#V; WHEN EVERYTHING IS OVER & THE WORST HAS HAPPENED﹐ THERE'S STILL ONE THING LEFT IN PANDORAS BOX—–HOPE. ( main | canon arcs ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

opalici0us · 2 months

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Coming Down | | Suguru Geto

pairings- Geto x fem!reader

synopsis- Geto just wants to make it up to you

content- 18+ MNDI, smut, fwb trope, toxic(Geto comes off as manipulative), Geto has comitment issues, he’s just a red flag, neck kissing/sucking, fingering, oral(f!receiving), praise, p in v sex, missionary, spit(Geto spits in readers mouth), breeding, pet names(baby, princess), Gojo makes a cameo!!

inspo: Coming Down by The Weeknd

wc- 3.2k

It was two in the morning. Geto was all alone; you weren’t picking up any of his calls.

“Pick up the phone, dammit Y/N.”

Geto barely remembered tonight or that's what he was telling himself.

Everything started fine, you two were lounging around on his couch, waiting for your friends to come over. His mind was blank until you asked the three-word question he’d hoped wouldn’t ever come up. “Suguru, what are we?” Your words hung heavy in the air as Geto felt his throat close up.

“Aren’t we just friends..?”

He knew by the look on your face how big of an impact his words had on you. As if a switch went off in your brain, you yelled at him. A full serge of emotions, Geto could only silently watch you obliterate every part of him with his jaw wide open. You gathered all your things, adding one final “fuck you!” before slamming his door shut.

About an hour after you left your friends came over. Gojo tried to ask what happened only to get met with a shrug from Geto. Around 10:30 pm, Geto was high out of his mind ranting to just as faded Gojo about what happened while the rest of the group was distracted.

“Like I just don’t understand, is she unhappy with how it is now? I just...I give her so much of me and I don’t know man.” Geto rambled mindlessly while Gojo pretended to understand but was too gone to process anything. “Maybe just uh...uh talk to her somethin’.” Gojo shrugged, still trying to piece everything.

“Satoru…you’re a fuckin’ genius. I’m gonna talk to her, tell her how I feel!” Geto slapped Gojo on the back, before pulling his phone out to text you. This was a horrible idea. He was too angry even to be civil with you.

When you saw the texts coming in one after another, you actually felt bad for a second for asking him “such a stressful question.” until you gained some consciousness, seeing how he completely dismissed your feelings and was pulling the victim card. You clapped back, each text sent back and forth getting more and more vicious. His messages stung, claiming “I don’t need you at all.” or “I’ll just find someone else to fuck.”

This lasted for around 15 minutes until Gojo finally processed what happened between you two. He yanked the phone out of Getos' hands, knowing he’d regret everything but the damage was already done.

Everyone had left a while ago. Geto was now all alone with his thoughts as the high wore off.

Voice mail after voice mail, he was getting damn tired of hearing it. He knew this was all his fault, that he should have just talked to you the first time around. It’s not like he didn’t like you, he thought about you more than he’d ever like to admit. Geto absolutely adored you.

He told himself this would be his last attempt at reaching you. He tapped your contact, prepping himself for the worst. He was so lost in thought he didn’t even hear you pick up until your voice popped out at him. “What?” Your voice was snappy, but he knew he deserved this for being such a dick.

Geto wasn’t expecting you to pick up, not after you ignored all 16 previous calls. “Hey…we should talk.”

“Yeah? ‘S that right?” Geto could hear the bitterness in your tone. “What is there to talk about? So you can belittle me again? Tell me how much you don’t need me? How much stress and anxiety I caused you?” Your words were nothing but the brutal truth. He could only cringe, remembering how much a jack-ass he was to you.

“Please, just listen to me I–”

“No! You’re such a– I just can’t right now. I don’t have anything else left to say to you,” Your voice quivered through the phone, he could hear every sharp breath you took. “Is it so bad that maybe I wanna be more than whatever this is with you? I don’t get you! You’re sweet to me and then the next you’re a dick and–”

“I’m scared, okay?! Now, listen to me…please,” He took your silence on the other line as a signal to go forth. “I know, I’m a mess. I shouldn’t have said the things I said. I wasn’t sober and I know that isn’t an excuse. I really wanna see you. I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone, so please come over. I need you, despite what I said, I really really fucking need you, this isn’t a booty call. Please…Y/N.” The desperation in his voice was evident.

Your side of the line went silent for what felt like an eternity. “Fine…I’ll be over in 10.”

“See you soon.”

Geto sat on his couch, anxiously waiting for your arrival. He was dizzy from still coming down from the high but also from the intense pressure he felt in his stomach from the thought of seeing you. What was he even going to say to you? He knew an “I’m sorry.” wouldn’t cut it. Pulling himself out of his mind he heard three knocks on his door. With shaky steps, he opened the door to see your face. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart, it was obvious to anyone that you had been crying due to the red veins prominent in your eyes.

“Wow…you look uh…rough,” Ouch…Your words were like a slap to the face. “You sure you only smoked?” You shook your head, his hair was slightly messy, and his eyes were blood, paired with eyebags and chapped lips.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” Geto retorted. Did he really look that bad?

“Hey! I have every right, especially after you were such a dick to me,” You gave him a look of disgust, shoving lightly on his shoulder. Geto couldn’t argue with that. “So…are gonna invite me in or punish me some more by making me stand out here..?”

Geto held himself back from rolling his eyes, repeating to himself over and over again that he deserved this treatment. He held the door wide open, motioning with his hand for you to enter.

You both sat down awkwardly sat down on the couch beside one another. Both of your bodies were painfully stiff as the silence ate the room up.

“So–” You both said at the same time, an awkward laugh resonating in your ears.

“Go ahead.”

Geto took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and find the right words. He was still a bit dazed. “For starters, I’m sorry. I said some pretty shitty things, things I don’t mean. I wasn’t in the right state of mind. I was faded and I was upset about how you left and…I guess I forgot what you mean to me.”

You sat there, staring into his brown eyes. Your mind was going over his words. You wanted to believe him…so badly. There was still one part that wanted to slap him across the face and tell him to never call you again and another part of you that just wanted to pepper him in kisses, tell him you forgive him. As you were about to speak, Geto spoke again.

“I know it’s not an excuse. I’m a dick to you, I know that. I’m scared and I can’t give you what you want but the idea of losing you drives me insane and I’m willing to try. I’m crazy about you, Y/N. I like you. I know I said I didn’t need you and that I can just find someone else to fuck but... I can’t, I only think about you. I only want you.”

You felt your mouth go dry at his sudden confession. You could hear the sincerity in his voice, the way his voice quivered when he spoke, how his eyes softened. You watched his hand reach over to hold your hand. His hands were cold and clammy, you could tell how anxious he was at this moment. You had to say something…anything.

“Suguru…” You paused and brought his hand up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “I know you’re sorry but you said some fucked up things. I wanna forgive you but I also…don’t want to at the same time.” You saw the way his face dropped at your words, his grip on your hand tightened. You hesitantly pulled him down to rest his head in the crook of your neck.

Chills went up and down your spine feeling his hot breath against your neck. You could smell the remnants of weed on him mixed in with his cologne. He felt so warm against you. You were so torn.

“How…how can I make it up to you?” Geto asked softly, as his arms snaked themselves around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You shivered at the contact. Your heartbeat picked up rapidly as you melted into his arms, running your fingers through his long raven hair. Your body always reacted this way to his touch. Geto was truly your weakness. Your breath hitched feeling his lips slowly start to lightly kiss the side of your neck.

“Suguru.” You gasped his name soothingly. He didn’t say anything, as he started to get more aggressive with his kisses. You could feel his tongue trace up your neck just under your jawline as he sucked on the skin, adding his mark.

“I wanna make you feel good, worship every part of your body.” He mumbled against your skin as his lips made their way up your own. His words sent a wave of arousal between your legs.

You hummed feeling his lips press against your own. His fingers dug into your waist, pulling you closer once again. Geto swiped his tongue along your bottom lip teasingly before venturing into your mouth. His tongue danced with yours, tasting you. One hand moved off your last to trail up for thigh, massaging it gently. You parted your legs for him, silently giving him consent.

Geto moved his hand further and further up your inner thigh. He could feel the heat from your core without even touching it. His fingers taunting grazed your clothed cunt that was aching for his touch. “Can I?” He asked against your lips. You nodded your head, moving your hips forward trying to get more friction from his fingers. Geto slipped his hand into your pajama shorts and panties, his fingers immediately finding your clit rubbing little circles on it.

He broke away from the kiss so he could watch your face contort into pleasure. “You’re so wet for me.” He moved his fingers away from your clit down to your entrance. Pushing two fingers in slowly, watching how your eyebrows furrowed together.

“Shiiit, oh–Suguru.” You moaned out softly. You wrapped your hand around his wrist, grinding against his hand to stimulate your clit as the pad of his fingers found and massaged your sensitive spot. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your jaw went slack. Geto leaned down to your neck to kiss and suck on the sensitive skin once again.

He groaned feeling your sticky walls slowly start to pulse around his fingers, he could tell you were so close to cumming. “You close? I can feel her squeezin’ my fingers so tight.” He got rougher with his movements.

“Oh my godd, fuck fuck, m’gonna cum Sugu.” You cried out, throwing your head back as you your thighs clamped together as he brought you to your orgasm. Your cum dripping into his palm.

“Fuckkk, you did so good, so good, princess. Such a good girl.” He pulled his hand out of your shorts, bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean, making sure to maintain eye contact. His member throbbed just from tasting your sweet cum. “Mmm, you’re so sweet. I need more, wanna feel you cum on my tongue. Please.”

“B-but what about you?” You gasped feeling him scoop you up into his arms, carrying you away to his bedroom.

“Baby, I told you I wanted to worship you, make you feel good. So let me, yeah?” He gently placed you down on the edge of the bed. His fingers tugged on your bottoms, taking them off along with your panties.

He got down onto his knees, placing both of your legs on his shoulders. He teasingly kissed each side of your inner thighs, inching his face closer to your dripping cunt. He licked your folds, making you hiss and arch your back off the bed. He finally stuck his tongue into you, feeling the wetness coat his tongue. He swiped the tip of his tongue on your swollen bud a few times before sucking it into his mouth. “Hmmmm.” He groaned, shaking his head back and forth adding to the stimulation.

You propped yourself up onto your elbows to look down at him. His eyes were closed as he sucked harder on your clit. “Oh fuck! Don’t stop.” You squirmed as his tongue worked you, he moved his hand on your thigh to place his on your pelvis. Moving his tongue away he used his thumb to rub your clit so he could fuck you with his tongue. “Sugu! Ahhh oh my–fuckk.” Your arms gave out on you, feeling his tongue venture inside you.

With all this pleasure your orgasm crashed over you, and your fingers dug into the sheets. “I’m cumming, cummin’!” Your hips bucked up, and Geto pressed you firmly down on you to keep you still. He opened his eyes to watch your shake above his. His eyes widened feeling your walls clamp down around his tongue, your sweet cum flooding into his mouth. He pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You’re so sweet, I could eat you out for hours,” He crawled up to you, pushing his groin against your pelvis. You could feel how hard he was. “But I really need to fuck you.” He whispered in your ear, as his hand went under your shirt. Massaging your breast through your bra. “Tell me you want me to.”

“Sugu, need you bad. Wan’ you to fuck me.” You tugged on the hem of his shirt, wanting it off of him. He moved up a bit allowing you to strip him free from his shirt, he did the the same to you. He put his arm behind your back to free your breasts.

“Fuuuck, these are so pretty too.” Getos mouth fell open admiring your hard nipples. “Gotta give these pretty girls some attention too.” He took both of your boobs into his hands massaging them, his mouth moving to the right one to suck on the nipple, swirling his tongue around it. While his finger paid attention to the other, pinching your nipple between his pointer and thumb finger, rolling it between his fingers.

“Sugu, please, just fuck me.” You whined and tangled your fingers into his hair, tugging on it lightly. “I need to feel you inside me, baby.”

Geto felt his pre-cum leak from his tip at your words, he pulled off your tit with a wet pop. “I love it when you talk dirty to me. Makes me so fucking hard.” Geto growled and stood up, swiftly taking his jeans off along with his boxers. His tip was an angry red from being neglected this whole time. “M’gonna fuck you sooo good, baby.”

He positioned himself on the bed between your legs, parting them wide enough for him to fit. He teasingly rubbed his tip against your overstimulated clit. “J-just put in Suguru.” You wiggled your hips enticingly.

“So desperate for me, god, you're so cute.” Geto smiled and shook his head. He finally brought his fat tip down to your entrance, slowly pressing himself inside you with little to no resistance due to you cumming two times already. But you were still just as tight. “Oh shiiit, mmmhm,” He pushed in inch by inch, finally filling you to the hilt. “M’gonna move now, okay?” He threw your legs onto his shoulders, sinking in even deeper as he pressed your knees to your chest.

“Mmmph, yes please move.” You nibbled onto your bottom lip, watching his cock start to thrust in and out of your, the way your skin rippled when he’d give a harder stroke. You felt butterflies in your stomach watching him.

“Look at me, wanna see that pretty face when I fuck your brains out.” Geto puts his hand on your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Yeahh, just like that. You’re so f-full of me.” He groaned and gave you much deeper strokes, his jaw falling open into an ‘o’ as he felt your cunt squeeze around him even tighters.

“Mmmm, yeahhh, fuck you’re gonna make me cum.” He could feel your juices drip down him as thrusted in and out. His cock-head hitting your soft spot over and over again, making your toes curl. You moved your arms to wrap around his neck. Your mouth feel open, Geto took the opportunity to lean down closer to you, spitting into your mouth. His cock twitched inside you, watching as you greedily swallowed it up.

“M-more.” You begged him and held your mouth open with your tongue out.

“You’re so nasty, I love it.” He leaned down, letting his saliva trickle down to your tongue, swallowing it up again. Watching you be like this pushed him even closer to the edge. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. “Oh fuck, m’gonna cum. Gonna fill you up? You want that? T-to be full of me? Full of my cum?”

“Yesyesyes, please. I’m gonna cum too, cum with me.” You whimpered out, feeling a knot form in your stomach as your thighs began to shake. Geto messily thrusted into you, groaning loudly as he felt your walls flutter around him, forcing him to his own orgasm as white ropes of his cum filled you to the brim.

“Fuck, baby. You’re milking me dry.” He gave you a few more deep thrusts, pressing his forehead against yours. “You did such a good job, you’re so beautiful.” He gently kissed you while relishing in your tightness for a few more seconds. He reluctantly pulled out and laid beside you in the bed.

You lay there beside him, looking sweetly at him, while he pushed a sweaty strand of hair away from your face. Despite him saying it wasn’t a “booty call.” it ended like one. Pulling yourself back to reality and reminding yourself why you came here in the first place. You reluctantly sat up. “I’m gonna head home.” You cleared your throat and were about to stand up when Geto held tightly onto your arm.

“Please stay, spend the night.” Geto has never let you spend the night before, he usually leaves or tells you you should head home.

“Y-you sure?” You look back at him, trying to search for any uncertainty on his face but there wasn’t any. If anything he looked desperate.

“Please, I’m trying this with you, so please give me a chance to prove that I’m serious about this, serious about you.” You couldn’t help but smile at his words.

“Alright, I’ll stay.”

You two lay in each other's embrace. Geto wasn’t sure how this would go but he was willing to try this for you.

427 notes · View notes

torasplanet · 6 months

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❝𝙎𝙏𝙐𝘿𝙔 𝙎𝙀𝙎𝙃.ᐟ❞

A. ARLERT + YEAGER!F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; eren made your grade in history drop 'cause he's a fat jerk! so what better way to get back at your dear brother than to fuck his best friend behind his back?

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; smut, fluff, aftercare, riding, p in v, nerd!armin, kinda slut!reader, eren being eren, like two flashbacks, armin being a sorta good best friend, praise, petnames (baby), kinda switch!armin, childhood crush to lovers, reader having a HUGEE crush on 'minnie >o<, seduction, loverboy! armin, eren being jean's #1 h8r, round two hinted at end, college au, lingere, armin wears glasses cuz i said so >:( !!, kinda sappy, unedited might do it l8r idk, science shit cuz im a nerd, skin color not mentioned

Eren was the worst big brother ever.

You wouldn’t have chosen to live with him if housing wasn’t so expensive and you two didn’t go to the same college because he’s annoying as shit. He always holds it against you that you’re living with him whenever you tell him to leave you alone. He was probably the worst person ever to be honest and what he had done yesterday was not helping his case one bit.

See, eren was a coffee person and not one of those regular coffee people. The ones that go insane without their dark roast.

Not so surprising when he’s a college student but he’d never been once before being enrolled so you still weren’t used to him drinking it so when he went into your room saying he forgot something in there with a mug in his hand, you didn’t think much of it and stayed in your spot on the couch watching some random Netflix show you liked, you’d watched it a thousand times but it still entertained you but not enough that you didn’t hear eren curse from your room.

When you rushed up to go inside and ask what in the fuck he did, you couldn't even speak when you saw dark brown liquid spilled all over your five-page essay that was on your desk and there was no saving these, they were completely soaked and the words were mixing because of the wetness of the paper. You cursed your professor for making you write it on paper because this could easily happen. And with Eren being as clumsy as he is, of course, he was the one to make it happen.

He didn’t even care that much either! He just said ‘Whoops, sorry.’ and left, he didn’t offer to redo it for you or anything! And because of him, your grade in history has dropped by a lot. Like a B to an F-. You didn’t even know an F- was possible!

Eren was going to pay for this one way or another, but the issue with upsetting him was that Eren didn’t care about most things in the world. You could cut his hair in his sleep and he’d just get a new haircut, you could key his car and he’d be mad but he’d probably do worse to you. You could tell Mikasa about all the embarrassing dreams he’s had about her but he’d just deny it and then punch you later.

But the one thing that would send Eren off the rails was getting with one of his friends. Eren didn’t care if you were friends with his friends but if you even thought about liking one of them, he’d shut that shit down immediately. The idea of you getting with any of his friends disgusted him and he never wanted it to happen which is why you were going to do that; not only were you going to do that but you were going to do it behind his back which would just piss him off more once he eventually found out.

Sure it was extreme but it was the only thing that would actually fuck with him and that wasn’t your fault plus he was friends with a bunch of hot people…including, Armin.

Armin Arlert. Eren’s best friend since they were little kids, you often saw him a lot in your childhood and still saw him a lot in the present and you liked that. Armin was a cutie ever since you guys were young, even with his long hair he was a cutie but now that he cut it short, he was hot. So with your choice of revenge and Armin being hot, you practically had everything laid out.

You didn’t know how Eren would find out or if you would tell him but you got the seduction and the fucking part down! That’s all you needed honestly.

Most of this was so you could get back at Eren but at the same time, some of it was because you had the tiniest crush on Armin ever since you both were little kids. Even though you’ve fucked a bunch of guys, had them sleep over, and dated a lot, your micro feelings for Armin were always resting in the back of your head coming to the surface when you were alone in your room with your hand between your thighs in your panties and a pillow pressed to your face to block your moans.

You’ve been doing that for quite a while as you’ve wanted Armin for years.

Since his junior year and your sophomore when you two landed in the same mixed gym class, he had his blonde bob and wore glasses during that time but you still wanted him. That one class when some loser let his hand slip and hit you in the face with a dodgeball; Armin was helping you to your feet with his hand accidentally cupping your ass which he, of course, apologized for but you didn’t mind. Not at all.

You wanted to tell him that so badly but of course there was Eren ruining everything after he got done yelling at that loser for hitting you. For the first time ever, eren decided to be a good big brother and not let Zeke fill that role instead and take you to the nurse when all you wanted was for Armin to take you there. You thought you’d get him to take you another way if he did but of course, Eren had to be a cock-block even when you both got back to class.

“Ah is she okay!?” Armin asked loudly as he rushed over to you and Eren as you both walked through the gymnasium doors with you holding a paper towel to your nose that was just running with blood in hopes that it wouldn’t continue its rapid flow. Eren took his arm from around your shoulders as he hummed “Yeah, she’s okay. It’s not broken or anything.” Armin let out a relieved sigh at your brother's words as he pushed his rectangle-framed glasses up while you shamelessly stared at him in his gym uniform that seemed a little too tight for him. You could see his scrawny body with little to no muscle (he’s working on it okay!) through his shirt.

Armin made eye contact with you “That’s good, thought we’d have to call Zeke to get you.” He said sweetly which made a smile appear on your face but it quickly fell at the sound of your brother’s voice “Yeah, thought I’d have to get Ymir and beat the hell out of that guy.” Ugh, he was annoying. Eren knew he couldn’t kick anyone's ass even if he had Superman’s powers and yet he was still saying he would.

Of course, Armin looked at him concerningly but said nothing and shook his head before turning to you once more “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He told you comfortingly as he embraced you into a hug with his hands resting on your lower back, you wished that they went even lower like they did before but what he whispered next into your ear really made you want that “Don’t tell Eren about earlier, ‘kay? He’d be so mad.”

He said it like he meant to put his hands on your ass which contradicted his previous apology and it riled you up and made your childhood crush really blossom and now…you had finally gotten your chance to act out all those fantasies and thoughts you had due to his words and piss Eren off at the same time. It’s like a dream come true!

So when you were getting ready to go to Armin's dorm on college campus for your study session that was hopefully going to turn into more, you made sure to put on the cutest black lace thong with a matching bra that was practically see-through, you could see the darkness of your nipples showing through the fabric before you put on your skimpy top and tight-fitting shorts.

Falsies fluttered constantly as you looked through them peering up at Armin’s dorm door waiting for him to come and open the door for you and his study session. You perked up at the sound of the door unlocking before it opened revealing the blonde already staring at you but his gaze turned confused very quickly and you knew why.

You looked stupid, didn’t you? Here for a study session and yet there was nothing in your hands, no books, no pencil, nothing. Everything you needed was in the pockets of your shorts, your phone, and of course a condom. “Hi Armin, can I come in?” You questioned looking him up and down, he was wearing the white tee and grey sweatpants combo that almost made you drop to your knees while foaming at the mouth clawing at the waistband of his pants in the middle of this hallway.

His blue eyes drifted down to your boobs that were practically out of your shirt but quickly returned to your face that had gained a promiscuous smirk at the drifting of his gaze “Uh y-yeah, sure.” Armin stammered shaking his head seemingly to snap himself out of a trance that your body put him in. He moved out of the way and let you walk inside the dorm room that he shared with Bertholdt but clearly, the male wasn’t here which would make this all the easier for you “So what do you need help with exactly, you didn’t bring anything?” Armin asked his voice less nervous than it was before as he closed the door and leaned against it while his eyes followed your body as you sat on the edge of his neatly-done bed kicking your shoes off.

You blinked your falsies at him as you leaned back on your palms “A lot, I just thought I’d watch you y’know…do some of the work.” You replied making sure to purse your glossy lips out a bit with your words as you gazed at the blonde that was inching closer to you “I think it’s easier if I watch someone like you do it.” It wasn’t a lie, you weren’t very good at science and Armin was but you were playing it up a little bit. Like you needed him…well you did just not in the way you were telling him.

Armin nervously crept over to his desk that had his PC and everything on it which was sometimes used to play video games loudly with Eren, Connie, and Jean but its main use was for school work “What do you mean?” He asked as you stood up grabbed a chair from Bertholdt’s side of the room and sat down right next to Armin who was glancing down at your cleavage and your thighs, and who knows what he was looking at when your back was turned. You never took Armin for a perv but you weren’t hating the idea of that.

“I mean smart people, eren’s useless so he can’t help me and Mikasa never has time. She’s always with Eren in his room.” You blabber watching as Armin’s blue eyes were focused on his computer screen which was now showing the science homework you two had and you saw all his little glimpses toward you and your chest but you didn’t say anything and sat there all pretty like you had no clue what he was doing. When for the first time ever you knew.

Whenever Armin talked about things he liked such as the ocean, ‘nerd stuff’, and whatnot, you were the only one who really listened. Like actually listened to the point when he referenced something from previous conversations, you were the only one who remembered every single thing. It was a miracle that no one knew about your crush, well no one cared to say anything because if pretty much any of the guys knew, they’d definitely say something and laugh at you for doing something so stupid that would make Eren murder someone.

Armin’s cheeks turned pink at the mention of Eren and Mikasa's private relations “What about the times he’s not?” You merely shook your head at his question as you watched him solve the science problems easily “It’s still easier to watch you. You’re smarter than Eren.” You said wrapping your arms around Armin’s and leaning against him snuggling your head into his shoulder and you felt Armin tense up at this action but he didn’t say anything about it.

“Thanks, (n/n),” Armin said with a sheepish smile as he glanced down at you before back at the computer screen. You placed your other hand on his thigh not wanting to waste any time here because Bertholdt could be back any minute, you didn’t even know where he was but you just didn’t want him to come back anytime soon.

A whimper let out from Armin’s lips as you began to rub his thigh gently moving your hand up closer to his crotch but only subtly though he could tell. Armin could tell anytime you touched him compared to someone else's no matter where you put your hands. Your hands were gentle when they touched him almost like you were scared to touch him. You weren’t.

You wanted to be as close to him as possible and savored every touch you got with him, you were definitely going to savor this night even if it was just a one-time thing “You’ve always been smart Armin…I thought it was cute.” You muttered softly as you looked up at the male who was already looking down at you nervously, his expression was so cute! His flushed face, his nervous gaze, and how he was nearly sweating just by your hand on his thigh.

“I still do y’know.” Your hand trailed up to the waistband of his sweatpants but you didn’t do anything but sink your fingertips past them just pulling them away from his skin and letting it slap back against his soft pale flesh. His skinny hand came down and placed itself on top of yours stopping you as you felt warmness overtake your skin “We–...We shouldn’t do this (n/n).” The blonde male said as he looked down at you like he was scared but he was obviously enjoying it with the movement you felt coming from his sweatpants.

The clacking of his keyboard had stopped and it was now silent in the room “Do you not want to?” You asked slowly drawing your hand away but his hand which was just resting on top of yours now had a tight hold on yours and was holding it in place which startled you, it was a drastic change from how gentle he always was with just his hand on yours.

Armin looked away as if he was ashamed of his actions “I just think Eren would be mad.” You knew that was coming soon, Armin was a lot of things, and stupid was definitely not one of them, not even a little bit and you knew he’d catch onto what you were trying to do and tell you something about Eren and blah blah blah but you obviously didn’t care much for that, only what he really wanted to do.

With his hold on your hand, it’s obvious he didn’t want you to go anywhere but you still had to make sure “But do you want to?” You questioned again ignoring his previous statement about your brother and how he might disapprove of it. Eren was a dick and if he wanted to play that card, you could too. You could be a dick by riding his best friend’s.

Armin stared down at you for a while thinking about what he should say and what it would mean if he said something “Yes but–” With that, your fingers went back to his waistband but this time you were gently pulling them down but not completely yet, just teasingly “...what if eren finds out? He’ll be so mad at me.” Armin continued saying those words he said in high school but a bit differently and the context behind it was very different and not just a small accident.

You glanced down at the band of his Nike Pros before looking back up at him through your lashes “I don’t care. Why do you? You want it right?” Armin was quick to nod at your question making a smile stretch across your glossy lips as you ran the tip of your finger over the Nike Logo on his boxers “Yeah…I guess he doesn’t have to find out, right?” Armin said leaning back in his chair his eyes locked on your fingers just wanting them to inch closer to his crotch nearly bitting into the softness of his pink bottom lip that was almost the same color as the apples of his cheeks that showed his enjoyment and flustered feeling.

You shook your head not breaking eye contact with him “I won’t say anything.” You said seductively allowing your hands to slip past the waistband of his boxers and into the small bush of his blonde pubes before lowering it further to his cock.

Armin’s back arched slightly as he felt your hands wrap around him “I w-won’t say anything either.” He sputtered out as you moved your hand up and down while remaining eye contact with him, god you were such a bitch. Keeping eye contact with him while slowly jerking him off knowing it’d make him more embarrassed and completely bricked.

You leaned up releasing your hold on his arm and pressing a kiss to his lips that were letting out small whimpers and grunts. It grew sloppy very fast with Armin being eager. His hips were bucking up into your hand and his hands were just by his side not knowing where to go or what to touch, maybe your wrist? Your waist? Your shoulder? Or should he just keep them where they were? His mind was full of just you and only you that he couldn’t even think straight and you hadn’t even really begun to do anything yet.

You moaned into his mouth as he did the same before gently pulling away with a thin string of saliva connecting you two, your lip gloss was now on his lips and even around it, you could only imagine what it looked like on your lips now. Armin watched as your head tilted down to the movement you were causing in the confinements of his pants before you looked right back at him tilting your head curiously.

“Can I?” Armin wasn’t sure exactly what you were asking here but he had an idea so he nodded ferociously but when your hand left his pants, he got confused.

When he saw you beginning to take off your panties and shorts in one go, that’s when he caught on and began to do the same. He lifted his hips to slide off his grey sweatpants and then his all-black Nike Pros allowing both of the clothing articles to pool at his ankles as he sat there awkwardly waiting for you.

You grinned up at Armin before transferring yourself to his lap using it as a chair but you were just hovering over him now with your knees on each side of him supporting your body as you lined him up with your dripping cunt.

Armin’s hands instinctively went to your waist as you rested on his shoulders. The male stared up at you as you carefully perfected the lineup to make sure he didn’t miss the hole, he’d wanted you for the longest and he finally was going to get you. I mean, this wasn’t how he was planning on it going down, he was going to ask you out and then you guys would get to this part but this was okay too. It was great actually because he didn’t know if he could wait until you two started to date to get some of you. He definitely could not but good thing you’re a slut right?

A loud moan left your mouth as you slowly lowered yourself onto Armin’s cock making him throw his head back while he leaned back in his chair.

His back arched as you fully sunk, his legs spread allowing you to bottom out as you let out a whimper at Armin’s nails digging into the bare flesh of your hips harshly surely leaving indents there “Are you okay?” Armin asked as he managed to open his eyes and look at you reaching up one of his hands to cup your cheek carefully.

That’s one of the things you loved most about him. He was always thinking about other people. You were sure Armin was losing his mind right now by the way he was scarcely thrusting up into you and the grunts in between his words and yet he was still making sure you were okay when you were way more than okay. Nearly losing yourself in how full you felt but you were still feeling amazing.

You nodded your head as you smiled at him “Of course. Are you?” Armin nodded silently at your question taking in the warmth of being inside you and how tight you were, squeezing him every other second. You began to play with his hair slicking it back and running your fingers through it making a mess of the beautiful blonde locks. You wish you’d been able to do this when he had his long hair but this was just as enjoyable.

Armin leaned in for a kiss again which you happily obliged to. The kiss started sweet and soft as your hands went to his neck holding onto him for support as you began to grind on him rubbing your thighs against his which made the brutal feeling of his nails piercing into your skin grow. You and Armin's tongues fought for dominance with it quickly ending with Armin taking control, you’d like to say you let him but you didn’t. He won the battle and got a little rougher with his win.

He kissed you harsher as he pulled you closer to his body. Armin lifted you taking you by surprise before slamming you back down on him making you shout into the kiss and biting down onto Armin’s lip “Sorry…” You muttered as you broke the kiss watching as Armin touched his bottom lip which was bleeding a bit before looking down at the tip of his finger “It’s fine. Just keep going, baby.” You couldn’t even think of a response and just continued your grinding but this time you were bouncing a bit closing your eyes as you moaned.

Armin’s hand snuck up your shirt and under your bra squeezing your boob roughly as he went and buried his face in your neck kissing and sucking on you, covering the bare skin with purple marks some darker than others. His nails released their hold on your skin and his hand trailed down to your butt harshly groping it as he bit down on your neck smearing the blood of his lip all over your neck.

“Fuck.” You cursed getting quicker with your pace as you fucked yourself on his cock while whimpering like a slut. It’s a little crazy how Armin was just the one that was whimpering a second ago but now you were and he was the cause.

You never pictured Armin as a rough lover. In your fantasies, he was always so gentle, so calm, his fingers softly trailing over your skin as he whispered comforting words into your ears. Nothing like how he was in reality, biting you, covering you in hickies, creating indents in your skin from how rough he was grabbing you.

You weren’t necessarily complaining, it just took you by surprise and you didn’t know how to react other than with your moans of delight “So pretty. You put this on for me?” Armin asked as he backed away from your neck leaning right back in his chair as he lifted your shirt revealing the lacy bra, you didn’t even say anything and just nodded rapidly while continuing to moan “Was for me to take off or look at ‘cus...I don’t know which one I wanna do.” The blonde cooed looking up at you as you finally opened your eyes to look at him. You’ve never really seen Armin look at you like that, you’ve never seen him look at anyone like that. His eyes lidded damn nere closed, lust in his eyes, a smirk on his face and it seemed as if the blue of his eyes were more noticeable than usual. They were practically glowing as they traveled up and down your half-naked body.

“I don’t know…” You blabbered. You couldn’t even remember what you put the bra on for if it was just for him to look at or if it was for him to take it off too. You just wanted to look pretty for him and didn’t think that far ahead into what he would do “C’mon baby…you gotta know.” Armin whispered slapping a hand on your ass and making you jolt up earning a small whimper from him.

If you didn’t know before, you definitely don’t know now with how he was talking to you “W-Which ever you want.” You sputtered out as you slowed down your movements trying to compose yourself your eyes shutting close again.

Armin hummed in delight at your words “Really? I think I’m gonna keep it on you. Makes ‘em look so pretty.” He spoke lowly running one of his fingers over the pattern of the lace, his eyes locked on your boobs less ashamed now. You nodded and hummed as you sat still on him getting more sensitive by the moment just from him being inside of you.

The male’s blue eyes drifted down to where you two were connected and looked back up at you “Baby, you’re gorgeous and I love you but I’m gonna need you to move a little faster f’me.” Armin cooed smiling up at you. It’s not like you were going fast exactly before you stopped but something was better than nothing even if he wanted much more.

You smiled brightly and opened your eyes peering down at him “I love you too Armin.” The blonde let out a laugh and his smile widened. It was no surprise that you only paid attention to that part of his sentence, it looked like there was nothing in that head of yours anymore “You need me to take control? You can just lay there and look pretty, I don’t mind.” He said sweetly tilting his head slightly making his blonde hair sway and it made him look even more pretty.

No matter how much he cut his hair, his golden locks were always so silky especially when they moved in the slightest tilt of his head or the small blow of the wind “No, I-I got it.” You said placing your hands on his chest before beginning to move once more but this time you weren’t grinding with the addition of small bouncing, you were going up and down making slapping sounds echo off the off-white walls with wet sounds following it.

Groans escaped Armin’s throat with some slips of whimpers and whines as he threw his head back, hands gripping your ass as if his life depended on it while your tits bounced in the lacy fabric in his face. Armin’s blue eyes stayed focused on you and didn’t close once, he wanted to keep looking at you and how pretty you looked with your mouth wide open letting out pornographic sounds.

Armin had never admitted it to anyone in the world but he always thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He believed it when he was young and still believed it.

Even though he hadn’t told anyone about it, a few people caught on when he was younger maybe in his elementary or middle school years? He didn’t quite remember but what he did remember was when Eren came to him during their math class and told him about how obvious his feelings for you were. Armin was so embarrassed when that happened and a little devastated by what Eren said but he did it anyway because that was his best friend and he’d do anything for him.

But looking back at that, he was sure he only agreed to that because Eren was his only friend and he was very much a pushover.

“Armin, I know you like my sister.” Eren had told him when sitting down on the empty desk beside the blonde’s with a straight face. Armin’s face went pale and his eyes widened in shock at that moment not knowing what to say as he was just doing long division a second ago.

He dropped his #2 pencil on the worksheet and pushed his glasses up “Don’t lie. I always see you looking at her.” Eren said narrowing his eyes at his friend practically sensing that guilty excuses of denial were soon going to start pouring out of his friend’s mouth “Sorry eren…She’s just…very pretty.” The long-haired boy muttered as he began fumbling with his fingers while looking at his lap refusing to meet his friend’s eyes.

Eren sighed as he dropped his head understanding how he was probably making his friend very nervous “I know. I can’t keep those stupid soccer boys away from her.” He grumbled remembering all the times he’s literally had to jump in front of you with his arms in the air yelling for them to back away from his little sister. He didn’t think you were old enough to be dating even though he’s had his fair share of five-day relationships. Eren would use that excuse for you until you were in the eighth grade and would then lay out a list of guys you shouldn’t date because ‘they’re the worst guys ever’ which consisted of soccer guys, basketball guys, and Jean. Jean was the only specific name on there.

Armin glanced up at his friend still nervous as he shuffled in his seat “Look, I don’t care if you like her or anything but don’t date her! I’d love to have you as a brother but she’s super annoying, you deserve better than her.” Eren said with a small pout on his lips making Armin laugh but the blue-eyed boy nodded while agreeing with the conditions “Okay eren. I won’t date her.”

It was stupid how he told Eren that but continued to like you after all this time. Armin was sure that the ‘deserved better than her’ reason had worn off now and was replaced by something like ‘It’s just so gross’ and Armin understood where Eren was coming from now. He and Eren had kissed two times at two separate parties both times with them being basically blackout drunk and of course, you didn’t know, no one knew and that’s the way both of them wanted it to stay, and Eren seeing him start dating his sister after all of that would be very weird for Eren and Armin. Armin still wanted to date you regardless though but was still considering how Eren would feel about it.

But who said he couldn’t fuck you? Eren didn’t have to know about that and if he did find out, it’d just be something to ease him into accepting Armin dating you.

Plus, it’s not like Armin cared very much about what Eren felt now that he was six inches deep inside of the warmth of your soaking cunt.

“Ughn! Shit, you feel so good.” Armin whined loudly as he squeezed his eyes closed feeling a tightness in his stomach but he quickly snapped them back open reminding himself of the beauty in front of him who was quite literally doing all the work to make him and herself feel good. Shit, by the way, you were fucking yourself out, he wouldn’t have cared if you wanted to peg the shit outta him.

The pleasure both of you felt was soon interrupted by a loud ringing of someone’s phone. You opened your eyes and turned your head around slowing the bouncing and resorting to grinding which made Armin hate phones “Who is it?” He asked though it came out as a whine with his heavy breathing. You saw his phone glowing and ringing on the desk which his PC sat on and you squinted trying to see the contact name through the growing tears of pleasure and when you saw it your eyes widened and you let out a whine of frustration.

It was Eren. Stupid Eren being a cockblock once again.

Yeah, you did this whole thing to get back at Eren and take advantage of your anger against your brother to finally do what you’ve wanted to for a while but if he called, you were going to stop. Having your brother listen to you fucking his best friend was disgusting. His finding out about it was a whole other thing and now in the state of mind you were from this dick that made you dumb, you didn’t really care too much about if he’d find out at all.

Fuck, this wasn’t even about getting back at Eren anymore. This was about feeling your desire and your need for the blonde.

“S’ eren…” You muttered turning back to Armin with a saddened look on your face and his eyes widened too seemingly snapping out of whatever trance you had put him in. He took his hand off the flesh of your ass and went to reach for his phone with his hand trembling from the pleasure he was still receiving from your small movements but you placed one of your hands on the desk in front of the phone before he could grab it.

You shook your head as you sped up the pace lifting yourself up and down once more “Don’t get it.” You pleaded looking down at Armin hoping to persuade him to just ignore the call and he didn’t say anything and just stared back at you. He broke eye contact and looked behind you seeing the phone and sighed. He knew Eren was just going to keep calling until he eventually got the idea that he was not going to answer the phone and he’d definitely get scolded for not picking up.

Fuck it. It’s whatever.

“Fine.” The Arlert male said looking back up at you and you smiled slightly before picking up the pace making Armin’s calm manner quickly disappear and back into his little whines and deep groans “Fuck, you killing me.” Armin said with a groan his hand gripping the edge of the desk and his other digging his short nails into your ass once again remaking the marks that had faded.

You leaned down and began placing sloppy kisses onto the fair-colored skin of his neck and he gave you full access with his head being thrown back. Your body pressed further against his with your boobs pressing against his hard chest making you moan onto his neck from the feeling of your sensitive nipples pressing against him.

You could feel yourself inching closer and closer to a release with every second and every bounce. You were falling more in love with Armin as his pretty groans and whimpers filled the silence along with yours, he was so sweet, so gentle yet still so rough but it was the perfect balance.

That balance was pleasurable enough but the sound of your moans mixing with his was like the most perfect lemonade to ever exist. Sweet and Sour, the sour was his occasional deep groans after the sweetness of his whimpers had run out.

Your back arched as you let out a loud whine letting go and cumming all over his cock biting down on his neck as your toes curled.

However, Armin hadn’t cum and he was not done. Not one bit. His other hand came back to your ass and he continued to bounce you up and down even after you had stopped to catch your breath “Sorry…just need this s’bad!” Armin apologized with his voice wavering. You weren’t really sure what he was apologizing for exactly, maybe the increase in roughness? Maybe the sudden force? It didn’t matter because you didn’t care. He was just helping you ride out your orgasm. Well, the rest of it.

Soon you felt his warm seed sputtering inside of you and filling you all up, it seemed endless until it stopped “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” Armin asked through his deep breaths, his chest rising and falling under your sweaty palm as you retracted your face from the crook of his neck to look at him breathing just as heavy as he was.

You shook your head lightly “No, m’ okay…” You whispered as you tried to catch your breath and Armin nodded at your answer.

His hands went to your hips much gentler than they were before almost as if you were fine china and it was the first time he was using you and in a way, it was. He lifted you from his limp cock with ease and allowed you to stand to your feet but your legs and feet had fallen asleep by now, it’d be pretty hard to walk home now “What are you doing?” Armin asked as he saw you bending over to grab the clothes you had discarded while he pulled up his Nike Pros but kicked the sweatpants off.

You looked at him not really knowing what to say and just shrugged your shoulders “Can’t leave yet, I still gotta clean you up.” Armin said standing to his feet and swooping you into his arms not asking you or giving you any heads-up so you sat there being carried confused as to what he was doing.

“I just do that myself when I get home.” You said as the blonde carried you to the bathroom kicking open the cracked door before waddling over to the tub “Why? It’s the least I can do, you were practically doing all the work.” Armin said laughing awkwardly as he set you inside the porcelain tub being careful before reaching over and letting you take the remainder of your clothing off before turning on the faucet letting the warm water flow into the tub and onto your feet.

It wasn’t necessarily a secret that you had your more than fair share of horrible boyfriends but not everyone in the world knew. Armin and a few of you two’s other friends knew because either you told them or Eren blabbed his mouth to them about every time you’d complain to him about some stupid guy and that’s the reason why Armin knew about almost everything.

Since the ninth grade, he’d heard from Eren about all the horrible guys you’ve dated who played you, lied, cheated, yelled, even left you stranded at a party and all Armin wished was that you found a guy that actually found the sweetness and greatness in you. He wished more than anything that it would be him.

He dreamed about all the things he’d do for you, to you, and with you, that’d put a smile on your face. All the things you’d deserve that he’d give you even if it nearly killed him.

He wanted that more than ever right now as he looked at you relaxing in the hot water that was filling up the tub very fast. He reached his hand into the tub and grabbed yours holding it comfortingly and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles which made your eyes open and dart to him “I love you (y/n).” Armin spoke softly leaning his cheek against the side of his tub never looking away from you with his light-colored eyelashes fluttering with minor blinks and it seemed as if he was trying to stop blinking so he wouldn’t waste a single second looking away from you.

“I love you too Armin.” You said with a kind smile on your face as you squeezed his hand with his cheeks turning red from your words. Your smile slowly turned from kind to mischievous as your pure thoughts changed to the complete opposite realizing you were naked.

You lifted your foot out of the tub and rested it on the edge which drew the blonde’s attention “Y’know armin…I didn’t learn much from your study session.” You whispered looking back up at Armin who very quickly caught onto what you were trying to say and got incredibly embarrassed “Come on, you’re the one that called it that…” He muttered lifting his head from the side of the tub as he looked away from you his cheeks burning a bright red.

That was true, you were the one who called it that but you both didn’t even attempt to get down to the science. Got down and dirty before Armin could even get to the beginning of the science work “Yeah but I hope we get another one, I actually wanna learn somethin’.” You said shrugging your shoulders as you placed your other leg on the other side of the tub spreading them.

Armin’s eyes were locked on your wet legs as water dripped in droplets from your calves, he wondered if his cum was still there or if it had washed out into the water “What next? Seems like you got biology down pretty good.” He said meeting your eyes again with a smile on his face that matched yours.

“Maybe neuroscience. I can teach you stuff too like what makes girls happy.” Armin almost laughed at how you were referring to serotonin but clearly forgot what it was called, he would’ve if he didn’t watch how the drops of water rolled down your tits to your areolas and down to your tummy.

Armin brought his hand to your leg and rubbed it up and down making you bite down into your lip “I think I know what makes girls happy.” He said his hand growing closer to your crotch moving down to your inner thigh and the ache in your cunt returned practically pulsing as you watched the way he looked at you. Seemed he realized the way you were squeezing around nothing.

You tilted your head as you looked at him sinking deeper into the warm water “Really? What makes me happy then?” You questioned with a whine slipping out with each inch Armin’s hand came closer and his smirk widened as the glowing in his eyes returned as if he was some sort of predator getting ready to pounce and eat you alive.

“Me.”

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

#torasplanet.ᐟ #eren yeager #marls-fics.ᐟ #armin arlert #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert smut #aot x reader #aot smut #aot college au #armin arlert fluff #so sappyyy #can u tell when i got sad halfway through writing this #◛⑅·˚armin;p

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haet-sal · 1 year

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Avenging Angel Dystopia // monster!seonghwa x reader x yunho (you cheat on yunho with non-human seonghwa)

In a barren, dictatorship-controlled nation, you lead a simple life with your boyfriend Yunho, a pianist, too oppressed to rebel. As stories of the people in high society being murdered run through the news, you come to find out who—or what—is behind these killings.

Tags: JUST SKIP TO THE SMUT IF YOU WANT you monsterfucker, yunho x reader (established, no smut), seonghwa x reader smut, cunnilingus + P in v, unprotected but hes not human

Warnings: politics tw, murder tw, seonghwa is literal man-eating monster tw, religion tw (but no prophets and jesus/god are mentioned, just seonghwa is an angel. There are scenes of praying)

w.c.: 7k

Excerpt: He knew every single thing you were feeling, and if it were something that could be shrouded, you’d cover yourself… you feel your mind was naked in front of him, every dirty thought.

Seonghwa grew agitated by your own thoughts of nakedness, dirtiness, your corrupted mind—to distract the both of your from all those thoughts, he rushes to you, catching you in a devouring kiss, so red and hot that it could light up and heat up the dark, gelid apartment.

You taste iron on his tongue, like bars in jail cells, like rusted knives, like blood. As soon as you remember the taste of blood, you pull away. Remembering he isn’t human. Remembering what he does, what he has done. His nature.

“I understand if it’s too much for you,” he says. “I understand if you find it hard to be with me this way.”

“You read my mind, you know that’s not true, you know I want you.”

A smile ghosted his lips. “Good thing I live in the in-between. Not quite angel, not quite demon, not quite human.”

You’re making sandwiches for Yunho so he can take them to his tutoring job, when your boyfriend bursts through the room, hurriedly, clutching journal paper in his hands. “Yunho,” you sighed, more afraid than anything, “those are contraband.”

“I just had to buy this month’s issue,” Yunho says as he paged through the detached pages, made with no sense of expertise. “There’s good news in them, I just had to read about it.”

“Yunho…” you sighed. “If they catch us with contraband newspapers, they’ll take everything from us. They’ll take you from me—”

“It’s alright!” He laughs. “They’re not about to storm our apartment out of the blue, don’t be silly.”

Yunho isn't you, he doesn’t know how to be afraid.

Or rather, you weren't Yunho, weren't as tall or as strong, and you had many things to be afraid of. Yunho doesn’t know what happened to you three years ago, as soldiers stormed your home, arrested your entire family, accused of being rebels—they seized every piece of property you had, every asset, froze every bank account. Yunho wasn’t there, except for your barefoot walk to his apartment, where you collapsed in tears, and he promised you that the worst was over now.

You decided to relent; he’s right, soldiers weren’t about to storm your apartment any time soon. Plus, things have… gotten better, ever since they got more control over the rebels in the city. War is freedom.

You sighed. “So… what’s the good news?”

“There’s been reports.” Yunho paged through the contraband pages hurriedly, looking for the one page that started on the whole exposè. “A couple of the general’s friends, and some family members—brutally murdered. In their own homes. They say their organs were missing. I thought the newspaper might tell us more.”

You frowned. “That’s a horrible thing to be so happy about…”

“They deserve it, though.”

It’s soon sunset, and the powerful stomps of soldiers marching filled the streets, as people rushed to close their windows, shrouding themselves from the patrol. You and Yunho included, draw the blinds in your flat and decided to have dinner.

You made the dinner, although Yunho can cook better than you—you guessed that you had to do something, just to feel like there’s still life left for you.

“I actually might play at a—” Yunho stopped midway through the conversation at the table.

You raised an eyebrow. “Play where?”

“Somewhere… grand.”

“Like a hotel ball? Wedding? Big wedding? Am I close?”

Your naive little guesses almost lightened the big man up, only the light in his eyes turned red and anxious the minute his work phone started to ring, very urgently so, almost vibrating itself off the table.

Yunho paled, as he grabbed the phone off the dinner table. “What—” you start, but he runs out of the apartment to take it, a pair of long legs taking him outside faster than you could finish the sentence.

He doesn’t talk about it for a while. You know he’s trying to gain more exposure as a pianist, he’s amazing at playing—and he even composes. The way his fingers work across the ivory keys and the black-pebble flats and sharps—you swear you’ve never met a more proficient player, never mind that he never finished music college—you didn’t either. Yunho’s income came mostly out of teaching kids how to play and getting random gigs sporadically, at acoustic nights at restaurants and whatnot.

“I’m booked for something next Saturday,” he told you in bed a week after that day. He was spooning you, head nuzzled inside the crook of your neck. The baby hairs on your nape wavering under his words.

“That’s great…”

“It’s… a strange job. I’m going to be playing at a party… you know who Seo-chee is, right?”

“The dictator’s daughter?”

“She’s throwing a ball.”

“A ball.” Yunho started to explain the concept of balls to you, as if you hadn’t watched Cinderella in your lifetime. The audacity that high-society was having a ball—when half the nation’s population was starving to death—was just pompous, if anyone heard it they’d be livid with curses. As if the dictatorship wasn’t cursed enough already—and your boyfriend was going to aid them at the party, with his music. You can’t even imagine it happening.

“You actually took the job?” you prodded.

“I… yeah. As soon as they called—they’re paying thousands. For four hours.” You went quiet. “Baby… you know we need the money.”

You turn yourself around on the bed to look at Yunho, who is just trying to appease you. He knows he shouldn’t have, what repercussions it had—he was just trying to feed the both of you.

So you guessed you couldn’t stay mad. But for a long time, you did.

“Yunho, I can’t go in there, they’ll arrest me.”

“Calm down, you’re not a rebel, and we’re pretending we’re military supporters today.” His tone was quiet, calming, which he always used whenever you started having these panics. “You look beautiful.” You were wearing some ancient ball-attendee dress you’d fished out of the depths of your closet.

The mansion wasn’t just a mansion, it was a palace. There was a long walk towards the steps into the main mansion, the pathway surrounded by a forest of trees. A soldier took you on a cart, sparing you the long walk, once Yunho mentioned he was the entertainment.

The high society was ignorant to the citizens starving in the streets, the appetizers of lobster tails and caviar served on plates as they dug in, every little debutante and their dates in their tailored suits. You didn’t take any—it didn’t seen fair to eat when your own neighbors were starving.

To you, the ball was a bore, and Yunho only played classics, and he’s always amazing but there’s just… something that wouldn’t let you enjoy it, an uncomfortableness. You wandered out into the lobby, where glass separated the columns outside from the inside, through which you could view the garden perfectly.

You notice something outside of the glass, walking, as if wandering the terrain, like a hunter stalking its prey. You don’t even understand what someone would be doing outside, not enjoying the music or appetizers, but the thing… fades further into view.

It’s a man. He had platinum white hair that waved in the wind, although not lightly, as if each strand of hair had resistance to it, and he was wearing these strange… robes, that not only seemed inappropriate for the ball, seemed out of date. Like way out of date. Like two millennia out of date.

Once he notices that you had seen him, he erects his head slowly, watching you—a lop-sided stare. Eyes seeming to move every time you did.

And then, he grins. His teeth are inhuman. Sharp, dangerous, a thousand teeth like a leviathan. You scream, but to not make a scene, you cover your mouth with your own hands.

And then the man seemed to fade away from view as quickly as he had appeared.

You rationalize what you had seen, it must have been just a man. To not seem all that crazy, you wander the mansion trying to ask someone if they saw him too. You decided to ask the men eating at a table outside the ballroom.

“Um…” you tap someone on the back, the train of your dress dragging behind you. Unfortunately once the man turns around, so does the rest of the circle at the table, and you realize this is a soldiers’ circle—they were all armed, perhaps in a way that you could say lightly, with handguns strapped to their belts.

It makes you lose your courage, the fact that they could simply… shoot you right then and there.

“What is it?” the soldier whose shoulder you tapped asks.

“Um… I just… I wanted to ask, does anyone know that man, outside?” They all looked confused. “The man,” you clarify, “with the white hair, and he’s got this… cloak on, and he’s wearing robes under it.”

The soldiers look among themselves. “I’ll check it out,” the roughest-looking one of them says. “If someone’s breached the grounds it could be dangerous—you better not be lying about this, though, kid.” He glares at you, but you’re more distracted by how he so readily unholstered his gun, as he steps outside the giant glass gates.

You’re now left in the midst of the other soldiers, who are unrestful, but they didn’t seem to be taking your claims very seriously. They started to talk among them, until other partygoers approached, wanting to know what was going on.

“This lady,” says a younger soldier, “says she saw a man outside—white hair, and a cloak. Has anyone seen…?”

The people who approached—mostly young debutante-aged maidens—shake their heads. “A man?!”

“He didn’t…” you begin, and regretted having formed that sentence, or that thought, entirely. “He didn’t look human. I mean, he had human features, but something… it felt like he had some kind of power, that wasn’t human.”

The entire congregation gathered in front of you bursts out laughing. “Miss Y/N… you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Why did the pianist’s lover get invited… ugh. Commoners are weird.”

“Probably crawled out of her rebel hideout to come here…”

Sensing you weren’t welcome, you step back–you look over your shoulder, and the soldier had returned, gun finally reholstered. “There’s nothing,” he says. “No one.”

“What’s wrong?”

You gasp. That’s the dictator’s daughter. You’ve seen her in pictures in stories covering their family, right now you were just surprised she was actually talking to you—and in front of her, she had wheeled her grandmother—the dictator’s mother—a frail old lady, past 90, ancient and barely conscious but still dressed up for the party, heavy scarlet stones weighing heavily from her neck.

“This… lady, says that she saw a man outside,” answered the young soldier. “There’s nothing there, though, so—”

Everyone turns in alarm as the old grandmother’s head tilts. Her gaze lands straight at you, and it’s not indifferent like seconds before, there was fear— “You see him too,” she speaks, although her voice was weak; it just adds to all the terror of it. “The demon. He stalks us… The harbinger.”

You step backwards as the old woman starts to shake, opening your mouth to say no, I was seeing things—but she continues: “I see him too. A head of white hair… His eyes—his eyes—!”

The people around you started to murmur, while the daughter attempted to calm her down. “No one said anything about white hair.”

You turn on your heels before anyone could say anything else, basically sprinting to the ballroom. As soon as you near the gold-encrusted gates, the sounds of Yunho’s piano calms you down, and your heart starts beating normally again.

You don’t approach him, simply watching from the door. His broad shoulders erected firm in posture, the one thing he teaches foremost to his students—a small smile started forming on your lips.

It’ll be okay. You can put this night and the ugliness and the soldiers and the guns behind you once you go to bed tonight. You hate this mansion, as grand as it is. The entire place reeked of evil, of bloodshed. So many murderers under one roof.

Yunho raises his eyes to look at the crowd, and his eyes land on you, immediately lighting up. His face was mostly covered by the lid of the grand piano, but you see the crinkle in his eyes. You waved at him, but immediately walk backwards out of the ballroom, not wanting to distract him.

The party would go on for a few more hours, and although you’re afraid of the man—the thing—you saw, you’re more afraid of the soldiers and military supporters in the building, so you decided to wander the acres of garden area that the mansion has.

There’s swarms of mosquitos, gnats, fireflies, all over the garden. You keep walking to keep them from landing on you, but those bugs were persistent… suddenly, you see something in the garden. Something glowing.

In folklore, there was a story about a princess, so beautiful with such fair complexion that she could light up an entire palace without candles. You didn’t understand what you were seeing until then—it was just skin. Skin that reflected so much moonlight.

Although you guessed it wasn’t skin, it was a guise of skin. A higher being donning makeshift-humanity.

The monster turned around, and it was only a man, although that’s just what he wanted you to think.

You couldn’t speak, so he started.

“It makes you feel bad for your prayers, doesn’t it? Actually being close to a soldier? They murder children in cold blood, but here at the party they’re offering to top up your champagne glass. It confuses you.”

He’s… human. You push aside your initial foreboding to interact with him well, maybe he’s just an addition to the guest list people forgot. And yet… something in you wasn’t settled. You knew he couldn't be normal.

“It doesn’t make me feel bad,” he continued. “I like it when you pray, Y/N. ‘Dear God, please destroy their armies’... Not an ethical wish, but something I’m used to, back when tyrants ruled the land.”

You gasp. Was he some sort of… religious fanatic? Was he— “My name…” In realization that you never once told him anything about you, you recoil, thinking of the best way to escape him. You couldn’t go around the fountain, because he’d catch you immediately. And you didn’t have the courage to run deeper into the trees.

“It shouldn’t shock you that I know you,” the man says. “I hear every single one of your prayers. Every night. And your prayers are your deepest desires, are they not? You wish for their deaths, every single day…”

There’s just something so deeply unsettling about his eyes, and the more you look at him you get this uncanny feeling. Like he’s something playing at being human.

“You’re upset I know your name,” he says. “I’ll tell you mine so you can call me by it, then—I’m Seonghwa.”

You try to calm yourself. See, Y/N? He’s just human. He has a name. A human name. There are no such things as demons—

“You think I’m a demon?”

You frown. Did you say that out loud? How did he—

“I’m far from it,” Seonghwa promises you, with a smile that’s slowly spreading across his face. Literally.

He grins.

His teeth…

You could scream. Those are not human teeth. They’re so perfectly hidden behind his perfect lips, but he’s got fangs. And not even just fanged canines, it’s… every single tooth. White, ivory fangs.

“Be not afraid.”

You could scream.

His voice at times seemed to come from inside you, as if he were a ventriloquist and he had his voice inside of your head. He didn’t even seem to be moving his mouth as he spoke, which proved that he was a trick of the light, a being more complex than you could understand.

Okay, maybe he does know your prayers. He does know what the military had done, everything he say is right. And those fangs… maybe that was the one lie, a trick of your own madness.

“You want to know who I am, what my business here is.” You nodded, you did want to know. “You must have heard about it. The… executions?”

You remembered. The things Yunho was so over the moon about. The high society people that seemed to keep dying. “You’re responsible?”

When he nods, you look away just so the fangs don’t nerve you any longer.

“I was…” he hums, looking up at the darkened sky. Now the entire conversation was merely moon-lit. “I was… scoping out my next victim. You’ve compromised me though—I don’t want you or your boyfriend caught in a crossfire, if I did something and they started suspecting you two—I guess I’ll just have to wait. I can be patient.”

You believed him. In his eyes, there was nothing but a calm patience, as if he could wait eternity to deal with his victims, almost like a sniper soldier.

“Miss Y/N!” It’s that young soldier from before, you’re glad it’s him, because between him and this demon and the other soldier, he’s the least intimidating. “What are you doing here alone?”

You gawked. Did he just… did he see through Seonghwa? Could he not see him, at all?

You stare at Seonghwa, silently begging him for an explanation, but he’s closed his lips entirely, hiding those monstrous fangs.

The soldier walks through Seonghwa, grabbing you harshly by the arm. “You shouldn’t be out here. I know it’s tempting at a boring party, but we have security to worry about.”

You looked over your shoulder as the soldier dragged you away, and Seonghwa’s still standing at the fountain, still smiling, eyes still bright and unhuman. “I’m sorry,” you apologize to the soldier, “I thought a quick walk was okay—umm, hey, young man…” You stop in your tracks, as does the soldier. You turn him towards the fountain, where Seonghwa’s still standing. “Do you… see that?”

He frowns. “Excuse me?”

“The man,” you clarify, “right there. Standing by the fountain. Do you see him?”

“Miss… please don’t scare me. You know military folk are superstitious.”

“You really don’t see—”

“Please! Don’t! You’re freaking me out.” The soldier turns to youth speech from his informal politeness. “Please, come back to the party—before your boyfriend gets snatched.”

“She’s been talking to him since before I came to get you,” says the young soldier, as he walked you back into the ballroom. “He had to put a rest to playing Clair de Lune to converse with her… oh, well, I suppose she is the most powerful woman in the nation…”

The dictator’s daughter is bent over the grand piano talking to Yunho. She’s giving him awe-inspiring heart-eyed stares, and you’re not even jealous, you’re afraid.

What if she sees you as an enemy, and somehow gets rid of you? The way her father gets rid of rebels—

But Yunho sees you from across the room, and smiles. That smile was going to get you killed.

The dictator’s daughter looks at his smile, almost mesmerized in it, believing it was for her. And then she looks behind her, to see you–the real receiver of that smile. And her gaze burned.

The nation rejoices as more of the dictator’s friends’ deaths hit the news, one by one falling like dominos. The details are always the same: attacked, ambushed, in their own homes, sometimes even in their own bedrooms. Brutally torn through with organs missing, not one trace of the attacker left behind. Maybe because he had no DNA to leave behind. You knew even the dictator, in his bomb shelter locked away from any danger, had to be afraid.

They were afraid of Seonghwa.

You don’t know if he’s real—correction, you can’t be sure if he’s real. But some part of you knew it was, that you didn’t make up this beautiful, pale angelic face—it’s beyond imagination, he has to be real.

But you just grow more afraid, knowing what you know. Knowing what was responsible. You’d discussed it with a religious older neighbor, and she’d just said—”it’s an angel. An angel is delivering comeuppance.” But you’d think Seonghwa was purely… a demon.

One night, you’re coming back from the corner store, where you’d rushed to do last-minute grocery shopping after having forgotten through your preoccupation, you dragged a heavy plastic bag of groceries back home.

Suddenly, in the alleyway right next to your flat, someone pushes you, from the dark, shoving you into the alley between two flats. You gasp, but couldn’t scream—perhaps for your own good.

“Look, we don’t—we don’t want to do this.” The masked attackers let their leader speak. “Just give us the groceries, and your money—please, some of our kids at home are starving—”

You’re shocked and didn’t know what to do, so you gape up at them until they take the bag into their own hands, only to stop in their tracks when a shadow approaches.

You don’t know what kind of thing scared them, but they dispersed quickly, screaming.

It’s a luna eclipse night. His skin still glowed, but not with the moonlight anymore.

“It’s not very nice to steal, although they were pushed to this situation—still, I’d rather you keep what you paid for.” Seonghwa’s voice rang through your senses like a breeze. So soft, so grand.

You’re more scared of what he was than you’d ever be afraid of those bandits. You scrunched your eyes shut and started to pray: “Lord have mercy. Deliver us from evil, deliverusfromevildeliverusfrom—”

“I’m not evil. If anything, those prayers would call me closer—an angel.”

Your eyes shoot open. “You’re not…”

“I am.”

You look at him, and you could believe it. He’s that handsome, almost to the point where the only reason was that he was so wonderfully made. You step further back into the alley until your back hits the wall.

“Why are you here?”

“I see most things that are happening in this country—it is my duty, after all.” Seonghwa hesitated if he should add his next words. “But I look after you especially. I am familiar with your life, your suffering.”

“That doesn’t make me feel good,” you protest. “You’ve been watching me?!”

“Everyone is watched—from birth. Let me assure you you are far from a sinner—you’re the kind of innocent soul I’d whisk away from this hell if I could.”

“Why don’t you?”

“I’m a harbinger, not a savior, or even a protector.”

Meaning all he does is kill. You shudder.

“You’re still shaking, and I can feel the rapidity of your heart from here.” He steps closer towards you, and you almost wish he’d step even closer, just because you feel safer under his light than in the dark.

“Let me calm you down,” Seonghwa says softly. Then, his hand wraps around the back of your head, and he presses a kiss to your warm lips, his smelling and tasting like fresh fruit, refreshing, like he’d come from somewhere green and pleasant, away from this barren landscape.

When you open your eyes, he’s gone, and your heart rate has never been calmer. And the air smelled sweet.

“You’ve been… distant,” Yunho starts with a sigh, like he didn’t want to be talking about this… “ever since I played at that military party—are you mad at me that I took the job?”

You didn’t reply, not because he was right, but because you didn’t know how to start explaining. If you told him about Seonghwa—he’d call you crazy. He’d think the loneliness and the fear had finally maddened you. “I’m right, aren’t I?” Yunho scoffed. “I know I shouldn’t be some bootlicker artist, but we needed the money, and—you know what happens to people that turn them down.”

“I’m glad you took it,” you say, insincerity apparent in how monotone you sounded. “Who knows what they could have done to us if you hadn’t?”

He sighed. “But you’re mad.”

“You’re mere entertainment to the people who took my family from me—excuse me if I’m disappointed.”

“You said it yourself—who knows what they would have done to us?!”

“Yunho,” you sighed. “I love you, and I’m disappointed. At the same time. And you know, you have a new admirer.”

“The daughter?” Yunho was aghast. “It’s… it’s not…” He couldn’t come up with a lie nor a reassurance. Everything you’d said was true.

You find out later that she had been calling his work phone, over and over again. And he always took it—who knows what she’d do?

Seonghwa visits the apartment, on his own will—he wasn’t some unholy beast that had to be invited in. Every border allowed him inside.

He watched you, poised from the window as you washed dishes—it didn’t matter if he fell, so you don’t utter any complaints.

“Why are you dressed like that?” you ask. “It’s like… haven’t you had a wardrobe change since 800BC?”

“No one can see me,” Seonghwa says, more of an excuse than anything. “It’s comfortable,” he finally answers.

“Stuck in your old ways from millenia… hmm, not a good look, demon.”

“Angel,” he insisted. “You know, if you keep calling me demon, I’m going to think you don’t think I'm too pretty.”

But he knew he was.

Sometimes you’d begin to think that maybe you were losing your mind, cooped up in a barren flat in a barren city with your anxious thoughts to accompany you, and Seonghwa was a manifestation of this madness. But the constant news of murder after murder confirmed that Seonghwa was indeed real, and indeed everything he said he was.

He didn’t call what he did ‘murders’. Murders took human, stealing life from another human. He wasn’t one. What he did was comeuppance, divine instruction, divine punishment. Heaven’s work was what he was doing.

Yunho isn’t tutoring anymore, but he has more money than ever. You know what it is, but didn’t have the heart to point it out—you didn’t want to lose him, and you knew the minute you shed light on it, the entire lie would blow up. You had no one to discuss this dishonesty to, because once they find out who he’s been cheating with on you, you both would be nothing but traitors.

Storm season is around, as the city had been built around rivers. Rising tides and cyclones kill, but the only deliverance the high society faced is Seonghwa’s doing. Military families die, and new soldiers take their positions, although they were all well-aware—they were being haunted. Still they insist it was a serial killer, nothing supernatural—you guessed they had to think that way, to believe heaven was still on their side.

Tonight, the storm hits your part of the city, and the thunder doesn’t stop. As the rainclouds block the sun totally throughout the day, there’s no solace, no light—the electricity cuts off, and Yunho hasn’t come home since the previous night.

You can pretend the blackout is just a precaution for the storm, but you know the houses on the hills—aka the high-society neighborhood—stay lit with the brightest lights. While you hunted in the dark for flashlights and candles.

“Yunho…” you cursed your boyfriend’s name, you had asked him to buy some candles for the apartment, but he never got around to it—although you guess you shouldn’t be so mad, he was always preoccupied, trying to earn money, trying to stay alive for you—

The storm wasn’t going to be that bad. You hoped. A cyclone was happening two shores over, and it carried the winds on to your city. You wished that everything was well at the shore settlements, as you went on looking for candles, and flashlights.

“Sweetheart,” comes the neighboring lady’s frail little voice, “I don’t mean to be a bother—could I have a candle, please? I know these things cost an arm and a leg these days, I just—”

“No, it’s no big deal!” you bellow so she hears you over the thunder. You bring out the little cup with its candle to her, promptly presenting it. “Here—don’t worry about it.”

When she murmurs her thanks and is gone, your sole light source was the flashlight in your hands.

The storm was starting, so you go to close the windows, not wanting dust and rain to get blown through the crevices, and you block the entire outside out, although the lightning flashes shined through the gaps every time they struck.

“My Y/n.”

You scream, a sound so shrill it cuts through, and you drop the flashlight, which shatters, bulb and the glass protection in the front. You’re still screaming, grabbing at nothing now that the flashlight had slipped away from you.

You recognize him by his clothes. Robes in the fashion of millennia ago. You finally calm down, remembering that Seonghwa couldn’t hurt you.

“Shush,” he says with celerity, approaching you and the flashlight on the floor, which still shined a dim, dying light.

You gasp. “Oh no, I broke it!”

Seonghwa wordlessly touched it, glass shards and all, and presents it back to your hands.

And it’s fixed. The broken bulb, the glass, everything.

You stare in curiosity, but he’s been so honest with you the whole time. It’s hard to believe a real living angel is in front of you, but when he shows his powers this way…

It’s still pretty damn hard to believe.

You just stare back at him, with wide eyes. Pointing the fixed light at his chest. Is that… a fleck of blood… on his skin?

“Turn it off, please?” Seonghwa requested. “I don’t like it to be so brightly lit.”

“O–of course.” Your hands stutter as you blindly reach for the switch on the flashlight, to turn it off. As soon as it’s off, you take a good look at Seonghwa, who you’ve only seen in moonlight, in dim alleys, always hidden in the shadows. Now you’re close enough to him that you can see every little thing you’d missed all the other times—how neat his clothes were, not torn at all; his features, too beautiful to be human; his perfect hair, which you still didn’t know why it chose to be platinum.

“I need a text from Yunho first,” you tell Seonghwa. “Before I can rest easy, like you told me to do.”

“He’s going to sit the storm out at her house. He’s completely roofed, and safe. You can embrace each other in the morning.”

You frown.

“Don’t be ashamed that I know he’s unfaithful—I couldn’t help but know.”

He knew every single thing you were feeling, and if it were something that could be shrouded, you’d cover yourself… you feel your mind was naked in front of him, every dirty thought.

You taste iron on his tongue, like bars in jail cells, like rusted knives, like blood. As soon as you remember the taste of blood, you pull away. Remembering he isn’t human.

Remembering what he does, what he has done. His nature.

“I understand if it’s too much for you,” he says. “I understand if you find it hard to be with me this way.”

“You read my mind, you know that’s not true, you know I want you.”

His mouth, fangs and all, sinks into the skin of your neck, although he doesn’t so cruelly bite down, so delicately feeling you with his lips, every inch of vulnerability awakening something in him. “You want me,” he concluded. “You want me, in that way.”

You nod slowly, you knew it was true. “Can you…?”

“I work very closely to human sin, remember?” the angel speaks. His voice is everywhere around you, it’s like it’s coming from your own head. “I may not… know what it’s supposed to feel like, really, but I know how enjoyable it can be, for you.” He reached out, tracing your face, when you frown, concentrating on looking at him, he tenderly caresses the creases between your eyebrows and the pout of your lips, thumb ghosting over every feature. “Every little nerve working in your body… every open mouthed moan… every pain in your core—I know you humans love it.”

And he’s so real. Like a real, warm human body. You almost forget what he really is…

“But will you feel it?” you ask. “It… it won’t be right if you don’t feel the pleasure.”

A smile ghosted his lips. “Good thing I live in the in-between. Not quite angel, not quite demon, not quite human.” He leans in close to you, it’s the closest you’ve ever had him to you, you think— “But I have a cock I can indeed derive pleasure from…”

You just stared up at him, not even remembering to swallow the saliva in your throat.

“You don’t believe me.”

“Don’t read my thoughts,” you beg.

His laugh is musical, and rings in your ears. “Aww, I was just—you’re right, that’s not fair of me. It’s just a habit, I’ll…” he puts his hands to his ears. “I’ll play deaf to all your thoughts, I promise.”

“Whatever I think, you hear it?” There’s such a sad helplessness in your words.

“Not from now on—I am at your command.” He kissed your eyes. “Every command.”

“If I do this, will you fall?” You step closer to him and kiss him, the way you kiss Yunho on fervent, feverish nights, soft lips battling with the power of corruption, although you didn’t know how much you could corrupt…

Seonghwa smiles into the kiss, and smiles even bigger when you pull away. “Fall, like from heaven?” He tuts at you with a tilted chin. “You need to try harder than that—although… it does make me farther than ever from my goal of getting wings, it’s something I can work for again.”

(The day he revealed himself to you again, and proclaimed he was an angel, you’d asked: “if you’re an angel, where are your wings?” and he answered he was working for them, just didn’t have them yet.) You knew he wanted those wings, so why would he step so many steps backwards, just for you…?

“Because you’re worth it,” he answered. Then he holds his tongue. “Oops. I’m meant to not listen in, aren’t I?”

He’s close to you again, didn’t even walk towards you—just phase-shifted to you—”I’m sorry,” he whispers, but his voice echoes in the depths of your mind again, “your thoughts are just so loud. You’re so… apparent—needy, aroused, curious... it’s almost innocent, how plain your desires are.”

You swallow air just to not breathe it out.

Seonghwa kisses you again, this time with an unyielding force, his hands go to the straps of your top and just pull them down, revealing your chest, pure skin so soft and yielding to his touch, but he doesn’t touch, only stares.

“If I coveted what was your boyfriend’s, that would make me a hypocrite, huh?” You don’t know how he’s done it, but he cuts your pants off you with a swipe of his hands, and you’re naked… for him. You reached for his robes, which came off easily with a pull of a string.

His skin is also pale, unbroken, bright, reflecting. It’s so beautiful you can’t help but be aroused, and as the slick gathers around your lips, Seonghwa carries you, only to the couch in your vicinity, big enough to lay down fully.

The fact that you’re letting a monster fuck you on the couch your boyfriend bought wasn’t lost to you. But when Seonghwa touches you again, stone-cold skin that burned you, you realize there was so much passion, that you wanted it over your own current life. Seonghwa could fix you.

You feel his tongue against your clit, so easily submitting to you, giving you pleasure, as if he weren’t a creature more than anything you ever were.

Seonghwa was aggressive, as if starved—he'd never wanted to taste anything human before, and this gave him a new kind of hunger, impossible to comprehend even in his higher brain.

His hands come up to your torso as he buries his face in your needy cunt, and you grab the hands, intertwining it in yours. He seemed to appreciate the closeness, clasping it tighter.

“Seong—Hwa—so—good!” You hadn't been brought so high, for your moans to be so pornographic, in a long time. Your toes curl up, you throw your head back.

To admit it, you and Yunho had the kind of sex where it couldn’t help either of you relax, bodies growing tenser and tenser as you considered your place in the dictator regime, your futures, how far you’d go to protect each other, when the last time you could be together was. Too many worries, too vulnerable like prey animals in the open field, to ever enjoy the sex.

With Seonghwa it was different. He opened you up. His kiss relaxes every nerve in you, lets you think clearly, lets you focus on the pleasure. You loved Yunho, but he was just a man.

Seonghwa’s long fingers roam your body, every part of it, while yours stay embedded in the skin of his shoulders and chest, just holding onto him, until he’s realer and realer with every passing second.

“Your—” you start, gesturing at his cock—so pretty, a pale, brownish beige color, pretty in every aspect. He nods. “You can feel me with it?”

You don’t see his expression anymore, as he buries his head between your head and shoulder, into the couch, as he enters you—all you hear from him is a guttural groan.

The couch drags against the flooring as he thrusts into you, standing up on the side of the couch. You praise him, telling him how good he's doing for his first time since merely watching, and his thrusts turn harder.

“you—every part of you—is amazing,” he says, maybe it was his turn to praise you.

He then wordlessly admires how you cum to your high, eyes too hazed over to even recognize him, or Yunho if he had returned.

Seonghwa’s porcelain grin flashes, lit up by the lightning around the flat, he’s looking mischievous—you reach out for him, and he’s real with his body, so close to you. “Poor baby,” he says. “You’ve never felt pleasure like this before.”

His thumb started to circle around your clit, almost too tender as if you were so precious to him, and then faster, to the point where you move away from him, just because you didn’t know how to handle that level of arousal.

Laughing, Seonghwa keeps rubbing your clit, but holds you down by the hips with his other hand. Your only option now is to moan, so loudly, you think you could start screaming. You realize you’d go unheard, through the storm, anyway, but didn’t want to risk it.

You look up at him with fluttering eyelashes, almost pleadingly. You’re exhausted already, just from everything you’ve done—Yunho, even in all his stature, had never tired you out this way before.

When you’re tightening around nothing—he wasn’t even generous enough to put his finger in so you could feel something—and spasming around his palm, Seonghwa smiles, head disappearing between your legs to lick the rest of the slick off, although he wiped his dirty hands on your bare stomach. Then he faces you again.

“I think—” Seonghwa breathed out a laugh, “I think this is depravity, you feel it too, don’t you? My corruption—”

He’s not even half exhausted, when you’re so fucked out you don’t think you can take anything anymore.

“You—bring—” You gasped, as he, with gritted teeth and tense nerves, enters you again, determined to get you both onto the same kind of high. “—me—so far… from heaven.”

You’re losing all senses, and when you arch your back, Seonghwa’s hands are there to support you, eyes rolled back and not making sense of the world anymore. Through the window, lightning flashes every two seconds, the outside world too stormy even for the soldiers to patrol.

Seonghwa disappears after he’d tended to your sore body, wiping the sweat of your brow and then kissing the very same place. And then he swore that he would come back. And then, he looks back at you—

“Yunho,” he says, “I’m glad he can protect you, but he can’t go that far. Right now, he’s not being honest—and you know it, too.”

Yunho doesn’t come back in the morning, and you wish on Seonghwa again. Even when he didn’t appear, you knew he was looking out for you—no matter how much he swore he wasn’t a protector, for you he was.

~~~~~~~~

THE END IDK IF I CAN WRITE A PART TWO

THE RAW IDEA IS THAT, THE DICTATOR’S DAUGHTER GETS JEALOUS AND ARRESTS YOU FOR NO REASON. SEONGHWA RESCUES YOU FROM THERE, FINALLY GETTING HIS WINGS, AND HE WHISKS YOU AWAY! Unfortunately that is too much action and yours truly

#seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader smut #ateez fanfic #seonghwa fic #seonghwa fanfic #ateez

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androgynousblackbox · 3 months

Text

Welcome to Hazbin Vale. 6 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N2qk6VZokx0 Song on the background] "Greetings, everyone, good morning to all of you. Apologies for the late broadcast, there was a sudden issue I had to take care of that couldn't wait. Now thankfully it's all sorted out now so there is no need to talk more about it.

In fact, the less we talk about it all the better. If we can just pretend that never happened at all that would be just peachy. I am a profesional after all. A profesional who would never mix up personal affairs into his job.

Absolutely not. You all can trust on that.

But why dwell on nonsense when we can start the day at last? I hope our selection of music while you were waiting on your dear radio host was at the very least tolerable for all of our listeners. I didn't choose any of it so I can only hope. If they are any like the music that is on the background right now, then probably you all didn't had such a bad time.

Good. I am glad for that.

And the issue that is totally sorted out and that I totally didn't mix with my job can find her zippy cup on the left. Right there where I put it. Follow the direction of my hand, dear. That is right. Excelent.

Mmm. Let's start with the first order of business. I am sure that a good number of you already know, but for those who don't, today we are welcoming in our beautiful community a new resident.

Remember how we talked about the death of the old man Jenking? That poor man whose mental capabilities were already on their way out and made him say all kinds of crazy ideas at the pub? Well, apparently he wasn't just a noise maker.

He was also a grandpa. Which does explains the boxes full of baby stuff in the attic now that I think about it. Not that I ever saw them, by the way.

Anyway, because of that he had his own grandson that now has decided to come reside on the old house. I even had the pleasure of running into him during my morning stroll while he was bringing up some stuff inside.

I would have stayed there and talk some more to rely you more information, but as we established before, I had other things to take care of. I did managed to tell him to tune in with the rest of us, so hopefully he is listening right now.

Are you listening? Are you really listening?

Don't open that folder.

My friends, please give your warmest welcome to our new neighbor, Anthony.

I am sure he will be a valuable member of this community and won't cause any sort of problem for anyone. Hopefully he will remember our safety guide to keep himself safe.

Don't feed the raccoons, unless you have to, then denying them food will only make things worst. Remember to close your garbage can because nobody has to care about your business and, above all else, have fun! We love fun around these parts!

I hope you find that our beautiful town Hazbin Vale just about as beautiful and wonderful as we all do. There is a good reason why is that here where you can find your best friends…

What is that?

Oh, a phone is ringing.

Our own phone in fact!

I had no idea that we had a phone here or it was still working! Nobody has ever used it before. What a delightful surprise. Well, I guess since this listener took the time to give us a call, we should respond accordingly.

What button was it…

Oh, right, that one.

Hello and good morning, dear listener. You are on the air right now. What can your favorite radio host do for you on this lovely day?"

"Hi, sweetie. How are you and Charlie doing over there? I wanted to call you over, but you don't have your own cellphone so this was the best second option. Hope that is okay.

That is a lot of static right now. Hello, can you hear me?"

"We are both fine. I hear you perfectly well. Everything is fine and oh… yes, that is your dad. Do you want to…? Sure, why not. Just give me a second.

Alright, here we go. Dear listeners, for the first time in a long time we have a guest coming in the air with us today. Everyone be nice and pay attention to our very own small resident Charlie Morningstar. Say hi, Charlie."

"Hi, daddy!"

"Hi, duckling. How is my little princess doing?"

"I am good! I made a drawing of you and Alie like duckies!"

"You did? Aww, I bet it's the cutest thing I have ever seen. Make sure to show it to me when I go to pick you up. I am glad you are having a good time, baby.

Alastor, I just wanted to thank you so much for taking care of her so suddenly. It's my fault, I forgot that I had this reunion with the investors today and I didn't call the babysitter the night before so I really didn't have a lot of options. You really saved my life there."

"It's fine, unexpected things happen all the time. We have a lot of space here and Charlie is a good kid so she won't cause any trouble. Right, dear?"

"Nope! Alie wanted me to tell you that he gave me cookies and limonade! I liked the ones with strawberry yam inside."

"Off air, dear. You were supposed to say that off air."

"That is wonderful, duckling. I will try to wrap this up as fast as I can. What do you both want for lunch today? Alastor, you are coming of course."

"If you insist."

"Can I have burgers, daddy?"

"My baby girl can have anything she wants. Alastor, burgers are okay with you too?"

"Sure, sounds good to me."

"Then burgers for everyone it is. With some fries on the side?"

"Yes, fries!"

"Ha ha, I knew it. Alright, I will get them as soon I can. Right now I see that the bunch of old geezer coming back to the office so I should be going too.

I-I mean, the respectable members of the board! Who I totally respect and don't look a day older than 20!"

"Nice save, darling."

"Oh shush you. I will see you both later. Love you lots, Charlie, be nice with Alastor! Alastor… you should really do something about that static. I am sure that is not coming from my side. Yes, I am coming! Talk to you soon! Bye!"

"Bye, daddy!

The noise is gone now, Alie."

"Well, would you look at that. The issue was solved by itself and that means we don't have to talk about it ever again. How convenient.

You are rubbing your eyes a lot, dear. Do you have some kind of infection or are you sleepy?

That was a big yawn you let out just now."

"MMmmno sleepy."

"Well, you can be not sleepy on the couch over there if you want. Grab my coat if you get cold. I won't take too long here. I just need to take care of a couple of things and then we can get you home."

"Okay…"

"Good girl. Down you go.

That was our guest star of today, dear listeners, our very own Charlie Morningstar. Isn't she a doll?

But anyway, I know we are all eager to get back on track so…

Another call?

Well, this day is just full of surprises, isn't it? Wonder who that could be. Greetings, dear listener, you are in the air right now."

"Hey. So. What was that about being a professional that doesn't mix personal affairs with his job?"

"Oops! Clumsy me!

I accidentally pressed the button to end that call. But don't worry, officer Husker. I am sure that while you were wasting your time making that call only a handful of criminals got away. I am so glad to know that our tax money is being put to such good use.

You are still on time to catch them though, if you start moving fast. It could be a good exercise after eating all those donuts. If we are ever so lucky you might be able to find a manhole to fall into from the streets and get lost in for all of eternity. Wouldn't that be so grand?

If I do ever need advice on how to be a waste of air, I will be sure to call you.

Don't push your luck, old pal.

Ah.

Are we done with the unexpected interruptions now? Are people going to stop requiring my attention? Mmm, mister telephone? Some people can be so rude and then they just advantage of your good manners, dear lsiteners. You give them a hand and they take a shoulder. Must the suffering of yours truly never end?

I think we are good now to finally return to our schedule.

As I was trying to say before a much less wanted interruption, the cemetery as of today is also off limits for everyone.

Try to avoid it as much as possible and, like always, don't pay any mind to any sounds, no matter how loud or frequent comes from there. There is nothing to worry about at all. If you find yourself on the same street, change your ways. You will thank me later.

Your dead will be taken care of anyway. Just leave them where they are and walk away. As fast as you can.

The workers are working to get rid of some pests just to feed a few mouths that have been hungry for far too long.

The moon is smiling upside down for all of us. Let's be in our best behavior tonight and not turn it into a frown. The night doesn't want to claim anyone else, it won't need to, so let's try to come back to home early and have heavy, uninterrupted dreams.

Goodness me, is that really all the time we have left? Where did all those minutes go? I was planning to add a little something there, a bit of a friendly words for our new resident, but I guess it will have to be for tomorrow. For now, I can tell you this, Anthony.

Don't let your curiosity get the better of you. No matter how tempting. No matter how much you want to.

It could be the last thing that you do.

Now, for the weather…"

#appleradio #radioapple #duckiedeer #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel au #lucifer x alastor #alastor x lucifer #my fanfic

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skullamity · 6 months

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Got a fountain bowl to convince Ham, now the most expensive cat in the house, to drink more. Ham is afraid of it, Dusty views it with contempt. The only cat who is super into it is Parsnip, and he will only drink from it like this????? Congrats little buddy, that's the worst anyone has ever done it! Bonus Ham photobomb at the end.

For anyone wondering about Ham, he's fine, but also I now want to take a minute to shout out Pretty Litter. I have always been apprehensive about owning male cats, because I know they are infinitely more prone to developing crystals in their urine, and that it can happen at any age. I have known many people over my lifetime who have had beloved (and still pretty young!) cats just drop dead, because crystal blockage can kill them very rapidly if you don't catch it until it is a Capital P Problem, and we all know how good cats are at hiding their pain.

Up until Ham, we have only ever had female cats, and one of the reasons why I wanted to switch to Pretty Litter (aside from the fact that it mummifies everything, kills the smell, is super light weight and can go longer before being changed out) is that it changes colour to alert you to changes in your cat's health that you might not otherwise know are happening.

So imagine my surprise when I was scooping out the litterbox on Sunday when Ham, ever the bastard, hopped into a freshly cleaned box while I was cleaning out the next one, was in there for a very short amount of time and when he left, the litter where he has peed was bright red, which indicates the presence of blood. We immediately switched him to wet food only and the vet was able to fit him in on Tuesday morning.

They didn't end up having to sedate him to get a sample (they took him to go do that and he helped things along by taking a giant piss e v e r y w h e r e on the walk to the back), and very quickly discerned that there were crystals present in his urine. The vet told us outright that vigilance, the colour changing cat litter and our quick action to get him into the vet definitely saved his life, and any apprehension I had about forking out the money for a subscription for this slightly more expensive cat litter immediately went out the window. It did exactly what it was supposed to do, and my one year old marshmallow of a cat is already no longer turning the cat litter red now that he's on specialty food (specialty wet only for the next month as the partial blockage fully breaks down, and then specialty dry with any brand wet food for the rest of his life).

I do find it kind of funny that my expectation that Parsnip, our deaf, snorty, extremely inbred hoarder situation cat, would end up being the most medically expensive animal in this house was apparently dead wrong, but I'm also incredibly relieved that we caught this so early.

#skullamity pets #parsnip cat #ham cat #pretty litter #this isn't a paid promo I am just relieved that it worked and my shitty son is going to be okay

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hurricane-heatt · 6 months

Text

post break up sebmark drabble blehhhh have at it (v brief mentions of animal death + general violence)

So it was important for me to just enjoy home

enjoy the things that are waiting there.

some stuff that, you know, you had no time during the season to fix.

Enjoyed, uh, being in my own bed,

I think it's always

you always want what you don't,

what you don't have.

2013

“Don’t you ever just give it a rest?”

Sebastian doesn’t look at him, carries on staring at the engineers below them. The car looks good from far away. These are the first words Mark has said to him since December 31st, 11:59pm.

“You wouldn’t like me if I did.”

“Don’t know where you got the impression that I like you, mate.”

He just laughs bitterly, turning from the balcony to face Mark. Everyone is far enough for this to happen. There’s offices with thin enough glass that could overhear but they’re empty, just shells. The noise echoes off desks and papers and contracts.

“Think they call that leading someone on, mate.”

Mark holds the eye roll for now.

“Just get a grip, yeah? I’ll play nice if you do, that’s how this works.”

“It’s never been how this works.”

This is the factory and this is the race and this is the championship and this is them, just shadows on blue and red and yellow walls. It’s always been this way. These are not fresh wounds. The blood is drying beneath their feet and back at the house and in those damned hotel rooms.

Maybe Sebastian just hates what he left behind. What he can’t have.

“Fuck off, Seb.”

Thank god he’s home. Mark scrapes 6th after the starting chaos and he thinks about his back covered in scarlet overalls the entire time he claws his way up to points.

He gets out of the car at the end, sees the cars as skeletons, and forgets the bleeding red thoughts entirely.

“Won't you come?”

Mark sits in his childhood bedroom and listens to Sebastian on the phone.

“Thought you hated it.”

He doesn’t say me, he won’t say me. Nails in the coffin, or something like that.

“I couldn’t. You know that.”

happy new year, love

“Fucking hell, Sebastian.”

“Please. You know how this is going to end and I just want- I just want.”

He doesn’t have a fucking clue how it’s going to end, Mark thinks, as he looks at the same piece of wallpaper that’s been tearing for 30 years. He’s looking at the wall while the room speaks to him and it has the voice of the man he loved and it says his name.

“Mark.”

The worst part is he says his name like he’s always said it. That truly is the worst part of it all, not New Year’s, not Turkey or Silverstone or all their other meaningless moments that the journalists attribute to them. Oh, will they ever care beyond that? Will Mark? Will Sebastian?

“Please.”

Monaco. They’ve got matching cars on opposite sides of the world and they’ve got matching scars on old liveries from each other’s sharp edges. They’ve got enough bruises in the same places underneath their skin that won’t ever heal and they’ll sting when they bump into each other in 5, 10 years.

“I can’t, Sebastian.”

There’s a long crackle of silence, the static flooding the room.

“Are you sorry about it?”

And if he willed himself, Mark could go off on a spiel of what do I need to be sorry for? He could start with all the useless conversations that never ended nicely but at least they did end. He’s run out of bandages and he’s no longer dressing his wounds, neither of them are. It’s just that Sebastian is more willing to poke at one until it’s infected all over again.

Maybe Sebastian still wants to hurt. Mark won’t grant him that, whether it be in the form of an argument or his appearance at his hotel room door. That’s his punishment.

“Goodnight, Seb.”

happy new year.

“Can I call you? Please, Mark, can I call you?”

Everything is in motion, still. It’s not the adrenaline, long dead in his bones, but it’s something different, something much worse. He feels nauseous when Sebastian looks at him the way he does. Mark can’t hear himself talk but he knows he’s let go.

Fingers release the cliff-edge and he’s finally in free fall.

The second step feels even lower when the guy on the top looks down at you with big blue eyes that are conflicted and flitting from the sky to your cap that has 2 on it so boldly no one could mistake it. He could read Seb’s mind, if he really wanted to. They’ve always been too good at doing that to one another.

He thinks about bulls and prancing horses and roadkill as someone else’s words wash over him and black oil spills from his mouth.

You’ve got to understand my point of view, here.

I don’t know how the fuck you think you’ve got a point of view.

Stop shouting

Seb, I’m not- Right. Go on then.

I’m telling you that I think I’ll always respect you. As a driver. You know that.

But you’ve entirely- I can’t believe you, I can’t respect you as a person, not after that.

Then our relationship is in trouble. That’s it.

Yeah, that’s it.

Mark bows out but not before he feels the wind in his hair. It feels a bit like freedom but it feels a lot more like relief.

He feels the weight of Sebastian’s words on him once more, the feeling of his palm in his in a firm handshake, and he finally retires as a Formula One racing driver. Sebastian takes his last world championship and they both cry at 11pm that night but they won’t ever know the other did too.

The phone line remains uncalled and the hotel room doors stay shut.

“Were you happy to see me go?”

There’s red wine and too much of it. Sebastian looks older already but it’s only been two years. He looks better for a Ferrari racesuit. Mark looks better for doing whatever he wants. They’re still working out how all of this goes but they’re doing it gently.

Mark hopes they are, anyway. It’s not been fucking easy, but at least it’s been gentle.

“Happy isn’t quite right.”

Mark doesn’t push, something else he’s learning, and just looks out onto the garden and sips from his glass. The night air sings with creatures and is lit by the stars that are so clear here.

“I just watched you go. I felt nothing.”

“And was that good or bad?”

Sebastian smiles, knowing Mark always wants a clear answer.

“Well, it’s got me here. Got you here too. So I think it’s good.”

Mark never thought it any good to feel nothing, but he looks at Sebastian’s face now and doesn’t see numbness.

It’s the wine and it’s their shadows together.

Maybe one day, it’ll be them again.

2015

#sebmark #i just think about that video of them all the time #scribbles

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barbiewritesstuff · 2 years

Text

Fantasies : Part 3

-- Part 3 is here (finally!!) Thank you to @lgg5989 for proof reading, you're the best bestie 💜💜

(Picture has nothing to do with the fic, he's so done and I love him)

Tw. NSFW, p in v sex, unprotected sex, etc

Previous part

Taglist: @luckyladycreator2 @feedthemadness-sweetie @ravensmadreads @whywhathowseriously

He thinks about what you sound like for the next week and a half, not really sure what to do with himself. His thoughts are going haywire, not giving him a minute of respite, constantly presenting images of you fingering yourself in a shower stall, or rubbing your clit, or even getting off on the jet of water alone. He’s started making mistakes, Warlock’s even asked if he was okay. And worst of all, he ran out of lube three days ago. He feels a little shameful that half a bottle took so little time to disappear, but the shame lies more in the fact that even porn can’t seem to do it anymore.

Only you.

Fantasies of him pressing himself deep inside of you, til you’re so full it almost feels overwhelming, and then fucking you til you drench his cock and milk him til he has no cum left to give you are the only thing that even get him off now that he knows you want it too.

But as much as he wants it, Beau’s not stupid. He knows, rationally, that he can never act on his urges -- needs. His needs to feel you, taste you, see you -- despite what his post-orgasm brain told him in the showers. He just wasn’t thinking clearly. There’s rules against fraternisation and as an Admiral, whatever goes for the lower rank navy personnel goes triple for him. If he acted on his needs, and someone saw, or something happened, it would ruin his career. It would ruin your career.

And despite how much he wants this, he just can’t risk ruining this for you.

So when he sees you in the carrier’s gym room in booty shorts and a sports bra, alarm bells are ringing in his head and he tries so hard to remember how bad this could get.

“Everything alright Lieutenant?” he asks and the alarm bells ring louder, telling him to stop right now and turn around. Telling him that sex isn’t worth losing a thirty year career over, or destroying a budding one.

“All good,” you smile, stepping away from the punching bag you were destroying not a minute earlier. It still sways slightly in the air, less to do with the fact that the open seas are turbulent tonight and more to do with your assault.

Your cheeks are flushed and it looks ever so flattering on you, Beau thinks, taking in your form. Your legs are slender, graceful and long. Your torso, usually hidden underneath a beige navy uniform is now on display for him and Beau has to stop himself from staring at the dark line between your full breasts in order to avoid growing hard.

“I usually spar with Lieutenant Trace, but she couldn’t make it,” you say, “So I have to make do with the bag,” you over explain. It’s not an invitation to anything but his groin takes it as one and speaks without asking his brain for permission.

“I could always replace Lieutenant Trace. I may be older, but I’m sure I can make up for your youth in years of experience,” he replies, fairly certain he’s not talking about sparring when his mouth forms the second sentence.

You seem surprised for a second, and then your face breaks out in a large smile that makes hs stomach flip, “You’re on,” you say and Cyclone is vaguely aware of familiarity with which you address him and he might have said something, if only to keep up the appearance he didn’t want to rail you into next week, but you turn around and bend down to pick up your towel and your phone and the words get lost in his throat as he stares.

You move towards the mat at the other end of the room. It’s an assortment of thin multicolour mattresses, fitted into each other like puzzle pieces, placed there more to keep health and safety off their backs than to actually prevent any injuries. Beau drops his stuff off next to yours and follows you to the middle. You stand a few feet apart and in a show of both sportsmanship and self control -- because he wants nothing more than to pull you close and kiss you -- he shakes your hand.

Beau’s impressed, the second he says ‘go’ you jump into action and he really has to fight you off, ducking left and right to avoid swings and kicks, his training kicks in eventually though and soon he has the upper hand. You fight fair for ten more minutes, but he sees you getting frustrated, not thinking you would cheat -- and technically it isn’t cheating -- he bumps his foot against your leg and you yelp. You make such a pitiful sound that he stops short, too focussed on seeing if you’re hurt to see your leg swing behind his and wipe him to the floor.

You move up to him and in a move practised by years of sparring with Lieutenant Trace, you swing one leg over his hip and grab his hand, pinning them above his head. And then, as your brain gets overridden by the months of wet dreams and masturbation sessions, you involuntarily roll your hips against him. You let out a moan as Cyclone groans before both of you freeze, realising what has just happened.

“I’m so sorry, Admiral, I didn’t -- I don’t know what h--”

"Again," he orders his voice immediately dropping two octaves. The alarm bells in his head have stopped ringing now, it's too late. He was toeing a line and with one accidental movement, you have caused him to sprint across it.

You look at him for a moment and Beau's afraid you might not do it, that you're stronger than him and can resist the urge but after a moment, so gently he might have thought it was a dream, you roll your hips again. And then again. And again. And again. Your pupils dilate more with every movement and Beau is overtaken by the sudden urge to kiss you.he sits up, knocking you to the floor and he doesn't waste any time in moving up to you to crash your mouths together.

His lips dance against yours until neither of you can breathe and when you come up for air, the passion of the moment doesn't have the time to dissipate before you take each other's clothes off. Or rip, in Beau's case. He takes one good look at your attire and decides it needs to go, now. Grabbing your sports bra with both hands, he pulls and rips it in half.

For a second, when the arousal induced brain fog has lifted, he feels bad. That is, until he takes in your dilated pupils, hard nipples and the way you just let out a soft little 'oh' and he realises that you liked it. Taking it as a silent invitation to do it all again, he rips your booty shorts off, accidentally snapping your underwear in two at the same moment.

Spurred on by his surprising display of strength, you waste no time pushing off his shirt, and pushing off his gym shorts.

Beau looks down at you, naked in front of him. You look perfect, his dreams and fantasy did not do you justice and the way you're staring at his dick like you're not sure it's going to fit is something he didn't think he'd ever get to see, and now he does, he never wants to not see it again.

With one strong hand, he pushes you back on the mat. He grazes your skin with his fingertips, looking at how your eyes flutter shut and you lose yourself in his touch, however little and fleeting it is. Eventually he reaches your core. His thumb grazes over your clit and your back arcs off of the ground like you've been struck by lightning.

"Been thinking of this for so long," you admit, embarrassed at how your body reacted, but he doesn't mind. He wants more, in fact. His thumb leaves your clit as his index finger roams down to your aching core, you're dripping. Your slick juices coat your folds, making it glisten under the fluorescent lights.

Beau groans before sinking his finger into you until it reaches the knuckle. Before you can stop yourself, you release a pornographic moan and your hand comes to cover your mouth a second too late.

Beau smiles, "So wet for me," he groans, "Been wanting me to fuck you for so long?"

"Yes," you say breathlessly, rocking your hips up to meet his fingers half way when he fucks them into you.

"Think you can take me?" He asks, removing his fingers from you before wrapping them around his cock and jerking it a few times, smearing your wetness over his tip with a finger.

He lines himself up with your entrance,"Finally mine" he says, breathless, slipping his length in your soaked pussy

"Yours, yours, yours, yours," you chant, unable to think about anything other than the way he's stretching you, tearing you apart. He doesn't leave you any time to adjust to his size and you're grateful for it. You've been so desperate for him for months now, unable to cum to anything but the thought of him. If he'd taken the time to let you adjust, you think you might have just cried.

"Mine," he growls as his lips attack your jawline, nipping, kissing and licking his way down your neck to your collarbone.

"Mine," he says again, sinking his teeth in the soft flesh he finds there, and sucking an angry hickey. He raises his head and admires his work with a smirk, before lowering it back down and soothing it with a few licks of his tongue.

His hand moves to your breasts. Beau takes your nipple in between his thumb and index finger and rolls it gently, making you mewl in response.

"Please," you beg, your voice needy and high pitched, "Faster."

"Is that what you want?"

You nod

"Sometimes it's not about what you want, Angel. It's about what you need," he says lowering himself down so his chest is flush against yours. He's trapped you in and the idea that you're entirely at his mercy makes you both wild. With his lips next to your ear, he whispers, "And you need to be patient."

Beau pulls out and you whine, sounding deliciously bratty. It sends a shiver up his spine and lights his brain on fire. When he lines up with your entrance again, his legs shake with the effort it takes for him to gently glide in instead of slamming into you like he desperately wants to.

He manages it though and even gives you a few lazy thrusts to satiate you a little. Soon you’re mewling under him, desperate for something more. You try to lift your hips to meet him halfway, and he stops.

“Please,” you beg, letting out a frustrated sob.

Beau furrows his brow, “You want more, little brat? You want to come on my cock?” he asks and you nod furiously

“Please, please, please,” you say, “Please, Admiral.”

“Okay. Do it yourself,” he says, pulling out again and laying down on his back on the mat. In an instant, you’re straddling him again, immediately sinking down on his length. Even though he’s felt you before, it knocks the breath out of him.

You look so beautiful riding him. Your perky, round breasts are bouncing up and down as you lift yourself up and fall back down, your soaking core swallowing him whole. Your face contorts and he can feel you tighten around him. He’s so close behind but he holds it in just a moment longer. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, your eyes shut tight and your legs shake as your orgasm washes over you. You’re pussy is gripping him so tightly that keeping his resolve not to cum right then becomes a herculean task, but he hangs on, wanting you to make one last fantasy come true

“I need you to hit me,” he groans as soon as you seem to recover slightly from your high

“What?” you ask, groggily

“With your hand. Just slap me across the face,” he repeats

You obey, slapping him hard. The sharp sting is followed by intense pleasure and he teeters over the edge. He doesn’t even have time to warn you, or to pull out and ejaculate against something else, and perhaps he doesn’t want to. You whimper as he fills you, shooting ropes of cum deep inside your belly, your oversensitive core feeling every pulse.

Once he can think again, he flips you underneath him again, wanting nothing more than to lay with his head on your chest. He tries to pull out, barely even thinking of the mess it would make on the mat but you stop him.

“Stay,” you whisper, “Stay.”

“Okay,” he says, all too happy to listen

“Stay,” you whisper again when he accidentally moves, subconsciously trying to lighten the load on his knees, the mat not thick enough to make prolonged kneeling comfortable.

“Needy,” he chuckles, “I’ll need to pull out eventually,” he says and you pout, sticking your bottom lip out and giving him your best rendition of puppy dog eyes. He chuckles again and drops his head into your knees. After another moment of comfortable silence, he starts lazily thrusting into you. Overly sensitive and very full, you gasp softly.

“Good?” he asks

“So good,” you reply, “you?”

“Very good,”

“Think you can come again, Angel?”

“Mhm,” you answer, biting your bottom lip to stifle the loud moan that threatens to release itself when he hits the spongy bit inside you.

“Been wanting to do this for so long, Angel. Been wanting to bury my cock so deep inside you, fuck you till you come, fuck load after load inside your pretty pussy,”

“Trying to breed me, Admiral?”

“Fuck,” he gasps, “Yes. Yes, I wanna breed you. Make you mine,” he whispers. He suddenly lifts himself up on his forearms, one of his hands coming to rest itself against your throat. Cyclone squeezes gently, enough to stop your breathing but not enough that it hurts.

“Tap my leg if I’m hurting you. Three taps means stop,” he says

“Mhm” you managed to humm

He picks up the pace, thrusting himself into you, hitting your sensitive spot with every movement. The stifled moans coupled with the sight of you brings about a familiar sensation in his stomach. Even though he came not too long ago, the idea that he’s just fucking his cum into you and is about to empty himself in you again is making him feral. His hand releases your throat and before you can voice your disappointment, Beau grabs your chin. Instinctively, you open your mouth and Beau spits straight into it. He watches you swallow and lick your lips. He lets out a growl, the kind that starts from a rumble deep in his chest.

Your pussy tightens around his cock and he can tell you’re getting close. Wanting to give you what you so desperately want, he picks up the pace once more, forcefully driving himself into you. Bottoming out and pulling out almost all the way, eliciting pornographic moans until you can’t take it any more and that tight coil inside you snaps. Your eyes roll back into your skull and the beginning of a scream escapes your lips. Quick to act, Cyclone covers your mouth with one of his large hands, and with one last thrust, fills you again.

After a few moments, he pulls out without too much protest on your side. He gingerly stands up and thanks himself for bringing a bag and a change of clothes. Your sports bra and shorts are ruined with no chance of repair so he hands you one of his shirts with a wink. You pull yourself up on your legs and put it on. Because he's so much taller than you, the shirt falls just above your knee. It smells like him, and you're not sure you'll ever give it back. You'll keep it as a souvenir of the best sex of your life, in case you never get to do it again.

“You should drink something, you’ll feel better,” he says, noting how wobbly your legs seem as he ruffles through his bag and fishes out a water bottle. He twists the cap off and takes a swig, no doubt as a miracle cure for his own unsteady legs.

“I didn’t bring my bottle,” you say

“Well, you could always come to my room… I might have something for you to drink,” Beau says, thinking of the bottle of whiskey he snuck in on boarding day.

“I’m sure you do, Admiral,” you reply, staring straight at his crotch with hungry eyes, licking your lips. He swallows, all thoughts of the whiskey forgotten as you stand up and pull yourself against him, “Lead the way,” you whisper into his ear, your hot breath fanning across the skin of his neck, making goosebumps appear in its wake.

“Is that an order, Lieutenant?” he asks, half-joking, well aware of what your words are doing to him as a shiver shoots up his spine

“Would you like it to be?” you ask, “Do you like receiving orders, Beau?” you say, your teeth coming to nibble at the shell of his ear.

“Yes, ma’am,”

#fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #fanfiction #original fic #cyclone simpson #cyclone smut #beau simpson #beau cyclone simpson #cyclone x reader #cyclone

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fatherofmachine-a · 2 years

Note

“Sometimes, despite your best efforts, you can actually be quite charming, Finch,” punctuated by a cheeky grin.

WESTWORLD IV - SENTENCE MEMES | @anurbanlcgend

Harold could hear that grin through the comms loud and clear. Dark brows knit together as eyes narrowed, followed by the left side of his mouth tugging sideways; a playful, albeit exaggerated reaction of mock disbelief at the words. Harold scoffed.

"Sometimes?" A rhetorical question, with a hint of mock offense. "Accompanied with the information I have at my disposal, I'm always charming, Mr. Reese." Harold was half joking—people had always been ... difficult, but over the span of working the numbers with John, they'd begun to make a great deal more sense. He wasn't anywhere near as confident as he sounded, but ... he was getting there.

#anurbanlcgend #RUNNING ... ROLEPLAY.EXE. ( in character )#T; YOU NEED A PURPOSE. ( season 1 )#V; WHEN EVERYTHING IS OVER & THE WORST HAS HAPPENED﹐ THERE'S STILL ONE THING LEFT IN PANDORAS BOX—–HOPE. ( main | canon arcs )#OBJECTIVE COMPLETE. ( meme → filled )#HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE THE MACHINE SPOKE TO YOU? ( asks )#me also like: hhhh god i feel SO RUSTY #but here have this <3

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fatherofmachine · 2 years

Text

VERSE TAGS.

#V; WHEN EVERYTHING IS OVER & THE WORST HAS HAPPENED﹐ THERE'S STILL ONE THING LEFT IN PANDORA'S BOX; HOPE. ( main | canon arcs )#V; WHEN EVERYTHING IS OVER & THE WORST HAS HAPPENED﹐ THERE'S STILL ONE THING LEFT IN PANDORA'S BOX; HOPE. ( vague alternate arcs )#V; WE ALL HAVE SECRETS. THE ONES WE KEEP & THE ONES THAT ARE KEPT FROM US. ( Marvel comics | MCU AU )#V; THE BALANCE & HARMONY OF REASON & EMOTION﹐ NOT AT WAR﹐ BUT HAND IN HAND. ( DC comics | DCU | Gotham AUs )#V; SOMETIMES I WONDER IF WE COULDN’T OF DONE SOMETHING MORE MEANINGFUL ( if the machine never existed AU )#V; I THOUGHT YOU WOULD WANT ME TO STAY ALIVE. ( pre season 5 everybody lives AU )#V; I THOUGHT YOU WOULD WANT ME TO STAY ALIVE. ( post season 5 everybody lives AU )#V; IF YOU REALLY NEED A MYSTERY﹐ I RECOMMEND THE HUMAN HEART. ( pre established relationship AUs )#V; THE RICH & POWERFUL TAKE WHAT THEY WANT. WE STEAL IT BACK FOR YOU. WE PROVIDE … LEVERAGE. ( leverage AU )#V; I WOULD’VE STAYED UP WITH YOU ALL NIGHT﹐ HAD I KNOWN HOW TO SAVE A LIFE. ( alternate pilot AU )#V; NO HAROLD. I CHOSE A VOICE. ( the machine in root's body AU )#V; WE GO BACK TO LETTING HUMANITY DETERMINE ITS OWN FATE. ( hybrid of the machine & samaritan AU )#V; THERE IS NO CHARM EQUAL TO TENDERNESS OF HEART. ( the machine in a child's body AU )#V; REESE & FINCH ARE MARRIED﹐ PASS IT ON. ( married rinch AU )#V; DILLINGER HADN'T BEEN VERY TRUSTWORTHY EITHER. NONETHELESS﹐ A STRANGE SORT OF SOFT SPOT STILL LINGERED. ( dillinger survives au )#V; I'M TALKING ABOUT THE CRIMINALS THAT MATTER. THE ONES YOU CAN'T FIND BECAUSE YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW THEY EXIST. ( blacklist AU )#V; THESE VIOLENT DELIGHTS HAVE VIOLENT ENDS. ( westworld AU )#V; WHEN YOUR WORLD STOPS﹐ THE WORLD AROUND YOU KEEPS MOVING FORWARD & YOU WILL TOO. ( deaf root AU )#V; & I REMAIN WORRIED﹐ ABOUT WHAT SOMEONE ELSE MIGHT BUILD. SOMEONE WHO WASN'T WORRIED. ( .exe AU )

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doublerainbow-if · 10 months

Note

How would the RO’s react to learning about what the Mc’s home life was like with their parents?

M already knows since they witness it firsthand growing up with you. They still drown themselves in guilt for leaving you behind in that situation all those years ago. They hate themselves for that. But it grows worst when they hear what happened after they left.

L has already called dibs for beating up your dad. They are furious over what you grew up with and it further validates their disgust for the whole system. Less said about what they did to your sibling during that blowout reunion couple years ago the better.

B will be shook. They never really witness such toxic and abusive relationship between soulmates but hearing what you want through makes them question their worldview. They will offer Peter for comfort and try to be there for you.

J is wrapping you in one of their patented bear hugs. They will ask you to just let out everything about what you been through and let them be there to comfort you. Nobody should have to go through that. They can't say anything but they hope this is enough.

V feels like a kindred to you in a sense. They have memories of their mother going through the same thing as a child and how much it broke their parents. But they don't voice as it wasn't like what you been through so they offer their best condolences.

C has a more undertone reaction with "Well that sucks." But they take you out for a wild night on the town to forget all of that. The best way to get rid of that kind of memory is to drown it all out. They just want you to not think about it again.

Avery/Suman is driving you to their house to destress. You'll get bundle up in their living room surrounded by their dogs and all the comforting things you need. They fumble over their words as they try to make you happy in the here and now.

Kahula is canceling all of their plans. They get chewed out by their manager but this is more important. Prepare for a night of hanging out in high scale hotel and acting like you're a bunch of kids again. They often do this to unwind and forget the past.

#double rainbow- if #ros #thanks for the ask!#backstory

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venusofthehardsells · 2 years

Text

Written in Blood [one-shot]

Avenger!witch!ReaderxBucky, avenger!witch!Readerxdemon!Bucky

Summary: When an alien army attacks the Earth, you make a last ditch effort to save the planet, even if it means losing everything you love.

(Reader’s Avenger-name is Hecate)

Warnings: all the angst, violence, blood, major character death, smut, non-con, dub-con, monsterfucking technically I guess?, fingering, p in v, Supernatural elements (yes, that Supernatural), end of the world, swearing (ofc), magic, possession, lots of bad things happen

A/N: It is STILL October in some timezones so here is this fic I wanted to finish like two years ago. Happy fucking Halloween!

Huge thank you to @awesomerextyphoon and @sagechanoafterdark for cheering me on, it means everything! ♥

The rancid ashen air lies heavy in your nose and makes your eyes water. It is almost enough to blur the wall in front of you, but you blink the tears away with an angry sniffle and raise your bloodied fingers to finish writing the spell.

All around you, the city is on fire.

Screams and cries ring out from the burning high-rises in between metallic sounds of fighting. Crashes, gunfire. Voices blast your ears through your com, shouting for back-up, shouting for their lives. It'll be too late for most of them by the time you can reach them.

On the edge of your vision, a flash of blue, white and red lies abandoned in the rubble of the building that fell on you less than an hour earlier. You would have been under all those bricks if it hadn't been for him...

You have to stop and let the sobs wash over you.

Steve died trying to save you because you were out of your mind with grief and didn't react to the blast fast enough. It's your fault.

His shield is all that remains.

Gritting your teeth against the pain in your leg from where the blood you're writing with is coming from, you smear the next part of the spell as clearly as you can manage onto the raw concrete of the upturned wall.

Your intent and will is worth just as much as the signs you draw, every witch worth her salt knows that, but still you make an effort to get each line as cleanly drawn as possible.

The magic you're working is a different kind than the one Strange uses. It's ancient and feral and bought with blood.

It's not something he would approve of.

When he put you in charge of this point of attack, it was because he was out of options. You know he would have prefered Loki, but none of the Asgardians could be contacted and you wonder again that day if their world too has suffered this very doom somewhere all those light years away.

Strange had left you to deal with New York while he went to Singapore and Wanda to Wakanda, where the fighting was worst.

Right now though, you can't imagine anywhere worse.

"Hecate!," Stark's voice yells on the com, using your Avenger alias. "I need a status, now! Hecate! Answer me!"

But you don't, can't let him know what you're doing.

"Y/N, god dammit, please tell me you're not dead!"

But you are. As good as, anyway.

Ignoring Stark's pleading for you to answer, you press your fingers into your wound again with a groan, but it's no use, it's not deep enough to grant you any more paint and you need to get a few more lines of formalia down.

You unsheathe the knife you have fastened to your inner thigh and kiss the blade swiftly before bringing it down on your arm. It's the last knife you have left on you and it's the sharpest. Of course it is.

It's Bucky's.

As the fresh cut starts gushing, you have to wipe away more tears.

Four hours ago, one of the alien invaders caught Bucky in the neck with its talon-like fingers and you heard him gurgle and choke over the com as he went down. Stark had managed to pluck you from the scene when you started screaming.

A few seconds later, all Bucky's life readings from his suit had hit zero.

It had been too dangerous to go back for the body.

You clench your eyes shut.

There's no winning this war.

With fingers red from your newly opened vein, you draw the last symbols of your spell.

Your summoning.

It fills the entire chunk of concrete. As soon as you're done, you wrap a scrap of your sleeve around your arm to stop the flow; you feel dizzy on your feet and you’re slightly panting, leaning on the remains of a bench. Or at least, you assume it’s a bench.

Even without the bloodloss and the heartbreak, you’ve been knocked and kicked and beaten around since long before dawn. Now, it’s nearly dusk. The only thing keeping you on your feet is the sheer desperation that has also brought you to conjure up this dark, nasty magic. The last resort.

"Parker, Romanoff, someone give me a twenty on Hecate! I think her com's broken."

Still not answering, you begin chanting. The language is old, long forgotten to the world and it fills your mouth heavy as a stone when the words form and tumble into the air; it's almost a living thing.

It's as if the summoning wants to happen.

You've always stayed clear of this particular sort of magic, as all the cleverest and most long-lived of your foremothers did, but none of them were about to lose the entire planet. In the grander scheme of things, your trespass doesn't look unreasonable.

"Mr Stark, sir, I can see Y/N. She's… it looks like she's talking to someone."

"Where are you, kid? I'm heading your way. Does she look injured?"

"I- I don't know what I'm seeing… Holy shit, that's… there's so much blood, Mr Stark. I don't know what she's- How..."

As Peter starts to realize you must be doing magic of some sort, it seems to dawn on Tony Stark as well.

"Fuck. Strange warned me she'd do something dangerous. Kid, whatever you do, you gotta stop her!"

Poor Peter. There's no way he'll get through the protective shield you cast around you so you could conjure undisturbed and neither is anyone else, at least for now.

The last line in the conjuring spell rolls off your tongue and it is as if it all goes quiet around you. The very air seems to hold its breath, waiting…

Somewhere far away, you think you hear something crash into the magical barrier surrounding you, but maybe it's just your heartbeat throbbing in your ears.

It has to work. It has to. If no one shows, if your spell didn't reach out, down, then…

Then you don't think you can bear another second in this wasteland that was once a city.

The moments crawl by and you wait. There's nothing else to do anymore, is there?

Waiting, listening, praying. But then again, if praying did any good, you wouldn't be here.

"Now this is a pleasant surprise," a voice speaks up behind you and you can feel the blood turn to ice in your veins.

That voice, it can't be.

He's dead, you saw him die.

Very slowly, as if trying to delay the inevitable, you turn around to glance at what your efforts have brought forth.

No.

It's Bucky.

Or rather, it is a demon wearing Bucky's flesh. There's more left of your super soldier than you had dared to hope for, but the way the demon moves his legs and his arms and the way it crooks his head looking at you through eyes filled with empty blackness makes it clear that the most vital part must be gone.

He, it, smiles with the mouth of the man you love and you can feel the tears rise anew in your tired eyes.

You knew it would be bad, but this…

"Get out of him," you whisper, your throat clinging thickly to the words.

The thing inside Bucky's body grins and blood trickles out through his parted lips, fresh red against the dried black on his chin and neck.

"Don't think so, dollface. It's not every day you get a call like this. Had to make an impression."

The voice, oh god, there's something in the voice you know so well seeping through from the demon using it to speak and it makes your stomach churn. It was only yesterday that same sweet voice told you that Bucky Barnes loved you, but hearing it now is a nightmare.

The demon leans on the other end of the destroyed bench you're using to keep yourself upright, biting its lower lip.

"I have to say, I couldn't believe my luck when you called. An Avenger." It whistles, letting its black eyes roam over your dirty, bruised form. "We make deals with celebrities and politicians all the time, but you! You're supposed to be beyond reproach, all of you. Untouchable. When I heard your summoning, I had to come myself. Someone like you deserves a more… personal treatment."

It reaches out and lets Bucky's fingers brush your cheek in a loving gesture that almost makes you gag.

In a brief moment, you manage to see past the face of your dead lover and look upon the being’s true face. It’s not just an ordinary demon. It’s the face of the Devil.

"You're quite the legend downstairs, you know," he says softly, stroking the tears and grime from under your eye with a dark metal thumb. "A lineage blood witch so powerful, working with SHIELD's leashed heroes to save the world… Failing, obviously." The smirk on his face is so wide and so vile you can't imagine Bucky ever producing that expression himself. "We're still baffled they didn't kill you as soon as they found you. Of course, you have played your big, brilliant savior-role splendidly. I almost shed a tear when you took that bullet for Lang's daughter. Oscar-worthy, truly."

"You really like to hear yourself talk, don't you?," you grit out. It's a struggle not to recoil from its touch.

The smirk grows impossibly wider.

"Can you blame me, sweetheart? I haven't worn a human in centuries. I'd almost forgotten how it feels."

He rolls Bucky's shoulders the way one might do trying on a new jacket.

"And this one is interesting. Technology these days." He chuckles, inspecting the metal arm and, mercifully, removing its fingers from you to have a closer look at them. "It's marvelous. Makes up for how dark it is in this grapefruit of his. This one doesn't need to go to Hell, he's practically there already. I feel right at home."

He chuckles, but it's like watching a wax figure coming to life and trying to act like the person whose image it was sculpted in. You have never seen or felt anything remotely as uncanny before.

You need to send the Devil back to Hell right now while he still hasn't hurt anyone.

"If you won't get out, I'll force you."

"Oh, please." The way the Devil smiles is overbearing. "Right now, I'm the only thing keeping lover boy ticking. Without me, he's just a dead meatsuit."

It feels like your lungs have been vacuumed.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"It can't be."

"Is too. Your precious Bucky is still in here. Not being very generous about sharing this body, I might add. The ungrateful bastard is screaming himself hoarse trying to get me to leave-"

"No!"

His smirk grows into another grin at your outburst and you both know he's got you exactly where he wants you.

"Thought not. As delightful as this back and forth threatening is, how about we cut to the chase? You don't exorcize me, I don't let your boyfriend bleed out. Instead, why don't you tell me what it is you want, hmm?"

The way your stomach rolls with pain has nothing to do with the hits you've taken in the fight so far.

"I want to make a deal." Your voice is only just audible over the wind, but Bucky's face lights up with malicious barely contained glee; he heard you loud and clear.

"Go on," he prompts, licking his lips.

"I…" The air in your shriveled lungs fails you, so you try again. "I want Bucky and Steve back, I want all of them back, I… want all of this to never happen."

And you are willing to do anything for it apparently.

But for the first time, he shakes his head.

"Oh, honey. Now why would I do that?"

"What?," you breathe, disbelief written all over your face.

"Think about it. How many people have died in the last twenty four hours alone? Business is flourishing. The souls are teeming into Hell and at this rate it won't stop any time soon. It's better than the damn Apocalypse! I don't wanna undo all of this."

Every instinct you have is screaming at you to send him back to Hell, but it is as though all the fight has gone out of you at the refusal. You were ready to offer anything in return, had prepared for it and now the damn thing won’t deal?

It’s the end of the world and you’re out of moves.

The end of the world…

The Apocalypse…

The thought strikes you so hard and so fast you almost think it’s a bullet.

“This isn’t the endgame you want,” you hear yourself say with far more conviction than you feel.

The Devil cocks his head, amusement trembling on his lips.

“Really?”

“People are dying-”

“Do you really think I care-”

“People are dying,” you maintain firmly, “and their souls go up or they go down, until they don’t. This isn’t an invasion, it’s an extermination.”. Bucky’s black eyes are burning into you, but you continue. “These invaders don’t plan on leaving anyone alive. It might take weeks or months even, but at some point, they’ll have killed every human on the planet and there’ll be no more souls for you to harvest. Ever. Your Apocalypse won’t even be able to happen because there’ll be nothing left for any of you to fight for. You’ll be rotting in the pit for eternity. How’s that for business, honey?”

Bucky’s features scrunch into a snarl and he janks you to him by your jaw. His fingers dig into your skin hard enough to bruise.

“I should snap Barnes’ beautiful little neck for good, you insolent-”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m right.”

“You’re too clever for your own good, sugar,” he hisses, holding you close enough to feel his breath on your face. “But you’re forgetting something. I’m not the only one up here dealing right now.”

Fuck.

Shit.

“Twenty six of my employees are up here as we speak, looking to close deals themselves. They are only waiting for me to give them the green light and those twenty-six other desperate humans, well, let’s just say… they’re not all as clever as you.”

He clenches your jaw again and you wince in pain.

If someone makes a demon deal on this scale, you can’t even begin to think of the consequences it will have if they don’t fully understand what they’re doing. And best case scenario still includes someone innocent signing over their soul.

“Fine. Get your minions in line and we’ll deal.”

“Atta girl.” Bucky’s metal arm goes around your shoulders and forces you to sit down on the charred remains of the bench seat. The close proximity, the way your body is now pressed against his makes you feel sick. “So, what do you think we can do for each other?”

"I want the world back the way it was before-"

"Yes, before the alien horde attacked it. You've said that already. Don't bore me, sweet cheeks," he warns and a shiver creeps through you. "How do you even know I have that kind of power, hm?"

"Don't you?"

“Depends on what I’m being offered,” he drawls and your skin runs cold. “I believe you know how this usually goes. One wish for one soul, collected ten years down the road. If that’s what you’re hoping for, I might as well leave it to my employees and call it a day.”

He trails Bucky’s vibranium fingers down the back of your neck, making goosebumps rise in their wake and you close your eyes as hard as you can to focus on thinking, not vomiting.

“You can have me.” The scene of the building falling on Steve keeps replaying itself in your mind’s eye over and over in a vicious loop, prompting you to force out the words. “My soul isn’t just any other soul. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Arrogant. But correct.”

“And I don’t need ten years, just one.” The knot in your stomach feels as though it has moved up into your throat and it hurts to speak around it.

“Why should I give you as much as a day? You’re not exactly asking for pennies, sugar. The magic you want from me is off the charts. You should consider yourself lucky I don’t deep-fry you for even suggesting it.”

He enjoys every word he speaks out of Bucky’s mouth the way one might a sip of Champagne. But you have to endure his teasing, otherwise… there is no otherwise.

Clenching your fists, you turn and meet his blacked out eyes.

“I’m the only Avenger you’ll ever get and you know it. Every one of them is ready to repent and I have it on good authority they’re quite large upstairs with whom they accept these days. The Asguardians have their own deal. Wanda Maximoff is probably going to outlive you. Strange too. And if you had Steve…” The firmness in your voice wobbles and your eyes grow hot with tears. “If you had Steve you would be rubbing it in my face,” you finish in a quieter tone. Bucky cocks his head with a smirk.

“Yes, I most certainly would.”

“So I’m all there is,” you maintain stubbornly, forcing yourself not to cry outright. "My soul and any future soul headed your way. A new possible eternity to gear up for your pissing contest with the halo crew. All I ask in return is a year. This year, the one we've just had."

"Interesting." He studies your face with a mix of triumph and amused apprehension. He's close. So close in fact that you can feel his breath on your lips and smell the dried blood in his mouth. "You do realize that proper wording is everything?"

"I do." You have to swallow hard not to gag or cry or maybe outright scream. This is the only play you have. If he doesn't agree, no one else is going to save you, save everyone. "My soul for a one year reset. Do we have a deal?"

He licks his lips slowly in thought, blacked out eyes never leaving yours.

“Not so fast, cherry pie. Your soul for another year still leads to this place, this moment. Earth overrun by an alien army and no more business for little old me. If you’re just trying to trick me into giving you more naked tumbling time with your soldier boys-”

“I am trying to save the world! And you’re how I’m going to do it, so unless one of those twenty-six other random idiots miraculously have a better offer for you, I suggest you take it.”

When you finally realize you’re shouting at the Devil, it’s too late. The familiar metal fingers are around your throat before you can even think to say you’re sorry and they’re squeezing so hard you’re sure you’ve used up his patience. It’s not like he’s known for it.

“You witches always were a bunch of condescending whores,” he hisses. It’s so quiet you can only hear him because his teeth are practically scraping your cheeks with the words. “I’ll take your sorry little deal, baby. And I’ll make sure your dear Jamie gets to watch and feel every single second of it. Give him a little taste of what’s waiting for you when it’s all over. A dreamy dose of nightmare fuel to top off the horror show in this melon.”

With the hand that’s still flesh and bone, he tears at your fitted tactical suit, easily ripping it open and exposing you to his gaze. Shame burns in your cheeks. You knew it would go this way, but for it to have to be Bucky…

He starts to peel off pieces of your torn suit until you’re bared in front of him. You’ve done rituals and sex spells before, shedding clothes is nothing new. But having them ripped from your body by the Devil wearing your lover with one hand while he chokes you with the other makes you feel naked in an entirely different way.

Normally when Bucky rips your clothes off, it makes you feel desired and sexy and powerful. This is… so far from that. It's cold and it's ugly. It makes you want to push him away with everything in your arsenal, your muscles, your magic, shit, you're ready to claw his face bloody with your fingernails, but you don't.

You just stay where you are and let him throw you to the ground, asphalt and tiles beneath the debris biting into the skin and bruises on your back.

Trying not to cry, because if you start there is no way you can stop.

The body lowering itself onto yours is at the same time familiar and foreign to you. As he starts to undo his belt and zipper of the tactical suit, you allow yourself for just a moment to imagine that it is Bucky, your Bucky. And that everything will be fine again.

But then his mismatched hands glide over your hips, squeezing far harder than Bucky ever would, and there is no way you can keep imagining it's really him, no way you want to.

Bucky didn't consent to this.

Because of what you've done, he is once again a prisoner in his own mind and even though he won't remember this, despite what the Devil said to rattle you, that is no excuse. He is being used all over again for something that Bucky himself would never allow. To make a deal with the Devil, to conjure dark magic… to hurt you. It has got to be his worst nightmare made real, all over again.

All because you were careless and desperate.

I'm sorry, my love, you think, closing your eyes.

This was meant to be your sacrifice and yours alone.

Bucky's body feels a thousand times heavier upon your own than it usually is, but you know it has to be that way, otherwise the last shred of your conscience would crumble completely. This has to hurt you too.

His warm hand slips in between your legs and his smirk is right above your face, dripping hot blood into your eyes.

"Think you can give me a little something to work with, honey?," he grins and drags his fingers through your folds, making you squirm to get away before you can stop yourself. "You know we both gotta commit here."

You grit your teeth and force yourself to lie still. The fingers you know so well start to circle your clit, but it takes forever before you feel anything but discomfort - little threads of warmth, only the beginnings of something pleasurable - and at that point, your little nub is too sore from the pressure for it to do much.

"Tough customer, huh," he smirks, clearly enjoying your helplessness. "Don't worry, I'll get you there, sweetheart. I've got everything I need in here, inside Barnes' pretty head…"

That may be so, but you can feel the difference because this isn't Bucky, not really. He kisses you roughly on the mouth. It's a struggle not to gag, but accept his tongue and let him explore. He tastes of dirt and blood and magic. He takes his time.

His fingers begin working between your legs again, slower this time, in a motion that forces a surprised little gasp out of you. He slides one thick finger in between your lips, barely dipping into you at first, just stroking your folds languidly and occasionally massaging your clit again with much gentler motions than first.

The way Bucky would do it.

The first time your legs tremble around his hand, he smirks and moves his kisses to the side of your neck.

“Knew you’d warm up to me, sugar,” he grins, licking up the underside of your jaw. “Just imagine it’s really me… doll.”

You can't help it, you let out a tiny whimper against his ear and it's not all pain anymore. You know better than this, but fuck, he's using that voice, the deep, gravelly one that goes straight to your core so much faster and more effective than his fingers.

And even though it’s wrong, you’ve made your choice. You made it the second you started writing the summoning spell.

So in the end, you lean your head back on the ground and close your eyes, let him work you over until you can’t hold back the moans any longer. They spill out of you as Bucky’s fingers rub your clit in faster and faster circles, his other hand holding you down because your hips are shaking and bucking away from the onslaught of pleasure his touch evokes, more and more, there is no way your body can take it…

The pleasure peaks and sparks through your veins. It feels awful. It feels delicious.

All your aching muscles pulse with the orgasm and he doesn’t stop to let you come down, no, instead he plunges two fingers into you and continues to rub your clit with his thumb while he searches for the spot inside of you that immediately makes you cry out when he touches it.

“There we go, doll, you can give me one more.”

Smirking, even with your eyes closed you know he has to be smirking at the way your body reacts to him.

And you do give him one more. His fingers stroke and rub your sweet spot expertly while the rough pad of his thumb keeps pressure on your clit just the way Bucky always does when he wants to keep you strung high on pleasure and it works. Another orgasm crashes into the ebb of the former and makes you wail into his long, dirty hair. He keeps you locked in place even when you jolt in his hold, thrashing almost because it's too much, it feels too good, you're burning up from all the places his hand is touching you.

You whimper as he withdraws his fingers, soaked in your glistening wetness but he doesn't leave you wanting for very long.

He starts unbuckling his tactical belt and it falls to the ground with a clank. His pants follow shortly and you’re still shaking, still too overwhelmed in the afterglow of your sweet Bucky’s fingers as he takes out his cock and slides it through your slick folds with a grin on those bloodied lips.

“Deal’s on, baby,” he whispers and the sting of his teeth drawing blood from your earlobe disappears when he buries his cock within your walls in one, smooth thrust.

Your eyes roll back into your head and inside your fitted combat boots you curl your toes at the feeling. Your mouth falls open in a gasp of pitiful ecstasy.

Somewhere in the haze of pain and adrenaline and grief and serotonin and the primal fear of dying, your mind still knows this is wrong and that you should be utterly revolted by what the two of you are doing with Bucky’s body, but you just can’t.

The warmth of your lover’s familiar form is a balm on your heart that you don’t deserve, but you welcome it anyway. The salty taste of your tears of pleasure overshadows the bitter tang of blood. He groans in your ear.

Every thrust of his hips feel like home.

You almost cry out his name, it feels so good, but you bite down the instinct at the last second. Instead you close your eyes and try to lose yourself in the wild rhythm of your joined bodies that has you clinging onto him for dear life. The pace is brutal. You never expected otherwise.

And soon enough, the heat is blazing up in you again, making you groan, making you squeeze down on him.

“Oh God, fuck… fuck…,” you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulders and Bucky’s laugh that you know so well washes over you.

“God doesn’t care, dollface,” he grins, leaning back just enough to get the metal hand in between you and rub his thumb on your clit, “just be glad that I do.”

He moves his hips faster, pinning you down by the hips with the hand not between your legs and this time you do scream.

As your body finally succumbs to the pleasure, you throw your head back and wail into the darkness around you. It reverberates through both of you, through the ground and your shield and the slab of stone covered in your bloody summons. You writhe and thrash in his grip under the wave of the orgasm crashing through you, wanting it to be over, wanting it to go on forever.

And with a sound somewhere between a broken moan and a winded, manic laugh, the demon on top of you at last spills his cum inside of you to seal the magical contract.

He doesn’t stop moving until your cunt has milked every drop from him, your soft silken walls pulsing with the climax long after he’s done.

You want to lie there and bask in the afterglow until your shielding spell fails, pretending just a while longer that you’re lying in Bucky’s loving arms while you wait for the inevitable end of everything.

Every little piece of you wants it.

The tears that roll down your grimy cheeks now are cold.

The ground is getting harder under your stiff back and you can feel the chill quickly settling in your bones.

“Well, that was certainly worth my time.” You grit your teeth against the sight of Bucky’s blacked out eyes so close to yours and steel yourself as much as you can.

He softly strokes your cheek and makes a show of pulling out of you slowly, kissing you sweetly on your stubbornly shut lips the way the real Bucky would have done.

It’s a struggle not to wince but somehow you manage to lie there and let his antics wash over you without blinking. As soon as he steps away from you though, you’re off the ground and covering yourself up the best you can with what’s left of your torn tactical suit.

He zips himself back into the confines of his pants completely unhurried.

“So…” He stretches both arms leisurely above his head, looking you over. It would make your skin crawl if you had the time to really think about it but you don’t let yourself think at all. There’s no room for anything but what you’re about to do.

“So what?,” you shoot back mirthlessly. “We have a deal. Now deliver.”

“Your bedside manners are terrible, did loverboy here ever tell you that?”

The inside of your cheek breaks between your teeth as you hold back a furious retort.

“Don’t worry sugarplum, I am going to work my magic and make all of this nastiness go away.” He twirls on the spot, savoring the wreckage of New York around him. “But I am still curious. What are you going to do with your year, hm?”

It’s still difficult to look at him and not see Bucky. Your heart aches in your chest like a wound when the thought strikes you that this is the last time you’re going to see him and it isn’t even really him. Just the devil wearing his body. A body you just helped defile.

But you still manage to meet his eyes.

“I’m going to cast a spell. Turn those aliens into fucking dust before they even set eyes on this planet.”

You can feel the world slowly starting to change around you as you speak. It’s like a wet painting left outside in the rain, colors dripping down the canvas until the motive is all blurry shapes and splotches of acrylics.

Time is crawling backwards outside of your protective circle.

Bucky’s mouth twitches.

“You are very powerful, no doubt about that. But one spell against an army? You’re not exactly The Scarlet Witch, babycakes. Did a roll in the hay with little old me incite such illusions of grandeur in that lovely little head of yours?”

“Nimue’s Hand,” you bite and in less than a second Bucky’s features shift into a mask of rage. It’s almost satisfying when his fingers close around your throat and squeeze.

“You fucking whore!”, he yells into your face, slamming you against the concrete wall still bloodied from your summoning spell. “You filthy, cheating little… witch.”

And despite the fact that you can hardly breathe, that your vision is going fuzzy at the edges and a fresh pain is swelling in the back of your head, you grin at him.

“That’s right. You know that spell, don’t you?”

You don’t have to ask. Of course he knows.

Nimue’s Hand is an ancient spell of pure annihilation. No one has ever cast it before, otherwise… the world would know it. It has been passed down through the generations of witches as far back as the line has existed, whispered from mother to daughter for hundreds of years, probably even longer.

It is a morsel of forbidden knowledge that despite everything has managed to stay a secret lurking in the very depths of every witch’s consciousness, never spoken aloud, never used.

Until now.

The spell is so powerful that casting it will rip your very soul to shreds and scatter them among the stars. You are never going to find rest but it’s a cost you’re willing to pay.

A last resort.

Bucky roars and lets go of you, punching the wall next to your head so hard the whole thing disintegrates. But that is all he can do.

You have a deal.

He never said an intact soul. And af all, proper wording is everything.

It’s your turn to laugh. Wheezing and coughing, you can’t help it. At this point, it is all you really have to laugh about.

The world is coming into view around you again. You’re no longer wearing the tactical gear from the battle but instead the dress you were wearing a year ago is materializing on your skin. Bucky’s wounds are healing, the blood is disappearing and his suit is changing into running shorts and a white T-shirt. Together with his black eyes and the way he snarls and yells in fury, it looks almost comical.

You can’t dwell on it though.

You’re on a clock now.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” you manage to get out as you brush the concrete dust off your arms. “I’ll see you in a year.”

He grips your upper arm so tightly you know it’s going to bruise but you can’t care about that now. Slowly he leans in and traces a finger down the side of your face with the flesh hand, pure and utter hatred seeping from his every pore.

“Oh, I’ll see you, Y/N. I’m going to stick every last piece of that splintered soul I’m owed back together, no matter how long it takes and when I do… well…”

His nail cuts into the skin on your jaw, making you wince despite yourself.

“I’m not going to be as sweet as Jamie here.”

You try not to shudder as he lets go of you and turns to leave. You allow yourself to see him walk away and the exact moment the devil leaves Bucky’s body is obvious.

He stops in the middle of what is no longer a burned out crater, but instead an almost empty street in the early afternoon, and looks around a bit disoriented.

Fresh tears prickle at your eyes and you can feel your heart nearly coming to a stop in your chest.

This is the day you first met. In a few moments he is going to turn around and see you, ask you for directions because he got lost in his own head for a bit and must have turned down the wrong street. His slightly embarrassed little smile as he said it…

The second before he spots you, you turn around and walk away, leaving him behind.

Fists clenched, vision blurred.

Angrily, you wipe at your eyes, ignoring how easy it would be to turn back and still bump into him, to get that wonderful year with him and Steve again.

You can’t think like that.

It takes a lot of effort to prepare your soul for the casting of your spell and after all, you did make a deal. You need to focus.

Your time is already running out.

#bucky barnes x reader #demon!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction

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