#painted up like a fucking crime scene
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tbh I'm scared of ever being in a relationship again bc I don't think I'd find anyone else who'd actually be okay with the amount of sh scars I have 👍
#like from my chest & shoulders down to my ankles#there are these brutal scars just EVERYWHERE#smaller ones from when i was 15-16#bigger ones all across my legs from when i was 18#new raised and/or reddened scars on my arms that have shrunk due to the surrounding scar tissue#sui scars in multiple places#i look brutal#painted up like a fucking crime scene#i dont think anyone can love that haha#a
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Love Me Through Every Lifetime
love and deepspace: rafayel x fem!reader
tags: smut, pwp, sub!raf but that quickly changes, monsterfucking to keep it simple
synopsis: For a Lemurian, there is no greater curse than love. And Rafayel is beginning to understand its dangers, especially when the full moon turns him half-delirious and desperate to claim you as his— in every way that matters.
word count: 6.9k
link to ao3
You think Rafayel might be dying.
For two days, you have not heard a word from your overdemanding employer slash lover. Waking up around noon without a barrage of texts calling you a “lazy hibernating bear” or “neglectful partner” was unusual enough, but an irregularity you chalked up to Rafayel’s upcoming gallery exhibition.
But by nightfall, you were confused, and by the next morning, cold dread had begun to creep in. He has still not sent a single text, not a call, nothing. Absolute silence.
Despite agreeing to attend sparring practice tonight with Xavier, you rush out from HQ as soon as your squadron is dismissed from a mission briefing– you’ll make it up to him later. For now, you keep your Hunter’s suit equipped and reload both your pistols, tucking them into their holsters as you rev the engine of your motorcycle.
Energy fluctuations always escalate before a full moon, and between the increase in Wanderers and the growing bounty on Rafayel's head, you feel your panic rise, the hollow ring of the moon looming overhead as you speed to Rafayel’s studio, praying that nothing has happened.
Rafayel is a mess.
It’s been centuries since he has last felt this insatiable heat, but to fall prey to his instincts was perhaps inevitable. After all, he’s finally found you again.
Not only that, but he got too close once more, pulling you in from a stranger to an unwilling bodyguard to a friend and lover. Rafayel supposes he can only blame himself. His Lemurian biology has always keened in your presence, and he sealed his own fate when he finally coaxed you into bed with him. But he doesn't regret it— not for a moment.
However, it has been weeks since the first time the two of you had sex, and yet he still can do nothing but taste you against his tongue, nothing but imagine your face every time you unraveled against him, nothing but want you atop him, beneath him, beside him, so fucking bad he can’t think of anything else.
He had reunited with his mate.
Of course his instincts now want to make you his, forever.
Rafayel curses, his clothes chafing against his sensitive skin, making him burn under each suffocating layer before he hurriedly begins to rip and unbuckle each one. He wants you beside him, your touch on him. He wants so badly it burns.
With a groan, he collapses onto the coach, face buried in his hands as he genuinely worries he might die from the heat and desire pooling in his stomach and coiling through every nerve. Your name lights up on his phone, the light buzzing adding to the countless missed texts and calls on the screen. Rafayel spares a glance at his phone before chucking it across the studio. He swears he might come from the thought of you alone.
On cue, the studio’s front door opens with a bang.
Disregarding protocall entirely you charge in, swinging both your guns around as you shout. “Rafayel! Yell if you’re trapped or injured, or... or just say something!”
There’s a crash behind you, and you nearly shoot, lowering the pistol only when you see a seagull that must have snuck in, topple over another vase, and flee through the wide open windows.
No Wanderers. Not yet.
The studio is in ruins. Its usual “organized disorganization” would be considered neat in comparison. It looks like a thief ransacked the place, and a hurricane followed suit. Scraps of clothing and swirls of paint splatter across the floor like blood at a crime scene.
Alarm creeps further into your voice, and you call for him again. “Rafayel! Please say something, anything, just let me know you’re okay.” You creep along the edge of the wall, turning into the main room, expecting the worst: to see him bleeding out, or knocked unconscious, or–
Lying on the couch.
He’s lying on the couch.
Sprawled against the cushions, you’re nearly convinced Rafayel is sleeping until you notice the audible rasp in his breathing, skin flushed red in a picture of debauchery. You felt your breath hitch as you scanned him up and down to check for injuries, his billowing shirt splayed open with all the buttons ripped off, and trousers shunted down at the front, clinging to the jut of his hips, trail of dark purple hair pathing the way to his hand, which was clawing against his thigh.
You force yourself to look away, a tremor in your voice. “Are you injured? Do you need a doctor?”
“Stop talking.” Rafayel groans in pain and you holster your firearms before rushing to his side, kneeling by the couch as he flinches away from your body, his hand pressed to the lower half of his face. Your knees brush something rough and you look down, realizing the floorboards have been burned.
“Your Evol,” panic returns and you reach out to check Rafayel’s temperature. “It’s acting up. We need to get you to a doctor.” Your fingers hardly brush against his forehead before they’re yanked away. Rafayel springs up, clutching your wrist so tightly you flinch, putting as much distance between the two of you as he could without releasing his hold.
“No.” His chest is heaving, and you hardly hear him over the hand he still has over his mouth, muffling his words. “You need to leave. Right now.”
“You’re the one holding me.”
Bewildered, Rafayel looks at his arm as though unaware of his own moments. But he makes no move to unhand you.
Slowly, you lean closer, letting your free hand rest against Rafayel’s cheek, gasping at how hot he is to the touch. Fuck. Your hand is so deliciously cool against his skin that Rafayel can’t help but lean his entire weight against it, nudging his face into your palm as a strangled whine hisses through his teeth. A tug, and you gasp as you’re pulled down, tripping into Rafayel’s lap as his lips graze the sensitive skin of your inner wrists.
The position is beyond compromising, especially considering Rafayel’s state of undress. Stumbling forward, your free hand pushes against his bare chest, and you try to free yourself, willing your eyes not to travel any lower to his unbuckled trousers. “Rafayel…”
“Don’t,” he curses into your palm, inhaling deeply before biting. He moans deep in his chest, licking up your fingers, sucking gently at each digit as you feel your body flush. “Don’t say my name like that. Don’t move or breathe in my direction either.”
He continues suckling against your fingers, and you would have snapped at his ridiculous demands if it wasn’t for the fact that you doubt you could form any words at all right now, dumbfounded as a dull heat throbs against your lower stomach.
As if noticing, Rafayel’s mouth opens with a deep breath, cursing as he goes back to nipping and kissing your wrist. “Fuck,” he laughs, delirious, “I can smell how turned on you are. You– you’re temptation itself.”
Rafayel places another kiss to your palm before yanking your arm behind him, and you gasp when his head tilts, lips grazing the column of your throat, words slurred and raspy. His breath is scalding, every gentle brush of his lips against your skin sending your nerves on edge.
You feel dizzy.
"Don't talk. Don't even move. Just stay- hah - stay with me."
His hands, both his free one and the one pinning your wrists, roam, caressing you as he presses wet kisses along your throat. It is all you can do to hold still, but when he sucks harshly against the pulse point at the base of your neck, a moan slips through your clenched teeth. You try to squirm out of his grip, but the action only grinds against Rafayel's crotch, and you tense up immediately at the very obvious bulge, hot, sticky fluid already soaking through his trousers.
The artist nearly sobs at the mere friction, expression a mixture of pained and pleading as he begs up at you. "Stay. Please."
He doesn't mean just for the moment. He means always, for eternity, for every lifetime he’s cursed to live. He’s never letting you go again.
And you can do nothing but nod.
You want to help him, really, in every way, endlessly, but taking advantage of him while he’s so helpless and desperate feels wrong. Worry sets in, and you cup his jaw, Rafayel keening into your touch with a whine. “Does this have something to do with Lemuria?”
Rafayel swallows, his hands sliding to your waist and gripping tightly, as though he expects you to disappear at any moment. You can see the indecision on his face, the conflict as he fights the desire clouding his brain. He opens his mouth, and closes it again. He tries a second time and succeeds, the words sounding painful and forced even as your thumbs trace his face, caressing every edge and curve.
"I never imagined this would happen. You’re not- I mean, it only ever happens to Lemurian mates.” He’s shaking beneath you, eyes going unfocused as your touch ventures lower, down his collarbones, squeezing at his chest, tracing his abs, and further still. “I knew you were special, my muse, but not special enough to drive me into heat.”
He’s joking, teasing you, but you can’t help the flush of arousal at that statement. Your brows furrow, the gears in your head turning. You try not to sound too excited, the thought of Rafayel in heat is enough to distract you from the urgency of the situation. Again, Rafayel notices, inhaling your scent as something trills deep within his chest.
"If you need my help, then you have it. Any way you want.”
Your fingers slide against the hem of his trousers, and Rafayel's breath hitches. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips- you swear his nails are sharper than normal- and a sharp thrill shoots through you at the feeling. You can practically see his control slipping away, the last threads fraying, and he bites into your shoulder with a moan, fangs nipping through the fabric of your clothes.
Rafayel releases the bite and looks at you, expression wild. His pupils are dilated and his tongue licks the corner of his mouth, eyes darting back and forth between yours and the mark he's made.
"If you say things like that," he warns, the hand around your wrist tightening. You can't help the soft gasp that escapes, and Rafayel growls at the noise. He lurches forward and kisses you hard, all tongue and teeth.
"I-I can't." Rafayel pants. The expression he wears is so unlike him that it's shocking, and you feel your core clench. He's completely unraveled, hair disheveled, clothes torn and askew.
And, fuck, you swear some of his pheromones must have infected you too, because you can’t stop staring at him. He’s gorgeous- more than usual- a furious pink blush from the tips of his ears down to the mole on his chest you can’t stop kissing, the color a beautiful contrast to his dark locks, now wet with sweat and stuck to his forehead in thick curls.
His eyes never leave yours, not even as they roll in pleasure, their sunset hues dimmed with an animalistic sort of hunger that makes you shiver with every forceful roll of his hips against yours. It’s punishing, brutal, and a violent contrast to the tears brimming in his eyes from the mere friction alone.
You want to ruin him. You plan on it.
"I won't be able to stop," Rafayel whines, and you can't stop your hips from rutting back against him, the sensation pulling a choked sob from his throat. You swallow the noise with a kiss, the motion so gentle compared to his desperate, frenzied fucking. It's all he can do not to break, his control already slipping through his fingers like sand. “I won’t want to, I’ll fuck you until you can think of nothing else, just me. Only me.”
The idea sends a sharp spike of heat through your core. His desperation and need for you is intoxicating, and you know his warning is sincere. He won’t let you go until you tell him to. You should be scared.
But all you can think of is his voice in your ear, begging and crying.
Your voice is hardly a whisper, "What do you need from me, Rafayel?"
"To breed you. To have my pretty human filled with my brood, to fuck you full."
You moan at the vulgarity of his words, and the sound goes straight to his cock. Rafayel groans as he fucks harder against your thigh, his own breath ragged as he tucks his forehead against your neck.
But the mention of his brood has you nervous, and you gasp the question between moans at Rafayel’s insistent grinding. You don’t know much about Lermurian biology, but between the myths and Rafayel’s teasing, you have a vague idea that makes your head spin.
“How many, ah-” fucking hell, the word seems weird to think of, let alone say, “eggs do Lemurians usually have?”
Rafayel laughs at that, and you nearly sigh at the sound, the familiarity comforting. It isn't mocking, more surprised, and the sound is music to your ears, especially considering the delirious state he was in.
"Don't be silly, love," he teases, but his hips don't stop moving, undoubtedly soaking through his trousers and your pants. "We're not animals, we're civilized creatures."
His tone shifts, the light-hearted nature vanishing in an instant. The words are hissed against the shell of your ear, and a violent shiver runs through you. "I'll fill you to the brim, make sure you never forget who you belong to. Make sure every creature knows whose bitch you are. You're mine, and I'll mark you however I wish, however many times I must, until the message is clear."
A sharp pinch on the shell of your ear makes you gasp. He bit you. The pain is gone as fast as it came, replaced with a wet tongue and warm lips. A whimper slips out, and you feel his cock twitch at the sound.
"So, my lovely mate, since you’re so eager, how many eggs do you want?"
He’s mocking you. Brat.
Blushing furiously, you shove him down, pushing yourself up to a kneeling position as Rafayel whines at the loss of contact, hips bucking into empty air. You can feel his cock throbbing against your leg, and his hand reaches out for you, fingers barely grazing your skin before you roughly push him back down.
You give him a firm look, and the sight of your stern gaze sends a fresh wave of arousal through his body, his cock jerking as Rafayel keens and throws his head back, unable to meet your eyes. He’s trembling, and the hand you pinned down flies to his face, covering his eyes as you scowl down at him.
“Alright, alright, ‘m sorry.” He laughs, trailing into a moan as you finally sit back against him. “It depends, our biology doesn’t favor us. We mate once, and despite going into these seasons our clutches only take once a decade or so. Per season is variable too, anywhere from five to a dozen.”
Up to a dozen.
A dozen eggs.
In you.
Fuck.
You must have made a sound because Rafayel looks at you with a cheeky grin, and a mischievous glint in his eye. He can smell the want on you, the scent is driving him wild, and you know it. But the realization of your want sends another ripple of desire through him, and Rafayel grunts in pain, writing against the cushions.
"Fuck, need you, need you so, so bad." He growls, grabbing your wrist and yanking you towards him. You lose balance, and your knees slide against the couch, falling over him with a gasp. "Need you. Need you now, please, need my mate, need you to be mine–"
Greedy.
You scoff before his mouth is on yours again, licking up into you. He's insatiable, and as he presses closer you swear his teeth feel sharper, catching against your bottom lip.
“Poor baby,” you coo, palming Rafayel through his boxers as his eyes roll back at your touch. His mouth opens in a gasp, and you can see the hint of fangs, the razor edge of his canines. They glint in dusk’s low light, and you lean closer to get a better look. Rafayel can sense your interest, and his head lolls to the side, giving you a better view as he bares his throat, a dull blue shimmer now coating the sides, pulsing in time to his racing heart.
It's a vulnerable position, one he would never allow anyone else to see him in. But you are not anyone, and he trusts you enough to offer himself up, trusts you to protect him as he succumbs to his desires, even if you’re the one that holds the knife.
And you reward him for his loyalty.
"Mmm, such a good boy, showing your mate what a pretty mess you are." Your voice is sweet and praising, and you feel Rafayel shudder violently, biting his lip deep enough to draw blood to stop the high-pitched moan that rips from his chest. Then he stills. “Did you just…”
“Don’t tease,” he bucks into your palm, impossibly hard still in a way that is utterly nonhuman. “Just once more, make me come once more, and I’ll fuck you properly. Promise.”
You hardly need to be told twice.
Slipping off the side of the couch, you coax Rafayel to turn with you, settling between his legs as you work at his belt. “Then let me taste you.”
His thigh jumps at that, and Rafayel throws his head back against the wall with a dull thud, his hand already lacing into your hair.
For all that talk his cock was still surprisingly human-like. It doesn’t look too different from before, still annoyingly well-endowed and leaking violently against the angry purple-red tip. But this time there’s a faint pale blue discoloration around the base, with a shine you can’t tell is a result of his Lemurian lineage or due to the copious amounts of precum he’s dripping down to his thighs.
Gods, he’s messy.
There’s nothing sweet in the way you fuck him within your mouth, tongue trailing a prominent vein against the underside of his dick until you reach the tip once again. Rafayel goads you forward by pushing and pulling your head with his hand and his almost obnoxiously loud moans and mumbles of praise.
Both of your hands join, one stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and the other massaging against his balls, each one heavy and tense, waiting to spill into something other than your mouth. The slick slap of skin on skin spurs you on, and Rafayel’s hand rips through the fabric on the couch with sharp nails you now feel digging into the back of your neck.
“I’m almost–” He warns, and you nearly choke in surprise at the feeling of something swell against the base of his cock, a firm, round intrusion that has Rafayel sobbing. Then, he comes, overflowing down your throat as you force yourself off, thick ropes of cum covering your face and shooting over his bare abdomen and chest, and then more. And more.
All of that, and he’s still hard.
Despite the strands of cum dripping between your hands, chin, and his cock, Rafayel still feels no relief. The bulge against the base of his cock inflates more, and he trills, a deep sound akin to whalesong deep in his chest.
“It’s no use, I need…” A breathy moan, and Rafayel yanks you both to your feet. “Ocean. Now.”
His words devolve into incoherent rambling, and you nod, dragged alongside him as he clings to you like a child, his weight nearly toppling you both over as his knees buckle. You catch him, but his strength is inhuman, and even with the help of your Evol he could crush you.
You are his.
You will finally be his.
Rafayel’s grip around you tightens, and a possessive growl rumbles against his throat. He needs to feel you against him, inside him, his instincts screaming to mark you in every way conceivable.
The studio's back doors lead directly to the beach, and the summer night breeze hits Rafayel with a delicious chill against his burning skin. The air tastes of salt and brine, the scent familiar and comforting— the smell of home.
The ocean is as gorgeous as it is terrifying in the midst of night. The roar of the waves and the silver reflection of the full moon are the only things illuminating the vast darkness before you. Yet Rafayel shows no such fear as he tugs you further along the beach, kissing and nipping and groping at you endlessly as he strips you of your clothes, his own following suit.
"You'll regret leaving me after this," Rafayel whispers, pressing his lips to the pulse of your neck.
"Silly fishie," you murmur, pulling him closer. “Why would I ever leave you?"
He sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. You figured he was simply being overdramatic yet again, but Rafayel refuses to meet your eyes, smiling in a way you know all too well, lopsided and teasing and empty. “Of course, silly me. Why would anyone ever leave me?” He huffs, running a hand through his hair, preening. ”I’m perfect.”
You scoff, shoving him gently as you roll your eyes. Of course he would be cocky right before getting his brains fucked out.
"Well, you are quite pretty for a fish."
Rafayel laughs, deep and rumbling in his chest, a contagious sound that has you laughing too, until the cold spray of the ocean hits you with a light mist. The crest of another wave surges against you, curling around your ankles and knees as the tide ebbs and flows. Rafayel spares you one last teasing grin before running further into the ocean, disappearing beneath the waves without so much as a splash.
You can’t help but feel nervous as you watch and listen for a break in the sea, knowing when your lover emerges, he will be a wholly different being than the one you’ve memorized every curve and edge of.
But you want him to know you’ll accept him regardless. No matter how scaled or fish-like or ugly he may become.
As if testing you, your mind conjures up a horrid fish-monster complete with swampy hair and a shark’s face before you chase the thought away, shaking your head violently. There’s no way a man as gorgeous as Rafayel could turn into a creature so hideous… Right?
Regardless, you’d help him. Regardless, you’d stay with him, love him.
This you vowed.
And the ocean listens, seafoam curling around your ankles before it retreats, carrying with it your promise into its depths. Keeping it.
A splash breaks the surface of the waves and you squint into the darkness. Sure enough, you see the outline of a man, cutting through the waves with a dull glow, as if parting the waters themselves.
“Surely you don’t plan on making me wait any longer.” Rafayel complains, “Join me, my muse. My heart.”
His voice coaxes you forward, and like a sailor drawn by a siren’s call, you walk further into the ocean. Each soft wave crashes higher against your legs until the salty spray hits the bare skin of your stomach, and you flinch from the chill against every sensitive part of your body.
Finally, he’s close enough for you to see everything in the evening glow, and your breath leaves you entirely.
He’s still your Rafayel, the mischievous glow against his duochromatic eyes reminds you of that much, but there’s a vibrant blue glow to them, a clearer blue than the ocean itself, one that freckles down his neck and body with bioluminescent markings. There’s also that familiar pointed smile he still wears, only, at the upper corner you catch the glint of fangs. Even longer than before. A splash, and your attention snaps behind him, where an enormous tail flicks impatiently out of the waves, a pale blue rippling into the color of the ocean’s depths, complete with purples and blues so dark it could be night itself.
Dragging a hand across his cheek, you press your forehead against his own. “You’re gorgeous.”
Rafayel’s ears heat up, and he can hardly stop himself from succumbing to his instinct begging him to take you, to lure you into the stormy depths and to fuck you until you lay writhing, full of his brood on the seafloor.
Instead, he lets you explore him, his new body, and what remained of the man you knew. Drunk on his siren’s call, you are pulled closer to him, waves lapping at your chest now as you trace the swirls of purple, vermillion, and gold markings dancing down his chest, scales of the same hues following down until the warmth of Rafayel’s skin turns to the cold, smooth feel of scales and he gasps against your touch.
One moment you’re standing against the waves and the next you’re dragged back to shore, pinned against the sand.
“I’m sorry, I promise you’ll have more time to ogle and worship my body another day.” You scoff, about to throw a snarky reply when Rafayel presses his tail between your legs, yards of it still tailing behind the two of you as you’re effectively pinned. “But right now, I need to breed my pretty little mate full.”
You whine, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leaning up to kiss him before he can babble any more nonsense. His lips taste like seafoam and smoke, and you gasp into his mouth as you feel his tail begin to roll into your hips, the motion smooth from the foreign texture of his scales and your own dripping slick.
“Ah, you’re going to have to…” Almost embarrassed, Rafayel’s hand leaves yours, trailing down his own body as he prods against the underside of his tail. Curious, your fingers follow his own, finding a spot where the rough scales turn soft and smooth, a seam that feels like muscle, and within it, an equally wet slit. “There.”
You’re too desperate to even tease him, working your fingers in gentle circles until you ease one in, stroking the smooth velvet of his walls until both of your fingers can slip in. Then, something bumps against your fingers, prodding as you help coax it out.
Rafayel groans, his enormous body convulsing as he presses against you. “Hurry up.” He grinds harder, nearly pulling you deeper into his slit. “Hurry up, hurry up, you’re taking too long.”
Rafayel has always been a demanding lover. But not like this. Not like he might actually die if he isn’t inside of you right at this very moment.
You huff, amused. Why not make him suffer just a little more?
“What do we say when we want something, Rafayel?”
“Fuck. You are impossibly cruel, can’t you see I’m already suffering and yet still you make an effort to be so–” You curl your fingers up, knuckles roughly knocking against his still-sheathed cock. You very well almost come undone at the face he makes, twisted in pleasure as his eyes roll back, jaw slack with a high-pitched whine as he arches into your punishing touch. “Please! Please, ah, I’ll beg. I’ll beg, I’ll- fuck - I’ll fill you so well, I swear, just let me breed you.”
How could you say no to something so sweet?
Finally pulling his cock free, your breath catches at the sheer weight of it, heavy against your stomach and at least two inches longer and rough to the touch, ridges slick with how badly he’s leaking as you feel up and down his tapered length. But, unlike back at his studio, this liquid is clear and leaves pinpricks against your palm, almost going numb as he spills and drips onto your skin.
Rafayel gasps, “Antispastic. It’s muscle relaxant to keep our mates comfortable and pliant for us.”
Comfortable and pliant. You suddenly feel the very opposite, especially when you remember the end goal of this mating session.
“Shh,” Rafayel coos against your ear as though hearing your fears, his fingers already working against your entrance as he whispers sweet nothings and praise into your ears. “I’ll make sure this doesn’t hurt any more than you want it to.”
And with that his fingers retreat, grinding his enormous form closer as you feel the nudge of his cock against your core, pushing in with the help of the gentle rocking from the waves, tapered tip making the stretch easier.
You wince and Rafayel immediately kisses you, distracting you with his tongue before he hilts himself in one brutal movement, pinning you down as you thrash in protest. The pain only blinds you for a second, and then the relaxant does its work, filling you with a warm, tingling feeling that almost has you floating. You let out a garbled plea and Rafayel coos in response, lacing his fingers with yours.
Despite already being fucked deep within you, Rafayel’s hips rut insistently against yours, pushing and pushing until you can feel the round bulge at the base of his cock grind against your clit, making you cry into his lips.
Every ridge on the side of his cock catches deliciously against your walls, and you arch off the beach, your legs twitching against Rafayel’s tail until he lifts one up, nipping against your ankle and calf before hooking it over his shoulder, still suckling at the delicate skin around your inner thigh.
The intimacy of it all scares you.
For the past month Rafayel has been insatiable, as if once he finally got you in his bed he never wanted you to leave again, always finding a way to lure you on top of him or trap you underneath, the perfect picture of lust. Regardless, it would always end with fast, frenzied fucking. But not like this.
Not with him slowly rocking into you, pulling back until just his tip remained before grinding all the way in as he whispered songs in a language you could not understand. Not with him intertwining his fingers with yours and watching your every reaction with utmost receptiveness and adoration. Not with him kissing away your tears as you come undone.
But for Rafayel, this was long overdue.
After all, he’s chased you throughout every lifetime, forsaking his people, giving up his heart, and vowing himself to you time and time again despite knowing how it ends— how it always will.
Your face goes slack at your sudden orgasm, but Rafayel helps you through it, one hand unlacing from yours as he thumbs your clit until your shudders subside. He whispers, not caring that you’re still too fucked-out to hear. “I’m not a patient man, you know. I’ve been waiting for centuries. And now you’re here, you’re here and you’re all mine.” Another kiss to your forehead before he feels that uncontrollable heat rise again, letting it take over. “I’m never letting you go again.”
When you come to the first thing you feel again is the rhythmic pounding against your sweet spot, and you writhe against the sand with a violent gasp. Desperate for some sort of relief, your hands push at Rafayel’s chest, futilely trying to force him back or at least get him to slow down until another particularly rough thrust has you sobbing, clawing at his arms and shoulders.
But Rafayel hardly seems to notice. He’s lost himself entirely, eyes glazed over as they fixate on where his cock bullies into you, muscles across his back and tail pushing him forward with a force that makes you scream. Fueled by your mindless whimpers, he forces his cock in deeper, chasing his release so he can finally, finally fuck you full.
Rafayel also doesn’t last long, his third orgasm hitting him violently enough that he nearly collapses on top of you, purring against your throat with a trill that comes from deep within his chest. His fangs dig into the juncture between your shoulder and neck as he continues to come, rope after rope coating your cervix, filling you with a warmth alongside the muscle relaxant. You nearly come too, almost uncomfortably wet, slick enough that even the monstrous ridges alongside Rafayel’s cock slip deeper and deeper inside you with terrifying ease.
Again, he moans something in another language, a series of clicks and purrs rumbling from his chest, eyes dark and unfocused as he forces you to look up at him. “You’ve been so, so good for me. Pretty little mate needs to be fucked full though, ya? Need to be filled with my brood?” You don’t even realize you’ve come at his words, something else squirming against your clit below his swollen base. Rafayel licks your tears away, tongue nonhuman as its length curls around your cheek, moaning at the taste of your sweat, arousal, and seasalt. “Shh, it’s okay, I’ll defy your silly human biology, make you a mommy.”
Fighting to prop yourself up against the sand, you reach down, hand trembling as it thumbs against Rafayel’s slit once more. But this time, something else has begun to emerge.
Rafayel sobs against your neck, keeping what you now realize is his first cock buried greedily inside you, unwilling to pull out by any more than an inch. Drunk off of him, you messily press two fingers into his slit, hiking your legs further up his shoulders to give you better access to where the two of you are joined against the splash of the waves.
Dipping your fingers in, you inhale sharply at the squirm of something rough, thumbing the coil out as it writhes and curls into the warmth of your palm. his second cock is not, well, it’s a tentacle for lack of a closer human anatomical reference. All ridges and scales as you coax it to a similarly monstrous length as the first, but thicker, writhing as though possessing a mind of its own.
And right below it, you feel the obvious bulge against Rafayel’s tail where his eggs are.
You’re suddenly very, very grateful for the Lemurians’ natural muscle relaxant.
Despite the slick practically leaking from you, you still tense as the tip of the tentacle dick begins to flick and tease at your already full entrance, not giving you a moment to breathe before it begins pushing in alongside the first. It pokes and prods enough to have you whimpering before Rafayel holds your thighs still and thrusts, forcing both his cocks in to the hilt.
It feels impossible. It shouldn't be possible.
But the way he fits is perfect, a tight, burning stretch, the ridges along his first cock and the suctions on the second bruising you in ways that make you scream, vision going dark around the edges as Rafayel moans into your ears. Your cunt feels abused to the point of numbness, the pain dissolving as your mouth hangs open, jaw slack as nonsensical babbles and pleas fall from your lips.
And, fuck, Rafayel doesn’t even bother waiting to let you regain your sanity before his two cocks start pistoning in and out of you, the bottom one curling and stroking against the first, effortlessly brutal along the slick walls of your cunt. His fangs ghost along the shell of your ear as he splays his huge, slightly webbed hand across your lower belly.
"How deep am I?" He rolls his hips again, rougher. You cry as Rafayel’s weight forces you to tuck further under him, nearly folding you in half as your legs press against his tail. "Can I go deeper? Can I? Please, please, please—"
You gasp, mewling and writhing as you feel the bottom cock begin to squirm again. Bullying its way into your cervix, it thrashes violently against that spongy spot inside you that has your vision spinning. Rafayel is fairing no better, losing the capacity for human speech altogether, moaning as his cock finally breaches the tight ring of muscle, fucking into your womb.
Even through the haze, legs numb and twitching, your body still convulses in protest as you feel the bulge pressing against your clit begin to move. Rafayel shudders right as it does, clawed hands digging into the back of your thighs as he forces you impossibly closer. The bottom cock twitches, coaxing your womb open, and you moan as you feel the bulge creep forward.
This should hurt, it should horrify you, and yet it only breaks you in ways that will ruin you for any future lovers. Not that you ever plan on leaving him. Not after this.
Rafayel thrusts one last time, waves raging around you as he does so, and you nearly sob as you feel the bulge shift up his length, dragging slowly against your walls until it presses against your cervix. Even then you only cry in pleasure, nails digging bloody crescents into Rafayel’s shoulder as he does the same against your thighs, the antispastic doing its work in keeping you deliriously wet and pliant. You roll your hips desperately against your lover, and the sudden shift in position forces the first egg beyond the tight barrier, falling into your womb.
Gods. It feels heavy, it feels wrong, it feels so fucking good you come again with a silent scream.
Rafayel swallows every noise with a messy kiss, his serpentine tongue curling around your own and sucking, nearly fucking itself into your mouth as you get lightheaded from both the lack of air and the press of his second egg already at your entrance. You sob into Rafayel’s lips, greedily moving your hips against his own, forcing him in further before he obliges, shoving your thighs further apart until your knees touch the sand too. Then you feel the weight of the second egg bump against the first, overwhelmed as the next has already begun stretching you full again.
The two of you are reduced to little more than animals, helpless fucking and licking and moaning against one another as the eggs come one after another, again and again and again until your womb feels bloated and abused, the feeling euphoric thanks to the copious amount of relaxant and cum already flooding you. Rafayel’s bottom cock convulses after depositing the seventh egg, its tip finally wriggling out from your cervix’s vise grip against it, sucking and soothing your abused walls as you come once again, sobbing and numb to the pleasure-pain.
“Perfect,” Rafayel coos against your lips, rutting insistently inside you as his fingers lace with yours, forcing you to feel the taunt skin over your womb, the bulge obvious and hyper-sensitive. “You did so well, my perfect little mate, you deserve a reward don’t you?”
Unable to form words, you nod, your entire body trembling as Rafayel laughs, thrusting his hips again, each one sharp and punishing against your overly-sensitive cunt, pelvis smacking your clit as your vision spins. He trills, a shudder overtaking his enormous body as his scales glow, pale blues and deep purples flicking violently down his skin and tail as the waves crash around him, continuing until he comes inside of you. It’s endless, the warmth coating every aching surface of your cunt up until your poor stretched womb, hot and thick as you feel Rafayel futilely attempt to keep it all in you with his dicks and then fingers.
What does end up squirting back down your thighs and onto his abdomen is lapped up by the ocean, and the waves offer a cool relief as Rafayel finally pulls out and collapses onto the sand beside you. You feel simultaneously horribly empty and heavy, something Rafayel takes note of as he pulls you against him, humming into your neck and wrapping his arms around yours, careful not to place any pressure against your sensitive middle.
He groans against your ear, and you turn in panic, only to see him back to his human form, the only evidence left of his tail the deep valleys against the sand where it once rested. You immediately regret moving, however, as the weight against your womb lurches you off balance and you moan before stilling yourself on your side. Holy fuck, how long will this last?
“R-” your voice is raspy and you wince, “Rafayel?”
He hums in answer, already kneeling beside you before lifting you easily in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he litters butterfly kisses over your forehead and nose. “What you said about the, um, fertilizing thing. These won’t actually hatch, will they?”
Again, Rafayel laughs, pressing his nose against the top of your head as he inhales. Another giggle. “Maybe.” You hit him. Hard. “Ouch, meanie. No, even with all of that there’s hardly a chance Lemurian clutches take. Not to mention you’re a human, so therefore not our necessary host.”
You choose to let his provocative word choice go over your head and sigh in relief. Thumbing gently against the bulge of your lower stomach, you lean further into Rafayel’s chest, nearly lulled to sleep by the sound of his heart thumping in time to the crash of the waves.
“But,” Rafayel sings the word with a playful lit. “If any of them do happen to fertilize, we can just fish them out before they hatch.”
“We can what.”
Gods, what did you get yourself into?
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace smut#lnds rafayel#rafayel l&ds#rafayel x reader#lnds smut#l&ds smut#l&ds rafayel#l&ds x reader#rafayel
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may i request ghost seeing reader making something (maybe a get well soon card or a papercrane or sth idk) and then someone accidentally ruining it? like how would he react? what would he do next etc
doesnt have to be a fic if you decide to write it, could be bulletpoints or something ez🥰🥰
thankyouu🥺✨
I love getting requests like this one; thank you @lululandd! Also, there’s a very important A/N at the end, so meet me there. Buh-bye for now, enjoy! 🍫
———————————————————————
Price got hurt. It was a terrible hit, and everything happened so fast. You were there, at the crime scene, as everything unfolded right before your very eyes.
His injury, however, wasn’t the result of a mission gone wrong; no. Some idiot forgot to put the warning sign on the wet floor, which caused the poor man to fly into the air and crash to the floor.
The good news is that he's recovering quickly and is now being held at the medical centre until he's ready to be released.
The bad news? Without a captain to guide the team, there was no mission to undergo. And, without a mission, none of you had a clear direction or purpose, leaving you all floating in a sea of mundane tasks and boredom. So, for the past few days, you and the rest of the team have been doing mind-numbing chores ranging from scrubbing the kitchen’s greasy ovens to meticulously organising the cluttered armoury.
While Soap and Gaz are on patrol, you and Ghost are taking a break in the mess hall. He’s cleaning his gun by disassembling it and wiping all its metal components with an alcohol solution. You sit across from him, working on a different kind of project: making a get-well-soon card for Price.
Last night, you snuck into HR’s office and “borrowed” some supplies to help you with your craft: a piece of white paper from the printer, some markers, and a pot of blue-coloured glitter dust you found in one of the drawers. It was a mystery as to why the military’s Human Resources department possessed glitter. Still, it will undoubtedly prove helpful with your "crafty" mission.
You also went to the doctor and requested some “normal-sized” bandages to help with your secret project. The doctor leaned back in his chair, raising one eyebrow. He asked why you wanted the bandages, but you were so vague with your answer that he became suspicious of you. So he pulled his desk’s drawer and gave you one fucking bandage—just one. So you had to make it count.
You folded the white paper in half and carefully attached the bandage horizontally to create the outline of Price’s body. The only thing left is to paint his face on the bandage and draw a hospital bed underneath it. That, and getting the team together to write some kind messages on the card.
Ghost looks at you every now and then, mildly intrigued by your artistic creation. You catch his eye, and he quickly turns away.
“Do you like it?” you ask.
“It’s a bandage on a piece of paper,” he says, shrugging. “What is there to like?”
“It’s not just a bandage on a piece of paper,” you explain and gesture to the figure on the paper; “it’s supposed to be Price lying in his hospital bed, recovering.”
His response comes in the form of a lengthy, dismissive snort. He points to the glitter pot in front of you.
“Why the glitter?” he asks.
“It’s for the bedsheets,” you murmur.
“I didn’t know they transferred Price to a love hotel,” he mocks, turning away from you to resume his task. You roll your eyes in response and shift your focus to your craft. This is the same guy you’ll later ask to write a few pleasant words on that card. Fun stuff.
You can still feel his gaze on you as you work on the captain’s card. Despite his best efforts to appear apathetic, you notice him leaning in slightly, pretending to stretch or yawn while sneaking peeks at your project. His body language betrays him; even though he tries to be tough and keep up the act, you know that deep down, he’s a huge softie who can’t resist a heartfelt gesture. He coughs, pretending to clear his throat, and you stifle a laugh at his failed attempt to seem disinterested. You roll your eyes and slam your hand on the table.
“What’s your problem, Lieutenant?” you ask with an amused smirk on your lips.
“I just don’t understand,” he says as he wipes the gun barrel. “Why bother making a card from scratch when you can buy one?”
“Because it’s more meaningful,” you explain. “When you take the time to create something yourself, it shows that you care. It’s not a generic card; it’s a heartfelt statement.”
He lets out a sarcastic scoff.
“I’d do the same thing for you, you know.” You whisper.
He puts down his rifle and looks at you. “You would?” He asks, surprised.
You nod. “Of course, I would,” you reply, “but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that; I’d rather you stay injury-free.”
He chuckles and turns to look at the mess hall doors as they open, with Soap and Gaz carrying a large box and approaching you both.
They slam the box on the table without assessing its weight, causing the entire surface to shake. The impact knocks Ghost’s alcohol solution over, spilling it all over the table and, even worse, all over your hand-made card.
Your heart sinks to your stomach as you helplessly watch the liquid soak into the card, smudging the ink and warping the paper. Ghost throws the gun on the table and grabs your card as quickly as he can. Soap curses under his breath, and Gaz grabs some paper towels from another table, attempting to rescue anything he can. But it’s too late; the damage is done.
You look up to see Ghost standing there, pinching your card between his fingers.
He is livid.
“What the fucking fucking shit, sergeants?” He murmurs.
“Apologies,” Soap replies, utterly unaware of what he’s done, “Hope we didn’t ruin anything important.”
“This,” Ghost says quietly as he raises the destroyed card, “was a get-well-soon card for Price.”
“Sorry guys,” Gaz apologises as he wipes the table off. “Soap and I will go buy another o-”
“SHE MADE THIS!” Ghost yells at him, “SHE MADE THIS WITH HER OWN HANDS!”
Soap furrows his brow. “Why would you make a card when you can buy one?” he wonders.
Ghost slaps his thigh, muttering profanities under his breath. You try to convince him that it’s alright and that a store-bought card will do just fine, but he cuts you off and looks at the sergeants.
“Why make a card instead of just buying one?” He asks and brings the tips of his fingers together, waving his hand back and forth in front of the two sergeants. “Because a hand-made card is more meaningful and personal than buying a generic one, you dimwits,” he lectures them and turns to you.
“Can you make another one, Y/N?” He asks softly.
You lower your head to the ground. “I’m afraid I’ve run out of banda-”
“SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANY MORE BANDAGES, YA PRICKS!”
“And I had only one sheet of paper.”
“AND SHE HAD ONL-” he pauses. “How come you only got one sheet?” He asks, and you explain that you weren’t supposed to be on the HR premises, so you had to act quickly. Ghost lets out a deep sigh as he looks at the ruined card.
“Sergeant Mactavish, go get a few sheets of paper from my office,” he instructs before turning to Gaz. “Sergeant Garrick,” he orders, “go to the medic; tell him that your new boots have caused blisters on your feet, and you need a few bandages to patch them up.”
They both nod and leave to go fetch your supplies. Ghost turns to you and crumbles your—already—destroyed card.
“Don’t be sad, kid,” he comforts you, “I’ll help you make another one.”
“Really, Lt.?” You ask, grinning.
“Damn right I will,” he says as he takes off his gloves, “and it’ll have bandages and bedsheets full of fucking glitter and everything nice on it.”
———————————————————————
A/N: The card was inspired by this tutorial from Jennie Moraitis; all credit goes to her. Here’s a picture of the card from her website!
#simon ghost riley x f!reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x y/n#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x you#simon riley#call of duty#modern warfare 2#cod mwii#cod mw2#ghost cod mw2#ghost cod mwii#cod ghost#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley fic#simon ghost riley fanfiction#ghost mw2
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“hello, i am jude bellingham and today i will be interviewing my partner in crime, the love of my life, the straw to my berry, the-“ judes long and exaggerated introduction was interrupted by you, who was sitting next to him on the couch, “don’t overdo it, bellingham.” rolling your eyes and trying to hold back your smile, you lightly hit his shoulder, thus, a smile creeping on his lips.
“right.” he clears his throat, “sorry, darlin’”, shortly looking at you, jude leans closer and softly headbutts you, like a cat would to show its affection to someone.
“today, jude has the opportunity to ask me anything he always has wanted to know.” you continue to explain, not fighting back the smile on your lips anymore.
“this is brought to you by 1&1.” he quickly adds, before looking down at the questions he wrote on the card in his hands .
after dating for one and a half year, your relationship finally public, judes football club, bvb, asked if you two wanted to do a couples video, the football club known for always doing something to bring footballer and fans closer together.
jude was really excited, he finally had an excuse to ask you everything he never really got a clear answer to, while your leg was shaking, nervous from what your boyfriend would ask.
“okay, love.” jude begins, quickly adding, “be honest, though.”
“promise.” you replied, looking at his face as he smirks.
well, fuck.
“wait!” you cut him off before he had even started, “why is he the only one asking me something? what about me?” you look at the people behind the camera, all of them looking at you with an apologetic smile.
“it was judes idea.” daniel, the video director answered.
“judeth.” narrowing your eyes, you look at your boyfriend, him not being sorry at all.
instead of saying anything, jude decides to begin with the first question, “who, besides me, is your football crush?”
“pedri gonzalez.” you answer without any hesitation.
jude, thinking you wouldn’t say a name, looked at you with shock writing over his face. “that was fu- i mean, really fast, babe, like, straight out.”
“you wanted me to answer honestly.”
“i thought i was your football crush?” he, being the oh so well-known drama queen he was, placed his hand on top of his heart, eyes wide.
“well, you can’t be my crush now, can you? you’re my boyfriend.” is all you say, shrugging with your shoulders. “i have thing for spanish men, like, have you seen him?”
“moving on!” jude tries to change the topic as fast as he could, “we will talk about this later, though.” he mumbled under his breath.
“pardon?”
“what would be a break up reason for you?” he asks, putting the question sheet down, legs crossed and upper body turned to you.
“you mean, like, with you? or in general?” you ask, head angled to the left, as you look at his face.
“in general.”
“easy,” you start, sitting up properly and facing the camera to explain everything, “i really like the movie trilogy ‘how to train your dragon.’ like, so much, i can’t even explain it, you just have to put it on whenever i have a bad day and i immediately feel better. but, if the person i’m dating says something like, ‘oh, ew why would you watch this blablabla.’ i’d immediately leave them, i don’t care.” your face was serious, eyebrows knitted together.
“nah, for real.” jude nods, agreeing with you, “that film is an absolute banger.”
“i know, right!” you know turn to face him, happy that your boyfriend seems to enjoy the films just like you do.
“but that’s a child movie.” someone behind the camera voices out, causing yours and judes head immediately to snap to the direction the voice came from, offended looks painted on your faces.
“take it back!” you exclaim.
“for real, i even cried when i saw that scene in the last part.” jude quickly comes to your aim, his hand sneaking behind your waist to draw faint shapes on your hip/waist area.
hearing him say that made you giggle, leaning against his side and putting your elbow on his knee.
and it is true, you guys really were partners in crime, he was the apple to your pie, the smoke to your high.
—————————————
hiccup could like, get it fr
#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham x you#football one shot#jude bellingham fluff#x reader#football x reader#football#football imagine#jude bellingham headcanons#bvb#fluff#fanfic#pedri gonzalez
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Admirer from the past...
TW: blood, mention of dead bodies and stalking/obsessive behaviour
An expert crime fighter. One of the youngest CEOs. A skilled detective. As good as the Bat. Maybe even better than him.
Tim often found himself conversing with police officers and other detectives that were actually qualified unlike him. Discussing the crime scene, the criminal, the victim, and the next course of action. They all respected Tim and were willing to work together.
One night Tim found himself standing amongst the chaos of the press, the solemn faces of detectives and officers and a name written in blood covering the footpath along with other gory things... The crimson letters painting the cement were a confronting display.
It was the works of a new villain, one that had only just started doing such things two weeks ago. He was one of the most psychotic men Tim had ever dealt with. And it seemed he had a nasty obsession with some poor girl, given he was constantly leaving dead bodies and flowers strewn across Gotham City dedicated to her.
Honestly, the situation twisted Tim's stomach, making him all the more adamant on finding this fucked up guy in hopes of sparing his target the fear and trauma.
Tim kept to himself as he tried to analyse the scene, picking up clues and taking his own samples. That was until the screech of tires on the road caught his attention. Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw another well known detective pull up beside the crime scene and hastily get out of his car. And with him a woman. Tim quickly let his eyes glance over you. You wore a fitted suit, golden hoops and your hair thrown up into a french twist. Throwing your trench coat over your shoulders, you hurriedly followed the detective with an unimpressed look on your face.
"If you haven't even caught the assailant yet, why am I here Harry?" You asked before you fell into step with your co-worker and friend. He was almost like an older brother to you.
"Because, I need your input. Your analysis. This guy is a fucking nut and we have no idea how to predict what he's gonna do next."
Intelligence and class seemed to drip off of you, and Tim was immediately smitten interested in you. He even found himself wondering if you were seeing the man you had arrived with.
Surely not, he was old enough to be your father.
You and Harry ducked under the police tape, your hands in your pockets and eyes trained on the gruesome scene. Black roses coated in thick blood decorated the ground around your boots. You instantly grimaced.
Harry made his way over to the group and greeted Tim first.
"Red Robin." He said with a nod.
"Detective." Tim said back, eyes still trained on you.
You turned in a circle to take it all in before nearing the group. "So, do we have anything on this guy?"
"Red Robin managed to hack into one of the shops security systems. The one across the street. With the footage he retrieved, we can see this sick bastard commit the crime, but his face is obscured."
You were watching Red Robin as the officer spoke, a little taken aback to see a vigilante standing in front of you. Let alone one of the bats.
"Can I see the footage?" You asked, eyes gazing back at his.
Tim swallowed hard. Your eye contact was unwavering, and he could feel a blush begin to creep onto his face.
"Miss, are you even a detective or-"
"Of course." Tim cut the officer off, handing you the tablet that sat atop a police car.
"It's fine," Harry said with the wave of his hand, "She's with me. She knows what she's doing."
Tim watched you analyse the footage. The man was wearing a cap, and some sort of odd make-up was smeared across his face. It might have even be blood you thought. You attentively watched the criminals behaviour. His mannerisms. The odd tick in his left shoulder. The limp in his right leg.
"Anything?" Tim asked.
His voice was like wine and you couldn't help but breathe in his cologne. You might come along to see these crime scenes more often.
"There's something." You admit with the furrow of your brows. "The way he moves. I can't put my finger on it though..."
Tim observed the badge clipped to the collar of your shirt. Although he could read what your occupation was, your coat was covering your name.
"Forensic psychologist?"
What a stupid moment to be making small talk. He began to chastise himself and his lack of charisma, but you didn't seem to mind, much to his relief.
"Mhm. Know what that is?" You teased, anticipating the Red Robin's response.
Tim smirked. "No actually, never heard of it."
You gave a light laugh and Tim felt he had to keep the conversation going.
"Are you new at this?" He asked. "I haven't seen you before."
"Not really," you replied with a soft smile. "It's my second year."
"Yeah, and she beats everyone in the game." Harry called out with a chuckle. You tried to hide your blush, but your humility mixed with your attempt to hide your reaction made Tim like you even more.
But the longer you watched the footage it suddenly dawned on you. The puzzles snapped together in your head and left you a little shocked. Tim immediately took note of the change in your demeanour.
"What is it?"
You held onto the tablet tightly. "I think I know who this is. The twitch. The limp. The hunched form and what he's doing..."
"Holy shit..." Harry said as the others all gawked at the writing on the ground.
Tim ignored them, focusing his full attention onto you.
"Back when I was just a psychologist. This guy came to me, I'm sure of it." You looked back up at Tim now, but before either of you could say anything, Harry called your name.
"You better get over here."
You and Red Robin joined the group, and as you looked down at the name on the footpath, your soul immediately dropped down to your feet.
"What's wrong?" Tim asked, looking up at Harry then at you. But now that you had moved, the name on your badge was revealed to Tim.
Everyone suddenly turned to look at you. And all you could do was stare down at the red letters before you.
"That's my name."
Continue to Part Two here
#tim drake imagine#tim drake fanfiction#tim drake robin#tim drake x reader#timothy drake#red robin x reader#red robin#dca fandom#dcu#dc comics#dc universe#angst#tim drake angst
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3am pt. 2 | ethan landry
notes: omg you guys 😭😭 i love appreciate every one of you ty for keeping the hype alive, SCREAM 6 SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT
She awoke up in a horrible cold sweat, having the worst nightmare about getting attacked by Ghostface on her way back from a party Chad had invited her to.
Sitting up in a disarray and out of breath, the quick pain shooting from the side of her stomach hitting instantly.
So it wasn't a dream.
Now sitting up, her heart was racing as she looked around and spotted Ethan, her boyfriend, passed out on a nearby chair, his phone still in hand.
She could barely remember what had happened before she passed out, but she assumed that Ethan had found her.
Then his phone started to ring.
This startled Ethan awake, nearly dropping his phone in the process. As he noticed his girlfriend in front of him, he rushed over to her side immediately.
“(y/n), you're awake.”
He was careful when it came to hugging her, as her stab wound was recently patched up, and it was a miracle that the knife didn't hit any vital organs.
"Yeah," She mumbled, groaning as she attempted to sit up, "Someone's callin' you, Ethan." Her eyes flashed to caller I.D, which flashed a picture of Chad in a Hawaiian shirt and cowboy hat.
Ethan was too tired to react properly, and in turn, picked up the phone without a proper introduction or 'yeah.' Instead, the news was dropped onto him that Anika and Quinn were murdered by Ghostface.
"What?" His face was painted in a look of shock as he glanced worriedly at (y/n), holding her closer yet gently.
"How's (y/n), is she doing alright?"
"She's a fighter. I'll be there."
As he hung up, Ethan turned to his girlfriend and planted a kiss on her head, "Look," He said, placing an arm around her shoulders, "Anika and Quinn were murdered, and I- I'm gonna go check up with everyone, okay?"
(y/n) shook her head dismissively before pushing herself upwards, Ethan quickly going to her side for her aid, "I'm coming whether you like it or not. I wanna catch this guy as much as I want him dead."
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯
As Ethan and (y/n) arrive at the crime scene, Mindy was fairly accusatory after the death of her girlfriend, Anika, to which Ethan brought up the fact that he was with (y/n) at the hospital after her attack.
"Mindy, what the hell?" (y/n) ran a hand through her hair as she sat on one of the open ambulances, sighing, "I've literally been in the hospital. How could Ethan be the killer?"
"Maybe that's the cover-up. Maybe he had someone paid to dress up as Ghostface and stab you. Maybe you two are both in on it. Just think about what happened with Richie and Amber."
This annoyed (y/n), who got up and pointed to her right lateral side, "I literally got fucking stabbed! Lay off the accusations, expert, your girlfriend just dropped dead."
Mindy narrowed her eyes at the pair before being held back by her brother, who was subsequently followed by Gale brining up something that the gang would want to see.
In a matter of minutes, the group of teenagers accompanied by Kirby, Gale, and Detective Bailey, were all at some supposed 'Stab' shrine in which all of the costumes and clothes of victims were compiled into an abandoned movie theatre.
Unsettled by the fact that the past was unearthed in front of her, (y/n) was by Ethan's side the entire time, not understanding any of the backstory that came with the tragedy.
Taking a dark trip down memory lane, (y/n) sighed before the words of Kirby got her attention, dragging a way to catch, or at least, trace the killer.
Hopefully, this was the end of it.
(ughhhhhhhh im not satisfied with this ending, you know there's automatically going to be more.)
#ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#scream#scream 6#scream vi#jack champion#anika kayoko#devyn nekoda#ghostface imagines#ghostface#quinn bailey#liana liberato#detective wayne bailey#dermot mulroney#mindy meeks martin#chad meeks martin#jasmin savoy brown#mason gooding#kirby reed#hayden panettiere#gale weathers#courtney cox#tara carpenter#sam carpenter#jenna ortega#melissa barrera
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need the firsts to play paintball. who takes it WAY too seriously? who gets paint in their mouth accidentally? who does it on purpose?
The story of why/how Cloud got court martialled for dunking Sephiroth's head in a bucket of paint
• Nothing good comes out of Genesis being bored at 2PM during a slow work day. Following that logic, horrible horrible things come out of Genesis dropping a paintball gun on Angeal's desk.
Genesis: We're playing paintball. Whoever shoots the most paint at their target wins.
Angeal: You are unbelievably childish. Do you really think Sephiroth is immature enough to go along with this?
*Sephiroth appears at the door and shoots Angeal and Genesis with paintballs*
Angeal:
Genesis:
Sephiroth: Tell me, what does defeat feel like? I wouldn't know.
• Sephiroth runs away.
• Sephiroth didn't think this through because now Angeal is running after him with a paintball, vowing to shoot Sephiroth's hair with paint.
*Angeal shoots, Sephiroth ducks*
• It hits Zack with red paint. Zack immediately throws himself to the ground.
Zack: I'M DYING.
Angeal: It's red paint.
Zack: I'VE BEEN PAINTED WITH DEATH.
Angeal:
Zack: MY DREADFULLY SHORT LIFE HAS COME TO AN END. WHO WILL TAKE CARE OF MY TAMAGOTCHI WHEN I'M NO LONGER HERE TO CARE FOR THOSE I LOVE?
Angeal: You're literally fine. The paint didn't even hit a fatal area.
*Kunsel and Roche appear. Kunsel starts drawing a chalk outline of Zack's body while Roche hangs up crime scene tape*
Angeal: ???
• Meanwhile Genesis gets to Sephiroth first. He corners him by the data room and shoots him with paint.
• This angers Sephiroth greatly.
• Sephiroth starts walking towards him slowly.
• Genesis tries to shoot him again. but the paintball is stuck.
• Sephiroth continues to approach.
• Genesis starts sobbing while trying to shoot him.
• Sephiroth is near.
*Lazard walks in on this scene*
Lazard: Are you two serious? I'm in disbelief. Never would I have thought you would sink to this level.
• Genesis panic-shoots Lazard instead.
• This time the paint does come out.
• There is now yellow paint on Lazard's expensive suit and glasses.
Genesis: Oh no. Sephiroth, help. What do we do?
*Genesis looks to Sephiroth for help. Sephiroth is long gone*
Genesis: Son of a bitch.
• Lazard drags Genesis away by the ear. They walk by the break room, where a funeral for Zack is being held. Kunsel is reading the eulogy while Zack (alive) lays in the casket. Angeal is screaming "FOR FUCKS SAKE. HE'S ALIVE. IT WAS RED PAINT."
• Sephiroth appears out of nowhere and panic-hits Lazard in the head with the paintball gun.
• Lazard is knocked out.
Genesis: Sephiroth! Did you shoot the director just to save me? I'm flattered. I cannot believe I ever doubted your friendship.
Sephiroth: I don't know what you mean. I simply intend to finish our game.
*Sephiroth points the paintball gun at Genesis*
Genesis: You motherless whore.
• Sephiroth shoots.
• Genesis ducks.
• It hits Cloud Strife, who had just arrived on the 49th floor to attend Zack's fake funeral. Cloud is now covered in purple paint.
Sephiroth: Oh, Cloud, my apologies. I had meant to shoot Genesis to settle our dispute, but you were unfortunately caught in the crossfire.
Cloud:
Sephiroth: While I understand why this may be a cause for anger, I believe in your ability to handle matters calmly without holding onto resentment or taking it personally.
Cloud:
Sephiroth: Right?
Cloud:
Sephiroth: Why is my sword in your hand?
#ff7#ffvii#final fantasy 7#sephiroth#final fantasy vii#ffvii crisis core#genesis rhapsodos#ff7 crisis core#angeal hewley#zack fair#cloud strife#storytime
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TOOTM one. to keep a promise
! ko kyungjun x fem!reader
a/n. this shit took so long omfg. whoever said writing was easy can suck my nonexistent left nutsack.
"i don't get why this is even a discussion."
"oh, cmon! you don't think the conflict around it is interesting?"
"whether its interesting or not doesn't matter because this shouldn't be an existing argument. if your partner or someone you love commits a murder and there's serious evidence pointing back to them, how could you just act like it's not even there?"
"dude, you're missing the point entirely. the question is not about what you would do in that situation, it's about what you should believe."
"that's so stupid. the only factor you should need is evidence. it doesn't matter if the accused is a long time friend, your partner, or even your child. sure, your judgment on their character is still relevant, but if their fingerprints were found at the crime scene there's just no way you can objectively ignore their culpability. at that point, you should either believe your partner is guilty or at best remain undecided."
"in that case, would you say that following the evidence is morally required?"
"absolutely."
"you don't think there might be other ethical factors to consider?"
"for example?"
"even though the evidence is strong, there's still a chance they might not be guilty. imagine how it would feel like to be innocent and have no one believe you, not even your own partner! by not supporting them you run the risk of seriously hurting them on a crucial time of need. and consider what this lack of trust would do to your relationship. could you really go on after seriously suspecting–and believing–they're a murderer?"
"are you saying you'd rather ignore the crimes of your partner, even when the truth is staring you in the face, just for the sake of love?"
outside of the ethical dilemma resonating through yoon yn's headphones, the girl shifted around on her seat. her limbs felt numb from remaining unmoving for so long and, even though the only companion by her side was her bag, the compact space paid no mercy on her back.
after finding a comfortable position she set her eyes on the view outside the window. sunlight hued over the fields of grass and the occasional farm, making the rural landscape imitate a painting in motion shaped by the most gentle brush strokes. the scene felt so engrossingly peaceful, she could almost feel the gale caressing her features despite the glass separating her from the world.
yn couldn't help but thank the scene–and the long lasting battery of her headphones–for giving her something to focus on, seeing as the ride to the resort her class was directed towards had resulted to be such an otherwise tiresome one.
"YES!"
an obnoxious voice popped yn's bubble in spite of the maximum volume she'd set for her podcast. distracted by the sound she turned to glance at the very back of the bus, where the students grouped up at the last row of leathered seats frowned in unison at heo yool–who mocked them with the cheekiest grin one could imagine. judging by their sullen looks, yn figured the citizens had lost yet another round of mafia, a game they'd been playing for who knows how long.
she recalled when her classmates had urged her to join the game the moment she stepped into the bus, which she declined, prioritizing her tranquility over the headache she knew they'd give her, yet promising she'd join in the next time.
after figuring out the source of that ruckus yn set her focus back on her podcast, purposely missing the eyes of the guy she'd been avoiding to the best of her abilities for days now.
just a few rows behind her, kyung jun's eyes never left yn as she disappeared between the sea of heads flooding the bus, and his scheme of intentionally leaving the space by his side unoccupied for her came to mind, especially remembering how his grand plan backfired when that fucking basketball-star-wannabe gave up his seat for her.
that annoying prick just couldn't get the memmo, couldn't he? to him, hyun ho had always been a nuisance; a pest that treaded on yn's heels at every chance he got–even when she used to hang onto the feared delinquent's arm.
"they're so loud," kyung jun muttered. he'd been trying to settle down the bittersweet echoes of his mind since the start of that damned school trip, in vain, since the blaring voices behind him made the flare that was his temper even harder to quell than any of those memories.
luckily, he needn't lift a single finger to make the commotion stop, and he was able to get some peace of mind thanks to his lackeys acting as spokesmen for his aggravation.
on the other side of the large vehicle, kim so mi sneakily took pictures of the class president.
"hey look, isn't he gorgeous?" the vice president called, showing what was sure to be one of her new favorite pictures to her friends seated behind: park ji soo, cha yoo joon and park woo ram. "doesn't this belong in a magazine? how can he look so gorgeous?" so mi repeated with a dreamy sigh, looking at her screen.
"i will tell jun hee tomorrow that you took a photo of him," woo ram threatened with a playful smile.
"oh yeah? what if i tell yn about all the videos you have?" so mi replied, pointing at the camera that always hanged around the guy's neck.
"please do, maybe i'll finally seduce her."
"oh my god," exclaimed yoo joon, "you are so delusional."
"why?" he lifted one of his hands in response to the very serious offense.
"dude, you barely talk to her."
"woo ram, you have the same chances of getting with yn as me and yoo joon of breaking up." ji soo stated.
the guy in mention glanced at his girlfriend, seemingly unaware of the joke. "that's zero, right?" question to which ji soo only rolled her eyes.
"i don't care what you say," woo ram brushed off. "i know she's the love of my life."
"ko kyung jun!" called out so mi.
like a tiny animal trying to save itself from a threatening predator, woo ram jumped to the empty seat by his side, hiding from the vandal's peripheral as much as possible while the rest of his companions laughed.
"fuck, kim so mi!" he cried out, "you trying to get me killed?"
"relax, he's not even looking," revealed the vice president with a cheeky smile.
as if they'd rehearsed it, the four students turned around to catch ko kyung jun's eyes still set on yoon yn, and by the looks of it, he didn't have any plans to cease his staring.
"not seeing them together is kinda weird," yoo joon pointed out.
"does anyone know why they broke up?" so mi asked to her peers, who all looked at each other expecting an answer none of them had.
"whatever," dismissed ji soo, "yn is better off without him anyway."
"yeah, she's been around us a lot more since then." agreed so mi.
"i bet kyung jun barely let her talk to us."
"right? he looks like the controlling type."
"i would never treat her like that." acknowledged woo ram, making his way back into the conversation only to get beaten back down by the three others.
the time inside the bus seemed to work differently than the rest of the world. minutes and hours mixed up in a disorienting spectacle that at least seemed to follow the sun setting over the horizon.
when they finally arrived to the resort, the only source of light were the numerous lamps adorning the streets and the inviting shine of the building before them.
with the bus door finally opened, the students of class 2-3 thronged the exit with overwhelming excitement. the trip had been longer that the teacher had promised and everyone was ready to get comfortable on their temporary rooms. of course, that included yn, who unfortunately had to wait for the rest of her classmates to take their suitcases out of the loaded trunk since her luggage ended up dropping to the back during the ride.
after everyone collected their belongings, the girl was able to retrieve her case at last. it was somewhat heavy but the tiny wheels at the bottom made it easier for her to slide the valise out of the bus' compartment. taking out the retractable handle, yn rolled her suitcase for at most six steps before someone else got ahold of it.
"what are you doing?" she questioned, but the guy simply walked away while pulling her luggage along and up the stairs.
"kyung jun."
at the sound of his name, he stopped. walking towards him, yn stood right between the entrance and the suitcase-stealer.
"what do you think? i'm helping you."
"i can do it myself." yn chided, staring him down harshly.
kyung jun had received many looks like that one throughout his life. from parents, teachers, students... they were all identical, ranging from disappointment to resentment and back. he was used to it. it was his day to day, how could he not be? yet he never imagined the same eyes that used to watch him with so much endearment would scrutinize him so cruelly.
"you used to love when i carried your stuff." he reminded her, scanning yn's face for a spec of something–anything–he hoped could save him from the pain her gaze struck him with.
the girl let out an exasperated sigh. why couldn't he leave her be? why was it that, no matter how much she wanted to distance herself, he always found a way to squeeze back into her life?
yn grabbed the handle of her suitcase and pulled. she wanted to leave, to get away from his side and free herself of his piercing eyes. unfortunately his strength surpassed hers, and she was forced to stay as he kept his grip.
"can you let go?"
"yn," he asked but the girl just focused on the luggage he kept hostage. "can we talk?"
"about what?" she sneered, speaking with as much disdain her troubled feelings allowed.
"you know what."
once again, she sighed. his antics were so infuriating; always pushing down the barrier she tried to put between the two.
"not now."
"then when?" he instantly snapped back, then took a deep breath to stop his grating tone. "you always say that but then you ignore me for days."
"look, i don't have time for this." for the second time, she attempted to retrieve her case. "i promised i'd help with the preparations for the class picture, so–"
"oh, c'mon," and still, he pulled back. "since when do you care about this school-spirit-bullshit?"
he was right, yn never involved herself with whatever activities the school came up with. time and time again, they'd skipped so many classes as to not get involved with all those school projects they both deemed as meaningless, deciding to spend their mornings strolling around parks and nearby shopping districts instead. but that wasn't an option anymore, and yn needed some way to blurr the images that kept torturing her with the agonizing nostalgia of a broken relationship.
"promise me we'll talk. tonight."
"sure," for the third time, she attempted to take back her luggage. but his answer was the same.
"no, yn. promise��me."
with every fiber of her being, yn summoned the last shreds of her patience and met his gaze. his eyes held her captive, beseeching her in silence to unravel the troubles he was willing to share with no one but her, and the hypnotic pull of his gaze weakened her willpower to resist.
"i promise." she reluctantly gave in.
as kyung jun finally released the carry-on, yn didn't even bat an eye before snatching it up and walking away. however, as she made her way into the resort center, she couldn't help but feel frustrated with herself for falling for his tricks. all the effort she had put into avoiding him seemed to have gone down the drain so quickly, leaving her feeling defeated.
not wanting kyung jun to catch up to her, yn rushed inside the building.
warm lights illuminated the vast entrance, composed by a lounge area with leathered sofas that accentuated the beige walls with brighter colors and a water dispenser conveniently placed next to the cushioned seats. at the center, a beautiful statue engulfed by faint blue lighting towered over everything below. the perfectly crafted marble giant was impossible to miss, looking like a still guardian watching over the resort's grounds. yet that didn't stop yn from overlooking the sign with the qr code needed for the resort's wifi and facility app.
following the arrows pointing out the way towards the elevator, yn got in and pressed the button labeled dormitories. the heavy doors slid and shut before the steel cage trembled, signaling its vertical movement. suddenly, the girl felt the air tighten inside her chest, twisting her lungs in a way that seemed to strangle them. oxygen got caught up in her throat as images of cables snapping and an imminent fall to her death plagued her mind. in, out, in, out. yn's breath increased as rapidly as tidal waves when the lights malfunctioned and in between flickers, she saw a dark figure out of the corner of her eye.
the moment she snapped her head back to take a look, a faint bell announced the door sliding open. taking in the air as steadily as she could, yn grabbed her suitcase and escaped the cage of death. frightened and disoriented, she questioned if what just concurred has been a quick fever dream or reality. and if it wasn't, why did her mind torture her like that? as far as she knew, never in her life had she experienced something that'd cause this crippling fear of high spaces. so why...?
she shook her head and brushed off the uncanny feeling, dismissing it as a consequence from the tiresome trip and forcing herself to focus on finding the room she shared with ahn na hee and kim so mi, who'd invited her with overwhelming coercion. compared to the elevator ride, figuring out her way to her dormitory was a piece of cake. the girl left her stuff in an empty corner and took the stairs down towards the gymnasium. there, instead of getting scolded by the teacher like she expected, what greeted her was a plethora of different activities performed by her classmates.
in the middle of the room, a group of students flawlessly danced to the rhythm of the songs reverberating from a large speaker, followed by lee joo young and choi mi na silently fighting for the spotlight, and being interrupted by ko kyung jun, who apparently had nothing better to do than to mess with their practice by turning off the music while his two loyal followers, shin seung bin and kim jin ha, played a very dedicated match of ping-pong.
on opposite corners of the gym, jin da bum, choi joo won, lee yoon seo and oh jung won were consecutively separated in two pairs, all conversing with their respective best friends. up on the second floor, cha yoo joon and park ji soo, who never seemed to stay away from each other, watched from above. on the stage, band members im eun chan, nam yeon woo and baek eun ha dabbled with their instruments to make sure everything was perfectly in tune. lastly, jang hyun ho and kim dong hyun busied themselves by organizing all the sport equipment laying around.
"yoon yn!" called kim jun hee from a large set of tables surrounded by the other members of the student council which, of course, included kim so mi and her friend ahn na hee.
with no sight of their teacher around yn walked stress-free to said table, although not before catching park woo ram pointing his camera right at her, which made the guy hastily turning to film someone else.
"you're here," the class president stated. "we thought you got lost or something."
"sorry, i got caught up with something." yn replied. she didn't really care about these preparations, but she did promise to help, and yn wasn't the type to use that word lightly.
"yeah! i was going to text you but we've been so busy preparing everything." so mi ranted, sprinkling salt into the wound.
"i can see that," yn commented, deciding to ignore so mi's backhanded scolding.
"what happened, though? did you really get lost?" na hee asked.
"no, i got stopped by kyung jun."
"oh, right. he was a bit late too now that I think about it."
"is that jackass bothering you again?" hyun ho, who'd come closer to the table just as yn approached, joined in and put a hand on her shoulder.
"no," yes. "everything's fine."
truth be told, yn would rather drop dead than having to deal with kyung jun. however, she knew that telling her classmates about it wouldn't lead to a positive outcome. after all, the only person who had the courage to confront the delinquent was hyun ho, and, given their history, yn was certain his involvement would only make matters worse.
in another area of the bustling gym, the noticeable trio of vandals were causing a ruckus in the corner. as they tossed a basketball back and forth, jin ha hurled the ball at kyung jun, who was too busy gawking at yn's arrival to notice. the ball smacked him right in the chest–a painful reminder of how his focus seemed to always follow after her.
"shit, my bad!" jin ha exclaimed.
their leader squatted to grab the ball at his feet and got back up only for his gaze to fix back towards the girl who constantly distracted him and, of-fucking-course, hyun ho standing right next to her, as always. the sight made his blood boil and his knuckles turn white as he clenched the basketball in his hands, while his rapid heartbeats deafened any coherent thought telling him to settle down.
seeing this, jin ha and seung bin looked at each other before the latter sighed and came closer to his friend. throwing one arm around his shoulders, he spoke:
"why don't we go outside, man? get your head out the gutter."
"yeah," kyung jun agreed, seeing seung bin was clearly trying his best to support him. perhaps he was right, some air would probably do him good right now. "let's go." was the last thing he said before disappearing through the gymnasium's exit, just in time to miss the teacher entering from the other side.
after informing the class presidents about a problem regarding the other bus full of students set to accompany them on this field trip, he left, clearly in a panic because of the unexpected turn of events.
in the meantime, most of class 2-3 remained in the gymnasium. no more than a few minutes went by before the dancing group, who now were fixing their hair and makeup while sitting on the floor, called yn over. ever since they found out about her break up, the girls had been offered her to go out again and again, an opportunity they took to invite her to join their club with not-so-subtle comments.
"oh yn, you should hang out with us more!" were the kind of utterances she always received from the class' cheerleaders.
mi na had insisted on brushing yn's hair. taking the empty stop in front of her classmate, she felt the bristles effortlessly flowing through the roots of her hair to its ends. the conversation was an amicable one. the girls often taking their time to butter up yn and saying how cool it'd be to have her in their club–until the self proclaimed hairdresser decided to dive into something she'd been curious about.
"hey yn."
"yeah?" she answered, eyes closed while enjoying the soothing sensation of the hairbrush.
"why did you and kyung jun brake up?"
mi na found herself at a loss for words when she faced the disapproving and critical stares of the entire group. why would you ask that? their glares yelled in silence, making her feel like she just made a terrible mistake.
"that's between him and i, mi na." yn abruptly ended the change of topic.
why did they break up? that's a question she'd been asked countless times ever since her classmates took note of their separation. a query yn remembered avoiding like a plague, long before this trip. only this time, a strange, guttural discomfort buried into every corner of her brain as she noticed a spec of something missing, unable to put together if the same evasion came as a reflex or because she couldn't answer it herself.
"right," mi na's shame, reinforced by the brutal glares of the other girls, took over her face as her cheeks flushed. "sorry."
luckily for her, just as her face morphed into a cherry tomato, a painful ringing roared through the speakers before the absence of light engulfed the high schoolers in deep darkness.
"c'mon! what is this?" one said.
"what's going on?" asked another.
"hey, turn the lights on!" resonated a voice from above.
a loud clang similar to a metal pipe hitting a hard surface echoed over the four walls, followed by the piercing shrieks of several people. helping themselves with the flashlights provided by their phones, the students revealed a white figure in the middle of the room.
"quit joking around." before any more screeches could be heard, hyun ho launched a basketball to the sheeted ghost, making it fall to the ground just as pathetically as your average cartoon villain.
with the precision of a well-rehearsed act, the room was suddenly lit up, revealing the mischievous culprit behind the childish prank. and lo and behold, it was none other than heo yool.
the collection of complaints from everybody present synced in a perfect expression of annoyance and the occasional insult.
"guys, listen carefully." the class clown™ gathered his classmates' attention as he stood from the ground. "i've heard that, a long time ago, a high school girl killed herself here," he explained, playing the role of a surprisingly talented storyteller. "so there's a few things you should never do: don't look at the mirror and turn around at midnight. and if someone grabs your ankle when you're sleeping, don't look down. if you break these rules," he turned to the group of dancers. "a ghost will pop up!" dashing towards them with the form of a rogish halloween scare actor, he was met with the frightened squeals of the girls.
yn, whose interest in the paranormal had never been deep enough to scare her, grabbed mi na's hairbrush and hurled it towards heo yool. an action that encouraged the rest of the class to throw everything they had at hand, along with some despicable remarks and the teasing laugh of the insufferable rascal.
defeated by heo yool's stunts, the students decided they've had enough as one by one they exited the gym.
"are you coming, yn?" so mi asked.
the girl nodded before answering, "i'll be there in a minute. i want to get some water first."
at the entrance, so mi and yn parted ways. she approached the water dispenser and took one of the cardboard cups provided by the machine. ever since the lights of the gymnasium had turned off, the girl noticed an unusual taste in her mouth that reminded her of her frightening fever dream at the elevator. she felt it at the back of her neck: something eerily creeping behind her at every given moment. was it possible that heo yool's story actually got under her skin? trying to brush off the uncanny sensation, yn took a sip from the refreshment in her hand.
"yn!"
the call startled her, making the water get caught up in her throat. she coughed and patted her own chest as the liquid scraped its way down her larynx, like a tiny bug trying to escape a spider's web. once able to compose herself, yn glanced towards the voice.
"im so sorry!" joo won panicked in a stutter, "i didn't mean to do that, are you ok?"
"im fine." she wiped the water from her lips with her long sleeve.
joo won and his companion standing behind, da bum, stared at her in silence.
"do you want anything or...?"
a simultaneous no and a yes echoed trough the entrance, followed by a confused frown from the girl and whatever silent conversation the two guys were displaying with their eyes.
"do you think maybe you could," joo won took his sweet time to mutter his next words, as if scared. "talk with kyung jun?"
"excuse me?"
what the fuck...? did kyung jun put them up to this?
"we just, well," the spokesman of the duo halted. "we gave some money to his friends a few days ago and we just don't want to bother them."
oh.
"so you bother me?"
"no, no!" da bum spoke promptly and grabbed his friend's arm, pulling him along as he took a few steps to leave. "it's ok, yn. we won't bother you."
joo won released himself from da bum's grasp and walked towards yn. "please," he pleaded, holding one of her hands tightly with both of his. "he'll listen to you."
right as her heart started beating with enough sympathy to care for their situation, the front door opened. seung bin, jin ha and kyung jun walked into the building, the latter playing around with a basketball.
the three delinquents would've kept their saunter if it weren't for yn's presence, which made the group's top dog stop in his tracks. his companions did the same and all stared at the situation unfolding right in front of them. kyung jun's eyes stayed on the hands holding yn and after noticing his threatening glare, joo won leaped away from her.
"what's going on?" asked the fearful leader.
"you owe them money?" yn countered, her eyes flickering between the trio.
"what?" the blonde one laughed, brushing off the accusation.
"they do!" joo won blamed, but instantly went back to his helpless self when met with the bullies' threatening scowls. "please, i just need it for my tuition."
the firm glare of the girl pierced through the tough act of the tamer vandal, making him drop his facade as he approached the feeble boy, closed fist in the air.
"fuck, man! we're on retreat, why are you asking us for money now?"
"yeah," seung bin joined in, defending his friend. "what are you, a loan shark? we told you we'd give you interests. give us some time, dipshit!"
kyung jun, who'd only taken the role of observer until that moment, put down the basketball he held and intervened to slap both of his lackeys' heads. "did you do sports betting again? huh?"
like scolded puppies, seung bin and jin ha faced the floor as they stepped aside.
"da bum," he called, and the guy lifted his head to stare at the bully. "did you lend them money too?"
"huh?" as kyung jun stalked closer, da bum's heart raced faster with every step. his eyes frantically scanned the room, desperately seeking any distraction from the intimidating figure slowly closing in on him. "yes. but i can wait for my money. there's no rush." with a lump in his throat, da bum braced himself for whatever was coming next.
"how much?" kyung jun's open hand grabbed the side of da bum's face, forcing the terrified boy to look right at him. "ill pay you back."
"you will?" da bum stuttered.
"of course," his grin turned into something sinister, which allowed only da bum to see because of their proximity. "in return play basketball with me, yeah?"
he faintly smacked his victim's face twice before coming up to yn. "everything's alright here, yn. see? no need for this." kyung jun reached out to hold her hand but she pulled away before any contact could be made.
was she really so revolted by him she wouldn't even let him touch her? accepting his defeat, kyung jun hid his hands inside his jacket's pockets.
"right," yn looked at da bum and joo won, who were currently being pushed around by the other two, before turning back to kyung jun. "in that case, i'll get going."
"you're not coming with me?" just as yn started to walk away, his words pulled her back in.
"i'd rather not."
"are you sure?"
with a swift nod, kyung jun signaled seung bin and jin ha to go ahead and, bringing along the poor students they were about to torment, they disappeared down the hallway.
they were left alone, just like kyung jun liked it. only them, with nothing and no one around to interrupt their precious time together.
not a single second did he stop looking into her fiery eyes, which only seemed to hold a hostility that antagonized his own devoted regard.
"it's almost midnight."
both held each other's gaze, which kyung jun took as an invitation to step towards the girl. he stopped right in front of her and, unfortunately, yn's heart betrayed her mind as she internally screamed for it to cease its raising beats.
kyung jun's hands raised to yn's face, completely forgetting her previous rejection. for a second, he thought of apologizing, since she'd made it clear time and time again how much she now despised his presence. but how could he apologize for something he was barely conscious of? he couldn't help himself, not when she was merely inches away, not with her. maybe if he insisted–if he didn't give up–she'd finally understand why staying apart was never the world's plan.
"you promised me. remember?"
his hands were close. so close he could feel his fingertips grace her cheeks, a touch so minuscule, yet enough to make his skin crawl with anticipation.
he was too close.
yn stepped back just as she felt the fleeting spark. she would be dammed if she ever allowed him to touch her again, in more ways than one. or at least that's what she told herself as she fell right into another one of his tricks. kyung jun knew her well; too well for her liking. and with such measly words she found herself helplessly cornered by her own self-discipline and morals.
fucking bastard.
up in the vast dormitory area of the resort center, different groups of people were each caught up in their own conversations, without a single care in the world or the impending sinister feeling hanging over their heads like an invisible wrecking ball about to crash and destroy every single thing they ever cared for.
in her room, lee yoon seo was finally able to lose herself in her novel when her phone pinged. slightly annoyed by the distraction she took a closer look to her home screen, which displayed an app in process of downloading.
"i told you i didn't need this." she showed the screen to her roommate.
"it wasn't me." jung won answered, just as astounded.
our perspective changes and now we observe a group of various students, all gathered in one room. the class couple, the cheerleaders and members of the student council all sharing snacks and stories between them in perfect harmony until a knock interrupted.
"come in!" allowed the vice president.
"hey guys," the door opened, reavealing hyun ho accompanied by his best friend, dong hyun, who stayed on the hallway behind him. "has anyone seen yn?"
"how come you don't know? you're always following her." mocked woo ram before taking a handful of chips from one of the various bags scattered around the room.
"you're one to talk." ji soo muttered, which provoked woo ram to throw a scrambled napkin her way.
"i'm serious." hyun ho replied, "i've tried texting her but this wifi doesn't even work."
"she told me she was going to get some water, isn't she downstairs?" just as so mi finished her sentence, one by one every phone in the room chimed.
notifications spread throughout the resort like a 14th century pandemic, resonating around every room as if imitating the never ending bells that announced the beginning of the end.
back in the gymnasium, joo won stood shaking below the basketball hoop with his friend by his side, eyes shut tight as neither dared watch the nearing hit from the ball.
"joo won, stay right there." kyung jun sneered as he prepared himself to throw. he looked up, targeting the net as he bent his knees, faked a jump, and sent the ball right into the boy's stomach.
joo won kneeled in pain, groaning and grasping his abdomen with both hands in his best attempt to soothe the aching sensation puncturing his body.
yn watched the situation unfold as she sat on the rubber gym flooring, otherwise cold if it weren't for seung bin's zip-up laid out below her. it had been kyung jun who'd instructed the blondie to give up his hoodie, since yn declined on taking his own. not a single word was heard from the girl ever since stepping into the gym as the trio took turns tormenting their two victims, until now.
"i didn't come here for this, kyung jun."
almost ten minutes had passed and she was still waiting for kyung jun to approach her and start the conversation he so adamantly pushed onto her.
"c'mon yn, let me give it one more shot."
he must've lost his fucking mind, thinking he had her wrapped around his finger to waste her time in such a way. fed up, yn got up and snatched the basketball out of his hands before throwing it away. it rolled towards jin ha, who immediately picked it up to quite the sound of the bouncing that only seemed to raise the tension of the ex-lovers' quarrel.
yn opened her mouth to give kyung jun an ultimatum, a last opportunity out of her remaining patience, when a sudden ding emitted out of her skirt's pocket. she would've payed no mind to it if it weren't for the other five identical sounds that propagated right after.
each person in the room took out their phones and faced their screens, which displayed a virtual envelope eagerly waiting to be opened.
TAP TO VIEW YOU ROLE, read the text below.
"wasn't this the resort's app?" asked jin ha, to nobody in particular.
resort's app?
she never knew about any app.
"mafia?" seung bin laughed from his spot at the floor and showed his screen. "what's this about?"
"what the fuck is this?" kyung jun mumbled with a frown, clearly confused.
yn brought one hand to the back of her neck as the abnormal sensation from minutes ago reappeared. goosebumps started breaking out throughout her skin and every cell on her body seemed to tremble uncontrollably while she stared at the little black mirror on her hand. which, as she would soon find out, reflected the last version of herself with any shred of purity.
🏷️ @flaneurpastel - @jwijii - @watamotee33
© to @divineei on tumblr; do not repost or steal
#fem reader#night has come#night has come kdrama#go kyung jun#ko kyung jun#cha woo min#kyungjun#nhc kyung jun#nhc x reader#nhc#night has come ko kyung jun#night has come kyung jun x reader#night has come x reader#ko kyung jun x reader#go kyung jun x reader#kyung jun x reader#night has come kyung jun
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Here's my thing not to always be complaining about bad interpretations BUT I genuinely do not understand how anyone at all can see the scene that established the Kraken where Ed is subjected to abuse by his father and then kills him, and then see a character attempt to force Ed to kill the first person hes ever gotten close to, attempt to kill the first person Ed has ever gotten close to, call law enforcement to come in and kill the first person Ed has ever gotten close to, and then when he succeeds in driving that person away and Ed tries to open up to even more people tell him he's better off dead and threaten his life. And then see Ed choke that character with a lighthouse painting positioned in the background just like how he choked his dad with a lighthouse in the background and declare himself the kraken like he did when he was talking about his abusive fathers death and not read all that information as leading back to Izzy abusing him. Like season 1 actually sends a very clear message if you're not into incel apologia.
And yes I have seen season 2, season 2 did three things in regards to this arc. The first thing it did was call the relationship toxic and unhealthy which affirms this reading, the second thing season 2 did was clarify that Izzy's intentions in doing all this were in fact to have Ed all to himself out of a psychosexual obsession rather than out of a hunger for power or even as a hate crime or whatever, so those are Izzy's two "this only looks like abuse but actually is about something else" alibis down, which reaffirms this reading, and the third thing it did was have Izzy take it all back and decide he's actually better now which, the redemption arc doesn't contradict any of that. And no I'm not ignoring Ed's violence against Izzy, he did all of that violence fully after four times trying to isolate Ed violently from other people and I think it's acceptable to kill your abuser, so Ed's violence doesn't factor into my read aside from how it relates to how he handled his first abuser, his father, and how he handled his second abuser, Hornigold, in the dream scape.
So basically last time I made this meta I said "guys I think Izzy might be abusing Ed, but Idk he could just be power hungry as fucked up little henchmen often are." But now that I have season 2 I'm rewriting it and saying that I know that Izzy is one of Ed's abusers, so thank you season 2 for clarifying this for me. He changed his mind and, well all I have to say about that is that I hope Ed feels safer now that he has changed his mind, but I still don't much care for him.
If you comment on this to argue with me without adding a 🦜emoji I'll assume you haven't read the whole thing before getting mad at me and delete your reply.
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Violent Delights Have Violent Ends - Part 2
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
WC: 1.8k
TW: Serial killers, murders, blood, referencing to infidelity, descriptions of dead bodies, bugs
A/N: Enjoy part 2 babes!!!!
Part 1
The worst part about a crime scene was not seeing the dead bodies, it was smelling them as soon as you entered the house. However, seeing them was not exactly great either.
This would have been much better advice than Derek telling you seeing a dead body for the first time can be a bit freaky.
You don’t really know why you agreed to go to the crime scene, but God did you fucking regret it now. Your eyes were starting to water and your hands were ever so slightly shaking. It was clear to you that all the profilers around you knew what you felt. Even if you were hard to read, they would have known just by the way you stopped talking.
Hotch gently put his hand on your arm, causing you to jump slightly and give him a small smile. He led you both to the kitchen to sit down for a moment, giving you a moment away from the whole scene.
Looking at the pictures was so different than seeing it in person. Someone actually dipped their hand in the neck of someone else and wrote on the wall in their blood. And they were cold and calculated enough to put gloves on first so there was no DNA left behind. Fucking psychopath.
“Y/n?”
You looked up from your hands and let out a curt laugh when a tear fell down your cheek. “Shit. Sorry.” Quickly wiping it away, you looked back down at your hands. “Sorry, I just….”
“It’s a lot.”
“Why–why do you need me here Hotch.”
He nodded and looked back at the living room. “Because we have a feeling the way he’s positioning the bodies might help us figure something else out, and you are our resident expert.”
“Don’t let Reid hear you say that. He might just have an aneurysm.” You muttered, a small smile on your face.
It got Hotch to smile in response. “He knows that you know more about this than him. Don’t worry. Can you get back in there or would you like us to take pictures and send them to you?”
You shook your head and stood up. “I’m fine. Just an initial shock I guess. Thank you, Hotch.”
The two of you walked back into the living room, and you were still grateful that you decided to forgo lunch, not giving your stomach any ammo in case it decided to evacuate your body.
The scene was gruesome. The wife’s body was lying on the floor in front of the fireplace arms above her head as if she was lifting something. Her blonde hair had been stained red, almost purposefully with blood, and braided into two long braids that came down the front of her chest. The only indication of any blood on her body, besides the gaping wound on her neck, was that the palms of her hands were coated in now-dried blood.
“It’s um.” You closed your eyes for a second. “It’s John Singer Sargent.”
“The famous painter?” Spencer turned to look at you from across the room where he had been talking to Prentiss.
You nodded. “His, uh. Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth, where she um, lifts the crown onto her head…It’s massive, like seven feet tall, four feet wide, at the Tate Britain in London.”
“What does this have to do with her.” Derek gestured to the corpse on the floor. Spencer, who noted that you really couldn’t take your eyes off of the body, pulled out his phone and quickly found the painting you were referencing.
“Oh wow,” Morgan muttered. “He even dressed her in the same shade of green…”
“It’s one of the most famous portrayals of Lady Macbeth out there. Her dress was decorated with….” Your eyes widened.
“With what.” Hotch walked over to you and looked between you and the body, and then over to Spencer. “What was her dress decorated with.”
Spencer quickly made his way over to you and kneeled next to the wife. “Oh my god.”
“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Derek crossed his arms, unamused by the lack of information being spread around.
“Beetles. Ellen Terry’s dress was decorated with the wings of beetles.” You spoke up.
_________________________________________________________
Spencer had volunteered to drive you back to the station so that you could look at the actual bodies of the previous victims to see if you could find more details that they had missed.
“This one, Spencer, she’s uh…” You bit your lip, looking at the first set of victims. “This was the Romeo and Juliet one right? Because she’s draped on top of him like every production and painting of Romeo and Juliet I’ve ever seen. If we have to go specifics then I would say probably “The Reconciliation of the Montagues and Capulets” by Leighton. And the um…” You placed that image down and hunted for another one.
“And this one is the Hamlet one since she’s positioned exactly like Ophelia in Sir John Everett Milais’ painting. The Pre-Raphelite one with all the flowers. Look at the sheet the unsub placed her on, it’s completely floral, and did the autopsy come back saying she had drowned, or was drowned and then resuscitated or something?”
Spencer nodded. He was honestly in awe of you. The way you reset your head when you left the crime scene. The urgency you had developed. The sheer breadth of knowledge you possessed just continued to make him fall head first for you. Not that he could ever do anything about it since you lived in London half of the time, and he was always traveling around the US with no sort of set schedule.
“And…uh, where is it.”
“What are you looking for?”
“The one with the, uh, um. What the fuck was that guy’s name?”
Spencer looked at you with a furrowed brow. “Are you talking about Caesar?”
“YES. God. I always forget his name. Portia. She swallowed hot coals to kill herself right? But in the picture…” You pulled the photo out of the depths of the pile. “There’s a wound on the wife’s leg. Her cause of death was bleeding out, right? With the way she’s draped on the bed, and her husband is in the other room, it’s not the show. I think it’s the baroque piece of Portia by, uh, um…oh shit what was her name….”
Watching you work literally made Spencer’s heart want to bleed. He would actually propose to you on the spot if it wasn’t an extremely insensitive time to do so, and also you weren’t even dating. It was baffling to him that he had only known you for three days.
“Elisabetta Sirani!” You pulled out your phone and looked up the picture, and lo and behold, it matched the body.
“I think that it’s an art student, or someone heavily involved in art. Some of these are famous paintings, sure, but others? There’s a history there Spence. I only know these paintings because of my Ph.D. Sirani is not as common an artist as she should be.”
He sputtered at the nickname but quickly recovered. “I’ll call Hotch and let him know.”
You smiled at him and he smiled right back at you.
There was too long of a pause. It shouldn’t have happened at all really. But the sheriff knocked on the door, misinterpreting the stare for something more aggressive. “I don’t mean to break up whatever yelling session is about to happen, but the autopsy report came back…those were real wings.”
You looked back over at Spencer. “Tell him to get the team back. You guys need to give the profile.”
_____________________________________________________________
“I just don’t understand where someone even gets that many beetle wings. It’s not like you can order them online and have them shipped to your house.”
“That tells you how premeditated this was then.”
“Woman, where have you been all our lives.”
You laughed and Derek smiled over at you.
“No, seriously Y/n. I never thought Art history could be so…”
“Violent?” You guessed, smirking slightly and shaking her head. “There’s a painting I think yo should look up Derek. Well a few of them—Saturn Devouring His Son by Goya is a favorite of mine, and then Judith Beheading Holofernes by Virmiglio has a shit ton of blood in it…or if you want some heartbreak, I am personally fond of Caleron’s Broken Vows, or anything portraying the Kiss of Franchesca and Paulo.”
“I just don’t get how you can store all of this in your head.” Derek pulled up to the college campus and flashed his badge at the campus security, who let him through the gate.
“Well, I don’t know how to take apart a gun, and then put it back together, let alone fire it. We all have our different skills.”
This caused Derek to laugh. “Touche.”
The two of you pulled up to the building with the offices of the Art History faculty and looked around the campus. “This is a massive campus, Derek. I’m pretty sure they have an MA and a Ph.D. in Art History beyond undergrad…”
“Believe it or not, this is not our first murderous college student case.”
You rolled your eyes. “Great. It’s good to know the youth of America are doing alright.”
That caused Derek to crack a smile. “Well. Let’s go find this professor and see what we can find out.”
The trek across campus brought you back to your college days. It was kind of nice to see that kids still hung out on the lawns and with one another, not just staring at their phones and laptops all of the time.
The both of you made your way up to the stairs of this slightly blocky building. It felt a bit like a museum with the amount of artifacts that they kept on the first and second floors, but as you walked through the fifth floor offices, your face started to fall.
“Derek what was the name of the professor we were supposed to talk to?” You whispered, slowly moving to a stop.
He turned and looked at you. “uh…Doctor Kolek, why?”
You pointed to the door you stopped in front of.
It was slightly ajar and looked as if the lock had been busted. Morgan quickly, pulled out his gun and shoved you behind him, calling out the woman’s name as you both held your breath.
When there was no response, Derek slowly pushed the door open. Her office was a wreck, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. Papers were scattered, there were frames on the floor, and a dent in the wall as if someone had tried to throw something at someone. You called out the woman’s name again, only to gasp. Derek turned and faced the same way you were looking.
Doctor Kolek was face down on the floor. There was no blood around her, and the room didn’t smell like death, so that was a good sign, but she was clearly unconscious. Derek quickly rolled her over and checked for her vitals.
“She’s still breathing. Call a medic.”
You scrambled to pull out your phone, dialing 911.
#x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid fluff#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#Spencer reid x y/n angst#Dr Spencer reid x dr!reader
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here's some random writing advice that i've found helpful, in no order, that i reserve the right to add to at any time:
no one says everything they're thinking. in dialogue, less is more. people don't speak in paragraphs, they speak in sentences, especially when they're not telling a story. let the dialogue be brief, and use interiority (thoughts) to show the reader all the things they aren't saying.
use physical cues to help the POV character understand what the non-POV character is thinking/feeling/not saying/lying about. For example, if we're in Jane's POV while Maura is talking, and Maura says "I'm fine," Jane can notice that her eyes are darting around like she's anxious, or she's crossed and uncrossed her arms, almost like she's nervous. there's no need to say MAURA SEEMS NERVOUS, let the reader get it from what Jane's picking up.
let the reader be curious—don't info dump—but don't frustrate them by giving so little that they don't know what's going on. this is a very very fine line sometimes, and betas can be really helpful for pointing it out until you've gotten the feel for it.
Use paragraph breaks, for the love of god.
Only italicize things that really and truly cannot be explained any other way. "What are you doing here?" for example doesn't need any italics. If you can't get the reader to understand what you mean without the italics, then, sure, use them. but SPARINGLY. use body language, interiority, other words, and dialogue tags (shouts, yells, whispers, cries, she says as her voice cracks) to get the reader what they need.
"What are you doing here?" could be "what on earth are you doing here?" (aka, i have no fucking idea why you're here, my dude)
"What are you doing here?" could be "i told you to stay out of this, lucy! what are you doing here?" (aka, lucy you specifically should not be here)
"What are you doing here?" could be "jesus, you scared the shit out of me! I thought you were at the front! what are you doing here?" (aka, i'm not surprised to see you, but i'm surprised to see you HERE what the fuck)
Don't head hop. Know who's POV you're in and STAY IN IT until the chapter break, scene change that's clearly indicated by ***, whatever. if this is challenge, try writing in first person to get in the habit of only knowing what your POV character knows. There is, of course, 3rd person omniscient narration, but it's really fucking hard to pull off and honestly I recommend staying away from it entirely. Most things you'll read are written in first or close 3rd, and that's not an accident.
Let your characters move around in space. let them notice the things around them.
If Kate walks into a room, i'll probably list what she sees in order of importance, unless it's a big reveal. i'll add voice to that so you'll know i did it on purpose.
in order of appearance: "the body lies in the middle of the big, wide room. the ceiling must be twenty feet up, and there are plenty of windows, the way the light catches the falling dust mites looks more like a church than a crime scene."
with reveal/voice: "Kate bursts into the room and immediately skids to a stop. it's too bright, all white walls and high windows. it looks like the kind of room you'd put a WeWork in, or maybe a super expensive soulcycle. normally Kate would be itching for a paint roller and some blueprints, but today she ignores the terrible architectural choices, choosing to focus instead on the dead body congealing in a puddle of dark brown blood in the middle of the floor."
try to have an internal plot/obstacle (alex can't be honest with maggie about their relationship because she hasn't told her that her sister is superhero) and external plot/obstacle (there is a serial killer targeting aliens in national city, and all three women are on his radar). Best practice is for them to intersect and create layered, complex problems (maggie can't understand why alex is so fucking freaked out about this serial killer in the first act; yes, crime is bad, but like, it's their job? why won't alex TALK to her? where does she keep running off to in secret? does alex even actually want to be with her??)
Everything should have: tension, stakes, obstacles. Try not to make all of that hinge on a misunderstanding or one person being too chicken to confess their feelings. that gets boring and frustrating for the reader.
If you need to make a calendar, make one. If you need a cast list, write one. keep yourself on track.
introduce new original characters slowly. give them one name (first and last is usually not necessary at the start). give us one or two things to remember about them. Jenna is the producer of the tv show. Jenna is mean. the next time she comes back, call her "jenna the producer." then the next time you can hint to her role, like "jenna has her big clipboard and is shouting at everyone to get the fucking cameras ready." if jenna doesn't come back again, don't name her. be kind to your readers who forget things, and help them out by limiting the named cast to people who need to be named. if they don't show up until halfway through, don't introduce them until halfway through. for fanfic, obviously this is easier because we know everyone, but still, please. only have the people in the scene who need to be there. huge scenes with 5-8+ characters present are a MESS.
if your character has two best friends who fill the same role, cut one. streamline so i as the reader have less to keep track of.
banter can be fun to write, but dialogue without movement, choreography, internal thoughts, lies, physical cues, and plot movement gets really boring to read. if a scene is skippable, ask yourself what would make it essential, and add that.
every conversation should do at least two things. things can be:
move the plot forward
deepen, change, or complexify an existing relationship
create tension (plot, romance, etc)
explore stakes
attempt to get over the obstacle
FOR EXAMPLE: Helena and Myka almost kissing when they shouldn't because Helena is with Some Dude? yes! that's romantic tension and attempting to get over the obstacle (some dude). Myka rambling to claudia about almost kissing helena for 3 pages: no! That does nothing on this list. the event already happened, and a long debrief about it isn't interesting to the reader. Let Myka ruminate while she's doing one of the other things. and by ruminate, i mean KEEP A LIGHT TOUCH HERE, ruminating is very very easy to make boring and maudlin. trust your reader; be subtle about it.
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Some various lighthearted life updates 🏃♀️
It's been a very busy last few months! in a good way mostly. We had a friend visiting us from overseas so we showed him around the city and took him to all our favourite places. We also met new people and were invited to a bunch of events so it's been very fun! We are all out of social battery tho so now we are slowing down a bit and getting back to work. Nicolas is on a short work trip to Berlin and I'm back to painting. We also started running! aaand we are also back to watching a bunch of shows and to me talking about it here to like five people 😌
Under the cut cause it's a lot as usual!
We finished watching S13 of Doctor Who! (we still have the specials to go but after that we are all caught up!) I haven't updated in ages so here are lot of opinions!
We really did not enjoy S11 😞 I was aware it wasn't very popular but we were hoping it was for all the wrong reasons, sadly we found many to be valid. Some of the episodes were baffling, Rosa? Kerblam?! the writing of the whole season in general felt like a rushed school assignment. The first part of Spyfall was a strong start for the next season but that ending in the second part was really not it. We did love Sacha Dhawan's Master tho!! and we really love Jodie too, 13th is adorable and reminded us of Ten at times! Jodie is such a fantastic actress that it makes the quality of the writing and everything else around her even more frustrating 😫 S12 was an improvement in general. In the last few episodes It felt like the writing team suddenly remembered the companions could have a personality and agency lmao. Highlights for us were Spyfall one, Fugitive of the Judoon and Haunting of villa Diodati, tho we did also enjoy most other episodes of the season despite their issues.
The timeless child plot reveal felt a bit underwhelming? The idea on itself has potential but it felt mishandled (and it had a bit of a Moffat flavour to it? and not in a good way). I think it was meant to add more depth to the Doctor's lore but in a way it ends up having the opposite effect. Then the flux was just a complete mess. It read like a Marvel sort of plot, very comic book like which is alright I suppose if that is something you enjoy but it felt out of place. But mostly it was just way too much, it got out of hand. Anyway we still have the specials to watch! and I think the Master is in them so we are looking forward to it 🥰
We also watched Broadchurch!! and we LOVED it. We ended up binging all three seasons. Chibnall's writing on this is surprisingly great and Jodie's acting is spectacular she really shines here. Olivia and David are always brilliant!! honestly everyone's acting was amazing. This series had us both tearing up every five scenes. The direction and the music are outstanding. I could watch Hardy and Miller solve crimes forever I really love their chemistry and dynamic. We went into it expecting the usual detective fiction but it ended up being a whole study on grief with such a focus on family and community and trauma and a ton of touching interconnected character arcs, just really really good!!
Then we also watched Taking over the Asylum!! MAN we were not expecting to have our hearts wrung out like laundry by this!! We thought it was a lighthearted show!! GOD we are still not over it, what the fuck!! It was so good we loved it!! but we were not prepared lmao what do you mean 'the end'?? we'll be thinking of this for months, I was expecting an extra scene after the credits or something. Excellent characters, refreshing depictions of mental illness and trauma and so crushingly realistic. Every character is so loveable I really wish this was longer 😭
And our quest to watch everything with David Tennant on it continues. We watched Decoy Bride on Valentines day too and it was terrible but such a hilarious fever dream kind of bad that it was fun, it has David on it and he never disappoints. I feel so lucky that Nicolas and I are both in love with him, get yourself a man who shares your celebrity crushes lmao it's so fun!! We feel like teens again chatting about him and drawing little hearts next to his pictures haha 🥰 We watched the BAFTAs just for him and speaking of the baftas!! I was not expecting that last drawing of his outfits to get that much attention oh my god 😭 thank you!! you are all insane and I appreciate it so much!! and thank you for all the support in general, about my art and photos and just everything. I feel very lucky and grateful 😭 anyway I'll end this before I get sappy, that is all for now! I hope this week is kind to you all, I'll be sharing some more art soon 😊
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I was thinking maybe Kai loving the sight of his girl killing someone and smut with blood still on her from the victim, and he is praising her for being a good girl and letting her know how proud he is of her. Btw i loved the fic u posted its so good!!!😭
Kinda love this request, I'll try do it some justice. I apologise if it isn't what you were requesting.
Hot
Pairing: kai anderson x female reader
Summary: things get hot and heavy between you and kai in an alleyway beside a crime scene.
Warnings: swearing, blood, murder, smut, biting, hair pulling, praise.
Authors note: might write about a virgin Jeff pfister soon, don't know yet(thoughts???).
Your heart was hammering against your ribs as you felt kai press your body into the brick wall behind you, his hips against yours. You and kai were currently standing in an alleyway, your clown masks abandoned on the floor beside your feet.
"You done such a good job y/n" you heard kai praise in your ear as he began to tear at your tights. Your hands were busy unbuckling kai's belt, your breath would catch whenever your hand would brush against his very noticeable and present boner.
Kai loved the sight of you covered in someone else's blood, he'd be telling lies if he said the thought of you painted with it didn't make him hard at the slight thought, and the fact that he gets to fuck you moments after you just killed someone before you could clean the blood off your skin made his hips rut up into nothing in excitement.
"I always knew you could do it y/n"
Kai's tongue licked at your jaw as his hand slid into your underwear, his cold fingers rubbed along your slit before making their way back to your clit. You hips jolted into kai's hand, the swirling sensation his fingers were giving you made your stomach feel fuzzy.
Kai's mind was running through the scene that uncovered infront of him, he remembered how your body was straddling the much taller security guard, the knife you held plunging into his chest, one stab after another. You were a godess in that moment, a woman of death and torture.
The holes you made in the guards chest were spraying blood onto your body, but that didn't stop you.
Kai's hips pushed into you as he remembered the guard had pulled a gun on him without noticing you were walking to the entrance behind him. You pulled the knife above your head and shoved it into the security guards back, before turning him around and kicking him to the floor where you continued your actions.
"K-kai"
"You're so fucking beautiful right now "
Your hands were no longer at kai's belt but infact clawing to his shoulders, digging your nails into the fabric of his coat.
Kai's left hand held your neck in a possessive manner, you could only move if he wanted you to, he watched as the fresh droplets of blood ran down your face and fell on his thumb which was caressing your cheek.
His thumb now replacing his fingers down below, kai pressed down on your clit his fingers snaking their way towards your entrance. He couldn't even try to hide the smile from his face when he felt how wet you were for him.
His eyes trailed down your body, first taking in your blood covered face and the way the red liquid would gather at your lips making him want to kiss you, then the way your panties were pulled down enough so that he could see his hand being covered in your juices, he could only imagine what it looked like to see your pussy greedily sucking in his fingers.
The pressure was building in your lower abdomen as kai's fingers worked into you, the feeling of kai swiping something off of your face made you slowly open your eyes. Kai's thumb pushed past your lips and into your mouth, the taste of blood present as his finger pressed down on your tongue rubbing the blood all over your taste buds, you almost gagged at the taste but the feeling of kai's lips hastily pressing onto yours shut that instinct down as fast as it came up.
"I'm so proud of you y/n"
Not letting you catch your breath kai kissed you again this time for longer, his tongue pushed into your mouth and began to suck on your own, groans erupted from his throat as he could taste the blood from your mouth mix in with his saliva.
Using kai's left hand, he snaked his hand up the back of your neck and grabbed a fistful of your hair at the crown of your head and harshly pulled, the kiss between you and kai broke as your head was yanked back.
Kai stared at your neck for a while, the splatters of red decorated your skin nicely and all he could say was that red was definitely your colour.
Bringing his head closer kai's tongue licked at your exposed collar bone before dragging it up your neck, the feeling of his hot tongue against your cold skin made you swallow in shock.
His tongue lazily cleaned your neck, the wet blood collecting on kai's tongue and smearing across your skin even more.
"You're so good to me y/n"
You heard kai speak and felt his hand loosen it's grip on your hair until his hand was no longer near your head. Whining from the lack of attention your mouth and pussy was getting you huff deep breaths into the cold air, the moon lighting up the sky and emptying the streets.
The sound of kai's zipper being undone rang through your ears making your eyes snap back to him, his hands were pulling down his pants and reaching into his underwear pulling out his hard cock.
You felt kai's fingers pull your panties to the side, your eyes half lidded in exhaustion.
"Always so good to me"
The tip of kai was pressing against your entrance, his hand that was once fingering you was still covered in your juices, using those same finger kai spread it all over his dick readying himself.
Kai's head buried itself into the space where your neck and shoulder connected, his lips against your skin.
"Now it's my turn"
You felt kai's teeth bite down hard into your neck as he began to push into you, it took him two thrusts, the first to slowly press into you and the second was due to the feeling of you wrapped around him. Kai's mind went blank and his hips stuttered into you on their own.
"..to..be nice to...you"
Kai's hand grasped at your hip, the other tightly holding the underside of your thigh as he lifted it up to allow himself to reach deeper into you.
You mouth snapped open and your head leaned against the wall behind you, the scratches from the bricks not bothering you, your mind busy focusing on the way kai's cock was stretching out your entrance.
Your body jumped with every thrust kai gave, his eyes were screwed shut and his mouth was busy littering deep bite markings across your neck and shoulders.
"This is all for you y/n"
He slid himself almost completely out of your pussy before slamming back in.
"Because you're such a good girl"
His hands were pushing you down onto him by your hips.
"And because you look so fucking hot "
Police sirens screeched in the background, the loud noise getting closer and closer to the alleyway you and kai were stationed in. The blue and red lights lit up the dark sky, your head turned to the side and caught a glimpse of the bricks you were currently pushed up against changing colours, blue to red then back to blue.
You couldn't speak as kai's hand reached back down to your clit, this time rubbing in fast circles whilst pounding into you. This action caused you to let out a wail of pleasure.
"You feel amazing"
Your hand made its way into kai's hair, this time you were the one pulling at his strands harshly, this released some groans from kai as his thrusts became harder and deeper, everytime he would bottom out into you he would grind his hips onto you.
"Do you know how fucking good you looked stabbing him"
Using his other hand kai desperately grabbed at you tits through your clothes, his hand would harshly grab onto your flesh under the layers of clothing and squeeze gaining a whine from you in pain and pleasure.
"I want to see you do it again"
The voices of the police officers and orders coming through their radios grew louder, the thump of car doors being slammed shut echoed throughout the empty night.
"K-kai..people"
You tried to resist the ecstacy of kai's fingers rubbing against your most sensitive part and began to tap the back of his head and neck, warning him that the police could catch and arrest them.
"Just let me award you y/n"
You heard kai whisper into your ear, his tongue licked the shell of your ear then prodded at the hole before latching his teeth onto your earlobe.
"You deserve it"
You were biting your lip to keep the moans caused by kai sealed, the chance of you getting caught covered in blood with kai's dick shoved into you made you shiver in anxiety.
Your nails began to dig into the skin of kai's neck as your heart was pounding against the shell of your ribs, your back was arched pushing your front against kai's tensed stomach, your skin was covered in a light layer of sweat even though the air around you was cold.
Kai kissed you harshly, the taste of blood was no longer present in your mouth, by this time most of the blood had dried into your skin. Your lips were sore to touch as kai was biting down on them during the kiss.
You and kai were both very close.
His hips began to shake with every thrust into you, his pace fastened and moans began to leave kai's throat, the sound making you lean closer and closer to your orgasm.
The band in your stomach was tightening, ready to snap any moment.
"We got a possibly dead victim, bring out an ambulance "
Kai looked straight into your eyes
"Look at me"
The light slapping on your cheek made you unscrew your eyes and lazily look back at kai.
"Promise me you'll do it again"
Your mouth hung open, the feeling of kai's dick shoving itself into your pussy, dragging itself against your tight walls made your hips roll against kai's.
"Promise me y/n"
Before you could answer the knot in your stomach broke, kai's harsh thrusting finally pushed you over the edge, an animalistic moan left your throat as your eyes clamped shut. The feeling of you tightening around kai's cock made his eyes almost roll to the back of his head.
A few more thrusts was what kai could take before snapping his hips into you one last time and spilling his cum into you. You were already coming down fro your high and the feeling of being filled up by kai made another whine escape your lips.
You both stood there for a while, kai's now soft dick still inside you as his head rested against your heaving chest, his hips would roll into a couple of times as he himself was coming down from his orgasm.
Your shaky hand ran itself through kai's hair, you could feel his hot breath fanning onto your collar bones.
Finally pulling himself out of you kai shoved his dick back into his underwear pulling up his pants and redoing his belt. Your knees buckled a little when you stood up without the support of kai's body against yours.
You slowly shimmeyed your underwear to fully cover you again and pulled up your now loose tights, completely ignoring the large tears in the crotch area.
Kai's hand reached out to your hair, smoothing down the fly-aways .
"I always believed in you y/n"
#ahs#ahs smut#ahs cult#american horror story cult#ahs cult smut#american uorror story cult smut#kai anderson#kai anderson smut#ahs kai anderson#kai anderson x reader#evan peters#evan peters x reader#evan peters smut
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CYBERSEX! - A DIRTY FANFICTION OF OBEY ME
“we do it the best….when we have cybersex”
Pairing : Mammon x fem reader
Warning: pure smut, jerking off, stranger to fuck, squirting, fingering, praising, encouragement, provocation
Note before reading: Mammon and MC are both stranger, they don’t know each other. Nada! No student exchange lore stuff!
Author note: HELLO GUYS I AM BACK. ITS MY BIRTHDAY TODAY SO I GAVE YALL A PRESENT *muah* I’m giving a google form at the end of the story for birthday wishes because I am a slut for attention <3
6:30PM
“Well! Ya prolly needa learn a thing or two about patience!”
“Says someone who stole my food!”
Mammon and Beelzebub had their mouths throwing words of condemnation as Lucifer stood between his two brothers, squeezing his nose bridge as he sighed in frustration. His shoes tapping the kitchen’s concrete floor, his other hand latching to his waist.
Satan and Asmodeus jumped to the crime scene, watching the heated arguments boiled tense inside the cookplace that had been destroyed in half by the orange beast. Beelzebub's wavering form trembled due to his struggle of not furthering any harm in the place.
Plus, he knew Lucifer would not tolerate far more ruckus.
“Listen, Mammon. Have you ever learned not to steal?” Lucifer growled with vapour hints to threaten him further. His crimson eyes flashed as he looked at Mammon.
The frosty haired demon stutters, finding his first brother’s glare as the second stage of his anger. “W-well! It's not stealing! I’m hungry! Aren’t we all family? We share things! That's what a family is!” Shouted the guy, constructing his reason well and brilliantly to trigger Lucifer’s weak spot by mentioning the words ‘family’. He knew that his sadistic brother would find his arguments logical. If anyone in this mansion understands how family works, Lucifer is the top so to speak.
Satan hummed cunningly, a devilish smirk painted his expression. “Mammon is dumb, but he even thinks his way to escape from Lucifer’s rage..”
Asmodeus crossed his arms to his chest, sighing awkwardly as his eyes stayed still to the spotlight of the show. “Maybe he could use that mind before eating Beel’s pudding…”
Having Lucifer’s eyes on Mammon did make the second born restless, but what was even more threatening was the way Beelzebub looked behind his first obstacle. Two beasts in front of him. One with sensible rage and the other just destroyed half of the kitchen because of a pack of convenience store bought custard.
Lucifer was back to rub his temple, while the hungry beast barked more and more insults and threats to Mammon that it was surprising to know how much of curse words the sixth born demon possesed.
“That’s it. You two. You are both grounded in your room for two days!” Lucifer confessed as he yelled, asserting dominance from Beelzebub ear-scratching abusive words. His hand stopped rubbing his forehead and both crossing to his chest, puffing up and confident with his punishments towards the two of his brothers.
Mammon clicked his tongue, hated the way he had to spend 48 hours inside his boring, luxurious room. It had nothing that could satisfy his sins. Sure, there was a big screen for the ultimate experience of watching movies, a pool, a personal computer set, etcetera..but all of it was a temporary experience of happiness. Plus, his favourite casino will be landing at the travelling carnival! He couldn’t possibly miss it! That casino changes their locations every week to blur the eyes of authorities, and keeping up with their route is exhausting.
“Why are ya punishin’ me like imma five years old?!” Mammon's accents thickened as well as his rebelliousness. Still not trying to lose the arguments that was clearly his fault to begin with. His yellow sunglasses properly to his face, meaning he actually planned to go out after eating the custards. Lucifer’s mind figured it out. Otherwise, Mammon would have just retreat and go to his room without being too defensive about it.
“Why? Are you planning to go anywhere?” Mammon’s upper brother asked, and for some reason did the chocolate skinned demon feel like he was a small statue. Lucifer cannot know about the casino. “If you feel like my punishment to you is lenient, I can put more rocks in your bag” stated him. Poetically, Lucifer means to put a heavier burden on Mammon’s body.
That made Mammon instantly react with fast head shakes. Satan smiled curtly and whispered to the interested Asmodeus. “His head is going to fall off”
“That’s more like it” Lucifer calmly says as he walks towards the kitchen’s exit. He eyed the two observant with no words, but Satan quickly grasped the order. The blonde sighed and muttered an agreement. “Yeah, yeah. I know a great contractor. I will ask him to fix this…”
Finding Satan's quick capture of his sign a relief, Lucifer’s nod sternly.
“And as for you two troublemakers. Go to your room. Now”
9:45 PM
“Graah! That ol’ man must be thinkin’ with his goddamn dick to put me ‘n here”
Laying on the bed with no motivation to complete any schoolwork ahead, Mammon positioned himself where his whole body starfishing his king-sized bed while his head hung low at the edge of it. Never minding the cold inside his bedroom, Mammon’s body latched with a thin white fabric called ‘singlet’ and paired it with his black shorts.
When the greedy Mammon gets uneasy and agitated, his thick accent surfaced, making people wonder if he was raised in the countryside. Lucifer had trained him well to suppress his style, but even the second, most powerful demons could slip from time to time.
Frustrated by the fact that his favourite casino is probably having all sorts of beauty over, the confined demon spit to the ground, but never really shoots his saliva out. “Curse ‘ya! Curse every second one of ‘ya!” He whined, tossing all the blankets and pillows away to the wall.
As the grousing subsided, Mammon finally sighs his defeat. “Curse ‘em? More like a curse on me…”
His feet touching together as he sat on the bed, both finger toes intertwining out of boredom when the out of blue message lit up his brand new phone. Mammon lazily plugged his phone off from the cable, and opened to see the texts
Bro levi : yo
Bro levi : should hv not ate that custard
Bro levi : *laughing sticker*
Mammon’s eyes glared disgustingly towards Leviathan’s provoking message. Being stuck in the room for two days is a thing, but to miss out on the opportunity to gamble is another crucial reason to be pissed off. Topped with his otaku-headed brother's unnecessary remarks, Mammon decided not to push his button further. Putting his phone down, the mocha tinted demon retreated.
Bro levi : yo
Bro levi : should hv not ate that custard
Bro levi : *laughing sticker*
Mammon : ✅✅ seen
And as he thought that ignoring his brother’s snarky remarks would help Leviathan to shut up, another notification came through
Bro levi : seen?
Bro levi : ight sorry kay
Bro levi : boot up your pc. Lets match
He let out a low growl.
Mammon : not feelin it
Mammon : ya winnin’ anyway
As five seconds passed, his brother quick to reply
Bro levi : aw man
Bro levi : pussy
Mammon’s fingers typed hurriedly
Mammon : a pussy wont eat Beel’s custard
He set the phone aside, watching his ceiling with a heavy heart. If he agreed to play games with Leviathan it would just be another frustrating event.
DING
Bro levi : mkay
Bro levi : i know you are lonely and all
Bro levi : but usually when I’m bored I go here
Bro levi : *send a link*
Bro levi : it's pairing you with random people on the internet. But be mindful that you can come across humans so don’t really act like a fucking demon
And so on, the notifications kept popping up from Mammon’s device, making him one step away from tossing it away just like the fate of his pillows. Yet, how dare he do such a thing? It is a brand new phone that he had shown off for a week to his brothers, and one of them is betting that he can’t take care of it. He intends to prove the cunning Satan of his wrong assumptions.
“Ya fuckin turd I already told ya I dont wanna any ma—“
His voice stuck to his throat when he realised Leviathan was not trying to convince him to match, but instead recommending a sketchy website to kill his boredom off. Mammon blinked once, twice, triple, quadruple and so on. His mind contemplates his brother's sudden kindness that is definitely uncomfortable. The dominant hand of his stretched the thumb to the link, ready to press it yet still trembled ever so slightly.
“Fuck ya if ya scammin’ me”
He clicked on the link, and a big banner popped on the screen of his smartphone
“FOR BEST EXPERIENCE, PLEASE USE YOUR DESKTOP. CONTINUE?”
Mammon clicked his tongue. The first impression he had with this page was ‘annoying and complicated’. Yet still he crawled down his bed, bare footed as he walked on the carpet floor of his bedroom. Curiosity and indignation mixed together when he reached his personal computer set, which was built by Leviathan himself. From branded CPU to the highest quality of face camera, all was like a professional gaming set picked by the master’s selection. The first time Leviathan set this up, Mammon was drooling and spent nearly ten hours battling online.
He grabbed his gaming leather chair, turned it around as he dove his bottom to the seat, moaning in pleasure at the way it supported his spine. His slim finger pushed certains buttons as the computer booted up, and it does not take long for it to be completely accessible.
“Now let's see…” he murmured, grabbing the wireless mouse with his right hand, and supporting his chin with the left one. His silver rings stacked gorgeously to his slender digits. As he opened the browser, Mammon’s left pinky brushed his lips, teasing his own opening.
Copy pasted the link to his computer, the site quickly unveiled. Revealing a black and gold themed colour as there was a message of permission greeting the demon’s quick eyes.
“THIS SITE REQUIRE THE ACCESS OF YOUR FACE CAM AND MICROPHONE.”
“GRANT THE PERMISSION?”
[] yes
[] No
Another sound of tongue clicking softly emits from Mammon’s lips. “Too many requirements. This better be worth some time”
“GRANT THE PERMISSION?”
[^] yes
[] No
Mammon jumped from his seat lightly as a live recording of him appeared to the left side of the website, while the chatting box was at the bottom. The empty square at the left side of his footage was empty. He stared to himself, biting his lips as the live recording of him mimics the very same action.
“Goddamn I look hot!” He cheered. Admiring his own beauty under the scope of a hundred grimms face camera. The button ‘start’ waits patiently for him to click, and for some reason Mammon finds the toggle even more appealing than his reflection on the screen. When his right hand landed back to the wireless mouse, he angled it there, but fingers hesitantly clicked to the mouse.
The other square box buffered slowly.
For references:
Fullscreen mode:
10:15 PM
“Fuck ya dickhead!”
He clicked the skipped button as soon as he finished off his curse. Mammon buried his head to his palm as the next pair was still buffering. For the past 35 minutes, all he had ever done was cursing out to impertinent fools he met. Some of them were by groups, some were solo and some were indecent kids biting his head off through offensive words of insults.
“Not fun at all! What the fuck!” His teeth greeted, raging chagrined dwell in him for trusting Leviathan. The man laid his back more, making the backrest recline in a jot as he manspread and both of his limbs cover his face. For once did Mammon find himself wanting to go all out with his rage, turning the mansion into dust. But as if it will gain another entertainment, sure not.
Grabbing his charged up phone, he pressed Leviathan’s contact number and use the tiny bits of grain left in his soul to patiently wait for his violet haired brother to pick up. His other hand rests onto the armrest, tapping all of his fingers like a wave, over and over until the coarse voice of his brother’s hail.
Leviathan : yo
Mammon : you dumbshit everyone here kept pulverising me
On the other line, Leviathan laughed his heart out, adding the fuel to the burning flames when he decided to blame Mammon for his lack of control in social skills. If it were up to Mammon's desire, he would throw bullets to Leviathan’s mean remarks. But in all honesty he needs to admit, he is kind of sick to have more fights today. His impatience towards the strangers online scaled up, just a push away for him to rebel against his own sensibility. Mammon groaned with each of Leviathan sarcastic comments, but never letting his mind speak of its own.
The devil wished for his God to send him a life saver, and the faint sound of the bell from the site blazed his speaker.
DING
Quickly reacting to the noise, Mammon’s eyes darted to the random pair that the site had just matched him with. His phone is still on the line with Leviathan who was still spouting disrespectful jokes. Tightening his grip to the device when he realises that this stranger stupefies him, to the point he almost loosen his hold for the phone, Mammon can’t believe that God had answered his prayer in a whip of a second.
“Yo bro be right back” Mammon speaks softly but enough for Leviathan to hear it through the phone as the hot-blooded demon hanged up. He kept his legs in the same position, manspreading to look uninterested. Mammon’s fibrous inner thigh exposed as his shorts wrinkled up when he adjusted his position.
“S—sup”
Right on the screen shows a woman’s figure, sitting tightly to a normal chair. Mammon's assumption about her was that she is accessing the website on a normal laptop. No fancy camera or a computer setup, her face dismayed, her lips matched the colour of blood. Her hair brushed, and her upper body…tantalising him. She was wearing a black negligee, the lace upon the breast side aroused Mammon’s fantasy. It’s as if the dirty thoughts played like a river. ‘What is it like if the lace is off?’ ‘I can see her nipples, but not entirely. Is it her nipple there? Or was it just my eyes? No. That’s definitely her nipple. God, if that’s really her nipple…’
He swallowed a lump, trying his best not to let himself overtaken by just a teasing sight. The woman did not reply verbally as she was muted, but her arms quick to the keyboard as a message appear in the chat box
Stranger : hi
Mammon’s head did not move, only his eyeball reacted to the pop up chat. He nods slowly as if telling the woman he is engaging in this conversation.
By any means will he not let her skip him.
“S—so, what’s uh, your name?”
The girl eye’s unwavering to her own laptop screen, then a small smirk curt on her lips as she brings her fingers to her mouth, gently nudging it as she typed with one hand.
Stranger : y/n
Discovering her name somewhat triggered Mammon’s pheromones. He barely even understands himself now. It was just a name, and why is his dick raging to get out of his pants? His eyes constantly searched for a focus point that could turn his attention away from her body.
“Yeah, s—so, whatcha doin’ here?” Even though Mammon hated the battlefield he was now with his own arousal, most part of him never wanted to leave the conversation. He wanted to see how far things could go. Y/n apropos dress must have come with amiss intent.
Though muted, the woman’s grin bared her teeth, and Mammon could feel a laughter come through. He gulped again, his Adam's apple betrayed his pokered face. The way it moves when Mammon swallows his dirty thoughts away caught y/n’s nippy eyes. Her hand moved to the mousepad instead of keyboard, clicking to the microphone button as she unmuted herself.
“I can feel like we are going to go for the voice more” she eyes Mammon’s body response that was twitching discreetly on the camera. A mischievous smirk plastered on her face, amused by the result of her own seduction. For an innocent lad, her statement seemed like nothing. But y/n could see the salacious behind Mammon’s expression. Besides, Mammon was the first stranger she got paired with tonight, and he was perfectly suited to be her midnight entertainment .
Meanwhile for the try-hard demon, his stomach felt as if there was a knot that was just being formed, and her loose shorts started to expose his bulge.
‘Shit! The heck!’
Mammon straightens his back, trying to angle himself where his bulge can’t be recorded on the camera. His feet to the ground, scooting himself to the desk where his lap was covered underneath it. He cleared his throat for a hope to avert her attention away to his body language. But all y/n had in her mind right now was to toy the flustered stranger on her screen.
“You good?” Her voice came through, and Mammon flinched subtly that y/n couldn’t catch. Her negligee strips fell down teasingly from her shoulder, which provoked Mammon’s reaction.
Both arms to the armrest while his palm clutched, Mammon let out an awkward laugh. His eyes turned away to the screen, but occasionally back to look at y/n left shoulder that had its strip fall off.
“Look, ya shouldn’t dress like that” he advised, words by words were lies. The more he stayed in the room, the more his chest felt impaled by his struggles to breath normally. In this state, Mammon felt like time had stopped, and everything outside had not enticed the rebellious demon. All he wanted was to stay in this very room, with this woman named y/n, and let his imagination run wild.
“Says the one who got excited by it” y/n snarky response caught him off guard. He had try his best to show the untruth of his desire, and yet she figured it out as if he was a transparent being.
“Huh?” He fluffed his way out but the way y/n blasphemously curled her lips hindered himself to stay under control. Sweat had trickled from his neck. His stomach feels like a thousand tied ropes. The rim of his shorts burn his waist, plague to not tossing it away.
For y/n, she didn’t care. With more tingling sensations down her wetness, she made sure to whimper between every word “Oh come on, tough guy. I know why you hide your lap.”
Y/n eyes lowered, though through the screen, Mammon realised she was eyeing his crotch that was blocked by the desk.
“Shit. Ya fucker”
He damned her. There was no point to bandage the situation now. The woman definitely aimed to be a vixen on this site. Mammon wasn’t hallucinating things, he finally grasped that she reciprocated to his desire as well. Growling while his lips shut together, Mammon bites his lower lips, pushing himself as the chair moves away from his setup, revealing the full picture of his body once again.
Y/n’s eyes eagerly aimed to the centre of Mammon’s leg. Watching the way his cock tensed hard underneath his loose short. She gulped her excitement, grabbing a pillow near her as she sat on it. Under the provoking lingerie she wore, it had nothing beside the thin layer of negligee wrapped loosely to her body. Y/n straddle her pillow, making sure she could feel her sensitive clit jolted as she slowly rocks her hips, moaning softly while maintaining to watch Mammon’s hard bulge quivered underneath the fabric.
“Oh fuckin’ naughty. I was tryin so hard to hide. Thought ya too pretty to not creep ya out” he confessed, muttering softly but enough for y/n to hear. Leaning more to his gaming chair, Mammon spread his legs, his nipples perked through his white singlet as his right hand softly stroked his clothed dick. Veins rose on his hand proving the sexual frustration he gets, watching the show y/n presented to him.
“Lower ya laptop a bit, lemme see those fuckin’ thigh in action” Mammon command with no shame. His hand abandoned his frisson tent and made its way to the end of his singlet. His actions were rough, yet somehow addictive to witness. He undressed his top, showing off the muscle on his abdomen. Mammon’s broad chest is clean and clear, but even with the naked eyes that y/n can spot the glisten of his sweat. His dark nipples erected, and so does his clothed shaft.
Her curse was indistinct when Mammon threw his top to the floor. Sinful womanly eyes caught the v-shaped line at the lower part that Mammon had teasingly showed. He proudly exhibits the happy trail, but covers the end of it as to let her imagination undress his crotch. Y/n lowered her laptop screen a bit, where the sight of her hips humping rhythmically with the man’s stroking game visible entirely on her camera, but Mammon still can see her face. God damn it, this girl knew well how to angle the camera.
Y/n’s clit stroked as she moved back and forth, feeling the dry fabric gradually wet from her own coat. “Hnn…” she mewled to Mammon through the screen, still looking arousingly to the demon’s bulge.
“Fuck yes. So hot…” Mammon turns to sough as he caught the action smoother when she adjusted the camera for a premium view.
“Shit my fucking cock can’t hold it anymore”
His large hand grabbed the rim of his shorts, pulling it down with such intensity as the faint sound of teared fabric entered y/n’s laptop speaker. Unlike the top, Mammon threw his shorts away from the camera sight, his cock sprung out, tensed proudly like a tower with throbbed veins spiralling around his dick. He smirks while y/n’s humping gets aggressive as soon as she sees Mammon’s cock, ready to be pumped until his sack is empty.
He caressed the skin of his shaft in brutal motion, and the new moan that escaped his mouth was totally different from when he just rubbed it through the clothes. “Oh sh—, yes girl….” He groaned. “Shit…take off your clothes, let me see your body”
Y/n stopped, nodding and obeying him not because she felt like it was a command, but to thank the stranger for his beautiful nude, and she figured to reciprocate it as a gift. Her hand both reached for the end of her nightwear and disrobe it with a faint tingle of embarrassment. Y/n had never done this to a complete stranger, but her stressed out day changed her mind. After all, everything had its first time.
Y/n breast jumped out as she bared, tossing her negligee away. Hand cupped around her breast, kneading it softly in front of the Mammon through the cybersex they had. Her nipples erected as well, and she still didn’t stop to hump. “Mmm, I want you to touch me so bad…” she provoked, but it was not a lie. “Your hand seems strong, I want it to squeeze my boobs until it's red” she moaned, adding more intensity as she rammed her breast sensually.
“I fuck ya tits until its all swollen, cum on it and suck until I fuckin’ suffocate” he expressed his desire, pupils dilated as he saw her pussy lips glide back and forth to the pillow. “Fuck…fuck…” he muttered, hand still stroking his cock like a frustrated virgin. His legs twitched, and his breathing danced in ragged rhythms.
Y/n paused her action, her pussy cutting the contact with the pillow. The sticky liquid caught clear on the camera as y/n grabbed the pillow to her mouth, licking the wet spot she had just fiercely humped. Her tongue nudged her own liquid, then she entirely licked her own taste. “Mm— you want to taste me don’t you…?”.Y/n threw the pillow to the side, spreading her legs in front of the camera.
Mammon swore that he could feel his dick get bricked up more, precum spill out from his cock hole as he pumped his dick harder. His mouth parted while his eyes half closed but still could see the bared pussy on his computer screen crystal clear. Y/n ran her finger to the slit of her pussy, her hole quiveringly contracts, driving Mammon’s to the edge of his climax.
“Fuck wait”
Still jerking himself off, his other hand grabbed the wireless mouse, aimed for the fullscreen button as he clicked it. When y/n’s folds dominate his entire screen, Mammon leaned against his gaming chair further, hand still pleasing his cock, tightening his grip to match the sensation of her hole. “That’s more like it…” he sighed as his other hand released the mouse, making its way to his own chest.
“I kinda want your mouth sucking my nipple…” Mammon spoke with a quivering tone, his hands rolled between his tensed nipple as he pinched it. “Aack…! Yes…!” He whimpered, eyes closed for a moment while his cock was near to the end. “Shove three fingers inside your pussy dear…” he pleaded, eyes showing nothing but a pure slutty soul. “Please ... .I wanna cum by seeing your pussy hole fingered…”
Y/n had her hesitation thrown in the garbage, and she quickly reacted to Mammon’s pleas. “I wanna see you cum so hard too…” the woman responded. Three digits seemed like a lot, she had only fingered herself with two, she isn’t entirely sure if she can perform well in three. But her determination to see the male’s semen shoot out from his needy cock because of her action excites y/n further.
With two fingers, y/n nudges her hole, tracing the small circle of the wet tunnel of her pussy before shoving it slowly as she squeals. “Hhng…” cried her.
“Come on dear, I know you can do it…” he encouraged as the pace of her stroke became slower, keeping his orgasm when the woman’s finger was all in. Y/n took another whiff of boldness breath, now with three fingers, she circled her pussy, teasing her hole, making it ready to be stretched with new digits.
“A—ah…I’m…doing it…” mewling as she jerks, the three of her brazen finger shoved slowly inside her pussy, stretching it tightly around her as she unhurriedly fingers herself. “L—look….hhn…it’s….it’s in….f—fuck…” talking in a messy breathing, y/n tried to keep up with Mammon’s instructions.
“Oh fuck yeah, good girl…” Mammon watched her rhythm, realising she’s matching his steady stroke on his own cock. Mammon fastened the pace, gripping it so hard that he could feel as if his cock could just latch off his groin.
As Mammon expected, y/n reciprocated the tempo, his finger curled to her g-spot, rubbing it with aggression as she moaned loudly, unexpectedly squirting herself to the camera.
Mammon’s eyes darken, witnessing the way her fluid slipped off her fingers, shooting it to the camera as well as wetting it too. “A squirter?….I’m so lucky tonight…” he whispered with a shaking vibrato, face scrunched as he felt his stomach ready to untie the knot, all because of y/n sudden squirt that he thought he couldn't last any longer.
“I’m….cumming…! Goddamn… fuck..! I’m so near baby..!” His whimpering words were like a desperate man. His inner thigh bricken, spasm as he threw his head to the back, and then returned to watch the homemade porn on his computer screen.
“Me…too….one more…squirt…” she replied in an instant, her tone matched Mammon’s needy voice.
“Moan my name baby. Moan my name…it's Mammon…”
“M—mammon….cum…let’s cum together…let me see your cock shoot that fucking load on your stomach…”
Mammon nodded eagerly, eyes teared from an extreme palpitation his heart had beat. “Ah…oh yes…! Shit…!”
She shoved her fingers harder, the mattress of her bed pooled with her love liquid. Y/n threw her head to the back before crying out her orgasm away as she squirted once more to the camera. “Mammon….! Nnngh Mammon…!”
Mammon heard his name being called in the sweet tone of sultry as his cum shot to his abdomen, painting his mocha skin to white as he pumped it until it’s all gone and done. He breathed like an inexperienced being, the broad chest puffed and flattened. As the load slowly jizzed out from his cock, he let go of his tired cock, letting it rest onto his stomach as he looked at y/n who was already falling to the bed, legs wide open with her mattress soaked from her orgasm.
“Hh…hh…” trying to catch his breath back to normal, Mammon let out another desire he had held back since.
“Y/n gimme your number”
Author note : hellloo!! How was it hehe! As I said, today is my birthday and I made a google form for you to fill it out with wishes! You can even ask me questions and I will answer it on my next post! Aren’t I seemed like an obnoxious brat that wants attention?! Hehehe!
Please fill it out! I love you guys!
#obey me shall we date#obey me#obey me!#obey me prompts#obey me smut#mammon obey me#om! mammon#mammonobeyme#mammon smut#mammon avatar of greed#mammon x reader#shall we date mammon#obey me mammon#mammon x you#o
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last child - Leon Kennedy/Reader
read it on Ao3.
Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader
Tags: more domestic fluff with leon, a touch of angst over leon's scars, passing mentions of drinking, leon being a fucking cheeseball, leon's obscenely handsome back.
Words: ~3k
Notes: hiiiiii. thank you all so much for you kind comments on the first drabble in this lil collection, i have never felt so inspired!! thus, here's more romantic bullshit with the guy. i'm thinking these will all exist within the same vague universe with detective!reader and husband!leon, especially because you guys gave me some very interesting ideas for him. this drabble in particular was inspired by emrurow, who suggested: "leon def has a whole package of scars from his missions and just imagine this scene where the reader is like gently caressing them and kissing them and its just so fluffly and sweet and vulnerable at the same time.........aghhhh."
AGREED. now combine that with my strange urge to hose this bitch down with sunscreen. i hope you like the direction i took for this! enjoy <3
“Vacation” is a funny word in the Kennedy world.
When your work-buddies at the precinct bring up their vacations, it’s always a trip with the kids that’s months in the making, or summer getaways with the missus they’ve requested time off for. Always in the States and always planned ahead. The big joke in the bullpen is that the officer with the most cases closed this year will win a dazzling trip to Greece—but Leon has been to Greece, and he claims it’s pretty boring.
You think you’d find Greece pretty boring, too, if you spent the whole time there crawling around in the mud and hiding under enemy tanks.
So, no Greece for you. Vacations in the Kennedy world look more like this: Leon is cleared to go home, he somehow gets hold of your ever-shifting work schedule, becomes possessed with the urge to throw himself at the closest idea of “relaxing,” and springs it on you as a very romantic surprise. No elaborate itineraries. No plan. Just whatever consensus the two of you come to in the car, partners-in-crime escaping into the wind.
“So… Vegas?” You joke, slipping your key into the ignition of Leon’s precious Lamborghini Miura. So precious to him, in fact, that he avoids driving it at every opportunity.
The second he sags down into the passenger’s seat, your husband spams the recline button until he’s near-horizontal. The hand not cradling an ice pack over his nasty black eye curls loose around your elbow.
He scoffs, winking open his good eye at you. “With my luck?”
“Ooh, right. Bad idea then.”
Yeah. His track record with cars alone was impressive—he’d busted open two in the first year you’d been married, and you’ve been chauffeuring him ever since. Somehow, you don’t think Leon and casinos would mix.
You can’t resist the urge to pet his poor knuckles. These, too, were banged up. After a beat of the two of you filing through all of your available escape plans, you break the pensive bubble in the car by sweetly kissing his bruise-mottled hand. “Mwah. Where do you want to be right now, baby? Let me take you there.”
Leon’s head had lolled to face yours, and for the millionth time since Racoon you’re struck by how bone-tired he always seems. He rasps with a tasteful touch of patheticness, “I want a cold beer and I wanna be outside. Wanna see you in a swimsuit, too.”
As straight-forward as a chainsaw, this guy. Hm. Your brows flick up at the picture he paints for you, and you lean right up to his face so Leon can see how unimpressed you are. “Do you want a sandwich, too, Mr. Kennedy? Maybe some—”
You go quiet even before Leon lays a kiss on you. It’s his hand that does it, long-fingered and twisted with damage, guiding you closer with enough painful tenderness to make a mote of sand feel special. Uhm. What had you been saying? You’d been talking, but… The touch wasn’t a little tap for you to tilt your head up, no—it’s just on the right side of needy, the heavy pads of his fingertips dimpling your jaw so he can pull you down to kiss him. Happiness tastes like spearmint gum.
You part with a soft wet sound. Leon licks his lip and smiles, “No. Just wanna be with you.”
Well, the best place to be with him that involved cold beer, the grand outdoors, and one of your swimsuits was the lakehouse he owned up in Philly. The fact that he agreed to go there was truly a testament to how desperate he was to relax. The lakehouse wasn’t like his Lamborghini, your Prada sandals, or the boat bobbing in the marina back in DC—it was a family heirloom. One last relic of the old Kennedy money he never talked about. The most Leon had ever said about his inheritance was that it was “dirty,” and you don’t think he meant in the messy way.
Your husband’s secretive past aside, the memories you’d made here together were sun-warm and golden. If you were looking to make some extra money on the side, you think you’d offer up the place to the film crew of some wholesome coming-of-age movie. It was stupidly gorgeous. On a sunny afternoon like this one, the water was one horizon-wide mirror, making the whole day twice as sky-blue and shimmering. A pine-y breeze cooled the drying water on your back and fluttered through the heavy, low-slung trees reaching for passing paddle-boats. Hanging over the whole thing was Leon’s personal slice of the Appalachian mountains. He never said much about the house itself, but his childhood hiking the trails was free game.
Leon has a knack for escaping. He’s not nearly as good at vacationing. Lucky for him, you wrote the goddamn manual.
Your husband lays his chin on his folded arms and peers at you over his shoulder. “Like this?”
From where you’re standing rooted to the weathered wood of your jetty, Leon is a fucking vision. He lays out in the sun on his belly, lazy tomcat limbs loose and pliant on the dock. All you can make out of his face is the white, knife-straight scar on his chin, hidden by a feathery curtain of angel blonde hair. Even the tacky palm tree beach towel he’s laying on suits him.
…It takes you a second to answer, cause, yeah. Yes. That’s… wow. Holy shit.
“...Dear?”
How can one word gush with so much smugness? Hoo, boy. He was a baby, honey, sweetheart guy. Not dear. For that, you slip off one of your foam flip-flops to smack him or something—but, of course, Leon swats it aside without looking.
The innocent little shoe almost goes spiraling into the water lapping at the dock, but bumps into your cooler instead. A fishing boat just a few leagues out has arena rock radio on full blast. One of Leon’s hands taps out the drums for Hot for Teacher.
“Shut up.” You puff a strand of hair out of your face. “Is that really how you’re gonna talk to the person single-handedly saving you from sun-damage?”
“Haven’t saved me yet,” he gives a pointed wiggle of his poor, sunscreen-less shoulders.
As rebellious as you’re feeling, you do as told. He’s impossible to resist like this. Well, he’s upsettingly dreamy in any situation, but he’s at his worst when he’s all lazy and languid for you after too long apart.
“Let’s fix that,” you say, and uncap your tube of SPF 50.
Leon’s face drops back into his folded arms. You pad around his body on the towel, careful not to step on him as you take your usual seat on the small of his back. It’s then that the gravity of your task hits you. Why the fuck are his elbows attractive?
Bigger question: how are you going to survive the next fifteen minutes? It had been you in the skincare aisle this morning. Hell, your hand had gone for the lotion sunscreen over the spray sunscreen for a reason. In that moment, you knew how your decision would butterfly into the future, and that no matter what you would always end up here, staring down the gorgeous swath of Leon’s bare back. Un-sunscreened. Needing you to touch him. Ugh.
“My eyes are up here,” Leon remarks at your silence.
Your other flip-flop dings off his shoulder with a satisfying bounce.
“...I let that happen.”
You don’t doubt that he did, but it feels good to tease him.
Burdened by the consequences of your actions, you slump forwards on top of him. He’s dinged up even back here, and there are strange, yellowing bruises patching around his shoulder-blades that you stoop to kiss. You understand why he only has the energy to lay flat on a towel like a fish. It looks painful, and not for the first time in your life you’re overwhelmed by the need to take care of him.
…He has single-handedly set feminism back at least thirty years.
Well. Dammit. You glare down at your husband’s stupid, beautiful back muscles. “I do this because I love you very much. Not because I feel obligated to as your wife, or cause’ of any societal expectations. Just because of you.”
Leon, still running on a dead battery, gives you a confident salute. You imagine eagles cawing overhead. “Yes, ma’am.”
Another loss for feminism: that gets a big, giddy laugh out of you. Maybe you just missed him, but his sleepy jokes are hitting the mark even more than usual. You’re still peeling with giggles as you drop a big dollop of sunscreen into your hand, and they don’t die down until you’ve spread it between your palms and begun to spread it out over his shoulders.
The tips of his ears have gone red. He warmly mutters, “Love that sound.”
Since it’s not every day that you get to indulge in your husband’s back, you take your time. He lets out a long breath when the cold cream meets his sun-warm skin, and in that one sound you hear weeks of pent-up tension already melting away. Leon has always seemed unstoppable to you. Even in his wiry rookie days, when you never would’ve called him wiry at all, he felt like he could plow through anything on a wave of willpower and spite. Now, that relentlessness has become physical. He’s plump with muscle all over. His back especially, so much of his weight as taut and ready-to-go as a bull on the charge.
Or, in less words: he’s built like a brick shithouse.
But he is still, at his core, the not-wiry-yet-wiry rookie you loved. When you accidentally press into a new bruise, he makes a soft wincing sound through his teeth.
“Sorry, baby,” you utter.
From then on, your touches go feather-light. You fan your palms down his slim waist and make sure his freckly shoulders get good coverage. For a while, the thoughts in your mind go somewhere far away and shapeless, focussed only on the task at hand. But the sunscreen makes his skin so shiny that all the little details catch more highlights than usual, and you realize, with a rising sense of discomfort, that all the things you aren’t allowed to know about him are laid out in front of you. There are loads of scars on your husband’s back that you don’t even recognise anymore.
The old ones are the ones you know. Most of them are nothing more than thin, pale discolorations now, just distinct enough to make out from memory. In a fucked up way, it’s fascinating: there is a sad old scar on the back of your hand from Raccoon, and when it passes over a similar jagged cut on Leon’s ribs, the two have aged together. But while you’ve gained only a few odd scrapes or dings being a detective in DC, Leon’s body is a whole new story.
They are not the neat, decorational scars an artist might accessorize a figure with. It’s all ugly, in inconvenient places that layer over one another, quick swipes, deep gouges, shallow bullet wounds, shredded lacerations, and more you don’t even have words for. Your heart plummets into your gut. You’ve seen these scars on him when they were still fresh bandages, but it only dawns on you now, stepping back to look at the full picture, just how many he has.
You swallow hard. “I’m so glad you’re home. Did I tell you that?”
Leon hums a yes, but it’s a dragged out, suspicious sound. He’s quick to sus you out. Nobody in the world can read you better.
You’re shooed off his back with a hand, and when he lumbers off his belly to sit up and face you, the sliver of black-eye you catch underneath his ice pack cuts you deep. He hasn’t opened his free arm for a whole second before you’re darting underneath it, his body tacky with sunscreen where it melds with yours. Your finger swirls around the oldest bullet-scar on his arm.
Leon takes a slow pull from his beer, squishing your face a little where it’s tucked against his shoulder. The bottle taps against the dock. Tink. Always, always, he has to joke with you first. “You’re making your worried face. Stop thinking.”
Your voice is muffled by his shoulder. “You can’t even see my worried face.”
“Then you’re making your worried silence.” Disappointed, he asks, “Where’d all your giggles go?”
The reply that your mind loads up for him is an unfiltered, pained, I hate that you’ve been in so much pain. But telling him that would only be stating the obvious, and in the grand scheme of his mission and his self-bound duty to protecting other people, (never himself, never ever himself), it feels like a stupid thing to say.
You’re not sure what to say. Instead, you drag your finger down a raised pink scar on the back of his arm, laid neatly with connective tissue like rows of embroidery. “...What’s this from?”
Leon has to check to know which one you’re talking about. Squinting at his arm, he plucks through his memory before guessing, “Pulled a girl out of a fire.”
That is exactly what you figured he’d say. Sure, he’ll chatter your ear off about Aerosmith and Italian cooking to no end, but the second you even blink in the direction of his work, the chatter dries up. All that’s missing is the smart-mouthed segue—
Leon pulls a smug face. “She’s a virologist now.”
“Ashley isn’t graduating until next year,” you roll your eyes.
That earns you a one-arm shrug. He’s still glimmering with pride. “She’ll be a virologist in a year, then.”
It’s never what gave him the scar that he remembers—it’s why he got it, what cause he took it for, that he never forgets.
The arm wrapped slung around your waist goes for his beer again, and this time Leon squishes you extra while he takes his sip. When that doesn’t succeed in sparking another laugh from you, he drops all pretense and resorts to tickling you, pinching your side and keeping you fished against him when you shriek and squirm away.
“Leon!”
“What!” He groans. “I’m trying to have a little R&R and you’re brooding. Enough.”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” you scoff—and then scream in outrage, because Leon decides he’s had enough of you and attempts to push you off the dock.
The only reason you don’t go sploshing into the drink is because you get a good hold on him first, and if you go down, then so would he. Between all that playful wrestling and shouting, Leon tugs you into an insistent kiss. And because this is him, the center of all good things in your world, you come out of it warm-faced and giggling again, your cheeks aching with a bright grin. He never fails to make you laugh.
You slump back on the beach towel, still twitching with little laughs. Just to win some of your dignity back, you reach past him and steal a long sip from his beer, shaking your head at him the whole time. It washes down your throat bubbly and wonderfully cold. “So mean.”
“C’mere,” Leon pats the space next to him. And knowing precisely what he’s doing, he hits you with one of the closed-mouth smiles you never see and assuages all of your worries with one, “My sweet girl.”
Hook, line, and sinker. You join him on the end of the dock, (weary of any mischievous hands that might shove you in), feet dangling over the edge and dipping into the pleasant, swaying waters. The breeze on your wet skin is almost too chilly, so Leon’s sun-warm body spooning up behind yours is the ultimate balm. You bask in your personal space heater for as long as he’ll let you, and he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder as you squeeze him close.
There’s a long, scraggly white line snaking up his wrist. You outline it with a finger. This is one of the ones you were there for, back in Raccoon—Leon took a bad hit for you, pushing you ahead of him so you could get to safety first. You’re curious to see what he’ll say.
You tap the scar. “What about this one?”
Leon doesn’t have to look to know which one you’re talking about, this time. His nose nudges behind your ear, and your body thumbs head to toe with the rumble of his voice, a single harp’s chord plucked by an expert player.
“Keeping my world safe.”
Oh my god.
A huge, impish grin blooms on your face. “...You are such a fucking cheeseball.”
Leon pushes you clean off his lap and straight into the lake.
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Risky Meeting - Captain John Price
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Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, somewhat rough sex, neck kisses, dom John Price
Recommended songs to listen while reading: Talking Body by Tove Lo, Killshot by Magdalena Bay, Skin by Rihanna and Secrets by Magdalena Bay
Word Count: 4,000~ (approximately)
A/N: My first smut fic for my COD obsession!, Minors do not interact!
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You yawn lazily as you grab another can of soda from the mini table crowded with a bunch of snacks you and your best friend were munching on. Your eyes were glued to the television illustrating the daily news, not that it was of any interest to you. Your best friend suddenly breaks the silence, and you turn towards her.
“This is getting boring.” she said as she dug into another slice of pizza while leaning back into the couch. You smiled.
She has always been your pillar, your partner in crime, your ride or die. Ever since your junior year in college, she was your roommate. And ever since then, she has always been there for you. And you appreciated her tenfold day after day.
“Well, we can switch the channel if it’s bothering you.” You said with a small smirk as you reached for the remote from the table. She nodded mouth-full of pizza as her eyes lit up when a dramatic horror movie scene came on in one of the channels you were passing through. A few moments later, she swallowed her last bite of the pizza crust leaving crumbs all over her shirt as she stood up.
“Okay listen.” She said as she paused the movie and stood in front of the television causing you to be intrigued by what she’ll say but also confused.
“When was the absolute last time you got laid?” She asked jokingly as you scoff and shove your face with pretzels from the snack bowl. You couldn’t help but reminisce about the last time you did get laid, which was back in your last year of college. You were now working at some shitty job at a cafe and looking back at that day, it was as if it never happened.
It felt like something meaningless, something that was just a fling. Which wasn’t something you liked, you wanted it to be special, but in the end, you didn’t care, you knew your worth and when the right person comes in line, you know exactly what to do. You were snapped out of your thoughts when your best friend had her eureka moment.
“I have just the idea!” she exclaimed as she wiped leftover pizza grease from her fingers on her shirt and hurriedly grabbed her laptop and set to finding what she’s going to show you. Moments later, she turned the screen to you and smirked.
“This is…a sugar daddy dating site!” She said feeling proud of herself. You looked at her shocked and shut her up before anything else. You shook your head.
“No fucking way am I putting myself on there!” You said in denial as she giggled and quickly set out to make you a profile on the site. You scoffed and tried to rip the laptop out of her hands but she was too quick. She stood up away from your grasp and shushed you with her hand.
“Now, the reason I’m being the best friend I am by making this for you, is for two reasons. Number one, you’re 30 and you're working a shitty barista job and barely get 25 hours a week, talk about B-O-R-I-N-G-” she dramatically said.
“And second, you haven’t gotten laid since the dawn of time!...I bet dinosaurs had more action than you.” she said as she laughed at her own joke leaving you playfully throwing pieces of broken pretzels at her.
“Hey, that’s not true! I just don’t seem to have the time, thank you very much” You said retaliating but also sugarcoating it. You both knew you had loads of time off, she sighed and sat next to you on the couch and wrapped her arms around you softly.
“Listen, in no way am I trying to make you feel like a sack of trash but I think you should give this site a try, how about this-” she said as she tried to paint a picture about this for you.
“You have this profile with a few pictures of you that are absolutely gorgeous and a caption saying ‘Looking for a daddy to spoil me’ or something, and then you get flooded with requests, you choose one and go on with it…besides you could use the cash plus…free dick.” she shrugged and she looked at you.
You grimaced at the thought of that cringey caption for your profile.
What could go wrong you thought, it’s extra cash to help while you still work at your local cafe. Your best friend is unfortunately right, it wouldn't hurt to get laid, especially with an older-ish man who’s more experienced plus the good that comes with it, you’ll get the daily allowances which will help you a lot not that you're desperate.
You were ruling out the pros and cons of this and eventually, the pros took the majority. So you gave it another good thought and gently nodded, accepting this new thing your best friend set up for you, causing her to squeal in excitement.
[Next Day - Friday - 10:30 am]
You groggily wake up to the sound of your daily set alarm and you slowly get up and realize you and your best friend crashed to sleep on the couch last night. She was sleeping and snoring with the empty pizza box using it as a makeshift blanket on the other side. You yawn as you throw away the trash from the couch and table, and make breakfast. The smell of eggs woke your best friend and the first thing she did with half-lidded eyes was get up groggily and open the laptop to the sugar-dating site from last night.
Her eyes widened and smiled excitedly. “Uh dude, come here.”
You turned around, mouth full of toast and walked to see what the big fuss was about. And her excitement was proven, there were 14 chat requests straight into your inbox. Your eyes widened, you pushed her over as you sat next to her to skim through them, they were all verified and some were not that bad looking, handsome even. You planted yourself into the couch and analyzed each request, hovering back onto a specific one many times. Your best friend nudges you playfully.
“What did I tell you!!!” she said awaiting your answer. You smiled gently and sighed.
“Yeah yeah whatever” you said as you pressed one of the profiles that requested to chat with you, taking interest in him already. Your best friend noticed how focused you were on his profile. She read aloud.
—
John Price, 37, Male, 6’2
‘What is a pretty lady like you doing here?
—
Your best friend gasped and she shook your shoulder excitedly, your heart skipped a beat and you quickly accepted the request considering how handsome he was, he looked ethereal yet dangerous..in a good way.
—
Well Mr. Price, why do you think I am here?
—
You looked at your best friend and smiled at her, a faint blush kissing your cheeks. He started typing, causing a rush of adrenaline to run through you even though only 2 sentences were sent between you both. He was good looking, so handsome you had to take a double take at his pictures, there were a couple posted, some with him in a tux at what seemed like a fancy party, while some others of him smoking cigars at some random pier. He sure was eye-candy to you.
—
I guess you're looking for a sugar daddy huh ;)
—
Your best friend squealed as you gently nibbled on your lower lip in excitement and responded back.
—
I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea Mr. Price
—
He replied.
—
Then I would like to offer to be your sugar daddy hm? Are we okay with this agreement? With daily allowances of 400 dollars as a start and it is ultimately your choice if you would like to give back any sugar pretty lady.
—
You looked at your best friend in anticipation and she patted your back reassuringly. This sure was new for you but at the same time, it was something you grew to want to do.
—
How generous Mr. Price, I would love to return the favor, so I’ll be your sugar baby;)
—
He liked your message and offered to meet with you the same night at a lovely restaurant to which you were not going to say no of course. Something about John made you feel something that you haven’t felt in a very long time, so what shame is there for having a sugar daddy when he is as attractive as John and with pockets so heavy. You were feeling bold and you loved every second of it, without feeling pressured or anything, you decided to embark on this new experience with your best friend alongside you to offer support.
[Next Day - Saturday - 6:00 pm]
You were outside the restaurant, the one that John had sent you the address to and you were wearing a lovely thigh length black satin dress that hugged you natural body beautifully accentuating all your prettiest facial features. You felt confident and you told yourself sweet affirmations that this little date was going to end up amazingly and that you had nothing to stress about, despite you have not been on a date in forever which kind of freaked you out.
You were about to start worrying that you would eventually get stood up which irked you and caused you to overthink for a good 10 minutes when suddenly you get a phone call from John.
As you saw his name on the screen of your phone, you were hesitant to answer only thinking what he sounded like, just the thought of it was having your stomach in mini knots. You purse your lips gently and clear your throat before answering.
“Hello?” You say thanking yourself for no voice cracks whatsoever. There was a very short silence but it felt like forever.
“Hello sweetheart..I am outside in the restaurant parking lot and I think I see you, wave your hand up for me darling.” he said.
You were shocked at how smooth and succulent his rough deep voice sounded, causing you to lean against the wall slightly, and reach your arm to gently wave towards the parking lot to catch his attention wherever he was, feeling your legs unconsciously clench together slightly.
As you see him coming towards you, you hang up and smile as you slowly walk towards him, hoping you wouldn’t trip in the heels you were wearing.
He looked amazing, he was wearing a white button up tucked into his dress pants that was rather tight accentuating his muscles, and he smelled of sweet musk, that gave a warm and subtle but woodsy scent to your nose. You couldn't help but ogle at him in more places than one shamelessly. He was tall and he towered over you, clearly claiming dominance.
“Finally.” He said with a small sigh and slight grin as he cupped your cheek lovingly as he checked you out.
“You are breathtakingly beautiful.” He complimented as you felt a small blush reach your cheeks causing you to smile and thank him.
“Not as handsome as you, John.” He chuckled deeply at your compliment and reached for the door behind you and opened it for you, motioning you to enter first.
Moments later, as you both dig into your food and share sweet conversations about many topics getting to touch base with each other more, including the topic of the new ‘relationship’ you two seemed to have. You couldn’t help but feel a short rush of heat go through your legs as you paid such grand attention to him as he spoke, staring at his luscious lips.
“Sweetheart?” He asked.
You suddenly come back into focus from your clouded naughty thoughts and straighten your spine.
“Sorry, I am just very intrigued by what you’re saying” You say with a little smile. He smiled as he noticed you were ogling at him and he loved every bit of it, he loved the attention he was getting from you, and he loved how flustered you looked.
Later, as he paid the bill and left the restaurant with you, he offered to take you home and you agreed. As you both reached his car, it was an expensive car that seemed like it had a spacious back area, and it was in a rich color of black that matched John perfectly.
You were going for the passenger seat, but before you could, he took you by the arm softly and trapped you under him, having you rest your body on his driver’s side of the car door. You felt a rush of adrenaline knowing exactly where this was going and you were thankful that there was close to nobody near where his car was parked.
As you both stare into each other’s eyes completely forgetting everything and everyone around you, focusing on John and such power he has over you in this moment, you were not complaining, you craved more of it. Did it seem too quick? No, you needed this man and you needed him now.
As a smooth breathtaking hum is released from his soft lips, you felt a sudden but warm touch of his calloused hand gliding up to push some of your hair away revealing the crook of your soft neck as he leans down and places butterfly kisses from you bare shoulder to behind your ear, finishing with a small nibble or your ear.
This caused you to clench your legs together for the 10th time and bring him closer to you by pulling him in slowly by his belt buckle, while you leaned your head to the side giving John more access to explore your bare neck area. You hummed in satisfaction causing John to use his free hand to grip your hip tightly and looked at you.
“Do you want this to continue sweetheart?” he asked, already knowing your answer as he looked at you with half lidded eyes covered in lust for you.
You craved every inch of this man and you nodded in absolute consent for him to have you in any way he pleases. All you needed was John to rock your world, and he wouldn’t let you go without showing you just how beautiful you are.
John leaned in closer to you until both foreheads meet, brushing his gentle and luscious lips across yours slowly, leaving you beginning to feel hot and bothered. John excited you and you knew that it was time to indulge in this. You brought your hands up to grip John’s hair gently and he leaned in to kiss you.
You were kissing him with such burning passion, feeling his well kept mustache against your lips, adding some friction. You couldn’t help but kiss him deeper, feeling those sweet, yet intoxicating lips. His tongue slips into your mouth gently, exploring slowly yet demanding. You felt warm in his embrace.
He’s a natural at this You thought.
He starts to gently caress your thigh while his other hand is pulling you by the neck deeper into his kiss. He lifts your leg to rest gently on his side. His dominating touch felt sweet and passionate, as he pushed his groin into your parted legs. He pulls away from the kiss, having a thin but sweet string of saliva connecting you both as he looks at you with hunger.
“You’re precious, angel.” He cooed as he laid small butterfly kisses from your cheek to your clothed chest causing you to feel trembled yet needy.
You completely dissolve into his embrace, as he pulls you closer into him by pulling your ass firmly. All you could feel was the aching yet anticipated want for him at the pit of your stomach. It felt tight but you loved the feeling. It was exhilarating, it just pumped through your entire body and left you feeling numb. The feeling of his toned body against yours, the earthy and warm smell of this natural scent flooding your mind.
You needed him over you, under you, completely inside you. Your back arches slightly as he comes back up to kiss your neck with small open-mouthed kisses leaving little hickies dispersed around in a little group. He gently bit onto your soft collarbone area, gifting him a small moan from you.
“Why don’t we continue this in the back seat yeah?” He asked with his hungry brown eyes piercing into yours. You nodded feverishly, giving him the okay as he opened the back door, and lifted you to place you gently in the backseat as he closed the two seats down for more room. You wanted this man like no other, you needed that orgasm.
And the rest was history.
He was towered over you, a now visible silver chain necklace around his neck dangling over you, You looked at him wanting to just rip him of his clothes and devour him, but that was rather not his plan just yet. He licks his lips softly as you feel him looking at you very carnivorously.
His lips met yours once again and his hands were trailing up and down your deliciously natural body causing you to moan gently into his mouth earning small groans from him. His hands snake quickly around your back to unzip your dress and pull it down, revealing your luscious breasts that were hugged by a beautiful lace bra of your favorite color with matching underwear.
He leans lower leaving kissing down from your chest to your belly button and removes your heels skillfully giving you more comfort. He trailed more kisses up your thighs to your pelvis whispering sweet words into your plush skin. He reaches up to unclasp your bra, relieving your pretty tits so he can just ogle at them lovingly.
“You’re so fucking pretty y’know that?” He coos, causing you to smile gently, feeling fuzzy inside. He latches his sweet lips onto one of your breasts as the other is fiddled with by his rough calloused hand, causing you to arch your back into him wanting more.
Hickies and love bites were scattered all over your upper body as he licks each one admiring them. He was proud of himself like a painter finishing a painting. His thumb hooks onto your panties and with one movement they were off, the warm air of the car hitting your bare cunt.
He stares at it hungrily causing you to clench your legs together, but before he can indulge, you want his clothes off. He was quicker than you and started removing his dress shirt slowly teasing you, button by button. He was later left in his boxers.
This was your chance to see his precious package. You reached your hand to the hem of his underwear to remove, releasing his throbbing cock, eyes widening at his size. He was rather on the longer but girthier side with a pretty pink tip as well as well trimmed. You were wondering if it would fit.
You took your hand and gently wrapped your hand around his cock but he stopped you, and kissed your hand instead.
“Now, as much as I absolutely want your pretty soft lips wrapped around my cock, I simply won’t allow myself pleasure before you princess.” He said leaving you a little dumbfounded but you smiled softly at his gentleman actions.
He pushes you down and with one swift move his hand meets your throbbing clit, as he starts lovingly attacking your neck with open mouthed kisses again while circling your sensitive bud. You shiver slightly at the rough but gentle contact.
“John-” You say breathlessly feeling pure bliss and ecstasy as he chuckles deeply before going down to meet your aching cunt.
“Do you still want this, gorgeous?” He teased knowing exactly that you would rather die than not have him fuck the hell out of you.
You laughed gently. “Of course I do.”
His hot breath hits your sensitive area, and he smirks at you and with that, his lips latched onto your sweet aching clit, burying his mouth and nose into your delicious folds. He could one hundred percent feel your wetness soaking his sweet lips and his mustache, but that only made him want more as he tightened his grip around your legs so you don’t move an inch.
His tongue danced flawlessly around your clit, sucking it to its fullest potential, responding to your beautiful moans with kisses to your inner thigh at the same time. You felt on top of the world, you catched up to him and lifted your pelvis into the entirety of his mouth some more, using his skillful tongue to your utmost full desire.
Flicking his tongue causing your nipples to perk up gently, he inserted two fingers gently into your wet and slick center. You covered your mouth from releasing such loud pleasurable moans. You felt his fingers curl in and out as his tongue lovingly attacked your swollen clit once again. Sweet and breathy moans escaping his muffled lips.
Moments after.
“John I think-” You pitifully said.
He looked up and you smiled. “Let it out, beautiful.”
And with that, a warm and succulent blast of your juices soaked his handsome face from his mustache to his wet fingers, licking them off proudly. You lay there sprawled, seeing imaginary stars as you let out a breathy laugh.
“You’re all tuckered out and we’re not even finished.” He said, smiling gently.
You pull him down for a short kiss, as you taste yourself on his lips.
“Then by all means…finish the job.” You seductively said, connecting your lips with his once again. Time seemed to stop as he continued to lay kisses down from your neck to your perked and soft nipples, causing you to release sweet hums of satisfaction. He reaches for his back pocket with an already prepared condom and pulls it out swiftly from the package, wrapping it on his throbbing cock.
You breathe in gently as he leans in and whispers in your ear.
“You ready, darling?” He asks.
You nod feverishly, as you pull him for a kiss leaving a few on his neck. He started teasing you as he rubbed his length at your slick entrance leaving you hot and bothered. His sweet compliments and affirmations made your brain all fuzzy and had you in a deep trance. You finally feel him drop into you, causing you to let out a loud pleasurable shriek.
His hard cock filled you to the absolute brim and your head threw itself back as your back arched into him as he nipped gently at your nipples. He hisses gently, manly and rough moans escaping his mouth as he holds your hips, thrusting in and out of your wet and soft cunt.
You pulled him into you and met for another passionate kiss as he kept on thrusting into you, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. His tongue danced with yours as you felt yourself close to release, once again. The car windows were absolutely fogged up as your heart raced feeling him twitch inside you many times.
This is what I have been missing out on. You thought.
The ripping feeling of your core connected to his and the beautifully pleasurable feeling of having the most amazing orgasms because of him made your body and mind feel accomplished.
Riding down on your second orgasm as both of you cum in unison, John pulls out slowly as he lazily ties the now used condom, and tosses it away in the packet to discard later. He leans a little up to place gentle kisses on your tummy all the way up to your lips once again, pulling at your bottom lip causing you to hum and smile gently.
“Wow.” You said breathlessly, making John feel proud and triumphant as he chuckled deeply.
“You did a good job baby.” He cooed as he helped you clean up, kissing your forehead.
[Same Night - Saturday - 11:30 pm]
John pulls up to your place into the driveway after having a little trouble finding it even with the help of a GPS. You turn to him one last time and give him a passionate kiss on his soft lips and smiled gently at him.
He kissed your hand, as you reached for the car door to leave, completely forgetting the last ultimate thing, but he reminded you by taking your hand before you left and handed you an envelope that felt heavy to the touch.
As you opened it, it was roughly around 300 dollars. You smirked at him as a small blush rose to your flushed out cheeks.
“Don’t worry, I’d never forget princess, same time next week?” He offered as he smiled gently at you.
You laughed gently and nodded. “You bet.”
You got out of the car and walked to your place waving back at him and closing the door behind you letting out a relaxed sigh.
I could really get used to this.
You thought as you started counting the money in the envelope smiling to yourself.
#cod smut#captain john price#cod fanfic#call of duty headcanons#call of duty#john price#simon riley#cod mw2#cod x reader#cod mwii
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