#my not so little poof ball | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miguelhugger2099 · 22 days

Note

HIII tehehe

so imagine this, miggy and wifey reader coming home from a date and reader is just giggling as she remembers him being kind to all the kids who came up to him wanting to play with him. and reader is just like 'what if i just gave him one instead'

miggy notices his wifey reader giggling to himself, mini fluff moment happens. then reader exposes herself and then

~smut~

Baby Maker

long overdue and was very much in the accidentally deleted category like everything in this ask was written it just needed an ending before POOF gone. so, a thousand apologies i could not say sorry enough nonie. i tried to write down everything i remembered so i could get it out as soon as possible. as always, if you're not satisfied, this ask can be rewritten for a third time Art: feminine.999 on instagram

After a long and tiring winter, Miguel was eager to take you out for a picnic date in the warm sun again. It was always a sweet reminder of your time as young lovers and just having the simplicity of being in each others presence along with some food. So whenever the time was right and the temperature was warm enough, Miguel would plan and whisk you away to the park at the same hill you two have decided would be your spot. "Miguel just hand me something." You smile at him and stick your hands out, the picnic blanket hanging lightly on your forearm. Miguel carries both the cooler and basket as well as your purse on his shoulder. He had only asked you to fold the blanket but you wanted to help so you held onto it instead while he insisted he had everything else. "Ah-ah." He says, shaking his head. "Tengo todo, mama. I'm okay." Obviously, he was. He could carry several more things if he wanted to but you felt really bad watching him. "Give me the keys then. I'll drive." You cross your arms. In truth, he didn't want you to drive- he's a little traditional when it comes to handling things on his own while you rested freely from responsibilities. But, he sighed and instead of protesting, he nodded. "Keys are in my back pocket." He pouts dejectedly. You found it cute and rolled your eyes. You reached around him to grab the keys from his pocket, giving a teasing squeeze to his ass which he jumped at. "Oye." He says with a playful warning tone, squinting his eyes down at you. There's a hint of a smile on his lips, as well as a spark in his eyes. "C'mon." You shrug and skip in front of him, pretending to be innocent. At the car, Miguel was finishing up putting everything in the trunk, massaging the palms of his hands to ease the strain of holding onto the handles of the cooler and basket. You place the blanket over everything, feeling Miguel kiss your temple and his hand sneaking around your waist. "Good?" You ask him, looking up and cupping his cheeks. Miguel leans into you, his hands on your hips to keep him steady. "Mhm." He hums as he looks back down at you. Miguel kisses your forehead then each of your cheeks before finishing it off with a long smooch to your lips. "Let's go home." He murmurs.

Before you could move, Miguel looks down after feeling something tap the side of his leg. A soccer ball rolled a bit before he skillfully rolled it under his foot and kicked it into the air so it landed in his hand. “Whoa!” A chorus of young high-pitched voices shouted in unison. A group of kids huddled by you two, marveling at Miguel. “How did you do that?” One boy gasps, his eyes lighting up in admiration. Miguel chuckles nervously, bashful of the attention of ten-year olds. “Ah–it’s a little tricky.” He hands the ball to a little girl and she waves it high above her head. “Can you show me?” She squeals and Miguel blinks, looking back at you. You covered your mouth to hide your giggles and smile. “Go.” You tilt your head at the group of kiddies and Miguel stumbles over his words but the kids already took your approval and began tugging on Miguel’s arm back to the grassy fields to play.

As you got home, you couldn’t bring down the smile on your face, cheeks hurting with how long you’ve grinned to yourself. You let out a couple of giggles remembering how the children flocked to him and how Miguel looked carrying two grown kids in his arms when his little team scored a goal. Not only had you felt warmth in your cheeks but in other places as well. “Why do you look like that?” Miguel asks after placing the bags down near the door. He’d organize things later. “Like what?” Miguel brings his hand to the side of his face and bunches his shoulders up, looking up at the ceiling with a mockingly dreamy sigh. “Like this!” You punch his shoulder and Miguel laughs, bringing his arms around you from behind and leaves little apology kisses along your neck. “I did not look like that.” You defend yourself. “Mmm, you did. You always look like that anyway. At least when it comes to me.” He mumbles against your ear, his breath tickling your senses and you squeal to move away from him but he just holds you closer. “So what is it this time? Was I extra good-looking today? Did I sweep my favorite girl, my wife, off her feet?” Miguel presses his lips on your cheek with a loud smooch. He couldn’t help teasing you a bit. “No, it was different!”

“Hmm, different?” “The kids at the park.” You feel Miguel pause and he lifts his head up and tilts it to the side after turning you around. “What about the kids at the park?” He asks, confusion swirling in his eyes. “You looked…good with them.” He huffs a quick laugh. “Okay?” “And I was thinking, y’know,” You giggle at the thought of Miguel picking you up, filling you up, carrying a baby–making him a father. He wanted to pick your brain. “What?” He squints down at you. “What if we had a baby?” Miguel’s eyes widened, blinking in surprise. “H-huh?” His voice went up an octave as his cheeks had gotten a little redder. You felt his hands tense around your hips and you secure your arms around his neck. “What if..I just gave you a baby?” You repeat in a hushed whisper. “With your help, of course.” You giggled and your flirting sent shivers down his spine. Subconsciously, Miguel’s eyes turn downwards to your stomach–imagining it swollen and growing with each passing day with just a few pumps of his cum. His eyes dilate and he feels the blood in his body rush straight down to his groin. “O-oh, God…” He groans, his breathing already getting heavy. “Are you sure? You want a baby? You want my baby?” He whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. You could feel his hands gripping your sundress. It fell just above your knees so Miguel was already sliding his hand up under it to feel the skin of your thigh, skin still a little warm from being in the sun. “Mhm, yes, please.” You whine, feeling the rush of arousal drench into your panties from hearing Miguel hold onto his last remaining self-restraint before he fucks you silly. At your plea, Miguel wraps his arms around you and pulls you up towards him to kiss you deeply. His lips devour yours, tongue slipping past your defenses to tangle in a dance with your own tongue. One hand pushes your head closer while his other hand runs down to grip the plump fat of your ass through the fabric of your dress. Tapping it twice, he signals you to jump in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist and he hurriedly enters the bedroom. Miguel falls on top of you, bodies bouncing on the mattress but it does nothing to stop Miguel’s desire for you.

Miguel separates from your lips, dragging his wet mouth down to your jawline and neck while his hands bunch up your dress at your waist. He brings a hand up to pull down the top half of your dress and begins to leave small love bites across your breasts before licking your nipple into his mouth. With your head rolled back, your fingers run through his hair, hips attempting to grind up for some friction but with his weight on top of you–you’re helpless. “Want me to make you a mama, huh?” He growls huskily, lifting his head up and using his fingers to flick and tweak your nipples so he could watch you screw your eyes shut and your mouth parted open as you moan his name into the air. “Want me to make you all pretty and swollen with my cum, hm? Fuck…” “Oh, God–Miggy..!” Your hands at his shoulders, arching your back off the bed and writhing underneath him in a desperate attempt to make him focus on your wet pussy. Miguel can’t help but play with your tits, groping them in his hands and squishing them. He pulls your dress further down, tracing your curves and worshiping them to engrave it in his memory. Your dress now on the floor, you lay bare with just your panties. Miguel presses down on the soaking patch between your legs and you shiver. “No me jodas, Miguel. Just fuck me.” You groan and buck your hips to grind on his fingers but he chuckles and pulls away. “Dale paciencia, mi amor.” He says even though he feels the same, his cock straining against his jeans and leaving a wet spot in his boxers from dripping precum. Miguel leans back down to kiss you, hands fumbling with the zipper and he hastily shoves his boxers and pants down his legs. Deciding he was also impatient, Miguel rips your underwear apart and he bites down hard on his lips to stop him from moaning loudly at the sight of your glistening folds. Mind cluttered with lust, you don’t even notice the tear but you do feel his hard cock rubbing between your puffy pussy lips. He sighs while he collects your slick onto his shaft, his leaking tip mixing with your juices. “Mmm, fuck yes…” He shudders, thighs flexing as his muscles tensed up. Goosebumps litter his skin and he looks down at your body. Sprawled nude on the mattress while you’re already looking fucked out of your mind when he’s barely put the tip in. His cockhead catches inside and he teasingly enters. His hand places itself on your stomach, pupils blown wide open.

“Qué pasa, mi amor? Te sientes bien? Ay, que linda eres...” He purrs as he pushes inside you. “Feel me, mama.” Each inch is slow and he makes you feel the growing stretch of his cock, veins pulsing against your throbbing walls–your cunt convulses around him to suck him deeper inside your warmth. “Mine, mine, mine. So pretty, you’ll look gorgeous when I fuck a baby into this tight pussy.” Miguel whispers against your neck. His cock twitches when you claw at his back, choking out your moans as your face flushes with a warm blush. He could feel his balls aching but he held back as best as he could. His palm feels his cock from inside you, poking through your stomach and his eyes roll back. Fuck, he’s deep. “Tell me you want it. Dímelo otra vez.” He moans, slowly rocking his hips in and out of you. Your mouth had been drooling since he teased your entrance with his cock, mind blank with nothing but the desire to be bred by your husband. With a weak and broken whimper, you begged. “Wan’ it,” You squirmed. “Breed me.” Miguel’s forehead landed on your shoulder, his body hunched over as his hand went to pull your thigh on his hip and slammed into you. You screamed and held onto him before he started pounding ruthlessly into you. You could’ve flown off the bed with just how fast and hard Miguel decided to pace at. He wraps his hands to your ass and pulls your bottom half up for easier access, dragging your wet folds up and down his cock. He pants, breathing shakily as his arms tense up–veins protruding and running down all the way to his hands. Miguel then lets go, grabbing both your legs and pushes them to your chest. He folds you in half, displaying your cunt to his eyes as his main priority. He bites his lip, grunting with every pounding he gives you. His knees dig into the mattress to anchor himself as he jackhammers his twitching cock into your warm wetness. The arousal gushing out of you and rolling down between your asscheeks and onto the bed. “You’ll be such a good mama.” He moans, curling his hips so his cock arches right into your sweet spot. Your cunt squeezes around him tightly, head thrown back while your nails rake his back in streaks of red, imprinting yourself on him. You’re a squealing mess, tears in your eyes and you could barely feel your legs anymore. Face morphed with pure ecstasy as you feel each drag of his cock empty and refill you over and over again. His bulbous tip nudges against your cervix and twitches against your velvety walls and your moans turn shamelessly pornographic-like. Meanwhile Miguel gets himself off to the thought of you creaming on his cock, his balls unleashing his cum straight into your womb and getting you pregnant. He huffs, ears ringing as his mind only focuses on breeding you. He thinks to himself that once isn’t enough. Just one measly pump of his seed won’t be enough to bear you with his child. He’d have to do it more than once. He had to see his thick load seeping out of your puffy pussy folds. He wanted to see you filled to the brim, pumped full to make sure you’ll carry. He wanted to see your belly grow, creating a being that was the perfect combination of you and him.

His mind spurs him on, mouth open as he spews his own moans and praising your tight cunt at how well it takes him. He’s pussy drunk, hips smacking and his balls slapping against you, his body pressing your legs tighter against yourself and ravaging himself into you with heavy thrusts. He grits his teeth when you scream and clench around him, pussy fluttering as you feel the release of an orgasm shoot through your body. Your legs quiver as Miguel holds onto you, eyes rolling back and drool escaping off the side of your mouth. Your cum drips into a puddled mess below you and Miguel’s orgasm follows right after you, drilling his cock until he’s balls deep. His cock twitches with each spurt of warm cum shooting out his tip, plugging into your womb. You take deep breaths but it seems impossible when Miguel keeps your legs up. His head is hung while he waits until your cunt milks every last drop of his seed. You weakly reach up and cup his cheek to catch his attention. He meets your gaze and you give a tired smile and pull him down for a kiss. Miguel eases your legs down and kisses you back. His hands rubs comfortingly around the dip of your waist. For a moment you feel at peace, a bliss of entering a new era with him. The peace lasts for just a moment. Miguel leaves your lips and twirls your body on your stomach, lifting your bottom half up so your ass hangs in the air. In the process, his dick leaves your warmth and it leaves you feeling empty. You gasp and grip onto the sheets, head turning to try and see Miguel. “‘M not done.” He mumbles. “You wanted me to breed you so I’ll fuckin’ breed you.” His words are slurred but his mind is made up. He angles his cock to your wet cunt again, smearing the combined arousal around with his tip as if painting on a canvas. Instinctively, you moan and wiggle your hips back, pussy swelling up with desire again. Miguel smirks and pushes back inside and the stretch is familiar and comforting. Shuddering, your pussy welcomes him back by squeezing tightly, sucking him in, and he hisses. “Uyy, fuck…” He sighs. He starts off slow, bumping you forward with easy and short thrusts, feeling himself slowly grow hard again inside you. Your eyes flutter close, face smushed into the pillow and drooling on the case of it as your body lurches forward. Miguel increases his speed, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip to bring your ass back onto his cock. His balls smack your clit for added stimulation and it makes you jump from the electric pleasure zipping straight to your core. “Oh my God! Miguel!” You whine, heat flushing on your cheeks, Miguel’s dick reaching different places in a different position. The pain of sensitivity washes away, your pussy now craving the hot sticky liquid of your husband. Miguel looms over you, bending one leg to keep him steady as he keeps drilling deeper into you. His lips leave wet and sloppy kisses to your shoulder, panting and sharing warm breaths with you while your bodies buck up against one another.

“That feel good, mama? Hm?” He moans, burying himself in your neck while his hips snap up against yours, ass slapping and rippling with each thrust.

“Yes! Yes! Mhm!” Your voice turns high pitched, eyes glassy and unfocused while being bred like a bitch in heat. Still, you took pride in it to be the one to carry his child, to have him use your hole as his cumdump and take him however many times as long as you keep feeling like this. You’d gladly take him over and over again.

“You’ll give me another baby after this one, right mama?” He hums, tongue licking your neck and nipping at your skin. “Say you will, querida. Say you’ll let me put a baby in you again–we’ll have a big family.” He whines, humping your ass in quick strokes. “Say it, say it, say it, please, please.”

Miguel could feel himself getting closer. He could feel you getting close too with the familiar pulse and clench of your walls around his throbbing cock. His balls are wet with your slick, your wetness never ending.

“Yes! I will! Promise! Just–please!” Your words are barely audible with your face pushed into the pillow but Miguel is satisfied with your cockdrunk state. His cock engorges with the thought of a big family, you giving him as many kids as he wants and him watching it all happen once he spills as much as he wants in your willing cunt.

His hips go out of rhythm, he chases his high of impregnating you for a second time and his cock twitches violently before squirting ropes of cum to paint your walls white. He doesn’t stop pumping, wanting to feel you cream on his cock so badly even when the overstimulation makes him whimper.

With a cry of his name, your pussy pulses around him and you feel his previous load drip out of you to make space for his new one. The liquid trickles down your thighs and your shake as the orgasm is ripped out of you. When you stiffen, Miguel drags his cock out from you and flips you on your back again.

Barely giving you time to recover, Miguel lifts you up from the bed and your back makes contact with the cool wall. He holds you securely under your ass and you automatically wrap your legs around his waist once more. Your arms are around his neck, hands in his hair and Miguel captures your lips in a messy kiss. His hips rut into you to slide his dick back inside which resounds out in rapid smacks of skin on skin contact.

You’re bouncing on his dick, hair tangled and becoming staticy from your head rubbing on the wall. His thrusts slow to a stop as he focuses on making out with you, tongue dancing with yours and exploring your mouth with a low moan of pleasure.

Teeth clack against each other and you roll your pelvis to regain the friction. Pussy clenches around him desperately and Miguel lets out a guttural groan, separating from your lips to bite your chest. Your back lifts off the wall and you push your tits to his mouth, Miguel eagerly sucking your nipples and switching between left and right.

He angles up and up, feeling your walls slide on him like some silicon dildo. He gropes your ass in his palms, kneading and spreading them apart while your slick sounds out with a sloppy, dirty and wet mess. Miguel shoves you harder against the wall, pounding your body in rhythmic thrusts that bang loud enough for a passerby to hear. His back is covered with your nails marks.

You’re screaming, you’re so fucking sensitive but it’s just so hot how he just keeps going. There’s a fire that’s ignited in you–some sick form of pleasure that you get off on your husband pumping you full of semen. It gave you pleasure just how badly he wanted this–wanted you. You can’t help but squeeze around him, pussy unable to handle the bundle of overstimulated nerves so it spasms.

Jaw slacked and spit dribbling down your chin with your tongue lolled out your mouth–you can barely form a thought when Miguel’s fucking them out of you. You didn’t expect for Miguel to jump at the chance at having a baby but right now, it felt so worth it. His teeth bites at your nipple, tongue rolling around the bud and devouring it like you were the sweetest thing he’s tasted.

“Miguell…! I’m so–mmph!–fuck, I’m close!” You pull on his strands of hair and he lets go of your nipple. Miguel leaves his forehead on your chest, breath fanning your skin while he bucks into you. He cums first, his essence spilling out and dribbling back down on his cock and he grunts with annoyance. His annoyance doesn’t last long when you climax just a few seconds after with a squeal. You ankles lock tightly around his waist to push him to the hilt to keep the rest of his cum–old and new–plugged inside. Miguel shudders and moves you off the wall and back to the edge of the bed.

Miguel lays you down on the mattress with a huff of exhaustion, becoming sleepy after three orgasms. Still, he turns you on your side, lifting your leg up so he could slide in his cock between your twitching and sensitive folds.

You strangle out a whine, eyes blinking in a dazed haze. You reach around you to grip his hair and plead for mercy. You don’t know how you even lasted this long.

“Thought you wanted a baby. I’m making sure we’re having that baby.” He mumbles against your neck, humming when he sheathes inside you again. Your cunt spasms, fluttering and pulsating from overstimulation. However, Miguel is gentle this time.

He grinds behind you in easy thrusts. You feel your heart stutter in your chest, turning your head around with your mouth slightly parted, whining out your moans. Miguel kisses you, his hand gripping your thigh tightly to uphold it while his cock slips in and out of you. The evidence of his essence drips out of you and leaves a shiny coat and the milky white circle at the base of his shaft prominent from previous orgasms.

You weakly buck your ass back to go in time with his thrusting. You break from the kiss, string of spit connecting on your wet lips before you rest your head back on the pillow, heart thumping wildly. Miguel goes back to kissing your neck and shoulders.

“Asi es, mami,” He whispers huskily. “One more. Can you do that for me? Jus’ one more.” His hips roll in circles and his hand goes underneath you to reach around to your front, fingers finding your clit. He rolls it between his fingers and circles around it softly with just the right amount of pressure that he knows you like. Your hips stutter and feel another climax coming, but this time a little weaker than the rest.

“Mig…Miggy…” You whine and he shushes you gently. His fingers leave your clit and he rests his hand on your stomach, thumb rubbing up and down the small pudge of tummy where his baby will grow inside you.

“I know, mi reina, I know. I love you so much. I love you. I love you so damn much.” He whispers sweetly, Miguel kissing behind your ear. His words of affection make you whimper.

“I love you too.”

Miguel winds up cumming inside you for the final time, emptying out all of his energy and hugging you tight to his chest while you squeal and cum right after him. He keeps you close, putting your leg down and curling his arms around your waist to spoon you.

Your breathing slowly evens out, exhaustion catching up to you. Miguel pulls out, each drag shocking your nerves until he leaves with a wet plop, strings of cum connecting you both together until it breaks. He turns you around to face him and brings your head against his chest. You hear his heart hammering against his ribcage and you weakly hug him back. You feel full just like he told you he would do to you.

You can’t help but feel content, excitement blooming in your chest for the next chapter in your life with your husband. He's warm.

“We’re gonna be parents.” You whisper softly. Miguel’s lips kiss your hair and he lifts your face up to him. He continues to pepper your cheeks and forehead with kisses.

“We’re gonna be parents.” He echos. “Thank you.”

You couldn’t ask for a better man to start a family with.

A/N: me when i enforce my breeding kink miguel agenda

#nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚#requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader

948 notes · View notes

ceruleancattail · 15 days

Text

Summoning your familiar: Heartsabyul edition

Ace Trappola

You’re immediately engulfed in the scent of incense, a cloyingly sweet smell. A finger taps on both your shoulders playfully, coaxing your attention to your sides.

You turn left and right in turn, to see nothing but thin air. Before a laugh echoes out, and a finger pokes at your nose mischievously. Ace Trappola the kitsune himself, a crooked grin dancing on his lips. His ears twitch, the fur on them rippling with his every move. His tails are left loose behind him, swaying around with the beat of his pulse.

“Master, summoning me again so soon? Did ya miss me that much? You silly little sap- Aw, don’t be mad. I missed ya too. Ahem, anyways-

Whatcha need me for?”

Deuce Spade

A sharp boom resounds across the room. A cloud of smoke poofs up in front of you, as a pair of clawed feet hastily tries to find purchase on the ground. Deuce Spade appears before you, skidding to a halt.

Well, not before he crashes into you, fluffy tails cradling both of you as you two fall. Cushion you with a layer of fluff and fur. Deuce’s all in a fluster, pink tinting his cheeks. As fast as he can, he clambers off you,worry apparent in his gaze. Once you reassure him that you’re ok, his shoulders are slumping out of relief, a sheepish smile stretched across his lips.

“Sorry about that. Guess I’m not too used to being summoned by… anyone. I’ve forgotten how nice it is to be called by name…. To be called by you…

Urm! Enough with the sappy stuff! Deuce Spade, reporting for duty. Your command, Master?”

Cater Diamond

The moment his name leaves your lips, you see ghastly balls of white fire slowly ascend from the ground. They swirl around you, the warmth of the flames bleeding into your very soul.

Until you feel a weight press into your back, a pair of arms wrap themselves around your torso. Glancing back, you’re greeted with a pair of Emerald eyes, the ghost of a smirk dancing across his lips. Cater Diamond, your familiar. His chest rests on the curve of your shoulder as he smiles, half lidded eyes never once leaving your face.

“Cater Diamond. Kitsune!

Currently bound in service to this cutie in my arms. Man, I wish I could hug ya forever, but since you’ve summoned me… we have things to do, yeah?

Direct me then, Master~”

Trey Clover

The smell of crushed clovers engulf your nostrils. A sweet, gentle earthy fragrance that caressed you softly. Tenderly, like the soft touch of a lover. A tail slowly snakes around your thigh, fur as soft as velvet on your skin.

A breath is blown into your ear, followed by a husky laugh, as rich as fine wine. You turn to face Trey, his head tilted ever slightly to the side. Eyes sparkling with amusement behind those glasses of his. Carefully, he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, a soft smile flickering across his lips.

“Trey Clover, kitsune.

At your service, always, my dear Master. Hm, have you eaten already? I’ve baked a few choice pastries back at home… it’s a pity I wasn’t able to pack them for you before you summoned me.

Well then, I’ll do my best to finish this up quickly for your sake then.”

Riddle Rosehearts

Wisps of flame burst into life right before your eyes, twisting and turning into flaming mirages of roses, crackling with pure heat. Nine tails of crimson fur settle onto the ground, trailing after him like a grand cloak of scarlet red.

A pair of rose red fox ears stand straight at attention, as Riddle Rosehearts casts an impressive silhouette before you. Before he turns around, and you can see the soft, gentle affection in his gaze. Taking a step forward, he drops to a knee, hand stretched forth, seeking the warmth of your very own. A old gentlemanly sort of gesture that looked odd on an all-powerful kitsune, but Riddle still insists on it, every time he’s summoned.

“Riddle Rosehearts, kitsune of the Heartsabyul clan. I have come in answer of your call, my Master.

Hm? I’m always so quick to appear? Well, it’s you calling, after all. It’s a duty, as a mystical creature contracted to a human.

After all, mortal lifespans tend to be a little insufficient… so to be punctual to your every whim is simply just my duty. Besides, it’s not like I mind terribly, hearing my name fall from your lips...”

939 notes · View notes

deadghosy · 2 months

Text

HOW THEY REACT TO CHILD READER GETTING BULLIED:

Various x GN! CHILD READER

LUCIFER

You were in your chamber holding your busted up backpack as your father comes in happy to see his little angel after school. As he walks in your room he sees your deflated attitude as it affects him as well.

“What’s wrong darling?”

Is what he says as he keeps a calm posture until reveal to him that you are getting by the kids. You told him how the teachers don’t do shit for you as they only watch you get bullied and give shitty advice for you to only ignore them and not do anything as they do stuff to you.

Well, that drives your father, the king himself, THE BIG BOSS OF HELL HIMSELF TO FUMES!

His eyes turning a flashing red as the next thing you know he poofed into a red mist.

You were confused until you heard screaming outside, you checked your big window to see your school in flames. And holy shit….the worse teacher is on fire as Lucifer chuckles saying.

“DONT FUCK WITH MY CHILD!”

He calmed down when he came back home telling you gently that you are now home schooled. He also brings you your favorite ice cream.

ALASTOR

Alastor hums walking through the hotel’s hallway until he hears sniffles of yours.

Alastor opens your door confused with a small smile to see his little doe curled up like a ball on your bed

“My doe…what’s wrong?”

The moment you mutter that you are getting picked on. They’re already dead.

Like literally he sends his shadows to kill them. He doesn’t care as long as you feel safe and sound.

He might as well home school you as well with the help of Charlie teaching you things beside him.

ADAM

I HARDLYYYYY doubt that there are bullies in heaven as heaven isn’t for sinners or such as people who act rude as hell.

But let’s just say you get bullied for not getting your wings yet and you come home mad and ashamed for even being an angel.

Adam was on his Xbox seeing his own child stomp off to their room, he raises a brow going to your room.

“Yo kiddo. What’s up with you, little shit?” He asked as he knocks on your door only for you to yell at him to leave you alone. Adam scoffs and unlocks your door pissed off.

“Who the fuck you think you’re…yelling at?” He stops seeing your tear filled face as you cover yourself under your blanket. He actually looks concerned and sits on your bed awkwardly not knowing how to comfort you but he pats your back as you nuzzle against his larger Frame of your father.

You told him what happened and he is pissed but not raged. He starts to lecture you about how you are the dickmaster’s child, so you should show them how fucking powerful you are.

He also tells sera about this so she can get them a punishment about how be a perfect angel.

CHARLIE

You straight up told her you were getting bullied for having two moms. And she took this to the principal of the school as the princess, future queen probably of hell.

Let’s say the principal didn’t give a fuck. So okay maybe she got big mad and almost spit fire at the lady in charge of your school. But she exited that school letting you treat yourself with ice cream and treats.

She decided to homeschool you with VAGGIE and the other hotel staff to teach you things they know.

“Mommy has a treat for you!”

It was the best day ever for you as you felt happy to spending time with your mom.

Maybe it won’t be bad to be homeschooled

VAGGIE

You got bullied for the same reason.

Having two awesome gay moms. Of course you told your mom straight up as she nodded scheduling to meet the kid’s parents. She’s not backing down like a pussy cause she wants to know why they want to bully her kid.

After the little conference filled of yelling and berating to the point vaggie thrown a pocket knife pass a person (pilot reference) she left picking you off fuming with steam.

Of course Charlie calmed her down and suggested you either get homeschooled or find a better school. Which VAGGIE will agree either way with one of them.

“Let’s go home kiddo. Your momma is making your favorite…”

“YAYY!”

ANGEL DUST

He obviously didn’t know what to do.

You got bullied by your peers as one of the older kids figured out that your father is an adult actor. I mean damn. You fought back saying that you didn’t care and he stilled loved you.

But then your ass got cracked and you had to tell your father

Angel dust just takes you out of school and let’s Charlie teach you things so he can figure out how to make you feel safe at another school of such

“DONT worry kid. I’ll figure a way for me to a shame to you.

“But you aren’t! I love you papa!”

HUSK

You’re getting bullied?

Bet.

Literally he isn’t gonna do shit, he is just gonna go to that school obverse and single them out for bullying his child. He doesn’t give a shit if it’s a kid as well.

He might as well be the kinda of dad that lets you fight your own battles. But he can’t let you just come home crying about how shitty your school is.

“Wanna chill with your old man?”

“Sure pops…”

PENTIOUS

Sir Pentious was bringing you cookies like the one he made for Lucifer. He hums happily with his egg boiz behind him. He walks in your room to see one of his egg boiz, Frank patting your back while you cry softly.

“DONT worry lil boss. I think you’re amazing!” Frank says as Pentious was confused and sit the cookies down. Your snake father asked what was wrong when you told him what happened after school.

Pentious pufffs out his chest as he kisses your head and leaves the hotel to talk to Charlie about this event. Charlie have a decent answer to either talk to the kids parents or homecschool at least. But Pentious felt like that wasn’t enough.

So he bombed their houses with his egg boiz as he came back to the hotel to see Frank and you eating snacks Charlie and vaggie made you to feel better. Your snake father slithered next to you and pats your head.

“Now they shall never bother you again!” *evil laughter*

#hazbin pentious #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x child reader #hazbin vaggie #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #gender netural

882 notes · View notes

pedgito · 2 months

Text

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 | Javier Pena x fem!reader

summary | your boyfriend delivers the worst news possible on what should be a day filled with love. luckily your coworker is there in wait, not allowing a perfectly good dinner reservation to go to waste. [2.5k]

content warning | this is probably the tamest thing i've ever written, who am i? mostly fluff, vague descriptions of your boyfriend (technically ex-boyfriend/some misogyny (not by javi), small age gap, co-workers, dinner dates and more, unrequited (innocent) crushes, minimal spanish (mostly just pet names), open-ended

author’s note | @pascalispretty happy valentines day!! this is my first time doing one of these and i was your secret valentine, but i hope you enjoy! i haven't written for javi in so long and i was really craving some soft!javi so this was a joy to write. i hope you enjoy!

You hated the stigma around holidays and what they meant, what they entailed, and why people upheld them so highly. But, here you were—tapping your fingers insistently against the desk across from the pool of DEA agents who would throw a file of paperwork on your desk and expect it to magically poof away and, by default, relinquish themself of any responsibility over it in the process.

You couldn’t fault them all—some of them actually managed to follow instructions. A signature here and there, all in order, leaving with little work to do other than file it away. Murphy followed it to a degree that made you think he probably has some time of background outside of here, back in the states. Always uniform, always proper—he’d been a good addition from the start and a perfect match to Javier Pena’s strong personality and unwillingness to give up control.

He also smiled at you every morning and offered a kind greeting, a small acknowledgment of your existence which couldn’t be spared by many others.

As for Javier—he did the work. There was never an issue, but halfway through an expository to a question he asks his attention is drawn elsewhere. Usually to one of the other few in-office secretaries or visitors that just couldn’t resist a bite at the overconfident and suave agent.

You could see the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had to like it—sometimes it impeded your ability to communicate with him and it really, really annoyed you.

Plus, your boyfriend was perfect. Too perfect that it felt unreal at times, but as all things in your life tended to implode on you—you were waiting for the ball to drop.

“Buenos días, señorita.” Javier greets with a smile that shines perfectly under his thick mustache, dressed in his usual pairing of tight jeans and form-fitting button up. This one was pink though, or a deep red. Jesus, how many different ones did he own?

You snort softly, “Morning, Javi.”

And you’re expecting that crisp folder to slide onto your desk but he’s traversing down the steps into the bay of other desks, straight for his. He’s still in eyeline, his and Steve’s shared workspace right in the center.

His eyes flit up briefly, scanning the room before they land on you again and of course you’re staring, but not for the reasons he’s assuming. And there’s a fierceness behind your eyes that he’s seen before, like he’s about to be lectured.

You grab at an empty file on your desk and hold it up lazily, eyebrows raising in expectation.

“Oh shit,” He curses lowly, but not soft enough for you to miss before he’s reaching in his desk and holding up the paperwork, “Here—I’ve got it.”

You pluck the item from his grip as he approaches, this time lingering. He’s got his fingers spread out wide on your desk and he leans, practically towers as you sift through his work quietly before jotting something down on a separate sticky note and filing it away for the time being.

“Sorry, bonita,” He apologized, some sincerity in his voice, “I stayed late last night and finished it up but you were already gone—I don’t forget, you know that.”

“All good,” You offer a polite smile and he still doesn’t move, nodding kindly to a few women that pass by, seemingly more done-up than usual, “big plans tonight?”

A man like Javier, there was no way he spent Valentine's Day alone.

Javier offers a non-commital shrug and nods his head in your direction, “What about you? You got that boyfriend, right? Kid with the glasses?”

And okay, Javier was a good chunk older than you. Ten years, maybe. But, kid? Please.

“Yes, that kid.” You roll your eyes light-heartedly. “Um, I reserved a table for dinner at that restaurant Steve recommended a couple months ago. The one he took Connie to.”

“Yeah—yeah, I know that place.” Been a few times, it lingers on his tongue. It didn’t matter if he went alone, the food was decent enough. “You made the reservation?”

“Come on, Javi,” You slap at his forearm gently, “It's not that big of a deal—besides I just…need a break. I thought dinner would be nice.”

“You know I can’t judge you for living at this place,” Javier says around a soft chuckle, “I’m guilty of it too.”

Many nights spent stuck in the office with just you and Javier—the occasional appearance of Steve. It led you to learn a few things about the men, even if inadvertently.

When leads were dry, Javier will go through half a pack in a day and Steve would chew at his fingernails almost constantly, tapping and fidgeting nearly nonstop. They both had obvious tells—a more obvious one for Javier being the close-mouthed smile he gave to women he wasn’t interested in but still remained polite to while the other, the unabashed grin was reserved for the women who piqued his interest.

He's given you both, but that was beside the point.

“Any recommendations?” You ask curiously, fidgeting with the plastic clip on your pen.

Javier considers it briefly, lips pursing together as he taps his pointer finger in thought, “Well, the Pescado Frito they have is pretty good—can’t really go wrong with that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You note, leaning back in your chair as you spot Steve making his way into the office.

“I thought you hated holidays like this?” Javier questions curiously, a sentiment he shared. They seemed pointless outside of the few that offered him a reprieve from work.

You shrug, looking away briefly to avoid his steadfast gaze.

“Well, I don’t think all of us are impervious to stuff—I wanted to do something…nice. I guess?”

Javier isn’t entirely convinced, seeing the uncertainty in your shy smile but he lets it go, slapping the desk lightly before waving a quick goodbye as Steve pulls him aside.

It had to be intel—and good intel at that by the way Javier’s face morphs into sudden interest, thumb and pointer finger brushing over his mustache.

And really, you shouldn’t keep staring at him. Not with that dinner on the forefront of your mind, the one you had so meticulously planned out for you and your boyfriend.

Things had to be perfect. There was no other option.

But, then Javier chances another glance in your direction and something swells in your throat—anxiety, sadness. You can't quite place it, but you swallow it down. Force it away.

Only a few more hours to go.

The call comes an hour before you’re due to head home, already packing up your belongings preemptively. And you smile at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice.

It’s been a few months. Good months. Too good.

He was younger, like you—some IT guy in his earlier twenties with a kind heart. Or, so you assumed.

“Hey,” You answer softly, lightly into the phone, “reservations are in a couple hours.”

“About that,” His voice sounds off, distant, “I don’t think I can make it.”

Your heart drops into your stomach and you find yourself chewing at your bottom lip in worry, watching wearily as Javier and Steve hold matching coffees in their grip, marching back to their desks in sync. Javier’s gaze lingers for a moment, a normal motion he did just to check on you.

Nothing more.

But, he spots the change in your emotion.

Still, he continues on.

“What—I—I’ve had these reservations for two weeks,” You reply in a hushed voice, trying to contain your frustration, “what happened—what changed?”

“I just—I don’t really know how to say this,” The dread is immediate, but your mind is filled with anger—rigid, bitter anger that wants to bite, “I think we should break up.”

“Are you fucking serious?” The small outburst catches the attention of you people but you avoid their gaze, even more pointedly Javier, who’s gone from inconspicuously spying to full on gawking now, alongside Steve who had a sudden interest. They’ve never seen you like…this. “Today? This felt like a good thing to tell me today?”

“I’ve been trying—“

“You’re an asshole.” You bite harshly, “You can pick your shit up from my apartment this weekend.”

You don’t let him have the final word, slamming the phone back down into the receiver and ignoring the gathering stares and sparse, hushed whispers.

You could sit and wallow, allow yourself to stew in regret and worry, wondering what you did wrong—but you knew it wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been. All the trying and trying and trying you do, the maximum amount of effort met with little enthusiasm. You were naive to think that things would work,

You’re thankful when the shift nears its end and people file out quietly, albeit with a few side-stares, you find yourself mulling over the idea of canceling the reservation completely. But, then there was perfectly good, hard-earned money going to waste. And you could eat by yourself, but the idea seemed even more miserable as you had specifically booked a table for two, decorations and accommodation to match. It felt ridiculous, in hindsight.

You pass the stack of paperwork off to your boss as you step into his office, scurrying back to your desk with your head down—already prepared to go home and wallow in your self-pity.

“You alright?” Javier asks suddenly, jumping slightly at his voice as you turn on your heels, hip bumping into your desk in the process, wincing at the pain, “shit—sorry.”

He’s smiling to lighten the mood but it doesn’t help.

“You’re…fine,” You wave him off, leaning into the weight of the desk as he lingers, fingers shoved into the front pockets of his pants, “I’m heading home in a bit.”

“No dinner?” He asks curiously—if he was attempting to be coy he was doing a terrible joy.

It was only minimally amusing, cracking a smug smile at his obvious prying.

“No dinner,” You confirm, “and he broke up with me, so…”

“Cabrón,” He says under his breath, but it isn’t lost on you, “I’m sorry—that’s…fucked up.”

You shrug, “Now I’m debating on canceling and wasting the money I put down to reserve it or looking pathetic if I show up by myself—“

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Javier defends, speaking entirely from personal experience.

“Javi, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“And?”

Suddenly though, you’re struck with an idea.

“Are you busy?” You ask curiously and Javier raises a curious eyebrow your way and smirks, “No ladies in waiting tonight?”

“Not yet.” Javier jokes lightly, knowing his usual routine of hitting the bar after work would end in one of two ways, and even if he didn’t mind spending his nights alone, it was nice to be in the company of others in whatever capacity.

“Go with me.” You suggest, poking at his bicep. “Since you love the place so much.”

“Come on, hermosa,” Javier chides playfully, “If you wanted to take me on a date, just ask.”

You grin wide, heart fluttering at the flirtatious tone he carried in his voice—it wasn’t something you weren’t used to, but it was never so pointedly directed at you.

“I am,” You tell him, “I just—I’ll need to go home and change first.”

His brow furrows and he looks you over, seeing nothing wrong, “Why? You look fine. You always do.”

It’s something he tells you daily—and maybe he has his own selfish reasons, though you know he does it to most of the women in the office, but the way he’s saying it to you now feels different.

He means it, no humor in his voice.

“My—” You can’t even address him in the moment, rolling your eyes with full force as you rub your fingers over your forehead to will away the lines of stress that form there, “I just—he used to say work clothes never complimented me very well. I already had a dress picked out, I can be quick.”

“Save it. I think you look perfect.” Javier affirms softly, keys jingling in his back pocket as he fishes them out, “I’ll drive us.

“But, my car—”

And hand breaches your shoulder, hot to the touch as his fingers curl around your form.

“Hey,” He’s searching for your eyes, waiting until they lock with his own and he nods, expecting the same motion to make sure you’re with him, “I’ll drive you there and back, you don’t have to change—we can enjoy some good food and forget about your shitty boyfriend, alright?”

You nod quietly, earning a gentle squeeze in response.

–

It wasn’t a date, not in the slightest. But, Javier did his damndest to make you feel like it was.

And maybe it was the guilt over him knowing you just got dumped—that whatever you had spent so much time planning had fell out underneath you, but it didn’t quell the nervous anxiety that you felt as you both sipped on a shared bottle of wine and your separate dinners, watching Javier grimace around the lip of his wine glass.

“Horrible, right?” You laugh softly, watching as he forces the liquid down and nods jerkily.

“Food is great, though—the wine,” Javier makes a face of uneasiness that has you covering a laugh with your palm, “—that’s why I stick with tequila or whiskey.”

“Can’t say I have much of a preference,” You admit, “as long as it does the job.”

Javier nods knowingly, stabbing his fork into a piece of food and chewing thoughtfully, the fingers of his unoccupied hand rubbing together as an idea forms in his head, “You know, if you’re not busy I was going to meet up with Steve and Connie for a drink. Later tonight—if you’re interested?”

You can’t believe how instantly you want to agree, blaming it on your impulsivity.

“Javi, I don’t know,” You respond quietly, “I don’t—I don’t really go out like that.”

“Well—that dress you were talking about. It wouldn’t go completely to waste if you wanted to wear it out tonight. Plus, you treated me to a nice dinner—let me treat you to a couple drinks.”

It sounds like the perfect idea. Too perfect. Too good to be true.

“Javi,” You tease shyly, “if you’re trying to ask me out on a date just say it.”

Javier chuckles softly and you know it’s only an attempt to make a shitty day not so shitty, but the underlying chase you two have allowed to happen for so long now was unobscured by outside forces and you hated how easy it was for him to distract you from everything that had transpired today.

“Is that a yes?” Javier teases.

You sigh reluctantly, though a subtle grin pulls at your face, eyes soften at the expectant look on Javier’s face, all puppy-eyed and nothing like the man you’re used to seeing in the office. This was a side of him that felt new and you were curious to discover more. You nod.

“Well, hermosa—I guess it’s a date then.”

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #javier peña #pedro pascal #my writing #spacesisterssecretvalentine

491 notes · View notes

b0xerdancer-writes · 29 days

Text

It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 6

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that he's already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander, cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet, alcohol, parental abuse, death, murder, arguing. Not proofread.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 4,644

Notes: Let the ball begin.

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

A few weeks later I awoke to a soft knock on my bedroom door. I had been sleeping soundly with the small hound curled into my side, however the small knock was enough to wake her up. I had named her Brandy like the drink my mate was so fond of, she stretched and licked my face to wake me further just as the door squeaked open. Lucien laughed as I groaned and picked Brandy up off of me.

Wait…

Lucien?

Lucien!

Lucien had been out in Autumn Court helping Eris with preparations for the festival for about a week and a half now. His return was a surprise to me and I shot up from the comfy spot I had created.

“Lucien! What the fuck? When did you get back? You arse! You could have told me you’d be back today, I would have had breakfast made!” I growled at him, had he not had Brandy tucked into his arms I would have chucked a pillow at his face.

He laughed back at me and smiled brightly, his hair pulled up in a messy bun and dressed in a cream colored sweater, some comfy loose flowy pants that poofed around his knees from his riding boots, a small tabard for the dagger i had gifted him the first birthday he had that I had seen him since he had escaped to the Spring court. He smiled brightly and looked around my room where gift bag upon gift bag was piled up.

“We finished preparations a day earlier so Eris sent me back here to make sure everything was good and you were ready for tomorrow, He just got his suit last week and didn't need to get it altered by the way. I see he got a bit carried away with his little gifts.” He scratched brandy behind her floppy little ears and let out a small chuckle as she whined whenever he stopped.

“Honestly these are all from throughout the week you've been gone. I just haven't had a chance to go through all of them yet. I mean do we have anything to do today? You could help me, Luc!” I tilted my head at him and he sat Brandy on the floor.

“Well then let's get to it we have a lot to go through, I’ll go get us some coffee and some breakfast sweets from that bakery you like down the road, while you get dressed and ready for the day.” He dismissed himself from the room and I could hear the click of his boots on the floor as he made his way back to the front of the house.

“Hey Luc? Can you take Brandy on her morning walk since you're going out?” I yelled down after him and Brandy barked excitedly.

“Yep! I got you sister!” He whistled for Brandy who raced out of the room after the ginger male.

I heard the jingle of him clipping her leash followed by the click of the door shut. I forced myself out of bed and into the bathroom to freshen up for the lazy day, I moved my hair from my face and slipped into my closet. Once I had changed into some comfy clothes I sat criss-cross on the floor and began digging into one of the bags, the dress I would be wearing tomorrow was neatly hung on my closet door and was a looming reminder of what tomorrow could mean for me and Eris. Lucien returned just as I was beginning to sink into my own thoughts, Brandy was the first to greet me as she climbed her way into my lap. Lucien sat our two cups of coffee on my vanity table and joined me criss-cross on the floor.

The three of us went through bag after bag of gifts, Brandy helping the best she could by being our clean-up team: Her job? To tear up every loose scrap of tissue or wrapping paper that didn't stay in the distinct pile me and Lucien had created. The gifts were unpredictable, the variety too large to guess, still Lucien and I tried our best. So far it had ranged everything from a bottle of wine and nice glasses to drink from and small pieces of jewelry to toys for Brandy, decor pieces to make the small apartment more obviously themed like the Autumn Court, and some very obviously expensive pieces like the last bag I had just opened. Wrapped in shimmery copper paper and tied with a dark green bow, the box was light and Lucien hummed loudly.

“What do you think it is?” He chirped

“Hmmmm, my guess is going to be something for the dance tomorrow, it's the newest present that just came in yesterday.” I hummed back in response.

Pulling the large bow, it untied itself effortlessly, I removed the lid. Just as quickly as I had peaked inside I slammed the lid closed. Lucien looked up at me startled.

“What is it?” He leaned forward trying to grab the box from me to peek inside himself. I swatted his hand and hissed.

He pulled his hand back with a faux-shocked look on his face as he gaped at me. I opened the box again and stared at the jewelry within it. Lucien stared at me expectantly and I tossed the lid into the trash pile, Brandy growling at it as it almost fell out.

“No… he didnt.”Lucien gasped and covered his mouth, the metal eye whirring as his eyes widened.

My eyes darted between the box and Lucien.

“Oh you have him hooked. Seriously hooked.” Lucien mumbled and grabbed a sip from his coffee.

“What do you mean Lucien?” I hissed.

“That, sister, is from the vaults of the autumn court. I saw it earlier this week when I went down there with Eris looking for a piece of art he wanted hung up in the main hall for the dance.”

He murmured as he took another sip to be dramatic.

“Oh.”I mumbled, stunned.

“Oh is right, he's wrapped around your finger hun.” Brandy deposited one of her new toys in his lap and he threw it out in the hall for her.

In the box, nestled on a silky pillow the same color as the bow, was a gold diadem decorated in branches and leaves with a ruby in the center of the point that came between your brows and it somehow matched the cuffs and necklace he had bought me earlier. Beside it was a folded note, written in the familiar cursive scrawl I knew as Eris.

“All preparations have been completed for the festival, Lucien has been a major help in setting everything up while I've been in meeting after meeting. I’m sure you are able to recognize this piece is older, I spied it while in the vaults with Lucien, while I admit it was not my intention at the time to be in the vaults for this piece and I was in fact there for an ancient painting that has been passed down in my family. After I had left the vaults the piece you hold now refused to leave my mind, I imagined how well it would match the cuffs and necklace you will be wearing with your dress for the festival in two days time, I would be honored if you wore this with those accessories as well. It would send a message to all my advisors and those I wish to see replaced, I know it seems a lot and it will take everyone by surprise to see you wear a crown from autumn but my mother had it crafted as a gift for whatever female I decided I was going to court, so it will see its use in you. I will be forced to wear my own similar crown due to my duties as High Lord, so it will make us match even more and present a further unified front to the people of my court who doubt me and pressure me into taking a wife. I thank you in advance my dear. Love, Eris.” I read aloud.

Lucien stared back at me with wide eyes as he prompted my response.

I didn't give one, simply picked up the diadem and rose to my feet. I stood in front of the mirror on my vanity and placed the small gold band on my head, then looked at Lucien with tears in my eyes. He smiled sadly.

“You’ll look like a High Lady tomorrow. Mother save him, Eris will have you decorated and on display more than Rhys does with Feyre.” He huffed with the slightest smile.

I took the crown off and gently sat it on my vanity next to the other jewelry I would be dressed in tomorrow. “Honestly Luc… I think I’m okay with that. I mean it will get suspicion off of Eris, and show him the lengths I'm willing to go for him. Fuck, maybe it will even cause the bond to snap for him, a girl can hope right? If it doesn't go well then I still get to have my fun and imagine what it would be like, right Luc?” I mused at him, sadly at first but then excitedly as I processed the information myself.

He simply smirked at me. “Sure thing, Sister. All I’m saying is, I called it~”

We spent the rest of the evening in the living room burning the tissue paper in the fireplace, eventually Lucien stood and announced he was going to start making dinner. Our night stayed uneventful as we both took our places either side of the table to eat, Lucien eventually herding me to his room to show me the outfit he would be wearing and to show me the trinkets he had brought back himself. Brandy eventually stumbled into the room tripping on her own ears with a big yawn, I collected her from the floor and she whined softly, eagerly awaiting bed.

Lucien chuckled as I dismissed both Brandy and myself from the room, he wished us both a goodnight and closed the door behind us. I had installed steps for Brandy, courtesy of Lucien, so she could climb up and down from my bed as she wished; however due to her size and tendency to trip on her own ears from time to time, often enough I just picked her up to help her up and down. I had sat her in a faux-fur blanket and she began immediately curling into a ball. I couldn't blame her, tomorrow was going to be a long day and she would be joining me; Eris had gifted her an elegant collar that had been lined with fur padding, a deep wine red collar that had small maple leaves embroidered into it, and a little copper maple leaf tag hung from it. I changed into a night slip and joined her in the warm covers, the second I laid down she curled into my side and I dismissed the faelights.

I awoke earlier than I normally did, the dark of the sky just beginning to dim, to find Lucien finishing up his hair in the mirror and he offered to take Brandy out for her morning walk while I got ready myself. Passing him the sleepy pup, he gave me a soft smile and disappeared down the dim hallway, only lit up by one small faelight we used to make sure we didn't trip on any of Brandy’s toys when it was dark inside the house. I slipped into the bathroom around him and leaned down to draw a bath, only to find the bath freshly drawn and warmed to the perfect temperature. Lucien and I had this habit, since we knew the others daily routine so well, from small things like fresh cups of coffee prepared to the perfect temperature with all the fixings in it we had wanted to things such as this, all in favor of making the others day easier for them; it had come to us naturally being roommates for awhile now and even before that when he was small, we would exchange small trinkets like something he found in the gardens and I would bring him a treat from Night Court the next time I saw him.

Lucien returned about half an hour later, a few minutes after I had decided to finally leave the warmth of the bath, now feeling clean and fresh enough to look like the soon-to-be high lady Eris was wanting me to play. I wrapped a fluffy towel around me and slid into my room, slipping on my undergarments and finally stepping into the A-line skirt I had fallen in love with weeks ago.

Lucien knocked softly at the door. “Will you need any help with fastening the dress closed Sister?”

Lucien’s new nickname for me rarely caught me off guard anymore unless he was using it to tease me for what he claimed was Eris’s obvious affections.

“Yes please, actually I could use it now.” I chirpped over my shoulder.

The door clicked open and Lucien stepped in quietly and began fiddling with the clasps on the back. “You know all the high lords will be there tonight right? It's the first holiday or festival hosted in the court since Eris became High Lord. All eyes will be on you two.”

I could hear his genuine worry for me in his voice. “I know Luc, I’ll be okay, Eris will be okay. We’ve got this handled.” I smiled over my shoulder at him and he offered me a unsure smile back,

“I know,” he sighed “I just worry about you two, you two are some of the only family I have, save for Jurian and Vassa.”

I raised my brow at him, he hadn’t mentioned any dealings with the two recently, though I knew the affections he harbored for the two when they comforted after Tamlin sent all of his stuff to the manor south of the Spring Court.

“Will they be there today or tonight as well?” I offered him the ability to further discuss them.

“They should be, during the day at least. That's why we expanded the festival partially, so Vassa could also enjoy it while it also making a statement about Eris’s dedication to the court.” he seemed to brighten up a bit as he got distracted talking about the two.

He sat on the bed and Brandy scrambled to try and climb up the stairs, but when she failed and tripped over her ears Lucien ultimately ended up moving her into his lap. He continued to ramble about some need to know stuff that was seen as customary in the Autumn Court, amongst other subjects, I slipped on the golden cuffs, clasped the necklace around my neck and straightened it out, followed by the ring Eris had gifted me. I slipped on some surprisingly comfortable yet stylish black pumps that had gold detailing on the heels. I grabbed the collar from my vanity and turned to where Lucien was holding Brandy, he unclasped her old collar with a loud gasp and she leapt from his lap, bounding across my bed we both laughed at her antics until she finally calmed and I was able to slip the new one on around her neck.

Lucien stood and ushered me into the vanity chair, he refused to let me do my own hair for events if he had any say in it. He lost himself in styling it before finally setting the golden diadem on my head with a nod, he picked up the container of kohl I had and began lining my eyes with it. Once he had finished, we clipped Brandy into her leash and I picked her up in my arms, she seemed so proud of her new collar. We slipped from our apartment and the wards of the locks clicked into place behind us, he helped me down the stairs slowly making sure none of the tulle or silk got caught. Once we were on the sidewalk I realized the many citizens of Velaris that were out walking around, the sun now early in the sky still well before noon, had their eyes on me and were whispering back and forth with each other with eager smiles on their faces. I knew what they were thinking, Lucien had graciously pointed it out to me yesterday, Oh how I was going to enjoy the look on Rhys’s face when he saw me tucked into Eris’s side; Azriel would probably be told to take a breather by Rhys unless they brought Elain, she might be able to keep him calm.

Lucien tucked me and Brandy into his side, though I could have winnowed us myself Lucien was adamant about me preserving my energy as I ‘have a long day ahead’. Much Like Eris’s winnowing Lucien’s was warm like the caress of heat you would get from sitting beside a bon-fire, but it was unique in itself as it felt like it glittered or shined, that instead of bending the world around him the light and sun rays bent to his whim. Before I could even blink we had appeared in the Autumn Court, the smell of spices and cider filled the air and filled me with a warm familiarity that made my chest ache for Eris. It was only after I stepped out of Lucien’s side that I realized where we stood, the small clearing where me and Eris had once called our sanctuary had been turned into a private garden, a large hedge lined the outer edge of the clearing and led towards the forest house a short distance away.

Only then as I looked around did I realize Eris had the entire clearing decorated in soft fae lights, a sculpted bench sat in the place the old wooden log had, the sir had a soft chill to it and reminded me why I loved this place as much as I did. Lucien stiffened beside me as I sat Brandy on the forest floor, leash clipped neatly to the padded collar, she barked happily in the way of the opening in the hedge that led towards the house.

When my attention drifted towards the gorgeously carved archway, there stood Eris wide-eyed in a suit that matched my dress: primarily black, with the same flame effect of my underskirt on his waist coat. I swallowed sharply and smiled at him, my chest pounded and the bond throbbed with how perfect he looked, with how obvious it would be to all others he was mine.

He gathered his composure and stepped forward, hugging Lucien who dismissed himself through the way Eris had just come, then turned to me and brought my hand to his lips and he bowed softly.

“Cauldron save me, you look gorgeous, just the image I wished to present to my court. Thank you for doing this my lady.”

I smiled softly, feeling heat begin to creep into my face and a throb in my chest. “Mother above Eris, you call me gorgeous yet have you looked in a mirror? You are the epitome of a High Lord!”

He smiled back at me softly, pulling me into a tight hug he sighed softly. “No I mean it Darling, Thank You, tonight would have been so much harder without you beside me. At least now I’ll avoid having to deal with my father’s advisors barking at me to keep my eyes peeled for a pretty female.”

I leaned my head against his chest and sighed, taking in his warm scent. “No worries Eris, like I promised, I’m here if you need me. No matter what. You need me to face every high lord in Prythian all at the same time while posing as your girl? So be it I’ll deal with their eyes on me, no prob.”

I heard him chuckle softly and relax in my arms, Brandy however was not pleased with the fact she was not getting any attention and was adamant about letting us know it. He released me from his hold and looked down at the small hound, with his hands on his hips.

“I hear you mam!” He turned back to me again. “What did you end up naming her?” he kneeled down and scratched behind her long ears.

“Brandy.” I smiled gently watching the scene unfold in front of me.

He snorted as he giggled, Brandy moving to nibble at his hand. “Fitting, she's got the spice of a fire brandy. And it's good to see the collar fits her.”

He knelt there petting the small pup, while looking her over. “No health issues? No training issues?”

I shook my head. “No, I haven't had any issues with her at all. She's been well behaved.”

He smiled and Brandy rolled over onto her belly. “Good, I figured she'd be a good blood line, her sire was Maple’s great-great grandpup.”

I smiled brightly at the two on the forest floor. “I thought I recognized the spunk.”

We both laughed and he rose from the floor, Brandy in his arms happily trying to get to his face, tongue lolling out and settling for just licking at the exposed skin of his arm. I took her from his arms and he offered me his arm, I linked mine and in unison we both took a deep breath.

“To the promise we made all those years ago to never leave the other alone?” He looked down at me out of the corner of his eye.

I nodded. “To the leaves of Maple that were the only beings to hear our promise.”

He nodded back at me and squared his shoulders. All those years ago, when we had made the deal that initially was just him asking to never be left alone, I had extended it to be either way: that We would never leave the Other alone. It had been just us and the trees that day, and as we sealed the deal we had spoken those words to each other for the first time; a sharp sting followed by a dull throbbing on my ankle led me to discover the sight of two small maple leaves intertwined with eachother. Eris had grasped at his protruding hip bone just below where his belt was clasped around his waist, the location of his tattoo had caused my face to heat, just the thought of it today caused blood to rush to my face.

In my dedication to Eris as my mate I had never chased after another male, had no interest in them either really. Of course I knew what would be asked of me as his wife, if had come to that at that time, but all I had ever really seen was my brothers after training, or the low slung pants of male’s at Rita’s that revealed just a little too much for my liking. It had often caused me to lose interest in the current objective that led to me seeing the other males, the bond aching in my chest reminding me of loyalty to Eris, often caused me to return to my room or apartment and escape into the books either within the library or in later years what Lucien and I had collected within our little apartment. Every time we echoed the promise we had made back in the day, I was reminded very quickly of the tattoo on my ankle and the same one on his hip. I felt the heat in my face extended to my pointed ears as my eyes glanced over where the concealed tattoo would be before I straightened my back and looked forward.

Tonight would be hard, I decided. With Eris looking so perfect, the ache of want that had settled in my chest with a slow throb, and the heat in my face and chest that slowly moved lower and lower every time I glanced at Eris by my side. The crunch of fallen leaves under my heels drew me back to reality as we neared the gardens of the first house, I could hear music and laughter from within the house. The halls had been closed off in a way Eris and I could make a grand entrance together through the second entrance into the grand ballroom.

Our steps echoed against the halls as we walked in silence through the now warm halls of the Forest house, till we stopped right in front of a set of large wooden doors. The music and laughter was obvious on the other side of it, two guards looked back and forth between each other and then to Eris.

Eris looked down at me with a worried smile. “Ready?”

“Ready.”I echoed.

We both nodded at each other and then Eris nodded at the guards. Two finely dressed males with simple leathers on, a helmet in one arm and a sheathed blade at either side. They knocked firmly on the door once, the music and chatter from the other side becoming quiet as I heard a loud booming voice clear their throat.

“Introducing our High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra,” soft cheering erupted but was quickly silenced again as the male continued, murmurs replaced the cheering.

“And the female he has declared he will be courting: The Princess of Night Court herself!” Whoops and hollers could be heard as the doors began opening slowly.

Eris and I took a deep breath, Brandy made herself comfortable yet regal looking in one of my arms. I let Eris lead us into the room of Prythian residents. Eris nodded and mouthed a thanks to the small male I now realized was the announcer. We came to a stop a few steps in front of the announcer, and Eris cleared his own throat unlinking his arm with mine.

“Thank you all for being here, I simply wanted to start this celebration with a quick speech.” The way the light of the grand glass chandelier hit him I was breathless, he seemed like the only male in the room as he drew everyone's attention to him.

“As many of you know this is the first holiday I will be celebrating with you all as High Lord, but I would not have been able to do it if it wasn't for the female at my side and my dear brother Lucien, both of you helped me greatly even if you don’t know it. Secondly, I would like to thank the citizens of Autumn Court for believing in me as their new High Lord. My goal from the second I took over the throne has been to reform this court and with your help and dedication I have been able to begin working in that direction. Think tonight not only as a celebration of a holiday but also as a celebration for your hard work. Now please let me not continue to ramble on because I will with thanking you for every little thing that has made tonight possible, and continue your celebrations.” Cheers erupted and I smiled sweetly at Eris as I extended my hand to him which he took eagerly, Brandy cheering him on with her own little howls and bays.

A servant brought around small champagne flutes, both of us taking one as we clinked them together.

“To tonight?” I chirped.

“To us.” Eris echoed my tone, and we both took a sip from the glasses in our hands.

No, tonight wouldn’t be as difficult as I had thought, tonight would be fantastic. I had Eris at my side after all and if all the eyes on us had any indication how it was going so far, it was working.

Taglist:

@stained-glass-eyes0708 @acourtofbatboydreams @abysshaven

@wallacewillow0773638 @azriels-mate2 @sassyslytherinshai

@sparksandstarss @pandabiiissh @saltedcoffeescotch @cirwin2013

@minnieoo @easchies @melsunshine

@sweetcarolina-24 @florenceivy @inloveallthetime

@azrielsmate3 @witchymomfrien @eternallyelvish

@mybestfriendmademe

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction

168 notes · View notes

romanoffsbish · 1 year

Text

It’s Just, a Little Crush…

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

WandaNat x ShyFem!Reader

Song Inspo: Crush

Warnings: Jealousy (subtle)

Smut: Oral (All), Strap (R), Fingering (R), Squirting(R), Nipple Clamps (R), Overstimulation | Kinks: Master(N), Mistress(W), Praising, Humiliation(if you squint), (I was on some whore shit my dudes 🤷🏼‍♀️)

8,937 Words

It was a peaceful day, the sun was out but the warmth wasn't unbearable as the Fall breeze brushed across your exposed skin. Since it was an off day for training you settled comfortably into the hammock in the garden, allowing the nature to calm your chronically nervous heart. Sounds of leaves flying by, and the birds chirping were doing you wonders as you sipped on your water and read "I Think I Love You."

In a sick twist of irony a melodic laughter is passing through your ears, you peered over your book and your heart skips at the sight. Natasha and Wanda were stood outside the doorway, sharing the sweetest of moments as Natasha kept the cackling woman upright. They were truly the most beautiful people you'd had the pleasure of knowing, and it was no shock to you that you'd fallen in love, but it mattered not when they were already together, and you couldn't be a person around them.

—————————

Sighing to yourself you wondered if you should head back inside for a nap, sharing the outdoor space with them would be too much to bare, and you'd been there your fair share of time. You closed your book, then nearly fell from the hammock when Wanda's face was mere inches from yours., "Hey there Y/N/N, are you busy?," she asks, and your hands reflexively ball up., "Hiya Wanda, um, I-I was actually just headed inside to take a nap."

"Boo... We were going to ask you out to lunch.," Wanda whines, and your heart skips at the way the both of them practically stare through to your soul., "Oh, uh, maybe next time then.," you say while hurriedly rushing by, but Natasha catches you by the arm, and you're now faced with her., "We're holding you to that.," you nodded dumbly, then when her hold softened you continued on your path to safety.

"Nat, we're trying to court her, not scare her.," Natasha chuckled., "Yeah, well your way isn't exactly working out that well, so a little bluntness may be just what we need."

—

That night you found yourself in a state of disarray, everything you had attempted to cook failed until all you were left with was instant ramen. Normally you'd be enjoying a feast for the God's prepared by the lovely Wanda, but alas she was out with Natasha for their anniversary dinner, and the compound of men decided it was every 'man' for themselves.

You were boiling your egg in an attempt to liven up the bowl when you heard this obnoxious slurping sound., "That was most delicious, thank you lady Y/N.," Thor boasted, followed up by a loud burp, and you turned to him with a scowl., "That was my dinner Thor!," the big oaf of a man shrunk when you shouted, being the shy little thing that you were hardly anyone had even heard you even speak above a whisper so this was clearly a shock to him.

The man looked like a wounded puppy, and you felt like absolute shit for yelling at him., "It's okay, I'm not even that hungry anyways.," you reasoned., "Sorry for yelling.," and just as you went to leave the kitchen you ran into a soft body, nearly tumbling backwards at the impact but a pair of strong hands gripped your shoulders to steady you. Viridescent eyes bore into yours when you looked up to see who it was and you gulped at the intense eye contact.

"Go sit, Natasha and I brought you dinner.," you went to rebut, but it died on your tongue when she heavily sighed., "Good girl.," you nearly tripped while following Natasha to the table and Wanda held back her snickering., "Thor, get out.," and poof the man was gone.

Natasha silently unloaded the bags while you sat with your eyes cast down staring at the hands in your lap as you picked at your thumb., "None of that dorogoy, your skin only just started to heal.," Wanda tuts, taking the space besides you she reaches over to take your hands in hers, and your breath hitches while your heart does gymnastics in your chest.

"Fettuccine and garlic bread for the pretty lady.," Natasha teases, and your smile is genuine at the concise care shown to you., "Enjoy honey.," The women engage in light conversation as you eat, hoping that you'll interject, but you're far too polite to even consider interrupting them., "How is the food?," Wanda asks, you sigh with a wide smile to follow., "Delicious, thank you."

Wanda frowns when you take your hand back and move to start cleaning up, "Nope, watch.," she instructs, then your eyes widen when the kitchen illuminates in a cloud of crimson red. Dirty dishes zoom through the air, and just like in the Disney movies the things comes to life. Suds upped sponges scrub at the dirty dish ware before they float into the dishwasher where a box of detergent is floating above, a stream of powder flowing into the machine before the door closes in a flash of red.

"Woah.," the pair giggle at your fascination, and it's then that you feel far too visible, the urge to escape them increases tenfold and you abruptly jump to your feet causing both of them to follow as if there was an invisible fire alarm going off., "What is it detka?," Wanda asks while cupping your cheeks that heat up within the same instant that she touches you.

"I'm just, I'm really tired and we have early training tomorrow, so I am going to go to bed.," you take notice of the sadness that fills their eyes when you make your excuse to leave, Wanda steps out of your way, but before you can leave she also pulls you into her body., "Sweet dreams Y/N/N.," she whispers, the ghosting of her lips at your temple has you nearing a state of cardiac arrest. Only to be made worse when Natasha strong arms you into her hold next., "Goodnight sweetheart."

"Goodnight guys, thanks again for dinner.," you smiled kindly at the pair, then you made your quick exit, and that barest of interactions only made them yearn for you even more., "God Natty, she's just the cutest little thing.,"

——

Natasha and Wanda entered the training room to set up for the day, and just as they went to enter they freeze in the doorway. They were expecting the room to be vacant this early in the morning, but it appears you wanted to get an early morning warm up in, and it was the cutest thing they'd ever seen.

"You're a teaser, you turn 'em on; leave 'em burning and then you're gone.," you were doing jumping jacks while singing along to the Abba song with your back turned to the door. Your dri-fit shirt was clinging to your body as the sweat suctioned it to your skin, and the women held no complaints as your muscular form was made readily available to their eyes.

"She speaks the truth.," Natasha whispers into Wanda's ear, receiving a jab to the ribs as a silent warning., "It was worth it."

"Looking out for another anyone will do. You're in the mood for a dance, and when you get the chance.”

"Here it comes.," Natasha whispers to her lover with the widest smirk., "Shh...," Wanda sneers.

"You are the dancing queen.," you spin around with your eyes closed, singing with all your might., "Young and sweet, only seventeen. Dancing queen!.," The women found great enjoyment in watching you move about to the rhythm as you belted the lyrics out with such a deep, resounding passion.

"You can dance; You can jive, Having the time of your life.," Your singing soon blended into a shriek though when your eyes shot open to see the beautiful couple stood there watching you. The burning in your cheeks only intensified as a nervousness settled deep within you as Wanda was beaming, and Natasha looked to you with that lopsided, teasing smirk of hers.

"H-Hi guys, did you need the gym?," you tried to skate right passed the previous moment, but Natasha's chuckling left you more nervous., "We came to set up for training, but to our surprise we got a show instead.," the former assassin jested, much to her downfall as Wanda once again jabbed her in the ribs.

"Detka, the gym is meant to be shared.," Wanda coos while pushing your sweaty locks off your face, you blink a few times in quick succession in an attempt to understand how she'd gotten so close to you in just a blink., "Don't let Natty tease you into running off.," she continued to speak softly, being so close you could see she was equally as amused, but you could also tell neither of them meant you any harm with all of their teasing.

"I myself enjoy your presence Y/N, much more than hers actually.," Wanda jokes when she saw your walls were finally falling., "Hey!!," you giggled when the former assassin protested her lovers words, and both women took in the beautiful sound, fully embracing the way it was more genuine than your usual nervous one., "I'll remember this.," Natasha grumbles, you and her girlfriend shared a knowing look then burst into even harder fits of laughter.

—

Once the rest of the team floated into the room you became quiet again, Natasha and Wanda wanted to glare at the men for ruining their chances of spending quality time with you. Then they remembered this was sort of all of your jobs, so they settled the festering anger, and instead they focused on the assignments.

Steve assigned everyone a partner for the hour, doing his best to ensure it was a suitable match so that everyone was challenged, but not in a way that left one side unfairly vulnerable. Part of you was relieved when it was announced you were to be with Nat, but another part of you feared the proximity sparring brought with it. Joking around with the couple was one thing, but to be at Natasha's mercy—because there was no way you were getting the upper hand over on her—was rather daunting. Natasha was however thrilled beyond normalcy, smirking smugly all the while Wanda was telepathically cursing her out for the subtle win.

"Here detka, let me help you out with that.," she mirrors you, straddling the bench and leaning in unnecessarily close to you while wrapping your hands for you., "Th-thanks.," Natasha loved just how easy it was to get to you, if just sitting with her closer than usual was an issue, she can't help but internally beam at how flustered you'll be when under her.

"Don't mention it sweet stuff.," her lips gently pressed to your cheek., "Now come on.," she playfully commands, leaving you on the bench a thoughtless mess until Steve barked at you to meet the slyly smirking former assassin on the mat for work. You took in a deep breath, then against the shake in your legs you made your way over to face her with faux confidence.

Natasha nods, a silent command if you will, so your hands raised and you began to mirror her as she was circling the mat. To her total shock you took the first step to make contact, but she was too quick, and you overestimated your lunge so you began to fall down. Natasha was proud when she saw you gracefully turn the fall into a tucked roll, springing back up before she herself could even get the upper hand on you.

"Good save detka.," and just as you begin to feel a sense of pride you're gasping for air as your back hit the mat., "Never get too cocky.," she teases with an outstretched hand to help you back to your feet, pulling you to your feet abruptly, and her lips graze your ear., "Save that energy for tonight sweetheart."

Natasha stepped a few paces back, snickering quietly as you stood there in stunned silence. You didn't exactly understand the innuendo, but her tone left you aware that it was dirty. With your clearly flustered state she made her next move, and in quick succession your back hit the mat once more, you gasped painfully, and your entire body felt like it was on fire since this time you were trapped underneath her hovering body.

Natasha was straddling your body, the first moment of squirming got you nowhere when she was able to scoot up effortlessly, trapping your arms against your sides, and so you went limp., "Oh no, don't give up now krasivaya.," you glared up at the woman, but it held no true malice, so she returned your look with a smirk., "Come on, use your training detka, fight me.," she snorted when you began to thrash beneath her., "You'll have to try harder than that if you plan to ever get the upper hand on me.,"

"Well maybe I don't want that.," you angrily huffed in the heated moment, but within the second your eyes widened at your confession., "Natasha, I-I.," she shushed you with a finger to your lips., "Shh, don't ruin the moment.," she throws you a wink before removing her body from yours, her outstretched arm lends you to know she's clearly not upset with you., "Better see you at the movie tonight Y/L/N.," she parts with another kiss to your cheek.

Natasha heads off feeling rather accomplished, swaying her hips tauntingly knowing your eyes were still on her body, then she winks at her lover who simply rolls her eyes in response.

The next moment when Steve announces everyone's permission for dismissal you run off to the showers to cleanse yourself of all of your sins, and to likely overthink the previous moment. Especially when you hear the unmistakable sounds of the couple of your dreams giggles. They'll surely be the death of you one of these days, you're certain of it...

—

When you arrived to the living room it had been after thirty minutes of contemplation. Wanda's voice in your mind was what finally got you to make the choice of coming down before one of them came up to collect you. Facing either of the women after what you said to Natasha, and knowing she relayed it to her lover felt like a task within itself, add on the whole team and it felt nearly impossible.

Your thoughts were only confirmed when as you entered the living room there was no available seating for you, and the entirety of the team was staring at you. Wanda saw the way your hands instinctively balled up, your nails digging into your palm made her feel sad., "Detka, come over here please.," and with the way she looked at you it was as if your feet knew it best you complied., "Sit here honey, the movie is starting, and we'll keep you warm."

You internally groaned—as if you weren't hot and bothered already, Wanda had to turn away to hide the smirk as she heard your thoughts., "Don't worry detka, if you get scared we're here to protect you.," Natasha whispered against the shell of your ear, and you weren't sure if the hairs now stood at attention were from the threat of a horror film, or from the way her hot breath fanned across your skin, but either way you knew you were in for one hell of a night.

Tony's selection of the Leprechaun, a movie you were unfamiliar with, turned out to be the worst thing to have ever happened to you. Natasha and Wanda didn't feel the same though, because as the film continued to torment you you'd began to shift into them. One particular scare had your entire body jolting off the couch, but Natasha was quick to grab your hand, she spun you around then pulled you into her embrace., "Shh, detka it's okay... We got you.," you missed the shared smile of accomplishment between the lovers, and had you not been beyond terrified of the murderous little shit on the screen you'd have been far more ashamed of the way your face was smushed into the older redheads breasts.

Wanda had maneuvered your lower half so that your legs were no longer dangling, and were instead laid over her lap, and she made sure she glared at all other Avengers who were not minding their business. She soon found her eyes transfixed on your relaxed face in lieu of the film as you'd quickly fallen asleep against her lovers chest. The scene was rather domestic if one just overlooked the way Natasha smirked at the sounds of the screaming girls on screen.

As the movie ended Tony had advised Friday to turn the lights on before the women could attempt to stop him, and just as soon as the rays reached your eyelids they shot open, and your body went rigid in their holds., "Sorry.," you'd sheepishly apologized, voice slightly muffled by the smooth skin of the assassin and your heart began to hammer even harder as you truly took in your compromising position. Natasha only held you tighter when you went to squirm out of her hold., "Detka, relax.," and to all of your shock your body settled into her.

——

After a month of nonstop missions the redheads were desperate for your attention. They'd only seen you in passing, your shy demeanor returning far more prominently when you were as exhausted as you'd been made to be. Natasha had already scolded Fury for his overuse of you, and she made sure you'd never know about it either, you just thought the need for missions had suddenly lessened.

They gave you a few days to yourself, to catch up on sleep, and have some relaxing you time. Even if the simple act of doing so physically pained them, so now that they deemed you rested up they were going to cash in on their 'share a meal with us' ticket. Evening was fast approaching, the perfect time to catch you and take you to the new Italian place up the street.

As the couple entered the living room they found you were fast asleep on the couch, and they audibly awed at the cuteness overload. Your right hand loosely held onto the TV remote on your abdomen while your other arm was laid over your eyes to block out the light. Waking you up felt so cruel, but the selfish part of them overwhelmed their minds so they stepped towards you, but just before they could wake you up Tony and Sam burst through the entryway, hands clapping together loudly, and therefore startling you into an upright position.

"What's wrong? Who needs help?," you slurred, jumping to your feet so fast you ended up swaying a bit, and Wanda was quick to pull you into her steady form., "Shh detka, the only thing that needs help is these two idiots.," she shushed you while sending the men a pointed glare, her demeanor only softening when you cuddled even further into her side while also yawning., "Then why all the fuss?"

"Well Y/L/N, we're glad you finally asked.," Tony teases, then gestures for Sam to answer., "It's been a long month—you'd know that most. Stark and I have decided that for team bonding tonight that we'd all go out to the nightclubs.," you immediately began to tiredly shake your head in the negatory but Tony simply scoffed, "Not a choice Y/L/N, so wear something nice, preferably revealing, and be ready by 6PM."

Tony effortlessly dodged the item surrounded in crimson wisps that was thrown at his head, and Sam was fortunate enough to not have said the wrong thing so he followed the billionaire out without incident. Wanda quickly turned her attention to you, the pretty girl lightly trembling in her hold—not enough that one might see, but surely enough for her to feel.

"Detka, what's wrong?," you looked up to her and Natasha with an adorable pout., "I-I don't have any nice clothes, all I have are my mission suits and my casual stuff.," Natasha put her hand on your back, rubbing lightly to soothe you., "Don't worry your pretty little head angel, we'll find you something to wear—you rest."

—

Natasha and Wanda were true to their word, but judging by the skimpy clothing they left you with they weren't opposed to Tony's idea. Sighing at the idea of being so exposed you began to sort through the offered wardrobe. Had you not been going to a place with booze you'd have just found a proper place to hide from your group of persistent teammates.

Natasha and Wanda were waiting for you at the compound entrance, but Tony was quick to shove them into an awaiting car with Sam., "She'll be there shortly, I'll make sure of it, you three need to secure our booth reservations.," and before they could rebut the man slammed the door and tapped the car to usher if off.

"You look really nice Y/L/N.," Tony greets your nervous form as he enters the kitchen you were nervously snacking in., "Don't you have a wife?," you deadpan and the billionaire chuckled., "Yes, and two perfectly working eyeballs.," You'd rolled your eyes, then moved to straighten out the tight red dress clinging to your body before accepting his awaiting crooked arm, reluctantly you'd looped yours through and allowed him to take you to the car.

—

Natasha and Wanda were at the bar ordering shots when you'd walked in with Tony, and it really was a shame because you looked great. Once they returned to the table their faces fell when they saw Tony sat there without you, "Where's she at Stark," Natasha asks, the bite in her voice unrestrained and the man gulps, because he's not sure the truth is much better than them thinking you just weren't here.

Wanda saw the way he looked between them instead of at them so she was quick to shift her gaze backwards. Her jaw was nearly on the floor when she saw you on the dance floor with a mixed drink in your hands while your body moved along to the rhythmic music with ease., "Fucking hell.," her cursing drew Natasha's gaze from the useless man and over to you., "Chertov ad.," she confirms, her shot being thrown back with ease, and without another word she was dragging a speechless Wanda behind her on the way to the dance floor.

Natasha stops just out of your eye line, the both of them more than okay being silent observers for the time being as you sip your drink and sway your hips delectably to the upbeat music.

"See you blowin' me a kiss, it doesn't take a scientist to understand what's going on, baby."

Wanda was the first one to notice the blonde making her way towards you, Natasha was the one who saw the interest you were showing. Jaws clenched at the varying sights, and the idea of quietly remaining on the sidelines was thrown right out the window.

You'd found the eyes of strangers flattering, but there was a layer of emptiness that came with their gazes, you knew why it was there, but you reminded yourself that this is the reality you needed to get used to; rendezvous with total strangers because the women of your dreams are not likely obtainable.

"If you see something in my eye, let's not overanalyze. Don't go too deep with it, baby."

Or so you thought, because the stark blue eyes that once expressed clear interest in you from across the dance floor were now glowing a crimson red, her body quick to scurry away, and yours basically followed suit in reverse.

"You say the word forevermore, that's not what I'm looking for. All I can commit to is maybe. So let it be what it'll be. Don't make a fuss and get crazy over you and me."

The sight startled you ever so slightly in your inebriated state, the step backwards you took was reflexive, and it left you to gasp when a pair of hands settled over your hips, the scent of her distinct perfume the only thing letting you in on who's holding you., "I'll play loose; not like we have a date with destiny.," Natasha found the lyrics rather amusing, so she leant forward, beaming at the way your body shivered from the simplest of contact., "Detka, I think if we're all being honest here our date with the all elusive destiny is well overdue."

"It's just (aah) a little crush (crush); not like I faint every time we touch.," Wanda suddenly slid before you, successful in sandwiching you between her and her longtime lover., "It's just (aah) some little thing (crush); not like everything I do depends on you," you gulped when she began to lean in, her lips teasingly slid over your cheek, leaving a smudge of her dark red lipstick behind en route to your ear., "This is also so much more than a crush, so how about you stop running from us, hm?"

Wanda was pleased to see the excitement behind your intense stare, then when your gaze not so subtly dropped to her lips she knew they had you where they wanted you. Her hands settled over Natasha's as she leaned into you, but her lips only ghosted over yours, she was giving you the chance to pull away, and when you didn't she eagerly closed the lingering gap.

Natasha's strong hold on your hips tightened when your ass was pushed back into her by the force of Wanda's lips that collided with yours, she smirked against the nape of your neck at the gasp you released upon feeling the bulge of her strap in her pants., "That's for you detka.," she confirmed, causing you to whimper into Wanda's mouth, and grind against her of your own volition., "We're going to take such good care of you tonight krasivaya.," another sinful whimper left your mouth when Wanda all of a sudden pressed her pelvis to yours, you were able to feel yet another bulging strap.

You could feel just how wet this brief steamy encounter made you, and so you were nothing short of desperate when reaching to pull Wanda even closer, if that was even possible. Wanda, much to your dismay, pulled away from the kiss, chuckling as you tried to chase her lips., "Look at her Tasha, so desperate for us.," the widow chuckled along with her partner., "Then how about we blow this joint, and give her exactly what she wants lyubov'.," Wanda smirked., "What do you say detka?"

The second you nodded the three of you were flying to close your tabs, each woman with your hand in theirs, and the widest smiles on all your faces as you proceeded to run out of the club in a fit of giggles. All of you failing to see the smug smile on Tony's face while his empty hand sat before Sam's gobsmacked face. The younger man dropped a $20 into the hand of the billionaire, cursing the whole time about having had no clue this would happen, and why the hell Tony's ass needed a broke dudes cash.

Tony snorted., "It's the principle of the bet bird man.," he clapped his hand over his shoulder in a show of faux camaraderie while slipping the bill into his pocket., "I wonder how they failed to notice the lack of the team being here."

"Sam, those women had their own agendas for this night, the lack of a couple super soldiers, an archer with a family, and a socially inept scientist didn't bother them in the slightest."

"Are we going back to the compound?," Sam questioned, and the billionaire shook his head., "Oh, absolutely not, I value my sleep too much, plus I got a wife and kid waiting for me at my actual home. Good luck birdboy."

—

Sitting in the backseat of a car, a panting mess, was not how you saw your night going, but you weren't complaining; Happy was not either. The women of your dreams were becoming your reality, their hands and lips were all over you, any skin that was visible to them was fair game. The whimpers they were able to pull from you was all the inspiration they needed to keep going, well there was that, plus the fact that they'd never really intended to stop.

Once Happy stopped the car Wanda used her powers to throw the door open, a bit irrational you think, but hot nonetheless. Natasha's hands were on your hips in no time, gentle but brisk as she pushed you across the seats and into Wanda's arms. Then upon exiting the car you watched them exchange a look, the smirk on Nat's face worried you, and within a second flat you find yourself thrown over her shoulder as the two of them effortlessly sprinted into the compound. To feel just how wanted you were by the gorgeous women was rather arousing, even if it was a bit humiliating to be carried, truth be told that was a contributing factor for why your panties were likely in ruin.

The moment they placed you down on the bed your eyes began to wander, the space that felt forbidden to you, but was always open for your viewing looked exactly as you'd expected it to. Natasha and Wanda shared a smile, giving you your moment to observe all that's new to you. Too afraid to overwhelm you—their shy baby. Their room was expectantly bigger than yours, that didn't phase you one bit, it was the built in reading nook that left you with bubbling envy., "Feel free to use that anytime you want detka, but for now, do you think we can use you?," the way she smirked at you while basically staring into your soul had you instantly rubbing your thighs together, a non verbal yes if you will.

The soft way in which you'd also gasped lent to Wanda settling down besides you, a soft hand turning your face to meet hers., "First, can you tell us how much you had to drink angel?," melting into her touch you softly hummed., "Only the one, I-I'm not even drunk anymore."

"Perfect.," she beamed, then her hand shifted to tangle into your hair, pulling you in for a tender kiss that soon left you breathless. With your focus on Wanda, who's tongue was not afraid to explore your mouth, you failed to hear Natasha's slacks hitting the bedroom floor. Only when her hand joined Wanda's in your hair, turning you away from the witch to look to her did your eyes have a chance to wander. The real sight of her naked transcended your greatest fantasies, she was otherworldly, and you were still shocked she wanted you like this.

Having your eyes on her just felt right, Natasha had been anticipating this moment for so long, and it was living up to all of her expectations. Your eyes still held an innocence, but the way you instinctually licked your lips at the sight of her strap told her you likely knew a bit more than they expected; that honestly excited her., "Come here krasivaya.," the redhead used her hold on your hair to gently pull you up from the witches lap you'd migrated into, and into her strong arms instead., "May I?," with her hand on the zipper of your dress, and her eyes on your lips you'd found yourself at a loss for words, so you sheepishly nodded instead, and just this once she decidedly let it slide.

Next to slide was your dress down your body, hitting the floor with a soft thump, that was a direct contradiction to the wild one inside your chest., "Holy shit detka, you're soaked.," her eyes were transfixed on the wet patch that covered the majority of your panties, a fresh wave of embarrassment crashed over your body, but the ever knowing former assassin was quick to use her free hand to stop yours from their fidgeting, and her lips finally pressed to yours to quell the insecurity she knew was fogging up your tortured mind.

Soon Wanda's pressed up against your back, hardened nipples brush against your skin as her lips tenderly press to your spine column. You shudder at the feeling of her cold fingers on your exposed hips, your body more than a bit overwhelmed by both of their attentions. Peering over your shoulder she locks eyes with her lover who's just pulled back from you for air, they have yet another silent discussion while you work to regain some composure.

After you witnessed Nat nod her head yours is being turned to the side so that Wanda's lips can meet yours, catching your soft whimpers as Natasha's slowly marking your chest, briefly she toys with your nipples, chuckling against your skin at the way you whine and shimmy., "Such a reactive little thing you are detka, we're going to have so much fun ruining you.," her hands naturally settled over the hem of your panties, warming the entirety of your body., "Please...," her eyes widen, it wasn't her exact intention as she settled on her knees, but your soft pleas and the smell of your arousal help her to make her mind up., "As you wish."

A breathy sigh of relief leaves you when the sticky material of your slick coated panties are finally removed from your body. Natasha's body shakes with excitement when met with your glistening folds, the need to taste you has been steadily on her mind for months now, so it should be of no shock as she dives right in. The moment her tongue flicks over your clit your body jolts back, pushing into Wanda, and pulling an affected groan from the brunette as your ass smacks into her strap.

Natasha heard her lovers cries, so without a second thought she lifted your leg over her shoulder, then with blind precision she reached around to guide Wanda's strap to your pulsing entrance, and the witch didn't have to be told twice, her hips thrust forward, filling you to the brim, and her lips attached to your neck once your head flew back against her shoulder due to the blinding pleasure coursing through you.

The couple worked in unison to bring you to your peak, Wanda's hands played with your breasts while she deeply thrusted into you, all while Natasha never wavered from using her talented mouth to stimulate your clit, and with a final thrust you were screaming, your walls fluttering around the strap that was now coated in your thick arousal. Once the brunette slowly pulled out of you Natasha swiftly replaced her strap with her tongue, collecting every last bit of your addicting arousal that flowed on out.

"You did so well for us detka.," Wanda coo'd, hands still gently kneading your breasts, her lips peppering kisses to your skin to calm you while Natasha continued to clean you up., "We're not even closed to finished yet either.," the redhead said as she emerged from between your thighs, her face shining with both your slick and the accompanying smile., "Good."

Natasha quirks a brow, thoroughly amused by your subtle traces of attitude, her heart then picks up at the thought of breaking you in., "Your Master wants you on your elbows and knees, with your ass up.," her words were stern, but her thumb stroking over your cheek was soft, a total contradiction to the darkness taking over her once green eyes., "I'm gonna fuck you while you suck your Mistress off.," she gently pecked your lips, then as if her intention was to give you whiplash she spun you around by your hip, and pushed you towards the bed.

Wanda was already laying down, so you were careful when climbing onto the bed, your hands were besides her thighs, while your spread out knees settled between her legs., "Look at our precious girl Tasha, so pretty and on top of that she's just such a good listener.," you whimpered as the woman praised you., "Yeah? Then why isn't she doing what I said?," before you could mutter an apology you were screaming from the immense pleasure Nat's strap was bringing to your body, your walls stretched with every inch she managed to push into you, it was the same length, but looks were deceiving because it was thicker than Wanda's.

Natasha hips were stilled, allowing you time to adjust to her size, but she was also patiently waiting for you to get to work. After you caught your breath, and felt your heart return to some sort of baseline you looked up to see Wanda's eyes were already on your kiss swollen lips, the same pair that were meant to be bringing her pleasure, and though she wasn't frowning you could see the disappointment in her eyes.

Taking in a shaky breath you used one of your hands to lift the strap up, the tip grazed over your mouth, leaving a trail of your slick behind that you experimentally licked, the brunette watched intently to see your reaction, and the way you moaned at the new sensation didn't disappoint. In fact, it only turned her on more, her hips jutted off the bed, causing the strap to clash into your teeth, you didn't let that throw you off though. With your hand on the base you pressed down, primarily for her pleasure as she moaned at the sensation, but also for leverage as you began to take the strap in., "That's right honey, make your mistress cum."

Natasha began to move, her thrusts were slow and deep, neither woman intended to hurt you, or let carnality win out without your wishes; honestly all they wanted was to love you, and you surely felt that in all of their movements. Wanda was restraining her hips, that much was obvious to you, the same was to be said for how Natasha kept a consistently slow pace, it truly warmed your heart, but you needed it harder., “Master, Mistress: please use me—need more.,” you’d whined pathetically around the tip of the witches strap, and with a shared set of smirks the lovers gave you exactly what you wanted.

The room soon filled with the sounds of your moans, that were repeatedly interrupted by your gags as they used your body like a rag doll. Natasha was pulling you back by your hips so aggressively that there’s likely going to be marks, while Wanda shoved you down by the grip in your hair as she unrelentingly fucked your throat., “Fuck, detka you’re taking us so well, I can tell you’re close.,” Natasha grunted while fighting the grip your walls had on her strap to thrust into the spot that had you seeing stars., “Go ahead baby, let go for us.,” Wanda added breathily as Natasha reached around to rub your clit, bringing you over the edge.

Wanda’s body stilled beneath yours as your body jolted so harshly that the harness hit her clit just right, and sent her tumbling into the world of immense pleasure with you. Natasha lifted your body upwards with her toned arms, her hips continuing to rut up into you in a desperate need for her own release, while in turn deliciously prolonging yours., “Fuck, you are so perfect detka, taking my cock so well.,” you managed to plant your feet on the edge of the bed, and with that leverage you pushed down into her thrusts, and in under just a minute she was screaming in pleasure, her teeth sinking into your shoulder as the wave’s overwhelmed her, and in turn you were thrown into another blinding orgasm of your own.

Natasha’s tongue glided over the harsh mark in an attempt to soothe you, her lips continued to travel over your back, leaving deep marks behind while the both of you came back down., “Clean mistress up detka, I’m going to go grab something.,” Natasha pressed a kiss to your temple while holding you tightly to her body, then once she noticed Wanda had shimmied out of the strap she lowered you back down, then glided her strap right on out of you.

Wanda’s hand settled on your cheek, the two of you sharing a soft moment before you did as your master said, causing the witches head to fly back into the pillows while her hands flew up to her breasts for added stimulation., “Fuck, you’re so good with that tongue of yours detka, gonna make your mistress cum again.,” she panted out, you were only meant to collect her previous release, but she wasn’t complaining with how deeply your tongue was thrusting into her, swirling around and prodding at her spot that sends her body into a fit of trembles.

Natasha watched from the doorway, arousal pooling in her lower abdomen with just how well you were able to work her longtime lover over, and with how eager you were to clean up the mess you brought about for a second time. This moment with you was already greater than either had expected it to be, with how shy you always were they really only expected you to take what they had for you, which was more than enough, but your eagerness to please them just the same was a welcome surprise.

Natasha abruptly flipped you off of Wanda, smirking down at your cum drunk expression, and leaning down to kiss you passionately. Slipping her tongue passed your lips she was moaning instantly as the familiar tang of Wanda enveloped her tastebuds. While your mind was preoccupied with maintaining the heated kiss Natasha’s hands slipped between your bodies, a cold feeling being drug over your abdomen left your body to shiver, making the redhead excited for the next reaction she was likely to pull as she expertly clamped the metal over your sensitive nipples., “Oh fu-fuck...”

She pulled back to gaze at your face, ensuring that the pain had only been momentary, you looked back up to her with a subtle smirk, she was relieved to find you enjoying the clamps., “Master.,” she quirked her brow in a silent response., “Thank you.,” tugging on the chain she offered you pleasure in lieu of a response, your consequent moan a thrilling sound., “Such a reactive little play thing.,” she mused.

Without another utterance she was crawling up your body, her thighs settling on either side of your face, situating her core above your eager lips., “Look at what you’ve done to me honey, time to do your due diligence, and show me just how you made your mistress scream.,” she lowered her puffy core down, sighing as soon as your tongue swiped through her sensitive folds, and screaming as you sucked her clit in between your teeth., “Fucking good girl.,” her groan made your heart swell, and only added to your need to please the women of your dreams.

Wanda enjoyed watching her lover writhing above your body while her heart rate settled, granted, seeing the way you pleasured her did have it stuttering every time you managed to pull a raspy, strained moan from her lovers throat. The sight of you beneath her was the most exhilarating for her, a smirk overtook her features upon seeing your thighs clenching. Clearly you were just as affected as she was by Natasha’s borderline pornographic moaning, and the witch would not be wasting an opportunity to taste you from the source.

Crawling down to face your cunt she was in awe, your gaping entrance spastically fluttered around nothing, she was smiling gratefully at the opportunity, with her heart now set on remedying your little problem. Lithe fingers swiped around your entrance, causing your body to squirm at the unexpected, but oh so satisfying touch. Wanda was pleased with the way your body responded, so she gave you what you wanted by pushing three of her fingers into your warm cunt. She pounded into you at a brutal pace, your walls having tried to hold her in a vice grip, her mouth had latched around your clit to add to the excess pleasure, and as if she’d intended to overwhelm your system, her other hand tugged on the chain.

Natasha fell into her orgasm head first, your sudden, and unwavering moaning sending nonstop waves of pleasure throughout her. Luscious, muscular thighs closed around your head, effectively cutting off your access to oxygen, but you were too overwhelmed by your own bodies trembling to even register the fact that you weren’t breathing anymore. Not that you’d even complain, it would be the hottest way to go, you were sure of it.

Wanda’s mouth was agape, your back arching, and trembling thighs had only caused her to increase her pace in hopes of helping you reach yet another peak, which is why her face, palm and fingers were now coated in your release. After a moment of sitting in her shock she felt a little concerned to see your body slump into the mattress, with her magic she yanked Nat off of you, and both women gasped at the sight.

“Holy shit Nat, please tell me she’s breathing.,” killing you was not on their agenda, and she sighed in relief when you gasped suddenly. There was no way to know if it was Nat’s thighs suffocating you, or the never ending orgasms that left you to be knocked out, but either way the couple were actually shocked, and worried. Their concerns settled with the rise and fall of your chest though, and that fucked out smile settled over your gorgeous, cum drenched face.

“We fucked her unconscious.,” Nat marvels, and Wanda joins her at your side to hear your breathing., “Mhm.,” the both of them laid kisses to your swollen lips before climbing off the bed to plan out how to take care of you in this unexpected state, and with a brief bout of eye contact, and an accomplished kiss they set off to do their parts.

Wanda left the room with the dirtied sheets, as well as a fresh set to add to the dryer to make sure the bed is as warm as possible for you. Then she headed off towards the kitchen on your shared floor to make a feast worthy of the appetite the lot of you built up, while Natasha carried your slumped form into the bathroom. She gently settled the both of you into the tub, smiling fondly as you settled into her hold even further in your deep sleep. She washed your hair before moving onto your exhausted body, being extra careful as she slid the loofah over your bruised hips, while also still admiring her handy work., “Such a beautiful thing you are.,” she cooed while finishing sudsing up your chest that was also covered in their many marks.

Wanda entered the bathroom just as Natasha was standing up, the lovers shared a soft kiss, and the witch helped the redhead get you out. They worked harmoniously to dress you in their clothes; Nat’s sweats, and Wanda’s cami. They then laid you against the fresh set of warmed up sheets, sighing dreamily at the sight of you so adorably laid out on their bed. Natasha settled her chin on Wanda’s shoulder, while her arms wrapped around her waist, and the little witch leaned into the familiar comfort.

“She’s all ours now Natty, our patience finally paid off.,” Natasha spun the witch around, and stared into her eyes, a vulnerability was ever present within them., “I love you Wands, and I love her too—so much.,” the brunette softly smiled at her lover, then leaned in to press a reassuring kiss to her lips., “I love you both so very much Natty.,” she cheered., “We did it.,” Natasha shook her head at her lovers antics., “Go freshen up lyubov’, I’ll finish the food.,” they shared a parting kiss, leaving you to rest while handling everything that was necessary.

Wanda straddled your waist after getting out and dressed, her hands cupped your cooled cheeks, and she simply stared at your calmed features for a brief moment before moving forward with waking you up., “Krasivaya, time to wake up.,” she whispered in your ear, then pressed her lips to your jaw softly, chuckling when you were squirming at the tickling touch.

Her lips slowly continued to travel up until she pressed them against your inviting lips., “Come on now detka, wake up.,” you whined weakly, trying to shift away with your eyes still tightly shut, but the sounds of your muddled thoughts told her this process of hers was working., “We’ve got fettuccine alfredo.,” she whispered, and within an instant your eyes were fluttering open, you were clearly a bit disoriented but with the mission of having pasta on your mind, your tummy expectantly rumbling, well it was clearly enough to motivate you to awaken.

“There she is.,” she cooed teasingly, watching as the remembrance of tonight’s events come crashing over your mind. A giggle left her when your eyes widened at the sight of her straddling you, as if your face hadn’t just been pressed against her pussy a little over an hour ago., “Wands, wh-what did this all mean?,” you softly croaked out, your hands now balled into fists at your side, and her once smiling face fell., “Oh detka.,” her hands unfurled yours, and linked them with hers instead, lifting them up to kiss your knuckles before leaving them over her chest so you could feel her heartbeat., “This meant everything to us, do you feel me?”

You nodded a bit sheepishly and she beamed., “This heart here, it beats for my girls only.,” the look of confusion in your eyes was amusing., “M-me? I’m your girl?,” she nodded., “Our.,” Natasha interjected into the soft moment, you turned to where the sound came from and saw her signature smirk, but what really caught your eye was the tray in her hand. Wanda shrieked as you abruptly sat up, but your hands wrapped around her to save her from falling.

Your breath hitched though as you saw just how close her face was to yours, the sight of her luscious pink lips enticed you, and in a mustered up moment of bravery you leaned in to kiss her. An air of innocence to contradict tonights earlier shenanigans was present as you moved your lips against hers, “Your girl.,” you repeated in a whisper against her lips, feeling as she smiled at your disbelieving tone.

“Our girl.,” Natasha corrected once more, using her hand to guide you away from the witch by the chin, and leaning in to kiss you a bit more harshly to convey the message more clearly., “Our perfect little one.,” she concluded as she pulled away from you, and Wanda was quick to readjust your bodies so that she was leaned against the headboard with your back to her.

“Open up.,” Natasha boomed with a forkful of pasta in her hands, to which you instantly did, moaning languidly as the creamy pasta brought you into another state of bliss., “Fuck, Wands that’s delicious.,” you said over the mouthful., “Swallow your food love, and what about me?,” the redhead pouted in your direction, and you giggled in response, bringing a warmth to both of their hearts., “We both know who made it.”

Wanda snorted as Natasha dropped the fork into the pan with a dramatic flare., “Yeah, well I carried the hot dish into here for your sake.,” you met her faux annoyance with a genuine smile., “I’m sorry Natty, I appreciate you too.,” the redhead groaned at your too cute for words nature, leaning in to kiss your lips., “Well aren’t you just the most adorable little thing.”

You attempted to shy away from her, taking compliments from the goddess’s had always been hard for you., “Detka, you’re gorgeous, if anyone’s a goddess here it’s you honey.,” you tried to hide behind your hands at being called out, but Natasha pulled them away instantly., “Hey, don’t hide from us detka, a beautiful lady such as yourself deserves to be marveled at.”

“We will remind you every day just how beautiful you are until you believe it detka.,” Wanda’s hands tenderly roam over your sides as she speaks so sweetly to you. Natasha moved the tray out of her lap so she could reach you better, her thumbs removed the tears pooling on your lower lashes, then her fingers tenderly traced the outline of your face., “Beautiful.,” a teasing smirk on her face as she booped your nose, and chuckled at your warming cheeks., “We love you Y/N/N.,” the soft confession wasn’t all that shocking to you after the shared night of passion, and it was somehow even easier for you to reciprocate., “I love you too.”

Wet kisses were simultaneously deposited on your cheeks, you giggled wildly at the sensation of your cheeks being permanently smooshed, their hearts fluttered in their chests at the sound of your genuine giddiness, the couple shared a final teary eyed stare at the reality of the situation; you were theirs, giggles and all.

———————

2K notes · View notes

harunayuuka2060 · 10 months

Text

Floyd: Goldfishie~ Let's go to the cuddle room together~.

Riddle: I'm not sharing a cuddle session with you, Floyd!

Azul: Unfortunately, there will be no cuddle sessions today and we are asked to go by groups to save time.

Azul: Oh. And I almost forgot.

Azul: How come you're outside today, Idia?

Idia: W-Well... Ortho insisted that I go.

Azul: Oh really?

Floyd: Come on now, Goldfishie~.

Riddle: I said, I'm not going with you!

Professor Crewel: *walking towards them, holding a puppy* You puppies, behave.

Azul: Hm? Have you adopted a new dog, Professor Crewel?

Professor Crewel: Yes. But he has been given to me by our professional cuddler.

Professor Crewel: And you'll be receiving one as well.

Azul, Idia, Riddle, and Floyd: Huh?

Professor Crewel: Oh. My bad. You're not be receiving puppies, but an animal of your choice.

Professor Crewel: Isn't that right, Mr. Sprinkles?

Mr. Sprinkles: Ruff! *wagging his tail*

Professor Crewel: I'll see you later in class, boys. *then walks away*

Riddle, Idia, Azul, and Floyd: ...

Floyd: Who wants to race to the cuddle room?

Idia: Sorry to say this, but I'll be the first one to get there. Mweehee~.

Floyd and Idia: *got first to the cuddle room*

Floyd: I'm here for my cuddle animal~!

Idia: Please! I want to have a cat!

MC: *chuckles* Calm down. Let's wait for Riddle and Azul to come here first.

Riddle and Azul: We're here!

Idia: You two are so slow.

Azul: Excuse me?! You started a race!

Riddle: And it didn't help us that other students were blocking our path.

Idia: Excuses.

Riddle and Azul: *getting mad at him*

MC: No fighting.

Riddle and Azul: *immediately calms down*

MC: Let's all get settled first while I prepare for your cuddle animals.

Floyd: Yay~! What's mine? Is it huge? Is it cute?

Idia: Is it fluffy?

MC: *chuckles* Please wait here while I get them.

MC: Here they are. *carrying four fluffy creatures all in round shape*

Riddle, Floyd, Azul, and Idia: ...

Floyd: *frowning a little* What is that?

MC: These are your cuddle animals.

Azul: I don't want to sound rude, but... All we could see are four, large cottonballs.

Idia: What a downer...

MC: *chuckles* Is it? Well, these cuddle animals will take form once touched by their owners. And once they have their own form, that will be their permanent appearance.

MC: Riddle? Would you mind trying it for yourself first?

Riddle: Me? Oh. Of course. *walks up to them*

MC: *hands Riddle one of the fluff balls*

Riddle: And what will I do here?

MC: A few seconds now.

Riddle: Huh?

Poof!

Riddle: *is now holding a bunny*

Riddle: ...

Riddle: It's so cute...

MC: Right? And since they're cuddle animals. Their main food is your aura. And if you're in a bad mood, they'll have your angry aura as their dessert.

Riddle: Oh... That's amazing.

Azul: Indeed. Though, are they all land animals?

MC: These cuddle animals will take form in every types of animals in the world. Even the mystical ones.

Idia: Speaking of mystical ones, didn't we just see Malleus hugging a small dragon?

Floyd: Yeah. So... If I want mine to be a sea serpent, that's also possible?

MC: Yes. If and only if, that's what your subconsciousness desire.

Idia: My subconsciousness wants a cat. I'm sure of that.

Azul: I'm excited to know mine.

The students: *all being happy with their cuddle animals*

Professor Trein: Look at them acting like little children.

Professor Trein: I wish I could have myself a cuddle animal, however, Lucius will sure be jealous.

MC: Lucius is already perfect for you, Professor Trein.

Professor Trein: Indeed he is.

Professor Trein: Though I've been meaning to ask. What made you to decide to give students such adorable companions?

MC: Well, I've noticed that not all students could go to the cuddle room. That's why I've decided to extend the service that I offer.

Professor Trein: You're so kind.

MC: *chuckles, then looking at the students* *smiles* Not at all, sir. I'm only just doing my job.

Professor Trein: *smiles* Of course.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst riddle #twst idia #twst azul #twst floyd #twst crewel #twst trein #twst professional cuddler!mc

761 notes · View notes

fatuifvcker · 1 year

Note

dottore receiving a handjob and getting edged. he's an absolute wreck, never having been at anyones mercy like that, but now he's making all these desperate whiny noises he's so embarrassed of that if he could poof out of existence - he would, but it also feels so good when he thinks he's about to cum </3 but really he isn't, not for now at least. he'd definitely contemplate wiping your memory off of this event because it's so unbearably embarrassing to him, poor guy

i think about him.

AAAH My first request thank you! I hope you enjoy this short but spicy little fic!!

A/N: Reader is gender neutral! This is my first time writing Dottore ever, and also first time positng my Genshin writing so I hope you enjoy! My requests are open for anyone curious!

Word count: 0.5k

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Handjob, dottore's hands are bound, slight/brief thigh riding (let me know if anything else needs to be tagged)!

Soft, desperate whimpers filled Dottore’s chambers. Normally they were your whimpers and whines, but this time they were his.

His hips bucked upwards in your hand and you clicked your tongue at him. “Not yet,” Your voice was soft and reassuring. Giving him hope that he would soon find release. That wasn’t completely true.

Dottore was putty in your hands. You had bound his hands behind him and he was sitting on the edge of his bed. You were completely clothed and he was beneath you, naked. Dottore sat with his legs spread and you sat on one of his knees, facing him. Your hand was wrapped around his cock and your lips were pressed against his collarbone, forming a smile.

You moved, looking up at him with innocent eyes. “What’s wrong, dear?” Dottore scowled at you as you moved your hand away from his aching cock. He was twitching and panting. “Use your words,” You hit him with what he had always told you.

His red eyes hit your eyes and his teeth were bared. “When this is over-”

You pressed your lips to his neck and wrapped your hand around his dick once more. Dottore gasped and his hips rolled again. You grinded against his thigh briefly and Dottore struggled against the bindings briefly.

“You aren’t getting out of those, not until I say so, my love~”

Dottore exhaled shakily and accepted his fate. You continued to work on him. He would get close, so close to coming and you were quick to edge him out further. Your pace would slow, sometimes stopping completely.

Dottore was red, from embarrassment and heat. He had never once let you try anything like this. After having a bad day, he had said he’d help you anyway he could, and helping you he was… At the expense of feeling too vulnerable.

“We can stop any time, love…” You trailed kisses down to his bare chest and pulled back looking at him.

“No.” He grunted at you. “But I can’t promise you’ll remember this later…”

“Baby…” You frowned at him. “I think you’re forgetting who’s in control right now.”

Dottore inhaled sharply and you smirked at him. You began to nip and suck on the soft flesh of his neck and your hand slipped from his cock and to his balls. Dottore let out a soft whimper and you involuntarily grinded into his thigh again.

Your face was becoming warmer and you were struggling to not fuck him then and there. But you really were curious how much he could take. He would constantly test you, why not test him?

When your hand brushed against his cock and he let out another desperate noise, you muffled a soft laugh against his skin.

Dottore jerked one more time, one final time. You heard the bondage break and your eyes widened. With one swift motion, you were lying on the bed, Dottore on top of you. His eyes were full of lust and something primal.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” He laughed down at you. “You’ve had your fun… Now, why don’t we put your smart mouth to good use? Hm?”

#il dottore #dottore #dottore genshin #dottore x reader #dottore smut #fatui harbingers #fatui #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #genshin impact #genshin smut

635 notes · View notes

dontmixpaintinyourcoffee · 1 year

Text

EAH was one of my very favorite cartoons as a kid, and I've been enjoying it's renaissance very much, so REDESIGNS!!! (I've done a bunch over a couple months and put them on Instagram, but I figured I'd move them here cause Instagram sucks, so if you've seen them before over there that's why)

I think the original designs are aesthetically pleasing, but they're not super practical for the characters- case in point! Gay icon Darling Charming

I'm gonna put all my design notes under the cut so if you don't care about that carry on, have a nice day

Darlings original design is fun, but it doesn't serve an obvious purpose, at least not that I can see. She clearly wears armor on the outside of her outfit, the Marie Antoinette poof is a bit strange to me, and she has very little visually tying her to Dexter and Daring. I wanted to emphasize her secrecy, but also her passion for puzzle solving, riddles, combat tactics, ect. when she's around the people she trusts (as if the queer metaphor wasn't obvious enough)

Here are some details that just make me happy

-First, the hair. I knew I wanted to give the White Knight a more unique look, and I wanted to simplify it overall. I LOVE the original armor, but it would be a huge pain to animate, and I don't have the patience for that, so I went for a masquerade-ball-three-musketeers-vibe. The braided bun is still a fancy, regal style, but it's a lot easier for her to manage in her uniform

-I tried to synthesize the color schemes of the Charming siblings. They all have a pit of yellow, a bit of pinkish red, a bit of blue. The twins lean heavy into yellow and blue, with splashes of red where thematically appropriate. Darling doesn't really communicate with Daring much, so she has the least amount of red. I think having more muted colors in comparison to her brothers also emphasizes the fact that she's hiding herself. She is very much defying her family with her ambitions, and she has to work hard to keep it under wraps. Sort of related, I gave her a tooth gap, because it's a cute design detail, but also to act as a "flaw" to contrast with Daring. Daring's primary physical trait is his ungodly perfect teeth, so I thought it'd be fun to give her an "imperfect" trait, like Dexter and his glasses. There's nothing actually wrong with them, but it's a failure to reach the insane expectations that the Charming family has cultivated over the generations. Basically the Charmings are petty and I feel bad for the youngest generation.

-Speaking of concealment! There are a couple bits that I thought would be fun to hide throughout her outfit. First, the skirt is flowy enough and the shirt is positioned just right so that you can't tell, but she has pieces of leather armor on at all times. She saves the plates for wonderland. She also wears gloves to hide the callouses on her fingers from swordfighting! She also probably keeps knives in her hair somewhere. Pulling a small switchblade out of the base of her bun just seems like something she would do

-Final thing, I gave her a scar! From what I can tell, she's always been very rough-and-tumble, so I gave her a scar over her brow. She likes to pretend it's from a Mysterious Incident to mess with her friends, but really she was wrestling Daring when they were like, 4 and 6, and she bonked her face into a table. She got over it real fast, but Daring got a long lecture about it, and that's when he started getting over-protective about her

#eah headcanons #eah #ever after high #ever after high art #eah fanart #darling charming #eah redesign #coffeepaintart #yes I have thought about this cartoon for children designed to sell dolls from almost a decade ago for far too long why do you ask

802 notes · View notes

knine-nights-loves-ac · 11 days

Text

This started as an ask I was gonna send to @teecupangel but then it got like seven paragraphs long and I decided fuck it I’m just gonna make it a post and @ teecup. So here goes!

Another Pokémon!Desmond idea (ps: this got long, tldr; shiny Goomy uncatchable Des)

So to set the stage, AC universe happens as normal but, in the AC universe, pokemon as a franchise doesn’t exist. Just not a thing at all. So, starting off Desmond (who doesn’t know what Pokémon is) dies because of the Eye and poofs into a new universe as he does every other Tuesday.

Now, flash to a Pokémon region. I’m biased so I’ll say Kalos. But most work. Desmond appears on one of the earlier routes as a shiny Pokémon. Because I’m still biased, let’s say a shiny Goomy even though Goomies shouldn’t spawn there.

Desmond, newly goopified, doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. He’s a glob now. And the animals around him are fucking weird. And seemingly only live in the tall grass.

He can’t figure out how to use any of his “moves” outside of basically tackle and scratch and other similarly basic things. So he’s pretty dam weak, probably relatively low level, only thing he has going for him is that he’s fast and, relatively, smart. He’s still got human level intelligence which is enough to outsmart the vast majority of Pokémon.

He spends some time on this route, getting used to things, using his Eagle Vision (which he still has) to find berries, avoiding fights, and just enjoying his forced retirement to another universe. It’s Desmond, unless properly motivated, I think he’d be willing to settle in and chill.

But uh oh, trouble is afoot. In the form of! A CHILD no

This little kid toddles down the path with a belt full of pokeballs. Desmond, who is still new to this world, sees the kid and decides to approach. Why? Idk man, the brain cell got burned by the Eye.

The kid is like “OH MY GOD SHINY GOOMY!” And immediately initiates a Pokémon battle.

How does this feel to Desmond? Im not sure. But he definitely can tell somethings up when the kid starts screaming in another language, sounds like French? (If you get why, you get a cookie), and throws a ball that somehow summons another creature. Let’s say a Caterpie.

The Caterpie is low level, about as intelligent as a real caterpillar, and big. (Fun fact apparently Goomy and Caterpie are the same height). Now Desmond is concerned, especially when the kid yells a command and the huge ass bug attacks him. Caterpie only knows like three moves so it probably just tackles. Desmond, not being an idiot or actually a real Pokémon, dodges. The kid looks surprised but yells again and the Caterpie attacks again. After a few times, Desmond decides “Fuck this shit, I’m out.” and nopes on out of there. The kid is absolutely shocked that the shiny Goomy just ran from the battle and also that it dodged everything.

Desmond meanwhile, hidden now, checks on the kid and sees that they’re blue in Eagle Vision. He’s not sure whether to be surprised or not. On the one hand, he’s never seen a kid that was red, but on the other hand, this kid attacked him.

He metaphorically shrugs it off and continues foraging for berries, he’s trying out new combinations.

Meanwhile, this child runs back to wherever they came from, and eagerly spreads the news about the wild shiny Goomy they saw. Most people don’t believe them, but a couple other kids are curious enough to go looking later.

Another day begins and Desmond stumbles upon a group of kids this time. The original kid among them. They’re speaking quickly, yeah he’s pretty sure it’s French, too bad that’s one of the languages he barely gets (I don’t care if he’d know some via Ezio, he’d know 15th century French, not modern day Pokémon world French). They’re gesturing wildly and some of them are looking accusatorially at the original kid. Desmond tries to get a little closer and, just his luck, stumbles into view of the group. Uh oh.

Several minutes later, the kids are confused as hell, several Caterpies are furiously working their hamster wheel brains to understand what’s happening, and Desmond is starting to question what’s up with the people in this universe.

But something special happened this time. At one point, one of the kids threw a red and white ball at him. It bounced off his head and rolled on the ground, doing nothing. Desmond was just annoyed. The kids were flabbergasted.

Rumors spread until actual researchers are tramping through the tall grass. Desmond is definitely avoiding them. Even if they’re white in Eagle Vision, those lab coats remind him a bit too much of Abstergo.

Eventually, after the human presence becomes a bit too much, Desmond decides to hit the road and moves out from his comfy little tall grass patch in the middle of the night. He settles down again somewhere else.

Repeat cycle a few times until the whole of Kalos has heard tell of this shiny Goomy who nobody can catch and seems to roam the whole region.

Idk what’s happening from there. Begin plot of Pokémon X/Y? Maybe Desmond meets AZ? Lots of options but idk.

#assassin's creed #assassins creed #desmond miles #desmond miles ac #assassin’s creed #pokemon #pokémon xy #kalos #kalos region #pokemon kalos #Goomy #pokemon goomy #shiny goomy

35 notes · View notes

haphazardlyannotated · 1 year

Text

Steven Universe Weapons Graded by Practicality in Actual Combat

Garnet:

There's a reason gauntlets aren't a standard weapon of warfare, and that reason is range. If you want to hit someone with your gauntlets, you have to let them get pretty close. Which might easily be closer than they even need to get to hit you, if their weapon gives them any range at all. Just remember how Jasper got Garnet with the Gem Destabiliser in The Return before Garnet had a chance to get a hit in.

That being said, Garnet's gauntlets have two points in their favour that I wanted to talk about: 1.) They protect her gems, which would otherwise be extremely vulnerable. When in combat, you'll all but certainly have to use your hands to attack, deflect or even just catch yourself when you fall. Garnet's gems would be at a constant risk of cracking without her gauntlets. And 2.) Garnet's gauntlets can be launched like rockets, which at least partially negates the range problem.

Overall assessment: 5/10, saved by the special features

Amethyst:

Like gauntlets, real life whips don't fare too well as implements of war. Unless you can get it around your enemy's neck, the best thing you can hope for is that you'll be able to hit them hard enough to make them drop their weapons. Also, it would be pretty difficult not to hit your allies with it by accident.

However, the way Amethyst's whip works negates all of these problems. Not only can Amethyst get her whip wrapped around her enemy and then squeeze them until they poof, she is also strong enough to either slam a wrapped up enemy into the floor or walls hard enough to take them out, we see her grab a boulder several times her size and use it as a flail in Steven vs Amethyst. Her weapon also has the additional perk of being useful to restrain an enemy, and just as a little cherry on top, can apparently also produce electric(?) shocks.

Overall a ridiculously good weapon, easy 10/10.

Pearl:

Spear: Spears are (well, were) the most commonly used real life weapon for a reason. They can be used both one- and two handed, both to stab at mid range and to throw at long range, and Pearl's seems to be suitable to all four. She also uses it to slash at her opponents like a glaive, and can shoot energy balls(?). However, Amethyst's whip is still more versatile, so I'm going to rate Pearl's spear 9/10.

Trident: I'm sorry, Bismuth, but the two extra stabs per attack aren't worth losing the slashing and making the throws more difficult in my eyes. 7/10, one point deduced for each.

Swords: Also popular for a reason. I don't think I need to explain why swords are good, so I'm just going to say that since Pearl's swords don't have any magical properties, I'm going to give them a simple 7/10 and move on.

Steven:

A real life shield is not really a weapon, but we've seen Steven's shield be thrown like a boomerang, and it seems to be pretty effective. That being said, this attack is at the very least much more difficult in mêlée, by which I mean if you're holding something off with it, you have to wait and pray that someone else will help you out, because you're not getting off any attacks now.

4/10 with the caveat that I'm unsure if this should have been rated here in the first place.

Connie:

We already did swords. 7/10.

Peridot:

Limb Enhancers: They're not solely weapons, but they have weapon functions, so I decided they count. Mainly, I think her blaster should be rated 8/10, as it seems to be much more destructive than Pearl's energy balls, but can only be used to either directly hurt your opponent, or collapse structures on them.

Metal Spike: Well, it worked, I guess? In all seriousness, if she got good at impaling people with it, that'd be a 7/10 for a regular spear equivalent.

Soda Cans: Look, Peri, if you were going to throw human metal objects, you should have picked the cars. 1/10 for comic relief.

Lapis:

I'm pretty sure "The Ocean" doesn't generally count as a weapon, but if it did, it'd be a 1000/10. There's a reason Lapis had to be kept away from the main plot.

Bismuth:

I don't know how to evaluate the shapeshift weapons, but the Breaking Point has hilariously low ratings. It's very short range, can not be used to block or parry, and needs to hit one exact tiny bullseye on a moving target. 2/10, and we don't even need to debate the ethics of war.

Jasper:

Helmet: Congratulations, we've found a weapon that requires you to get even closer to the target than gauntlets! In all seriousness, Jasper's helmet is a very impractical weapon. Not only does it have a small range, Jasper also has to lower her head and thus limit her field of vision when attacking. It does protect her gem, but not as well as Garnet's gauntlets protect hers, seeing how the visor thing is broken in Jailbreak, but Garnet's gauntlets never have been.

0/10, I honestly believe she'd be better off fighting with her bare hands

Destabilizer: This basically comes down to how many times you can use one of those. If it's unlimited, your opponents' only chance is to fire at you from a distance, and I'd rate it 11/10. If it's a one or two uses and then you need to recharge or get a new one, it's still an 8/10, but you'll want to have another weapon on hand.

Opal:

Opals bow is ridiculously good. It can hit a bazillion targets at a time and auto bubble them! And it satisfies my inherent bias for long distance weapons! What more could you want? Basically, Opal took a bow, which is already a great weapon, and then buffed it by a thousand.

12/10, the real reason we see so little of Opal is that she's too powerful.

Sugilite:

Flails were pretty rare weapons historically, probably because a weapon that will hit either you or your ally like a cartoon boomerang if you miss is too much of a liability. Also, momentum makes swinging it slower than everything we've seen before. Overall, I agree with the historical judgment. 3/10.

Sardonyx:

War hammers are much better documented as historical weapons than flails, and much more effective than I initially assumed. Apparently they were useful because they can knock you out through a metal helmet. If Sardonyx' hammer had a pointy end instead of two flat ones, it could also be used for grappling, but as it is, I'm afraid the lack of versatility will keep the score at 6/10.

Smoky Quartz:

I can't reasonably use real life yoyos as a comparison for Smoky's yoyo, so I'll treat it like a more controlled flail: A weapon that can hit around obstacles up to the longer end of mid distance and be recalled easily. Also, it can grapple and create tornadoes. Overall, it's to Sugilite's flail what Amethyst's whip is to, well, real life whips.

10/10 weapon, no notes

Rainbow 2.0

We never see Rainbow fight with their umbrella, but we do see him use some sort of telekinesis with it. If we assume that the umbrella can be used to stab an opponent (if it can't, I don't think it can be classified as a weapon), I'd give it a reluctant 4/10, since it's still not very good at taking anyone out, but the telekinesis could be pretty useful defensively.

Sunstone:

I have no earthly, or indeed alien idea as to how one would go about fighting with suction cups. I'll grade this one not applicable.

Obsidian:

All the advantages of a regular sword, but it can also easily cut through metal, and, if the lava is to be taken seriously, stone, so it can also be used to dismantle your enemies' fortifications. 10/10

Ruby:

Basically the same points as Garnet's gauntlets, except she's more limited due to having even shorter range and only one gauntlet. We don't have proof as to whether she can launch hers, but I decided to assume she can, on the basis that it has to originate somewhere.

3/10

Rose and Stevonnie:

I'm going to guess that the sword and shield combo is probably better than just a sword, and definitely better than just a shield, but I don't want to give it a 10/10, because it can't compare to the versatility of my other 10/10s, so I'll give it an 8/10 and call it good.

Eyeball:

A handheld knife strikes the lowest step on the weapons ladder. It heavily skews the odds in your favour if your opponent is unarmed, but doesn't have the range or damage output to do much against anything on this list(except Peridot's soda cans, and technically Jasper's helmet, but 1.) Jasper could beat Eyeball barehanded and 2.) Eyeball would never attack Jasper).

2/10

Topaz:

A fairly common weapon for a while, but it can't do anything other than smash things. I'll give it the same rating as Sardonyx' war hammer for the same reasons. 6/10.

Aquamarine:

Look, I know it's kind of a grey area whether this counts as a weapon, but that little staff was scary. It can freeze any number of opponents? Of seemingly any power level? With no apparent time limit? 20/10, how are you supposed to fight this?

Bluebird:

A cutlass is a sword. 7/10. 9/10 if I count the barrage of ice cutlasses. Very good weapons, it's just that Steven and Alexandrite are vastly more powerful, so the quality of her weapon didn't end up mattering.

232 notes · View notes

aconflagrationofmyown · 7 months

Text

A Whole Man is Hard to Find -chapter seventeen

-Summary: Rosey conducts a series of interviews with those who know the Captain intimately but through wildly differing association, a prostitute, his quartermaster and his doctor. Meanwhile above decks Captain Presley deflowers a new river with the support of Johnny Cash. Both lovers live for the few moments they can steal at the end of the day to savor each other.

-Warnings 18+: usual universe warnings apply with this addition of caning, mentions of past female rape, past murder and talk of Syphilis and the use of the archaic word “sodomy”. Along with current smut, which mostly includes gratuitous descriptions of sweat, sweaty balls, men being very hot when they’re sweaty so long as they’re Elvis and -it’s a lot of sweat porn ok?!

“Beaumont.” Aida acknowledged from her place on the floor, arm deep in the Captain’s personal trunks.

“Overton.” Rosey snickered at the stand off, keeping her pistol raised all the same. “What’re you in here for?” she repeated.

“So the captain didn’t send you back after all.” Aida ignored her, “My, my, isn’t he gettin’ brave now, defyin’ the colonel every which way.”

The power of her sneer nearly swayed Rosey. “A change of plans,” she diverted, “the Captain can do that.”

“Oh can he?”

“Yes.”

“That's new. He never could before.”

“He’s not beholden to his partner.” Rosey took aims to measure her language lest she commit an indiscretion, “They are, after all, just partners. Equals, there was a change of plans, that’s all.”

“Equals.” Aida savored the word as she rose to her feet before letting out a grating cackle that made Rosey flinch, “I’ll give ya credit for your ignorance, child, s’not like you’ve seen what I’ve seen.”

“No, no I suppose that I haven't seen what you’ve seen.” Rosey conceded, her voice dripping with disdainful accusation.

“No, how could you?” Aida hemmed her in against the door and Rosey felt torn between shoving this witch off or making an ally of someone who knew him so well, “Word on the boat is you’ve been kept quite remote on that little plantation, and sure, sure, he’s tidied himself up real nice for you, hasn’t he? How would you know what kind of man he is?”

The urge was strong to spit back in Aida’s face the proof that she had known him longer than she, that Rosey had ridden atop his young shoulders in peacetime and held him nowadays aboard while he cried his memories out. She wanted to protest that she knew him well. But those were not things due to Aida, the Captain had been upset she’d even seen them in the bath together, how much more would he object to their history being exposed. And besides, these were things to prove Rosey knew him, but Aida was right, she knew precious little *of* him. “I know the kind of man he is with me, and he’s a good man.” she murmured instead.

“Is he?” Aida wasn't sneering, she looked intrigued and Rosey’s heart thudded in fear of a misstep. Vaguely she recalled Elvis having told her in their early days that he had a reputation to maintain, to keep folks in line. Being a feared man didn’t deter him from tossing gifts into the crowd or holding babies or patronizing school charities. Rosey figured that admitting he was good to her could hardly damage his reputation. But the way Aida’s maimed eyes kept searching hers made her frightened of betraying him.

“Incredible the lengths men’ll go to for virgin cunt.” the woman declared at last and Rosey flinched at the language. “What’ll it last ‘em? A minute? Fifteen if he’s got willpower? And then poof, done, gone, you’re just like anyone else to him, after he’s done.”

“What were you snooping for?” Rosey didn’t dignify this sad prophecy with an answer.

“Oh, just some things-“

“Of yours?” Rosey snapped, the weight of her still clutched pistol reminding her of her worth and her dearness to him.

“You could say I have a stake in them.” she shrugged.

“What do you mean by that?” Rosey pressed her scornfully.

“You seen any photographs laying about? Or buried under all them books he hauls?” Aida asked her and while Rosey contemplated how to play her hand when she’d not only never seen photographs aboard or even imagined he’d possessed some, Aida went on while turning back to the trunks, “Id’have thought he’d make certain to have at least something in his arsenal if he’s gonna be a brat. ‘Stead it looks like his partner has everything required to sink him and Elvis hasn’t got anything but a stuck up girl-child to defend himself with.”

“Why would the colonel sink his own partner?” Rosey maintained, choosing to leave her place by the door and take a seat on the bed, sheets still thrashed and unmade from his devouring a few hours before. Her legs clenched at the memory.

“You’re good.” Aida proclaimed and some stupid and starved part of a Rosey actually preened at being praised by such a hardened individual. “You’re real good. What’s your deal with the Colonel?”

“I haven’t anything against the man, he’s just tiring.” Rosey insisted.

“No, I mean, what did he offer you to come along?”

Rosey pondered this line of questioning with a perturbed heart, realizing she either had a chance to spin a lie here or else get caught in one. “Who says we’ve got any deal?”

“Do I need to name your predecessors for you?” Aida asked, sitting back down on the floor with shameless confidence in the Captain’s prolonged absence, “Let’s see, of course there was Aida first,” she chuckled that harsh chuckle of hers at this self narration, “and then there was a Polly and a Tamara and we can’t forget the pretty, pristine Lucilla who had him turnin’ himself inside out to please her, all for not, all of them unable or unwilling to stay when the colonel yanked his chain. All of them reportin’ dutifully to the colonel on his wakings and his habits. And those ones were just the ones he made promises to, that promised him back. There was Etta, though she lasted all of a sneeze ‘cause the colonel was against her.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re his spurned lover?” Rosey asked, amused.

“Ha,” the woman shook her head, “there ever been a woman spy who hadn’t had to play lover?”

“You’re a trash spy.” Rosey found it in herself to jest, “Look at your work,” she gestured to the clutter on the floor, “and halfway in you just spill it out that you’re a spy? Aida, I had some hopes you hated me but I trusted you didn’t think me a fool.”

“Didn’t say I am.” Aida smiled that awful smile of hers, wider than ever this time and Rosey noticed her gums were shiny and silver. “Said I was.”

Rosey kicked her leg out boredly and hummed. “During the war?” she ventured.

“Mm..” Aida just shrugged. “He really not paying you anything?”

“I’m not acquainted with the colonel.” Rosey summarized, “I’m here at the Captain's disposal, he’s the one who pays my wages. And you knew that already.”

“Lord girl.” Aida rose to her knees and began repacking the half emptied trunks, “Whatever it is you’ve done back home, won’t be worth sticking round here to escape. Trust me, they’ll string you up alongside us all if not worse. The world out there’s got a particular distaste for whores, they’d look kinder on a murderer.”

Rosey didn’t protest either title. “Leave the stuff be,” she commanded “with the way you’re cramming it back in -he’ll know someone’s been going through it. Trash spy, you are.”

“Mm, alright.” Aida dropped the books she held back to the floor. “Weird feller he is, to keep this but no photograph apparatus. Colonel must have it.”

“What on earth is that?” Rosey asked her, pointing to that something on the floor that looked akin to an oversized musicbox and had as its extension a wand at the end.

“A hysteria treatment.”

“Hysteria?” Rosey savored the word carefully, only having heard of it from books.

“Yeah, real handy for the uptight ones,” Aida leared accusingly at Rosey’s prim pose, “the ones so proper they’re liable to get strangled with their own collars.”

“How does it work?” Rosey ignored the barb, soothed by red hot memories of indulging the captain in ways that could never be dismissed as prudish.

“It vibrates.” Aida picked the thing up by its box and plopped it in Rosey’s lap. “Crank it.” she goaded as Rosey fumbled with her new burden and carefully began to turn the lever. It was a steam mechanism of sorts, that was obvious from the hissing sound alone and the way the wand’s

outer skin began to pick up in rotational spins, powered by the cord tethering the two women to each other. When she was satisfied as to its pace, Aida took the wand and held it to Rosey’s exposed shin and the girl felt her whole leg rattle from it.

“Hellfire!” Rosey snatched her tingling limb up and away from the device after a moment's indulgence.

Aida laughed at her again. “Husbands pay him a lotta money to hold this to their wife's frigid cunts.” she explained, discarding the wand on the scattered heap of books and neck clothes as she rose to her feet, “And plenty of women risk divorce just to feel it again. Reckon it turns ‘em hysterical, ‘stead of the other way ‘round.”**

Rosey thought of the bathtub -their first tryst- and colored, a grimace forming as that sweet memory became tainted with the knowledge that everything the Captain did with her had been done by him to multitudes before her. As transactions, no less.

“Don’t pity him, girl.” Aida warned, “That money keeps him soft and happier than most, and it keeps you spoiled and fed.”

“I only pity those who do it without alternative.” she muttered. “Captain Presley’s put that behind him.”

“Ha, right behind him. So close behind him it’ll snag him by the britches before the year is out.” Aida shook her head, “You’re a foolish idiot talkin’ him into a rebellion.”

“It’s no rebellion when it’s between partners.” Rosey sneered.

“I keep forgettin’ the whole ‘equals’ part.” Aida admitted with mock regret before continuing, “Bit hard to do if you’d seen what I’ve seen. If you’d seen one of those equals let the other cane his bare backside like a green school boy over a tiny defiance. Equals my ass. How much trouble have you gotten him in that he’d risk this much?”

Aida had approached Rosey during this sickening divulgence and Rosey fast felt her power in the situation escaping her but was too rattled by it to wrestle back her rightful dominance.

“I suppose you’re real proud of yourself for standing by during such an event.” Rosey managed to spit while shrinking against the wall. Her hands began to sweat, she tossed the hysteria box off her lap and gripped the sheets beside her to dry them, feeling for her discarded pistol “And for a man who gave you so much. You’re not even mad for him.”

“An event? It was a weekly pastime some years, that cane saw more of him than it did the pavement.” Aida puzzled, “He’s really told ya nothin’, has he?” that revelation brought Aida more amusement than Rosey could ever imagine so hideous a face could express while Rosey felt sick at the idea of how much harm one stupid piece of wood could inflict, “Are you sorry for the dog that’s made to do a party trick before it gets a bone, Miss Beaumont? Do you give a dog a bone when he refuses? Mad for him, hmph.”

“Why’re you telling me all this.” Rosey asked, shame and anger battling inside her.

“Stop that.” Aida ordered and shortly after Rosey felt a sting to her cheek as she was slapped. Too stunned to respond in kind she sat there with a gaping mouth as Aida inspected her reaction.

“Stop what?” she hissed, palm to her her tingling cheek.

“Actin’ like you ain’t starved for details.” Aida smirked, “Clever girl like you, must’ve found Miss Etta most boring -so much talk, so much talk, so little history actually said. You’re downright panting to snoop yourself, don’t deny it.”

“I-I-I’m not!” Rosey defended, “I’m not denying.” she amended.

“Prove it.” Aida smirked.

Rosey knew this was a test that a normal child would have passed years ago, school bullies or debutante rivals would have buffeted her so that a manic, washed up prostitute’s goading would have little effect. But Rosey was no normal child, sheltered and so little buffeted in the gentler forms of cruelty, she knew only the hard scrabble, hard edged tests of life. With a sinking feel of doing wrong yet a pulse quickening excitement for daring it anyway, she looked about the room for a prompt. Her eyes fell to the bindings the Captain had used on her bosoms, and beneath it the masculine costume Aida herself had loaned her.

And she recalled his blush.

“When you loaned us that garb,” she began and no matter how hard she tried to be brazen she couldn’t manage more than a hushed whisper, “you mentioned…equipment. You asked if he wanted the ‘equipment’ with it.” She looked up to find that Aida was holding her peace, more restrained than Rosey had ever seen her and far from being comforting it made her feel like she was about to be sprung upon by prey. “I want to know what that was. What you meant. What you use it for.”

-‘Depraved things’ -the captain had called them sternly, but he’d stuttered and hardened all the same at the mere suggestion of them.

“How did he respond when he saw you in ‘em?” Aida pried and Rosey thought maybe she’d misjudged her, and she was merely a lonely gossip shut up in this dark hold for too long. Rosey caught a glimpse of herself in the future. “Did he find you arousing?”

Rosey wasn’t about to divulge that but the rosy blush that earned her his nickname was quick to answer for her. “What’s the equipment?”

“A wooden cock.” Aida replied with commendable bluntness.

Rosey hadn’t even contemplated the existence of such a thing. Her marveling face must’ve said so.

“Attached in the common place on the wearer with a harness.” Aida was eager to share and Rosey felt unsettled again at the knowledge that cruelty and degeneracy were the only two subjects that seemed to bring the woman joy. “Plenty a’men like bein’ with men that way but there’s those that like a woman to take ‘em thataways, too.”

“So they-“ Rosey couldn’t help herself, the curiosity too burning to be tamped down, “-they…suck on it?”

Much to her surprise, Aida looked a little puzzled herself for a brief moment before replying, “Well, no, not usually. They pay me to fuck ‘em.”

“In the mouth?“ Rosey persisted, annoyed at the splitting of hairs between taking and being taken orally.

“No, in the ass!” Aida was equally annoyed until she realized by watching Rosey’s bewildered expression that the girl wasn’t playing dumb.

“How does…how does anything fit up there?” she balked, certain Aida was having a laugh at her expense. From the stigma of sucking a man that she had learned from youth, she naturally assumed it was because it was associated with acts performed by sodomites and was the one way men could pleasure each other without a cunt. “How large is this wooden -object?”

“Girl,” Aida smirked, “we’re talkin’ cock, wooden and otherwise, goin’ up the back way. A throat ain’t got nothin’ on the squeeze of a tight ass.”

An array of emotions and wonderments hit Rosey all at once, converging in her mind to fill her with that tantalizing tingle of newly acquired knowledge mixed with a substantial amount of shock and concern over the likelihood of the Captain having engaged in this activity. Which further exacerbated her curiosity as to why he would find the mere suggestion of a renewal of that type of indulgence arousing. “Does that not hurt?” she asked.

“Like hell if you ain’t prepped right.” Aida’s graying tongue flicked at her lips and Rosey felt a pang of dread in her stomach.

“How does one prepare for that?”

“Stretchin’ the rim out.” she shrugged, “All my clients pay for that -after all, if they’ve got time and money to pay a woman to bugger them, you can count on it that they’re much too delicate to take it raw.”

“But if you’re just, out and-“ Rosey bit her lip to try to find a kinder word but it was ugly business no matter how one put it, “if one was out hawking oneself?”

“Beaumont,” Aida lifted a tattooed brow at her transparency, “you can count on it that the Captain done felt like his insides were getting scraped raw most times. Ain’t no oil in a back alley or bent over a barrel, but sometimes, sometimes it must’ve been good. He’s got a lingering taste for it, or maybe he just likes pain.”

“You’ve done this, for him?” Rosey asked dismally and wished she hadn’t even before it rolled off her tongue.

To her surprise Aida answered, “No. reckon he took enough real cock to keep him staggerin’ well into the weekday most times.”

“But not anymore.” Rosey noted once more while raising her chin, and as if noticing her shift in mood, Aida began to retreat towards the door.

“No, not anymore.” she agreed before spitting out, “Gone a whole year without sellin’ ass and he already misses it. Some folks are born whores.”

“Say that of him again and I’ll blow your brains out.” Rosey promised, and by then she had retrieved her pistol.

“Keep your eye out for those photographs.” Aida responded tersely, making as if to go.

“You’ve a claim to them?” Rosey leant forward in the cot, persisting in pressing the issue.

“Mm, yeah, I do.” Aida eyed the pistol warily.

“What- what kind of photographs am I to be looking for?” Rosey asked, exasperated and curious only for her own sake. And his. “If he had such an apparatus there could be all manner of prints! And I’ve heard with the mechanism that some may be undeveloped-“

“These are developed.” Aida laid her hand in the door knob, “Older, too, you’ll tell by the style.”

“I’ve never seen one in the flesh! How am I to discern style?” Rosey protested. “What kind am I looking for?”

Aida stared hard at her before her mouth twisted, “Oh, you’ll know what kind when you see them, Beaumont.”

Rosey’s hands had turned from clammy to frozen in her attempt to disguise her panicked breathing. “Beyond the photographs, what is it you want?”

Aida stood by the door of the small room and swayed, side to side like a considering crow and Rosey gave her all the time she needed.

“I know you wanted me to catch you.” She insisted gently.

“Hmph.” Aida grunted, contemplating a confession it seemed, or else another mode of attack. Rosey would never know.

A knock rang out from the other side of the door and Aida’s hand flew to her own mouth, signaling with a finger to the lips for Rosey to be silent. To play that the room was empty. Rosey wouldn’t be caught abetting a woman as displeasing to the Captain as Aida and chose to ignore her.

“Enter!” Rosey answered instead, clear and assertive.

Aida was forced to move back from the opening door as the formidable bulk of Sister Rosetta entered, looking first at Aida and then down to the spilled trunks, then up and across to Rosey on her rumpled cot.

“Miss Beaumont,” ever the stickler for etiquette, Rosetta ignored the intruder for the time being and addressed herself to the one she was seeking, who also happened to be the lady of the boat, “Dr. Nicholas informed me that yesterday you charged him with a meeting this afternoon to review…certain questions you had?”

“Oh, yes, yes I did.” Rosey recalled her fiery stipulations for allowing the doctor to stay aboard. She didn’t miss the way Aida watched this interaction with avid interest.

“He’s asking a time, ma’am.” Sister Rosetta prodded, she was being awfully respectful and Rosey wondered if the woman knew of her recent marriage or was merely setting an example for Aida. Either way, Rosey appreciated it.

“How about, a umm, an hour from now?” Rosey calculated, “We ought to be on our way by then, and the more nauseating swells should have subsided. Nothing like going over numbers when the boat’s rocking.”

“I’ll see to it he’s conscious by then.” Rosetta replied with deferential irony and Rosey filed that remark away for later. “Exactly what are you doing in here, Overton?” she asked the old prostitute next.

“I was returning her clothes to her.” Rosey spoke up and Rosetta, in line with her newly found deference for Rosey Presley, accepted this fib with narrowing eyes but tight lips. “And, as that’s done with,” Rosey went on after a burdened silence in which Rosetta’s judgmental stare impressed upon her the need to do…something, “you may go, Aida.”

Aida did not exit in haste, she slipped behind Sister Rosetta’s considerable bulk and gave a searing, lasting, parting look of what Rosey feared bordered on conspiratorial camaraderie before shutting the door behind her.

Rosey sat on her cot and fought the urge to fidget on the cot, to kick her leg and scuff her boots under Rosetta’s unwavering observation. That hideous, vibrating apparatus was still lying sideways on the floor.

“Child?” Rosetta broke the silence at last and Rosey ground her teeth at the sudden absence of all respect and deference, merely parental concern remained and no small rebuke in it. It had been a show for that whore, then, and nothing changed. Nothing ever changed, Rosey would always be stuck as that cloistered little girl who grew up to be a stunted young woman.

“I’m glad you came by Sister, I’ve a complaint against you.” Rosey spoke up, daring this due to the sting of repeated losses of authority, first to Aida and now to her.

“With me?” Rosetta repeated, seemingly astounded.

“Yes.” Rosey smoothed her hands out on her lap, “It would seem a confidence I trusted you with a few nights gone, a confidence I would have kept to myself if not so shaken, was repeated to the Captain in its most gruesome and twisted manner.”

“By me?” Rosetta repeated, eyebrows raised nearly to the band of her exquisite turban.

“There was no one else to insinuate what he now believes as gospel truth.” Rosey pointed out icily, “He is under the impression, Sister, that he forced himself on me the other night.”

“Unsuccessfully!” Rosetta protested, “He knows he was unsuccessful. There’s no harm done.”

“The harm is in the intent!” Rosey cried out, “And in the fact he believes himself capable of it! He won’t even-“ with effort Rosey reined in her narrative to the details proper to be shared, “he would barely trust himself alone in his own room with me. And while that has been surmounted by vows and begging on my part -he is…tentative.”

“Not a bad thing.” Rosetta pointed out, chin lifted, “A man that -hungry, a man like that oughta be tentative. And that night should have proved it to you.”

“What occurred that night was not unwanted.” Rosey enunciated, near to a rage, “And I would not have him think otherwise. I did not tell you otherwise. I confided my wants to you and admitted my sins, that I wanted his babe! His love! And you took that, took that temperance of mine and told him he was a brute?”

Rosetta swiped her hand over her brow a half a dozen times as if battling something quite heavy before deciding on a course of action and hauling up the rickety chair to sit in front of Rosey, amidst the wreckage of the trunks. “You think well of him.” she noted and before Rosey could more adamantly rephrase this moderate sentiment, she held her hand up for silence, “And it’s well that you do. And it is well for him, too. But with such a man, it is well for him to know what he is capable of, and to not think too highly of his own restraint. Not when we are speaking of something as heavy as this.”

Rosey did her best to listen and give such a statement it’s due weight and consideration, but peeved at continued insinuation of her own naïveté felt compelled to retort, “Ma’am, I’ve seen a woman forced, my own sister in fact, I don’t need to be told about heaviness. I’m telling you now, I object to saddling a man, however volatile and, and, and hungry as you call it, with the taint of such cruelty. He would never.”

“You think I care about the act?” Rosetta scoffed but gently added, “Child, there’s sins and then there’s harm. And then there’s bringing a child into a world not fit to care for it. And that’s what I object to. That’s what he objects to. And that’s what deserves heaviness and fear from such a man, and you should fear it too.”

Rosey swallowed hard, the shift in Rosetta’s tone becoming softer than she’d ever seen and it took her unawares. In vain did she summon back her old ire, instead like a helpless student, she waited for more.

“Don’t be so eager for a babe, girl.” Rosetta murmured sadly, “Not in times such as these. Even good men betray you, and even the ones who don’t -they’re not promised tomorrow to provide for you. And in your case, without him, there’d be no Captain Presley to buy your child and bring him up as his own.”

Rosey tapped her boot on the floor rhythmically as an assorted pattern of clues formed in her mind and suddenly it was quite plain, all those hours teaching him math in her presence and watching her watch him frolic with the captain and her so very angry at the colonel for threatening him- “Cal is yours.” Rosey realized, “He’s your son.”

Rosetta pursed her lips and nodded, more vulnerable looking than Rosey had ever seen her stoic face, “And it would do him no good to know.” he mourned, “For I had a man, and he was a good man with ivory skin, blue eyes and a wife, and he told me he’d come back for me. That was a whole war ago.” she noted, “And the only man who came was Elvis, bought us both out of our debt. Freedom ain’t sweet when ya can’t eat and when the color of your skin affects your child’s chances. If you were to have a bastard, you’d be nearly in the same case as me.”

Rosey leant forward and tentatively laid a comforting hand on the stalwart lady’s knee, “I’d no idea. Not when I was teaching him -and you, right there, holding your tongue. I cannot fathom it.”

“One day,” she murmured, “you’ll love someone enough to hold your tongue, even if you want to claim them. And what kind of parents would you be? A man of pleasure and a murderess? This isn’t a just world and it’s certainly not a kind one, you’d never get to keep your child. Promise me, never a child, if I could spare either of you that, I would, that’s why I’m sayin’ what I am saying.”

“I can’t make that promise.” Rosey gasped, heartsick and persuaded, “I-I can’t, it’s not for me to make. Not alone.”

Sister Rosetta received this with grudging admiration for Rosey’s loyalty to his headship over her.

“There was a woman aboard, little over a year ago,” Rosetta’s tone turned dreadfully measured after her brief vulnerability and Rosey braced herself, knowing the tale was worth heeding if so circumspect a woman took to divulging secrets, “she was wealthy as was her husband. And the Captain had a fear that she had begotten a child off him.” Rosetta paused as if weighing her narrative once more, “He was most careful about that, you see, with his work, such as it was, most careful. It was paramount to him. But with this woman it was feared. Some couples are harmless, some women are needy, and some are depraved. They all pay the same. But,” she folded her hands again and again before rising and speaking to the door, “but this particular couple, they were crueler than most. Thwarted his precautions knowingly. Seemed to delight in it, like it was a lark to taint themselves with him. It’s a common thing paid for, a sort of abetted cuckolding with the husband engaged. It wore on him, Miss Beaumont, years and years of seeing marriage so demeaned and him being the instrument for it but -never to such ends as this. I don’t know what Etta tried, and I don’t know what Aida planned, but when these helpers failed he came to me.”

“What -what did he want?” Rosey begged. “What did he intend?”

“I don’t know.” Rosetta sounded like a jaded witness, “But he told me of it, told me he was begging God to finish that woman, anything to prevent a child of his to be raised by such degenerates.” Rosetta turned back to her, looking over Rosey’s head, “He gave himself back to God that night. And stuck to it until you came along. The next port of call he sent me to their room to deliver a telegram that had come in. It read of an emergency, the couple demanded a ramp be lowered before the boat had fully docked, they were eager to be off. Considering his passenger's request paramount to an order, the Captain lowered them a ramp.” Rosetta locked eyes with Rosey as the girl guessed a million endings to this harmless tale, “That was the only time Captain Presley has ever lost passengers while unloading. Crushed them between the hull and dock.”

Rosey found her mouth had gone dry when she tried to swallow her shock, choking on her own emotion, Rosetta went to the wash basin and brought her the pitcher, encouraging her to drink.

“Don’t you ever think that man takes the prospect of a child lightly.” Rosetta ended her caution quite simply and Rosey gave the pitcher back with nerveless hands.

“You think he-“ she could not say it the first try, which was ironic enough considering what unaccounted and horrible things she’d laid to his account when she first met him, “-killed them?” she whispered.

“Court ruled it was an accident, Me. Cash was an advocate.” Rosetta acted suddenly as if she was arguing against her own narrative, “And since then the Captain became a most revernat disciple of the gospel of his youth. There’s nothing more to be gained from guessing. Till you.” she added, “Now it bears some worth in repeating. Just, bear in mind when you’re fooling and he’s suggestible -he don’t take it lightly, child. He don’t take it lightly.”

Rosey repacked the trunks when Rosetta left her, unable in her rearranging to help herself from snooping in some small way. There was nothing very remarkable save a large assortment of knives that looked as motley as possible with different inscriptions and initials on them, suggesting other owners. There were strong ribbons of silk, too, 10 times longer than needed to tie up even Rosey’s long mane of hair, and clasps too, cosmetics of coal and rouge in tidy little containers. And a hairbrush that looked innocuous enough until one examined the phallic handle. Rosey nearly dropped the thing in startelement that she was holding something with veins and ridges so similar to the real thing while being pantomime.

It felt disloyal and she dropped it back into the trunk. It thudded dully on the wooden bottom and still no photographs were to be seen. A single cameo was wedged amongst books and when she cracked its decaying hinge open she found a picture of Captain Phillips looking ten years younger and without a lick of gray. Wartime portrait. She tucked it back in place and threaded the strange assortment of thin silk shifts and a large corset, as if for a big boned woman, around the more delicate things and stacked the books as best she could manage.

This done she went to her meeting with the doctor, such as it was with a table set up in a closet beside the Boilers that held pitchers and hoses in case of a fire in them, foggy and lost in early memories of the captain. Not the sunlit frolics of childhood that were dimly returning to her the longer she stayed with him but that dreadful first night they met. She wracked her brain for the little details she’s once worried to shreds in her fear of him but had since been smoothed out like so much jagged ivory in a near completed sculpture. She recalled the way he shoved through the New Orleans riff-raf with unblinking authority and the way he’d snapped his fingers and bought her with only mild protest from other bidders. She thought of his playful refrain to her these day “No murder, Rosey!” and realized with an ache that he may not have meant it so lightly. He was begging her off a path he had been down. The more she thought of him in those early days and the fear he elicited in her, the more she realized him capable of the tale she had just heard.

“Just once I wanna hear Old Beaumont’s daughter say ‘cock’ while grinding back on mine.” he had been so mean with his words that first time, goading and venomous at her for her lofty origins. Or was he just used to speaking like that to highborn ladies who got a thrill from a working class man soiling them?

It was more of a wonder that he was capable of love now, and hated himself as faintly as he did, with such a history. Each new little discovery of it that she made was like pricking her fingers on hidden pins in a seemingly complete cross stitch. If she could run above deck now and hug him and have him lave her pricked fingers with his tongue and promises -she would.

Instead, “Good afternoon, docter.” She greeted and closed the door of the closet behind them.

She took the seat on the far wall, which was only about three feet apart from himself with a rickety board serving as a desk. Rosey laced her hands around her ink pot atop her accounting books with admirable poise and gave him a smile. Dr. Nick’s smile wavered but he returned it all the same.

“To be perfectly honest, Miss Beaumont, I am confused by this, uh, interview, shall we say?” he admitted as she laid out her papers and asked for a list of drugs and medicines used in the captain's care. “I am not beholden to you or owe you any information, the art I practice is guarded by oath and the law of this land states no boat of this size can traverse without a doctor, i am thus immune to any threat you may make or change you may attempt. You are a purser, ma’am, and I am a physician. I suggest we keep to our respective callings, the better to pass this trip in a harmonious manner.”

“I am indeed a purser,” Rosey dipped her pin in the ink with methodical precision, “and as such I am to make an account of what comes and goes in our revenues. I am not here to play chemist sir, I am merely here to ascertain to what purpose we spend nearly 40 dollars monthly on Mercury. salts?”

“Pah.”

“The boat pays for that, sir.” She reminded, “Another ten for opiates, another thirteen for -“

“You are new to book keeping, yes?” Dr. Nick interrupted.

“No, I am not at all new to it.” Rosey answered truthfully.

“Book-keeping in a brothel, then?” he guessed, “Just as you would pay for lye or salt marsh to seed your fields, this vocation requires a vast array of…fertilizers. Stimulants and relaxants and numbing drugs -the human body can only sustain so much on its own power, Madame. I shall spare you the details but there are illnesses to treat as well. Rife amongst such work.”

“Spare me no details, which illness is which drug curing, Doctor?”

“The Mercury -Aida ingests that morning moon and nightly on my orders.”

“That’s why the entire woman is turning silver, I suppose?” Rosey shuddered and noted it down.

“An unfortunate side effect.” he conceded, “Along with vomiting and wasting, the disease can be attributed for the rest of her symptoms, the mind and vision. The rotting of brain matter and soft tissue that you have no doubt smelled. She is not alone, half the boat relies on Mercury to keep the rot at bay.”

“How long?” Rosey asked, “How long must they be on it for a cure?”

“Girl, there is no cure for such filth.” he grunted, “We are talking of back alley, degenerate diseases, lowborn blood and the judgment of God on all such products of lust combining to waste them away.”

“And what are you treating the malaria with?” Rosey moved onto another Devine pestilence that she was certain the captain suffered from.

“I don’t recognize anyone with it.” he objected, “No swollen tongues or yellow eyes.”

“It can be chronic-“

“-no, not in my study of it, it can’t.” he shook his head with surety, “Syphilis, that’s what we’re fighting aboard, and the Clap. I suppose we should think of getting you on a regimen if you’ve been having -relations.” he muttered with what Rosey truly thought might be blunt concern for her welfare. “There’s no cure, but these medicinals they are -essential for any quality of life to be maintained and for comfort to be found at the end. Essential. Syphilis, It’s a spirochete you see, not at all like a bacteria, under a microscope it looks rather like a corkscrew drilling its way into each cell, siphoning off the life from it.”

Rosey swallowed thickly at that image and jotted down another column, “What symptoms was the captain experiencing that such a disease was suspected?” the difference between himself and Aida’s derangement were obvious, but perhaps that was just a matter of time.

“He runs fevers, he has sweats, he is fatigued,” the doctor rattled a mundane list of ailments boredly, “he engaged in sodomy. It’s clear.”

Rosey bit her lip at the recent revelation as to the details of that act and retorted softly, “He vomits, almost every morning, he vomits. Does that not sound more of cholera, at least?”

“Where would he have gotten cholera?” The doctor scoffed.

“He was abroad for years during the war!” she retorted heatedly, “And was held prisoner in Elmira of all places -do you not think that sufficient to contract an illness without contracting the wrath of God, too?”

“Was he kept there?” Dr. Nick showed grave surprise, “I didn’t know him then.“ He explained as if that were an end to it, nothing remarkable about having judged a patient’s case without any history given. “I was hired by Colonel Parker to help ease him in his vocation, and for the occasional assist when sleeplessness took hold. You’ve nothing against sleep drafts do you?” he suddenly asked in horror at her ignorance.

“I’m here to account, sir.” she managed in a horse whisper and marked the Mercury salts for two, all the rest having been discharged from service. She started another column for unaccounted drugs which she figured she could assume with some surety that the Doctor himself indulged in.

“We really ought to get you on something, it spreads you know.” he insisted not unkindly.

Rosey shifted in her seat and thought of her innocence still so resolutely intact. “I think you’ll find that won't be necessary, sir.”

Come evening they were still at it, tallying figures and dosages that ran like Greek in Rosey’s head to the lulling of the familiar boilers clang, making white noise beside them.

A grating scrape silenced them both as the jarring sensation of the boat catching on some unknown barrier below them cast the fear of God on them both. Not in all her time aboard had Rosey heard something remotely similar. Not even when the Captain sidled the great monstrosity up the docks. He parked his boat smooth as a dance master, a little bump and sway and they’d settle as the ropes tethered them.

Not so this screech, it reminded Rosey and the doctor both that they were in a floating cask. Following was a disorienting little tip where the ink pot began to slide towards her and she caught it, unnerved by the small but unmistakable turn the boat was taking.

“Have you ever-?” she broke the silence as they still stayed unbalanced like a buggy relying on a single wheel for a reckless curve.

“No.” Dr. Nick had his eyes searching the ceiling as the lamp above them stayed slanted to the side like their balance. “He’s makin’ the turn,” he surmised sounding a little awed, “we’re headed into the Missouri.”

Rosey wondered if she’d feel it when the water changed, beyond the boat righting itself after the turn. She wondered if the Captain would at least, with those keen hands and attuned senses. Would the current change? Would the depths affect his grip on the wheel? Was the strain of the boilers her imagination or was it like they were truly fighting for access into the giant tributary. Would the river gods let him in? Hand braced on the wall as her chair went slightly askew beneath her weight, Rosey let up her first little prayer in ages and it sounded strangely directed towards the captain’s talent instead of God.

Up above decks the Captain’s eyes smarted from kerosene fumes and hours of squinting into the pale lamp-illuminated river mists, they gathered like shrouds on the old Mississippi’s surface as the inky waves danced into the edge of the black sky. Elvis felt like it was a funeral procession of sorts, all black robes and white smoke like he’d seen in New Orleans

‘Don’t count me out yet, ole Miss,’ he thought fondly, ‘watch me come back to you old girl’.

Jerry was to take the evening watch and still refused to go down below to catch his nap, too anxious for the damn turn into the tributary like the rest of them who knew anything about anything. Elvis tried to comfort himself that if he ran them into a sandbank and drowned them all, first day of the job, he’d at least be responsible for killing General Sherman.

As it was Elvis sniffed away the smarting fumes and gritted his teeth at the gnarly scrape that wailed into the night as he toggled the massive wheel to his left, a little too much, too soon? Or was he too late to thread the damn needle? The current felt like a damn whirlpool keeping him at bay and he had to stick out a foot off his high stool to force the wheel straight on his course. It was unnerving the way it would have spun and spun them to oblivion if he’d let go the slightest bit.

“Ya got it, ya got it.” Cash’s rumble sounded steadying in his ear and once again Captain Presley gave thanks for the Divine intervention and kind suspicions of Mr. Binder who didn’t trust his investment that far westward without the Waterway Committee’s watchdog tagging along to guard it. The fact it was ole Johnny Cash from dear dead days gone by and more recent redemptive ones, only made it kinder. Between Rosey’s pardon and Cash’s presence, Elvis was ready not only to repay Mr. Binder generously but even to like the man. “Ya got it, don’t spook, man.”

Johnny kept the damn unhelpfully small print map up in the right half of Elvis’ view, thumb tacking it to the top of the wheel for the past half hour as Elvis’ glued his eyes to each treacherous little bend of the entry way he’d never probbed before.

“Which one is it, damnnit?” he hissed to himself as every little juncture was running together on the map and maybe he shoulda brought his glasses if he knew this was going to be more about reading for hours straight and far less about seamanship.

Cash reached over him and wiped the off the compass with his jacket cuff and that was all the rebuke Elvis needed for his small tantrum. “Instruments ain’t lyin.” Cash grunted.

“Either of you bastards wanna ease us into this whirlpool, be my guest.” Elvis had to get his anger out or else tip them and he felt better right away at the guffaws it inspired.

“Fuck no.” Jerry chuckled nervously in back and Elvis hated him for the way he was just shy of talented enough to do this and thus could warm his hands around a hot canteen of coffee while Elvis’ numb and braised hands cramped on the wheel.

“Ease is the right word.” Johnny chuckled, “don’t let Lamar spook and gun us in.”

“I know, I know.” Elvis grunted as he felt himself get in a groove, the current finally splitting at the bow on either side like a welcomer instead of a barrier, “I-I think I’m in, I’m -I’m in somethin.” he added unsure, “Lemme me in sweet Missouri, lemme in Big Muddy.”

If one of the soldiers beneath them had been atop he might have laughed at the language or thought it pantomime but it wasn’t, none of the rivermen laughed, they just bit their lips at the necessary double entendrés and prayed the fickle water would listen.

“Mhmm, nice n’ easy you’re in, I feel what ya mean -tell Lamar not to spook.” Cash urged Elvis again as the boat began to tug into the bend as it ought, causing the deck and the whole dark horizon to tip to their right as they turned west.

“He knows!” Elvis bit back, knuckles white as the wheel tried to tug him fully to the side, his thigh working harder to pull him upright again.

“Does he? If it were me I wouldn’t trust a single fella who ain’t a professional lover not to gun it in, full steam ahead, right about now.” Cash admitted.

“Lamar don’t ya Fuckin’ do it!” Elvis grabbed the horn and hollered down to his boilers, “Make her swallow us whole if ya do!” and it was just in time too, the boat began to rattle and hum as if a few more scoops had been added and the bellows worked a few pumps beyond direction. “Quit pumpin’ so hard, damn you.” Elvis hollered again and his amplified voice rattled around the boilerdeck like Hades sending out a decree into the underworld, it made Rosey perk up across from Dr. Nick. “I tell ya when to add coal, fucks sake -no intuition for feelin’ it give, some folks…” Elvis trailed off in a grumble and let the horn fall with a clatter back in place.

The current of the Missouri runs southernly from its source in the great northwest and where it meets the Mississippi just north of Saint Louis, it forms a churning caldron of wrecks, tide pools and sediment. Enough steam is required to make the turn and keep one’s progress against a current that flows over eight miles an hour, yet too much steam and it will tip you right into the swirl of the conjoining streams.

“Sweet Jesus I feel like I’ve been turnin’ for hours.” he groaned, his shoulders burning from the strain, “Gonna run into the opposite bank this way.”

“How she feelin?” Was all Cash replied.

“Looser.”

“Looser bad or looser good?”

“When is looser bad?” Jerry asked with a snort.

“Looser’s bad when your fuckin’ wheel spins like a roulette wheel, ya idiot.” Elvis helpfully supplied.

“Yeah, never seen that yet.” Jerry conceded that he was a very good first mate and hadn’t allowed such a thing to even happen.

“I-I dunno man she’s loose but- but I feel her tug-“ Elvis bit his lip and tried to process both the instruments and the leading of the wheel. “-left.” he decided, “She’s tuggin’ left.”

“Then show her who’s boss.” Cash grinned and thumbed at the droplets on the map, squinting himself at the small type. “You plan to tuck us in before Kansas City for the night? Nice lil cove right about there.” He pointed at the map with his big blunt finger but Elvis had his tongue between his teeth and he leaned on the wheel spokes to pull the boat right.

“Just trying to get past this bend then I’ll think about goddamn coves.” Elvis grunted, “She won’t stop sucking m’bow to portside.”

“Want a hand?” Cash asked mildly.

“Fuck me it’s like asking the wife to fuck this mistress.” the captain muttured instead, switching from pleading with the river to begging his boat to go where it wasn’t built for, its high top decks -so spacious and regal for entertainment or speed- precariously teetering in the rough n’tumble of the backwoods river. “Ooooh hell she's tuggin’,” he exclaimed finally, “Lamar, Lamar! Gimme more now!” he yanked at his own controls, a stick that precariously opened the steam valves at whim so long as enough coal was supplied below, and the Proud Marie lurched into the turn with all the rage of an offended deity. “Cash? Wanna help?” he barked, wild haired and sweating in the gas light and looking more in his element than Johnny had seen him in ages.

“Bless me no, you juggle your own women.” he smiled instead. “Pay attention to that tuggin’, now. Don’t wanna die now we’ve threaded the damn thing.”

“Oh I’m payin’ attention, alright.” Elvis laughed. “But now she’s tuggun’ like the current’s suckin me ‘stead of pushin’, Cash.”

“How fickle is woman.” Cash mused while lighting up a cigar.

“Just think,” Jerry piped up encouragingly, “couple more hours of this then you can go lay on soft bosoms and catch some shut eye.”

Seeing as how it was already past ten in the evening, the thought of more hours was more tortuous than conciliatory. “Jerrah, how about you fuck off and make yourself useful. Light my cigar f’me again, damn mists keep puttin’ it out.”

“You can’t just breathe tobacco up here.” Jerry pointed out even as he struck a match and cupped it to the Captain's face.

The captain glanced at him, all sooty lashes and water speckled cheeks in the warm glow of the kerosene wick, “Watch me.” he puffed, as he felt the river give him a lane and he slotted in, pulling his wheel straight again. “This got me sweatin’ like a whore in church.” he whistled, no longer jealous of Jerry and his coffee.

“Works every time.” Cash agreed with a knowing smile and Elvis grinned back.

“We’re in boys, we’ve well and truly entered her.” he announced a mile in and half in, and had there been daylight, the mouth leading to the Mississippi would have been seen slowly shrinking behind them like a portal to the known world.

“Done so gentle, I'd bet she didn’t even bleed.” Cash patted Elvis' shoulder and he smiled back, fighting the urge to slump over the wheel and fall asleep now the day’s worst was over.

A few hours passed and the Captain did tuck them into a cove for the night, running the ropes out the hawser holes to secure them to the beached wreck of a more unfortunate predecessor on its banks. He woke Jerry where he’d slumped in his chair for his watch.

“Say hi to Rosey for me, EP.” he mumbled and Elvis didn’t begrudge him after having slapped him around a bit to thoroughly wake him.

“So you kept her aboard?” Cash asked him as they tromped down the multiple flights of ladders to the lowest deck, handrails and boot grips slick with mist and the single lantern Elvis held doing little to light the way.

“Cash, she killed for me.” the captain reminded in a dazed murmur.

“She’s really somethin’ then?” Cash made conversation as they creaked open the side door, an absolute racket of a sound in the otherwise sleeping boat, and stepped into the starboard side of the stables.

“Whadda you think?” Elvis sassed with smug awareness that Rosey really was something else.

“And ya love her?” Cash rumbled on in that easy way of his that would have you declaring shit you didn’t have figured out yet.

“Whadda ya think?” Elvis answered again and started weaving through the horses instead of going to his little closet and its cot and warm bosoms, “Hellfire, it’s a sea of horses down here.” he muttered as he walked down an aisle of where the tethered yet majestic creatures nipped at him with eager muzzles or else swished him with elegant tales, “Poor Beans, s’like berthing on a transport. Bullshit steerage accommodations for m’boy.” he bemoaned when he found him and Cash assumed Beans forgave all with the nearly amorous way the horse flung his head neck around Elvis’ and the two swayed in a cheek smashed embrace.

Removing himself from the equine reunion, Cash busied himself with going to the far side where the racks of loose hay puffed out between wooden slats and grabbed himself a bundle to replace Bean’s trodden supply. When he returned he found Elvis in discussion with someone, and after initially assuming it to be his tetched horse, Cash realized there was another fella down here with him, not one of the crew, just a sleepless soldier come to keep his horse company, or the other way around.

“Best cure for it.” Elvis was agreeing pleasantly to something the man had said and Cash assumed it was insomnia, “M’boy here’s always my first choice. Is your berth comfortable, got everythin’ ya need?”

“Yeah, it’ll do.” The man replied a few horses deep into the row and Cash squinted trying to make out a discernible facial feature in the gloom and all he succeeded at was recognizing yellow colored hair. “Sleep a whole lot better of they’d kept the female comfort aboard.” the man added with a joke.

“Ain’t fittin’ on a government boat, they says.” The Captain maintained a neutral tone and took to unsnarling one of the braids in Beans withers.

“I bet the rich bastard who ran this kept a few, ya know?” The man disagreed with a grin, “The guys have pooled together, we’ve got a decent amount of cash for anyone who wants to give us a tip to where we can find the maids. Can’t run a boat without maids.”

“You can.” Elvis replied a little harshly, “Leastwise they’re all men.” he added.

“Well, if we get desperate enough...” The fellow joked.

“If ya get desperate enough you’ll find yourself sucking lead outta my pistol ‘fore I let you mess around with my folks, that clear?” The captain crouched and yanked up the lantern he’d set on the floor and pushed it into the crowd of horses to make out the man’s face for future reference and illuminating his own. The man was nearly middle aged and was unremarkable really, in every way, except for the glinting brass uniform buttons running down the front of his navy blue jacket.

“Wh- shit me, you the captain?” the man asked in surprise, putting his hands up in a pacifying way, “Sorry sir, just kidding is all. It’s gonna be a long trip.”

It was indeed, nobody knew that better than Elvis and he decided the fellow was jovial enough, hell- if it weren’t for Rosey’s presence the captain would have taken such a joke in stride and he knew he was being irrational about it. He’d let rip with such humor himself at times and it didn’t mean anything, it didn’t and there was no use antagonizing his human cargo on the first day over a joke. The scuff of Cash’s boots behind him reminded him he didn’t need to be bowing up at everyone, mildness was the order of the day.

“Yeah, gonna be real long.” Elvis agreed and they exchanged tired smiles at each other, the fellow was missing a front tooth on his lower set and had a shock of golden hair that had turned a little straw-like from hard living. “You got a wife or kids?” he asked, stepping aside so Beans could munch on the hay Johnny brought.

“No, no I’m unattached.” the fellow replied, “It’s better that way I figure.”

“Whores don’t miss ya.” Elvis deducted with a conciliatory grin and the man took the offered olive branch with a knowing smile.

“I suppose they don’t.” the man laughed back. “You seem awfully familiar,” the man went on, “have we met? Did you used to work transport during the war?”

Elvis didn’t quite have the heart to tell the guy that even if they had met he was about as remarkable as a piece of straw and thus not memorable, a nice person didn’t deserve the insult so Elvis said instead, “Judging by your accent, I highly doubt I’d have been carryin’ you down river.”

“You an old Rebel then?”

“You’re a New Yorker?”

“I am.”

“Yeah, then, seems not.” Elvis shrugged, “Unless,” an awful thought struck him, “-you always been in the Calvary?” he inquired, his own interest peaked, knowing without a shred of vanity that his own face was not particularly forgettable and so when folks told him they’d met before he tended to believe them.

“No, used to be infantry.” the man was puzzled by this line of questioning, “Bought my own commission five years ago.”

“Shieet!” Elvis exclaimed, thinking he’d cracked it, “You ever guard at Elmira?”

“You were held in Elmira?” the guy repeated in disbelief.

“Uhuh, you ever guard there?”

“Hell no, a shit detail that.” the man was offended, “I was down chasing General Hood in Alabama.”

Elvis squinted at this dead end and stippled his fingers on Beans’ back, trying to think of an alternative meeting. “Hood was doing the chasin’, if I recall.” he snarked.

“And we were doing the killing.” the guy smiled back and Elvis let it be.

“Don’t leave the damn candle goin’ till it burns down,” Elvis warned as he and Cash turned to go, “the hay would be happy to catch and keep us from ever makin’ it to the Dakotas.”

“I won’t!” the man replied and as they walked down the cramped hallway that led to Hodge’s room and then Rosey’s, Elvis felt with the keen discernment of too much time spent in dark alleys that there were eyes pinned to his back in the dark hold, watching where he and his lantern went for the night. Elvis could curse the builder of this ship for all its lonely little cubbies, but he knew how to make use of them. Those eyes burned him all the way to his turn and he felt like scratching his shoulder blades, the itch was so strong.

Natural curiosity was a reasonable reason to give the man, but Rosey made the captain unreasonable, and before he turned he doused his wick and Cash stumbled straight into his back.

Instead of grumbling, his friend muttered, “lead on.” in a quiet tone that suggested he got the Captain’s ploy.

“You’re in here with Lamar,” Elvis opened the door to one tiny berth with double hammocks, “Charlie and Cal are across and I’m in through there to a storage closet.”

“Your girl got a gun?” Cash asked instead as he stood on his threshold, “I don’t like that sonuvabitch.”

“What do you take me for?” Elvis smacked his shoulder, “Course she does and not just any, I got her Stan Whatie’s lil ivory project.”

“No, hell, the Cherokee’s?”

“Mhmm, won it over cards.” Elvis said.

“I’ll be damned, you romantic bastard.” Cash marveled, “Don’t tell my June, it’ll heighten her standards and I don’t trust her standards on a game of cards.”

“I won’t.” Elvis snickered and bid him goodnight, creeping through the dark into the next room and fumbling between the cots till he thought he’d found Cal and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

“You’re precious, ya know that?” Charlie’s voice murmured back instead and Elvis’ head reared back with a shocked snort before he turned to the other bunk and its far smaller and utterly unconscious snoozer and repeated the kiss on the forehead originally intended.

He then felt along the wall until he felt the small latch and he pushed it open to find Rosey in nothing but her nightgown, still burning the midnight oil with her nose in a Pharmakea encyclopedia.

“Baby.” he whispered in greeting, tip-toeing past the chair and the trunks to their cot and being pleased as punch by the happy little cry she gave as she flung herself up in the bed to receive his kisses.

“Elvis!” she acted as if it had been years and her love had grown in the meantime and the small kiss he meant to give turned into a full embrace and his intentions for keeping away until he could strip from his work coat and keep her nightclothes unsoiled were irreparably thwarted by her vigor. “Today was a year long, I’ve waited and waited.” she moaned into his mouth and he grinned pleased against her cheek and peppered it with kisses that smelled of tobacco, “You smell of kerosene.” she laughed once she finally released him and he grinned down at her happily.

“You alright, darlin’?” he asked as he began to unbutton his coat, “How’re them bruises.”

He nodded to her chest and she rolled her eyes before assuring, “They’re fine.”

“I wanna see.” he insisted, but made no motion to make her, just kept popping buttons on his leather coat and she rather shyly tugged the wide scoop of her neckline down to show the tops of her breasts, unsure if this was routine or if she was meant to be seductive.

“Aww poor bubbies,” he mourned at the still present marks of the bindings, “Hoist ‘em up a little, I wanna see the undersides.”

With burning cheeks, Rosey scooped a breast in each hand and pushed them above the covering of her linen gown. The flash of hunger that seared though Elvis’ compassion made her shift in want on the cot.

“You been puttin’ the oil on ‘em like I told ya?” he asked.

“Yes I have.”

“S’very important, don’t be lazy about it.” he insisted. “Poor pretty babies, can’t believe I hurt ‘em like that. Gotta put oil on ‘em.”

“I know Elvis.” she agreed, “And what about you? How was it? We felt when you made the turn!”

“Did ya?”

“Yes, and I heard you yelling at Lamar.” she smiled shyly and he didn’t know why she looked so pleased about it.

“Oh.” he exclaimed, “Sorry ‘bout that, didn’t mean to be so angry. He's just such a bull about these things and ya gotta just ease it in, insistent but not forceful, ya know?”

“Don’t be sorry.” she simpered breathily and licked her lips, “You sounded like you were-“

“Like what?” He asked, genuinely confused, as he tried to find a place to hang his coat, “We really need more pegs in here.”

“You sounded like -a lover.” she hissed the last part, knees drawn up to her chin on the cot and he could pinch her cheeks, she looked so cute in her bashfulness.

“Did I?” he hummed, turning towards her as he emptied his various pockets of knives and timepieces and the like. “And did that excite my lil girl?”

“Maybe.” she whispered.

Oddly, he sniffed the air at her answer and squinted as if the findings puzzled him, “You ain’t played with yourself though, have ya?”

“Why- no. No I haven’t.” she gaped in some surprise.

“See, I’d know.” He told her with surety, “When I’ve been above deck all day I get my senses cleared, ya see? And when I come back down I can sense anything.”

“Oh.” her cheeks still flamed.

“Who else has been in here?” He asked after another sniff and his face darkened.

“Oh,” Rosey startled, “Sister Rosetta, she stopped by to remind me of my meeting, and Cal too, for a bit.”

“An-who else?” he asked with the look and tone of a man who already knew.

“Uh, well then there was Aida” Rosey kept her voice light, “she came so I could return her clothes to her.”

“Why’d you return them?”

“We’re done with them.” she replied, puzzled, “Aren’t we?”

“No, no, not necessarily.” he frowned, “And what’s the rush to return ‘em? She ain’t goin’ nowhere?”

“I just- I didn’t think. Sorry.”

“I don’t want you near her, you hear me, Rosey?”

“I-I do. But it wasn’t…she just came by.”

“I bet she did.” he seethed and he undid his vest with savage jerks and Rosey swallowed hard.

“I understand. But -no harm done this time.” she tried to pacify.

“You don’t need to seek out whores for friends, alright?” he went on, “And you don’t need to listen to whores for nothin’ regarding us. If I wanted a whore I’d go get me one. Some things are left better untouched, lil girl’s brains bein’ one.”

“Is she dangerous?” Rosey asked.

“Oh she done a thing or two in her time.” He agreed mirthlessly, “And been done a thing or two back, I suppose.”

“The doctor says her brain is rotting from the illness.” Rosey crossed her arms uncomfortably at the recollection and the rather obvious proofs of the same that being around the woman gave. Even the stench of flesh rotting that lasted hours after she’d gone. No amount of perfume or douched lemons could contain it.

“Why was he tellin’ you ‘bout her case?” Elvis demanded again. “He don’t need to be tellin’ a lady like you ‘bout syphillis’n’shit.”

“Is that what’s killing her?” Rosey asked.

“Most likely.” he shrugged, “They injected the mercury salts into her eyes for it a couple years ago, didn't do shit to slow it. I take ‘em orally and they burn. A- a-a-and I ‘member thinkin’ while I was holdin’ her down for it: nobody ever paid us more for a bit a pain as I paid for that fuckery.”

“You paid for that procedure?” she shuddered.

“She begged me, they said it would help. I-I-I hate her but -I couldn't just let her…rot.” he shook himself, “I'd rather someone shoot me ‘fore I get to that point. Why was he tellin’ you all this?” he argued again, brows knit and a hurt expression on his face, “Why you diggin’ into all this?”

“Elvis,” Rosey sighed and he took a breath too, as if aware he was tired and cranky, “the meeting was to discuss medications, you recall? We -our boat- spends an inordinate amount on medicines and opiates for our…so-called employees.”

“Yeah, cause this way a’livin makes you sick, Rosey.” His hands smacked his sides listlessly. “S’why Aida’s so doped up. Fuckin’ terrifies the shit outta me, and if I didn’t think God wouldn’t like, it I’d toss her overboard as bad luck. But no way around it”

“But you couldn’t have always felt that way,” Rosey reminded, “you were lovers once.”

The captain stopped what he was doing and spun round to face her with some alarm on his face, “That what she told you? That we was lovers once?”

“Well,” now that Rosey thought on it, Aida hadn’t explicitly said so, she’d just listed herself in a line of the Colonel’s erstwhile spies and remarked how seduction was integral to such a role, “no, she’s didn’t say so exactly-“

“-Well we weren’t!” he declared adamantly, as if for his own benefit as much as hers, “Doin’ shit to another body so folks pay ya don’t make ya lovers. It jus’ don’t, Rosey. No more’n me shoveling coal with Lamar makes us married.”

“Alright.” she replied just as adamantly in order to calm him and held up her hands while she was at it. “So y’all did…work…together?”

“I reckon you already knew that.” he muttered, yanking off a boot rather clumsily, “Why’re you so nosy tonight, anyways, hmm?”

“I-I just wanna know you.” she sighed.

“You do!”

“Know *of* you.” she clarified what bit of self recognition she’d come to realize this morning.

“Know Of? Wh- what’ve you been drinkin’ down here girl?” The captain laughed, “Gettin’ all philosophical on me. Ya know me, historically, biblically and a lil too well. I ain’t got any notion ‘bout takin’ you into sordid lil avenues of my life that don’t make no difference now.”

“But I think they do!” Rosey protested a little vehemently and he stopped midway through easing off with his workboot, hand cupping the scuffed heel as he stared her down. “I think it’s pertinent! All this stuff we don’t speak of! Why -you don’t sleep some nights and I dream terribly and -you haven’t even showed your interest to me since you learned who I was!” she managed to insert the most pressing aspect there at the end and felt proud of herself for carrying on through his stare.

“Lil girl, you gone tetched?” He asked mildly, stumbling over to the cot, one clunky boot on and his other a sock foot, laying his beautifully fashioned and wheel calloused palm against her forehead, “Why, I ain’t barely drank anything all day for fear of washin’ away the taste of you this mornin’. Not shown interest? -huh.”

“I mean -your own.” she pointedly stared down at his belt buckle, or rather, the prominent seam below.

“Rosey!” he laughed at her, “I’m dog tired a-and I -my interest has been shown. Sweet Jesus I ain’t got the brains for this. Not tonight.”

“So you can manage it dog tired with Aida but not with me!” she shot back and they both seemed to be equally surprised that she was harboring such expired jealousy.

“I can manage it fucked outta my mind with a gal who didn’t use to look the way she does now.” he growled and then went on in a mocking voice, “And it’ll cost ya only three silver dollars to watch, ma’am.”

Rosey sniffed and shrugged off the barb, figuring she deserved it, “Etta gave me a remedy for this.” she whispered hopefully instead.

“Oh I bet she did.” He eased off himself and stood straight again to work on his remaining boot, “And I’d rather eat fire ants, thank ya.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh it’s great!” He assured with a laugh, “For the first five hours. Then ya start thinkin’ bout amputation. If I catch you slippin Horny Goatweed in my tonics’n’shit I’ll take you over my knee girl, I ain’t teasin.”

“I won’t.” she swore, disturbed at the mere notion of slipping anything into anything he took.

He patted her cheek in acknowledgment before sitting down heavily beside her and setting to yanking off his grimy shirt, the pit stains dark and visible as he raised his arms and struggled with the garment.

“What’s this really about?” he asked softly as the fabric cleared his flushed face, his hair soft and mussed, grease defining each half-hearted curl at the nape of his neck.

“I’m bein’ silly.” she acknowledged with a shy smile.

“Ain’t no crime that.” he smiled back, “Not on my boat. Hell, there ever been a time you ain’t silly, girl?”

“Maybe not.”

“Didn’t think so.” he teased, leaning back against the wall in a slump on the cot’s sagging bedding. “Can’t I jus’ be tired, Rosey?” he asked again, “And I’ll let you be silly.”

“Fair enough.” she sighed.

“Well go on now, be silly. I done told ya you could.” he prodded with a finger to her rib and she jerked from the tickle.

“I know you don’t wanna talk about it.” she shook her head, “And you're tired so- so I won’t make you.”

“I don’t wanna.” he agreed but added sweetly, “I don’t wanna talk about mine but I’ll listen to yours, long as you need. What’s goin’ on up in that noggin? Too many figures, hmm?”

“Secrets more like.” Rosey mumbled petulantly.

“Lord, you got more?” he sighed and didn’t seem angry but she let out a scoff that he’d think she meant her own, she thought of the photographs.

“No,” she chose to leave it be, “no, I’m talking about more curatives.” she teased.

“Girl, just cool it.” he laughed, “I’ll lick ya again.” he offered hopefully and with a little twinkle in his eye that could almost pass for energy.

“What about turtle soup?” Rosey dodged, hopeful that a teasing reference to the first night they met and her naivete and his flustered concern for her eating the aphrodisiac back would rouse a smile.

It did. Predictably his mouth quirked and those pillowy lips looked twice as lush and full now set in a heavy thatch of two day old stubble. He let out a groan of playful aggravation with her preoccupation.

He gently grabbed her listless hand from her own lap and placed it on the rough denim covering his crotch. “You do what ya like.” he sighed, “Can’t promise nothin’.”

The seam was rough but not stiff, as if he’d worn those trousers into softness even at that most vulnerable juncture. As always with his package there was something to pet, even as she ascertained he was not fibbing, he was as soft and tired as he ever got and remained so despite her touches. Even in sleep he was stiffer. She let her hand cup the soft stones spilling on either side of the thick seam, far down between his legs, rubbing at their full undersides and wondering if they ached like her breasts when confined. He shifted on the cot, not in a restless movement at all, but rather as if to settle in for whatever she wished, his legs spreading wider. He even bent his knee and raised his leg to plant one bare foot on the cot, spreading himself as wide as a girl for her attentions, his tall frame cramped and folded by sitting sideways on their little bed.

His soft state inspired soft touches and Rosey found some stupid contentment stroking his sack through the worn denim, running the back of her knuckles up to his shaft that he had tucked nearly to his belt. She realized that despite her boredom with today she was tired too, tired of thinking and tired of mental exertions and ever since he’d taught her, she found this physical outlet far more relaxing than a sleeping tonic.

“I kneed a man here, between the legs, once.” she whispered like a child telling stories at a sleepover and squeezed his sack just the smallest bit. His eyes that had drifted shut while savoring her touches opened up in flutter.

He didn’t seem perturbed by that, by her need for violence, just drowsy from being petted. She should make him sleep. “You can smack me there…if ya like.” he whispered back, entirely serious and not even slightly hesitant. “If ya like -or, or pinch?” he added again as if he’d missed the mark oniy by sheer variety of options as she remained frozen in concern by the offer.

“I don’t.” she got out at last and he shrugged and let his eyes close again. “I-I don’t want anything but gentleness for you.” she expounded and he bit his lip and held his peace for a moment as Rosey mentally smacked herself at the realization he did tell her things, they did talk about…things. He just didn’t do it like a girl unburdening herself or a sinner in the confessional. He offered little insights freely like this one and she was too busy being horrified to notice them for what they were: confidences.

“Jus’ tonight, right?” he asked and meant for it to be teasing but it felt burdened.

‘Maybe he likes pain’ -Aida had said.

“I’d-“ Rosey weighed her options with this newfound awareness in mind, perhaps he would tell her more often what he wanted -like the first few weeks- if she remained a blank enough canvas for him to create on, “I’ll be whatever you want.” she settled for that and began palming him again, enjoying the way the fabric between his legs was still a little damp, either from mist or else his sweat from sitting at the wheel, legs unable to spread or air out. The way his shoulders were dry but the pits of his shirt could be wrung out suggested the same and some strange, torrid appreciation for his toil made Rosey’s mouth water.

There was an oil stain down at his inner thigh and she thumbed it thoughtfully and felt how the fabric was stiff from the stain compared to the rest. He made a soft little noise of contentment under her touches, his one hand busy in the most lazy way with petting her hair that fell all the way to her hip.

Touching. Being touched. God! she’d had so little of it in her life, and so much fear of it for so long and now she was leaning beside a man petting the damp seam of his trousers like a cat's neck. She wedged her hand under his thigh for leverage and bent herself to kiss at him there.

She could hear the staccato of his gasp even from there. “Rosey I-I ain’t even washed, sweet cheeks.” he warned softly.

“I know.” she answered and her voice was a moan, inhaling his pungent sweat, nothing clean about him and she rubbed her face in the pure distillation of his daily exertions like a cat in heat. “I want to smell you.” she told him and it made him swallow hard as she laid her hand on his thigh, the one spread out with his foot up in the covers, and spread him even further, that damned inherent flexibility of his being tested by the strain. His outer knee hit the mattress and it was Rosey that moaned at his ability and Elvis felt like he might shatter into fragments at the erotic pride that rushed through him at the thought of having impressed her.

“Sometimes it’s better, feeling rather than…being felt?” she tried to explain against the damp denim.

“I know!” he sounded more awake and enthused than he had all day, more than even this morning. “I-I know it’s -it’s glorious ain’t it?” and he pet her hair again with happy fervor until she rose up and knelt in front of him, beginning to undo his belt determinedly.

“You’ll wash in the morning.” Rosey decreed as she unfastened the buckle and tugged at the button holding in his warm belly.

“Yes lil’mama.” he agreed with hoarse meekness and drew up his other leg to make her efforts easier.

She opened the fly and tugged it apart, being hit by a wall of musk as he’d predictably poured himself straight into the denim this morning, sans underpants to collect the sweat. He was nearly steaming in that denim hammock. She envied the wash maids and their tasks.

She told him as much and laughed incredulously. “You’ve gone silly.” Elvis swore again.

“No, they treasure your sweat-soiled clothes, I’m sure of it.” she shook her head and reached out with the tips of her fingers to touch the dank appendage and its hammock of swollen stones, the dark curls of his wiry hair almost shiny from the sweat. “Those girls find your trousers -they fight over them i wager- and the winner holds them up and presses them to their faces like this-“ and she put her face to him like a girl kissing at the reflection of a still pond, her hands winding around his waist and digging into the damp back of his trousers, kneading sticky, plush flesh there, too. “-and then she licks at your trouser seams,” and Rosey underscored her point by doing the same to the imprint of his seam on tender pink flesh, “and she moans over the tartness she tastes and the rest of them hate her for what they can’t have. And if she’s really brave-“ Rosey couldn’t believe her own mind at this rate but face pressed to the Captain’s musky balls, she wasn’t truly in possession of any rationale beyond him, him and him, “-she’ll take them to the little closet with the feed sacks and she’ll prop herself up and she’ll touch herself to the smell of you. Wishing she could thank you for your hard work.”

“I haven’t any washer maids.” he whispered while looking down at her eyes with wide, guileless blue ones that were somehow playing a part with their projected innocence while being more himself than anything else about him. “I got rid of them all.” he says.

“Then I’ll have to wash them myself.” she murmured back, raspy and coy, “And I’ll be the one to thank you accordingly.”

The Captain sucked in a breath so hard at this predictable reply that his bottom lip went with it, pinned between his teeth ‘till the vibrant pink turned white under his cruel bite. “Can I watch?” he asked, his voice hoarse with hope. “Watch you be my lil washermaid?”

“So long as you don’t let maid know.” Rosey cautioned with a smirk and dug her hands deeper into his backside, pulling him apart absentmindedly until she felt his cock wag beneath her chin with the first ounce of interest shown tonight. She reared back and stared at the docile thing, twitching pathetically when she dug her nails in a little harsher once more. He sucked in a breath and turned his head to the side and Rosey took her hands out of his trousers to tug the front of his pants further down those sturdy thighs.

She’d no real intention of exciting him after all, only missed him and wanted to taste him before sleep. Tomorrow or next month or eternity was ahead of her to sort out why he responded the way he did. For now her duty was to put him to sleep where he belonged ages ago.

“A big man like you has got to be discreet,” she plotted with him and his face eased as they returned to their play, “the little washermaid wouldn’t know how to face the captain if he found her in such a degradi-“

“-uninhibited position, yes, God, yes!” he interrupted her with an appreciative rush and turned the subject sweet.

“You'll wash in the morning, I want to smell you all night.” she murmured again as she stood up and fully tugged his trousers off over his long feet, making him close his legs from their previous bend.

“Yes’m.” He murmured a little dazed and he looked like he was answering while asleep, the poor man was so visibly tired and she tenderly pushed his naked form to lay down the proper way, all the way flat, on their bedding.

She was not sure what it was about skipping a bath that made him seem more manly, more than he even usually was, but seeing his figure laying there naked on the ratty sheets, hairy and greasy from sweat and the stubble coming in thick -she palmed a breast at the sight of it, distracted from her debate as to keep her nightgown on.

“Strip.” his eyes fluttered in an effort to stay open but they flicked up and down her cotton gown and his eyebrow moved in a motion that was as eloquent as a hand waving it off. “You’ll be warm enough w’me.” he assured her of what she was already sure of.

Rosey drew the gown over her head and tossed it beside the Captain’s denims, only her long hair a covering over her shoulders as she stared down at him once more, savoring the beauty she was about to embrace before reaching high above her and turning the gas lamp out.

Plunged into darkness, she shuffled the couple feet left before her shins hit the cot’s edge and a large, warm hand cupped the back of her thigh and tugged her in. She fell atop him and wiggled till she was tucked into his side, her hand petting at the light fur on his chest and her nose nearly buried in the swamp of his underarm.

He grunted disbelieving at her choice. “How’re you feelin?” she asked, touching his forehead in the dark with the back of her hand, finding it a little clammy but not fevered.

“M’tired.” he replied and none of that had anything to do with Dr. Nicholas and his ponderous list of life

-threatening diseases the man beside her was supposedly harboring.

“You’re not holding off…making love to me…for fear of getting me sick, are you?” she whispered the concern of the day, finally.

“I-I told ya why I’m holdin’ off, Rosey.” he sounded a bit pained but not angry.

“You promise? You’re not just putting it off to spare me -something?“ She begged.

“There’s been nothin’ I was ever less inclined to put off, my girl.” he murmured tiredly as he turned on his side, mashing his face into her breast, giving an accentuating hump of his pelvis against her hip.

“All my life, I ain’t ever been the first choice.” she muttered and his arm tightened around her, “I’ve killed for other women, for Maddy, the ones who were chosen. Wanted, when others-“ she trailed off before picking up in a thin voice reedy with confusion, “-I was talkin’ with Rosetta earlier and I realized I-I was there. I was there for it and not even they wanted me. A dozen men, one woman, and I-I was left alone. I know I should be glad of it.”

Elvis stared at the blackness that somewhere shielded a face he longed to read, but that poor little voice told him a world enough of hurt. He clutched her closer and was going to ask what on earth she meant, who and when and what sort of want she referred to when Rosey added as through in a sob:

“Poor Maddy.”

He startled and turned to grip her in a hug, processing what he was frightened she meant. “That -child, that ain’t no compliment.” he begged her to understand. “Even some of the worst don’t go for -you were a child.”

“Was I? I don’t recall.” she whispered.

“Yes you were.” he declared it, made it truth, “Jus’ ‘cause you only recall it now you’re grown, don’t mean you weren’t a child back then.”

“I’d forgotten.” She repeated, numb in horror at the thought of what else was buried.

“You -you recall anythin’ more?” he asked what he was so very scared to know, hardly sure he could carry the weight of more but certain only a coward would make her carry it alone.

“It took ages.” she whispered, “My knees hurt somethin’ awful from kneeling behind the stove. Took forever for them all to stop.”

The captain crushed her to him and she gripped his back like a shield, “You can tell me, Little Cricket.” he soothed, “Can tell me anythin’ at all.”

“Can I?” she sniffled .

“Mhmm.”

“Then I will -if I recall.”

“Good girl.” He whispered into the damp of her forehead, placing an almost fatherly kiss there.

“So you planned on it, marryin’ me fully? Sickness and all, you swear?” she smiled at the pitch black hollow of his throat, grateful to have it out and trying to gauge with her hands whether a fever burned his life away even now.

“Rosey, I didn’t once plan on you.” Elvis admitted with an affectionate pat and promptly fell asleep.

Go ahead and scream and speculate and gush all you want, I love. Hope you enjoyed💋

**dialogue credit to Captain Smitty

@sexystarfish

@suraemoon

@i-r-i-n-a-a

@lookingforrainbows

@ab4eva

@suspiciousmindsxo

@obsessionisthecure

@snowf86

@whatstruthgottodowithit

@stylespresleyhearted

@ashtag6887

@powerofelvis

@lillypink

@crazymadpassionatelove

@missmaywemeetagain

@myradiaz

@steph-speaks

@stephthestallion

@presleyenterprise

@from-memphis-with-love

@notstefaniepresley

@horror-movieshoes

@landmermaid12

@richardslady121

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@vintageoldsoul

@velvetelvis

@duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

@leighpc

@18lkpeters

@eliseinmemphis

@burningloverdoll

@artlover8992

@xanatenshi

@misspresley

@parodsal000

@kendralavon7

@colahola

@landmermaid12

@vintageshanny

@butlersluvbot

@dkayfixates

@ellie-24

@thatbanditqueen

@elvisabutler

@butlersxbirdy

@heartbrake-hotel

@fav-fanficssss

@kingdomforapony

@be-my-ally

@fallinlovewithurlove

@lilycherries123

@18lkpeters

@xenaspace3-blog

@foreverdolly

@crash-and-cure

@rainyday10-4

@snowf86

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #baby elvis #elvis presely smut #elvis smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis au

79 notes · View notes