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simpforboys · 1 year

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your jealousy is showing

xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: when ajax and you get partnered up for a project, it leaves xavier to realize his feelings

warnings: jealousy, some angst (barely), fluffy ending, swearing

she’s kinda a long one🙏🙏

“alright class, today we’re going to switch it up a little bit. we’re going to do a partner project,” ms thornhill announced.

everyone smiled at their friends, including you. you and xavier made eye contact with smirks, but the energy quickly fell.

“i will be picking your partners.”

you frowned at your best friend as ms thornhill continued to explain the project.

“you and your partner are going to be using this seed.” ms thornhill showed the tiny brown seed around.

kent and some other sirens snickered.

“you two will have to get the plant to sprout by the end of the week. if there is no sprout, you guys fail. the project is due in class by friday. other then that, no homework for the rave’n!”

everyone shifted in their seat as you listened intrigued. bianca raised her hand.

“and is sprouting the seed supposed to be challenging?” she asked.

“this is a devil’s spawn. very challenging to grow, yet alone sprout. there is a specific way for it to sprout, the answer lies somewhere in this riddle. but that’s for you and your partner to figure out. now, here’s your partners.”

“are you ready to be a detective?” xavier mumbled to you with a smile on his face. you shrugged in response.

“i’ll be the best damn detective nevermore has ever seen. i just hope to be put with someone i know.”

“xavier and yoko, y/n and ajax.” ms thornhill kept reading off names.

ajax smiled at you and you returned the gesture. you and ajax were friends, not as close as you and xavier or even xavier and ajax, but you guys could talk without it being awkward.

“if i find out you guys cheat, use technology, or any outside source i will fail you!” thornhill announced.

“so, how do you suppose we do this?” ajax asked you.

“we can meet up at the weathervane later?” you suggested. he nodded.

xavier couldn’t help but feel his stomach twist in knots. the girl he’s practically been in love with for years working with his best friend.

“yeah, how about two?” ajax checked the time.

“sounds perfect.” xavier watched as you flashed your beautiful smile at ajax.

“where do you wanna work on this?” yoko asked xavier.

“how about... the weathervane? at two?”

yoko nodded.

➽─────────────────❥

when xavier walked into the café he immediately noticed you and ajax sitting in a booth together, the seed in a tiny pot you probably purchased. he huffed as he sat down at another booth as he waited for yoko to show.

you noticed xavier walk into the café out of the corner of your eye, but you were too busy brainstorming to say anything.

“maybe we sing to it?” ajax suggested which made you let out a laugh.

“you can sing and dance to it, maybe it’ll sprout out and say hey,” you joked. ajax couldn’t help but laugh.

“well, what other idea do you have?” he questioned.

“this riddle just isn’t clicking in my head. ‘for me to sprout, you must not pout. for my friend grows, while i continue to foe. put me in light, and i’ll be a sight’” you read off the paper thornhill gave you all.

“so the plant makes enemies?” ajax asked sarcastically.

“maybe the whole purpose of the plant is to reveal your true self? i mean, why else would it be called devil’s spawn? some people are secretly assholes.”

yoko finally showed up while xavier’s head was empty. the riddle just didn’t make sense.

what else didn’t make sense to him, was what the hell ajax was saying that had you laughing so much. he hadn’t even noticed his jaw was clenched until tyler stopped by to take his order.

“what can i get you guys?” tyler asked as nonchalantly as possible (considering the drama between the two).

yoko ordered an espresso while xavier just settled for a water. he didn’t need caffeine messing with his head (because you were already messing it up).

once tyler walked away yoko noticed xavier’s discomfort as he stared at you.

“will you stop staring at your girlfriend and focus on our project?” she asked suddenly.

xavier snapped out of whatever world he was in.

“she’s not my girlfriend,” xavier frowned slightly.

“really? everyone assumes you two are together, considering the way you both look at each other.”

you took a sip of your hot chocolate as you and ajax continued making theories.

“i think maybe it’s a metaphor. a plant obviously cannot make an enemy, but people can. and as far as the light, maybe once the problem is resolved there will be growth?”

ajax nodded. “that might be it, actually.”

“but the thing is, what problem?”

you and ajax sat in silence. “let me go ask xavier.”

you stood up in your baggy jeans, black tank top, and jacket. xavier watched as you walked over to him and yoko.

“have you guys figured out anything?” you questioned.

“yes, and quite frankly i don’t think other partners are supposed to be discussing with each other,” xavier snapped at you.

you were taken back by your best friend’s hostile behavior. “damn. well thanks for that, dickhead.” you scoffed and walked away.

yoko stared at xavier. “your jealousy is showing.”

➽─────────────────❥

days passed by with xavier avoiding you. you didn’t understand why he was acting like this.

but your main focus was the sprout and finding a dress for the rave’n. enid had invited you out with her since wednesday failed to make any set plans.

you filled enid in on the sprout project with ajax, knowing how much she liked him.

“oh my gosh, this would look so good on you!” enid gasped as she pulled out a long white dress with a corset top.

your eyes lit up at the dress. enid handed you the dress before she turned around.

“i’m in love, y/n!” she gestured to another white dress with fur on the collar and sleeves.

enid and you purchased your dresses and shoes before walking out of the store. on the way back to nevermore, you guys looked in the suit shop to see xavier and ajax getting fitted for suits.

“i think i’m going to pass out,” enid awed. you laughed at her fangirling, but couldn’t deny you weren’t doing your own.

xavier looked good. his all white suit made your stomach fill with butterflies.

“has ajax asked you to the dance yet?” you asked enid as the two of you kept walking.

“no, we haven’t really spoken since he stood me up the other night.” she frowned.

“i still think there was some sort of mishap. i don’t believe ajax would purposely stand you up, especially since he talks about you sometimes.”

enid’s gasp made you burst out laughing. “does he really?” she asked excitedly.

“girl, yeah. he wants you so bad.”

enid was practically squealing.

“i can say the same about xavier to you. that boy has it bad for you, y/n.”

“enid, we’re just best friends. but i don’t know, he’s being a dick ever since that stupid seed project.”

“maybe he’s jealous you’re hanging out more with ajax.”

you didn’t answer enid. maybe she was right, but who knows.

“omg! what if the problem you need to solve is you guys confessing your feelings!” enid squealed once more.

you stared at your friend, blinking at her a few times.

“absolutely not. he does not like me.”

“so you like him?” enid wiggled her eyebrows at you.

you couldn’t help but sarcastically roll your eyes as you felt your face warm up.

“you’re not denying it!”

“it doesn’t matter, okay? he doesn’t like me like that. despite how badly i want him to ask me to the dance, his stupid attitude is getting in the way.”

➽─────────────────❥

never in a million years did you think you would fail at getting a stupid plant to sprout. but the look on thornhill’s face when you and ajax showed up with an unsprouted seed was enough to make you want to sob.

“i’m going to have to give you guys a zero for this,” she frowned.

you and ajax nodded sadly, however, you guys weren’t the only ones to show up empty handed.

xavier avoided your gaze as yoko showed thornhill the unsprouted seed.

you sighed defeatedly.

“i’m sure whatever that stupid riddle meant was so obvious.” ajax said in frustration.

“i guess. i just don’t know what we did wrong.”

➽─────────────────❥

later that night, enid, yoko, and you all got ready for the dance together.

“i’m so excited!” enid said happily as she finished putting on her glitter.

you finished your makeup and sprayed your favorite perfume.

taking selfies of yourself for instagram, your stomach began to turn in anticipation.

“okay, everyone smile!” enid said. she took a selfie with you and yoko, uploading it to her social media.

“let’s go show everyone that we’re boss ass bitches,” yoko nodded. you and enid both cheered to that.

the dance hall was filled with white decorations. snowflakes, a giant yeti, fake snow, it looked like mount everest had an avalanche in the room.

enid and yoko met up with their dates as you went to get punch. when you turned around, you almost dropped your drink at the sight of xavier and bianca walking in together.

xavier quickly met your eye contact and you couldn’t help but feel rage fill your body and overtake your emotions.

for the sake of everyone at the dance and yourself, you decided to put your punch down before you did something absurd.

you walked over to enid to who was living her best life on the dance floor and just decided to dance.

letting the anger flow out of your body, trying to pretend like you didn’t want to punch xavier in his stupidly gorgeous face.

however, xavier couldn’t keep his eyes off you. the way you moved your body so freely, the way the dress hugged your skin, it was driving him mad.

and he instantly regretted not asking you to the dance and letting his jealousy getting the better of him.

that is until a boy came up to you, starting to dance with you. at that point you didn’t care and just let the dude dance. his jaw clenched and his leg bounced with the rush of adrenaline.

“hello? xavier?” bianca waved her hand in front of his face. he snapped back to reality and looked at her.

“what?” he asked.

“are you done staring at y/n? can we go dance now?” bianca rolled her eyes.

xavier picked at his finger nails. bianca huffed and got up to find her friends.

deciding he needed some fresh air, xavier left. he walked all the way until the music disappeared, finding himself in thornhill’s classroom.

he grabbed a pencil and blank sheet of paper, sitting down at his desk as he began doodling.

he didn’t even notice the sound of your heels clicking as you came around the corner. “are you done avoiding me?”

xavier jumped slightly as he covered his drawing from you.

“i haven’t been avoiding you.”

“right, because not texting me back or hanging out with me all week is definitely not avoiding. got it.”

“i don’t need to be around you all the time, y/n.” he snapped.

“i didn’t say that, did i?”

xavier rolled his eyes.

“don’t act like you weren’t so preoccupied with ajax.”

“are you being for real? xavier, we literally were trying to find out how to open this seed all week.” you held the tiny seed in your hand.

“didn’t know flirting came with opening a seed,” he mumbled.

“so that’s what this is about? you thought i was flirting with ajax all week and you got jealous?”

“i’m not jealous!”

“then why did you invite bianca to the dance?”

“what’s it matter to you? who i wanna go to the dance with is my choice.”

“because, you idiot! i wanted to go with you! i spent all week trying to get the fucking seed to open so you could ask me!”

“what?” he asked in disbelief.

“oh my god-“ you grabbed xavier by his tie and pulled him in. he immediately kissed you back, his hands gripping your waist.

the kiss was rough, sloppy, yet passionate. xavier walked you backwards until your back hit the desk.

one of his hands went down to your thigh, lifting it up as you played with his hair.

after a few minutes, you finally pulled away to catch your breath.

“i’ve liked you ever since i’ve met you, xavier.”

xavier grinned.

“good, because i’ve liked you since i first saw you. i’m sorry i let my jealousy get in the way.”

xavier pressed another kiss to your lips as you hummed against him.

“you look gorgeous, by the way.”

you smiled. “thank you, baby.”

“baby, huh?” xavier smirked.

“yes, baby. because you’re my boyfriend now, right?” you asked.

xavier nodded with the biggest grin on his face. “yes, you’re my girlfriend now.”

suddenly, you heard a little crack come from behind you on the desk. you both turned to watch as the devil’s spawn seed began to sprout.

“for my friend grows, while i foe. put me in light, and i’ll be a sight.” you recited.

xavier put his chin on your shoulder as you watched the pretty plant flourish.

“i guess solving your problems is the riddle.” xavier laughed.

you grinned, kissing your new boyfriend once more.

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #xavier x reader #wednesday #percy hynes white #percy #netflix #the addams family #xavier #i want him so bad #one chance #simpforboys

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alexa-fika · 29 days

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Locked Database ( Mihawk x f!reader x Crocodile)

A/N yoooooo, I spent yesterday and today makind this, got stuck a lot but I was determined to make it happened. This one is darker than what you guys are used from me but I wanted feedback that part of me a little bit. Million thanks to @quinloki and @💧Anon for giving me inspiration and ideas for this 👀.

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha as a place holder which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“You sure stand out, don’t you, Mr. President?” Crocodile growled, shoving the newly distributed paper on Buggy’s Throat

“It wasn’t me, I swear,” he cries

“Then how the hell do you explain it?” He said, sending a swift kick his way, ignoring the pain-filled groan that escaped him.

“I should kill you for that, clown,” he said, inching his hook closer to his neck, pausing as a knife was sent his way, passing right through his sandy body.

Mihawk continued sipping on his wine as a knife was sent his way, simply edging away slightly to avoid it, yellow irises narrowing at a woman standing before them

“Leave him alone,” she growls, a pistol drawn and pointed their way

“Dokucha” Cries Buggy

“Mr.1,” Crocodile calls, dismissedly

“Let him go,” she demanded, breath hitching as an arm wrapped around her neck, a sharp edge to it.

“Drop the weapon,” a voice grumbled behind her.

She grits her teeth, complying as the hold around her tightened, the blade digging into her skin.

“Who are you?” Crocodile asks, raising an eyebrow when his question goes unanswered.

Mihawk takes notice of this and places his wine down, and in one swift movement, takes hold of Yoru and places the sharp edge against Buggy’s neck

“Stop!” She said, trying to make a run towards him being held back by the person behind her

“Who are are you?” Mihawk Drawls

“…”

He quirks a brow at this, digging his sword closer to the Buggy, receiving a whine from the severed head

“Im his sister,” she growls

“Of this clown?” Mihawk inquires, glancing at her

“Dokucha, don’t! You moron, get out of here!” The clown pleads

“Not without you.”

“Wonder if selling you into slavery will be able to get me back all the money this one owes me.”

“Don’t touch h- Agh,” he groans as Crocodile tightens his hold on him

“Perhaps the money she gets us will be enough so we don’t have to sell you, then we can kill you here and now.”

“W-Wait” she exclaims

“You’re starting to annoy me.”

“You said you were starting a new business, right?”

He hums, gesturing to the person behind them

She sighs as the person releases her

“I'm a prodigy at statistics and economy.” She starts

“I have the ability of a devil fruit aiding me as well, makes me a human database, I can calculate in seconds, provide prognostics just as fast, I can reach valuable contacts, gather the information you can only imagine, run enough statistics to power enterprises ”she continued, getting on her knees in front of them

“I know he is an idiot, but he is still my brother; please spare him. I will work for your company; I can easily raise it and make it a formidable force, so please don’t kill my brother.” she spoke bowing her head

Mihawk takes a glance over at the begging woman

“Come here.”

She looked up at the swordsman, slowly getting up and approaching the men

“If you truly are related to this one, then you have to prove your worth,” Crocodile said, pulling out a paper and handing it to her

“These are the current funds we have. Thanks to your brother, we also have the investments we must make for the guild. Tell me how you would make it work.”

She gingerly took the paper and looked it over, her brain beginning to perform calculations, pulling information and strategies from the network, trying to find the best fit

“Well?”

“First, I would take into account the possible outcomes and expenses of these upcoming investments and create an estimated balance sheet of the income and expenses that will be generated as opposed to current investments. After that, I will assess the risk that will be involved with each expected investment and determine the expected rate of return. Additionally, I will create a comprehensive budget and forecast for expected revenues and expenses to ensure that the guild has enough resources to carry out its operations while remaining solvent. I would move funds between areas they are more needed in, I would eliminate funds given to man-power and employees to the guild; my brother has no shortage of workers, so that is something the funds should not be wasted in," she rambles

Crocodile stares at her for a few seconds until an ominous laugh escapes him

“Well, Well, seems one of the siblings is actually competent.” He stays with a grin, letting out a cloud of smoke

“Why would a smart thing like you sacrifice yourself for him?”

“Are you deaf? He is my brother, an idiot, but still my brother; I'm not leaving him to die to the likes of you.”

“That so?”

“Yes,” she growls

He hums, sending a kick to the body in front of him, the smile growing on his face at the painful whines that escaped Buggy as he did so

“Why would you do that?!” She cries, bending down to help her brother, only to stop as a sword is placed at her neck, silently urging her to rise again

She throws a glance at Mihawk as she slowly stands up again

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t appreciate the tone you are taking; if memory serves me correctly, You were the one who got on their knees begging for mercy, and we heard your plea, and in return, you insulted us?” He spoke, raising Yoru and letting a small smile as Dokucha tried to rise with it to avoid being nicked

“Don’t touch her, please! Spare her!”

Crocodile grunts, growing tired of the bluehead’s whines and sending his hook smashing to his temple, knocking him out

“Buggy!” Dokusha cried, hissing when the sword dug into her skin as she tried to step closer to her brother

“Now we can have a talk without that clown interrupting,” Crocodile spoke, letting out another train of smoke escape him

“Need I remind you that you are not the one at the advantage here, Darling?” he began leaning back

“You are outwitted, outnumbered, and outpowered; you stand no chance to leave of this unharmed, much less that brother of yours; we decided to hear your deal out but never said we would agree.”

“…”

“You certainly are an asset, and now that we know what you are capable of, we can’t allow you to leave.”

“We will spare his life; we will let him become the figurehead of crossguild, make him the scapegoat.” Mihawk continues

“A coward like him is sure to obey without complaint, especially with you in the picture. But that also brings us to you,” Crocodile spoke, looking at her mockingly. Turning to one of his subordinates and began to mutter some orders to them

“Eyes on me,” Mihawk called, pulling her attention away from the scarred man and back to him

“Seems you have more common sense and pride than him, but don’t forget where you stand.”

She grits her teeth, holding back her tongue from snapping back at him, knowing that no matter what she said, no matter what came out her mouth, he was not wrong. Her ability was the only thing keeping her alive and on their radar; she wasn’t and probably would never be a significant threat to the two Warlords.

He smiles at this

“Down,” he orders

“I ‘m not a damn mutt.”

“Yes, a dog wouldn't be this much trouble to train,” he muses

“You da-

“Down, girl,” he repeats, a firmer tone in his voice

She glares at him as she eventually does as he wants and kneels on the ground in front of them

“That will do,” she hears Crocodile mutter as the subordinate returns with something in his hands; she tries to turn to asses what the item

Was but was stopped by the sword again

“Eyes on me,” the swordsman repeats

“You have no idea what you are dealing with,” she sneers

“We do. Thanks to your pleas and little demonstration we do, and that’s why we will take precautions,” the familiar voice of Crocodile rumbles behind her; before she jad time to register his words, the sound of something snapping, and the slight weight on her shoulders answer her question

‘They put a damn collar on me.’

“You have quite the ability; we can’t have you trying to communicate with someone who would create a problem for us or divulging important information, so from now on, we get to decide when and how you use that devil fruit of yours.”

A feeling of dread envelops her as she tries to enter her mindscape only to be unable to find anything

“Sea stone,” Crocodile confirms

“As I said, we get to decide when and how you use it from now on, little Plover.”

“So let’s talk about what is going to happen now”

This just makes me feel some sorta waaay, what are we thinking @quinloki i, @💧anon? I am having the time of my life with this one 😂. So proud of that last part with Mihawk, really like how it turned out. Also ya’ll if that small statistic/economy talk din’t make any sense it’s because I have no idea what the hell im talking about 😂 I just used fancy words I heard my dad use, since he is a banker I figured they would fit the context.

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

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randomperson3736 · 9 months

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can you do one where reader gets in trouble for a school fight? ( reader is John B's younger sister and john b is readers legal guardian)

Paring(s): John B x little sister reader

Genre: kinda angst, fluff

Warning(s): blood, broken nose, fighting, yelling, bullying, swearing

Word bank: Y/N- your name, Y/N/N-your nickname

Notes: thanks for the request and sorry it took so long to be done. And side note the reader is in middle school.

"Routledge!"

"Crap" You mumbled under your breath. Slowly you turned around and plastered a fake smile on your face. "Hey Jessica" you say as nicely as possible. "Yea, I need you to do this homework for me tonight" she says shoving the bunch of papers into your hand.

"I... I can't. I already have loads to do" you say avoiding her devil eyes. "Excuse me? Who do you think your talking to? Homework done tonight or you'll regret it, understood?" She says cracking her knuckles which made you wince slightly.

You quickly nodded and turned to walk away but stopped upon hearing Jessica and her friends snickering. "No wonder her dad left, she's a totally loser" "Yea, she really is. same goes with her brother and he's weirdo friends."

Anger started to boil up in the pit of your stomach. How dare that bitch and her minions talk bad about your family like that? Before you can stop yourself, you turned around again and shouted. "Hey! Shut your dirty whore mouth!"

Everyone in the hallway soon began to go quiet, wanting to see want will happen next. Jessica glared at you almost burning holes into your head. She and her little follower walked towards you, until you and her were face to face with each other. "What did you just say?" She asked dangerously.

"You heard what I said and besides I'm done being your little slave, so do your own homework or are you too dumb for it?" You didn't even know why you just said that knowing you could get your ass kicked but oh god it feel good to say. Laughter and cheering could be heard, as your fellow classmates laughed and cheered that someone was actually standing up to miss queen bee.

"You dirty little slut!" Before you knew It Jessica had jumped on you, as the both of you rolled around on the ground pulling and kicking at each other. Students were yelling "Fight! Fight! Fight!" as teachers tried pulling the two of you away from each other.

~~~~~~~~~

John B was in the kitchen making a sandwich when his phone rang. "Who is it?" JJ asked. "I don't know, some random number probably" John B stared at his phone. "Well, answer it" Kiara pried.

"Hello?" John B answered.

"Hi this is Alex James from Kildare Country Middle School; I'm looking for John B Routledge."

"This is him."

"It says here that you are the legal guardian of Y/n Routledge, correct?"

"Yea. Why what happened? Is she okay?" John B spoke in an almost calm voice.

"Well, this morning, Y/N got into a fight with another student, and we would like for you-" Before he could finish speaking John B cut her off. "What?! Is she okay? Does she need to taken to the hospital??"

"Sir if you would please calm down and let me finish talking. Yes, she is okay just same cuts and bruises nothing that serious, but we do need you to come down to the school."

"Ok, I'll be there soon." John B hang up the phone and before anyone could ask what had happened, he was already out the door.

~~~~~~~~~

You sat in the principal's office. You could see out of the corner of your eye that he was looking at you but you refused to make eye contact and so you just stared at the floor. There was a knock on the door, you looked up to see John B.

"Have a seat Mr. Routledge" Your principal said. You knew he was about to argue with your brother, even though you didn't even start the fight. You just hoped that your brother was in a good mood to where he would defend you, and not agree with the principal.

"You sister, managed to harm a student sending her a trip to the hospital with a broken nose" John B's eyebrows raised, he knew you had to be pissed at her for something or you wouldn't have gotten into a fight.

"Look, Mr. uh.... James. My sister here is a very nice girl, so if she did something like fighting some other student, it's probably them who started it because she would never start a fight" John B explained.

The principal glared at John B before speaking again. "Even so, at this school fighting is not tolerated and I will have to expel Y/N for at least 3 weeks"

"Oh, come on. It wasn't even my fault! Jessica's the one who jumped on me and started to acting like a crazy person!" You retorted. John B turned to look at you and chuckled a little, trying to cover it up with cough. "Ms. Routledge, do you realize who you are speaking to?" Your principal calmy asked.

"Yeah... You're just a person-" You were cut off by your brother slapping his hand over your mouth. "Ok, that's it for you young lady. look, are we done here?"

Your principal signed a long sign before answering. "Yes, you may leave but Ms. Routledge I do want you to write a full 500 letter on how what you did was wrong by the time you come back."

"Yea, yea"

You and John B walked down the empty halls of the school, since it was a little after hours. "So.... am I in trouble? or are you just mad at me?"

John B sighed before knelling down Infront of you. "I'm not mad and you're not in trouble but please don't do this again but..."

"But what?"

"You do have my permission to kick anyone's ass who gives you shit, ok?"

You smiles wide at your brother. "Ok"

~Bouns~

"Wait, Wait, Y/N/N got into a fight?!" Everyone yelled.

"Yea, she did" John B answered calmly, taking a sip out of his beer.

"Well, is she ok?" Pope asked.

"Did she win?" JJ asked, curiously.

"Seriously, JJ that's what your worried about?" Kiarra rolled her eyes.

"Yea, she's fine but I can't say that about the other kid though."

"I knew I taught her well." JJ said proudly.

#fyp #outer banks #jj maybank #john b routledge #x sister reader #kiara carrera #pope heyward #outer banks x reader #john b x sister reader #jj maybank x reader #x reader

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luna-writes-stuff · 6 months

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Home Sweet Home, Lucifer

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Reunion, platonic/romantic (depends on interpretation), S13 E07!

Word count: 1963

Tw: I had absolutely no motivation when I wrote this, so I’m sorry it if sucks. Use of swear words, SPN series centred. Obvious spoilers for S13. That’s all? Can be read as platonic. (NOT PROOFREAD)

Summary: When Lucifer finally escapes out of Apocalypse world, he is left on the streets without powers. It would seem as if you were meant to come across him, and save him from the people mistaking him for a homeless person.

Requested by @blueangel-love . I’m sorry if it isn’t what you had hoped! Inspiration was very low for this one but I did my best. I made another Lucifer reunion fic this month! It’s a better version! You can find it right here <33

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more!

“You know I'm a dreamer

But my heart's of gold.

I had to run away high,

So I wouldn't come home low.”

Not two seconds ago, he had stood in a different world, fighting to get out of it, and now, his face was met with the hard concrete of the sidewalk. Bright sunlight immediately blinded him, the sight very different than what he had been used to in those past short weeks. Confusion seeped into him as he roughly got up, looking at all the people walking around him.

“What is this?” He muttered to himself. “Cincinnati?” He was deliberately ignored by bypassers, only gaining dirty looks, or eyes directly glued to the ground. “Excuse me, could you tell me where I am?” He wondered to a woman, but she ran from him before he had the chance to resume. “Just a moment of your time, sir? ‘Cause I don’t know…” But the man had already left before he could finish his sentence.

This was stupid. He was Lucifer of all people. He wasn’t to be ignored by simple humans. He could curse himself for even trying to be polite.

“Oh my god, when are they ever gonna get those people off the street?” A woman scoffed as she and her friend pushed past him, ignoring his incredulous looks. “Excuse me? Those people?” He repeated, following them in slight offence. “No eye contact, Beverly.” The same woman mumbled. “You have no idea who you’re talking to, lady.” Lucifer threatened, though it didn’t come off as terrifying as it usually did. He knew it.

“Just when things went right,

It doesn't mean they were always wrong.

Just take this song,

And you'll never feel left all alone.”

The woman sighed, reaching into her pocket as she handed the blonde a dollar bill. “Here. And don’t go spending it on drugs now.” Scoffing at the little paper, Lucifer balled it up, throwing it over his shoulder. He chuckled at her, shaking his head in disbelief: “I’m Lucifer.” But as he snapped his fingers, nothing happened to her. Instead of a bloodcurdling scream or a plea for mercy, a joyful laugh came out. “Honey, you’re not Lucifer. My ex-husband’s Lucifer.”

You didn’t know how it even happened. You watched him forced into an otherworldly portal not a month ago, and suddenly, the devil himself had been standing on the sidewalk of a random town. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that he was there. He must have been looking for something.

Dread settled in as you watched him threaten the ladies, though they didn’t seem scared by his appearance. “Oh my god.” You whispered to yourself, shoving your fake ID back into your pocket before running up to the three, placing your hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “Hey, there you are!”

Immediately, the fallen angel spun around, his eyes widening as he came face to face with you. “Y/N?” He voiced, his voice flooded with relief, which you had trouble understanding. “Oh, am I happy to see you!”

“Take me to your heart.

Feel me in your bones.

Just one more night.

And I'm coming off this long and winding road.”

You and Lucifer hadn’t been the best of friends in all honesty. Out of everything you had to deal with and he had to deal with, you simply seemed to be bothered about each other the least. In fact, you had actually helped him a handful of times - if that didn’t include him trying to murder everyone and take over this world. Be that as it may, it still took you by a huge surprise when he wrapped his arms around you to force you into a hug.

You didn’t quite know what to do. If his intention was to smother you to death, he was failing miserably. You awkwardly patted his back before he let go of you. “I am so sorry for the inconvenience!” You faked towards the two women. “Forgot to take his meds this morning.” “What?” He interrupted, waving his hands in dismissal: “No, I’m fine.” “Thank you for looking out for him!”

You quickly grabbed the angel’s arm, setting a fast pace as you tried to pace your way through the crowds. He simply followed you as if it was the most natural thing ever. When the biggest crowds of people had departed, you stopped, turning to him with a scowl. “What the hell were you thinking?” You scolded. “And how the hell did you get back here?”

He refused to answer. He just looked at you as if you were the most interesting thing he had ever seen. “Lucifer?” “I’m just so glad you’re here.” He breathed, pulling you into another hug. You frowned at the notion, now hugging back, though nowhere near cosy yet.

“I'm on my way, I'm on my way.

Home sweet home.”

“Are you okay?” You asked him, pulling from his embrace for a second time. “Yeah, yeah, just fine.” He shrugged. “I gotta figure this out because this…” He snapped his fingers, pointing towards a man across the street who was caught up in his phone. “Isn’t working.”

You breathed an ‘ah’ of understanding, shaking your head at him. “Your test drive for your grace is to intend on killing people then see if they explode?” “Yeah!” He laughed, as if it was the most obvious thing. You merely nodded at him in uncertainty. “Right. Yeah, sometimes I understand why the Winchesters hate you.” “Wow,”

You ignored his sarcastic scoff. “What are you doing here?” Two people walked past you, causing you to grip his shirt, pulling him to the side of the street. Lucifer seemed completely unfazed by it, easily answering your question as if it was the most obvious thing in the world: “Oh, Kevin opened a rift and I jumped in.” “Kevin?” You voiced in surprise. “Other world Kevin,” he clarified, nodding his head from side to side. “Met my other world brother; total douchebag.”

“Tonight, tonight

I'm on my way, I'm on my way.

Home sweet home.”

You didn’t respond to that, still unsure of what to make of the entire situation. Lucifer smiled at you, widening his arms in glee. “But you’re here!” “Yeah,” you nodded. “We should get you some clean clothes.” “Don’t worry about it,” he shook off. “I gotta get to Heaven, though. Get some extra juice.”

You could have cursed him for immediately running off to heaven again. Regaining your grip on his shirt, you forced him into a back alley, making sure you weren’t seen by anyone. Pushing him against the wall, you gave him an accusing look. “Lucifer,” “Hello.” He smiled, that ever-evident cheeky expression on his face. You did your best to keep your face neutral. “You can’t just come here out of nowhere without any grace whatsoever, then expect to waltz into Heaven and expect them to hand some extra to you.” “Well,” he sighed, stepping out of your hold, shrugging as if it was nothing.

“I can.” All you gave him was an unimpressed look. He frowned at it. “I’m not weak.” “I could take you in a fight right now.” You remarked. Once more, that stupid cheeky expression returned: “Oh, are you sure?” “That wasn’t a challenge.” You sighed.

“Too bad. Was looking forward to it.”

“You know that I've seen

Too many romantic dreams.

Up in lights, falling off the silver screen.”

Asshole or not, he knew when to stop. Sometimes. But now, he could see the conflict in your eyes. He knew you got along well with the Winchesters and their angel. “Listen,” he mumbled. “I appreciate the concern, but I am an excellent bluff,”

You couldn’t suppress your chuckle at his words. “Right,” “Not to you apparently.” He continued. “I spot tells.” “Which is why I like you.”

You weren’t an idiot. You knew what had happened with Heaven and everything - Castiel had told you many times. And though there was nothing you could do to halt Lucifer’s ultimate demand of the sanctuary again, you never failed to remember the disappointed looks on the faces of your closest friends. You couldn’t even completely explain why you and Lucifer got along so well. You simply seemed to.

“My heart's like an open book

For the whole world to read.

Sometime nothing keeps me together at the seams.”

“Come on,” the angel almost whined. “I really gotta get amped up. Right now, I’m just… useless.” “Ouch,” you commented, knowing his celestial powers weren’t there now, which practically made him human. “So, will you help me?” He finished.

You observed him for a short second. Considering everything he had done in the past, he looked truly miserable now. And that wasn’t necessarily due to his appearances. Something had changed within him and you could easily see it. And if you could, so could others.

“If I said no, you couldn’t explode me.” “No,” he answered. “But you’re gonna say yes.” His confidence was what took you aback. “Why is that?” “Because I like you,” he spoke plainly. “And you like me. It makes sense.”

“I'm on my way, I'm on my way.

Home sweet home.

Tonight, tonight

I'm on my way, just set me free.

Home sweet home.”

He was so full of himself at some times. It made you all the more cautious of his actual plan. “And your plan after regaining your grace? Back to ruling Heaven?” “Haha, you’re so funny.” He spoke sarcastically, his laugh dramatically fake. Then, he shook his head, shrugging to his next words as if it was nothing: “I’m going to meet my son.”

Something in your face shifted upon his words. He saw it immediately, taking a step back at your reaction: “You met him?” Even if you would lie, he’d know. “Yeah.” “So, you can lead me to him?” He encouraged, his voice filled with eagerness. You had trouble rejecting it.

“Lucifer, listen. There are bigger issues going on right now.” “Such as?” He deadpanned. “Bills? Food? Other mortal things?” “Asmodeus.” He stopped ranting as soon as you spoke those words, disgust evident in his features. He didn’t even try to hide it in his words: “Ugh, he was such a pain in the ass.”

“Yes, and now he’s our pain in the ass.”

“I'm on my way, I'm on my way.

Home sweet home.

Yeah, I'm on my way, just set me free.”

His eyes fell on his surroundings for reasons you could not place. Usually, he wouldn’t think twice about dismissing your offer and disappearing. But you were a welcomed sight after the apocalypse world, and he couldn’t just disappear now. You were his safest bet without his grace.

“Okay,” he relented. “We’re going to Heaven, regain a bit of my grace, I’ll help you handle that asshole Asmodeus and you arrange a little meeting - father-son, you know?” You blinked rapidly at him, still not sure how you managed to convince without as much as a ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. He couldn’t stand your hesitance.

“Come on, whaddya say?” The Winchesters would hate you for this.

You’d recover.

“Get rid of Asmodeus first,” you offered. “Then, we’ll see how it goes.” “I knew there was another reason I liked you!” Lucifer exclaimed as he clasped your shoulder, unable to withstand the smile on his face.

This was probably going to turn out to be a horrible idea, but you’ve done worse things in your long line of work. And there seemed to be something about him now that made him much easier to read. If he was going to betray you, he would hurt himself doing it. He’s too vain to let that happen.

And besides, being close with the devil had its perks.

“Home sweet home.”

#November writings 2023 #spn #supernatural #lucifer #lucifer spn #spn lucifer #lucifer x reader #spn lucifer x reader

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moonknixght · 6 months

Text

Chase of Cat and Mouse [Jake Lockley x Cop!Reader]

Summary: Jake Lockley is a smug bastard who enjoys watching you struggle to find the murderer responsible for Arthur Harrow's death. But it becomes evident that his overconfident façade is not that strong when you manage to catch him after work. Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Enemies to lovers kinda, Suggestive, Swearing, no mentions of marc or steven (sorry guys), mentions of death (?) A/N: this took wayy to long and my sincerest of apologies to all my lovelies. I’m unfortunately a huge procrastinator, but I’ll try working in more fics in the coming days :) ! Requests are open, so feel free to talk to me or suggest something for the next fic!!

You lean on your chair with a distrustful look, eyes twitching at the cocky grin that your suspect, Jake Lockley had on his face. If only you could just reach over the damn table and smack it right out of his face, but unfortunately with no permission from the higher-ups to hurt people under custody, you were pretty helpless to his conceited expressions.

It's just been an hour of going back and forth with the male; where you would propose something incriminating that could possibly involve him, before he would defend himself with a cheeky statement, which worked a bit too well in his favor.

For example, When you pointed out that the man who suspiciously led Arthur Harrow away from the hospital to be never seen again was wearing a cap similar to his, Jake responded with a chuckle; "Is there no one else in London who wears a newsboy cap?"

And it didn't help that every once in a while, he would make a mockery out of you, arrogantly sneering as you struggled to find solid evidence for an arrest. You tried to pay no mind to it as you distracted yourself with the papers lay on the desk in front, trying not to be bothered by anything he says.

"Running out of hurtful accusations, amor?" It was getting increasingly frustrating, the periodic visits of Jake Lockley to the questioning room almost once every week, where every time you insisted it was him. Your superior, an old bloke named Martin was understandably getting tired of it, ever so slightly wishing that he had just taken this rookie case to his hands instead of having his junior over-analyze it so much. London is a big city; the death of another old man was no exciting news, but it seemed to be of great importance to you. A knock on the door snapped you out of your deprecating thoughts, breaking that eye contact that danced with a fiery spark of hatred between you and Jake while you jumped to your feet to answer the door. A familiar figure with a head full of grey hair with an equally grey mustache stood, with a fed-up expression on his face. Speak of the fucking devil. "Cut short for the day, I need you in my office in 10." Martin commanded, a breath escaping your lips quietly as he said so. "But—" "No buts. My Office. In 10. Let 'em go." You turn back to the male who was still sitting nonchalantly on the uncomfortable basin of the stool; but almost immediately as your gaze fell on him, he looked up with a tilt of his head, his lips curling at the end to form a smirk. He managed to get out of your grasp again.

Stepping into Martin's Lair, which most acknowledge as his office, you felt yourself think of the many ways he could possibly question you— as well as all the ways you could retaliate and justify your fixation on this specific suspect. All of your defenses led to a dead end, but how exactly were you supposed to explain how Jake looks at you when he sees you falter? How his sharp, tinted brown eyes sparkle with a glimmer of amused smugness to it every time you found yourself searching for more clues in front of him? You know he did it. You know that he knows very well you're aware of that. Yet, he seemed to be enjoying the effort put in to prove your conclusions.

Arms crossed, your supervisor eyed you as you walked in and did your regular routine of a salute to your higher up, before he motioned you over to sit. Martin never was a person who gave much trouble, and that was an understanding that ran between the both of you, but that didn't mean he didn't have moments where he would be highly critical of your actions and decisions.

"Where are the final reports, (L/N)?" "I.." You pause, bracing yourself. "I don't have it. Yet." The older male sighed in response to your answer, rubbing the base of his temple while you shifted uncomfortably on the cushion-y seat, preparing yourself to hear the lecture that was incoming. "I assigned this file to you nearly 3 months ago, (Y/N), and you have nothing except a raging suspicion on this one guy who you can't even prove is the culprit we're looking for." He leaned onto the desk. "What happened? You were one of my best students. That's why I trusted you with this."

Oh, Jake Lockley is done for once you catch him again. You part your lips to say something, but the guilt of letting down such a placid and reasonable figure that was your superior was really starting to settle down. Had it been anyone else, you would have stubbornly defended yourself about how you were absolutely sure of your intuitions. But it was a war that you would not come out victorious from anyways; possibly hurting the respect Martin gives you was just an added loss.

"Be more attentive, (Y/N). I know how hard these tend to get but I've been having people show up and make a fuss about finding the culprit—probably some distant family of the victim and—"

"I'll have the reports down to you by Sunday." Martin spared a look of surprise, taken aback by the sudden tone of determination. It took you 3 months to make even the slightest of progress, yet you seemed positive that you'll manage to nail the report and hold the felon accountable within the matter of a day and a half. How were you supposed to do that?

You would've been a little more confident if you knew the answer to that question yourself.

Stripped out of the authoritarian uniform, You found yourself clutching onto your jacket as the cold autumn weather in the streets of London brushed against your skin. The night was young as always, and you wished there was time for you to go stargazing, laying under the bed of shining pricks in the dark blanket that was the night sky. Barely 8pm by then, you realized as you checked your watch, but the gloom of a midnight sky was already settling in. It was an uncomfortable feeling since you've rarely never gotten out all that much, for a stroll nonetheless, ever since you started working on the case, with the exemption of the travel from and to home to the station or vice versa.

And that would have been the fate of today, if it weren't for the fact that you were hunting down Jake Lockley. This time not with the help of a colleague, but by yourself as you hurried through the busy streets of the city. You were given the location to an apartment towards the north of town, which was presumed to be his address and where you were hoping to run into him for a talk. Not another interrogation, at least in his point of view, but you were aware that this case was far from salvageable with just mildly threatening questioning.

You watch as the neon sign of a convenience store just below the building your heading for shine brightly; stopping momentarily to check your phone and prepare before taking a sharp breath to turn the corner— to almost immediately run into a figure in the dark and brooding alleyway.

Despite the crescent moon towering above his frame, Jake's face was lit solely by the cigarette hooked between his fingers, revealing a familiar facial structure that you loathed. But, despite having strong emotions which can only be described as hatred, you did find him to be conventionally attractive, but that's just stating the obvious.

Another thing that you took to notice was his dark, slicked-back curls that almost stuck to his neck, carefully combed as to not to seem disheveled and obviously missing his signature cap. It was.. certainly a look. Something out of the ordinary, which made you wonder if you even were looking at the same person.

At the echo of your footsteps, it was destined to catch the attention of the male, who squinted at the sight of you, before a relaxed expression took over his stiff posture. At his notice, you paused just a few steps away from him, pondering where you're gonna begin— only for him to beat you to it. "'m afraid I can't make it to another questioning, officer." He sneered, but shrugging it off has almost been second nature to you at this point. "I have.. plans for later tonight, 'Can't spend that time rotting away at the station." "You're not being taken to the station, I just want to talk." You say firmly, To which Jake reacts with a raise of his brow, prompting you to continue. "Look." You shift your gaze away, sighing. "I might've been wrong about you, but I think you know something I don't. And if you know, anything, and I mean- anything on Arthur Harrow, I need you to tell me it. Now." Jake looked at you with not much change in his expression, but his hand brought the cigarette back to his lips as he leaned by the hood of the car, facing you. If you were any hopeful about Jake abiding by your commands, you would have said he was considering it, but the silence was becoming overbearing and you still needed to pitch your case.

"His family's been very active in trying to find the culprit and.. It's—"

"Mentirosos.." ("liars..") He grumbled lowly, but thanks to a pretty good sense of hearing, you were able to catch it.

"Pardon?" "Do you actually believe them?"

Jake's question did falter your figure for a moment, especially since his voice was a little bit more.. commanding. But it did send you back to really put your thought into it. Arthur's file and your personal research on his background did not list any names that may be dear to him, so who were those claiming to be his family? Maybe even friends? "Whoever they are, They're concerned, and I don't have any answers but I know that you know something." Jake chuckled. "So, You're desperate." You glare at him, but at the same time, you can't exactly deny his accusation. The only other reaction was the sequence of words you managed to grumble out. "Spill it, Lockley." The manner in which you spoke was dominant, commanding as you were beginning to be reminded of all the trouble Jake has given you. The cigarette that brightly burned between his rough fingers was left neglected until now, when he opted to drop it on the floor before the heel on his shoe extinguished the leftover flame within it in order to make his way towards you. You stood firm in your stance as he took light strolls towards your frame, with a light tilt of his head. You stand firm in your stance as he lightly strolls towards you, with a slight tilt of his head. "I know you're not just a pretty face, You'll figure it out eventually. Without my help." You were almost face to face now, standing parallel against each other, the eye contact unwavering between the two of you. As always. "I did figure it out. Either you did it, or you were involved; So if I'm asking you anything now, it's because you know what happened." "Why didn't you just take me in again?" "Because I wanted to talk to you. Not to the unbothered, innocent cab driver who I'm apparently tormenting." The corner of his lips couldn't help but curl just a little bit, as he stared down at you for a moment. Jake was quite unsure if you had anything incriminating against him, or whether you were going off pure instinct, but for you to be so stubborn about being right, you got to have been confident about something.

Jake's intense gaze bore into yours, a silent challenge passing between you two. Despite how lightly he seemed to take everything, The air grew thick with tension, and you found yourself fighting the urge to step back. His proximity was disarming, but you refused to let him see any vulnerability in the stance you put out. "And If I don't cooperate?"

"You're dancing on the edge, Lockley. One wrong move, and you'll find yourself in a place you won't enjoy."

You warned, your voice low and laced with a subtle threat in the off chance he did have any malicious thoughts. He was a unpredictable character, despite the many interactions you've had with him. Jake's laughter rumbled, low and deep, sending shivers down your spine.

"I've been on the edge my whole life, Cariño. It's where I operate best."

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, it seemed like the world around you faded away. The charged atmosphere crackled between you two, and neither was willing to back down.

The dimly lit alley provided a secret backdrop to your confrontation. The distant city sounds and the occasional flicker of a neon sign were the only witnesses to what was unfolding. Jake's hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"You're playing with fire being here, detective." he whispered, his lips dangerously close to your ear. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine.

Your heart raced, and for a split second, you forgot the reason you sought him out in the first place. The lines between rivalry and attraction blurred. The charismatic aura surrounding him was magnetic, and undoubtedly, you were drawn in. But perhaps, You could use this to your advantage.

"Maybe I prefer it that way with you." You retorted, your voice betraying a hint of defiance. You could feel the weight of his gaze, assessing, challenging. With a blink of your eye, you notice how close he is to you, your face nearly touching as his gaze bore into yours. It was hypnotizing, even if you were planning to play him entirely, your knees couldn't help but feel a little weak.

In a charged moment, the air crackling with unspoken tension, Jake closed the remaining distance between you. His lips met yours in a kiss that was both unexpected and electric. Time seemed to stand still as the world around you melted away, leaving only the sensation of his lips against yours.

The rhythm between the two of you was picked up almost immediately; led mainly by him, as he quickly dashed at the opportunity to deepen what already existed. Being amused as well as surprised, you allowed your hands to trail up his back with a smile, grazing along the rough fabric of his trench coat. Your hands didn't stick around there for long though, eventually finding it's way up to entangle itself in his astonishingly soft curls, earning a light moan of satisfaction from him.

With just a light push of your body weight onto his, you maneuvered him over to one of the stone walls that sandwiched the two of you in the alley, barely leaving any space for your lips to be left untouched. Back touching the wall in a firm grip, Jake's hands fell from cupping your face to having a rough hold on your waist, pulling you closer to the warm of his body in a mesmeric embrace.

"I didn't know you wanted me this badly, (L/N). Is this why you had me come in so often?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?" "With the way you're acting right now? Of course not." You engulf him in another bombardment of kisses, which he accepts greedily, like a man who's waited years to do this. If anything, It's almost like he wanted to hold you in such a way the moment he set his eyes on you. On second thoughts, Maybe that's why he's been obediently showing up every time he was summoned back at the room. Sly fuck. You separate for the second time, panting as you gently lay your hand on his chest, soaking in all of his perfect features. Amidst all the chaos of the case, the face you've seen almost once every week had way more to offer than you remembered. Whether that was his hooded eyes that loomed over his chocolate colored eyes, or his lips that glistened perfectly as he licked up the rest of your taste from the corners.

Perhaps you were lost a little too much in awe of his features, still breathless but unsure if everything was from the sudden fire of desire in your heart, or the intense make-out you just had with your suspect. "Harrow brought it upon himself." Jake murmured amidst his gasps to catch some air, giving into his temptation of giving you hints.

"What?"

"He's a cult leader."

Your nose crinkles at the information, brows knitting as you sunk in to the realization. Jake looked away for a moment, a clicking of his tongue could be heard as he cursed himself for just.. giving information to a police officer. Khonshu would probably eat his head for this later.

"So.. That means—"

"—The people bothering ya' at the station are his followers, and they're likely looking for me."

You were right, but you couldn't help but feel.. bad? Is that what that was? No, protectiveness, like you suddenly didn't want to give Jake's name away to the persistent visitors. But what if Jake is lying? He's still a conniving character. Maybe this is just justification for he has done. "They're looking for you.. so.. I was right.." "Felicidades, muñeca." ("Congrats, Doll.") Jake spoke with that same grin, but this time, with a clear admiration for your intelligence. It was hard holding back the same grin every time you accused him back at the interrogation room. "You got me."

To be elated or not, was the conflict that clouded your mind right then. This was it. Jake took the opportunity of your realization to swiftly move from under your grasp, knowing that sticking around would only trouble him more. Once again, He needed to disperse into the shadows of the night like the many times he's been completely caught, to go and only return when the dust had settled. Things were not as easy as that this time. Not when you were involved. "Wait." Before he could completely pull away, You held onto his arm, with a surprising amount of strength. With a slight struggle, Jake could've pushed you off and fled, but he didn't, pausing as he stared at you. You had a look that could only be identified as a mischievous plea, like you completely ignored everything he had just revealed. "Stay. I don't want us to be cut short." The male couldn't properly respond to that before you leaped at him once again, crashing your lips onto his with a more deeper passion. Your previous contacts were slow, yet this kiss bought in a new category of roughness that he could definitely get used to. His hands once again latched onto your body, admiring your sides while the same position was restored for a second time. The kisses from Jake were way more messier, his hands and lips trying to cover all of what it can reach in a restricted amount of time. He was hungry, and that's exactly where you wanted him. As he littered your jawline with sloppy pecks, you huffed in the stimulation as you felt his arms fall down and trace along your body. He was distracted in an effort to grasp at your rear, earning a soft grasp that escaped your lip at the sudden contact, which only bought a smirk of achievement in his features. In honest truth, all of Jake's little mannerisms when in almost full control of your body had butterflies fluttering in the pits of your stomach; heart racing while he maintained his pace in just driving you crazy. Though you promised yourself just a moment ago that you wouldn't falter, that pledge was getting way harder to keep with every passing second of indulging in him. On the other hand, Jake was enamored, savoring every sense of you he can get himself hooked on. Perhaps that was why he didn't notice how your hands brushed over his tight grip, pulling it away from the sides of your stomach or how there was mild jingle of something that echoed through the alley amidst their breathless pants of fervor. Click. Or maybe, He didn't notice how something restrained his hands together. No, that's a stretch. Pulling away from a kiss that he could have for an eternity more, his gaze fell the palm of his hands, sweeping down until it spotted the chained collars that strapped the two of his hands together. It didn't really take him long to recognize what it was. "Jake Lockley, You are hereby arrested for the murder of Arthur Harrow." Your cleverness of leaving him so vulnerable to you was undoubtedly smart, but that was an essence of your charm that Jake simply couldn't get enough of.

#jake lockely x reader #jake lockley x you #marc spector x reader #moon knight x you #steven grant x reader #moonknight x reader #steven grant x you #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x y/n #moon knight x y/n #fanfic #jake lockley #jake lockely x you #jake lockely imagine #moonknight #Moon knight

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seongminiz · 7 months

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hotdemonsummoner . com - kang minhee

minors dni ; demon dom!minhee x human sub!reader ; 2.4k words

warnings : fem reader , dubcon , not rlly proof read (thats my trademark atp) , reader is an idiot and a monsterfucker (just like me fr)(very mild monsterfucking btw bc he literally looks human with horns like ..) , crack-ish in the first half but i swear it gets smutty quick , minhee is kinda mean , spit (minhees spit works as an aphrodisiac ehegegheh), its just messy overall , unprotected sex , breeding but its not rlly breeding but ,, whatever , possessive minhee [pretends to be surprised] , manhandling , size kink , strength kink (reader is referred to fragile/small but its just in proportion to a literal demon n has nothing to do with how she looks !), oral (f receiving) , biting , marking , dumbification ? , praise , dacryphilia , minhee calls reader 'little human' (giggling kicking my feet) . hopefully i didnt forget anything

tagging my lovely @ajaxsbeloved hope u like this 🫶🏻

the warning list is ,,, long . it might be a little cringe but i literally give zero fucks‼️⁉️ but i do feel like the smut part kinda sucks but also it might be that im just sad while posting this n its affecting how i view my work idk ANYWAYS wrote this while i had a cold n then a mosquito bit me on the eye so any and all mistakes r bc of that real no clickbait . had so much fun writing this uhhh happy spooky season idk i want demon!minhee in a way that is concerning to feminism lesbianism and my gender identity amen

demon!minhee whom you not so accidentally summoned in your room one uneventful night.

you're bored to death. your favorite show hasn't had a new episode in weeks, all your friends are busy - studying for exams, working, on dates while you're sitting in your lonely bedroom, staring at the ceiling as if it'll solve all your problems in life.

you start considering it might be able to do that when, out of nowhere, you're reminded of the stupid website you visited a few days ago with your friend when she was sleeping over at your place. something about the occult, hot demons and summoning rituals. you grab your phone, opening an incognito tab and typing the link you somehow remember by heart (hotdemonsummoner.com? seriously?)

if this was a horror movie you'd probably be dead in the first ten minutes. you grab a pen, paper and a candle - the tutorial talked about multiple small ones, but you'll have to make do with the cinnamon scented ikea christmas candle that has been sitting on your desk for at the very least three years. and once you're done, you wait for the magic to happen.

five minutes later, there's no sign of any hot demon summoned instantly in your room. you're pretty sure- no, you're certain the problem was the candle. either that, or the site is complete bullshit, but you refuse to believe that. there's no other explanation, screw ikea and their stupid christmas candles.

you sigh, placing everything back where it belongs and letting yourself fall on the bed, picking up your phone just to be met once again by no notification, no nothing, just that stupid 'SUMMON A HOT DEMON INSTANTLY!' title in neon pink with a little devil gif floating right beside it, mockingly staring back at you.

that's when you see something from the corner of your eye, a shadow sliding across the wall. it's probably just the light outside hitting a tree weirdly and casting a creepy shadow, no big deal. but there's no trees outside your window, you're a broke college student who lives in a sad gray apartment complex in an equally sad and gray city.

you gather enough courage to look up from the screen of your phone, your eyes slowly adjusting from its blinding brightness to the darkness of your surroundings. at first you don't see anything, half tempted to turn your phone flashlight on. and then you make eye contact.

he looks just as confused as you are when he quite literally spawns in front of your bed. the normal human reaction would have probably been to scream, instead you just gasp in surprise, followed by a small 'oh.' as you look at him with wide eyes. he takes slow, calculated steps towards you and you have half a mind to hastily turn off your phone, hiding it under a pillow.

'what the fuck?' you say under your breath, studying his figure. if this isn't some extremely technologically advanced burglary and you're not having an expired candle fumes induced hallucination, then this is the demon you tried to summon. and he's actually hot, which means the website was not a scam and the candle is the problem. he seems to read your exclamation and general confusion as a question on why he's there. 'you summoned me.' he explains, taking yet another step towards you.

'no! wait! don't get close!' you order, your self defense weapon of choice being the pen you used to summon him. 'listen,' you start, raising your hands defensively 'i did not think the random summon a hot demon instantly tutorial i found on a sketchy website would actually... well, summon a hot demon instantly.' the creature - minhee, you don't know how you got his name, if he telepathically shared with you or what - raises an eyebrow, amusement clear on his face. 'so you think i'm hot?'

'no! i mean yes! but like not in a i want to fuck you way! just in a... you're an objectively beautiful man- demon, sorry, way...?' you can feel your body temperature rising, getting restless under his unwavering stare. and minhee can feel it too, he can hear the way your heartbeat hasn't calmed down for a second and he can see how your thighs have been clenched together ever since he appeared. his eyes linger for a few more seconds on them, observing the way your shorts ride up everytime you anxiously squirm under his gaze.

'so, little human, why would you want to summon a hot demon instantly? is there anything in particular you need from me?' the nickname has your stomach doing backflips, you swallow thickly before speaking 'will you steal my soul if i say yes? take it as a payment for whatever favor i may ask?' the demon laughs, leaning down so his face is just a breath away from yours. 'not really. i could make an exception for a pretty girl like you,' his eyes flicker to your lips for a split second, so fast you don't even notice it.

thing is, minhee usually does feed off of human souls, but there's something about you that's telling him to not do it just yet, wait it out and see how it goes. maybe he could feed off of something else, something he doesn't get to do that often nowadays. surprising, but the monsterfucker demographic - even the milder ones who would only ever go as far as fucking his semi-human form - is basically an endangered species nowadays.

before you can answer with what favor you actually need (not that you'd actually know what to ask.. what, were you going to offer him to play UNO or something?) minhee's hands are on top of your thighs, spreading them slightly as he presses his lips to yours. you shiver at the cold sensation of his skin, way too cold for a human, and minhee can hear your heartbeat quickening, as you weakly grab his wrists in a failed attempt to get him off of you - or at the very least slow down the process of whatever is going on.

minhee finds your fighting amusing, he knows no human could ever overpower him physically, let alone a little fragile thing like you, but he still indulges in giving you the small hope you could break free from his hold, just to take it away immediately after. one of his hands leaves your thigh to grab both of your wrists, pinning them over your head, the other one staying on your thigh, pushing it to spread even more as his thumb runs along the hem of your shorts.

his mouth is on you once again, and this time minhee forces his tongue past your lips - the tip of it is slightly pointed, not enough to actually hurt you in any way but enough to make you wonder what exactly it could do. you panic for a second, just for everything to slow down, your body relaxing under minhee as the arousal between your legs grows tenfold, you can feel your panties sticking to you and minhee doesn't give you an answer once you look up at him in confusion, your eyes welling up with tears. you can barely come up with a coherent sentence, 'wha- what did you do?' you manage to stutter out, every word getting harder to say as your mind slips, you don't even know where.

minhee's hand leaves your thigh, going to gently wipe the tears that started running down your cheeks. 'mh, that's interesting,' he says, more to himself than to you, fingers sliding down your face to lightly brush against your lips. 'i've used this on other humans before, but their reaction was never this strong.' you don't have time to ask what exactly 'this' is - you don't even know if you have the brain power to do it, really - as minhee forces your mouth open and spits in it. you gasp at his action, but still end up swallowing, your body shuddering with another wave of what could only be described as raw pleasure.

you don't know how he's doing that, but you feel pathetic, getting this horny over someone who hasn't even touched you yet shouldn't be normal. but, honestly, what exactly is normal about a demon appearing in your room and trying to fuck you?

your shorts have been discarded somewhere in your room, and your panties are quick to encounter the same fate - not before getting ripped off of you, to which you whine in disappointment, but minhee cuts you off saying something about you 'not needing them when you're with him' you don't really pay any mind to.

he takes his time with you, biting your thighs to the point you're sure you're bleeding, and then running his tongue along the small cuts he caused, letting whatever the obscure substance mixed with his spit is enter your bloodstream in a matter of seconds, reducing you to even more of an incoherent mess.

when minhee finally gets to eating you out, it all escalates far too quickly for your slowed down brain. for a second he's sucking on your clit, and then he's fucking you with his tongue, reaching spots a human could never dream to reach with their mouth alone. the stimulation is too much, your hands search for any kind of support, something you can grab onto, your fingers running through his hair and pulling slightly before minhee grabs your wrists, moving your hands to hold onto his horns instead and letting out a groan when you do so.

he works on you until you're on the brink of consciousness, until you've lost count of how many times you already came - around three, probably, but they feel like ten times that when each orgasm is more intense than the other and your perception of reality is fading with it. minhee notices it, ignoring your pleas about it being 'too much' and how u 'cant take more' and slipping two of his pretty slender fingers in your sopping cunt. you sob, shaking your head as you uselessly try to squirm away from his touch, subsiding to the unbearable pleasure just a few seconds later.

'already tired, little human? how are you going to take my cock if you can't last a few rounds with my tongue and fingers? maybe you don't want it that bad, then,' he's just fucking with you, deep down you know it, but the thought of minhee just leaving you like this after everything he's done is enough for you to desperately shake your head as you grab his free hand - a far too intimate gesture for this whole 'fucking a random demon you just summoned out of boredom' situation you've found yourself in - pulling him into yet another kiss that leaves the both of you breathless. you never knew it would happen in your lifetime, but you managed to make a demon, a being who doesn't need to breathe, breathless.

'is that convincing enough?' you whisper in a split second of lucidity, your mind and body already subsiding to the effects of his spit you might as well have grown addicted to, half tempted to kiss him again and only interrupted by minhee slowly slipping his fingers out of you. your complaints about it are short lived, so focused on the emptiness between your legs you don't realize minhee has pulled out his cock until his tip is pressing past your entrance.

the stretch is almost unbearable, despite all the time minhee spent overstimulating you he's still too big, and you tell him exactly that in an attempt to slow him down. it only feeds minhee's ego more, though, he chuckles as he pins your hips to the bed, telling you to 'stay fucking still and just take it,' forcing his whole size inside of u until he bottoms out. you've never felt this full, struggling to even breathe as the feeling of minhee inside of you overcomes all your senses.

minhee gives you no time to adjust to the way his cock is stretching you out, immediately thrusting into you and reaching even deeper. all your pleas for him to go slower fall to deaf years, quickly being replaced by the moans you're struggling to quiet down. it's not long before you're getting close again, still sensitive from all your previous orgasms.

'need to cum' you whine, your hips buck up to meet minhee's, feeling his tip hit spots you never knew existed. he chuckles, slowing his thrusts until a fresh wave of tears is filling your eyes at the idea of being denied of your release. 'you need to?' his tone is mocking, but you're so fucked out you can't notice it, quickly nodding 'yeah, need to cum all over your cock.' that's all it takes for minhee to pick up his pace again, aim even deeper than before and have you quickly approaching your high as you incoherently moan his name.

you feel like your soul has been ripped out of your body, gone through each and every layer of hell, and then put back where it belongs. your legs shake as minhee keeps mercilessly fucking you, mumbling something about how he's going to 'fill you up and keep you forever' that, even in your fucked out state, slightly alarms you, your hands pushing at his shoulders to no avail just to be once again pinned above your head.

minhee knows it's physically impossible for a demon to breed a human, and yet, the idea of somehow making you his through it sounds so appealing, as you sob in overstimulation and keep begging him to pull out. he might be aware of there being no consequences if he cums inside, but what would a human like you know? the way you squirm under him, trying to convince him to pull out is almost endearing.

'you're so well behaved, little human, it would be a shame to let all the results of your hard work go to waste, right?' you keep shaking your head, a high pitched moan leaving you as minhee finally cums deep inside of you, tightly pressed against your cervix to make sure you're marked by him, completely ruined for anyone else who'll ever try to fuck you.

minhee doesn't know why he did that, despite having no plans to keep you he still found himself desiring, needing to claim you as his little human. as he stills inside you, minhee thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might bring you 'back home' with him.

#🍰 seongminiz !#🧇 crvt !#i dont like the ending it feels rushed #aaaaa whatever lets just post this it took me a whole week to write #cravity hard hours #cravity smut #minhee hard hours #minhee smut

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fangirls-fanfiction · 5 days

Text

Chapter 18

♦️𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝♠️

Sorry it’s so short 😅

Stickler knocked on the Devil's office door, receiving no answer. No talking, no shuffling, not even a loud and dramatic groan the Devil usually does when the demon came within a 3 mile radius of her. Knocking again, Stickler tapped her foot as she waited impatiently for the Demon Queen to answer her door.

"Your majesty, may I have a word?" She asked.

Still nothing.

Now it was starting to get concerning. At this point, she expected her Boss to yell at her to leave it to complain loudly like a petulant child being told to do a chore. Even if Stickler enjoyed not hearing the Devil curse her name upon entering the room, it was still worrisome.

"Your Wretchedness? You may ignore me but I'm not leaving."

Still nothing.

Finally deciding to come back later, Stickler started towards the Hellevator to get back down stairs, but not before she heard commotion at the entrance if the Casino.

The Devil struggled to catch her breath as she seemed to have ran from somewhere— Where? Why knows. Finally catching her breath, she strutted through the Casino, glaring at Chips Bettigan slacking as usual.

"And here I thought not bringing my trident would be beneficial..." She muttered to herself, trying her attention to some papers she'd arrived at the Casino with.

"Your grace, may I have a word?" Stickler stood in front of her office door to ensure she had her complete attention.

"Not now, Stickler, I'm not in the mood."

"This will only take a moment, I wanted to ask— "

"I said not now. Now move it!"

Lucifer went to push Stickler out of the way, obviously forgetting a very crucial detail;

"Your majesty, I wouldn't— "

The Devil received a shock from the invisible sweater, making her drop the papers.

"OUCH!! YOU'RE STILL WEARING THAT DAMNED SWEATER?! WHY?!"

"With all due respect, I tried to warn you." Stickler attempted to help pick up the papers, the Devil snatching them before she even had a chance to look at them.

"What do you want, Stickler? I'm very busy, you know."

"I'm sure you're very busy." 'Fawning over that stupid girlfriend of yours.' She decided to leave that thought out, she was aware that while the Devil was unable to harm her as long as she wore the sweater, it wouldn't stop Queen Dice.

"I'd just like to know why you're not doing your job?"

"Collecting souls? That's what the Casino is for, idiot. Business has been booming!"

"I'm aware. I meant the rest of your job. Causing misery, solitude, pain and fear— All of which you were made for? That's your purpose on Earth is not?" Stickler looked up from her book to see the Devil mocking every word she said.

Upon making eye contact, the Devil cleared her throat and stopped.

"Life isn't all about work, Stickler. I've been busy is all." She seemed to hug the papers closer to her as she glanced at them. "I promise I'll start up again once these girls are... Taken care of."

"You've made plenty of empty promises throughout the years, Devil."

"Oh come on! Would I lie to you?"

"Most definitely."

"Awe come on!"

"I'll only be satisfied when your swear to it."

The Devil grumbled a few unkind words, rolling her eyes and she freed up one of her hands.

"Fine, I swear that I'll get back to work after I take care of the girls." She crossed her heart. "There now I can't break the promise. Happy now?"

"Well... I suppose... Just don't break the promise."

"Please, Stickler, you and I both know that if I try, I'll get shocked every day until I fulfill the promise."

"This is true, well if that's settled, I'll be on my way."

"Good riddance." Lucifer mumbled as Stickler got the the Hellevator.

Going straight into her office, she locked the door behind her. Setting the papers on her desk, the Devil signed them off as if they were contracts. Staring at the page, she frowned. Now, she had to make sure Dice was completely on board with it.

"Well, here goes nothing." She sighed, hoping Dice would be reasonable.

♠️ ♠️ ♠️

Taking just a little time to herself to freshen up, Queen Dice headed upstairs to start her shift at the Casino. With this newfound confidence in her relationship with her girlfriend, she was in a rather good mood. She should've known that Luci wouldn't treat her the way she did all those years ago, she promised after all. Dice found that Luci was surprisingly good at keeping promises for her, even before they got together.

The Hellevator door opened just before Dice got to it, and she barely held back an eyeroll as Stickler exited the elevator.

"Afternoon Miss Dice."

"Hello, Stickler." She glared at the imp as she headed down the corridor. "Hope she didn't put the Boss in a bad mood." She mumbled, closing the Hellevator door.

Queen Dice hummed as she rode the Hellevator up to the Casino. Of course, she was late for work, but her Boss would obviously be understanding. As the Hellevator doors opened, she straightened out her jacket to make sure she looked her best before scamming sinners. What she wasn't expecting was a jump scare;

"Are you busy right now?" Luci stood right in front of the Hellevator doors.

"AHH— BOSS!!" Dice screamed. "What the Hell?!"

"Sorry…" Luci scratched the back of her neck.

"It’s… Whatever. What is it? I need to get to work."

"I... I need to show you something."

"Can it wait?"

"N— No... It's— It's really important."

Queen Dice opened her mouth to protest, Luci giving her the very best puppy eyes.

"Ok."

"Great! Thank you! I promise it'll only take a minute."

The Devil took Dice by the hand, leading her to her office. Closing the door, she locked it and went to her desk.

"Uhm, Boss... Why'd you lock the door...?"

"So no one could come in, duh."

"R— Right..." Queen Dice tugged at her collar.

"Relax, Dice, I just don't want anyone to see this." The demon motioned her to the desk.

"See what—?" Queen Dice saw the papers on her desk, gasping loudly. "You're serious?"

"Yes...? Do you think it's a good idea."

"It's a great idea, Luci." Dice placed a kiss on her cheek.

Lucifer slowly turned to look at Dice blinking as a big, goofy smile appeared on her face. Giggling like a goon, she pulled Dice in for a hug, scattering a bunch of little kisses all over her face.

“Oh, I love you, Dice.”

“I love you too, Luci.”

They sat there in silence, embracing one another for just a moment. With the muffled sounds of the Casino right outside the door, they found it rather tranquil to just enjoy a little time together in peace.

Opening her eye, however, Queen Dice cleared her throat, glancing at the door.

“I really should get to work.”

“In a minute…” Lucifer sighed.

“Ok, just a minute.”

“Ten minutes?”

“Sure.”

“Twenty?”

“Boss.”

“Ok, ok, ten.”

♣️ ♣️ ♣️

If Henchwoman was honest, she wasn’t sure how much she trusted the girls to keep her secret from her Boss. She herself had trouble keeping it to herself, nevermind two seventeen year olds that— Now that she thought about it— Didn’t know very well. Perhaps she was simply just being too hard on the sisters, but the last thing that she wanted was for her Boss to find out.

Walking down the hall to her Boss’ office, she knocked on the door, hearing not only the Devil’s voice but Queen Dice’s voice.

“Go away, Stickler!”

“You don’t know if it’s Stickler, dear.”

A few seconds later, the door unlocked and opened.

“D’uh, Boss…? If ya don’t mind me askin… Why was the door locked?” Henchwoman asked.

“So people couldn’t get in, duh.” The Devil placed a hand on her hip, as if it were obvious.

“Uh……Huh…” Henchwoman nodded.

“Well, I should get to work,” Queen Dice said, kissing Luci’s cheek. “See you soon, Luci.”

Apparently jealousy wasn’t reserved just for the worst demons, as Henchwoman frowned slightly as Dice walked away. Though she reminded herself that being jealous of her wouldn’t do a thing about this situation, besides make it worse.

“Oh, is it tea time already?! Come on in!”

“You’re in a good mood.” Henchwoman commented, pushing the cart in the demon’s office.

“Oh, you have no idea. I can’t wait to tell you all about it!”

#fanfiction #welcome back to the casino au #cuphead au #humanized au #genderbend #the devil cuphead #luci morningstar #queen dice #devildice #henchwoman #cuphead stickler #tw swearing

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almanacrat · 2 years

Text

Holier Than Thou (Part 2)

Eddie Munson x femReader

Warnings: Swearing, religious trauma, bullying

The bell had rung ten minutes ago, and Eddie still had not shown up to class. Y/n sighed softly to herself, continuing to work on the project. She felt foolish for believing Eddie when he said he would be in class. She should have known that he would have left all the work to her, using her knowledge and kindness to get a better grade in the class.

Y/n flipped through the notecards.

Robert Boyle was born in 1627.

Robert Boyle studied air pressure and created a type of vacuum experiment.

Robert Boyle was invited to Oxford in 1654 to share his studies.

Robert Boyle is regarded as one of the first scientists to study chemistry.

Y/n grabbed her pen and began to jot down a few more notes that she thought might be important to the project. Her hand moved quickly, ready to move on to the next step.

“Starting without me?” A deep voice said. Y/n’s head snapped toward the voice, finding it to belong to Eddie. Her heart rose with relief, now seeing that he hadn't abandoned her.

“I didn't think you were coming.” Y/n admitted, fidgeting with her hands.

“I wouldn't miss it for the world.” Eddie replied, causing Y/n to chuckle lightly. “So, what are we doing today?”

“I’m just adding a few additional notecards. I was thinking that we could split the presentation fifty-fifty.”

“I’m cool with that. Are you thinking we’ll alternate speaking or one of us goes first and the other last.” Eddie flipped nonchalantly through the notecards, pretending to read a few.

“Oh- I, uh... I hadn't thought of that. I guess we can just alternate. Unless you want it the other way.”

“I like alternating. Hey, I brought you something.” Eddie rustled through his cluttered backpack, papers shuffling around as he pulled out a cassette tape. The lopsided label read: Greatest Gospel Hits. The little black cassette seemed harmless enough, but Y/n wasn't sure why Eddie had brought it to her.

“What’s this for?” Y/n asked, examining the object in her hand.

“I thought you might like it. It’s not what it looks like though. Here, listen.” Eddie slipped the headphones over her ears, clicking play. The music started to play and Y/n recognized the tune instantly; Highway to Hell. She smiled up at him as she took off the headphones, handing them back to him.

“I took a label from one of my grandma's cassettes and swapped them so your dad wouldn't find out.”

“Thanks, Eddie. I can't keep it though. My dad would totally freak out if he knew I was listening to this stuff.”

“Just keep it for the night. If you don't want to keep it you can bring it back to me.” He pushed the headphones and cassette back toward her.

“Okay.” Y/n didn't argue. After all, she did want to keep it.

“So what does your dad say about this music anyway?” Eddie inquired, curious to know just what made this music forbidden in Y/n’s household.

“He says it’s the devil’s way of infiltrating our minds. It promotes violence and sin.” Y/n spoke hesitantly.

“And do you believe that?”

“I don't think so. I want to because I know my dad wants me to, and he’s so convincing about stuff like that, but I just... can't.” Y/n avoided eye contact with Eddie. She had never been that open about not believing her father.

“Why can't you? I’m not saying I believe that stuff but the song is literally called Highway to Hell.”

“I can't because it makes me happy. When I hear really good music like that it makes my heart race and it gives me chill bumps. I just don't see how art like that can be the devil’s work. And as far as the violence thing goes, I don't think he’s right about that either. I mean, a lot of the people that listen to that kind of music look pretty tough but they aren't all violent. Look at you, for example. You listen to this stuff but you’re not violent at all, you’re really nice.” Y/n ranted, though she kept her voice low.

“You think I’m nice?” Eddie was taken aback. He didn't expect the preacher’s daughter to describe him as nice.

“Of course. Why are you so surprised?”

“I’ve been suspended so many times and I always get into trouble. And I'm not really in with the popular crowd. I’m just used to people thinking I’m a...” Eddie trailed off, not wanting to say it.

“A freak?” Y/n asked gently.

“Yeah.” Eddie muttered, hanging his head and playing with his rings.

“You’re not a freak, Eddie. And just because you get suspended doesn't mean you’re a bad person. You’ve been way nicer to me than the Hawkins High royalty has. Jason Carver would've never given me a ride home, much less sneak me an ACDC cassette disguised as gospel music.”

“I guess you're right. I’m way cooler than Jason Carver.” Eddie said, making Y/n laugh.

“Hey, preacher’s kid.” Chris Whitlock cornered Y/n at her locker after the last class of the day. Chris was Jason Carver’s best friend and the captain of the baseball team, as well as being on the basketball team.

“Please don't call me that.” Y/n was tired of being called the preacher’s kid, especially when it was the only thing people knew about her.

“I’ll stop it if you help me out with that English homework.” He smiled, trying to appear friendly.

“No, Chris. I’m not doing your homework for you.”

“Why not? It’s not like you have anything to do after school. We all know you don't have anyone to hang out with.” Chris began to get angry, his smile dropping to a frown as his eyes glazed over with frustration.

“Leave me alone. I’m not doing it.”

“You fucking prude. What’s the big deal? You never step out of line, do you. You always act like little miss perfect, but I know you’re hiding something, you fucking bitch.” Chris shoved Y/n against the locker, her body shuddering from the impact. A small crowd had begun to collect around them, yet nobody stepped between them. Whispers and gossip were filling the stale air of the hallway as onlookers started talking.

In an instant, Chris was shoved off of her and into the lockers. It was Eddie.

“Get off her!” Eddie shouted.

“This doesn't concern you, Munson. Get out of here.” Chris argued, struggling against Eddie’s grasp.

“You leave her the hell alone. I don't ever want to see you bothering her again, you hear me?” Eddie raged, slowly releasing Chris from his spot against the lockers. Christ stumbled away from him but still stood in the hallway trying to regain his composure.

“Yeah, I hear you... freak!” Chris shouted the last word.

At this prompt, Eddie lunged forward and swung his fist, hitting Chris squarely in the jaw and knocking him to the ground. Before he could get up, Eddie loomed over him and planted his heavy boot on his chest.

“Watch your mouth.” Eddie commanded, then turned away, taking Y/n by the arm and bringing her with him.

Y/n didn't say a word as they rounded the corner, too shocked to speak. She couldn't believe that Eddie had just done that. It wasn't out of character for him at all, but it was a side of him she had never seen up close. Eddie came to a stop in an empty classroom, still breathing heavily and obviously upset.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked, cupping Y/n’s jaw with his hand and examining her face and neck for any bruises or scrapes.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just shaken up.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I promise it wasn't the music I listen to that made me do it.” Eddie smiled, trying to cheer Y/n up. She smiled at him, but still couldn't take her mind off the recent event.

“Eddie, your hand.” Y/n exclaimed when she noticed the blood on his knuckles, taking his hand in hers and inspecting it.

“It’s fine. Nothing I haven't dealt with before.” Eddie tried to reassure her.

“Come on.” Y/n said, hopping off the desk she sat on and walking away.

“Where are you going?” Eddie followed her out of the classroom, jogging a few strides to catch up with her.

“We’re going to clean your hand up.”

“You don't have to do this.”

“You didn't have to punch Chris, but you did.” Y/n replied as she opened the door to the bathroom and turning on the faucet.

“It’s fine, Y/n. It’s not as bad as it looks.” Eddie continued to argue.

“Just shut up and let me fix it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Eddie smirked, intrigued by this new side of her.

Y/n gently washed the blood off of his hand, rinsing it under the warm water. She reached for the first aid kit that sat in the corner of the room, mostly unused. Eddie watched as she unzipped it and took out a roll of bandages. He was mesmerized by the way she wrapped it tenderly, afraid of hurting him.

“Thanks, doctor. I feel all better.” Eddie looked over his newly wrapped hand.

“Don’t get into anymore fights today, okay?”

“I suppose I can do that. Only for today though, right?”

“You’re killing me, Eddie. You better not have any fights planned.”

“I have so many fights planned. I’ve got one at noon tomorrow, then one on Friday that I absolutely cannot miss, and two more on Saturday.”

This made Y/n laugh. Eddie was certainly funny, if nothing else. His antics always left her amused and it made her feel like she had someone in her corner.

“I need to go now, Eddie. I’ll see you tomorrow. If you decide to show up.” Y/n said, looking into his deep brown eyes.

“I’ll think about showing up. Being here three days in a row might ruin my reputation.” Eddie chuckled.

Author’s Note:

If you guys want me to start a tag list let me know. I do plan on making a part three.

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things season four #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson drabble #eddie stranger things #stranger things imagine

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nami-lvr · 1 year

Text

Correct OP: Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Ft: Shanks, Law, Ace, Sabo, Marco, Smoker, and princess Vivi

A/N: I love everyone on this list like for real come kiss me Vivi 🙁🙁 SHANKS TOO. HE IS SO FINE. SO IS ACE. LIKE GYYYYYAT!! Next part is Enel, Katakuri, Big Mom, Kidd, Arlong, and Yamato (last part)

Shanks

Loud ass snoring

Does not care

Aaabsolutley pulls bitches

Marines or not marines

Paints his nails the brightest most noticeable colors

Bright yellow

Hot pink

Neon green

Absolutely outstanding father

10/10 dad

The one you call to get drunk or high or cross faded with

Would deal his kids weed to make sure they stay safe

Would also give alcohol recommendations

all when they’re legally allowed ofc

Law

Definitely

A lil fruitcake

Sorry to all Law simps but he is AroAce and atp it’s cannon

Would not be into romance at all

Ever

He would definitely read gay dirty books though

“I WAS JUST CURIOUS-“

Boooo lame excuse

Ok gay ass 🥸

Would dress like a teen boy trying to be cool

Would be an outstanding father if he ever had kids

Would be so into Star Trek not even joking

Speaking Klingon and allat

Stoner

WEED SMOKER

Is a Math/Science kinda smart guy

Ace

I do not give a single shit what this GIF looks like

Ace has a hooked nose

And crooked teeth

And heterochromia

One green eye one brown eye type shit

Is color blind

The green and red kind

Can not drive

Do not let him behind the wheel

Please

Got that greasy hair

That unwashed stench

Overgrown armpit hair

Has a forest under there

A REALLY GOOD LOOKING HAPPY TRAIL ☹️☹️

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW GOOD HIS HAPPY TRAIL LOOKS I SWEAR TO YOU

Sabo

This motherfucker is inSANE

Bro needs to go back to the mental health institution

Has a gold tooth

Has cologne on always

And it smells so good

Doesn’t brush his hair

But its fine bc he really pulls off the messy look

Tried to grow a beard and it did not look good

Is very organized

Is insecure about his scars

(Secretly) looks at guys

Not so secretly looks at girls

Is definitely bisexual

TRANSGENDER

Choked on the devil fruit when he ate it

Messy eater

CROOKED NOSE

It’s basically facts that the ASL brothers have crooked noses

Except for Ace with his hooked nose

Can speak Spanish but not Portuguese

Loser can’t speak the language he grew up around 💀💀

Marco

Just GET A DIFFERENT BARBER GYAT DAMN 😭😭

At least get a fade

Has male pattern baldness

Knows his hair is bad (doesn’t care)

Has cavities

Doesn’t floss

Does not wear deodorant

would definitely dress grungy

And or punk

And have a mohawk sometimes ;p

And think he’s the shit

When he needs to fix that GODDAMN HAIR

He would be gay

Oh my god how gay he would be

Has SEX

This guy FUCKS

Idk how but I feel like he pulls some major bitches

Smoker

TBH I would fuck him and I’m literally asexual

So yk this dude is getting it on

Has tried to smoke 20 cigars at once

Succeeded somehow

Type of guy to say “I bet five dollars that___” and always lose

But does it anyways

GOD at rock paper scissors

You may win the first time you play him, but that’s because he’s watching your tactics

Sneaky little bastard

Straight and Cis but fully supports the LGBTQIA+

“They don’t bother me, and even if a queer person did bother me, it would only be that specific one. Not all of them.”

It makes no sense how people get bullied for things they can’t control

Very stand up kinda guy

Beats up bullies type of fella

Princess Vivi

She is so fine istg

She would for sure pull

Would have an unbelievably dark past by age 30

God of never have I ever

Would just own everyone in it

The coolest backstory

Paints her nails to match her hair

Looks really good in modest dresses

She’s Hispanic

Not sorry

For real she is

I think she would really like cats

Keeps in contact with the strawhats

Buys them things and all that

Gives them supply crates like food and fresh ingredients

Really likes working with kids

Would be an amazing and patient teacher

Would have a really good singing voice

Looks absolutely amazing in white

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icefrozendeadlyqueen · 1 year

Text

Expectations: Chapter 5 - Sisters

Word Count: 1450

Summary: Are we just pawns, is that it? Villains, Heroes or Lucky? Right.

~~~~XXX~~~~

Thursday, July, 27. New Character's POV. Ashley High School: Building 4: Floor 4. 2:45 pm.

Flashback.

It was good back then life was perfect.

We meant everything to each other. No matter what we had each other's backs.

We were sisters that selected each other to be with forever than anyone else. That was our truth. That was our past and that will be our future.

No matter if one of us has been sent away. Away from our reach.

We will persevere even now. We will never leave one of us behind. We will always protect each other. That's the key to our small group.

Sisters. Us above anyone else. No matter what. No matter who. No matter when.

WE will ALWAYS be there for each other.

End of Flashback.

A sigh escapes my lips as I read through my English paper about some villain that cause the destruction of a city. How was the city name... again? Sokovia? Sokokia? Sovokia? meh. I don't particularly care. Last time, I check I don't care about much but certain people. This school has never brought me luck in any way. They have instead taken a lot from me. Many things that I care so much about, so I'll return the favor and give them hell.

I walk into the hell of a room I have to be for the rest of the day. Mr. Polanco glances at me as if I am the devil in disguise. Actually, I am the most self-efficient girl that comes to this class. I do what I have to do except this paper. I waited to the last minute to do it. I am handing it a few days before the dateline. He always says I have my histories mixed in a shit load of fantasy. First of all, It's not my fault I am able to know stuff around here. I have connections, and I know people that have gone to other alternative universes.

Also, he doesn't seem to trust my family. Us Blackwell's get stereotyped a lot of times in one week. I love it. It's my source of amusement as of now I am just figuring it out what else they are going to say. Ashley High School is truly marvelous, right? They are heroes but will gossip just as bad. They'll make sure you are known. They'll categorize you as the worst, so it's just right you become the thing they hate... Amazing.

They are all waiting for my siblings & I to go crazy; however, we are not going to give them the last laugh. That's not something I was made to do. You win just as much when you don't let them get to you. An unfair fight it seems, but no one will take that risk than just you. No one can't save you from your own demons. That's something only you can do. That's why. I am pretty laid back. Nothing can make me regret my days except coming into this class.

"Look, who decided to join us", blurts Mr. Polanco as he glares at me from his desk. I walk straight towards his desk. I didn't even waste time looking around the room is not like I have an interest to know who's in class today. Mr. Polanco palms were on his legs while he sees the paper I left on his desk. I roll my eyes turning around to go up the stairs to my table. Mr. Polanco coughs, "This paper is late. I am not going to accept it". I stop in my tracks brushing blonde locks from my eyes. A couple of swearing wanted to slip from my lips; however, I take a deep breath before turning around.

"Excuse me? It's an essay, Polanco". I reply with a hint of attitude on my words.

"I am not taking it. Go give it to Mr. Walls. You are late anyhow". He blurts out throwing my paper on the floor in front of his desk. I take another breath as the room of students around me glance my way. The thought of bursting his head crossed my mind, but I hold in the desire to know how much radiation Mr. Polanco can take. I would love to do an experiment just on that. I glance at the virtual clock on the left wall that shows I am early.

"Class starts at 3 pm. It's 2:50 pm. How am I late?".

"Do not race your voice to me, young lady!". The room looks at Mr. Polanco as his palm makes contact with his desk. I glare daggers at him holding back, "You have no authority to scream at me! Take that piece of paper to Mr. Wall. Get. Out. Of. My. Classroom. Go with your own kind". I hold my palms into a fist feeling my whole body growing upset.

He has no reason to treat me this way. I didn't even look at him the wrong way. I'm so tired of his bs.

A bright light form on my palms as I glance at Mr. Polando, "Would you repeat that again? Do we have to go through this every day, Polanco? Do you really want to go there?". A sick smile on my lips, while I walk towards, his desk. He moves back from his desk stepping back as much as I walk closer to him, "Look! Willow is nothing personal! The students! You know.. they don't particularly like you". I roll my eyes at his excuse to save his skin, "So you would blame them instead?".

"Tha-at's n-not i-it". He tries so hard to speak, but he sucks so bad at it, "Not, what? What is it, Polanco? It looks to me that you would put them first to save your skin". I lower down taking my essay from the floor with my free hand. Mr. Polanco jumps back when I move to his desk cabinets, "I hear that you keep everyone's phones here". I take the cabinet on my way out without waiting for him to answer me. A deep sigh is all it took for my powers to disappear. I resume walking with a thought on my mind.

How the hell would I make it to, Mr. Walls on time?

~x~

Thursday, July, 27. New Character's POV. Ashley High School: Mr. Walls - Class of Misfits. Building 10 - Underground. 5:30 pm.

"Comet", Comet looks up from glancing at her nails, "What is it, Dopsy?".

"Is that Warren Worthington the 3rd?". Comet glances around the room locking eyes with a sky blue. Comet rolls her eyes then looks back at Dopsy, "Nah, probably a want to be Angel. We have so many of those now. I am not impressed anymore". Dopsy nods going back to her notebook to finish some Math homework she hasn't done yet. Comet sighs hoping something happens that brings life into the room. Comet is bored out of her mind, "Hello".

Warren stands in front of Comet's table. A charming smile on his lips while Comet rolls her eyes, "Look, pretty boy. Those techniques you used so often around Ashley's will not affect me. I have seen a ton of boys try their luck. Also, I have taken the pleasure to brutally humiliate them without mercy". Comet leans back in her chair with an evil grin forming on her lips. Warren thinks through Comet's warning before placing his palms on her table. A glare that could possibly scar most teenage boys is given to Warren. He didn't move an inch. He stands his ground smiling towards Comet, "I'll take that into account, Miss...".

Dopsy stares at Warren's effort of trying to gain Comet's last name. Everyone in the room waited for Warren to be eaten alive and thrown out. It never happens only for Comet to shrug him off, "Leave. You are boring me". Warren smiles towards Comet just as Mr. Walls calls for everyone to take a seat. He glances back at Comet, "You are on luck". Comet glares at Warren standing from her seat. Warren gains a punch to the gut by Comet herself. She holds onto his shoulders with her left hand. She drags him away from her table as she softly whispers in his ears, "Don't think you can directly look at me. Don't ever do that". She lets go of him walking back to her chair.

There is not much care in the world... I am not going to become the exception. I don't care.

#Avengers #Avenger #The Avengers #avenger fanfiction #Expectations #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fictions

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secretsofblackthornhall · 2 years

Text

Emma to Bruce

Dear Bruce,

It’s tea time. Now that Jules and I are living in England we are trying to embrace the concept of tea time, though as you already know I prefer to take my caffeine in the form of chocolate. (Unlike Cristina, who is literally addicted to coffee.) Chocolate chip cookies, brownie bars, ice cream—any form of chocolate is welcome and acceptable, and there is excellent chocolate in England. I have become addicted to Galaxy bars.

Julian is outside talking to the contractors — I can see Round Tom waving his arms around about something — so I thought I’d take a moment to fill you in on what happened since my last entry.

If you recall, we found a silver flask at the Devil Tavern that seemed to set off all Ty’s Ghost Detector alarms. It was a beautiful flask . . . etched with flowers and butterfly wings, and the initials MF. We brought it back to Blackthorn Hall and had a look at it in the bright light of day, where I immediately remembered where I’d seen that butterfly design before.

On the Fairchild family ring.

I know this because of Clary. (I don’t spend a lot of time staring at her jewelry, Bruce, but Shadowhunters are pretty into family symbols, generally speaking. And there was that time I borrowed her jacket in Faerie and then went to Thule and everyone thought she was dead because her ring was in the pocket…but that’s a story for another time. I’ve got enough to document in the present.) So Jules and I agreed that whoever owned this flask was likely a Fairchild whose first name began with M. Genius-level Sherlock detecting, I know.

Over a lunch of toasted cheese sandwiches we decided it would be better to do a little more diligent research rather than diving right in and asking the ghost ARE YOU A FAIRCHILD, Y/N. So we sent a fire message to Helen and Aline. There are several old Shadowhunter family histories in the LA Institute library, and we asked them to have a look for Fairchilds who had first names beginning with the letter M. I guess Helen was up early, because she got back to us pretty quickly with a short list of candidates. Medea Fairchild, Myles Fairchild, and Matthew Fairchild. It wasn’t clear from the records whether any of them are ancestors of Clary, but I am curious! (I personally hope Medea is, because that is a badass mythological name.) Anyway it didn’t take us long to nominate a candidate for Owner of the Silver Flask. (Drumroll, please, Bruce.) The candidate is….Matthew Fairchild!

We deduced this because Medea died in 1802 at the age of seventy-eight, and Myles died in 1857 at fifty-nine. So, given the timeframe we’re looking at—Jem said his friends were hanging out at the Devil Tavern during the early part of the last century—Matthew, born in 1886, was the only one who fit the bill. (There wasn’t a death date for him, apparently, which doesn’t mean he lived forever or died at birth, records from around that time tend to be spotty.)

Without further ado, we returned to the dining room to contact our mystery ghost. I swear, even though we’ve swept it multiple times, that room just seems to get dustier and dustier. I’d left some papers from the Blackthorn archives (which is a kind way of saying “from the pile of junk with occasional interesting stuff in it”) stacked on the dining table, and they were all in disarray. It made me wonder if the ghost was trying to read them in our absence.

Julian cleared his throat. “Attention, ghost,” he began.

“Maybe they don’t like being called ‘ghost’,” I hissed under my breath. “Maybe we should refer to them as ‘Deceased Person.’”

“That sounds medical,” said Julian. “Like we’re in a morgue.”

We both became dispirited about the idea of being in a morgue. After a moment’s thought, Julian said, “How about wraith or phantom?”

The curtains stirred even though the windows weren’t open. Apparently phantom was the popular choice.

“Matthew?” I said, slowly. “Matthew Fairchild?”

It’s a nice name, Matthew. I thought about Matthew Fairchild, born in 1886, and wondered what he’d been like. Wondered if all that was left of him was a breath of air stirring the curtains in our dining room.

Though the curtains weren’t stirring right now. They were utterly still.

“Are you Matthew Fairchild?” Jules asked, clearly deciding we needed to be more specific.

The curtains gave what I can only describe as an annoyed little shake. This stirred up some more dust, which made the air hazy. I heard a noise behind me and whirled around. The stack of papers on the table tipped over. Papers were being flung in all directions, by an unseen, angry hand.

“So — you’re not Matthew Fairchild?” I said, fighting the urge to sneeze. “Look, it’s fine if you aren’t — we just want to help — we’ll keep looking —”

The papers stopped flying. The room was quiet again. Hushed, even, like the inside of an Institute. I guessed our phantom friend had departed and I realized I was disappointed. I’d really been hoping we’d find an answer . . .

Then Julian laid his hand on my arm. And pointed. Goosebumps exploded across my skin. In the dust on the floor, an invisible finger was writing words — writing in the old-fashioned cursive that had become familiar since our arrival at Blackthorn Hall.

One by the one, the words appeared, the letters shaky and spiky, as if the ghost were agitated.

Read the diary

The imagine of Tatiana’s diary sprang into my mind. I knew, somehow, that was the diary the ghost was referring to. More words appeared:

READ THE DIARY

“But I have,” I said, without thinking. “I have read the diary.”

Julian turned to look at me, a blank expression of surprise spreading across his face. “Emma,” he said. “What diary?”

#secrets of blackthorn hall #sobh #emma carstairs #bruce #ghosts #julian blackthorn #matthew fairchild

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lexiawrittings · 3 years

Text

The Compromise. I

PAIRING.

Dark!CEO!Steve Rogers x Reader.

SUMMARY.

Wealthy CEO, Steve Rogers is a businessman before everything. All he ever wanted is to be the best, richest and smartest, owning all the finest companies. His priority: be better in affairs than his father.

But when a huge opportunity is offered to him, Steve would do anything in his power to seize it. And he’s ready to make a sweet and dangerous deal with you. Even though you are not willing to make a compromise with him.

A/N.

Political Relationship/Marriage? AU. Dark AU.

This is DARK. ANGST (i’m sorry) & SMUT (explicit sexual content) +18. Breeding Kink - sort of... Non-Con & Dub-Con. Mentions of Political Marriage. Mentions of Relationship/Marriage of Convenience. Swearing.

Here it is. One of my favorite story. Hopefully you will enjoyed it too. As always, thank you very much for reading! Don’t hesitate to leave your thoughts, comments, and feedback. (sorry for the layout at then, bugs from Tumblr)

A lots of Love! Lex!xxx

P.S: Gif is not mine, credits to the owner and maker.

WORDS.2942ish.

°°°

Being the assistant of the wealthy, arrogant, sexy Steve Rogers has its perks. Your income was very high so you could buy anything you ever wanted. You could use his name anytime you wished to impress your relatives, or friends when they were visiting you for booking the best tables in the greatest and luxurious restaurants in Manhattan. And, one of the greatest benefits of them all was that you could have the best sex you ever had with this gorgeous man. It was one of his “arrangements“ with you. Every once in a while, Steve Rogers, solemn and clever, needed a release from his stressful business life. He was the one who decided the when and where without any confirmation on your part. He just scheduled the meeting in your daily calendar like it was one of his business luncheon. And you showed up.

That’s why, on this Saturday evening you were, naked, sweaty, and panting hard under his muscular chest. Steve was thrusting into you, again and again, hitting the soft delicious spot inside your pussy. You clenched his thick cock once, biting your lips watching him grunted.

“ Baby! “ Steve moaned, still moving above you. He descended one hand caressing your skin stopping between your thighs. The blond man started to stroke your clit with his fingers, urgently. “ Come for me. ” He whispered his red mouth still wet from your previous orgasm. “ Come all around me.“

The bed was creaking with your movement in his darkroom. You were pressed into the mattress, feeling your climax coming once again deep inside your core. Steve pushed harder inside of you, feeling you were almost there. You grazed his smooth back with your nails arching your back as you reached your peak, deliciously hot and blissful. You whimpered, squeezing him hard. Steve swore under his breath, putting his head into the crook of your neck, he came in a low and deep groan, his hips jerking at each spasm, his cock throbbing inside of you. You breathed hard under him, softly kissing his shoulder. Your eyelids were heavy from tiredness but you felt euphoric. His hot breath was fanning your neck, his sweaty chest was against your naked breast. Steve swallowed as he braced himself from you, one hand next to your head the other stroking softly your clit making you shiver. He took himself out, looking at you, he frowned, concentrating.

“ Did you send the fiscal papers to the Financial Department? “ He asked a bit out of breath. His head was clear and turned into business mode.

You nodded once. You didn't know how after all of the sex, he could still think about work.

“ And did you send the e-mail to Stark? The one with the new numbers? “ He continued his voice hoarse.

You nodded again, confused. Because his voice was CEOish but his hand on your stomach was gentle.

“ Good. “ Steve replied.

He licked his lips humming his approval as he tasted your sweet juice on his tongue. He smirked seeing your eyes darkened from the sight closely watching him, but he pushed his body away from you and get up on the steady ground of his bedroom’s floor. He started to walked toward his bathroom, naked like the day he was born.

“ Monday I have a meeting with Wilson & Barnes, don’t forget to buy the beverage, Miss Smith. “ He informed you, his back, turned to you. You could saw the long scratch of your nails on his skin.

You sighed, watching him closed the door of the bathroom. It was back to Miss Smith again. It wasn’t your last name, but Steve Rogers wasn’t the greatest of the boss. And if he used this name it meant that your night together was over and it was the time for you to go home. It was your deal between the two of you since you started to work at Rogers Inc. You were the best assistant ever, he was a jerk and arrogant boss, and sometimes the two of you will meet, preferably in his apartment, and had sex. Just wild and sensual sex, with no feeling and attachment. For him for sure. But for you, it was difficult each day to fool you that you haven’t any feelings, for him. You were lost, one part of you liked the tender man, he was sometimes. And another part of you was scared of how harsh, brutal, and dark he could be when he wanted something.

°°°

“ I heard Rumlow is on the market again, trying to buy Stark Industries. “ James Buchanan Barnes stated, smiling behind his hand, watching his best friend getting angrier at the information. “ Even though he filed for bankruptcy last year, the word in the street is that a private investor gave him the money to buy one of the biggest companies in the world.” “ I don’t believe this lie, Buck’. “ Steve told him completely annoyed that his oldest rival/enemy was back in the game. “ I am the one who will buy Stark’s company. Tony trusts me. “ He continued, turning his chair back to the men to watch the biggest and tallest skyscrapers of New York City through the huge windows of his office. “ The only thing Tony trusts, my man, “ Sam smiled, raising himself from the white couch buttoning his jacket. “ Is money. “ He finally revealed, pointing at the glass door at his associate, he left the room a grin on his lips.

It was barely 10 a.m and Steve Rogers was already mad. The week had just begun.

“ Contact your father, Steve. I’m sure he will have a solution.“ Bucky raised himself from his seat his eyes following Sam leaning against the main desk in the waiting area. The dark-haired man sighed frowning at his colleague who was currently flirting with Steve’s assistant. The CEO couldn’t see them but he could hear them giggling in the lobby. His irritation was going up reaching a new level of anger. “ My father will blackmail me or worse bully me into something I don’t want to, for me to get the money. ” Steve replied without turning his back from the beautiful skyline of the city. “ Yes. “ Bucky admitted walking toward the door. “ But, in the end, you would possess the most important industrial firm in the world. “ He explained, his eyes watching the head of his friend, over his shoulder. He shook his head, before leaving the office closing the door behind him.

Steve knew that Bucky was right. He had to ask his father for the money or he could say goodbye to one of his biggest dream for his career: merging Stark company with his own. He turned around, turning his computer on to make a deal with the devil. Without turning his head from the screen, Steve hit one button on his telephone.

“ Miss Smith, I need you for a moment. “ He talks directly to the interphone set on the device and pushed his finger away.

You entered the office, less than a minute later. A pen and a notepad in your hand already ready to write his orders. He didn’t acknowledge you, still taping on the flat and white keyboard. A couple of minutes later, Steve finished his e-mail. He pressed send then he raised himself from his chair, tucking his tie and buttoning his expensive jacket. He walked around his desk finally looking at you. You had waited for him for the exactitude of two minutes and thirty seconds, but it wasn’t the first time he was a complete asshole to you. It won’t be the last time either.

" Follow me to the Financial Department, I need to know the exact numbers we could pull out for Stark Industries. " He informed you, still walking. " What ordered do I make to the kitchen for your lunch, sir? " You asked, nodding but also preparing your pen to write his answer. " Nothing. I’m going out for lunch and will remain out for the most part of this afternoon too.” He informed you, as he stopped in front of your frame. “Cancelled my appointments.”

You paused for a nanosecond at the new information settle in before putting your pen and small notepad in your skirt pocket. Steve was about to walk around you but he suddenly took your wrist into a firm grip in his hand. His eyes were darker and full of promising threats. You gasped surprised by his sudden movement. And then you felt it, the burning feeling from his tight hold, you winced under his angry face. He pulled on your wrist making you collided into his chest, with his other hand he raised your head, one finger under your chin. Your eyes met his cold blue one.

" It’s the first and last time I hear you flirting with one of my friends, sweetheart. Do you understand? " He asked his voice grave and low, his lips barely moving.

You nodded biting your lips under his glare. Steve leaned his mouth to yours, put a simple kiss on your lips. One. Tender. Then, he released you from his grip, stepping beside you to open the door. You let a quiet gasp escape your lips as you stroked the tender flesh of your wrist.

" Let’s go, Miss Smith, we haven’t all day. " He cried out without turning around, striding into the lobby toward the elevator.

Confused you followed him, tears in your eyes. You paused next to him, waiting for the elevator. Discomfort growing inside your chore.

" Miss Smith, you will do a quick reckon on Mr. Brock Rumlow while I’m away. I need to know everything. From the professors he had in preschool to the girls he's currently banging. " Steve commanded you as the metal doors open up in front of you. " Yes, sir. " You sniffed, quickly wiping away a tear from your cheek taking your small notepad and pen from your pocket you took notes.

Steve step inside. You followed him but pushed yourself at the back in one of the four corners, putting as much distance as possible between the two of you, making yourself small. The elevator closed the doors and start his descent to the floors below. Steve turned around his back to you. " Stop crying, baby. You know how much it makes me hard. " Steve said to you, his voice low. He took his phone from inside his jacket and started scrolling "And, I don’t have the time to fuck you, right now. “

With a trembling hand, you wiped away the remaining tears on your skin. You bite your lips your sighted set on his long fingers tapping the screen. Sometimes Steve Rogers could be much worse than a simple asshole. He could be frightening.

°°°

It turned out to be a horrible and awful Monday as the day goes on and on. Steve was angry at everything. Pushing the bag, harder with his fists, he didn’t hear you walk into the gym room of the building. The night had felt in New York City, and almost every employee had returned home. Except you. You couldn’t leave until he did. Steve was wearing his sports clothes, a white t-shirt with sweat pants. His forehead and face were coated in sweat. He had returned to the office two hours ago without telling you anything. He just took his gym bag and went straight to this room. The space was large and clear with numerous sports machines. You leaned your side against the wall, a big folder in your hands.

Finally, Steve stopped hitting the punching ball. Panting, he put his hair away from his eyes.

" Did you finished what I asked you about Rumlow? " Steve asked, starting to take away the white bandage from his hand. " Yes. " You answered, clearing your voice. " I searched and classified every single information I could find on him. " You waved the folder to him. " From birth to present day. "

But Steve didn’t look at you. His thought turned on what his father had told him over their lunch earlier. “ Find a sweet wife, and makes an heir. I don’t want to see my name tainted and ending with you. “ Sweet words. His father was the worst but he had accepted to give him enough money to gather with what his financial team could bring from his company. It would be more than enough to beat Brock and buy Stark Industries but he still had to look for a wife and make a damn baby. He wasn’t the romantic kind of guy. Steve didn’t believe in love and all the other bullshit the media was brainwashing the world with. He loved sex and was pretty damn good at it. But what drove him was to grow his business and be the best. To be better than his father. And he was one step away from it and nobody or anyone will stop him.

" That’s great, Miss Smith. " He nodded taking the last bit of the bandage from his left hand before taking off the bandage from the right one. " Will you marry me, Y/N? " Steve asked not once raising his head from his fingers.

You froze feeling that you haven’t heard him well. You frowned taken aback by the words that came out of his mouth. You didn’t know if you should be more shocked at him for using your real name in three years or by his proposal. You swallowed hard waiting for him to laugh at you. And announced that all of it was a joke. A bad joke. Steve finally turned his blue sight toward you, raising an eyebrow, waiting for a reply.

" Well? " He asked impatiently, finishing with his bandage. " Oh, you are serious! " You exclaimed your mouth wide open, and almost dropping the huge folder on the floor. " Of course, I’m serious. " Steve replied annoyed throwing his stuff in his large sports bag.

Surprise, you dropped your gaze on the ground. Marriage? Marriage was such a big thing, celebrating and vowing in front of your friends and family to love each other for the rest of your life until death comes to break us apart. For you, it was something to do when you were in love but it wasn’t what Steve had in mind.

" You are great at your job, sexy and I like to have sex with you. " He enumerated looking at you and putting his hands on his hips. " I’m not taking no for an answer. So when we should get married, the sooner the better. " He continued his face dead serious looking at you.

You were so confused and baffled by all this, looking at him like a second head had grown on his neck. What the fuck was happening? You shook your head, making a step back to the door. He was insane. Seeing you moving back, Steve took two long strides to reach you before you could escape from him. Extracting the folder from your hold, he threw it across the gym room, papers flying around felt on the ground. Steve put his hands on both of your cheeks. He raised your head pulling it closer to his own. Scared, you look at his eyes. The word dangerous flashing around your mind.

" I told you, I won’t take no for answer. " He murmured his lips brushing yours. "When we will get married I will offer you everything that you desire. I’m filthy rich it’s almost indecent, sweetheart. You will have everything and more." He explained to you stroking your cheek, his dark eyes looking at your teary and fearful one. " A house, cars, clothes anything you want. All I asked in return is a couple of kids. " Steve whispered low against your lips. He brushed his hard-on in his pants against your lower stomach emphasizing his thought. " It will be your kids, I will send them to the best schools, they will have everything they want." He dry-humped your stomach, wiping a few tears on your cheeks with his thumbs, excited watching you frightened.

Steve was certainly insane selling this dream life to you. You needed to think alone, away from his pushy behavior. Closing your eyes, you tried to shrink away from his grasps but he was holding you tightly. You opened your eyes more tears falling on your cheeks, scared you shook your head once again.

" I-I… " You stuttered, choking a sob as you watched him smirked in front of you. " I told you, baby. I won’t take no for an answer. " He said quietly and pressed a kiss on your lips. He took one of your trembling hands from your side, pulled on it, and guided it inside his sweat pants and underwear. You gasped breaking away from him. You felt his hand forcing yours to pump his thick cock in his clothing. " I already told you, seeing you cried makes me horny, baby. " He mumbled in a low voice. " Horny and hard, just for you. " Steve reminded you, groaning at your touch.

He put his forehead against yours, feeling your hand all around him. He guided you to stroke him as he liked you too. You whimpered sobbing, not knowing what to do. Watching the tears falling on your cheeks, his cock throbbed inside of both of your hands. He darkly smiled at you before putting his lips on yours, pushing his tongue inside your mouth.

You will be his perfect little wife.

°°°

Two. Thee. Four. Five.

#Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader #Dark!Steve Rogers x You #Dark!Steve Rogers Fanfiction #Dark!Steve Rogers Imagine #Dark!Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers x You #Steve Rogers Fanfiction #Dark!Steve x Reader #Dark!Steve x You #Steve x Reader #Story: The Compromise #The Compromise Series

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sluttyten · 3 years

Text

craving you like the devil craves heaven

summary: you’re a succubus (a female demon that seduces men to death) and you task yourself with seducing someone difficult. enter mark lee, a priest with a vow of celibacy that he’s already struggling with. you think you’ll have some fun. (based off this message from an anon)

length: 8,622

warnings: religious themes, sacrilegious, corruption, demons, priests, oral sex, masturbation, sex

As a newly-made succubus, you wanted to impress your peers and superiors, and therefore decided to challenge yourself by making your first time special and big.

“A priest?” Your direct superior shook her head in disbelief. “Most would start with a regular mortal who is much, much more likely to succumb to sin. Are you sure you want to commit to seducing a priest? You realize they swear to be celibate, and typically they’re committed to destroying demons like you and I?”

You do realize all of those things, but you’re sure if you find the right one you can do it. Not all priests are perfectly perfect and holy.

All it took was a little bit of divine intervention (or rather you intervening in the divine), tapping into that holy line of mortal prayers. A little eavesdropping, careful listening, and at last you plucked the correct line, listening to the reverberating prayers of a holy man dealing with such sinful thoughts, praying for help in remaining faithful to the vows of the priesthood.

It was night in this place where the young priest was. Cool and dark, the air was damp and would surely make you shiver if you were mortal, but the cold didn’t affect a demon like you, nor did the mist as it clung to your eyelashes and the strands of your hair. You stood across the street from the rectory, standing in the shadow of a doorway, gazing up at the faint golden light of a window on the second floor of the holy man’s house.

You could still hear a whisper of his prayers.

“Lord, it’s me, Mark, your servant. I pray you give me the strength to resist these desires, the sinful thoughts.” He prays, and you can almost picture him kneeling with his hands folded before him, head bowed, and lips moving slightly as he repeats the words of Latin prayers.

You decide to study him.

That night you stand there on the street and watch the house, listening to his dreams, and catching glimpses of his neighbors’ dreams, as well as the other two priests who share the home with Mark. And in the morning you shift yourself to match the wall behind you, to continue your observations as the young priest rises and dresses and walks down the street to the church. You watch as he passes through the cemetery tucked behind the church, and he pauses at some of the headstones to straighten flowers or offer a prayer, and then he enters through a side door, and you stand outside, waiting.

Several hours later a crowd begins to arrive, passing inside through the large, ornate front doors, and soon after music swells, voices rise, and you hear the chanting of prayers upon prayers. You watch as Mark emerges from the church among his parishioners, as he smiles and talks and shakes hands with them.

You take special note of the way that his eyes repeatedly flick toward another human, near the same age as himself. You notice the way his eyes follow their movements, how he smiles when they meet his eye.

Ah, this one. That one is the source of the young priest’s sinful thoughts.

You observe as the crowd thins, disappearing from the front steps of the church until it is only the priest speaking to a mother and her toddler that keeps tugging on her hand and crying, and Mark tries his best to pay full attention to her, but the lovely human who has attracted his notice stands a few feet away, holding a folder in their hands.

Eventually as the bell tower above the church chimes the hour, Mark excuses himself from the mother, stating that he has an appointment to get to, and you watch with renewed interest as he leaves the mother and beckons the nervous-looking folder-wielding individual to step back into the church with him.

They pass through the nave of the church—their footsteps echoing up to the vaulted ceiling, through all the empty pews—and bow at the altar before stepping around to the side, and passing through a doorway tucked behind a statue of a saint. They shut themselves away in the priest’s office, and you listen eavesdrop from your hiding place across from the church, a safe distance from all the blessed holiness that would try to keep you out.

You can’t quite hear Mark’s thoughts, but bear enough to it, sensing the fluctuations in his emotions as the parishioner shows him the divorce file, and pleads with him to help them resolve the issues in their marriage to their spouse in a way that won’t end like this.

You can feel Mark’s tension, the conflict within himself. It’s his duty to help. But the desire he feels for this person sitting across from him.... it’s sinful, it goes against his vows.

That night you watch him walk back to the rectory after another mass, several meetings, a meal at the home of one of his parishioner’s. You listen as he prepares himself for bed, as he prays once more for the strength to get passed this way he feels because he knows it’s not right in the eyes of the church and God.

And that night, after Mark’s window has at last gone dark, after he’s fallen into dreams, you decide that your time for first contact has come.

Mark’s dreams are easy to intrude upon. The boundaries upon the rectory, blessed though they may be, are old and worn and leave several gaping holes for you to slip through and into his mind.

What you’re doing isn’t possession. That’s not in your repertoire.

In his dream, you take the form of Mark’s desire. You form the dream into what you require, setting up the scene as being back in his office, that desk between him and you, the future-divorcée’s file open on the desk.

Mark doesn’t notice a thing, he just slips right from his normal dreams into this one, picking up his lines without a skip.

“....and pray to the Lord. You and Alex can get through this. Counseling and prayer works miracles.” Mark says, and just as he’d done earlier in the day, he reaches across the desk and takes the hand sitting there atop the file.

Unlike earlier though, you’re in control of this dream. You’d felt Mark’s mind buzzing when his hand came in contact with the hand of his secret desire, so you turn that to your benefit now, making your first changes.

“I know it’s wrong,” you say in the voice of the divorcee, “But sometimes I think there’s no use saving the marriage. Alex feels one way about it, and I can understand that. Alex could fall in love with someone else and be happier and I want that for my spouse, of course I do. And if I could fall in love too....” Your look up at Mark sitting across from you, his hand still on yours, and the look on your face is one that you put as much want and lust into as you can.

Mark gulps. His fingers twitch against your hand. “Sometimes people fall in love with someone else. A peaceful resolution to a marriage, the dissolvement, annulment.... that can happen and both parties can remarry happily.”

He’s trying so hard, the poor thing. One look into his eyes and you can see the nervousness and excitement, the way his mind is rushing at this news that the person sitting before him might want to look for new love.

“Sometimes the person that we’re meant to be with is actually right in front of us.” You say.

Mark nods, swallows again. You test the waters, stroke your thumb over the back of his hand.

He jolts in his seat and stands, rubbing a hand over the top of his head as he paces over to a water disperser in the corner of the office, and he fills a small paper cup for himself, gulps it down. And you take this as your next opportunity to try to twist this dream to your advantage.

“Father Lee,” you step closer and closer, coming up right behind him.

His hand shakes as he fills the cup again, but before he can quite lift it to his lips, you curl your hand against his, and take the cup, bringing it to your lips and draining it while you look at him. He watches with his lips parted, eyes wide. Mark drinks too—drinks in every detail of you wearing his desire’s face and putting your lips where his had just been. You can hear his adorable thoughts—the innocent rush he gets from thinking that’s like an indirect kiss.

Things are moving too slow now, you can tell that even in a dream, even when you’re offering everything up for him to make the move, Mark won’t take the opportunity. He’s trying too hard to hold back, and you just want to seduce him.

So you push things ahead just a little bit, rearrange the dream to your liking, which is you sitting on the edge of the desk, leaning back on your hands with Mark’s hands on you. He’s got one hand tangled in your hair, the other on your waist, and the overwhelming sexual frustration you taste on his tongue as he kisses you is so fucking sweet.

Mark murmurs your name.

Well, not your name. But the name that belongs with this face. You press closer, kissing him back to make him shut up, to keep him distracted and enchanted by the lust of the dream.

But perhaps doing that pushes it too far.

Mark breaks away, gasping, “No, wait. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Irritation flashes through you, and for a split second your true self shines through.

Mark’s eyes widen and he gasps, the whole dream fluctuates, shaking and tipping to the side, and then you’re ripped back to reality, just a monstrous succubi hiding in the space beneath his bed.

You hold still as Mark staggers to his feet. Bare feet brush across the floor, and you hear him slapping his face, pinching at his inner arms, and then you hear him murmuring prayers again.

“Father, I’m sorry for my sins. Please forgive me.” and “Father purge these demons from my mind.”

You wrap your arms around yourself under his bed and smile. You don’t plan to go anywhere.

Several more days pass and you let Mark be. You even return to Hell for a few days to update your supervisor on your progress, and while it’s not as much as you’d like, they are impressed with your target.

By the time you return to watch Mark again, he seems to have calmed down a bit from that naughty dream you’d given him. You return just in time for him to say his nighttime prayers, and once more you wait for him to fall asleep before you enter his space.

You bring yourself physically into the space—at first incorporeal, but then you manifest a tangible shape that you personally admire for all of your earthly adventures, and you settle in to do your work for the night.

Even with a real body, you’re still light as a breath of wind, so when you climb onto the bed and settle over Mark’s chest, he doesn’t stir. Nor does he do anything as you step into his dreams.

This time you observe the dreams for a moment.

You seem to be in a memory. Mark’s brother and himself when they were younger, riding bikes down a street that fades off into white nothingness at the edges, not that either of the two boys seem aware. The dream shifts naturally from that bike-ride to sitting in a car, the windows rolled down, a night breeze filling the interior and raking its fingers through Mark’s hair. There’s a girl sitting in the seat beside him, talking and smiling and dressed cute with a milkshake in one hand that she pauses her story every now-and-then to take a sip at. A girlfriend or a first love. When she reaches over and lays a casual hand on Mark’s thigh, he jumps a little. It’s close enough to what you need, so you grasp onto it and take control of the dream like you’re the one driving a car.

You wear the dream-girl’s face as easily as you’d worn the one in the last dream. You move her hand higher up his thigh.

Mark turns his head to the side with a sharp inhale, staring at you. And then you realize, startling even yourself, that he’s actually staring at you.

The dream ripples and you can feel it pulling away from you, Mark resisting your attempt to control the dream.

“Who are you?” His voice asks, but the Mark in the dream before you doesn’t move his mouth. The voice echoes and booms from all around you.

Abort. Fleeing a dream, tearing yourself from the web of his mind, abandoning your victim in a situation like this seems like the absolute most perfect idea.

But tragically, it seems impossible.

The dream closes in around you, squeezing tight as if holding you there. You grapple with Mark’s mind, and then suddenly the dream releases, Mark gasps awake, trying hard to suck in breaths against the new weight of you sitting on his chest, a succubi filled with the lust and dream-energy you’d been siphoning from him.

Before you can truly flee, dissolving back to your incorporeal form and slipping out into the free night, Mark’s hand closes around your wrist, and with a strength and agility you didn’t expect, he flips you under him, pinning your form to his bed. Trapping you between his warm body and the firm mattress.

“Who are you?” Mark hisses.

You let your true eyes shine through, hoping that the dimly glowing sulphuric color of them will frighten him into letting you go.

Instead, he reaches into his shirt and draws out a cross on a silver chain. You flinch back into the sheets as Mark asks the same question again.

“I’m here to help you.” You turn your gaze away from the cross, locking your eyes on his. “You’re so loud with your lustful thoughts, and I’m here to help you feel better, to tame your lusty sins.” You buck your hips up, pressing up against his hips.

Mark swallows hard. “I don’t know what you are or what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, so you don’t want to fuck that sexy, soon-to-be singleton you were dreaming about the other night?” You bring your hands up both of his arms until your fingertips are under the sleeves against his biceps. “Oh, Father Lee, don’t you know how sinful that is? What would your fellow priests think? What must He think?”

Mark’s jaw tightens, and he brings the cross closer to your skin. Your body tingles and burns.

“Let me up.” You tell him. He doesn’t budge. “I swear to all things evil, let me up or I’ll scream and moan, transform to look like your secret desire so when your Brothers came running in here all they’ll know is I’m moaning your name, and you’re....”

Mark moves.

“Demon.” He spits the word at you like an insult.

You sit up, fixing your hair, and you wink in his direction. “You got it.”

“Get out.”

“Hey.” You stand, raising your hands innocently. “You’re the one that summoned me here. I’m a succubus, and the amount of sexual frustration radiating off of you was too delicious to pass up.” You lean in and sniff at his neck, just to take the opportunity to make him uncomfortable because he’s cute like that. “I just want to help, to show you that you can still feel good, Mark. And anyway, is it breaking your vows if I was just trying to entice you in your dreams? It’s not real is it?”

Mark shakes his head, taking an unsteady step backwards. “Even thoughts are sins.”

You roll your eyes and sink back down onto the edge of his bed. “That’s such a modern misconception. Back in the early days of your faith, people weren’t quite so... prudish. They had sex, some even saw it as praising Him, thanking him for the goodness of it all. Some people still do, why do you think people scream His name during the throes of ecstasy?”

Mark blushes. “Stop it. I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m just trying to help.” You reply, leaning back on your hands and looking up at him. “You’re horny, I can feel that. You’re channeling all of your lust toward one unattainable person because they’re married, Mark. Not to mention, they call you Father Lee, which is very unsexy, might I add. But if you would just give in to your dreams, have a hot little dream of making out, getting down and dirty in your office, then that would give you a bit of satisfaction, right? Have a wet dream like you haven’t since you were a teenager? Or at the worst, wake up with a boner, take care of it yourself. You do jerk off still, don’t you, Father Lee?”

Mark frowns at you. “Shut up.”

“Is that a no?” You gasp, sitting up. “Seriously? But you’re still so young, you’ve got all of these hormones, this energy that you need to release. Even if you feel you can’t release it with someone else, do it yourself.”

Mark turns completely away from you then, but you can still see him reflected in the mirror across the room. “Get out.”

His tone is so dour, dark and serious, that you do get out. You flee into incorporeality, still able to observe the look on Mark’s face when he turns around a second later and sees you’re gone, can still see the shape of where you’d say on his bed. He runs his fingers through his hair, and then begins to whisper prayers to his God for forgiveness for his weakness.

You let a few more days pass before you return, scared that coming back too soon would cause too much damage. But several days, you think, gives him time to think more about what you’ve said. You do watch him though, you watch closer than you’d done before, and you see Mark clumsily try to touch himself, as if thinking about what you’d said, but he always pulls his hand away after a moment with a groan of frustration.

On the fifth night since you’d last appeared to him, Mark lingers in his office at the church, pouring over papers, notes from meetings, notices from the parish school. In the yellow half-light cast off by his desk lamp, Mark looks so much older and more tired than anyone should look at twenty-five.

“You need to do something to relax,” you tell him as you manifest right behind his seat, already rubbing at his tense shoulders.

Mark spins his chair around so quickly, he nearly falls out of it. His pupils expand with fear, his chest rising and falling with the surprised, panicked breaths you’d startled out of him.

“How are you in here?” He asks, his eyes darting around the room to the closed door and the latched windows. You know he’s thinking about how the doors of the church are locked (because he’d checked them earlier after the last service for the evening), and then you can see the switch flip in his mind as he starts thinking about how you’re a self-confessed demon currently standing on holy ground. “How are you here?”

You shrug and step around him, sitting on the edge of his desk and plucking a paper from the middle of one of the piles. “It’s easy to be here. I just feel all tingly in all the good places.” You wink at him.

Mark groans and punches the bridge of his nose. “Am I going crazy? Is that what this is? You’re a manifestation of my mental breakdown?”

“Absolutely not,” you laugh. “I’m real. See?”

You take his hand from his face and bring it down between your thighs, close enough that Mark can feel the heat radiating off your skin, but before you can actually make him touch any part of your body, Mark jerks his hand away. You sigh sadly and return your focus to the paper in your hand.

“So, marriage counseling going well for the unhappy couple?” You scan the document which is notes Mark had taken during the counseling session for his crush. “From the looks of it they have issues. The unresolvable kind. Alex just won’t put out, and your sweetheart has needs, huh? But you know all about that, don’t you, Mark?”

Mark snatches the paper out of your hands. “That’s a confidential document.”

You hold out your hand, and right before Mark’s eyes another page from his desk appears in your hand, and this time you read aloud. “When we first got married, we would have sex regularly. At least once a week, usually more.” You raise your eyes to look at Mark. He’s trying so hard not to blush; you wonder how he got through the session. The next few lines of the message are more whining about the current lack of a sex life, and then it’s gets into the sordid, juicy details that you feel certain Mark had struggled to copy down, but had done so for the specific intent of reliving the rush he felt hearing about the sex life of someone he desires.

So naturally you read that part aloud to him as well, and Mark just squirms in his seat. You look up at him and see that he’s definitely blushing, his hands folded as he stares down at them with such a forceful look of concentration, that you’re surprised they’ve not burst into flames. He’s so determined to ignore you, you can hear the prayers racing through his mind.

But when you toe off your shoes and bring a foot up into his lap, you’re amused to find a raging erection hiding there. Mark shudders as the sole of your foot caresses him. His hands untwist, and one moves to your calf, curling around it, but he doesn’t push you away. Not as you keep moving your foot over him like this. His eyelids flutter.

You don’t dare speak, just let the silence hang in the room as you rub Mark’s erection with your foot, his hand on your calf, the other clenching into a fist on the arm of his chair. His lips part, small sweet-sounding sighs falling free. His eyes close, head dropped back against the headrest of his fine leather seat, and his hips shift beneath your foot.

He looks beautiful like this, you think.

Half-lit by his lamp, blushing and glowing with list and finally-felt pleasure. Your body tingles with your own pleasure, the success of doing this.

Mark’s teeth catch his bottom lip, trapping a grunt within his lips. You press your toes to circle them at the tip of his erection, and Mark’s hips lift up, chasing the feeling, grinding against your foot. He sighs, soft moans and pretty sounds, and then at last, he whispers “oh God” and then shudders and slumps back in the chair.

You feel the wet heat beneath your heel, Mark’s cum filling his trousers.

Satisfied, you vanish before he can open his eyes.

You return the following night. This time Mark is in his room at the rectory, sitting up in bed. His eyes are closed as he leans against the wall, his bedsheets pooled in his lap, his hand resting there. He’s not touching himself, but you can tell that he’s challenging himself not to. He’s hard again, and the moment you present in the room, his eyes open as if he could feel the change in the air.

“Demon,” his eyes narrow. “What did you do to me last night?”

“Why? Did it feel good?” You smile. You don’t walk straight to his bed, though you know you’ll end up there. You walk to the closet, run your fingers over the hangers, you skim your fingers through the dust gathering on the books lining the shelf on his wall.

When Mark clears his throat, it’s then that you finally look at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because you need me.” You nod at his lap, wave your hand in a long gesture at his whole body. “I’m telling you, Mark, the energy coming off of you, it’s a wonder you don’t draw every succubus in Hell to come seduce you, drinking up all this juice you’ve got, I’ve never been so full.”

Mark’s eyes flash darkly, his eyes stuck on your face. “Well you had your fill last night right? I can’t believe.... I’ve prayed to the Lord for forgiveness so many times since last night I went to confession earlier today.”

“Oh did you?” A burst of excitement goes through you, and you hurry to sit on his bed, taking up his hand. “What did you tell them about me?”

Mark shakes your hand off. “I didn’t mention you. Why would I? They’d either think I’m losing my mind, which I’m still not convinced that I’m not, or they’d think that I’m just breaking my vows and having sex with someone. I just confessed that I lost my battle against lust and took care of myself.”

You tut at him disapprovingly, shaking your head as you say, “Lying in confession? Isn’t that an oxymoron? And a sin?”

Mark’s hands clench at the sheets. “I wasn’t lying really. Not if I believe that you’re a figment of my cracking mind.”

You smirk, and when you lean closer and lay a fingertip on Mark’s cheek, tracing along his cheekbone and then dropping to outline his lips, you whisper, “And do you believe that? Truly? That I’m just a figment of your imagination?”

“I don’t know what I believe,” Mark whispers hoarsely. “I don’t know if it’s better to think I’m doing this to myself or that there’s a demon taunting me.”

“Maybe I’m actually an angel in disguise, sent in answer to your prayers.” You shift onto your knees, and lean close to Mark’s face. You hold just an inch away from his lips. He goes almost cross-eyed trying to keep looking at you. “In which case, you should take advantage of this opportunity, no? Let me help you, enjoy it.”

Mark pulls his head back, closing his eyes tight as he drops his head back gently against the wall. “This is a sin. I’m a priest, I can’t be doing this.”

You roll your eyes and move.

Mark peers curiously, and almost fearfully, through a cracked eyelid when he feels your weight leave the bed. But a split second later you’ce settled completely in his lap. He goes stiff, murmuring prayers under his breath as well as something that sounds suspiciously like some sort of chant to banish you.

You stay firmly in your spot. “Why did you become a priest, Mark?”

Your question catches him off guard. His prayers cut off and he opens his eyes, looking directly at you. “What? Because I was called. I heard His voice calling me.”

“When?”

“The first time I was young. Fifteen, I think.” He looks up at the ceiling, remembering. “Again when I was eighteen. I entered the seminary at nineteen, studied until I was twenty three, when I became a deacon, and then I was ordained earlier this year. At twenty five.”

You shift your weight. “And you never doubted it? That this was what you wanted to do? That you wanted to swear yourself to celibacy? Never have sex, never allow yourself to experience pleasure? Tell me, Mark, are you a virgin?”

Mark’s blush returns, flooding his face with heat. “Why do you care?”

“Have you ever been touched by another person?” He stays silent, and you think about what you’ve observed in him. You think about him clumsily touching himself before giving up, about how easily he’d fallen apart under your touch the night before. “Have you ever touched yourself, Mark?”

You can feel how hard his heart pounds now, and in each loud beat you hear your answer.

“Cute. Little virginal priest.” You put your hands on either of his cheeks, turning his face so he has no choice but to look right at you. “Was last night your first orgasm?”

Mark breathes through his nose, holding your gaze, trying to steady his racing heart and mind. “Can you stop.”

“But aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to feel it again?” You drop your hands from his face. “I can give that to you again. I can make you feel even better, actually. If you let me, Mark, I can open up a whole new world to you.”

When his eyes close you can tell that he’s thinking about how to banish you, to send you back to hell. You find that very attractive, particularly when a muscle in his jaw flexes.

“Mark,” you whisper, and you lift a gentle hand to his neck, tracing a finger along a vein that stands out there. “Mark, what if I’m just a figment of your imagination? It’s not wrong then, is it? To want to feel good like you did last night? I can give that to you again, I can make you feel better. Just tell me yes.”

The silence buzzes in the room as you wait for him to speak or do anything.

“Yes,” Mark’s voice comes out shaky, hoarse. “Yes, okay. Just one more time.”

You move before he can decide to change his mind. Mark just takes steadying breaths as you sink down the bed, slipping beneath the covers, fitting between his thighs. He holds his breath when you tug down the waistband of the plaid flannel pants he’s wearing, when you touch his bare erection with your fingers, the tip of your tongue, your lips closing around him.

You’re not sure that he breathes until swallow around him, pushing to take more of his cock down your throat. Your body buzzes with the heat coming off of him, the energizing power of making him feel good.

Mark doesn’t touch you. He clenches his fingers in the bedsheets on either side of his hips as you give him his very first blowjob. You can’t help looking up at him as you do this; watching every look of pleasure and satisfaction cross his face, unrestrained. And when he moans, they’re soft moans, always conscious that you’re not alone together in this house of holy men, that there’s another priest just two doors down, an empty bathroom in between.

You keep sucking him off, taking him as deep into your mouth as you can when he blows his load for the first time.

Mark bites his knuckles to keep quiet. You pull off his erection, keeping your fingers on him, playing with him as he shudders through the last waves of pleasure.

“Look at that, would you? Felt good? How could that be a bad thing?” You drop a tender kiss to his tip, and then sit up, feeling very satisfied in yourself. “Do you want more?”

“More? No. I shouldn’t. I really, really shouldn’t.” He put his hands over his face, pinching at his nose. “Shit. What am I doing? You need to leave.”

You look at him with his face covered, his body on display to your eyes. “Well, if you want more, I’m sure you can look up a summoning ritual for me in one of your holy books, Father Mark. Call me.”

You stand up, and it’s not like you’re going to leave by the door, or anything, but you turn to look around his room one last time. You’re done here. You seduced the priest, drank energy from him, there’s nothing more to be done. You’ve enjoyed your first time, but you’re not going to do the full succubus job to this man, you’ve enjoyed him too much. You won’t drain him and leave him sick. You just hope you opened his eyes.

“Wait.” The young priest grabs your arm before you have the chance to disappear. “How do you expect me to summon you if I don’t know your name?” He says it lightly, almost joking, as if he’s still not sure that he can really take this seriously, this whole you being a seductive demon thing. But the look in his eyes is hopeful.

With a light touch to his chin, you lean in, and whisper your name in his ear.

Months pass in mortal time. You move on from the young priest, seducing many men and some women, draining a few of them dry until they’re just shells of their former selves. You’re currently seducing a wannabe actor, literally sitting on his dick, when you feel a tug inside you. It’s a strange feeling, nothing you’ve felt before, and it’s not pleasant at all.

You push at the man’s chest, the unpleasant feeling spreading through you. “I’ve got to go,” you tell him, and then you turn and vanish, following the strange feeling.

You find yourself in a strange room, a small bedroom.

“So you really never came back to me.” A voice says from behind you.

You spin around, noticing all at once the candles, and then right before you--

“Forgive me, Father. I thought you didn’t want more from me.” You reach out to Mark, standing right here before him for the first time in so long. You missed him. You missed teasing him.

“I didn’t expect you really wouldn’t come back.” Mark stands there just out of reach, his arms folded across his chest. And he looks so good, so handsome in a black button-down shirt and gray pressed slacks. But he’s barefoot and his hair is messy, adding a toned-down casual level to his attractiveness. He clears his throat and you look back up to his face as he says, “I had to make do without you around, you know.”

That piques your interest. “Oh? Did you finally learn to jerk off? Have you been touching yourself? Here in the priest house?”

Mark shakes his head. “Look around, does this look like my room there?”

No, actually. It doesn’t at all. And a quick look out the window shows that you’re in somewhere completely different.

“I left the priesthood,” Mark explains. “What you said, what you did to me, I realized that the priesthood wasn’t what was the best choice for me. I can still serve the Lord in other ways, other ways that will allow me to explore the side of me that you awakened.” And now Mark steps closer to you. At last, he reaches for your face, slipping his fingers into your hair. You practically purr at the contact with him. “I’ve been busy since you left me.”

“Oh?” You lean into his touch. “From priest to manwhore in just a few passes of the moon.”

Mark nods. “I tried to stay on that path for a little while, but I just couldn’t. I craved more, that same feeling you gave me.” He nibbles his bottom lip nervously for a second before admitting, “I actually slept with a woman before I decided to give up on the priesthood. I prayed for forgiveness afterwards, but it just felt like I fucked up too much on that one, so I decided to leave. I moved away, started over, slept around, but none of them touched me the way that you did. Nothing feels better than you.”

You shrug. “It’s part of the job description really. I’m a seductress. You think I’m not going to be the best you’ve ever had? Is that why you summoned me, you want more at last?”

“Demon, I want to make you a deal.” Mark caresses your cheek. “I am a man of faith, and you’ve steered me down some side path that I had absolutely no intention of going down. In the past, I didn’t know what to do with you, but I wanted you. Now, I still want you, but I know what I’m doing. I know about you. I did research about your kind while I was looking up how to summon you again. I want to make a deal.”

“A deal?” You pull back from him, breaking all contact. “Mark, what the hell. Don’t you know what making a deal with a demon means?”

He cuts you off with a shake of his head, dismissive. “I don’t care. I know the risk, but, fuck, I swear you got me addicted to you. Just a few hits, and I crave you.”

“Why would you want to make a deal with me? A binding pact?” You push at his chest and Mark takes a step back to balance. “Are you fucking stupid? You think I want your soul, Mark Lee? You had a good soul, a pure one. That’s why I left you and never looked back! Some things are too good starting out, and tarnishing them with my hands....” You look down at your hands, and you can see through the glamor you wear, down to your real form the ashen hell-burnt flesh.

Mark’s watching you when you look up at him. But he doesn’t look afraid, doesn’t look sad or sorry.

His eyes still burn with need.

“I don’t want your soul,” you tell him, “So I don’t want a deal.”

Mark takes another step back from you. “But I want you. So take the damned deal. Fuck me.”

“And what do you get out of it? You won’t get fame or fortune or health from this deal. You literally just get to fuck a demon until you die, so no, that’s not good enough.” If you were human you’d be sick to your stomach right now. What Mark’s offering you, if he were anyone else you would take the deal, but Mark Lee was a good man when you met him; he was cute and innocent, a pure soul that you wanted to protect so you left for his own good. You couldn’t make him pay the price of being with you.

No, Mark shakes his head in denial and desperation. He comes close to you again, standing just an inch away from you, close enough that both of you can feel each other, but not close enough that any part of you is actually touching.

“Just touch me, please.” Mark pleads. “I miss your touch. The way you made me feel, I’ve been chasing that high for months, and nothing compares. Please.”

You want to touch him. You really, really do.

With a groan of frustration, you cup Mark’s face in your hands. “I’m going to be the death of you,” you tell him in the moment before your lips meet his.

The kiss is absolutely intoxicating. Mark moans and wraps around you, moving backwards toward his bed, limbs tangling together as you both collapse onto his sheets. You pin him beneath you, kissing the air from his lungs, your fingers sliding down the front of his shirt, buttons falling open just at your touch. And when your fingertips move a bit lower, grazing the front of his pants, you find that he’s devastatingly hard.

He rolls his hips up against your hand, groaning into the kiss, whimpering delightfully when you squeeze his erection.

You sit up on him, and Mark follows, needy for your kiss. His mouth crashes against yours, sharp and hot. You push his shirt off his shoulders, and you let him roll you under him, your body nestled into his sheets as Mark unbuttons his fancy slacks, pushing them down enough that you can see his cock pop out.

You grab onto the edges of his pants, dragging him forward up your body, and you all but throw your mouth onto his cock.

Much like the last time, Mark seems caught off guard by the way you make him feel. He moans loudly, fingers knotting in your hair. But unlike the last time, he quickly recovers, seems to know what to do to get exactly what he wants, using his hands in your hair to direct your mouth.

When you can see it in his face that he’s enjoying this a bit too much, you pull off, using your hand on him instead, looking up at him as you jerk him off over your chest.

“Mmm, fuck,” Mark moans, a hand running over his chest and down his abs. “No one makes me feel this good. Not with anything they’ve done to me.” He thrusts forward into your hand. “I need to feel you around me.”

You nod. You want it too. You’re ready for him, and he’s clearly more than ready for you. Mark quickly disposes of his pants, climbing back on the bed, sinking in to kiss you again, and you fall into the kiss, more intoxicating than anything you’ve ever felt. With a hand to his chest, you press Mark onto his back, and you climb over him, straddling his thighs.

You don’t break the kiss, just reach down as you move forward to situate yourself over him. Teasing the head of his erection against your wet, dripping entrance, Mark whines, shifting his hips up eagerly. “Patience,” you murmur, and you leave his lips behind to kiss down his throat, down the center of his chest, and you glance up at him as you allow his tip to slide inside you just as you circle your tongue on one of his nipples.

He bucks up, wanting to bury himself inside you, but you’ve already pulled away again.

“Thought you said you’d know what to do now?” You ask, flicking your tongue over his pebbled nipple. “When are you going to prove that? Because from where I’m sitting--” you sit upright, right down on him so his erection is trapped between his abdomen and your wet heat, “--you’re still the innocent boy who doesn’t now how to fuck me.”

You’re not entirely sure how he does it, flipping from submissive boy trapped beneath you to you suddenly being on your back with Mark’s mouth ravaging your throat, and his cock rutting between your legs, still not inside you, but now it’s you who groans at the tease. His erection glides over your clit, and each time you feel a zip of pleasure.

You grip at his arms, fingers digging into muscle, and then Mark’s cock slips and on the next thrust, he fucks right into you.

Both of you moan as he sinks inside you, his teeth catch at your throat, instantly soothed again by his lips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Mark mumbles the words against your skin. “You’re so soft, warm. Heavenly.” He buries his face in your neck, his entire body presses against yours--chest and hip, legs tangled together as he shallowly fucks into you while sucking at your throat.

This is intimate and strange and fascinating and fantastic. Your usual partners are just quick fucks that you feed off of their sexual energy and then you leave. It’s not intimate at all, no matter how many times you’d fucked them, there was no intimacy--rarely were attempts made by them, and never by you--but here you can’t get enough of this. You just want Mark closer until you can’t feel where your form ends and Mark begins.

Your fingernails scrape the back of his neck, twisting in his hair as you bring his busy lips from your throat to your lips, needing to satiate the hunger.

This is pure lust, addiction to him and his addiction to you.

You’re not even feeding off the sexual energy of this intercourse, just existing in the moment for the carnality of it all.

Mark’s thrusts grow bigger, deeper, more powerful, and you wrestle with him, letting him stay on top until suddenly you want him beneath you. You want to fuck him, to ride him, and that lasts for a bit until you’re on your belly pressed into the bed, Mark thrusting into you from behind with his lips against your cheek as he murmurs praises. There’s teeth and nails, Mark’s hair sticks to his forehead with sweat. He shivers in delight when you press him again beneath you, circling your hips on his cock, tracing your fingers over the raised pink lines from your nails down his chest.

He looks high, his pupils wide, his skin flushed, and he’s alive with a glowing energy that calls out to you, begging you to drink it in. But you don’t want that here. You just want this, to feel a part of this, to make him feel the best you can because experiencing sex like this with Mark where you’re not using your demon powers feels absolutely insane, makes you feel even better than when you do answer that call, and drink off the energy of your partner.

His hand snaps against your ass, and you realize you’ve just been sitting there, gazing down at him in admiration. “Move, baby.” And he does it again.

“Fuck, Mark. Do you go to confession and tell the priest that you dream about getting fucked by a demon like this?” You roll your hips, sinking forward until your lips are beside his ear. “Do you confess your sins. Forgive me, Father, but I let a demon into my life. She fucked me so good I stopped being a priest because her pussy is worth it.”

Mark moans.

“Forgive me, Father, but when I was a priest, she made me cum for her in the Church, on holy ground.” You squeeze around his cock, and he lets out a beautiful sound. “Mmm, forgive me, Mark, but I think no amount of confession will make up for sinning like this, loving every single thing we’re doing right now.”

“Holy--!” Mark’s voice cuts off as you sit up, curling your delicate fingers around his throat. His eyes roll back from the pleasure, and you just smile down at him, applying pressure to his throat and circling your other thumb around his nipple. He blinks and looks up at you, his mouth hanging open in soundless awe and appreciation, his eyes glowing with lust and something else. You just want to make him feel good.

You press forward, unable to hold back, needing to feel his lips on yours as you ride him, as you feel that pleasure seeping through your body, a warm silvery-golden glow as your toes curl and your body goes warm and light and fuzzy.

Mark’s hands are on you -- on your hips and your hands and in your hair and on your thighs, touching you all over, pressing you down as he bucks up into you, and then he’s cumming and it feels so good too, better than when the others have done it.

You keep kissing him, rolling your hips down on him, wanting to keep this feeling going. It’s one you’ve never truly felt before.

But eventually it must end, and you roll off to the side, and Mark follows, not wanting to let you get too far. He tucks his face against your neck, breath hot and damp on your skin, and his thigh slips comfortably between yours. You feel sticky and sweaty all over in places you didn’t know you could be sweaty, and you feel like you need to catch your breath.

Mark drops a singular tiny kiss to the center of your chest, and then he pulls back, his head resting on one side of the pillow, yours on the other, only a few bare inches between the tips of your noses. You’ve never been this close to a human before (on multiple levels) and you don’t pull back.

“I made a deal with a demon,” Mark whispers, and he uses a finger to brush back a section of sweaty hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Or at least, I meant to. Don’t leave me.”

“Mark, I won’t kill you.” You tell him, absolutely refusing to let this go where he seems to carelessly want it to go.

His fingers tighten in your hair. “Then give it up. I want you. All the time. And it’s not just because you’re a succubus. I know that’s part of the enchantment, I completely understand that, but I know in a deeper place in my heart that I crave you in a way that’s separate from your crazy, mystical demon powers, okay? Give it up.”

You stare into his eyes, his wide and innocent and hopeful eyes. You want to do it for him. You want to give Mark whatever he asks for. But... “I can’t. This is who I am, I can’t just give up being a succubus. It’s what I was brought into existence to be.”

Mark shakes his head. “I refuse to believe that. You’re a demon, but what are demons except fallen angels.” His thumb strokes over your cheek. “And I see an angel when I look at you.”

You roll your eyes and push his hand away. You sit up, ready to leave his bed, to flee into the unknown from him. But Mark’s fingers circle tightly around your wrist.

“I know how to summon you, I’ll just bring you back,” he says.

“And if I asked you not to?” You flex your wrist, testing his hold. “If I told you that I truly wanted you to leave me alone. What then?”

Mark’s hand falls away and he closes his eyes, turning onto his back to face the ceiling. “I would leave you alone. I would wish I could have convinced you to stay. Because I can see that you want to be here as much as I want you to stay.” He opens his eyes, looking right at you. “You gave me your name before you left, you opened this path for me to find you again, so you must have wanted me to, right?”

Right.

“So stay. I’m a theological man, and I’ve done my research into demonology and the supernatural, into good and evil. You think you’re just a demon, but I think you’re an angel, and somewhere in between where you stand and where I stand is a happy medium, a place where you and I can have this--” he gestures between your two bare bodies in his bed “--without you being afraid of destroying my soul.”

This is absolutely ridiculous.

You want it more than you can explain.

“Make a deal with me, demon.” Mark says, taking your hand in his, guiding it to his chest. He presses your palm flat over his heartbeat. “Stay with me, and I’ll help you become the angel that I know you are.”

This story began with a demon set on destroying her sexual victims and with a priest certain of his fate as a celibate holy man, and now you’re here. Both of you have already come so far from where you began.

You take Mark’s hand, guiding it so his palm lays over where your heart would be.

“The deal is true.” You tell him, and Mark gazes into your eyes as he repeats those words back to you, and just like that a bond is formed, a pact made, and you sink down against him, pressing your cheek to his chest as his arms wrap around you.

And this time you stay.

a/n: oops, I knew as soon as I first read this message that it was probably going to end up as a drabble, but damn I didn’t think I’d make it this long lol

If you liked it please reblog, like, comment. If you’re into the corruption of religious figures thing, definitely also check out Righteous a 5-part series by the wonderful @skzctnightnight it’s not got demons but it does have seminarian student Mark being tempted by the reader and it’s very hot and good

#mark smut #mark lee #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut

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plentyoffandoms · 3 years

Text

Need You (Part 7) (18+)

Lee Bodecker x f/Reader

WARNINGS: This is smut. If you are under the age of 18, please do NOT read this. Swearing. unprotected sex (always remember to use protection). Ddlg, step-father/step-daughter. Reader is legal age. Anal

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs & photos do not belong to me.

Main Masterlist ♡ The Devil All the Time Masterlist ♡ Lee Bodecker Masterlist ♡ Need You Masterlist

Summary: - F/Reader is the step-daughter of Lee, who has taken care of her ever since her mother walked out on them. The two of them have always been able to keep the sexual tension at bay until one night.

Lee Bodecker POV:

I was woken up the next morning by my home phone ringing off the hook. Y/N went up and answered it before I even got the blankets off of me.

"Oh my goodness. Yes, I will go and wake him and tell him the horrible news."

I watched as she came back into the bedroom and snuggled up into my side.

"Some one find his body?"

"Mmm yes. They want you over to the scene as soon as possible."

I knew I had to get there fast but I was hoping it would be at least a day or two until they found his body.

"You never did what you said you were going to do Daddy." Y/N said as she kissed my bare chest.

"And what is that darlin'?"

"You promised to fuck my ass last night." She pouted.

"I did, didn't I? Well how about you get ready for work so I can drop you off but put in that butt plug and the two of us can have lunch at home today"

"Yes Daddy." With a kiss she got up. I made sure to slap her gorgeous ass as she walked away. I got out of bed and got ready, even though it was hard as hell too.

I dropped her off at the station and I kissed her goodbye. I have come to realise I am done with hiding our relationship from every one but I will discuss it with her first before I make an announcement.

Y/N was surprised that I did that in the open but didn't say anything. I made sure she got in the building okay before I left.

I got to the scene of the 'suicide' and started to ask all the usual questions.

"Who is it?"

"Looks to be Adam sir, suicide." Officer Williams said. He is a good guy. Has helped me to 'clean up' from time to time.

"Has anyone contacted his next of kin?" I asked as I looked over the body. I wanted to smile at the thought that this fucker was gone, but I kept a straight face.

"Yes sir. His parents will be coming later to grab his body and take him home for the funeral."

"Any clues on why he would of done this?

"No sir."

"Check his home and I'll check is desk and locker at work."

His body was taken away and we cleaned up the area. The residents that were behind the police tape were worried of course.

"Is there a murderer on the loose Sheriff?" Carl Jenkins asked as I was walking back to my car.

I decided to make an announcement. No need for the citizens to be scared.

"To answer Carl's question, no there is not. This appears to have been a suicide. No need to worry." The gasps from the crowd was loud. "How awful." "He was so young." Was all I heard.

He also blackmailed Y/N and I but I didn't say that.

I got to the office and searched his desk for any 'clues' on why he would of done this as well as his locker.

As to be expected there was nothing. I got to my office and started to work on the paper work when Office Williams came in and closed the door.

"What can I do for you Oliver? Did you find anything at his place?" I asked as he sat down.

"No Lee, but there was something in the glove box that I grabbed before any one else found it. I wanted us to be alone when I gave it to you." He said as he handed me the folded up paper.

"If you found this I am dead. Sheriff Lee Bodecker and his step-daughter are in a relationship. I asked Y/N to meet me to discuss the end of her relationship."

I folded the paper closed and put it in my pocket. "Is it true Lee?" The air was tense.

"Yes."

"You lucky son of a bitch." I laughed.

"So what did he do then?"

"Blackmailed her so I took care of it."

"How long if I may ask?"

"Only a few months."

"And he thought he could blackmail the two of you?"

"Yes, but he isn't a problem anymore. Thanks for keeping this quiet, it's about damn time you get a promotion. I'll get started on the paperwork."

"No problem Lee and thanks. I'll keep the secret to myself of course."

"Thank you Oliver. Now I have to get this paperwork going or I will miss lunch."

I was alone once more but finished up what I needed to do. I left my office and walked towards Y/N's desk.

She looked up once she saw me coming towards her.

"You ready for lunch?"

"Yes Sir." I almost growled at that. I love it when she calls me Daddy but fuck when she calls me Sir it does stuff to me as well.

We got in the cruiser and headed home. "How did it go Daddy?"

"Good. Everyone just thinks it is a suicide." I will tell her about the note after.

I changed the subject and it didn't take us long to get home.

Our front door closed behind us and I just about died when I saw that she was already stripping.

"I need you Daddy. I have been waiting for you all morning. I even went to the bathroom and fingered myself to the thought of you."

"Go to the bedroom and get on all fours on our bed you naughty girl." I had to make this quick as we actually do need to some food as well.

I got to our bedroom and she was in position. I stripped my clothes and got behind and pulled her flush against my body, her back to my chest.

"Want to practice without lube today baby so that way I can fuck your ass anywhere."

"Please Daddy."

I positioned myself and slide into her tight pussy as I kept her flushed against me. "Shit." I heard her mumble. "Just gonna use your pussy juices baby but fuck you feel good."

Her pussy clenched tightly around me and I groaned. I thrust into her pussy a few times but pulled out before I really started to pound into her.

I grasped the heart shape handle of her butt plug and slowly pulled it out of her.

"You ready baby girl?"

"Please Daddy."

"Now remember to relax and Daddy will take care of all the rest."

I spread her ass cheeks wide and moaned at the sight of her gaped ass. I slapped my cock against her ass cheeks a few times and then I slowly started to push in.

I felt her body tense up and I started to kiss her shoulders and her back whispering calming words to help her relax.

"You are taking me so well, just like you always do baby. You were made for me and only me."

"I feel like you are going to rip me apart Daddy." Y/N whimpered

I couldn't help but groan at the filthy compliment.

"Just let me know when I can go faster love."

I thrusted in and out of her slowly until I felt her relax even more.

"Now baby?" I asked, hoping she will say yes.

Y/N nodded her head and all I could do is grunt and started to fuck into her ass harder and faster.

I knew I wasn't going to last long but I had to make this all worth it for her.

I pulled her once more against my chest and wrapped my arm around her midsection and my other hand went straight to her clit and started to rub that.

She reached behind her and wrapped her arms around my neck. "Oh Daddy, please oh shit right there."

"Fuck Y/N. You gonna cum for Daddy? Want to cum with Daddy in your sweet ass?"

"Oh yes. Fuck."

The only sounds that could be heard through out the room was our heavy breathing and skin slapping.

I shoved three fingers in her pussy and it was all too much for her. Her pussy got extremely tight and the scream that came out of her mouth made me cum deep in her ass.

I came so much, it felt like it would never end, but it finally did. I pulled out of her quickly and shoved the discarded butt plug back in her ass.

"You will only have to wear that for a few hours baby girl." I said to her with a kiss.

"Yes Daddy."

The two of us got cleaned up and dressed. I took her to the diner and we sat in our usual booth.

We placed our orders and got our drinks.

"Lee...I think we need to talk." Y/N said to me.

Part 6 / Part 8

Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @kitty4860 @red-rose-21 @adaydreamaway08 @charmed-asylum

#the devil all the time smut #the devil all the time x reader #the devil all the time (2020)#the devil all the time #seb stan #sebastian stan #lee bodecker #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x ofc #lee bodecker x you #sheriff lee bodecker #lee bodecker x female reader #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker x reader smut

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miyalove · 3 years

Text

⋆｡˚⁀➷ WRAPPED UP.

⤷ pairing. ceo!kuroo tetsuro x (female) secretary!reader

⤷ genre. fluff, smut, office au, friends with benefits au

⤷ warnings. swearing, taboo relationship, the use of princess as a nickname, possessiveness, messy sex, rough sex, begging, brief mentions of degradation, ass slapping, ass groping, teasing, (unexpected) sir kink, manhandling, dom!kuroo, sub!reader, power play, spitting, consumption of another person’s spit, lingerie, dirty talk, penetrative sex, sex without a condom (please be safe, kids), *unedited

⤷ note. this might be one of the dirtiest things i have EVER written... so i hope you enjoy! and of course, happy valentines day ♡

1.6k | what's a better valentine’s day gift for your boss than yourself?

the relationship you and kuroo have is a bit taboo. the secretary and the ceo. with the way you sway your hips with a little more emphasize when you leave his office, the way you laugh at all his jokes, the way your body dip downs (ass in the air looking absolutely perfect) to grab at fallen papers. of course, something was going to happen. you were practically betting on it.

but of course, it takes two to start the devil’s conga line.

it was kuroo who wanted you to stay later than usual. only you and him in his big office space and yet he urged you to stay, big hands rubbing at the inside of your thighs. it was him who insisted on how sexy you looked in the middle of meetings; your hair neatly tucked behind your ears, lips pouted and a fire behind your eyes that would make any man weak. it was kuroo that guided you to his desk, smile bright and eyes glowing with mischief because he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. you can’t complain though, you want it too.

he grabs at your waist turning you around so your thighs are firmly pressed against his desk. the lace you have on perfectly shapes your body. it presses at your delicate skin, digging and reaching into all the places kuroo wishes he could touch. he swears he could stare at you all day like this; bent over, dripping pussy on display just for him.

this was different though.

no matter how many times you walked in his office with your alluring eyes. kuroo prided himself on being professional. there was a natural attraction between the two of you, that much is obvious, but for the sake of his company, kuroo never made a move. the feeling of belittlement against you for ‘sleeping your way up’ would make him stay awake at night with guilt. however, tonight things were different. maybe it was the fact that this was your first valentines together or maybe fate just has a really niche sense of humor, but whatever the case; you’re still sopping wet and begging to be fucked.

his hands roam your body. he moves slowly, studying every curve and dip like you’re the latest from leonardo de vinci. ah yes, the redness from when i smacked her ass contrast perfectly to the color of her eyes. you’re beautiful. he desperately craves to say it but the words die on his tongue before he can speak. instead, he lets his actions talk.

“it’s too bad these have to go, princess.” a single finger traces your lace cladded entrance. the action alone has you whimpering. “i’ll buy you another set though.” you feel him shift from behind, body leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the small of your back.

one of his hands snake up to your neck, yanking at the roots of your tresses. the force makes you gasp. a mixture of pain, shock, and pleasure rushes through you. your head whips back in an uncomfortable position, but you’re able to see kuroo’s perfectly sculptured face, so really you have no complaints. “how do you feel about red?”

the sound of fabric ripping in half has you concern, at first. but kuroo tetsuro, for as long as you’ve known him has been a no bullshit kind of man. he teases and jokes but when it comes down to business, he’s a cutthroat beast. so it makes sense for him to move on as fast as he came.

there’s no time for you to wonder in astonishment at how he throws your (now useless) panties across his office. he’s already pulling out his cock and sinking into you until his body presses right against your back. naturally, your lips part into a pout that’s wrapped around a wanton moan. the stretch is sensational and the burn evens out the euphoria. he feels you up so well. you can feel his cock rub up against your walls, reaching spots within you that have never been touched by anyone else before. you understand now why your boss is no play and all business. when kuroo needs to, he’s not afraid to get down and dirty just like right now.

“this cunt was made for me.” is what he purrs into your ear. it’s embarrassing how much that affects you. the mere idea of being his has you clenching around his huge cock. his free hand rubs at your back, grabbing at the supple flesh on your ass. you can feel his nails dig into you, the coldness from his rings slightly soothing the pain.

“this ass was made for me too.” and to further cement his claim, he delivers a particularly hard thrust at the same time he smacks at your cheeks. the movement makes you fly forward, papers and other (probably very important things) slide off the top of his desk, but you don’t have time to care. not when the man of your dreams is fucking you so good. you’ll worry about the crumpled up project approval papers later.

“god, and that mouth.” he shifts to the side. the pressure on your head heightens while he pulls at your ends. your neck feels stiff and his thrust begin to shallow. his ring cladded fingers draw at your jaw, thumb playing with the entrance of your mouth.

“this pretty little mouth.” his lips brush against your own. his breath fans across your face. he’s so close to kissing you in fact if you moved just an inch closer you would– a fat glob of spit cuts you off. the sudden action made you flinch at first but kuroo made it very clear you could tell him to stop at anytime. his saliva comes down from his long tongue and slots within your mouth perfectly.

he clamps your jaw shut and you have no choice but to swallow him whole. “good girl, just like that.” he coaxes you while petting at your crown. when you finally open your mouth and all of him is gone, kuroo swears he could cum right then and there.

“you’re so fucking sexy. holy shit.” his shallow thrust began to get more punctuated now. you can’t hear anything besides the slapping of skin-on-skin contact. you don’t hear kuroo’s phone ringing for the third time. you don’t hear the bustling street life just below tetsuro’s flamboyant row of glass windows. all you can focus on is the intense pleasure that pumps through your veins. it makes you see stars with every thrust, makes your legs shake with every murmur of pretty girl. the white hot coil within you is thinning. it’s about to snap, you can feel it.

“te– tetsuro, please?”

“please, what, princess?” his voice is strained. he’s close too.

“please, can i come, sir?”

he can’t believe it. he must have died in the middle of the day and ended up in some kind of sex heaven with you as the starring role (not that he’s complaining). he has the a fantastic view of your ass bouncing, you swallow him down like the pretty slut you are, and you respond perfectly with every little touch, every little action. you’re perfect is what he concludes.

“fuck, yes.” his fingers dig into your sides. his grip is like a vice on your skin as he shoves himself deeper within you. “cum for me, princess.”

you feel his dick twitch and seconds later he’s cummings with a shaky sigh. you’re finally able to let go, you come at around the same time, milking his cock for every last drop. kuroo takes it upon himself to fuck you through your orgasm, a little slower this time, but it still has you breaking down.

he remembers the way you sauntered into his office, skirt a little too short and eyes practically begging for him. you must have known something was going to happen. there’s no way you just wear pretty pink lace to your everyday job. no, today was a special day for you and apparently for him too. when things finally get too much, kuroo tucks his softened cock back into his pants.

you’re hair is messy. it’s matted from all the sweat and tangled from all the times kuroo raked through your locks and pulled. your chest rises and falls quickly and your eyes are closed trying to concentrate. the blissful veil of sex is finally settling and yet you still look as gorgeous as ever. he’s left there staring at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him. like he wouldn’t mind waking up everyday to your face weather you’re smiling up at him or snoring up a storm.

when you shift to hop of the desk is when he finally makes a move. he grabs onto your waist, trying his hardest to steady himself so you’re able to balance too. your feet hit the floor and your legs feel like they’re gonna give out at any moment. they wobble under your weight. you can’t help but laugh. it’s a sweet, melodious tone that’s a little scratchy from your... previous actions, but still, he thinks it fits.

“what’s gotten you so giggly?” he guides you to one of his plush office chairs. as you walk, your body remains flesh against his.

“i just–,” your hues lock onto kuroo’s dark ones. “i wouldn’t mind if we did this again, yanno?”

he smiles down at you watching while you readjust your skirt back over your legs. you bend forward with you’re ass in the air. you must be doing it on purpose, he knows with the way you comically wiggle your hips. and he nods, “yes, i wouldn’t mind that either.”

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