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dovithedarklord · 1 month

Text

Stucked - Part 6

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

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Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, König x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains blood and gore, violence, injury, some body horror, description of grotesque creatures, some monster smut (light), and some dubcon (lightly). Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

This part unveils a new evil!

There's a new threat, but your old friends are close by. Who knows what happens after...

Have fun! :D

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

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Like a faded picture that has been imprisoned in the depths of a drawer for decades, the vision is projected as faintly on the canvases of your eyelids. As if it were just a vision born on the plastic soil of a dream, nothing else, the memory that takes shape in your head seems so unbelievable. This horrible place has been holding you in its embrace hot with the stench of death for so long, that the images left from the real world seem to your brain like the remnants of a life that never existed. However, you're sure that the melodious children's laughter ringing in your ears is real, and you know that it belongs to someone who was once important to you. In this friendly fantasy world, there is no decay and no blood, only the inviting rays of the sun, which guide you to the surface with warm fingers, as you frolic under the cool foams, mimicking a mermaid. You paddle nimbly with your little hands as the princess of the secret underwater realm, and each tiny shell and grain of sand greets you as a subject of your kingdom as you swim above them. And when someone pulls you out of your adventure and lifts you back into the air, warm from the summer heat, you sulk and argue, trying to get free, but whoever the stranger is, they only respond with amused laughter. And your heart almost sinks at the fact that only blurred spots dance in front of your eyes when you look up at the figure who kisses the top of your little head and hugs you so tenderly. Because you know you should know her, but nothing breaks through the darkness in your skull apart from the feeling of loss that gnaws at your insides.

Although for a moment you don't understand why your own mind is turning against you, but even your frozen shock is penetrated by a faint recognition, that there is a reason why this is exactly the memory that arose in you after the many horrors you experienced. And it seems a very cruel trick from your subconscious that now, when an unknown force drags you deeper and deeper toward the bottomless pits of the icy water, it calls up this exact one out of the many mementos slowly fading to nothingness. Because you know that now the sun-tanned hand won't rush to your aid to save you from the frosty, otherworldly empire that is drawing you closer and closer to its gate made of torn bodies with each passing second.

And as if you just woke up from an unwanted slumber, you realize that no matter how much you want to linger on the soft lap of soothing reminders of the past, and no matter how much all your instincts protest against letting the false security of the images dancing on your eyelids slip away, you have other things to do. Oh, how easy it would be to let it end like this, rocking in the heavy arms of the cool water, finally die without rough hands trying to bask in the warmth of your still living organs. But you have work to do. And this ultimately breaks your body out of the shock injected into you by the unknown attacker, which pulled you under the surface, heavy with rot and death.

As soon as your resolve finally pushes you back from the temptation of the soft, shapeless drifting of unconsciousness, the shortness of breath tightening your chest reaches your senses, and your mouth opens in a desperate gasp before you can stop the reflexive movement. And as the cold water breaks through your lips and you feel the musty taste of mud on your tongue, your jaw snaps shut with such alarmed speed that you swear that you feel your teeth cracking. However, a stray sip of water that has gone astray still finds its way into your trachea, and as it pushes along the soft tissues like a thousand tiny blades, you would instinctively start to cough, but you're only able to ease the pressure of a force squeezing your ribs for a few pathetic seconds.

Your eyes open in fear, and you can see the taunting invitation of the moon's pale light even through the sting of the water blurring your vision, and you can almost feel how mockingly the silvery beams laugh at your torment. And as you become aware of with what frightening certainty the last faintly twinkling trace of the starry sky starts to disappear, your brain catches up with the facts, and even through the lack of oxygen, you understand painfully fast that the fragile thread of your life will soon come to a pitiful end and break under the cruel weight of the waves gathering above you. And because of this, your body, for the umpteenth time during the night, surges you towards action, and as the cocktail of stress hormones in your veins revives, you try to propel yourself upwards with almost instinctive movements. But no matter how you paddle with your hands, just as your legs would also join in the frantic work, the alien creature wrapped around your ankle tightens its grip even more, and the suppressed scream that is born in your lungs only echoes in your skull, when you feel how cruelly its spikes drill into your bruised flesh. You can sense, quite horrified, how the poison, similar to liquid fire, creeps through the boundary of the skin and muscles pulsing with agony. And you know that whatever this formless beast tries to inject into your body, soon it will help tip you back into oblivion so that you allow yourself to be driven into the predator's waiting claws with a willing daze.

Your hands rush towards the wretched monster holding your feet captive, and even you're surprised when you grab hold of the sleek extensions of a seaweed-like plant. And even though the army of thorns rising from the slippery tissue cut into your palm, you don't care about how the suffering radiates through your arm like a lightning strike, instead, gritting your teeth, you try to loosen your shackles, because it's only a matter of time before your luck runs out and you're back in that goddamn car again. Crimson drops of blood emerge like snakes from under the wounded skin, and the more fiercely you fight with the cursed seaweed, the cerise fluid surrounds you like a vague mist, casting your figure, wild from the fury of the struggle, into the midst of blood-red clouds.

All your nerves are occupied by the heat of your battle, because you feel it all too well how the merciless iron fist around your chest is closing, as if someone had thrown you into a press, and the metal plates weighing on you were trying to slowly drive your ribs into the living flesh. And you would swear that even through the gurgle of liquid against your eardrums, you can hear the horrible, almost insidious snapping of the hair-thin cracks running down your bones, as if a heavy boot were treading on freshly fallen branches.

But even through your despair, it occurs to you how strange it is that the crackles travel into your ears through the roar of the water so clearly, even though you know that nothing but the sound of bubbles could penetrate the chaos created by your panic. And when you catch a pale spot moving from the corner of your eye, like an uncertain vision dancing on the edge of your consciousness, you stop chasing your release for a minute. First, through the hazy clouds cast by your blood, you see a broken form unfolding, looking more like the dried remains of a wind-twisted and battered tree than anything else. However, when the tormented figure seems to be approaching, and the scarlet veil finally fades due to your immobility, then the shock cuts through even the tension of air that is stuck in your throat. Because your brain, fighting with hypoxia, understands that the creature is swimming closer to you with measured laziness, which may have previously feasted on the disintegrating corpses washed to the surface.

A pair of milky white eyes take shape from the dark, endless void with an almost otherworldly light, and the hunger looming in them paints the mouth so dreadful, which stretches into an impossibly wide snarl with cruel joy when it discovers in you its prey frozen in fear. As if the corners of its mouth were trying to get around the elongated head, splitting the dry, ashy skin on its skull like grotesque cuts. Yet, your eyes are immediately drawn to the pale gums and the sharp teeth protruding from them, stained a dirty brown by the rotting pieces of meat sitting on them. And as the twisted, thin body floats closer, a series of dim, tormented blots appear behind it, like an army of faithful shadows, which absorb the rays of moonlight piercing the water, bringing an ominous night to the desolate realm of the lake.

And it doesn't take much time, just a mere fleeting second, and you become sure that you have to flee, because these horrible devilish beings will clean the pliant network of muscles and tendons from your bones before suffocation has a chance to push you into the saving ignorance of unconsciousness. That's why the fierceness of survival awakens in you anew, and even you yourself can't believe the power that terror stirs in you, when you almost tear the tentacles of the stubborn seaweed from you, and the adrenaline that settles on your nerves doesn't allow the pain caused by the attack of the thorns stabbing into your palm to reach you. And if you'd have time, you would burst into tears of joy when the damned plant finally releases your ankle, but you have no time to be relieved, because you see the cautious advance of the distorted beasts squirming in the corner of your eyes, and you can feel the small waves on your skin that their excitedly grinding teeth create.

You're almost desperately try to swim towards the surface, and although the force of the pressure gnawing at your insides increases with each hasty movement, and small black spots slowly crawl into your field of vision, you don't care about the agony that crushes the soft tissues of your internal organs. When your hand finally breaks through the mirror-smooth border of the lake's surface for the first time, and your fingers are caressed by the prickle of the cold night air, then all the suffering that has tried to push you into the silky lap of another death disappears. And perhaps you've never been so happy to see the moon sprawled out like a divine being in the middle of this imaginary world, and you're not at all bothered by the sardonic glee with which its sparkling, silvery gaze follows how you begin to swallow the life-giving oxygen like a pitiful fish on dry land. Although you forcefully cough out the remnants of the water that have strayed into your airways, as soon as the first sip of air fills your chest aching with burning stinging, and the specks squirming in front of your eyes vanish, you have the strength to focus on the way out. And you know that you don't have time to hesitate any longer, because you can see the moving outline of the unknown monsters gathering below you.

You run your gaze along the landscape shrouded in dreadful stillness, and you feel your stomach flutter with gratitude when you discover how seductively close the line of the shallow shore stretches behind you. You only wildly hope that you're able to outrun these horrible creatures, as you put each of your tired limbs to work and start swimming without any delay, because it only takes one of these awful beings to catch you, and your remains will be reduced to tiny crumbs of bones and viscera. And despite the fact that you've met your end countless times, you know that each of your deaths would pale in comparison to being torn to pieces alive by these infernal abominations. Perhaps this is the motivation that breaks through the last barrier in your consciousness and helps to get your body to move with an unprecedented urgency, and this is what dulls the ear-splitting scream-like noise of the frenzy unfolding behind you.

The few minutes seem like millennia until you finally reach the swampy ground, and you stumble to your feet, yanking your shoes from the mud's stubborn grip with an angry cry as you clumsily drag yourself ashore. And as you finally make it to the edge of the wet sand, you drop to your knees, panting, allowing yourself a few meager seconds to rest before you're forced to run again from the evils that stalk you. Because you’re sure that whatever the tentacled creature was, it's still lurking in the depths of the abyss, and the two murderers can also be breathing down your neck thanks to the terrible sidequest you've fallen into. Almost instinctively, your hand sinks into the pocket of the soaked pants, and when you find the disconcertingly untouched map, you feel a heavy weight lift off your heart. All you have to do is to lie low a bit, and then calmly set off to look for the next clue, which can finally get you out of this ever-deepening madness.

But when that bone-shaking scream blasts into the silence of the night once again, you wince reflexively, like a startled animal that has finally realized that the predator will soon wrap its foul-smelling jaws around its neck. And although by now you should have gotten used to the fact that this goddamn place always lulls you into a mirage-like illusion of tranquility with the promise of a moment of ease, only to avenge its mercy all the more cruelly, yet now fear claws into your insides with the same force as if you were experiencing the terrors of this nightmare for the first time. Because when you glance back, you see the cloudy eyes break through from under the velvety, rippling veil of the water, like faintly looming ghosts that were vomited out by the mouth of the lake opening to the other world, to drag you with them into the pits of insatiable hell. One of the gruesome figures emerges from the waves rocking like liquid obsidian, and its sickly thin body straightens amid gut-wrenching crackles, as if every single bone would slide into place on top of another, crumbling under the withered tissue. But even though the beast looks ungainly, when its mouth full of sharp teeth opens and that high-pitched, whistle-like screech rushes out of it, you clamp your hands to your ears to try to dull the pain of the head-splitting sound, and with the pain piercing your eardrums, you realize that if you don't get away now, then those teeth will be painted ruby by your intestines next time.

However, before you can even move, the howling stops, and it takes a few moments for your mind to register what is happening. And when you discover that pair of glowing red eyes appear behind the enraged army of monsters, you wish these bastards would rip you apart alive, because maybe that would be a more pleasant death than what those smoldering irises have in store for you. Because there is such a hungry temper dancing in them that settles into the aggressive movement with which the stranger takes hold of the head of the menacing water creature about to attack, lifting it up into the air. His huge palm swallows its face green from algae, and the way his strong hand clenches around the abomination's skull seems almost pitifully simple, as if the wretch would be nothing more than a worm to be trampled upon. And you feel how your insides convulse with nausea when the stomach-turning crunch, with which the bones shatter into pieces, reaches your ear canals, and you desperately try to swallow back the bitter bile pooling in your mouth, as, after a wet splash, you see the soft, pink flesh spilling out between the hooded monster's long fingers.

It seems that this makes the other grotesque entities understand that something more terrifying than them has arrived, and they swim back to the protective shelter of the lake with such ready submission, as if they were trying to hide from the sight of their angry king, before he would erupt into a frightening rage. Through the dread slowly bubbling under your skin, you realize that maybe this man really is their ruler, since the horde of malformed forces living in the water turned against you after he first surfaced behind the sea of mutilated bodies. And perhaps there is some woefully obvious logic in this, since the game wouldn't have allowed this new location to appear if there hadn't been an even more horrible surprise waiting for you in it. When the last of his terrified subjects finally disappears, the giant starts towards you with lazy steps, and with each passing meter it becomes more and more noticeable, how the hard muscles weave through every terrible corner of his tall figure, and suddenly it becomes painfully clear to you that even the bloodthirsty shadows skulking in the forest would offer greater safety if you threw yourself into the arms of formless darkness now.

You try to get up shaking, because you understand that you're just hanging another death flag on your forehead with your hesitation, but as soon as you put weight on your wounded leg, a bitter pain shoots into your ankle, as if someone were trying to twist your foot around its axis with their bare hands, and from the stars dancing before your eyes, you helplessly let your knees buckle and help you fall back into the mud with a dull thud. And even though you try to relieve the persistent throbbing of the white-hot pain with the air inhaled through your nose, by the time your head clears enough to be able to get yourself to move, your body, trembling with agony, is already swallowed up by the all-consuming shadow of the man towering over you, and you know that you’re done for. You don't have to turn around to know that the hooded monster has finally stalked you down, because you can see the black blanket with which his large figure covers the ground decorated with small stones and plants washed up on the shore.

You don't even dare to move for a little bit, and you feel ridiculously stupid for offering yourself on a silver platter with your person immobilized by terror. As if you were willingly present your chest to him so that he can tear out your scared, beating heart, but you can't even twitch, because, with the pounding of your pulse in your ears, the fear spreads through every inch of your body, pushing every muscle fiber into paralyzed helplessness. And you feel how the blood freezes in your veins, when a terribly sweet scent snakes its way into your nose, like the smell of the juices of rotten fruit left under the rays of the summer sun, which at the same time enters your head and covers the frightened upheaval in your skull under some inexplicable hazy fog, and tightens your stomach in a death-tight grip. Although this strange smell brings you closer to dizziness, even in the confused daze that descends upon you, you can perfectly detect when an unknown creature glides onto your shoulder with a damp springiness, then slowly slithers its way up the graceful line of your neck like a curious leech. You're unable to restrain the reflexive movement that makes you cringe in alarm under the curious touch of the uninvited guest, and even though every fiber of your body turns to stone, you raise your eyes to the intruder despite the anxiety gathering in the pit of your stomach. And when you discover the pitch-black tentacle shining with a velvety light, and the purple suckers lined up on them, which breathe unsolicited kisses to the valley of your cleavage, you yelp and charge forward to try to crawl away from the monster with such panicked clumsiness, like a wounded wild animal trying to escape from the wolf with its last breath.

However, no matter how hard you try to break free, the fear raging in your body only leads to an uncoordinated shuffling, and you fall to your stomach on the fish-smelling ground, hissing from the ache that rips through your ankle. Your mouth fills with tiny grains of wet sand, but you don't mind the sour taste on your tongue, because it penetrates your terror much more clearly when you feel the searing heat of another body behind you, seeping through the thin material of your soaked t-shirt like a contagious disease. And you know that the end of the night has arrived, because when you see a giant hand sinking into the mud next to your head, you recognize, along with the horrible delusions flooding into your mind, that you already lost your chance of survival when you waded into that damn lake.

And the newcomer doesn't leave you a moment to recover from your shock, because you just got rid of the intrusion of the sticky organ, you feel the tentacle breaking under the battered fabric of your top, and you can't stop the terrified tremor that moves into your limbs in time, when the probing caress of the feelers passes through the tense arch of your spine. The tenderness with which he traces the small valley between your shoulder blades is almost stomach-churning, because you're aware that with one careless movement, he could unfurl the row of vertebrae from under your skin like fresh peas from their shell. And you know that he only wants to lull your vigilance with the fleeting gentleness with which the appendage moves towards the line of your ribs to try to migrate to your chest, like a lover who wants to explore the lush curves of his beloved's body. And your brain, stuck in the fear of death, is relieved a little when the sleek arm finds an obstacle in the moldy ground, but the small joy that takes hold in you is pitifully short-lived, because your attacker only grabs your hips with a frustrated grunt and pulls you up with such light carelessness, which you wouldn't be able to fight even if the horrors of the night didn't weigh on your every cell like a leaden blanket. And as his fingers sink into the soft flesh, you feel that following the touch of restrained power, the mark of his hand will soon be ingrained into you with a purple color.

Still, you’re much more horrified, and goosebumps run over every defenseless inch of your body, as the clammy limb reaches your bra on its path, and a startled squeak gets stuck behind your quivering lips that is elicited from you by the attack of the slimy organ burrowing under the soft material. You don't dare tear your eyes away from the pebble shining with a dull light, which rises orphaned from a small sand dune in front of you, because you're terrified that if you follow how the monster takes what your vulnerable body offers to him unwillingly, you will sink even deeper in the muddy swamp of terror. Yet every nerve ending in you is sharpened when you feel the cold, slick flesh sliding against the soft mound of your breast. And there is something repulsively intimate about how one of the suckers latches onto your nipple with an almost insatiable hunger, as if this monster wasn't holding you in the trap of his strong body for the first time. As if he's got his hand on a delicacy, the nectar of which he has tasted at some point, and now the longing for the tantalizing aroma on his tongue would drive him forward. But your brain cannot understand why this absurd thought awakens in you, because it's unable to focus on anything other than the involuntary shiver that runs along your spine when it sucks the sensitive skin that has become its prey with an almost playful lewdness. And this small act is enough for the miserable moan, that has been crawling up your throat on foul feet until now, to finally break through your mouth.

And as if this one sound would feed the horrible man's unquenchable greed, for you shudder in horror, as another tentacle wanders over the nervously heaving line of your belly with slow laziness, and for a terrible moment it just flirtatiously skims along the waistline of your pants. But his patience doesn't last long, because he pushes under your jeans with an almost violent want, and you don't even have time to react, the limb sinks under the damp material of your panties with such insidious speed. Your consciousness can't keep up with the siege on your body, but it still fills you with agony as the lush flame of desire flares up in your stomach, as one of the suckers closes around your clit. And the muddled whine that creeps up your trachea is unfamiliar even to your own ears, when the wet pressure increases around the sensitive bundle of nerves, because you would rather bite your own tongue in shame, but the shock that rolls over you is too strong to resist the pull of the sensation.

But when you feel the feeler gliding between the silky petals and almost curiously circling the entrance of your pussy throbbing with scorching heat, then the fire of protest rekindles in you, and you set your hands on the damp ground to brace yourself against the beast. But even though your unexpected opposition gives you momentum, it feels like you hit a concrete wall, the man's chest swelling with hard muscles press against your back with such unshakable confidence, and you become aware painfully soon what kind of fun you've made him have, when the hardness that bulges in his crotch pushes against your bottom. And he, perhaps mistakenly, perhaps on purpose, sees your pathetic attempt as an invitation, and the deep, throaty groan rings in your ears, with which he thrusts his cock against you with impatient fervor, like a damned animal ready to mate. And as his huge hand clamp down on your hips with an almost vise-like force, even the stray idea of escape suddenly seems like a ridiculously far-fetched dream, because his fingers will crush all your fragile bones to dust before letting you get lost into the night. But even though the icy poison of dread sneaks into your every brain cell, you know you have to take flight, since the goal hasn't changed. You have to survive. And if you stay here, you voluntarily count down the minutes until the moment of your death, which, no matter what sweet torment the game promises, you know it's coming.

And as if he would sense that he cannot drive away the stillborn idea of resistance from you with his insidious tactics, that hurtful, syrupy smell appears again, which fills your nose with such a vicious intrusion that you have no chance to understand what is happening, because as soon as the dark fog spreads over your brain, the burning tingle that sends liquid flames into your core saturates every inch of you. An almost drunken intoxication settles on you, and it's only a dull fear in the back of your mind that he might be using some kind of pheromones to deter you from running away, but even though you recognize the diabolical method with which he traps you, you're no longer able to pull yourself together. The desperate demand of lust stirs up in you too strongly, and suddenly it doesn't seem alarming at all, as the tip of the tentacle that ventured into your underwear teasingly slips into your wet heat just for a moment. And you don't even have enough common sense to understand how terribly pitiful it is that you willingly squeeze your trembling body against the stranger like a bitch in heat.

And if the hooded man didn't suddenly freeze over you, you wouldn't even notice what was happening around you, because his presence settles on every single one of your senses, as if someone would drip hot wax on you, slowly closing you in an impenetrable shell, condemning you to eternal lustful suffering. But as vehemently as he started, your attacker ends his torturous game as abruptly, and as the impenetrable veil of the treacly essence in your head is inexplicably replaced by the metallic smell of blood, then your consciousness is able to clear. And although it takes a few excruciating moments before your brain is finally capable of receiving the stimuli from the outside world, then you can hear quite well the pain-filled, enraged groan that breaks out of the monster's mouth, as a large knife lands in the sand with a dull thud a few short seconds later.

And there is nothing tender about the way the long appendages terrorizing you disappear and one hand smoothes on your back to pin you down to the ground, almost ramming you into the cold embrace of the wet soil, and for a moment the air is forced from your lungs, as his huge palm spreads between your shoulder blades with warning roughness. And you understand the silent instruction even without words, and the revived stabbing of fear escaping into your limbs helps to force you into corpse-like immobility. And that's when you hear the soft crunch of the autumn leaves, as something treads through them to sneak cautiously closer to you in the distance. Your frightened gaze is immediately fixed on the trees rising beyond the shore, but for a tense second, you see nothing but darkness shrouded in eerie silence. However, the man notices what you don't, and his robust figure towers over you so possessively, like a rabid animal protecting its prey, and you don't even feel like more than a piece of meat, which the cruel world of the game has turned into such an irresistible reward.

"Get the fuck back into the lake, König!" A deep voice breaks through the heavy quietness of the forest, and you would recognize Johnny's hoarse baritone out of a thousand, because you have been lucky enough to taste the danger of its deceptive bloodlust too many times. But now, as the outline of his body unfolds from under the black veil of shadows among the vegetation, you recognize the murderous anger, the icy tension of which sits in the line of his broad shoulders. And although you only see a distant figure moving out of the corner of your eye, the anxiety in the pit of your stomach immediately tells you that Simon is the one who stalks through the tangle of wild bushes like a big cat about to pounce. "She's ours."

And you can feel on your back how that angry voice resonates through the chest of the beast holding you down, with which he finally responds to the appearance of the uninvited visitors. And for a minute that seems like an eternity, nothing happens, and being stuck in this horrible anticipation, the panic awakens in you, which makes your brain finally able to form meaningful thoughts, and you can spot that tiny little detail that has been resting in front of your nose until now so happily. Because the man's hand is still resting in front of you, digging into the mud, and when you see the row of red beads adorning the thick wrist, the spark of recognition lights up in your head. After all, this terrible place doesn't place anything unnecessarily, and the crimson glimmer that brings the bracelet to life under the silvery rays of the moonlight cannot be a mere coincidence. This is a clue, and perhaps this whole horrible torture has prepared this moment. And you feel in your gut that you have to get it.

Therefore, taking advantage of the fact that the hooded creature is centering all its attention on the enemy hiding in the thick of the trees, one of your hands moves with cautious slowness to crawl toward the jewel, and every single one of your senses is keenly focusing to see when will the creature above you, who is becoming more and more furious, notice what you’re preparing in such great secrecy. And as your fingers get caught in the thin cord of the precious object, you look up in terror at the behemoth above you, and the pounding of your heart in your ears quiets down slightly when you see how unceasingly it scans the emptiness behind the thick trunks. And you only see it in your periphery, as something with a metallic glint shoots out from the infinity of the forest, and that's enough for the tentacles lurking above you to act on their own, wild with rage, certainly working to save their owner from an attack intended to be fatal. However, this one act unleashes all hell, because the monster suddenly loses its patience and launches forward with an aggressive roar like a demonic beast thirsty for blood, and he doesn't even notice how the bracelet is torn off him as he pushes forward toward his opponents who are hiding behind the vegetation.

And you know that you have no time to waste, because it's only a matter of time before the bloodshed unfolds and you become an unwilling participant, from which there will be no way out, only certain death and another miserable awakening in the back seat of the car. So, forcing the will into your limbs, you push yourself up onto your knees, and a series of dark spots swim into your vision, as a knife-like pain shoots into your ankle even from this harmless movement. But you swallow the scream that is about to escape your lips, because if you draw the attention of these scumbags to you now, all your chances of escape will be gone. That's why, overcoming the throbbing ache, you reach towards the pearls scattered in the sand, and as you collect the ruby spheres in your palm, they glow up in red, leaving behind a cool tingling sensation. The smoldering light travels along your arm, and as if guided by an invisible force, reaches your tortured leg, and you watch in amazement as the bruises drawn by the violence disappear from the skin in the wake of the faint glow. It takes a second for you to realize what has happened, and when you notice the sounds of the fight unfolding in the forest, you hastily put your treasure in the safety of your pocket. You'll have time to wonder what the hell is going on when you finally manage to disappear from your pursuers again.

That's why you just spring up nimbly and head towards the multitude of trees, hoping that the battle, drowned in increasingly violent shouts, will drag on long enough for them to lose track of you. Because the night is still long, and you're quite sure that no matter where your path leads, more horrors will be waiting for you, because this damned place will do everything to lock you in the glass cage of its fictional world. But with the map and the pearls in your pocket, the hope, that you might live to see the dawn and you get out of here, finally rekindles in you.

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willowedhepatica · 6 months

Note

Avatrice + snowed in?

A robin wants to escape the storm. It's skittering, wings flapping in hectic motion between the cup of Beatrice palms.

Ava had left the window open.

It thrums, small chest heaving against her hand and Beatrice wonders if it's afraid or simply fights by simple compulsion.

Like she fought the grip of her parents' control to finally find herself amongst sisters.

"You're safe." She whispers, thumb brushing.

Their eyes are black. Small but wide as it looks up at her with a form of indignation.

How strange it felt to see herself in a bird.

"Beatrice?"

She looks up to find Ava standing by the doorstep. Her eyes flick to the open window, then to the wet spot to the floor and at last to the bird in her hand.

"You forgot to close the window." Beatrice says.

Ava walks closer. "Oh my god, did it fly inside?"

"It did. I believe it was trying to seek shelter."

Her eyes glint with awe. She's still ignoring the open window. The storm. The way the hair on her neck stands on end by the cold. "Bea, I need to hold it."

"It needs to be released outside."

Her head tilts to the side and she rocks forward on the heels of her feet. "Come on, just for a minute? I'll let it go afterwards." Her eyes are pleading, soft but still stubborn and Beatrice can physically feel her resolve slip.

Christ.

"Fine." She says, giving in far too easily for her own liking.

Their fingers brush as she transfers it to Ava's hands and she holds on just long enough to make sure it doesn't escape. Her skin tingles from the contact. Her hand curls by her side as she watches Ava bring it closer to her chest.

"She's gorgeous."

"It's a male. You can see by the bright rustic colour on his chest and yellow bill. Females are generally much duller in appearance."

"Oh, sorry." Instead of directing the apology to Beatrice she directs it towards the bird.

He doesn't seem at all amused.

Ava's nose crinkle. "I'm not sure he likes us very much."

"He probably just feels trapped." Beatrice mumbles, more so to herself than anyone else. The snow had come down for days. They hadn't been able to go anywhere for a while and it's making Ava restless. And bored. So bored that the most interesting thing was a bird flying into their living room.

"Can we keep it?"

"Absolutely not."

There's a pause where it looks like she's gearing up to protest.

The bird chirps, stirring in her grip and she looks down and sighs. "Alright, okay. Fine." She walks up to the window, opening it a little wider so she could lean out and release it.

It bursts from her uncupped hands and into its element, dipping past the little store on the other side of the street, wingbeats spasming before it disappears between a large pine tree weighted by snow.

She closes it after her and the room goes silent. The sound of the wind whistling as it drags against treetops seize to exist.

As if they were in a space completely detached from everything around them. From the world.

How risky that could be. How invisible Beatrice could feel.

Maybe now - in this span of time, she could dare to be bold. She could dare to finally, finally, break that tension that seemed to lay between them.

The thread could loosen and she could take a step forward.

“Ava-”

“You know, if I were a bird I think I would want to be a robin.”

Beatrice brows crinkle. Ava always had a talent for catching her off guard. “Why?”

Ava shrugs. “Rumours say they appear when loved ones are near.”

It's said so casually Beatrice has to repeat it in her head a few times before processing it. Loved one? Did Ava believe…

Ava's eyes fall to the space between her neck and her collarbone. “Bea…” She walks closer, Beatrice breath stutters when she leans forward, body close and fingers brushing over the collar of her shirt before she straightens up. “It dropped one of its feathers.”

She exhales. “Ava.”

The feather is brown, pinched between her thumb and index finger as she inspects it with more attention than Beatrice thinks it deserved.

She's right here.

“This one is definitely going in my collection.”

Beatrice huffs, something between a laugh and pure bewilderment. “Ava.”

Ever since they came to Switzerland, Ava had had a tendency to collect small trinkets that normally would be uninteresting. Like the smooth black stone from the lake where they trained or a broken part of a wine bottle she dropped on her first week as a bartender.

Finally, Ava turns her attention towards her, lips setting into that adorably confused frown. “What?”

“Do you believe the robin flew in here for a reason?” She's not sure why she asks. Not sure why a part of her wants to know. That itching, restless part who couldn't stop analysing everything between them like that would make a connection.

“Do you want there to be a reason?” The question seems genuine, curious even.

Her hands ball into fists. She inclines her head.

“Hey.” In the next breath Ava is in front of her, taking her hand in her own. She's gentle, nudging at her fingers to make her open up. Her thumb skims over her palm in a hesitant motion. “I was joking, promise. I mean if I was a bird I would probably just fly headfirst into class or some shit, so not a good fit for me.”

Beatrice huffs, not helping the small smile that slowly tugs free. “You know that's not at all what I mean.”

“I know.” She laughs, eyes softening. “It's okay.”

It's okay. It's okay.

Her chest swells. She exhales, breath shaky as she search for some sort of hesitance. Ava is looking back at her, unmoving - for a change - seeing if she gets it. It's okay. For so long she'd held herself back, refusing to get close to anyone or anything. For so long she's been terrified to let her guard down.

But Ava takes her hand and it's like everything falls apart. All her restraints. All her doubts. Leaving only her left in its entirety.

Ava watches her as if she knows. As if she understands.

For once, it doesn't scare her.

She intertwines her fingers with hers.

“Okay.”

#warrior nun #sister beatrice #ava silva #this is probably not what you had in mind #me neither to be honest #i hope its not too incoherent #this all came from me seeing that video about gay robins on christmas cards #and my thoughts inevitably strayed to them

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iamacolor · 2 years

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i am once again very annoyed they cut youngwoo's scenes. she opened up to junho after the miscommunication and then... they cut it to give us more non communication!? like you expect me to think after she told him that, he left and nothing got resolved that night? PLEASE. next day shes looking at him through her window and they obviously didnt get anywhere like what? i was like "finally he went straight to the point" when they finally got a chance to talk and NOTHING ADVANCED. im very annoyed. they're 2521 this. they're making such a mess. i know theres a second season but if you cant finish the first one on a decent note then?? all the characters have weird ass stories. suyeon trying to get with minwoo after he was doing something to impress her for 5 secs? where was your fierce stand before? u had standards like junho but go for minwoo? girl pls. i miss attorney jung. he was the highlight of this ep tbh ;-; him and youngwoo together > then adding more shit to the sumi line with her son being the hacker?? like i thought i was gonna breathe at least for the season finale (before we knew there was a second season) imagine going into tmrw thinking the series was gonna end there i would go crazy but i already am. the show went from a super high to somehow being very inconsistent in the last eps... like at this rate they'll beat 2521 for sloppy writing :/

I share that sentiment anon ! I was so annoyed when they cut that scene because it's just nonsensical to cut a conversation there??? and it means it doesn't really serve a purpose because yes junho knows why she doesn't want to keep going with him but he didn't even get to respond to it and her to him? what's the point if she keeps on thinking she's incapable of making someone happy??? and no one has this kind of conversation and then just walks away from each other djflsgdkq honestly this scene didn't make feel like we, the viewers, were really taken seriously because it's such a cheap trick to keep on dragging a plot tjat I can't take it as the characters' behaviour when they still haven't resolved their issues because it's so obviously not based on how their actually function

as for sooyeon... what are they trying to achieve with her? @kdramedies has written several good points about how sooyeon behaves with youngwoo and how the show didn't actually make her go that far in her evolution regarding her ableism so now we get her falling for minwoo and her agreeing with him over youngwoo's "privilege" and it's like oh ok so who's actually on youngwoo's side ? and at this point it seems like it's only attorney jung whose relationship with youngwoo is a delight to watch and definitely the most well developed one in the show lol

the fact that they added the brother at the last minute omg I still don't really know if they wrote this season knowing there would be a second season or not (and i guess I'll find out based on how ep16 ends lol) , if they did know about it I guess it makes sense to add him even towards the end but they're still not fully sure they'll be able to make a second season happen with everyone it seems so why not try to wrap season 1 properly without adding too much first... no matter what it's going to make this finale so rushed and full of so many plot points I'm dizzy thinking about everything lol inconsistent is a good word for this show

also personally I didn't find 2521 that sloppy in its writing? aside from how the juxtaposition of the past and the present were kind of weird and how the pacing between heedo's high-school days and her days as an athlete was unbalanced so the heedo-yi rim romance was rushed but tbh I don't remember much because I wasn't that engrossed by it so I can't really compare both shows, they just seem too different to me

#extraordinary attorney woo #anonymous #I've got mail

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19thsentry-blog · 2 years

Text

In The Shadows

Miraculous Ladybug Fanfic (Lukanette Endgame)

Chapters

Prelude | Chp 1 | Chp 2 | Chp 3 | Chp 4 | Chp 5 | Chp 6 | Chp 7 | Chp 8 | Chp 9 | Chp 10 | Chp 11 | Chp 12 | Chp 13 | Chp 14 | Chp 15 | Chp 16 | Chp 17 | Chp 18 | Chp 19 | Epilogue | Worlds Not Our Own | Timeline

Chapter Four: Back Down The Rabbit Hole (AO3 Link)

Chapter Snapshot

Despite all the people around him, pushing to get down to the subway or to one of the many shops that lined the sidewalks, Luka knew that he was the one being followed. He could feel the gaze on his neck like it was a breath that whispered on his skin, a soft but vibrant warning like a tuning fork. After his first month in New York the pervasive feeling felt like the flicker of a porch light, only every once and awhile garnering his notice but slowly gaining intensity, and a few days after Marinette had left for Paris it was on him all the time.

It really had been like Roman Holiday. Marinette had been so focused on the romance of it all, the way the stars had aligned just right to make it all happen, that she had forgotten how the end of that movie went. Princess Ann knew she had to go back to her home country, that there was a sacred duty she always had to bow to, and that was why Joe Bradley drove her back to the embassy himself--even if neither of them wanted her to go. The next day at the final press conference, they stared into each other's eyes with so many things left unsaid…and that was it. Princess Ann left. And it was beautiful and bittersweet and a classic because she left and he never said a word. They didn't make promises to see each other again. Princess Ann didn't tell Joe Bradley that she would wait for him because she knew better. And that's why Princess Ann, a totally fictional character, knew more than Marinette did.

When she opened the familiar trap door to her room and lugged her suitcase through, banging it on the stairs (she probably should have taken up her father's offer to carry it for her, but she was feeling stubborn) she was hit with an overwhelming state of grief. The Kwamis swarmed around her affectionately, welcoming her home with cheery voices and she really tried to keep it all together until it was late at night, and she was in bed, staring at the same ceiling she'd been staring at since she was 5.

It was all still here. Hawkmoth and Mayura. The ever-present pressure of her secret identity and duties as the Guardian. Thoughts about the future and her career, hoping to impress and desperate to create something worthwhile. Chat Noir loving her. Her loving Adrien.

Yep. All still here.

But it hadn't been last night, had it? Last night she didn't have that all hanging over her head…she was just Marinette, a girl on a first date with a guy who didn't follow up all their conversations or hangouts with "Oh, that's just my good friend Marinette!".

Marinette's hand stole under the pillow and pulled out the Jagged Stone guitar pick Luka had given her. He'd been paying for their ice cream and about three guitar picks flew out along with his wallet, and she'd stooped to pick them up without thinking about it. Of course he'd been watching her with those careful (and somehow also carefree) eyes of his, noting that she had spent special attention to the Jagged Stone pick in particular, turning it this way and that and running her finger down the edge of it. "You should keep it," he said, smiling. "I've got the record, right? Now we'll both have something."

And she could feel it, some invisible line tying them together even an ocean away, an inerasable piece of proof that for one night Luka had been hers. Someone had been hers. And maybe, really, that's why she hadn't followed Princess Ann's peerless example. Because she needed to know someone out there loved Marinette the girl (woman), and she could keep pretending that nothing else existed.

Because this? The real world? It hurt. And it hurt more every day. The world was sitting on her shoulders, ancient powers and promises strapping it tight around her back and chest and throat until she couldn't breathe anymore, until eventually she would have the life choked out of her and nothing would matter.

She screwed her eyes shut and tried to stop. Once she started thinking about it again, the walls would start to feel like they were closing in on her and she didn't want that. When Marinette opened her eyes again and felt the clean edges of the pick, the firm but gentle give of it, she just wanted to remember Luka. Marinette wanted to believe that there would be a world where he'd text her, and she would look up and he would be there again in the middle of the street. He'd look at her like he'd run through fire just to get to where she was—like he was being pulled towards her and just couldn't help it.

Marinette turned on her other side to look at the corkboard of pictures, the scattered faces of her friends normally induced some sense of comfort…and she'd spent far too many nights staring at Adrien's face until she eventually fell asleep. She'd known just a month into her tenure as Ladybug that she had completely missed the boat on ever being in a relationship with Adrien. Besides the seeming lack of interest, being Ladybug took too much of her time in conjunction with everything else. She knew that and had tried to cool off the remnants of her crush. But really, who was Marinette when she wasn't in love with Adrien? It had been so long; she really didn't know. She felt like the dog from the Pavlov experiments. Hear Adrien's name? Daydream. Smell his cologne? Get dizzy. See Adrien's face? Drool.

Looking at it from a distance she had to start to wonder if her crush was just a way to fill the remaining time she had during the day, without ever having to wonder about the repercussions of if he decided he liked her back and wanted to date. Because that wasn't ever going to happen.

But this, she thought staring at the guitar pick, maybe this could happen. It could catch like wildfire and engulf her before she knew which way was up. Luka had asked if she would wait for him, hadn’t he? He’d come for her someday soon, right? Marinette threw the covers over her face and tried in vain to sleep. Eventually her eyes slid closed, finally catching on to the fact that she really was tired, even though her brain was having a hard time getting the memo. When she finally drifted off, her brain weaved merry alternative universes that she would be left to dissect in the morning.

The one she clung to, revisiting over and over in a desperate (pathetic) attempt not to forget, was one where she took Audrey Bourgeois up on her offer to work under her as a fledgling designer in New York. She got on the helicopter with her (after a daring scene where she found Hawk Moth and Mayura and demanded their Miraculouses back with a "pretty please" and they handed them over, with the other two lost Miraculouses to boot). Marinette became the freshest designer whose creations hit the runway, and after her incredible success she went out to celebrate, and there Luka was, standing outside the venue like he'd been waiting for her to show up all his life. And they were happy. The End. Neat and tidy.

And because that's what she wanted, that's what the universe was determined not to give her. Instead, it had been a full three days and Luka still hadn't texted her and she was trying to be the bigger person about it (because hadn't she said that she'd wait? And hadn't she also decided it shouldn't ever happen anyway?). But she was still Marinette--she was still breathing and laughing and seeing her friends and working her butt off on her portfolio. Marinette might be a clumsy mess of a girl, but she was never down for long.

She was caught trying to remind herself of that when she was 3 days behind schedule and had knots the size of baseballs in her shoulders. Nothing screamed "Marinette" like panic sewing at 2 in the morning while occasionally whimpering like the white rabbit, a constant string of "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late," coming out of her mouth. If she didn't have this outfit ready for the rock n' roll shoot she was planning for her portfolio, a domino effect of hell would inevitably be launched.

Not able to finish the fantasy outfits because of all the time she spent on this stupid rock n' roll shoot? Then all the effort her friends put into creating the scenery for her would be wasted and they would hate her, and her portfolio would be weak, and Adrien would wince before handing it to Gabriel. Gabriel would laugh and rip the photos to shreds, telling her he would never consider recommending her for the Lanvin apprenticeship because she was clearly inferior, and Adrien would be sad that he put his name on the line for her and she messed it up--she'd never become a designer and would end up broke and destitute and living in a van down by the river and then someone would steal the Miracle Box from her and the whole universe was REALLY riding on the fact that she could sew this DAMN leather together in time--

The black cat pager that sat on her desk began to vibrate wildly, the sound of it interrupting the monologue of doom in her head. "Not now! Why now! I can't go now!!" she moaned. And yet despite herself, Marinette was already throwing down her half-assembled outfit, scrambling to stop the stupid pager from vibrating.

Tikki had perked up from Marinette's pillow on her bed, wiping at an eye with one of her flippers. "Marinette? Do you need me?" she asked blearily.

Marinette huffed, slamming the pager back down on her desk. "Yes, I'm sorry--sounds like there's trouble," she said. "Ready?"

Tikki nodded, and in a flash of pink Marinette was Ladybug, leaping and bounding through the cool Parisian fall night. She flipped open her yo-yo to check Chat Noir's location--across the museum by the Eiffel Tower, on Av. Franco-Russe. She put in an extra burst of speed. The avenue was tight, the backs of buildings facing each other stoically, and wrought-iron balconies and dark windows lined the road. Chat was lounging on a long, squat red-brick garage, waving at her with a wide smile. She landed next to him with a thump, the shock going straight to her knees, before looking around wildly.

"Alright kitty, where's the fire?" It was peaceful, quiet--no sound but the wind blowing through the leaves of the tall tree behind the garage.

Chat lopped up gracefully and bowed, "No fire, besides the burning of my heart to see you--"

"CHAT NOIR! It's two in the morning!!" Ladybug hissed, grabbing him by one of the cat ears on his head. She could never be sure if they functioned like actual ears, but they moved according to his moods, so she supposed he must be able to feel it.

"Ow, hey! I didn't just call you for cracker jacks and tiddlywinks, I promise!" He shook his ear out from her pinched fingers and rubbed his head with a pout. "Plagg couldn't sleep. He wanted to know if you managed to find the Snake Miraculous holder--you didn't stick around after the show the other day."

Any remnants of anger were flushed out of her and replaced by a flash of guilt. She hadn’t seen Chat Noir since the day she found the bane of her existence in New York and had totally lost to him. Not something she liked to ruminate on. "Oh. Right. I'm sorry about that." Ladybug sighed and motioned for him to come and sit on the edge of the garage facing the tree.

"You looked upset. Is everything okay?"

She wondered if she'd ever be able to answer that question with "why yes, everything's just swell!" and not have it be a lie. Chat Noir's deep green eyes were like emerald pools, staring back at her with every emotion she couldn’t handle right now. Love, adoration, concern, hope--couldn't handle it in herself or anyone else. Ladybug sighed. "No, it's…definitely not okay. I'm feeling pretty overwhelmed right now. And whoever the holder of the Snake Miraculous is, they are way above my skill level. I couldn’t even touch them."

A frown flashed on Chat Noir's face, offended on her behalf. "I can't imagine that--you're incredible."

"Not like this guy--I mean, you should have been there, it was like he wasn't even trying." That was probably the most frustrating part. Every move he could counter, every step she took it was like he was reading her mind. She wasn't that predictable, was she?

Chat Noir shifted slightly on the ledge, head down. "I could've been, you know," he mumbled sullenly. He looked up at her from under his light brown eyelashes, clarifying when she looked confused. "I could have been there with you."

Ladybug shook her head resolutely. "I needed you here. If both of us were gone, who would've protected Paris? If we hadn't gotten back in time, who knows what kind of damage Hawk Moth or Mayura could have done. Anyway, I don't know if it would have done any good. I know the Snake Miraculous gives the holder the ability to turn back time, but I never once saw him go for his bracelet. He didn't even look slightly ruffled at anything I threw at him."

Chat processed that for a moment, one finger on his lips, before turning to her. "So you managed to find him and he immediately picked a fight with you?"

She winced. "Uh. Well. Not exactly."

A wicked grin spread on his face. "You picked the fight with him."

"What else was I supposed to do!" She threw her arms in the air. "I've got to get the damn thing back somehow!"

"Ahh, bugaboo," Chat Noir tsk'd with a self-satisfied look on his face, tapping her nose with one clawed finger. "This is why you need me around to be impulsive for you, so you can think! Did you even get to see if he was a bad guy before you started conking him on the head with your yo-yo?"

"Oh, he's definitely a bad guy. No questions about that. He's clearly using the Miraculous for personal reasons." It still pissed her off thinking about it. In her mind's eye she could see him, one foot on his bounty and that damn grin on his face with that sarcastic 'gotta eat' attitude (that's not exactly what happened, but the longer she thought about it the more it became reality).

Chat Noir chuckled and reclined back, laying down to stare at the stars. His belt/tail was swaying contently off the building. "Well, what's the next plan of attack? How can I help?"

"There is no plan of attack, at least not yet. If I found him once I can find him again, but I've got too much going on to do much more than stew on it for a few weeks." Her eyelids were starting to give out on her--exhaustion didn't even begin to cover it. She'd thrown herself into a work frenzy just to stop thinking about when Luka might text her. If he ever did at all. Maybe she should count her blessings and assume the whole thing was over with.

Ladybug felt Chat Noir's hand cover her own. He had sat up again, cat eyes scanning her features in the darkness. "It'll be alright, milady. We'll figure it out."

She gave him her best imitation of a smile. "Thanks. I should get going," she said, gently pulling her hand from his. She needed the comfort but letting Chat Noir do it seemed wrong when she knew how he felt about her. She never wanted to lead him on. "Tell Plagg I'm sorry. That I couldn't do more."

Ladybug didn't wait for his response before whizzing away, yo-yo pulling her up and over an apartment building. There was still too much to be done for her to be sitting around.

Luka drifted through the heavily crowded sidewalk, deftly ignoring any shoves to the shoulder as passersby rushed past him, dodging where he could and taking the beating elsewise. Despite everyone's insistence on personal space in New York, it didn't stop you from getting body chucked if you were in the way. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the concrete jungle as the sun began to set, human chatter the only animal sounds that could be heard. Trash flittered to and from as it was kicked under foot, bobbing in the turbulent air currents.

It might have been the Ladybug holder, but that didn't seem to match up with her outright hostility and seeming preference to just try and punch the daylights out of him. No, this was something else. Something far more sinister and much slier, and he hoped to resolve his business in New York so that he didn't drag the problem with him to Paris. He put up with the persistent tingle on his neck while he found somewhere to eat and let it follow him to the hotel while the dark curtain of night stole over the city, bright LED screens and neon lighting up along buildings with each passing minute, ads for Coca Cola and Ralph Lauren blasting the populace of the city.

Once in the hotel, no sooner had the door closed than Luka was quickly shucking off his hoodie and digging through the duffel bag at the end of the bed. Sass flew down to his eye level. "Are you ssure you will be alright?" he hissed out, eyes darting nervously to the door and back to Luka.

Luka smiled grimly as he changed into a dark button-up with light gray patterned swirls. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about this one. Feels different, doesn't it?" he said, roughly rolling the sleeves of his shirt to expose his forearms. Maybe he just felt like that because he had more to lose, or because he’d been in this exact situation before and had seen how it ended.

"It doesss."

They had been through this a few times before. Someone, somehow, would find out about the power of the bracelet—few of them knew exactly what power he had, just that he had it and they wanted it for themselves. Mostly he had gotten several offers to use the power for ill with all manner of promises of rewards that never seemed appealing. Or just threats to join them "or else". Regardless, he dealt with it, just like he'd deal with this now. Whoever it was behind this was acting too intelligently to just be some thug looking for a new minion--this was someone who knew exactly who he was and was smart enough to sit back and assess him. This was someone with time and resources to spare.

"Well, it's best we deal with it as soon as we can. I don't want the problem following us--especially if there are more Miraculouses in France that they would want to scoop up."

"That doesss sseem prudent." Sass acquiesced, floating to his holder's shoulder. The two appraised each other in the large bathroom mirror, their reflections regarding them back. Luka tweaked at his shirt collar and tucked Mullo's Miraculous in the shirt.

"I'll be honest, I think after…after the last time we tried to find…well, you know." Luka swallowed thickly as if that could push away the memories. "Neither of us came away from that very…" his brain searched for the right word. "Hopeful."

Sass's dark green pupils and green sclerae bored into Luka's reflection in the mirror. "You are right. Neither of usss has been the ssame ssince. I wissh to ssee you happy, Luka. I have not sseen you sso lighthearted in many yearsss..." Luka didn't need to ask what he was referencing. He could still feel the weight of Marinette’s hand in his. "You were not made for darknessss."

Luka fidgeted with the other bracelets around his wrist, feeling a slight burn when the friction tugged on his skin. It didn't do much good to imagine his life without Sass, probably because it would have ended quickly and unpleasantly; instead, he found himself thinking about what it would have been like to have been born later, during Marinette's time, growing up in France as just a normal teenage boy. He couldn't imagine what that looked like, either. Too different. Too odd. This was his life, and he was bound to it, and he was bound to deal with power-hungry egotists. Nothing could be done about it.

"We'll deal with this quickly, then. Figure out who's tailing us, keep watch over the boy, and cure Mullo. We'll head to Paris once we're done."

Sass nodded, perhaps a little regretfully at the weight of the mission on Luka's shoulders. Rather than hide on Luka's person the snake took to the bracelet, his body becoming one with the metal with nothing to show for it but a few green sparks. Luka turned from the bathroom mirror and left the meager hotel room, the ever-present eyes on him returning as soon as he stepped into the street.

The Pit wasn't too far away, just a few blocks north from the hotel, its blue and black exterior splashing across the street. A line of young adults streamed around the outside of the double doors like the flickering tongue of a snake. Wild dance music threatened to escape the front doors but left nothing except the bass of the beat, vibrating through his bones. Luka waited with the rest of them, arms crossed as he surveyed around for a minute, pretending to casually people watch.

After ruling out the Ladybug holder as the eyes on his back, he half suspected the culprit to be the man who’d given him his job tonight. If he was the one following him, Luka couldn’t spot him. Whoever it was, Luka wanted to shake them off--maybe not for good, but long enough to see if he could try to find who it was before he headed into a potential trap. There was no way to know if this job and the watched feeling were related, but even if they weren’t he would at least be offered a chance to try and see who was tailing him before carrying that trouble with him.

The bouncer waved him in when he finally reached the front, taking the $20 Luka gave him and shoving it through the door of a lockbox attached to the building. Luka weaved inside, immediately beset with loud pop and splashes of color in the dark. If they were intent on trapping him, they wouldn't risk losing him. They would follow him inside. Luka scanned the groups around the edge of the dancefloor, wisps of a plan coming together in his mind to get himself into the women’s bathroom, through the windows, and out of the club undetected.

Luka scanned the club from the second floor, eyes occasionally drawn back to the DJ on stage that had taken over for the live band, but more often falling to the swarm of people below. Attentiveness like this had become a habit, nearly a hobby. A swanky staccato beat began to take over the club, lights flashing blue and red, and young adults began stomping and gyrating to Soft Cell’s patented 80’s synthwave. A lanky boy in a ripped black tank top showing off the lean muscle in his arms walked in through the front. Messy brown hair nearly touched amber eyes that roved in a long and thin face, hollow cheekbones framing a dissatisfied frown.

The boy’s eyes caught something across the way and the frown wavered for a moment. He paused, the sure swagger he’d previously had slowed, and Luka unconsciously followed his eyesight to a man across the club. Something passed between them, although he couldn’t quite see what—and the boy suddenly spun on his heel, amber eyes doing quick frantic rounds until he caught Luka’s eye. He pushed through the crowd towards the stairs and took them two at a time.

To the left of the door was a group of rowdy, beefed-up college guys at a table, shouting over the music and jostling each other. Luka moved close enough to be in eyesight of the frat boy in the center, biceps the size of footballs and a tacky political t-shirt that made it fairly clear how he'd feel about his admittedly flimsy scheme. It should work, though, as directly across the dance floor on the other wall was the woman he hoped would be his willing savior.

Right as the man’s eyes slid over to Luka, Luka waved coquettishly with the tips of his fingers and winked. Thick brows turned down when he realized what had just happened, and Luka quickly turned and hightailed it to the highly attentive girl on the other side of the club--who had luckily only seen what he'd wanted her to. Boy walks in, gets a horrific and angry-looking glare from a guy 3 times his size, and then runs for his life.

Luka blinked in surprise at the urgency the boy was running toward him with, and he quickly turned his head to check on the man from across the club. He stood and began pushing his way through the crowd, eyes on the boy that was running towards him. So he was in trouble, then? The boy closed the few feet gap between them, throwing a hand on Luka’s shoulder, a wild smile on his face.

“In a spot of trouble, care to assist?” he asked without preamble, amber eyes flashing an unrestrained urgency.

Luka wasn’t in the habit of refusing anyone a helping hand. The man had paused at the foot of the stairs, an irate bull stopped by an invisible barrier. “Uh, yeah, I can help,” he said, suddenly feeling the weight of the bracelet on his wrist.

The boy regarded him with a tight but amused smile, then lightly slapped Luka’s cheek twice amicably. “Good. Nothin’ personal.”

Luka had just enough time to wonder if he thought the slaps had hurt before the boy’s lips smashed onto his, frantic and rough, pushing him back half a step. The boy broke it off first, turning his body to face the bull at the bottom of the stairs, flipping him an offensive backhanded peace sign. The man’s nostrils flared, and he began to force his way up the stairs—and the boy grabbed Luka’s arm with a wild laugh and began to drag him in a race across the second-story loft.

As he hoped, the girl's face was drawn into a concerned frown as she peeked around the exultant dancers in the center to watch the interaction. Her natural hair framed her face like a halo around smooth, deep brown skin, gold highlighter bouncing off her cheeks as she turned her head this way and that. A wary hand with long nails was draped over her the top of her drink. Luka caught her eye and she nodded, slightly, moving her drink to her left when he came up to her right.

"Baby, what kind of spell did you whip up on him?" she asked, deep purple lips barely moving as she watched the man he'd just royally pissed off.

"Toxic masculinity can really work a number on a guy," Luka said as he caught his breath.

She made a clucking sound with her tongue. "Uh-huh." The man in question was still staring daggers in Luka's direction, deciding if he should stomp over and demand an explanation for the unwanted advance.

"Any chance you know an escape route that's not directly through the front door?" He asked, leaning against the table and tapping his fingers nervously. "I'd use the windows in the men's room, but, ah, I believe that would be ill-advised." The man was handing his beer to one of his friends.

The woman gave him a long glance up and down before shaking her head and standing, several inches taller than him in her yellow stilettos. She downed her drink in one and set it on the table, readjusting her cardigan before taking his hand. Luka followed her through the throngs of young adults while the pop music transformed into a stuttering drumbeat with a keening electric guitar, a woman's voice moaning in pleasure before erupting into song. Hello again, friend of a friend, I knew you when our common goal was waiting for the world to end--

Luka looked behind him, pretending to check for the advancing bull. There was a blond woman watching him cross the club, finger running just beneath her lips, a couple whose eyes met his occasionally while they danced, a man at the bar in a clean white button-up… Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend, you crack the whip, shape-shift and trick the past again--

The woman guiding him pushed through a throng of girls outside the women's restroom and pulled him inside, ignoring the giggles and pointed glances. One girl sloppily applying mascara in the restroom yipped when she saw him before blushing and turning back to the mirror. His savior let go of his hand and stepped up on the bright pink upholstered armchair that was tucked in the corner, heel digging into the cushion while she shoved open the window.

Luka breathed a sigh of relief and offered her his hand to help her get back down, hopping up gracefully in her place. "You're a godsend." Luka shot a sheepish grin first at her and then the gaggle of girls that had just walked in.

"Gotta stick together, right?" She asked, watching him hoist himself up through the window.

They burst out the door to the second-story patio together, breathless and frantic. The boy grabbed his arm again, pulling him past groups of friends and a couple that was definitely doing more than having a make-out session. He was dragged over to the back and realized there was a fire escape ladder that led into the dark alley. The boy waggled his eyebrows at him, eyes aglitter with mischief, then spun around to slide down it. The door to the patio slammed open again, and that was all the prompting Luka needed to bolt down after him.

“What’d you do that for?” Luka asked when his feet hit the pavement, waving his hand slightly in a half approximation of the peace sign. In trying not to pant too hard from the chase his nose was overwhelmed with the heavy scent of trash and sex that permeated the alley. “And what did you do to him in the first place?”

The boy flashed him another wild grin, spinning around in the alleyway as he made his way towards the main street. “Thought it was funny. Ponce looked right pissed, didn’t he? As for the other thing,” he ran his tongue over the top row of his teeth lavishly. “Maybe I’ll teach you sometime.”

Luka knelt by the window for a moment, waving to the girls in the bathroom with a genuine smile on his face before taking off. Either his pursuer was a woman, or he'd hear shrieks of drunken outrage if a man burst into the women's restroom 'uninvited'. Luka tucked himself behind a dumpster, whispering the words that ignited his transformation. Whoever was tailing him would be looking for him now. Luka jumped halfway up the building and quickly scaled it, gloved fingertips working quickly to find holds. He swung his legs up the roof and spun around to silently sneak his way to the corner of the building where he could watch both the main street and the alleyway he'd escaped out of.

They had found him out quicker than he expected. A clean-cut man in a white button-up and slacks with roman features and perfectly coiffed hair darted out of the club and rounded the corner, looking up and down the alley. Luka watched the man clench and then unclench his jaw, pacing a short circuit in the alley before pulling a phone out of his pocket. After a few angry perfunctory taps, he brought the phone up to his ear.

"He knows," was all the man said. He continued his pacing and looked over his shoulder a few times while he listened to the person on the other end. "No--stay the course." A moment, and the man grit his teeth. "I'm aware." He hung up the phone, slid it back into his pocket, and stood still with his hands on his hips. Without warning, he spun around and kicked the dumpster. The dense metal clanged viciously in the alley, echoing off the walls with the man's heavy breathing. Luka took that as his cue to leave.

#in the shadows mlb #lukanette #alternate universe #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #adrien agreste #Nat's Monster In The Box #normally i use free stock images for the banners but uh #f it theyre actors #oc's continue to pop up like daisies #i cant help it the world is full of people

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transboysokka · 6 months

Text

I’ve lost control of my life it is now 2:30am

(Chris watches Twilight Eclipse for the first time)

Okay fuck it it’s 12:30 am let’s start the annoying love triangle one (I’m guessing)

All I know about anything for the rest of the franchise is bella and Edward will be married and she’ll become a vampire either before or after that and also they will have a creepy baby but I think all that happens in the last book so NO guesses for this movie

At least the budget and therefore quality seem to be getting bigger/better each time

Another cheesy quote from Bella to open us out aight

Like idk she’s a student and I feel like students shouldn’t gotta worry about this marriage shit? Not in high school

It should be illegal to get married before 25 when your brain finishes developing btw

They’re both gonna be so annoying aren’t they, her with wanting to turn and him with wanting to get married, just kill me now

Anyway are they gonna finally resolve that one crazy lady vampire issue from the first movie bc that was really such a tiny problem to drag our

So is it jacob or jake what does he prefer

The music is a little better (so far) at least

Oh fuck not Edward controlling Bella’s movements and friendships GET AWAY FROM HIM BELLA

I get that Charlie has beef w Edward like girl same but also I feel bad for Edward lol

Mom sees that Edward is creepy too

Bella’s lying out in the sun but still just as pale okay

So jealous of T-shirt quilts

Dramatic ass vampire family nothing ever changes

Just get rid of this red hair chick so we can move onto the Vampiric Council villain plot

Teamwork!

More annoyed about Edward wanting to save Bella’s soul now that I know it’s Mormon propaganda tbhhhh

The thing w the Jacob v Edward drama that I never understood all those years ago is that they’re BOTH bad people!!

I still say they’d make a killer polycule

But I do love the “Edward is my boyfriend, Jacob is my best friend, and they’re jealous of each other”

Loving the lady werewolf

But how many are there now it seems like Too Much

Oh imprinting got it cool

WAIT I SWEAR I saw somewhere that Jacob ends up imprinting on Bella and Edwards daughter?????

Anyway at least lautner is kinda losing the accent at this point. Makes him less annoying

Unresolved Victoria plot, unresolved volturi plot, and now someone new???

Cross-species teamwork to help protect Bella how cute

Loving the historical flashbacks actually, I’d love a movie on the lore

WAIT FUCK jasper is SOKKA in that awful shyamalan avatar movie I’m sndkldjdsjkslskshdhdjdkd

JACOB why would you kiss her she just said she doesn’t love you I hate every man in this franchise

Clueless Charlie is pretty great

Rosalie has been nothing but spout straight up facts this entire franchise so far

Wow what a terribly tragic backstory though damn

So amused that they keep talking about defeating newborns lolol

Why would jasper know more about them than anyone else? They’ve all been newborns at some point? Is it bc he’s the most recently turned?

Oh good, explanation

Oh NOW he has an accent? lmao

Since when does he control emotions, have we seen that yet??

Ugh Jacob just DROP IT

Hahaha the father-daughter talks are so good

Listening to Debussy in preparation for seeing depussy nice

Oh DAMN he cockblocked himself. The damn Mormon influence again

It DOES make sense with the era he’s from etc etc

I just know the fangirlies were going crazy in the theatre w this whole sequence

oh NOW she says yes okayyyy

Okay seriously why is Jacob allergic to shirts

Cuddle for warmth. Classic fanfic trope oh all THREE of them should cuddle

“I am hotter than you” wow the fan girls are losing their minds

Anyway like we all know I stan rpats but he IS a goofy looking guy and I am constantly surprised he got cast for this role

Jacob doesn’t know how not to be a creep Jesus

Nice convo Jacob and Edward now kiss

But anyway that was actually super boring

Are they not even gonna SHOW the battle lmao

This movie feels super long am I wrong?

This fake ass snow

He’s literally making her say she loves him grossssss

What is any of this for like she’s less than 30 minutes of screen time away from marrying Edward right?? What was the ENTIRE point of that Jacob kiss

I actually do like how chill Edward was about it though lol

That is NOT Bryce Dallas Howard why doesn’t it look like her

What’s with the metallic clanking sounds when they die

This would be a great time for bella to get hurt and have to be turned, just saying

Oh DAMN did Bella use the trick from the werewolf story nice

Lol I had no idea vampires were so flammable

No idea what just happened to Jacob tbh like he doesn’t LOOK hurt

Why did they have to kill the girl jesus

The second movie was a gay allegory but this one is a trans allegory for sure

ok so yeah that’s another one done I guess lol

#text #twilight liveblog

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moemoemammon · 3 years

Note

yay! requests are open! y'know that thing where the s/o being so weak for their partner? I wanted to request the demon bros being weak for their s/o? does that make sense?

like, for example, MC would pout a little, and say 'pwease 🥺' and the demon bros would be like, 'yes, go on, what do you want from me? would you like my-' they'd just be so weak for mc.

I hope that makes sense! also, if it's too much characters, you can just do mammon and satan :) thank you ;3

Their One Weakness: MC!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

Lucifer is known as the cruel eldest of the brothers. A sadist whose word is law, whose will can only be bent by Lord Diavolo himself. And yet since you came to the Devildom, all you ever seemed to do was the opposite of what he asked. Yet he still came to love you. He wonders if he spoils you too much...

Especially when you always seem to get your way one way or another. When you proposed the chaotic idea of a massive get together between the House of Lamentation and Purgatory Hall, Lucifer immediately said no. It’d be way too noisy and he had things to do.

But THEN... You fixed him with those damn EYES of yours.... The big eyes filled with sparkles and hopes that pleaded to him.... stop staring at him with them big ol eyes-

Lucifer REFUSES to acknowledge how cute you are when you look at him like that. Well, verbally anyway. You look like a kicked puppy...and he loves puppies...

"............I suppose if we prepare right now and get a dinner menu ready, it could be possible. And if you pout any harder you might pull a muscle, and I doubt I could explain that to Lord Diavolo. Now, go tell the others what you have planned."

Mammon

Mammon is practically the biggest MC simp in the world. You always occupy his thoughts any time of the day. 'Oh, MC would probably like one of these'. 'MC's always eatin' this for lunch. I'll grab one.' 'This would be way less borin' if MC were around...'

But as the Tsundere 🤢 king of the Devildom, there's no way he'll admit to any of that! So what if he's head over heels for you?! That doesn't mean he's gonna be all weak in the knees the moment you-

Wait, you're saying that because he lost a bet yesterday and promised he'd take you out to Ristorante Six and pay for the whole thing, now he's gotta pay up?!?! No way! He doesn't remember what you're talking about, and that voice recording you've got on your phone is clearly fake!

Mammon's dead set on weaseling out of his promise, until you freeze him in place with your pouty face... then you hit him with a "please..?" and the Avatar of Greed swears he might die right then and there.

"Tch..! Damn it, I ain't got a choice when ya look at me like that!!! What're ya playin' at, pulling' my heartstrings like that?! Hurry up and get dressed so we can go! A-and ya better eat your fill, too!"

Levi

The founder of the top secret MC Cult Fanclub, there's not much that could keep Levi from becoming putty in your hands. He's used to idolizing the objects of his affection, and you're no exception!

So when it comes to bending to your will, he's definitely the easiest. Except when it comes to n-...normie stuff...

Seriously, do you think someone like HIM should be going to The Fall?!?! No way! Not in a million, billion, trillion years!!!! You shouldn't get him to go to that crowded club even if you dragged him there!!!

Then... you hit him with the cute act... You declare your loyalty to him as his beloved Henry, fixing him with a pleading look that shoots him straight through the heart, and... GAH, HE'S GOT NO CHOICE!!!!!

"At... at least help me choose something to wear..! I don't know how I'm supposed to dress for normie stuff like this!!! Aaah... I wanna stay home, b-but when you say something like that, I just can't win-!"

Satan

Satan openly admits to how he likes to spoil you. It's cute seeing how big your grin becomes when he gives you something you wanted, and how happy you are when he takes you out for the evening.

But there are some things even he doesn't want to do, like when you suggest going to a chess tournament with Lucifer. You've been pressured by Lucifer wanting to attend, but figured it'd be easier to sit through with someone else. So why not Satan, who'd mentioned liking chess?

Yeah... he'd go if Lucifer weren't involved. As much as he'd love to go and pull some strings to ruin the match for the dear eldest, he's got something else planned involving a well timed glue bomb and Lucifer's study. So he'll pass.

Or so he thought, until you started poking your fingers together and mentioned how you'd hoped you could both enjoy it together. Kind of like a date..? Gah, his heart and its weakness for unconventional dates-!!!!

"...I... suppose I could go. It’d be nice to study how Lucifer plays, so I can finally beat him. Don't you think the look on his face will be priceless? And if you're there as well, I'll be able to stomach watching his face for an hour."

Asmo

Asmo LOVES you more than aaanyone!! There's no one who loves you more, you know? Why, he wants to involve you in every aspect of his life, and actively tries to do just that! He's even tried dragging you into the tub with him a few times...

And when it comes to spoiling you, he loves it! He's always the one being spoiled, so it makes him giddy when he can give a little back. If there's anything you want from him, just tell him and he'll make it happen!

Eh? You want to play fangol? With HIM?? Um... pass. You know he just got his nails done, right? Asmo's not really a fan of running around with a ball and getting knocked to the ground, so... no thanks! ❤️

Wait, don't make that face! What're you looking so glum for?? He'll kiss your sadness away, and- Eh?! You don't want a kiss?? You really wanna play THAT badly?????

"....You really don't have me mistaken for Beel, right..? You really want to play with ME? ...Haaaah, fine! I'll play one game with you, and in exchange, you have to spend all of tomorrow with moi! Sounds good, right~? Now let me see if Satan will let me borrow some of his clothes...urgh..."

Beel

As a 'go with the flow' guy, there's not much Beel won't do with you, even if it's not really something he's interested in. As long as he has you around and a surplus of snacks, he's fine with anything.

Until you suggest going to Majolish to try on some stylish outfits. You mention how Beel wears variations of the same thing all the time, so it's time for an update! He thinks you're spending too much time with Asmo...

Beel isn't really into tight, itchy, stiff fabrics like the 'stylish' things they sell at Majolish, and decides he'd much rather go to Hell's Kitchen instead. He's hungry. Are you hungry?

'Stop changing the subject'? Ah.. damn it 😔 Wait, now you're saying you just wanted to buy fancy outfits because you were planning to take him to Ristorante Six?! You can't tell if he's blushing over your consideration or the idea of food, but now Beel's looking through the clothes with earnest.

"I didn't know you were the winner of that 'all you can eat' coupon lottery. When I didn't win I was pretty upset, but I'm glad to know it was you. Even if these clothes are weird, I'll wear them. Can you pick something good for me?"

Belphie

Belphie likes to spoil you in more subtle ways, instead of simping as hard as his brothers. He's still as much of a sucker for you as they are though, much to his dismay. All you have to do is smile and you've got him wrapped around your gross human finger.

But when you mention wanting to go biking with Lord Diavolo and wanting him to come along, Belphie suddenly discovers that his ears don't work anymore. Anyway, goodnight-

Hey, stop poking him like that. Can't you see an deaf man is trying to sleep here?? And what's with that face..? You're pouting so hard you look like you're going to explode. It's cute, but Belphie can close his eyes an not see it.

But then you scoot into bed with him and hold him from behind, and the sleepy demon starts feeling his resolve crumble. You have some dirty tactics, huh..? Getting all cozy with him just because he's got a soft spot for you...

"...............Why Diavolo of all people..? I'd prefer anyone over him. Ugh... Hey, they still rent out those two person bikes, don't they? I'll only go if I can ride on that with you. I'll sit right behind you and cheer you on, okay? ..What's with that look? I'm joking...maybe."

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saturnscribe · 3 years

Text

But First, Dessert

Harvey x Reader; established relationship. 18+ minors DNI

A/N: This is an ao3 mirror. I won’t be linking it, I’d like to keep the two accounts separate. I don’t have any warnings, I had just meant to write a fluffy drabble where SDV Harvey... has dessert before dinner.

The doctors’ usual steady fingers trembled slightly as they played over the fabric of your underwear. He’d seemed so confident up until now, surprisingly so. The way he pushed you into the room with a searing kiss, how he tore at your blouse, nearly popping a button off it. Harvey’s mouth was hot as it trailed down your chest, leaving the occasional mark you wish he’d make darker. His hands were hungry as they slid into your bra, down your sides. He was quick to pull your pants off, thrown into some corner of the room. But now, with you clad in your panties, he seemed unsure.

“What’s wrong,” you push yourself off the bed, weight resting on your elbows. Your question seems to snap him out of his thoughts, and Harvey looks up with a heated stare.

“Nothing,” he licks his lips and hooks his thumbs into the cotton material of your underwear. The shake in his hands slowly ebb. You shift your weight to help him work the last bit of fabric off your hips and down your legs. As it reaches past your knees’ he tears it off and throws it behind his shoulder, lost to the rest of the room. Not losing momentum, Harvey hooks his hands behind your knees, pulls them apart and pushes them up, up, up to where it’s parallel with your head. There’s little to no strain, you’ve always taken pride in your flexibility. But this was new.

Without thinking, you clasp your knees together. You’ve never been so exposed, and it comes as a shock. For once, you feel heat bloom in your face and work its way down your chest.

“H-Harvey!” A hand darts to cover your sex. You’re not sure what’s gotten into him. You trust him, but you’re confused and exposed. Confusion and anxiety swim between your ribs, but you make no move to break his hold. While Harvey’s grip is firm, you know he’d let you escape if you wanted. There seems to be a moment where he expects you to push him away, but after a beat the doctor smiles at you and moves to press a kiss into your thigh.

Your hips buck and thighs press tightly together. The spot is sensitive, just under your knee. Some unknown feeling swirls in your chest. It’s a mix of too many things and you can’t put a word to it until Harvey presses his lips onto your skin again. It’s lower this time, and your breath hitches in your throat. You look down at him, and you nearly jump as he meets your gaze. 0 You fist the blankets beneath you as you suck in another breath between your teeth.

The doctor frees a hand, and you keep your leg in held place. He moves to take his glasses off, but stops to take you in. There’s a sheen of sweat over your exposed skin. Your hand still covers yourself, but the way you hold yourself open, just as he left you, does something to him. There’s a hard look in his eyes you’ve never seen before and you feel yourself twitch. It’s definitely something you’ll have to explore at a later date. This whole thing was something new to explore. Harvey has come at you with an energy like this before, lustful in a way you wouldn’t have expected. But this was different; there seemed to be something new sparking between you.

“Thank you,” he hums, returning to you without his glasses. His hand returns to the soft patch below your knee. Harvey thumb rubs a small circle into your knee in a show of appreciation, followed by a nip into the underside of your thigh, taking note of the way you twitch beneath him. He presses a gentle kiss to the same spot, and begins to work his way down with another, and another. Harvey revels in the way you shake and gasp in his hold and eagerly skips few inches down your open thighs to press a final kiss to your knuckles. It wasn’t hard to guess where he was working towards, but the gravity of it still knocks the breath out of your lungs. He doesn’t ask permission with his words, but the slow and gentle kisses he presses to your knuckles is question enough. Your fingers twitch with a moments’ hesitation before falling away.

He sighs hard in relief, eyes dropping from yours to the wet heat between your legs. Harvey takes a moment, almost admiring. The intensity of his stare eats at you. You were never comfortable enough to really explore yourself past your fingers and the occasional toy, and you wished he’d move a bit faster. It was uncomfortable having him watch you so closely, but before you could show your discomfort, Harvey leans in. His tongue is thick and wet, the heat of his mouth searing. He licks you from your entrance to your clit, a groan falling between you as he passes the exposed nub. Harvey moves closer, throwing your legs over his shoulders in a fluid motion. His free hand holds your hips tight, feeling and trying to restrain the buck of your hips at the action. You pant hard, squirming in his grip. He repeats the action slow and purposeful, trying to read your reactions.

It’s hard to think as he laps at you, taking note of every hitched breath and moan. Harvey always watched you carefully and worked hard to make you happy, but in this moment, it was paying off in ways you could have never imagined. The way he pressed you into the bed was maddening, you wanted to move into him, to get more friction, to guide his mouth to where you needed him the most. But he took his time with you, perhaps reveled in the fact he was solely in charge of your desire. His tongue works in circles and slow drags, enjoying the way your legs tense around him.

Your moan echoes through the cabin when he sucks at your exposed clit. Over the last few minutes, all you received were teasing passes, along or against the nub, or the faintest pressure against your opening. All teases, until now, where he feasts like a starved man. Your hands fly into his hair, finally giving into your desire and tugging him closer. A growl forces itself between your sex and up the expanse of you, a desperate moan meeting the sound in return. Harveys' tongue works you in broken rhythm, but his eagerness makes up for any inexperience. You throb, and clench around nothing, before giving his hair an experimental tug. Another sound pours from him, and he presses your hips further into the bed.

Your head knocks back with a loud whine, head pressing further into the mattress as he moves from your sensitive clit to press his tongue against your entrance. He pries you open slowly, moving in a rhythm meant to tear you apart. You had expected him to move as quickly as he had done before, but Harvey takes his time with the push and pull of his tongue and lips, working you open wet and sloppy.

Your fingers curl tightly into his hair as you begin to break. It was a wonder how you managed to last this long, never having someone’s mouth on you before. He was a bit clumsy, but he more than made up for it. Harvey was eager and paid close attention to you for so long, and it felt so good, but this was something else entirely. He fucks you on his tongue, spurred on by the way you squirm against him. Your fingers tug on auburn strands as pleasure twists in your gut. You need more and you don’t know how to ask for it. You’re not even sure if you can ask for it. His actions pull you apart, and your thoughts are hazy. He’s doing so much for you and you’re not sure you should ask. You didn’t want him to think what he was doing wasn’t enough, and there was no way you could really express yourself in this state.

He moans into you again, slowly pulling out of your heat. His tongue finds itself on your clit again, body convulsing with sensitivity.

“Please,” you whine, the sound thick and desperate. You fix yourself on the word and repeat it again and again, begging without real direction.

Harvey moves a hand from your hip and glides it down across your thigh. Your stomach flips as he pets the inside of your thigh. You’re suddenly aware of how damp the space is between your upper thighs is, and you move to cover your face out of embarrassment. Your boyfriend allows the action with a dark chuckle and moves his hand slowly between your legs.

“You’re so wet,” he purrs, fingers teasing your folds. “All this for me? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You make the most beautiful sounds. I can tell you’re loving it.” He nips the inside of your thigh, and you cry out again. You’re hips shake, but you press yourself closer to his face now that you have the room to do so.

“Patient, love.” Deft fingers dig into your hips and a shaky breath leaves you. There’s a lot to explore outside of tonight, you decide.

Kisses are pressed into the soft skin of your thigh, and he works up to the place you need him most. Harvey’s fingers begin to part your lips. He works slowly, taking time in building the moment up.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispers between your legs, fingers finally sliding in. There’s a slight burn in the stretch of his two fingers, but you’re more than ready for them. Your moan breaks off as the heat of his mouth returns to you. He’s true to his word, as he gives you exactly what you were asking for. The push of his fingers is almost enough to get you off, but you do your best to keep together. The doctor had quite a way with you, and you knew there would be a reward for waiting.

He doesn’t make you wait long. Harvey’s mouth continues, spurred on by the way you cry and thrash about, all because of his mouth and fingers. The hand at your waist no longer holds you down but wraps around the fingers of your free hand. The other lays in his hair, pushing his head to wherever you need him most. He lets you guide him as he moves his fingers, looking for that sweet spot against your inner wall. He knows he’s found it when you sob, clenching tightly around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” You cry as his fingers work purposefully against the spot deep inside you. Your resolve crumbles quickly, and you rock in tandem with his ministrations. This is what you’ve needed. He knew how to find that spot with ease. It might come from his profession, or previous partners but that didn’t matter. The only thing that did was his precision, eagerness, and ability to absolutely drive you wild when he found that spot.

Sounds pour from you unrestrained. Each thrust of his finger, every curl of his tongue, brings you closer to the edge. Your body strings tight, legs tensing at Harvey’s shoulders, your hand gripping tightly at his hair. Your voice pitches higher, hips pressing firmer into him. He notices the signs and doubles in his efforts. Fingers moving rough into you, mimicking the pace he’d set if he was fucking you properly.

It doesn’t take long after that for your orgasm to rush over you. It hits harder than you expect, your body arching sharply off the bed with a broken cry. You’re faintly aware of Harvey holding you tight with both hands, pressing your hips flushed against him as he works you through your orgasm. His tongue continues, hungry to milk you of your release. A second wave washes over you, a sob escaping your parted lips. You tremble against him, the only thing keeping you upright is his hold. Half your body is slumped into the damp mattress, your grip still tight in his hair. It takes a moment, but with your free hand you manage to pat his forearm in a silent request for no more.

Harvey pulls off you with a gasp, the sound lost in your breathless pants. You continue to tremble, sensitive in all the best ways and still halfway on some other plane. He takes notice and can’t hold back a smile, knowing he was able to bring you to this point. The man slides up your body, presses a wet kiss to your cheek and pulls you into a gentle embrace. He then pushes the hair out of your face and peppers kisses to the newly exposed skin, wanting to shower you in affection.

“Are you doing alright?” He asks softly, hands roaming your body. Harvey always made sure to stay by you until you calmed, post orgasm. He’d clean you if the opportunity arose. Made sure you were hydrated and loved. It was another thing about him that made you feel so lucky, this night aside. You nod in assurance, words still escaping you.

He pets and kisses you as you slowly come down. In the beginning, you had assured him all the attention wasn’t necessary, but you’ve grown to appreciate it. It was a welcome routine. When Harvey was sure you were with him, he offers you a slow kiss, and leaves the shared space of your bed. He wasn’t gone long and returns with a glass of water. He offers to help you sit upright, but you turn it down. You lift yourself upright with wobbling arms, your strength having left with the force of your orgasm. Harvey stands in front you as you drink your water, and when you sit it down, he’s on you again.

During your kiss, you feel a heavy weight against your thigh, and you know there’s business left unfinished. But when your fingers brush against the side of his length, Harvey chuckles and pulls his hips away.

“Not now, love. I wanted to take care of you. Don’t mind it, it has a mind of its own.”

You whine into the kiss, finding it unfair. Taking care of him wasn’t a chore, and Harvey knew it. He knew how much you loved to drop to your knees and service him. Loved the weight of him on your tongue, the feel of him pushing into the tight channel of your throat. The thought of it alone was getting you excited.

“Are you sure?” You ask, fingers brushing along the outside of his thigh.

“Yes.” His laugh is hearty, and it fills you. You love him so much, every little thing about him. His giving nature, how unselfish and loyal he was. You loved each shared cup of coffee, intimate look, and hold. It might be early, but you had plans to visit a certain merchant the next rainy season.

“Now that we’ve had dessert, let me get started on dinner for you.” Harvey kisses you deeply, taking your breath away.

#sdv x reader #stardew valley #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x reader smut #stardew valley x reader #ao3 mirror #i want to keep the two accounts separated #sdv x y/n #stardew valley x y/n #harvey x y/n #sdv harvey x y/n #sdv smut #stardew valley smut #these tags... im blushing #saturnscribes

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littlefreya · 3 years

Text

As I was saying

Summary: You recently found out that you’re pregnant and Henry is being all sorts of over-protective and annoying about it and won’t shut up about what you should or shouldn’t eat. So you find a creative way to shut him up...

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (no description of body type or ethnicity thought it’s mention that Henry is taller)

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: 18+, RPF, fluff to smut, early pregnancy, blow job, bodily fluids, slight FemDom/SubMale, My overuse of poetic sex metaphors, cottagecore!

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or parts from it.

A/N: This story was born out of a convo I had with my sweet @the-soot-sprite about the photo above. Many thanks to @agniavateira my solid rock who betas all my work and to @firefly-graphics for the dividers

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed my story. I work hard on each one of them and your validation means the world to me. 🖤

As I was Saying

Henry’s velvety voice carried through the cottage like seductive vapours of honey liqueur. It wasn’t often that he'd sing a blissful tune so casually out of the blue—after earth-shattering sex perhaps, which indeed you had the night before. However, this morning, his chants were laced with a new flavour of sugary bliss.

Two little pink stripes. That's all it took for his eyes to shimmer the way precious cobalt is kissed by a moonlight glow.

Sneaking about in the mien of a curious little mouse, you trod after the pleasant tune of his voice, which was now accompanied by a soft rustle. Wander laved your face once you leaned against the kitchen door frame, peering at the prodigious man who stood in front of the open fridge.

Preoccupied, he appeared to be ransacking through the shelves with the song ‘Cheek to Cheek’ thrumming on his tongue.

“Heaven... I'm in heaven…”

Fingers clutching at the edge of the wall, you pressed into the chilled surface with a relaxed smirk, lingering on the irresistible view when your ease of mind faded with a blink of an eye — while methodically rummaging through the fridge, Henry threw fresh food straight into an open trash can.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice rising to a high-pitched yip.

Henry made a soft flex; the muscles of his back rippled in a tidal motion. Though acknowledging your presence, he proceeded to hover a finger over different products.

“Cleaning up the fridge," he answered absentmindedly.

With a soft shove, there went your French cheese.

“That’s brand new!” you protested and rushed toward him, alarmed.

Towering over the trash can, you considered diving in to salvage the precious bulk of cheese from the dreary pit. Henry glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, testing your resolve while his claw grabbed some papaya salad leftovers and pushed it over the edge of the shelf, joining the rest of the discarded meals.

“It is,” he nodded and closed the refrigerator door, carrying on to the high cabinets. With a slight wrinkle between his brows and a hand scratching the stubbles of his dimpled chin, he narrowed his eyes to scrutinise the items carefully. “I'm pregnant-proofing the kitchen. I called Hanna while you were asleep. She created a proper daily menu for you with the dos and don’ts: less sugar, more veggies and protein.”

It took you a moment to process his words, your eyes narrowing while asking, “Hanna? As in Hanna, your nutritionist?”

Henry nodded at your question, a faint crease lining his cheek. “That’s the one. Don't worry, princess, she specialises with pregnant women.”

Unwittingly, a somewhat inhuman growl sounded in your chest. You were only getting used to the idea of developing another person inside you, and here stood your husband, already seeing fit to dictate your diet. Slithering into the narrow space between the heavy man and the counter, you tilted your chin to meet his stare while your fists pressed into your hips assertively.

“Listen here, Cavill! You might have jizzed me one too many and succeeded in putting a baby in there, but this is still my body. I can take care of my own pregnancy diet.”

With an arm stretched above your head, Henry offered a charming display of pearly whites to pacify your strained nerves. His dimples nearly managed to beguile your senses when your eyes flared at the sight of what was held between his long fingers.

“No! Henry, no! Not the coffee!”

“Oh, I’m afraid so, my love. You shouldn’t have any caffeine at your current state.” Despite his argument, the tenderness of his gaze stroked upon your face like a warm ray of sunlight piercing through heavy clouds. Lazily it dropped to your belly, the cascading heat cradling your unborn child.

Words of protest left you for a sliver of a moment, too in awe of the dreamy grin on his face.

Thoughts of how beautiful you’d look rounded and full with his child illuminated him that you swore his skin developed a glow over the night. Didn’t they always say women are radiant when they are pregnant? Well, it seemed that in your case, it applied to your husband as well.

The charming haze of bliss almost swallowed you up; but you quickly slapped yourself back into reality, reaching a hand in an attempt to stop Henry from throwing away your delicacy. Though taller, Henry held his hand far out of reach, a hint of a smugness stretching his lips.

“A pregnant woman is allowed to have a little bit of caffeine!” You muttered and sent both hands in an attempt to retrieve the box while Henry teased you by throwing it from one hand to the other, further fueling your annoyance.

Vexed to the point of frustration, you stood still and sighed, “you know what else is bad for the baby?”

Henry paused his foolish games and tilted his head as he waited to hear your answer.

“His father at the morgue after I’ll kill him. Now stop that and hand it over! A pregnant woman can have a cup a day, according to Google.”

“Nope,” Henry clicked his tongue, his laughter replaced with a severe stare. “Love, I know they say it’s okay to have a teeny bit, but I’ve been doing some research while you were asleep, and it’s not recommended. Caffeine increases heart rate and blood pressure, which is not good for you nor for the baby. It also increases urination, which may cause dehydration.”

Clenching your jaw at the onslaught of information he bestowed, you watched his lips move while none of his words registered. Preoccupied with the rules of a “healthy” pregnancy, Henry was set on being the practical one, completely forgetting to enjoy the moment. And damn, it was the moment to celebrate. All you wanted right now was to stay in bed for a day, ride your handsome husband to hell and back and eat as much ice cream as possible.

“Everything you eat from now on goes to our baby,” Henry proceeded to lecture on a thing you were perfectly aware of.

Ire found you within seconds, embroiled with pregnancy hormones which made him further intolerable at the moment— intolerable

... and delicious.

Soaked with hunger, your eyes raked his sight: the thickness of his muscles was apparent beneath a plain black t-shirt and those good old grey sweats outlined the source of your current predicament. Your fingers twitched just from thinking about it, mimicking the sensation of squeezing its girth and eliciting those low groans that made your heart flutter.

But his chatter still interrupted your sultry thoughts. If only there was a way to get him to shut up, you mused. Then your eyes focused on the soft bulge that winked back at your hungry glare.

Unaware, Henry turned toward the table to grab a bulk of informative documents he printed earlier in order to educate you of your pregnancy, he licked his thumb and began to read through, “As I was saying….”

Hastily, you exploited his lack of attention and took a step forward, your fingers latching around the hem of his sweats. With one swift movement, you fell to your knees and tugged his trousers along.

Lost in his passionate speech, Henry was still muttering nonsense when your hand seized him; but as the lushness of your tongue bedded his soft cock without warning, all that could be heard in the kitchen was a husky gasp.

Feeling the warm silky flesh swell and harden within your mouth, you sent your eyes up to peer at him, admiring the sight. Nothing spoke of your power better than the wrinkle between his shut eyes and his mouth agape with all air draining from his lungs. There you were, lowered to your knees with a maw full of his cock and yet, he was the one who lost his ability to speak and had his legs quaking of need.

Unable to help yourself, you sent one palm to feel the tremor that ran through the muscles of his thighs while the other cradled his heavy sac.

“Uh……” he finally managed to utter, a groan of bemused bliss pushing itself between his parted lips. “What… what are you doing?”

You crooked an eyebrow in response and answered by dragging your mouth along the length of his shaft. Your pillowy lips ran across ridges and thrumming veins, your jaw loosening until you felt him deep in the back of your throat.

Locked in the cavernous cage of your maw, he tightened his gut and shuddered with pleasure. Though, the low unbridled groans that sputtered from his chest fueled your enticement just as so; memories of how the same thick girth that brimmed your mouth would split open your narrow canal made both your eyes and abandoned cunt tear of desperation.

It always beguiled you how much arousal could be found in bringing him to his rapture without touching yourself. The harder he throbbed on your velvety serpent, the more you soaked.

With fervent strokes, you feasted on the briny flavour of his cock; the tendons vibrated with bliss while your tongue twirled and pushed around them. You pulled, sucked, and pumped him in your warm mouth, milking the senses of a man infinitely stronger—a man who succeeded in conquering your womb yet now crumbled to nothing at the touch of your tongue.

“Fuck…. Babe… keep going,” Henry breathed out a plea. The documents held by his hand slipped between his fingers as he pressed his palm to the cabinet with a thud, and began to rock his hips back and forth to fuck back into your mouth. Like feathers, the white slips floated around you, landing onto the ground while you worked him to his ecstasy.

His other hand found your head, caressing lovingly and trying to take control: yet his strength waned and his head fell back with a moan. Faster, harder, you sucked your husband to the point of submission while hums of admiration laced around his rigid length. Your eyes beamed as you watched his resolve shatter. Your fingertips toyed with the coarse hair at the apex of his thighs, your thumb seeking the tendon at the base of his cock and pressing into it, urging him to spill his gift down your throat.

“I’m going to… I’m going to…. In your throat… fuck.”

With a guttural grunt, he thickened against your tongue; the overflow of salty-sweet cream glazed your mouth and then flowed down your flaring throat.

The room thrummed with the buzz of the refrigerator, Henry’s heavy exhales - these were the sounds of your triumph. Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you cracked a smile and neatly pulled his trousers back on before you rose to stand straight.

Overwhelmed and drenched in sweat, your husband scrutinised you while you reached for the box of capsules and tilted your head.

“You were saying?”

#henry cavill rpf #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfiction

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earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

i hate you.

| 1940s!bucky x reader | fluff | smut |

requested. greaser!bucky au. enemies(?) to lovers. @fitzfiles and i are shamelessly indulgent

bucky made up his mind, he was going to win you over.

Bucky Barnes was the asshole across the street with the stupid loud motorcycle and white tees and leather jackets. You hated him.

“Hey, doll.”

You heard it every day when you came walking home from school, books in hand. And every day, it irritated you. You would scowl at Bucky, and he would flash his stupid smirk and wink at you.

You’d see him shirtless at night, smoking out on his porch. Once, he caught you staring out the window, and he’d teased you about it the next day on your way off to school.

“Checking me out last night, doll?”

“Don’t call me that. It’s Y/N. And no I wasn’t checking you out. I was watching you die slowly of lung cancer,” you snarked, making him throw his head back with laughter.

“If smoking doesn’t kill you, I will,” you muttered before going inside of your house.

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES!” You screamed, throwing your front door open. You were wrapped in a blanket over your thin pajamas, and you were infuriated.

“What?” He called with a stupid amused look on his face.

“It’s five in the fucking morning! Stop revving the engine on your motorcycle! You’re waking up the whole neighbourhood!”

“You’re the one screaming.”

“I hate you,” you seethed.

Without breaking eye contact, he revved the engine again. You were so irritated you could cry, and you resolved yourself to go back inside, refusing to let Bucky get the satisfaction of seeing your reaction to his antagonizing.

This had gone on for months. You were able to ignore him most of the time, but he was persistent. Your friends joked that he was in love with you, but you couldn’t imagine it. Bucky was delighted to get you worked up, and he was proud of himself for it.

“You’ve all lost your bloody minds,” you assured your friends, dragging them inside as Bucky whistled at you from across the street.

“He’s just my annoying neighbor.”

Bucky seemed to be always washing his yellow car in his driveway. You’d come home and see him shirtless, in low-rise jeans that showed off v-lines, bent over the hood of his soapy car. If it wasn’t the car, it was his motorcycle. He always winked at you or blew you a kiss, making you shake your head or roll your eyes.

You hated to see him washing his car, because it made it that much more difficult to deny how incredibly gorgeous he was.

Bucky delighted in getting you worked up. He loved to see your cheeks flush pink and the way your nose scrunched up at his banter. He had a crush on you, ever since he moved in, and he always loved your attention, even if he got it by antagonizing you.

Bucky did intend to get in your good favor, but you had made up your mind that you didn’t like him. Bucky was determined, and loved a challenge.

Bucky decided his opportunity to win you over was when it was pouring down rain. The morning had started out sunny when you’d walked to school, but the weather had turned rapidly mid-morning.

He got in his yellow car, and drove to the college in town, parking outside and going into the lobby with an umbrella. He leaned against a railing, waiting for you to get out of your class, to give you a lift and keep you from getting soaked and ruining your books.

As soon as it started to rain, you’d fretted about getting home. You didn’t have any friends that drove, and you had been debating whether to wait out the rain or just brave it and get wet.

You definitely didn’t expect to see your neighbour leaning against the railing in the front lobby.

“Hey, doll.” He grinned, standing when you approached him. He had ignored the stares of the other girls, everything else disappearing when he saw you.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” you sighed, blushing at the stares you got, everyone hearing his term of endearment for you.

“I brought my car, I didn’t want you to ruin your books and get wet by walking home in the rain,” he answered honestly, surprising you.

“You drove here to pick me up?”

Bucky nodded, and you fought off a small smile. You didn’t like him, and you were annoyed, but the gesture was thoughtful, and much appreciated. You rationalized the soft feelings by claiming it was basic decency, and it was necessary that you had to take him up on his offer.

“Okay.”

You took his arm and he opened his umbrella, keeping you dry as he helped you into the passenger seat of his yellow car. You set your books on the dash, leaning back against the leather seat. As he drove, the radio played smooth jazz, surprising you a bit, as Bucky didn’t seem like the jazz type.

“Bucky, you’ve missed the turn.” You said, and he only smiled, biting the inside of his cheek. Your heart rate increased as he drove into the city and you whipped your head to look at him.

“Where are you taking me? I thought you were taking me home!”

“I am taking you home, eventually,” Bucky grinned, and you could’ve screamed.

“You can’t just abduct me! Where are we going?! I will throw myself from your moving car!” You snapped, panicking.

“I’m not abducting you! I’m taking you to have some fun, because all you do is study and it’s made you wound tight!”

“You’re kidding me. I’ve got to write a paper!” You cried, and Bucky just laughed, shaking his head.

“Just relax, Y/N.”

You gave him a scathing look, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Most say charming.”

You followed Bucky into a roller rink, rolling your eyes but secretly excited about rollerskating. You slipped your feet into white skates, thankful today you had chosen to wear pants.

You stepped onto the rink with Bucky right behind you. It had been a while since you skated, and you were a bit unsteady on your feet. You pushed forward, putting your arms out for balance as you tried to get used to the feeling of the wheels under your feet.

“Careful!” Bucky exclaimed when you nearly fell, catching your waist to steady you. You gasped, your hands going to his arms for balance. A blush spread across your cheeks, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the gentle, caring way he touched you.

“Thanks,” you smiled, pushing off his arms and skating smoothly around. He fell in rhythm beside you, skating to the music.

He tried to show off by skating backwards, but lost his balance and fell, making you shriek. You moved toward him quickly, and held out your hands to help him up.

“Are you alright?” You asked, and he nodded, biting back a smile.

“I’m fine, I’m okay.”

You decided you’d had enough then, and the two of you resorted to eating pizza at a parlor down the street, Bucky insisting on you needing dinner before you went home. You shivered as you stepped into the air-conditioned restaurant, coming out of the warm summer evening. Bucky slipped his black leather jacket from his arms and put it on you when he noticed. You whispered a soft thank-you, pulling it tightly around your smaller body. It smelled faintly of smoke and castile soap, like him.

Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of the sight of you wearing his clothes, his heart stirring as you hugged it around you.

“Feel better?” Bucky asked as you bit into a slice of pizza.

“I’m not going to let you take credit for loosening me up.”

“Oh, I haven’t even tried to loosen you up yet.” He joked, making you choke on your water. You glared at him for the suggestive comment, and he smirked.

You blushed at the insinuation, images of intimacy with Bucky flashing through your mind. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, and you shifted under his gaze.

“Smartass. You still abducted me.”

“And you’re enjoying it.”

You took another bite of your pizza, finally breaking the intense eye contact.

Even though you had enjoyed the night with Bucky in the city, and you’d gone home full of butterflies, he had quickly managed to get back on your nerves.

Bucky’s friends came over to party, and they were loud, obnoxious, and kept you (and half the neighbourhood) up with their partying the night before you had a presentation at college. You were infuriated when you complained to Bucky, and he told you that you should’ve just come to party with them, since you were up anyways.

Then there was the fact that Bucky kept revving the engine of his damned motorcycle. You hated it, especially early in the morning when you were trying to peacefully trying to pour a cup of coffee.

You couldn’t stand him, and he just made you mad.

You hated his motorcycle, and you hated his arrogance. You hated how everyone dropped to their knees at his every whim. You hated when you’d see him painting his fence or working on his car outside, and he’d pull his shirt off when he saw you looking. You hated that Bucky smoked.

Mostly, you hated how everything Bucky did gave you butterflies.

Bucky adored the way your brow knit together when you glared at him. He adored the blush of your cheeks and the way you huffed in annoyance. He loved to see your eyes glitter with emotion whenever he got under your skin. He adored the way your eyes lingered on him whenever he was shirtless in the yard.

Bucky adored you.

The night was particularly warm. The summer heat had everyone on edge, and you and Bucky were no exception. The moon was the only light in the starless sky, a dark stillness settling over your neighbourhood. It was incredibly late, but you couldn’t sleep like everyone else. You had been enjoying the quiet loneliness of the night when Bucky had gone outside to the sidewalk. He was shirtless as he lit a cigarette, grinning at you.

“Hey, doll.”

“Don’t call me that,” you huffed, feeling like a broken record.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he blew smoke into the air, and you stood up off your porch swing. You walked across your small lawn quickly, until you were standing in the street.

“You shouldn’t smoke, it will kill you,” you quipped, making him roll his eyes.

“Don’t stand in the street, a car can come and kill you.” Bucky said back, though there was a tone of seriousness to his voice.

“It’s the middle of the night, no one is going to-”

Bucky suddenly grabbed you and yanked you toward him, making you shriek. Less than half a second later, a car without its headlights on came flying down the street.

Your eyes were wide with fright, unable to process that Bucky had just pulled you from in front of a car. His eyes blazed with emotion, and you tried to shove off of him.

“You almost fucking died! I told you not to stand in the damned street!” Bucky snapped at you, raising his voice.

“Don’t yell at me! I wouldn’t have been in the street if you weren’t such an asshole!” you shouted back, your eyes and throat burning, making your entire body tremble.

“Why are you so fucking difficult?!” Bucky’s fear at seeing you almost get hit by a car in front of him fueled his emotion, and he didn’t mean to yell at you, but the feelings were boiling over.

“Because you make me so mad, and because I love you, you idiot!” You screamed before you could stop yourself. When you said the words out loud, you realized you meant them, more than you meant any of the anger.

There was a deafening silence, and it was too late to take it back.

“Bucky, I-” you stammered, but he cut you off by crashing his lips against yours, pulling you into him.

Passion lit like a fire between you, and you reached up and held his face, kissing him back with force. You parted your lips and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, moving in sync with you, swallowing your small noises. He cradled your jaw as his mouth moved with yours, drawing you even closer.

The heat practically suffocated you, and you were completely lost in Bucky. He tasted like smoke and coffee, and his body was pressed against your own, overwhelming you with need. His hands slid down to squeeze your ass, and you rolled your hips against his as you moaned.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered when the two of you finally broke for air. He wasted no time before mouthing along your jaw, pressing kisses down the column of your throat.

Your hands ran down his toned chest, before hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging his hips closer against yours, wanting to feel him hardening against you. The heat between your legs was spreading, and you were aching for him.

Bucky groaned against your neck as you ground against him, and he backed you up against his car, needing to ground the two of you. He could hear your small, breathy pants by his ear and you were practically shaking with need.

“Bucky, please touch me,” you begged, months of sexual frustration pouring out all at once. Who was he to deny you? He kissed you deeply, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing him against your front.

Your breath hitched when he slipped his hand into your waistband, cupping your sex. You spread your legs a bit, and he slipped his fingers through your folds, tracing the shape of you.

He hardened at the sound of your soft moans and the feeling of you twitching against his fingertips. Neither of you cared that you were outside, on display for anyone who woke up in the night.

He found your clit, stroking it softly while you made out, swallowing all of your sexy noises. You were overwhelmed by what he could do with just his fingers, and you somehow needed him closer, even though your bodies were pressed against each other. Your body was buzzing with pleasure from his small touches alone, and you were having the same effect on him.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you breathed, lightly biting down on his shoulder to silence yourself as he eased a finger inside of you. He pumped slowly, and you took him in easily with how turned on you were.

“I know, doll, but I gotta warm you up first so I don’t hurt you.” He kissed your jaw, and a short laugh escaped you.

“Cheeky,” you hummed, palming over his crotch, making him push two fingers into you all at once. The air caught in your throat, but you kept feeling him up as he curled his fingers forward into your g-spot.

The way you were moaning his name was driving him wild, and he couldn’t draw out the foreplay anymore. You pulled your shirt over your head, thankful you had forgone a bra. Your shirt was discarded in the driveway, and Bucky tugged your bottoms down easily before lifting your nude body up onto the hood of his car. You leaned forward, undoing the button on his jeans and helping him out of them, your eyes widening when you saw how big he was.

Bucky grinned at you, able to read your mind, your thoughts evident in your startled expression. His ego definitely didn’t need the boost, and you blushed when you realized he was grinning at your observation.

Your tongue nervously darted out over your lips, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He lowered you to lay down on the cool metal, making you shudder when it came into contact with your hot skin.

You exhaled softly as his hands skimmed down your body in an attempt to ease your nerves. He leaned down and kissed you gently, bending your legs up to your chest.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, doll,” Bucky promised, and he meant it. You nodded, your head falling back as he slowly rocked into you.

Your vision focused in on the moon hanging above you in the sky, and you didn’t care about being outside, even as the warm breeze ruffled your hair.

“Bucky... fuck,” you whined, arching your back, pushing yourself further onto him. Your knees went over his shoulders, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head as he rocked his hips against yours.

The slow, deep rhythm had you struggling to breathe, pleasure rolling through your body in thick waves. Bucky was overwhelmed by the feeling of your velvety walls squeezing around him, tight as he fucked into you all the way.

“That’s my girl,” Bucky praised you as you pushed down to meet his powerful thrusts.

Your eyes rolled back at the praise, and you felt pressure building low in your belly as he repeatedly hit the spots inside of you that had you seeing stars. You were moaning his name and writhing below him, the sight making him nearly explode.

“Y/N,” Bucky gasped out, fucking into you roughly, one of his hands rubbing your clit to help you along before he couldn’t fight off his own orgasm any longer.

With the added stimulation, the pressure snapped inside of you, making you squeeze around him and come with a scream, not caring if you stirred the neighbours.

Let them see Bucky taking you on the hood of his car.

Your name fell from Bucky’s lips like worship, the feeling of your orgasm washing over you and forcing you to contract around him pushed him over the edge. He came inside of you, painting you with his release and prolonging your own pleasure.

You looked down at him once the buzzing pleasure started to subside, a sleepy smile on your face. He grinned at you, pulling you up into a sweet kiss.

“Still hate me, doll?”

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atozfic · 3 years

Text

lessons in law.

⎘ pairing: fem!reader x choi san.

⎘ genre: dilf!san, lawyer!san, tutor!san, law-student!reader, smut, all parties are of legal age!!

⎘ warnings: dom!san, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, hair pulling, light name calling, mentions of punishment, san is a simp in denial.

⎘ description: sometimes, there’s nothing wrong with an oral exam.

⎘ word count: 1.6k

⎘ author’s note: this was supposed to be a less-than-500-words timestamp. 🧍‍♂️

⎘ taglist: @yunhobabygurl, @eonghwa, @iusrene, @nari-nim, @couchpotatoaniki, @vanishingboots, @yoheyyosup, @spacepiratehongjoong, @rainteez02 unable to tag: @harry-the-pottypus

masterlist.

navigation.

“for a d-defamation lawsuit to turn out success- fuck!” from the moment your resolve slips, you regret it, almost going as far as to complain verbally, if you didn’t already know better.

talking back will only get you punished, and not in the way of whips and chains and all things spice, but in the way of being left high and dry, pussy wet and unfilled.

cold air brushes up against your sensitive folds as the man beneath your desk pulls away from your sopping core. you glance down in time to catch the way he swipes his tongue over his lips, collecting the juices you’ve covered him in, in as little as the three minutes he’s been down there.

he’s looking at you with one eyebrow raised, expectantly, awaiting you to correct the error of your ways.

“did i tell you to stop reading, princess?” his voice, the way the gruff in it curls over his words and his beautiful lips move as he speaks, sends a fresh rush of arousal down your nerves.

“no, mr. choi.”

“and what did you do?”

“stop-” you start, only to do the very thing you said when you jolt in your seat, moments after he’d blown air onto your pulsating heat, torturing you with the minimum amount of pressure against your clit. it takes a deep, calming breath on your end to centre yourself again. “i stopped reading.”

“tsk.” his response worries you. so vague, you’re yet to figure out if he’s going to even bother continuing with the pleasure he was giving you. as if sensing your unsure nature, the drag of his pointer finger over your soaked entrance becomes his answer to the unasked question. “how am i supposed to know you’re studying the notes i gave you if you do that, hmm? do it again and we’ll have to cut the tutoring lesson short today.”

he could have whispered the words and you still would have heard him loud and clear. your eyes reluctantly snap back to the textbook instead of staring down at the sight of him between your legs, hair perfectly slicked back and begging to be messed up, tie undone and hanging from his neck, shirt sleeves rolled up his arms and straining against the muscles of his forearms.

“the act of defamation occurs when someone makes a false and harmful statement...” you begin reciting the words again, after you’d cleared your throat.

as san’s face lowers back onto your aching cunt, you remind yourself over and over to read, just read. that’s all he wants you to do and, in exchange, he’ll take you to heaven with his tongue. but oh, it is so much easier said than done. your hands soon find a grip on the edge of the desk, a place to root yourself down while his tongue drags over you lazily.

“there’s two different types of defamation-” his tongue teases at your hole and you want to beg him, scream at him to shove it- or any other part of him- into your cunt, walls clenching around nothing but your own wetness, causing it to ooze out onto your tutor’s waiting tongue. “libel is the name given to any defamatory words that are written...”

“my princess has the prettiest pussy.” a hand snakes it’s way up your leg, wrapping a tight grip around your thigh before he props it onto his shoulder. when his tongue finally breeches your walls again, it’s at a whole new angle than earlier, and that alone has you wishing you could throw the textbook off your desk only for you to bend over it while mr. choi takes you from behind.

“slander is spoken defamation, and often more trickier to prove in court...” instead, you keep reading so that he’ll keep eating.

“what would your dad say if he knew this is what you use our tutoring sessions for, huh?” san continues to taunt you between licks of your cunt, switching his focus between your hole and your clit. he’s trying to get you to disobey him. “if he knew his dear friend who he asked to help his pretty little daughter get accepted into his law firm has actually been teaching her how to take a proper cock? oh, and just imagine his face if he knew that i fucked you under his very own roof.”

“d- defamation cases are often costly and are a long procedure...” you can’t help it when, instinctually, your hand flies down to tangle itself in his perfectly done hair. instead of pushing you away like you’d thought he would have, san only closes his eyes and let’s out a moan as you tug his hair, face nestling itself deeper between your legs and causing his nose to bump against your clit.

“you have no idea how much i think about you, baby.” his free hand lands on your heat, cupping it as he pulls back to stare up at you. “got me wishing i could have you every hour of the day. that you were mine alone to touch, and fuck, and kiss.”

“w-what would-” you become brave suddenly, spurred on by the moment of vulnerability from the man between your legs, looking so much more at your mercy than ever before, like he’s begging to worship the only goddess he’ll ever know. “your son, or your ex-wife, say if they knew you were doing this, hmm? that you took on an apprentice only to corrupt her?”

“you were corrupted long before i got my hands on you, y/n.” he smirks up at you, only to chuckle when he thrusts a finger into your cunt, no warning, and you gasp, tugging on his hair again. “the only thing i’ve done is show you how good sex can be when you’re doing it with someone experienced instead of some sweaty frat-boy who finishes in two minutes and doesn’t even know where your clit is.”

“you’d be surprised, some of them are better than you give them credit.” you’re lying, without an ounce of shame about it. and it’s more than worth it to see the way his eyes darken, his eyebrows frown, his hand picks up the speed that his finger thrusts into you.

no warning comes when he inserts a second finger.

“really? can they make you beg for their cock like a bitch in heat?” he doesn’t bother to stall any longer, head diving back down between your legs to shut you up.

his mouth latches onto your clit, rolling it between his lips and prodding at it with his tongue while he continues to fuck you with his hand. a third finger enters you and you throw your head back, body curling off the leather of your desk chair while you tighten your grip on san’s hair.

“mr. choi, please.” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for.

“yeah, just like that. a little slut begging to be fucked full, that’s all you are, right? and no one knows how to give you what you want but me.” every whine, moan of your voice, every time your walls tighten around his digits, it strokes his ego and keeps him giving you more, more, more.

when the coil in your body is so close to finally snapping, he rips his hand from you. it’s a moment of devastation only, until you feel his hand, soaked in you, clasping around your other thigh and dragging it over his shoulder too. then his tongue is back in you, drinking in every bit of essence your quivering hole offers him.

when you cum, it’s with your body more sat on him than the actual chair, hands on your ass and holding you against his face as his tongue continues to work you through the electrifying feeling, nose bumping over your clit every so often. while your jaw is slacked open in a silent scream, san makes no attempt to hold back the moans and grunts ripping through his chest.

“shh, shh, i’ve got you.” he coos when he rises from under your desk, lowering your still quivering body back down onto your chair. you have half the mind to wonder if he’s a completely different man to the one who’d been buried between your thighs minutes ago, as he brings up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. instead of a smirk or a scowl, he wears a smile, even when you feel his fingers dip back between your swollen folds.

“mr. choi, i need a break first-”

“shh, it’s okay.” and you believe him, as he retracts his hand and brings it up to your mouth, commanding you to open it. your eyes flutter shut as your mouth wraps around his fingers, tasting yourself all over them. “so pretty, aren’t you?”

you can only nod, so relieved he gave you what you wanted even though you’d stopped reading. you’re unsure how long he lets you sit there with his fingers in your mouth but him removing them brings you back into the room instantly. coating your cheek in your own spit-mixed cum as he cups it, he leans down to place a kiss on your neck.

“i need to go make a quick call but, when i come back, i expect you to be naked on your bed, ass up and face down.” this time it really is nothing but a whisper, yet you hear him loud and clear.

“why?” it seems like a silly questions to ask, when you already know exactly why he wants you in that position.

“you didn’t think i was really going to let you get away with talking back to me, did you?”

#ateez smut #choi san smut #ksmutclub #cs.writings #ateez.writings #smut.writings #atozfic.writings

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 3 years

Text

Anklets and Necklaces

Inspired by this tweet.

@5-secondsofcolor I’m not sorry.

Female Reader insert. NSFW Content (18+). My smut writing is hella rusty. So I do apologize, whoops.

_______________

Calum plays at the anklet, spinning it around and around her joint as her legs are crossed and resting in his lap. The gold jewellry is hardly ever taken off since he gave it to her. In return, she gifted him a chain with a tiny pendant with her initial etched into the back of it. The front of it is an arrowhead. He wears it so often now, that when it’s off, he feels a little incomplete. It’s an easy gesture to carry her everywhere with him.

“Okay we gotta decide what to eat for lunch like now or I’m going to get hangry,” she states.

Calum glances up from his phone, to see her still scrolling on hers. “Oh no. Not hangry,” he teases. But he knows she means it. Her warnings have about a thirty minute window, just enough for a delivery if they get something simple. Or if they want something more complicated, they need to find a snack now while the main course is cooking. “What do you want? Thai? Mexican?”

“Would you hate me if I said I really just wanted nuggets from McDonalds?”

The pout on her lips makes him laugh, “No, I could never. Usual then?”

“Yes, please.”

Stretching across the length of her, Calum pushes his lips together, trying to ask for a kiss. She laughs in return and squeezes his cheeks. “Be lucky you’re cute,” she states before lifting up slightly to meet his lips. “And squishy.”

“Ain’t nothing on me squishy,” he huffs, straightening back up to put her order into the app.

She sets her phone down on her stomach, gazing up over the sharp line of his jaw that his plump cheeks sit atop. And while it’d be easy to return with a poke and a verbal jab about his cheeks, she just watches him. His fingers deftly work over the screen. The white tank sits as a stark contrast to the depth and glow of his skin. “I think all the right things on you are squishy.”

“Yeah, what are those?”

“Your cheeks. And as much as you and your trainer kick your ass, I know happy weight when I see it.”

Calum grins, a chuckle shaking through him as he sets his phone down on the arm of the couch--the order completed on his end. He pinches at her thighs. “Take that back.”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think I will. I like it--just like I like my cookies. Hard on the edges gooey in the middle.”

Standing for just a moment to let her legs fall onto the couch, Calum kneels onto the cushion, hovering above her. Her eyes glitter just a little as she talks and the soft easy smile on her face lets him know that it’s all out of love--what’s she’s saying. The pads of his fingers run along the side of her thigh. “Be lucky I love you.”

“I am already lucky, so say what you gotta say. Roast me, my love. It’s not like we don’t do that anyways.”

And truth be told, Calum had no response. Not when he looks at her, because God all he sees is the person that’s been with him on his bad mental days. She’s been there when Calum was sure there was no lower low or higher high. And what do you say to that person that’s been there, seen all of you that there is to see? With a gentle and chaste kiss, Calum settles for silence.

“Cat got your tongue now, huh?”

This--this Calum can respond too. It’s all too easy. “I know what else my tongue can have.”

“I know something your tongue can have too.”

“Really now?” Calum asks, dragging his fingers over the top of her thigh and tracing the line of her lounge shorts. “Food will be here in fifteen minutes though. So that’s up to you.”

“Not nearly enough time to savor it. Besides,” she starts and takes a pause. Her lips pull into a side smile and Calum knows what that means. One brow quirks in anticipation and Calum watches her. The silence settles for a little too long.

“Besides what?” he prompts again.

“Besides, I need the mail to be delivered first.”

“What did you buy?”

“You’ll see later. I promise. It’s really not even supposed to be used for lingerie. But I’ve wanted these for a long time and I specifically have a set I’m trying to complete.”

There’s the black mesh set that she’s slowly been building out. The main piece came in weeks ago, at this point it might even be months ago that that came in. He was privy to it then and gave it the christening that it deserved. But there wasn’t any other lingerie set that needed expansion. Not at least to his recalling. “Which one is it?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Oh please,” he whines, dropping his head into her neck. His lips softly and slowly seal kisses into her warm skin.

“No, Calum. I’ve been waiting on this package for weeks. It got held up in customs and I-” she sighs at his lips sucking at her skin. Not hard enough to cause a bruise, but just enough to make her spine tingle. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Calum pushes up, with a huff, sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch. “This is killing me, you know?”

“Well, you ain’t dead yet. So I think you can tough it out for a little bit longer.”

“Begrudgingly--I want you to know that.”

She sits up, swinging her feet to the floor. “Your sacrifice will be duly noted. The mail will be here before you know it.” The couch releases her weight and Calum watches her pad into the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” she calls.

“I’m good,” he returns, knowing that he will be counting down the seconds until the mail comes. She returns with a glass of water, sitting back down on the couch, but bringing her feet up underneath her as she motions to the TV. “You watching that?”

Calum answers with a shrug. He wasn’t anymore. He originally turned it on mostly for the weather and some news. He found himself bored and flipping through channels before settling on the sports channel while he took care of Duke in the morning. Noise to fill the space since his brain needed the distraction. He hadn’t slept all that great the last few nights, decent sleep. The closer and closer the band got to putting out music the more his nerves kicked in--sometimes they were sneaky. The nerves come up faster than Calum had anticipated. And right now, they won the first round. But Calum was working hard to combat them so he could get about his daily life.

“Go crazy,” he finally verbally responds. And she picks up the remote, changing channels too fast for Calum to even understand how you could process what was on before decking it was a no. She eventually settles for HGTV--not quite caring what show was on.

The first knock that comes to the door is the food that Calum ordered for the two of them. He answers it, popping up in the hopes it’s the mail. When it’s not, he sighs just a little but places the bag down onto the coffee table. “Your nugs, my queen,” he teases.

“Thank you, my good sir,” she returns with a grin, opening before divvying out what is for who. “You wouldn’t have happened to shot up like a bat outta hell because you wanted that to be the mail?”

Calum feels the heat in his cheeks, but bumps her shoulder gently. “No, why would I ever want that?”

“Oh I don’t know,” she scoffs in return, dunking a nugget into the sweet and sour sauce. They share a soft bout of laughter before turning their gaze back to the TV. Duke’s paws click as he ventures into the kitchen for a drink of water from his bowl. The lapping and splash of his tongue echoing just slightly as the screen goes dark between the show and the commercial break.

Calum lifts his gaze, taking in the soft angle of her jaw. She curls up around the carton of fries, eyes glued to the screen. Does she even have the slightest clue what she does to him? It’s not even the involved things like dressing up for him, or comforting him. It’s just her, when she’s munching on fries. Or when she sleepily walks behind Duke in the mornings. It’s when she hums as she cooks. It’s the dancing she does when she’s cleaning. It’s the pouts when she messes up on something and her brow furrows in as the determination settles onto her face.

It’s when she fucked up a birthday cake for him once--not greasing the sides of the pan enough and then adding a tad too much milk--called him crying about it and then in a minute flat resolved to make him brownies instead. Because she said she’d be damned if she didn’t make him something sweet to nibble on or pass along to the guys. And Calum’s not even that much of a sweets guy, which she knew, so she only settled on giving him half the batch she made. She, of course, saved the other half for her and her friends.

And it’s just the moments that she’s not even trying that makes Calum melt. Like when she paints her nails, she offers to do his first. Or when she lays down next to Duke, and in their shared silence, they seem to communicate everything with each other.

“I love you,” he states.

She turns, eyes widening for a second before grinning around her sip of iced tea. “I love you.” Her brows furrow just a little. “You okay? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“If you didn’t want McDonalds, I could’ve done something else. Literally anything else,” she continues on almost as if she hadn’t heard him.

“It’s not the food,” he giggles. Calum reaches out to caress her cheek. “I’m okay.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“I just love you, that’s all. Wanted to share it with you.”

Her grin is soft as it lifts her lips. “Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

“I wouldn’t dare dream of getting rid of you.”

Another silence envelopes them. Calum finishes his food and takes the empty containers to the trash. Another episode starts up from the speakers and just above it, he hears the chime of his phone. “Do you want me to screen it for you?”

“Yes please!” If it’s one of the guys, they won’t mind her answering. If it’s someone important, he doesn’t want to miss the call.

“Calum’s phone,” she answers but he can already hear her feet shuffling to him in the kitchen. “Okay, Ash. I’ll keep that in mind.” Her voice comes closer and Calum shakes his hands just a little to get rid of the excess water before drying them. “No, I can’t say what it is without taking a look. Did you use the soil I recommended last time?” Another pause comes from her and when Calum turns, he finds her leaning up the kitchen counter, phone halfway pulled down but not fully away from her ear. “Yeah, I definitely think you should consider changing soils. But I can take a better look tomorrow for you. I’m going to pass along the phone now.”

She hands the phone over. “He said it was important.”

“Thank you,” Calum says in a whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then placing the phone to his ear. “Yeah, Ash?”

Calum’s not even sure how long the conversation goes on. At first, it is important information that Ashton’s trying to confirm--a date and time for a meeting that they had later in the week. He says he wrote it down where he writes down all their meetings but it’s not there. And Ashton’s trying to make sure that he doesn’t miss it. So Calum shuffles to his office and verifies in his calendar the time for the meeting.

But then the conversation diverges--they start talking about everything and anything. So much so, they’re laughing. Calum doesn’t even hear the knock at the front door. But he does notice her scurrying off into the bedroom. The door closes with a soft click. Duke comes trailing after her but notices the closer door and then keeps down the hall to the office. Calum reclines back in his seat trying to get another angle at the door. But it’s closed fully.

“You okay, gramps?” Calum asks Duke.

“Oh fuck off, mate!” Ashton laughs.

“Not you, you fucking egg. Duke--I was talking to Duke.”

“Oh!” Ashton giggles. “Sorry, I thought you was trying to talk shit.”

“I don’t have to try and do that to you.”

“Oi, don’t start something bro.” The two of them laugh and Calum bends down to scratch behind Duke’s ears. “Alright, thanks for confirming that meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow in the studio?”

“Yeah--bright and early. Talk to you later.” The call ends and when Calum spins around in his desk chair, his jaw drops as she steps out from the bedroom. It’s not exactly something new--as in something that she’s never worn before. But it doesn’t mean he ever gets tired of seeing her like this.

The white bustier pushes her breasts up and almost over the cups. And he travels the look down, taking in the baby blue skirt, fishnet knee highs. And he goes back up, taking in a black strap wrapping around her thighs. She notes the lustful gaze and steps right on the line of the threshold to the door.

“So,” Calum starts, trailing his gaze down and then back up to her face. “Not the black lingerie I was anticipating.”

“No, I’m waiting for the heels I want for that lingerie to go on sale. Besides, you didn’t like the collar I liked so I’m still searching.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t like it. It’s just too similar to one we already bought.”

“You’re right, but still.”

Calum cracks a smile at the reluctant confession. “But enough about that. This--this is a cute outfit.”

She nods, smoothing out the pleated mini skirt. “It’s less about the outfit and more about these,” she says, tapping at the thin black band.

“And those are?” Calum asks. It’s one step closer into the room and Calum think he can make out a heart shaped metal loop in the middle of it. She takes a second step closer and Calum can see clearly it’s some sort of thigh garter--leather or something related as the material. “Oh,” he breathes.

She continues slowly to approach Calum and when she’s just in arms reach, she lifts the skirt up. It goes up inch by inch and Calum’s entranced. Watching more of her thighs revealed to him. And soon it’s black panties--mesh and if Calum remembers correctly crotchless. But wrapped around her waist is another band of leather. Two pieces hook to another metal hoop right on her hip bones and then one trip connects the top piece to the bottom.

“A harness garter belt--what do you think?” she asks in a whisper.

Calum exhales, desire stirring in the pit of his stomach. He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around her thighs and pulling her into him. He kisses in the spaces between the leather, gingerly, lips hardly touching her skin. “I think you look beautiful,” he hums, dropping his head on his neck to look up at her.

Her eyes are still closed and Calum softly runs the tips of his fingers up her thigh, tracing the lines of the harness. With a deep exhale, she finally blinks back to reality. “Not too silly?”

His brows meet in the middle of his face. Why would she think it’s too silly? There’s nothing silly about her standing in front of him, clearly excited about her own purchase. “Angel--I’ll be damned if I ever think this is silly.”

Swinging her leg over and settling onto his lap, she grins. “Thank you, love.”

Calum holds onto her hips, rubbing his palms down to her ass. “So you said this technically isn’t lingerie?”

“No--I don’t think so. But I think they could be--a small accessory to something I already have.”

They share a kiss, much too quick for Calum’s liking so he pulls her back in for more. And her arms wind around his neck as he continues to palm her ass. Here, he doesn’t really care what it is technically or not. She looks absolutely amazing. “I like it. In fact,” Calum starts, moving to grip her thighs before housing them both up and then plopping her down on the desk. “I really like them.”

Calum stands between her legs, nose brushing and bumping against hers. Here, she can feel her core aching as Calum’s fingers trail closer and closer to her heat. It’s feather light--his touch, but it makes her feel electric all the same. “Cal,” she hums.

“Yes baby?”

There’s nothing that comes out of her mouth but a small huff, a rushed and harsh exhale at the feeling of his fingers dancing across her skin. He grins pulling back just a little to see the way her face goes slack, almost as if she’s at peace with him between her legs.

“Was there something you wanted to say, darlin’?” Calum tries again, taking just a half step back away from her.

With her eyes still closed, she smiles. “I want to know,” she starts, exhaling softly to counter the thud of her heart in her chest, “if you’d so kindly want to make love to me?”

Calum can’t help his own small tuft of laughter. “Darlin’, I’d do so happily.” They don’t always wind up in bed like this--but it’s nice, to be comfortable even to be this forward with this and this open.

Calum takes her hand as she hops down from the desk. “Give me a twirl,” he asks. She obliges, turning in a circle for Calum, punctuating the back view by lifting her skirt up. “Silly girl,” Calum laughs, giving a firm but playful tap to her ass.

Facing Calum again, she wraps her arms around his torso. “But you love it.”

“I do. I love you.”

They share another kiss and she slowly walks backwards out of the room. They get lost in each other--Calum in the way she fits against him and her in the way Calum holds her, palms spanning across her back and tight enough that she wonders if he thinks she’s going to disappear but gently enough at the same time that she’d love nothing more than staying here forever in his hold.

Calum finds the zipper to the top and slowly drags it down. The material exhales, slowly falling away from her body and when it falls to the floor, he kisses her neck, down to the swell of her breast. Her moans are soft, just above a hum that makes just enough noise for him to hear. And it goes right to his gut.

Here there's very little need for words. When Calum gives, she takes happily. But when she tugs at his hair, Calum knows to step back, lets her give something to him. Her kisses are soft against his skin, but make him feel like it’s being set on fire. One that he’d happily stay in, let the blaze consume every inch of him, if it meant that she was always the one to take him.

His shirt goes to join hers. Her mouth teases his nipples as she descends further down on him. Calum thinks he sighs, all he can do is just shut his eyes and let go into the feeling of her teasing the cut of his hips beneath the sweatpants. She’s always like this, teasing him. At first, it used to annoy him. But now he loves it, loves just how close she’s willing to push him to the edge, push his buttons but always delivering at the end of it.

Her meticulous work, to watch him jump at every scratch of her nails and nip of her teeth, is enjoyable. But Calum blinks open his eyes to cup her jaw, which stops her. When her gaze lifts, Calum motions for her to stand. “Yes?” she grins standing to her full height.

Calum presses their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“Well how dare I keep a man like you waiting?” With a slow kiss, tongues just barely dancing, Calum walks the two of them to the bed. The back of her knees hit the edge of it and she buckles just a little. Calum catches her from falling. “Turn around,” he whispers into her ear, “please.”

The instruction is obeyed and she spins to face the bed. Calum finds the zipper to the powder blue skirt and almost doesn’t want to take it off her. In the end, he does-- Calum lets the skirt fall onto a pool at their feet. Without even prompting she falls to her hands, ass grinding against his hips. He traces her spine with the pads of his fingers, following all the way down, over the curve of her ass and down to the opening in the panties. His fingers gather a bit of her arousal.

“Oh,” he groans. “So wet for me,” he hums with approval.

“Always for you,” she sighs. Calum teases her clit--a featherlight touch as he dances over her core. She lets herself fall a little bit more into the mattress--another moan leaving her lips when Calum takes one finger down from her clit to teasing her entrance.

Calum pulls away, bring his wet fingers to his lips and sucking them clean. “Taste just like heaven,” he hums. He gingerly guides her back to standing and uses her hips to get her to face him again.

More kisses are shared before they fall onto the mattress. Calum takes hold of one of the straps around her thigh and tugs her down, closer to him and she laughs. It gets caught off and morphed into a moan as Calum’s tongue licks a wide stripe up her. He’s careful of the mesh material of her panties, but knows that carefulness won’t last long. Not when her arousal coats his tongue. Not when her nails scratch over the muscles of his shoulders or tangle into the curls on his head.

She melts under the work of his mouth. The mattress merely becoming the vessel to hold the mess she’s bound to make and become. The room echoes the moans and slurps. Fingers gripping at the sheet, she chants Calum’s name. His tongue working magic over her core and just when she thinks she couldn’t possibly handle anything more, she notices the stretch at the addition of his fingers.

“Fuck,” she whines, lifiting one leg and he slips in even deeper, curling his fingers and hitting just the right spot.

Calum hungers for her pleasure--the high-pitched whine and groan as she releases. Some days it’s just the sound he needs to ground him. She gives short and breathless huffs, and quivers underneath him. “Gonna be a good girl?” Calum asks, fingers still pumping at her.

“Yes, oh yes, I will.”

“Gonna cum for me?”

“I want to, yes I’ll come for you. Make me your good girl.” Her voice sounds far away, as if she’s not fully cognizant of what she’s saying. Not quite babbling, but definitely talking so fast words bump into each other and slur together.

Calum grins, sucking at her clit again and she groans, head throwing back against the pillows. Her toes are curling--her whole body growing warmer with the passing second. The heat coils in her lower gut and she’s pleading. Though, she’s not sure who she is really meaning to plead to, but she wants to cum so badly.

Then it finally happens, one moment she’s sure she’s nearly in tears and the next, the coil snaps. She squeezes, hips raising off the bed and Calum continues to ride out her orgasm, gently pressing her back down into the bed. She hisses and starts to push at his shoulders, the signal that it’s too much. So Calum places one last kiss to her clit before pulling away from her glistening core.

Beneath him, eyes fluttering close, she looks angelic. Calum holds himself up above her and just watches the way she tries to collect her breath. “You’re beautiful, you know?” he whispers, not wanting to shatter the silence.

“No kidding?” she teases, winding her arms around his neck. The necklace dangles just a little in her face and she takes one hand to trace the chain. Hooking her fingers into it, she tugs Calum down to her. The taste of her arousal on Calum’s tongue makes her head spin. Calum caresses her side and stomach as the kiss deepens. Here is all they need--the soft and deep kisses, the moans that they swallow from each other.

Her hands leave from around his neck and begin to push down his sweatpants and underwear. And he lets her, even pulls back to kneel on his knees as she sits up. Their kiss hardly breaks and she’s quick to tug the cotton material down, hands wrapping around his length.

He groans at the squeeze--nothing too hard just enough pressure to make his whole body ignite. Her hand pumps him, once, then twice slowly and teasing him. “Baby,” he sighs, relishing the feeling of her hands working over him. The stay like that only for a minute or two before Calum pauses her to step down and full disrobe.

When he climbs back onto the bed, he crawls over her. “Welcome back, handsome,” she greets.

“Oh, it’s so good to be back,” he returns, grinning.

She runs her fingers over the tattoos decorating his chest, out of habit, out of something to ground her for a moment. There’s no way he’s real and it shouldn’t ever shock her like this. But sometimes it sneaks up on her and the realization of how madly in love she is with his man hits her all over again.

“What are you thinking about?” Calum asks.

“How much I love you,” she answers softly.

“I love you too,” he returns, bending down to kiss her. It’s soft and sweet--the kiss. For a moment, they just inhale the breaths of the other. It’s a tender moment, one that neither one wants to interrupt, so they let it linger, smiling at each other. She stretches up to kiss him, one hand trailing between their bodies and Calum catches the hint all too quickly when she traces along his length.

“I haven’t forgotten, love,” he exhales in a breathy laugh. “Trust me, I could never forget.” Once lined up, Calum’s slow to sink into her. One, he wants to drag this out, enjoy every inch of him that she grips of him. And two, because he wants to make sure that even in the lull that she’s ready to take him.

Her head falls back, hair pushing into the pillow and neck exposing itself to him. A tempting sight but Calum loses himself in the feeling of her wetness. He’s slow, pulling out just a bit before sinking further back into her. Her sighs and words of encouragement are soft from beneath him but they fuel him.

The pace quickens and both of them groan at the ecstasy. Out of reflex, she lifts one leg to readjust her hip flexor and Calum brings it up, resting her ankle on his shoulder. He kisses over the joint and the anklet, savoring just how much of her he can feel like this.

The chain dangles in her face, brushing in the valley of her breast and she revels in the feeling of Calum reaching the full depths of her body. She digs her nails into his flesh, more curses falling from her lip. But some of them get lost in the groans that win out. “God,” she huffs. “You’re everywhere.” And though it’s a bit of strain to get the words out because Calum’s pace is relentless as he snaps his hips into hers, she pushes the words out.

“You always take me so well,” he praises, watching the way her face contorts. “Oh, so soon, love? You’re going to cum again for me so fucking soon, like a good girl.”

Her whine slips out first but she nods, feeling the coil tightening yet again in her lower abdomen. Her body is hot, and she can already feel the prickle of sweat on her forehead. “Please, baby, please,” she begs.

“As you wish,” he hums, his own orgasm approaching faster than he anticipated. His body humming as the warmth spreads. The bed rocks just a little, hitting the wall and the sounds echo around them as they sigh and moan to each other. But the only thing that really matters to them, is each other.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, voice straining as she orgasms. No noise comes from her, but her mouth opens like if she had the breath she’d definitely be screaming his name. This time the quakes last longer, her whole body shaking. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he hums, bumping his nose against her jaw, still riding through her orgasm.

“Shit, oh my god,” she shudders, wrapping her arms around his neck.

There’s a slight hiss when Calum moves again, and he kisses over her face, starting with her nose and then moving to her cheeks. Another quake takes her and Calum, not anticipating it, groans-- his orgasm now right on the edge. It won’t be much longer, but she nibbles at his earlobe. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Made me feel so fucking good. I want you to cum in me. So fucking deep,” she hums.

And while Calum’s trying to get his own rebuttal to the tip of his tongue, she squeezes around him. “Fuck,” he yelps just a little, his body erupting with his orgasm. His body shudders and he’s so blindsided by the feeling, his slips just a little, more of his weight settling onto her than usual.

She doesn’t say anything, just hums at the feeling of him succumbing to the pleasure. “Oh, that’s what I wanted,” she encourages. It leaves her throat like a purr and Calum shivers again at the sound.

They lay together, for a moment, her nails scratching lightly at the muscles in his back. Calum sinks into her, body going heavy. Her slight shift squeezes around him and he groans, sensitive. “Don’t--I can’t,” he laughs.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” Even her own voice sounds heavy and slurred. She kisses his temple and Calum pushes up. He’s slow to pull out, enjoying the drips that follow of his own release spilling out of her. With one finger he gently scopes it back up and into her. The familiar twinge of desire pulls at his lower gut and it’s almost enough. She even shivers, but Calum watches the way her eyes stay closed.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Sleepy now,” she returns.

“Let’s get cleaned up first and then we can nap.” His voice sounds farther away towards the end of the sentence and she assumes he went to the attached bathroom. The rush of water from the sink confirms it. Something wet and warm presses against her--no doubt Calum with a warm washcloth.

The clean up is swift as both of them share a shower and then under the sheets, they curl up around each other. Calum kisses the top of her head as she nuzzles in closely. “I want pancakes after our nap,” she mutters.

“I think we still have some blueberries.”

She pops up onto her elbow and grins a little. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

Calum laughs. “Maybe just a little bit.”

#calum hood #calum hood fic #calum hood smut #calum hood fluff #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos smut #h writes #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer smut #5 seconds of summer fic

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deeranger · 2 years

Text

Armed & Dangerous

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Sam Winchester

Warnings: Gun!kink, gunplay, established Wincest, mild violence, hints of dubcon but it’s totally consensual, questionable ways of resolving pent-up frustration, no actual sex

Word count: 500 exactly

Summary: Dean is cleaning his gun when Sam’s attitude finally makes him snap... But it doesn’t at all go the way he expects. And he’s about to discover something new about his little brother.

A/N: This is for @impala-dreamer‘s drabble challenge. I picked SPN and the prompt “weapons”. And hey, this time I actually managed to keep the WC at “only” 500!? *Gasp* Also, there’s a Part 2!

The white cloth drags over the barrel of the Colt handgun, wiping at the oil residue and specks of dirt staining it. Sam’s eyes are following every move of Dean’s capable hands as he cleans his gun, brows furrowed in concentration. Sitting on one of the beds in the motel room, Dean shoots Sam a brief glance when silence seems to drag out a little longer than usual. Sure, they’ve been butting heads a lot lately, but usually that doesn’t equal any of them being silent. Not like this, anyway.

“What?” Dean says, lifting his gaze for half a second to eye his little brother up and down.

“Nothing,” Sam just says. His voice sounds a little strained, a little tight in his throat. Clearly, he’s lying.

Puzzled and suddenly annoyed, Dean fixes his gaze on him again:

“Seriously, dude, what’s your problem?” he spits and tosses the oily rag at the floor at Sam’s feet. And that’s it. All of the pent-up frustration they’ve both been bottling up comes pouring right out, all puffed-up chests and clenched fists. But Sam doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even retaliate when Dean smacks him against the wall, back first. The almost-clean gun is still in Dean’s hand, poking at the wallpaper when he slams his forearm across Sam’s throat:

“You know, I’ve just about had it with you!” Dean snarls, fed-up with his brother’s constant brooding and bitchy attitude. He expects Sam to cock back his fist and deliver a punch, expects him to start fighting. But instead, all he gets is heavy breathing and… And why are Sam’s pupils suddenly blown huge like this?

“Wha…?” Dean begins, but immediately trails off when he notices the unmistakable hardness tenting his brother’s jeans.

“What the hell, Sam?” he says, pulling back a little. As he does, the gun lightly brushes against a tense shoulder, the barrel slipping across Sam’s flannel shirt as Dean lets his arm fall back down.

His little brother’s reaction is instant: A thin noise escapes him, a guttural sort of whine that hitches in his throat. Oh... So, that’s what this is? Incredulous, Dean feels his own throat go tight, his breathing suddenly speeding up. Well, this is new.

“You like this, huh?” he hears himself rasp just as he presses the muzzle of the gun against Sam’s throat. There’s a gasp, a tiny flinch – and definitely a roll of his little brother’s hips.

“Jesus…” Dean says under his breath, pulse skyrocketing. And then he lets the gun trail along Sam’s jawline, cool metal grazing stubble and feverishly hot skin. As he drags the barrel across a slightly quivering bottom lip, a pink tongue darts out to lick at the weapon. Dean feels like he’s just been punched in the gut - yet, his dick practically jumps.

“Open your mouth…”

Sam downright whimpers. Still, his lips part in an open invitation.

“Want you to clean it for me,” Dean whispers and slides the gun’s barrel into his brother’s mouth.

#wincest #gunplay #SPN #fanfiction #spn fanfiction #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #dee writes #drabble challenge #500 words #Sam is a kinky lil shit

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

Text

Brothers React to a Demigod MC

So, I've gotten some interest to do a Brothers follow-up to a previous request of mine (Undateables React to a Cute, Badass MC), however, I've thus far refused to write one. Honestly, this HC actually plays on a trope I personally dislike and had it not been a request I would have never done it to start with. I just can't see any reasonable way a non-magic human can beat a bunch of demons, I just can't, and that hinders my imagination quite a bit. …But someone who’s not so human? That I can get behind. Fair warning, I grew up with the Percy Jackson series so that’s going to paint quite a bit of how I see modern demigods. Ready for things to get super-ultra fanfic-y for a bit?

Intro:

The day to kidnap bring the exchange students to the Devildom has finally come and the demons have all gathered in the Council Room to open their portal to the human world. Really, things started without a hitch - the portal opened with and their future student dropped down out of it and landed on the floor… before they suddenly leapt up, pulled out a weapon, and lunged at them!

… This isn’t your normal human, it is?

Lucifer

Oh Devil, this couldn’t have been any farther than what they wanted… They were looking for a human and they managed to pull out a halfling! A divine halfling no less!! Why wasn’t this in their file?!

Look, Lucifer might not be on good terms with his father, but even he knows he had it better than any children of the pagan gods… The levels of petty vindictiveness that run through that bunch are literally the stuff of legends...

After he and Barbatos were able to restrain the MC before they hurt themselves or anyone else, Diavolo explained everything to them and gave them a pardon for attacking the Demon Prince on sight… After they identified themselves and their parentage, Lucifer knew they were in for some shit…

He and Diavolo had to iron out an apology letter to their godly parent for days just to keep from saying anything that could accidentally cause a second Troy or worse... It was a mess...

But on the bright side, the “human” came pre-prepared for fighting monsters and demons, which honestly took a bit of a load off his shoulders. That’s less responsibility for Mammon - and in his experience, the less responsibility Mammon has, the better things usually turn out.

… Though their ability to actually hold their own in a fight did make things complicated sometimes - like whenever he was their perceived opponent...

He wasn’t expecting to have to manage a being that was actually capable of meeting him toe-to-toe on the battlefield and it did hinder his intimidation factor to some degree…It was hard to be threatening to someone who’s likely faced worse than you could ever offer.

In the end it probably worked out for the best, as a live exchange student is better for Diavolo than a dead one - but man did it get on his nerves until they made their pact together… Be scared of him, dammit!

Mammon

The first time he tried to threaten the human, they straight up pulled out a weapon and looked like they were ready to whip his ass!! Didn’t they know he wasn’t being serious?? 😫

He really didn’t know why he had to be on babysitting duty, anymore... This huma-er demigod could handle themselves just fine!

When he first ditched them with Levi, he later found out they managed to cleanly toss his brother over their head and make a break for it all by themselves! And Levi’s no pushover either!!

Later, he saw them getting ambushed on their way back from school and they soundly knocked out about five demons before he even caught up to them… and he’s, like, fast and stuff…

Their strength is kind of unreal at times, but he could tell they were still far from a mindless killing machine. They were more or less a normal person, they had wants and dreams like anybody else, but they just happened to be a long stronger than the average mortals around them. 🤷‍♀️

After he eventually got to know them and a bit about how their life worked, he felt a little bad for them... Who wants to be hunted down just for being born?

After learning about their struggles, Mammon ended up resolving to help keep them safe (even if a part of him knew they didn’t need him that much).

I mean, if the whole world’s against you, then you can use all the help you can get... right?

Leviathan

Levi found out exactly one thing about them within the first two minutes of meeting them… their reflexes were killer.

After Mammon ditched them on Day One, he tried to drag the human to his room to tell them his genius plan but they broke out of his grip and threw him flat on his back like was just second nature!

He was stuck on the ground for a full minute, trying to process what just happened, while they ran off into the House all alone…

Did he just get tossed around… by a human?? Was he really that pathetic!?!

Finding out later that they were actually half-god certainly helped out his self-esteem because, man, if he had lost so easily to a human of all things... He might have just never left his room again…

Levi pretty much kept his distance from them until they finally made a pact together and then he discovered that the MC wasn’t so scary after all. If he’s being honest, being in the same house as a demigod was actually kind of cool...!

Like, it was almost exactly the plot of the show: “Wait, I Thought I Was the Son of a Pagan God So What Am I Doing in a Christian Hell??” but their MC seemed to know a lot more about fighting than the protagonist of that show ever did…

Plus, because he never had to worry about their safety, he had even more excuse to never leave his room. Win-win!

Satan

A demigod, eh…? He had done plenty of research into human world mythologies in his spare time, frankly he thought the old gods had died out - but it seems they were still up and kicking… and making babies for whatever reason? Horny bastards...

Satan's original interest in the MC was purely academic. It’s not everyday that you get to meet someone of such a unique heritage and he fully intended to learn if all the legends about their greatness were true… and well...

He could say that the MC was certainly different than how he pictured humans being. He’d never met very many before, but from what he could gather they were a weak race that really got by on wit and persistence… However, nothing about the MC was weak.

Their aptitude for combat was surprisingly sharp, both in skill and reflexes. He had once blown up at them in anger and not only did they dodge his swipes but they got in a good few hits themselves with a nearby lamp… He never once thought a mortal could give him a black-eye but, somehow, they pulled it off. 🤷‍♀️

Combine their physical skill with what magical gifts were granted to them by their godly-half and they were a force to be reckoned with… Even Solomon seemed to hesitate and think more about his actions around them (which is saying something for a sorcerer of his strength).

It’d be fair to say a part of him grew to respect the MC long before they ever made their pact and that respect only grew afterwards. If he had to be bound to any master, human or otherwise, he’d rather it be one that he could right about consider an equal not only as a friend, but in strength as well.

Asmodeus

A demigod…? Oooo, he hadn’t come across one of those since he bedded Aeneas all those centuries ago… Such a gorgeous man, got all his looks from his mother~! 🤭

Asmo was probably the most interested in their godly heritage, but it felt like he was treating them like a zoo exhibit for a while… Something pretty and new to look at, but not exactly someone he wanted to know personally...

He openly and readily admitted that watching their little demigod in action got him hot and bothered (or well, more hot and bothered than usual ) but it didn’t take him to see they weren’t interested at the time…

He decided that he just had to have a pact with them after they saved him from Henry 1.0! It was before he noticed the giant snake and he was lurching back to strike, but the human swept in to knock him out of the way. They probably could have made mince meat of the creature themselves if Levi weren’t begging for them to spare his former pet...

Post-pact Asmo treated them with a lot more respect… but also still fanboyed over their fighting skills hardcore.

Like, their body had to be fit to keep up with all those monsters, right?? What was their training routine? Could he watch?? Oh please say he can watch!! He just can’t get enough of that fighter’s physique…! 😍

Beelzebub

So… the human isn’t a human but only part human? And the other part is a god? Does that make them any sturdier than normal humans…? Call him curious…

Beel was probably one of the few brothers who was legitimately weary of the MC from the beginning… He can get a certain feel for a person pretty quickly and something about them just felt…frankly, kind of dangerous.

But they also intrigued him a little… Beel’s used to being one of the strongest demons in any room he walks into (not a boast, just a fact) so for him to get that feel from a mortal was pretty impressive. A part of him just wanted to test them… you know?

So. He did. He asked them to help him train his martial arts one day and even with his awareness, he was not expecting the results that he got.

The MC was strong. Very strong. They were not only able to keep up with him and dodge his blows, but they were able to predict his moves and counterattack in kind. They didn’t even need to tell him that they had actually been fighting for their life for years, he could tell. They had a skill you don’t get from practice matches...

After that point, the two would go to each other to train and keep their skills sharp… but also just to spar for fun. Their fighting styles made a pretty good match and they bonded pretty damn quick because of it.

If anime tells us anything, when you find a good fight buddy, you stick with them. Even if one’s part god and the other is a demon. 🤷‍♀️

Belphegor

A demigod is still human enough to hate, sorry MC. Not that he knew about their godly heritage at first…

Really, he should have been a little more suspicious of how easily they seemed to take to life in the Devildom... Weren’t demons supposed to scare humans? Why did they seem so comfortable down here...?

His confirmation only came when he tried to enact the final part of “Use the MC to Escape the Attic!” plan and take their life to seal the deal… but oh boy, was he outclassed real quick…

The MC had already socked him in the jaw by the time he got his full demon form out and then they threw him across the room by the tail… the TAIL!! And it hurt like a bitch, too!! Even during the full blown fight that followed, he could tell they were holding back and it pissed him off something fierce...!

Why was the MC so strong?!? Humans weren’t supposed to be strong!!!

His brothers heard all the commotion and the Lilith confrontation ended up happening up in the attic between a somewhat beat-up Belphie and a barely-scratched MC. Had Beel not come to his defense on instinct, it might have turned out worse for him in all honesty… Something about that human just wasn’t right…

He only found out about their god-half after everything settled down and he promised not to try killing them again (not that anyone thought he could...) and that put some things into perspective. So the Lastborn Ruler of Hell isn’t as strong as one mortal demigod…? Ouch. Okay, fine then... Whatever...

He does think it’s too bad he missed them beating the crap out of the rest of his brothers, though (minus Beel)... That would have been fun to see. 😔

So I tried to keep this one God-parent neutral, but I’ve upgraded this to its own series! Check it out if you’re interested! 😊

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #this was pretty fun #another for the fav list

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imaslutforremusandsirius · 3 years

Note

Oo a jealous punishment regulus smut? Or a teasing regulus one?

Jealous

Hope you enjoy it babe, i tried to include them all in one🥴

Warning: 18+

---

„Reg, we were just joking around. It‘s not that serious!“

Ignoring you he kept walking towards the Slytherin dorms. You hesitated when he went through, but quickly made up your mind running after him.

„Regulus!“, you called, frustrated with his childish actions.

He just slammed his door shut and left you there. In the middle of the hallway.

„Fine act like a child! But don‘t come crawling to me when you need someone to fuck you!“

The Slytherins around you gasped, already gossiping if you really were the one dominating the relationship, but you didn‘t stay any longer to hear the rest.

Your mood was sour after that incident. You took it out on everyone, until Lily cheered you up a little. Sirius of course made it his mission to annoy his little brother any chance he got, like floating his food or firing peanuts into his water cup. You were still wondering where he got the peanuts from.

Regulus‘ resolve was slipping, but he held himself back. He would punish you later for your disobedience.

---

Doing your rounds in the hallways you tried to distract yourself, but your mind kept playing the mental image of Regulus giving you the ‚You fucked up‘ look. God, the way he stared at you during dinner, his eyes blazing with rage, jaw pressed tightly together. You just wanted to crawl on your knees and apologize. And suck him off.

„Where are your little friends? No Sirius to avenge you?“

You swirled around startled, looking at Regulus. God he looked so good in his green-silver robes, black hair neatly styled. The way he stood, like he owned the fucking castle and everyone in it. The air around him screamed Noble House of Black.

„What the fuck are you talking about?“

Regulus smirked, clicking his tongue.

„What have I told you about cussing, love?“

You snorted, crossing your arms on your chest.

„What makes you think I‘ll listen to anything you say?“

Regulus let out a small laugh, fingers flexing at his sides and he crossed his arms behind his back. Fuck, the way he‘s standing.

„Last I checked you were still my little girl.“

„Maybe I should be calling you that, considering the way you were acting last night.“

Regulus smug expression changed in seconds, mouth pressing into a thin line.

„Careful“, he barked out, „you don‘t want to go there.“

„Or what little boy? You gonna go running to mommy?“

That was a low blow and you knew it, but you were so fucking angry and horny and just wanted a reaction. Anything. You wanted him to break you. To lose himself in you and give into his rage for once in his goddamn life.

„Seems like I made a poor job in disciplining you. Lets change that.“

„Fuck you, don‘t think I‘ll break that easy Reggie.“

„I‘d be disappointed if you did. Put up a fight slut, it‘s more fun this way.“

He was walking in your direction with every word, the distance between you rapidly shortening.

„Oh really? Sirius didn‘t take so long in breaking me down, but I doubt that you have his skills...“, you taunted, a haughty smile dancing on your pretty lips.

Regulus halted at the mentioning of his older brother. His eyes narrowed and he finally closed the distance, shoving you against the wall. His eyes bore into yours, fixing you with a firey glare.

„If any other name besides mine comes out of your whore mouth, I‘ll fuck you right infront of the entire castle to see.“

Seeing the effect of his words on you he kept talking, angry eyes making you melt.

„I‘ll tie you up and fuck you right in front of my brother. That will teach him to stay the fuck away from what belongs to me!“

Now you understood why he was acting the way that he did yesterday. He thought that Sirius was trying to take you away.

„What the hell are you implying“, you said, willing it to come out strong, but it sounded more like a moan. You couldn’t help it, the way his hard on was pressing against your lower belly.

„He had his filthy hands all over you little girl. Don‘t you see the way he acts around you? He wants you all for himself!“

You would have laughed if you wouldn’t have been busy trying to keep your moans in as he bit at your jaw, grinding his cock against your belly. You could hardly tell him that Sirius was mental about a certain tall werewolf in his house.

„Maybe I‘m the one who needs to be taught a lesson...“, you breathed, lashes fluttering as you looked up at him.

„Don‘t expect me to stop.“

That was all he said before he turned you around to press your front against the brick wall. His ringed fingers came down on your ass in hard spanks, rings leaving imprints of ,RAB‘s and snakes on your flesh. You bit your lip, pressing your burning cheek against the cold wall to calm yourself. Pained whines escaped your raw lips when he pushes your skirt and underwear down, the rough material dragging against your sore skin.

„Quiet. I don‘t want a single sound. You‘ve said enough already.“

His fingers were hot against you wet cunt, slipping inside of you easily.

„Can‘t believe this turns you on. Was it the bit about me fucking you infront of the school or infront of my brother? Might try it out..“

Ypu cried out when he curled his fingers, spreading your legs with his feet. Crouching behind you he put both of his hands on your ass, spreading you open and put his face right between you thighs. His tongue lapped against your folds, finding your clit. Sealing his lips around it he locked his jaw, sucking on your clit until you were riding his face. The pain of his palms against your bruised skin mixed with the pleasure of his tongue and your knees buckled, barley able to support your body weight.

Pulling back he stood up, deliviring five quick slaps on your clit this time when you protested and your pussy clenched with the sensation.

„Regulus“, you breathed, „please!“

He was fumbling with his belt, metal clinking as it fell on the floor.

„Now you‘re begging? I thought I didn‘t have my brothers skills?“

You whined again, turning around to snake your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. One leg wrapped around his hip, tugging until he fell forward, holding himself up with his palms on the wall beside your head.

„Reg, I‘m sorry I just said it to rile you up. Please just make me cum!“

He caressed your jaw as you spoke, pouting with faux empathy. He surged forward to bite your bottom lip hard, gripping your other leg to secure it around his waist.

„You cum when I say so little girl. Anything else and I‘ll leave you like this.“

With that he fucked you hard and fast against the wall, hips mercilessly pounding into you. His pubic bone was dragging against you clit, lips on the sweet spot on your neck.

„Fuck want to feel you deeper“, Regulus groaned, pulling out to sit on the ground.

„Sit on my cock“

You nearly came with those words alone, his raspy voice making you weak as you positioned yourself above his cock. Pulling you down hard by your shoulders, he held you down, fucking up into your cunt. Your eyes rolled back, no spund escaping your lips as you could only hold on for dear life. Pushing you on your back he put your legs on his shoulders and that position did for you. He was so deep that the tip of his cock pressed against your sweet spot with every thrust.

„Reg- ah please please please mor- Regulus!“

Thats all you could say. Your hands gripped his biceps as you mewled and whimpered. „Regulusregulusreg- please please wanna cum!“

Your broken cries made him go harder, sweat forming on his forehead and he leaned all the way forward until your knees were resting on the floor beside your ears.

„Hold it little girl.“

You sobbed, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you neared your climax with every push of his hips.

He was moaning too now, biceps flexing with the effort of keeping himself up and his cock twitched inside of you, veins rubbing against your walls.

„So full so full please“, you begged, „too much plea-“

„Cum then slut“, Regulus sneered, voice breaking as well now, „show me that I broke you!“

With his hand on your clit and cock deep in your pussy you came hard, squeezing him so tight he came only seconds later inside of you.

„God, yes take my cum...fuuuck.“ His voice was only a whisper against your ear, as he kept grinding and fucking you slowly. As if to make sure that his cum got everywhere.

„Don‘t you ever test my patience again, little one. Next time I‘ll make them watch.“

#regulus black smut #regulus black #regulus x you

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Kai Parker smut

stuck in 1903

kai parker x reader / masterlist

summary; being trapped in the prison world after sacrificing yourself to protect your friends, leads to some very embarrassing and frustrating situations / warnings; kai being an annoying lil shit, mentions of death, smut, possessiveness, imprisonment,

the prison world, perhaps it would have been slightly peaceful if an entrapped witch was not following your every move like an obsessed ghost. he was relentless, stalking his threatening footsteps after your own, prowling for a manner of attention.

“if you stop this whole, ‘let’s walk in y/n’s shadow’ charade, i will have sex with you. can we pursue a deal concerning the matter?” instantly, the witch muted his movements, gripping onto the side of the aisle shelf as he studied you, searching to see if your prospectus contained serious regard.

once he had come to a conclusion, he raised his eyebrows. kai had tried his darnest to keep you contained in that house that he likened to call a home. there was something he didn’t wish for you to discover, he was keeping you isolated from everything within the empty world that his family had banished him to.

that made you think, that it was possible, that perhaps other souls had entered the enclosure of this world, and that was why you were seeking, in the hopes of providing yourself with the comfort that you weren’t alone in this cursed nation with the one, and the only, to your misfortune, kai parker.

there wasn’t much that you knew about him, he was a practical talker, rather than a personal one. he had stocks of questions about the modern world, so that he could relish in the imagery of how much it had evolved without him. a part of you pitied him, but another worried that there was a wisp of darkness that he was hiding.

you didn’t know him, he was a stranger, and that truth made him potentially dangerous. it was safe to always remain on your toes, even if he had a habit of trailing huskily after. it gave him no chance of envisioning you as a sitting duck, every day was the same, but he was the one thing that could change that.

one tip of his mindset, and he could remember that he preferred being alone. and he could kill you, piking you on a stake, despite being human, or using his siphoning hands to drain all life out of your body. this wasn’t your first rodeo with the aftermath of death; bonnie had found a way to bring you back, her power flowed through you, keeping you logically alive, to a fault that was.

parker licked his pork rind exploited lips, collecting the dust from the treat, and bringing it into the cauldron of his mouth. the man was thinking, and that idea alone scared you. however you waited for him to persevere with whatever was unravelling in his mind, although you could have easily passed him by, finding elsewhere to seek salvation.

“is there a due date for that offer, because i’d like to take you up on it right now?” a smirk curved his mouth. perhaps not every day was the same, this was certainly going to be different, that was one thing that was for sure.

he noticed how your shoulders withered from the thought; sex in a grocery store, you had never been so filthy, and despite there being nobody around to bare witness to the sin, it still had your skin crawling. hugging your arms across your chest, you sighed, giving into his slick prompt, leaning your head down out of self disrespect.

kai couldn’t be trusted, you knew that. not for the fact that his own family had sent him here, to wallow in nothing more than the loneliness of his own company. there had to be a reason! nobody’s mother nor father would do such an act for no resolving purpose.

gulping, you finally grew the guts to adjust your gaze on him, and how he tapped his foot, silently demanding a response. “i mean it kai, we have sex, and you stop trailing after me like some stray. you got that?”

he got it. his footsteps came closer to you as he backed you into a shelf along the outer wall, enclosing you against the packets of rustling pork rinds, accidentally crushing their interior contents, as you raised your chin up, obscenely glaring at the mysterious man.

“oh, i heard every word.” he held out his pinkie finger to make a promise, and sickeningly you reached your own out, shaking on it, before he rasped his hand around your wrist, pressing a kiss upon the thin flesh. leaning down, kai attached your lips, humming contently, it had been so long since he had endured the contact of another person.

with his unoccupied hand, he slithered it down your chest, dragging his knuckles down your stomach, before he reached the tender edge of your trousers. he toyed with the band, the action making you stifle any sounds of admitted likening to his teasing; if you did, then he would only continue to do so more.

it felt like forever since you had gotten laid, a large portion of you wanted kai to take you on the spot, which it looked as though that was his intent, and that he definitely would do so. but another felt sick of yourself, these were the extents that you would go to to be left alone, and there was not exactly a plan b if he didn’t.

you wanted to obtain a way out of this place, and possibly the only chance that you had of doing so was to wander away from his ever watching eyes, and strive on your own, trying to discover any evidence of life throughout this semi detached world. you felt like a cattle, being guarded by their herder, he was protecting you from anything that could daunt your mind with realisation.

it wasn’t the fact he was protective, it was more in the terms of possessiveness. though he wanted to leave, he claimed that there was no way out, he was intent on descending your hope of uncovering an escape, from not only the ghost town of your home, but from him also.

“what to first? should i just fuck you or make you blow me?” his teeth toyed with a sly smile, as though he were trying to convince you into a conflict regarding the answer. but instead of growing a fuzzy brain, you simply glared at him, pushing his fingers out from where they had slipped under the top of your bottoms, leaving the man to be a confused mess; it was kinda cute, but for all you knew, his often sublime attitude.

“i didn’t say foreplay parker, only sex was on the table. and that will be all you’re getting, unless you want me to leave you high and dry, and find another resolve to rid myself of your attached escapades of following after me like there’s a wire attached from me to you.”

“fine.” he raised his hands in a motion of surrender, chuckling lightly to himself. “i was just testing my luck, which is clear that i don’t have.” he turned, his brows going up higher on his face as he saw a variety of boxes stacked on one of the shelves. he picked one up, reading over the scripture as you scoffed.

“i don’t think your gonna need xxl, unless you’re going to cum that much since nobody has had their hands on you for a long time. you’ve had to suffice and please yourself for how long again?”

“spicy, i like it. eh, you’re right anyways.” he tossed the box down the aisle, grasping for another like a kid in the candy store, this time it was for the variety of average sized men. kai aggressively ripped the box open, causing the contents of packets to spill all over the ground.

“are you incapable of doing anything like a grown ass man?” it was irritating just watching him fail to do ordinary everyday tasks. he was destructive, and it seemed to be a large part of his personality.

“you won’t be asking that in a minute y/n/n.” he sent you a gruelling wink, making you inherently gulp, watching as he plucked a singular condom off the ground, holding it between his teeth as he began to unbuckle his belt, starting towards you.

“whatever you say kai.” rolling your eyes at his constant cockiness, you pried open your jeans, dropping your panties to the ground, as you caught kai frozen, with a slight swab of drool bathing his bottom lip. “come on, i am waiting, so hurry your ass up before i get bored of doing so.”

“you want this as much as i do, you just won’t admit it.” he lightly sneered towards you, and you felt your body flush with composed embarrassment. perhaps you had thought about the ordeal a little during the time you had been there, but there had to be some excuse! he was the only guy in a worldwide radius, that was a reasonable enough purpose.

when he was rid of apparel on his lower half, he rolled the protection onto his length, as he pinned you completely flush against the shelves of the aisle, one of his hands cupping your ass, before he helped you clamber into his arms, as he held your weight up.

you wrapped your legs expertly around his waist, biting your lip as he ran the tip of his cock against your clit, and then pushed into your walls, his moans reverberating erotically along the column of your throat, as he trailed his lips against your tender flesh.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he uttered as he began to thrust. it had been a long time since kai had endured any physical contact, let alone like this. the siphon was relishing in it, slipping his cock in and out of your folds as though that was his lifelong purpose.

for the first time in many years, he no longer felt trapped, he had inched into a small paving of freedom, all because he was inherent not to leave you to abandon alone. you too were also caught up in the web of pleasure, you didn’t here two specific sets of footsteps enter the store, searching for the witch that had claimed that he knew of a route out of this subordinate hell.

they had survived the enduring loss of their own freedom, being sucked from the force of a collapsing vacuum into this lonesome reality. the other side had fallen, and so had their jaws, as they saw kai not only having sex, but with you, their lost friend whom had given her life to previously save them from complicated doom.

bonnie felt borderline disgusted as she watched you shut your eyes and try to bounce yourself on the man’s cock, whilst damon was specifically disappointed. your hands rasped around his shoulders, though their grip tightened as your name was called.

as you turned and saw your friends, it all suddenly made sense. from kai’s behaviour, to his lack of inclination to leave you alone, it was clear that he was hiding you from them and vice versa. “bonnie, damon!” you gasped, unsure of how you were supposed to compose yourself throughout this predicament.

“yes, bon bon, damey.” kai mocked with a roll of his eyes, as he remained still to his own dismay. “could you maybe give us five minutes, we kinda weren’t done here. just let us finish, and- ow!” you slapped the side of his face, scrambling to situate yourself out of his menacing grip.

with downturned eyes, you hastily pulled your clothes back up into place, glaring at the siphon. “you knew didn’t you? you knew that these were my friends and you purposely made sure i was distanced from them!” you growled at kai, your eyes fluttering with disregard for the imprisoned magician.

“well if i had, then you’d be less inclined to spend time with me, and this, would never have happened.” his fingers pried at pointing between the pair of you, amusedly he would say, though you would think otherwise. “welcome to 1903 baby! the world of lies and disgrace.”

“you’re the disgrace, you killed your own family, your younger siblings.” bonnie spoke, and her words made you feel physically sick. “get away from him y/n.” you followed her command, rushing over to her and damon, with shock established in your eyes. you had just fucked a sociopath.

“well, i guess that the jig is up.” he shrugged as he conformed his own clothes to be put in place. the fact that you still felt a rouse to finish what you started made you feel disgusted with yourself, though he deserved to rot here. why did the bad guys always have to be so hot? it just was not fair.

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