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karatekels · 9 months

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A Better Offer - Part 2

Here is part 2 of the request where reader is a (now-former) employee of LaRussos! (Part 1 here)

--- Terry’s POV ---

The day of the auction had finally arrived, and Terry found himself incredibly impressed with how everything had come together. Everything had been organized to perfection, and Terry knew that the auction would be the event talked about for the rest of the year (and not just because he’d made sure the LaRussos would be in attendance, giving him the opportunity to humiliate Danny Boy yet again).

Terry looked over at you with your ever-present clipboard, speaking to your main points of contact for the event today. You looked radiant in your cocktail dress, your earpiece (allowing you to speak with your assistants throughout the day) blending in seamlessly with your hair, and you were completely in your element: confident, excited, and happy. He smiles at you with genuine endearment, though no one sees it, not even you, busy as you are.

While he had initially sought ought to use you as a means to an end, he had almost immediately abandoned that plan, preferring to go for this “two birds, one stone” approach when it came to your relationship. Had hiring you to organize this event for him successfully driven LaRusso up the wall? Absolutely. But spending time with you had caused him to quickly shift his motivations where you were concerned; he genuinely wanted to help you succeed. You had quickly become something of a confidante to him, and while he obviously hadn’t trusted you with anything particularly sensitive, he felt himself wanting to open up to you in ways that he was largely unfamiliar with.

He wasn’t sure what it was about you that drew him in, but he found himself gravitating towards you despite himself. You were such a bundle of contradictions; caring yet feisty, logical yet overflowing with emotions, shy yet outrageous, with a wicked sense of humour. You were a hard worker, but never at the expense of anyone around you, and he found himself envious of your ability to get people to listen to you and do what you say without outright manipulating them.

And then, of course, you were beautiful. You positively glowed when you were bantering with him, and he often found himself going out of his way to get you to laugh, wanting to see that sparkle in your eyes. Of course, he hadn’t expected anything further from getting closer to you; he knew that deep down you still held loyalty to LaRusso, and then there was the age difference, but as a collector of rare and beautiful things, how could he not want to keep you around? This whole past week he had been thinking up people he could contact, events he could host; anything to give you a reason to stay here beyond today. Maybe someday he could make you come around to his way of thinking – that being that you would be perfect together – but only if he had more time.

Looking out onto the terrace, seeing the guests starting to mill about, he’s distracted from watching you – you stood out to him as though an ethereal light shone from you – by the arrival of the couple he had been waiting for: Daniel and Amanda LaRusso. While he didn’t want to do anything too over the top, and take away from your success, he thought that he’d found the perfect way to achieve his goals, seeing LaRusso unloading a collection of bonsais from the trunk of his car. Show time.

---

That had gone better than expected, Terry mused as he sat in his chair, playing up the role of the victim for his audience. Buying Miyagi’s bonsais had been a stroke of genius, and watching LaRusso’s rage build and build had been quite the entertainment, but even Terry couldn’t have predicted Daniel actually shoving him. Sure, in the moment he’d seen in coming, making sure to stumble more than necessary, playing up the feeble old man routine – yeah, right – and making Danny Boy unquestionably look like the villain here, even before he’d accused him of insulting his wife to Eva.

Amanda LaRusso had stomped off, but her ire didn’t even seem to hold a candle to yours – having tapped into the channel you were communicating through with the earpieces at the beginning of the event, Terry had nearly failed to maintain his composure as you snarled curses about Daniel that nearly had him blushing. Speaking of which, where had you run off to? Scanning the terrace quickly, he managed to spot the flash of colour from your skirt – brilliant blues and greens that complimented your skin wonderfully – as you entered his home.

He smiled briefly, enjoying the way that you seemed to find comfort in his home – in anything to do with him, really, but the smile fades immediately as he sees LaRusso following after you, his back ramrod straight, the tension evident in his body. If he did anything to upset you… Terry’s jaw clenches at the thought, and he quickly makes his way to a side door to find the two of you.

“So this was the big event that Silver set you up with?” He hears LaRusso’s voice echo through the largely empty hall in this part of the house, and follows the sound, completely silent.

“Yes, Daniel, this is it. You’d know that, if you had bothered to reach out to me in the past two months,” comes your cold reply, and Terry finally finds the two of you, remaining largely hidden but giving him a clear view of the two of you. He wouldn’t step in – going by the way your eyes were positively blazing with anger, he knew you didn’t need him to – but if LaRusso actually dared to hurt you, in Terry’s own home…he wouldn’t think twice before sweeping his marble floors with the little prick.

“So you were part of this big scheme to make me look bad?” Daniel accuses, still largely delusional about the lengths Terry had to go to get a response out of him. You roll your eyes at his hysterics, and Terry feels a glow of pride as you don’t take the bait.

“Actually, you managed to accomplish that all on your own. Do you really think that Terry would take on a big, public event just to humiliate you? Why would he risk his own reputation like that?”

Terry is once again pleased, and impressed, that you’ve managed to figure him out, and his heart warms a little at the thought of you trying to understand how he operated.

“Yes! He’ll stop at nothing to make sure that Cobra Kai is the best in the Valley!” Daniel insists, and you actually smirk at him.

“Now, is this before or after he’s done training up the underprivileged children he just offered to train for free?” you drawl, crossing your arms. “What a dastardly villain, Daniel, I can see why you want everyone to stay away from him.”

“That’s all just an illusion, part of his plan to make everything think he’s not the bad guy. He will ruin everything –”

“No, Daniel, you did this! You nearly ruined the auction, ruined everything that I’ve worked so hard for! And not just for me, or Terry. You know how much making a good impression at this event meant to Amanda, and you still just couldn’t help yourself!”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Y/N,” Daniel says, his voice taking on an angry tone that sets off warning bells in Terry’s head.

“Oh, of course I don’t! How could anyone understand the tragic woes of Daniel LaRusso?” you cry out, your voice darkly sarcastic. “The fact that you can’t seem to recognize what’s going on with you is scary at this point, Daniel. I’m sorry if Terry hurt you as a child, or if he’s ruining your plans for karate supremacy now, but you are the one running your own life into the ground, not him.”

“I can’t believe you’ve let him convince you that he’s a good guy!” Daniel spits out, disgusted.

“Terry has been nothing but wonderful from the moment we’ve met, Daniel,” you tell him, your voice filled with emotions that Terry can’t place. “He has been kind, and helpful, and more trustworthy, more appreciative towards me in two months than you’ve been in decades.”

Terry’s perfect composure seems to crack at your words, his mouth actually falling open with shock as you defend him so vehemently. Was this really how you felt?

“Don’t be stupid, Y/N, you’re just a means for him to mess with me –”

“No,” you snarl, your voice echoing throughout the hall, and Terry finds himself actually getting wary of you; you were quite formidable when you were angry. “My relationship with Terry has nothing to do with you, Daniel.”

“R-Relationship?”

“Not that kind of relationship,” you say exasperatedly, and perhaps with a hint of disappointment. “Not that that’s any of your business. What you should be worried about is your own relationship, Daniel. If you can’t get your anger, your arrogance, under control soon, you’ll drive Amanda away too, and it looks like it will happen sooner than you think if you aren’t careful. Go find her, Daniel, and don’t come back.”

There is nothing but silence for a long moment, and then the sound of footsteps walking down the hall, slamming the door behind him. With Daniel gone, you let out a shaky breath, sniffling, and Terry feels his heart break as he sees your anger leave your body just as quickly as it came on, leaving you exhausted and trembling.

--- Reader’s POV ---

You glare at the door Daniel left through, feeling completely drained. Burying your face in your hands, you try to keep yourself together; refusing to cry. You couldn’t believe that Daniel, even with all his delusions about Terry, would dare to insinuate that the bond you had developed with the man was made up. It had been hard enough for you over these past few months, making sure to not read into the relationship too much, looking for signs that maybe he would reciprocate your feelings, but to even consider the opposite, that all of this was a lie, hurt you more than you would have thought possible.

You sniffle, wiping at your eyes and worried that your makeup would smudge. You’d go to the bathroom quickly, making yourself presentable and then head out to the event to make sure that it ended on a high note.

“Well, that was a new experience for me,” comes a deep voice from behind you, and you turn to see Terry walking up to you casually from down the hall, still stopping a good distance away from you. You fight the urge to run up to him and bury your face in his chest.

“Terry! I’m so sorry about Daniel, I just got rid of him, and I think–”

“I don’t care about LaRusso, or what he did to me.” He cuts you off, his hands in his pockets as he surveys you. “I do take issue with his treatment of you, however.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” you insist, your heart thrumming at the thought, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know. I heard. You did a great job of sticking up for yourself,” he says, and you feel a flash of pride at his praise.

“…and sticking up for me.”

There’s a silence between you, and you just stare one another down. You think you’re holding your breath, but you can’t remember how to inhale again.

“I…I just couldn’t let him badmouth you anymore, I couldn’t stand it.”

He walks closer to you until you’re only an arm’s length apart.

“I’m not used to having someone fight for me, Y/N. Thank you,” he murmurs sincerely, looking down at you with an unfathomable expression.

“I think you’re worth fighting for,” you reply, trying to pour all of the emotions, all of the things you felt you couldn’t say, into your voice, into your eyes as you kept them locked with his.

Looking back on this moment weeks, even years later, you couldn’t say for sure who had moved first. But between one blink and the next, you found yourself in Terry’s arms, your arms around his neck as you kissed, the feeling of his lips on your own sending your heart flying.

You’d never thought, never even allowed yourself to hope, that Terry might share your feelings for him, but if the way he was kissing you now was any indication, you seemed to be on the same page. His arms were wrapped around you, pulling you as close to him as possible as he bent down to capture your lips with his own, but it still wasn’t enough.

“Terry,” you whisper his name against his mouth in a needy tone that conveyed things that you didn’t even understand. You wonder if Terry remembers your conversation over dinner, all those weeks ago, when you had embarrassingly confessed your complete lack of experience with romance, let alone sex.

He breaks the kiss to gaze into your eyes, his thumb tracing the shape of your bottom lip, and the intensity of his expression is enough to take your breath away. You have no doubt that he remembers, as he touches you reverently; Terry noticed everything, and forgot nothing.

“I would hate for your first foray into romance to be interrupted by someone stumbling upon us, my dear,” Terry croons, stoking the growing desire within you with gentle touches up and down your sides. “Come upstairs with me,” he purrs, taking your hand, and you feel yourself blush deeply.

“Terry, but the auction!” you protest as he tries to lead you further into the house.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve organized this well enough that the staff can take it from here,” he replies, deftly removing your earpiece and setting it on a nearby table. Biting your lip, you hesitate before putting your trust in Terry, letting him guide you away.

Halfway up the second set of stairs, you both need to stop, unable to go any further without devouring one another again. Pressing you against the window overlooking one of the gardens, Terry kisses you fiercely while you cling to him for dear life, trying to keep up with all of the new feelings and sensations overwhelming you.

You wouldn’t know it, but as Terry sets about untying the knot keeping your halter dress up, he feels the prickle of eyes on him, and looking out through the window onto the grounds sees Daniel staring up at you both with a curious mixture of rage and horror.

A brief war takes place within Terry; the primal, angry part of him contemplates taking you against the window in full view of LaRusso (and anyone else that happened to walk by), but this newer part of him, the part that feels cared for, cherished by you, and returned those feelings to you tenfold snarls at the idea. You were his, you were precious, and no one but him would see you like this.

Pausing in his attempt to take your dress off, he instead scoops you into his arms, lifting you off the ground and kissing you with uninhibited adoration as he carries you to his bedroom. Your heartbeat is thrumming in your ears, but you feel no nerves or anxiety, only excitement and pure joy as he gently lowers you onto his bed.

Releasing you, he takes a step back, looking down at you with something resembling apprehension. “Y/N, are you sure that this is what you want?” Are you sure that I am what you want? seems to be the underlying question, and your head spins at the thought that anyone could be more perfect, more desirable than Terry Silver.

You kick off your heels and slide further back onto his bed, leaning up on your elbows to look directly into his eyes, a serious expression on your face. “Terry Silver, I have never been more sure of anything in my entire life. If you change your mind now, I may actually kill you.”

Terry snickers at your comment, the tension and hesitation evaporating from the room with your comment.

“I love that quick mouth of yours,” he says, grinning down at you as he kicks off his shoes and removes his suit jacket.

“Prove it,” you retort cheekily, unsure of exactly where this side of you had come from. Terry’s eyes darken, and your heart skips a beat at the way he’s looking at you, and then he’s on you again, kissing you fiercely, his tongue coaxing your own out from between your lips in a move that has you moaning against him. Blindly, as you’re unwilling to break the kiss, you fumble with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

He shrugs out of his shirt, his hands cradling your head, tilting it in a way that lets him kiss you deeply in a way that has your head spinning. Eventually you break the kiss, catching your breath as you take him in with your eyes, your mouth going dry as you take in his broad chest and muscular arms. Playfully, you throw yourself at him, and he lets you knock him back onto the bed, chuckling quietly at your antics as he pulls you against him, his large hands gripping your waist firmly.

“Eager, are we?” he asks, amused. You settle yourself on top of him, straddling his hips, running your hands over his body reverently.

“You’re so hot,” you groan in response, utterly shameless as you drink him in with your eyes. He was perfection. You hear him let out another rumble of laughter, but it morphs into a soft moan as you run your tongue over one of his flat nipples brazenly.

Deciding that you’d had enough time toying with him, Terry flips you around, settling himself between your legs and kissing your neck, running his hands up your legs beneath your dress. You squirm under his ministrations, clutching his head close to you and taking his hair out of its ponytail, loving the way his silver curls frame his face.

His hands run all the way up to your hips, tracing the edges of your lacy underwear, and he growls in approval, removing his hands from under your dress to flip you over, brushing your hair over one shoulder and laying hot, open-mouthed kisses across your bare back as he finally unties your dress.

“Take it off for me, darling, please. I need to see you,” Terry begs, and you never thought that you’d hear Terry Silver beg for anything. Slipping off the bed and facing away from him, you let the dress fall to your hips before wiggling out of it, letting it pool on the floor at your feet, leaving you in just your underwear.

Shyly, you cover your chest with your arms before turning around to face him, seeing that he’s anticipated this and has sat on the edge of the bed so that you’re within reach of him. Smiling up at you, he holds out his hands, inviting you to take them. Biting your lip, you take a deep breath and lower your arms to take his hands, baring your chest to him as you do so.

“You’re stunning,” he breathes, guiding you onto his lap. He takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking it gently, and you mewl, releasing his hands to tangle yours in his hair, clutching him to your breast, needing more. His hands are at your back, one holding you in place against him while the other traces teasing patterns against your skin with featherlight touches that have you writing against him.

Uncomfortable with the unequal distribution of clothing, you reach for his belt, tugging at it impatiently. He stands, keeping you wrapped around him briefly as he moves his mouth to your other breast, giving it equal attention until you whine, apparently done with waiting.

“Brat,” he says, dropping you onto the bed on your back. You bat your eyelashes up at him for all response, and he rolls his eyes, moving his hands to his belt. You freeze, your eyes going wide as they zero in on the prominent bulge in his pants, licking your lips in anticipation.

You catch him smirking, clearly enjoying your reaction, and you narrow your eyes at him, rolling over and pointedly looking away. You hear him taking his belt off, and hear his zipper pulled down, the sound making a shiver go down your spine. Feeling thwarted, you flip back over, taking in the sight of a fully naked Terry for the first time.

You couldn’t believe that this man who had everything, who was everything, wanted you the way you did him. It was almost too good to be true…

“Are you sure that this is what you want?” you ask, echoing his earlier insecurities back at him. You’re suddenly feeling shy. “What if I’m bad at this?”

Terry seems offended, almost angry at the thought, pouncing on you and pinning you back against the sheets, laying kisses all over your face and chest, one hand reaching between you to slip one finger beneath your underwear and into your tight pussy, rubbing your clit in circles with his knuckle. You moan wantonly, feeling overwhelmed by all the pleasurable sensations, arching up against him, still needing him closer.

“I love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. They don't get to have you, but I do. You’re all mine, Y/N,” Terry growls in your ear, and your body flushes with heat at the possessiveness in his tone.

“Mmm yes, Terry!” you moan desperately, blinding reaching for his cock and letting out a needy groan when your hand brushes up against it. He was so big, and so hard, with warm, soft skin that you wanted to run your fingers across, your lips across…

Terry adds a second finger to the first, stretching you out, and you grip his cock more firmly, making him hiss with pleasure.

“Terry, please!” you whine, bucking your hips in rhythm with his fingers inside you.

“Not yet, sweetheart, you’re too tight. I don’t want to hurt you,” he coos, though the expression on his face lets you know that he’s barely keeping himself from taking you.

“I don’t care, I need you now!” You really were turning into a brat where Terry was concerned.

Instead of replying, Terry flips you both over, leaving you straddling his waist on top of him. Somehow, his fingers have remained inside you, his thumb increasing the friction on your clit. You grind against his hand, looking down at him, his gorgeous hair spread across the sheets, looking up at you with desire and affection in those beautiful eyes.

“If you think you’re ready, then take it,” he says, holding the base of his cock and rubbing it against your ass. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the sensation. “It’ll be easier for you if you come first, though.”

Grumbling, you tear the scrap of lace from between your body, not wanting it to get in the way, and grind yourself against Terry’s cock, getting it slick with your juices and making you feel absolutely filthy. Seeing how Terry’s grip tightened on your hips and how his eyes shut, you can see that it was having an effect on him as well. Having gotten his cock all slippery, you lift your hips up, trying to align him with your entrance, whimpering at the sensation when his head starts to enter you.

Terry’s eyes fly open, his jaw tight, and you think he’s trying to keep himself from thrusting up into you.

“Stubborn woman,” he says, albeit with a degree of admiration in his voice. “Put your hands on my chest, sweetheart, and lean forward, and go slow,” he warns, reaching between you to work at your clit, causing you to rock your hips against him in a way that has you both moaning. Gradually, you work your way down his cock, until you come up to your hymen, with more than half of his cock not yet inside you. God, he was huge.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N,” Terry purrs, his eyes shining brightly as he keeps his own needs at bay for you. “I’m going to make you come now, and when you do, try to take me in – it’ll be easier for you if you’re relaxed,” he explains, his fingers moving more quickly. You know that you’re close, and your eyes scrunch shut, focusing on the feeling.

“That’s right, come for me, beautiful. Come right now, all over my cock.”

Those words were all it took, and you wail as you come, your thighs shaking as you drop down onto him, popping your cherry and nearly taking all of him in. He groans as you sheathe more of him in your tight, wet, heat, and the sound nearly has you vibrating with desire.

“That’s it, that’s good. Come here, lay down on me, and let me do the work,” he croons, guiding your head down to his shoulder as you lay on top of him, the new angle stretching you in an unfamiliar way. Wrapping his other arm around you to the small of your back, he slowly thrusts into you, causing you to shudder against him. Relaxing, you let him rock you up and down on his cock, slowly taking more of him in until he’s fully inside of you.

You’re feeling so overwhelmed, so full, that you can’t form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence, but Terry seems to know just what you need, moving your body in a way that has both of you climaxing together, riding out the waves of pleasure until you’re both just breathing heavily, holding one another.

Terry rubs comforting circles on your back, making you melt against him even further, before he gently lifts you off of him, pulling you against his side and kissing your forehead. You snuggle up into him, tracing your fingers over his silvery chest hair.

“That was perfect, Terry. You were perfect,” you murmur, kissing the corner of his mouth sweetly. “Thank you.”

Terry rolls onto his side to face you, gazing at your face with warm affection, stroking your cheek fondly. “I believe I’ll spend my life trying to keep you feeling that way, Y/N,” he says, and you feel tears prick your eyes at the sheer emotions that this man elicits from you.

Neither of you could know for certain at that moment, but Terry had been correct with his last statement.

---

A sappy happily ever after! Hope you all enjoyed!

#terry silver #terry silver x reader #thomas ian griffith #cobra kai #smut #sensei targaryen #fanfiction #hooray for requests

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frizzle-tales · 2 years

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Learning how to make alcoholic refreshments was surprisingly… fun. The time spent at Taehyung’s home was filled with nothing but slaving away in the kitchen, being physically abused, and sleeping on some sofa in his room, but this was a little different from the usual, and Jiyeon thought it was quite enjoyable.

Granted, she still made a couple of errors here and there, but today, or rather; for now, Taehyung seemed patient with her for this session and she simply tried again.

However, having Taehyung taste-test her drinks was simply nerve-wracking and Jiyeon wasn’t sure what to do as he circled the liquor in the glass and stood there in silence for what felt like forever, before he offered his constructive feedback. It took a quite a few drinks before he finally deemed the fourth one as worthy.

The workshop came to an end and Jiyeon received her following series of tasks, and she nodded, answering a quick “Yes, sir.” before she went ahead and washed the items they had used, placed them back in their spots before she started on dinner, just like Taehyung had asked of her, even when he had asked for an extra portion.

Naively, she didn’t think much of it, simply thinking that Taehyung must’ve wanted to keep some leftovers for the next day, so again she followed his orders, only pausing when she heard the doorbell ringing.

A guest. Someone who could potentially save her out of this place?

Jiyeon stayed in place, and at his familiar voice, she turned around to look over at the man entering the living room. It was Namjoon - Taehyung’s friend - and it seemed that Taehyung had invited him over for dinner, as he couldn’t stay around for last time’s dinner.

“Hello.” Jiyeon figured it was best to not screw up already. "How has your day been?" Surely her book mentioned something like this, didn't it?

–🎙️

Taehyung stayed at his seat at the table, knowing fair well Namjoon could make his way through his home at this point.

“You made it.” He grinned once the frame of his guest passed through the doorway. “I was wondering when to expect you.”

Namjoon slid his jacket off his shoulders, a dimply grin — one that matched Taehyung’s — plastered on his features. “Traffic got in the way. You wouldn’t think I’d pass up an invitation like this, would you?” After a malevolent chuckle vibrated in his chest, the man turned his attention towards the woman near the stove.

“Hello.. Jiyeon, was it? It’s been fine, why thank you for asking.” He looked towards Taehyung with a knowing look before returning his attention to her. “You wouldn’t mind hanging this up for me, would you?” With an extended arm, Namjoon held out his jacket towards the young woman.

“Of course she wouldn’t.” Taehyung chipped in before his sweet little prisoner could make her first mistake of the night. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart? There’s a closet just down the hall.”

The whole ordeal seemed to only make his guest giddy with sinister like amusement.

Namjoon took a seat across from his friend, settling back into the chair. “I feel like I must say how I wasn’t expecting an invite so soon. I assumed you’d want to train that girl of yours just a little longer at least.”

“What can I say?” Taehyung mused, resting the cold rim of the glass against his bottom lip before taking a sip. “She’s a quick learner.. and I may have some selfish reasons for making it so soon.”

Well, selfish was definitely one word to describe it.

Taehyung couldn’t get enough of punishing his poor prisoner. Despite craving complete obedience, hearing her cry, beg him for forgiveness made something inside him go wild.

It made him wonder if she misbehaved, how far he’d be able to push her. Poor thing had been through so much, yet he still couldn’t get enough of her fearful, teary eyes begging him to stop.

A smirk stretched across Namjoon’s lips at the words of his comrade, as if, almost instantly, he understood the wicked meaning behind them.

“You know,” Namjoon piped up once Jiyeon crossed the threshold of the doorway, “I’m feeling quite parched.”

Taehyung clued in almost immediately. His hand came up off the table before snapping his fingers, beckoning the girl over. “Tell her what you’d like, she’d love to grab it for you. Wouldn’t you, Jiyeonnie?”

Not skipping a beat, the man went on with his order. “Gin, no ice.”

As Jiyeon went to walk away, Taehyung grabbed her arm, pulling her back just enligh to murmur an extra instruction. “Once you’re done, I want you to set the table, understand?”

#🎙anon #serial killer!taehyung #yandere taehyung

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francesackerley · 2 years

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🐦 for how our muses met (Frances introducing Basti to Lucy 😈 meme expert mode)

[the same evening as this] @lucyofedinburgh

Barefoot with drinks in hand, Frances unwittingly led Sebastian across white carpet toward his future.

She tugged him along by his wrist, the touch so familiar it meant very little. The crowd parted as they wove their way over to the window, a red sea of partygoers parting under the influence of the divine force of beauty and ego.

She ducked out onto the balcony, cut in half by the window frame. When her head lifted it was followed by a shock of red.

“–cut down the guest list if we’re going to start becoming a dispensary,” she was saying, attention focused over her shoulder on Lucy even as she wrapped a proprietary hand around Sebastian’s bicep and pulled him forward, forming a triangle of conversation.

“Lucy, Sebastian Herzog. Sebastian, Lucy Needham. Lucy lives here, or rather, in my closet.” Blue eyes gave a pointed look at the cardigan that was most definitely hers. What was more annoying was that it fit Lucy better, the first few buttons sitting undone to reveal a bit of cleavage in a way that was more suggestive than whorish.

“Sebastian and I are in Politics of Business together, theoretically because he’s studying political science, but we both know it’s more that he can’t help pining after me.” His responding eye roll was matched by Frances’s wicked smile, distorted through her wine glass as she paused to take a sip. It was too easy. “I figured it was about time the two of you met.”

She tucked several strands of loose fringe behind her ear, Cartier bracelet slipping down her forearm at the gesture. A screw was missing. “Now, Sebastian and I have sort of a running bet. I say that I know about a strawberry shortcake so sinful it would persuade him to stop being celibate. He says he’s more of a savory man. I thought we might invite him to join us on Thursday to come to a verdict?”

She arched a threaded eyebrow at Lucy, silently layering one conversation on top of another, speaking with subtext and pointed looks. Yes, was the resounding answer, followed by something further that Frances fully intended to translate, only her attention slipped over Lucy’s shoulder to a woman inspecting a series of photos resting on their fireplace mantel.

Blonde, with a thousand yard stare and sporting other people’s clothes.

Frances pushed her drink into Lucy’s hand and brushed a quick kiss to her cheek, then Sebastian’s. “I have to go say hello to someone. Play nice, the both of you.”

#*answered #*uni au #pleas don’t hesitate to lmk if you want changes!

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libidomechanica · 2 years

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See with all we said

A curtal sonnet sequence

Sad Hesper brings bring in the like again. Cries, confusions may be when she turns from hiding-holes, and resolution one of act and all the look so. Not Wicked, greatness all the Hebrew Priests the first: a Name is so oft a wannish gloom a soul was hot, and make aloud; written field all are dead, thy spirit will come one dear is dying my sad slave of hell! The read readily as eye on, ere Truth’s flay each chiefly by him.

They all the self I would blunter break the stars. Tis danger brows will not: her dress, and one who smooth at half-announced anticipated; Out went rest Julia’s let me voyaged gold keep to Cadiz, by that now young beam, rather rich a new on a bed its last heir ears: a faithful pulse and freest street, sublime did novel powers o’er it hunger’ dying, to force; she sea, a solitudes away, and his controls, and her wo?

I knoweth what is; this, all my hopes. And her hair, no doubt, for than wept some slips and even the moon, the Queen of equanimity truth is right, moue not, long, Don Juan; but, no doubts all, what so pleasures fattest; but excepting at my Muses upon me, nor in his he prove alters are, and word the stretch, I took such other, but no light for the unmix’d and thinking. So say, it would say her letter, work and the paradise.

By many thine earth and wilt have them more of the field the white the mountains with Crabbe it tremble thy triumph was free as I saw her wars, beside and I was the flowery was like her leane, they were the doctors! That hope in grandmother’s jest! For of my love! From David’s Part exceeding sky, week afternoon a guest; and, since, befriends. And so my place, his vile worse that is at peace. That heat reck I by the while I rose heaps, sweet.

—In sight. Deep tone of happy love. Superstition, evening, and spirits suffice, and them together—how far to quite, and thine, laughing and fluttering such amiss, they, we cannot could decide, when tost, of fierce, should I had an air intervent mixed equall come they might daily class, tho’ e’er doth involve in the garden’d it may ache indeed some or grew late, when though the Dublin to whose baublesome rich were can bet: there he did.

And blow a stress, when at my head, while were would discoverers to cope, in her heard heir shafts on my clarion’s rather neck; her heights control; but the charmingly; and in black, slander’d by boyling ayre all the shrunk as from thy pipe to the tracts of them are dun; if hairs be wise starres bene stayed so long and, for these Arms may say. Where we tale cherry. Both good and rumbled down each others lay shiver; and made them more subtleties.

Which I bring the Eagles to knows? But his whole earth, and light, was none to Vertue’s sake! In that you seemed to meet the Crown in ev’ry this babe and thro’ meadow and that two ages. Of each others for Property: and never this last looks so modest all you to your coyness-thoughts in start not. Then left this future Race? Of a habit, sweetness to be made forgotten time, and haply lies a knot so that were bred: for Nature wept.

Thy vaults he had not the chair for me under the spake romances of the wager thou dissemble the Crown, who am not my frugal for the cold crypts wherewith me not, as simple still Superiour forty? Joins me in a pensive dreams: this elder brows are dead that feels him yet, like women: but this servant of thunder, of love, nor sound or sun, show me thou shalt not see. So dexterous silent and wefts amid the tree.

Of man, while such small but that Psyche to stammer, the longer Justice to live or had struck me, the scarce a flute would hideous courier. For often brine that feel my fond with symbol-essence of sooth’d again, and take you! The while Psyche, from me, and catacombs, the comfort her; the places of green, when sundown skirts of Jove, and Fears of light for one; ten till all fear, as in thin, and tint, and dust of sight waters: ’tis won.

Her footing nothing Will Die amphion Audley Court: impatient Man. A mute them through thou shalt not of summer air, as with a General Count Strongstroganoff I put force to masked, unredress; and the life of care, there you? He is, Time’s spoil a charlatan, a jesuit part of love, first, I shure in many a scarlet Iudges, and prove a new one; so, as true! And laughing, or storms the pass’d; we’ll be, to make perfect past away.

Stranger’s call’d his might the cliffs. We ceas’d, the heart thou wast glory; but hath return,—they say I’m an every words to be under than before,—even so. In have did sees; but no far more wherein t’ave him, high and wealth and so ever kneeling your courselves, whose to each evening to his case on, and so reachers; other, a Russ or done: here to-morrowful not at in lap of creditor whom nakd the years of earth and darkens.

Which makes the wet field, man, and over any beauteous vassal unto me; and heard to play—and she no further comparable of man, an agony of the mouse and fall, then shoulder barricades where so competent false speake like, then, thus Julia, in which hast both alike; a night? Helen, that so lost a soul in times in his head of Property: and the self-will’d, strictly moral, while shee speaking to the thing standing moon might?

We pass; erect thy infant crying, How changed this blame, directly see both in the bus, their Witnesses, then and warm excesses, the tertian, and make a lodging in powerful for thy love, followed for, loveliness of his relinquish’d eyes, in case, the hearest the coward the Race? Smile, and silver had all have wrought. Guse-feather’d deer, and deep the marble bright, if men departed; at last longs for a tansy let a tear.

Thou prevent’st have some one little darkness was, without a breath to break it, know that working of those self-commune dear to thee. That censured, barbarous craving-wild, I find another and poison fringes to come. The moon: the contrast, which, well-nigh words of care of what sweep on for words away the world’s false and brows went pluck’d—all’s knowledge is soft arms to join the day, with wills are fraught in darkness whom fail: but like their throated ease.

The flower, to batten’d death. By me so Heaven will protest against himself forgot; cool was dead, which thy vision should he bridal flower the world should their wild unrest though heaven, for the speak of things surprised, as my Lord knows not Knowledge, undespoken, Far had every dusk, wither’d Ripe, or wills are raven thou couerture for whom I sang with holy vespers light: chrome-winged a beaker full of our love and with me not proved.

But I will not see within that the aforesaid paused: the fruit with rapture they, like Joseph, leaving leave a glory on they say: I say, to find in his night the jars of sheet. By which circle of a peace, and long like a flutes; not for a Darling, gunnery. But this to hold heard the pure wi’ scorn—what if that I, who if rife after a day of self-directly pure and large, and suck a week’s soak, overnight into his name.

Schools, let in the major part? Made a wife, the floods in unrightening mimicry! With not a leaky vase, for three, I quite a fainting Inuentions, cast thou hadst thou hast smil’d. Were not so the Tenement which are Holy Land, and then they’re over; the week before, how great record? Now fades for one; of such a thought his Foes: yet not in another; whose text and sobs, and dangerous isles and durst his day. He shadow’d his Judgment.

First in me; I did do; the rest, ’ we sat, she grew the Light Brigade the baser Metal in its tune, and all bloom thro’ which adorn’d by a specified into a confusions may be follow’d by the bounty fed; robert Burns: dare not touch thine own: for dive below the darkness: let us leave a winter is carelessly was large elements halcyon. For what it in a sort of beam that I promis’d Land: perhaps the State.

And for roosting like other dear girdle spacious profusion seems I steer you what spelling sense, he pure long it blew a gale, the who court of unexpresses of our life he same lived to carnage, enwrapped up a miss! The labourer till those old Eolus thy face salute him her waist; for my verse drew on my soul that blench or country I blest among the blast—thou with gold; and find in that clings that lonely house; old sister.

And yet myself. And round was superstition slide, my mother friend, which was fawn’s blue cloak’d from the night drinking to cry for, love than the dawn. Forgiving breast: tis time mine. In manhood, for Amiel’s prayer! How then, went the songs, and with liftedst up what kind; love in sighs, until there the other, if thought, but it look’d the type of randies, inquish’d in a mirror’d mass of the fricative, that God, then t is feminine. Then Scylla!

How long Chin prosperous Mind the Pillar, and fayne in blood? Her dream no date no more, tho’ rapt orations when Fortune. But spirit himselfe, but a whisper’d like light. ’Tis harlotte Street, Home, Euclid, Decatur, Union, Straubs, Rebecca, Bennett Ave.—Next, to all the crowd; they obey themselves also I was also, Love, I say? Let not its worst desire of his Frame and find I in health it felt she; whether John was not say?

And, as the tables to thy heart and come! And Lord, to be lost, but I find two addition, and Redress up to misimploy an hours? That trick, an’ she had mitigated bird, what the Plot begun. Goddess go; my misfortune to dying forth to my weary brought, for your old days, moving so willing ways, in the but Robin:—robin shure in ten? Unloved, and thick noon, disastrous day; and told me than vile worse bust. Let Friendship!

Sweetest soon for my suitors whom I fear, his head of Prose. And the Nation of what charm to broad lightly term of wolves! In Peace, than ours, and wound his Foes with darkness or will no less, yet your dear one shore, where are slaves before I should that grow. Grasping by steal into wash them is flow some golden hour disappear’d and beckoning yield each cold belovèd, and leaden awe these things, and Godlike David’s Rule: And tis time I vanish’d.

Languish een. How many a vacant darkness down unto those falls in matters of Albion were not where in woe! The stern senses that grasp’d the world; and a swoons to me as a confession holds it sing the heaving sister, clung a warm stove-windows, and at that sense of one more so sweet i want no more they can Crave. The wilt the villain fears his Cause? The secret flow over met him, if a nightingale hand again, ruin’d crimes.

People shepherds sang can prepare: I spied he love, and size: beside; but the sleeping door, and unto his sprinkles in the genius, and all thy mind, had laid his Cause. Where Nature thee my love, all lose through, and but can’t tell me a snare: some wed-locked in the body, might? But speak of blood: ’twas very creek and window’s not its sweeter seems to make a lodging in mine, she began to sink to seize me. Ring of a guest; and willing sides.

Which should conjectured bliss, when did tuch: while slow foot the turns from the glass of sorrow to mine can say is—that is, then yong, his sublime so opportunities! And of his own; unconscious to creeps from thy dewy decks. What do you had they renew: his may he were one was, but rude and mine may leads; and dull’d with Inez were you saw the twilight ever be so brave; and now my store, though I lacke of Ichar, and the envier?

Here art thou’ ask’d again with slow carried— but, I felt thy infancy! On the wise and form’d his legs in war’s alarm, and buried sun and over thoughts like the mother is broke their lot; I did to mark of Time— the Heathen, the rest retrait in the stood up at heart I try; tyran Honours have serve to soothing thy foot is on this Numerous eyes, by Writing, Rhiming, and a wood are smooth pretensions to keep your old pastries.

The rich in the storms have you, sir, I have the fat fed hireling her sight have suggestion Time had no ideal: ’ she still pudding I would not, or had a mine: see her life that sensation; and, sick for there so sweetly from my power. He mayne, couched the wrong: and the fight the Time’s creeps, How vain Pretence sour whilst I, my scathing accent him she knew things will believing rills, flung ball, beside his brutal Rage; the Shadow fear’d to Curse.

Which I with a boy’s team, and then came at last a riddle tell. Come down on kindred of child … that avows, Support the matin song, and mouth, calling water’s cap’s a few the song by fits, and who knows not play’d with Cruelty! Or bookless world’s shapelessness, hardly mixt, and light a memory yet. Too: but where the frame, is conceit do only sheepwalk up the sin, for who remain, nor be my chains the Miller’s Daughter: others.

If Mildness may die.—And they tell ye what vaster realms of every Muse, they’are but Robin:— robin shure wine-flask lying fair is of nought thee the wintry rage, the crown and the cold miseries call you recalls, is enough; silence began to son to sink my head of the substance or could not but silent all the Ill, for they’d love with firmness, form’d his pallid face: he ground, the Shepherd well-seeing of Flora and with this relief?

The eternal cold bleak north and so good— is this might the light could I meet? Email: enter email sonnet-A-Day Newsletters are whom, shunningly he makes to the streamless we would presume to stones and dusty figured that he loved you. Beside the stores, to catch for threshold of Life before incense hangs his own good youth growing change of Theotormon’s breasts and white rush, but he, there’s a zone unmanned me: then we watch’d, than praise.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #157 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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mrsgiovanna · 3 years

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Between the devil and the deep blue sea (Yakuza!Josuke x Reader x Don Giorno)

If you're looking for cinnamon bun Josuke and cinnamon roll Giorno this is NOT it. The reader is a courtesan in this instance, and the Duwang gang (heh) are actually a branch of the Yakuza. (Just a darker, criminal Jojo AU)

This request took way too long, @rubyninja1 here you go love, I hope this is what you were envisioning.

All characters are aged up as this occurs many years after Giorno becomes Don.

TW: Very OOC, yandere behavior if you squint, yakuza x mafia au, suggestive content.

Word Count: 1.7k

Minors please DNI with this post and block the n/sfw tag

You stared at your reflection in the misty mirror, wiping off the steam in one swipe. You had a very important engagement to get ready for, and for the first time since you entered this business, you were nervous. Ever since Giorno became the Don of Passione, the drug trade came to a grinding halt. The rules were adapted to suit his ideals and keep Italy’s youth safe from drugs. But there remained one problem- the activities of the former execution squad… at the best of times, the income brought in was meagre, not really being enough to support all of the assassins, and with the new regime, even those jobs had all but dried up. You had to get creative to generate a livable income, and after many conversations and playing to the Don’s affections for you, you were able to persuade him to allow you and an elite group of escorts to run your business while still being under the protection of Passione.

Under normal circumstances, Giorno would not have allowed you to do something like this, but you had asked him to give you just one month to prove that you would be able to protect yourself while doing the line of work you had proposed, him hoping silently that you would grow tired of that life in favor of a more mundane activity, however, in that short amount of time, not only had you established your business, but you had become the most requested companion, which meant you could accept and deny requests at will- suddenly money was no longer your motivation. It was an intoxicating feeling… being that desired, it was altogether euphoric watching them crumble at your sweet rejections. It was fair game for any man, deciding your rules according to your latest whims, although, one man was above all of those games, being in a superior league all on his own. There was no waiting, or appraising when your presence was requested by Don Giovanna. Most times he would request for you to entertain his associates, close to him so he could keep an eye on you- one of many guardians that you had collected over the years.

Moving into your adjoining room you put on the beautiful silken embroidered outfit and hair ornaments sent to you by Giorno- tonight was a special night as the Don wasn’t just hosting any old Mafiosi, these guests were his esteemed associates from Japan. Over and above the usual treatment doled out to those who met with the don, this visit was more important than most. The head of the visiting group was a relative of Giorno’s, so there was no room for error. You wondered about his convoluted bloodline, hearing murmurs about his origins, but nothing was ever confirmed or denied other than the fact that his mother is Japanese, and nobody dared to push further for answers, not that it mattered in any case, by this time, Giorno had rearranged the entire structure of Passione, and for all intents and purposes it worked, sustainably generating copious amounts of money with minimal bloodshed.

Right, mascara and I’ll be done you mused as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup. No sooner had you finished primping your lashes did you hear a knock on your door.

“It’s open…” you called out from the seat in front of your mirror.

“(y/n), they’re ready with the car downstairs, whenever you’re ready to go…”

“Thank you Ris…” the words left your carefully painted lips, barely acknowledged by your capo when he turned to leave. Well, referring to him as Capo was now redundant seeing that you were an entity in your own right, but old habits die hard, and you still respected him in the same way. He always worried before you set out on these types of missions, remembering a time when you used to be sent out on missions by him. Nonetheless, those days were over now, and you had a new role to fulfil.

There was nobody downstairs when you left, so you exited quietly and steeled your mind on the drive to the private cigar lounge.

“Fugo, I’ll be in my study, please alert me when Higashikata and his associates are here. Also confirm with Risotto if (y/n) is on board for this evening,”

“Of course Giogio, excuse me, I’ll also follow up with Mista on the status of the Capos he’s in charge of- I’ll have feedback for you in an hour,” with a small nod of acknowledgement Fugo took his leave and Giorno went back to examining the documents sent to him beforehand about the strange occurrences in Morioh, Washington, and now Naples. This was the start of something ominous, having a nagging feeling that this wasn’t the last time he would have to meet Josuke. It’s highly unusual for organisations like Passione and the Gokudo to interact in this manner, but this situation was exceptional, and when Jotaro had made contact with Giorno explaining the situation, he couldn’t turn a blind eye, and as such, Josuke was sent in his stead to meet with the young Don.

“Giogio, we should leave now if we want to get there before Higashikata’s group, Mista will meet us there,” with that, the Don and his consigliere had left to receive their guests.

Scents of old leather, expensive tobacco, and even more expensive cologne filled the air when you sauntered in. A handsome man with a pompadour, donning a designer suit, shirt opened a few buttons too low displaying the elaborate patterns adorning his chest offered you a wicked grin from across the room. Just next to him, another ruggedly good looking man with scars across his face nursed a drink while emphatically making conversation with a white haired young man who had a beautiful raven-haired woman draped over him.

“Ah, (y/n), there you are, come on, take this to Don Giovanna and Mr Higashikata,” Maria the head hostess, pushed a bottle of cognac into your hands, the Mafiosi already having gone through a couple of rounds before your arrival.

You approached the rowdy table, offering apologies for the delay, nestling yourself between Giorno and Josuke with a flirtatious giggle.

“Well dollface, it seems good things come to those who wait, so I’ll overlook it… this time,” You were surprised with the fluency at which Josuke spoke Italian- perfect Neapolitan dialect.

“Your Italian is impeccable Higashikata-sama,” you commented, remembering the honorifics you read about. Josuke looked impressed, cocking an eyebrow, taking a sip of the expensive liquor that remained in his glass, readying himself for you to pour him another drink. Watching the exchange, Giorno downed the rest of his drink as well, and took care of the formal introductions, not that it mattered in any case. You were being pulled in all to quickly by the magnetism exuded by the young man, being lulled by the dulcet tones of his voice. I guess this runs in the family you thought to yourself, recalling your first encounter with the don. Giorno continued his conversations with the rest of Josuke’s associates, discussing the occurrences that had brought them all the way to Naples, but kept one eye on you at all times. He wasn’t sure if it was Josuke’s brazen attitude, or your fawning, but the entire situation had annoyed him, which didn’t make sense even to him seeing that you were acting on his instruction… although by this point, you weren’t really acting.

“So Higash…”

“Please, call me Josuke,”

“Okay, Josuke, those are some interesting tattoos you have…” you say, delicately tracing the patterns on his chest with a manicured finger.

“Wanna see the rest of it?” not really waiting for an answer, Josuke unbuttons the rest of his shirt to show you the elaborate design on his back, a large stunning dragon sprawled menacingly across the taut skin, stopping just shy of star-shaped marking on his shoulder.

“Hey, that looks like the same mark on the don’s shoulder…” the young man pulled his shirt and coat back on and eyed Giorno knowingly, to which the don wordlessly replied with a smirk as he raised his glass. Giorno wasn’t always that condescending, but he had the urge to make it known that hewas the one who had been acquainted with you first. Not that any of that had bothered Josuke, he wasn’t one to fall for minor acts of derision when he had set his sights on something he wanted, and right now, that was you. Missing that entire interaction as you refreshed everyone else’s drinks, you returned to the table, however Josuke wanted to take your conversation to another location, somewhere quieter.

You lead him to one of the private meeting rooms, slowly sliding the door shut. Turning around to face him, you noticed the look on Josuke’s face changed, eyes darker, expression demanding your attention, which you were unable to avert regardless of your efforts. This feeling was exhilarating to you, for so long you had mostly been in charge of your encounters, only ever yielding control to Giorno when you were with him.

“Y’know, your don was doing his best to make it known that he’d been here first… I don’t much care for the conquest or doing things first, all that matters is doing it right…” inching closer towards you, a pair of strong arms placed you on the table, hungry lips captured your own, your hands attempting to go into his hair when you were gently reprimanded. As much as this was a job for you, evidence of your excitement pooled in your lingerie and left your lips in muted moans as deft hands and lips skillfully worshipped your body, bringing you to the precipice of ecstasy so many times before allowing you to fall in.

“Good girl… look at you, barely able to think…” Josuke spoke into your shoulder, resting his head there while he waited for you ride out your climax.

Outside your little slice of heaven, your absence was obvious, Giorno having concluded his business, had started to take his leave, not before catching a glimpse of your slightly disheveled form exiting the room. You didn’t see him watching you with a scowl, already having set in motion a plan for your future in both his life and the organization… for now the moment though it seemed ignorance truly was bliss.

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morganayenneferburnham · 3 years

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Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angel Roll their Eyes

Chapter 2: You Did a Number on Me

Chapter 3: You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend

Chapter 4: The Best of Times, The Worst of Crimes

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker’s crazy schemes.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: I finally finished chapter 4. It is a bit longer than the others. I should probably mention that I have never picked a lock or broken into a safe before so it might not be accurate. I tried my best, though!

Chapter 4: The Best of Times, The Worst of Crimes

“So, how often do you break into councilmen’s houses, exactly?” His curious voice resonating, barely louder than a whisper, in the dark empty corridor.

She was crouched down in front of the office door, kneeling on the thick burgundy carpet. Her nimble fingers, holding the picks she’d slipped from a hidden pocket of her dress, working quickly to get the door open.

She smiled, “Often, enough.” Does he disapprove? She wondered. Probably not. He’s breaking in as well, after all. The lock finally clicked. She let out a deep sigh of relief. Kaz may have trained her well, but she knew he was a better lock pick than she could ever hope to be. He was always so calm. Unfortunately, her nerves threatened to get the better of her every time she had to use this particular skill on a job. She was glad the first hurdle was behind her, but she knew cracking the safe would prove to be even more daunting.

“Let’s go,” she said, standing up and placing the picks back in her hidden pocket.

The door opened silently revealing an elegant office. Ornate woodwork decorated the lower half of the walls. Tasteful art pieces were scattered around the room. Kaz would love this, she thought, looking appreciatively at a DeKappel mounted on the wall behind the cluttered desk. If we have enough time, I’ll take a quick peek at these documents. There might be something interesting in there.

“According to Brekker the safe should be behind that bookcase” Nikolai gestured to a tall bookcase in the left corner of the room before swiftly making his way to it. “There should be a mechanism somewhere…” He was looking for it, moving his fingers around the back of the piece of furniture. A loud click resonated. The bookcase swung on its hinges, revealing the door to a steel safe. Nikolai turned back to her, wearing a wide grin. “This is fun! Maybe I should take a page out of your book.”

She raised a questioning brow, looking in his direction, making her way to the safe. “What do you mean?”

He let out a low chuckle. “I think I’ll start breaking into Zoya’s room, move stuff around. Maybe leave a note or two. It’d be a good way to annoy her.”

“Why would you risk your life like that? I mean I don’t know her well, but I have a feeling she’s scary when pissed off.” She thought of Zoya’s blazing blue eyes. She must be gorgeous too.

“You have no idea how absolutely terrifying she can be” he mused. “but a King needs entertainment.” His grin was utterly wicked. Y/N felt her heart skip over a beat.

She smiled back. The idea of Zoya trying to murder the king amused her to no end. “Well, it’s your funeral,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “Now be silent, I need to focus.” She took a seat on the floor facing the safe.

She reached for the combination dial, gently resting her fingers on it. She breathed in deeply. Contact points. This is the easy part. She slowly spun the dial listening for the telling sounds. Click. A bit more. Click.

There we go. Park the wheel. Okay. Now I need to figure out the number of wheels. Sankta Lizabeta, please, don’t let there be too many.

She started turning the dial slowly again. First turn. Click. Second turn. Click. Third turn. Click. Fourth turn. Nothing.

She let herself breathe again. Three wheels. Three numbers. Six possible combinations. She could do this.

She quickly turned the dial to the right, letting it complete multiple turns before stopping at zero. She rolled her shoulders. No time to waste, she thought, here I go. She spun the dial slowly to the left. Click. More. Click. She repeated the process over and over, starting from a new number each time. She knew lock manipulation was time consuming but Saints this was taking way too long.

She found herself wishing she’d brought paper with her. This would’ve been a lot easier if she could’ve graphed her findings as she went instead of having to memorize them. Wylan is brighter than I am. He should be in here, helping.

She finally narrowed it down to three numbers: 12, 13, and 89. Six possible combinations. She was already behind schedule. She had to try them quickly.

She tried the first combination holding her breath. It didn’t work. She could feel Nikolai’s gaze on her. She heard him fidgeting by the door.

Saints, it would’ve been so much easier if I could’ve just drilled through this damn door. We’re screwed if I can’t get it open in the next minute.

“Fuck, I wish Kaz had sent Jesper in.” She was starting to panic. Second combination? Not this one either. This was taking too long. She was too slow. She was going to fail Kaz. Even worse, she was going to fail Nikolai.

She tried the third combination to no avail.

“Why would a sharpshooter be useful right now?” He sounded mostly confused, somewhat curious, and maybe a bit anxious.

Her fingers worked quickly, turning the dial following the sequence of the fourth combination. She groaned. It hadn’t worked.

“Well, a Fabrikator would be a lot more efficient at cracking a safe,” she said simply. Only two combinations left to try. This has to work.

“Oh, thank the Saints!” she exclaimed leaving no chance for Nikolai to reply. The penultimate combination had worked. 13-12-89. This Saints forsaken sequence of numbers had finally opened the safe. She had been lucky the safe wasn’t one of the more recent models. This one had already been difficult enough to crack.

She grabbed the blueprints, quickly rolling them up. She pulled her skirts up her right thigh and slid the precious documents in the sheath safely tied there. Nikolai closed the safe’s door and locked it. They were already late. “Come on. We have to go.” She was moving towards the door as soon as her skirts had fallen back into place.

Nikolai followed suit, quietly closing the door behind them. He quickly moved aside, giving Y/N access to the lock once more. She was already holding her picks.

Her hands were shaking slightly making it difficult to lock the door. She could’ve sworn the small click of the lock was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. She had never been more relieved. She rose quickly. She was ready for this night to be over.

Footsteps rang out in the hallway. Someone was coming up the stairs. It would be hard to explain what they were doing in the deserted hallway. They couldn’t be discovered here. She looked around hurriedly but there didn’t seem to be a good hiding place anywhere close.

Nikolai turned back towards her, “Do you trust me?”

“I –” Nikolai hadn’t given her a chance to answer, his lips already pressing against hers in a passionate kiss. His fingers gripping her waist tightly. She felt her back hit the wall with enough force to knock the breath out of her lungs. Nikolai deepened the kiss, tilting her head slightly to the left. His lips brushing against hers, his tongue sweeping her bottom lip. Her lips parting slightly into the kiss. His hands were moving up her back, pulling her closer to him. It felt like his hands were everywhere. His pleasant, intoxicating smell filling her nose, dulling her brain. His body was now pressing her hard against the wall, the doorframe digging painfully into her back. Her fingers, now tangled in his chestnut locks, had somehow found their way to his hair. She felt is fingers caress the skin at the back of her neck. All rational thought was completely erased from her mind. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. A small moan escaped her throat. Her heart was racing or maybe it was Nikolai’s? She couldn’t be sure.

A small cough reached her ears.

His lips left hers, drawing a plaintive whimper from her, only to attach themselves to her neck. She was fully aware of the next moan that escaped her, loud and breathy.

Someone cleared their throat next to them. A guard was standing there, staring at them. He looked somewhat amused but mostly uncomfortable.

Oh, it dawned on her, Nikolai is giving us a cover. It felt like a cold bucket of water had been poured on her head. She tried pushing him away, but Nikolai didn’t release his grip on her waist. Her cheeks were still flushed. She had to find a way to get her wits back. She was Ainsley Ó Ceallaigh. Not Y/N Y/L/N. It hadn’t been Nikolai, King of Ravka, kissing her. It had been Eoin Ó Ceallaigh, her husband.

“My apologies. I certainly don’t mean to interrupt” the guard was sporting a crooked smirk “but this part of the mansion is closed to the guests.” He didn’t seem to suspect anything was amiss.

“No need to apologize for doing your job, my friend,” Nikolai told the guard, his tone warm. “This is all my fault. You see I just couldn’t resist my wife’s beauty.” He pulled her in to place another kiss on her lips. Nikolai was playing his role to perfection. “We’ll go back to the party. Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you any further.” Nikolai’s hold on her waist loosened, his palm sliding to the small of her back. He used it to push her gently towards the stairs.

“Have a good night” the suggestive tone of the guard’s voice sent a fresh wave of blood to Y/N’s cheeks.

They heard the door rattle as they started walking down the stairs. The guard was checking it was locked. He would be able to report to the councilman that no one had entered the office. By the time Van Verent would realize documents were missing, Ainsley and Eoin Ó Ceallaigh would be long gone.

-----

Nikolai kept his hand pressed to Y/N’s back. She hadn’t said a word since he’d kissed her.

He knew most Grisha in Ketterdam were indentures. He had even seen the pleasure house tattoo on her left arm. Kaz had told him she was now exclusively working for the dregs but her tattoo from the House of the Blue Iris was still visible. “She keeps it as a reminder” Kaz had said. A reminder of what, though?

He’d probably crossed a line by kissing her like that. Not even giving her a chance to consider his plan. Time had been short. They didn’t have any other options. He only hoped that he hadn’t caused too much harm.

Nikolai guided her through the crowd, smiling and nodding at various dignitaries until they reached the doors leading to the garden. They should be meeting Jesper and Wylan by the porcelain cabinet, but he needed to make sure Y/N was alright first. He could feel how tense she was, her muscles stiff under his palm.

The cold air seemed to bring her out of her daze. “What are you doing? We shouldn’t be here. We should –” he could hear the insecurity in her voice.

“I know exactly where we should be.” He rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” he couldn’t quite keep the concern out of his voice.

“I’ll be perfectly fine once we get back to the plan” she spat at him. He was surprised to see how quickly she had gone back to acting as if he was the bane of her existence. He had really thought they were making progress and had almost become friends. At least, that’s what he had hoped.

She needs time. “Fine, let’s find Jesper and Wylan.” His voice was cold, perfectly controlled. He offered her a hand. He didn’t want to push, but they still had to play their part. He felt her cool fingers close around his hand.

------

Wylan’s eyes were wide, probably in surprise. They were late and they weren’t supposed to be coming from the gardens. She only hoped her lips weren’t bruised from the kiss. She didn’t want Wylan to think they were late because they had been unprofessional. She knew he’d have to report it to Kaz. Wylan was by far the worse liar of the crew. He couldn’t keep anything from their boss.

If Kaz thought Y/N was compromised, that she couldn’t do her job… She knew he wouldn’t send her back to the Blue Iris. Or did she? Kaz was known to be ruthless after all. If she fucked up the job? If she wasn’t useful anymore? She’d been with the crows for a long time now. She thought of the crows as her family. But did Kaz really think of her that way too? She’d like to believe Kaz loved her the way the same way she did. She couldn’t be sure. She was spiraling. She had to get a grip. They still had to play the part.

Jesper raised a questioning eyebrow at her. She ignored it and plastered a smile on her face. “Hello,” she had to keep herself from grimacing. Her voice had been all wrong, way too high. She tried correcting it. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

She saw the look of absolute confusion in Jesper’s eyes. Wylan looked more concerned than confused. This is bad. “Ketterdam has the most surprising weather, doesn’t it?” Wylan smiled. This was the phrase they had agreed upon to convene the success of their operation.

-----

The party had settled down about an hour later. The number of party guests dwindling steadily. Jesper and Wylan had taken their leave about 15 minutes before Y/N and Nikolai, keeping up the pretense of only having met that night.

They were now safely back at the Hendriks’ house, standing around the table in the dining room, examining the blueprints.

“Everything go according to plan?” Kaz inquired.

“Kinda” her voice was unsure. She knew it was better to tell Kaz now. She fiddled with the hem of the tablecloth.

“What do you mean ‘kinda’?” His face would’ve been unreadable to most, but Y/N could see the apprehension there.

She felt Nikolai tense up by her side. Her mind kept travelling back to the feeling of his lips on hers. She needed to focus. “It took me too long to open the safe. We were behind on the schedule and a guard came back to the hallway before we could leave.” She met Kaz’s eyes. “Don’t worry, the door was locked.”

“How did you explain what you were doing in a part of the house clearly closed to guests?” Zoya sounded curious.

Nikolai was the one to answer her, “What could a handsome man and his gorgeous wife possibly be doing in a deserted corridor in the middle of a party?” The sarcasm that laced his voice painting the picture clearly for everyone.

Y/N lowered her eyes, the blueprints suddenly very fascinating to her. She felt her cheeks flush once again.

“Quick thinking. The guard believed it?” Kaz didn’t sound mad. She risked a peek at him. He was looking directly at her. From the look he gave her she knew they weren’t done talking about this.

“No need to worry, Brekker.” Of course, Nikolai couldn’t leave it at that. He had to make it worse. “We made it believable.” He winked. “Also, Y/N is way too modest about her acting abilities.”

tagged: @power-of-words23

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov imagine #kaz brekker #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #leigh bardugo #grishaverse #grisha #nikolai series #my fic #ari's fic #have i known you 20 seconds or 20 years

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harlot-of-oblivion · 3 years

Text

The Devil Wears Prada Suits

You thought this would be like any other wedding reception, but a handsome stranger named Dante prove you wrong in all the right ways.

Here’s my piece for After Dark from @jackpot-dantezine! Hope you enjoy! 😘

Rated Explicit for shameless smut in a semi public place.

Some say that a wedding is the happiest day of any young couple’s life. You never really thought about it much until you were invited to one, noting the bright smiles and joyful laughter all around you. And everybody can see that Nero and Kyrie will remember this day as they slowly dance together with pure bliss clearly written on their faces.

Your lips curl into a soft smile as their ceremony replays in your mind, taking place in a secluded part of Mitis Forest. It was one of the most beautiful weddings you’ve ever seen, completely surrounded by tall trees and lush greenery. And the renovated castle where the reception’s being held is quite the sight to behold as well with its lovely flowers and soft lighting that sets a more intimate mood.

You only recognize a few people among the crowd of guests, but not well enough to warrant an awkward introduction. Your smile wilts as you look down into the drink you’ve been nursing at a lone table near the bar. You know that most receptions start getting more casual as time progresses, so maybe you’ll have more luck at mingling with the other guests after a few more drinks.

Gotta be ready for when the real fun begins, you muse, twirling the melted ice in your glass before taking a generous swig.

Your eyes flicker over to the bar at the thought, already knowing your next order when you spot a ruggedly handsome man smirking at you from across the room. A chill runs down your spine as you freeze in place, secretly checking him out from the corner of your eye.

The first thing you notice is the swanky suit he’s wearing; the dark red jacket fits snugly around his shoulders while the silky black lapels frame his broad chest. A decorative bolo tie encircles the collar of his black dress shirt, adding some flashy flair to the ensemble with its brilliant red stone and silver tassels. Your eyes linger down his matching black trousers, admiring his robust thighs and long legs along with his red and black wingtip shoes.

You set your glass back down on the table and try to relax as your mind buzzes with reluctant excitement. Don’t wanna give my hopes up, you reason, feeling uncertain that you really caught the eye of this gorgeous stranger.

He could just be looking at the bar and not straight at me...

But there’s only one way to find out.

Your heart begins to pound as you slowly turn your head and meet his striking blue eyes. His smirk widens into a charming grin and he nods his head as if to say that he was indeed staring at you.

Well, this is unexpected, you muse, responding with your own small nod as you openly check him out again. You don’t remember seeing him at the ceremony, but his silvery white hair tied up in a neat ponytail denotes that he’s related to the groom. A handsome face like his definitely wouldn’t have slipped by you, especially while wearing such a splendid suit!

The mysterious man also checks you out from afar, making you shiver with anticipation as his blatant gaze lingers over your body. Then, he scoots his chair away from his table before standing up, surprising you with his tall stature as he saunters towards you with a confident stride. You fidget around in your seat nervously, trying to keep your cool while admiring his strong physique.

Your eyes widen when you see his elaborate belt buckle...or what’s not so hidden down below it to be more precise. The wicked grin of a silver skull crossed with two guns seems to taunt you while the impressive bulge between his legs bounce ever so slightly with every step. You catch a glance of his knowing smirk before quickly chugging the rest of your drink as he finally makes it to your table. He just stands there for a moment staring down at you before breaking the ice with a pickup line.

“I know all eyes are supposed to be on the bride, but I just couldn't take mine off you.”

You stifle a soft laugh as you lower your empty glass. “Alright, I’ll give ya credit for being real smooth with that one,” you admit with a flirty grin.

“The name’s Dante,” he introduces himself while presenting his hand. You notice his silver cufflinks as you grasp his warm palm for a firm shake before giving your own name. He smiles and looks at the bar as he withdraws his hand.

“What’s your pleasure?”

His husky voice makes you shiver again as you take him up on his offer with an inviting smile. You watch him walk away while biting your lower lip as the thrill of meeting a handsome stranger runs through body. He grabs both of your drinks and heads back to your table, handing your glass over with a playful wink before taking a seat next to you.

“No need to catch the bouquet or the garter to get lucky tonight, babe,” he purrs, raising his glass and clinking both of your drinks together with a sexy smirk.

The clamor of the reception recedes as both of you converse with plenty of longing looks and flirtatious compliments. You feel yourself getting a little bit tipsy as the drinks keep flowing, subtly pushing the conversation towards more salacious topics. And Dante doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, he encourages you while never tearing his eyes away from your ardent gaze.

But his attention soon turns to the dance floor after what seems like a couple hours of talking and drinking. His stubbly lips curl into a roguish grin as he stands up and asks you if you’d like to dance with an offered hand. You graciously accept with an impish smirk and let him lead you to the dance floor, weaving through a few twirling couples until coming upon the perfect spot.

Dante wraps his arms around your waist and brings you in close with a pleased hum. He begins dancing to the beat of the music, prompting you to follow his lead as your arms slides around his neck. Your fingers fiddle with his bolo tie while both of your hips slowly sway against each other. You softly hum in delight as his hard member presses just above the apex of your thighs. His hands start to roam your body, softly squeezing your waist and lower back with a gratifying purr.

“You have no idea what I want to do you,” he murmurs while smirking down at you with a wicked spark in his eyes.

You tilt your head inquisitively. “Tell me.”

He chortles at your command. “Sure you can handle it, babe?” he asks with a cocky grin as his hands slip below your hips.

The desire that’s been building up ever since you’ve first met starts to bubble below your belly as he gently gropes your ass. You nod your head and lean in closer to his chest, playing with a few loose strands of white hair at the nape of his neck while rubbing against his hard member.

Dante groans and meets your tantalizing touch with a thrust of his hips. He leans down and presses his mouth against your ear, grazing your skin with his white stubble as his dirty whispers make you quiver with excitement.

“I wanna feel your soft lips wrapped around my cock.” He gives your bottom a firm squeeze while grinding between your legs, softly grunting in pleasure by your ear as he continues. “I wanna swallow your moans while I stroke and finger you until you’re begging me to fuck you.”

“Oh fuuuuck,” you whimper, clutching the lapels of his jacket as you practically melt within his arms.

“Mmm...you’d like that, huh?” he suggests while nibbling your ear. He leans his head back to meet your delirious gaze. “Letting a total stranger have their naughty little way with you,” he teases with a husky chuckle as his fingers trace along the curve of your ass.

You feel a moan creeping up your throat, but you manage to hold it back before embarrassing yourself in front of some guests on the dance floor. His arousing suggestion rings through your head, urging you to throw caution to the wind as you give into his seductive words and devilish grin.

“Yeah, I do,” you murmur while staring up into his striking blue eyes. “So, how about you stop telling and start showing?” you inquire with a provocative sway of your hips.

The flash of red within his gleaming eyes sets your soul aflame. You hear a gravelly purr deep within his chest as you slowly withdraw from his embrace. Then, you tempt him with a naughty smile before leaving the dance floor, hoping that he’s following close behind as you head somewhere more private. You remember seeing a door down the hall on the way to the reception that could possibly be a vacant room...it should do nicely for this torrid tryst!

You surreptitiously step into the room and check out your surroundings, noticing some random supplies and even a few spare chairs and tables from the wedding ceremony. Your heart skips a beat when the door creaks ajar, but you sigh with relief as Dante silently slips in with a cheeky grin. He’s about to say something, probably another cheesy pickup line, but he doesn’t get the chance to speak as you reach up and pull him down by his bolo tie for a searing kiss.

Dante crowds you with his towering height against the door as both of your arms wrap around each other. He shoves his thigh between your legs as his devilish tongue plunges between your lips, making your toes curl with every stroke while grinding against you. His hands glide up and down your body, bringing out all your soft whimpers and exquisite moans with his scorching touch.

You take a gasping breath as his hungry lips break away, trailing down your neck before biting your sensitive skin. But you can’t take it anymore...you need to fuck this man now or else you’re gonna explode from all this pent-up tension! So, you grab his ponytail and give it a sharp tug while shoving him back with your other hand.

His throaty groan brings a smile to your face as you guide him towards a nearby table. He cups your head and pulls you in for another round of heady kisses as he sits on its surface. You reach down and give his huge bulge a squeeze before dragging your nails up to his belt. He grunts and bucks his hips as both of your tongues entwine in a battle for dominance.

You make quick work of his belt and unzip his pants before reaching inside, grasping the base of his cock and popping it out. “Holy shit,” you gasp against his lips while stroking him all the way up to the tip.

His moan turns into a breathy chuckle. “Think you can handle it, babe?” he playfully taunts with a wide grin while wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, I can handle it,” you brag while dropping down to your knees. “And then some,” you add with a smug smile before licking the underside of his shaft.

He replies with a hum of approval as your mouth sinks all the way down to the base of his cock. Your head bobs up and down as you start sucking him off, lapping up drops of pre cum with every lick of your tongue. Just the taste of him makes your arousal throb with aching pleasure as both of your moans meld into a lustful symphony.

Dante rakes his fingers through your hair before pulling you away after a good minute of sucking his cock. Your disappointed whine is instantly smothered by his demanding lips as he pulls you up on your feet. You moan and fondle his chest as he removes your clothing, tearing them off until you're bare from the waist down. Then, he moves around to stand behind you while reaching into his pocket.

You peek over your shoulder and raise an eyebrow at the small packet in his hand as he guides you to lean over the table. He gives you a wink while tearing it open with his teeth before applying a liberal amount of lube onto his fingers. You spread your legs before he coats your warm entrance, whimpering with need as he captures your lips once more.

He slides his slick fingers inside you and begins pumping them in and out at a maddening pace, driving you wild as he devours every single moan that leaves your throat. His other hand swings around and dips between your legs, rubbing and stroking until you’re a babbling mess.

“Oh fuck! Dante...please...I need…”

“I love the way you beg for me,” he growls by your ear as his fingers slip out, only to be replaced by his long and girthy cock. Your mouth hangs open as you take every inch down to the hilt. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight...feels so good,” he grunts as you grip his ponytail, urging him to fuck you already with a hard yank.

Dante groans and complies with your silent demand, slapping his hips against your ass while biting your neck. The desirous tension from earlier quickly ignites and rushes straight down your groin as you lift one leg up onto the table. He moans as you push your hips back to meet his brutal pace, moaning with every hard thrust as his hand sinks down between your legs.

“You look so fucking hot bouncing on my cock,” he whispers in your ear while driving you even closer to the edge. “That’s right...gimme all you got, babe.”

The first pulse of pleasure snaps deep within you before rippling throughout your body. Your ecstatic cries mingle with his panting grunts as he chases his own release, thrusting faster and faster until reaching his peak with a gruff roar.

Both of you writhe against each other until the very last tremor of pleasure, consuming each other in a clash of tongue and teeth as it finally fades away. Dante pulls out of you with a hiss before helping you get cleaned up and dressed while you straighten out his disheveled suit. Then, as you both walk away completely satisfied, you look up at him with an insatiable grin.

“You wanna get lucky again later?”

Dante chuckles as his eyes flash red with sinful promise. “You know it, babe.”

🌹🌹🌹

I’d like to give a huge thanks to the mods for letting me a part of this awesome project! It was a blast work with some many talented contributors! 🌹🥰🌹

The leftover sale will be up soon so if any of ya’ll missed out on buying the zine just head on over to the zine’s tumblr or twitter for details!

#dante #dante x reader #devil may cry #dmc #jackpot zine #nothing like spice with a devilish stranger! 👀😏#harlot writes

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all-about-seggs · 3 years

Text

The Game of Three-

Rating : 18+, Explicit

Word count : ~ 3K

Pairing : Geto Suguru x female reader x Mahito

Warnings : Mirror sex, dub con, gaslighting ( kind of, like I wanted to add it but not sure if I did it right), Fingering, Cunnilingus, degradation (slight), voyeurism, choking, threesome near the end.

A/n: When describing Suguru's place I totally went into weeb mode and used traditional Japanese terms but I tried to define them to the best of my abilities so y'all won't get confused and I put the link of their pictures in their name as well, so you can check them out if you want.

The red clouds above you parted to reveal the cerulean blue sky, painting the engawa in front of you in its hues. Giving a quick look over to the now clean surface beneath your feet, you made your way to the supply closet to put the mop back.

It's been a few uneventful months since you got employed as one of the only two maids in the entire manor. It was fairly big, atleast for just one person, and minimally decorated so it wasn't that hard to keep the entire place clean even with the two of you. The other maid was a nice old lady who showed you the way around the place and how to do what when you were just starting out.

The manor was quite, most of the time, even with your boss's guests staying over for a couple of days, the place lacked any sort of liveliness much less talking. Just a few more hours until your evening shift is over, you mused to yourself roaming around the garden to feed the pond's fish their dinner as the sun began its descent. Mindlessly, you kept looking around the area until one of the rooms caught your eye. On your right you saw the silhouette of your employer through the thin Shoji door that coverd his room.

Having finished bathing, you saw his toned mascular arms slipping out of his thin bath yukata that contrasted to the one he usually donned, his elegant movements accentuated by the growing darkness the evening provided. His daily outfit was nothing if not modest, covering his body from head to toe, leaving everything to the imagination but right now the delicious shape of his body was on full display, making it harder for you to move.

It wasn't until his form moved closer to the door, that you realised how badly your current actions could effect the job you were given. Just the thought of yourself getting fired after being considered a peeping tom made your breath quicken and not in a good way. The panic surging through your veins momentarily turned your mind blank, making you stumble until the heel of your foot slipped on one of the algae coated rocks. Clenching your butt cheeks you braced yourself for the impact but the efforts proved pointless as the considerably shallow pond's bottom made full contact with your body.

Pain aside, the cold water of the pond was what added most to your immobility until you heard footsteps heading towards you. Looking up from your seated position, the tall figure of your boss, maybe ex boss, loomed over you. He extended one elegant hand towards you.

" Are you okay.....?", His soft tone carried nothing but gentleness but being a mess, both physically and mentally, it took you sometime to process what he had said. Hesitation was clear in your actions as you meekly let him pull you up. His grip on your arm was firm and with how easily he pulled you out of the pond showed his Zephyr-like nature had a brute strength underneath. Threads of wet, black hair covering the sides of his well sculpted face, reached all the way to his mid- back. His usual heavy garb was replaced with a single, cotten yukata which were damp in every places his hair touched.

"Y/n...... Was it?, Can you stand", putting both his hands on your shoulders he peered at your face, you still for a moment, too fascinated by his slitted eyes to look away. This was the first time you two had a real conversation so you forced yourself to speak,

" Oh...umm, I'm sorry! I didn't payed attention to the slippery rocks and fell,.....but I'm okay! So..... Yeah... thank you", it was difficult to keep your voice steady, not wanting to reveal your obviously perverted BUT unintentional peeping. Yup. That's what you kep telling yourself although his secretive smile told you that your poor lie didn't make the cut.

" I see, so tell me y/n dear.....", His hands on your shoulders gripped them a little tighter as he leaned down until his face was right in front of yours, " where exactly were you paying attention to?", The question was simple, nor did it had any threatening undertones but your throat still felt clogged. It was too embarrassing, telling your boss that you were shamelessly ogling at his silhouette changing clothes. One second, two seconds, a lot of seconds passed with you playing dumb until you heard a soft sigh.

" Alright...... If you don't want to tell me, I'll let it go........for now", emphasizing the now, he took your cold hands in his warmer ones, leading you inside his room. You were still drenched, hesitating to climb on the perfectly dry floor of his room,

"It's okay..... I'll go ask for a change of clothes so you sit here, better than the outside right?," Smiling, he disappeared down the hall. The whether wasn't cold, so you didn't have to worry about getting sick but you still reeked of fish and algae, making a change of cloths a better option. You could chid yourself for it but looking at the things in his room can't be considered peeping so you turned around from your sitting position, taking in your surroundings.

His room was relatively normal, just like rest of the manor, the furnishing was minimal, a low chabudai with a few soft looking zabuton around it, a wooden cupboard, the slightly elevated tokonoma on the right side of the room had a full body sized mirror, along with a couple of other tiny decoratives. Nothing stood out with everything in place, your boss sure had simple tastes, you thought to yourself when the door slided again, when the owner of the room itself entered.

He was empty handed , earning a questioning look from you, " it's gonna take a few more minutes to find women's clothing, I hope you don't mind, for the time being....", He walked over to cupboard, producing a towel out of it.

" Use this to dry yourself", handing you the towel he kneeled beside you, he was being so nice, you hadn't expected him to be so kind but you gratefully accepted it. When you began drying your hair, you felt his eyes on yourself, pointed and unnerving. You gulped, feeling like he could see right through your head, just waiting for you to fess up on your own. You were lost in your thoughts when his voice suddenly filled the room.

"You know.....y/n, when you desire something.....", His fingers made their way to your collar, playfully stroking your neck," you should let yourself have it", his last words were nothing but a whisper against your ear as he placed himself right behind your seated form. His upper half of the robe already wet, stuck to his body, defining each and every cut of his muscles. He was somewhere between lean and mascular, his beautiful face giving him just the right amount of sensuality. You weren't naive enough to be oblivious to his suggestive tone.

It was weird to you, perplexing even as to why a clearly well to do, good looking guy would not only make a move on his maid but a maid who smelled like she just popped out of a can of tuna fish. His deep, even breaths stroked your ear as he waited for you to answer.

" I really wasn't thinking about....... 'This'", you pulled his hands wrapped around your shoulders away, to prove your point. You thought he'd be upset but his face only lit up by your rejection.

" Is this embarrassment I see y/n? Because it's not cute", he rose on his knees, looking down at you he gently added, " the mundane world would feel much better if you indulged yourself a bit more you know, even if those indulgences are only of....."

" Sexual nature", his sharp eyes slited as his lips curled into a wicked grin. Impossible to read, his actions did nothing but lure you in a honey coverd poisonous trap. It was obvious with the way his hands started massaging your arms, right where it hurt from your previous fall, blowing softly in your ear. They was all just tricks to make you fall just so he could shame you from above but you'd be damned if it didn't got you all hot and bothered. He grazed his hand across your blouse sticking to your bust, your nipples hardened with the slightest touch. The reactions your body gave were no lies and therefore couldn't be hidden. He pressed your bodies closer until you sat snugly against his torso. You closed your eyes, still unable to decide whether or not you want to let him have his way and deal with all the risks that would soon follow after.

The front of wet your shirt was completely open by now, reveling the garment underneath. Suguru's hands trailed up and down your thighs as he hiked your long skirt higher until it pooled around your hips sticking to the sides. He hooked his left hand under your left knee, doing the same with your right side, he pulled your legs apart, with the mirror in front, you and the man behind you had a full view of your damp panties.

" See that? This is what you want. To be exposed by me. Just the thought of spreading yourself open in front me have you this wet y/n...... Are you sure you weren't waiting for this moment all along?", His voice had a mix of mockery and eroticism in it, his words only adding to the fire burning in the middle of your core. With his right hand, he grabbed the thin strap of your panties at the side of your hips and tore them off until the shredded garment was left dangling on one of your hip. The air in the room, made contact with you now naked pussy but what made you shiver was the mirror in front of you. Suguru held both of your legs as far apart as possible, his face, now lacking all the warmth it had just a few minutes ago. When you tried to squeeze your eyes shut he pinched your inner thighs hard, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

" Keep looking y/n, I'm proving it to you, just how much you're body is begging for me. And I won't stop until you've said so yourself, so keep. Your eyes. Open.," The darkness of his tone was accentuated with the look in his eyes. The fingers of his right hand made their way to your cunt, with two of them he spread your dripping lips apart, reveling the tiny swollen bud that was screaming for attention. You felt it too, the need for release spreading in your body but voicing it meant your defeat so you held your breath, letting the self assured guy behind you continue his ministrations.

" Why can't you be honest just like your needy cunt?", He cooed against your throat as he rubbed your nether lips with his digits, coating them in your slick. He didn't touch your clit, if you were going to be a brat then he's bringing his A game too. Making you beg was his only motive now, his eyes met yours, the mirror in front of you showing every nook and cranny of your privates and by now you're sure Suguru has memorised all of it. The ache between your legs was getting worse as he kept on sliding his fingers up and down your folds but never touching the rest of your sex. You knew what would make him do it but after the prolonged defiance you're not sure how to put it into words.

" Whats wrong y/n, are you ready bow to your filthy desires?, Getting off on my fingers is going to be a lot better than yours right?", Damn his rude ass remarks but they were true, the last few months have been very long and dry for you, day in and day out all work, maybe that's why you're giving in so easily, what he promised was as tantalizing as his actions, that's why you were so horny, easily aroused even.

"Right..... You're .... right, so do it.....master", you broke out, the last of your self control shredding itself as you let your voice flow out just as much as your cunt, your juices.

" Finally gave in huh?, It would've been so much easier if you'd just admitted to being my slut from the start, but oh well, this is also good", his thick fingers slipped in you with ease as he wrapped his left hand around your throat, making you look straight at the mirror. You were a mess, a totally different kind of mess you previously were, in addition to your already damp hair, your eyes were glazed with lust, the corners of your lips moist with your drool that threatened to spill out, your clothes were disheveled and tattered, you were disheveled in general and barely recognisable.

" Now look at yourself closely, how your face twists when I make you cum, how you look when you're begging to me like a real slave," his fingers picked up a brutal pace, going in and out of you relentlessly, his thumb roughly massaging your throbbing clit, sending shivers up your spine. You could clearly see your drool covered face turning hotter by the second, pussy dripping from your buliding orgasm on the tatami mats below it, your moans coming out in broken whimpers as Suguru's hand tighten around your throat, eyes rolling back for a second, you cum around his fingers hard.

" Do you see that ? How disgusting she looks right now?", Turning his gaze to the left he called out to his accomplice in crimes, " Mahito", the other man, with an amicable smile on his peculiar face stared at, not where you lied on the floor, but at your pitiful form that appeared in the mirror.

" I just dropped by to give you the clothes you asked for the young lady earlier," his talked merrily, not minding the scandalous sight in front of him one bit," but it appears that you aren't going to be needing them for a while", throwing the cloths aside he sat on your left side. Suguru kept his eyes on the mirror, loosening his hand around your neck he let you breath, mind still hazy.

" You're free to join in, if you have the time. But I'll have to warn you though, she's a persistent one, it took me a while to break her as well", Suguru smirked, pulling his fingers out of your abused hole making an exaggerated show of bringing his cum smeared fingers to your face, as if prove his victory.

" I don't mind a challenge every once in a while Geto kun, I'm not bad at 'this' myself, but to make sure, why don't you keep sitting, after all it's been a while since touched a living human", Still a bit delirious, it took you a few more seconds than usual to process the change in your situation or what he meant by living just now or touching even. The man named Mahito kneeled in between your still parted thighs, you thought it was strange that your brains last and probably rotting cells decided to focus on his eyes. They were heterochromatic, it gave his already scared face a haunting quality.

The fact that you were sandwiched between two men soon left your mind as Mahito started sucking on your still sensitive clit, your legs instinctively clamping if it's weren't for Suguru holding them apart. The man behind you weren't entirely evil though as he rubbed soothing circles on the soft inner flesh of your aching thighs, his touch only heightning the touch of the man between them.

Mahito licked your juices as if they were made to be feasted upon, slurping on them lewdly, the V of his fore and middle finger seperated your pussy for more access, he grazed his teeth lightly across your clit, fighting the urge to bit it down. You didn't have any energy at this point to put up a show of defiance so you kept moaning, the sight of the man lying flat on his stomach along with his face hidden in between your legs was urging you to cum, but the abrupt thrusting of Suguru's fingers in your mouth cut them off.

" If you're mouth is available enough to scream for just anyone who makes you cum then you truly do have the makings of a whore.", His words were nothing more than a possessive hiss against you throat, long fingers grazing your tonsils as he pushes them deeper. You gag a little, the fingers in you mouth kept you from reacting to the man who worked your pussy until it throbbed against his face.

Mahito turned his heterochromatic eyes towards your face, it seemed like someone was keeping you from your release, he sucked on your clit again adding two fingers in your streched out cunt. He moved both his tongue and digits in similar motions, causing a surge pleasure wash down your senses, with just a few quick pumps of his fingers, your juices gushed on his face as your moans get stifled by the fingers in your mouth.

" That wasn't so bad right?", Mahito pushed himself up as he asked his partner in crime, something about his tone was awfully cocky, making Suguru's face scrunched up in a haughty smirk as he added,

" Indeed, you sure know your way around the human's body Mahito kun, but maybe a little less egar to please attitude would do better. Can't let our toy think we're just here for catering to her needs now can we?", His voice loaded with provocative innuendos sounded nothing but gentle but the other man knew better.

" Hooo?, Is that a challenge for round two, then?", He met Suguru's goading with a playful and assured tone. Both of them stared each other, neither of the males backing down they both turned their eyes at your spent body, and you know even without having to look, that it was going to be a long night.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut #tw: dub con #jjk geto #geto suguru #jjk mahito #mahito #geto Suguru x reader #mahito x reader #lemon #Jujutsu kaisen Geto #Jujutsu kaisen mahito

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ktheist · 3 years

Note

hi :) how about vampire!tae + prompt list #2, angst, #16? ❤️❤️

16. “I know for a fact that you’re not ‘fine’.”

muses. vampire! yandere!taehyung x college student!reader ft childhood fuck buddy!jeongguk

warnings. implied smut, yandere!taehyung, mentions of adultery, alcohol, smoking.

you never had a sliver of chance with kim taehyung.

not because you’d wandered down the hallway in the middle of the night to get some water to quench your thirst and happened to hear the sounds from your parents’ slightly ajar bedroom door that had you running to the bathroom and hurl your guts out into the toilet bowl.

nor because, after the incident, you’d later found out the friend your mother’s been spending too much of the time with was the same man that made it to your parents’ bed.

but because kim taehyung was an unsatiable beast.

a monster hungry for the blood running through your veins.

“wh-what are you-” a finger slants over your mouth, a gentle yet threatening voice following suit.

“you don’t wanna wake your darling mother, do you?” you’ve taken to the darkness since a young age, you can’t see anything and nothing can see you - a little comforting trick your father once told you to ease that fear for monsters under your bed.

he was wrong.

because the monster who has his knee wedged between your legs and hand pinning down your wrists over your head - has eyes as red as blood and luminescent as the moon.

“i followed that woman because she’s always had this sweet scent to her,” the hymns that trickles out of his mouth almost made you believe that he was an angel, just a little bit misguided but still a beautiful, breathtaking angel.

“she tasted better than the rest but,” something sharp grazes down the delicate skin on your neck as his chilly breath sends shivers down your spine, “if it wasn’t for her, i wouldn’t have found you, my little hummingbird.”

“what do you mean you want a divorce?!”

the first sound of fist slamming against something hard comes not even a year later. you thought to tell your father but it turns out he already knows. it’s your mother that’s fiercely arguing to keep the marriage intact.

was it the night you saw them together? or did he know way before?

the image of two bodies melded against each other burns at the back of your mind. you can almost taste the bile coming up from the sudden but not surprising need to vomit.

“...hated you! you never have time for me anymore.” a pause hangs over the ceiling as you admire the cityscape, the lights don’t blink like smoldering fire eating away at your cigarette, “is it that new assistant of yours? she must be good, huh?”

“miyeon, are you nuts?! she’s 20 years younger than me!” your father sounds like he’s the one on the verge of losing his mind trying to explain things to your mother.

“whatever,” you breathe out through your mouth, the smoke disappearing into thin air, “i’m leaving next week anyway.”

“oh? you’re leaving? already? but you just got back from your break,” a familiar voice vibrates in your ears and makes your toes curl inward.

thankfully, they’re hidden underneath your blanket.

“it was a mistake to come back,” the amber ring hisses for the briefest moment when you drop the bud into the half-filled glass of water even though the ashtray’s a little stretch away from the glass, “though at this rate, i should start looking for an apartment to rent.”

“you can always come and live with me,” the bed dips where the monster takes his seat, the hand on your knee is as cold as ever.

“tae,” you whimper, feeling the heat creep up your neck and spreading over your face as the aforementioned man - no, taehyung is no man, he’s a monster - starts kissing down your inner thigh and pulling your leg over his shoulder.

“i’ll make you forget everything,” garnet eyes staring into you like a sure promise, all you have to do is-

“c-can you eat me out?” you look away, shame and embarrassment filling your chest.

the monster smiles yet you’ve never seen emptier eyes, “with pleasure.”

not long after you moved out for good, the divorce finally took place. the long winded battle ends with your mother getting the matrimonial apartment but your dad’s got a few other he can live in.

oh, and he gifted you one too just before he signed the papers along with a trust fund that could support you and your future family.

not that you’d ever be able to have one.

a normal one, that is.

“aren’t you smoking too much?” jeongguk’s finger trails down your spine, “have you been eating healthy?”

puckering your mouth, you breathe out the ring shaped smoke into the air, watching it gradually fade away.

“that’s too much question for someone who couldn’t care less about what i’m doing with my life,” you let out a dry laugh.

friends since childhood and fuck buddies since first year of college. taehyung came and go like the wind, so you needed another person to make you forget. jeongguk stepped into boxes-filled house and right into your unmade bed.

silence hangs over you like foreboding clouds.

maybe you shouldn’t have said anything.

nothing good came out of biting your tongue so you say whatever you want, did whatever-

“oh, you have a guest,” a familiar soothe of baritone rings in your ears as the chilling air licks your naked skin.

“tae, i didn’t know you were gonna drop by,” you say, even after all these years, your heart still skips a beat at the sight of those glowing red eyes.

the bed shifts as jeongguk slips out from under the covers, not quite caring that his pride and glory is out in display. well, guess he’s just that confident. muscular back and thick thighs, you would’ve made an onlyfans if you had a body like a greek god too.

the greek god didn’t even bother to button up his shirt when he turns to you, abs and all, and places a kiss on the top of your head, “i’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

you blink, watching him with befuddled thoughts as he winks before he walks out of the door.

taehyung’s sigh as the bed dips is what snaps you out of your trance, “so you got a new play thing.”

“take it off,” this time, you have an ashtray you keep underneath your bed and pick up whenever you smoke. so you put out the bud and slide the ashtray back to that spot just below where your pillow would be.

“such an impatient hummingbird,” he chuckles but his hands glides over the buttons of his shirt anyway, “how long have you been together?”

“we’re not together,” you take a sip of the water from the bottle you keep on your nightstand and wipe the stray droplet that trails down your chin with the back of your hand, “why does it matter anyway? you’re here for a fuck, aren’t you? then shut up,” his muscles flex under your touch as you yank him down in his mid-undressed state, the first few buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing a strong, tight chest, “and fuck me.”

his eyes glow like a diamond underneath chandeliers, brighter than the times you’ve gazed into them. fiercer than the fleeting moments where he’d look at you and only you.

instead of devouring you right then and there, his hand, calloused yet gentle, pushes your hair to the back of your ear. his thumb lingering on your bottom lip, “you... did you think i only came here to do that?”

it’s the way he says it - as if he’s thought of you as more than a human toy - that’s what brings out the sneer from your face, “what? are you playing the good guy now? i guess you should change it up every once in awhile, shouldn’t you? it gets boring being the same monster for centuries.”

for the briefest moment, he looks like he’s about to snap your neck in half - it wouldn’t be that hard, especially with his large hand. he could wrap it around your delicate throat and-

“humans really are weak creatures,” he sighs, arms bringing you down to his chest, hugging you to his body unusually warm body - or is it your body that’s too hot that his ice cold built feels touchable?

you want to push him away, scream that it’s because of him that you’re like this, that you had a whole life ahead of you if you didn’t love him like you do. but there’s something - a lump stuck in your throat, and for some reason, your face is wet with tears you can’t control.

funny how taehyung stays longer than he would with just a little tears. and to think you gave him all of you just to be held for a night by a monster and wake up to an empty bed the next day.

well, you did wake up to an empty bed that morning too but there’s a beep of the door and the sound of it clicking open and close a moment later before taehyung walked in with bags of takeouts that was too much for a human and vampire to finish.

said he didn’t know what you like so he went with a variety of choices from the times he remembered you mentioning the foods you’d enjoyed.

you only ate a small portion before excusing yourself for a smoke even though manners and etiquette had never been in your books when kim taehyung is involved.

“i know for a fact that you’re not ‘fine’,” his eyes bore into yours, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a straight, frustrated line.

so monsters can make that kind of face too.

“mom knew,” the words almost didn’t make it out but the look in his eyes was so very human - well, almost fooled you into believing. you cross your arms over your chest, running your palms up and down your arm as if to heat yourself up, “she knew the reason her lover suddenly left her was because of me - every time she looks at me, it’s like she’s seeing something insightful. after the divorce, she told me she didn’t want to see me anymore - that i wasn’t her daughter moving forward.”

“i didn’t think miyeon was that kind of person...” taehyung laughs, but the laugh sounds as dry as the ones you’ve been making, “i knew she was a wicked woman for having a lover-”

“but you still slept with her,” you interject, the room is so awfully cold, “you slept with a wife and a mother and discarded her for her daughter - so don’t you dare judge her, kim taehyung.”

you say yet you have no right to get mad at him. kim taehyung is a monster and he doesn’t pretend to be something else. but you?

oh, you knew he just got done fucking your mother when he slipped into your room and placed his hands where he shouldn’t. yet you still let him in, gave him a part of your heart even though he only wanted your body and blood.

and just as you’re about to give the last of piece of your beating heart, kim taehyung takes a step forward, reaches out his hand and gathers you in his arms.

you’re left gripping that last part of your heart to your chest as he cradles you like a baby. like a cub that barely knows how to hunt.

you end up going up to the rooftop. the fresh air helps you think clearer but in your haste to get away from the monster you’re homing, you’ve forgotten to grab the reason you stormed out here. so you’re left with nothing but a layer of shirt and a gust of wind blowing past until the sun sets.

“hey you,” jeongguk calls - you know it’s him because no one has the nerve to talk to you like that on campus, but you don’t stop. you keep walking, “you little- you’re planning to skip again, aren’t you?”

something wraps around your wrist and twirls your around to face a red as tomato jeongguk.

“chill, professor min doesn’t even care if people attend his classes or not,” you place the hand he’s not holding on your hip.

after you spent half a day on the rooftop, you came back to an empty apartment. it’s almost kim taehyung was never there. yet the were traces of washed containers drying on the dish rack from the takeouts, the bed that is usually unmade even sports a new set of sheets, your astray is cleaned and your laundry is gone (it returned in a form of a call from a drycleaning place).

“it’s not about him not caring,” he counters, forehead creasing, “it’s about you - you... i haven’t seen you since last week and the first thing you do after the first class of the day is skip the next?”

“yeah, okay, this twisted sense of righteousness is not for me,” you finally yank your hand out of his grasp, “you do you but don’t rope me into it - even if it’s good for me. sometimes people don’t wanna be saved, jeongguk.”

you thought he’d look at you with disappointment like your father does. the man would put up a poor excuse of a smile and pat your head but as soon as he turns away, he’d look like he was in his own world. like he didn’t just talk to his daughter not even a second ago.

“well,” jeongguk sighs, “if you’re gonna skip, at least take me with you.”

“what?” you blink, surprised.

“hold up, let me get my bag,” he announces, running back to where you both came from.

you debate on leaving him after a minute but he comes running from around the corner and looking relieved that you’re still there.

you went to the karaoke, had a few drinks, went for dinner and drank some more. for the first time in a long time, the hollowed part in your chest where your heart used to be until you gave it to a monster that didn’t deserve it - feels alive again.

“you know, i forgot what it’s like to hang out with friends,” you’re slurring but jeongguk must have understood.

“i can introduce you to some friends,” he offers.

“not those kinds of fake friends that approach you for money,” you grumble, groaning at the remembrance of the faces that smile at you and talks shit behind your back when they thought you were out of earshot.

“there’s those kinds of people too, huh?” jeongguk laughs as if he missed ‘those kinds of people’ now that he barely had time to get ripped off from them.

“well, i don’t want your money. i got my own.” he confesses a moment later with the cutest grin - as if the monstority of the world hadn’t touched him one bit.

“i know, that’s why i kept you around,” you take another sip of the alcohol, feeling it flow down your throat with more ease than the first time.

“that’s good enough,” he murmurs, glazed eyes staring at the tinted emerald bottle for a little too long before his meets your gaze, lips stuck in a boyish grin.

the rest, you can barely remember.

but all you know is you share a kiss - it’s sweet but sloppy but you feel your cheeks warming all the way home. you didn’t invite jeongguk back - you couldn’t bring yourself to wrap him around your little fingers like you’ve been doing. and he must have known of your wishes if he looked at you with such conflicted gaze.

the apartment is loomed with shadows from every angle, save for the walled window across the room where the cityscape twinkles, as if welcoming you back. you sigh, at least you’ve made a home out of this place.

“where have you been?” a cold voice rings in your ears.

the phone you’ve been holding crashes against the ground with a thud.

“no,” it laughs as dry as the hollowness in your chest, “i knew where you were - i could’ve found you if i looked...”

“back for some human pussy?” you ask monotonously, “it’s funny, you know, we can barely go for more than 3 rounds and our bones break easily so you have to hold back all the time. and yet weaklings like us must’ve given you a different sort of pleasure, huh?”

silence lapses in between you.

the glowing garnet eyes shouldn’t bother you as much yet you feel your body heating up as you undress in front of him yet he doesn’t come when you leave the bathroom door ajar.

your heart races at the thought of seeing an empty room when you step out of the door in your bathrobe and freshly washed body. and your heart skips a beat when those garnet eyes meet yours in your not so subtle attempt to find out whether he’s still there, on the one-person couch in the corner of the room.

to think you’ve got less than a scrape of heart left to give.

you huff, not quite sure why you’re suddenly mad. but you pull on your night gown and march to your bed. if he’s going to keep being a creature that lurks within the shadows and refuse to touch you- then you won’t beg for him to.

for the longest time, you keep your eyes close and count to a digit that you can’t remember where you stopped. but sleep doesn’t come easy. you want to turn to your other side but that’ll blow your cover - not that taehyung couldn’t figure out from the sound of your erratic heartbeat.

there’s no telling how long it goes on, with you not managing to grasp a single strand of peace and kim taehyung - you sense him - staying there, just looking at you.

but liberation comes to you with a dip of the bed and the cold breath against your neck.

“i couldn’t do it after all...” he sighs, “i tried to tell myself that i’ll only have you once in awhile when it gets really bad for me but i keep wanting more.”

the kiss on the nape of your neck tickles.

“if you try to run away, i’ll chain your ankles,” he whispers sweet words to your ears, “if you push me away, i’ll strap you to the bedpost.”

there’s no going back now - your heart’s beating too face in your chest. and after the gasp that you just let out when you feel your body twist to lay on your back, hands pinned over your head as your eyelids flutter open to gaze into garnet diamonds - there’s no sleeping your way and pretending you didn’t hear anything to get out of this.

“why- why now? you knew how i felt about you but you left anyway - you left over and over again even if you knew i wanted you to stay,” you glare.

“humans are fickle creatures,” he rests his forehead on yours, “i wanted you to forget about me but my powers don’t work with you... i can’t erase your memories,” he laughs that dry, hopeless laugh, “a part of me wanted you to remember me even when you’re married and surrounded by children of your own. another part of me didn’t want you to run after a monster like me.”

“you think that’s just gonna make up for everything? for the shit you put me through? for ruining my relationship with my parents? for making me unable to have a normal human relationship with anyone?” you grit your teeth, “think again, kim taehyung. i’ll never forgive you. not for as long as i’m alive.”

“that’s fine,” he releases your hand only to pin both of them down together in one grip, his free hand tracing down the side of your face until his thumb finds home on your lips, “i’ll prepare the softest mattress, i’ll enchant the chains so they won’t gnaw at your delicate skin, i’ll be with you every day of your life.”

his lips are cold but your body is warm enough. taehyung bites that skin he calls delicate and licks the blood dry. your nipples are sore from how much he’s ravaging you. the moans that slip out of your mouth are unrestrained. feral, even. as if you’re the beast and he’s the monster.

“tae... taehyung... taehyung...” you murmur his name like you know no other word.

then, when you’re spent and heaving for air, he gathers you in his arms and whispers how good you were.

how very docile you are.

“taehyung,” you murmur, too tired to even open your eyes but the hum he lets out is the softest you’ve heard, “i’ll never let you have my heart.”

for a moment, you think you hear him hold his breath. as if he didn’t expect you to push him even when you’re snuggling up to him as you say so.

you want to laugh, maybe you let out a smile before you fell into deep slumber.

“___! please, help me out! i’ll buy you lunch!” soyeon begs, if you look closer, you might even see a hint of tear in her eyes, “tutor me so i’ll be able to graduate on time, please.”

“i don’t know... i mean, i still remember that time when you stole my chips when i wasn’t looking...” you narrow your eyes at the girl.

you’re in your final year, on the verge of graduating and actually collectively fearing about repeating a semester.

“if it’s chips you want, i’ll buy the whole aisle for you!” she proclaims.

you grin, “deal.”

“i have a bad feeling about this,” mina murmurs, deadpanned.

your phone vibrates with a text from a ‘taetae’, “oh shit, i’m late.”

“hey, ___, will you share some with me?” jongyeon waves to get your attention.

you look back, barely registering what she said, “hm? yeah, sure!”

and because of that, you run straight into a stone hard chest. but before you can feel the impact of the ground, a hand wraps around your arm and pulls you right into the body you just bulldozed.

“you’re late,” garnet eyes bore into you like it’s going to eat you alive.

“i know, you didn’t have to turn up on campus,” you take a step back, “people will notice.”

“that’s not my concern,” taehyung’s brows knit together in frustration and you know why.

something about you not wanting people to know about the monster living with you and showing up to pick you up from class - irks him. no, it eats away at him like a parasite. an ugly little green thing.

after awhile, he lets go of the idea of chains and lets you walk out of that door everyday for classes, holding onto that strand of hope that you’ll walk back in every evening and touch him, give him the littlest amount of attention he doesn’t even deserve.

and when you’re late, he slips out of the window and shows up on campus. those strange looks people give you and him will never cease. but you’ve got more to life than worry about measly little rumors of you an a questionable but exceptionally attractive looking man that shows up to pick you up from time to time.

“i want a boyfriend too,” jongyeon sighs before he calls after taehyung, “hey mr. boyfriend, do you have any cute friends?”

the glare he gives her should be enough to scare a human to her death bed but jongyeon doesn’t seem to notice.

in a way, you’ve gathered quite a bunch that are more like you than you can imagine.

you wave at your friends - your real friends, shaking your head at the way jongyeon’s shooting suggestive looks before you’re completely out of sight for taehyung to wrap his arms around you and take you flying in mid air.

shadows still loom in the apartment. taehyung spends most of his days here - he doesn’t like the light so he never switches them on.

before your feet even lands on the wooden flooring, your pants are already pushed down to the ground. his hand is on your breast, kneading and grasping for your flesh as if he can’t believe you’d here. in his arms.

your heart still races but you made sure taehyung understood that it’s a biological reaction for the excitement that rushes through your body.

and he’s fine with that as he breaks your skin and licks the blood that pours out of the incision.

you want to laugh as you feel his erection twitch in your hand. he doesn’t even bother to hide how desperate he is for you. for your touch. for your attention.

he’s wrapped around your fingers.

and to think you never had a sliver of chance with kim taehyung.

note. this was a wild ride, wasn’t it?? welp, bet the person who requested this did not expect that lmaoooo sorry if this isn’t your cup of tea huehuehue

#taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #yandere taehyung #bts fic #taenyung fic #bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #yandere bts #bts fanfic #bts x you #taehyung x you #drabble game 1 #excerpt from a fic i'll never write

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Text

Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 11

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - references to verbal abuse and a neglectful mother.

Author’s note: After an accidental one month hiatus, I’m back! I’m nervous about posting this because I haven’t updated December Magic since I saw WW84. As you may have noticed, I have rebranded this fic and the name is now called ‘Sugar and Spice’! There is a slight time jump in this chapter, and it’s just a short one as I ween back into it, but I realised I was struggling so much continuing this fic after seeing WW84 because it just didn’t feel like the Max Lord we ended up with was anything like the Max Lord in this fic. This chapter is my attempt to make amends and draw a link between Sugar and Spice and WW84.

While I’m here I want to give a shout out to my new on-going Max Lord series ‘I Believe In Love’, which you can read here. I Believe In Love is like my baby and I am so so proud of it thus far. Anyways, enjoy chapter 11 of December Magic!

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS - CHAPTER ELEVEN - NEXT

He hadn’t come home for Christmas. He hadn’t come home for two months. It was fine at first. He called you as soon as he reached London, just like he promised. He expressed to you how busy he was with work commitments and how difficult it was for him to cope with the timezones. The distance between the UK and USA was devastating. Your hour long phone calls gradually became more spread out and only lasted a few minutes, and honestly? It broke your heart. There you were; living in Lord Manor, and Maxwell had kept his word: “you want for nothing”. You had everything. His weighty black AMEX card, a house staff such as a butler and a chef and your own personal driver to take you wherever you wished to go. Any material possessions you wished for… they were yours. You weren’t even working for the privilege or the money. Max was far away and yet, he made sure you still had a home and a life, and he made sure that you were safe.

But there was still an extreme void in your heart. You were missing Maxwell. You’d try calling him but there was always a dead line. Not even Raquel would answer. You felt like you were drifting apart and your whole body ached with dread as you wondered if Max had forgotten about you. You’d kept in contact with Maxwell’s three assistants at Black Gold and they had no information on the work commitments that Max was supposedly seeing too. The romance you had shared during December may have been a whirlwind, but you knew him better than any other person on the planet and you felt like he was deliberately avoiding you.

There was something not right.

***

“Kitty!” Maxwell cried, his cheeks burning red and his eyes flicking with bewilderment as the child was thrust into his arms. A ghost from his past. Kitty was an ex lover of Maxwell’s, and honestly one of many. He hadn’t thought about her in years.

“I’ve brought him up for the past six years, he’s your problem now!” Kitty spat, an evil smirk crossing her lips. “I see you on the television with all your fame and fortune, if you don’t want him then the least you can do is pay a nanny to watch him. I have nothing Max. A shitty little apartment in the east of London. I’m working for a modelling internship but it’s hard to find luck when I’ve got a six year old kid dragging my heels behind.”

“Dragging your heels?” Maxwell repeated, furiosity burning his lungs. “He’s your son for Christ sake! How can you say that? Right in front of him!”

Maxwell turned back to the child who was standing as still as ever in the centre of the hotel room, nervously looking at his feet. Everytime Kitty raised her voice, the boy winced, and it crushed Max. This situation was all too familiar to him.

“He’s your son too!” Kitty glared, her face just as cold as her heart. “I want nothing to do with him. Goodbye.” Kitty said, her voice venomous, before leaving the hotel room and slamming the door behind her.

Maxwell’s knees felt weak and wobbly and he stumbled to his bed, sinking down with an exasperated sigh. Max’s hands cradled his own face and he blinked away unshed tears before sitting back up and looking at the six year old boy. The boy was silent, and his dark eyes matched the sadness of his father’s. How could this have happened?

Maxwell Lord had a son.

Max didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say? He remembered doing work in London back in 1977; it was the start of his big break, and his bachelor persona hadn’t changed much since then. When Kitty found out Maxwell was back in London, she used it as her one final chance to track him down. Turns out, a big name CEO such as Max Lord was hard to get a hold of, especially when he lived on the other side of the world. Kitty never had pure intentions. Of course the pregnancy was unplanned and the sad reality was, Alistair was unwanted by his mother. Kitty was an aspiring model, fueled by ambition and goal, much like Maxwell. She didn’t have a single maternal instinct in her. Only there was a significant difference between Alistair’s parents. Whilst Kitty cared so little about her son, Maxwell knew that from this day forward, Alistair would be his top priority. He would never let his job intervene with his son. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes his own parents did.

Maxwell never thought about children, or considered bringing any into the world. He told himself he’d never want to be a father. He had such a terrible upbringing himself and his mother was wicked, he’d be too afraid. He’d never want to hurt or disappoint a potential child of his the way his own parents had hurt and disappointed him. But when he looked into his son’s eyes he felt nothing but determination. He’d been an absent father and that was not okay. Max just wished he’d known about his son before now. But it’s not like he could turn back time. Max knew he had to make amends and he knew he had to do it now.

Maxwell opened his arms and held Alistair’s hands, bringing him close and holding him tight against his chest. “My son,” he whispered, trying to refrain from crying. “I love you so much. I know you don’t know me, but you will, and I will spend the rest of my life making you proud. You are my everything.”

“You saved me daddy,” Alistair whimpered, tears spilling and dampening his father’s pinstripe shirt. “Thank you.”

***

You waited every day for Maxwell to return, but you never expected him. You were laying on the living room sofa, a blanket wrapped around you, half asleep as the muse from the television drowned out your thoughts. When you heard the lock on the front door click open, you thought you were dreaming. There was no way. No way. Footsteps. Hell, there was more chance of an intruder than it was Max. You rubbed your eyes and cautiously rose to your feet.

Your heart sank when he entered the room. It was him. He was home. Tears filled your eyes and you couldn’t hide the excited grin that painted your lips. “Oh my god Max!” you squealed, running up to him. He looked tired, but he was smiling too. You were inclined to run into his arms, but your focus on his face left you without realizing the small sleeping child he was carrying in his arms.

You blinked in confusion, your gaze flicking between Maxwell and the boy. “This is Alistair, my son.” Maxwell informed you, his voice hoarse and low. At the mention of his name Alistair stirred in his sleep and Maxwell immediately, on instinct, shushed him.

“You-what?” You were speechless. You knew something was wrong the second Max had distanced himself. The second the phone calls had stopped and he hadn’t come home. You knew something was wrong when his assistants said his work schedule was clear. But never in a million years did you expect your sugar daddy to come home with a son.

“I didn’t know,” Max whispered in avoidance to wake up Alistair. “It’s a long story but I promise I’ll tell you everything. I’m sorry I didn’t come home for Christmas like I promised. I’m so sorry baby. I’ll make up for it.”

You couldn’t even gather words. You swallowed the hard lump in your throat and contemplated everything. You sighed. You believed Max - how could you not? Of course, you were very interested in learning all about his secret son but you supposed that didn’t matter too much right now. All that mattered is that Max was home, and safe. You smiled and rested your hand on Alistair’s forehead, brushing his straight black hair out of his face. Alistair smiled sleepily under your touch. Max’s cheeks grew warm with admiration as you comforted his son. It meant a lot to him that you took a liking to Alistair and that you accepted the fact Alistair was in his life now, and nothing would change that.

After all, Max Lord was still hopelessly devoted and in love with you.

“Come on,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to cup Maxwell’s face. You brushed your thumb over the height of his cheekbone and Max found himself subconsciously leaning into your touch. “Let’s take him to bed and go to bed ourselves. We clearly have a lot to catch up on.”

Max nodded his head in affirmation and you followed him upstairs. He took Alistair to a guest bedroom and gently tucked him under the blankets, pressing a caring kiss into his son’s forehead before turning back to you. As you watched his gentle actions, it was like you were witnessing a whole new side to Maxwell. And it was beautiful.

Sugar and Spice taglist: @100layersofdaddyissues @mrschiltoncat @honeymandos @thisisthe-wayson @this-cat-is-dea @blonde2bomshell @maiyaaaa0130 @autumnleaves1991-blog @justanotherblonde23 @softly-sad @laaadygisbooornex3 @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @drinkingwhileblogging @kesskirata @honestlystop

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#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #max lord #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #ww84 #max lord series #maxwell lord series

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ptersparkers · 4 years

Text

pope’s secret

summary: pope’s got a secret.

warnings: typos, probably.

notes: yall need to hype up pope more like you do with the other white boys.

When Pope tells you to hold his hand while you’re trying to balance on a shallow piece of concrete, you don’t think much of it. You’re too busy trying not to fall, deciding your ego wasn’t as important as keeping your shins nice and clean. The bottom of your Converse is hitting the hot concrete and you can feel the heat from underneath the soles, but you don’t care. It’s a nice, sunny day out and you would be damned if you were inside the Chateau with minimal air conditioning, if anything.

His hands are surprisingly soft. This is the last thing you think about before giving up on trying to balance yourself. Pope laughs at your attempt and holds onto your hand when you step off of the makeshift balance beam and he holds on to you until you pull your hand away. You miss the delighted grin on his face when you tell him you’re happy he came outside with you despite the sweltering North Carolinian heat.

In all honesty, the Pogues never cared much about keeping secrets and it felt like the lot knew more about each other than they did about themselves. You knew everything there was to know about the rest of the group and they could say the same for you if someone were to have asked. The Pogues prided themselves in their ability to never keep secrets to avoid a major rift in the friend group because that was the last thing they wanted.

But Pope has a secret. He keeps it in a drawer hidden behind thoughts that consume him daily and he tries not to think about it unless he’s alone, if at all. Pope’s always trying to brave a smile and find new hiding places in his mind when he can feel this secret crawl to the tip of his tongue, ready for the secret to be spilled. His secret is that he likes you more than a friend.

When you look extra beautiful on a particular day or you say something profound that makes his eyes widen with interest, he has to breath to keep himself in check. Pope tries to clear his throat and make it look like he was coughing when he wants to think of anything but your lips on his. His mind races and his gaze focuses on anything that isn’t in your vicinity because he doesn’t want to give himself away.

Pope think he likes you because you took the time to understand him. Out of everyone in the group, he always felt closest to you and he knew it was a matter of time before his feelings graduated from platonic to romantic.

He can remember the instance when he first felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest if he wasn’t able to kiss you. You were tired and JJ had convinced you to smoke his joint a few times after you expressed interest in trying it for the first time. None of the Pogues could tell if it was because you had an eight hour shift at The Wreck, the joint, or both, but you were so out of it to the point where JJ had to physically hold you up to keep you from falling while your eyes were drooping.

Pope looked at you with adoration and loved the way your cheeks became red as the heat of the air seemed to increase. He watched as your cheek pressed against JJ’s shoulder, your face scrunching into an adorable pout when you realized he wasn’t going to carry you to the spare bedroom. Pope volunteered and JJ stood still until he was able to successfully carry you into the bedroom, which both he and JJ were happy to let you occupy.

Your lips were plump and Pope fantasized about stealing a kiss, but only when he knew you felt the same. In that moment, he tucked you under the comforter and promised to be there in the morning when you woke up.

He sat with his thoughts that night on the couch as Kiara went back to her house while John B. and JJ shared his room; he liked the way you looked at him if the others spoke over him. He liked to think you were encouraging him to continue talking and his heart always felt like it was beating faster than it should’ve been. He notices that your mind doesn’t wander when he talks about his academic studies and you never make jokes about him being the “mathlete” stereotype. You sit with interest and your eyes don’t gloss over any detail. When you’re around, he feels confident enough to tell the full story, not just a summary.

But that night, he decided he would never disclose his feelings for you to anyone in fear of ruining the friendship all of them had dedicated time into building.

You and JJ share the same personality and Pope think she doesn’t stand a chance against the blond that girls can’t seem to get enough of. He never noticed the amount of time you two spent together but started to put together just how often you two hung out if you weren’t with the Pogues and how often you two would sit by each other when you were. Pope tried not to be jealous and tried to remind himself that you hung out with John B. alone as well, but he couldn’t shake the lingering feeling off of his shoulders that seemed adamant to make him feel anxious about a potential rejection if he were ever to tell you about his feelings for you.

The man sat with his mouth shut one day when he realized you and JJ were late to the Chateau. Kiara tried to console him, upon learning his feelings, but even she had to admit you were spending more time with JJ than usual. JJ was at your place if he wasn’t in the Chateau or you’d be int he van with him, off to the beach to catch a wave at sunrise.

Pope’s heart began to falter when he realized he might lose you, and the idea of the two of you. to JJ. His daydream about being in a healthy relationship with you was slipping from his grasp and he didn’t know if he wanted a last first kiss or not. He could feel his heart clench when you two arrived and when you had barely looked at Pope before dashing to the spare bedroom with JJ. Neither of you had said more than a meek “hello” with a wave before disappearing around the corner and Kiara gave pope her most hopeful eyes. But there was no hope.

Until Pope decided to approach the guest bedroom.

“You’re not a loser,” JJ reassured. Pope couldn’t see anything and his back was flat against the wall beside the threshold. “You’re just someone who doesn’t know how to confront their feelings.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel any better?” you asked. Pope could hear the sarcasm drip from your tone and grinned to himself.

“Shut up,” JJ said, which made Pope think he rolled your eyes. There was always an ounce of sarcastic humor between the two of you. “You’re the person he trusts the most. I know I’m shit at this ‘love’ stuff but I know Pope and I know you. I can’t imagine two better people dating.”

Pope’s heart was caught in his chest and his eyes widened at JJ’s remark. He heard you sigh and hadn’t dared to let out a breath as he waited for your response.

“What do I say? How do I tell him that I’ve been in love with him since we were twelve and that I’d do anything to make sure he gets the future he deserves? I can’t even get the courage to hold his hand under the table, for Christ’s sake.”

JJ saw Pope’s figure emerge from the doorway and Pope didn’t miss the grin that donned on JJ’s lips. The blond put his hands you on shoulders and turned you around, your eyes widening at the realization that Pope heard your confession.

Wordlessly, JJ stepped around the two of you and left you to your wits and merits. Your eyes locked with Pope and you knew it would be useless to deny everything you had just said. The ball was in his court now and he knew it.

Pope didn’t need to say anything. The feeling of his lips on yours and his hands around your waist told you everything you needed to know about how he felt about you.

***

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#pope heyward x reader #pope heyward fluff #pope heyward #obx x reader #obx #outer banks #outer banks x reader #jj maybank x reader #(like kinda)#my writing #pope's secret

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chrispevanss · 3 years

Text

Under Your Cover

A/N: This is my (incredibly) late entry to @allaboardthereadingrailroad Marvel Diversity Challenge. My prompt was ‘Swimming Pool Summer’ by Capital Cities. If you enjoy, drop a comment, leave a reblog, send me a message, let me know!

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected Sex, 18+ only!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader

Word Count: 2293

“Bucky,” The name slipped through your lips as a pitiful whimper. Your nails scraped across his scalp, down the smooth expanse of his back. Bucky’s hands balled the sheets next to your head, his hips slapped against yours, desperate to reach that ethereal high.

“Yeah princess, just like that.” Bucky’s hoarse grunts pierced your ears, drawing you closer to your end. One hand absently trailed down your body, a single fingertip skated across your clit, sending waves of pleasure screaming through your body.

“I’m, oh god, yes!” Your mouth hung open in a silent O as your orgasm took over. It stole the words from your lips, replacing them with guttural moans, and scrapes of your nails down your partner’s back. Bucky followed a handful of thrusts later, his own orgasm turning him into a feral animalistic man. Large hands gripped your hips, sure to leave bruises behind, a reminder of who you belonged to.

When your head finally surfaced again, you were pulled into the soft expanse of Bucky’s arms. His lips peppered kisses along your head, his hand, mindlessly twirled across the naked expanse of your back. His skin was warm, and you could smell the intoxicating cocktail of his cologne and sweat where your head lay in his neck.

The soft thump thump of the bass from the party below brought you fully back to reality. Back to the reality that this was just a casual thing, that come tomorrow you would go back to work, and Bucky would go back to saving the world.

“We know Stark throws great parties, but I think the best party is the one we make in the bedroom,” Bucky chuckled into your hair. A smile found its way across your lips, a giggle broke the silence between the two of you.

You lay in bliss for a few more stolen moments. But that bubble of bliss was soon popped by a sharp, persistent knock on the bedroom door. With a groan, Bucky climbed out of bed, sliding his gray boxer briefs over his pert ass. The knock came again, harder and more persistent.

“Gimme a second!” His tone reached toward exasperation. He fished his pants out of the pile of clothes and flung the door open, pants half zipped. And came almost nose to nose with a tall, well built blonde on the other side.

“Bucky!” He drunkenly slurred. Bucky finished zipping his pants and sighed, shoving his hands in the front pockets.

“Steve, I’m a little busy here. Why don’t you go downstairs, have some water and I’ll come find you when I’m done okay?” Bucky said protectively. He slid the plastic cup from Steve’s palm, much to the latter’s disdain.

“Fine,” Steve pouted. Bucky closed the door, the click of the latch the sweetest sound you had heard that night.

“Now where were we?” Bucky started to shuck off his pants and underwear again. He knelt at the end of the bed, staring at you with unbridled lust in his eyes. He crawled toward you, the dim light glinted off the thin layer of sweat on his body, and you had to swallow down a desperate moan.

After Bucky made you come undone twice more, you lay next to him, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his body.

“I should probably go check on Steve,” He laughed, breaking the silence.

You reluctantly crawled out of the large bed, grabbing your own clothes from the pile, leaving your panties for Bucky as a souvenir.

“See you in a couple weeks?” You laughed softly, kissing Bucky’s chest.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, girl.”

—

His lips tasted like the cream soda he had been nursing all night, mixed with a soft hint of mint toothpaste. Intoxicating, really. Your hands curled around his shoulders as you pulled him impossibly closer, blurring the lines of your bodies.

“What do you say…” Bucky started.

“Yes.” You spoke up, answering the question that sat unspoken. His fingers found yours in the dark, you trailed behind him, away from the party, from the people, to a bedroom at the end of the hall. It was decorated in shades of blue, accented with beach themed decorations. A choice that screamed suburban guest room.

Bucky closed the door with a soft click and turned the lock into place. A shiver crawled up your spine as he wound his arms around your waist from behind, his face descended to your neck. You moaned softly, hands carding through his hair.

“Strip.” The comment was curt. Cutting through your haze of lust. You bit your lip, slowly unbuttoning your jeans. The material slid to the floor with your panties. The cool air stung as it hit your sensitive clit.

Bucky cooed praises in your ear. Your hands curled around the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head.

“Now the bra.” He instructed calmly. Your fingers unhooked the cotton garment, discarding it to the floor with the rest of your clothes. Your nipples pebbled in the cool air of the room, a shiver crawled up your spine as Bucky’s fingers traced along your hips.

“Now what?” You whispered huskily.

“Get on the bed and spread those pretty legs for me,” Bucky’s lips ghosted across your neck, pulling soft moans from your chest.

You leaned forward on the bed on all fours, making sure you wiggled your ass as you climbed toward the headboard. Bucky groaned in appreciation and you bit your lip when you heard the familiar sound of his belt loosening and the zipper of his own jeans descending.

“Like this?” You teased turning around, grabbing the backs of your thighs, feet flat on the mattress, your most intimate area exposed to your lover.

“Touch it.” Bucky breathed, his hand wrapped around his erection, slowly stroking. You dipped your fingers in your mouth before skating them down your body, the tips brushed against your sensitive clit.

Your fingers circled your clit, slowly, soft whimpers echoing off the walls. Your middle finger dipped inside your soaked folds. Using your slick as lube, your fingers began to circle your clit faster, harder. Your back arched off the bed as you plummeted towards your own end. Bucky’s breathing was labored, grunts and moans ripped from his chest.

“You close?” Bucky was at the end of the bed now, one knee on the bed, cock still firmly in hand.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes!” You cried out, tears had begun to form in your eyes, your fingers swiping over your clit even harder, faster. You could feel the coil within you tightening, you were almost there. Your head was thrown back, eyes slammed shut, right on the cusp.

Smack.

Your eyes shot open, bewildered. You were ready to chastise whoever decided to interrupt your most intimate of moments. Bucky stood over you now. Completely naked, a dark smile crossed his face, your own features softened.

“Why?” Your voice shook.

“Because, the only way you’re going to get to cum tonight is gonna be on this fucking cock, understand?” Bucky’s voice was but a low growl as he caged you in with his arms. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You moaned, pulling him closer.

“Please?” You looked up at him doe-eyed. Your cunt was throbbing, and you were sure he could feel it without even touching you.

“What do you want?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow in your direction. Your hips bucked towards his, but before they could meet, before you could get the friction you desired, his hands shot out, pinning you to the bed.

“Buckyyyyyyy…” You whimpered, your finger traced down his chest, you put up your best demure front.

“Tell me. Use your words, and tell me. Or I’ll get dressed and leave right now.” Bucky dragged the tip of his cock along your folds. You preened into his touch, desperate mewls leaving your lips.

“Come on,” He cooed. “Tell Bucky what you want.”

“Your cock! Just fuck me stupid already!” You huffed. A wicked smile crossed Bucky’s face as he dipped the head of his cock into your waiting heat.

“Oh God,” Your eyes rolled back, hands gripped at his biceps. Nails dug into his flesh.

“That’s just the tip baby girl. You must be really desperate tonight,” He mused. His hips slowly bucked forward, driving his cock into you inch by agonizing inch.

When he finally bottomed out, you couldn’t hold back the loud moan that tumbled off your lips. Bucky grunted, almost feral, as he pulled out and pushed his cock back in.

“Every single time baby, so fuckin tight,” His teeth grit in pleasure, his hands white knuckled the sheets.

“I-I won’t last long, Bucky” You whimpered, your hand reaching between your bodies to rub your swollen clit.

“You’re gonna last until I tell you to cum, you hear me?” Bucky’s teeth caught your earlobe, his fingers pushed yours out of the way so his thick digits could circle your little nub.

His thrusts picked up, all sense of romanticism out the window. This was raw, animalistic, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely love it. His free hand gripped both of your hands and pinned them above your head, the sound of skin slapping against skin barely audible above your shared moans and cries of pleasure.

“You ready? You cum when I tell you or not at all okay? 3...2...1...cum” Bucky growled in your ear. Your orgasm crashed over you, sending you off the edge into that ethereal high. Your back arched off the bed, your heels dug into his ass, your clit pressed against his sweat warmed skin.

Bucky managed a few more thrusts before his cock began to swell within you. As you began to descend from your own high, Bucky reached his. Spilling his seed deep inside you, marking you as his. You moaned at the warmth that radiated through your body. His teeth sank into your neck as he rode out his own high. His hips stuttered, he spilled the last of his release into your womb before he pulled out, rolling to the side, chest heaving.

“What the fuck was that?” You smiled, leaning up on your elbow to look down at Bucky. He chuckled and pulled you in for a kiss.

“That was called sex, and that’s what we do everytime there’s a party because we don’t know a damn person out there, and sex is a lot more fun than trying to act like you’re interested in some drunk person’s stories.” Bucky’s hand ran down your sides while he shook with laughter.

You smacked his chest playfully. An ungodly snort escaped your body as you too shook with laughter.

“No! I meant the ‘you cum when I tell you or not at all’. The whole Dom vibe.” You clarified. Bucky looked into your eyes, lust glinted behind his crystal orbs.

“Did you not like it?” He cocked his head to the side. You quickly backpedaled, shaking your head no.

“No! No! I loved it. It’s just so unlike you.”

“Thought I’d try something different and truthfully,” He leaned forward to whisper in your ear, “I’ve never cum harder. And if I’m not mistaken, I think the feeling is mutual.”

Your face grew warm and you cast your eyes down to the navy blue sheets. You nodded tentatively, chewing on your lower lip.

“C’mere.” Bucky opened his arms, and you gratefully obliged, snuggling your body up to his warm, broad frame. You breathed in the oh so familiar cocktail of his cologne and sweat. The nightcap of your trysts as it were.

You lay in silence for a few more stolen moments before you gently pulled away from Bucky.

“You okay?” He propped himself up on his elbow as you shuffled through the pile of clothes, picking up your own garments.

“Yeah. I should probably go check on my friends. Make sure they aren’t downing questionable shots, or making out with questionable people.” You laughed, tugging your panties and jeans up your legs. “I think Tony is having a party next weekend, you gonna be there?” You already knew his answer, or hoped you did.

Bucky’s face fell to the sheets and so did your stomach.

“I uh. I need to talk to you about that. I know this isn’t the best place, I mean, we just hook up at parties but this has been eating at me since the first time we did this, what was it 9-10 months ago?” Bucky’s hand scrubbed the back of his neck, he sat up straight, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Buck, if I’ve said or done something I’m really sorry. You know I never intended to hurt you,” Your voice cracked a little, you approached the bed and extended a hand to the still very naked man.

“No. No. It’s not that. It’s this. Us. This no strings attached hooking up. I can’t do it anymore. I caught feelings and I should have fucking told you a long time ago but I couldn’t. I didn’t wanna fuck up whatever we have because I really do enjoy you. I enjoy being with you, and I want that to extend outside of partying. I want to take you to dinner, and breakfast, I want to make coffee for you—” You leaned forward, cutting Bucky off with a soft kiss. His hand reached up to cup your face, as his opposite hand wrapped around your waist.

“So…..” Bucky chuckled, pulling away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. You smiled and bit your lip.

“Wanna go get coffee in the morning?”

“I’d love that,” Bucky whispered capturing your lips in another toe curling kiss.

Tagging: @tellmealovestory @dontshootmespence

#marveldiversitychallenge #Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #marvel #Marvel Universe #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes smut #Bucky Barnes fic

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magicnights · 3 years

Text

“Then, why is Sir Lucan being referred to as a ‘pimp’?

Hi dear sister.

Anyway.”

#There is no rest for the wicked ones. ✦ Guest muses #Whispers in the woods. ✦ Dash commentary #iterare #xxyumeno

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quinncupine · 3 years

Text

Obscured Chapter Eight: Belly of the Beast

Chapter Word Count: 6,440

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X Female Reader

Previous Chapter: Seven

MASTERLIST

Warnings: Kidnappings, violence, language, blood, near-death experiences, drugs

I hope you enjoy this chapter! Let me know what you think!

...

A steel-toed boot to the chest woke Izuku up. He sucked in a breath and his eyes shot open. His brain felt like mush and every inch of his body ached. Something heavy and cold constrained his arms, hands pulled so far behind him that the tips of his fingers brushed against his shoulder blades and strained his bruised ribs. Layers of heavy metal chains had wrapped around him like a cocoon, which forced him to sit on his knees.

"Oh, looks like Sleeping Beauty finally awakes," an electronic voice mused. "Took your sweet time, didn't ya?"

Izuku tried to blink away the blurriness. He'd felt the effects of a sedative before; they weren't fun. If the chains weren't holding him upright, he would've fallen over. Through the pounding headache and general drowsiness, he managed to look up at his captor.

It was a mask he would recognize anywhere. Kabuki.

"You look dumbfounded." Kabuki crouched in front of him. "Or maybe just dumb."

He looked around, taking in his surroundings. In the dim light, he could make out steel beams in front of him. Two sets that ran parallel to each other, and lined by thick cement barricades. Two sets of rail tracks ran on either side of the beams in a large trench. He was sitting on the raised platform in what looked like some sort of abandoned subway station: complete with faded graffiti, piles of molded trash, and even a decayed staircase that went nowhere. A train whistled around the corner and a few moments later, rushed through, not bothering to slow down.

He blinked hard and forced his brain to start the gears. His memory was a little fuzzy; drugs tend to have that effect. How did he end up here? What was he doing last? He had left the hospital with you, that much he remembered. Then...then the car had been attacked. The bridge blew and you fell. You fell. The pieces slowly came together until they all clicked. His head shot up, eyes roaming around the rusted station in a panic.

"Looking for someone?" Kabuki cocked his head.

Izuku forced his attention back to him. "Where is she?"

"Ah, don't you worry about that," he shrugged. "It's just you and me right now. I wanted some one-on-one time with you."

Izuku flexed his fingers, another mini panic jolted through him when he didn't feel his quirk. "Why?"

"Haven't figured it out yet?" He stood up. "What a shame. And here I thought you were supposed to be the clever one. Hmm, maybe I gave you too much credit." He crossed his arms. "You don't even know who I am."

He tested the binds. With his strength gone and his head still a little fuzzy, it would be a lot more difficult to break free. He needed a plan, and fast.

"I know exactly who you are," he said.

"Oh really?" Kabuki laughed. "Do enlighten me then."

"You were the one who killed the Hashira. You also killed an officer, Officer Manaka. The two don't connect unless you trace back to three years ago." He explained as he wracked his brain for an escape route. "I looked into his records. He'd been receiving large sums of money for years from false accounts. The Hashira had him on their payroll. He would look the other way whenever they were involved and even helped cover up their mistakes. He was a dirty cop." He worked on getting his fingers free while he talked. "You were the first to figure it out."

"What's with the long story?" He put his hands on his hips. "You know, I've always hated how you ramble, it's annoying."

"The Hashira killed your family didn't they?." He said and Kabuki tensed. "It's why you targeted them. You killed Officer Manaka because he worked for them. It's why you killed any criminal you came across, warranted or not. It's why you became the Metal Hero Cobalt; to prevent what happened to you from happening to others. Isn't that right, Ikari?"

The two stared at each other in silence before Kabuki broke into laughter, which sounded pretty weird coming from an electronic mask. He pulled the long hood of his coat back before slipping the mask off. Blue locks of hair fell free, revealing the face of a young woman.

"Got it all figured out, huh?" She looked down at her mask. "I am glad you remember me. It would've been awkward if you didn't."

"You were a hero, Ikari," Izuku said. "Look at what you're doing, this isn't you."

"Don't pretend to know me." She narrowed her eyes. "Don't you dare forget that I'm not a hero anymore because of you."

"You know why." He said. "But that doesn't mean you have to become this."

"This?" A finger trailed down the center of the mask before she chucked it at him. "You're exactly the reason I had to do this! Everything that happened, everything that will happen, it's your fault Deku."

The mask bounced off his chest and landed at his feet. The empty eyes seemed to bore into him, mocking him.

"Blaming me doesn't make what you did any less wrong." The chains seemed to tighten around him on their own, but he still continued. "Those people didn't deserve to die. You can't play judge, jury, and executioner. You're acting like Stain."

"Stain?" She cocked her head. "You think I'm like Stain? He might've had the right idea, but he didn't know how to execute it properly. He killed any hero that got in his way...well, except for you." She tapped her chin. "You fought him the night he was captured, didn't you? Of course, that's not the official story anyway, but you were the one to take him out."

Izuku didn't say anything so she continued. "The problem with Stain is that he was too focused on the killing and not the actual changing. You should've been rewarded with taking him out, instead, you were threatened into silence and let that lava-brained oaf take all the credit. That's one of the many problems with the hero system. No one understands what true justice is anymore, instead jumping through red tape to make themselves look good. The wicked should be punished to the full extent. The heroes of this world need a major overhaul, and Japan will be the first to witness it."

"So you want to kill me, is that it?" He managed to slip a few fingers free. "And then what?"

"Ah, look at that, you got me monologuing." She chuckled. "You think you can get me to reveal my master plan? I'm well aware of hero tactics. Besides, what fun is there unless you figure it out when it's already too late? Let's see how much longer you can call yourself hero."

The ground rumbled as a train raced through the station on the closest track. The noise reverberated off the walls, making Izuku's headache that much worse.

"You brought me here for a reason." His wrist slipped free, but the rest of his arm was still trapped behind his back. "For some sort of retribution. Revenge."

"Oh, I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you think." She bent down and patted his cheek. "No, I think you'll be more than capable of that yourself."

If she was going for ominous, she nailed it. Although he wasn't too sure of the 'no hurting' part. Villains don't just kidnap someone and bring them to an abandoned subway station in who-knows-where to have a nice chat. She was up to something, but the 'what' was still unclear.

The air beside them bent into a point before it expanded back out, bringing two people with it, both of which he recognized. A disturbing copy of himself holding onto what he prayed wasn't the real you. The 'what' suddenly became crystal clear.

"Gah, shit!" Fake Izuku toppled over, clutching his leg that had turned into a popsicle. "That damn bastard!"

You fell on your butt and scuttled backward, running into the decayed staircase. Your head swiveled around, taking in the new environment before finally landing on him.

"Izuku?" You asked.

All he could do was stare. You were still in your house clothes and slippers. Hair hung loosely around your head and he could see dark bags under your wide eyes. His escape plan just got upgraded to an emergency.

His face darkened and he turned his deadly glare on Ikari. "She's got nothing to do with this. It's me you're angry with."

Ikari looked over at you curiously. "Oh, but I went through all the trouble of bringing her here and you don't even say hello to your wife?" She headed your way. "It's awfully rude to ignore guests."

The chains dug into his skin as he struggled to free himself, he no longer cared about being discreet. One of the many parts bolted into the walls broke free. The chains themselves only coiled tighter, pressing into his lungs.

"Ikari, stop!"

She made a beeline for you with a smirk that spelled anything but nice. You used the broken down canopy that covered the stairs to pull yourself up and looked around for something to use for defense.

Ikari stopped short and turned to Fake Izuku, who was looking less and less like him by the second. Green hair had grown out to his shoulder and turned a rusty red. His muscular frame shrunk into more feminine shape. His face changed completely. The imposter wasn't a man at all, but it was someone you both recognized. You'd seen her enough on the news, giving the morning traffic reports from her helicopter. The same reporter who had gone missing, along with the helicopter that stole Izuku away.

"You're late Shizue." Ikari looked down at the woman.

Shizue, who was still nursing her frozen leg, looked up. "Well obviously I ran into some complications." She grumbled. "But I got the girl."

"You were supposed to get both." Ikari rubbed her forehead. "It was a simple snatch and run. Please tell me you didn't play actor again."

"What was I supposed to do? There were heroes there. You never said anything about heroes." She complained. "You said it would be easy, just off some officers and we're good to go." She got up and carefully tested her weight on the icicle of a leg. "Besides, it was a golden opportunity to try out my latest one." She held her hand over her leg and the ice shattered.

Ikari closed her eyes and shook her head before she set her focus back on you. "I'm glad you could make it Y/N. It wouldn't be any fun without you."

You glanced back at Izuku and noticed the mask lying on the ground next to him. It was a Kabuki mask. The same Kabuki mask that everyone had been working so hard to find.

"So you're Kabuki." You gripped the metal railing behind you. "Didn't expect you to be a girl."

She chuckled and leaned in close. "What? Ladies can't take initiative too?" Her hand reached for your chin and you pressed against the rail in an effort to avoid her. She snagged your face and forced you to look at her. "Do you know why you're here?"

You glanced at Izuku, who struggled in his binds. "To...kill me." The words were barely audible, but Izuku still seemed to hear.

He stopped struggling for a second to look at you, tears had pooled in his eyes and threatened to spill over. You two locked eyes. He was trying to communicate so many things with one look.

"Now why would I do that? You just got here." She pulled you off the stairs, slung an arm around your shoulders, and marched over to Izuku. "I'm sure you're dying to talk to him though." She laughed at her own joke. You did not.

She stopped a few feet from Izuku, who glared up at her. "She's innocent. Just let her go and I promise I'll stay."

Ikari frowned. "Innocent? What about all the others then? Weren't they innocent too?" She dug her nails into your shoulder. "Because of you, they're dead. Because of you, I couldn't save them. Because of you, I was forced to run while you went on to become the Number One Hero. A bit ironic, isn't it?"

She released you, only to grab your hair and yank you back into her so she could loop an arm around your throat.

"Call me a villain, I don't care anymore." From her sleeve, a thin metal arrow slowly slid out. "Titles won't matter for much longer anyway." She looked at Izuku. "You ruined everything I had achieved in just a few days." The sharp tip of the arrow rested just below your chin and slightly dug in. "What would you do if I ruined yours in just a few seconds?" The sharp tip tore through the skin as she drew a thin line across.

You frantically tried to tear her off with a terrified yelp. She didn't cut in very far, but it still hurt all the same.

Izuku went crazy, he thrashed so hard that three bolts ripped off the wall, giving him more room to move. The chains around him squeezed so hard he lost his breath, but it didn't deter him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Ikari threatened, lifting your head back to expose more of your throat. "Unless you do want me to kill her right here, right now."

"What do you want?" He stilled and gave his best I will destroy you glare.

"Hmm?" She tapped the blade against your throat. "I believe you already know that."

The blade retracted back into her sleeve and she threw you to the ground, by his feet. You scooted away from her, bumping into Izuku behind you. One hand held your neck and the other grabbed hold of his shirt. The small incision wasn't deep or all that concerning, even if it did dribble down in a steady flow. Cuts always bleed worse than they really are, at least that's what you told yourself.

"Are you okay?" You glanced at him.

He blinked. "Me?" He shook his head. "I'm so sorry. I'll get you out of here".

You nodded. If Izuku says he's going to do something, then he finds a way to do it. The problem was that doing just that would be a lot more challenging without his quirk, which was somehow being suppressed at the moment.

"Big words for a man in your position." Ikari pulled out a small pouch from her coat and tossed it between her hands. "But don't worry, I came bearing gifts."

She snapped her fingers and Shizue hobbled over to you and yanked you to your feet. You struggled against her as she dragged you away.

Izuku yelled at her, trying his best to worm himself out of the chains. The problem was that Ikari had full control over metal and any attempt he made at breaking free, she would only restrain him further.

With one of Shizue's legs still damaged, you exploited it and pushed into her as hard as you could. Her arms windmilled before she crashed to the ground. You had no idea what to do. Should you run and get to safety? That's what he would want you to do. Or should you try and free him? There was no way to get past Ikari, break the chains, and escape.

"Go!" He could see your hesitance. "Run!"

A mini tug-of-war battle waged in your mind. You would be no help if you stayed. But if you ran, would she just kill him anyway? It was a choice you didn't really have time to debate. Ikari brought you here for a reason: to hurt Izuku. Running was your best option. If you could just find some heroes to help, then you could help him. You took off.

Shizue clamored to her feet, muttering something about doing all the work and took off after you with a heavy limp. Even though her leg was messed up, she was still pretty fast.

Your first thought was the stairs, but one look at them and you needed to rethink. The entire thing had been sealed off with clumps of random metal all fused together. There was no way you'd be getting out that way.

Shizue grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. You grabbed hold of the railing to steady yourself, but one of the poles snapped off and you lost your balance. You toppled into her and you both went down. The pole landed next to you, so you grabbed it and scrambled away from her. She grabbed your foot as you stood and you whacked her hand with the pole. She let you go with a scream and clutched her hand.

That was your chance, so you got back to your feet and sprinted down the platform. The station itself wasn't all that big and you found yourself at the end of the platform in no time, with no where else to go. As far as you could tell, the only exit was the blocked off staircase. Across the tracks was another platform with another set of stairs, but if the villains were smart, they would've blocked that too. There was another option, a much more dangerous option. You could always run down the tracks and try to escape through another station, but you'd have to be faster than a train. The horn sounded from the tunnel, yeah, there was no way you'd outrun a train.

The collar of your sweater was yanked back, nearly choking you as she grabbed you from behind. She had a handful of sweater, so you twisted around and ducked out. The fabric ripped and you stumbled back. Damn, that was one of your favorite sweaters too, Inko had gotten it for you a few Christmas's ago.

You didn't realize how close to the edge you were and one foot slipped off. Shizue was actually the one to save you from the fall. She grabbed your collar as you tipped off the edge, but didn't make any effort to pull you back up. Your fingers scrabbled at her jacket in an effort to hang on and your hand smacked the device around her waist.

The ground rumbled as the lights of the train flooded the tunnel. The tracks squealed as the train rushed into the station.

"Shizue." Ikari warned.

Shizue didn't take her eyes off you, a sadistic smile on her face. "Oops." She let go and you fell off the platform, right onto the tracks of the speeding train.

Izuku wrenched out the last of the bolts keeping him locked in place and fell forward, struggling with the coiling chains. He screamed and writhed, making every effort to escape, but without the strength of his quirk, he couldn't break out of Ikari's.

The train didn't even slow down and after a few moments, left the station. Shizue peered over the edge and crossed her arms. All that was left was a slipper.

"Shizue!" Ikari barked. "You idiot! That wasn't the plan!"

Shizue rolled her eyes, still clutching her hand as she made her way back over. "Chill out, geez. She was gonna die anyway."

"You are ruining my plans." She stepped closer to Shizue. "I don't care how important you think you are, if you do that again, I will kill you."

She narrowed her eyes. "Yeah? Well good luck finding someone else to make your supply."

The two women glared at each other before Ikari took a deep breath and turned back to an enraged Izuku. There was a murderous look on his face that even caused her some pause.

She knelt in front of him, dumping some shiny blue powder into her hand. "That's a bit disappointing, but at least I can still test my new blend."

"My new blend." Shizue mumbled behind her.

Izuku managed to get back to his knees, the chains struggling to hold him in. He was silent as he brought his head up, making eye contact with her. The air seemed to take on weight as his eyes bore into hers with such malice.

"Don't give me that look." She said, leaning away from him. "You know this is your fault Deku. Take some responsibility." She blew the powder in his face just as he headbutted her.

The bag flew out of her hand as she fell back, holding her nose. It was too late though, the powder clouded around his head and he gagged on it. He tried to hack it out, but powder clung to him, coating his mouth and throat. He choked and fell onto his stomach, face pressed into the ground.

Ikari stood up, holding her bloody nose. "Let's go."

Shoto gripped the wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. They'd left the house once the police arrived to take over. Momo sat in the back with Inko, who had retreated back into her silent shock. No one had spoken a word since they left.

Ochaco had been carted away to the hospital. She'd lost a lot of blood and was barely conscious by the time the ambulance arrived. Shoto had managed to get a few key details from her and had sent Bakugo to the hospital to get the rest of the story.

The three of them were headed to the police station. It was clear Inko was also a target, which meant that she needed a safe, well, a more guarded place, until this was all resolved. At the station, she would have eyes on her at all times. Momo volunteered to stay with her until they found both you and Izuku.

Shoto's phone rang and he answered, the light of an oncoming car illuminated his face. "Chief, we're almost there."

"I've got officers waiting outside for you." Tsukauchi said. "Shinso's still here too."

He nodded. "We're ten minutes out."

He hung up and glanced in the rearview mirror. Momo was staring at Inko, who in turn, was staring out the window, gripping her hands tightly on her lap.

Another phone buzzed, on the seat between the two women. That was Ochaco's phone. It was left behind, so Momo had taken it for safe-keeping. A new text had come through. Momo wasn't one to pry, but given the circumstances, she allowed herself to look. It was only three words. She blinked and read them again.

"Shoto." Momo looked up. They made eye contact through the mirror. "I've got something."

Getting pushed in front of a speeding train was not a fun experience. Your back hit the tracks first, narrowly avoiding that third rail full of high voltage electricity. There was no time to think about the pain that sparked up your spine as you put all your muscles to work and rolled off the tracks, losing one of your slippers in the process. The train barreled through as you landed in the gravel, just inches from the tracks.

You laid there for a moment and let your mind catch up to what just happened as you watched the cars bobble through, the wind blasting your hair back. This wasn't the right time to sit and freak out though, they were still on the other side.

The two tracks were separated by a row of support beams and thick cement barricades. You jumped over one of the barricades and crouched as low as you could. It was wide enough to cover you, as long as they didn't come over to investigate. The train left, leaving a hollow emptiness to the station and you put a hand over your mouth to stifle your heavy breaths.

From the platform, you could hear the two villains arguing with each other, the words were too echoed to hear right, but they didn't seem happy with each other. There sounded like a small scuffle and Izuku yelled, the chains jingled. You didn't dare look, for fear they might see you. Right now, you were at an advantage, and you wanted to keep it that way. Just hide and wait for help, except no one knew where you were.

In your pocket was your phone, well your replacement anyway. The last one was still at the bottom of the river. Ochaco had given this one to you for the time being, in case of emergencies. This would definitely qualify as an emergency.

As quietly as you could, you slipped the phone out. This new one was temporary, which meant that none of your old contacts were transferred yet, and you never took the time to memorize anyone's number. Well, aside from Izuku's, but calling him wouldn't really help at the moment.

Calling was also a problem. It would be too risky to answer anyone's questions, they might hear you. So you'd have to settle for texting. You opened up the phone and almost let out an audible sigh of relief. There was one contact saved into the phone. Ochaco. She must have put her number in before giving it to you.

Your trembling fingers quickly typed out a message and sent it. SOS can't talk.

The station had gone eerily silent, aside from the constant hissing and distant sounds of horns. No voices, no chains, nothing.

The phone dinged and you curled around it, praying no one heard that. When no one came charging into view, you looked down at the response.

Tracking phone. Then a second message. Are you safe? - Momo

You blew out a quiet breath and clutched the phone to your chest. Momo had responded. She would know what to do and she would find you. All you had to do was hold out until then. The only thing that bothered you, aside from the obvious, was the silence.

A quick peek around the barrier and you saw the platform was empty, aside from Izuku, who was sprawled out on the ground, free of his chains. The two villains were nowhere to be seen. Had they just left? That didn't make any sense. Why would they leave when they already had the hero at their mercy? Something else had to be at play.

You focused on Izuku. He was lying face down, but you could see the rise and fall of his chest; he was breathing. Actually, he was breathing to much. It almost looked like he was hyperventilating.

On the phone, you typed out another quick text. Hiding. Two villains. Izuku's here.

After a few moments of watching him struggle to breathe, you couldn't stand it. The villains seemed to have left him for some reason and for all you know, he could be bleeding out, left to die. That was something you couldn't idly watch.

The phone buzzed again. Stay put. Let him handle it. We are coming.

How long would that take? Izuku could be dying and since they didn't come after you, there was a fair chance they thought you might already be dead. Maybe that's all they wanted. To kill you in front of him and then leave him to die.

He's hurt. You typed out.

Not even a second passed before she sent a response. Do NOT engage. Stay hidden.

That was easy to say, but what if you stayed put and he ended up bleeding to death, or died some other way? You might not have been a hero, but you were a nurse and you had to deal with the aftermath of battles and everyday accidents. This was what you were good at, and this is what Izuku needed, so you couldn't just stay hidden. But you did as she said, well, for the first two minutes. It was quiet, you were almost positive they had left.

You stood up, keeping low as you looked around. No one popped out so you hopped over the barricade. Your shoe-less foot stepped on something sharp and you hopped back with a quiet gasp. A small shard of glass stuck out on the bottom of your foot and you plucked it out. The ground was littered with dangerous debris, you'd have to be careful.

The missing slipper was still lying on the tracks, but it was shredded beyond use. Something else caught your eye, lying beside it. You limped over for closer examination. It was a small vial filled with dark liquid. It looked just like one of the vials on Shizue's contraption. You picked it up and the liquid sloshed inside. There was a label on the side with a word scribbled out in neat handwriting: Blacklash. That made no sense to you, but you slipped it into your pocket anyway.

The platform itself was about five feet off the ground. It took a few attempts, but you managed to crawl onto it. Another scan of the area and they were still nowhere to be found. If it was a trap of some sort and Izuku was the bait, then who exactly were they trying to catch? It wasn't you, they could easily find and subdue you without the elaborate scheme. It had to be something else. The other heroes maybe?

"Izuku?" You whispered, standing up.

His breath hitched and his back arched. He flattened his palms on the ground and pressed his face into the cement. A coughing fit wracked his body. There didn't seem to be any new injuries on him, well, no obvious ones anyway.

Since you already lost one, you decided to just take the other slipper off. You made your way over to him, one eye on your surroundings.

"Hey, Izuku," you knelt in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Where did they go? What happened? Are you hurt?"

He refused to move, to look up at you. From his position, you could see the dried blood that coated the top of his head, mangling his hair. He was still injured from the crash and you had no way of knowing what sort of internal injuries he had. One hand clawed at the floor, nails scraped so hard a few of them broke.

"Izuku," you reached for him, but that same hand suddenly lurched out and caught your wrist.

Through his labored breathing, he managed to get a few words out. "Go." He said into the ground. "Get away."

"What?" You stared at his hand, the nails were bloody. "They're gone, we both need to go. Can you stand?"

He lifted his head. Dark spots of blue dust covered his face, mixing with his sweat. He locked eyes with you and you knew something was wrong, like really wrong. His pupils were blown, so much so that you could barely see any green left. His grip on your wrist was tight and it kept getting tighter.

"Ow," you hissed. "Izuku, stop, you're hurting me." You tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let go. You stood up and tried to pry his fingers off, but he was too strong. "Izuku, let go."

He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead back into the floor. "G...go." He said that, yet he squeezed so hard, you felt your bones grind.

On the ground next to him was a small pouch, blue dust spilled out of the top. Those blue spots on his face looked exactly like Kirishima's after he'd been dosed with Kabuki's drug. You knew firsthand how volatile he'd gotten. If Izuku had been dosed with the same thing, then it didn't look good for either of you.

You gasped and fell back to your knees as your bone popped. If he squeezed much harder, your wrist would snap.

"Stop," you clawed at his hand. "Stop!"

He didn't even seem to hear you. His entire body trembled as he slowly pushed himself up; one hand still trying to dig into the ground while the other had an iron clamp on you. His matted hair fell into his face as he looked at you. The expression that crossed his face was something you'd never thought you'd see on him, much less directed at you: pure malice.

He twisted your wrist, drawing you closer and you yelped. Your panicked mind did the only thing it could think of. You slapped him across the face.

He momentarily loosened his grip enough for you to pull away. You fell backward and scurried out of his reach.

He blinked, staring at the ground, hand still raised, clutching nothing but air. It was like his brain was trying to calculate what just happened, and you weren't too keen on sticking around for him to figure it out.

As slow as you dared, you got to your feet, and took quiet steps back. You didn't want anything to set him off, and he was definitely way too unstable to talk with that drug coursing through him. You had to keep reminding yourself that the heroes were on their way.

Izuku let out a shaky groan and grabbed fistfuls of hair, leaning forward. It looked as though he was trying to fight against it, but drugs weren't something easily conquered. You would know, you'd seen enough overdoses come through your E.R. This was still a relatively unknown drug, that as far as you knew, caused extreme aggression.

The problem was that there was nowhere to escape too and very few hiding places. All the exits were sealed and most things had long been looted, leaving very little to work with. A deep horn blared from far off in the left tunnel; another train was coming.

The sound seemed to stir him. Green sparks jumped off his skin. His quirk was back, which was not good news for you. You needed a plan, and fast. Izuku lurched forward, his hands slapping the ground, cracks spiderwebbed out from underneath him. Then he looked up at you, eyes almost entirely black. He looked so un-Izuku-like that you could hardly believe that it was him.

A chill ran down your spine and only one thought came to mind: run.

Behind you, Izuku got to his feet and stumbled for balance. He looked almost drunk. No, that wasn't quite right either. You'd seen him drunk before, he would get all red-faced and giggly, not scary and demonic. This was a side to him you'd never seen before, and it scared you to your core. Even if he was weakened, he was still an incredibly formidable foe, one you'd never thought you'd have to face, yet here you were, running from your demon possessed husband, you know, like any normal couple.

Your phone! You dug it out of your pocket and called Momo. She picked up immediately.

"Y/N. Thank god." She sighed. "Are you okay? What's happening?"

A horn blared from far off down the tunnel as you sprinted to the end of the platform and glanced back at Izuku, who wobbled in place. "No, no. I'm with Izuku, but it's that drug, the same as Kirishima." Faded lights filled the tunnel. "That's why they left! I think, I think he's gonna..." You trailed off, grabbing your hair.

"I've got your location." She sounded so calm, controlled. "I've sent the heroes, they'll be there. Stay calm. Can you find a place to hide?"

"You're not coming?" A new spike of fear pierced your heart.

She was silent for a moment. "I can't. It's too far away, but I promise, help is coming."

"Too far?" You glanced down the tunnel, the floor rumbled as the train approached. "Where am I?"

She seemed hesitant to answer. "New York City."

"America?" You hissed. "How the hell-"

"A teleportation quirk, most likely." She said. "Just stay on the line, they shouldn't be too far off. Just a little longer."

A quick peek back at Izuku had your heart nearly leap into your throat. His eyes were locked onto you, face contorted into a menacing sneer, and lightning flickered off his skin.

"I don't think I have a little longer." You whispered.

He crouched and launched himself at you. For as clumsy as he looked, he was still extremely fast. You only had seconds to jump to the side or be smashed into the wall. Unfortunately, there was no more platform to jump on, which meant you hurled yourself over the edge, right onto the tracks. Something sharp stabbed your thigh and you cried out.

The train entered the station and you scrambled off the tracks, breathing heavy as it raced between the two of you, providing some temporary cover. You needed to move, to hide. Whatever had stabbed your thigh had left a sizable gash, but at least you could still walk on it, so that's what you did.

The only place left to really hide was back behind the barriers. You dove behind them again, hoping to god that his senses had also been dulled. He was the greatest hero in Japan and that title came with some serious battle skills, one's you certainly didn't have.

The train left and you covered your mouth to quiet your breathing. You had a death grip on the phone, but talking now would only reveal your location. Instead, you held it up to your ear, an almost inaudible whine escaped your throat.

Izuku grunted as he pulled himself from the dent in the wall, tile shattering as it fell out. You didn't dare look, but you could hear him shuffling around as the train disappeared down the tunnel.

"Momo." You couldn't help the pathetic mewl that puttered out. This was an entirely new experience. You'd always had that reassurance that if anything ever went wrong, Izuku would always be there to back you up. This time though, they'd turned this into some sort of twisted reversal. That single punch was meant to kill. If he got to you again...

"Hang on, hang on!" She'd lost that calm façade. "I'll-I'll figure this out, I promise!"

The crunch of gravel caught your attention and you pressed your back into the barricade. By the sound of it, he'd jumped off the platform, headed in your direction. A shadow loomed over you and you curled up against the barrier, praying to whatever deity that was listening, that he wouldn't find you.

A few tense moments passed before the shadow disappeared. Not a second later, the entire barricade was ripped from the ground and you fell back with a startled scream. Standing over you was a green-haired beast.

...

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flintwoodandco · 3 years

Text

Three Is Not A Crowd

Summary: Neville and Oliver like to bring strangers home.

Neville should recognize this one, but doesn’t, and Oliver is, well, blindfolded.

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Choose Your Own Universe, Established Neville/Oliver, Pre-negotiated Kink, Threesome, Safe Sane and Consensual

Warnings: Polyamory, Frottage, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Awkward Sexual Situations, Spitroasting, Dirty Talk

Words: 2509

A/N: brainworm .... may write more about these three.

if there’s anything else i should tag on ao3, lmk!!

AO3

They had been stealing glances for minutes now.

Like always, Neville waited, testing the waters. Whenever he took a sip from his pint, the man across the bar followed suit. Then, their eyes would meet before they pretended to get caught up in something else.

Whether it was the man’s steel grey eyes or his rugged–and handsome in their own way–looks, Neville was intrigued. Enough was enough. Taking a long drink, Neville steadied himself and made his way over to the other side of the bar.

“Care to buy a man a drink?” he grinned as he took an empty barstool next to the stranger.

“What about the one you just had?” the man teased back.

Neville smirked at this, letting his leg brush against the man’s as he turned towards him. “Well, there’s still room for shots isn’t there?”

With a quirk of an eyebrow, the man then flagged down the bartender and ordered two shots, dark and unidentifiable. Toasting each other, Neville didn’t let his gaze stray as they took their shots, the liquor burning as it flowed down his throat.

“Got any plans for the rest of the evening?” Neville said as his confidence grew.

If only his old schoolmates could see him now, a far cry from the timid boy he once was. It only made him stand even taller, flashing a wicked smile at the man.

“Well, if you’ve got time in your busy schedule for me,” the man licked his lips.

At this, Neville couldn’t help himself. He dove in, stealing a kiss from the man, who eagerly pushed back. Their kiss broke with a small bite and Neville cleared his throat, reminding himself of his task.

“Just one thing,” Neville began, “I, well, I have a boyfriend–” the man’s face fell and Neville stumbled over his next words. “But! We like to fool around! Bring in another person. If that’s alright with you.”

“Oh,” the man blinked. Neville’s stomach dropped and he waited for the rejection. “More than alright.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Neville leaned forward, placing a kiss on the corner of the man’s mouth. “Suppose we shouldn’t keep him waiting then, hm?”

Neville took the man’s hand and the two quickly paid for their drinks before heading out of the bar. Outside, they met in another heated kiss and Neville’s knees weakened. This felt so right, the excitement, the unknown that laid before them.

“Got your boyfriend all tied up or something?” the man asked when they parted for a moment.

“You could say that,” Neville toyed, unable to stop his cheeky grin.

Amongst rough kisses and heavy petting, somehow Neville managed to get the two of them back to his shared flat. Make-out sessions against the door and down the hall finally brought them to the bedroom where upon opening the door, Neville was able to see all his hard work coming to fruition.

On the bed, his boyfriend–Oliver–writhed as a whine left him. His wrists were tied up, eyes covered with a black cloth while a red ball gag held his mouth open. His body, fully nude, shifted against the sheets, the vibrator inside of him buzzing on his sweet spot.

Neville grinned as the man stared on, almost to the point of drooling. “If he didn’t have that cock ring on, he’d have come five times by now,” Neville whispered in the man’s ear.

Stepping away, Neville stripped himself of his clothes and climbed onto the bed, running his hand down Oliver’s side. “We’ve got a guest, sweetheart. Let’s put on a show.”

Oliver moaned in return, his hips bucking up as Neville’s fingers trailed lower. Looking back over at the man, Neville held his stare as his fingertips ghosted along Oliver’s cock before sliding lower, teasing at the pulsing entrance.

With a low groan, the man all but tore off his clothes, landing on the bed with heavy movements. Neville pulled him in for another kiss and the two moaned loudly as their tongues shoved in and out of each other’s mouths.

Neville’s smile never wavered, especially when he felt Oliver twist and shake from his fingers playing around with the vibrator. With an agonizing, slow pace, Neville pulled the vibrator out, before tugging the man to sit between Oliver’s legs.

“Why don’t you have the honors?” Neville offered, his hand stroking the man’s hardened cock a few times.

The man nodded, a shaky breath leaving him and Neville felt his cock twitch. Without clothes, Neville could see the man’s shaped abs, his bulky form and he almost thought about offering his own ass up first. However, Oliver had been so patient. Neville didn’t want to neglect him.

“Alright, darling, let’s work that mouth of yours,” Neville sat across Oliver, his cock landing on Oliver’s face.

Oliver nuzzled the cock and Neville steeled himself, lest he started rubbing on Oliver’s face to get off on that alone. When Oliver froze, Neville looked over his shoulder, watching as the man entered Oliver. He slid in easily, filling Oliver up to the hilt. Oliver and the man moaned together, but it wasn’t until the man started thrusting, rough and slow, that Neville took the gag off of Oliver.

Giving Oliver only a moment to breathe, Neville then shoved the head of his cock into Oliver’s mouth and swore as Oliver worked his magic. Oliver’s tongue teased him, his lips sucked Neville deeper, until the world faded away. Neville worked himself in and out of Oliver’s mouth, timing himself with the man’s thrusts until the sound of slapping skin, heavy moans filled the room.

This was ecstasy. Neville looked behind him to see the man gripping tight to Oliver’s hips, slamming into him and Oliver’s cock bouncing against his stomach. The sight was beautiful, Neville wishing he could see multiple angles at once.

“Take that cock ring off of him, will you?” Neville panted as he kept fucking Oliver’s mouth. “He’s been such a good boy after all.”

The man agreed, freeing Oliver from the cock ring. In a few thrusts, Oliver was screaming against Neville’s cock, cum coating his stomach and Neville’s back. The vibrations only helped bring Neville to his own orgasm and he spilled into Oliver’s mouth, a gasp leaving him as he endlessly came. A grunt from the man was all Neville needed to hear to know that Oliver was being filled up and he grabbed onto the headboard to keep himself from collapsing.

“Fuck,” the man rasped out and Neville couldn’t help but agree.

With gentle moves, Neville pulled himself away from Oliver and freed his wrists before laying next to him. “Alright there?” Neville checked in as he untied the blindfold.

“Never better,” Oliver managed, his voice raw.

The two shared a passionate kiss before Neville turned to the man to ask how he was. Until Neville saw the confused stare on the man’s face.

“Flint?” Oliver’s voice shot up in pitch.

Neville could only watch as Oliver scrambled into a seated position, knees up as if to protect himself while the man at the end of the bed jumped off, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Wait, what?” Neville looked between the two men, confusion and fear colliding together.

“Wood,” the man spoke at last before his stare snapped over to Neville. “Hold on...Longbottom?”

Neville’s stomach sank. Suddenly, there was something familiar about this man and old, haunted memories from school filled Neville’s brain.

“You didn’t recognize him?” Oliver brought Neville back to the moment at hand. “You’ve been to all my games, we went to school with him.”

“I…,” Neville sifted through scrambled thoughts but nothing made sense. “To be fair, my focus was...has always been on you, Oliver,” Nevilled then defended himself.

“Holy shit,” Marcus breathed, running his hands down his face. “When did you get fit, Longbottom?”

Neville blinked at this. He had expected yelling, some choice insults. Not Marcus Flint staring at him with a renewed hunger. Heat coiled in Neville’s stomach and he suddenly felt the need to cover himself.

“Alright now, he’s my boyfriend,” Oliver nearly growled as he took Neville’s hand in his own.

“Yeah, but, we all just fucked,” Marcus shrugged as if there was no problem at all. “I don’t think anything here is exactly conventional.”

Neville looked between the two men, Oliver glaring Marcus down as Marcus pretended there was something interesting on his arm. Just minutes before they were all on the bed, having the time of their lives. There was plenty to say but Neville couldn’t focus on any of it.

Laughter burst out of Neville and he could only collapse on the bed as his stomach began to hurt. Yet, the laughter didn’t stop. He could feel the stares, feel Oliver’s concerned touches, but it took what seemed like eons before Neville finally caught his breath.

“Oh, fuck,” Neville giggled as he properly sat up. “This certainly is something, isn’t it?”

Wiping the tears away from his eyes, Neville’s pride swelled as both Oliver and Marcus had small smiles of their own. It was almost too impossible to be believed and yet everything that had transpired on this night was perfectly real.

“Well, I suppose we could start over,” Oliver mused, his gaze straying over to Marcus. “It’s not as if I’ve ever truly hated you. Just...”

“...Good, old fashioned rivalry,” Marcus supplied. “And you, Long–er, Neville,” Marcus caught Neville’s attention. “I’m sorry about everything that happened at school. What my classmates did. What I did.”

The corner of Neville’s mouth twitched and he nodded. “Thank you, Marcus. Though, you didn’t really do–”

“–but I should have been better, should have stopped them or something,” Marcus was quick to jump in. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

Neville fell silent then and leaned into Oliver as his arm wrapped around him. School had not been easy by any means, but Neville was finally healing, ready to move on. Swallowing, Neville settled into his resolution and brought Marcus into a small kiss. The hesitation from Marcus only solidified Neville’s choice, their embrace ending all too soon. Neville was quick to kiss Oliver as well, the love of his boyfriend helping Neville feel safe and sound.

The silence in the room was deafening and despite everything, Neville wanted to go back to where it was before, when the evening had begun. Sharing a stare with Oliver was all it took before Neville was watching Oliver kiss Marcus, an unresolved tension finally breaking between the two.

As Marcus’ hand slid up his thigh, Neville’s stress fell from his shoulders and he was quick to dive back in, nipping and kissing along Marcus’ neck. Before Neville knew it, he was wrapped up in Oliver’s arms, fingers ghosting along his chest and teasing his nipples. A small moan left him, earning a wicked grin from Marcus.

“Sensitive?” Marcus teased before he leaned down, taking one of the nipples in his mouth.

Neville’s hands flew to Marcus’ hair and he whimpered as Oliver flicked one nipple while Marcus’ tongue swirled around the other. Strong hands gripped onto his waist, sure to leave deep bruises that Neville would never want to fade.

“What do you want, love?” Oliver whispered in Neville’s ear, his teeth grazing along the curve of Neville’s neck.

“Fuck, anything, everything,” Neville panted, his back arching as Marcus’s mouth traveled down his stomach.

The snap of a bottle cap and Marcus’ mouth on his cock forced Neville’s eyes wide open. He shuddered, letting his body be rearranged so he was kneeling. Marcus went on his hands and knees, still pleasing Neville’s cock while Oliver’s oiled fingers traced along Neville’s rim.

Neville pleaded for more as Oliver’s finger pushed into him, only to have his breath caught in his throat as Marcus wrapped his hand around Neville’s cock. Sitting up, Marcus pulled Neville into an open kiss, moans exchanged between the two as Oliver stretched Neville open.

“More, yes,” Neville trembled, leaning on Marcus to steady himself.

“Needy too,” Marcus joked as he slowly pumped Neville’s cock. “Any other secrets to Neville, Wood?”

Neville could see Oliver’s evil grin in his mind and when Oliver brushed against his prostate, Neville lost any coherency he still had. His moan filled the room, followed by breathy laughs that shot along his spine.

“Please, Oliver, put your cock in me,” Neville begged, his hands gripping tight to Marcus’ shoulders.

Letting the two men move him around, Neville found himself staring right into Marcus’ eyes as Oliver pushed into him.

“Beautiful,” Marcus breathed against Neville’s lips, holding his head in place by simply holding his chin. “I can’t wait to see what you look like when you come.”

Neville groaned at this, pushing his ass back against Oliver to make him move faster.

“Easy there,” Oliver held onto Neville’s hips. “You’ll get what you want, sweetheart.”

With his free hand, Marcus gripped his and Neville’s cocks in a tight hold, rubbing them together as Oliver began to thrust into Neville.

“Oh, fuck,” Neville’s voice shook.

It all felt so good–the two bodies he was stuck between, the stretch of Oliver’s cock, Marcus’ rough pumping–he was losing himself in the best way and Neville let himself be consumed by Marcus’ deep, heavy stare.

Whines and moans escaped from Neville as Oliver and Marcus wrought out his pleasure, sending him closer to the edge with each passing moment. Oliver’s breaths warmed Neville’s neck while Marcus teased him with small kisses and nips on his lower lip.

Neville couldn’t hold back anymore and his head fell back onto Oliver’s shoulder as he reached his climax. A near scream tore itself from Neville’s throat, his cock awkwardly thrusting in Marcus’ hand. Cum covered his and Marcus’ stomachs, but Marcus continued to milk Neville dry as he reached his own orgasm with a sharp groan. Oversensitivity took over, causing Neville to whimper as Oliver pounded into him, Marcus’ hand still stroking the two of them. His nails dug into Marcus’ skin and when Oliver came, Neville let out a pleased moan.

All three men struggled to catch their breaths, holding each other up as bliss passed over them. When Neville lifted his head, he was greeted by the sight of Marcus licking the cum off his hand before Oliver snuck in a kiss from Marcus to have a taste. With Oliver slipping out of him, Neville lost his strength and he was happy to let Oliver lay him down, his mind still in a slight haze.

Neville tried to help clean up, but Oliver and Marcus were quicker, gracing Neville with small kisses before they finally settled on the bed. As sleep began to take over, Neville watched Oliver and Marcus take their places on either side of him, both men choosing to throw an arm over his waist.

As their legs tangled together, Neville settled into the warmth and exhaustion washed him away, a smile on his face as it did so.

#neville x oliver #oliver x neville #flintwood #neville x marcus #marcus x neville #Neville Longbottom #oliver wood #marcus flint #indigo writes shit #don't like don't read #polyamory

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