#martin is right here he can touch him and care for him and love him but he looks so unhappy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mignonricciardo · 1 year

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self control | ls18

I love this man SO much and I just hope he's healing okay <3 massive congrats to Aston Martin for today (and lance's p6) this work is currently unedited as I literally typed it in one go and have gone straight to posting — I'm forcing myself to work thorough writer's block here

summary: lance is injured but has little self control. (1.5k words)

warnings: smut, p in v, protected penetration, broken bones, cursing, fluff

“I’m still mad at you,” I mutter, scrunching my hair with the hotel towel. “Even with P6, I’m mad at you.”

“Babe,” Lance whines, tipping his head back against the headboard. “I told you that I’m fine. I was cleared, and it went great.”

“You’re not fine,” I chide, motioning to each hand sitting on top of an ice pack. “Do not even get me started on the bruises and the swelling.”

“Not opening that can of worms again,” he pacifies me, grinning as I toss him a middle finger. A laugh falls past his lips, and even with the anger for not taking care of himself still coursing through my veins, I can’t help but feel relief as he relaxes into the mattress. His laughter is airy, filling the space, and my heart nearly bursts when his eyes crinkle around the edges.

“You do not want me to go caretaker mode on you again,” I respond, biting back my own laughter. “I won’t be nice just because you’re hurt.”

“How rude,” he continues, smile tugging at his lips to reveal white teeth. “P6 with broken bones and no congratulations.”

“No congratulations?” I glare at him, scoffing as I hang the towel back up in the restroom before returning to the king sized bed. “What could you possibly have in mind? I practically made out with you in the garage and then remembered your mom was right there.”

Lance bursts into a full-bellied laugh, and he clutches his sides at the mortifying memory from only a few hours ago. As his arms wrap around his stomach, he takes a sudden sharp breath before returning his hands to the ice packs on either side of him. I can see the swollen skin around his wrists with purple and blue bruises stretching across his wrists and onto his hands.

“See?” I start, standing on his side of the bed with my hands on my hips. “They’re bothering you, Lance, and I know you well enough to know you can’t control yourself, so I’m not letting anything happen for your own health.”

“Baby,” he whines, pouty bottom lip protruding ever so slightly. “You let me do more with the casts on.”

“They stopped you from moving too much,” I remind him, leaning closer toward him. “Now, you’re doing whatever until you’re reminded that it hurts.”

His eyes are soft as he looks up at me, bottom lip still protruding every so slightly, and dark hair falling messily around his eyebrows. It’s quiet in the hotel room, and I fall victim to his gaze as I remain still and my eyes trace his features. Damn him for not putting a shirt on after his shower. His torso is on display against the white pillows, tattoo on his ribs peeking out, and the duvet is bunched around his waist.

“You’re checking me out, babe,” he says with a quiet laugh.

My eyes never leave his abs flexing as he laughs, “Yep, I totally am. Doesn’t change anything.”

“Baby,” his voice suddenly shifts as my eyes land back on his. There’s a sense of need in his tone that wasn’t there just moments before, and I’m suddenly sucked right into his plans.

“Lance,” I warn half-heartedly.

“I need you,” he whispers. “You’re all I’ve been able to think about since climbing out of the car.”

One of my hands rests on his chest, feeling his warm skin beneath my palm, and his breath hitches as my fingers trace down the dip in his chest and across his stomach, tracing edges of muscle. My fingers dip beneath the duvet, running across the elastic band of his underwear and my palm ghosts over him. He’s hard beneath my touch, already straining against the fabric and biting his lip as he waits.

“See?” he whispers, groaning as my hand applies a bit more pressure against him. “Need you.”

“You promise you won’t do any of the work?” I ask, pulling back the duvet from around his hips. “I don’t want you taking your wrists off the ice, babe. I’m serious — you have to get better.”

“You’re asking me not to touch you?” he looks as if I’ve just asked him to run the length of the race earlier rather than drive it.

I nod my head, “Touch me, and I stop. This is for your own good, Lance. Someone has to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

I slot myself over top of his hips, inner thighs pressing to his outer thighs on either side, and lean my weight on to him to relieve some of the pressure between his legs. He tips his head back against the headboard, sighing as I move my hips in torturously slow circles.

“Fuck, you take such good care of me,” he groans, lifting his hands to reach for my hips before remembering his promise and placing them back down. “You’re amazing.”

“You weren’t lying when you said you needed me,” I comment, leaning toward his ear. “Is this what you were thinking about in the debriefs?”

He nods, “Nearly left early and blamed the injuries. I needed you so bad I was going crazy.”

My lips meet his jaw and work down his neck, leaving a mark on his collarbone as my hips continue their motions. It’s starting to drive him crazy — the slow movements and careful placements. His hands suddenly rest on my hips as he bucks his hips into mine, but I stop my movements when I feel his palms on my skin.

“You’re not serious,” he grunts. “You’re going to stop?”

“I have more self control than you,” I whisper, lips brushing against his ear as he groans again.

He moves his hands back to his sides, “Then, let’s call this an exercise in self control, and I’ve failed. Baby, please.”

He’s throbbing against me now, and I wait another moment until I glance at either of his hands.

“You’re going to let me do everything?” I ask.

He nods wildly, “I’ll even keep my hands off you since you’re so damn stubborn.”

I grin, “Look who’s listening now.”

I reach for the nightstand, plucking a tin foil out as I shift on to Lance’s thighs. He groans as my fingers tug at his boxers’ waistband, and my fingers gently trace over the head and protruding vein.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he gasps, hips stuttering into the palm of my hand.

“Just appreciating it,” I smile, finally tearing open the condom and rolling it on to him.

“Fuck, you take such good care of me,” he rasps as I raise my hips above his.

The head presses against me for a moment, and we both gasp as I sink all the way on to him. My hands are clutching his shoulders as he fills me, and my stomach is already clenching as he reaches a spot that sends white stars across my vision. I stay still for a moment, letting each of us catch our wits before continuing.

“Lance, I-”

“I know, baby,” he shushes my moan, eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, I know.”

“God, I love you,” I groan, rising on my knees before sinking back down in rhythm.

“Can I please touch you?” he gasps. “Just want to feel you, baby.”

“Fuck it,” I answer with a moan, feeling a pit in my stomach beginning to form. “Can’t stop now.”

He laughs quietly, placing cold hands on my hips. I gasp sharply as his cold skin contrasts with my hot flesh, but his hands on my hips spur my movements faster.

“Baby, fuck, you’re too good to me,” Lance chokes out, and one of my hands rests against his flexing abs.

“Want you to cum first,” I gasp, hips moving relentlessly against one another. “Lance, please I-”

“I know, baby. You’re close. I can feel it,” his hands splay against the small of my back to pull me closer toward him. “I’m nearly there. You’re so, so good.”

His praise spurs on my hips, and he releases a string of curse words as his hips buck against mine. Lance squeezes his eyes shut as he cums, and I fall over the edge right after him. He’s groaning as I clench around him, already sensitive in a post-orgasmic haze. I lean forward, my weight propped up by Lance against the headboard, as we each catch our breath. Eventually, I toss the remnants of our moment into the trash before curling into his side. His arm hands limply around me as his wrist rests gently on my back.

“Are you happy with your congratulations?” I ask quietly, tracing circles across his torso.

He chuckles quietly, “Incredibly. Although, I can’t wait to be the one in charge again.”

“Looking forward to bending me over again?” I grin.

He laughs wildly at my comment, “You’re so bad.”

“You love me for it,” I smile, looking up at him.

He nods his head, leaning down to leave a gentle kiss on the crown of my head, “Never forget it."

“You totally failed the self control exercise, by the way.”

He laughs quietly, leaning into me, “We’ll have to try again tomorrow. They say practice makes perfect.”

#lance stroll #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll smut #lance stroll fluff #formula one imagine #formula one smut #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smut

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selfinsertmadness · 2 months

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i have a really cool prompt

hope you like my idea,

could you perhaps write a story about the current logan situation with loganxy/n ??

i love your blog soooo muchhhh

Logie and the Australian car incident

pairing: AstonMartin!y/n x Logan Sargeant (can be read platonically or romantically)

author's note: I haven't written any fanfic stuff in literal years (middle school me is quacking) but I tried my best with that one. Looking forward to any suggestions or critiques you may have :) (insert obligatory English is not my native language here) (please send promts!!!!)

The day starts off as any other day on a busy race weekend would and you are busy running around the Aston Martin garage making sure everything is in order before you return to your place at the back of the garage. You let your gaze sweep over the garage one last time before getting out your work phone and texting your boss, Lawrence, that everything is in order. The cars seem good, the mechanics had no complaints and Lance and Fernando were reasonably happy with everything. A satisfied smile washes over your face, your job was busy but reasonably easy, as the team caretaker your sole mission was to make sure the team was happy, the drivers taken care of, and the PR supervisors were not losing their minds running after their drivers while also texting Lawrence even the most minute details about his son and the other driver.

It seems quite redundant to you, but Lawrence Stroll pays well and who are you to turn down a job as a glorified team nanny.

You take a seat at the back and watch the first practice session absentmindedly, letting your gaze wander down to your phone occasionally, and scrolling through Twitter, scoffing at all the hate towards the current grid. It never ceases to amaze you how people can be so hateful, but then again, some people are just unhappy about their own lives. Looking up at the screen you watch a Williams car hit the wall on the right before sliding across the track and grinding its way to a stop on the left barrier. You gasp as you jump up, the rest of the garage wincing in sympathy as the car finally stops. You quickly turn to a mechanic nearby. “Who was that?”, you ask a little panicked as you watch the red flag fly and a driver in a Williams race suit climb out of the cockpit. “Albon, I think”, the mechanic replies helpfully as you try and suppress a relieved sigh. You still feel sorry for Alex but simultaneously thanking your lucky stars that Logan was not the one in an accident this time.

When Logan first got signed by Williams you both were ecstatic, you had met years ago when your parents had taken you on a vacation to Florida where you met Logan and you’ve kept in touch ever since. You had already been working for Aston Martin when Logan started in F1 and the fact that you could spend a lot more time together now served as further motivation to both of you to give it your best. You quickly shoot him a text, knowing he won’t be responding until later, before sending your boss a quick update and making sure the crash had not affected your team.

You honestly had forgotten you texted Logan in the first place as you watch the cars head out for the second practice session, Alex staying back in the pits, watching his teammate drive. You smile as you send Logan some memes you had found on twitter, knowing he would have a laugh once he got back to his room after the strenuous practice sessions of the day. Aston Martin, for once, had no major issues you had attend to and you could lean back and relax, as much as one in a Formula 1 garage can relax, in your seat while harassing the Aston Martin Instagram Admin with Memes you think they should be posting asap.

As the second practice session ends you help the team pack up and prepare for the next day as the drivers attend to their media duties and you stretch in relief as the first day of the Australian Grand Prix comes to an end. After having everything sorted you get out your work phone and sign off for the day before taking out your personal phone and responding to some texts before checking your chat with Logan, seeing that he had read your messages but not responded. ‘You ok?’, you send him before shrugging off any worry you might have. Surely, he was just busy, after all, he was the only Williams driver that would be starting on Sunday. You really wouldn’t want to be in his shoes, the weight of the entire team and all the fans’ expectations resting on your shoulders. You might have a lot of responsibility but at least you were free of the expectations fans place on the drivers, mechanics and team principals.

You quickly slip into the shower of your private hotel room, a perk you were eternally grateful for, and put on some pajamas before order room service. You had earned it after all and looking after your figure was thankfully not a concern you had. ‘Ignoring your bestie? That’s not how I know you Loggie!’ you text Logan as you open the door for the food you had ordered and sit down before digging into the pepperoni pizza you had been craving for a week.

You startle as you hear a knock from your hotel room door. You shoot a quick glance at your phone, 11pm. You quietly approach the door and look through the peephole cautiously. Who would disturb you that late on a race weekend? Looking through the hole you see Logan at the door, his face unusually pale and his expression unnervingly neutral. Quickly you reach for the doorhandle, pulling the door open. “Logie? What got you a-knocking that late?”, you ask jokingly but the lighthearted smile on your face quickly fades as he stands on the swell of your door like a man lost, his eyes suspiciously watery. “Oh dear”, you mumble as you quickly pull him into your room and heard him towards your bed, letting him sit down before standing before him and looking at him with a stern expression. “What’s wrong?”, you ask, concern written all over your face.

He sighs, falling back onto the bed. “They’re taking my car.”, his voice sounds wobbly as he explains. “Who is taking your car?”, you ask, your voice confused.

“James. He said Alex has a higher chance of scoring and I get it, but I tried so hard, you know? They said they trusted me, and I was ready to proof how much I have improved and now I can’t drive at all. I didn’t crash the car! It’s not my fault! I didn’t do anything…”, he rambles, his voice flowing between sadness, anger and betrayal before ending in defeat. You look at him, he still has his upper body lying on your bed, his feet dangling off the side as he continues explaining what had happened. Quietly you sit down next to him on the bed and gently stroke through his hair as you let him talk out his frustrations. “y/n? What do I do now?”, Logan asks as he looks up at you, his eyes still wet but trying his hardest to not shed a tear.

“I will put the fear of God into that good-for-nothing son of a bitch.”, you explain very matter of factly. “I’m gonna walk down to the Williams hospitality and I’m gonna scream at your team principal!”, you declare with a huff as you get off of your bed and towards where you kicked off your shoes when you came back from the paddock earlier that night.

“Y/N, do NOT do that.”, Logan warns as he gets up and grabs your hand. “That is just going to make it worse.” “Okay but it’s also gonna make me feel a lot better ‘cause who does he think he is? Taking your car and giving it away. I’m gonna make him regret this entire week” you say angrily as you look up at him with determination and the wrath of someone who’s best friend was just wronged in your eyes.

“Please don’t”, Logan asks with sad eyes, gripping your hand even tighter. “Please just stay with me tonight, I feel sick. I just want to cry.”, he admits to you as you feel your resolve break. “But- “, you trail off as you watch him stand before you, his hand still tightly gripping yours. You sigh in defeat before squeezing his hand. “Right but only ‘cause you asked me to, if it was up to me…”, you stop, leaving the threat hang in the air of your hotel room as you head towards the small desk. “Pizza”, you declare as you shove the leftovers of your pizza into Logans hands. “My TV has Netflix, what do you want to watch?”, you ask as you throw yourself into the hotel room bed and turn on the flatscreen TV hanging opposite it.

Logan lets out a surprised laugh and sits down next to you, the pizza carton still tightly in his hands as he gets out a slice and lets you choose whatever show you find on the homepage. The evening continues in relative silence as Logan finishes the pizza and you sit in the bed, leaning onto each other. “I’m still sending him negative vibes, like spiritually”, you grumble as he giggles before slipping off to sleep for the night.

#logan sargeant #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #x reader #logan sargeant x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #first fic in a long time #ls2 x reader #ls2

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fairyyobrien · 23 days

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Avoided Love

Heya this will be my first Stiles imagine. Hopefully it doesn’t suck lol. If y’all like it please reblog it or give me a follow or not. If anyone wants to request an idea please feel more than welcome to! Anywaysss…

(This takes place in Season 3b. Void Stiles x reader) *no major warnings just be prepared to be turned on by badass stiles* (make out sesh)

You wake up to a loud thump next to your bed. You rub your eyes and quickly sit up. Turning your head you notice a familiar face.. “stiles” you whisper.

“Hello love” he leans down and caresses your cheek in his hand. “What the hell are you doing here.. it’s 3:30” you look up at the time on your clock. You glance back at him examining his features.. he looks off, dark bags circle under his eyes.. his skin is extra pale and his amber eyes are a darker shade than usual even under the fluorescent lamp on your nightstand.

“You really are a beautiful little thing” he says moving a strand of your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. Your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink. You had always had feelings for Stiles since you’ve known him, which had been since you two were in the 6th grade. You never acted on it because he seemed to always been drawn to Lydia Martin.. what you didn’t know was that he was drawn to you more.

“W-what.. are you feeling okay Stiles?” you ask trying to ignore the words that just rolled off his tongue. You felt like you were dreaming, on cloud 9.

“I feel… insatiable” he whispered leaning even closer now, you swore you felt a chill run down your spine. “I want to kiss you” he whispered again pulling you out of your thoughts. “Let me kiss you love..” he cups your face with both hands looking deep into your eyes. “O-okay” you whisper leaning in. He smirks. His lips are soft but the kiss feels a bit rough. He moves past your lips to your cheek, then to your jaw, then down to your neck. At this point his kisses have gotten rougher. You moan in response and he smirks against your skin once again. Your hands run through his hair while he kisses down to your chest.

You both stop dead in your tracks when you get a phone call. You quickly pick up the phone “sorry it’s just Scott..” you whisper. You pick it up slightly worried and confused. You’re now standing up at the end of your bed. “Hey. Is everything okay..?” you whisper slightly panicking just like you do everytime one of the pack members called you at this hour.

“Y/N are you alone right now”

“please tell me you’re alone” he panics. “U-um no stiles is here..” you look up at him. He’s staring right back at you smirking for the third time.

“Okay Y/N you need to get away from him. That’s not Stiles! He’s possessed by an evil spirit. I will explain everything once I get there. Just whatever you do Y/N be careful and don’t let him trick you. I’ll be there as soon as I can” He quickly hangs up and you turn around, the familiar face gone out of sight.

You sit at the edge of your bed confused and frightened. You shake and touch your lips, they feel dry and ice cold. You just made out with stiles for the first time.. except it wasn’t really stiles.

Sorry if this was short but I’m honestly proud of it! Let me know if y’all want me to make a second part I kinda feel like it needs one.

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinski imagine #void stiles #stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf imagine #void stiles imagine #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brian imagine #dylan o'brian x reader

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year

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Prompt #2 smut with chad Meeks-Martin x reader

‘’Does that feel good?’’

Warnings: smut, handjob

my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time

—

After nine days in an uncomfortable hospital bed and eating tasteless meals, Chad was discharged from the hospital. Recovery was going well for him. The stabbing wounds were healing slowly but nicely, according to the doctors. His leg, however, was more damaged. Amber’s knife had touched a nerve in his thigh and it will possibly leave him with a slight limp.

‘’This is much better than the hospital,’’ Chad declared, his head on your shoulder while a movie played on his small TV. ‘’I like having you as my personal nurse.’’

You had offered to stay with Chad and play nurse while his parents were at work during the day. Mindy had immaturely pointed out how dirty it sounded, but you just wanted to help and take care of the person you loved after almost losing him.

‘’You didn’t like Dr. Monique?’’ You held your laugh, already knowing his answer.

‘’She kept insisting to change my bandages and tried to give me a sponge bath. A sponge bath, babe!’’

‘’Wouldn’t it have been a safer idea? You had me help you in the shower and almost fell on me. I’m half your height!’’

‘’I already apologized for that — a thousand times. My foot slipped, okay?’’ Chad said, getting defensive.

You chuckled. ‘’Okay.’’

Chad opened his mouth, but you captured his lips, finally able to kiss without having to worry about making the heart monitor go crazy.

Although he had only spent over a week at the hospital and you saw him every single day, it felt like you hadn’t seen him in months and this was your reunion. In a way, it was. The hospital wasn’t the best place for privacy. There’s doctors and nurses coming in and out at all times, family and friends visiting, and that annoying heart monitor.

The kiss was a mix of relief and desperation, your hands clinging to Chad’s bicep and shirt. His tongue slipped between your lips, cupping your face to deepen the kiss. He’s been wanting to do this for so long — and so did you. Being home made more room for possibilities, but with his parents and sister checking in on him all the time, you and Chad didn’t have a lot of alone moments.

The hand grabbing his shirt slid down his chest and stomach, careful to not apply any pressure over his healing wounds, and slipped underneath his sports shorts.

‘’What are you doing?’’ Chad sad against your lips, speaking low.

You continued your journey down, and cupped his flaccid length over his boxers. ‘’Taking care of my boyfriend’s sexual urges. What does it looks like?’’

He took a sharp breath, trying so hard not to buck his hips into your hand. ‘’I’m a big fan of that idea, but I don’t want to risk popping a stitch— aah.’’ Chad threw his head back against his pillows, his words forgotten as you continued your ministrations, feeling him grow stiff swiftly from all the pent up sexual needs.

Laying on a hospital bed trying to recover from countless stab wounds made it impossible for any kind of sexual interaction. Not even by his left hand. His bed was unfortunately situated right where anyone would have a full shot of his private parts if walking by his room and the shower was too hazardous. It was also very illegal to jerk off or do anything sexual in a hospital. This is not Grey’s Anatomy or some other hospital drama.

You smirked to yourself. ‘’Who said you were going to do any of the work?’’

With some gentle shuffling and maneuvering, you managed to get Chad’s cock out. He groaned as you wrapped your hand around his touch starved cock, so sensitive and responding.

''So needy for my touch, uh?’’ you teased, rubbing your thumb over his tip and spread the precum leaking out down his shaft. ‘’Does that feel good?''

A moan spilled from Chad’s lips in response, not caring how needy and desperate he sounded. ‘’You have no idea.’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz

#chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin smut #chad meeks martin imagine #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks x reader #scream 6 imagines #scream 6

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eldritch-spouse · 14 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/745594646225354752/if-i-ran-a-business-in-sloth-id-make-a-type-of?source=share

Hey same anon. so I finally had some time to write this, it's short and it's sfw though so forgive if you wanted something spicy. I tried to make this reader friendly too.

"M-m-madame- Forgive me for bothering you since you're resting right now, but its urgent!" The nervous greed demon stood in front of you looked like he was about to fall apart any second. It's not like him, he's usually calm and collected.

"What is it now, Martin?" I asked with monotone voice. Sitting at my desk, I set aside my drink to save for later. This better be good.

"We have a special guest at the inn, ma'am. A really important guest. And they wish to speak to you."

"Who is it? Tell them my shift is ov-"

"It's the icon of Sloth!" Martin interrupted.

Silence. My eyes widen from what I heard. A royal guest. Here at this small inn of all places. I stood up from my desk and calmy went over to put on my favorite robe. Without saying anything I left my room. Martin followed behind me.

Luckily, it's not busy at this hour at the inn. Some sloth demons with humans they rented passed by. Sometimes other types visit here too. A large buff wrath demon holding a small demon by the scruff of their neck walked towards us.

"Boss, this one tried to kill one of the humans. What do you want me to do with them?" The Wrath demon spoke.

"Your choice, just get rid of them, permanently, Uthin." I just waved my hand and continued walking.

We entered the lobby. I shoo 'ed Martin to return to the front desk. I immediately noticed a huge demon lying down in the waiting area. The air around us smelled sweet, and fragrant. Very strong and soothing. It feels as if you could sleep instantly in one blink. I can feel my energy draining really fast. Any longer my muscles might betray me, and I'll collapse on the floor. That must be the Icon of Sloth.

I approached the Icon. I put on a tired smile as I made a low bow.

"Greetings, your majesty. A thousand pardons for making you wait. Welcome to the Sleep-Inn. How can I help you this evening?"

There was a long silence from the Icon. I can't tell if he's even looking at me with the veil covering his face. My heart was pounding in my chest. Did I say or do something wrong? Maybe if-

"I want to rent you for the night." The icon rumbled in a soft voice.

I just wanted to finish my drink.

------

Notes:

The names I gave to the demons I just pulled out of my ass. Same with the Inn's name.

Hope I didn't make Zizz too ooc. I kinda guess what it'd feel like if you get too close to Zizz.

It's up to others on what happens next. I just wanted to get this short of my chest.

[No, I think you did a fine job with Zizz! 👌 Also, "Sleep-Inn", sleepin'?? Anon your brain is massive.]

Zizz has heard of your little establishment for a decent while before visiting it, most likely. He did his research, and he decided it was worth his time.

Really, you should be flattered for several reasons here- It's rare for King Zizz to personally visit a location instead of ordering people to come to him, so the fact that he showed up in person is already a serious indicator of interest. The fact that he chose you immediately without even sparing the others any mind is also cause for great flattery needless to say.

For all intents and purposes, Zizz is as courteous as an exemplary customer, although he would prefer to bring you to his mansion than remain in your establishment. The King promises you gentle, soothing dreams, his hold of you loving and careful as he sighs his contentment. His veil is lifted, and in the darkness, Zizz places mellowing kisses along your skin. His touch is always slow and prolonged, and while he's very much hard against you, you can deny him sex.

But know that this will repeat itself every single time he rents you. There will come a time where you spend more nights with him than you do with your workers.

Zizz can keep you if he wants. You know this. He knows you do. There'd be nothing and no one to oppose him.

So really, tell him no all you want when his claws flirt with your mons, shift away when his cock presses against the small of your back and turn your lips away from his kisses- You know you'll just end back here again the next night, and your will isn't infinite.

It's certainly not enough to rival Zizz's.

#Zizz oc

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stainedstardom · 1 year

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Hey I would like to request a Chad x reader! There are very few and he’s like so underrated.

I was hoping for like Chad has had a crush on you since you’ve comforted him after losing his ex and you have always been there for him. So you and the and the group(tara, Mindy, Anika, Quinn, and Ethan) go to a party. At the party Mindy and Tara convinced him to tell you how he feels bc they know you feel the same(like y’all are obsessed.) so when he goes to find you, he see’s this random guy flirting and touching you. He can also see that your very uncomfortable and you tell him to leave you alone in the guy doesn’t listen. Soo full of angry and jealousy he walks over to you guys grab you by the waist and just kisses you harshly infront on the guy. And the kiss turns into a heated MAKEOUT session.

If you want you can turn it into fluff or smut it doesn’t matter!

YES YES YES, SECOND CHAD ASK. I LOVE YOU

SHES MINE

chad meeks martin x reader!!!

when chad lost her, he felt lost himself. like he was gone and never going to find himself and that's when you showed up, let him in and took care of him. he liked it, that's why he liked you. you cared and trusted him. you've been there for him for everything

including this stupid party, why were you here? why didn't you stay home in your dorm? oh I know why, chad. it was always chad, you would probably jump off of a cliff if he asked you too.

you stood in the corner as you sipped out of the cup that chad had handed you as you looked around, at least everyone else was having fun.

"jesus chad just tell how you feel" mindy told her brother who stared at you with heart eyes.

"what if she doesnt feel the same way?" he asked as he looked at mindy. they didn't see you stand up from the corner to get a drink but ethan did and so did another boy.

"you dumbass i can guarantee you she feels the same way, you should see the way she looks at you" anika said

"or talks about you, its so cute its gross" tara exclaimed and ethan smiled at her.

"okay yeah i can do this, the worse she can say is no right?" chad said as he hyped himself.

"yeah yeah now go get your girl" ethan stated and chad nodded.he turned as he went looking for you, he soon found you in the corner with boy. his hands were on your waist but you looked uncomfortable and like you wanted to leave

"oh come on, come with me" he said as he tried to bring you towards the stairs but you held your ground.

"no leave me alone, i dont want to go anywhere with you" you exclaimed and chad smiled softly. he was happy to see you defend yourself but it didn't last long

"oh dont play hard to get" the guy said, he wouldn't leave you alone. chad felt his hands clench and he didn't stop himself. you shoved the guys hands off of you as chad came over. he shoved you against the wall and put his mouth to yours. your eyes widened before you realized it was him.

you calmed down as you kissed him back and you felt him calm down too. his hands drifted down to your waist as he tugged your waist to his and you could feel his groin against yours.

"chad" you said into the kiss and he hummed only confirming the truth that it was him. you smiled as you ran your hand up to his hair and the other held his bicep. he smirked as he felt your grip tighten on his hair.

"jesus" the guy said and you two finally pulled away from each other. you felt chad remove his hand from your waist but he held your hand and kept the other on your waist as your other hand stayed on his bicep.

"i didnt know she had a boyfriend" he told chad and he laughed

"okay well , shes mine and she told you to leave her alone so walk the fuck away" he told the boy who stared at you. you didn't look at him, you wouldn't. you stared at chad in surprise,

"Im yours?" you asked and he turned to you once the boy left.

"youve always been mine and ive always been yours" he said and you smiled as you brought him in and kissed him again. he groaned into it but he held you close.

you were his and he was yours.

A/N: ugh chad, i want him so bad.

#chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks martin x you #chad meeks martin x y/n #chad meeks martin angst #scream fanfic #scream 6 #scream #mason gooding

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fancifulplaguerat · 1 year

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Need to rant about the Marble Nest because I just. I cannot get over it. It is everything to me. Every time I hear “Birdies... birdies... Gather ye here...” I want to eat door hinges and run up the walls and put myself in a blender

There’s something utterly tragic to me about the image of Daniil lying in bed delirious and feverish and dying while these children who care about this weird Capital doctor so much are trying to break his fevers like he taught them to, and it fucks me up even more considering when Spichka asks Daniil who looks after him when he’s sick Daniil just. Doesn’t answer him. And the narrator’s line (I love that they got Martin Cooke he absolutely ate and imo elevates the entire game) “a warm, dry hand seemed to have touched your forehead soothingly. It’s going to be all right” OH MY GOD I just. I can only wretch and sob about the fact that Daniil is being taken care of and at least for a moment he feels like it’s all going to be okay, exactly as he’s been saying throughout the beginning. Also when the narrator says “Somewhere, bells are chiming, softly. Bells are chiming around the marble nest. The bells, are chiming, softly.” Not only does Cooke’s delivery make me feral beyond words (particularly that last one where he whispers ‘softly’) but I mean. surely this is referring to Daniil hearing his own goddamn funeral bells which just SCREAMING CRYING BITING SCRATCHING COMMITTING UNSPEAKABLE ACTS.

Plus when Spichka warns Daniil against giving Shrew nuts because, as we learn, Shrew wants to let Daniil die. I unfortunately can’t find the exact quote but I believe Spichka says smth about how Shrew doesn’t think it’s right for Daniil to suffer as he is (there is blood in my mouth !!!!!). She clearly just wants Daniil to rest and not be in pain anymore; she thinks she can create a Focus so she can still talk to him. I’m also Highly Emotional about Spichka because he’s so adamant about Daniil continuing to live, even if it’s just in his fever dream, this poor kid just wants Daniil to keep going. These kids have known Daniil Bitchelor for all of ten days and they care about him so much !!!

I’m also hung up on everyone telling Daniil that he doesn’t know how to die properly, especially when Aspity likens him to a child covering his eyes because he doesn’t want to see the truth, which gets me too because it makes me think about how defeated and afraid Daniil probably is when he realizes what’s going on. I think it’s even more tragic in the sense that Daniil is dying having failed to meet Simon and save Thanatica, failed to prove death can be conquered, and couldn’t even protect the Town from the plague, either, and I can’t imagine Daniil would handle any of that well. I feel like he’d think everything—plague and all—was his fault, especially with the context of the Executor/Death saying, “Who was the murderer: a sickness that let no second go to waste—or you, who bothered not to hurry? I think it’s the latter.”

Also when Daniil does agree to die properly and the Executor tells Daniil “Give me your hand,” and Daniil can say “Here it is”,,,,,, Yes I am being dramatic but actually it makes me insane to imagine Daniil finally taking Death’s hand after fighting it for so many years. Even though I love this horrible little man with all my heart, I disagree with his whole “no more death” thing. I’m not going to like. Expound on my philosophy about death here aafnkgk but suffice it to say I like the idea of Daniil accepting that death is not something that can be defeated; though, I don’t think his idealism is useless or a negative trait, only that it has to be tempered with some realism.

So here is as good a point as any to scream about endings.

It's a cycle. A pause. Things will change. And the day starts anew.

That. Tjat second sentence is lodged in my cortex and it is not coming out I ougghh I love stories that repeat so much. And I’ve played the Marble Nest just. Too many times (and I’ll do it again) and I might be imagining it, because I’ve never seen anyone else talk about it, but every time I’ve gotten a different ending the game is a little different when I play it again. I find that extremely immersive if I’m not just gaslighting myself, because it puts the player in the same situation as Daniil, with things changing subtly; you get to accompany Daniil on his Fun Fever Delirium Death Adventure. On the one hand I think it’s a little painful that Daniil is going to just live in this delirium forever, but on the other one, I like how Daniil’s decision to repeat the day encapsulates continuing to fight for life, even if it seems hopeless or in vain. It feels very “Do not go gentle into that good night / Rage, rage against the dying of the light"

And finally The transition is real, and the timeline continues. So does the entity I call myself.

I don’t want to get into meta too much, but. I kind of like this line knowing people have written/drawn/etc. endings to this nightmare where Artemy saves him with panacea (Magpie Crown’s “Conjunction of Spheres” animatic !!). All these different endings people have given Daniil’s story in general. This is silly but I like to think of it as yeah, The Powers That Be played a cruel game with you, but other people are kinder to you (or make you suffer more, depends on their persuasion). Your story keeps going, depending on who picks up the thread, you’re going to keep going.

Anyway everyone go watch CodexEntry’s video on the Marble Nest <3

#pathologic #the marble nest #daniil dankovsky #patho.txt

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yellowkitkieran · 1 year

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Afterglow (Martin Odegaard)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Based loosely on ‘Afterglow’ by Taylor Swift. Requested by anonymous.

Babe, you need to see this. I'm sorry.

The second you read the message from your best friend, your heart stutters. A link comes through seconds later. Your hand shakes as you click on it and an article fills your screen. The article brings your world crashing down before you read anything past the headline. It shows your boyfriend Martin laughing with a pretty blonde woman, one hand on her hip and the other holding hers as they walk out of a nondescript building. By all accounts, it looks damning.

A fire lights in your belly, one born of jealousy rage. How dare he? After everything he'd promised you? Who does he think he is? A million questions swirl in your mind, most of them barbed and accusatory. You glance at the clock, silently thankful that Martin should be there any second and you don't have to stew on this for long.

Everything inside you wants to smash the photos in your flat until Martin's face is nowhere to be found. Three years down the drain for what was probably a fling. It isn't your fault you don't want to fuck as much as he does! That's probably all it was too; just sex, a replacement for what you couldn't always give him. And it stings to know he'd gone and found that somewhere else.

You hear his keys outside your front door. Mentally drawing up your walls, you remind yourself to stand strong as it swings open. "Søta? I'm- oh hey. I missed you today."

Where Martin's voice is soft, yours is hard as stone. "Oh, did you? Are you sure you aren't mistaking me for that blonde you're fucking on the side?"

All color drains from Martin's face in an instant, which tells you all you need to know. "What do you mean? I'm not- you're my one and only, you know that!"

And now he has the audacity to lie to your face. "Are you fucking kidding me? You're really gonna stand there and pretend like I don't know what's going on? I saw the article Martin!"

"What article?" Martin rakes a nervous hand through his hair, voice raw and confused but you don't care. "Søta I swear-"

"Don't call me that!" You shove at Martin's chest with all your strength, breaking the loose grip he has on your arms. You feel like a cornered stallion, bucking and kicking because your heart is beating so wildly you can't hear anything over its roar in your ears.

"The evidence is right here," you say, shoving your phone in his face. "Are you gonna tell me this photo is fake? Staged? 'Martin Ødegaard caught out and about with a new girl'? How do you think that makes me feel, that I have to find out about this through my friend? I'm an idiot!"

Martin made a promise that he would never, ever hurt you, and now he's done the worst possible thing you can do to another human. You trusted him with your fragile, taped together heart that you feared had been broken one too many times to be functional. But he had nurtured you, planted seeds of affection and helped you learn what real love looks like. Now he's ripped the rug out from under you and left you damaged.

Martin stands stoic in the face of your hurricane of emotion. His eyes are red rimmed but other than that, he shows nothing on his face. "It's not true," he whispers, pleading with you to believe him. "You have to know it's not real. You know I would never do something like that."

You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest, "I can't listen to your excuses Martin. Please go."

Martin's face crumbles like your heart. He reaches for you but you step away, unwilling to let his touch bend your perception of events in his favor. One touch and you'll be done- your confidence will dissolve and you'll fall into his arms and let him hurt you again and again.

"I love you."

Your hands fly up to your ears like a child, protecting yourself from his words. You squeeze your eyes shut. You try to block out the way you can still feel him standing a few feet from you. When you finally open them some minutes later, Martin is finally gone. A folded slip of white paper sits on the floor where his feet were, but you don't touch it.

The best thing you've ever had is gone, and you're afraid you'll never find something so sweet again.

*********

Søta can we please talk?

I miss you.

Please just let me explain, I swear it isn't what you think it is

You refuse to respond to a single one of Martin's messages. You've been ignoring them for days and they have begun to pile up in your inbox, and still you refuse to touch them. You remain firm in your position that he'd done you wrong, that damning photo splashed across tabloids everywhere. He'd embarrassed you- how hard was it to break up with someone before moving on?

There's one singular image of Martin that comes out of Arsenal's training all week. He isn't looking at the camera but his posture alone is enough to tell you how heavy his heart is. You hate seeing him like that, despite everything. It isn't like your love for him evaporated; you still feel the same for him and seeing him so blue hurts.

Something constricts in your chest and for the first time in six days, and after much internal debate, you allow yourself to search for his name on Instagram.

And it's then that you see her post explaining the story. It's a short reel and your curiosity gets the better of you- why would Martin choose her over you, the woman he claimed to love until the end of time?

"Hey guys, I just wanted to hop on and address those images of me and Martin Ødegaard that have been circulating online. First and foremost, nothing happened! I literally fell flat on my face seconds before that as we were coming out the door- he was helping me walk in those stupid tall heels that I shouldn't have been in the first place.

"I swear that's all it was- we both had photo shoots in the same building that day and he'd stopped to help me because I was struggling. I hadn't even met him before that day, and the only reason I know who he is, is thanks to everyone online!"

You lock your phone and set it on the table, completely stunned. Oh, you'd fucked up big time. Leaving your phone behind you grab your keys and your jacket, heart pounding as you rush out the door.

You have to see him. You have to set things right.

You make it to his house in record time. The weather must pick up and feed off your mood because just as you pull up the skies open up, rain pouring down from a suddenly cloudy sky.

"Fuck it, let's go," you mumble to yourself, hopelessly holding your hands over your head as you run for his door. You knock frantically, praying he's home. You hadn't stopped to check what day it is- was he at recovery? Training? Was it a match day-

The door swings open and you're greeted by an exhausted looking Norwegian. Martin drums up a half smile, shifting his weight to his right foot, "Hey."

Seeing him now, everything comes crashing down. You should've let him speak before just barreling ahead. It wasn't right for you to shut him out the way you had. He deserved a chance to defend himself and you'd been so terrified of being hurt that you'd jumped to conclusions.

You throw your arms around his neck and pull him out into the rain for a fierce hug, not caring that you're soaked to the bone. You bury your face in his shoulder as he instinctively soothes a hand over your back, unsure what was happening but hating seeing you upset all the same.

"Shh søta it's alright… what's happened? Do you want to come inside?"

You pull back to look up at him, threading your fingers in the hair on the back of his head. "No- Martin I'm so sorry for everything. I should've let you speak instead of just accusing you of something I knew you wouldn't ever do. And I know you probably can't forgive me but I'm gonna do my best to earn it as best I can."

Martin smiles and brushes your sopping hair off your forehead. The tenderness in the gesture carries the weight of a thousand words and instantly you feel lighter. "I was never upset with you, and there's nothing to forgive. I don't blame you for reacting the way you did. I'm just glad you're here now… but I am gonna take you inside before you get sick and I have to take care of you."

You smile, silently grateful for him and the fact that the rain hides your tears. "I love you Mar, I'm glad you were home. I didn't really have a plan, I just knew I needed to speak with you."

Martin takes your hand and leads you inside before he says anything else. "You know where the spare key is anyway. I wouldn't put it past you to wait here and ambush me when I finally did get home." Martin kneels in front of you, allowing you to hold his shoulder for balance while he takes off your wet shoes and sets them aside. Then he starts on your jeans, unbuttoning them and working them down your legs, though the wet denim provides a challenge, "also, let's just put this all behind us okay? I want to forget it ever happened."

Standing before him half dressed, you smile at the man in front of you. No one has ever knelt before you, and certainly no one has ever looked at you the way Martin is now. His face is open and vulnerable, a beautiful sight to behold as rainwater drips down his cheeks and off his chin to dot the carpet under your feet. You place your hand on his jaw and guide him to his feet, pulling him in for a wet kiss as his hands find your hips.

"Just say you love me," you murmur against him, his warmth warding off the cold from your soaked skin.

"I love you," he whispers into your mouth. "And I think we need a warm shower."

You pull back to search his expression, trying to determine his mood. "Together?" You ask tentatively, because you're not ready to be apart from him just yet.

Martin offers you a cheeky grin and grabs your bum, "together. Definitely together."

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fantasy #footballer fic #footballer fanfiction #footballer fluff #footballer imagine #arsenal fc #alt timeline lover #jac writes

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popcornforone · 5 days

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MAY

From the Marcus Pike Fan Fic Diary

Master list

April

Sorry you were meant to get this a few weeks ago & then I had an idea so delayed this, but the diary is still going strong. This is more about their relationship than the sex, but it’s still there.

Synopsis:- Marcus plays in a band & you always tag along to see them perform at the local bar.

Word count:- 1850

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF TOU ARE UNDER 18! Established relationship, pining, swearing, admiring, anal sex, other sex implied as well, alcohol, being a muse. Yea I think that’s it. If you’ve read any of the 4 chapters before this you will know what this diary is like.

Thanks as always for the read peoples, I hope you enjoy.

I love band night. Our local bar every Wednesday puts one on. We’ve seen loads of acts that have made it big over the years. It was the third night that Marcus & I went to this that he popped to the toilet & left me at the bar. The bartender knew what was about to happen, they winked at me as the mc took the stage & then on walked Marcus & his band “So Selfish”. My jaw hit the floor, my panties damp instantly as he strummed that base guitar. We’d only had sex a few times & I wasn’t sure exactly how I truly felt. Safe to say that night, he strummed me like a man possessed . So in the zone. It was the first time I ever squirted as that thumb & fingers had me quivering in desire.

So last night I knew he was playing. I no longer have to turn up with Marcus when he played. The staff knows when I get here what my drinks order is & where my favourite spot to watch him from is. I want the correct amount of reverb from his voice. I know how he’s gonna sound smooth then rough & then smooth & it’s gonna make me feel all unnecessary when he screams the word “& I know you’ve gone all naughty just for me” I know it’s about me. He is the only man I’ve left fuck my arse & he knows that there’s a huge chance that this happens after band night. I turn into a little groupie for Marcus & he can have a back stage pass.

On he & So Selfish walk. Gone are his agent clothes, replaced by a lose grey tshirt that will stink of sweat by the time I peel it off his body tonight. His jeans dark charcoal & those doc martin boots peek out below them. The hair is ruffled but it’s not quiet bed hair. His belt buckle in silver & black has a snake on it. The eye a red gem. Keeping its eye on the crowd. His arms are bare from just above the elbow, his wrists have bracelets & ties on them. Who’d have ever thought soft little Marcus, the worlds best & most professional agent, would be a rocker like this for peoples enjoyments every couple of months. I notice the brackets & see there is one that’s slightly different, it’s glistening white & blue when the rest are black or red.

“What’s up the jesters” he grabs the mic & says & its meet with a very large cheer. The bar is always packed on Wednesdays for band night. “If you don’t know us by now we are So Selfish we play soft indi rock & for 90mins tonight we are here for your entertainment, so please try not to get drunk until our third half an hour.” It’s met with laughter & Marcus scoffs & he looks up to see me. I do a shy wave. I’m not meaning to match him but I’m in my long floaty grey vest top which has a butterfly embroidered on it. My pale blush wash jeans & my converses can’t be seen bellow the counter I’m leaning on. There’s about 10 rows of people between Marcus & I but I don’t care. I see his little smile. He knows where to look for me & I raise my glass of whisky to him & wink. His eyes dazzle & he smiles. “Right let’s get to this our first song is Ruined” he turns to his band who i know all to well by now & they all nod. The drummer counts in & they begin their first 30mins at 7:30pm.

During their second 30mins a group of girls, very blonde giggly & busty make their way to the front to cry & catch Marcus eye. I’m happy for him to look but I know he’s not gonna touch. On a normal day none of these girls would give my man the time of day. He’s said before he met me, that being the lead singer in a band meant he got attention but they just wanted the fling & he’d always been after the real thing. They might stand inches from my man screaming wanting him to drip sweat on their boobs but they will never get the satisfaction I get from him. I can still smell him from here. His scent is extraordinary anyhow, but when his adrenalin pumps & he’s in the zone, it’s a real turn on. My pheromones go into overdrive & always make me broody. He entertains the girls a few kisses are blown as he sings “but you’re just trouble”.

Before the third & final 30mins he & the guys hit the bar & I order 2 double whiskys, with a dash of water on ice. As they both arrive at where I’m sat, a large firm hand graces my waste.

“Baby”

“Handsome” he nuzzles his head into my neck as he says this & I gasp. His lips pepper me with kisses making me turn red & close my eyes as I start to moan. I flinch when he retracts.

“How’s it going so far?” His large fingers trail around the rim of his glass.

“Phenomenol as usual Marcus”

“Well you always say that”

“It’s the truth”

“Is it or are you just addicted to the lead singer?”

“Maybe” we both take large gulps of our drink. “I mean he’s so sexy, & not just tonight” we both smoulder at each other, our lustful gazes not dropping. Eyes only close when he takes my lips deeply. The way that hand feels against the side of my face & neck. I hear a few people murmur about the kiss but it makes Marcus go deeper. A kiss of lust, sweat, whisky & love connecting two people who feel so alive.

“God I love you” he whispers in my ear.

“Right back at you Marcus” I say & grab his hand, stroking over those fingers. I then feel him shuffle off the new bracelet & slide it onto my wrist.

“Don’t look at that until the time is right baby, you’ll know when” he downs the rest of his whiskey & we kiss once more before he & the band get ready for the third round.

The temptation to look at what he’s put on my wrist is huge. It feels like beads, as I run my hand around it. But I don’t. He always has little Easter eggs in his shows for the select few who know the band. Today is obviously a joke about us.

I sit there in awe during them performing. They don’t want massive fame. They are happy playing a gig every couple of months just here in dc. They are all just good friends who like to play & are decent. I sit there sipping on my next drink & smile at him. He is definitely getting a back stage pass tonight. He sings the song about that & then they pause. He looks at his lead guitarist. The way the sweat drips off his head when he is in side profile is so sexy. I’m so turned on. My man looks so hot, so rough. He’s my sweet little Marcus who calls me his good girl, but tonight he can choke me out & call me a slut.

“Before we do are normal last 3 songs I want us to do a cover song if that’s okay, we only rehearsed this recently but it means a lot to me & someone special in the crowd tonight.” My eyes widen he isn’t is he “so if she looks down at her gift, she will know this song but to the rest of you just enjoy.”

I look down. It’s a blue & white friendship bracelet. A black & a pink heart are on two beads with the letters YOYOK & then blue & white beads. It’s my favourite Taylor Swift song & Marcus has always laughed that I love my rock & proper music & then that I’m a Swiftie. But tonight he’s singing it. The band play it & I try not to cry, stroking the bracket for comfort. My man & his friends are playing something so personal to me & I sit there trying to be calm. Inside my body my heart races. My brain is screaming. Everything is shivering. This is so personal but also so much more than that. I eventually give in & let the tears fall down my face especially when he winks at me. I’m an emotional wreck.

The rest of the gig is a blur I was in a trance, but I remember kissing his lips like I needed it more than water after the show. He squeezed by arse & the way his sweaty hands roamed across me gave me a sensual sensation. I don’t remember the drinks afterwards or the taxi back to our place. The first thing I remember is him sucking my nipples.

“Marcus” I moaned. My own hands inside his boxers getting him harder, precum staining the insides. We didn’t even make it to the bedroom. I was naked & on all fours as he licked away at me & then growled as he eventually rubbed his throbbing head against me.

“Back stage?” He slapped my arse.

“VIP my sexy rock… OOOOOHHH GOD!” I screamed. He’d lubed me up before this but he didn’t go slowly. Marcus was rampant, my arse was filled to the brim as I gripped onto the sofa with all my might, trying to catch my breath.

“Like that baby”

“Fucking love it” I moaned back his base fingers are holding one of my hips while the other strums my clit, I know how fast those fingers go.

“Mmm mmmm Marcus”

“Fuck baby” he has never been so rampant in his life. I didn’t know anal could feel this incredible but it does. He didn’t even tease with his fingers to open me up like he usually does. He’s balls deep pumping away into my arse as I screamed for more.

“Fuck oooh fuck yea baby, it’s so fucking good”

“Fuck oooh fuck, why is this even tighter than your cunt.”

I have no idea how long it lasted but I know that when he’s about to cum he takes his penis out of my arse, slotting it quickly inside my quivering pussy. I’d had multiple orgasms & he knew I wanted the ultimate satisfaction. He then fucked me until we both couldn’t go anymore, in a sexual haze we drifted off.

We both were late to work this morning we’d both passed out after our exertions on the sofa & our phones battery had died. It was a major panic suddenly hear Marcus shaking me going fuck baby it 9:30. There wasn’t even time for a shower for either of us. We had to be out, & at work, but was it worth it for last night with my rockstar & the special treatment we both received? Fuck yes.

June

#pedro pascal #fanfic #my fics #smutt #no minors #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #over18 #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fan fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal universe #marcus pike fanfics #marcus pike fan fic #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus pike #marcus pike fic

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magnetarmadda · 10 months

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@tmaappreciationweek Day 5: What If? What if they kissed after Jon went to America, huh?? What if?????

Martin first realized how desperately he wanted to kiss Jon in the aftermath of what was apparently his second kidnapping. He'd gingerly helped clean and rebandage Jon's wounds, touched Jon's skin as little as possible, and made them both tea as they sat in the quiet, dim break room. Looking over the brim of his mug, he'd been struck with the feeling, that he'd like to kiss it all better for Jon. He hadn't been unaware of his feelings before that, of course, but it was something akin to being hit by a truck, and he'd choked on his tea. Jon's subsequent frown and murmured, "Okay?" had done unfair things to Martin's heart. But Jon was thoroughly traumatized, couldn't handle skin contact at all—Martin had accidentally touched a finger when passing over tea, and he'd almost completely broken down. So Martin tied his feelings in a series of complicated knots and dropped them into the sea—they were far from relevant right now. Then, the phone calls. So many phone calls while Jon was in America, nearly every night, and the intimacy had grown. What started as relatively stilted, mostly on-topic phone calls had given way to casual, friendly conversation, and then soft mutterings of, "I miss you." So Martin had made up his mind. He wouldn't push, of course, but with the potential end of the world from clowns and mannequins looming over their heads, he'd decided there was no point in holding back his feelings, in at least saying aloud the growing affection in his ribs—affection he had started to hope was returned. Looking at Jon now, Martin's holding onto every piece of remaining courage he has. Jon's smile is soft and a bit sleepy, but his eyes are shining as they sit down for tea, as though this is routine. Jon is telling a story about his flight back, something about a seat partner who didn't believe in sharing arm rests, and Martin is grinning. The words don't matter, not really, just that Jon is here, telling this story, and that Martin can see he's alive and whole and not kidnapped again. Christ, Martin loves him. Martin chokes on his tea, reminiscent of that night weeks ago, when the intensity of his desire to comfort Jon had lighted itself upon him. "Martin?" Jon asks, eyebrows furrowing and one hand reaching out for Martin. "Are you all right?" Still coughing a bit, Martin nods frantically, trying to clear his throat. He stumbles over his words a few times, but somehow manages to convince Jon that he's not dying from his own tea. (That would've been embarrassing.) Whatever else Jon was going to have said, his face curves into a fond smile, and the lines around his mouth crinkle as he says, "I missed you." Giving one more cough, this one mostly to cover his embarrassment, Martin repeats softly, "I missed you, too." "O-oh," Jon says, eyes widening in surprise a bit, but he looks delighted. "R-really?" Martin laughs, he can't help it. "Of course, Jon," Martin replies, still smiling. He could leave it here, let the moment pass, but Jon's eyes—happy, surprised, a little sad—spur him on, and Martin yanks on the bundle of courage he'd amassed. "I'm mad about you, you know." Jon seems to have no idea what to say to this, and Martin can feel himself getting redder and redder as the seconds tick by. He's considering retracting his words—well, not exactly, but trying to smooth them over and then make as graceful an exit as possible—when Jon stands abruptly. Martin realizes the enormity of his fuck-up and begins to apologize, but the words die on his tongue when Jon stops in front of Martin's chair. Jon places his hands atop Martin's shoulders and then he's kissing Martin, and Martin finds he doesn't care one wit about an apology.

#the magnus archives #jonmartin #tmaappreciationweek #my writing #my fic #I thought I'd queued this but lo and behold it was only a draft

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mads-weasley · 10 months

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hi! can i make a request for a Johnny Martin fic, if u write for him, of him and reader snuggled in a foxhole in Bastogne??

Follow You Anywhere

Johnny Martin x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Hi anon! Thanks for requesting! I've never written for Johnny, so sorry if this isn't the best! this is also a really short blurb! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog! Enjoy!

Summary: After a long day in Bastogne, everyone takes advantage of the little downtime they have, including the stoic Johnny Martin.

It had been a long day for Johnny when he plopped into his foxhole. They'd lost Hoobler to a self-inflicted gunshot wound, and he didn't know how much more he could take. As a sergeant, he was tasked with keeping up with his platoon, and in the Ardennes, it was harder than before.

"Hey," (y/n) whispered, stuffing her hands under her armpits. "How are the rest of the guys?"

Johnny sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. "After Hoob, they're not doing good."

She looked over at him and saw utter exhaustion. They all felt the same, but Johnny felt more than everyone thought. The stern and sharp-tongued officer cared for his men more than they would ever know, and every time he lost one, it devastated him.

Reaching over, she gently cupped his cheek, turning him towards her. "And how are you doing, Johnny?"

He silently stared at her for a while, almost like he was trying to find the words to accurately describe his pain. Johnny ended up shaking his head with slightly red-rimmed eyes.

"I'm managing."

(Y/n) pulled him closer and wrapped her arms around him as he nuzzled his face into her neck. She had to suppress a shiver from the touch of his frigid nose. "You know I'm always here, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he murmured into her neck. "I just don't want to talk about it yet."

Nodding, she leaned her head atop his and looked up at the sky above them. There wasn't much to see because of all the bad weather, but she imagined the stars shining on them brightly.

"Who would've thought you could take the stars for granted?" She asked quietly.

Johnny scoffed lightly, looking up as well. "Yeah, I'd do freaking anything just to feel the sun again. Or see the stars. It might make this a little more bearable."

An icy wind gust blew through the forest, sending snow swirling around them. In their already freezing foxhole, Johnny tucked (y/n) under his arm and covered them with the thin blanket he'd found.

"You know," she started. "When we get home, I don't know if I could live somewhere cold again after being in this place."

Johnny looked down at the shaking figure in his arms and took in the redness of her nose and cheeks, but also the beauty that radiated through. "Me too, sweetheart. I'll follow you anywhere you want to go."

"But what about Columbus?" (Y/n) asked, wide-eyed. "You can't just leave. That's where your whole life is, Johnny."

A soft smile formed on his lips at her confused expression. "Doll, as long as I'm with you, I'll be alright."

“Well then, Sergeant Martin, what do you think about Arizona?”

Tag List: @softguarnere @mrsgeorgeluz @flowers-and-fichte @inglourious-imagines @peggyvan @rebeccapearson

Let me know if you want to be added!!

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers masterlist #johnny martin #peewee martin #johnny martin x reader #johnny martin x y/n #johnny martin imagines #easy company #battle of the bulge #bastogne #fluff #johnny martin fluff #johnny martin angst #mads' fandomshurt #hurt/comfort

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doofus-and-dragons · 10 months

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This will more than likely be the last one of these I have. So, for the last time, here is my live reaction to the final season of TMA. These will be in no particular order because ice been listening to it over the span of a couple of weeks. I only listen to it at work.

TMA S5 Spoilers ahead

The cabin episode made me so sad. The eyepocolypse had even taken away their domestic bliss

I really don't remember the trenches that well. It's not a fear of mine, so it didn't shake me or stick well enough. Still good tho

The sickness episode sent me right back to senior year of highschool. I had to take a minute KXNSKXN

REVOLUTIONS WAS AMAZING I LOVED THE POETRY AND THE ACENGING OF SASHA BY KILLING NOT!SASHA. I love it.

At first I thought the worms was about Jane again but I was very wrong. It was a very interesting take!

Curiosity made me incredibly sad. I feel bad for Eric, Micheal, and Sarah(? Trinity? I don't remember. She was set on fire by a desolation avatar I think)

Also: Gertrude x Agnes perhaps???? Or at least solemn pinning? Maybe I just think it's slightly tragic to make it so and sometimes angst is good yknow?

Roots was ok, but the only part that stuck out to me was the jealous Martin scene. I listened to it like 3 times. I kept rewinding it just to list to it.

Fire Escape was SO good! It gave me a kind of manic energy as I listened to the descriptions of the fire.

Martin in the Lonely again made me cry. That's it.

"Who's this? Your boyfriend?" "Yes actually." "Oh...so is there anyway this doesn't end in me dead?"

The Basira and Daisy stuff actually did make me feel bad for Basira. Like, it's the apocalypse and she's having a whole ass crisis.

SALESA WAS INCREADIBLE

I wonder how he faked his death... man is talented and smart, I'll give him that

Skipping ahead to Martin's domain. Loved that. My boy isn't strictly human and I love that he can't deny that fact anymore.

Martin: Something something "one of you"

Jon, being a smug theater kid bastard boy: "One of us."

Like I heard that and I imagined him smirking ominously and gesturing with both his hands

He sounded so pleased that his boyfriend, as miniscule a role it had or that martin had, was like him, and I love that for him

I'm so glad Melanie and Georgie are happy. Though, the cult does weird me out (cults give me the heebie jeebies. It was a very nice touch!)

They deserve nice things.

Also, my favorite of the Cult members was Anil's character. I can't remember his name right off the top of my head, but he was wonderful. Anil did amazing with that little cameo/role

The scene where's he's arguing with Martin reminds me of that Jojo meme with jotoro and dio, but instead of stands they have their poetry clutched tight in their fists

"I dont need a poet." No, Jon, because you already have one. His name is Martin

Of course Jon gets trapped in the ocean when he doesn't have big string martin to row him out of it XD

SOMEWHERE ELSE SOMEWHERE ELSE SOMEWHERE ELSE

Annabelle Cane is wonderful, I'm so glad Jon didn't kill her. She's so chummy with Martin up until she has to be a dramatic villain and I love that for her!

The ladder episode made me grin like a maniac manly because I would be the Martin in that situation. I love the feeling of falling/floating, but I hate actually getting myself to fall. I physically can't do it. I can barely dive into the lake from my papaw's boat

Martin, there are thousands of fanfics that dive into you two getting together without the trauma. Don't even.

NO JON THE PLAN

Hey, real elias! That's where him being a stoner comes from! Because he is one! Nice.

I love og Elias, and I would protect him with my life I don't care.

Oh wait it was just Magnus dreaming

JON NO THE PLAN FUCKING HELL

I almost cried when Martin was yelling at Jon. The boys are fighting

THE KISS HOLY SHIT ALEX SAKD THEY WOULDNT KISS THEY KISSED AH

They're somewhere else being happy and domestic now you can't change my mind

#basira hussain #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #mag 200 #tma s5 #tma s5 spoilers #melanie king #georgie #their cult ig #mikaele salesa #alice daisy tonner #jonmartin #somewhere else #annabelle cane

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frostironfudge · 1 year

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Conversations With The Devil (Part 2) - Bucky Barnes

Summary: For the week 2 writing game by @the-slumberparty i chose to continue one of my first one shots submitted to a challenge, Conversations With The Devil (part one) can be read here. My opening line prompt was 'He was at a crossroads and whichever path he chose would ruin someone’s life.'

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Devil! Bucky x Desi! Female!Reader

Word Count: 6.9k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, seances gone wrong, Oral F and M receiving, horror themes, smut, having sex with the devil?, a smidge of demon cock (nothing explicit just demon p grinding against human v), overstimulation, p in v, multiple orgasms, magic, sort of god complex, a little dark, whump, possession of a family member of the reader (not very horror-esque), protective bucky, horny bucky, devil bucky is a menace. please proceed with caution, you are responsible for your media consumption.

Masterlist || AO3

He was at a crossroads and whichever path he chose would ruin someone’s life. Not that he ever cared for either kind of critters that littered the realms he roamed. Bucky was more so concerned with himself, always himself and his concerns.

Even months ago when he stumbled across those three little humans during the seance.

He stares at the gold gleaming around his wrist, it was surprising this piece of magick. Remaining uncut by the most demonic and angelic of swords. The fire of hell did not melt the gold. Incantations that would have worlds collapsing did not break the chains.

A curse or blessing upon the human’s family. He scoffs, at least they were no longer binding his neck and right hand. Only one remained around his left wrist keeping the two of them coterminous across realms. He licks his lips remembering her taste on his tongue. His cock hardens, then Bucky focuses his eyes back on the demons arguing in his court. He resists the urge to roll his eyes at their repetitive blabber.

Tear apart limbs this, possess little red haired ragdoll that; Bucky groans internally.

Then a wicked smile stretches across his face. He should check in on his own little Doll. She did just tempt him. It had been days since he teased her from his throne. The tendrils bellow softly beneath his throne, making their way to the portal he had hidden.

Closing his eyes, Bucky visualises her, hmm, a different outfit than he’d seen her wear before. The long skirt shifts delicately with each step.

His gaze takes you in, your brows furrow as you turn in the empty corridor trying to discern why the feeling of being watched creeps up your spine. His fists clenched as he stopped himself from allowing you to feel his touch.

You would have to wait.

You’re at yet another boring pre wedding dinner with the entire family. Distant cousins, uncles and aunts all gathered around. The loved by all elders and hated by all cousins, cousin Shaiyana, beams brightly as she shows off her man.

Only the women in the family can see the faint gold chains that extend from her own bracelet to the boy’s neck and hands. You bite the inside of your cheek.

No one knew yet of Bucky or the fact that the chains had reduced from three to one over the span of six months. His intermittent visits and the one instance where he–no, he wasn’t there because of you. He had to cage that demon. He wasn’t there for you.

Your mind still brings forth that night, from four months ago.

Four Months Earlier.

Martin shrugs you off yet again, saying this time the seance would be foolproof. Lesser candles and Misha’s confidence lured you into the plan yet again. So there you all sat, fingers on the planchette.

Dread filled every crevice of your chest. The hairs on your body rising as the temperature dropped enough for you to see Misha’s breathy exhale followed by Martin’s sniffle.

“Why does this happen to us?” Martin questions, the planchette moves to the letters.

The two of them stare at you with accusatory gazes as your name is spelled out.

“What–,” Your words are cut off as the three of you are yanked into corners of the room. You wheeze out as a pressure builds upon your chest, your hands placed down an invisible force holding you down.

Misha’s voice echoes with the prayer followed by three claps, you breathe hard as the pressure vanishes.

“What the fuck was that?” They ask you.

You shake your head, “I don’t know.”

Checking your hands, three long lines manifest across your forearm as though scrapped. No words or responses form. Wordlessly you help them fix their living room and leave for your own home.

The studio apartment greets you as you had left it. Every little common sound, reasonable thump has you on edge. Part of you wonders if Bucky would know what that was, if he would even appear again.

The last time you saw him was when he raised his head from between your shaking thighs and licked his fingers and lips. Then he left. You knew he was still bound when your bracelet gleamed with three chains that seemingly went nowhere. As it did every day since that night two months ago.

You stare at the bracelet yet again and sigh a part of you sought him out. Wanting to know more, wanting to talk to him, feel him pressed against you again. Shaking the thoughts away, you go through your routine before bed.

Soon enough your earlier dread returns just on the cusp of sleep. Before you can utter the little prayer to defend yourself, the weight on your chest returns, heavier than before and you can hear the low growl above you.

Your bracelet shifts closer to your palms, your folded fingers brush over the chains. Your mind brings forth his deepening azure eyes.

The presence yet again holds your hands down. It reminds you of sleep paralysis only occurring when you’ve had the most tiring of days.

“Please–,” You rasp, “Let m-me g-go, p-please–,” The pressure adds onto your throat the tears pooling now brim over.

You can feel one breath remaining, it's a long shot you know.

“Bucky.” You whisper into the room, only resulting in the pressure intensifying on your chest.

There is a snarl from the edge of your apartment, darkness shrouds a tall looming figure. Your eyes widen fighting the urge to close. Your struggles increase and the figure moves closer, the shadowy tendrils move across the space wrapping around above you, around nothing and they pull. As soon as they pull away you cough the ability to breathe freely returns.

The darkness now towers above your bed. You watch the invisible creature appear with crooked limbs and bottomless pits for eyes. It is pulled to the ground and a portal closes just as it is dragged under ground.

You look up at the darkness, it clears, a horned creature watches you, its face covered in cracks as though marble damaged. The colour of its skin is a mix of grey and the cracks seemingly gold.

Its eyes blazing red with a catlike shape, trained upon you as it levitates upside down, you watch the gargoyle-like wings not open to their full expanse given the space, its lower body still covered by the bellowing tendrils. The demon settles across you on your bed.

It saved you.

Tilting its head it observes you silently. Lips unmoving just watching you.

Your hands move to where the other demon’s scratches grave your forearm, its eyes follow the movement. It grabs your forearm and pushes up your sleeve. The demon’s face morphs into surprise you think.

Maybe it wondered why you were not screaming? Or reciting pages of a holy scripture at it.

Your brows furrow, its touch is familiar. The long fingers with dark nails begin to morph as they hold your hand, its eyes once again angry. In a practised sequence the horns and wings disappear, then the body, hands and face turn more human.

“Bucky?” Your surprise makes him look away from the scratches. His eyes still red, he blinks and you’re greeted by the familiar azure.

“I’ll make him pay.” He assures, before the tendrils wrap around him, his hands begin to disappear.

You panic again, “No!”

“What is it?” His voice sounds irritable.

“I,” you swallow before meeting his hard gaze, “I wanted to say thank you for answering my call…”

“Your call?” He snorts, you feel his hand better again, “I’ve been trying to find that demon, he’s fucking up all my plans. Made a mess in hell. You think I would answer a mortal’s call? Isn’t that what your almighty above is for?” He sneers, thumb tracing delicately over the scratches a stark contrast to his words.

You watch as they fade, “Oh, well, thank you for um, getting rid of it?” you change the words around. He rolls his eyes.

He stands creating distance between the two of you.

“Don’t do anymore seances.” He warns, his demonic form taking over yet again before he disappears.

As Bucky stands before the bound demon, he raises his hand and forms a fist. The demon cries out in pain as all three hooked fingers on each of its four hands are crushed.

“You do not touch what is mine. You do not scare what is mine.” Bucky speaks calmly but his threat is clear.

“I’m sorry, Sire. My King I didn’t know that stupid mortal was your plaything–,”

The click of Bucky’s tongue has the demon cower back, the circle engraved onto the ground would not let the creature escape.

“You do not insult what is mine.” Bucky inhales, then closes his eyes, smiling as the demon’s pained screams surround him.

Days later Bucky watches as you go about your day, he’s noticed how you look at your bracelet with a sense of longing. Each time you do, there is a soft tug on the chains on his end. He was surprised when the other demons and creatures could not see the chains. It appeared only you and him could see them.

He follows you around, when one of your co-workers gets a little too close and reaches for your shoulder his unheard to you growl has the man retract his hand. You tilt your head as the co-worker scurries away. Bucky looks down at himself in disgust, what kind of human emotions was he resorting to, jealousy? He glares at you now and claws at the stupid chain around his neck.

When you return home, you squeak in response to seeing him lounging on your bed, legs crossed and arms behind his head. A pleasant yet devilish smile on his features. If he was stuck with you might as well have some fun.

“What are you doing here? Another demon escaped? Is Cerberus not guarding properly?” You set your bags down on the table.

He chuckles, “It's cute you think I have a pet dog.”

“What are you then? A cat person–creature?” You correct yourself, trying not to laugh at his exasperated look.

Blue eyes narrow and then rake over you, he did like the outfit. Your leggings tempt him to tear them away. One of his tendrils wraps around your ankle caressing it. You look down at it.

“Bucky, why are you here?”

The tendril moves higher, wrapping around your thigh.

“You didn’t thank me properly the other night.” He reprimands you, more tendrils superimpose the earlier one, you’re lifted off the floor and brought to him.

“I said thank you.” You tug at the hold on your hands.

“Hmm, I’d prefer if you thank me by getting on your knees.”

“I’m not–,”

“You know I can feel you because of these?” The chains appear then, then fade away, “Every little emotion that overtakes you,” He levitates to meet you above your bed, “Your joy, sadness, pain,” his eyes move to your bare forearm, “Even your arousal.”

Your chest tightens and your clit pulses at his words. He licks his bottom lip, teeth sinking into the pink flesh. Teasing you.

“Just as right this moment, she misses me doesn’t she?” Bucky chuckles as he feels your arousal permeate through his own body. He cups your mound, warmth seeping through your clothes, the tendrils make you grind against his palm.

You whimper, trying to close your legs.

“Admit it.” He urges, the tendrils tear apart your top, your bra tattered too, his tongue swirls against your nipple and you feel it circle your clit too, you cry out.

“Admit it, Doll.” He moves to the other, hardening it into a peak as well.

He rises above you, tendrils supporting you, your hands behind your back making you assume a kneeling position. You’re face to face with his cock, leaking precum. Your body thrums in remembrance.

“Admit it and you can have anything you want.” He cups your cheek, pushing away the stray locks.

“Want you.” You lean into his touch.

“Open your mouth, Doll.”

Your lips part, Bucky traces your bottom lip with his tip then sinks into your mouth inch by inch. You moan around him, his hand grips your head.

“Breathe, Doll. Taking me so well. So pretty with your mouth full.”

“You better keep that jaw slack, Doll. Gonna fuck your pretty face and then I’ll fill you up.” He promises, “Now,” He grunts as he thrusts and guides your mouth over his thick and veiny cock, “Remind me once we’re done to ask you about the little thought you had about my demon form.”

Your eyes widen, your body betrays you gathering more arousal over your folds. Bucky laughs. He guides your head over his cock, “Fucking velvet, so good. Fuck.”

He pulls out completely, “Oh, I’ll fuck you in my demon form too.” For a moment he morphs into his demon form, his cock thicker that your thumb and fingers wouldn’t meet wrapped around his cock.

You swallow at the size of him, “It won’t, it won’t, um, fit.” Your voice a rasp, his thumb traces your bottom lip.

“It will fit, you were made for me weren’t you?” He questions, ignoring as the chains glow.

You nod, the two of you are turned, he slides his cock over your folds, the more prominent veins rub over your clit and folds you jolt under him. He morphs into his human form, repeating the movement, drawing out the same response.

“Oh I’ve missed this pretty pussy wrapped all around me.” He taps your clit with his cock, making you shudder.

Your hands grip his arms, Bucky sinks into your waiting pussy, both of you moan in unison. Your walls pulse around him. The chain from around his neck fades away as he begins to thrust into you.

One leg around his waist the other thrown over his shoulder he sinks deeper, you cry out as each thrust is against your gspot, he builds your orgasm, his mouth around your nipple and one tendril tweaks the other. You feel his tongue flick your clit as well, all in tandem with his thrusts.

Your lips part in a plea of his name as pleasure floods your senses and you arch off of your bed, against Bucky. Your nails rake down his chest, marking him. He hisses.

Your walls spasm around him, coating him in your cum. He smirks as you thrash in his hold, he doesn’t allow you respite, repeating the same movements sending you barrelling into your second orgasm. Tears brim over your eyes, down your cheek to your neck.

Bucky lets go of your nipple, licking your sweet sweat-slicked skin and moaning at the taste of your pleasured tears.

“So good, Bucky–,” Your words cut off by a cry as you’re turned, now on top of him, his cock buried deeper, your arms reaching for his shoulders. Bucky watches as you meet his eyes with glazed over eyes, he cups your cheek. Leaning in he kisses you, bruising the tendrils and his grip on your hips guide you over him.

The tendrils tug and pull at your nipples, “One more sweet Doll, so fucking pretty, such a good girl aren’t you?”

You nod through the pleasured haze, “Your-yours,” You sob as his thrust is deep. Pleasure blooms like hellfire from your toes to your head.

“Mine, all mine.” He growls nipping at your flesh.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, Bucky–,” Your third orgasm shatters through you, “Fill me up!” You cry out.

Bucky gives a few more hard thrusts before he moans your name, his cum coats your walls, you slump against his broad chest, sniffling as the aftershocks run through you.

“You’re still milking me, Doll.” He groans as your pussy clamps around him, keeping him inside you. Taking all of his seed.

You only hum in response, your head nuzzled into his chest. Taking in his scent your hands tracing over him lazily admiring him.

“You’re pretty, both forms.” You whisper, he laughs.

“I belive I’ve fucked you stupid.” He declares making you frown. Pulling away to look at him.

The urge to quell your sadness overtakes him,

“Doll.” He warns. This, what the fuck was all this emotion?

“I said you’re pretty.” Your index finger presses to his chest.

“Find a better word than pretty.” He bargains.

“Can’t think too much cum.” You shrug, if he could act coy so could you.

“Is that right?” He raises a brow, “Too bad, I wanted to go a few more times.”

“Hmm, I do have to thank you properly.” You agree with him, “So are you a demon or a devil?” You ask, holding onto him as you’re turned again laying on your back.

“Pillowtalk? Buy a devil dinner first.” A tendril tugs on your nipple and you swat it lightly.

“A few minutes more.” You pet it, Bucky blinks at your actions.

“What? I don’t have any pets of my own.” You shrug the tendril wraps around your wrist, you smile.

Bucky shakes his head, after round two, he’d leave. Create distance again.

He could not have your emotions meddle into him.

He is ruthless, calculative.

He is cunning.

He takes what he wants; he cares for no one but himself.

A king of Hell.

When you fall asleep, he gently moves away from you.

The tendril you petted pulls the blanket on you better. Bucky stares at it, hands on his hips.

“What part about no attachments isn’t understood?” He whispers. The tendril turns towards you then back at Bucky. “We are not involving ourselves with a human.” He warns the tendril.

The tendril points to your bracelet. As if to say we’re already involved.

“Just, open the damn portal.” Bucky huffs, as he descends into his realm, he watches the steady rise and fall of your chest and the way your hand sleepily seeks him out, you shifting closer to his residual warmth.

Present.

Warmth floods you at the memories.

It had been three weeks since his last appearance. Your legs begin parting under the table, the familiar tendril stokes your inner thighs and the remaining drag your lehenga upwards.

You shut your thighs, pushing the fabric down.

That blue and red eyed menace.

“Still three chains?” Your grandmother tuts, your eyes snap to her.

“I, it’s just been five months—,” Shaiyana stutters, her blonde highlights flailing around her, “It takes time…”

‘Hmm, we’re down to one chain, Doll.’ Bucky’s deep baritone whispers against your earlobe; you feel his teeth graze your flesh. You shudder; he isn't actually here.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, this is one of his horny tricks.

“Stop it.” You whisper, his lips ghost over your neck.

‘I quite like the neckline of this outfit, your chest looks fantastic and this skirt, hmm, could bend you over and just—,’

“Bucky.” You chastise, reaching for your bracelet, the thin gold chain appears and you yank it.

Bucky’s arm tugs him sideward on his throne. He grasps his end of the shared chain and yanks it as well.

His court of demons stare at him. Silence takes over the court.

“What are all of you looking at? What's next I don’t have all the time in the underworld.” He roars at them.

They look at him and then scutter about before resuming the arguments.

As a result you knock into the waiter putting the entrées onto your cousin brother’s plate, “I’m so sorry!”

“I’m not.” Your cousin beams as more food is dropped onto his plate, “These are my fave chicken tikkas.”

‘Where is my apology Doll?’ Bucky asks, you swat at the tendril on your knee.

“Y/N?” Your aunt looks at you with a raised brow.

“Oh just a fly.” You swat the other tendril you feel. You glare at the tendrils, they know you mean no harm.

‘You’re being a brat.’

“You were supposed to be here, we had a deal.” You remind him, trying not to let the disappointment get the best of you.

‘First explain about the chains. Also, I’m busy ruling.’

“You need to be here to ask grandma about it. And stop trying to demon mode sex if you’re so busy ruling a part of hell.” You grit out in a whisper.

“Who needs to ask grandma what?” Your grandma eyes you from where she stands coming to greet everyone at the table.

“Um just about the ch-,” Bucky’s ring circles your clit, “ah-chains.” You grip the seat of your chair cheeks heating. Oh this little devil of yours is going to pay.

‘It's cute how you think you can get revenge on me. You're getting tied up today, Doll.’ Bucky warns, all traces of him disappearing.

“Well?” Your grandmother asks yet again.

“Why do the chains—,”

“Grandma, if you could just see how good we are together.” The apple of everyone’s eye pleads cutting you off.

Your cousin brother mimics her whining, the cousins at your table suppress a laugh but giggles escape.

Your aunt shushes everyone.

“The chains are important dear. They tell everything.” She pats her head and then turns her eyes to the empty seat next to you. You wince. Her questioning came from her astute intuition.

“He’s preoccupied.” You answer, “Meetings, on his way though.”

She eyes you warily but moves on from your table.

You slump in your seat. You meet the gaze of your parents and they are disappointed. For an open minded desi family they are disappointed in the lack of presence of your love life compared to your cousins.

What would you tell them?

A devil creeps into your bed every few weeks?

That you wish he would stay?

That you googled how Persephone went to Hades just to know if it's viable for you to move there to hell?

You’ve laughed to the point of tears over this situation. You could only hope the lesser number of chains meant he would be freed.

Your theories of the chains fading because of sex was disproved earlier, the second only faded when he had appeared at the club your friends had dragged you to, where you got sick, the nausea from those weird mocktails and greasy food hadn’t agreed with your system.

All you remember from that night was Bucky carrying, well flying you home after your friends had disappeared with their various hook ups. You had woken up to him scowling at you all while thrusting tylenol, water and then your favourite food in your hands.

You didn’t think a devil would or could lecture you about parties, but there he was, eyes flickering between red and blue. Voice switching between demonic and human. The tendril you had befriended first had wrapped itself around your wrist offering comfort and Bucky glared at it.

“You cannot possibly think she isn’t to be told off.” He stares at the tendril.

It raises its body then lowers it like a shrug.

“Oh, alright, hm what if she got hurt?” He pauses then, masking his worry with ire.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry.” You look up at him, doe eyed. He inhales then exhales. The worrisome thought crosses his mind yet again. You feel his worry in your chest.

“I was not worried.” Bucky yells, voice fully demonic, you look away from him. His gaze softens.

He cups both your cheeks, “You need to be careful. We don’t know what these chains mean, I try to keep myself out of trouble too. You need to do the same, Doll.” It was the first time he used your nickname without a sexual context.

You both had watched then how the chain undid itself from around his right wrist.

Something in Bucky’s chest cracks, he swiftly ignores it. The little pang of worry that he may lose you sooner rather than later.

The hall doors swing open murmurs break out in their presence. You’re pulled out of your thoughts. You watch as Bucky walks in, crossing the threshold that held sacred verses over it with ease. Your jaw drops at his navy traditional sherwani attire. There are intricate velvet patterns on it that give it a raised emboss look. He dressed like that one Indian Film actor did in that one movie that you can no longer recall. All other images gone from your brain apart from this one.

The women of the family all turn to look at you. The chain speaking for Bucky and you before you could. Your grandmother takes your name as she eyes Bucky. He smiles at her. You stand walking to meet him halfway.

“I apologise for the delay, Grandma.” He takes her hand kissing the back of it. Her eyes narrow between the two of you.

“One chain?” She questions.

“We wanted to ask you about that–,”

“After the festivities. Enjoy the dinner, James.” She cuts you off then moves to her original table.

He raises a brow but only gives her a half smile. Bucky turns to you.

“You like?” He winks, admiring the way your cheeks heat.

“I-, you came?” You ask, Bucky hides his own mirth at the happiness blooming in your heart replacing the earlier loneliness he could feel.

Bucky wants to say something else, you feel his hesitation, “We had a deal.” He runs his hand through his hair, his ring gleaming in the light.

“Let's meet your parents.” He suggests taking your hand and leading you to their table.

The lies flow easily from Bucky’s mouth.

Who is he?

How the two of you met?

What does he do with his free time?

He even has pictures of his white fluffy cat on his phone– Alpine. You raise a brow.

“Cats are nice, misunderstood but nice.” He whispers, his lips brush over your earlobe, “You better not forget what your punishment is,” One arm moves to rest across your chair, his other rests on your thigh. The tendrils begin to work their way up again.

Bucky’s face is inches from yours, you look up at him. He smiles at you.

“Smile.” He says, you blink, “Smile, Doll.” The tendrils tickle your side, you giggle and the flash occurs. Bucky’s smile widens, taking over his face at the sound of your laugh.

Your younger cousin hands you the polaroid, it's still developing as you lean closer to him.

Your breath ghosts over his neck, “My little devil,” you giggle yet again as you feel his irritation,

“I’ll show you what’s little–,” He takes a sharp breath when you tug his earlobe and kiss the spot on his neck you had discovered the third time he slept with you.

“As I was asking, will you be in the picture?”

He sighs exasperated, your questions about all of this ranged from actually fun to answer to can he shut you up in creative ways using his mouth, fingers or cock?

“I’m not a vampire.” He shakes his head, the arm resting across your back softly traces over your arm.

“Hmm, cranky like a hungry one.” You tease.

“Well I haven’t eaten my favourite meal in days. I could eat and no one would know, well if you keep quiet, Doll.” His eyes switch colours, darkened with red rims.

Your brows furrow as you spot a bead of sweat. Before you can stop yourself you wipe it from his temple.

“This sherwani is warmer than I anticipated.” He brushes it off, the waiters place food on Bucky’s plate as well. You don’t look away from him.

“Is it the scriptures?” You ask, he chews the kebab then nods, eyes shifting to the books kept.

“You all prayed before this, correct?”

“I’m sorry, Bucky I didn’t realise it would be more than what is comfortable, do you want to go outside?” Your hand is placed on his chest.

He licks his lips, “Let me eat my dessert, it's a sin.”

“Are you sure it will help?” Were you actually considering this?

“Hey man, it's so nice of you to come down, she was getting all lonely staring at her phone.” Your cousin interrupts the conversation.

“Ah yes I was texting her minute by minute.” Bucky nods, you want to laugh.

You didn’t even have his number.

“So what do you do?” Bucky questions your cousin. Your mind blanks momentarily as you feel Bucky’s lips ghost along your inner thigh.

Your cousin replies but you hear nothing, you feel Bucky’s tongue delve through your folds. You grip his hand resting on your thigh.

‘Not a sound, Doll.’ He warns, ‘So fucking sweet. All for me.’

His moan reverberates against your core, you bite your lip as you feel his fingers delve into you. Thick digits curving deliciously. You reach for the glass of water, your fingers clamp around it as you feel yourself stretch around his ring.

‘Could stay between your legs for aeons, Doll.’

You feel him suck on your clit and you whimper, Bucky next to you presses his lips to your temple. Grounding you.

‘You love it when I get like this, taking you apart then putting you back together.’

His movements gain pace, sweet oblivion within reach and he stops. Your lehenga righted and he kissed your temple again.

“Seems like we aren’t the only sinners here.” He murmurs. You look at Shaiyana and her partner. The chains are down to two from three. Her hair dishevelled.

You glare at Bucky.

“Oh, no this is part of the punishment.” He grins.

“Bucky.” You all but whine.

“Needy little Doll aren’t you?” He whispers, “For each orgasm I deny I’m going to reward you.”

Around you both dinner continues, Bucky teases you relentlessly during the entire time. Thoroughly enjoying the way you squirm for him. Turning into his needy little mess. His greedy little, Doll.

The fifth time he edges you. You can’t take it, you know distance doesn’t matter he can always use his powers on you. You still excuse yourself from the table, heading to the washrooms. Your cheeks warm, flushed because of Bucky. You fix your dupatta’s draping in the mirror.

“You have got some nerve.” Shaiyana observes exiting the stall.

You raise a brow.

“Oh come on your boyfriend suddenly appears just as I debut mine and one chain? How many times has he fucked you?” She turns to face you.

“They don’t disappear just because of sex…” you trail off.

“Oh please, Grandma’s rules clearly state about bonds and binds. How they forge forever and how they break.” She scoffs, flipping her hair back.

“Shaiyana, how does the bond break?” You swallow, wondering if it is what you wanted, to lose Bucky.

She looks back in the mirror meeting your gaze through it, “Finally you’re away from, Sire.”

Her eyes turn fully black, no whites nor her dark brown irises visible. You take a step back.

“You have him distracted. We don’t like distractions. The only thing good about you? Your mortality.” Her voice haunts you, gooseflesh raising across your skin.

“He won’t appreciate you hurting me.” You warn, moving towards the bathroom door. You try not to let fear consume you.

You try to reach out to Bucky through the bond. You feel nothing.

Shaiyana cackles, “Aw, he isn’t your knight in shining armour.” She steps closer towards you. Her voice is akin to chalk screeching against a board.

You look at the bracelet, the chain does not manifest. You look back at your cousin just as her hand comes in contact with your cheekbone. The force of it pushing you against the granite counter, you groan as the corner hurts you.

Bucky’s brows furrow, you aren’t back yet. The side of the bond that allowed him to reach you was subdued. He walks up to your Grandma, she turns sensing him.

“I see your curiosity cannot wait.” She smiles standing up, he offers her his hand. She grasps it, leading her towards the balcony. His gaze everywhere trying to find you.

The tendrils move along the edges of the room, taking over the venue to find you.

“How did you know my name?” He questions her, there is a thrum around her, iridescent old magick exuding from her aura.

“I know quite a bit about the demons and Kings of Hell, boy. What I should be asking is what made you choose a mortal?” She raises a brow at him.

“I didn’t know about the curse until the binds—,”

“You know what I mean.” She gives him a knowing look, “You do know before the binding you were asked if you will explore this with her.”

Bucky looks out onto the city lights. He remembers the ancient words, he remembers his affirmative reply. He wanted you. Then reality seeped in. Bound to a mortal? Bonds that work across realms? Forcing himself to not seek you out for two months.

He looks back at her, “She was not supposed to become more.”

“And now? You want to break it?” Your grandmother watches him.

“What do the chains mean?” He questions.

Unease trickles across him as the tendrils return with no news. He looks at her. She senses his emotions.

“I have to find her.” Bucky returns to the hall then out into the hall.

He frowns, there was a corridor to the bathroom here why can’t he see it?

“You’re going to break the spell you have on our Master.” Shaiyana’s nails dig into your cheeks. The water overflowing from the taps, the cold seeps into your back. She was slamming your hand into the floor trying to get the bracelet to break.

There was something possessing her. You had to do something.

“I didn’t!” You cry out in pain that breaks across your knuckle. Moving up your palm.

“He keeps visiting this realm. He tortured demons over you. His own kind.” Shaiyana snarls and you feel the sting of a slap.

“He wants the bond gone.” She tells you. Your tear stained eyes meet her obsidian ones.

“How to break it?” You ask, “Did he send you?”

She smiles, “He did, oh you fell in love? You fell for the King? You, a mere mortal? Be worthy of him?” She laughs.

In her distraction you begin to pray, she takes her hands away as if burned by your skin. You push yourself away, slipping as you make your way to the door. Shit, shit, shit.

Shaiyana stands again, you pray again, slamming your hands against the door hoping someone would hear you. “Bucky!”

“Stop calling his name!” She warns moving closer to you.

Bucky hears a thump, he turns to the seemingly placed wall. He places his palm on it. It scalds his flesh. His eyes turn red. A seal placed upon the door. He presses both palms to the wall.

It begins to give way, he hears your pained cry of his name.

“Doll!” He calls out.

“Bucky!”

The tendrils slither through the cracks, the seal was drawn outside the door. As the tendrils latch onto it, “Get away from the door!” He yells. You step back, pausing the prayer. Shaiyana yanks you back by your hair.

The door burns as Bucky steps through it. The flames disappear, behind him the cream coloured door now blackened. He stands there anger coursing through his veins. The image of him right now exudes power.

You whimper as Shaiyana smiles up at him, her nails digging into your scalp, “I did as you said, Sire. The way to break the bond? Break the bracelet or kill her.” She adds.

“When did I place such a command? Are you trying to overthrow me?” He raises a brow, “Release her.”

“Bucky break it–,”

“No.” He cuts you off.

“I fear it is worse than we thought. He cares for her.” She taps her foot thrice.

A portal opens beneath the three of you. Bucky sends the tendrils forth to break your fall. He switches to his demon form. The tendrils pull you to him. Tucking you to his side. He snarls at the demons gathered around. Shaiyana lays on the ground, unconscious.

“You have to make a choice, Sire. A bewitching mortal or your duty as King.” The demon that was possessing her procures a blade. Your eyes widen.

Your hand grips his forearm, he looks down at you, “They would kill you?”

“They wouldn’t dare.” He looks back at the demons.

“Bucky, let me break it.” You plead.

“Why? Do you not want–,”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t.”

The glimmer of the blade shines through the fires burning, you do the most mortal thing Bucky expects. Covering his form with yours, “Are you insane?! I need you alive!” He yells.

The blade is stopped by his hand. It burns his flesh.

“What is this sacrificial human bullshit? You do not die for love! Be selfish! Stay alive damn it.” He yells, throwing the blade back at the demon. His wings expand, covering the two of you and Shaiyana from the blades and hexes that are sent your way.

“But–,”

“No. I don’t want the bond to break. Do you know I was asked before the binding. If I wanted this? I agreed.”

“Then why were you gone?” You demand, the tendrils begin to branch out.

He raises the cracks in the ground. The demons around you stop their attack. All pausing because of the sigils made into the ground.

“I wanted you, Doll. Do you see this? The insubordination?” He glares at all the demons, he turns back to his human form.

“I kept a watch on you. I wanted to know what the chains meant. I dived into research but this is heirloom magick passed down between generations. Not kept in any scripture.” He explains, you blink several times.

“Wait, you said love?” You ask him, he stares at you.

“Just, just sit here and do not look at or touch anything.” He makes you sit on his throne before stepping away.

“Bucky?”

He turns back to look at you.

“I don’t want the bond to break too.” Your words make him smile, the familiar tendril wraps around your wrist.

The gold chain around his left wrist disappears, in its place a gold chain bracelet remains.

The two of you share a look, the bond thrums steadily between the two of you.

“Now let me go take care of these fools before I return to have you ride me while I sit on my throne.” He winks at you before turning yet again.

Your grandmother looks at Shaiyana asleep on the couch of the hotel lobby, then you, then Bucky.

“She was possessed?” Your Grandma questions.

Your devil and you nod.

“She was taken to hell?”

The devil and his human nod again.

“You both verbalised not wanting the bond to break?”

You both nod yet again.

“I see. Well I’m not going to deal with the six month crap Demeter had imposed.” She stares at Bucky.

“She’s free to travel realms.” He answers, thumb stroking over your hand.

“Hmm, trust the one who loves horror to snag a devil.” She teases you, “Alright now head on home. I’ll get someone to help with her.” Your grandmother heads back to the banquet hall.

Bucky chuckles, lips pressing to your temple. You close your eyes, when you open them you’re back in the throne room.

“I have to reward you.” He says sitting down on his throne, the tendrils help your lehenga bunch around you as you straddle him, his length pressing to your core.

“That you do, my little devil. My King.” You nip at the skin of his neck, he growls hands gripping your hips.

“Doll.” He warns, moaning as you grind against him.

“Yes?” You continue tracing your lips over his flesh leaving your own little marks upon him.

“After what you achieved today, exposing those who stand against me? You’re going to make a fine Queen and your first order of business?” He lifts you up, clothes melting away from your bodies, slowly he guides you down on his hard length. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you moan against his lips.

“You are to scream your King’s name, my Queen.” He tugs on your bottom lip before kissing you deeply, as he pulls away, “Did you know ancient heirloom magick is one of the strongest forms?”

You feel so full, the tendrils tease your nipples, “Bucky–,”

“I sensed the magick in you the minute I saw you.” He raises you and has you slide down on him again, controlling your movements.

You meet his eyes, they have red rims around the darkening irises. Bucky smirks, as he brings you closer to him. Your clit grinding against his trail of hair. You moan, he grasps your chin.

“You and your magick are both to be mine.” He kisses you then as you feel yourself fall backward, landing on a soft mattress, Bucky’s hands move over your skin. From your hips over your sides one hand remains around your neck, the gold chain of his bracelet gleams.

“All of it was for the magick?” You rasp, he studies your features.

He thrusts into you, your walls quiver around him, “Always so fucking beautiful and tight, such a good girl for me.”

Your nails leave little indents into his biceps, “James, answer–Oh–,”

You moan as his tip brushes over the spot that sparks the pleasured waves to thrum through you.

“All of it,” He thrusts into you deeper, rutting against you, your legs wrapping around him tighter, “Was for you, Doll.”

AN: i never thought i'd get to writing a part 2 for this one shot but here we are, i'm quite proud of it and i hope you enjoyed reading!

Permanent Bucky Taglist: @slutforsexyseabass

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