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cursestothemoon · 3 years

Note

hi, hope you're doing alright

could you do something with wolfstar x reader where she uses the safe word?

i love your writing btw

Our Good Girl

S.O.B. X FEM!READER X R.J.L.

polyamorous relationship

17+ IF YOU ARE TAGGED AND DON’T WANT TO BE TAGGED IN SMUT PLEASE LET ME KNOW

warnings: smut, vaginal penetration, oral (male and female receiving), degradation, humiliation, choking, spanking, USE OF SAFE WORD, dom!Sirius(maybe kinda switch!) and Dom!Remus/sub!reader, daddy kink because why not, spitting, UNEDITED (im sorry✋🏻)

Your quill tapped ceaselessly on the black walnut wood of the desks that filled Slughorn’s classroom. Sirius sat next to you, your partner since the beginning of the year and your boyfriend for a year and a half, had a firm grip on your upper thigh. His breathing was shallow and back incredibly straight as he sat in his seat without sparing you as much as a glance. You had made him mad, at least you assume you had, he came into class with a look of dominance and you knew better than to question him when he was like that. A short ‘You are to follow me after class’ was the only thing he had uttered to you since the start of the lesson, nearly an hour ago.

“Alright everyone, you are to turn in your essays, no shorter than one and a half scrolls, by...let’s say Monday. Use the extra time wisely.” Slughorn dismissed the class after his reminding of the homework.

Sirius was quick to slip his hand into your own, grabbing both your book bags and throwing them over his shoulder as he ushered you out of the classroom.

“Remus and I have agreed you are to be punished, Moony’s probably already waiting for us in the dorm.”

You bit the corner of your lip before speaking up, “But I haven’t done anything bad.”

Sirius smirked as he stopped walking, turning to you with a glint in his eye, “Does Daddy need a reason to make sure his brat knows her place?”

The rasp in his low voice, his thumb tracing your cheekbone so lovingly juxtaposing the harsh, teasing tone of his words made arousal pool in your panties.

“No, Daddy.” You mumbled, slipping your hand back into his as he started walking again.

Without turning to look at you Sirius smiled, “Good girl.”

The rest of the way to the boys’ dorm was silent, Sirius just a few steps ahead of you at all times with his hand tugging yours just slightly. The door, a worn light wood, of the familiar dorm was being pushed open to reveal Remus sitting on his bed, belt in hand. His eyes turned toward you and Sirius as you entered the room, a stern look falling onto you.

“What did she do?” The question was directed to Sirius but his eyes trained on you.

Sirius shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant as he removed his tie, “Nothing, just think she needs some reminding.”

His mind was else where as he spoke making you silently wonder, had you done something?

Remus seemed to ask himself the same question as his brow furrowed slightly in your direction when Sirius wasn’t paying attention. You bit your lip again and averted your gaze to the floor making Remus stand and approach you.

His thumb came up to pull your lip from between your teeth, “Good bunny’s don’t shred their lips, you know Daddy doesn’t like it when you do that.”

You nodded, meeting his honey touched eyes as you spoke, “M’sorry, Daddy.”

“M’sorry, Daddy.” Sirius mocked, coming up to the two of you.

He placed a longing kiss on Remus’ lips, knowing the lack of attention would have you whining. He was right, breathy whines were leaving your parted lips in no time as you watched your boyfriends slip into a passionate kiss while you were left to watch. You were tempted to reach your hand down and relieve the aching of your throbbing clit with your own fingers, give Sirius an actual reason to punish you, but he seemed rather testy already.

“Is puppy getting needy all by her lonesome?” Sirius asked teasingly after he pulled away from Remus’ lips.

You gave a feeble nod as your hands fiddled with each other.

The raven haired boy sighed, as if this was talking a toll on him, “Alright, clothes off and over my knee.”

He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, taking Remus’ belt that had been left there by the lycanthrope mere minutes ago. Sirius ran the leather across his palm, it was still warm from being wrapped around one of his lovers’ hips.

Again, Sirius seemed to lose himself in the act, his jaw tense and knee bouncing making you strip faster. Something was bothering him, and suddenly the impromptu punishment was making more sense. You were always eager to help him blow off some steam, so you made sure to be the good girl you knew you were, his and Remy’s good girl.

You draped yourself over Sirius’ lap elegantly, the mere thought of helping him through his frustrations had you clenching your thighs. You were always eager to help your daddies.

Remus was making quick work of ridding himself of his trousers and briefs. He was semi-hard already, jerking himself off as he walked closer you and Sirius.

“Open up, puppy.” Remus instructed as he tapped the tip 0f hi cock on your lips.

He pushed past your parted lips, the warmth of your mouth making him let out a breath that turned into a low hum as you started to suck on his spongey head. Remus’ thrusts into your mouth were slow and hard, his hand petting your head gently- his dominance was something he embodied, and rarely ever had to prove.

“You aren't to stop sucking Moony.” Sirius warned as he ran a hand across your ass, landing a soft smack just to see the skin ripple deliciously.

You barely had any time to prepare yourself before you felt the harsh lick of the leather belt on the sensitive skin of your backside. His blows were quick- if he had asked you to count you would’ve struggled- and precise. The first few had an erotic sting to them, making you moan around Remus’ prick in your mouth, but as the belt returned to your skin it got firmer, the pain soon overtaking the pleasure. Sirius lost himself in the action, his mind seemingly glazing over the fact that you were on the receiving end of his brutal whips. His jaw was tensing again and Remus had half a mind to pull you away from him because this had to be painful, but you knew your safe word- if it was too much you’d tap his thigh three times and say your safe word- you showed no signs of displeasure so he went along with it.

In your impending submissive haze, pleasing Sirius was the main focus on your mind and the pain was a small price to pay for your Daddy to not be mad anymore. You lost your rhythm as you tried your best to bob your head along Remus, his cock triggering your gag reflex now making you audibly choke.

With perfect timing, Remus pulled you off himself as Sirius gave the last few blows to your backside. You were then shoved onto the bed harshly by the raven haired Gryffindor, the sheets rubbing against the raw skin of your ass making you wince quietly.

Remus, in an attempt to balance the pain and pleasure , knelt down in front of your bare cunt. He started to rub slow circles with his thumb on your throbbing clit.

“Our good girl is absolutely drenched Pads, here have a taste.” He offered, fingers dipping down to run up your slit and collect your juices before holding his hand up for Sirius.

Sirius wasted in time in wrapping his lips around the waiting digits, cleaning them of your arousal. The sight made you squirm, it was beyond intimate and had your walls clenching. With a pop, Remus removed his fingers from Sirius mouth and placed them back on your needy pussy. The two fingers running up and down your folds before entering your tight hole, his lips attaching to your clit with wanton fervor.

You knew your rules, Remus made sure of it, so your hands stayed by your sides resisting the urge to card through and pull the warm chocolate strands of his hair. Breathy moans were emitted from your lips at first, before they grew louder and stronger that had Sirius casting a silencing charm on the room. He then busied himself with stripping himself of his remaining clothes before situating himself near your torso, his hand coming up to tug and tweak your pert nipples, pulling more and more moans out of you.

Remus fingers sped up as did his tongue bringing you closer to the edge, your hips and thighs trembling letting both boys know you were close.

“Hold it you fucking brat. If you cum, you’re cuming around my cock.” Sirius spat, delivering a harsh slap to your sensitive nipple.

The request made you whine but you did as you were told, you wanted to make your Daddy happy. Remus continued his torment, lapping at your cunt knowing you’d never be allowed to finish like this. He gave a few more broad licks before pulling away making you cry out and pulling Sirius closer by the back of his neck and connecting their lips. The kiss was short and messy, Remus pulling away to land a smack to his boyfriend’s face before forcing his jaw open and spitting onto his tongue. The taste was intoxicating, both you and Remus intermingled beautifully- Sirius wanted nothing more than to swallow it, so he did.

The lycanthrope moved aside so Sirius could have his way with you. The aforementioned was grabbing his tie, and turning you over onto your belly so he could have access to your wrists. Remus moved to sit in front of you on the bed, his legs spread in a straddle and his painfully hard prick nearly touching your face. He slowly jerked himself off as Sirius knotted his tie around your wrists skillfully- the harder he tugged the tighter they got.

Your hips were then pulled up, your back arched, and face shoved into the sheets before Sirius pulled you up by the restraints on your wrists. The counterweight of your body on the restraints had it impossibly tight, making the tips of your fingers go cold from the loss of circulation. Without time for adjustment, Sirius was pounding into from behind and Remus fisting himself to match pace with the boy’s thrusts.

The first few thrusts were enjoyable, the head of his cock hitting the spot inside you that you seeing stars instantly, and the sight of precum leaking from the appetizing sight of Remus Lupin’s dick right in front of you. But the soon the painful grinding of your wrists along with the loss of circulation in your fingers and painful slapping of Sirius’ skin against the red, raw skin of your backside had tears welling in your eyes- any pleasure was gone.

Remus seemed to notice your change in mood, his hand slowing on his shaft as his eyebrows knit together softly- something wasn’t right.

Sirius had lost himself again, jaw clenched, eyes trained somewhere else in the room which was unusual in itself- Sirius was always present during sex.

Before Remus could say anything, it was your heartbreaking cry that cut him off.

“Red! Red! Please, stop!”

Your mind straddled the dangerous fog of subspace and...something else. You felt vulnerable, embarrassed, and afraid you had disappointed your daddies.

Remus was quick to reach over and pull your wrists from Sirius’ grasp, untying his reed and gold tie, before pulling you into his lap as your sobs grew heavier. Sirius seemed to freeze, the safe word being called out with such a pleading and desperate tone had snapped him back to reality in lightning speed.

“Shh, it’s all ok, love, y’wanna tell Remy and Siri what happened?” Remus cooed, voice gentle as you hid your face in his neck to find some sort of shelter.

You sniffled, “Jus’ hurt a lot, didn’t feel nice.”

His hand came up to brush your hair away from your face, “Can you tell us what didn’t feel nice, so we know not to do it again?”

“Spankings were too hard, when Siri’s skin was touching mine it hurt, an-and the ties were too tight, m’finger were getting cold...” You words came out slow and mumbled, every few broken by a hiccup or sniffle.

“Oh, puppy...”

You recognized the voice as Sirius’ making you turn to look at him. The tears freely flowing down his cheeks made a fresh wall of your own tears build and you started to blubber again.

“M’sorry, I didn’t mean to be bad, promise.” You cried as Sirius slowly climbed up onto the bed, his movements slow and cautious.

He was worried you’d hate him, that you’d never look at him the same. Sirius hated himself for not recognizing your boundaries and for taking his anger out on you in such a way.

The way you were apologizing, as if you were at fault, pulled at his heartstrings more as he pulled you into his chest. You gladly wrapped yourself around his body, his arms encircling you. Remus looked up, into Sirius’ eyes, and could see the guilt that was eating him alive, it was eating at Remus too.

“You did nothing wrong, love. I’m so proud of you for using your safe word when it didn't feel nice, and I’m so sorry, I made you feel like that, baby.”

You felt Remus place his hand on your back, scooting in to wrap his arms around both of you, “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you weren’t enjoying it, darling.”

It was after a few beats with your head in Sirius’ neck, and your hand holding one of Remus’ thumbs that you spoke up again.

“S’not your fault, it’s ok.”

Sirius shook his head, “No, I was in a foul mood because of a run in with Snivellus, and I tried to use you to work through my anger, as if you weren’t a good girl, my good puppy. Forgive me, Y/n.”

“I forgive you, Siri.” You placed a soft kiss on the underside of his jaw before leaning over to pull Remus into a kiss.

After breaking away Remus suggested, “How about we get some clothes on, and cuddle. Our good girl needs a nap, yeah?”

You feebly nodded making Remus stand up and bring over a shirt of Sirius’ to pull over your head and a pair of his own boxers for you to wear. Sirius helped you into the boxers, folding the waistband so they clung onto your hips better, before getting up himself to put his own underwear on- his hard-on being an issue of the past seeing as the self hatred that plagued him seeing your state did absolutely nothing to arouse him. Remus also pulled on his own pair of plaid boxers.

Soon you three were all laying in Remus’ bed, you sandwiched in the middle of your two boyfriends. Remus had an arm reached around you and Sirius, rubbing soft circles on the boy’s shoulder blade. Sirius had his hand resting on the side of your face- you were turned toward him- his fingers running along the skin as you were slipping into a peaceful sleep. The last thing you could remember was Remus pressing a loving kiss onto the crown of your head and your thumb running across the soft skin of his exposed hip behind you.

tags:

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@erinblack003

@maybesandohnos

@edithsvoice

@msmb

@maybesandohnos

#Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #wolfstar x reader #sirius black imagine #remus lupin imagine #wolfstar smut #sirius black smut #remus lupin smut

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feelin-woozy · 3 years

Text

Title: I'm Your Man

Word Count: 2,562

Pairing: Danny Johnson x GN reader

Warnings: Gunplay, referenced knife play, very toxic relationships, impact play, some violent imagery and threats of violence, under negotiated kinks. They making love but they're being freaks abt it,,,,, making love in a rly fucked up way.

[AO3 LINK]

What you're doing is stupid, it’s dangerous, it’s audacious, it’s a million other adjectives that display your sheer stupidity, but most notably, it’s exhilarating. It makes your thighs quake, and your breath catch in your throat. Even when you have the upper hand, something about Danny never fails to deconstruct you to your more baser desires. And you know it’s not just you who feels this; as much as he loathes to admit it, you did something to him as well. It’s how you got him in this position in the first place.

Danny stares up at you, strands of blonde hair falling into his face and making his nose crinkle. There’s a murderous look swimming within his blue irises, like the moment you let your guard down, he will take matters into his own hands. To reaffirm that he is the one who holds power, not you, never you. To mold you back into that subservient little thing he’s worked too hard to force you into, but then there’s this spark within his eyes that overshadows the dark intent. It’s the look of how you feel, pure exhilaration.

His sharp cheeks are dusted with pale pink, jaw clenched till veins pop along his neck, and you can hear his teeth gnash together. In the dim lighting of the room, he looks dangerous, sharp edges highlighted by the way shadows dance over your face. It excites you all that much more, a true testament to how utterly fucked you were.

“I got a surprise for you,” You swivel your hips, leaning down to drag kisses along his jaw, the stubble catching along the soft skin of your lips. Despite the way his body tenses, his hips still involuntarily rock up into you, his cock throbbing. You lean back and smile at him before you pull off of him with a wet squelch. His cock bobs, the flushed skin shining with the remnants of lube.

Your legs wobble for a moment as you straighten yourself, the chilled floorboards creaking under your weight. You stumble over the clothing that litters the floor, your barefoot catching in the leg of tartan printed briefs. You kick it off to the side, clearing your path to the dresser across the room.

You feel his eyes on you as you walk away, and the air shifts around you. It becomes dense, and with each step you take, it feels as though you’re walking through jelly and over eggshells. You don’t let it deter you; you can’t. You were too far into this to back down. It would only reaffirm that you were nothing more than self-abasing, a toy that he could toss aside when he grew bored. You needed him to know you were more than that, that you were an integral part of his being. That throwing you away would be the same as throwing a few pieces of the jigsaw away, leaving him incomplete.

You rummage through the drawer of your shared dresser, careful not to crease the carefully folded dress shirts within. Spindly fingers wrap around the cool metal. Upon contact, you feel a sudden rush. Power swelling within your chest like an over filled balloon. It’s nearly suffocating as it scrapes along your ribcage, and you find it difficult to determine if you like the feeling. If you liked the side that Danny dragged out of you in the name of love.

Turning around, you look at him with as much of a neutral expression as you can muster. Trying not to convey fear or excitement to feed into his reaction. Your eyes carefully rove over his face.

Danny’s lips part slightly, and there’s something new within his eyes. Fear maybe? No, it was closer to indignation.

“Gunna kill me, baby?” He speaks with a sharp rasp, words dripping with equal parts venom and arousal. His brows knit together, a deep groove forming along his forehead as he stares at you with a narrowed gaze. You watch him try and get a read on you, trying to determine if this was how he’d meet his bitter end if he’d finally pushed just a little too hard and sent you tumbling down into madness like Alice down the rabbit hole. He settles his nerves, letting his words wash over you coldly. “I’m hurt you’d use a gun for it, after all we’ve been through together and you chose something so… Impersonal..”

You’re not sure what he’s trying to accomplish in saying this. Was he trying to goad you on? Send you into an uncontrolled frenzy that he could redirect to gain control? Was he trying to scare you? To make your hands tremble and quickly fumble with the zip ties that dug into the flesh of his wrists, constraining him to the wooden dining chair. Did he want you groveling at his feet and begging for forgiveness that he likely wouldn’t be kind enough to bestow? That one felt like a safe bet.

“No, I need you.” You let the words drip off your tongue like honey, lips twisting into a smirk as his hips buck up into nothing and his jaw goes slack. You walk back to him and situate yourself within his lap once more. Using the hand not wrapped around the grip of the gun, you position him carefully before sinking down onto him once more in a quick sudden motion.

The two of you moan, the sound melding together into something harmonious and beautiful. His arms flex against where they’re restrained, muscles rippling below pale skin. You know he must be going near crazy being unable to touch you, to have his way with you. To tear into you like a soft peach and have your juices messily dripping down his chin as he devours you.

“I love you,” You murmur, carefully dragging the barrel of the gun down along his jaw. His head tips back, letting you move the gun freely as a shaky exhale passes through his lips.

“Is it loaded?” Danny breathes, hips mindlessly rocking up into you in a steady rhythm. If it didn’t feel so good, you likely would have chastised him for doing so. After all, you were in charge. But you knew you were already toeing the line of what you could get away with; it was better to pick your battles than to face his wrath.

“Wanna find out?” You hook your index over the trigger as you drag the barrel carefully and nudge it against his lips. There’s a brief moment of hesitation before they part, and he slowly lets you force the pistol past. The two of you lock eyes for a moment, and you watch the way his tongue glides along the underside of the slide, taking the gun in till lips meet the trigger guard. “It is. Could blow your brains out right now if I wanted to.”

He moans at that, hips bucking up in a way that has you jolting, knocking the gun within his mouth and making him gag. A part of you expects anger to flood his face, for him to pull back and spit out the safeword, but if anything, it spurs him on more. Eyes closing as his cheeks hollow.

“You look so good like this, baby.” You whisper, raising yourself carefully before dropping once more and impaling yourself on his cock. You move at a leisurely pace, not entirely chasing your pleasure and more so fixated on the sight of him sucking on the barrel of the pistol like his life depended on it. And to some extent, it did; the looming threat, the implication that his brains could paint the wall behind you only served to turn the air heady with dangerous electricity. Danny didn’t seem to mind all that much at this moment, not with the way he bobs his head hastily, mindless bliss curling over his features and smoothing his brow.

You pull the gun out, making a note of how the color on his cheeks has deepened into a dark red. His pupils are blown till the blue no longer exists. His lips are slicked shiny with spit, and his chest rises and falls rapidly. “Gunna fuck me now? Done playin’ your little game?”

“Can I hit you?” A sliver of your usual timidness sneaks its way in, making your words falter enough that the glimpse of a predator can be seen in his eyes once more. He remains silent for a moment, letting your request roll around within his mind. You rock your hips, rolling yourself deeper on his cock and allowing an obscene little noise to tumble past your lips. “Please?”

“Fuck.” He grits his teeth, head tipping back as he soaks up the feeling of your walls clinging to his cock. After a moment, he looks at you once more, that dangerous look within his eyes that told you to tread lightly. “You’re getting too comfortable with this, babe.”

“You can carve me up real good next time,” You promise him, the words tumbling out almost desperately. His lips quirk slightly into a curve as you lean down, peppering the column of his throat in kisses and bites. You drag your nose along the curve of his neck affectionately, inhaling the scent of cigarettes, aftershave, and cologne and allowing it to wash over you like a blanket fresh from the dryer.

“Fine.” He lets out a sigh, trying his damndest to sound like this was more of a favor to you than it was exciting for him. You watch the way his face melts. An almost soft look crossing his features when your face lights up with the sudden excitement. “Be fuckin’ careful though.”

You let out a hum, moving from his neck to his face to capture his lips in a frantic kiss as you bounce eagerly on his cock. He meets your unbridled passion with his own, teeth sinking into your lower lip brutally till the taste of copper fills your mouth, and sticky warmth dribbles down the curve of your lip. You draw back, fingers curling around the grip of the gun in a firm grip.

Before he has any time to prepare himself, to think twice and go back on his word, you raise your arm before swiftly bringing it down with careful precision. A loud crack can be heard as the butt of the gun collides with the side of his face. His body thrashes, arms pulling uselessly against his restraints as his heels dig into the wood below. It makes the feelings of power wash over you once more in a torrential downpour, drowning you with the force of it and how it so thoroughly saturated your nerves and set fire to them.

The guttural moan that leaves his lips reverberates through his chest, and it catches you slightly off guard. You should have expected it, really; it wasn’t shocking that something like this was making Danny’s cock throb within you or having butterflies dancing within his stomach. You catch a dazed expression plastered over his face as his head lolls back on his shoulders. Unconsciously, you grip the gun again, finger curling over the trigger. As if waiting for him to lash out, to give you an excuse to fill his body with holes. Not that you could, the thought made your mouth taste of decay, and when he lifts his head and locks eyes with you, it only solidifies that you couldn’t do it.

There’s something beautiful about the way Danny looks with a busted visage. An angry medley of reds and purples has already begun to bloom over the right side of his face, the skin splitting and dripping with thick rivulets of red. It’s angelic, and you almost want to ruin this moment by asking to take a photo.

Your lips part, and a shaky exhale rattles through your diaphragm. You toss the gun aside, not bothering to flick the safety. All you do is pray it won’t discharge in a cruel stroke of misfortune. It bounces on the bed twice before settling without any issues.

One hand comes to cradle his face, fingertips pressing into the tender flesh as your lips meet his in a ravenous and all-consuming kiss. The way he winces under your touch momentarily before kissing you back makes your heartbeat a little faster, and you can’t stop the way you tighten around him like a vice.

“You’re fucking insane,” The words are panted out between kisses; they shake and fall so deliciously close to unhinged. “Like hurting me baby? Rile you up?” The comments are rambling, a true tell that he was just as delirious on pleasure as you were. You nod your head eagerly, the hand not on his face gripping into his shoulder as the two of you set a brutal tempo, the sound of your skin meeting echoing obscenely off the walls of the bedroom. “Should bring you with me one day, let you gut someone. Bet you’d look so fuckin’ sexy covered in someone’s blood.”

The proposition has you crying out, teetering so close to your release. It tears out a hysteric laugh from Danny, his hips faltering and becoming jerky and erratic.

One more thrust is all it takes for you to let a myriad of indiscernible noises, some sounding damn near inhuman as your orgasm, overtakes you. The force of it, the way your muscles tremble and you clench around him, drags him down just as violently. A cry of your name rips through the air, and you feel the way his cock throbs, painting your insides.

“You’re perfect.” Danny concludes with a wheeze as you slump forward. Your bones feel gelatinous, and you don’t want to move from where you were. Wanting to forever be suspended at this moment where you and Danny are so intimately connected. You feel the gentle dragging of his lips against the side of your head, the action so tender and only feeding into your desire to remain. “Need you to cut me free, baby.”

The way he speaks is commanding, and you know better than to ignore it for your own selfish means. Especially after something like this, you know you need to willingly hand the power back to him to soothe wounded egos and dark thoughts of losing control over you. So with a whine, you pull off of him. The wet noise that rings through the air as you pull, accompanied by the slow drip of sticky, viscous fluid down your thighs, makes your face scrunch up slightly.

Danny laughs fondly at you for it, watching you bumble around the room on shaky legs while you grab a pair of scissors before returning to cut free where each wrist was restrained to the back of the chair. You watch as he rolls his shoulders, trying to work out the stiffness that crept into the muscles and joints before he rubs at the red indentations that mar his wrists—another mark of imperfection that sends a strike of lighting through your nervous system.

You reach down, fingers carefully encircling his wrists as you drag the limb up to meet your lips. You press a gentle kiss into the angry red mark, smiling softly as you look at him. “Could never leave you, Danny.”

“Yeah. I know.”

#The name sake is leonard cohen pls listen 2 the song its bomb #Danny Johnson x Reader #Jed Olsen x reader #Danny Johnson x you #Jed Olsen x you #dbd danny johnson #dbd jed olsen #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dbd x reader #slasher x reader #slasher x you #danny johnson #jed olsen #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #my writing

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viridwns · 3 years

Text

Chuuya x GN! Reader

Time: present

Paring: Chuuya nakahara x GN!reader

Characters: Chuuya nakahara from BSD

Warnings: angst to fluff, slight metion of rape, almost being abused, mentions of death, mentions of divorce.

It was 2 AM and he still wasn't home.

He promised he would be home early this time and you were foolish to believe him. How many times had he made that promise? And how many times did he broke that promise?

The door to the fancy apartment opened. A man with a fedora on his head walked in. His shoulders slumped forward and his eyes almost shutting close.

"Where were you?"

A voice that came from the couch asked him.

"I cannot do this right now y/n. Just let me rest." A tired frown settled upon the man's face as he threw his coat over a kitchen chair.

"Oh you can't do this right now? I've been waiting for 4 hours for you to come home."

The voice wasn't angry. It sounded disappointed and tired.

"I know and i'm sorry okay. The mission didn't go as planned and we had to-." Before he could finish his sentence the figure that was once in the couch now stood before him. A disappointed and angry scowl on their face.

"Let me guess you had to put yourself in danger to finish that damn mission."

A frustrated sigh left the man's lips. He knew exactly where this conversation would lead too.

"Y/n please. I'm fine and tired. Let's go to bed and talk about this tomorrow."

He tried reaching for the persons hands, but they took a step back.

"For how long are you going to postpone this conversation?! I can't do this anymore! Waiting for you to come home. Only to find out you are on the brink of death every time you're send on a mission Chuuya!"

Tears fell down y/n's cheeks. It's been to much for them. Everyday they had to wait in anticipation if their husband would come home that night.

"It's my job y/n, you know that. You chose to live with me knowing the dangers of my job."

Chuuya pinched the bridge of his nose. Being too drained and tired to even yell back.

Y/n just stood there staring at their husband with disbelief in their eyes.

"Well maybe we should get divorced then. I'm done waiting up late and worrying for you. I'm done arguing every week over the same goddamn thing."

Shock spread over the ginger man's face. He was annoyed, tired and in pain from all the blows he had taken. Maybe that's why he said things he didn't meant to say.

"If that's what you want fine. I don't care. I just wanna go to sleep. I'm tired of you acting like the victim here." He quickly realized what he said and guilt immediately took over him.

"Wait y/n that's not-."

"No it's okay. I was the one who proposed it. I'll call my lawer tomorrow. You can have the bed. I'm going for a walk." A dark expression was laced on y/n's face. Tears still streaming across their face. They grabbed their coat and shoes. Standing in the doorway they said: "Don't wait up for me."

And with that the door closed behind them.

Chuuya threw a mug that was standing on the counter against the wall. He really fucked up. Sitting on a kitchen chair with his face in his hands. Not knowing what to do he unconsciously called one of his closest friends.

"Hey chuuya. Why are you calling so late at night? Shouldn't you go to sleep?" A female voice sounded from the cellphone in his hands

His voice shaky and tears threatening to fall he answered. "I really fucked up this time Ane-san."

The wind howling around you, you hugged your coat closer to you. Wishing you had on something warmer. The streets of Yokohama were quiet. Only a few cars occasionally passing by. It wasn't surprising seeing how late it was and how most people would be sleeping right now. Replaying the argument in your head. You regretted every single thing you had said. Fresh tears started streaming over your cheeks again. The old tear staines not even being gone yet.

You told him not to wait up, but you secretly hoped that he would. That you could just run back and tell him you were sorry and hug him, but you didn't. It was always you who apologized first. It was always you who came back to him. You wanted him to feel as hurt as you were right now. It sounds cruel yes, but you just couldn't bare it anymore.

Another wind flag hit your face and you almost lost balance. The universe really had it out for you right now.

The wind was so loud that you couldn't even hear your own footsteps. Or even the extra pair of footsteps behind you.

"Damn who's calling me this late." You muttered at yourself as you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket.

Pulling out your phone you hoped deep down it was chuuya's contact name on the screen, but when you looked at your screen a person you didn't expect was calling you.

"Is there something wrong? Why are you calling me this late Kōyō."

"Chuuya told me what happend. He didn't tell me to call you. I just want to hear if you're okay."

You halted your steps as you let the words sink in. This was so typical of her. She always looked out for you and Chuuya. Adoring the relationship between the two of you. She was the person you would turn to if you had troubles or just needed some company.

"I'm....i'm not okay. I'm just so angry and..and-."

You started full on sobbing. Everything hitting you at once. A reassuring voice at the other side of the line calming you.

"Hey, hey it's okay. Calm down. I know chuuya can be a total ass. How about you come to my place and drink a cup of tea yeah? Tell me where you are."

Calming your breath and slowly speaking.

"I'm on (random street name). Just a few blocks away from your house-."

Before you could finish your sentence a pair of hands grabbed your mouth and you felt a cold metal thing against your head. You dropped your phone and struggled to get out of this strangers grip.

"Move one more muscel and i'll shoot you through that pretty little head of yours" a deep man's voice said. His breath smelled like sigarettes and you had to try your best to not gag. Stopping your movements, the man dragged you to a nearby ally. Tying your limbs together and propping you against the wall the man spoke again, eyeing your body. "Aren't you just a pretty little thing. Maybe we can have a little fun before i deliver you to my boss aye". He winked at you. Disgust being clear on your face. "Go die in a hole you bastard." You bit back at him.

The man's flirty look turned into a scowl. Standing up from his crouching position he dialed something on his phone. "I got them boss. Nakahara y/n, married too NakaharaChuuya. The port mafia executive."

Your eyes widened in shock. He was planning on using you as bait.

"I'm not married to anyone. I don't even know who this chuuya person is!" Giving the man a dead glare. Hoping he wouldn't see though your lie.

"Don't act dumb with me. We've been tailing you and your little husband for weeks now. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to kidnap you and use you as bait." A grin settled on his face as you looked away from him. "Go fuck yourself." You spat at him. He put his phone away. "Can you shut up!" The man raised his hand. You turned away from him ready to receive a smack, but the inpact never came. Looking at the man again tears brimmed at your eyes at the sight of your husband holding the mans hand. "That's no way to treat a person now is it." An angry scowl was present on his face. The man tried to shoot at him, but the bullet didn't even as much as graze him.

"You should learn to keep your hands of something that isn't yours." You closed your eyes knowing what was about to happen. Only hearing some gruesome sounds and your husband yelling.

You opened your eyes again when you felt a gloved hand untying your limbs. You couldn't help but smile and sob. Chuuya helped you stand up.

The first question already rising in your mind.

"How did you-."

"Ane-san called me that you were taken by someone. Your phone was still on even after you dropped it."

He avoided eye contact with you when he picked you up.

"I can perfectly walk on my own Chuuya." You said trying to look into his eyes.

"Shut up. This is faster."

He carried you to his pink motorcycle. How didn't you hear this monstrous thing?

He sat you down on the behind of the motorcycle and he took place infront of you. Instinctively putting you hands around him and resting your head on his back. You were so tired and you knew he was too.

"Look Chuuya i'm sorry. The things i s-."

Being cut off for the second time by him he said.

"No y/n i'm sorry. I know you're worried and i'm deeply sorry that you have to go through that everyday. I don't want a divorce. I want to grow old with you and spend every second of my life loving you."

His voice broke although he tried to hide it from you. You knew he was tearing up. Before he started his motorcycle you grabbed his face and kissed him.

"I missed you."

You whispered as you pulled back. His eyes finally meeting yours. "I love you so so much." You said while stroking his hair.

"I love you too y/n." He said before reuniting his lips with yours again and driving off to your shared home.

Your head buried in his back you closed your eyes and sighed.

No matter how many times you worried over him or argued with him would change the fact that your heart belonged to him and his heart belonged to you.

----

I'm so in love with this man help.

#chuuya fluff #chuuya headcanons #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya x y/n #x y/n #chuuya nakahara #bsd fluff #bsd headcanons #bsd x y/n #bsd x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara x you #bsd angst #chuuya angst #×fics

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zintranslations · 3 years

Text

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 123

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 123: The Second Sacrifice

What happened the night before, nobody knew—except for Jian Qianyuan and that unfortunate dead partner of hers.

Lin Qiushi remembered that yesterday, Jian Qianyuan had also been one of the people eschewing the unpleasant taste of lunch. But sat before the same nauseating and flavored dead-fish lunch today, her odd behavior gave Lin Qiushi an unfortunate supposition. Could Jian Qianyuan have been affected by that monster as well…

Jian Qianyuan didn't care at all what the others thought. Once she finished eating, she left the dining room with a satisfied pat of her slightly distended belly. On her way out she seemed to have noticed the shocked looks everyone was sending her, and answered with a cold smile.

"The taste is actually pretty good. If you like, you should all go give it a try," she mumbled to herself.

Nobody answered her, and she shrugged in disinterest before leaving.

Lin Qiushi watched her enter a room. And when the rooms changed, Jian Qianyuan disappeared before the crowd.

The locations of the rooms kept changing; every few minutes, a new room appeared in front of the deck.

Some were lucky—people found their stuff inside the rooms and brought them out. Others not so much, never managing to find their original rooms.

Lin Qiushi, on the other hand, made a new discovery. While they were perusing the hallways, they were fortunate enough to see once more that locked room they'd discovered the day before. Only, something had changed about it. The door to that room now stood wide open, and the chain that had locked it from the inside was scattered in broken pieces all over the ground. It seemed to have been violently broken off.

"I remember this room," Lin Qiushi said. "Room 201." He looked at the door plate, thinking of the room number they'd seen yesterday. "Is there anything inside it now?"

Ruan Nanzhu stood in the doorway staring into the dark interior.

"You don't hear anything inside?" he asked.

"No," Lin Qiushi shook his head after listening for a while. He was sure he could hear nothing moving about.

"Then that thing probably left." Ruan Nanzhu approached and took a step inside, casually turning on a kerosene lamp on the table beside him.

The dim light illuminated what wasn't a terribly large room, and they got a good look at what was inside.

The room was both normal and abnormal. Normal was its furnishings, which were identical to where Lin Qiushi's group slept. Abnormal was the additional things inside the room: a bunch of fish scales.

These scales were scattered throughout the entire room, filling the space with a disgusting fishy stench. Lin Qiushi also noticed that on the floors, there was a sort of liquid—like water, but a bit more viscous—smeared all over. It was discomforting to look at.

And on the walls and furniture all around them, there were marks made by sharp claws, telling them that this indeed was the room that once held that monster prisoner.

Lin Qiushi inspected these claw marks and found them extremely deep; if those claws could do this much to hardwood flooring, then it was easy to surmise that a fragile human body for them wouldn't stand a single blow.

Gu Longming was gagging out of disgust, but Ruan Nanzhu took a napkin from his shirt and collected a few of the scales.

Though at present, they didn't know what the fish scales were for, it was better to be prepared just in case.

Lin Qiushi searched the rest of the room for other clues. Quickly, he found a man's shoe in the corner. It made Lin Qiushi think of the man who'd been eaten yesterday. Did the monster drag its prey back to its room?

As Lin Qiushi was contemplating this, Gu Longming said: "Time's almost up." The moment they came in, he'd started counting down, and there were still around ten seconds before five minutes were up.

"Let's get out of here," Ruan Nanzhu said. "This place doesn't seem to be of any more use."

Lin Qiushi agreed.

Not long after the three left that room, its location changed into another room. Lin Qiushi's expression was a bit downcast.

Ruan Nanzhu asked what was on his mind.

Lin Qiushi: "I think things might be worse than we thought."

"What do you mean?" Gu Longming asked in doubt.

"Is the monster's position truly fixed?" Lin Qiushi asked. "Or can it move around?"

Before he'd seen that room, he thought the monster's position was fixed. But upon seeing that ruined chain, he'd formulated an unfortunate hypothesis: the monster could move, and it could move throughout the entire labyrinth. Though, like the humans, it could not find the exit, all the people lost in the maze were just like food to it.

"Your guess is likely correct." Ruan Nanzhu glanced at his watch. "There are still thirteen people. That's enough to feed him for ten days."

Gu Longming forced out a laugh: "You guys are joking, right?"

Ruan Nanzhu shrugged.

"Only if you like this sort of humor."

At dinner, Lin Qiushi had thought he'd be able to see that bug-covered NPC. But the NPC didn't show. It seemed he only appeared in the dining room at lunch, and had its role refreshed consistently…

Everybody except Jian Qianyuan still ate their dinners listlessly.

When Jian Qianyuan appeared in the dining hall once more, she continued scarfing down the fish placed before her. Her unrestrained way of eating left the crowd with even less of an appetite, and they all dispersed after swallowing down some noodles.

Lin Qiushi's group was the same. Only, before leaving, Lin Qiushi took a closer look at Jian Qianyuan, wanting to see if there were any changes on her body.

To his puzzlement, Jian Qianyuan was still currently a simple human. Beyond suddenly loving fish, there was nothing odd about her.

"I'm really scared to see her become one of those things tomorrow." Gu Longming's current feelings about Jian Qianyuan were complex; he and Lin Qiushi were thinking of the same thing.

Neither Lin Qiushi nor Ruan Nanzhu spoke.

That night, Lin Qiushi wasn't getting much sleep. His mind was filled with thoughts of Jian Qianyuan, the way she was changing, and connections between all the clues.

As for Ruan Nanzhu, he'd taken out the fish scales from his pocket, set them on the table, and was currently scrutinizing them closely.

It wasn't raining tonight, and a clean bright moon hung in the sky, casting a silver glow down onto the ship deck and ocean surface. The sea wind brought with it salt and heat through the window, and the beds beneath them were lightly swaying. Had they not been in a door, the atmosphere here actually seemed a tad like a leisurely vacation.

Lin Qiushi looked out to his side. The scenery outside the window changed every five minutes.

Sometimes he could see the deck, and sometimes the stern. Sometimes it was just a black wall. The two people lying behind him seemed to be asleep already, their breathing going even. But just before Lin Qiushi fell asleep as well, he heard a peculiar sound—something was moving across the floorboards. The thing was heavy, enough to press soft creaks from the wooden planks, and it didn't seem to be wearing shoes. Lin Qiushi could even hear the quiet stick of flesh to wood.

This sound was getting closer, finally coming to a stop near their window.

Lin Qiushi held his breath. Through half-closed eyes he saw a gigantic shadow blocking the light from his window. …And Lin Qiushi smelled a wave of familiar fish rot—he knew exactly what the thing standing backlit before him was.

That giant fish-headed monster they saw last night.

It stood right outside Lin Qiushi's window, its nose twitching like it was in search of a specific scent. Lin Qiushi held his breath and didn't dare move an inch.

By moonlight, Lin Qiushi saw that thing slowly place its hands on their window, and then begin to shake the frame with those web-linked fingers.

The window wasn't strong, crunching loudly with the push. Ruan Nanzhu and Gu Longming too woke instantly from their sleep, and the first thing they saw was the giant silhouette standing outside. They could also hear that low, animalistic roaring.

Lin Qiushi thought at first that Gu Longming, fresh from a dream, would scream at the sight of this, but instead he only shuddered before pressing his voice low: "Fuck me, am I having a nightmare right now? Why is this thing at our door—"

Ruan Nanzhu was also calm, pulling out a dinner knife from his pocket that he'd stolen from the dining room.

"Maybe it discovered how tasty we looked?" he said.

Gu Longming patted at his own face and said in a tone of disbelief: "…do I look tasty?"

Ruan Nanzhu looked at him with sympathy: "I guess some monsters like extreme flavors."

Meanwhile, Lin Qiushi thoroughly applauded the enormous nerves on these two people.

The monster broke a hole in the window with a single shove, all the glass on it shattering and raining onto the floor. Then it started trying to climb in. Upon discovering the window was too small, those lumpy white eyes gave a twist, gaze falling sideways onto the wooden door.

"Fuck," Gu Longming swore. "It's not really trying to get in, is it?!"

"Looks that way." Ruan Nanzhu frowned. "Is death random then? No…No way! There’s something we’ve missed!"

As they spoke, the fishman began slamming into the door, and the already-flimsy wood quickly began to topple under its barrage. Lin Qiushi could even hear the wood beginning to splinter.

"When it rushes in, I'll hold it back while you guys escape through the window." Ruan Nanzhu's voice rang clear and calm still. "Got it, Linlin?"

"No," Lin Qiushi said. "I'm not leaving you here alone. Do not make the same mistake."

He frowned, looking very unhappy.

Ruan Nanzhu fell silent, and then sighed like he was giving up something.

"Alright, as you wish."

He handed Lin Qiushi a dinner knife.

"I'm not leaving either," Gu Longming added beside them, jittery.

Though he looked exasperated, Ruan Nanzhu didn't try to talk them out of it. He looked at his watch and said, "thirty seconds. Just hold out for thirty seconds and keep it outside—"

Lin Qiushi and Gu Longming instantly understood—after thirty seconds, the rooms would change, and once the rooms changed they would be able to leave the room, losing the monster behind them.

But these thirty seconds weren't so easy to obtain, because the fishman had already used those sharp claws of his to tear away half of the planks on the door. It seemed moments away from squeezing that scale-covered body through the crack.

Gu Longming turned around and fetched a table to blockade the door with. Ruan Nanzhu dragged the bed over as well to add to the barricade.

Watching Ruan Nanzhu, however, suddenly reminded Lin Qiushi of something. He remembered that the first thing the fishman did when it got to their window was twitch its nose, sniffing—

"Give me the scales you collected today!" Lin Qiushi yelled.

"What?" Ruan Nanzhu startled.

"The scales that you found inside the monster's room—" Lin Qiushi began to repeat loudly once more.

But luckily, Ruan Nanzhu reacted swiftly. The moment he understood Lin Qiushi's meaning he pulled a small paper pouch from his pockets and tossed it outside through a break in the window.

The scales wrapped up in the paper pouch scattered all over the hallway outside. The fishman, once intent on breaking the door down, paused with it, before going over to where the pouch was and bending down as if to pick up the scales.

Seeing this, Lin Qiushi felt some tension release. But the very next moment, once it discovered that there were only scales in the paper, the fishman let out an infuriated roar. It turned around and lunged again for where they were.

All this moving around, however, was enough to last those long thirty seconds. The fishman lunged for them, and just before it would shatter the door, their room switched position, and the fishman disappeared from in front of them.

Lin Qiushi opened the broken door in a hurry and, after making sure the fishman wasn't outside, switched into another room with Ruan Nanzhu and Gu Longming.

His worry soon became reality, because about two minutes later, that fishman once again found their room. It completely obliterated the door before throwing itself inside.

At that moment, Lin Qiushi's group was hidden in a room not far from that one, watching everything go down from the window.

The endless sounds of destruction floated over. After it was sure that its prey had gotten away, the fishman left, heavily panting. It looked as if it had a new target though—that huge mouth of its was slightly open, revealing the sharp thin teeth all crammed inside and the saliva dripping out of a corner.

The three humans hiding in the room didn't dare to make a sound, not until the fishman had gone. Then, Gu Longming let out a long exhale of relief.

"Fuck me, it was following the smell of the fish?! I really thought we were dead there!"

None of them had thought that the fish would come into such effect here. Had Lin Qiushi not reacted so quickly, the three of them might have suffered a casualty among them.

Though the fishman was gone, Ruan Nanzhu's expression had not relaxed. His solemn eyes seemed to make Gu Longming uneasy, and Gu Longming asked, "what is it? Zhu Meng?"

"I think Jian Qianyuan is about to die," Ruan Nanzhu said.

Just as Gu Longming was about to ask why, he remembered the odd developments around Jian Qianyuan during the day. She seemed to have eaten a lot of fish, enough that when she left the dining room, they could all smell that hefty rotten scent on her. If even they could smell the scent, then undoubtedly that monster could easily sniff her out too.

Sure enough, not long after the fishman left, Lin Qiushi's sharp hearing caught a woman's scream. The scream sounded quite far from then, and Lin Qiushi could only vaguely hear it. As for Gu Longming and Ruan Nanzhu, they couldn't hear it at all.

The screaming continued, accompanied by sobbing and wailing, and in the end, it petered off, leaving only hair-raising bellows and sounds of chewing.

Those sounds came from the deck. Lin Qiushi didn't want to know at all what they would find up there the next day.

Of course it would be yet another scooped-clean body, with all its innards gone, leaving only an empty skeletal frame.

It seemed that Ruan Nanzhu could tell Lin Qiushi was having a hard time sleeping. He sat down at the side of Lin Qiushi's bed and lied down with Lin Qiushi, tucking his chin against the top of Lin Qiushi's head. He kissed the strands of hair gently.

The warmth of a body against his back gave Lin Qiushi's frozen voice box a little bit of comfort, but that terrifying sound still seemed to be echoing in between Lin Qiushi's ears. He felt like he could still hear Jian Qianyuan's wailing…

"She's dead," Lin Qiushi said.

"Mh," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Go to sleep. This is normal."

"Maybe I could've figured out a way to save her," Lin Qiushi sighed.

"But you had to save yourself first." Ruan Nanzhu's fingers traversed paths through Lin Qiushi's hair. "We're still short a long sword to kill it with."

In the myth, the weapon that Theseus used to kill the Minotaur was a long sword. But they hadn't seen any weapon on the ship that could damage the fishman—dinner knives were surely a no-go.

"We found the string," Lin Qiushi said, "and we also found the aperitif." When Jian Qianyuan died, he understood what aperitif actually meant.

Ruan Nanzhu kissed the tip of Lin Qiushi's ear.

"Sleep already. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Lin Qiushi made a noise of agreement and closed his eyes.

He tried, but he didn't actually manage to sleep so well, only waited blearily until morning.

The weather wasn't good today. That thick cloud layer once again enveloped the entire sky, dim enough to scare people with.

Lin Qiushi got up early and went out onto the deck with Ruan Nanzhu and Gu Longming. None of them were surprised by the additional corpse there. Though its face was no longer discernible, the clothes told them that it was indeed Jian Qianyuan.

Her stomach had been torn open, and all the fish she'd eaten the day before was nowhere to be seen. Also gone were all her innards.

Shen Juexin, who'd already been seasick, vomited once more. Vomiting with him were a few of the weaker girls with a lower threshold of tolerance.

Lin Qiushi also spotted the girl who'd given him a heads up the other day, Xiao Mo. The erratic vibe of a newcomer had faded for her, and her expression was a lot number now, like she was already able to accept the horrifying scene before her.

Two days had passed. Jian Qianyuan was the second sacrifice to be eaten.

The group quickly took care of Jian Qianyuan's body, if "taking care" meant tossing it into the ocean and watching the fish take apart what was left of her.

"I saw that monster yesterday too." The number of people who'd seen the monster had increased, and someone was tremulously describing what happened the night before. "It passed by my door and walked to Jian Qianyuan's room. It split the door open and dragged Jian Qianyuan out…"

"It was too scary," that person said. "I couldn't help her. I'm no match for that monster."

Nobody could defeat a two-meter-tall monster. If they had some firearms, maybe they'd be able to put up a fight, but under these circumstances with only dinner knives at their disposal, nobody wanted to put their lives on the line.

Lin Qiushi was a bit tired. He found a place to sit down in the dining room and pushed the peas in his plate around.

The NPC who gave them food had also appeared, and he looked exactly the same as he did the first day Lin Qiushi saw him. Even his expression was unchanged.

Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu exchanged a look. Then Ruan Nanzhu got up first, walking toward that NPC.

"Hello sir," Ruan Nanzhu greeted him.

The NPC didn't speak, just stared coldly at Ruan Nanzhu. It was like he was a robot, and what to do when greeted by someone wasn't programmed into his system at all.

"Hello sir," Ruan Nanzhu said to him a second time.

The man still didn't respond.

With a tilt of his head, Ruan Nanzhu pushed the plate of food in front of them right to the ground. The fish inside the plates scattered all over, breaking into pieces.

"What are you doing?" the man finally spoke, sounding quite unhappy.

"I just wanted to ask," Ruan Nanzhu said, "when you're making the food, do you always bring so many insects along with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

A casual swipe got Ruan Nanzhu one of the human-faced insects buzzing in circles around the man.

"You don't?"

Seeing this, the man set down the ladle for food preparation in his hand and made to leave. But Ruan Nanzhu caught him by a shoulder.

"And where are you going?"

The man began to shake violently.

Watching from afar, Lin Qiushi first thought the man was afraid of maybe angry, but very quickly he discovered that it was neither—the man was melting.

His body was rapidly shrinking, turning from head to toe into a mass of black. This lump dispersed in the dining room with a buzz—it was a hoard of flying insects.

Everybody in the dining room was stunned by this scene, before smacking at them like crazy.

But the insects came and went quickly, disappearing from the dining room just like that. And the NPC who had been right in front of them was now only a set of empty clothing.

"Motherfucker." Gu Longming hadn't seen this coming at all, and said blankly: "This brother was a mosquito demon?"

Lin Qiushi: "…" He didn't know what to say either.

Ruan Nanzhu scratched his head and peeked at Lin Qiushi. "Does this mean there's nobody to feed us fish from now on?"

Lin Qiushi: "…seems that way."

Ruan Nanzhu lifted his palms with an innocent expression. Everybody else in the dining room however—their expressions grew complicated. Who knew what came to mind.

Ruan Nanzhu: "That's a bit of a shame, isn't it."

The group: "…" Not a shame at all, thank you.

Translator’s Note

RNZ speaks to the NPC in the polite register of “you,” lmfao

[Ch. 122] | [Ch. 124]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒

167 notes · View notes

diaco1968 · 3 years

Text

Altair x Reader

Warnings! Smut, lemon, unprotected, a bit of choking, bit of humiliation, sounds a little dub/non con in the end

Note: I just realized I've written nothing for my first and longest crush, none other than the arrogant grumpy assassin! Sorry for the slight ooc-ness, I get weird writing about him...

Also amazing art! It's thanks to this, I've been visually crushing over this man for the longest time! *^*

Artist

"Wanna blow off some steam, Assassin?"

He could still feel your hands all over him, the feeling of your touch;

Your fingers running up his abs, tracing his chest, running over his shoulders, nails lightly scraping the back of his neck before they carded through his hair finally coming to a rest in a tight demanding grip on the back of his head.

It was unlike whatever he was used to.

The girls in the garden. They just did what they were assigned to do. Though they were obedient and submissive, they didn't claw at him like they desired him.

It was unusual.

It was exhilarating.

It was wrong.

It had been one of the rare occasions where there was a brief pause in the conflict between the assassins and the templars. A moment of peace that kept you all from jumping at each other's throats while their mentors and your commanders talked out their differences for a mutually beneficial truce. And of course they both had the option of having their choice of bodyguards accompanying them.

That was how he first met you. In person and eye to eye. With a distance of less than a rooftop, even less than a swords lenght, apart.

He couldn't get it off his mind now.

You had heard of him, seen the havoc he had caused in your ranks without even being seen. And he had seen you before as you barked orders at your little pawns and cut through his less experienced brethren with no mercy.

Always from afar.

Maybe that was the reason you colided hard the moment those roles were gone and out of the way. Attracted by the differences like day and night.

So when you cornered him alone with that very suggestion you were met with little to no resistance as you grabbed his collar and crashed your lips onto his. You demanded and you took as you pleased, making him bend to your will and despite his arrogant self, he liked that. He liked being wanted. The way you had him on his back in moments, straddling him so full of confidence. You were quite a skilled rider too.

Had him wondering if he had finally met his match?

Now as he stalked in the shadows waiting for you to make a wrong move, he wanted to take back. He wanted you. He had spent weeks being distracted time and again by the memories of your little encounter, now that he was so close to you again he couldn't help but drown deeper and deeper in his inner conflict. Thess were slightly different times, what if you rejected him? It would be so embarrassing... and he couldn't just kill you off if you did, that would harm the truce...

He shook his head as he caught himself thinking nonsense again.

Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent...

You were a templar though... did you count?-

He didn't have time to measure your innocence as your pawns left to do something you ordered them to and finally you were all alone. All his. Easy prey.

A hand wrapped around your arm, twisting it behind you as he pulled you into the alleyway and slammed you front first into the wall.

"You've become too dull."

"Have I really?"

That was when he noticed you didn't use your other hand to brace yourself on the wall. The little sharp pain in his side from the blade threateningly pressing into him was proof enough.

"You'd still die anyway. So, yes, you have."

He let go of your arm and you turned around to face him in the very little space provided by his arms caging you to the wall, teasingly grinding your ass back onto him. He of course suppressed the little hiss in response, not wanting to give you the satisfaction.

"You think I dismissed my men because I'm dull and not because I saw a certain assassin lurking around in the shadows?"

He narrowed his glinting golden eyes at you.

"You are bluffing."

You chuckled as you wiped at your scraped cheek to ease the stinging.

"What ever helps your ego."

You could see his scowl even from under the hood casting shadows over his face that complimented his features, as he loomed over you, completely silent. His sunkissed skin, sharp bones, haunting eyes, defined scar over his lips.

"You are in templar territory, what do you want, bird?"

His grimace at the nickname had you smirking triumphantly. Why did you have to know their language... it was annoying.

"Don't call me that!"

"But that's your name."

You looked smug and he didn't like that but you didn't have all day for the yarn of his ego to untangle on it's own. You reached up, slipping your hand inside the hood and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down to you so you could whisper in his ear.

"Or do you prefer, Eagle? Am I your poor little prey this time?"

He could feel the goosebumps rise over his arms as he growled in annoyance, your voice rolled over his skin smoothly.

"If you were, you wouldn't live long enough to mock me."

"Flattering."

Your smirk widened, nipping the side of his jaw and pushing him off a whole step before he could react.

"Come, boy."

"... tch..."

Clicking his tongue he wondered if this was all worth it any way as he watched your form striding down the alley, taking his time before he decided to follow you.

To an abandoned building, top floors almost burnt away, leading to a giant hole in the roof opening up to the skies. At the entrance you grabbed his hand cause he was hesitating to step in.

He would have preferred more hospitality... like your own quarters maybe...

He didn't have time to ponder as you pushed him back on one of the few surviving furniture, before straddling his lap.

... a long wooden bench... in a burnt building with cold stone wallls...

"We're in a church!-"

You were already half way through his robes, heavily dropping the weapon belt on the ground as you looked up at his anxious expression, scoffing.

"And? Are you a religious man, Assassin?"

He glared at you but you had a point. He just didn't expect such disrespect from you. Were you not fighting as part of Richard's army?...

"You're shameless."

"Shame is a weakness. You didn't seek me out beacuse I am a weakling now, did you?"

You plopped down on his now not dangerously armed crotch and his hands shot up to grab your hips and steady you.

"Who said I seeked you out? I was just in the area for a job."

"Ouch... you mean you killed off one of my men and came to add insult to the injury?"

He paused as you paused staring down at him. Well maybe he didn't choose his words right. He wasn't good at lying on the spot.

"That's hot."

At this point he had no idea if you meant the things you said or if you were being sarcastic. But he didnt care as you started grinding down over him.

Like last time.

Oh hell no.

He flipped you, so now you were lying on your back looking up at him surprised.

"Not this time. You are mine now."

"Oh? Fine then, show me what you've got."

You almost immediately regretted that as the pit in your stomach deepened not only from excitement but from fear as his fingers wrapped around your throat tightly, nudging your legs apart to settle between them. As you let him discard your clothes, it was probably the first time it downed on you. The danger you were in. He could actually kill you. And no one would know. Kill you and leave you there disgraced and dishonored with no one to know where to look for you.

You wheezed loudly, clutching the wrist of the hand he had wrapped around your neck, your train of thoughts derailed as he unceremoniously thrusted himself into you.

His fingers left your neck, to fist in your hair instead, arching your neck so he had more room as his lips met the delicate skin, his stubble scratching you pleasantly. You grabbed the back of his neck, pressing his face deeper into the crook of your neck and he didn't mind endulging you, sucking and nipping on the skin, combined with shallow slow thrusts had you arching and twisting under him, trying desperately to get more friction out of him. He gripped your hips tightly, pinning you down and restraining your movements.

"I said you'll be good and do as I tell you to."

"That is not what you said."

"Don't test me, (y/n)."

He growled in your ear, his voice rumbling from deep in his chest and you were not about to argue with that as you hummed in response and decided to oblige.

He briefly pulled out of you, only to pull you up and dropping you on your knees on the stoney ground. With a hand on the back of your neck he had you face down, arse up and he plunged himself back into you groaning at the way you twitched around him eagerly with a loud wanton moan.

His other hand grabbed your hip to keep you from jerking forward while he drilled into you, completely different from his earlier pace.

"This is what you want after all. To be fucked like a little bitch with an important audience."

Between your moans and scratching at the ground in pleasure mixed with pain you didnt have time to wonder who, until he grabbed a fist full of your hair and pulled you back against him so you were facing the old crushed cross behind the altar.

"...you fucking basta-geh!"

He shoved his fingers into your mouth, down your throat, deep enough to make you choke and gag around them.

"I'd watch my mouth, if I were you."

He resumed kissing your abused neck, fingers thrusting in your mouth, creating lewd wet noises and heavy moans.

You were close, he could tell. You were constricting around him so tight he almost released a few times if not for the way you bit his fingers angrily. But he wanted you to finish first. Wanted you to whimper and beg as you just couldn't anymore.

He sunk his teeth in your shoulder and that was it for you. A high pitched mewl and you were clamping down on him violently as your release shook you to your core, slumping over him as he slowed down ever so slightly.

Then he let you drop on your front and resumed his brutal pace, seeking his own release now, disregarding your half hearted protesting sobs.

It didn't take him long and he finished over your ass, panting heavily as he watched your shaky body, get used to the abuse way too quickly as you rolled over underneath him to shoot him a glare.

Awkward silence engulfed you both as he got on his feet and even helped you up with a hand and you both started fixing up your clothes and putting your weapons back in place.

This was not how it ended last time. The silenece made him wonder if he did something very wrong. If your little forbidden rendezvous had come to an end because of him. If it had, it was probably for the best but... he felt a pang of sadness thinking about it. Oh how he wished for you to open your smug mouth and say something. Anything.

"I think we can both agree, I am better off in charge."

"You wish, Templar."

"...well... yes, I do. That's the whole reason behind our ancient conflict, Assassin."

#altair x reader #altair x reader smut #altair x reader lemon #assassins creed #altair ibn la'ahad #assassins creed imagines

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bokugaos · 3 years

Text

piece by piece.

pairing: kuroo x reader

length: 3.1k

tags — sex work/prostitution, semi-public sex, oral sex, alley blow jobs, rough sex, creampie, violence, abuse/assault, jealousy, possessiveness, angst.

summary: The first time Kuroo fucks you is your first ever. The second time he fucks you is also the last time.

The first time is in a dirty alley behind the bar, Kuroo’s pants around his ankles and you are fumbling awkwardly down to your knees.

He’s drunk and angry, too pissed off at the world to care who’s sucking him off in the dingy shadows beside the garbage bins. It’s not a bad blowjob by far—certainly not the worst he’s ever had—mouth warm and tight as he grips your hair and shoves his thick cock down your throat. You gag a little until your pretty eyes start to water, though you don’t try to pull away; you just let Kuroo fuck your mouth until he comes with a grunt, and swallows every drop before wiping your lips absently with a delicate hand.

Kuroo doesn’t look up as he tucks himself back into his jeans, though he can hear you get off your knees and lean against the wall with a sigh. The orgasm has taken the edge off his simmering rage, but he’s still drunk as fuck and anxious to get home and crawl into his lumpy bed. He digs into his jeans for twenty bucks and hands it to you without a word, and is surprised when you stuff it into your pocket and then grabs his arm before he can walk away.

“Do you…want me to do that for you again some time?” you ask, and look up at him with wide, hopeful eyes like he is the fucking Santa Claus. “I can meet you here? Or at your place?”

The words are on the tip of his tongue as he shrugs your hand off with a sigh; that he’s not picky about who sucks his cock and pretty much any mouth will do. Instead, he looks at your earnest face and the slightly desperate expression you’re trying to hide and finds himself saying the last fucking thing he ever expected.

“Yeah, here. Same time tomorrow.”

—

He doesn’t even learn your name until the fifth time you suck him off, still panting slightly after taking the load down your throat with a pleased smile.

“My name’s y/n,” you say, staring up at him through those lashes like you’re expecting a fucking pat on the head. He has no idea how he’s supposed to respond so he says nothing, shoving the money at you with a grunt before walking away.

He doesn’t need to know your name or what you do when he’s not around. And he does not spend any time wondering where you stay or why you’re out on the streets in the first place.

It’s none of his fucking business.

—

The first time Kuroo fucks you is also your first time ever, though he has no clue he’s dealing with a virgin until the deed is done.

You’re in his bed, and on your hands and knees, face pressed into the mattress and your hands clenched so tightly on the sheets. If he had bothered to, he might have guessed at the lack of experience; would have known from the wild look in your eyes and the nervous gnawing of those plush lips as you strip hastily and crawl onto the bed.

Instead, he’s too distracted by the show of your skin and his own painful erection to do much more than a perfunctory prep before he’s pushing in. you keen, high and wounded and clench down, and it takes every bit of his willpower not to just shove his cock all the way in and start thrusting his hips. As it is, he barely gives you a few moments to get used to being filled, before he starts hammering that pretty hole like his life fucking depends on it.

You groan, back arching against every thrust, sounding pinched and breathless every time he sinks in and bottoms out with a forceful grunt. You feel damn good around his swollen prick, and he finds that he can’t get enough of the way your skin bruises under his rough and calloused fingertips. It drives him wild when you grit your teeth and try so hard not to whine, which only tips Kuroo to haul his hips back and fuck you even harder.

He’s so pent-up that it doesn’t take long before he’s on the edge, and then he’s dragging you up onto your knees and spurting hard, biting down on a bare neck as he comes and comes inside that tight flesh. When he finishes he pulls out slowly, almost gently, though it still makes you cry out like you’re being punched in the gut.

“You okay?” he asks, as you just lay there on the bed, head cradled in your arms as you stare blankly at the far wall. “Did you come?”

“No,” you say, so quietly he can barely hear you. “I didn’t think I would the first time. Maybe once I’m used to it, and it doesn’t hurt.”

Kuroo stiffens, and slowly climbs off the bed. “What the fuck? What do you mean first time?”

You turn to look up at him and shrug, though your eyes are red and a little wet. “Everyone has a first time, right? This was mine.”

He pushes the bills into your hand hesitantly and leaves you on the bed.

He doesn’t see you again for a month.

—

Kuroo finds you there the week after, in the alley behind the same bar, in your usual spot at the usual time. But it’s obvious that you’re not waiting for him tonight, because you’re on your knees again in the shadows, sucking some other man’s dick like you were born for it.

His first impulse is to turn around and leave, to get away from the vivid image of your lips wrapped around someone else’s dick, licking and swallowing like you’re eating a goddamn ice cream. It’s followed by a second impulse to grab the guy and break his fucking nose, the rage welling up fast and violent when you start choking on the cock that’s being unceremoniously rammed down your throat.

Instead Kuroo just stands there and watches, frozen as the man in the cheap grey suit shoots his load inside your mouth with a satisfied grunt. You barely have time to swallow before you’re being hauled onto your feet and kissed within an inch of your life, roughly and messily like the guy is trying to inhale you. Kuroo is practically seeing red with the way he’s manhandling you like so much meat, grabbing and sucking and bruising you like his measly twenty bucks gives him the right to touch every inch of your body.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” the guy yells, when he finally notices Kuroo looming just a few feet away. “You her pimp? Or her next client?”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t mind him, he’s nobody.” You interrupt, and Kuroo can’t disagree, even if the words stick in his craw like so much bile.

The tone of your words manages to surprise Kuroo, if not the invitation; he knows full well that you can’t possibly live off of the measly few dollars you make off of Kuroo alone. No, it’s the way you sound when he makes the offer—all fake happiness and a sultry smile, knowing exactly which strings to pull to get a man’s groin to pay attention.

There’s none of the vulnerability and shy air that you usually carry when you’re dealing with Kuroo, and it makes him feel nauseous, like he doesn’t know which version of you is the real one.

He watches as you follow the cheap suit guy to his small green car parked just a few feet away, ignoring Kuroo as you climb into the passenger seat. He continues to watch as the man grabs you by the back of your neck and crushes his lips to yours, like he wants to take you right there, spread your legs wide and fuck you on the fake leather seats. He watches until the car tears out of its spot and disappears down the road, leaving him standing in the alley alone, his mind filled with images of you on your knees.

Kuroo doesn’t sleep at all that night.

—

Four days later you show up at his apartment unannounced, sporting a split lip and red marks over your arms, and finger shaped bruises around his neck.

Kuroo lets you in without a word.

You flop tiredly onto the couch, pulling your legs to your chest with a sigh as he heads into the kitchen to fix you some food. When he returns, you take the plate and cup of coffee with a grateful nod and a quirk of your cracked and not quite bleeding lips.

“Really? Coffee? Do I look like I need coffee?”

Kuroo snorts. “Just do me a favor and tell me who that guy is.”

“It’s fine, I don’t really know him anyway,” you shrug, and start to wolf down the meal like it’s the first food you’ve had in days. Which is both a relief and a sting to his heart, because you don’t know that much about him as well, and neither does he.

So he doesn’t ask for any further details, and you don’t offer, though he does ask you to stay the night and sleep on the couch. He tries not to think too much about the relief that flashes briefly across your face, or what he wants to do to the guy who put his hands on you and made you look this way.

You are not on the couch when Kuroo gets up the next morning, and he tells himself that it’s just as well.

—

“Are you in some kind of trouble?”

He doesn’t know why he asks the question; has received no indication from you that any inquiry into your affairs is either wanted or appreciated. But since you showed up at his place last week ago, bruised and obviously in distress, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened, and when—not if—it might happen again.

You arch an eyebrow at him and frown. “Why do you think I’m in trouble?”

Kuroo shrugs. “You’re not at your usual spot anymore, behind that bar. I thought…maybe you’re avoiding the guy that hit you.”

The smile that blooms across your face is wholly unexpected, those eyes bright with amusement and something that looks a little too much like softness.

“Yes, but it’s fine. I moved to a different spot and I don’t think he’s going to come looking for me anyway. Not after what I did to him.”

You are grinning now, practically begging Kuroo with the barely contained glee on your face to ask for details. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’d you do?”

You shrug, swallowing a mouthful of your food before you answer, “I waited until he fell asleep and took nude photos of him in his bed. Then I texted them to as many people as I could find on his contacts.”

“You did what—?” he starts, and then, “I’m quite pleasantly surprised. He’s such a good guy.”

“Right?” You say with a laugh, and then your expression changes, smoothing out into a mask of carefreeness that he doesn’t quite buy. “I left after that. But not before cleaning his wallet.”

—

“You can stay here, if you want,” Kuroo says to you the next morning, his arms around your waist as you lay together in his bed. “Just…I don’t know where you live but if you need a place to go you can crash here.”

You turn in his arms until you’re facing him, your face graced with a shy smile and asks, “Can I suck your cock in exchange for rent?”

“No! It’s not…I don’t mean you have to give me any…fuck,” Kuroo swears, as you tilt your head to the side in realization. “You don’t have to do anything for me.”

“Yeah,” You agree, “same goes for you.”

—

It takes Kuroo almost an entire week before he realizes that you have taken him up on his offer to stay, your comings and goings unpredictable and your actions often completely unexpected. There are days when you don’t leave the apartment at all; where you spend hours cleaning the living room and wiping furniture, or doing all his laundry. Other times you will disappear for an entire day and night, and return stinking of alcohol and covered in other people’s seed and sweat. Those nights, he watches as you limp into the bathroom and quietly locks the door, and spends hours in the shower, long after the water turns icy cold.

He never asks, but he never says no either, when you climb on him on the couch and unbuckles his pants with quick and steady hands. It’s not just lust that makes it so good when you lick him sloppily from root to tip; it’s also the shame bubbling just under his skin, watching you swallow him down with those perfect cock sucking lips. Kuroo can’t stop staring at your swollen mouth sliding up and down his cock; can’t stop bucking his hips and fucking your throat, relishing the noises you make when he shoots his entire load in your sinful mouth with a groan.

You always lick your lips after you suck his cock, like it’s the best damn thing you’ve ever tasted.

And you only smile afterwards when you do it for him.

—

One day, you come home in the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday, carrying shopping bags that you dump unceremoniously onto the floor. You’re wearing a brand new outfit that looks more expensive than what he makes in a week, gleaming bracelets adorning your wrists and a diamond necklace sparkling on your neck. Gone are your loose worn t-shirts and baggy, low-rise jeans; you look like a model in one of those designer catalogues, or the A-list celebrities going to get coffee in sunny L.A.

Kuroo hates it.

He hates it, because of how right you look in your expensive new outfit; like these are the clothes you’re meant to be wearing.

Like you belong in them all the time, and in a world far, far away from him.

He makes you take all your fancy jewelries off, and then fucks you roughly with two fingers until you come all over his couch.

—

You still show up at the apartment smelling like sex, with bite marks on your collarbone and your lips swollen from kisses.

But you also come home with bags and bags of groceries too, and make sure to stock the fridge full of his favorite beer.

He tells himself that he appreciates your thoughtfulness, and isn’t at all jealous of whoever the hell it is that’s giving you what he needs.

Giving you everything you deserve and could never get from a guy like him.

—

The second time he fucks you is also the last time.

You ask him to go out for dinner one night, to a place with neatly folded cloth napkins and dimly lit candles on the table, and you order the most expensive dish on the menu. You spend the evening devouring a mountain of food and making fun of the pretentious staff, and Kuroo pretends he’s perfectly fine with the fact that some rich asshole he doesn’t know is paying for this good time.

But he bites back the festering resentment and gives you a genuine smile, because he’s never seen you so damned happy and relaxed, laughing and smiling as you make your way back to Kuroo’s apartment. He lets you lead him into the bedroom and shut the door behind them, and grins into the toe curling kiss that follows as you move to the bed.

This time, when he’s got you naked on your hands and knees, he takes care to be gentle and thorough, spreading your legs wide and working you open. He slips his tongue and licks your wetness all over, and tastes every bit of that pretty cunt while you clutch the sheets and writhe and moan.

“Tetsurou,” you pant, as he slides in slowly, inch by excruciating inch. “F-feels so good! Oh, please, please fuck me, god I want to feel you, please..!”

“I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he says, groaning as you arch your back and clench around him. “Gonna make you scream my name.”

And he does, relishing every sound he can wring out of you as he sinks to the root, and every breathless sigh as he starts rocking his hips. Every stroke makes him want to push harder and thrust deeper, as he watches his cock disappear over and over inside that pretty pink hole.

He fucks you for what feels like hours that night, stopping whenever he gets too close to wring every ounce of pleasure possible from your sweat soaked bodies. He fucks you on your knees and then flips you over onto your back, and drives himself inside you like he wants to own him; be the one to break you apart and put you back together again.

“Is it good like this? When he fucks you?” Kuroo snarls, throwing your legs over his shoulders and sinking even deeper. “Do you tell them that you want them so bad? Beg them to ruin you too?”

You don’t answer, spurting all over yourself as he keeps drilling you into the bed. He follows a few rough strokes later with a groan, fingers biting deep into soft flesh, every part of him howling with possessive fury as he paints your tight walls with his come.

“No,” you whisper, much later, with Kuroo’s arms wrapped around you and his nose pressed against your neck. “It’s not like this at all.”

—

The space beside him is empty by the time he wakes the next morning, and there’s a neatly folded note on the nightstand.

He ignores it until he can’t anymore, and then crumples it in his fist and tosses it into the garbage can.

He’s always known that this is how it would end.

Still, he wishes he knew more than just your first name, or how your smile—the real one, soft and genuine—was the best thing he’d ever fucking seen.

He doesn’t see you again for a long time; days and months and years until there’s nothing left but a memory of you and a dull, aching hole in his chest.

#kuroo smut #kuroo x reader smut #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #tw sex work #tw prostitution #kuroo angst #.kuroo!#.fics!

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fandom-puff · 4 years

Text

Blowing His Cover

Pairing: Severus Snape x reader

Requested by: @epaige0914

Summary: Severus tries his very best to keep a level head... that’s very difficult with you underneath the desk...

AN: yeah it’s a double entendre in the title. Couldn’t resist 🙃 Erm yeah Snape is hot and I’d let him stamp on my throat :) gif creds to owner

ALSO I’m really proud of this, so pls leave feedback, reblog etc :))

Warnings: oral sex, sex, almost getting caught, swearing

You sighed from the doorway of Severus’s office as you watched him hunch over his paperwork, angry slashes of red ink sprouting from his quill. He had been at it since you came back from dinner, and while you appreciated how difficult it was getting through thirty sixth year essays, you had told him to do it over the weekend instead of putting it off to the last minute. And quite frankly, you wanted your husband by your side, even if it was just reading on the couch in his private chambers.

“I did tell you to do them over the weekend with me and Filius,” you said, your eyebrow cocking up as he scoffed.

“Oh, be quiet, witch,” he said, although there was no malice in his tone. It was rather fond, actually.

You decided to take a gamble. “Make me,” you teased, smiling mischievously as he looked over his shoulder at you.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, eyes narrowing. “I will. On your knees, between my legs,” he said, and you scurried over, happily settling between his legs. Sighing happily, you began tracing the buttons of his placket with your fingertips. Those buttons... you loved to rut your clit against them while you snogged... only Severus Snape would have trousers that fastened with about five stiff canvas buttons and no zipper, and you adored it. “Now, now, YN, we haven’t got all night...” he said, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. You sighed longing at the buttons, and began unfastening them, moaning as you undid his flies and tugged his heavy, half-hard cock out. Severus went to shift his trousers down to his ankles, but you stopped him with surprisingly firm hands on his thighs.

“Keep them on. It’s more fun,” you winked and he rolled his eyes fondly, pushing your hair out of your face as you pumped him to full hardness. You admired his large cock for a moment, before moaning softly, wrapping your lips around the tip, flickering your tongue over the sensitive flesh. Letting his control slip slightly, Severus let out a low moan, grip on your hair tightening as you swallowed more and more of him into your mouth, you rigjt, wet throat yawning around him, squeezing his girth almost torturously as you gagged. You flicked your lusty, watering eyes up to him, letting them roll back as you bobbed your head along his dick, occasionally hollowing out your cheeks as drops of his bitter precum trickled down your throat. Moaning wantonly, you reached a hand up to wrap around the few inches at his thick base that you couldn’t quite fit in your mouth, pumping and squeezing in time with your delicious throat. Severus groaned a little louder, his fingers digging into your scalp as his hips started to buck upwards into your welcoming mouth, his eyes screwed shut as he felt his cock pulsing, ready for release when-

There was a loud knock on the door.

You slid off his cock with a pop as Severus shoves you under the desk, tucking his chair in, his engorged cock still out proudly, almost smacking you in the face. “Enter” he called in his usual baritone rumble (which admittedly made your cunt flutter). The door eased open and you frowned, trying to gauge who it was by their footsteps.

“Severus, sorry to barge in when you’re so busy with marking papers,” remus lupin’s gentle voice spoke. “I was just wondering if you have my potion ready for next week?”

“Yes lupin,” Severus said, and you guessed by the sounds of remus’s footsteps that he went to the shelf where Sev must have gestured. “Now if you don’t mind-”

“One more thing,” you pressed a gentle kiss to the head of Severus’s cock, smirking as his thighs tensed. You wouldn’t dare, would you? “I’m covering aquatic creatures with my fifth years tomorrow, but once we’re done, I’ll have a tank full of grindilows and possibly a few mermaid’s eggshells,”

As remus explained about collecting the teeth and shells for Severus’s personal supplies, you began swallowing his cock back into your throat. You definitely would dare, it seemed. You bobbed your head slowly, hollowing your cheeks, careful not to make any slurping noises as you did, and reached a hand down to rub your clit as you did. The risk of getting caught with your mouth full of cock and your fingers down your knickers had you soaked, and you were starting to lose yourself, barely registering Severus’s clipped agreement and remus’s gentle goodbye and the shutting of the door until Severus shoved back from the desk, almost dislodging your mouth from him.

“Oh, you little harlot,” he groaned, grasping fistfuls of your hair. “Frigging yourself off while you’re sucking my cock eh? Taking more and more of me down your throat with lupin just two feet away from you?” You moaned out around his dick, nodding your head eagerly, sucking a little harder. He moaned in response and soon spurted thick ropes of come down your throat, bucking his hips up, making you gag slightly.

On shaky legs, you got up from the floor, your knees a little bruised already, and bit your lip hard. “Oh, Severus, please come to bed,” you whispered needily, rubbing your thighs together. Severus tutted at you and used his wand to sort the paperwork into neat piles as he guided you to sit on the edge of his desk. You hopped up eagerly, spreading your legs for him as he slipped your pyjama bottoms and knickers down your legs, eyes darkening as he gazed at your soaked, puffy folds, your wetness glistening in the candlelight.

“You’re dripping, darling,” he smirked, sitting back to admire the sight for a while longer before leaning forward. Just before his glorious mouth made contact, he flicked his eyes up to look at you. “Oh by the way... Lupin’s senses are heightening near the full moon, and he definitely began taking a few much deeper breaths... he could smell you, I bet, smell your dripping cunt. But who’s is it, YN?” He growled, grabbing fistfuls of your hips and thighs.

“Oh, god... it’s yours, Severus, it’s all yours- ah!” Just as you whimpered out who you belonged to, Severus delved between your legs, tongue-fucking your quivering hole, his hooked nose bumping your clit deliciously. You tangled your fingers in his hair, moaning softly, trying to keep quiet, head tipped back and lip tugged firmly between teeth.

“My office is warded, dear... you may scream as loud as you like,”

It was lucky Severus told you that; he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking it roughly and flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub, grunting as he drank you in. “O-oh! Sev! Severus- fuck! I’m coming!” You cried out, your thighs tightening around his head and your heels digging into his back as you held him close, bucking your hips to ride out wave upon wave of intense pleasure.

Panting, you came down from your high and Severus pulled away, albeit reluctantly, his lips turning up into a smirk. “Severus Snape, I swear to god, you had better take me into that bedroom and fuck me until I can’t walk straight,” you moaned, letting him drag you into his private chambers. You kissed him desperately, gripping his jaw, moaning at the tasted of you that lingered on his tongue. Still kissing you, Severus guided you to the bed, laying you down and starting with his buttons. You groaned and reached for your wand on the bedside table, and with a few flicks, you were both bare. “Sorry, love, as erotic as a good unbuttoning is...” you murmured, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

“You want me buried to the hilt in your cunt before you combust?” He smirked, reaching down to kiss you. “Because honestly, darling... I couldn’t agree more,”

Your giggle of response was cut short as Severus guided his cock into you, letting out a long, low groan at the wetness of your channel, bracing himself on his elbows above you. You cradled him between your thighs, squeezing his hips slightly as you arched your breasts up to him. “Please, Sev... please don’t be gentle!” You whimpered, needing desperately to feel him pounding you to oblivion. “I’m yours, Severus, please, please fuck me,”

Severus kissed your forehead. “Shhh, yn, love,” he murmured. “I know you’re mine. And I am yours,” he groaned lowly, settling into a rather ruthless pace. Each thrust was punctuated by a grunt from him, and your soft whimpers soon turned into loud cries of ecstasy, allowing yourself to lose yourself in sensation, wrapping your legs around Severus’s waist to feel him impossibly deeper, stretching out every inch of your innermost walls. Severus groaned your name like a prayer, chanting tge syllables into your shoulder as his hips snapped relentlessly, his infamous control well and truly thrown out the window as he neared his climax. “Come with me, YN,” he growled into your ear, tugging on the love with his crooked teeth, pushing his fingers against your clit roughly, circling them quickly.

The combined sensation of the bite, Severus’s growling, the fingers on your most sensitive part, and the cock spearing your innermost pleasure points over and over was simply too much for your body to handle, and you couldn’t hold off anymore. You cried Severus’s name, tears streaming down your face as you moaned and whined, clinging to him as you felt him paint your walls with his come, grunting into your shoulder as he hit bruise after bruise into it.

Utterly legless, seeing spots and quivering, you snuggled into severus’s side. You had begged him to leave his come in you for a while, not to cast a cleaning spell just yet, and you were both more than happy to lay, entangled with one another, sweat, breath and the fluids from your rough, passionate lovemaking mingling on your skin as you regulated your breathing. You pressed your forehead to his heart, grasping his hand as he held you close, legs intertwined, Severus nuzzling into your hair. “I love you, Yn,” he murmured after a while, his thumb stroking your arm.

“Mmm... love you too, sev,” you mumbled, voice slurred. Severus looked down and smiled fondly at your sleeping figure, and complied when you rolled onto your side, taking Severus with you, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling your back flush against his front, settling into a deep sleep in the tangled bedsheets, a mixture of your come drying on the insides of your thighs, hair messy and muscles aching, every inch of your beings alight with one another.

Tag List: @a-hopeless-fan @lotsoffandomrecs @justanotherwildstar @rai-strangebr @zodiyack @haphazardhufflepuff @dumbfuckinslytherin @severuslovebot

#severus snape x y/n #snape x reader #severus snape imagine #severus snape x reader #severus snape x you #professor snape #professor snape imagine #professor snape smut #snape #snape smut #severus snape x reader smut #harry potter #hp #imagine #request #harry potter imagine #fanfiction #smut

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candychronicles · 4 years

Text

masquerade girl // k. takami

A/N: this is my take on the glory hole harem server collab!

CHARACTER PAIRING: Takami Keigo (Hawks) x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,340

WARNINGS: face-fucking, oral (male receiving), some dirty talk, some praise

SYNOPSIS: when an opportunity to pay off your loans, and fast, falls into your lap, you take it without hesitation. sure, it’s not the prettiest of jobs, but who said it couldn’t be fun?

Want to see what awaits in the other holes? Click here to find out !

you settled yourself down onto the plush pillows, adjusting and readjusting yourself in order to get comfortable, but no matter what you did, it never seemed to work. there was an ache in your chest that you weren’t sure how to deal with, threatening to drown you before you even began.

what were you doing? was this really necessary?

you shook your head at those thoughts, scolding yourself. of course this wasn’t necessary, but it was still a good opportunity. this one night could pay off your bills, loans and more, something which couldn’t be passed up. you adjusted your mask, a nervous twitch you noticed, continuing to shift slightly in place as you waited.

a soft creak was the only thing that could be heard in the dim light and you instinctively let out a gasp, surprised at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts.

“oh little one, were you really that surprised by me? you haven’t even seen anything and you’re already nervous, huh?” a teasing voice called out, quiet footsteps echoing into your room as they approached the wall that separated the two of you, giving two experimental taps onto the thin wood, eliciting yet another squeak from you.

“i’d much rather prefer hearing those noises come out of your mouth as it’s wrapped around my cock. what do you think?”

“whatever you want sir. i’m just here to make your night as pleasurable as possible,” came your loud yet wavering voice.

truth be told, you were trying to place where the voice was from. you signed a contract stating whatever was seen and heard within the confines of these walls could not be spoken about publicly or privately but that didn’t stop you from being curious. for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out who it was, but at that moment it didn’t matter because you were here to do a job and that was it, or so you kept telling yourself.

despite your initial fear of coming here, some arousal leaked out of you regardless of your mind telling you what a bad girl you were. maybe the fact that you were doing something so lewd, clad in pretty lingerie and a beautiful masquerade ball mask, set you off. whatever it was, you knew you’d be in for a hopefully fun night and quite the disappointing ride home.

“that’s a good girl,” came the voice from the other side of the wall, snapping you out of your thoughts.

nervously, you looked towards the hole, shifting once again in anticipation this time, excited to start the night and get it over with all at once.

“are you ready?” came the guy once more, this time more gentle. it seemed as if he was slightly anxious too, something which helped calm your nerves greatly.

“yes, i’m ready.”

you strained your eyes as you attempted to look through the hole from where you were sitting, but you also were afraid of what you would see. the sound of fabric rustling was all you could hear from the opposite wall, and then there was silence and only heavy breathing.

his cock emerged from the hole, inch by inch. you sat there for a moment, stunned, wondering how you were going to fit him all into your mouth. he wasn’t necessarily thick, but he was long, and curved slightly to your left. gingerly, and without thinking, you reached forward, putting your hands delicately onto his cock, mesmerized at the way it jumped at your slight touch.

a soft, frustrated grunt followed, and you smirked at the way such a little touch could have such a profound impact on someone.

“c’mon little one, don’t tease me here. i am paying you quite a bit of money for this, so show me what you got, yeah?”

“i’m starting to think that i’d do this even if it wasn’t for the money,” you replied honestly, a bit shocked that you admitted it so freely, but certain of what you felt.

“well lookie here, we’ve got a bit of a kinky one, hmm?” he teased, shuffling his feet, his cock bobbling with the adjustment.

“you can’t really lookie here if you can’t see me,” you mocked back, your body shifting forward as you hovered in front of his cock, gently blowing on the tip, a delighted peel of laughter leaving your lips once again as you watched it twitch, a small bead of precum leaking out.

without any warning, he surged forward, his hips meeting the board, forcing his way into your slightly parted mouth, the head now engulfed in your wet walls. you immediately wrapped your lips around his member, slowly inching your way down until you reached the limit, wrapping your hand around the base to cover the rest.

“you’d like it if i could see you, huh? that’s part of what makes this so exciting, knowing that i could rip this board down and take that pretty little mask off of you and see you, know who you are with just a few movements.”

involuntarily your legs clenched, a wanton moan leaving your throat at his words, not even trying to hold back as you moved your mouth rhythmically up and down his cock, forcing yourself as deep as you could go.

“that’s what i thought, little slut. i’m sure you’re just as excited as i am, if not more.”

you didn’t argue with him, focused on the way his dick felt in your mouth, hot and warm, smooth and dense, so perfect. you relaxed your jaw as much as you could, pushing yourself to your limits, allowing him to hit the back of your throat, forcing you to gag.

“shit little one, you take me so well,” he purred, slamming his fist against the plank, laughing as he felt you startle at the loud sound.

“don’t worry, if you suck my cock like the good little girl that i know you are, i won’t break this wall down and you can keep your precious anonymity. does that sound good?”

you could only mumble around his mouth, agreeing to anything he said at that point, too wrapped up in the feeling of him to be concerned about what he was talking about.

slowly, you moved yourself off of his cock, choosing to take the time to admire him, placing little kitten licks to his head, placing gentle kisses down his shaft, wrapping your delicate hand around his cock and hearing him hiss, the board making another loud thwack as he smacked the side of it.

you relished in the way he acted, every moan and groan, every stutter of his hips, every ‘good girl’ and ‘little one’ that came out of his mouth, you wanted to savor every moment of it.

your teasing was cut short when his fist came through the wall to grip the wood tightly, frustrated with the way you were making him feel, so close and yet so far away. you reached up as to grab his hand but then pulled yourself back down, realizing how foolish it would be to touch him. after all, that was something that you were not going to initiate yourself, nor were you allowed to.

quickly, so as to not make him too pent up, you took him back in your cock, your pussy clenching when you heard him sigh, satisfied with the way you felt around his member. you began your ministrations again, slowly working your way back down his shaft, bobbing steadily and getting your rhythm back into place.

“i’m getting so close baby, just hold on a little longer, yeah? god i’m going to cum all in that pretty little mouth of yours. you’d like that huh, slurping up all my seed?”

you moaned unabashedly in his mouth, working harder to make him feel good. his pants and moans continued to be labored, letting you know that he was having as good of a time as you were.

you were enamored by the way his hand flexed above your head, so strong, gripping so tight the wood began to splinter underneath his fingertips. you didn’t even notice that you had slowed down dramatically until the hand that you were staring at waved at you.

a squeal left your mouth as you popped softly off his cock, eyes wide in embarrassment.

“i’m sorry, i just, i got distracted okay?”

“imagining what it would feel like to have my hand in your hair, perhaps? that can be arranged if you’re interested. one little punch and i’ll squeeze that pretty little head of yours.”

“yeah, yeah i’d like that,” you replied breathlessly, watching as his hand removed itself from the hole.

“turn around and cover your face,” was the only warning you got before a hole was punched through the plywood. he removed the shards and then delicately placed his wrist in the new hole, beckoning with one crooked finger.

wordlessly, you crawled back to the hole, entranced by the way his hand looked, and took his gloved finger into your mouth, twirling and sucking on the digit with everything you had. he removed his hand from your mouth, only to return a moment later, this time gloveless. he gently felt his way to your neck, squeezing on the carotids, before placing his thumb back into your mouth, pressing the pad down on your tongue hard, tears pricking at your eyes as you attempted not to gag.

“what a good little thing you are, huh? how would you feel about finishing sucking my cock now?”

you moved eagerly back down, shifting to get comfortable, before placing his member in your mouth, smiling slightly as you felt him stiffen on top of your wet muscle.

gently, you began sucking his cock once more, bouncing your head back and forth, but before you could establish yourself, you felt him slide deep into the back of your throat. you adjusted to his size the best you could, but those tears that were barely pricking your eyes earlier now freely flowed down your face.

“i bet you’re a pretty sight to see, drool and tears streaming down your face and off your chin. what a pretty girl you are,” he cooed, and you swore your heart stopped at his compliments.

at his praise, you forced your throat to relax, taking nearly all of him in, breathing through your nose as you adjusted to the odd feeling. his hold relaxed on your hair and you pulled back enough to regain your composure, but soon began to move again, this time attempting to take him in as much as you could.

“shit baby, if you keep this up, i won’t last much longer.”

that’s exactly what i want.

you slowly dipped your head up and down, relishing in the way he slid in and out of your mouth so smoothly, like cream on your tongue. you felt his frustrated tugs at your hair but didn’t do anything about it, ignoring the burning sensation in favor of making the man in front of you feel good.

steadily, you began increasing the pace, feeling more and more comfortable as time went on, egged on by his breathy moans and praises that fell from his lips like gospel. your knees were aching from being on them for so long, a burning desire coursing through your veins, your pussy throbbing, wanting so badly to feel good, but more importantly, wanted to make him feel good.

“s’close, just like that.”

you continued your past, your neck and jaw aching, but you knew it would all be worth it soon.

waiting was very short lived as you heard his breathing increase, a slur of curses racing out of his mouth as he gripped your hair in a tight hold, forcing you to go at an intense pace.

after only a few moments, his white hot cum spurted out, shooting down your waiting throat, swallowing every heavenly drop. his pants and the sound of fluttering were the only things that could be heard in the few moments following his orgasm before he pulled out of your mouth and then out of the hole, putting on and adjusting what you assume were his clothes.

you felt the disappointment rise up into your chest and you sighed defeatedly, shifting back so that you could sit down properly, your body aching in protest from the position you held for so long.

“what’s wrong, little one? didn’t have any fun?” he asked, a dejected tone lacing his normally teasing lilt.

“i did. i’m uh, just disappointed that it’s over,” you admitted, teeth clenched together in shame that you enjoyed something so lewd and shady.

you heard him hum in contemplation before a card was thrust into to hole he had created with his fist not too long ago. gingerly, you reached out, capturing the paper in between two fingers, pulling it away quickly, like this was something you weren’t supposed to do.

“i don’t normally do this, but i had a lot of fun with you. if you’re interested, there’s my name and hotel room number. go get changed and come meet me,” he offered before his footsteps walked away, the door smoothly opening and closing with a quiet thud.

your heart pounded out of your ears as you were finally able to read the name of the man who you had just sucked off - Hawks, also known as, Takami Keigo, current number one pro hero of Japan. your jaw dropped to the floor as you attempted to take in the situation. grabbing a bottle of water, you chugged down the cool liquid without second thought, attempting to bring yourself back to reality.

studying the card once more, you sighed, flipping it back and forth between your fingers. when the other Masquerade girl came to get you, you stood up with confidence, thanking her as you changed and left the building. you knew where you had to be tonight, and this time, there would be no stupid wall.

Taglist: @redbeanteax @softforshigi @katsuki-bakugous-lady @secondhand-trash @freiyalight @crystal-lilac @khemz1312

Want to be a part of my taglist? Message me!

#hawks x reader #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha

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zevlors-tail · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump Day 8 - “Hey, hey, this is no time to sleep!”

A/N: I can’t believe I just wrote this in one sitting. I know I’m super behind on Febuwhump, yikes...but I think this turned out pretty well! This got longer than I meant it to be, but then, so did most of the prompts in my drafts that I have for this month. This is actually my first time purposefully writing whump so I hope this was okay! Unedited btw, i’ll read it over in the morning.

TW: Burning building, explosions, second degree burns, mentions/descriptions of burn wounds, life or death situation, building collapse, concussed reader.

***

The first thing Hawks notices when he comes to is the foul taste in his mouth. It causes him to gag and cough with his eyes still closed, though that doesn’t help his situation much if at all. The smell of something burning sears the inside of his nostrils and clogs his lungs, and he finds it incredibly hard to breathe as he rolls over onto his side, eyes finally fluttering open.

The second thing he becomes acutely aware of is how hot he is. No...how hot the floor is. Speaking of which, he couldn’t seem to recall what he was doing down there anyways. If only that incessantly annoying ringing in his ears would stop-

Wait. Wait a minute...

An image of you flashes behind his eyelids as he blinks them shut harshly to block out the billowing cloud of smoke filling the room, and it all comes back to him in a whirlwind.

There were villains. High class villains. Not your every day run of the mill villains, but villains who could really pack a punch when fighting back. They had been occupying a small skyscraper at the time as their headquarters, and you and Hawks had partnered up to take them down after months of steak outs and observation. But something had gone wrong...very wrong. Those details were still a bit blurry, but Hawks remembers something akin to an explosion- a loud noise, the building shaking, and a blast that knocked him unconscious.

All of the sudden he’s hyper aware of what’s going on- and he realizes he needs to move fast if he’s going to get out of here alive. He’s at least twenty stories up in the air on unstable structures, his feathers and hair are singed, and his head is foggy after inhaling too much smoke. Luckily he can still move, and it doesn’t look like he’s been burned too severely, at least not yet. But the flames licking at the bottom of the closed door in front of him cause alarm bells to scream out in his head, and he knows he doesn’t have much time to think. He needs to find you so he can grab you and-

Ohhh, shit.

As he rolls over onto his other side, he can make out the outline of a figure lying on the floor, and he’s almost certain it’s you. None of the villains stuck around after blowing the place up anyways, and he can just barely see the dulled colors of your hero suit behind the thick screen of smoke.

“Fuck! Oh god, Y/N.”

You’re lying too still for your own good, and Hawks thinks he can see the beginning of what he can only assume to be fire slowly eating at the wall next to you. He wastes no time and flattens himself on his stomach, army crawling in your general direction to avoid the worst of the putrid air. It doesn’t help much, but it’s better than nothing. He ignores the uncomfortable heat of his body and pushes onward, his movements still a little sluggish from getting knocked out cold. He’s not entirely sure if he can even use his feathers right now while they’re this singed, and furthermore, he hopes his wings aren’t completely out of commission; he’s going to need those if the both of you are going to make it out of this alive.

“Y/N!” he tries to shout, though it ends in a horrible sounding cough that comes from deep in his chest. As he draws nearer, he hears what sounds like creaking coming from above the two of you, and to his utter horror, the support beams under floor above you have burnt to a crisp and look like they’re ready to collapse any second. It had to have been a sheer miracle that the two of you weren’t already engulfed in flames yourselves. “Y/N! Come on, kid, you gotta get up! Move!”

Even as he tries to urgently get your attention his body seems to move on it’s own accord, and before he can stop himself, he sends a few feathers your way out of habit and concern that you might be crushed any second if he doesn’t move you somehow. It hurts like hell, and he’s pretty sure he’s bleeding. This is by far the worst he’s felt when using his feathers, but it does pay off, and you’re lucky that he made the split decision to move you- no sooner had he scrambled back with you had the ceiling collapsed into the floor.

He turns to you while staying low to the ground, shaking you desperately and firmly smacking the side of your face with his hand in hopes of interrupting your forced slumber. It works but just barely, and Hawks watches as you try to take a deep breath but end up choking just as he had. He gives you a once-over while you struggle to breathe, eyes flitting over your form to assess any damage you may have taken- and to his dismay, there seems to be a good amount of it. The entire left side of your hero outfit is singed, bits of the fabric even burnt into your skin in certain places where the heat must have been too strong. You hadn’t been able to move away or protect yourself in your sleep, and the burns on your arm and leg can definitely attest to that. They’re second degree, at least; some of the fire must have actually made contact with your skin.

“Oh, fuck- Hey, look at me. Y/N, focus here!”

He leans over you to look at your eyes, and he doesn’t have to shine a light in them or have you follow his finger to know that you hit your head a little too hard. They’re glossy and unfocused, and you can’t find a single place on his face to fixate on. You just keep looking all over, and Hawks can clearly tell your concussed.

Fucking great. He’s got to get you both out, and now.

“Hey, kid. Can you hear me?” He nervously awaits an answer with eyes trained on you, and the second you start to talk he lets out a small breath of short-lived relief.

“Hawks...? Wha...” You look so out of it and dazed.

“So that’s a yes, thank god...” Before you try to ask anything else, he stops you in your tracks and shakes his head at you. “Whoa, whoa, whoa- take it easy, alright? No questions, I just need you to listen and keep talking to me. Doesn’t matter what it’s about, I just need to know you’re awake and alive-” He pauses briefly to look around for something, anything he can do to escape.

There’s the door you both came from, the one that’s barely holding back the raging heat behind it- that’s a no-go. No way in hell is he trying to brave that. His wings won’t last five seconds in that, and you don’t have the means to protect yourself while you’re concussed. Another option is to try and escape through the hole in the floor that the ceiling caused...but that’s way too risky for the both of you as is, and it looks like flames are starting to creep in from that way, too. If he is going to take that route, he needs to do it soon. Maybe he can get to a staircase, or find a-

The sound of you moaning in pain cuts through his thoughts and his head whips back in your direction to find you grimacing and trying to move. “Ah ah- Don’t do that. Just keep talking, come on. I know it hurts, but you gotta keep talkin’ to me. I’m gonna get us out of this mess, somehow...”

Panic starts to set in as he realizes his options are limited. Terror grips him in it’s icy stone-cold jaws as he comes to the conclusion that his odds of survival are even worse.

“Hawks...it hur’s...” All you can do is roll your head back and forth and try to move, but your body just won’t cooperate with your mind.

“Fuck. Fuck! I know, I know...” His teeth grit together as he thinks, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. Adrenaline is starting to kick in, and he’s desperate for anything at this point.

He still has no plan in mind when he makes another split second decision to move you from where you’re currently laying. The fire is only spreading up onto the carpeted floor the two of you are on, and the smoke is getting worse by the second; this room is a hot box with no ventilation at this point. He carefully picks you up and cradles you to his chest, his wings wrapping around the both of you to both support your frame and shield you from the onslaught of unbearable heat. It forces him to take a few steps back, and he does his best to navigate through a screen of black without bumping into any furniture. He almost trips several times, but eventually he hits the opposite wall. Or, rather...

A window. Bingo.

“S’ tired...” you mumble. Your eyes are already fluttering, rolling to the back of your head as your limbs grow heavy in his arms.

“Hey, hey, this is no time to sleep! Y/N!? Come on, stay awake!”

“C’n we go...home now?”

He doesn’t like how ragged your breathing sounds.

He almost chuckles at the absurdity of the situation, but his lungs are already full of tainted air to laugh, let alone breathe properly, so he scoffs instead- and instantly regrets it. Between fits of coughs, he presses his shoulder to the glass behind you both to test the temperature, and it’s much hotter than it should be. Part of the glass is already blown out to his right, but there’s not enough space to crawl out without the jagged edges of it tearing up his flesh and wings. But if he could somehow break it...

His feathers. He’ll have to use up more of them, but if he uses the bare minimum necessary to break the glass and saves the majority, he may be able to make it out the window and fly you both to safety.

“We can’t go home yet,” he chokes out in response to you, finally. “I’m gonna get you out of here, and then you’re on your way to the hospital, yeah? You’re gonna be fine.”

He knows that to be true, so long as he can actually manage this. He backs up as far as he can go without subjecting either of you to the hot flames now openly invading the room, the entryway having burnt to a crisp already. From where he stands now, he hopes there’s enough distance to create the amount of force needed to shatter that damn glass. After a quick estimate of how many feathers he can get away with using, he readies them, and it all boils down this moment. If he can’t do this, you’ll both die. Both of your lives are at stake, resting on his weary shoulders. He can do this.

He has to.

“Wanna go home...wanna go...” You’re just murmuring to yourself, and it really puts Hawks on edge.

He hears the glass shatter before he sees it. He stumbles forward, wings still securely wrapped around you, and all but falls out of the edge of the window right before the rest of the floor collapses in on itself. He hears the devastation behind him, feels sparks on his back where the holes of his shirt meet the beginnings of his wings. He knows if he had hesitated or stayed any longer, neither of you would be alive right now.

Replacing his hold on you with his arms, he lets his wings drift open and prays he didn’t overdo it with the feathers, begs whatever gods may be listening that the two of you can at least slow the fall somehow. And to his pure joy and bliss, his wings, though bleeding and burnt and painful, are still very much holding up and allowing him to fly.

Now if he can manage to get you to a hospital...you’ll be just fine.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday8 #febuwhump2021 #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #whump #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks #keigo takami #keigo

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holylulusworld · 3 years

Text

In the books (5) - Fiction becomes reality

Summary: You’re a successful horror book author, specialized in writing about haunted places. Now you follow the Winchesters to write new books.

Pairing: Dean x Author!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, sassy reader, grumpy Dean, love-hate relationship, tension, Dean being a porn enthusiast, the reader has no shame again and is a teasing little shit in this part, smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, restraints, dominant Dean, aftercare, a hint of fluff, marking, hints of butt stuff (nothing happens)

A/N: My reader’s job got inspired by Stephen King's character Mike Enslin from 1408.

<< Part 4

In the books masterlist

“Our hero slowly unbuttons his pants, never breaking eye contact with the girl he’s about to devour. She’s dripping onto the sheets, moaning as she guesses the size of his dick,” you giggle, biting your lower lip while you watch Dean undress. “He knows she will have the night of her life.”

“Why are you talking like a narrator?” smirking Dean drops his boxers, making an odd noise sounding like a growl or snarl to you. “Dean?”

“You wanted inspiration for your next story, sweetheart,” humming you kneel on the bed, laughing as Dean stands in front of you in his naked glory. “Whaddya say?”

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester?” you giggle, patting Dean’s chest. “I think I got everything I need. This truly was an inspiration.” wondering why you get up from the bed Dean cocks a brow.

“Where are you going? I thought – I mean,” pointing toward his bed Dean watches you in confusion. “Don’t you want an answer to your question?”

“Think about the answer and-“ sliding your fingertips over his back you smirk, “surprise me, Winchester. I’m going to have a snack and will wait for you.”

“I wanted...,“ walking out of the room you smirk to yourself. You’d like to turn around to get a good look at Dean’s ass, but you want to rile the hunter up to let him lose control a little tonight. “Y/N!”

“Come to me if you found out what you want,” closing the door behind you, pressing your back against the wood you inhale deeply to calm your racing heart. You only hope you riled Dean up, not pissed him off.

“That’s how you want to play, huh?” pressed against the wall in the dungeon you whimper silently. Dean sneaked behind you a few minutes before and what can you say – he stripped you bare, bound your wrists behind your back, and now, he has you at his mercy. “I know the answer now.”

“Hmpf,” Dean smirks, hands groping your tits, lips nipping at your shoulder, he enjoys the muffled moans you press out of your throat.

“Bet you’d like to talk right now to tell me about your next book, the weather, and anything in between but-“ he bites your shoulder, makes you cry out at the pain while your pussy clenches around nothing, and your knees are about to give in.

“D-Dean,” he’s taking his time, lets his hands and lips wander all over your body, explores your trembling form with skilled hands. “Please.”

“How do you want me to fuck you, kitten? Rough and fast? Slow and gentle? Hard and mind-blowing,” you moan behind the makeshift gag, knees buckling. “Hard and mind-blowing it is, huh?”

Humming you feel his hands grip your ass roughly, spreading your cheeks.

“Hard-“ you choke out, pushing your ass into Dean’s hands. “I want you.”

“Nah, you are not calling the shots here, sweetheart. I’ll tell you what I’m going to do to you,” whimpering you nod eagerly only for Dean to take his warmth away. “Nothing. You lost your chance to have the night of your life.”

“NO!” you scream behind the gag when he wants to leave the dungeon. “I-I,” you look at Dean, jerking your head toward his crotch. “P-please?”

“Aw, look at my little author. Where is the tough girl wanting to hunt monsters and making fun of me?” Dean muses, hungrily drinking your naked body in. He leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “What do you want? Shall I fulfill your desires and dreams, fuck you hard and let you know more about me? You’ll get Dean Winchester uncensored if you won’t stop begging me.”

“Ass-“ you growl, “hole.”

“Yeah, I’d like to fuck that one too,” snickering Dean walks back toward you, eyes roaming your trembling body. “But for now,” he unzips his pants, lets his cock slap against your bare ass, “I’ll take your naughty little cunt, writer girl.”

While you grunt anytime he taps his cock against your pussy lips Dean grins behind you.

“I bet,” he whispers against your cheek, pressing his palm against your belly, pushing your ass into his crotch, “you will write the dirtiest porn when I’m done with you – if I didn’t fuck your brains out.”

“Fu-cker,” you squeal around the makeshift gag when he finally inches his way inside your body. Dean nibbles at your ear shell, moaning as he bottoms out. “Thick.”

“Yeah, my little writer. You’re so full of me,” he slowly slides back out, pausing to force another muffled groan out of your throat. “I’ll ruin your cunt and make you useless to all other guys. Only my dick will fit in from now on.”

You wish you could slap his face or tell him to fuck off and don’t be too cocky but the way he starts to move has you on the edge only moments later.

“I’ll take the gag out now to hear all the noises you can make for me,” he removes the gag, tossing it over his shoulder. “So good for me.”

“Winchester,” head hanging low you feel Dean’s rough hands grasp for your bound wrists, holding them in a tight grip. “Ah, you-“

“I what, sweetheart?” he mocks you, but you couldn’t care less; not with the way he grinds against you, dragging his cock over your g-spot. “Fuck you good?”

“So gentle,” you grin, giggling as Dean pushes against your shoulders to force you to bend over. “Hey, don’t stop.”

“I won’t, writer girl,” he growls, gripping your upper arms to drag you onto his length with every thrust. “Gonna fucking ruin you. No one can give you better inspiration for your next porn than I can.”

“Yes, fuck-“ your knees buckle, your arms slowly feel numb, but you don’t give a shit. Dean’s cock hits home with every thrust and you know, he wants you to praise him but for the first time since you met the cocky hunter, you remain silent.

“Scream for me, my famous author,” he pants, speeding up to bring you over the edge. “Let Sammy hear you’re a dirty girl and that you love my dick.”

“Fishing-“ you moan as the sudden orgasm takes your breath away, “for compliments already?” Dean stills again, groans deeply to feel your cunt grip him tightly.

“Ah, what?” pulling out Dean watches your cunt clench around nothing. “Dean?” breathlessly you moan his name, hoping to feel him cum all over you.

“Wait for it,” he growls, now pushing you to the floor, forcing you on your knees. “Have me a little longer,” roughly pushing back inside Dean immediately grips your shoulders. “Feel this?” his flesh slaps against yours, creates a melody of profanities and animalistic noises when you feel another wave build up fast.

“I’m gonna cum again,” your knees scrape painfully over the ground, with every powerful snap of Dean’s hips. “Plea-“ a strangled cry leaves your lips when you come undone, simply closing your eyes to shudder through your orgasm.

“There you go,” you feel his cum coat your ass before you even get the chance to take a breath. “Have me all over you.” He rubs his cum into your skin, making a noise you only ever heard in porn. “Next time, I’ll cum inside.”

“Jesus, Dean!”

“You fuck like an animal but carry me like a gentleman,” you tease, resting your head against Dean’s shoulder when he carries you toward the bathtub. “Aw, you made me a bubble bath.”

“More inspiration for porn,” Dean grins, watching you shake your head violently. “What? Don’t you want to have more sex tonight, sweetheart?”

“Dude, my knees are scratched, my arms still a little numb and my pussy won’t survive another meet up with your dick,” you snicker. “Did I mention you wrecked her? I will sue you if I don’t get it again because you ruined her for any other guy.”

“Guess I’ll have to give it to you-“ grinning Dean pecks your temple, “good tomorrow or later again.”

“Definitely tomorrow. Give my lady parts a break here, Winchester,” giggles bubble up your throat as Dean carefully puts you into the bathtub. You moan, closing your eyes while Dean starts to clean your body with a soft sponge. “Maybe I will write three books.”

“I inspired two write three books about me?” blinking your eyes open you lean back in the bathtub, watching Dean run the sponge over your thighs. “What will you write, sweetheart?”

“Oh, I will start with the Winchester Mystery House, then there will be a short story about a mysterious man stealing the poor girl's mind while he fucks her in a dark and creepy dungeon, threatening to do it again,” you giggle, splashing water into Dean’s face. “Last but not least, a nice short story about a guy doing awesome aftercare.”

“All of your stories are about me,” humming to himself Dean slides his hand over your thigh to tickle your skin. “I knew that I could fuck your brains out.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” you smirk. “Cocky bastard.”

“Maybe but,” leaning closer Dean pecks your lips, “not half an hour ago you were full of me and liked it, Y/N. From now on, only I’m allowed to inspire your stories.”

“The scary ones,” you deadpan, “or the naughty ones exploring my sexuality and dirty fantasies?” seductively sliding your fingers over his bicep, you batt your eyelashes. “I hope you meant the dirty ones…”

“Definitely the dirty ones,” you lean your back against Dean’s headboard, writing another line. “Uh, he gripped my body, forced me on my knees to overwhelm me with his strength. I screamed, tearing through the silence with my voice to let anyone know he just ruined my vagina.”

“No,” Dean grumbles, pointing at your notebook. “Do not use the word ‘vagina’, it sounds clinical or something. Use pussy, cunt, or sloppy hole.”

“You dirty man, Dean Winchester,” smirking you cross the word vagina out to write pussy. “Better?”

“Better. Now tell them I ruined you for any other guy. That I’m thicker than any dude you ever fucked,” you roll your eyes but truth to be told, Dean was the thickest dick you ever had. “Come on, give me that.”

“Fine, lemme just find the right words,” pinching the bridge of your nose you close your eyes, recalling the previous events. “His thick shaft split me open, ruined me for any guy wanting to-“

“Fuck me,” Dean takes the pen out of your hands, writing ‘fuck me’. “That’s perfect. Now tell them my rough and strong hands gripped your flesh and that you want more.”

“Dude are you a writer now?” you lick your lips, watching Dean snatch the notebook out of your hands to write more lines. “Dean, give it back!”

“No, I will write what I’ll do to you tomorrow,” he grins when you scoot closer to look at the pages, reading the lines Dean wrote.

“You’ll show me how to use a shotgun?” squealing you jump at Dean, arms wrapped tightly around his neck you pepper kisses all over his face. “As I fucked you?”

“I don’t want you to steal one and shoot my ass or something,” nodding you slide your hand over Dean’s chest to pat it gently. “And maybe I like you a little.”

“Last time I checked you weren’t that little…”

The End...

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savebatsfromscratch · 3 years

Text

@dancinglifeboat I wrote the fanfic finally! :D

(Also on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32517502 )

A fic about Ghostbur and c!Solidaritygaming stuck together in limbo after their deaths. :) (It's really fluffy compared to what I usually write,.,,.)

(I put triggers for a few things in the tags but here are the ones I put on Ao3:

Death Downing Loss of a loved one Body Horror Getting shot? )

Please don't copy or repost anywhere!!

JIMMY + GHOSTBUR FIC START NOWWW-

“Ah!” he screamed, stabbing pain shooting through his head. The arrow had hit him right in the face, piercing through the skin easily and passing into his brain.

His knees hit the ground heavily, causing sand getting into the wounds that covered his skin. “Scott,” he hissed, blood filling his mouth as an unbearable pain covered all other senses. He fell forwards, the pressure not only pushing the arrow further into his skull, but also chipping his last life away. It was as if he had been torn from his body and thrown back, the ghostly spirit staying floating for a moment before being dragged down, down, down, until he no longer knew which direction was up.

. . .

Darkness filled his vision, the drowned’s glowing blue eyes burning with tears as he spun through the void. His lungs seemed to be filled with water, the drowning constant and inescapable. Occasionally, he would think he would spot a star, but every time it would be swiftly snuffed out before he got a good look at it, so it wasn’t much of a comfort. He would try to scream, in pain or for help it didn’t matter, his mouth would be filled with some inky substance that choked the words away. Ears rang and buzzed as he tried to focus on any sound at all. There was so much but it was all so far away…

He missed his husband. That man would have been able to help him, he would have pulled him out of the darkness and chided him, “Be more careful around the lake Jimmy, you don’t want to drown do you?” and then he would have pulled him into a hug and run his fingers through his hair, gently asking if he was alright. ...and he would be. Everything would be good and he would be fine.

Light would filter through clouds and illuminate the flowers around the lake. The border to their side would have meant nothing, they could just hug and finally be together. Scott could teach him how to build better, slowly helping sculpt his house into slightly less of a mess. He would teach him how to play Chick-Chance and purposely pick eggs to let Scott win. Both of them would pet Daisy, pretending she was still the original. Maybe they could even have won that twisted story. Maybe, in this fantasy, Jimmy wouldn’t have been the first to die.

Dragged back into reality, he let out a pained sob, the inky blackness instantly gagging him, filling his lungs with even more unbearable sludge. It hurt so much. Why couldn’t Scott just be here with him? Why must he suffer alone? Was this what he had experienced on his first “last death”? Was that why he couldn’t remember it or much of what came before? So many questions plagued his mind, but even more pain prevented any of them from being thought about. It was blinding as the stars of night, and as smothering as the smoke from a bad memory. God it was awful.

Until it wasn’t.

He didn’t know when it happened, but at some point, the pain of the void had gone away. He had lost the memory of any cycle of time, and the only memory of “sleep” was too hard to think about. It reminded him of better times, which in turn made him think about why he was here. It was a sort of limbo, and it felt like the end of the world was already here.

But he still told himself it was alright.

-- - - - -

Sometime later something interesting happened. There was a loud sound and a huge puff of smoke. Jimmy had tried to swim away from it at first, but his eyes had caught on what was left in that smoke. A man had been left sitting there, shaking and crying, and trying desperately to leave. He seemed to be stuck on some sort of concrete square, while Jimmy could float and swim as he pleased. (However, he couldn’t really breathe, while the man on the platform seemed to be hyperventilating just fine. He wasn’t sure if he was jealous of this or not.)

Eventually, he had worked up the courage to move towards the man, but, as he did, odd things happened. He would be thrown through the blackness at random intervals, always crashing into a wall he knew was not there. He would feel an awful pain in his chest as if he was stabbed through with a sword. He would imagine odd scenes, TNT blowing up over a nation he did not know, a blue sheep walking softly through a nether portal. It had to mean something... but what? That he did not know. Of course, things he did know were shown to him as well. Memories would work their way to the surface, and as expected, they were always things he wished to forget. Bubbles rising slowly to the surface of a loser’s lagon, a church in flames, fire spreading across a cobblestone floor, a definingly loud explosion, an arrow through his skull. . . There seemed to be a sort of pattern here, but he refused to see it.

Even so, he pushed on.

The distance between the two shrank slower than he had thought possible. He would struggle through the darkness as if it was some sort of sticky slime in need of cleaning, but eventually, his squirming paid off.

His feet touched down on the island of concrete, and instantly he felt gravity fall back onto him. But that wasn’t the only thing that was back. He fell to his knees, coughing and retching, trying to get the sludge out of his lungs. He suddenly felt the need to breathe burning through him, and honestly, the scared voice asking if he was alright was the least of his worries right now. He hacked and choked, until, with a loud and wet splattering sound, a hunk of black-ish purple goo hit the ground in front of him.

He stayed that way for a moment, trembling and relishing the air. Even if it was sort of the opposite of fresh, he hadn’t taken a breath in so long that it could have been a newly discovered continent, it felt so good. However, as he stared into the purple-ish goo that he had expelled from his lungs, he became increasingly aware of eyes on his back. After a few moments of frozen fear, he remembered why he was here in the first place. A man, on the edge of a train station floating in the void. He looked up.

There he stood, cowering slightly, pure white eyes staring into his own muted ones. He had on an oversized sweater stained with something blue, and hands covered with a similar shade. The man was a curious fellow, that’s for sure, but Jimmy had already known that. All that struggling through limbo to get to him had pretty much cemented the image in his mind. (Not to mention all of the other curious fellows he had known in his… life.)

After a minute of staring at each other, the man finally spoke, “Who are you?” he asked, his voice was airy and slightly echoey, which would have been weird if Jimmy wasn’t dead.

He thought for a moment, wondering which of his many names would be the best introduction in this inky world. Not Jimmy, no, that might remind him of Scott. (Just the thought of his husband tore an aching hole in his heart.) And not Timmy either, that brought back memories of Grian…

“I’m Ghostbur by the way,” Jimmy looked up, eyes widening slightly at the abrupt speaking. The man didn’t seem to mind though, “In case you didn’t want to go first,”

Jimmy smiled at this, Ghostbur seemed to be a wonderful man, even if he did find it a little odd that he didn’t seem at all disturbed by his entrance to the room. It had been rather odd.

“I’m Solidarity,” He finally said, his voice sounding stronger compared to Ghostbur’s, despite the slight croak in it from not speaking for so long. (Not to mention the drowning.)

“Solidarity? That’s a nice name,” The man smiled slightly at him, his voice and movements seeming to blur around the edges as he walked to a different tile. How strange. It reminded him of how he had been back on his last server, how, instead of having bloodlust, he had begun to crumble away. It wasn’t a memory he liked to think about.

“Thank you,” Jimmy finally said, pausing for a moment before quickly adding, “I find your name quite nice as well,” He felt awkward in the conversation. It had been so long since he had talked to someone.

“Thank you!” Ghostbur replied, happily spinning around once, a drop of the blue stuff falling off his hand onto the floor as he did, “It’s ‘Wilbur’ bur with ‘Ghost’ instead of ‘Will’,” here he suddenly became serious, though the same airly tone was kept, “But please don’t call me Wilbur, I am not him,”

Solidarity nodded, not quite understanding the request but knowing that it was important to follow such things. Who knows? Maybe this ‘Wilbur’ guy had done some really bad things that Ghostbur had gotten blamed for. It didn’t seem very likely, but who’s to say that it wasn’t true?

They stood there for a moment longer, Ghostbur humming to himself quietly, eyes closed as if he was imagining that he was someplace else. Jimmy cocked his head to the side, trying to get up the courage to ask something. What that ‘something’ was was still a work in progress though. Maybe he could ask about the weird visions he had gotten as he tried to get here, maybe ask about the blue stuff that occasionally dripped onto the floor. Maybe Jimmy could even ask if this man knew where they were, or about the train that had dropped him off. It was worth trying.

But before he got too, Ghostbur spoke again. His voice rang across the concrete floor, almost as if there was a large room that surrounded only him. “You have very nice eyes Mr. Solidarity,” he said, “They are a very pretty blue,”

Jimmy smiled weakly at that, “They used to be more so, but... something happened,” of course, he wasn’t going to share what that something was, drowning wasn’t a very fun topic for small talk.

Luckily for him though, the man didn’t press, “I find them very nice,” he said matter-a-factly, “Much better than all of this red,” he shuddered and shut his eyes, the light from them extinguished like a communicator band being shut off. But that disappearance of the whiteness wasn’t that important, especially when held up to what Ghostbur had just said. Red? What red? Solidarity looked around and saw none. Only the blackness of the void and the flat grey of the tiles beneath their feet.

“But you are here!” Ghostbur suddenly said, looking up very quickly as he did, "And you wear blue clothes, and have blue eyes, and slightly blue skin!” The man laughed softly at his luck. Jimmy however, cringed back, yes his skin was slightly blue now, but that was because of his… deaths. (Drowneds tended to have at least slightly blue skin.)

...But what Ghostbur was saying hadn’t been meant to be rude, so Jimmy just ignored the slight pain in his lungs at the memories and laughed along with the other man. (Who, by the way, seemed delighted to finally be distracted by whatever he saw around them. By now Solidarity had guessed it was much different than his own view. Though what that entailed was entirely up for debate.)

“It’s great to have another person here!” The man’s voice cracked at the end of his sentence, but instead of sounding funny or endearing, it sounded like he was trying to keep Jimmy here. Like a small animal searching for a parent. Something that Jimmy could wholeheartedly relate to, despite how sad it may be.

But he wasn’t longing for a parent or friend, he was crying for Scott, and he had a feeling that this Ghostbur wasn’t looking for a family member either. . . . Though he had never been great at interpreting things so he could be wrong.

“It is great to have another person here. I was floating in that void for so long you wouldn’t believe,” Solidarity grimaced, the thought of it reminding him of the icky slime choking him. Painful and disgusting, two of the things you hoped you wouldn’t run into after death.

“Void?” Ghostbur innocently asked, prompting Solidarity to look up at the other man in confusion. He had guessed that he had been seeing things differently than Ghostbur, but he had been thinking like… a shift in color. Not a whole different place.

He nodded slowly, eyes locked on Ghostbur’s. The glowing white of them was unyielding of any emotion, “Yeah the void,” he turned and gestured vaguely towards the inky blackness behind him, “Where I came from?” he looked back to see that Ghostbur had cocked his head to the side. Confusion now painted on his face.

“Mr. Solidarity, that's a wall,” he said softly, “A wall that opened into a door that you climbed out of,” his voice shook a bit more than it had previously, Jimmy frowned at this, the motion only deepening when Ghostbur continued, “The door is gone now, but you definitely did come out of one,”

Solidarity shook his head slowly, eyes kept on Ghostbur’s the whole time, “Ghostbur I swear that I’m seeing blank blackness out there,” he turned to look at the ‘blank blackness’ and stared into it. Yep, that was definitely not a wall. He looked back at Ghostbur in time for the man to speak.

“I see a concrete wall,” he spoke quietly and uncertainly, as if he was suddenly not so sure of it himself, “A concrete wall with windows filled with red,” his voice broke upon mentioning the color, and Jimmy suddenly realised what the man had meant by the, ‘much better than all this red,’ earlier.

“Ah well, maybe one of us is wrong,” Jimmy quickly said, taking a step forward and attempting to set his hand on Ghostbur’s shoulder, but to his surprise, it went right through him. It wasn’t like there was nothing there really, more like a really warm summer day, one where you could have sworn that you were underwater.

They both stared at each other for a moment, but the slightly shocked silence was broken when Ghostbur continued their conversation. “I hope that I’m wrong,” he whispered, taking a step back and causing another drop of the blue stuff to hit the ground. It landed in the crack between two tiles, and spread out accordingly, but Solidarity saw none of this, only thinking about his hand going right through the man. Ghostbur, that was his name, but could he really be… well, a ghost? Jimmy was dead, so maybe this guy was as well?

Jimmy turned and stared at the void behind him, the blackness causing strange patterns in his vision the more he stared at it. He wondered if that was his eyes being bad again or just a trick of the light, either way, it did nothing to comfort the growing worry in his stomach. If this ghost had pulled into this place, could it be possible to get out? Maybe Jimmy could see Scott again.

He looked back at Ghostbur, not at all surprised to see the man standing right where he had been left, shaking slightly and looking about the platform. His eyes reflected a reddish color that Jimmy could not see coming from anywhere else. This saddened him, maybe the color that seemed to scare him so much was really all around him. It was comparable to his swim through the darkness, the sludge filling his lungs and drowning out both his own sounds and everything else's. (Not to mention drowning him.)

“Hey-” he started, taking a deep breath before continuing, “Ghostbur, why is it that you are… here?” he tried, cringing inwardly at the question he had asked, a feeling only magnified by the ghost’s reaction to it. He looked directly into Jimmy’s eyes, sadness visible in the glowing white things even without an iris or pupil to help them.

“I was… killed by someone,” he sniffled angrily, voice shaking violently the longer the sentence went on, “I thought it was going to be oka-y,” he cried, voice echoing around the area while still sounding as non-threatening as it had from the start.

“It’s alright-” Solidarity started, stepping forwards and just barely stopping himself from putting his hand on the other’s shoulder, “I was, um, murdered as well,” he scratched the back of his head, “... so I understand what your going through,”

Ghostbur nodded and inhaled shakily (yet ever so bravely), “Thank you Mr. Solidarity,” he looked to the ground, glowing eyes half-closed and full of tears, “It means a lot that you are here,” he paused for a moment, as if trying to think of what to say, “Thank you for being my friend,” he finally finished, looking up to look at the drowned man.

Jimmy simply nodded, glad to see that the crying seemed to be over, “Thank you for being my friend too,” He smiled, “It’s been so long since I had someone to talk to,”

Ghostbur nodded back at him, his airy laugh filling the void with a warmth that wouldn’t normally be expected of such a place. It was calming, and Jimmy was truly glad he was here. A ghost and a drowned, an unlikely, but hopefully long-lasting friendship.

-- - - - -

It had been many uncountable days sitting there, oncationaly comforting his new ghost friend (or the other way around), staring into the blackness and discussing what was seen there (a wall apparently), or even sharing past stories. Ghostbur talked fondly of a blue sheep he had known while he was alive, and Jimmy was happily able to discuss fun stories from X-Life. (Because the wounds were less fresh than 3rd Life.) Ghostbur took delight in the tales of Jeremyism and the Coven, and always had something cryptic to add about his own past. It was nice, but it sure wasn’t comfortable, for, whenever you think about happy memories, painful ones pop up.

That was how they had ended up in this position. Ghostbur leaned on Jimmy’s shoulder (Because he couldn’t lean on him) while both of them thought about sad things. Ghostbur would occasionally sniffle and wipe his face with his arms. But the rising steam off his tears didn’t shock Solidarity anymore, it had become normal. He supposed that was what happened when you were dead and didn’t have anything to do.

Jimmy leaned back, shifting a bit more weight to his arms, and sighed. He felt Ghostbur adjust his potion slightly to follow the movement, the Ghost’s arms were wrapped around him and occasionally clipping just a centimeter or two into his sides.

“What is it?” Asked Ghostbur, his friend’s voice was shaky and brave, as if he was struggling to hold back his tears, which, of course, he was.

Jimmy sighed again before speaking, not really caring that the sound was getting repetitive, there were only the two of them here anyway. “I was just thinking about someone that I miss,” He turned to look at Ghostbur, the man’s white eyes blurring around the edges with burning tears, “I’m sure you have people like that,”

For a moment Ghostbur didn’t move and Solidarity regretted his phrasing, but before he could apologize, his friend spoke. “I do miss many people,” he whispered, “Tommy, Ranboo, Friend,” he sighed, the sound a direct contrast to the recent two Jimmy had just made. Instead of being loud and sudden, it seemed to blend in with the nothingness around the two. Though both seemed just as hopeless as the other. (Maybe that’s just what happened when you were stuck in limbo without your loved ones.)

It was a moment before either continued the conversation, instead choosing to rest in each other’s company. Sure they may not have their traditional loved-ones, but at least they had a friend.

“You’ve talked about them right?” Jimmy whispered, staring off into the blank space that surrounded the platform. (Even if he appeared to be staring at a wall from Ghostbur’s perspective.)

“I have,” the man replied simply. He sounded slightly hopeful, but Jimmy really didn’t know why.

“Were they good friends?” he tried

Ghostbur smiled and clipped a little further into his ribs, “Yes they were good friends,” he paused for a moment before finishing off his statement, “For the most part anyway,”

Jimmy nodded and tried his best to not attempt to hug Ghostbur back. You see, the ghost could touch him, but he could not do the same if that makes sense. It was the intent of the movements. If Ghostbur wanted to shake his hand, they could, as long as Jimmy didn’t shake his hand back. (Because if he did his hand would go right through the other’s.) But he did really want to hug Ghostbur sometimes, as a lot of friends do.

“Not all of my friends were always nice to me,” he comforted Ghostbur, hoping that the words would work in place of a hug. As Ghostbur lessened his grip and smiled at him however, Jimmy’s thoughts were plunged into darkness. Memories of two of the nations he had lived in in the past, X Life and 3rd Life, filled his brain. Scott, Tango, Skizz, even Joel. How could any of them have done that stuff? He forgave Scott of course, as the poor man was his husband after all, but all the others? He wasn’t so sure about them.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Ghostbur speaking, the ghost’s airy voice blowing away the negative emotions he had been feeling a moment before. “You are very kind Mr. Solidarity,” he said, “And, I know I say this a lot, but I am glad to have you,” The words were so genuine that Solidarity couldn’t help but smile.

“That's great to hear man,” he whispered, “I love you too,” and, when Ghostbur looked at him oddly, Jimmy simply laughed. “As a friend! As a friend,” here he looked at the aforementioned friend and paused for a moment, “Do friends ever say where you are from?”

Ghostbur thought about this for a moment, really pondering the fact apparently, because it was a full 10 seconds before he spoke. (Jimmy counted.) “Yes they did, but,” here the ghost blushed a blue that would have calmed him down if he could see it, “Not many people really said it to me,”

Jimmy sighed and wished for the second time that conversation to just be a ghost, and not a drowned, so he could hug the poor man. “You deserve people saying they love you, don’t ever let anyone say otherwise,”

Ghostbur smiled that soft smile of his and laughed, the sound echoing around the train station that Jimmy could not see. “Don’t worry Mr. Solidarity, I don’t think there is anyone else here to tell me that,” and, though it was a joke, the words made the drowned sad, he laughed along with Ghostbur (because it truly was a funny joke) but inside he was worried. Why were they the only ones here? If this was an afterlife, why weren’t the other people on 3rd life here? He knew he was the first to die in that nation, but surely others had died by now . . . right? Suddenly his heart sank, unless everyone had been released from the spell when he had died.

If that was truly the case, why had the rules of the land been worded that way? And, as an even worse thought, if it wasn’t the case, where was everyone? He scanned the void around for any signs of life, hoping the whole time that Ghostbur didn’t notice his worry. The last thing he wanted was for his only friend here to see him upset. (Sure it had happened many times before, but it was so awful every time.) But no, no more chunks of land in the sky were found. Maybe they were still spiraling through it, possibly with the sense of burning or being struck with arrows? How was he to know their deaths, he had gone first.

Unfortunately for him, Ghostbur’s innocent voice interrupted his thinking, “Are you alright?” he asked, sounding very concerned and decently curious. Both good things if you are looking for comfort, but not so good if you want to bury the emotions and never have them be found.

He looked at the other man, eyes taking just a moment to focus on his friend’s face. Friendly void like eyes with grey-ish hair, he couldn’t name a better duo. (Well he could, but thinking about himself and Scott made him sad.)

“Uh yeah, I’m fine,” he said, hoping to Prime, Jeremy, or any other god out there (maybe even Kristen) that Ghostbur couldn’t tell he was lying. However, they must not have heard him, because a moment later his friend shook his head and frowned at him.

“I can tell when you are lying about something,” the friendly ghost chided him, “and after all that cheering up you keep making me do, I want to help you!”

That was a sweet gesture, but oh it came at such a bad time.

“No really! I’m doing good-” Jimmy started, but he was put to a stop by the other man standing up and grabbing his hand. He could have just pulled away, but he was rather curious now.

“Come,” Ghostbur said simply, leading him away from their spot. As he was dragged forwards, Jimmy smiled slightly at the blue stain spreading to his own fingers, that wasn’t going to come out any time soon. It would eventually fade (As the two had discovered by the puddles of blue about the station disappearing.) but it would take a while. It never seemed to fade from Ghostbur though, he wondered why that was…

“Here!” Ghostbur said happily, pushing Jimmy forwards and what he guessed was some sort of wall. (He couldn’t see it though.)

He looked at his friend in confusion, gesturing to the space in front of him and shrugging. When Ghostbur looked at him with the same expression that Jimmy had, the drowned explained. “I can’t see what’s here, it’s all just void to me,”

Ghostbur frowned at this, eyes narrowing in thought as he did. “He must be thinking about how to show whatever it is to me,” Jimmy thought, “It must be really important then,”

After just a moment Ghostbur seemed to come to a conclusion, carefully stepping up to the edge on the platform and standing on his tiptoes. Jimmy bit his lip, even though he knew that Ghostbur saw a wall there (And for him there really was one, Jimmy had seen him climb it before.) he was still worried. He didn’t want his friend to fall into the void.

He looked away as Ghostbur seemed to teeter on the edge, arms reached up as if to grab something. He was too afraid to check what was going on. RIP! Solidarity looked up, suddenly extremely confused what that sound had been. What he saw however, shocked him.

Ghostbur was standing in the same place as before, but in his hands was some sort of poster style advertisement. It was missing the very top corner of it, and Jimmy guessed that that was what had made the ripping noise. However, he had never been so happy to see such a damaged piece of art.

“Do you like it?” Asked Ghostbur expectantly, handing him the poster with his blue-stained hands. All Jimmy could do was nod, taking the picture and holding it close to him. Sure, it was monochromatic red, and stained with blue from the hands of his friend, but it was a picture of someone he loved dearly. Scott.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Jimmy managed to get a word out, hugging the advertisement to his chest as he spoke, he said, “How do you have this?” His voice sounded weak even to him, it was in stark contrast to his normal tone, which opted to sound strong and confident. But, neither was bad.

Ghostbur laughed, hugging his friend in what could only be described as a pounce. “It was on the wall! Along with several other advertisements for other things that I know. El Rapids, the Egg, things like that,” the ghost pulled back out of the hug, giving Jimmy more room to look at his new favorite thing, “MCC fits in right with them,” he finished. He sounded truly proud of himself, though his voice still echoed around the edges, it was a nice change.

“Thank you so much, how can I-?” Jimmy stared, looking up from the photo of his husband and back into his friend’s face as he was shushed.

“You don’t have to do anything! I just wanted to cheer you up,” the ghost grinned, hands still strongly held on Solidarity’s arms. It was a friendly gesture, and since it only slightly hindered his ability to see the paper, he didn’t ask his friend to stop.

After a moment of happy silence, Jimmy spoke, and, though his voice shook as he did, it was purely joyful. “You certainly cheered me up,” he smiled, turning to his friend with eyes full of newfound appreciation.

Ghostbur only laughed.

-- - - - -

Since that last memory, Ghostbur had become more vocal about the train station around them. (Or just him? Jimmy couldn’t really tell.) He explained the staircase that was closed and unclimbable, and was impressed when Jimmy guessed that it was that way because it was off the platform he could see. Ghostbur expressed his distaste for the lights above, apparently, they were a very bright and uncomfortable red. Solidarity expressed his pity for his friend and was sure to try to comfort him. The ghost thanked him profusely and explained that it was starting to hurt less now that they had been here for more than two months. This confused Jimmy, both because he couldn’t believe it had been that long and because he couldn’t believe it hadn’t been longer (not even mentioning how he didn’t have a guess how Ghostbur knew that), but he didn’t say anything.

Or at least, for a while the lights were getting better.

Ghostbur consistently complained about cracks in his vision, in a normal situation, Jimmy would have found this to be nothing to worry about. Sunlight causes vision to wig out, that’s just a known fact, but that didn’t quite explain what was happening with his friend. Probably because, well, there wasn’t really any sun here, and though darkness would also cause sight to mess with itself, Ghostbur wasn’t exactly surrounded by the same void that JImmy was.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked, putting a stop to his friend’s frantic rambling in a way that he hoped wasn’t too harsh. He knew it wasn’t always a good idea to interpret someone while they talked about something important to them. (This was known for many reasons, but a big one for Jimmy was how when, back on Evo of course, Grian was excitedly explaining the best ways to prank people and was rudely interrupted. It wouldn’t normally be a problem to make someone shut up if they were talking about the best way to kill you, but Grian was a different breed. His whole house had been full of traps the next time he had stepped into it. Oh what a time.) But, back in the present, he did know that he deserved to be worried if his only accessible friend was having health problems.

Ghostbur sighed, burying his head in his knees and nodding into them. “I’m fine Mr. Solidarity,” he finally said, “My eyes just hurt a little bit,” (In the last few words his voice escalated in an octave and gained some echo, both of which made Jimmy think that maybe he wasn’t so fine.)

“Are you sure-?” he started, cutting himself off when he accidentally sent his hand through his friend’s shoulder trying to pat him on it.

Ghostbur stifled a laugh and pushed his hand away, “I’ll be fine, things are just feeling a bit bright again,” Jimmy would have accepted that answer had it not been for the slight shaking in the other man’s voice, as it was, the only person he could talk to was this guy, and if he got hurt, well, Jimmy would be plagued with non-ending worry.

He didn’t act on his thoughts though, opting instead to stare into the void with a concerned look in his eyes. It was easier to think if you had the right emotion for the job that was for sure.

But instead of instantly knowing what to do, he was instead plagued with thoughts of all the things that could be going wrong. Was Ghostbur melting away? It seemed unlikely, but he supposed that since he didn’t know how this limbo thing worked, it could work like that. Or maybe Ghostbur was going blind? That wasn’t necessarily a bad option, because he knew that people could still live wonderful fulfilling lives while being blind, but it did take some getting used to. Or- no wait, why was he doing this? Ghostbur could have simply strained his eye for all he knew, he didn’t have access to every emotion he felt. . . .but something in the back of his mind still told him to help.

-and that’s when he got it. The perfect plan.

“What are you doing?” Ghostbur asked, his voice a rather well mixed mash of curiosity, confusion and pain. But Jimmy couldn’t really argue with them, as they all fit the situation perfectly.

“I’m just tearing a bit of fabric off my sleeve,” he answered casually, doing just as he said.

He felt Ghostbur stare at him for a few moments, those pure white eyes boring right through his body the whole time. “But…” He could almost hear Ghostbur blushing as he paused, “Isn't that going to be permanent…? We don’t have a needle or any thread,”

Now it was Jimmy’s turn to flush as his friend’s confused and echoey voice told him things he already knew. “Well I thought that maybe if your eyes hurt it was a good idea to rest them,” he admitted, finishing off the strip of fabric with a satisfying ripping noise as he finished speaking, “So I’m making you an eye mask,”

Ghostbur emited a sound that could have been either one of appreciation or worry. Jimmy hoped it was the earlier option.

“That is very nice of you,” the ghost whispered, and, as Jimmy saw when he looked back at him, closed his eyes and stuffed his head into his sweatshirt. Probably hoping to get some of that ‘rest’ that Jimmy had mentioned earlier.

But he continued to work, checking the fabric for gross looking sections as he went. (Being undead, he had some rotting patches of skin and truth be told, he didn’t really want any of that getting into Ghostbur’s already hurting eyes.) Once that task was done, Solidarity sighed and leaned back on the concrete floor, searching the empty platform for things to make the eye mask look better. Of course he found nothing.

Was the gift done? He wanted to be absolutely sure that this was what his friend deserved. (Which was the best of course.) He didn’t think it was done, but there wasn’t much more he could really do with it. He could probably pull one of the flowers out of his hair to decorate it with, but the two dead men had already figured out that flowers followed in their footsteps when unattached from Jimmy. It was a blessing and a curse really. Having such nice plants right there but not being able to remove them (even to see them) for fear they would be gone forever.

He supposed that the gift must be done if he couldn’t do anything more with it. He looked sadly down at the new torn patch in his sleeve, hopefully Ghostbur would like this eye mask, blindfold thing, because if he didn’t Jimmy would have just torn away part of his sleeve for no reason.

He waited as long as he could, listening to the soft breathing of his sleeping friend the whole time. (Apparently it was effective to sleep with your head shoved into your sweatshirt, who knew.) But after a few minutes of fidgeting, he decided he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Ghostbur?” he asked, tapping the concrete floor as loudly as he dared, “I think I’m done with the thing,”

Instead of waking up however, Ghostbur simply rolled over, his face slipping out of his sweatshirt and coming to meet the floor instead. His nose came to a rest right over the edge of the border between two tiles. It was almost as if it was made for exactly this situation, that made Jimmy laugh, maybe he should let him rest a bit longer.

He laid back down, though he was unsure of when he had sat back up really, must have happened while he was thinking. The floor was just as uncomfortable and cold as it always was, but as he flattened against it he realised how tired he was, and, closing his eyes, he dipped into sleep.

He dreamed.

He dreamed that he was back in life, but it was a strange sort of life. Many friends he had known were there, and though not all of them made sense to be in that same place (Netty and Lizzy for example,) one stood out past any others. Among all the evolutionists, X lifers, and 3rd lifers there stood one ghost. One ghost among the undead and unknown.

“Hello Mr. Solidarity!” his friend happily called, “I’m so happy to meet all your friends!” Jimmy noticed that his voice was unnaturally strong for him, but he didn’t mind it, instead choosing to indulge in this fantasy of a dream.

“Hey Ghostbur,” he smiled, reaching out to shake hands with his friend, and not questioning when he was able to initiate the touch, “What’s going on over on the Dream SMP?”

Ghostbur pouted and shook his head, “The trains keep pulling into the station,”

If Solidarity had heard such a thing in normal life, he would have questioned why it had been said, however, because this was a dream, he didn’t think twice, instead shaking his head understandingly. “That really stinks man,” he closed his eyes and threw his head back to the sky, “Who’s driving them this time?” It was nonsensical words, but a small bit of logic in the back of his head told him that maybe it was important.

Reacting as if his subconscious was correct, Ghostbur looked from side to side, almost as if he was trying to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation, before he continued. “It’s been Dream most times, but the other day I saw a bunch of blue lambs in the driver's seat instead,”

Jimmy laughed as Ghostbur did, the former serious state of the conversation evaporating as his knowledge of his dreaming state did. Now it was just a fun little brain story, as a lot of things are.

“Say, Ghostbur,” he started, a giddy smile plastered on his face as he spoke, “Have you seen Scott around here?” (If Jimmy was still even a little awake he would have remembered that the dream had placed his husband right beside him, but he was fully asleep by now.)

Ghostbur shook his head, shrugging even as his smile refused to waver, “I have not seen him,” Suddenly, a cold feeling filled the air. Solidarity looked up in fear as Ghostbur put a hand on his chest. “Why don’t you go see him?” The smile twisted as his hand pushed right through him, and pain shot through his body as blankness filled his vision.

Jimmy woke in a cold sweat, sitting up faster than was really necessary as he did. What the heck was that?! A weird dream that’s what. He looked down at his hand, breathing slowing to a more normal pace as he stared at the object there. Ghostbur was absolutely correct, blue could calm a person down. He stared for a moment, evening his breaths and trying to figure out what in the world he had been thinking about a moment before. But, as all dreams do, it was gone in seconds.

He turned to Ghostbur and was happy to see his friend laying half asleep next to him, eyes open halfway and reflecting the red they always did. He looked so tired and Solidarity found it funny, he usually woke up rather fast, but it had already been proven many times that Ghostbur was not like him in that regard. Sure, they may both be dead, but they sure as heck don’t wake up at the same speed.

They stayed that way for a few moments, only stopping when Ghostbur turned to him and yawned, which was so funny that Jimmy simply had to laugh. Ghostbur’s sleepy blinking as he tried to figure out what was so funny acted only as fuel to the fire that was Jimmy’s amusement.

Eventually however, he managed to calm down, taking the chance to hand Ghostbur the piece of fabric and explain what it was for, “This is supposed to be an eye mask,” he started, gesturing at the object now clutched in his friend’s grasp, “You put it over your eyes to block out light. I thought that you might like having something blue to hide all that red,”

It took a moment for Ghostbur to react, but once he did, he was very thankful. Instantly tying the thing around his head and gasping with joy.

“It works!” he yelped, his voice sounding even more echoey than it normally did. (Thanks to his tiredness Jimmy guessed.) “Thank you so much!” He smiled an eyeless smile at his friend, “I am glad that I have this,”

“You’re welcome,” Solidarity grinned, “I’m glad it does,” They sat that way for a moment, Ghostbur happily humming to himself as he stared into the blue fabric. However, Solidarity instantly found it in him to speak again, “But do you want to uh.. See anything?” he gestured around himself before remembering that Ghostbur probably couldn’t tell he was doing it, “There’s the void right over there,”

Ghostbur laughed an echoey laugh and shook his head, “I can’t fall into it remember? Plus, there isn't really that much around to look at,”

He couldn’t argue with that.

-- - - - -

Jimmy had grown to like this new home, and (with the help of his fabric piece) Ghostbur had too. They had figured out how to make it comfortable, however, there was no way to deny that it was still limbo. It had been so long since Jimmy had been in the void that he hardly remembered what it felt like, so sometimes he longed for that feeling again, but every time those sorts of thoughts appeared, the happiness in that empty station brought him back. It was so nice, him and a good friend, two people able to bond over shared experiences despite not knowing each other in life. The causal energy of that sort of thing was nothing less than a breeding ground for laziness, and he was glad for it.

But it was in the moments lazing around the platform (staring at his MCC advertisement and being hugged by Ghostbur that is) that he noticed something. Something… new.

He sat up, causing Ghostbur’s arms to pass right through his chest and his shoes to make an awful squeaking noise against the concrete floor, and stared into the void. What he saw there was nothing short of a shock.

There, nestled against the blanketing blackness of nothingness, sat a place he knew. A welcomingly sunny valley with a beautifully built home and a lake that spilled into nothing. But most importantly, he could see movement. Specifically flowers wavering in the wind and a blurry person making their way across the clearing. Could it be?

“What is it?” Ghostbur asked curiously, standing slowly as he removed the makeshift blindfold to get a better look at whatever it was. But instead of cocking his head to the side and complaining about the walls and red lights, he blinked a few times before gasping.

“Can you see it?” Solidarity asked, breathlessly making his way to the edge of the platform. When no response came, he wondered if his friend had responded with a nod or a shake of his head, and he was tempted to look back, but only for a moment. His eyes were too glued to the island to worry about such a thing. (Not that Ghostbur’s input was unimportant, there were just a few more important things happening. Not even including the speeding beating of his heart and the hope spreading through his soul.)

But as Jimmy stood on his tiptoes on the edge of the station, Ghostbur’s response came. “Is this what you’ve been seeing all this time?” He whispered, “It’s beautiful…”

Jimmy turned to his friend, “I don’t know what you are seeing, but if it’s blackness with no stars, then yes,” (He found that paying attention to the person you have spent nearly three months with was sort of important, you don’t want them to leave do you?)

Ghostbur slowly shook his head, happy looking tears spilling down his face and causing wisps of smoke to float off into nothingness. “No,” he choked, “There's something out there,” he gestured to the void, “Out there in all that darkness, there is something bright and blue,”

Solidarity turned back to what he was talking about, happy to see that it was still there. “Well,” he smiled, “That’s a new addition,”

They stood there for a moment, poster and chunk of fabric forgotten on the floor behind them, there was simply something better now. It was a nice moment, a drowned and his ghost friend standing on the edge of everything they could ever want, but it was so far away, how would they get to it? He started at the thought, was that what he wanted to do? Abandon the life he had found here in favor of chasing what might be a lie? It only took a few moments of thinking for him to determine that if he were to leave this station, he would be bringing Ghostbur with him, like it or not. …but how would he do that?

“What are you thinking about?” Ghostbur asked, his voice still full of disbelief and joy, despite the genuine question he had just asked.

“Home,” Jimmy said breathlessly, despite not turning back around to Ghostbur (He could not tear his eyes away this time.), he could hear his friend respond to the word. He didn’t speak or anything, but only gasped, probably recognising the far away island from the stories he had been told.

They stood there a bit longer, but this time was cut short when a loud sound rocked the station. Instantly, both men looked at each other and then the floor around them. Terror filled Jimmy’s heart as he snatched up his picture of Scott, Ghostbur instantly following in his footsteps and picking up his fabric piece. They had talked about what would happen if bad things happened to their land, but of course, with a loud noise, there were two main options they had thought up. One, a train pulling up to take them out of the station (or someone else in), or, worse really, the land itself crumbling, and well, judging by quickly spreading cracks in the floor, it was the latter.

“Ghostbur!” Jimmy shouted, his heart beating a million miles per hour, “Grab my hand!” His friend quickly reached out and did so. They locked eyes, fear coursing through both of them.

“I really hope this works,” Ghostbur whispered, and, as cracks formed below their feet, Jimmy nodded. He braced himself for just a moment, and only when a bit of the floor fell away did he jump back, back into the suffocating void of nothingness.

They floated in place for a moment, Ghostbur looking relieved when they didn’t instantly fall, but the hopeful expression was quickly gone when he realised that he couldn’t get air in. He looked at Jimmy panic spreading across his face as he clawed at his throat, the bit of blue fabric still clutched in between his fingers. Jimmy simply nodded, himself feeling the effect of the air deprivation, but he was so shocked with the feeling of being there, in true limbo, that he forgot to get them out.

Ghostbur seemed to realise that Jimmy was frozen but after a few moments of struggling against the inky darkness he realised he could not move them. Terror was on his face as the blue stuff began to soak his chest, he clawed at Jimmy, shaking him as best he could in the antigravity, which of course wasn’t that great. ...which didn’t matter all that much, because Solidarity thankfully remembered what was happening and began to struggle against the current of the void.

It was like he was drowning again, burning pain filling his body as he did everything in his power to keep his mouth shut. (Because if he didn’t it would just hurt more.) It had been… so long, since he had been here, that he had nearly forgotten how to maneuver in it, and thanks to Ghostbur’s extra weight, and the poster in his hands, it was even more difficult than it needed to be.

But still he struggled, fought against the weight, kicking his legs and hard as he could, willing himself to move, really anything that would work, and, eventually, they began to move. He hugged Ghostbur to his chest, trying to tell the poor ghost that they would get there soon, just to please, please hold on. They began to really move now, and he was hurtling through space again, the familiar feeling of panic amplified now that he had a friend to worry about, as far as he knew Ghostbur might not be able to survive this.

They moved along, Ghostbur’s body shaking as he lost every last bit of oxygen, trying to hold on just a bit longer-

They were almost there, one kick…

Two kicks.

Three kicks. Ghostbur fell limp.

Four kicks-

Solidarity tumbled to the ground, rolling through the grass and staying there. He inhaled so shakily and violently, one could have thought he was actually dying… erm, again. But after just a few seconds of regaining sensation in his limbs, he forced himself to sit up, turning to Ghostbur’s body lying still in the flowers.

“What-!” he heard a familiar voice from behind him, and then running footsteps, but he couldn’t turn to Scott and tell him how much he missed him yet, no, he had to save his friend.

“Ghostbur!” He yelled, his voice gravely and broken, and he gasped as a bit of the dark sludge dripped out of it, splashing pathetically next to the poor ghost. He shook him, not paying attention to Scott’s fraintic gasp and questions as Solidarity tried to wake his friend up.

“Please just… just be alive!” he inhaled sharply and pressed onto Ghostbur’s chest, hoping that the movement would dislodge some of the ink.

Ghostbur coughed and sat up, narrowly avoiding Jimmy’s forehead on the way. He was shaking violently, shivering and gasping for air as blackness poured from his mouth only resting as it mixed with the blue soaking his body.

“Oh my go-” Scott cut himself off, running forwards and pushing Jimmy out of the way to properly reach the injured ghost. As his husband lay in the grass, Scott began to ask Ghostbur questions. Things like, “How are you here?!”, “What happened to your sweatshirt?”, and most importantly, “Are you okay?”

He wanted to ask Scott why he wasn’t asking him if he was okay, but Jimmy knew this was important, so he stayed right where he was, staring at the sky, which was somehow blue again.

Any worry he had evaporated when Ghostbur spoke, his voice still as echoey as ever, despite the clear lack of a station around them. “I’m okay,” he said shakily, before turning to look at Jimmy, and obviously worried, he asked, “Mr. Solidarity, are you okay?”

Jimmy nodded, feeling tears drip down the sides of his face as he did, “Yeah I’m okay Ghostbur,” he slowly sat up, and, looking at his husband and his friend, he realised he never wanted this moment to end, “I’m just alright,”

-- - - - -

It had been a few weeks since they had arrived here, and Jimmy had no way to explain to himself quite how much he had missed the sun and the real stars. It was really home, beautifully decorated and exactly what they had always wanted it to be, with the uh, small addition of a little ghost friend. Apparently, Scott and WIlbur had known each other (who Wilbur was Jimmy didn’t know) and because of that bond, Scott and Ghostbur got along quite well. And of course Ghostbur and Jimmy had become great friends over the course of their existence at the train station.

Another thing Jimmy hadn’t known he would miss was real water, and the ability to get out of it when it felt icky. The first time he had gone swimming he was hesitant to get in the lake, explaining that he just didn’t trust himself in it, he would find a way to forget where he was and drown he was sure. And so Scott had gone swimming without him. (Ghostbur stating rather plainly that water burned him, and then heading off to go pick some of the flowers that scattered the grass.) But after a bit of watching Scott splash around, still in his full normal outfit, Jimmy decided that it would be fun.

When Ghostbur returned he found the two flower husbands happily sitting in the water and talking to each other. He had waited there for a moment apparently, unseen and listening to his two friends talk about random things, but had soon grown bored and told them he was there. (Which jumpscared Scott so hard he nearly flew out of the pool.) Jimmy and Ghostbur found this very funny, and decided that it was a point in any future prank war that would start.

...and start it did.

In just a month back in his home, Jimmy had decided to initiate a proper prank war, telling Ghostbur before he told Scott of course, they had gotten a lot of ideas back when it was just the two of them. … So of course they had to be a team against Scott. Everyone found it funny, and everyone found it especially funny when Scott managed to win despite being outnumbered by 50% or something.

Of course, like in all things, it was not perfect, (Every relationship, whether it be friendly or something more, argues from time to time.) but it was pretty darn close. Ghostbur had come up with the idea that when someone wanted to apologize, they would go and get the pufferfish of peace and bring it to whoever they had been arguing with. (It was working shockingly well so far, and made a use for an item that would have otherwise brought bad memories.)

Once, Ghostbur fell into the lake, but he was so quickly saved that he promised them it didn’t hurt at all. Of course they still made sure he stayed far away from the water for a long while after that. (Not because they didn’t trust him, but because they were worried for him.) After they became more relaxed on it however, Ghostbur told them, through laughter’s tears, that he had really quite liked the rule because, “Sometimes the side of things are slippery,”

And that was how they were brought to this moment, two months into being out of that awful void, sitting next to each other and watching the sunset, pure blue flower crowns rested upon their heads (Ghostbur made them.) and a pretty roof built over them… (Scott made it.) It was them that Jimmy realized, he was glad to be on the edge of the universe with these two.

#fanfic #my writing #long post if you click keep reading #i mean it #ghostbur #tw: suffocation #tw: shipping #but it's between two canonically married characters #tw: death #smajor #solidarirtygaming #3rd life smp #dsmp #mcyt #actual post #my art #drowned!jimmy

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fatbottombucky · 4 years

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It’s A Bro-Job!*Chris Evans x Reader*

Summary: Yourself and Chris crash at his place after his big 39th Birthday bash, you’re on the sofa when he confesses to something. You decide to help your “bro” out.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Male!Reader

Rating: [+18] Explicit

Warnings: MxM smut, Male oral receiving, anal. Creampie King! No plot, it’s all porn. I literally don’t know where this came from, I had a whole other idea but this... just happened

Word Count: Over 2K

Authors Note: I had a conversation with my friend Dan, how he got with his now boyfriend was because he gave him what he calls a “bro-job”. Don’t ask lol Again, my beta, Honey, REALLY helped a girl out with the smut @peachesnplum - Ro

Tagging: I was the anon lol @honeychicanawrites @rhyrhy462 @softboi-vibes

You both stumbled through the door, the lights were all off which made it impossible to see or walk without tripping up. You could hear Chris fumbling for the lightswitch, cursing under his breath when he slaps the wall haphazardly a few times. The lights flicker on and you blink at the brightness, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the sudden change of lighting.

“Make yourself comfortable,” his words are slurred, but he’s not drunk just on the better side of tipsy.

You both have that buzz. Your bodies are vibrating from the alcohol, plus the music from the venue you were at. The taste of the confetti cake in your mouths and sweat clings to your bodies; dancing, being pressed to so many people at the party.

Chris always throws the best birthday bashes, that’s just facts.

His 39th wasn’t an exception either, somehow, this was more wild. So, many people turned up. Women all wanting a dance with Chris, which he humbly accepted with a wicked grin thrown at you- he’s shameless. You’d never hear him brag about the advances, but he wouldn’t hide the absolute prideful smirk he gets when he is flirted with.

It’s what makes the ending of this birthday so… different. Normally, you’d be his wingman. Granted you’ve never been with a woman before, you’re gay, but you somehow have this charming effect on everyone you meet and it helps ease Evans anxiety knowing if things get awkward you can steer him back on track.

You originally met his brother, Scott, through Grindr. You met up, had a connection but more so as friends and you haven’t looked back. Five years of being their friend and pining after Chris.

Tonight, however, Chris left the party with you. He danced and flirted with a few girls, pretty and stunning girls. But he claimed he didn’t find the person to give him that 39th sex experience.

Whatever that means.

However, the conversation happening now is something completely different. “Well, how would you know?” You asked with a laugh. “Guys suck dicks better, it’s facts. We know what we like, I’m sure girls are great. Heck, I bet they’re marvellous. Props to women for sucking dick, but guys are just naturals to it.”

Chris looks at you with disbelief and you look back at him, willing him to challenge you on this argument. “All I said was that, I think, I wouldn’t be good at it.” He reminds you.

Huh, why were you saying that?

“I said what I said,” you defend yourself and Chris laughs. “Anyway, why isn’t there a girl giving you a birthday blow-job?” He chokes on the beer he has, coughing as he tries to take a sip when you ask that question. “Stop acting so innocent, Evans. We all know this is your favourite time of year, every girl is suddenly into anal for your birthday.”

It’s a couple minutes before he has settled, giving you a playful glare. “I don’t know, I wasn’t feeling it from any of the girls at the party. Honestly, I didn’t get any last year either.”

“Damn,” you mutter with raised eyebrows and Chris shakes his head. “Two years in a row? Chris, there’s a plethora of people willing to do anything, you know that, right?” He nods with a simple shrug.

“I can’t remember the last time I had my dick sucked,” He admits with a frown, a thoughtful sip of his beer. “Probably, sometime before Endgame began shooting.”

That’s a...while. Longer than you would’ve expected. Chris is a very attractive guy, you half expect him to have someone on the side. Maybe, not a full time thing but someone he can call up for a bit fun. Yet, almost half a year since he’d done anything.

That needed to be changed. Pronto.

“Unconventional offer,” You begin, “but this wouldn’t be my first time giving a bro-job.”

“A what now?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m your bro, right? I’ll suck your dick, no questions asked. Don’t make it weird, it’s just a bro doing a favour.”

The explanation should make him laugh, you hoped anyway. Instead he’s silent, watching you and for a moment you think, maybe, just maybe, you might have offended him. Of course, you’re best friends and this could potentially make things awkward.

“Okay,” he shrugged nonchalantly and that throws you off now. “Well, you offered.”

Instead of questioning his willingness you get off of the sofa, settling between his legs but avoiding looking into his eyes, for now. You work on unbuttoning his pants, pulling the zipper down and he helps by lifting his hips as you pull his jeans and briefs down.

His cock is only half-hard, heavy and dribbling a small amount of pre-cum from the tip. It’s long and girthy, exactly what you expected but a little bigger than you’ve ever taken before. You spit in your palm and wrap the hand around him already slowly working him. He gets harder in your hand as you lick the pre-cum away, it’s a slow process till he’s extremely hard in your grasp.

That’s when you really begin.

Once he’s rockhard, you take the tip into your mouth lightly suckling the head. Pulling out the salty pre-cum from the tip, flattening your tongue against the underside of his dick before taking more of him into your wet, hot mouth. A loud groan comes from him, you finally look up and see his head is thrown back. One of his hands holds the back of your head, keeping your mouth on his cock.

You start to work your mouth down his length, breathing evenly through your nose as you nudge him down your throat. Your gag reflex coming in strong as you have his entire length settled in your mouth, your nose brushing against the trimmed pubic hair he has.

“Fuck!” he chokes and looks down at you, “swallowed my cock whole, filthy slut.”

You swallow around his length, throat tightening around his length and he releases a groan. Your jaw aches from having it stretched so wide, so full too. You start to bob your head, practically choking yourself on his cock as you fuck your throat.

Your own jeans becoming tight around the crotch area, your own cock aching for attention. This isn’t about you, it’s about Chris and you doing him a favour, so you forget about the hardness in your pants and double your efforts.

Saliva and cum dribbles from the corners of your mouth, slurping and choking sounds coming from your slicked up mouth. Everything about this is dirty and sinful. You’re sucking your friends dick, nothing about this is sweet or innocent. And Chris is enjoying it.

Hands on your head, his hips lifting to meet your mouth to fuck it generously. He’s panting above you, chest heaving and eyes darkened but not leaving your face. It’s like he’s a different person, not that you minded. If anything this side of Chris is, somehow, in some way hotter to you.

“Oh, god,” he groans out loudly, eyes rolling into the back of his head, “can I fuck you? Let me fuck you.” He stutters out when you grip his balls.

You pull off his cock with a slurp and a pop, looking up at him for a moment. A whimper escapes his throat when you’re not around him anymore, a thick string of saliva connects you to his dick and more is dribbling down your chin.

“You sure?” You asked rubbing at the bulge in your jeans, the thought of getting fucked by him just making you want to explode.

“Fuck yes.”

That’s all you need, you’re standing up on shaky legs with achy knees. You button your pants and pull them down, trying to pull your shirt off. It’s a flurry of clothes being removed from the both of you, you look at Chris and allow your eyes to roam over his naked torso.

But he seems to have other plans, grabbing and pulling you back to the sofa. Your hands clutch the armrest ahead of you, knees spread and ass in the air as Chris has one knee on the sofa and the other leg on the floor.

He spreads your asscheeks apart, spitting on your quivering hole and you groan at the feeling of it dripping down before it can go anywhere he’s swirling the spit around your tight ring. Fingertips dipping inside of you, you shakily sigh when a finger slips in and he starts to fuck you with it. Adding another finger, your thighs are shaking already just from having his thick digits inside of you.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, but fuck I just wanna fuck you already.” he admits and your eyes roll into the back of your head when a third finger is scissored inside of you.

He fingers your ass for a few minutes, spitting to add more lubrication before he eventually pulls his messy fingers from you. Pumping his cock with spit slicked fingers and lining himself up, you feel the fat tip prod your opening.

Even with the slight prep it’s still on the side of pain when he pops the head in, your hole stretching around him and he sinks in slowly. Hands grip your hips in a bruising embrace, he allows you to adjust once he’s fully settled inside. Your cock is leaking pre-cum and smearing onto his sofa, but neither of you seem to care about it.

Chris pulls back a couple of inches before slamming back in, you groan and squeeze your eyes shut. His hand slinks up your back and gripping the back of your neck in a tight grip, you know you’re in for the ride of your life. He starts pounding into you, showing little mercy on you. He fucks you with long, hard strokes. The tip of his more than impressive length hitting your prostate everytime.

You choke on air, your lungs barley filled because he’s fucking the life out of you. His other moves and wraps around your cock, loosely wrapping around it, so that every jolt of his hips has your cock fucking into his hand.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum.” You admit and bite your lip, feeling your balls tighten and your cock starting to twitch. Chris has the audacity to chuckle darkly at you, every thrust in he grinds his hips so that his cock head brushes against your prostate.

“Go on then,” he leans his body down, torso against your back and mouth beside your ear. “Cum in my hand because you can’t hold it, can’t even wait for me, can you? So desperate.”

You groan and start meeting his thrusts, pushing back against him- almost like you were chasing his dick every time it started to withdraw. It’s a few more thrusts and you’re cumming with a shout, spilling over his hand and sofa, it’s hot and sticky but you don’t care. Chris continues to fuck you, wrapping his hand tighter around your cock as you cum. He squeezes and milks your dick of it’s release, you whimper as he continues to stroke your cock even after everything had spilled.

“Cum inside of me, please.” You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes and he bites his bottom lip harshly.

You can tell his close by the way his eyes glaze over, a stuttered groan escaping him when he continues to pound into your overused hole. He pulls up off of you, hands gripping your asscheeks and spreading them so he can watch exactly where his cock slips in and out of you.

“You want it all inside of you, huh?” He asked with a cock smirk and you nod, unable to form words. “Gonna fill your ass up.” He throws his head back and moans loudly.

You feel the hot load shoot inside of you, he doesn’t stop fucking you as he cums. Short thrusts and deep thrusts as he continues to cum inside, it feels never ending as load after load is fucked into you. Some of it dribbling around his cock and down your quivering thighs, it’s a few short minutes before he stops and pants for air.

You hiss when you feel Chris slip his cock from you asshole, his eyes watch your sloppy hole clench around nothing and is puffy from being overworked. He sits back against the sofa, dick now soft but wet and between his legs. He looks over to see you belly down on the sofa, one leg hanging off and on the floor.

His dick twitches when he sees his cum spilling out of your ass, it’s going to stain his sofa but he doesn’t care right now. You look completely fucked out, but he can feel himself getting up for round two. Briefly wondering if you’d be up for another load in you.

“How many of those bro favours do you give out?” He asked and he heard you chuckle, your shoulder shaking and pushing yourself up.

“You’re the birthday boy, however many you want.”

(As a lesbian woman, I need to say, I’ve never had straight sex... I’ve watched gay porn, cause me and my friends LOVE to laugh at porn plots sometimes, so be nice to me... I’m not very adapt with sex stuff (unless its fxf) love you all- Rosalie)

#chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans x male reader #chris evans x male!reader #chris evans one shot #chris evans imagine #xmale reader #x male read #xmale

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that-gt-and-vore-stuffs · 3 years

Text

Two Snakes and a Rat

Alrighty! Y’all asked so here’s my QuickFang story!

For those who don’t know the QuickFang AU is an au in which Vore exists. Davey is a mob boss known as QuickFang who is feared by all of Manhattan. This takes place some time into the plot and doesn’t touch on past plot points but they’re there I swear! I can expand if y’all want later. Anyway, here we go!!

Also this is shippy and Jack decides to be....Jack so uh yeah. Have fun!

Vore under the cut :3

——————

“Those fucking idiots.” The words were growled, slowly gaining volume and morphing into a yell as the door slammed against the wall. This was the last straw for him. “First the stunt pulled at the most recent brawl, then those imbeciles getting arrested and almost giving away our location, and then them letting a spy in! Why I ought to put a bullet through their heads the moment they’re shoved through that door.”

“S-sir!” A female voice called, the young woman in question running after the man as he entered the room. At least she wasn’t tripping over a skirt in the suit she had been gifted after having accepted her job as one of the man’s own spies.

“That’s- nevermind.” The man growled, anger barely showing for the first time in hours as he walked to the back of the room. One of the cabinets opened, revealing a multitude of dishes, silverware, and glasses. He grabbed the nearest wine glass and sighed. This. All of this. It was all at risk. All because of those bafoons.

“Ah! Right! Sorry, Boss-Sir.” The young lady corrected as a few more goons as well as a second man with a silver broach that separated him from the rest walked in. She made her way to the side. Standing against the wooden wall, a strand of her bronze hair that pulled itself out of the tight bun it was styled in blowing softly in the breezes made my the movement of the others in the room. Four goons, varying in height and muscle, stood at her sides in the same position as she. Hands together behind their back, standing up straight, with the straightest expression they could manage.

“I’d watch Yer words there, pretty lady.” The man with the silver broach hummed as he closed the door. “The boss doesn’t have the clearest mind while like dis. I’d say keep yer mouth shut.”

“Oh give me a break, Wits,” her boss, the man with the golden broach, growled as he filled his glass with the bitter red liquid from the wine keg he kept on the table behind his desk.

“I’s just sayin’, Mr. QuickFang!” The silver broached man said, hands up in a nonchalant surrender as he paced closer to the desk. “Yer mind, see- it does this thing when You’s is mad. It’s like you’s a bull and all you see is-

The brunette- legal name Marcell, mob name Scarlet- squeaked as her boss whipped around, pointing a blade directly at the throat of his right hand man. Dear god-

“Watch. Your. Mouth. Wits.” QuickFang growled, grip on the blade tightening to the point where his hand began to shake.

“Hey, is that not how I got my name? What about you, Mouth~?” Wits cooed in return, a cocky smile sitting on his face with eyes to match behind his mask.

“I- you fucking ass.” QuickFang grumbled, arm jerking to the side and the knife going flying. A dull thud sounds as the blade sticks itself right in the wall mere centimeters above Marcell’s head, drawing another squeak from her as she stares up at the knife. Oh sweet Jesus.

“I thought you loved that part of me though, baby~” Wits cooed, cupping QuickFang’s cheek in his hand for a second. The mob boss’s eye twitched, a growl forming in his throat.

“I do. You fucking know I do. Right now though I want to tear your vocal chords out with nothing more than a dull, rusty old spoon,” spat the man, slamming a hand on his desk as he took a sip from his wine glass. “Damnit. Where are they?! They were supposed to be here-“ he pulled up his sleeve, checking his watch, “-two minutes ago!”

Just as his sentence finished the door clicked open and in were shoved three men, each with their hands tied behind their backs and their mouths filled with fabric gags. Wits moved around the desk, leaning against the bookcase behind his boss now. His boss in question setting his wine glass down in favor of pulling yet another blade out of his pocket.

“Well well well. Look what we’ve got here~” he cooed, a sick smile spreading to his face. “Two traitors and a pathetic excuse of a spy.” He slammed the blade down into his desk, the metal cutting into the wood enough to make it stick upright.

The three on their knees stared up with wide eyes as the man known as QuickFang circled around his desk to stand over them, glimmering blade in hand. This- oh no. No no no. This is bad.

“Now, give me one damn reason why I shouldn’t gut you three like fish and roast you over an open flame for the next dinner party I host.”

The three on the ground shivered, eyes shaking as they stared up. They couldn’t speak. Oh god they couldn’t speak. They couldn’t give him a reason. He was gonna-

The man in the middle froze, feeling the cold tip of the metal blade press into the nape of his neck. Not enough to cut, but enough to remind him it was there. No. No. Nonono.

“You’re lucky I care about my carpet and floor. Blood is awfully hard to clean, you know,” QuickFang growled, removing the blade favoring to twirl it in his hands as he paced around them yet again. “Though I must do something. Letting you three go would be a death sentence to me and my group here and that’s the last thing I want. One of us has to go though to keep our little secret safe.”

There was a mumble of something under one of the three tied up’s breath. Something that sounded an awful lot like an insult. Something that relit the white hot rage in QuickFang’s core.

“Ah so you have a death wish!” He snapped, whipping around and pressing the blade into the man furthest to the left’s neck, Slicing a thin line. Not deep enough to kill, but enough to leave a little trail of blood dripping down. The crazed look in his eyes was something that would burn into those who saw it’s brains. “Those always make things more fun~! How do we start, hmm?”

Before he could do anything else, Wits rushed in behind his boss, arms wrapping around his waist and face burrowing into the crook of his neck. He breathed softly, feeling the tension in his lover melt away. Taking deep breaths, he cooed, “Good….good boy…..”

“Mmggh….baby….not here..” the taller groaned as he melted in the embrace, “...not now. You gotta- mmgh….wait….”

“Shhhh. I know. My mind is on something else though, darling~” the second in command cooed, gently placing a kiss to his boss/lover’s jawbone. He shot a glare to the five against the wall, a growl in his tone when he spoke. “Out. Now.”

And out they all went, Marcell closing the door behind her.

“What’s with the boss and Wits?” She asked, rushing up beside one of the older goons. Surely he knew.

“Those two have been inseparable since the day Wits joined. He stuck to the boss like glue and became his right hand man soon after.” The goon explained, voice rough. “He was captured once. Taken hostage and put in danger at one of the fights in the square. I’ve never seen the boss so mad. The only time he calmed down was when that boy was back in his arms and spoke to him once more. In short, the boss would end the world for that boy. Don’t cross either.”

“Ah. I see…” Marcell hummed, walking off to the spy’s quarters. Surely there was something for her to do there.

QuickFang groaned softly, lidded eyes looking to his partner. “Jackie….what are you planning?”

“Shhh...you’ll ruin the surprise if ya keep askin’ questions, Dave.” Wits, more commonly known as Jack, cooed, letting go of the boy in his arms. “Now be a good boy and go sit in that throne o’ yer’s, kay? Let Wits handle this~”

Davey groaned, stumbling his way to his chair and falling limp into it. “You’re a man of mystery, Jack Kelly. I’ll never understand how you do it.”

“Do what?” Jack asked, poking another one of the three men on the floor. Well, two now- oh! Only one.

“Make me melt like that. I don’t- mmgh- get it.”

“Heheh oh. That. Well Dave,” Jack cooed, smiling as the third man seemingly disappeared as he tucked them between his arm and his chest. “Telling you would ruin the fun~! Now, from how your belly felt my little baby is hungry. Is that the case? Does my little darling want a nice squirmy meal to fill his tummy~?”

Davey’s eyes locked on the three men in Jack’s hold. Oh. Oh boy. A squirmy meal did sound very very nice. But...he wanted to tease a bit. Just a bit. He looked to Jack with pleading eyes, cocking his head just a little. “Please?”

“Hehehe awe. Look at that~” Jack cooed, setting the three on the desk. Next to them he set the knife, blade glimmering in the light. With a grin he stepped back, hands up again in surrender. “The floor is yours, baby~”

Slowly but surely that same evil grin pulled itself across Davey’s face. Oh yes~ He was quick to grab hold of the knife’s handle again, twirling it for a second before stabbing the blade down in front of the three tinies. His weak state was wiped from his mind, being replaced with the confident, sinister mob boss who had a grip on all of Manhattan known as QuickFang. “And once again the games begin~”

The three tinies on the table felt a shiver shoot up their spines as the knife came slamming down in front of them, narrowly missing one of their feet. Sweet Jesus. What was he getting at?!

A low evil laugh rang in the boy’s throat, the knife being pulled from the table to be placed under one of the tinies chins and tilting it up to face the evil, icy blue eyes of the boy.

“Now now. Why the long face~? I thought you three liked to play risky~” he cooed, twirling the knife in his hand. QuickFang’s eyes burned holes in the three on the table. Oh how stupid they had been to have pulled this stunt. “I’m not gonna….pull anything~”

At his own words, Davey promptly grabbed one of the tinies by their bound hands. He brought them to eye level, stomach growling as he stared them down. A sound that struck fear in the hearts of the other two.

“Now you must know that by now I’m positively starving and in desperate need of a good meal.” The calm tone in the boy’s voice was enough to rattle the three tinies to the core. How could one be so calm while talking about something so….so…..terrible?! A Yelp, muffled by the gag, sounded from the poor tiny who was being dangled by his arms as the warm, squishy muscle of the boy’s tongue dragged itself up him. It repeated. Again, and again, and again until-

*clack*

Those on the desk still froze as their friend was closed in behind the pearly white gates of Davey’s teeth. They watched with drowning horror as the caught spy was pushed around, sucked on, and even nibbled at by the man. It was torture to see. Seemingly impossible to bear. Until things got worse-

Ulp~

Way. Worse.

They’re forced to watch as the spy slips further and further down the young man’s gullet, squeezing and slipping past the wet, soft, squishing muscles. To watch as the squirmy lump that was the man side down down down until it was out of sight. Oh but the gurgle from the boss’s stomach let them know where he was.

“Ahh~! Much better. One right where he belongs~” QuickFang hummed with a sigh. Oh to have something squirming fill his belly. The taste of vanilla sat on his tongue as he licked over his lips, a glob of thick warm drool dripping onto his desk. His gaze snapped to the two on the table once more, his grin turning sinister yet again. “And how lucky I have two more~”

The two goons on the table tried to wiggle away in hopes of escape. In hopes of living another day because they knew the moment they entered their boss’s gut they weren’t leaving. Ever. This was terrifying as is, even more so when they were seconds too late and were grabbed up in a tight fist back to back.

“Ah Ah Ah! Now where do you think you’re going~?” The man with the golden broach cooed, grinning at the two like some crazed lunatic. His teeth parted to reveal a soaking pink, plush tongue and shimmering fangs along with the dark, unforgiving tunnel of his throat. As if things couldn’t get worse, the slimy muscle of his tongue pulled itself up their tiny bodies as they squirmed in the leather glove’s grip.

“Mmmm….oh my. Tell me, why do people lacking the most brains taste the best~?” His signature grin spread on his lips, a thick layer of saliva coating his teeth as he licked them over. A low rumbling growl sounded from his gut, the tiny inside squeaking. “Oh who am I kidding. Look at me. Talking to my meal. Heheh. Oh I must be losing it. Well, down the hatch before I get worse!”

The jaw of the predator opened up like a gate, throat twitching at the end of their path. Their end. The thought made them shiver as they landed roughly on the slick surface of Davey’s tongue. Their shoulders dug into the taste buds as they skidded back. Back further and further until-

Glp-

Glk-

Glrk~

Down they go.

“Ahhh~ Oh...oh that’s good~” Davey sighed, a pleased tone to all he said as he fell back into his chair. Now that was good. His hand came to rest over his stomach as the two remaining snacks slipped in, causing a small bump to form under his shirts. A light blush dusted his face, a shudder coursing through every cell of his existence as the small bodies continued to writhe about in the dark, deathly confines of his gut.

“Awww heheh. Good job, baby~” Jack cooed, walking up behind the boss in the chair. He grinned, gently cupping the boy’s face to turn him to face him. “Awe. Dat’s the face of a full, happy lil Pred, now ain’t it~?” He slowly drew his hand back, drinking in the sight of the mob boss following it as if begging for more contact. A warm chuckle bubbled from his throat as he reached for the glass, holding the rim to Davey’s lips. He hummed small instructions to drink, giving praise once the action is done. With a smirk on his face he turned to leave, a hand grabbing his and stopping his movement.

“Oh? What’s that, Dave?” Jack asked, cocking his head. The most he got in response was a groan. “Dave. Words. Or you don’t get what you want~!”

“Mmmghhh…..Cuddles…..now….” the boy groaned, pulling at Jack’s hand weakly. A smile spread onto his face as Jack came to sit in his lap. He wrapped his arms around the boy, nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Heh someone’s snuggly~” The boy’s voice was smooth, calming to the boy who’s lap he sat in. A gentle kiss found it’s way between their lips and they relaxed in the room. Before long soft snoring sounded from the boy with the golden broach, pulling a small laugh from his right hand man. “Sleep well, Dave. Yer belly’s got a job to do. I’ll run this joint for ya while ya sleep. I’ll see ya when you wake up~”

#implied fatal vore #g/t vore #newsies vore #QuickFang au #I’m back for a bit bitches!!!#get ready for some writing once more!

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