. pretty sure sebastian and hunter are going to eat up those mckinley kids.

DURING THE DANCE...

although jamie-lynn was busy stuffing the ballot box, the winner that was chosen wasn’t necessarily what the student body wanted. with finn and marley being the talk of the town due to homecoming royalty, it’s clear that rumors are flying around about them especially on campus. at least jake seemed one of the few people to defend marley. bree, santana, and kitty seem to have a lot to say about the lonely wallflower winning. poor jesse, mike, and nick; pretty sure they were there to have a good time. even brittany themselves looked busy with fondue for two.

jbi and brett seemed to have caught themselves quite an audience on the dance floor. was the red-stained shirt part of a publicity stunt? or was it just a little twist in fashion? because whatever that was, what made the stoner give up his precious locks for?

DURING THE PUCKERMAN PARTY...

the puckerman bros kicked off a fun party to end the night. looked like kitty and ryder spent a lot of time with each other. busy with their own feelings, perhaps? didn’t realize homecoming could mend the break of a relationship friendship. who knew kitty could pull back her claws?

but how strange to see the one of puckerman brothers run off somewhere else. something tells me that they were busy comforting the person who happens to be the head cheerleader.

nonetheless, mr. schuester is pleased by how the performances turned out, but he does need all of the clubs to start preparing for invitationals. for your glee club assignment, find a song that you think is invitationals approved; something not too powerful that spoils your talent, but something that would get everyone’s heads turning.

#wmacrecap

[thisaintascenereviews]

Motionless In White - Scoring The End Of The World

Out of all the late 00s and early 2010s metalcore bands that have lasted the longest, Motionless In White seems to be at the top of the list; if you're unaware, Motionless In White has been around since the late 2000s, but their debut LP came out in 2010, entitled Creatures. I always looked at them as the metalcore version of Marilyn Manson (probably not the best reference anymore, but I can't really compare them to anyone else), especially vocalist Chris Motionless sounding quite like him at times, and they had a horror aesthetic that no other band did at the time, but I never cared for them. I've listened to Creatures in retrospect, and it's a pretty cool album, but I haven't listened to anything else. They slowly turned into a radio-rock / hard-rock band, versus a metalcore band, but they're also one of the biggest rock bands in the world. That's what happens when you change your sound to be more accessible, but it seems to have culminated in their latest LP, Scoring The End Of The World. I didn't listen to this when it came out last year, but I've wanted to go back to this record for one reason -- Chris Motionless is featured on the new album from guitarist Nita Strauss, and I was shocked when the song he's featured on, "Digital Bullets," is one of my favorites from the whole album, so it made me want to hear this record.

I've given Scoring The End Of The World a handful of listens, and I don't particularly know how to feel about it. I mean, on one hand, I like it, and it's got some solid tracks on it, but on the other hand, there are some things about it I don't particularly like. I wouldn't say this album is outright awful, although I can completely understand if someone thinks so. This isn't an album of the year contender in any capacity, at least for me, but this album was a bit of a surprise in a few respects. For starters, Chris Motionless is a solid vocalist; he mainly uses a mixture of singing, screaming, and that whisper-talking thing that Marilyn Manson does, but he's competent at all three, even if he mainly sings throughout this record. His screams are pretty good, too, but his clean vocals really aren't bad. There are some solid hooks here, and that's what saves most of the album, even on some of the songs I don't mind, such as "Werewolf," "Sign Of Life," "Porcelain," and "Slaughterhouse." They're generic, sure, but they're at least kind of catchy. The album also has a bit of variety when it comes to its sound, mainly being a hard-rock record, but it's got traces of metalcore, alt-metal, nu-metal, and industrial. Hell, "Werewolf" is a straight up pop-rock song, but it's one of my favorites on the album.

With that said, though, the album is a mixed bag in terms of quality, because a lot of songs here just don't click for me, at least in a way that's more than "yeah, this is okay," because of how bland and generic it is. I can't tell you anything about most of these songs minus their title and the hook after I listen to it, because a lot of the songs just aren't memorable. It doesn't help that the album is 50 minutes long, and it doesn't need to be, especially when it's 13 songs long. You could have cut three songs, and the album would be about ten minutes shorter, which would make it a lot easier to digest. The lyrics are also a major problem I have with this album, despite how I enjoy a lot of the hooks (even though they're very bland themselves). The lyrics are much more politically charged this time around, and I know songs like "Red, White & Boom" with Caleb Shomo of Beartooth or "Slaughterhouse" with Bryan Garris of Knocked Loose try to say something but I don't know what they're talking about, because a lot of this record is just word salad, including buzzwords and vague ideas that don't amount to anything. It's a shame, too, because both of those guest vocalists are great, although Garris' feature is truly a highlight, and the song itself is my favorite out of the bunch, because of how heavy and intense it is.

Scoring The End Of The World isn't a horrible record, it's just bland, really long, and generic in a lot of spots. They've dialed back the metalcore stylings of their earlier work for a more streamlined hard-rock sound, and it's fine, but it just doesn't amount to anything. Chris Motionless is a good vocalist, although a lot of hooks on this record do sound like Breaking Benjamin outtakes (and I don't know if I mean that in a good or bad way), but that's the best part of the album. Hell, the song he's featured on, "Digital Bullets," on the new Nita Strauss album, is the best song that's not on here (but that's kind of because Strauss' guitarwork on that song makes up for it, and the hooks is quite strong). I was hoping this album would be better, and it's worth a few listens to sink your teeth into it, but if you're looking for a worthwhile rock album that has something interesting to say, you might want to look elsewhere. The guests are cool, even if they don't add a whole lot, and the album does have some variety, despite how it doesn't always work and the album is way longer than it needs to be. I don't know, folks, I'm glad that I heard it. It's just not an album that I'll probably ever go back to, unless I'm in a really specific mood, but if you're a fan of these guys, or you like this kind of stuff, it wouldn't hurt to check it out.

#metalcore #metal #heavy metal #rock #motionless in white #nita strauss #chris motionless #scoring the end of the world #knocked loose #beartooth #hard rock

[sunrisefairy]

Let me take care of you

Pairing: George Weasley x reader Word Count: 2.1k Warning: NSFW! fingering, unprotected sex, female receiving oral, dirty talk, swearing  Summary: Y/N is feeling stressed from university so George decides he needs to help her relax.  A/N: I dunno, kind of very proud of this one. Tried something new and decided to write some smut. Think it turned out okay.  Taglist: I’m assuming these people would still like to be included in the taglist for smutty fics, please tell me if you would like to be taken off or added! @hufflepuff5972 @inglourious-imagines​ @georgeweasleyswhre​ 

————————————————————————

It was nearing the end of the school year which means the deadline for final assignments and exams were fast approaching. Y/N was in her final year of her psychology degree and had spent the majority of her time cramming in revision or working on some essay.

You could find Y/N either at her part time job at the local florist or at home, hunched over her desk with numerous opened textbooks and half-drunk coffee cups strewn around. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a lot of time recently for her boyfriend, George. He didn’t mind though, he knew how important getting good grades were to Y/N so he would help out where he could, mostly by making sure dinner was ready when she got home from work or running to the library when Y/N needed another textbook.

Normally he could convince Y/N to take a 15 minute break without much persuasion if he presented her with freshly baked cookies, they’d sit on the couch and munch on the treats while George played with her hair before she’d sigh and say she better get back to her essay. But for the past 2 weeks Y/N has hardly moved from the desk chair only getting up when she had work. George has found her on more than one occasion slumped over the many books and papers, lightly snoring because she fell asleep. As soon as George would try and guide her to bed, she’d jolt up and mumble about needing to keep studying.

George was starting to get worried for Y/N’s mental and physical health if she didn’t slow down and rest, no matter what he tried nothing seemed to work so he had one last trick up his sleeve.

Y/N was once again sitting at her laptop typing away frantically, she had gotten off of work at 5pm, scoffed down some dinner and immediately opened up a textbook. It was now 10:45pm and Y/N had no plans on taking a break soon.

“Georgie babe, can you grab me another coffee?” Y/N called out over her shoulder.

George ignored her request and came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders massaging them lightly. “Darling, I think you’ve had enough coffee for the day. How about you finish up and we can lay in bed and get some sleep?”

Y/N shook her head not looking up at him, “can’t George, I’m so close to finishing this essay.”

George sighed; he could see the dark circles forming under her eyes deciding now would be the perfect time to try the last thing which might get Y/N to relax. He pushed Y/N’s hair off her shoulder. She was wearing one of George’s old band tees which was way too big for her and left some of her shoulder exposed. George lent down and started leaving soft kisses along her skin.

“Georgie, I don’t have time” Y/N mumbled quietly trying to shrug him off.

George persisted and kept leaving kisses along his girlfriend’s shoulder before stopping at the base of her neck and sucking a dark purple mark, causing Y/N to let out a breathy sigh.

“Come on baby, I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long. I miss you, let me take care of you.” Y/N turns her head slightly to see George better and he takes this opportunity to connect their lips. Y/N moans into George’s mouth. “I miss that pretty little pussy of yours, princess. Don’t you miss my cock and how well I fuck you? I’ll make you feel so good baby, promise.”  

Georges words go straight to Y/N’s core and she can already feel herself getting wetter by the second. There is no way she’ll be able to concentrate on her work now. So, she nods and stands up, pulling George up with her. “Want you to take care of me Georgie, need you to fuck me.”

George grins and grabs the back of Y/N’s legs, instructing her to jump, which she does and wraps her legs tightly around his waist. Y/N tangled her fingers into George’s red hair and connects her lips to his neck. George walks them to the bedroom and sits on the end of the bed with Y/N now in his lap. He toys with the end of her shirt before pulling it off groaning at the sight.

“Fuck baby, no bra?” He begins peppering kisses down her chest before attaching his mouth to her nipple, his fingers massaging her other breast.

Y/N whines, her body aching for some relief she starts rocking her hips against George feeling his cock harden under his sweats.

“Look at you, being so desperate for me princess. Bet you can’t wait for me to fuck you huh?” George’s hands coming down to grip Y/N’s hips and helping her rut against him.

Y/N lets out a breathy moan screwing her eyes shut, concentrating on the feeling of George’s harden length beneath her.

“What do you need darling? My fingers? My mouth? Tell me and it’s all yours.” George asks kissing along Y/N’s jaw which opens slightly a silent moan falling off her lips. “Gotta use your words baby. Tell me what you want.”

Y/N opens her eyes and connects them with George, “both Georgie. Want your fingers and mouth, please.”

George immediately lays Y/N down on the bed, her head resting on the pillows. His calloused fingers caressing her sides before hooking into the waistband of her pants and pulling them down slowly.

A sharp gasp leaves Y/N’s lips as George nips on the skin on her thigh.

“Already so fucking wet for me.” George rubs his finger against Y/N’s soaked panties before pulling them off.

Y/N spreads her legs further for George, desperate for him. “Please Georgie, need your mouth.”

“Anything for you, my darling” Y/N’s cunt is already glistening and begging for some attention. George wastes no time and licks a strip from her entrance up to her clit before sucking on the sensitive bud. Y/N rolls her head further back into the pillow and attaches her hand into George’s fiery locks shamelessly trying to pull him closer.

George hums sending vibrations against Y/N’s clit while he massages her wet folds with his fingers before he glides two digits into her heat and starts pumping slowly.

Y/N starts rocking her hips against Georges face and fingers silently begging for more.

George smirks as he lightly nips Y/N’s clit continuing to fuck Y/N with his fingers extremely slow much to Y/N’s dismay. His mouth moves to her thigh, mumbling against her skin. “If you want something baby, you gotta use your words.”

Y/N groans at Georges request, he was always persistent in making her more vocal in bed. He knew exactly what she wanted; he was just teasing. She tugs on George’s hair forcing him to meet her eyes, “I need you to fuck me harder with your fingers, please, I need you so badly Georgie.”

If George wasn’t making Y/N feel so amazing, she’d wipe that smug smirk of his face but her thoughts quickly disappear as George adds a third finger and quickens his pace, his free hand pressed against Y/N’s stomach, keeping her still. Y/N whimpers feeling George’s long fingers start brush against her g-spot, her walls clenching around him as pleasure builds up in her stomach, “feels so good.”

“Fuck, look at you taking my fingers so well, darling. Being such a good girl for me, letting me stretch you out for my cock.” Y/N lets out a heavenly moan which goes straight to Georges already throbbing dick, which is aching for some relief in his pants. George starts rubbing circles against Y/N clit with his thumb, determined to make Y/N come on just his fingers.

Y/N starts panting, her hips bucking up to meet George’s movements tightening her grip in his hair, his name falling from her lips, “fuck, fuck. I’m close.” She uses her free hand to pinch her nipples in between her fingers as the arousal in her belly builds.

George sucks harshly on her thigh, stretching her out with his fingers. “Come on my fingers baby, show me how good I make you feel.”

With George’s words Y/N is coming hard against his fingers, her back arching off the bed. George continues pumping his fingers into her cunt milking her through her orgasm. Once her breathing has slowed, he slowly pulls out his digits, his mouth watering with how they are glistening. George lifts his fingers to Y/N’s lips and watches as she opens wide and circles her tongue around his long fingers sucking hard and humming as she tastes herself. He pulls them out with a pop dragging his thumb against her bottom lip, “so pretty. Think you’re ready for my cock now princess?”

Y/N nods her head eagerly, reaching up to pull of Georges shirt, “god yes please, miss being full of you.”

She drags her nails down George’s toned chest while he rids himself of the rest of his clothes. George wraps his hand around his cock and notices Y/N’s eyes glued to him as strokes himself, a smirk creeping onto his lips. “Like what you see babe?” Y/N only rolls her eyes at him.

George leans over Y/N, propping himself up with his forearm while his other hand is wrapped around his cock teasing her entrance. Y/N hooks her legs around George’s waist, bucking her hips up trying to find some friction. “Please George, need you to feel me up with your cock.” Y/N knows she sounds desperate, but it’s been way too long since George has fucked her and now that he’s right here she can’t wait a second longer.

George starts to slowly push forward not stopping until his hips are flush against Y/N’s. “Shit Y/N, you’re so still so fucking tight even after I stretched up out with my fingers.”

Y/N sighs contently feeling George’s cock buried deep inside her, she missed him stretching her out like this. The room is filled with moans and grunts at George starts pounding into Y/N. She can feel the tip of his cock rub against her g-spot with every thrust. Y/N grabs onto his shoulders her nails digging into his skin, most likely leaving marks, but she didn’t care.

“Taking me so well, baby. Such a good girl” He praises, his fingers coming down to rub circle on her sensitive bud, leaving open mouthed kisses against the base of her throat. “You feel so fucking good clenching around my cock, this sweet little pussy is all mine, hey princess? Tell me who this cunt belongs too?”

Y/N bites her lip trying to suppress a moan but failing, “you Georgie, you always make me feel so good. Always fuck me so good.”

George hoists Y/N’s legs around his shoulders allowing him to hit deeper inside her cunt. Y/N’s eyes roll back into her head at the new position, her fingers pinching and massaging her breasts. George is slamming into her harder now and more gasps are leaving Y/N’s mouth. “Fuck Y/N you look so fucking pretty like this. Letting me fill you up with my cock.”

Y/N reaches down to play with her clit desperately needing to reach her second orgasm. “Love being so full of your thick cock Georgie. Feels so fucking good.”

Y/N feels George twitch inside of her, he’s close but she knows he won’t finish until she has. He snaps his hips harder into Y/N causing her to moan his name. George can feel her walls clenching around him causing him to groan loudly.

Y/N tangles her fingers in Georges hair pulling his lips to meet hers, “Georgie. Fuck, I’m-I’m so close.”

George tugs on her earlobe with his teeth “want you to cum around my cock Y/N.” With a few more deep thrusts Y/N comes, her legs shaking from the pleasure rushing throughout her body. She squeezes her eyes shut George’s names leaving her pretty mouth like a mantra.

Y/N pulsating and tightening around George pushes him over the edge and he releases his load inside of her groaning into her neck. He slowly rocks his hips as they come down from their highs before gently pulling out and laying on the bed pulling Y/N into his side.

“I love you” Y/N whispers, tracing patterns into his sweaty chest.

George plants a soft kiss against her forehead. “I love you too darling, so much.” Y/N can feel her eyes getting heavy, sleep wanting to overtake her body. George notices this and squeezes her shoulder. “How about I run you a warm bath, get you cleaned up, then we can get some sleep yeah?”

Y/N mumbles a reply against his skin feeling exhausted. “Maybe I should overwork myself more often if it means you’ll take care of me like this.”

George chuckles and sits up, pulling Y/N up with him and gently stroking her back, “baby you and me both know I always take of you, don’t need a reason.”

Y/N smiles sweetly up at George, feeling very blessed to have such a caring boyfriend.

#George Weasley #george weasley smut #smut #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #fred and george #fred weasley #george weasley one shot #george weasley fanfic #george weasley oneshot #george weasley imagine #harry potter #harry potter smut #harry potter oneshot

[teawaffles]

There’s No Business Like Show Business: Chapter 2

The next day.

After finishing his work at the mansion, Bond headed to Whitechapel’s Leman Street, where Maya and her company normally held their rehearsals. [1]

Walking down the noisy street was not just Bond, but also three other employees of the Moriarty household. One of them was Fred Porlock.

“It would’ve been fine if only you came along, Fred…… But thanks for joining us anyway, you two.”

Bond directed that to Jack Renfield and Sebastian Moran, who were walking a little behind him.

As Fred was a master of disguise, Bond had asked him to contribute his opinion on the performance too when Jack and Moran decided to tag along. Now the four of them were on their way to the rehearsal — with Louis’ permission of course.

Jack roared with laughter.

“No, you don’t have to thank me. I’ve watched my fair share of theatre, so I thought I could help them out, even if it’s from an amateur’s perspective,” said the old butler, nodding as he reminisced about those good old days.

“You’re probably just after the young girls from the theatre company, aren’t you old man?” Moran said, half in disgust. “Bond said this Maya chairwoman is a dashing lady in her own right, so I came along to feast my eyes on—— Ow, that hurt!”

Jack had clapped Moran on the head, as a warning to not shoot his mouth off.

“The only one here chasing women is you. Really, you didn’t even finish your chores properly before coming here.”

“I did my part just fine. For once, I’m not skipping out on work.”

“Rubbish — I did a check before we left and found some cigarette butts in the hallway. Don’t you dare annoy Louis any further.”

“……W-Well, the more the merrier, right?”

“…………”

Listening to their usual argument at the back of the group, Bond smiled wryly, while Fred was silent.

Finally, they had reached their destination. Waiting in front of the theatre was Maya, and her little sister Mae.

“Mister Bond!”

“Hey, haven’t seen you since yesterday.”

Mae waved her arms up and down in excitement, while Bond greeted them with a smile.

“S—sorry. Normally, she would play with the other children near our place, but today she insisted on coming with me…… By the way, um, who might these, d—dignified gentlemen be?”

“Ah, they work at the same household as me. The short one here is Fred. The somewhat scary-looking one is Moran. And this dandy old gentleman is Mr Jack. If you’re alright with it, I thought you could use their input as well.”

As Bond introduced them, the three men also greeted their host. But Maya seemed a little perplexed.

“……Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come here in a big group,” Bond admitted, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“No, no.” Maya hurriedly waved her hands. “I—I’m really grateful to be able to, hear valuable feedback from, so many people. For now, let’s not stand here to talk, please come in……”

Maya guided them into the theatre, stooped in a self-abasing posture. Her faltering voice was much as the same as from their previous encounter, but today, nerves seemed to have crept in as well.

“She has a sort of shadow about her, but that has its own charm. Like the transient beauty of a young widow, don’t you think?”

“She’s pretty, for sure, but not really my type. More like the kind of woman who complicates things when you break up with her.”

“Um, sorry you two, but if you could just keep your voices down,” chided Bond, as Jack and Moran whispered about the chairwoman behind her back.

Right after the entrance was a cramped space. The box seats above them looked hastily constructed; in truth, the interior decorations made it seem more appropriate to call this place a playhouse, rather than a proper theatre.

But their guide had only praise. “The manager here is, a really nice person; whenever we say we want to practise, he’s always happy to lend it to us. There are performances held at night, so we can only use it during the day.”

“He trusts you, doesn’t he.”

Hearing her speak with such sincere gratitude, Bond was quietly impressed by her character. Perhaps her dark aura easily invited misunderstanding, but she was definitely genuine at heart.

“Speaking of which, Miss Maya, you said that you’re the director for this performance, but surely someone else is responsible for the sets and the arrangements at the other theatre during this time?”

“Another member is in charge of the sets, but the negotiations and the like, w—were handled by me. Even so, the manager of the larger theatre — a nobleman — had actually approached us to be the opening act for another company, and I just accepted his invitation.”

“Still, isn’t it great to be invited to perform on a bigger stage, even if it’s just as an opening act?”

“Yes; for people like us — a theatre company from the slums, we don’t have many chances to show the world what we can do, so everyone’s doing their very best.”

Saying that, Maya secretly clenched her fists. Surely the one working the hardest was none other than Maya herself.

There was no audience in the stalls, and on the stage were a number of men and women — likely the company members themselves — doing light warm-ups and vocal exercises. A few of the children he’d met yesterday were also frolicking about on stage.

One exceptionally tall man on the stage had noticed Bond and the others enter the hall, and spoke up.

“Oh, is that the rumoured theatre master?”

Moran whistled at this unusually grand title.

“Theatre master, eh. A fitting name considering your experience, Bond.”

“Fufu, I’m honoured.”

Bond accepted it with his innate courage and composure. Then, he went onto the stage with Maya, while the other three sat in the stalls at the far end, so as to not stand out and interfere with the rehearsal.

The company members each stopped what they were doing and lined up in wait.

“Everyone, this is Mr Bond, who will be watching our performance today,” introduced Maya.

Right then and there, her voice had become clearer and stronger. A little taken aback by the sudden change in her attitude, Bond took a quick look around the room.

“Hello to you all. I’m looking forward to what you have for me today,” he said solemnly, as he bowed.

“We’ll do our best!” The company members bowed their heads in unison.

From their greeting, Bond could feel the the quality of their bearing, and the strength of their cohesion. Not only that, the tension he himself once felt when he stood on stage came rushing back in waves.

He switched his frame of mind from that of a special agent, to that of an actor, and looked over Maya and her company with an earnest gaze.

“Well then, without further ado, please show me what you’ve got.”

“Yes!”

Even though his instructions had been given with no introductory remarks, they asked no unnecessary questions, and jumped straight into preparation. Even though they had only put up plays in cheap theatres, Maya’s company already displayed the high level of professionalism they had developed.

“Miss Maya, what’s the programme for today?” Bond asked, as he moved to the row of seats right in front of the stage.

Maya was also directing Mae and the other children to sit down. “We’re starting with ‘The Red Shoes’, followed by ‘The Little Mermaid’, and lastly, ‘The Little Match Girl’.”

“Hmm, fairytales, I see.”

The unexpected subject matter piqued his interest.

In a time when Shakespeare was all the rage, to perform children’s literature in a proper theatre, and a serious scripted play at that — now this was a bold move.

But as someone who liked to do things unconventionally, that was precisely why their play intrigued Bond. Yesterday’s playful rendition of “The Little Match Girl” was probably inspired by it as well.

Then, the tall man who noticed Bond earlier spoke up.

“Ain’t it interesting? Maya always makes sure to write plays that even us poor dumb folk understand. Today’s script is also entirely her work,” he said cheerfully.

“Weren’t you in charge of creating the play too? You should be able to write at least one decent line of dialogue.”

At the man’s self-satisfied tone, a woman beside him sighed. But he ignored her pointed comment and carried on.

“There were a bunch of people who’d always thought ‘Hamlet’ and ‘Macbeth’ and the like were plain boring; but after Maya broke them down into something easier to follow, they’ve gotten hooked onto Shakespeare.”

“Being able to interpret works in a way that everyone can understand…… A wonderful talent indeed.”

But if you were to put on a proper production of Shakespeare in an unregulated theatre like this, you would be caught by the censors. To avoid that, incorporating music and the like into their productions was a brilliant adaptation on their part.

Bond had said that last part out loud, and the man thanked him for his words of praise. The members of the company had shown their admiration for Maya, but the woman herself took in a deep breath, as if to hide her embarrassment.

In other words, in order to put on a play that everyone could follow, the answer she'd arrived at was “fairytales”. Although it may be the best choice given the short length of the opening act……

“I’m sitting next to Mister Bond!”

“Hey, no fair!”

Bond had been absorbed in thought about the contents of the play. Nearby, the children were scrambling for the best spots. Having won the seat to the left of Bond, Mae asked him a question.

“Mister Bond, do you like ‘fairy tales’?”

That pulled him out of his thought process for a moment, and Mae smiled.

“Yeah. I read them when I was a child.”

“I like them too, because Maya and the rest always read them in a fun way—”

“Me too!” The other children raised their hands and shouted. Reading stories aloud while acting out the roles was indeed a theatrical way of reading to children.

However, Mae immediately pouted in frustration.

“But I really hate that story.”

“……Why is that?”

“The little girl always looks so sad. I tried asking Maya to give it a happy ending, but she just said that we have to ‘respect the intent of the story’ and didn’t listen.”

Her words helped Bond discern the true nature of the incongruity he'd felt.

As Mae had said, all three stories had their protagonists fall into unfortunate circumstances and perish. It was true that many fairytales were cruel, but there were others with happy endings too. Was there some hidden intent behind these choices?

As Bond pondered the new question that surfaced in his mind, Mae leaned in towards him.

“Mister Bond, do you also think it’s important, what Maya said? No matter how sad a story is, can’t we make it happy on our own?”

She asked that question with clear eyes. Bond thought for a few seconds, before responding.

“It’s true that it’s important to understand the intention of the original story. If you change its contents haphazardly, the fans of the story would be upset. I think your sister is the type who would take that very seriously.”

Mae glanced down in disappointment at his level-headed answer, but Bond continued.

“However, if we were all afraid of criticism, then nothing new would ever be made. If you have something you really want to tell others, then I think it’s possible to add a new interpretation to a story. After all, one form of respect is to show the world how you would’ve done it.”

“……Oh I see!”

Mae brightened up, and Bond smiled. Her question was one that had always, and would continue to vex all interpreters of stories. But at the very least, he didn’t want to make a decision on which way was right.

Just as their conversation had come to an end, it seemed the preparations for the performance were now complete.

“Without further ado, let us begin.”

Standing on a platform, Maya gave a bow, and with that the curtain rose.

Footnotes:

[1] Leman Street is a little to the north-east of the Tower of London and St. Katharine Docks, and within walking distance of both.

T/N: Is this chapter some meta-level commentary on the series itself?! omg

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #forbidden games

[penaltbox]

no promises - cole caufield

here’s a little fic that i’m actually pretty proud of and i owe so much credit to @puckyess​ for always helping me get these ideas rolling. if you like it let me know! feedback and reblogs are much appreciated!

word count: ~5.9k

__

The image of the gold chain he always wore dances behind your closed eyelids for the third night in a row. You swear you can hear his ragged breath in your ear, his mumbled profanities mingling with the gasps you let out when he checks to make sure you’re still okay, and the brief mentions of something gone wrong during the game. It’s like he’s right there, pushing you both closer to a release of emotions that you played no part in aggravating. You’re ready to lose it when you shoot up in bed, your phone lit up on the side table next to you with a notification. You take a deep breath and steady yourself, not even realizing that you’d fallen asleep. You rub your hand over your face and grab the device to check who was contacting you at such a late hour. You had a feeling you knew who…

‘Speak of the devil’, you thought as you unlocked your screen and tapped on his message. You realize then that it’s just past one o’clock in the morning and you connect the dots that he’d probably just gotten back from their trip to Ohio State. 

‘come over’

Never a please. Never a ‘would you like to’. Never a doubt that you wouldn’t do exactly what he asked of you.

And you had yet to prove him wrong. You slip out from under your covers quickly, grabbing some clothes and sneaking into your bathroom with your fingers crossed that your roommate wouldn’t hear you. You shower quickly and shave, slipping on the lace underwear that he’d probably hardly notice and some comfy clothes before brushing your teeth and heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Your roommate asks, head peeking over the back of the couch as you jump in surprise. She was rarely up late, but of course, some west coast hockey game had kept her up well past her bedtime on that night of all times. You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed the TV still on when you walked out.

“Uhm, nowhere,” you lie, knowing she’ll see right through you, “I’ll be back tonight though.”

She sighs and turns back around, “you know he’s just going to hurt you.”

And that… that was probably true, but it’s something you refuse to think about in that moment. Instead, you slip your shoes on and grab your keys, heading out just as suddenly as his request had come in. You made a half-hearted mental note that this needed to be the last time you did this.

__

You hate how quickly you get to his place but you can’t help it. It’s like second nature at this point and you could get there on autopilot if needed. Some nights it felt just like that but tonight you had a weird buzzing under your skin. It wasn’t like you were doing this for the first time or anything. Far from it, in fact. You try to brush the feeling off as nerves and stop two doors down from his actual apartment, sending him a text that you’d arrived, just like he always asked you to do. 

It takes a few minutes but his head pops out of the door suddenly and he smirks, “about time.”

You roll your eyes playfully and walk towards him, leaning in to kiss his cheek before making your way towards his bedroom. Brock barely spares you a glance from the couch, focusing his eyes on the TV as he watches the replay of the game your roommate had caught earlier. You blush and turn towards Cole’s room, but manage to catch Brock telling Cole to keep it down in a less than pleased voice. 

You ignore it and make your way into Cole’s room, peeking out the window at the city below that was much quieter than you were used to with it being such a late hour. 

“Miss me?” He calls from behind you, catching your attention.

You turn and find him still donning the smirk he’d formed when he first saw you that night, “wouldn’t you love to know.”

He scoffs a little and you watch his demeanor start to shift. Cole never called because he wanted to see you. No, it was more that he needed you to be there. Cole had a short temper ever since getting to Wisconsin. He found himself easily agitated and regularly frustrated at how his game had gone from smooth and easy with the NTDP to always struggling with the Badgers. 

And then one night he met you. He didn’t mean to start hooking up with you but you knew enough about hockey that he could talk about what went wrong if he wanted to, but you also knew when you just let him have his turn to get his frustrations out. His mouth turns down in a scowl as he locks his bedroom door and closes the gap between you two. His stare is constant and you feel your cheeks heat up almost instantly. He had control over you that you’d never given up to anyone and it made for addictingly good sex. 

“This last game sucked,” he mumbles, backing you against the wall and resting a hand on your hip. He’s so close you can feel his warm breaths as he seems to disconnect from the world suddenly. 

He goes silent but you don’t need any other explanation. You’d watched the game and saw he got his shit rocked on a couple different occasions. You would bet there was a bruise somewhere under his clothes that you’d be finding in no time. 

He presses his lips roughly against yours as his free hand comes around your waist, holding you tight against him. His hand slides up from your hip and slips under your shirt until he gets up to your bra… or where it should be. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, pulling back and lifting your battered Wisconsin crew neck over your head, “no bra? I love it.”

Your heart stalls a little at the l-word, not expecting him to say that. You don’t get time to react though as he kisses you again, slower this time, and angles you over towards the bed. He lets you fall back on it and you smile, reaching a hand out for him. He takes it, giving you a grin back that makes the buzzing under your skin worsen. 

Cole was always different once he got you in his room. He didn’t say much when you got there or left, but when it was just the two of you? He was all hands on. He was vocal; he checked in on you, he praised you, and he always made sure you finished. But he never looked at you when he did. 

He’s quick to shed his own clothes and tug your joggers off, wasting no time as his lips found as much skin as they could. He left a couple marks, but not anywhere they’d be visible. You did your best to keep up, gripping his shoulders as you rolled your hips up against his. 

He’s settled into you and creating a pace before he says another word, his tone strained as he says, “can’t believe that goal didn’t count. Fuck that ref. We hardly got enough chances on net. Shit, I’m getting close, baby.”

“Just a little longer,” you squeak, digging your nails into his back as the pet name rolled through your thoughts. He never called you by name during sex. It was a red flag that stood tall but you still ignored it every time it happened. 

You could feel every failed play in the way he moved. You knew there were missed shots and poor passes that resulted in them losing. You watch the wheels turn in his head as he holds you down just a little harder, blunt nails digging into your skin. His left bites the skin above your collarbone and you know it’ll leave a mark but it still pulls an obscene noise from your lips. 

He presses his forehead into the crook of your neck, lips melting against your warm skin. He slips a hand down to help you along and it works much faster than you expected. You hated how he knew what would make your body react fastest as you tumble to your end. You try to catch your breath below him, knowing the hold he had on your hip would leave bruises. It usually did. He rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling for a couple minutes when he’s done. 

He looks over at you, the corner of his lips just slightly pulled up, “are you good?”

“I’m good,” you laugh, still a little out of breath, “just don’t make me stand up right this second. My legs feel like jello.”

“Deal,” he laughs, letting his hand slide over, hooking your pinkies together in the small space between the two of you. 

Once you finally feel up for it you slide out of his warm bed, grabbing your clothes and sliding them back on. Cole pulls sweatpants on and waits until you’re ready before walking you out. He stops at his own door first though and leans down, giving you a much more gentle kiss than the first that night. He lets you both linger, arms wrapped around each other, and leans his forehead on yours when he finally separates his mouth from yours. 

“I’ll see you next time?” He asks, but you both know the answer. 

“Yeah, of course.”

His demeanor turns back to friendly versus affectionate as he walks you to the front door. You notice that Brock is no longer taking up space on the couch and you feel embarrassed when you think of what he must have heard. 

Cole tells you goodbye, but there’s no hug and definitely no kiss this time around. He watches until you get safely into the elevator and leaves you with a nod of his head. You really wondered why you stuck around but when you remember the last kiss he’d given you, you can’t help but press your fingers to your lips as the buzzing under your skin heightens again. 

—

You watch the time tick down off the clock, wincing when you watch Cole smash his stick off the wall at the buzzer. They’d gotten destroyed by Minnesota and you already knew what type of mood he was in. The announcers make comments on the bad attitudes the Badgers were toting, mentioning multiple things they’d done wrong that night. You mute them but leave the feed running just in case they interviewed someone you’d want to hear from. 

It was a home game so there was no flight to wait for but you had a good feeling you’d be getting a text in an hour or two so you moved from the couch to your bathroom, not wanting to make him wait with how he was acting already. 

As soon as you wrap the fluffy towel around your body and tap the screen you see three messages waiting from Cole and one from a number you didn’t have saved. You frown and open it quickly, tapping the unknown number first. 

‘Hey it’s Brock. Sorry if this is weird but the doors unlocked and I’m gone for the night so deal with my brother please and thanks’

You laugh a little, knowing he must be way more worked up than you expected. ‘What a shit show this is going to be’, you think to yourself. You skim Cole’s messages next that range from ‘come over’ to ‘I’m dead serious get over here’. You’re about to type out a response when his contact pops up on your screen. He’d never called before. 

“Hello?” You answer, brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Why are you ignoring me? Get over here,” He grits out, sounding so tense your jaw drops a little. 

You sigh, tucking the phone between your shoulder and cheek as you hurry to your room to grab clothes, “I am, I promise. I was just in the shower.”

“We don’t make promises, remember? The front door is open when you get here.”

You’re about to tell him you knew that but the line goes dead, leaving you to stare at the blank screen in your hand. You’re baffled at the attitude he was projecting onto you but you get your things together anyways and finish getting ready. ‘

You don’t hurry to his place this time, knowing he was on edge either way, but you still get there in under 20 minutes from when he’d called. You bite your lip as you try the door handle, finding it unlocked just like both Caufield boys had said. You take a deep breath and walk in, locking the door behind you

“Cole?” you call out, looking around the small space. He’s not in the kitchen or living room so you head down the hall. His room is dark, leaving you confused, but then you hear the shower. You tap on the door and peek your head in, “Cole?”

His head pops out from around the corner, a frown so prominent his forehead was creasing. It eases off his face a little when he locks eyes on you as he calls for you, “will you come here? Get in with me.”

Your face heats quickly. You’d never done something so intimate with him and you were wondering if it was really the best idea. Your skin starts to get that all-too-familiar buzz under it now and you were starting to think it was permanent around him. 

“Are you sure? I just took one and I don’t mind waiting in your room until you’re done.”

He sighs, pouting a little, “please.”

You really wished you had more willpower in that moment but when it came to him you just didn’t. You nod and make your way into the small room, striping your clothes off as he watched. It makes you feel so much more exposed than usual but somehow it’s not uncomfortable. You push him back gently as you go to step in, smiling a little.

“You better make room if you want me in here,” you tease, putting your hair up in a bun to keep it dry.

Cole smirks and pulls you into him, eyes still scanning your body, “I’ll do whatever you ask.”

You snort at that and roll your eyes, “we both know that’s a lie. You’re the one who calls the shots around here.”

He’s silent for a moment before he smirks and leans down, kissing you hard. He bites gently on your bottom lip, much to your surprise, and lets a hand trail down the side of your thigh. He looks like he’s up to no good when he pulls back, making you let out a little laugh. You knew when you were in trouble with him. 

“Let’s see what it’s like in the shower. I bet you sound amazing in here,” he says, his tone low enough to make you shiver a bit. You didn’t hate the idea. You were pretty sure anywhere the two of you chose would be worth your time, but the bathroom was… well lit. He’d see every inch of you and you were pretty sure he hadn’t yet.

“Are you sure?” you check in, half hoping he’ll change his mind for some reason. 

“Yeah I’m sure. I think it’ll be fun,” he nods, but stops when he notices your hesitation, “unless you’re not cool with it?”

“No! I’m okay with it! I just was thinking we’ve never really done anything with so much, you know, light and stuff,” you blush, looking down at your feet then and feeling a little silly for your admission. 

Cole reaches out to tilt your chin back up towards him, “I’ll let you call this shot.”

And you agree. You end up losing your footing a couple times, he has to hold your waist almost always, and you can’t help but laugh at the awful noises that are being made at an awful volume in the tiled area. It’s simultaneously the worst yet most fun sex the two of you had dealt with yet. It takes longer than normal to finish for you both so you’re exhausted by the time you both lean on each other to catch your breath. 

“Wonder what time it is by now,” you mumble, cheek pressed against his chest as you hug his waist tight. 

He looks down and leans to kiss your forehead so gently you can’t breathe suddenly, “probably pretty late. Did you just want to spend the night?”

You sigh and try to step away but his arms hold you tightly in place. You give him a look, trying to remind him that you both know better than to even think about doing that. This was still just a hookup. Or at least it was supposed to be. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you sigh, leaning your cheek back onto his chest to listen to his heartbeat rather than catching his stare. 

“You’re right,” he agrees, but he doesn’t sound very convincing. 

He carefully slips from your arms and out of the shower, grabbing his own towel before searching for an extra for you. He shuts the shower off and wraps the towel tightly around you, giving you another forehead kiss. He was really pushing boundaries for the night and you were struggling to keep saying no. 

You both dress in silence, but it’s far from awkward. You can see the tension is gone in his shoulders and he just looks exhausted now. You’re still determined to leave and keep things casual, but if you weren’t, you’d have him wrapped in your arms in his bed while you played with his hair. Luckily, or maybe not, you’d never know that was struggling not to think of the same thing. 

He catches you by surprise yet again that night when he kisses you at the front door. He usually played it cool and acted unattached in any of the common spaces but tonight was much different. You had so many thoughts in your head from the way he was treating you and you knew you needed to go. 

A quick goodbye and one more fast kiss, or you wouldn’t leave, and you were walking a little quicker than usual to the elevator. Maybe it was time to start telling him no. You laugh at your own thoughts immediately. You were way too gone for him to ever do that.

—

‘Let me know when you land and I’ll get ready’

You stare at the words that you’d texted, wondering if you blacked out when you sent them. You can’t take it back, unfortunately, and you’re left with the gnawing feeling that you shouldn’t have done it. Cole was always the one to ask you over. 

“You sent him what?” Your roommate asks, her eyes wide as she leans over your shoulder to read it, “oh my god, are you in love with him or something?”

“What? No!” You yell back, but truthfully you weren’t sure about that, “I just figured I’d check in with him first? I don’t know, I guess I just thought I’d get the ball rolling earlier today.”

Your face feels hot to the touch as you press your hand against your cheek. You know you must look like a lost puppy because your roommate wraps her arms around you immediately, rubbing your back soothingly. 

“Just be careful, okay? I know you have fun when you’re with him, but boys suck. You can’t trust him.”

You swallow hard and nod, knowing she was telling the truth. You nod as a silent agreement and tell yourself you need to start pulling away. It’s not that you want to. You always enjoy being with Cole. It’s more that you need to. 

Cole turns his phone on once the flight lands. A few messages popping up right away. He’s about to ignore them all when he sees your name ding on the screen right before he can lock it. He feels a little tug in his chest as he reads the words you’d sent him. He tries to shrug the feeling off but the smack on his shoulder grounds him more than anything. 

Brock stares at him, an almost knowing look on his face, “is that who I think it is? I thought you were the one who always reached out first.”

“I mean, I usually am. This is a first,” Cole says, looking back down at the message that has his face quickly turning up in a smile. 

“You know this isn’t a good idea,” Brock mumbles as he gives his little brother a side eye, “when are you going to stop playing with her emotions and make a decision? Because it sure looks like you’re getting your own feelings involved at this point, too.”

“I’m sure she just sent it because she knows by now. We practically have a routine at this point so she’s really not out of line or anything,” Cole justifies, starting to type out a message right away.

Brock laughs a little before standing to get off the plane, “just don’t come crying to me when things go wrong because you two wouldn’t talk about things and one of you ends up heartbroken. Or both of you.”

Cole sighs and tries to shake off the words from his brother because honestly, he knew what Brock was saying was the truth. He’d always said he wasn’t going to get into anything serious because everything until the NHL was just a short-term stay. He hadn’t listened to that rule in high school though and so far he was having a hard time listening to it at college as well. Despite the advice from his brother he texts you back, wanting to just go with what made him feel good. 

‘Don’t be late’

He throws a winking emoji on at the end, quickly softening the formerly demanding message. You nearly choke on your own breath when it comes in on your phone. You’d spent the last half hour pacing your apartment and overthinking the worst case scenarios that could come from your choice to text him first. You’re surprised that he’s so casual about it, if you’re being honest, but you chalk it up to it being a routine thing that you guys did after his games. It’s all you need to hear though and you finish getting ready while trying not to think too hard about what it meant that you were both showing a desire to be together. 

Cole barely drops his backpack down in his room when his phone lights up. He smiles subconsciously and opens your message as he’s walking back towards the front door. Brock happens to be walking in the opposite direction and gives Cole a solid shove on his shoulder, mumbling something about how soft Cole was getting. He ignores the comment and pulls the front door open quickly, looking over at you.

“Well look who it is. Get over here,” he says, directing his smile at you.

You blush when you see how happy he looks and it makes your stomach flutter. That couldn’t be a good sign, but you can’t help it. You walk over and lean in, testing to see where the boundaries were that day. He leans down easily, kissing you gently, and making your brain go haywire. He’d never done that in the common space. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours and giving a little squeeze as he takes the familiar path to his room. You were pretty sure you could walk the apartment with your eyes closed by now and you mark another little red flag in your head. They were tallying up faster and faster lately.

“You split the series, huh?” you ask, needing to break the silence with something to stop your thoughts from scrambling any longer.

Cole grins back at you, “yeah, they were decent so I’m glad we got that first win yesterday. Is that what it takes to get you to text first? A split?”

You can hear the teasing in his voice and it makes you blush, leaning your forehead on his arm, “stop, I thought you were back already. I didn’t mean to text early.”

He laughs, kissing your forehead and shutting the door behind him, “it’s okay. I didn’t mind it. We do kind of have that routine by now.”

“Yeah, we kind of do, huh? I just didn’t want to step over any lines with it,” you mumble, looking down where your hands are still connected.

“You didn’t,” he says quietly, grabbing your other hand and putting them on the back of his neck so he can wrap his arms around your waist, “don’t be afraid to do it again.”

You can’t form any words, opting to give him a little nod as your fingers play with the curls at the nape of his neck instead. He kisses you then and it takes your breath away. It feels like more than the ones you’d had before and maybe that was from his confession that he didn’t mind hearing from you whenever you pleased, but it’s a lot. In fact, the whole night is a lot.

He takes his time once he lays you down, picking you apart and finding every soft spot on your body. It isn’t rushed and aggressive like the hook ups usually were and you both were well aware of what you were doing. You even take a chance, tracing a bruise on his side with kisses to see if he’d let you. Usually he took charge and did things his way, but he lets you do what you want, making him whine and squirm like you’d never seen. You’re both exhausted by the time you’re done. You’d spent time, and for once, a lot of emotion on each other that wasn’t how things used to be. He pulls you against his chest after as he gently dances his fingers up and down your back.

“Same thing next weekend?” he jokes, getting a laugh out of you instantly. The sound makes the tug in his chest come back and he tries to push it away.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you say and pretend to think about it, “what if I have other plans or you guys win both games?”

“Why don’t you text first again and we’ll see what happens?” 

You bite your lip and start to sit up, knowing you needed to leave before you got too tired or lost your willpower to tell him no. Cole frowns immediately and you catch the look right away, teasing him, “you aren’t so tough after all, are you, Caufield?” 

“Just stay,” he says, his tone low enough to make your stomach flip as he catches your wrist, “you already broke your rules once today. Do it again.”

You toss the idea around in your head, knowing this would go much farther than it should. It would step over so many lines, but your composure wasn’t very good around him anymore. You nod, leaning down to kiss him before settling back against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and kisses your temple. You hate how happy you feel with him as you remember all the red flags he’d given you in the past. You close your eyes and just try to relax. Next time you’d discuss what was going on. That was one promise you wanted to keep for yourself.

__

You and Cole go silent for the rest of the week after spending the night, but that was normal. You two didn’t talk any other time and you didn’t reach out unless it was after a game to sleep together. Still it manages to nag at you and you kick yourself. You caught feelings. You should have known better and cut things off weeks ago when you’d first started to get butterflies. Now it was too late and you knew you needed to have the ‘what is this’ talk with him sooner rather than later. You couldn’t keep wasting your time on someone who wasn’t going to stick around. You manage to make it through the week without reaching out to him, saving the interaction in case they lost their games that weekend and you’d inevitably hear from him then. 

Except they win.

Except he texts you immediately after the game with a message you’d never gotten from him.

‘Can we talk tonight?’

Your heart hammers in your chest as you read the four words over and over and over again. They’re burned into your memory by the time you look up, realizing your eyes had begun to tear up. You knew you needed to talk but you weren’t ready for the request to come from him. You send back a thumbs up emoji, not knowing how to string together any words that would make sense. You go on autopilot after that as you play through every possible situation that could come from this. 

Realistically it could either go really well or really poorly. He could say he also had feelings for you and that he wanted to make things work. Or, the worst option, he could tell you he didn’t have any feelings and he was done hooking up for good. You run through both options until your mind goes static and you have to force yourself out of the shower that’s run cold from being in it so long. You go through the motions of getting yourself to his place and sending the ‘here’ message that was customary at this point.

When he opens the door he doesn’t give you a smile, but waves you over. Neither of you go for a kiss and the air feels heavy around you both. It does nothing to calm your nerves or the churning in your stomach. You knew you weren’t there for a hookup that night, that much was obvious. It’s Brock standing in the living room that surprises you most. You catch his gaze and the soft, almost apologetic, smile he gives you sends you into overdrive. What the hell was going on?

With a hand on the small of your back, Cole ushers you towards the one room that usually offered privacy and relief, but this time it looked like a death sentence prison cell. His hand feels hot on your back and not in the good way that it used to. You lean against his desk when you get in there, immediately crossing your arms across your chest to get away from him. He shuts the doors softly and shoves his hands in his pockets as he stands in front of you. He still has his game suit on, minus the jacket, and you let yourself look. He looks ridiculously handsome and you commit the image to memory, having a feeling this was the one and only time you’d be getting that view. 

“Would you just tell me already?” you whisper, knowing that the worst was coming. 

He runs his tongue across his bottom lip, nodding, “I don’t want to hurt you. I really don’t. It’s exactly why I’ve always said we can’t make promises to each other.”

You frown at him, “so then don’t. It’s literally that simple.”

“It’s not though,” he says with a little laugh, “I already made my promises to someone else.”

Your blood runs cold at that and you realize you hadn’t thought of one very awful possibility of why he wanted to talk. He had someone else already. Your throat feels so tight that it’s hard to breathe and you try to suck in a deep breath that doesn’t help at all. You shake your head and tighten your arms more across your chest, praying it helps hold your heart together for just a little longer. 

“Who is she?”

He hangs his head like this entire thing isn’t his own fault, “we were together in high school and now we go to separate schools. I didn’t want to hold her back but I don’t know how to let her go either.”

“So you’re a cheater,” you spit out, tears falling fast before you can even try and hold them back, “you’re cheating on her and I’m the other girl. What the fuck is wrong with you, Cole?”

“It’s not cheating!” he tries to justify, holding his hands up and stepping closer to you, “we’re not official right now.”

You push him back, hand firm on his chest to give yourself space, “fuck you. You’re as official as you can be and you still slept with me for the last four months. You knew what you were doing and you didn’t care. You didn’t have her here so you found a good substitute. That’s awesome, thanks for fucking up my life and emotions in the process.”

“Stop, I told you I didn’t want to hurt you. That’s why I’m being honest right now.”

“Honest?” you raise your voice, well aware that Brock could probably hear everything at this point, “you call this honest? You’re a liar and a cheater, Cole Caufield! I can’t believe I let you play me for this long.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I swear I didn’t mean for this to be the way it is,” he says, practically pleading at this point. 

You shake your head, bottom lip wobbling as much as your voice, “you broke my heart. Are you happy with that? Was everything a joke to you? Sleeping together, forehead kisses, holding hands, spending the night? Or did you just picture her the whole time and I was just a stand in?”

“No,” he mumbles, trying to reach for you, but you smack his hand away and start to back yourself towards his door, “I swear it was real with you. I didn’t mean to take it so far but I started to like you, too.”

“You are unbelievable. I can’t believe I let you in so easily. I hate you.”

He swallows around a lump that appears in his throat suddenly. This wasn’t at all how he’d planned things. They were never supposed to go this far with you, but he couldn’t let you go. He couldn’t but now he had to. He had no options anymore and he would probably lose everyone in the process. 

“I promise I will hate you for the rest of my life,” you whisper, cheeks wet with tears despite your best efforts to try and rid yourself of them before you left. He didn’t deserve to know how much he was breaking you.

You rip open his door and all but run out of the apartment. Brock catches your gaze from the living room as you open their front door. Immediately his heart breaks a little. He knew the entire time and never saved you from this. He was just as guilty as his brother was. Cole stays frozen in place where you’d left him in his room, heart hurting despite everything. He’d let you keep your promise about hating him. That was one he deserved to carry with him.

#cole caufield #mine #my writing #wisconsin hockey #usa hockey #team usa #hockey fic #college hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #if you know him pls leave lol

[moldisgoodforyou]

D44 if you’re still taking requests for Sophie and Rafe!?

d44: I’ve never wanted anyone this badly before

warnings: smut, 18+ !! 

wordcount: 1.9k

_

It started innocent, at least. 

Rafe convinced Sophie to come over the day before Thanksgiving break ended, only because the house was empty. After he came to Sophie’s house for Thanksgiving and felt like he passed the test with her family, he was reminded again of how his was completely opposite and didn’t feel like introducing her any time soon. He was grateful she understood the situation and didn’t push it. 

They didn’t get alone time in a casual setting often because they both lived in their fraternity and sorority houses - any time hanging out was often interrupted quickly and turned into a group hangout with their friends. Rafe was frustrated each time, especially when they were caught mid-makeout. Sophie would just laugh it off and Rafe swore he could feel her relax a little each time, but never questioned it.  

“Hey.” She interrupted the movie during the height of a fight scene - a major faux pas to Rafe, who immediately went to shush her. She batted his hand away from her lips, grinning. “We’re alone.” 

“I know, that’s why you’re here.” 

“No, Rafe. We’re alone.” Sophie emphasized. She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss him. The weight of her words finally hit him and he scrambled to turn off the TV, then rolled on top of her, a hand going to grip her waist. She giggled, reaching up to kiss him. The kisses got more and more heated as they went, both of their shirts on the floor in minutes. 

“Can I?” Rafe murmured against her skin, fingers toying with her bra clasp. “Yeah, please.” She nodded, slipping out of it before she could give herself a second to consider backing out. He grinned and pushed himself up on his forearms, taking a moment to admire her. “Rafe.” She whined, going to cover herself up, but he pulled her arm away. “So fucking pretty, Soph.” He slid his hand gently up her side to palm her breast, then grazed his thumb over her nipple. 

“Quit.” She mumbled but raked her fingers through his hair, a blush growing on her cheeks. He grinned up at her as he started kissing along her collarbone, teasing her. “You mean it?” 

“No, I meant stop just...looking. Do something.” 

He nodded and brought his lips to her nipple, tracing around it first with his tongue before grazing his teeth across. Sophie let out a soft moan, arching her back up toward him. He took his time, sucking and nipping at certain spots across her chest and soothing over them with his tongue, loving her small whimpers of pleasure. 

She tensed a little as he started kissing down her stomach. He glanced up, gripping her hips as he met the waistband of her skirt. “You alright?” 

“I’ve never wanted anyone this badly before.” Sophie breathed out. Rafe took it as a sign and reached down, about to slip his hand under her skirt, but she grabbed his wrist quickly. He retracted his hand right away, sliding up to kiss her lips again. She kissed him back, short, but was suddenly tense, unsure.

“Soph, what’s wrong?” He asked, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear with a gentle touch.

“I just - I don’t know.” She sat up on her elbows, feeling extra exposed. Rafe seemed to sense it and pulled the comforter over her but gave her space, leaning away. “I’m sorry.” She apologized and he shook his head. “No, no, nothing to apologize for. We stop whenever you want to stop.” 

“It’s not that. I want to.” Sophie paused. “Really want to.” 

“Okay...” He searched over her expression, confused. “I’m not following.” 

“Fuck, okay.” She leaned her head back, glancing at the ceiling for a moment before shifting her gaze back to him. “I've never really - well, I’ve gotten to this point before, a couple times, but I don’t know. I’ve only gone all the way with one guy - and fuck, it lasted, like, two seconds, I didn’t really know him too well, kind of just wanted to get it over with I guess.” She rambled, then bit her lip as she tried to gauge his reaction. “I don’t want to, um, disappoint?”  

Rafe almost laughed until he realized how serious she was and leaned closer to kiss her. “Is that it?” 

She pulled back, bewildered. “Is that it? It’s kind of a big deal, Rafe.” 

“Not really. Not to me at least.” He was incredibly sincere, careful not to mince his words. “I really care about you, Soph, so if you ever want to stop - any second, I’m serious - tell me and we will. And you could never, ever disappoint.” 

She beamed, surprised by his reaction. “Really? You mean it?” 

“I mean it.” He kissed her again, soft and sweet, and was a little hesitant when she kissed him harder, her hands sliding down his back. “S’okay, Rafe.” She murmured, rolling her hips against his. He groaned against her lips. “Fuck, we haven’t even done anything yet and I’m already hard.” 

She grinned and slid her hand down against his ass. “We can take our time.” He hummed against her skin as he kissed along her jawline. “Not gonna last if we take too much time.”  

“Then stop wasting time.” She told him, rolling her hips again. “I know I’m not experienced but I know you at least have to take off my skirt.” 

Rafe laughed lowly and pulled her skirt off as she lifted her hips for him. She sucked in a slow breath as he started kissing up her thighs, spreading her legs apart. “Rafe you really don’t have to -” 

“I want to taste you, baby.” 

“Fuck.” Sophie exhaled, already feeling a little light-headed just from the sight of his head between her thighs. “Okay.” 

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” He reminded her, only continuing at her nod. He nudged her panties aside and just traced around her wetness with one finger, glancing up to see her reaction. She cursed under her breath, pushing her hips  toward him. “Can I take these off?” He asked, hooking her fingers in the waistband of her panties. 

“God, yes, please.” She bit her lip hard in anticipation, then her mouth fell open as he pushed one long finger slowly into her once they were off. He smirked and pulled it out, rubbing his two fingers over her clit. She gasped and bucked her hips. 

“You’re so good for me, Soph.” Rafe murmured, then slowly slid two fingers in her, testing her out. After a moment she mumbled something and he glanced up, pulling his hand away. “What was that?” 

“No, don’t -” She whined. “I said more. Please, Rafe, more.” 

He slid his two fingers back in and started fucking her at a gentle pace, then lowered his lips to her clit. Just one flick of his tongue across had her crying out and then he picked up the pace, sucking and licking and holding her down with a strong forearm across her hips. It didn’t take long until she was cursing again - oh, right there, fuck, please Rafe - and reaching her high, breathing hard. 

He kissed up her hipbone as she took a moment to catch her breath. “Where the fuck did you learn that?” Sophie asked, tugging gently at his hair to pull him closer. He just smirked and leaned up to kiss her, and she scowled a little. “Actually, I don’t want to know.” He laughed and kissed her hard, running his hands up her body. “Fine by me.” 

"You’re wearing way too much clothing, this is unfair.” She pushed at his chest, trying to flip them over. “Eager.” He teased. “We don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to.” 

“I want to. Pants off.” She tugged at the waistband of his sweats and he nodded, rolling off her for a moment to kick off his sweats. He paused, glancing over at her with just his boxers on before taking them off too. She was caught up in watching him, subconsciously tracing her tongue over her top lip. Rafe grinned. “You’re ogling me.”  

“Hm?” She blinked, distracted. 

“You’re still sure?” 

“I need you, Rafe.” She told him, feeling the heat creeping across her cheeks. He didn’t waste another second kicking off his boxers and coming back to the bed, kissing her fiercely and groaned when she reached down to grip him, running her thumb across the head of his cock. “Fuck, Soph.” 

“I love that sound.” Sophie mumbled against his lips. “Do you have a condom?” 

“Shit, yeah.” He leaned over and fumbled with the drawer of his nightstand then pulled out a foil packet. 

“Tell me those aren’t from high school.” She grabbed it out of his hand, looking for an expiration date and he grabbed it back, laughing. “It’s not, I, um. Packed accordingly.” She watched as he rolled it on and bit her bottom lip, tensing a little as he turned back to her. He sensed it right away and kissed her, gentle. “We’ll take it slow, okay? Just talk to me.”  

“Mmhmm.” She murmured, holding him close. He teased the head of his cock against her entrance and she held her breath until he pushed into her, slowly. After a couple seconds she exhaled, nodding. “Okay, you can move.” He started slow, focusing more on her pleasure than his. When she dug her fingers into his shoulders and pressed her hips against his, he picked up the pace just slightly, until she was moaning. “More, Rafe, god.” 

He started thrusting harder, reaching up to pinch her nipple and loving the way she whined underneath him, curses spilling from her lips. “Soph, I’m not going to -” He warned, pressing heated open-mouthed kisses across her cheeks and lips. “I know, I’m close too.” She breathed out, cursing again when he roughly handled her breasts, fingers sure to make a mark tomorrow. “Sophie, fuck, so fucking good for me,” he mumbled, groaning as he came. It only took a few times of him circling his fingers across her clit before she came too, moaning into his ear.  

They rested their foreheads against each other for a moment, breath intermingling, before he pulled out of her. She let out an embarrassingly breathy whine, turning red as she did so. Rafe grinned and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before tossing the condom in the bathroom and returning. 

“I didn’t know you were so vocal.” He teased, trailing his fingers up her side.

“I’d like to hear more of you next time.” She shot back.

He grinned. “Anything for you, baby.”

Sophie had the covers pulled across her chest and beamed at him when he came into bed to cuddle with her. “Hey, Rafe.” 

“Hey what.” He pulled a strong arm across her waist and pulled her back against him. 

“Remind me again why we didn’t date sooner? We could have been doing this all this time.”

“I’ve been trying for years, baby, I think you’re a little stubborn.” He teased, nuzzling against her neck. She reached up and curled her fingers into his hair. “Me? Never.”

“Uh huh. Really, though, I don’t think I would have been good enough for you even a year ago.” He paused, glancing up at her in a moment of vulnerability. “You deserve the best.” Sophie blushed, ducking her head away. “Rafe.”

“I mean it, Soph. You set the bar, I’ll meet it.”

#unedited!! #duh #the hannah special #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfic #obx smut #college rafe #frat rafe #rafe x sophie #mine

[xsamuu]

HEYYYYY!! I saw your ask box was open and I was wondering if I could request a headcanon? Where the reader is in a massive fight with a friend they haven't seen for like 3 years and the friend takes it too far by saying something like "That's your boyfriend? How gross" "Ew why does he look like that? Couldn't grab someone better? Ugly ho" or whatever you come with? Tendou, Bokuto, Kenma, Kags, Nishinoya please, if you will?

I screeched when I saw this omg thank you I hope this is up to your standards bebs 😼👍🏾 but uh I should say some did come out a little bit like scenarios but I tried to stick to headcanons sorry for that still hope you enjoy 🎃😼

~Admin Rizzo

Tendou Satori

-you was minding your own business walking through a park your hands intertwined with your lover when a ✨m u s t y✨ old friend you knew had decided to share there unwanted opinions

-Tendou could see how uncomfortable you was and wanted to remove you from the situation but as he went to walk around the obstacle you stopped dead in your tracks

-“That’s who your with oh my god that’s fucking gross, I guess you’ll hook up with anyone you thot”

-It’s safe to say that tendou had come up with thousands of insults by the time the slur left there mouth

-Who even was this person?— WAIT WHO THEY CALLING A THOT?!

-you wasn’t a very confrontational person but nevertheless you wasn’t about to let this person who wasn’t even in your day to day life anymore talk smack about your man

-you went to retaliate when a big arm swooped around your shoulder catching you off guard

-“Babe lets go I wanted to bring you to the park today not a circus” 🤡

-Needless to say your ‘friend’ was shocked and maybe a little intimidated

-You on the other hand had to summon all the strength in your body not to laugh in there face

-With his arm still wrapped around he moved you away from the situation the both of you quickly changing the subject to something more important

Bokuto Kōtarō

-Bokuto loves spoiling you

-your the love of his life and he will make sure you know this not only through his words but also his actions

-this however works both ways there isn’t something you wouldn’t do to show him how much you support and love him

-You was sitting in the crowd at one of his games it was a very important one winning this match would definitely get him recognized by some powerhouse teams

-every time he would score a point for his team he would look up at you and every time you would be there imitating his celebration “HEY HEY HEY THATS MY ACE” You felt only pride and absolute infatuation with this man

-you was cheering your heart out when you suddenly felt someone bump your shoulder (a little too hard to be an accident—)

-You swung your head around only to come face to face with an old friend from middle school they looked bitter asf and your conscience was telling you to just ignore them

-“Oh you have nothing to say to me now Huh? I see your at another one of these boring ass games I thought you didn’t have time for people?”

-It’s true at one point you did say that but you didn’t think you’d loose one of your closest friends because of it even so you continue to ignore them hoping they’d get the message and leave

-they didn’t.

-“So you and number 4 are together I’m assuming. I guess ugly attracts ugly”

-immediately you saw red but you couldn’t ruin this for bokuto important people were here. As if he could sense your distress he shot his eyes up to where you were in the stand

-He called a time out, and started running out the gym everyone was confused but when he reappeared in the stands you knew all to well that he had caught on

-“Babe I just noticed your supposed to be closer to the match your an important guest” he smiled you mouthed him a thank you and gathered your things walking a few rows closer to the front

-Thankfully Akaashi was there looking up at you distracting you. The owllike man glared at your old friend “I don’t know what you did to Y/N but you better leave before you have another problem”

-When you looked back your ex friend was nowhere to be seen you giggled as bokuto gave you a big kiss before returning to the court

Kozume Kenma

-Kenma isn’t a contentious person in fact he would much rather settle an issue in the most inconspicuous way possible

-Even so if he feels that him or his partner was disrespected in anyway he will not hesitate

-You and Kenma was at a gaming convention you had been planning since the beginning of February (it’s now late April)

-You had sat through the entrance ceremony and was walking around admiring all the stalls and you were both having so much fun

-Kenma had left you for a split second to get someone’s autograph it was the animator from a game he played religiously you didn’t mind you stayed put and was scrolling through your phone

-“Long time no see y/n” you lifted your head to the sound of your name being called and made perfect eye contact with an old ‘friend’

-If you were being completely honest you hated them all they did was make you feel like an inferior insect whenever you two were together you hummed a ‘yo’ before going back to your phone

-“Still a quiet freak eh LuLu I guess you here on your own or something”

-Lulu was the name of a magical girl from a cartoon you used to love but upon finding out people would use it to mock and degrade you

-you was gonna walk away the ridiculous nickname when you heard a familiar voice

-“no y/n is with me and you are?” It was a genuine question but anyone who didn’t know Kenma would take his pack of expression as bored or sarcastic

-The person scoffed and pointed accusingly at Kenma “That’s who your with LuLu you couldn't do any better HE’S JUST AS LIFELESS AS YOU ARE”

-You tugged on Kenma sleeve motioning to just leave as you felt uncomfortable but Kenma wasn’t having it you had been so excited to be here and with him and this nobody came out of nowhere and started harassing you

-“Listen um going to say this in a way you could understand— he smirked at you and then opened his mouth again

-What escaped his mouth next left you shocked, scared, a little embarrassed for him even but mostly touched

-he cleared his throat

-“lifeless. I’m not lifeless in fact I have a burning hatred for you right now. And that why I feel no guilt in what I’m about to do.”

-You gulped and held on tighter to kenma’s sleeve mentally preparing yourself for what he was about to do

-“YoU HaTe LuLu’S tRanSforMatiOn sOng?!” He practically shouted. Instantly a horde or gamers, writers, weebs and more bombarded the area shouting and screaming and causing a scene

- From all the commotion it’s sounded like your ‘friend’ was ok but some of the words leaving the mouths of the mob were kinda cruel

-you smirked and Kenma led you away

-You know he doesn’t like being the center of attention but he still protected you and for that you’d be sure to thank him for that

Kageyama Tobio

-Kags never really liked leaving you behind when he had to go to different countries

-without you it made him anxious and you would reassure him that you’d be fine and eagerly awaiting his return

-Including the return of his big, fat juicy—

Ahem heart 🙂

-You had been sitting in a café Face Timing him

-You’d often have dates like this and you both enjoyed them you was talking to him when someone took up a seat next to you

-“Hey Y/n funny running into you here” a familiar voice echoed

-A w k w a r d you hadn’t seen or heard from this person since a fight you had a couple years ago why now?

-You had nearly forgotten about your boyfriend on the other side of your iPad screen until “Oh you bought a friend y/n”

-you was at a loss for words but before you could answer the unwanted annoyance to your left answered for you

-‘We’re not friends y/n cut me off because she’s toxic” it took kageyama a solid 10 seconds to realize that this wasn’t a real friend and that you were silently asking for help

-You rested your head in hand obscuring the person from kags field of vision therefore blocking there vision of your face and boyfriend

-hoping they’d get the message without you having to vocalize it

-they stood up and you let out a breath you didn’t know you was holding

-“I wasn’t checking out your friend don’t worry he isn’t my type I prefer cute boys” they spat

-Before you could even assess the fact that they pretty much called your boyfriend ugly you was already pissed at the fact that they referred to kags as your friend

-you stood up abruptly and it’s like they were waiting for you to loose your cool all hope was lost when you heard him clear his throat

-“[there Instagram name] Damn you was easy to find. I liked you post”

-You felt a tinge of confusion race through you but watching all the blood in there body rush to your friends face made you curious

-“DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW” people were definitely looking in your direction

-“Leave then I will” Now you was curious what the help did he do?

-seconds, literal seconds. The annoyance was nowhere to be seen

-“Kags..wha—”

“I shared there IP address in the comments :p”

- “PFFT kAgS!”

Nishinoya Yū

-Noya made sure that you felt like the only person in the world before he asked you out, so when you started dating you didn’t think he could get any more protective over you

-You was sitting in the cinema with him both smiling and listening on to the movie

-He fidgets a lot in his seat but you dont mind you know he cant help it besides you find it cute he is just so full of energy

-“Babe imma go to the toilet be right back” he kissed your cheek and left

-you continue to watch the movie until you feel someone slither into the seat next to you and hearing the voice your your temples irks and your expression one of annoyance

-One of your ex friends for how many years ago had to be in the same theatre at the same time on the SAME FUCKING DAY

-they didn't seem like they were moving so you just spoke first

- “can i help you.?” 

-No response :/

-You were even more irritated than before

-Noya came back a few minutes later and noticed another person had sat right next to you 

-Noya is dense VERY VERY DENSE he assumed you ran into one of your friends so he didn't question it

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

-After the movie finished you grabbed your things and rushed to get out of that situation

-The same person had finally said something after a whole hour

- “That’s who you came with.. You really know how to pick em an annoying toddler really Y/n your honestly pathetic--”

-It didn’t bother Noya he has been called short all his life this isn’t any different but this rando was obviously upsetting you and he would NOT have that

-Noya would step infront of you and confront the person they get a warning 

-one fucking warning 

-If they don’t take it i shit you not noya is going for the ankles periodt

- “I DONT KNOW WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE BUT YOUR UPSETTING MY PARTNER THE FUCKING DOOR IS BEHIND YOU SO TURN AROUND”

-Noya looked like the aggressor and its safe to say he may have caused a scene but he would be a fool not to step in and protect you with all you got

#haikyuu hcs #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyū!! #noya fluff #noya x you #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya imagine #nishinoya hcs #nishinoya headcanons #kotaro bokuto #bokuto x reader #haikyuu blog #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto fluff #bokuto headcanons #bokuto hcs #kageyama #tobio imagine #tobio scenarios #haikyuu tobio #tobio fluff #kageyama tobio #kozume kenma #kenma #kenma x y/n #kenma headcanons #haikyuu kenma #Tsaru scenarios

[sideblog-666-thousand]

Euronymous Interview in Decibel of Death, ‘87. English Translation. Ft. Euronymous’ depraved torture fantasies involving Coca-Cola.

‘Decibel of Death’ was a French fanzine from the 80s. It’s first issue was released in ‘86, and by the summer of ‘87, it switched over from French to English-language. This has been my favourite interview of Euronymous for a long time now, so I decided I’d translate it to English so that other, non-francophone, people could enjoy it too. This issue in particular is from February of ‘87, and was their fourth issue overall.

I’ll add a link to where you can find this, and other D.O.D scans, below. If anybody wants me to translate more French, or Russian, interviews, feel free to PM me.

Note: NDLR is the editor’s notes. Any commentary or context by me will be in bold and in parenthesis, so feel free to totally ignore it. If something is between “« »” it’s because it was already written in English to begin with.

Disclaimer: if some of the sentences sound like the energizer bunny is hooked on an iv rig full of pure meth, don’t blame me, I did my best. Take it up with Euronymous himself. Also, I’m not excusing Euronymous’ poor behaviour, I’m just saying his poor behaviour is kind of entertaining.

Without further ado...

D.O.D: And once again, here’s Norwegian Mayhem. If you remember, we presented them to you back in the May issue of D.O.D. Since then, they released a new demo titled “Death Crush”!! Because of this event, we decided to ask the guitarist of this rather sinister band a few questions.

D.O.D: Okay, there’s been more than a few line-up changes in Mayhem. Can you tell us what the current one is?

Euro: Alright, there’s me on guitars, Manheim on battery, Necro-butcher on drums, and our session vocalist, Maniac.

D.O.D:  And what is the medium age of the group?

Euro: We are all 18 years old.

D.O.D: How long has Mayhem been around for?

Euro: Mayhem has been around since August of ‘84 with this line-up, before that, I played in another shitty metal group that was also called Mayhem. The other members also played in a crappy band before we all met.

D.O.D: How would you describe your music?

Euro: Ah, well, it’s like a wall of sound played at extreme speed all mixed with the sound of a chainsaw!!

D.O.D: In your opinion, who are the biggest posers on this planet?

Euro: That definitely has to be the Swedish group ‘Europe’. «Fuck them!!» I hate this band!!

D.O.D: Ha ha, what would you like to do to make them suffer?

(This is the exact moment where the interviewers realize that Euronymous is literally fucking insane. The editor censors some of the things Euronymous says because he has a very vulgar manner of speaking, so, brace yourselves. To make it abundantly clear— I didn’t censor any of this, if it was me, I’d let him continue swearing ‘til next year if he wanted to. Take it up with D.O.D!)

Euro: First of all, I’d cut them and make them eat their own (bleep)!! Then, I’ll fuck them in the ass with an empty bottle of Coke, and if they’re still alive somehow, I’ll drown them in their own piss!! (NDLR: I’d do the same to a few guys in Germany and Switzerland!!) But all of this is reserved for their guitarist, drummer and bassist, I have a far crueler torture for their singer, for him, I’m simply going to break his mirror and steal his perfume!! Haaaaafuckinghah!!! (NDLR: ahahahaha, this is so much fun!!)

D.O.D: Okay, Euronymous, onto more serious topics, who composes the most in Mayhem?

Euro: It’s me and Necro, but sometimes Manheim comes up with good riffs, he actually wrote most of P.F.A (Pure Fucking Armageddon)

D.O.D: I believe thrashers reacted pretty well to your first demo, right?

Euro: Despite the zero sound of this demo. It's true that it's actually the hardcore thrashers that appreciated it, although it was the others hating it that gave us an enormous promotion like with 'Metal Forces'.

D.O.D: Has there been groups that have influenced you?

Euro: Of course, early Venom has really inspired us, although we don’t sound like them in any way. We’re also influenced by bands like Hellhammer and Sodom.

D.O.D: Mayhem is a common band name, what do you think of other Mayhem (such as NYC Mayhem, Mayhem (WC), Mayhem (Oregon))?

Euro: NYC Mayhem* are excellent, I adore them! (NDLR: me too!!) and they call themselves NYC Mayhem. But as for the other Mayhems, they stink, «fuckin’ shit»,  like the Mayhem that’s on Metal Massacre VI*, they really stink, their music isn’t destructive like ours is at all, they don’t deserve this name, I hate them!!

D.O.D: I heard you guys played a show, how did that go?

Euro: It was really «cool», it was at a small rock festival that had around 3-400 «discofucks» (NDLR: this is the censored translation) and when we went on stage with our first session vocalist “Messiah”, we broke a bass over their mouths!! We gave these idiots hell!! Ha ha!! (I’ll link the show he’s referring to below)

D.O.D: And how did your other gigs go?

Euro: For now this has been our only show!! And we don’t know how the crowds will react at the prospect of future gigs.

D.O.D: Fair. Since we’re talking about future gigs, what will those be like?

Euro: They’ll be full of occult things, we’ll play in complete darkness and there’ll be red blood spots, chandeliers, smoke, and pig heads on stakes, it’ll be totally thrashing!!

D.O.D: How’s the Norwegian thrash scene? It’s pretty dull, no?

Euro: Right now, «it sucks», there’s no audience, but it seems to be going in the right direction with bands like Vomit*, Septic Cunts, Decay Lust, and Flowers in The Dustbin.

D.O.D: And what kind of things are your lyrics about?

Euro: depravity, like tearing someone’s (bleep), eating worms, and all those fine things!!

D.O.D: What are your favourite bands?

Euro: Really hard question, there’s so many good bands coming out but I think the bands I like the most are old Venom, Deathchamber, Sodom, Necrophagia, Destruction, Death, Kreator, Poison. (No, not THAT Poison)

D.O.D: Do you ever listen to hardcore?

Euro: «Yeah» I like Chaotic Discord, Septic Death, UK Subs, and others. It hasn’t been that long since I went to see Disorder and it was awesome!!

D.O.D: Are you considering going on tour?

Euro: No, not exactly. But soon we’ll play at a Norwegian thrash festival. We’ll also play at a thrash festival in Copenhagen, and probably do a few shows with Kreator/Necrophagia in ‘87.

(No, this isn’t a typo on my end, it actually says ‘87. There’s two reasons why this might be the case. One, it could be an error on the part of the editor, who deserves an interview of his own, or two, it could be an error by Euronymous himself since the interview might have been conducted in January. Euronymous could have mixed the years up as one sometimes does. However, ‘Death Crush’, the demo, actually came out in March of ‘87. What the interviewer and Euronymous are referring to as ‘Death Crush’ is likely ‘Death Rehearsal’, which is exactly what it sounds like, and was taped back January of ‘87.)

D.O.D: I heard you guys are recording a new demo, is it ready?

Euro: We just entered the studio to record the second “Death Crush” demo, but at the moment, we only have three songs. I’m also unsure of whether or not we’ll have enough money to record anything else, and the vocals still haven’t been put to music!!

D.O.D: There’s some rumours that you guys were contacted by certain record labels, is this true?

Euro: It’s true, we got a letter from Axe killer records saying that they were interested in us but they never listened to our music and I also sent them our demo tape but I don’t believe we’ll be receiving any letters from them now!!

D.O.D: Do you have anything to add?

Euro: Of course, «fucking ARGHHHH!!»

There, that’s all :)

If you’re interested in some of the asterisks I put in, here they are in order of their appearances:

*Unlike most of the bands Euronymous named in this interview, NYC Mayhem (and later as Straight Ahead) never released more than a few demo. They were a straight edge band from, you guessed it, NYC— Queens to be exact. Despite never releasing a full album, their sound inspired some grindcore and death metal bands, notably Carcass. They were also straight edge, which makes Euronymous’ mental breakdown over the Mayhem that was on Metal Massacre very, very ironic. Especially considering he was pretty straight edge himself, especially back in 1987– outside of maybe smoking some pot.

Here is their 1985 demo, https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=t-3geR1JbY4

*Metal Massacre is a series of compilation albums starting in 1982, released by Metal Blade records. Typically, these were independent and unsigned bands. Some notable ones include Metallica on the first edition with ‘Hit the lights’. Slayer in ‘83 with ‘Aggressive Perfector’. The ‘84 edition had Voivod, Overkill, and Hellhammer.

The one which Euronymous is referring to, however, is the one from ‘85. Here it is, the timestamp is 14:19 https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=HqwfsLvLvuY

It’s really not that bad— certainly not worth the double exclamation points.

*If you don’t know who Vomit are, you must not know much about early Mayhem. They were another thrash band who shared rehearsal space with Mayhem. Torben Grue and Kittil Kittilsen (what a sad fucking name) were also ‘in’ Mayhem at some point. Kittil once shaved off his eyebrow, but I don’t know why. Here is a picture of the dork:

The show Euronymous is talking about: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=mjay2Lmj9C8 yes, this is the show where Euronymous flashes his ass. I think it’s funny because he talks big but he seemed very hesitant to do it, and practically ducked backstage afterwards. Necro, on the other hand, was very proud to have broken his bass.

Well, that’s all I have. If you read this far, I hope you enjoyed the additional notes I left. Outside of a few more interviews of Mayhem, I also have a few obscure Emperor interviews that were posted to the internet in late 90s. There’s an especially funny one where Faust is allowed to interview Ihsahn and Samoth from prison. He’s sarcastic the entire time, refers to the readers as ‘morons’ and proclaims everyone should all die in a nuclear war with the same energy you cross yourself with. Overall, it’s a funny read. I also have one where he interviews Varg, and Euronymous (separately) for his own ‘zine back in the early 90s. Actually— I have A LOT of interviews of Faust for some reason, including two where he’s actually on camera. I might post them if I feel like it, or if somebody wants them. Is anyone here an especially big fan of Faust?

Last but not least, here is the link to the ‘zine:

http://france.metal.museum.free.fr/revues/fanzines/decibel_of_death/04/page_03.htm

#euronymous #mayhem #interview #black metal #true norwegian black metal #I typed this out so it’s mine #Euronymous interview #gee I really hope nobody else posted a translation of this because it took forever #can we make haaafuckinghah a thing?

[honestsycrets]

The Phantom I: Think of Me | Ubbe x Reader x Ivar

❛ pairing | ivar x reader x ubbe

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | you're used to a life with the phantom. his company feels like home.

❛ tags | slight violence, phantom of the opera au, love triangles, original characters.

❛ sy’s notes | this piece has been a long time coming. each chapter will be named according to soundtrack pieces. the introductory scene is probably reminiscent of the movie, i really want to recreate those feelings for me. @alicedopey

The Opera was loud today. Usually, the flutter of shoes downstairs, the rush to change costume, or the giggles from flirtatious girls was typical. Sigurd would lower backdrops as beautiful ballerinas crossed him, dreaming of life not as the keeper of backstage: but as a musician. He loved the dancing girls. You rushed down the stairs to the bottom floor and binding it with soft ribbons passing rich crimson curtains of the stage. Madame Gunnhild reprimanded you for your heavy steps, reminding you that this was not folk music. This was ballet. Powerful, yes. But not unnecessarily loud.

The only loud one was the star whose voice rattled the stage. Her presence incited the glamour of a fat cat. Not that she was plump; perhaps she would be happier, rather than hungrily scrounging and screaming and howling for more and more. Signora Stella was insatiable.

“It’s because someone is coming for tonight’s gala. She wants to make sure he knows who she is. Didn’t you hear?” Adeline whispered. “Bjorn sold the Opera.”

“Is that really true?” The dancers convened on the stage for a final run-through of the opera Hannibal. For which your pink gossamer silk slave piece so appropriately draped off your hips while she stood donned in gold and red, strutting around the stage.

“It’s not FAIR!” Her eye was squarely upon manager Halfdan. His soft eyebrows bundled together as she berated him with her latest complaint. At his side, his brother stood with his hand settled nicely into the taupe pocket of his slacks. You recognized them. Bjorn brought them in the deep quiet of dance rehearsals. Harald especially loved the dancers. He loved to watch them spin along the stage like a top.

“Signora,” Halfdan’s sweet voice consoled. You rushed around her stony body, her beautiful blonde hair wrought in delicate curls. “La mia Stella,” he crooned. There was a softness to the way his dirty blonde hair framed his gentle eyes.

“I am the star, me! Me, me, me!” her foot cracked down on the hardwood floor. She gestured toward your ruddy-haired friend, then you, biting out her complaint. “Not one of these-- these dancing girls can sing like I!”

“We know, Signora.”

“Then who dressed-- them?”

Harald crossed his arms over one another, glancing toward his boots. It could never just be the voice. It was an experience. For a man like Harald, whose artistic expression was about in line with that of a straw doll, it meant costume.

“You will be the focus. We will give you a solo. Just for you!”

“A new song?” she turned, the wheels of her brain suddenly spinning again. She ran her ringed hand down Halfdan’s pressed deep blue suit, drawing her ruby nails up to tap him on the nose. “What kind of song?”

“Think of Me,” said Harald.

“Think of Me!” she squawked. “That is perfect. Perfect for a girl like me! Can you imagine me-- a childhood lover-- in Paris?”

No, you couldn’t. Even Paris was too muted for her taste.

“Well?” she looked toward your group. “Get off my stage. Especially you,” she pointed her finger between Adeline and you. You’re not sure who she’s talking about. “Fat little frog.”

It’s better not to push. You take Adeline in one hand and, with the other, the sheer fabric. The orchestra wretched alive again as the awful vocalizations filled the auditorium, reverberating your ear. Think of Me never sounded worse.

Still, it must be nice, you think, to be an opera star by virtue of birth. Sour with embarrassment but saved by the prospect of dance, you delighted in knowing that Stella would soon leave after her songs were sung to a T. A woosh of air hair threw your hair over your shoulders. It was compounded by her harsh scream and filling the auditorium. You glanced from the floor to the upper stage where, if you looked closely, you might have seen a shadow flitting across the bridge with the aid of the banister.

“Up up up up! Get me OUT FROM UNDER HERE!”

“Sigurd!” Halfdan boomed. “What are you doing up there!?”

“I wasn’t up there.”

Your fingers left your locket when Sigurd hiked up the stairs beside you. His dark trousers were stained with paint, as was his crisp white dress shirt, pulled apart with a pretty blue smear across his chest. You peered over Sigurd to see the black drop clattered over Stella’s back, pressing her chest to the ground and chin quivering in horror.

“So it fell on its own?” Harald accused belligerently.

“I never said that. Signora. The Opera is full of strange magic.” he stood upright, helping her stand on quivering heels, shouting in awful pain. He quirked his head. “Oh, she won’t be able to perform on that.”

She jabs her finger into Harald’s chest, deliberately on his fine silk tie. Then Halfdan, whirling a curse. Stella squealed with renewed vigor. “You see what you’ve done! I hate you! I hate you! And I hate this-- this phantom!”

“Not that again,” Harald rolled his eyes.

The light in her eyes burst, soaring through the surface like an explosion across the surface. How awfully she punched him, shouting about his indignation in not paying the Phantom his salary-- before flitting down the steps on a beating heel. She would be back. Maybe not today, but another. Sigurd dragged the fallen backdrop to the side, inspecting the thick-cut rope and all its seeming imperfections.

“Can we reschedule for next week?” said one.

“We need a new star,” said the other. “Every day is the same.”

Adeline leaned her aquiline nose into your curls, “Do you think it was him?”

An awful warmth flooded your belly. Should you rejoice in a woman’s abuse? No, but at the same time, it meant she would not be here to berate the ballerinas. There was no one there.

“She can sing it for you, Harald.” At that moment, Madame Gunnhild hooked her arms under your arms. Harald turned on his boot to Gunnhild, a sultry smile playing on his lips. “What? Her?”

“No, Madame. Please.” You choked on your own words in the attempt to process what she meant. She wove her spindly fingers in your hand, jerking you toward the middle of the stage. For a moment, your heart seized to beat, blood ran still, and you might have fainted by the curiosity in the brothers’ eyes.

“Shh,” she whispered into your ear. “I know you can sing Think of Me. I’ve heard you sing with him.”

If you ever have a moment, spare a thought for me.

Your stomach leapt with uncertainty in the silence of the room. Outside, gossip ran like a bolt of lightning across the sky. Stella’s replacement was never a position you hoped to have. Not for a day, nor an hour but here you were, dabbing your lips with a pink product after intermission in your father’s old room. His picture sat framed by photos of your family: Thyri, Siggy, and him. Your hand trembled as you seized it. Then, falling away, you looked toward the letter that sat square in front of you.

“You have a letter from the Opera Ghost,” Gunnhild had said. Usually, those words would have inspired anyone with fear. Instead, it filled your belly with fervor, a soft pinkness that dusted over your cheeks soften than any blush you could apply. “Open it when you’re alone.”

You fluttered your eyes, hoping that the excitement in your belly was just a built-up from this corset that restricted your breathing. Breath swelled in your chest. You hooked a letter opener under the blotchy gold seal.

“Bellisima.”

The voice echoed through the room. Your physician Athelstan told you it was nothing: a figment of your imagination that you ought to hush about-- or they would send you away. Your angel was a kiss from God and nothing more. Your chest swelled with a heavy breath, fixing the earrings into your ear. They looked like the very stars that shone on the rooftop of the opera house. The voice filled the room, a soft sing-song that bounced from wall to wall and filled you with something like peace.

“Open it, my sweet.”

“It frightens me,” you murmured.

“Don’t be frightened.”

With a flick of your letter opener, you forced the crisp letter apart. In it, a square of parchment sat nestled between a glimmering gold chain. It was a glorious gold chain and, at the end of it, a singular heart locket. There was a knock at your door just as you inspected the inscription etched into its surface.

“May I come in?”

Whether or not you’d agree, Harald already came in. He was a man of tall stature despite his height. Wherever he carried himself, there was respect. You knew him to be in love with Gunnhild, and though she gave him no attention, you knew his intentions for her.

“Do you want to sit down?” you offered. Harald drew off his taupe jacket to figure with a tucked letter in his black breast coat. He held it out to you. You took it, bracelets jingling and saw that inside was a wealth of currency.

“Oh-- this is…” you murmured. “More than I can accept.”

“You knew the viscount, don’t you?”

The viscount Ragnar, you recall. Your cheeks warmed with his memory—a thin child with honey brown hair and a big heart. Harald kneeled before you, running his hand on top of your fluffy pink ball dress.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“It has been a while,” you gesture to your photo of your father, reminded by the memory of the land you left behind in Scandinavia. “He probably wouldn’t remember me.”

“I’d wager you’re wrong. Put in a good word for us. He’ll be hard-pressed not to notice you,” he pauses. He rolled his finger through your long curl. It slipped away from his finger as he took his bunched-up suit jacket and opened the door. “As beautiful as you look tonight.”

“I-- thank you.”

The door clasps shut. You didn’t need this money, you murmured. But perhaps the children could use bread. Your attention fell to the necklace around your neck. If you turned the gold pendant over and over again between your fingertips, you could calm the racing of your heart. Today, you would be Elissa. Tomorrow, maybe a chorus girl once again. It was your time. The Ubbe from your memory was just that: a memory.

“Sing it again.”

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071​ @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer​ @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor @strangunddurm @superwolfchild-fan

#ubbe x reader #ivar x reader #Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader #ubbe ragnarsson x reader #vikings imagines #viking imagine #ubbe x reader x ivar #ivar x reader x ubbe #vikings/reader #ivar/reader #ubbe/reader

[heresalittlestory]

The Gala Event

By The Scoop

‐-----------------------------

You’re at your desk at work one afternoon, taking a break to check your personal email. You get excited when you see that you have a message from Adam Yauch of the Beastie Boys. You’ve known him for a little over a decade, as you did some work for the Milarepa fund in the 90’s.  You’re kind of surprised that you’ve casually stayed in touch with him for all of these years, and even though you’d call him more of an acquaintance than a friend, he’s always been very nice and sweet when you’ve spent time together.  The last time you saw him was a few years ago, when his band was in town touring their To The 5 Boroughs album.

You see some other messages in your inbox, but click on Adam’s first.  He writes that the Beastie Boys will be in your town this summer to tour their upcoming record, and wonders if you’d like to hang out then.  He gives the date for the show, and refers to it a Gala Event, for which you should dress up.  He says there will be another more casual show the night after, and you’re welcome to come to that one, too.  You don’t want to come across as being too eager, but decide to write him back straight away that you’ll be around, and would love to see him in August.  

The following week, you see a news announcement about Beastie Boys tour dates, and feel special that Adam gave you a heads up about them first.  Since that message, you’ve been writing back and forth more frequently, catching each other up on how you’ve been for the past couple of years.  He seems a little more communicative than he was around the time of the previous tour, and you try not to read too much into that.  You’ve always thought he was very attractive, but kept things professional at first with him, and then platonic, assuming those feelings only went one way.  You’ve also both been in relationships over the past decade, and Adam has a daughter, Lila.  You’re not exactly sure about the current status of Adam’s relationship with Lila’s mom, as it’s not something he opens up about a lot, or that gets much attention in the press.

One day Adam sends an email asking whether you’ve picked out something nice to wear yet, and he adds a wink after the question.  You feel your stomach flip, as you can’t tell whether or not he’s being flirtatious.  It also reminds you that you still haven’t settled on your ensemble for the Gala.  You generally don’t dress up too much and aren’t in love with anything in your closet, so decide to go shopping.

At the store, after trying on a lot of things, you settle on a red dress.  The color choice seems a little bold, but you look good in red, and want to stand out from others who will probably be wearing a lot of black.  You feel a little ridiculous also thinking about your undergarments, but decide to buy a new bra and panties for the show, too.  Even if no one else sees them, they’ll make you feel good for that night.

As it gets closer to the date of the show, Adam calls you.  You’re reminded how much you love the tone of his voice and trace of a New York accent.  He mentions that the band will be busy with interviews beforehand, so he probably won’t get to see you till after the show.  He says he’ll put you on his personal guest list, and to make sure you find him backstage later.  You say that sounds like a plan.  Before hanging up, he adds “Don’t forget to dress to impress.”

The day of the show comes, it’s a Friday, and you’re feeling a mix of nerves and excitement.  You tell yourself you’re being silly and to calm down: there’s never been any funny business between you and Adam before, so why should this time be any different?  You’ve been single for about a year now, but you’re still not sure of Adam’s status, and Google didn’t provide any help figuring that out.  In any case, you can’t help but think that you’ve picked up on some flirtation in the correspondence, and something in your gut signals that maybe you should be expecting more than just a friendly hang out tonight.

You arrive at the venue early, and feel a sense of pride seeing your name on Adam’s list.  You’re also handed an access pass to use later in the night.  You make your way up toward the front of the concert hall and see Adam’s bass rig, noticing that a lot of the equipment is clear, which has a cool look.  There are a few bass guitars on stage, including a large upright one.  You’ve always thought Adam looked sexy on the bass, and you’re looking forward to seeing him play more of it tonight.

When the band comes out and takes their places, you spot Adam in a black suit and sunglasses, he appears very dapper.  His hair is a little grown out and looks really nice.  You glance at the others, and though they all look handsome in their suits, Adam Yauch definitely stands out the most to you.

The band starts playing an instrumental that sounds vaguely familiar.  Adam is on the upright bass, and during the song, pulls out a bow with which to play it.  You’re taken aback at how hot it is when he maneuvers the bow over the bass strings.  The rich, deep sound resonates through your body.

Adam switches to another bass guitar, and the band starts playing a song off the new record.  You enjoy watching Adam’s large, skillful hands on the bass.  He flicks the strings a lot with his thumb, and it’s hard for your mind not to wander into the gutter seeing that repetitive motion.  You look at Adam intently, wondering if you’ll catch his eye, but it’s hard to tell with the sunglasses on.

When the band begins a song with vocals, the crowd gets more pumped up, and you’re excited, too.  It’s cool to see them rap while playing instruments.  Adam’s bass strumming has been getting to you, and now his husky rapping is, too.  After a few songs, he takes off his sunglasses and jacket.  He’s wearing a short-sleeve striped shirt, and a tie with some design on it, with a tie pin.  You’re trying to make the out the details on Adam’s tie, and think you see a lion on it, which reminds you that he’s a Leo.  You remember back to when you once looked up your astrological compatibility, not that you entirely believe in those things.  You look back up and see that Adam is staring in your direction, smiling.  You mouth “hey” to him, and he nods in recognition.

You feel a small jolt of electricity as the band goes into the next instrumental.  Maybe it’s something about the suave outfit and his long fingers on the bass, but you’re feeling more attracted to Adam than you’ve felt at previous Beastie Boys shows.  You notice other details, like his persistent gum chewing, and how he’s been taking his ear piece in and out throughout the show.  You brace yourself when the upright bass comes back out.  You can’t deny that you’re turned on by the way Adam strokes the bass neck and moves his fingers across the strings.  You try to calm down, as you’ll be seeing him after the show, and don’t want to feel embarrassed by such thoughts.  It doesn’t help that from this close, you can see his sweat glistening.  

The band gets to Sabotage, and you know it’ll be the last song of the night.  You see out of the corner of your eye that their keyboardist is doing some crazy moves, but you can’t take your eyes off Adam.  He takes his bass off at the end of the song and picks up a water bottle.  You watch Adam wave as he walks off stage, and swear that you catch him winking at you.

As the crowd starts to file away, you get your access pass out of your purse and use it to get in the back area of the venue.  You’re eventually let into a room where the band is.  You admittedly feel some relief when you see that Adam’s partner (or former partner?) isn’t around, as both Mike’s and Adrock’s wives are there.  Mike’s young sons are running around the room too.  You’re feeling pretty dehydrated, but take a glass of champagne when a tray of it is passed by you.  At least you have something to occupy your hands with now.  You take some sips and try to get Adam to notice you.  Your eyes meet and he wraps up the conversation he was having.  He walks over to you and says, “Hey, red…,” instead of calling you by your name, “love the dress.”  You blush a little and thank him.  You notice he’s changed from the button down top into a polo shirt.  He manages to look very cute and sexy all at once.  You tell him how much you enjoyed the show and seeing the full band play throughout. “Oh thanks, you weren’t too bored? It seems like some people prefer the hip hop shows.”

You notice that the room is beginning to clear out.  Adam mentions that some of the band and crew are heading to a nearby bar, “I said I’d be catching up with an old friend, if you’d rather bail on that.”  You’re happy that he’s mentioned an out, though you’re not quite sure what he has in mind for you both.  “Hang on a sec,” Adam says as he grabs his backpack, and also something that looks like an instrument holder, “just gonna take some things back with me.”

You step out the venue door and Adam gently touches the small of your back with his free hand.  A shiver goes up your spine.  Adam remarks that the hotel is nearby, so you walk the few blocks there.  It’s one of the nicer hotels in town.  This is the first time you’ve been back to a hotel with him.  It seems like it could be the prelude to a hook up, but you still don’t want to get caught up in wishful thinking.

You and Adam get in the elevator and he pushes the button for a high floor.  “And here we are,” he remarks, opening the door into a large suite.  “Not too shabby,” you note, looking around.  “Yeah, we do alright now,” Adam responds with a chuckle.  He has the cutest sounding laugh, and you love how his smile is emphasized by his overbite.  You don’t think of yourself as a very funny person, but you know that Adam can be, and you hope to joke with him and hear more of his laughter when you’re together.  You realize you’ve gotten a little lightheaded from the champagne.  As if reading your mind, Adam asks if you want something to eat or drink.  There are several water bottles lined up on the counter, and he hands you one.  He opens the door to the mini bar, which is pretty well stocked.  You sit down and snack together.

The conversation flows easily enough.  You share a lot of cultural interests, but also fill each other in on some things that the other hasn’t heard about.  Adam recommends a documentary called the 11th hour, about how dire global warming has gotten and the opportunities we have to address the situation before it’s too late.  You’re not surprised to hear him sound passionate on the topic.  Meanwhile, you’re slightly distracted, as you can’t help but be really curious by now about his relationship status.  He’s mentioned his daughter in emails, so you think of using kids as a way to broach the topic.  You mention how you saw Mike’s sons backstage.  “Oh yeah, they’ve been coming along, and Lila’s been with me some of the tour, but her mom has her now.”  It sounds to you like they may not be an item anymore.  All you say in response is, “Oh…,” and then Adam continues, “yeah, it’s been about a year and a half actually, things didn’t work out between us.  But it was friendly, well, about as friendly as those things can be.  We still live near each other in the city, and pretty much share custody, so it works out at least, in that way.”  You want Adam to be happy and on the one hand, are sorry to hear that the relationship, which involved a kid, didn’t work out.  But on the other hand, you feel glad, as selfish as it may be, that Adam could be available now.  If he’s even interested in you in that way.

You tell him you’re sorry to hear what happened, but are glad he still gets to see Lila a lot.  “Yeah, being a dad, it’s the greatest…,” he starts to say, and then trails off, looking at you as if what he said may have had some effect on you.  You’re a single woman in your early 40’s, so the child-bearing window may be not open too much longer. You used to think that you’d be married and a mom by this point in your life, but after your longest, most serious relationships ended in your 30’s, you haven’t met anyone who’s been that great a prospect.  Adam knows some of your story already.  You don’t want to bore him with extra information about the ups and downs of your love life, so you mention that you haven’t been seeing anyone for a while, and really enjoy being an aunt to your niece and nephew.

Adam moves from the chair to a loveseat and motions for you to join him.  He has his arm up on the sofa cushion, which you take as a cue to sit a little closer to him.  “I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight.  You know, red’s a really great color for you.”  You feel his eyes scanning your body, and you’re flattered to be complimented by someone so attractive, talented, and intelligent.  The conversation goes to how long you’ve known each other and how you always enjoy each other’s company.  You wonder why you haven’t gotten together more often through the years.  Adam’s hand moves down to your shoulder, and he seems to be looking at you more intently.  He’s so gorgeous from this close, with large, soulful eyes, and full lips that you want to kiss so badly.  You feel yourself flushing and swooning.  You take your chances and move your face a little closer to his, and are delighted when you sense him lean in for a kiss.

Your lips touch softly at first.  You detect a minty flavor, which must have lingered from his gum.  You inhale and enjoy his smell, it’s slightly musky, and you think of how sweaty he got during the show.  You normally prefer for guys to be cleaned up, but find it a turn on for Adam to be in this state.  The kiss turns more passionate soon as your tongues meet and explore each other’s mouths.

You kiss and suck at each other more feverishly, feeling the heat from each other’s bodies.  You run your hands through his thick hair, and up and down his lean back.  He slides a hand down along your side, it grazes the edge of your breast and then settles on your thigh.  Adam moves his hand to the inner side of your knee, just underneath your dress.  You squeeze his hand between your thighs, thinking of how close his fingers are to where you really want to be touched.  You usually don’t get wet as easily as you did when you were younger, but it’s like Adam has opened up the floodgates inside of you.  You don’t necessarily buy into everything happening for a reason, but you’re glad you’re hooking up with Adam at this stage in your life.  You feel more comfortable with yourself and sexually confident now.  As much as you’re enjoying kissing Adam, you decide to back out of the embrace, and see if he’s game for something different.  You’d be fine having any kind of sex with him, but you want to try to make the evening memorable.  You also recall how great he looked playing the bass, and that gives you an idea.  

“Is everything okay?” Adam asks.  “Oh yeah, I’m good, really good,” you say, reassuring him that you’re pleased with the direction in which things are moving.  “I was just thinking about the show again, and what a great bass player you are.”    

“Me?  I don’t know, I guess if you work at something long enough.”

You’re touched that he seems so humble about his talent.  “It just looks complicated.  I mean, especially that big bass.  I can barely strum a few chords on the guitar.”

“It’s not so hard to pick up if you practice for a while, and…,” he trails off.

“And what?”

“Well, this might sound silly, but my hands are pretty big, which makes it easier to play, I guess.” Adam turns his hands over and you hold them in yours, as your mind moves back into the gutter.  You don’t think you’ve ever been with a guy who has hands quite like his.

 “Why don’t you show me?” you request, pulling Adam up from the couch.  “What’s that song called, Sabrosa?”

“I don’t have the bass here with me.”

You look at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes, “I mean, demonstrate on me…”

Adam smirks in response, “Oh, I think I know what you’re getting at.”  He stands behind you, and you ask, “Doesn’t Sabrosa mean tasty?”

“Something like that,” he answers with a

chuckle- it’s music to your ears to hear that laughter again.  “Okay then, this is the hand that goes on the bass neck,” he states, putting his left hand on your breast.  He arranges his dexterous fingers into some formation, as if he were playing bass notes.  “And this one here, it plays the strings,” Adam continues, moving his right hand onto your crotch.  He brushes his long fingers against you, as if he’s both swiping at and strumming you.  Just as you’re wondering what kind of fuckery this is, Adam says, “And sometimes, you have to put your whole body into it.” He presses against you, and you feel his cock pulse against your backside.  You can’t help but tremble from the ripples of pleasure coursing through you.  Adam comments, “well, it goes something like that, playing the song, but the bass doesn’t move quite that much.”  He giggles again.  You didn’t want him to stop “playing” you, but you enjoy being teased.

“You know, I actually brought something with me,” Adam starts, and goes over to what you thought was an instrument case.  He opens it and reveals the bow inside.  If he doesn’t have his bass with him, you wonder why he brought the bow.  You’re pleased at the forethought this would have required, and that his mind might be in the same kinky place as yours.  “I like using this bow sometimes, you can get a really nice sound out of the bass with it.”  Adam comes back over to you, gripping the bow as if he were about to use it on a bass.  He rubs the bow string back and forth on your dress, right over your sensitive area.  You make a pleased hum, and Adam brings the bow across you one more time, “Works like a charm.”

“I think you need to help me unzip my dress now,” you state.  “Sure thing,” Adam replies, placing the bow back down.  He undoes your zipper, but the dress still hangs loosely from your hips.  “Maybe I can use this again,” Adam says, picking up the bow.  You stand still as he uses the bow to nudge the dress down over your hips.  Your breath quickens and you step out of the dress.  You’re glad now that you splurged for the nice underwear.  Adam eyes you up and down and gives a little whistle, “well you dressed to impress, and I’d say, this is also undressing to impress.”  Your body isn’t as slim as it used to be, but you’re still in decent shape for your age.  You’re glad he seems to appreciate you as you are.

“I think it’s your turn now,” you declare, and Adams removes his shirt and pants pretty quickly.  He’s remained trim, but that doesn’t surprise you, as he’s always been a skinny guy.  Seeing all his skin, and body hair, makes your groin ache even more.  You get another idea, which seems a little crazy for foreplay, but you’re on a roll, and decide to speak up again.  “Let’s go to the bedroom,” you declare, as you lead Adam by the hand to the king-sized bed.  You tell him to lie on his back.  You stand over him and strip off your bra and underwear.  “I want to feel you all over, with my cunt,” you say, as you lower yourself down near his feet, “if you’re cool with that.”  Adam looks at you expectantly and replies, “I’m game for whatever.”

You’re not quite sure what’s come over you.  You realize you’ve had latent feelings for Adam for years, and they’re all bubbling to the surface now.  And he’s so hot it’s like he’s awakened some primal instinct in you.  Sure, you’ve humped guys’ thighs before when feeling frisky, or rubbed an arm against your crotch, but you’ve never done anything like what you’re planning now.  You grab one of Adam’s feet, they’re large like his hands, with long toes.  “So, do you have a foot thing?” Adam asks.

“No,” you blush a little, feeling kind of embarrassed, but Adam seems open-minded enough.  “As I said, I just want to feel all your parts- here.”  You take hold of his big toe, and move it toward your crotch.  Adam’s propped up on his elbows and watching with interest.  You press his toe against your labia, and rock back and forth against it.  “Someone’s very wet,” Adam comments.  You think how you’ll be leaving a trail along his body.  You hold his foot as you move over his ankle, and then slowly slide up his shin, feeling his leg hair against you.  You ask Adam to bend his legs so you can get onto his knee.  “Knee fucking? Can’t say I’ve done that before,” Adam remarks, laughing again.  Not in a laughing at you kind of way, but in an enjoying being your partner in crime kind of way.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”  You feel kind of proud for debasing him, considering that he probably did some debauched things in his early years with the band.  You move in small circles around his knee.  You feel so wet and pliable, almost as if your cunt could swallow his kneecap.  You’re in a nice zone where everything feels really good between your legs.

You continue with this body part exploration, sliding down his thigh.  Adam’s boxers are still on and you can tell he’s semi-erect.  As eager as you are to bring his cock into action, you move past it.  You dip down to reach his concave torso, rubbing along the patch of hair that extends from over his waistband to above his navel.  You feel the bump from his ribcage, and rub over a nipple as you move up.  You ask Adam to sit up, admiring his bare shoulders.  You lower yourself onto the bony part, and press against it for a while.

Adam has been watching you with bemusement.  You get off his shoulder and position his arm so that his elbow juts out.  You pull that protrusion into your crotch, liking how that feels as well.  You’re excited to be getting close to his forearms, as you were looking at them with desire during the concert.  You ask Adam to lie back down and move on top of one of his forearms.  His arm hairs tickle your cunt as your slickness slides against him.  You love how he’s not hairy all over but has furry forearms and legs.  You feel kind of like a dog humping at him, but don’t care as it’s so pleasurable.  Adam’s free hand grabs your ass.  You move lower down to reach his wrist bone, too.

You get up and hold onto one of his oversized hands.  You feel like your cunt could just devour it.  You rub your thumb along the patch of hair that extends onto the back of his hand, and then press a few of Adam’s knuckles into your folds.  You then grasp his index and middle fingers.  You notice a crook in the top joint of his middle finger.  These little features somehow make you hornier for him, if that’s even possible.  You shove his fingers into your soaking cunt, and moan as you feel how deep inside of you they reach.  Adam continues to let you be the driver; you know that he could make you come if he did something with his hands, but you’re still trying to delay that final gratification.  You take his fingers out and bring them up to his mouth.  You’re pleased that he reads the cue and licks at your wetness.

You motion for Adam to sit up, and brush his hair back to look more closely at his ear.  Even the size and shape of this man’s ears get to you. You’ve never been so into all these details with any other guy before.  It’s like he’s a perfectly beautiful creation.  You position Adam’s head so you can get at his ear with your cunt, starting at the earlobe and working your way up along the outer edge.  Adam shivers a little and you ask if he’s alright.  

“Yeah, I guess I’m just sensitive there- a good sensitive.”  You press against the ridge of his ear again and he emits a soft, low grunt.    

You ask Adam to lie down once again.  You’re still studying what a gorgeous face he has.  You move your fingertip gently across his long eye lashes.  “Yo, I’m not sure that’ll work,” Adam comments, and you both start laughing.  “Okay, we’ll leave your eyes out of this,” you say, though catch him off guard as you move your groin over his hairline.  You’ve been admiring his hair all evening, it looks adorable now sticking up in different directions.  You feel its texture along your most intimate spots.  You then position yourself above Adam’s nose- his lovely nose, with its long, strong line, and small bump near the top.  Adam takes a big inhale and you gently ride his nose.  You hit against his upper lip, but surprise him again by hopping off before getting to all of his mouth.  “I’m moving here now,” you remark, as you sit back against the pillows and spread your legs, finally beckoning Adam to have his way with you.  

     “You know, I just remembered, I have one more thing in the case,” Adam says.  You’re so ready for more now, but you wait as he goes into the other room to get whatever’s in the case.  He comes back into the bedroom with his ear piece from the concert, dangling around his neck.  That ear piece, that you watched him keep pulling out and pushing in, being turned on by the motions.  Adam stands at the foot of the bed and takes off his underwear.  You don’t always get that excited over the sight of a man’s cock, viewing it as more of a utilitarian appendage, but of course Adam’s looks just as nice as the rest of his body does.

     “Maybe I should have gotten this out earlier, you’re probably too wet for it now,” Adam remarks, holding up one end of the ear piece.  He continues, “I’ve got a spare, of course, but I don’t know what I’d tell the crew about how I wrecked this pair,” he laughs a little more.  Adam comes onto the bed and rubs the ear piece along your leg, moving it up to your inner thigh.  Once again, you’re thankful and pleased that he’s also had kinky ideas.  The ear piece reaches the top of your thigh, then Adam places it in between your collar bones.  He slides it down between your breasts, and stops above your crotch.  You’re thinking how turned on you’d be if he pressed it against you there, but he touches with his finger and says, “yeah, too wet, as I knew, maybe another time.”  At the mention of “another time,” it feels like your heart skips a beat.

     You ask, “did you have anything else in that case?”

     “Nah, that was it.  I’d considered bringing a bass pick, too, but thought it could be a little too sharp,” and you both laugh together.  You like how you can move seamlessly between funny and erotic moments with him.  “Well, these look really soft,” you say, moving your fingers along his lips.  Your cunt quivers as you trace his bow-shaped upper lip.

     Adam places the ear piece on the night stand and brushes his slim fingers along your inner thighs.  Then he brings his mouth to your thighs- kissing, licking, and taking little bites along the way.  You’re so turned on already you feel like you might come almost as soon as his mouth touches your cunt.  He’s taking his time getting to the sweet spot.  He licks along where your thigh meets your groin on both sides.  He then moves up and squeezes your breasts together.  He starts sucking on one nipple while grabbing the other breast, and switches off.  Your whole body feels on fire.  Then he moves back down and kisses your labia, finally getting between them.  When he starts licking and sucking at your depths, it feels amazing.  You cry out in ecstasy, only wondering for a moment how soundproof the hotel walls are.  You mutter “oh fuck” and “oh god” as Adam continues to satisfy you.  He looks up at you, and it’s nearly too intense to meet his gaze.  You grab a handful of his luscious hair as he buries his head in you again, and you rock against him. You sense the sweet release coming soon, and convulse as all the pleasure that’s been building up through the evening reaches a crescendo.  You feel like you’re seeing stars.

     As you slowly come back to your senses, Adam remarks, “well, I guess that worked out better than the ear piece.”  You respond, “or the bass pick,” and playfully shove his shoulder.    “You’ve really been great,” you say, placing your hand on his erect cock, “can I do something for you now?”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ve been loving all this so far, and now I’m really ready to fuck you.”

You repeat his phrase about “another time,” and he smiles.  He kneels in front of you, asking “you okay, doing it like this?”  You tell him you’re on the pill, and it’s fine to proceed.  You’re not even sure how functional your ovaries still are, but you’ve stayed on the pill, and trust Adam otherwise.

He doesn’t waste any time penetrating you fully, and it feels so good to be filled up by his length.  As he starts moving in and out, you notice him glancing down to where the action is happening, and you think it’s hot that he’s looking.  He holds onto and adjusts your legs, and begins thrusting more aggressively, emitting some low grunts.  And you get noisy again as his cock hits against your deepest part.  Adam tells you how great you feel.  You close your eyes for a time, enjoying all the sensations.

Adam then slows the rhythm down and lies more directly on top of you.  It’s nice to feel his weight.  He looks into your eyes and it seems like it’s just the two of you on this planet.  “I really like you,” he says, emphasizing the “really.”  Your eyes tear up- you don’t want to appear too emotional- but can’t help it.  One tear escapes, and Adam wipes it with his thumb, “It’s okay now.”

“It’s just, me too, I mean, I really like you, too,” you say back to him, feeling tongue-tied.  The mood had recently been more playful and sexy, but you don’t mind this sentimental turn.  You feel good and safe with Adam.  And here you are, with him inside of you, hearing that he really likes you.  You can’t deny that you’ve had interest in him over the years.  Even when you were with other guys, you still occasionally thought about Adam, but never considered it a possibility that your friendship could go to another level.  Maybe it could now.  You don’t know if you just have this one night together, but you’re going to savor the moment while it lasts.

You kiss, and Adam’s tongue probes your mouth, just as his cock fills you deeply.  He nibbles on your lip, and your cunt clenches around him.  You grind into each other, with your breath hot against each other’s ears.  You put your hand on his ass, like you want to press him even further into you. You wish to meld into one.

Adam rises back up into a kneeling position.  He starts rubbing your clit in time with his movements.  It’s almost too much to bear, and you sputter, “oh fuuuck…Adam.”  You can see he’s happy that he’s turned you into a noisy, squirming mess.  The pleasure grows into a final explosive burst, and Adam clasps one of your hands, as if to steady you.

You brace yourself to continue fucking; it feels like he’s already excavated a small cave inside of you.  You’re not surprised at his stamina after witnessing his energy on stage.  While you’re kind of tired, you go on moving your body in rhythm with his.  His thrusting picks up in intensity, and then you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he lets out a raspy moan.  He lowers his face to yours, and you kiss.  He pushes into you a couple more times, and you delight in the warmth between your legs.

After he rolls off of you, you turn onto your side and move a hand to his small patch of chest hair, as he holds his arm around you.  You breathe in his scent, feeling very satisfied.  “I guess it’s a little late for me to go back now,” you say.  Adam squeezes you and replies, “oh, you’re not going anywhere.”  You think of how you haven’t brought anything for staying the night, but aren’t too concerned.

You ask, “So was this Gala a special enough event?”  Adam smiles and answers, “For sure, it surpassed my expectations.”  You lift your head to give him some soft, lingering kisses before cuddling against him again.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Adam begins, “but I usually like showering off after a gig, it’s not to do with you.”

“Oh, that’s okay, I was just going to use the bathroom-”

“Go ahead, I’ll go in after you.”

You get up to go to the bathroom, and think how you could join Adam in the shower.  So after he takes his turn in the bathroom, you go in the shower together.  You don’t expect anything else to happen at this hour after everything you’ve done, but it’s nice to be naked with him under the warm water.  You stand in front of Adam as he lathers you up, slightly teasing you with his touch.  You return the favor, and then face each other and kiss, with your bodies pressed tightly together.

     After stepping out of the shower, you see two bathrobes hanging on the door hook.  You put one on, and give the other to Adam, who giggles, and says, “oh, like his and hers?”  He looks so adorable in the white bathrobe.  “You can use my toothbrush, you know,” Adam offers.  As intimate as you’ve been with him, you still feel a little funny taking his brush, so you say you’ll be fine, and just use your finger.

     When you get back into the bedroom, Adam gets out a pair of pajamas and hands you the top, “we can split them.”  You pull the shirt over your head as he slides into the pajama pants.  You admire his build again, and blush a little thinking of how you were rubbing yourself all over him.  You hope he doesn’t think you’re nuts, but he seemed to be into everything you were doing.  Also, he’s the one who rubbed a bow across you.

     While you’re drowsy, your mind is racing with thoughts about how much you like Adam, and wondering where things will go from here.  You don’t want to go back to seeing him every few years on tour.  You wonder if something will change now.  You’re only a few hours from New York, so could see each other more often.  You ponder whether he’s ready for a relationship after the break up.  You’d even look forward to spending time with Lila, but know that’s getting way ahead of yourself.  This is a start, and you’ll have to see what happens.

     You get back into bed with Adam, in the spooning position.  “Again, it was such a great night,” he tells you.

“You don’t think I’m crazy, I mean, that stuff I was doing?”  You can’t help but be somewhat blunt to try to put the worries out of your mind.

“Sexy? Yes. Crazy? No. Besides, if you’re crazy, I guess that makes two of us.”  You’re content with that answer.  Adam continues, “I don’t have to be anywhere till later in the afternoon tomorrow, so we can have some more fun the first part of the day.”  You tell him that sounds good, and say goodnight to each other.  You drift off to sleep, anticipating what the new day will bring.

#beastie boys #nswf fanfiction #the scoop

[maeve-writes]

Little Red Corvette

Pairing: TFATWS!Bucky x Reader

Rating: 18+; Minors DNI

Warnings: Fluff, some angst, public sex, slight praise and daddy kink.

Summary: Bucky finds happiness in fixing up classic cars. He has his sights set on one in particular. When he can’t find it, you make it your mission to do whatever it takes to get it.

a/n: This is written for @buckyblues 4k Follower Challenge. (Congrats again!) I chose Little Red Corvette by Prince. Normally I’m inspired by lyrics, but the idea of Bucky in a sexy red two seater with a pretty lil’ thing next to him made me weak. I wanted this to be straight up smut but feelings got in the way.

This is not beta’d. Forgive any mistakes!

-

When Bucky came to terms with his new life, found some peace in a world without Soldat looming over his shoulder, he found solace in his tinkering. He would often take apart whatever technology he could find to see how it worked only to put it together again. It was therapeutic, a constant reminder that things were never broken for long, someone would always be there to fix it.

You were the one to piece him back together. Sam helped, too, of course, tightening any loose screws you may have missed, but you did all of the heavy lifting. You found out what made Bucky work, what parts needed replacing and you fixed him. He would never be the original James Barnes, but no one ever stayed the same, and you didn’t want him to be. You liked the man you woke up next to every morning, who blinked at you with sleep hazed eyes and pressed lazy kisses across your face. You loved the man that ravaged you at night, on any surface, buried as deep as he could go so he could become a part of you, to feel you against his soul.

While you found his tinkering irksome at times, especially when he would steal the coffee maker or microwave when you were in a rush to get to work and just need to zap fry breakfast and fill up your thermos, it was mostly endearing to see his nose scrunched up in concentration as he disassembled things with childlike fascination. 

What broke you was when you flopped down on the couch with controller in hand and no console to receive its signal. 

Storming into the garage, you slammed open the door to find him hunched over his work bench. “James,” you hissed through clenched teeth. You could see his muscle tense underneath the grey henley he had on, his breathing stilled. Only two women ever used that tone with him, one was his mother, the other was you, and he wasn’t sure which he was more afraid of. When he didn’t answer, you leaned against the door frame and glared at the large frame of his back. “Care to tell me where my PS5 is?” 

His shoulder dropped slightly and he dared to look over it at you. Bucky had seen death, had seen war, had seen the near end of the universe itself and nothing made his blood run colder than the receiving end of your icy stare. “I’ll put it back together,” he offered. The grinding of your teeth made him flinch and he dropped his tools to cross the room and make things right.

It took two months to find a replacement for your beloved PlayStation. How could he have known how hard it was to find one in stock? Even when it came in and he hooked it back up for you, you still held out one more day before you finally caved and forgave him with a two day fuckfest that ended with a proposal that Bucky moved on from electronics to cars.

He took the suggestion and ran with it. The next day he and Sam went to the junkyard to find a good frame with potential and towed it back with that bright, genuine smile of his and an eagerness to get started. He spent days on the internet ordering parts, looking up facts on what modern modifications worked best, and watched video after video of reviews on classic sports cars.

You found him in the garage most nights when his dreams became too much and he didn’t want to wake you. Some nights you would bring him snacks with a kiss and leave him to his work. Other nights you would climb behind him on his bench, wrap your arms around his waist and sleep against his back. Either way, you allowed him to work because that’s what Bucky needed.

When he wasn’t off on a mission or wrapped up in you, he was researching cars or fixing them. After one was finished from the base up, he’d give it away or offer it to a charity auction, then start all over. He had his favorites, every “car guy” did, and he also had his white whale.

One night you felt him crawl up your body impressively hidden behind the spread of your book. You lifted a curious brow but before you could lower your novel, he shoved his tablet in your face as he took a seat on your thighs. “Every time I try to find one, someone snatches it away,” he told you, voice a little huffy as if he was seconds away from a tantrum. 

“It can’t be that hard,” you tutted, tucking your book away to help him with his search. It turned out that it was incredibly hard to find any sort of form of his new obsession. Every post that either of you found had been sold or had a sale pending. Even body frames were hard to come by, much to your luck. “I’m sorry, babe, but we’ll find one soon.”

Bucky resigned himself to finding a filler car. While he was still enthusiastic about fixing up something new, you could tell his heart was set on it - the 1965 Corvette Convertible, specifically, Rally Red in color. There wasn’t much that your man asked for in life, even though it owed him so much, so for him to yearn for one thing so much and not be able to obtain it, it upset you.

So, you were going to make it happen. 

You spent your days working as usual and your nights searching for his coveted car. Your browser was filled with tabs, each watching car auctions, only to be outbid on all of them. Frustrated, you flipped on your VPN, opened up your TOR browser and dipped into the dark web to dig deeper. It wasn’t your first time going through back channels to get what you wanted and it wouldn’t be your last. If it would make Bucky happy, it would be worth the risk.

Two weeks later you told Bucky you would be working later than usual. You had been playing up a huge project at work and the deadline was coming closer. He, of course, hated when you were out past dark without him, but he never vocalized his concerns because he knew the bite he would receive in return. You could take care of yourself, he knew that, but he would still worry because that was his job.

You took an Uber from work to meet the seller at the small airport on the edge of the city. The man was from Germany and specialized in vintage cars; if he didn’t have one you wanted, he’d find one for a hefty price, of course. But any amount was worth your man’s happiness, at least that’s what you tell yourself as you held the small bag of cash in your hand as you crossed the airfield.

Sitting outside what you assumed to be a private jet was the cherry red two seater, top already down and looking as beautiful as the picture you saw online. Yeah, it was going to be worth every penny. “Jonas,” you asked as you approached the man standing cross armed next to the car. He towered over you by at least a full foot and a half and was just as wide. His dark eyes watched you approach, a curious flint sparked in them.

“Yes. You are early,” he noted. He held out a beefy hand and you placed the money in it. “Not one for pleasantries, hmm?” His laughter echoed across the runway and you offered him an amused smile. “Your man is a lucky one.” His other hand was held out, this time with the keys to the car. “For you to meet a complete stranger in the middle of the night, it is dangerous, no?”

You narrowed your gaze and lifted a brow. It seemed your look was enough of an answer because Jonas gave you another laugh. “A woman of very little words, I like you. We will do business again, yes?” It was a statement rather than a question. “Enjoy.”

He swept an arm toward the driver seat and you slid inside. With a turn of the key, the car purred to life and a smile grew on your face. You revved the engine twice, nodded to the man a few feet away before you sped towards your house to give Bucky his gift. 

When you got home, he wasn’t there. You found a note left on the kitchen counter: Beers with Sam. -B

Normally you wouldn’t mind him going out because you were happy that he would be even willing to leave the house, but to only leave a note and not text you seemed worrisome.

You pushed any more negative thoughts out of your mind and headed to take a shower. By the time you got out and headed back to the kitchen to make yourself a quick sandwich, Bucky was home, sitting on the counter and watching you. “Hey, handsome, how’s Sam?” You leaned up to kiss him, but it wasn’t returned. “Something wrong?”

“You weren’t at work,” Bucky said evenly. “We stopped by to grab you dinner and you weren’t there.”

Your skin heated and you sighed. “Bucky, I can explain-“

He cut you off with a dismissive wave of his metal hand. “Don’t bother. If you’re seein’ someone else, you can just tell me.”

You recoiled like he slapped you across the face. “James,” you snapped, which caused him to tense up, “I would never, ever even dream of being with anyone but you.” You forced your way between his legs and cupped his face in your hands to make him look at you. “You are all that I want and no one will ever compare to you. Don’t ever say that again, okay? You’ll break my heart.”

He didn’t say anything, not for a few minutes, and neither did you. All he could do was stare into your eyes and see the truth in them. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay, I know why you did,” you assured him and pressed another kiss to his lips, this time you received one in response. “Now, can I tell you why I wasn’t at work?” He nodded once, a tiny glint of worry still lingering in his eyes. “Well, I’d rather show you.”

You stepped away from the counter and pulled him along with you. With his hand in yours, you led him to the garage and flipped on the light with a, “Ta-da!”

“Oh, darlin’,” he breathed as he let go of you and stumbled into the room towards the car, all of the fear, worry and angst melting away instantly. “How did you-“ You pinched your forefinger and thumb together and twisted them in front of your pursed lips. He rolled his eyes but smiled and gestured to the driver seat.

“All yours, handsome,” you winked and hit the button to open the garage door.

He shook his head and patted the seat next to him, “You’re comin’ with me.” When you protested saying you were in your night clothes, he waved it off. “We’re just goin’ for a drive, sweetheart, nothin’ to dress up for.” You joined him with a reluctant sigh and flopped into the passenger seat. 

When the key turned and the engine purred, Bucky let out a pornographic moan. You turned to him, brow perked. “Sweetheart,” he rasped, “you have no idea what this car does to me.” Your eyes flickered to the quickly growing bulge in his jeans before his deep chuckle caught your attention, “Or maybe you do.”

He reached over to pinch your chin between two metal fingers before crashing his lips against your own. His tongue fought its way inside of your mouth and licked sinfully against the roof of it. “Buckle up,” he whispered against the gasp you released as he sat back.

Lightheaded, you did as instructed and watched him adjust the mirrors and lights before he pulled out of the garage and sped down the driveway and through the neighborhood. His face was bright in the evening light, his smile outshone the moon. “You’re gorgeous,” you told him breathlessly, and you would have most likely not been heard over the wind whipping around you by any other person, but your super soldier caught every syllable and flushed at the compliment.

He took your hand into his and brought it to his lips, kissing each knuckle before it came to rest on his thigh. You could feel the happiness radiating off of him, seeping into your own pores and filling you up until your lips turned up into a matching smile. “What’re you thinkin’ about,” he asked you, flicking his attention from the road to you and back again.

“You,” you replied, “always you.”

The smile on his face grew and he squeezed your hand once more. He found a new happy place, one outside of your shared home, one not between your legs. It was there, in that car, racing free down the open road with his best girl in the seat next to him. “I’m thinkin’ about you, too,” he said as his hand guided yours towards his lap.

“Mr. Barnes,” you gasped playfully but allowed him to rest your hand against his tented jeans, “we can’t do this, it’s sinful.”

“Live a little, darlin’,” he played along, forcing you to squeeze him which caused him to groan.

You pinned your bottom lip between your teeth and rubbed at him over his clothes, feeling the heat of his arousal coming off him in burning waves. Your fingers worked open the button of his pants and with a little maneuvering, you were able to fish out his cock, hard and thick, violently red and dripping with need. His hiss as it hit the cool air caused you to jump back for a moment, but his needy whimper drew you back again. “I swear to god, Bucky, if you crash and kill me, I’m going to haunt you,” you warned him.

He blinked, taken aback by the rather brash statement, about to ask what you meant by that but you were already unbuckled, bent forward and taking him into your mouth. “Oh fuck,” he groaned, metal hand gripping the steering wheel tight enough to pop the stitching on the leather coating. 

Your tongue swirled around his tip, gathering what leaked out before you flattened your tongue and took more of him in. He was thick and long, hard to take all at once, but you had learned from many hours of practice just how to get all of his glorious cock down your throat. Your hands worked what wasn’t wet with your tongue yet as you bobbed up to suck on his head and relax your jaw. “Feels like heaven, sweetheart,” he cooed above you, his free hand bundling up your hair to keep it out of the way. “Fuck, your mouth works my cock so good.”

Delighted at his praise, you hummed in return that sent sparks to his core. You took more of him in, nearly all of him, with your cheeks hallowed and your tongue dancing along his skin. More praise fell from his lips, encouraging words and filthy promises, you almost forgot you’re in the car until the tires started to hit the bumps along the white line - an indication that Bucky was veering off of the road.

You pulled off of him much to his disappointment and saw that he parked along the side of the road. “What’re you doing,” you asked, wiping your spit away with the back of your hand. 

“You told me not to crash,” he shrugged and undid his seatbelt. “Now get over here and ride Daddy’s cock.”

The words hit you dead center and you nearly collapsed from how weak and needy they made you. “We seriously can’t do this, Buck, anyone can come by and see.”

“That’s livin’, darlin,” he replied. His flesh hand wrapped around his cock and started to pull on it, staring at you with half lidded eyes and a groan rumbled in his throat. “Are you gonna just sit there and stare or are you gonna enjoy the ride?”

Absently, you licked your lips and watched his hand work himself and honestly felt a little jealous of it. That was your cock, it was your responsibility to make it feel good. Thoughts of getting caught and thrown in jail over public indecency were thrown out of the window and you crawled over to him, losing your sleep shorts on your way over.

“No panties? That’s my good girl,” Bucky grinned, his hand moved from himself to your hips as you climbed into his lap. “Been thinkin’ about this pretty pussy all day.” He hungrily licked his lips and reached between your bodies to run his fingers through your folds, drawing a gasp from you. “Absolutely soakin’, hm? Been thinkin’ about me, too?”

You nodded, your pussy clenching around nothing as Bucky’s fingers teasingly danced around your hole. “Daddy,” you whined, desperate for any sort of attention, “please?”

“What do you need, sweetheart,” he purred, his thumb ghosting over your clit as your slick began to run down your thighs. 

“You, Daddy,” you answered, hoping that was enough. “All of you. Only you.”

Bucky seemed to be happy with that and slid two thick fingers inside of you. “Such a greedy little pussy,” he hummed, slowly pulling them out again as you whined above him. “You need to be filled, don’t you, baby? My fingers won’t be enough.”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip once more, threatening to draw blood, when you shook your head in response. “Need your cock,” you told him. “Please.”

“Always askin’ so nicely, sweetness, how could I deny you?” He twisted his fingers inside you one last time before he held himself steady so you could line up. “Sink down on Daddy’s cock like a good girl.”

You steadied yourself with one hand on the headrest of his seat and the other was used to guide his tip towards your core. Once he slipped inside, your hand shot up to grip at his shirt as you lowered yourself with satisfied moan which was nearly drowned out by Bucky’s. “Too big,” you sighed, seated and feeling stretched and full.

“But you’re takin’ it, darlin’,” he smiled up at you, his skin flushed and covered in a thin layer of sweat. “You’re doing so good.” You preened at his compliment and returned his smile. “You move when you’re ready.”

You took the time to adjust to angle and his size, leaning down to exchange a lazy kiss. When you parted for air, you shifted your weight to wrap your arms around his neck and raised your hips to slide up his cock only to slam back down with a moan.

“Is that how you’re gonna to play it, sweetheart,” he asked breathlessly. When you replied with the same harsh roll of your hips, Bucky growled and his hands found your hips. You could feel the bite of his grip against your bone, you knew the bruises it would bring in the morning, but it would be worth it. “Can’t have a nice, slow fuck in the car, can we? My girl needs it hard and rough.”

He shifted his legs to plant his feet firmly on the floor of the car and started to meet your hips with a harsh snap of his own. Delighted at the feral snarl that curled his lips, you increased your speed, bouncing on his thick thighs as he fucked up into you, a growl erupting from him with each meeting of your hips. “Yes,” you gasped, “that’s it, Daddy. Just like that.”

“Yeah, I know how my dirty little girl likes it,” he grunted over the sound of your skin slapping and your slick sex sucking him in. “I can hear how much she likes it.”

Your head fell forward as he pounded up into you, the lewd squeak of the seat joined the chorus of your moans. “So close,” you told him.

But he already knew by the way you fluttered around him, coaxing him toward his own end. His metal hand left your hip and moved between you to seek out your swollen bud. “Gonna cum for me, good girl,” he asked. You tried to answer, tried to nod, but the way his hips shoved up into you and the cool metal against your heated sex that rubbed desperately at your clit was far too much.

A delicious snap came from within you and spread a white hot fire throughout your body. You came with his name on your lips, a desperate, holy cry. And he wasn’t far behind, a few hard thrusts and he spilled into you, whispering praise and adoration.

You stayed joined until the mess between your legs became itchy and the bugs started to swarm from the sweat on your bodies. “Best mill and half I’ve ever spent,” you sighed happily, lifting off of his lap.

“Wait, how much?!”

#bucky barnes x read #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #buckyblues 4k challenge

[thorsthot]

pulse . peter maximoff

pairing: xmen!peter maximoff x reader; established relationship

genre + warnings: smut! stealing/mentions of theft. use of a sex toy. squirting. protected sex.

words: 2.2k

summary: After a day of fucking around in a particular video store, you and Peter fuck around at home.

note: this was a commission for @otaku1012 !!! this was really fun to write and I've never written for Peter before so i hope i did his character justice 🥺 oh! and this takes place a little bit before Apocalypse, so about 1981. per usual, i accept any and all feedback you guys have!!

“You know, I heard they have a sex shop in the back,” Peter whispers in your ear as you look at the VHS tapes in the comedy section. “All kinds of adult films and sex toys.”

His breath catches against the back of your neck, making you shiver. A hand placed at your waist as he hugs you from behind. He spins you towards him a moment later. “Maybe we should go have a look.”

He moves his fingertips lightly along your side, tickling you. A big smile appeared on his face as you began to laugh nervously from the torture.

“Cut it out,” You laughed. “People are staring.”

“Let them stare,” He joked, still not letting you breathe.

His fingers ran up and down your sides repeatedly, then he abruptly stopped. It took you a minute to catch your breath, side-eyeing him as he swiftly went to look at the movies in the action section that was a few feet away.

“Babe! Should we finish our James Bond marathon?” He asks, lifting the VHS tape. “They have The Spy Who Loved Me.”

“Yeah, hopefully, this one isn’t fucking boring.” You roll your eyes as you approach him.

“There’s no one else I’d rather spend two hours and six minutes of boringness with,” He kisses your forehead. With an effortless motion, Peter places the tape in his bag and walks away. “Hurry up, slowpoke.”

He offers you his hand and brings you to the back of the shop towards a large brown door that says ‘XXX 18+ ONLY’ in bolded cherry red letters. He opens the door, and you’re both immediately stopped.

“Identification please,” A short white man with a receding hairline stopped you.

You both pull out your ID, and he waves you off. The area was a bit small but, it was divided into a few sections. Various clothing items and shoes in the front with porn tapes to the right. And a plethora of toys in the back.

Peter went immediately to the video section, but you moved towards the toys. It was almost as if they’d called your name, begging you to approach so they could grasp you. You didn’t know where to start. Your chest felt as though it was about to burst from your chest. You’d never see anything like this. You started at the lube and the games. Everything from sex dice to blindfolds and handcuffs. Then you moved onto browsing the dildos, so many different colors and lengths.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Peter teasing you about your fascination, but you shook him off. Your mouth slightly gaped open, and your eyes wandered, studying every toy you came across.

“Excuse me, what did you just put in your bag?” You heard from the distance, snapping out of your trance.

Your head turns way too quickly, and you see Peter being eyed by the short man who’d stopped you earlier. You wanted to fucking melt. There was no fucking way he’d just been caught. Before the man could open his mouth again, Peter ran towards you.

“Get on my back.” You sigh but make no complaint, hopping onto his back, and in no time you both are out of there and down the street.

He stopped, letting you down, and you paused to catch your breath. It’s not often that you’re attached to him when he fucking zooms away like that. It takes some time to get used to it.

“Holy shit Peter!” You yelled. “How the fuck did you get caught?”

“I didn’t know he was gonna be standing directly behind me,” He laughs at you. “Plus, you look so cute when you’re annoyed.”

“Whatever,” You rolled your eyes for what felt like the fifteenth time today. “You owe me lunch.”

“Race you?” And like that, he was gone.

“No fucking fair!”

It always amazed you that man who can move at over a hundred miles per second was so slow and patient with you. His touches are soft and delicate, never rough unless you wanted him to be. And this time, you needed that.

But of course, he was going to tease you. Building up lust inside of you, and making you wetter by the second at the smallest things he did, like breath. When his lips traced your collarbone, and his heavy breath tickled against his skin. It caused you to shiver at his touch.

Life was so fast today, and you needed that speed to continue. You needed that same energy and passion as before.

“How about we play with something?” Peter smiles.

There’s a sparkle in his eye as he gets off the bed and reaches for his backpack. Unzipping it, he pulled out a box that said: 'HITACHI two speed massager. Magic Wand.' in bold black and white lettering.

“That’s what you took from the sex shop?” You laughed at him.

“Yeah, I thought we’d try it out and see how it works,” He takes it out of the package. “First, we plug this into the wall.”

Peter plugs the cord into the outlet closest to the bed, and luckily the cord stretches rather far. He examines the wand, then turns it on. It was fairly loud as it vibrated in his hand. He presses the end against his arm and gasps.

“Wow.”

“Wow?”

He comes closer to you, pressing the vibrator against your forearm. It shakes hard against your skin. It’s powerful, and you could only imagine how it would feel on your clit.

“Wow.” You responded.

“Definitely trying this out tonight.” Peter looked at you, a small smile on his face.

“How about we try it right now?”

His smile grew wide, and his pupils seemed to dilate. Turning the vibrator off, he leaned into you. His lips touched yours, and it gave you chills. It was as if this was the first time you had ever kissed each other. The whole world could be falling apart at this very moment, and it wouldn’t even matter.

You leaned back on the bed, breaking the kiss for just a moment. Peter slipped in between your legs, lips attaching to your neck.

And you’re pulled back into that headspace. It’s like you’re floating in limbo or a pit of darkness, but it’s not depressing. You can feel every single touch and breath against your body, each more intense than the last. You can hear everything, but nothing at all. For a moment, it's only you and Peter.

His kisses stop, and you look up at him. You peered into his eyes to see the softness that was always there; and it would never leave, even though much of his innocence is lost. He pulls your shirt over and off of you to find you braless.

His mouth instantly goes to your left nipple, sucking, teasing, and biting lightly as his hands grab your tits. It’s like he’s in a candy store and you’re his favorite candy. The feeling of his tongue swirling against you and his teeth occasionally grazing your nipple shot straight to your clit. He could help but moan around you, and the vibrations warmed you. He does the same to the other nipple.

He planted a kiss on both of your breasts and then your neck. A short lick at your neck causes you to moan. Your hips bucking into his, only to be cockblocked by the friction of your jeans.

“I want you,” You moaned out to him. Your words and tone of voice practically shot straight to his dick.

Peter sat up, his hands working their way to your pants. He took his time as he did it, refusing to rush. As much as Peter wanted to see all of you, taste you, touch you, and feel you; he took his time. He chooses to savor this moment with you.

“Can’t wait to taste you,” He vocalized, taking your pants off of you.

You opened your legs wider for him to see, your panties blocking him from seeing what he wants. His fingers hooked inside your panties and slid them to the side. “So pretty.”

His free hand holds onto the back of your thigh, holding your leg to the side. You rest your other thigh on his shoulder.

He licks your clit, then dips into your wetness for an initial taste. He moans into you as he tastes you, drinking every bit of you as he could. He’s not too fast though, choosing to take his time instead. But he still eats you messily, as if you were the last thing he’d ever taste, savoring the moment.

You grind into his face, your hands moving into his hair; tugging at it as you catch your breath. His tongue swirled around your clit, occasionally sucking and kissing on you. Even dipping his tongue in and out of you, daring to go lower. His lips and the tip of his nose shiny and glistening in the light with your wetness.

Peter sat up and reached to the side of you, grabbing the vibrator. He turns it on, and your breath gets caught in your throat before he even touches you with it. He places the vibrator directly on your clit, not too harshly.

“Holy shit,” You couldn’t help but moan out. It felt like your heart dropped. You couldn't imagine explaining the feeling it gave you.

It was just one big ball of feelings expanding deep inside your core. Your moans increased in volume, and you couldn’t help it. You shook a bit and squirmed around, but Peter held you in your place.

“Be still,” He spoke sternly. It made your heart flutter a bit.

You felt like you were going to burst. That nerve of feels kept expanding until it was no more; you were seeing stars. The void surrounded you and held you; it was comfort and pure white noise. It was so much at once, but, you couldn’t do anything but take it all in.

Once you came back to Earth, you looked straight to Peter. Eyes wide with the vibrator in his hand; his mouth wide, curling into a smile. His face was wet, as was his shirt.

“Wow,” You said in unison.

You both took a minute. Your chest heaving, the heartbeat in your pussy pulsing rapidly.

“I wanna make you do that again.” Peter licks his lips.

He takes off his clothes before you could even blink, taking a condom from his side table and rolling it onto his dick. He positions himself between your legs, resting his dick against your heat. “I’ll go slow,”

He slowly slides into you, hands roughly gripping your sides. He looks into your eyes, and it’s like he’s stealing your soul, piece by piece. One deep stroke into you, and you’re unraveling around him. He feels so good inside of you, it’s like it was meant to be.

You place your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself even though you’re laying down. Deep inside of you as he rolls his hips, but he pauses, grabbing the vibrator and clicking it on. He presses the vibrator lightly to your clit, slowly moving it up and down.

Being filled up with a vibrator on your clit was a whole new feeling. Everything centered on your core. It was a fiery passion that kept sparking inside of you. Peter's thrusts became faster the closer he came to his orgasm. The vibrations added stimulation for both of you, especially for Peter. Making his cock throb with every second he’s inside of you.

“Fuck,” He breathed. He tried to keep his composure and not cum too quickly.

Peter looked down, watching himself disappear inside of you. Drooling at how your wetness coated the condom. Moving his hips at just the right angle, he hit right where you needed him to. Your moans syncing with his own as you squeezed around him. You became nearly numb to the vibrator, but the closer you came to cuming, the more unbearable it became.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” You cried. You tried to close your legs, but couldn’t because Peter was between them.

He began to rock his hip faster, burying his dick inside you. Leaning down, his lips locked with yours. He became absorbed in all your warmth. Moving sloppily as he spilled his cum into the rubber. You could only imagine what I’d feel like if he came directly into you, and you came at the thought of it.

Your legs shaking, your back arched off the bed with a hoarse moan spilling from your mouth. Wetness squirting out from you and Peter pulls out, slapping his cock over your cunt. The vibrator rested against your skin, and even just that was too much.

Peter slid back inside of you, thrusting inside of you just a little bit. You could only hold him as you continued to unravel around him. Eyes rolling to the back of your head. You could feel the wetness below you seeping into the bed; should’ve laid down a towel if only you both knew.

It took a few, but it felt like you’d been cuming for minutes on end. The room felt hotter than before, and you felt a little lightheaded. You were already sore, you just needed to lay there for a moment.

“Wanna watch The Spy Who Loved Me?” He asks after a long silence, turning off the vibrator.

“Sure.” You laughed, rubbing circles on his back. “Just let me catch my breath.

With this vibrator in your possession, it’d be a long night.

----

taglist: @yournonlocalpoc, @melanated-writersblock, @taylortheeshowpony, @chloewashere, @macfizzle , @audacious-little-fuck, @shaykeijser, @ghost-with-spaghetti-arms,  @thedunconnsmythe,  @pagethepunisher, @frappichino23,   @sea040561, @cannonindeez,  @thebookamongmen, @havpojke, @totallyreadyforthis, @heliosparadox, @ineffabl-y, @lilylovelyxo, @akamaiden, @ringpop-poppy, @coonflix, @godohammers, @marvelmaree, @acciorinn

#tiy types #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver imagine #peter maximoff imagine

[missjanjie]

Santa Ana Winded | Gottrosé

Title: Santa Ana Winded Summary: Rosé is visiting Los Angeles just as the infamous Santa Ana Winds are kicking into high gear. On paper, that's fine, but staying with Mik certainly isn't going to make handling the potential effects of the 'devil winds' any easier. Word Count: 1823 Relationship(s): Gottrosé (Rosé/Gottmik) Rating: E

and thank you to @nickysjaida for beta-ing! ♥

read on ao3 | ko-fi

“Where are you staying, again?” Jan asked as he helped Rosé finish packing.

Rosé smiled as he propped the suitcase against the wall. “I’m staying with Mik. You know, he lives in that fancy house with all those influencers, and he was so insistent with that cute, little LA vocal fry, it’s impossible to say no to.”

Jan arched his brow – he knew his friend and he knew that smile. “You better watch yourself, sis,” he warned. “Especially going this time of year, that’s when the Santa Ana winds start hitting hard.”

“Why is that relevant?”

“They call them the Devil Winds,” he explained. “It’s known to cause weird dreams, usually about your deepest desires and fears. It also triggered the shit out of my allergies, but that’s not the point. It might cause you to act a little impulsive, is all I’m saying.”

Rosé’s brows rose in curiosity. “The fuck were you dreaming about at summer camp, huh?”

Jan blushed and cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter because unlike during season twelve, I wouldn’t have had the chance to even consider acting on it, and I was having normal dreams on the plane home,” he said flatly. “You, however, are going in a lot more vulnerable to those devil winds,” he teased.

He scoffed. “Fuck off, I don’t even have allergies. And I think I’ll be able to control myself… you know, as long as I don’t drink,” he murmured. He was well aware that Jan and the whole internet knew what happened when he and Mik were left alone with alcohol.

“That’s a tall order for you, babe. Good luck.”

------

By the time Rosé landed in LAX, he had stopped thinking about Jan’s warnings about the wind. Jan was known to be dramatic, after all. He was sure his friend was just getting him riled up for no reason, or using it to justify whatever sex dreams he’d had about a certain other NYC queen, not that he was going to name names, but he could’ve.

It didn’t take long before he spotted Mik, but he’d only taken a few steps in his direction before the other queen came barrelling towards him at full speed, launching himself into Rosé’s open arms.

“Hi, baby,” Rosé greeted with a fond laugh, picking Mik up and spinning him around quickly, then carefully setting him back down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you so much, gorge,” Mik grinned as they made their way out of the airport. “This is gonna be so much fun. We should go live, the fans always go nuts for that,” he suggested. Once they stepped outside, he winced. “Fuck, it’s still windy as hell.”

Rosé nodded, “ah, the infamous Santa Ana Winds,” he observed as he loaded his luggage into the trunk of Mik’s car. “Jan gave me a whole warning about them. Do they actually fuck with your head and all of that?”

“I guess it, like, depends on your mental state or whatever. Last year we had to talk Gigi out of buying a plane ticket to Missouri, she was feeling it real heavy, like, she was either going to pull some teen romance stunt with Crystal or murder her boyfriend,” he explained with a casual flippancy as they made the drive back to his house. “Why, you worried the devil winds are gonna come for you?”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, gaze avoidant. “No, just wanna be prepared for whatever chaos I’m walking into, you know? Knowing you, I could be walking in on an orgy or a crime scene.”

“I don’t see the problem here, gorge,” Mik retorted flippantly as he pulled up in front of the house.

Rosé laughed softly as he got out and grabbed his things. “Of course you don’t,” he retorted with a dry laugh as he followed him inside.

------

As it turned out, Rosé’s resolve not to drink was weak. He wouldn’t claim that he gave in to the peer pressure of a group of young twenty-somethings, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t allow himself to give in so his mind and body would shut up.

But he had fun, Mik was a good time and the group of them knew how to party without being over the top. Nothing happened between him and Mik throughout the night beyond some too-close, sloppy, dancing, so he went to bed that night considering it a success.

It wasn’t long before Rosé fell asleep, the powerful gusts of wind serving to soothe him. The way the palm trees creaked and rattled from the relentless devil winds turned into little more than white noise. The dream that followed, however, played out what he had prevented in reality.

The dream wasn’t coherent and linear, but the content was clear – he was in bed with Mik, both of them naked. Their hands and mouths were all over each other, moans spilling from their lips. It felt real, too real.

When he jolted awake, Rosé swore he could still feel Mik’s fingers lingering on his skin. His face and chest were bright red and his breathing was heavy. He looked under the covers and groaned at the tent that was pitched in his boxers.

Before Rosé could address the situation at hand, he heard the bedroom door creak open and he quickly repositioned himself on his side to cover his erection. “Mik?” he squinted his eyes as he tried to see through the darkness, adjusting enough to make out the familiar frame.

“Oh, perf, you’re awake.” Mik’s voice normally had such a casual nonchalance about it, but when he spoke this time, there seemed to be a mix of both strain and relief. “Look, I know this is gonna sound fucking lame as shit, but I had a, um…” he shook his head, just getting the words out was impossible with the strength of his pride.

“A dream, perchance?” Rosé chuckled softly and ran a hand through his hair, “because that would make two of us.”

The tension left Mik’s body and a spark of confidence took its place. “So, you feel it too,” it was somewhere between a question and an observation, but he didn’t wait for Rosé to clarify. He crawled onto the bed and straddled his lap, his eyes instantly going wide. “It really was the same dream, huh?” he smirked.

Rosé couldn’t even be embarrassed when he met Mik’s eyes, the lust he saw in them erasing any emotion beyond unbridled desire. Logic and reason were gone with the wind and the next thing he knew, his hands were on Mik’s face and he was pulling him into a kiss. It was deep and heated, their tongues swirled together and their hands tangled in each other’s hair.

Very few words were spoken – if they talked, they might start overthinking and psyche themselves out. They were already in too deep, there was no turning back now. It was too fast, fervent, clothes were being tossed aside in every direction. The only time they came up for air was when Mik reached into the end table drawer to grab lube and a condom.

They switched positions, Rosé rolling on top of Mik. He took the bottle of lube and slicked up two fingers, working in one, then another. His eyes were trained on Mik’s face, watching for any expression that he should stop. Instead, he watched his face contort in pleasure and listened to the moans that spilled from his lips.

Mik took the condom that was still on the bed and tore it open with his teeth, then rolled it down Rosé’s length. “This is your last chance to back out,” he warned, though there was a clear, unspoken ‘please don’t’.

“I’m not,” Rosé assured. He had already gotten to this point and god, he was aching to see it through. He carefully eased into him, one hand guiding his length while the other steadied himself by holding onto Mik’s waist. He let out a grunt as he bottomed out, then slowly picked up a steady thrusting pace.

“Fuck…” Mik exhaled in a breathy moan. His hips bucked up, picking up the rhythm of Rosé’s thrusts and writhing in tandem. He didn’t realize just how deeply and intensely his lust for him ran until it culminated in that moment. His fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulder blades, blunt nails still leaving indentations.

Even during sex, little was said between them beyond whispers of praise or dirty talk. Their moans and whines were loud and passionate, culminating sharply when they rode out their orgasms in tandem.

Rosé had to catch his breath before he pulled out, rolling the condom off his length and throwing it away. He laid back down and stared up at the ceiling, heavy breathing and wind blowing the only noises remaining.

Mik shifted over to Rosé, wrapping his arms around him and resting his head on his chest. “I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured. “Just… don’t say it.”

And Mik was right, so he didn’t.

------

“You’re looking pretty guilty,” Jan observed as he sat with Rosé during the uber ride back from the airport. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with a certain LA-based season thirteen drag queen?”

“Nope, I didn’t even see Symone.”

Jan crossed his arms and arched his brow. “Come on, Rosie…”

Rosé groaned, getting out of the car and grabbing his luggage from the trunk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted before they walked up and took the elevator into his apartment. It wasn’t until they were alone in his bedroom that he sighed and confessed, “I had sex with Mik.”

Even though Jan suspected as much, hearing his friend make that confession still caught him by surprise. “Oh shit,” he gasped softly. “What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t fucking know!” he ran his hand through his hair as he paced back and forth across his bedroom. “How am I supposed to explain that I ignored the very clear instruction of ‘do not hook up with Mik’? I know being stupid is part of my brand, but this is crossing a line that I don’t know if I can bounce back from if I even deserve it.”

Jan stopped Rosé by grabbing onto his shoulders. “Listen to me, whatever happens, however it turns out, I’m gonna be here for you,” he promised. “I’ve gotta head out now, but I will drop everything in an instant if you need me, okay?” and after they exchanged goodbyes, he was on his way.

Rosé rubbed his face and stared at himself in the mirror. He shook his head, then his heart dropped to his stomach when he heard the front door rattling, then opening. “I’ll be right there, baby!” he called out, then refocused his gaze at his reflection. “You ruined everything, you stupid bitch.”

#gottrose #rpdr rpf

[dalish-spectre]

Trust the abyss - a Baldur's Gate 3 backstory. Ch. 4 Haunting riffs of a vazhan-do pierced the air accompanied by the sharp vocals of a deathsinger – drow bards whose vocals could command the undead if they so chose.

Tonight, however, this vocalist was entertaining rowdy crowds of guards from the various noble houses of Menzoberranzan at a tavern located on the fringes of the bazaar.

It was called the Jewel Box and Dinin had never been anywhere like it before.

He had never been this drunk before either.

Kelzt and Masryn had insisted on dragging him out of House Darketh’s perimeters and into the noisy crowded streets of the heart of the spider city.

Before House Do’Urden fell, the former elder-boy had only visited the bazaar on rare occasions when his Matron Mother had required him to. He had never been permitted to drink. Even after joining Bregan D’aerthe, he had only ever indulged in a few drinks with the band’s leader Jarlaxle. He preferred to keep his mind sharp and sober but going undercover as a guard within Darketh, his first mission as a houseless rogue, he was expected to play the part.

It would be suspicious if he refused to drink with the two guards that had decided to befriend him.

He didn’t know how much algae ale they’d be able to polish back.

So here he was, five ales deep, being dragged into a brothel by two drow he hardly knew.

“Don’t scowl so much, Dinyrr, you’ll scare the whores away,” laughed Kelzt as they’d stepped through the door. “I’d say a brush with death is a perfect reason to wet one’s blade somewhere other than the belly of a hook horror.”

Masryn chortled from beside him. “Maybe that’s what he wants – have you ever been to a whorehouse before? I’ve heard Gracklestugh has several.”

“I’ve no need of whorehouses,” Dinin replied coolly as they took a seat at a stalagmite table, the alcohol softened the usual edge of his voice.

Kelzt’s own laugh reverberated through the cavern as he motioned a serving slave over.

“We’ll take a bottle of sul-paga here,” he said to an older dwarven woman who had been around long enough to not bother flashing her eyes in an alluring manner. She simply nodded and wandered back towards the bar.

The Jewel Box was filled with tables made of stalagmites, twisting upwards with slate tops. Stone benches on either side accommodated guests who wanted to sit.

It was lit by faerie fire, candles and glowing blue fungi wound its way around various stalactites that protruded down from the ceiling giving the place a very ethereal feel.

Kelzt rubbed his hands together as he looked around the room.

“We got here just in time,” he said. “Narbondel has only just died and that means the artists will be coming down soon.”

Dinin cocked an eyebrow.

“Artists?” He tried not to roll his eyes. “Why are they called artists?”

Masryn snorted.

“Why do you think? They are trained in the arts of sexual pleasure,” the young drow emphasized the first part of the word for effect, waggling his white brows up and down.

Dinin ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair anxiously. He needed another drink.

His hopes were soon answered as the dwarven woman returned with three glasses and a large bottle of sul-paga.

The crisp, distilled scent of the alcohol pricked the hairs up on the back of his neck as he watched Kelzt pour the clear liquid into his cup.

Masryn drank his own glass deeply, scrunching his face up. Dinin had only drank wine when he lived in House Do’Urden and he tried desperately not to make a face as the sul-paga burned his throat on the way down.

Sputtering, he wiped a gloved hand across his lips.

Kelzt watched the two younger drow, mirth shining in his dark red eyes as he casually sipped his own drink.

“Ah, youth rushes into everything – sul paga is to sip lads, it is made of the finest sul roots this side of the Underdark.”

The music took a frantic toll as the singer began the first verses of the beginning of Tornan’s Guts – a common song in Menzoberrazan though Dinin was not familiar with the words.

Chants and hymns to Lloth were all he knew of music. He found his foot tapping to the rhythm of the vahzan-do while a table next to them burst out singing loudly and offkey.

O’ Tornan was a great warrior indeed

The greatest warrior did Menzoberranzan ever see

A bell rang out above the singing, Dinin followed Masryn and Kelzt’s gaze at it shifted towards a staircase at the back of the room.

He took another swig of sul-paga as he watched silk-clad figures make their way down the stairs and mingle with the tables.

Much to Dinin’s dismay, his scowl did not in fact keep the whores away.

A surface elf slave with long red hair twined her way over to their table and sat down beside Masryn.

The last time he had been this close to a surface elf, he had inadvertently witnessed his family’s doom as his brother failed to please Lloth by killing one.

She spoke Undercommon quite well, he supposed, but he could not bring himself to find her attractive.

Masryn however had fallen under the enchantment of her tinkling laughter. She clutched a glass of dark liquor in one hand and used the other to brush away a strand of hair from the younger drow’s face.

“I personally don’t understand the appeal,” said Kelzt, watching the surface elf lead Masryn from the table. “Our young friend however appears to have a liking for pale flesh albeit a sadistic pleasure – here, anything goes as long as you don’t mark their faces.

It’s a pleasure house yes but it’s also a place where men are freely allowed to take out any emotion on a female.”

Dinin scoffed, “Surface females don’t matter.”

“Aye but it’s not just surface females here – there are drow ones as well, low-cast but drow,” Kelzt replied. “Master Dro pays a pretty penny to the council to keep the place in operation.”

The older drow explained how he thought the Matron Mother’s figured if there was a place the common guards could blow off steam it would make them more pliable.

“I’ve heard from our weapons master himself that Matron of Darketh pays the tab here for us idiots to keep us in line,” he continued. “If keeping me in line means all the paga and ale I can drink and a warm place to lay my cock then I’m all for it.”

“I could think of worse things I suppose,” Dinin swirled the clear liquid in his glass pensively. He watched a human female take off her top across the room with mild interest. Peals of laughter rang out from behind their table as a slender male drow clothed in a silk robe poured wine down a guard’s throat.

“It appears they cater to all tastes here,” He shifted in his seat to face Kelzt again. The alcohol was making his face warm or was it the atmosphere which was becoming slowly more debaucherous.

Kelzt nodded his head and took another drink.

He stole a priestess’s virginity

The scandalous line of Tornan’s Guts rang out above the din. Some of the crowd cheered and Dinin glanced over his shoulder, fearing the sting of a snake-headed whip.

Feeling none, the tension in his shoulders released. Old habits died hard.

For this Lloth could not forget

Tornan would have to pay his debt

She put a toll upon his soul

Kelzt had begun to sing along, periodically punching the air with the hand holding his glass, grinning.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Dinin’s lip as he watched the merrymaking a scene quite unfamiliar to him.

“Don’t you find it kind of funny that we’re singing a song about a man who was killed for defiling a woman at a place where men come to defile women?” Dinin asked, raising his voice over the chaos.

Kelzt laughed.

“The irony is not lost on me, young one.”

Suddenly a young male slid in between the two of them.

“Why Kelzt, I thought you had forgotten me,” the newcomer’s voice was smooth. His head was shaved on either side leaving a disheveled white strip of hair – black orbs for eyes that glittered in the candlelight of the table.

Dinin begrudgingly shifted to make room for Kelzt’s friend. The boy had a pleasing enough face and a cocky air about him.

“Ah, Naxir, how could I forget about you, you bring an old warrior so much joy,” Kelzt slid his arm around the younger drow.

“Such sweet words,” Naxir laughed and turned to fix Dinin in his stare. “Hello, who is this treat? Will he be joining us this evening?”

Kelzt laughed and shook his head while Dinin felt his cheeks burn. It had been sometime since he had indulged in the carnal pleasures of flesh and while Naxir was attractive, the thought of seeing the older soldier rutting didn’t interest him at all.

“I think I’ll pass this time,” he poured himself another drink and let his gaze wander as he halfheartedly listened to the old warrior flirt with the handsome young drow.

Tornan’s Guts had ended, and the bard seemed to be taking the crowd in the direction of a sensual macabre tune.

A familiar laugh rang out and Dinin noticed Taztar, the patrol leader of his squad, sitting two tables to the side of them with some other guards from House Darketh.

A slender figure in a short, flowing red dress was gyrating before them, unbound hair illuminated by faerie fire.

“Come closer, girl,” he heard Taztar growl and watched as the girl obeyed. Her skin was not as dark as Dinin’s and as she moved closer to the candlelit table, he could tell her hair was a dark silvery colour.

Suddenly one of the guards’ arms shot out and poured a mug of ale over her head. “Get out of here half-breed, you can tell Dro that I want the real drow tonight.”

Laughter exploded from the table as Taztar said, “We all want a real drow tonight lads.”

Dinin watched intently as the girl’s hand clenched at her side, the shocked look on her face quickly replaced by anger and she swung her fist, a soft thud as it connected with the guard’s face. Just as quickly as it happened, Taztar reached out and grabbed the girls arm and pulled her in roughly.

He couldn’t make out what the patrol leader said before shoving the girl backwards.

Impressed, he watched as she strode toward his table, delicate brows furrowed as she fought to keep a smile on her face.

As she passed, he found himself drawn to her – her delicate features belaying the scowl she was trying not to show.

He watched her enter a door near the back and come back out again with a white-haired female drow. They parted and for a moment he watched the new girl saunter over to Taztar’s table.

It was then he realized that Kelzt and his friend had left him alone. At least they had left him the bottle, but he cursed as he went to pour himself a drink.

What in the hells was he going to do now, wait for them to finish rutting?

Sipping his drink, he glanced about for the girl with the dark hair again when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He was mortified to see it was her.

“You’re staring at me.” Her voice was terse. “Do you see something that you like?”

Her arms were crossed causing the curves of her breast to peek up from the low cut of her dress.

“Yes – I mean, no, I’m not here to …” His words caught on his tongue as she glared at him.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s what they all say at first.”

“Well, I can guarantee you that I’m not like they,” he said. “And I’m not here looking for sex.”

“Let me guess, you probably have no problem picking up women – or men, whichever you prefer,” the girl sat down beside him and propped her cheek up with her hand.

Her eyes swept him up and down, assessing him. He leaned back in his seat fixing her with his own cool stare.

“Whichever I prefer depends on many things – why did you punch that guard, surely you’re lucky to not be injured,” he asked, truly curious.

To his surprise, she laughed, a strange melodic chuckle that made him want to laugh with her though he knew not why – probably the blasted sul-paga Kelzt had fed him.

Still he poured himself and the girl a glass.

“Hrazzra is an idiot, he comes here every tenday, my master hates him, but he likes Taztar’s money,” the girl paused, accepting the glass of liquor. “Besides, Taztar will make me pay for it later but it’s nothing I haven’t felt before.

“The trick is to make yourself numb and you don’t feel anything anymore.”

She emptied the glass with one smooth gulp without making a face. Dinin followed suit but was unable to keep the look of disgust off his face over the taste of the alcohol.

The girl laughed again.

“I prefer the taste of mushroom wine if I’m being perfectly honest,” he chuckled. “This stuff tastes like how the cleaners smell.”

“Mushroom wine – you have rich tastes for a common soldier.”

The alcohol had loosened his guard and he cursed himself inwardly.

“I have only been so fortunate that my former master would allow me wine after a victory in the slave pits of Graklestugh,” he attempted damage control, and briefly explained his backstory to the girl who watched his eyes intently as he told of how he was fortunate to be sold to House Darketh of Menzoberranzan.

“Well, former melee master of Gracklestugh, I bet I can find us some mushroom wine, stay where you are.”

The music remained at a mournful pace as she picked her way through the crowd towards the bar where the older dwarven lady polished the too-smooth slate.

It had been hours since Narbondel died and the number of patrons in the bar seemed to be getting less and less.

Dinin looked over to see that another surface elf had joined the white-haired drow girl at the patrol leader’s table. Only Taztar and two other soldiers remained and were tossing coins at the girls as they writhed on one another atop the stalagmite table.

“Noril and Alunira are very beautiful aren’t they,” Dinin almost jumped as the girl whispered in his ear, sitting back down beside him.

He turned to look at her and noticed she was grinning holding two large bottles of mushroom wine.

“I don’t have any fancy glasses, ussta zhennu sargitlan, but this is not a fancy place, we could drink it right from the bottle if we wished.” To emphasize her point, she uncorked a bottle and drank deeply, a little drip of liquid glowed green as it spilled from the corner of her lips.

He tried to hide the grin as she playfully called him my great warrior in high drow. For a slave, she was brazen and he found he liked talking to her.

“High drow, that’s an awfully rich language for a common slave,” he said, taking a swig of the wine, feeling almost sacrilegious drinking it straight from the bottle.

Her laugh was infectious as she snagged the bottle back from him, raising her eyebrows and cocking her head to the side.

She brought the tip of the bottle playfully to her lips before drinking then leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“Maybe we both have … secrets,” her lips grazed his earlobe as she pulled away and offered him the wine coyly.

Flustered but intrigued, he changed the topic to mushroom wine and how it wasn’t as noble a drink as one might think as it was fermented from the most common fungi but as he was trying to cover up that the wine was made from mushrooms that had never seen any form of light, it was a highly arduous process, and she was nodding as if she believed him even though her eyes told him she didn’t, Taztar stumbled over to their table.

His breath reeked of ale.

“Ah, Dinyrr, I never expected to see you here – I didn’t know the house paid for slave soldiers to drink and fuck,” he slurred as he stood over them. “I see you’ve met my girl – Tavari – she may be a half-bred but she’s quite beautiful to look at.”

He gruffly grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look up at him. Her gaze steeled over.

“Yes patrol leader, she’s quite nice,” Dinin forced himself to play his part, as this common man’s lesser when he could easily slice out Taztar’s tongue and present it to Jarlaxle.

“Indeed she is and I think she’s quite done talking with you – it’s time for her to repay her folly in punching Hrazzra, don’t you think?

"We’ll take that extra bottle of mushroom wine as well, Tavari will need the extra help tonight.”

He made a show of knocking over the almost empty bottle they had been sharing. Dinin ground his teeth.

“Come girl,” he wrenched her up from her seat. Her face paled in the candlelight, she looked disheartened.

Suddenly, Dinin rose from his seat and grabbed Taztar by the shoulder.

“The girl stays with me,” he said, the alcohol he consumed wouldn’t allow the slight of this mere man – this third patrol leader of the 35th house of Menzoberranzan taking away his enjoyment.

The bard, whose interest had been piqued by the exchange began to play a new tune he had been commissioned to write. A song that would surely get the males blood up as it told the tale of the destruction of a noble house.

The fall of House Do’Urden.

Taztar laughed and shrugged off Dinin’s hand.

“I’ll have you killed,” he sneered, not letting go of the girl’s wrist.

As the singer began to sing of Lloth forsaking a once ancient and noble house, Dinin noticed the words of the song, speaking of Zin-Carla, Malice’s folly and a wayward son.

“The girl is with me tonight,” he growled., stepping in front of of the solider.

“Are you stupid? Did you hear what I said – I’ll have you killed and if not, the weapons master will have you sacrificed to Lloth for breaking the chain of command,” Taztar replied, dropping the girl’s hand and clenching his own into a fist.

Their faces were inches from each other, Dinin breathed heavily, egged on by the song.

“You’re nothing – you worthless,” Taztar’s slew of insults were cut short by the crack of Dinin’s fist against his jaw.

The thicker drow swung back catching Dinin in the lip, splitting it open. He tried to grab Dinin but the former master of melee magthere’s reflexes were quick as he swept to the side. He wasn’t a fist fighter as some were but his swift blows fueled by alcohol and rage were enough to fell the shorter drow to the ground.

The bard remained impassive and kept singing. Those left sitting around the tables cheered and promptly resumed drinking.  Dinin’s heart was pounding. How dare there be a song about the fall of Do’Urden. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment. He had potentially blown his cover for his mission. What would Jarlaxle do to him? He opened his eyes to see the girl, whose name was Tavari, stand up from kneeling over the prone form of Taztar. Her fingertips looked for a second as if they had glowed.

“Come with me,” she said, picking up the bottle of wine from the ground.

She grabbed his hand, he jolted back to reality at the physical touch.

“Taztar won’t remember anything,” she assured him as she led him up the stairs. “But, let’s get out of here before Master Dro sees him on the floor.”

“You really knocked him out,” the girl giggled as she led him past rooms filled with moans. He followed her down a dark windowless hallway, lit sporadically by candles.

She opened the door to the last room on the left, lit a candle – did she use a match? Dinin wasn’t sure. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and the alcohol was beginning to make him feel a little nauseous.

“Thank you for what you did back there, by the way, Taztar is awful, I hate him,” she crossed her legs as she sat down on the bed.

“I can assure you from working with him that I hate him as well. He allowed half of our latest patrol to be slaughtered by hook horrors,” Dinin replied, sitting beside the girl on the thin mattress. “We haven’t properly introduced ourselves, my name is Din-in-yrrr.” He almost stumbled out his real name. “Dinyrr, it’s Dinyrr. My apologies, I don’t usually drink this much.” He was embarrassed to note that he was almost slurring his own words.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Din-nin-yrr, my name is Tavari and I am always drunk,” the girl chuckled but the laugh didn’t reach her eyes.

“Just Dinyrr is fine, and you shouldn’t drink so much, it’s not good for the mind. A mind like yours is only diminished by liquor,” he sloppily scolded her.

“That’s very sweet,” she replied. “Now, you have me up here – you said I’m yours tonight, what would you wish of me?”

She began to slide off the thin red fabric that barely covered her lithe form, but Dinin stopped her muttering shhh.

“You don’t need to do that,” he said. “Let’s just finish this troublesome bottle of wine.”

He helped pull the dress back over her head. The girl, Tavari looked shocked then laughed, deep from her soul, her eyes gleaming in the candlelight. He couldn’t help but join her – he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so much.

“What do you want to just talk?” She asked playfully. “I’ve never had a man nor woman ever buy me just to talk. It’s not normal.”

“I’m not normal,” he replied slurrishly, with a grin passing her back the bottle of wine.

She nodded her agreement.

“What do you want to talk about?”  She shifted closer to him, propping her cheek on her hand as she had earlier that night.

“Memories,” he replied, looking out the window, the streets of the bazaar were quiet this deep into Narbondel’s death.

“Good or bad,” she asked.

“Are there such things as good memories?” He countered, turning to look back at her again with a wry smile.

“Not really,” she shrugged.

They continued to pass the bottle back and forth, each sharing their own cryptic stories, edging towards truths they could never share with one another.

The last thing Dinin’s half-blurred vision noted as the two laid facing each other on the threadbare mattress was the colour of her eyes as Narbondel’s first light filtered through the small window.

Orange, like the flame of a candle. https://archiveofourown.org/works/33301066/chapters/84017953

#forgotten realms #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #menzoberranzan #mc: tavari #drow ocs #half drow #am writing #writer #fanfiction #tw: violence #dinin do’urden #drow #long post #trust the abyss #these two ... #be living rent free in my head

[leatherbookmarking]

fuck that ! im gonna talk about them deadboyz!! shame is for the WEAK

overall:

belong to a much less known subsidiary company of jinhit no jgs isn’t worth the joke entertainment. if they were in any other company they would be super rookies but jgs is keeping them in the basement and it’s not even his own basement

initially i think there were some high stakes in it for jgy...? something like ‘you produce the songs and make their chores and if you flop you’ll never be on stage again’ but?? i don’t know now tbh

would have been really popular (they are Good) but less known company, etc, and also some rumors around the time of their debut made it so they’re only knows because ‘they’re kinda good at dancing aren’t they’

general concept is uh... cool dudes, kinda fucky but not too much...? gotta think about the baby (a-yu)

THE MEMBERS: meng yao (leader, main dancer, vocalist), wen chao (oldest, main rapper), su she (main vocal, dancer), xue yang (rapper, dancer, unofficially: moodmaker, if by ‘mood’ you understand ‘horror at whatever has just come out of his hellish mouth), wen ning (dancer, vocalist, sometimes rapper), mo xuanyu (vocalist, the Baby™)

MENG YAO:

leader, single-handedly responsible for making these rowdy boys (wc&xy) stop wanting to kill each other

has probably auditioned for every single company there is. was in the nie company for a bit, but it was still a mess freshly after the previous owner, nmj’s father, has died, nmj has struggled (being a producer, not a businessman) so when it turned out they’d have to let some trainees go, the other trainees made it so meng yao was the one to leave. then he temporarily was at wrh’s company where he got kind-of-semi-famous as one of wen qing’s main back dancers (the one she’s interacted with the most) during her last performance. then the company went kaputt and jgs has snatched him off for himself, and then... put him... in the basement.... for two years... after which he gave him a chance, and voila

insanely hard-working. an all-rounder. mainly he excels at dancing, but his vocal and rap skills also Fuck. persona? impeccable. he’s learning to write and compose his own songs and he’s doing well, but he can’t even upload his stuff on soundcloud, because... you know why. has doubled as a manager in their early days. also, dimples.

the fans had tried to make a dad/mom dynamic with him and uh... wen chao...? since they were the oldest and pretty much the opposites, but quickly gave up and he’s now simply known as yao-ge due to his stern but loving persona. (yao-jie, sometimes)

DOES do the split. it was his rookie trick for a year after they debuted, but he simply is just like that. one show host asked him “is there definite proof that you have bones?“ and meng yao only shrugged humbly

WEN CHAO

oldest, has been a trainee for the longest time, hasn’t debuted because... well... he wasn’t good... and that was because he’s felt too safe in his dad’s company. WELL ABOUT THAT,

his older brother wen xu has debuted Long before him, but after a few years his group disbanded, he moved on to modeling and then stopped after a couple of years, too. (he got married.)

you know how i said their image is ‘cool, a bit fucky’? well, he’s 40% of that fuckiness. he’s been told again and again that idols aren’t supposed to date/have dating experience, but he still can’t get the hang of it

yes, he and jiaojiao were an item back in the wen days. she’s a trainee at some other company now but they still hook up sometimes

initially was intent on maintaining a cool, calm and collected image... then he met xue yang and threw that idea outta the window. paradoxically, they’re interesting together, not only as rappers but also as... high-energy, chaotic energy makers of the group...

this is a happy au, so: initially he’s thought everything is bullshit, these talentless fucks are dumb and he should already be a top idol. by the time of their debut, he agrees that meng yao is one crafty motherfucker. a year after their debut, if anything happened to any of his boys, yes even xue yang, he would kill everyone in the room, etc, etc BUT YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO KNOW ABOUT THAT.

SU SHE

unfortunately, was added before their first comeback (second release) and therefore controversial. fortunately, his vocal completes the group’s image and musical flavour

was a trainee in yinshen ent where he really admired their top idol, lan wangji, until... he got to know him (?) when they were sent to compete in a survival show and decided lan wangji ain’t shit and is, in fact, a stuck-up self-centered bitch. the survival show crashed (unrelatedly), but still some serious words were exchanged. during Some Company Problems, quite a lot of trainees have left, but he was the one who left with a Bang.

joined that one subsidiary of jin ent because of meng yao, who, just like in canon, recognized him, said he loved him in (song he’s performed in the survival show) and with this he cemented his position as su she’s new Boy Who Makes Him Go !!!!.

slowly replaced meng yao as The Man Who Does This Face at the other lads’ rowdy behaviour.

fans remember he was :/ at lan wangji, so his persona wouldn’t work anyway, but he does make quite a convincing kind dude-next-door.

stubborn side of the fandom’s next candidate for the mom member, because... he’s ridiculously prepared and reliable. who carries hydrogen peroxide in their daily use backpack? this boy !

it used to be rubbing alcohol but i had too many reasons to apply it internally, he once says mournfully, and this is how xue yang discovers he has a sense of humor, sort of

unfortunately, has the juiciest ass in the group. unfortunately, because

XUE YANG

responsible for: being inappropriate. the other 60% of fuckiness, really enjoys getting into wen chao’s personal space (since wen chao is That straight dude) and just... doing whatever to make su she Scandalized.

but he’s so cute we’ll forgive him. at least until the next time he does a surprise butt grab

very agile! dance line along with meng yao and wen ning. apparently he was a stunt guy...? apparently the lived in the streets...? apparently he went to the same dance school as meng yao...? no one knows his past. no one has seen his kid photos. did he go by another name...? insert the what are birds gif but make it who is xue yang.

adds sound effects to real life. also in his raps, sometimes

started hugging and initiating physical contact with people to assert dominance to be annoying, but ended up actually liking it, even though the one he does it comfortably with is meng yao. just like... back hugs? resting his chin over a-yao’s shoulder? it’s neat. sometimes a-yao pats his hand or taps his nose absent-mindedly and it’s super neat. if he notices you noticing it, though, he will BITE

most popular member, but everyone likes him for different reasons and has a different uhhh headcanon about potentially dating him. bad boy xue yang/cute bratty didi xue yang/sweet boyfriend xue yang, etc, etc

no one knows how, but apparently he knows the iconic duo from a small company, xiao xingchen and song lan...? or rather, song lan pretends not to know or notice him, meanwhile xiao xingchen is very cute when they’re interacting, and basically it prompts a lot of dating rumors, especially since they’ve been spotted having hotpot.

WEN NING

su she was the one to join last, but actually it’s wen ning who’s the least popular member. i’m just so quiet that people don’t notice me, haha, he says while being 180cm tall and having killer charisma when he dances

seriously, what’s up with that? it’s almost like he’s a different person, a possessed one to add to that. huh!

in contrast, his voice is very gentle and even cute, and he often sings quietly to himself. sometimes to other members (there’s a video of him singing what seems to be a lullaby to mxy), sometimes to little animals (there’s a video of him singing to a tiny frog he’s found during a walk). gentle boyfriend wen ning but it’s CANON

in contrast to the contrast, he doesn’t rap often, but when he does, it’s like... who’s that?? another member??? dualism king

when wc/xy cause problems on purpose, he doesn’t react/allows them to tease him/slap his ass/bump into him when they’re fighting. he seems like a calm, gentle guy so when they’re in a variety show and it’s Time For A Punishment, of course he gets to decide/wield the squeaky hammer, WHEREUPON ‘yang-ge, three weeks ago you ate my yoghurt even though i specifically asked you not to, so...’ (whacks xy’s ass into next tuesday)

nice, sculpted shoulders make for very good pillows

MO XUANYU

a Baby, but watch out: a horny one. fully on board with xue yang’s Inappropriate Ideas Of Entertainment. there’s a video of them doing some Rather Dirty dance moves while meng yao and su she make pained faces in the bg

fashion king. make-up king. none of his selfies are bare-faced, he always has some red eye shadow/blue eyelashes/yellow blush/black lipstick going on. sometimes even at the same time. paints his nails and toenails as well. somehow yao-gege doing his make-up makes him fall asleep one minute in. (cute)

his sincere smile is a 100% foolproof way to just... melt everyone’s hearts. in wen ning’s case: with a smile as well. meng yao and su she: an eyeroll (fond). xue yang and wen chao: ‘oh, fuck you’. but it DOES

most of the time though when he does sajiao it’s totally weird. (on purpose, on purpose)

tiny boy. skinny boy. once he turned to the side and vanished. even though most of the time in videos the other members sooner or later end up giving him food! (at some point wen chao says ‘it’s so that you’d shut up’, causing a-yu to start talking animatedly, spitting crumbs into his tea. serves him right)

has a potential to end up as a vocal god. currently however his favourite method of doing things with his voice is SCREAM

famously examines what things are by putting them in his mouth/licking them. he is a little creacher. he cannot change this

bites

#shut up shrimp #ye..lls......... #some other time i'll have to write about what the other dudes are doing in this au #idol au