#no light queue shine can pierce the dark

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

Sketch me down, see me through – pt. 2

Summary: A couple of days after the sketch, things got a bit more complicated than what you expected

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: mentions of blood/sex/abuse, bit of violence, Astarion is a bit of a bitch but what's new, physical touch as a love language, first kiss, fluff

A/N: Enjoy the second part of this Astarion fic, here you can find Part 1 <3 (i wanted to post this tomorrow but i don't know how to queue posts correctly so @tripleyeeet @yn-ymn-yln enjoy!)

\_/

The cold light of the moon woke you up. It had slithered into your tent, bathing your pillow —and thus your face— with its silvery shine. You turned around, trying to fall back into your warm slumber, but with no luck.

Your head started roaming, thinking too much about everything. About the last few days and the subtle changes in Astarion’s behavior, his lingering gazes and the tension that stiffened his body every time you happened to tug him playfully or accidentally bump into him.

It was confusing, to say the least; making you rethink everything and pondering twice on every word you said before even uttering it.

With an irritated sigh, you pulled yourself up, sitting on your blankets as you stretched your neck and sore muscles. With another groan, you put on your boots and then walked outside.

The fire had burnt out, leaving behind just a few glowing embers that were bound to soon become cold, lifeless ash. The air stung the bare skin of your arms, colder than what you expected. You soon got used to it, thankful to that chillness for waking you up. Apart from a couple of owls shrieking in the distance and the snoring coming from some of the tents surrounding you, the camp was calm, a small Eden…

A rustling of leaves broke the silence, followed by some muffled swearing. Before you could reach for the dagger in your boot, a figure stumbled out of the woods, barely keeping themselves up. After a couple of unbalanced steps, the silhouette managed to stop, taking a deep breath as he straightened up, passing his hands through his silver hair.

“Astarion?”

“Oh.”

The moment he noticed it was you in the shadows, Astarion quickly passed his hands on his shirt, brushing away the leaves and branches that had stuck on the fabric. Then his signature smile was back on his lips, his grin as smug as ever as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“Hello, darling.”

“What are you doing out here?”

“I was performing my duty and keeping watch.” He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly as he scanned you, his eyes moving slowly up and down your body. “What about you, sweetheart?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged, trying to ignore his piercing gaze. “Too many thoughts.”

“Ah, yes.” He nodded, his focus shifting to his fingers. “I am familiar with the notion.”

You watched closely as he picked his nails. What you first mistook for a nervous fidgeting revealed to be something different, a thorough cleaning that also had to do with the red streaks on his shirt —barely visible in the darkness— and those same scarlet hues that painted his fingers and the corners of his mouth.

You narrowed your eyes, putting both of your hands on your hips; in the same way your mother used to when she found out you had done something that was against her rules.

“Why were you lurking in the forest?”

He chuckled, showing the tip of his canines and his teeth, still blood stained. “Lurking… such an evil word. I’m almost flattered.”

Astarion looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to indulge him in his jokes the same way you often did since you had become… friends? Close acquaintances? Occasional lovers? The label on your relationship —if you could even call it that— seemed to change with every new dawn.

Whatever you two could be considered, you stared unimpressed at him with your hands glued to your hips.

“I was just having a midnight snack,” he explained with a shrug, his head tilting backwards against the tree but without ever leaving your eyes. “You can stop torturing that pretty brain of yours now.”

“I thought we had an agreement.” You took a step forward as you frowned in confusion. “I feed you so you can stay strong and defend us.”

Defend me.

“That was the deal,” you continued, ignoring those few words stuck in your throat.

“Indeed it was.”

Astarion was still looking at you, staring into your eyes as he always did —with a grin plastered to his face— but there was something different in them this time. A dark glimmer you had only seen when he was on the battlefield. The look he reserved only to his enemies.

Your entire body crumbled in confusion, your face losing its frown, your arms falling on your sides in defeat. “Then why didn’t you ask?”

You hated how your voice almost cracked at the end of that sentence. How small you felt, how desperate as you begged for an explanation, and all of this, because of that softness near the fire.

After that night and the sudden indifference that followed, you had wondered many times if you had misunderstood that look in his eyes. If that tenderness you felt in his touch had never been there in the first place but created by your delusional mind, always craving for something more. Something real.

Or worse, if he had faked it so well that you had fallen for it.

Astarion’s gaze softened ever so slightly as he moved from the tree and stepped in front of you. You cursed mentally when your breath caught in your throat.

“You were sleeping too peacefully for me to disturb you,” he murmured, taking your chin in his fingers. His nails grazed your skin but you bit down a yelp of discomfort.

“But I’m glad to see that you’re as eager to help as always.” With a flick of his wrist, Astarion hit the bottom of your chin. “That’s what I like about you.”

It didn’t hurt, you had endured much worse treatments in your lifetime, but you knew it was not meant to. Not physically at least. You felt the strike tear into your belittled pride, his condescending tone ripping through it like teeth in the flesh.

“You didn’t want to disturb my sleep,” you repeated, your voice almost trembling in anger.

He took a step back, his arms open as he shrugged with a smirk until his back met the bark of the tree once again. “That is what I said, darling.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Like that’s stopped you before.”

As you waited for a sassy retort that didn’t come, Astarion remained silent as he crossed his arms. His eyes wandered away from yours to the deeper and darkest parts of the forest where the light of the moon couldn’t get past the thick canopy. You couldn’t tell if his elven ears had sensed something you were physically incapable to, or if he was just ignoring you like he did the past few days.

Before you could stop it, your tadpole squirmed behind your eye, reaching for Astarion. Searching for answers he wasn’t willing to give you with his own mouth. You managed to get only a glimpse of that darkness behind his eyes —an anger that he was barely able to contain— before your conscience smacked against a wall.

At the same time, Astarion’s head snapped towards you. “Did you really try to slither into my mind?”

An irritated surprise dripped from his voice, but you caught the flash of betrayal that crossed his face.

“I’m sorry.”

You pressed your palms to your eyeballs, trying to get rid of the prickly sensation of blooming tears. You took that moment in the black void to put your thoughts back into place; to calm your racing heart and give some sense to the storm raging in your head. “I just want to understand what’s going on, if I did something-”

“Why do you even care if I feed on you or not?”

Another wave of confusion washed over you as your hands fell to your sides. “What?”

“It sure must be draining for you,” —with a smooth movement, he pushed himself away from the tree— “letting me drink your blood every other day. Yet you always come through.” He smiled, his teeth poking through his grin almost menacingly. “So zealous and happy to please.”

He started circling you, like a murder of crows over a carcass. A sense of unease started creeping up on you, sending shivers down your spine as you followed closely his movements. You didn’t think he wanted to kill you, but if he put his mind to it, he probably could.

“But the question remains…” He took a step towards you, close enough for you to smell the blood stuck on his clothes. You moved backwards, immediately hitting a tree in your way. Astarion stood in front of you, his eyes almost piercing your soul. “Why do you do it?”

“You said it yourself,” you said calmly even though the blood in your veins had never pumped so quickly, “you’re stronger when you drink-”

He chuckled, clapping once his hands together. “I fear my point is not really coming across, so I’ll rephrase my question. What do you gain from that?”

“I… I don’t think I-”

Your words were cut when Astarion’s hand wrapped around your neck. He leaned closer, his breath tickling your skin and waking up a desire that was entirely uncalled for while you stared into the eyes of a predator.

“Sex, darling.” His whisper ran down your spine, shaking you to your core. “That’s what you gain from it.”

Memories flowed in your brain and you couldn’t tell if it was you who brought them up or Astarion. The digging of teeth in your throat and the metallic scent of your own blood stuffing the air around hit you harder than a sledgehammer. You were back on the ground, pinned down between him and the dirt. His hands held you down as he drank, roaming over your clothes, unclasping buckles and grasping handful of flesh.

There was the aching between your legs and the release that followed when his undivided attention moved from your neck to the rest of your body. And above all else, the pleasure of being wanted.

“That was not in the deal.” You shook your head as much as you could while your neck was still in his grip. “It’s something between us and you also gain from it.”

“I gain nothing from it.”

His grip tightened around around your throat as he hissed in your face, his nails digging a little too deep into your skin. Your tadpole squirmed, anticipating a wave of disgust and shame that shook every nerve and cell in your brain. You squeezed your eyes, almost overwhelmed by the revulsion pouring into you.

“You started it.”

You still remembered the first time it happened, a week or two into your agreement. Slightly light-headed from the blood loss, when Astarion moved away from your neck it took you a second to realize that he hadn’t left. He was still there, looking down on you with blood still dripping from his mouth.

“I could ease your pain, if you want. Just this one time.” His hand accompanied his words, slowly gliding down your chest and along your thighs. “But you have to ask first.”

Then it happened again. And again. And again. And then there was not one time when he fed on you that he didn’t eat twice.

You swallowed the memory, your throat barely moving in his grip. “If you didn’t want it then why-”

“Manipulation, sweetheart!” Astarion widened his arms, posing dramatically and thankfully freeing your neck. “I saw an opportunity to bring you to my side and I took it. It was instinctive, really,” he continued with a shrug as you massaged your sore neck, ��almost too easy creating a connection between pain and pleasure so you’d feed me willingly.”

A crease appeared between his eyebrows while his face crumpled in a pained expression. “It didn’t matter what it took to achieve it as long as it served me and my safety.”

Despite the fear still screaming inside, despite every survival instinct left in you, you stretched out your hand to him. Your fingertips brushed his bare forearm for a mere moment before he pulled away, his face distorted by an angry smile.

“But you have outplayed me.” He clapped slowly, loud enough for an animal nearby to scatter away in fear. “Bravo to you.”

You shook your head, even more lost than before. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you truly think me so foolish?”

His scream left his mouth like a curse, raw and jagged at the edges as his hand clenched his shirt right above his heart. The smug facade had crumbled, leaving behind a boiling anger that contorted his face. You heard more scattering in the forest: a rustling of leaves, flutters of wings, terrified chirps and squeaks as all the creatures in the surrounding area ran away.

Not you though. Immobile as the tree you were pressed against, you stood where you were, looking Astarion straight into his eyes as he pointed his finger to your face.

“You hide behind words of selflessness but you’re playing with me just as all the others before you. Always wanting,” he hissed, despair slowly filling his eyes as he lowered his hand and raised his chin, “always pushing for more.”

You clenched your jaw as the lump in your throat grew with every new arrow that Astarion aimed at your heart. “You’re painting me as someone I’m not.”

He scoffed again, as if your words were the mere whining of a spoiled kid. Taking another step closer to you, you could almost feel his anger blurring the air around him, its heat tingling on your skin.

“Then what was that? That desire next to the fire?” He tilted his head as his index moved up along your neck. “For a moment there, when I looked at the portrait you made, I thought you actually cared,” —his lips trembled with ache— “that I wasn’t just the pleasure I pushed you to want… but then I touched you and I saw it.” Astarion grabbed your chin tightly, making you impossible to look away. “That craving in your eyes.”

He leaned even closer, until your faces were barely apart.

“What did you want so badly?”

Finally all the pieces of the puzzle that you’d been gathering in the last few days finally snapped together. The blur in your head cleared and everything —or at least, most of it— started making sense once again. Sighing shakily your relief, your fingers slowly reached for the steel hand clawing to your chin

“I just wanted that,” you whispered as your fingertips brushed the pale skin of his hand. “That soft, kind touch.”

His muscles tensed under your touch, but this time Astarion didn’t jolt away. Inhaling sharply, he let you encase his fingers in yours, gradually loosening his grip around your face.

“The interest that you showed in me, the pleasure you gave me,” you shook your head, your gaze lowered on your joined hands. “It was flattering and I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, but I always knew it wasn’t entirely genuine. However, that closeness,” —your thumb moved almost instinctively as it caressed the back of his hand— “that softness you showed me…”

Your gaze snapped back up to him as you tried to breathe in as much air as you could. “I just wanted more of that intimacy.”

Astarion remained silent for a while, looking into your eyes as if —by not breaking eye contact with you— he would be able to catch a crack in your act.

When your tadpole squirmed, sensing Astarion’s doubt as he searched for more reassurance than just your words, you didn’t oppose any resistance. You pushed down the tiny ache of knowing that he still didn’t trust you completely and let your truest emotions come to the surface.

The moment the realization hit him, the anger on his face disappeared into thin air like smoke after a fire; all that was left behind was a broken relief. Astarion took a few steps back, letting go of your hand as he turned his back to you. He threw his head back and took a deep breath in, his hands planted on his slender waist.

As you followed him from a distance, you noticed a movement coming from one of the tents. Wyll was looking at you, his eyebrows creasing in worry as they keep darting from your face to Astarion, who was now pacing back and forth on the grass.

You wondered how long he had been standing there. How much he had seen. The mere thought made you feel extremely exposed, as though your clothes had suddenly became invisible to the naked eye. You silently reassured Wyll, your tadpole squirming even more behind your eyes while connecting to the warlock’s. You waved quickly at him, responding to his small smile, before he disappeared back into his tent.

You exhaled slowly, moving your gaze back to Astarion. He was still giving you his back, however he stood still under the moonlight, his hair almost reflecting the silvery rays. He looked like the moon itself: so beautiful, and yet so unreadable.

A sudden thought crossed your mind, the question that had been bugging you since the start of that entire ordeal, and to which you hadn’t got an answer yet. You took a deep as you got ready to utter those words, terrified of what the answer was going to be. Scared that the response would break your heart.

“Was it real, that kindness?”

Your voice trembled, barely able to contain the worry that threatened to spill from your eyes. “Or was it just another ruse of yours?”

Astarion turned around. His face was scarred by hurting despite the smile that was pulling his face.

“Of course it was real.” He held out his hands, almost trying to grasp the words he needed, before his arms fell back to his sides. “Otherwise, it would’ve made keeping you away much less painful to bear.”

You had never seen him look so helpless, so defenseless as he stared at you. Your heart broke at seeing him like, but there was still joy gushing through the cracks as you moved towards him. Taking those last few steps that kept you apart, you stopped only when your bodies were just a breath away.

“Why didn’t you talk to me?”

Moving carefully, you pushed your fingers forth until they gently brushed his hand. Once more, he tensed under your touch but didn’t move away.

“I’m not like you, darling.” His smug smile made a brief appearance before it split into an aching wince. “I don’t open up easily.”

“Really?” You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, which gained you a raised eyebrow from him. “It took me over a month to bring myself to sketch in front of anyone else. Honestly, I might be more mysterious than you are.”

Astarion scoffed playfully. “Darling, I am a riddle in vampire form: forever unknowable.” As you softly chuckled, his fingers moved and hooked onto yours. “However, I must admit that your secrecy is… very intriguing.”

“There’s nothing that interesting about my life,” you admitted softly, lowering your gaze. “It’s been a pretty boring existence before meeting you and the others.”

A second later, two fingers moved your chin up until your eyes were back into Astarion’s. Your breath stopped for a second when they moved along your jaw before gently cupping your cheek.

“There is —and never will be— nothing boring about you, sweetheart.” His thumb caressed your cheek as you stood still, too scared that he would take it back to move even the smallest muscle. “And even if there was, I’d be happy to hear all the tedious details. And perhaps contribute with some exciting tales if things do get too boring.”

You shook your head with a chuckle, gently tugging his hand. “I expected nothing less from you.”

He grinned, his hand moving down your neck and then brushing along your arm. “Am I already becoming so predictable?”

Before you could answer, Astarion wrapped his fingers around your wrist and brought your hand to his face. He placed your palm on his cheek and leaned into it. You immediately felt the tension in his clenched jaw, the sharp breath he took in and the way his fingers tightened around your hand.

“You don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to,” you whispered softly.

“Trust me, I do.” He closed his eyes as he leaned more into your touch. “I want to feel your fingers trace my features and remind me of their existence. I’m just…” —he inhaled and exhaled shakily, before a small grin appeared on his face, “adjusting to it, you know?”

You nodded with a smile. You understood completely as your palm adapted to the edges of Astarion’s face, to his heat —slightly lower than yours— and to the way your cheeks were also flushing as you watched Astarion slowly relax into your touch.

Freeing your other hand from his grip, you cupped his face and gently pulled him with you as you sat on the grass beneath. The ground was moist, the due dotting the stems slightly dampening your pants, but that was the last thing that could bother you in that moment.

When Astarion sat in front of you, you leaned forward, kneeling as you pointed at his crossed legs with a nod. “Can I sit there?”

A mischievous glint shone in his eyes, something you should’ve expected, but you shook your head, your serious frown never leaving your face. “And feel free to tell me to go fuck myself if you don’t want to, because I will.”

His hands had moved to your hips before you were finished, pulling you in his lap as his smirk grew even wider. “Oh, I’m sure you gladly would, wouldn’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head and biting your lower lip as your cheeks started burning up. “Shut up.”

Then your thumbs moved, circling on his cheekbones. Astarion closed his eyes for a moment, his eyelids shuddering at every brush of your fingertips. His fingers dug slightly into your hips when the warmth of your hands left his cheeks to the chill air of the night; when your fingers started wandering on the rest of his face. You traced his eyebrows and then moved your fingertips along his nose and back up, always under Astarion’s scarlet gaze. When you passed them on his forehead, the tension in his face disappeared under your touch. It was almost like a spell, some secret magic that your hands had always possessed but kept hidden from everyone, even from you.

While your fingers moved almost on their own along those features you knew like the back of your hand, you studied those smaller details that you couldn’t make out from a distance. The wrinkles and circles around his eyes, the small imperfections in his otherwise flawless skin.

“See anything you like?”

You smiled, mirroring his grin, as your indexes followed his smile lines until they brushed the corner of his lips. “What’s there not to like.”

“Good answer.” His smirk grew wider as his hand cupped your face. “Please, don’t hold any compliment back.”

Your thumb brushed over his lips, pulling down ever so slightly his bottom lip. “The same goes for you, fangs.”

Astarion cocked his eyebrow. “Fangs, really?”

“It’s cute, don’t you think?” You passed a hand through his hair, noticing the way his lips slightly fell open when you did. “Just like you.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “I would never use that word to describe me, darling. Not in a thousand years.”

His hands left your hips and moved to your face, caressing your cheeks before gliding to the back of your head. Your breath hung in your throat as he stroked your hair; as he pulled your face closer to his until your foreheads touched.

“But I have to admit, it sounds quite nice when you pronounce it.” His whisper hit your skin, warm and intoxicating, setting your face —your entire body— aflame. His fingers traced your mouth, a feather touch that you were not expecting.

“Perhaps,” he breathed again, even closer than before, “your lips could transform any monster in a docile and submissive creature.”

“Is that a request?”

“More a suggestion. For another time, perhaps. ” His fingers moved along your jaws, dreadfully slow. “But I wouldn’t mind a taste.”

His other hand, still wrapped on the back of your hand, pulled you in but your lips didn’t meet. Your fingers, that you had moved on his mouth, were keeping him away. When he moved back, eyes narrowed in confusion, Astarion was met with a mischievous grin.

“You should ask more nicely, fangs.”

His confusion was soon replaced by a pleased glimmer in his eyes. He snorted before cupping your cheek with his hand, his half-lidded gaze on you.

“May I taste your lips, darling?”

The low growl in his voice sent shivers down your spine, stirring your insides like a boiling stew, but you weren’t done. Not yet. You leaned in, stopping inches away from his face as your thumbs kept stroking his cheeks.

“I said nicely, fangs.”

Under your eyes, Astarion swallowed, his tongue darting in between his teeth and licking quickly his lips before he grinned.

“Please?”

“Very good.”

Your whisper brushed against his mouth a second before yours pressed softly on it, in a kiss so different from the rawness you were used to with him. So sweet and calm, even when he kissed you back, slowly opening and closing his lips on yours. He was in no rush as his hands stroked your hair, as they tentatively moved on your shoulders and along your bare arms —sending shivers alone your spine as he did so— until they covered yours. His fingers were almost trembling as they intertwined with yours.

You gently pulled back, gasping for air as you looked him in the eyes. They were still studying you, scarlet pools reading into the darkest depths of your soul and seeing things that they couldn’t understand yet. You weren’t used to that emotional closeness, to someone else being able to see you and wanting to know more.

It was terrifying, no denying that; but also kind of exhilarating.

Astarion smiled, almost as if he had just read your mind —and maybe, he really had. Nudging his nose against your cheek, he squeezed your hands in his.

“I believe you will truly ruin me, my dear.”

“For good or for worse?”

He kissed your lips again, a quick kiss but somehow deeper than before that left your head spinning even when he pulled back and shrugged. “That’s still to be determined.”

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #dnd #astarion ancunin #astarion fic

[perayabubbleheart]

I always wondered why I had an unhealthy relationship with food. I never want to leave anything on my plate, even though I’m no longer hungry, never want to waste or throw away any. When I see someone hungry, it doesn’t matter whether it is a stranger or a friend, I always want to feed them. For the longest time I wondered why I am like this, so one day when I was scolding myself for finishing my plate, this particular memory flashed through my mind.

“Wake up, wake up!” I can hear through the daze as my mom shakes my body trying to wake me up. “We have to go.” she says and pulls the heavy blanket off my body.

Cold washes over me and I immediately get up. The room is dark, the only source of light is the half-burned candle that mama is holding. I find my worn off clothes and follow her out of the room. My little sister is waiting for us in the hallway, her shoes on, my mom blows the candle off and we head outside in complete darkness.

The streetlights are all broken, but the street is very bright thanks to the snow that was pammeling all day yesterday. A pack of stray dogs ran away barking as we passed by them. I shiver and bring my body closer to my mom’s, it’s cold and the icy wind is piercing through my body. The pit of my stomach tightens, I’m hungry but I don’t say anything to my mom, she has enough on her plate. Besides, it will only hurt her because she can’t do anything about it.

We make it to the little, one store building and join the other people who are waiting for their queue. The store hasn’t opened up yet, but tens of people are waiting just to get a slice of bread for their family. Many of them are women with children sleeping on their laps, on the cold ground covered with rubber mat and a blanket on top. There are only a few men, who shuffle uncomfortably from leg to leg, shivering in the cold.

The baker finally opens the window and the light shines through it, along with the delicious smell of freshly baked bread, making my stomach twist. People start murmuring and waking their children, trying to stay on the line. I can hear some of them arguing who came first, but it doesn’t last longer as everyone’s spirits are up. As the baker starts cutting and sharing hot loaves of bread, only several grams per person, per family, an old woman starts yelling. She accuses the baker of purposefully cutting the bread vigorously, so he could collect the large crumbs falling off of it. No one else says anything out of fear, but the old baker explains that he is not keeping the crumbs and it’s due to the bread being hot.

“It breaks my heart seeing my people suffer, fighting over the crumbs. My heart is bleeding for my lovely country, my home covered in blood.” My patriotic mom says under her breath, squeezing my hand harder.

Some time passes and my feet get numb from the cold and staying up for so long. I start complaining, I always did, but my mom tells me we have to wait until it’s our turn to get bread. I keep being cranky and then I look at my sister. She is staying quietly by mom’s side. She never cried, never complained and was always overlooked by my parents, which now makes me very guilty.

Suddenly, a group of armed men appears and everyone quiets down, keeping their eyes on them. A few men that are in the line try to hide behind their families, or other women as they pass by. One of them stopped looking at my mother, his friend looked at him questionably, but stopped with him, as the rest of the group trotted away.

“Where is your husband?” the man’s voice sliced the silence like thunder.

“I don’t know” my mom replies firmly and clearly, with no fear in her voice. But I could feel her hands shaking as she hid us behind her back.

“Don’t lie to me, you know where he is.” he starts cussing at her, using very graphic words as he visibly becomes angrier. “If you don’t tell me, I will fucking blow your brains out.” he says as he grabs her wrist and pulled her close to him. I start crying loudly, my stomach twisting harder, but not out of hunger this time. I’m unable to move, as if my feet were buried into the ground, but my brave little sister starts prying his finger off my mom’s wrist, biting his hand. He pushes her and she falls on the ground, but she just gets up and pats the snow from her clothes, not even one sound coming out of her mouth. I start crying louder and look at people for help, but they all are trying to protect their children and look away, like nothing is happening.

I see my little sister coming close to the man again, but this time my mom holds her little hand and tells her it’s ok, so she just stands by my mom’s side, eyeing the guy.

“Shut the fuck up” the man yells at me, as he pulls his large weapon and point it at my mom. She hugs her swollen belly protectively, as she looks the guy right in his eyes.

“I don’t know where he is, and that’s the truth,” she says, unwavering. “You can kill me, but I wouldn’t know what to tell you.”

“Bitch!” the man exclaimed and started pushing her shoulder and her belly with the muzzle of his weapon.

The crowd starts murmuring, and the guy’s friend catches the muzzle and tells him “That’s enough, let’s go.”

“But she is the wife of “garmi” person.” he tells his friend. (Garm is the former name of the Rasht District in Central Tajikistan. During the civil war, people from Kulyab now known as Khatlon region were killing people from Garm and Badakhshan.)

(Even though both my parents were born and raised in Dushanbe city, they still hunted them.)

“It doesn’t look like she knows anything. We should go.”

But the guy was still hesitant to leave, looking at my mom aggressively. “Can’t you see she is Pamiri too?” (Pamir mountains lie in Badakhshan area of Tajikistan).

“Come on, she is pregnant, don’t you see?” He tries to persuade the guy. “Aren’t you scared of Allah?” He tries to play the religion card, when he sees that the guy is still hesitant.

“Fine, but be careful next time bitch, don’t let me see you.” the guy utters in anger and pushes her to the ground.

I don’t remember anything after that. I remember waking up in my neighbor’s house, confused, as she tried to explain that I blacked out and they brought me there, because my mom and sister still had to wait for their turn to get that half loaf of the freshly baked bread.

The memory flashes through my mind, as I scold myself for finishing everything again. I hug myself and tell the little girl inside me: “It’s ok, you didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t have to finish it, it will still be here when you come back. No one will hurt you again, the food won’t disappear, you don’t have to fight for crumbs anymore.”

Now, almost 30 years later, people are still suffering the consequences of that war.

Beautiful mountains of Tajikistan 🇹🇯

Tajik people are very strong, hard-working people, who have been through so much pain and loss. But they stand strong and proud, loving their motherland no matter what. They are hospitable and respectful towards elders. The land has been drenched in blood of killed sons and tears of grieving mothers, it still cries for the loss of its people. But it still gives them strength to fight, to survive.

Dushanbe during the Civil War, and 30 years later.

#digitallifestory #chapter1

[stringergames]

Strahd: Ok, yes, I may be morally corrupt. But I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it, honestly.

#edge of night #edge of night pod #edge of night incorrect #incorrect quotes #curse of strahd #dnd 5e #strahd von zarovich #countess strahd #source: tumblr #no light queue shine can pierce the dark

[fanfics-with-coffee]

Dabi and Bakugou rarely got along but when they do, it's to double team you. You had been riling them up every time you entered the bar but never let them get any satisfaction, until you agreed on Dabi's dumb challenge. Drink the Blowjob shot the way it's suppose to be had, from between their legs and using no hands.

(This is a re-post from my AO3 work)

Genre: Smut, just smut, Bar!au Characters: Bakugou x reader x Dabi

The neon sign glared down at the people on the street, illuminating everyone in a bright red light. You basked in the light, surrounded by your giggling friends as you made your ways through the crowd of people. This wasn’t your first time in the light and you knew it wouldn’t be your last either. Best bar in the whole district, the whole city even if you asked any lady leaving the place. But you did agree, if you were going to have a drink anywhere then Valor would be it. If you could be so bold then you’d even call yourself a bit of a celebrity at the place. Everyone there knew who you were and knew how you took your drinks. So you often brought your friends along so both brag and give the place some extra income.

After some shuffling of bodies and holding your friends hands you made it to the front of the people, right up to the entrance. You smiled at the bouncer and he smiled right back, showing off his sharp teeth. He was suited up like usual, the suit pants and white button up fitting well around his crossed arms and muscular chest. His bright red hair was spiked as usual and his face was now highlighted red from the neon sign.

“Good evening, ladies! What can I do for ya?” Kirishima asked as if he didn’t know what you wanted, looking behind you to see the awed looks of your friends as they obviously checked out the cutie in front of you. You placed a hand on your hip, pulling the coat you were wearing a little closer to you to keep the cold out.

“Oh you know, just wanted to show my friends this really nice bar i’ve been visiting.” You said with a coy tone, looking around you as if you didn’t know the layout. You made eye contact with the blondie guarding the other door, the black streak in his hair reflecting the red light. He winked at you with a grin before looking over your friends, clearly curious. But he quickly needed to go back to his queue and checking ID’s so the line wouldn’t be held up for too long. Kirishima followed your eyes while nodding, humming in fake curiosity.

“Is that so… Well why don’t you ladies head in then and order something then? Show them why you like it so much, eh?” The redhead looked past you and at your friends, giving them a charming grin and wink before looking at you again. He took a step to the side, making way so your whole group could enter. You gave him a pat on the arm and mouthed a ‘Thank you’ while you walked past him. He just nodded and watched the rest of your friends also walk past him. As you enter the bar you’re met by the warmth first of all. The bodies filling the place was heating up the whole room but you didn’t mind, it was actually very welcoming compared to the cold outside. The second thing that hit you was the music playing through the speakers. While it was soft the music was obviously from the weeks top lists, the beat of the songs being felt through the air. You started peeling your jacket off of you, eyes scanning over the environment. The whole place was dimly lit, the only bright lights shining being the ones under the bar and behind the shelves filled with alcohol. There were the occasional lamp used to set the mood in the place but they were never at full power. The interior was mostly black with details in gold and the dark wood surfaces. Fancy.

You walked confidently to the wardrobe section, smiling at Momo as she took your coat and handed you a number plate that you placed in your handbag. Your friends did the same but you stopped paying too much mind to them, they could handle themselves and you knew the place took care of their customers so you had nothing to worry about. You had something more important in mind. Eyes locking onto the bar you quickly found a spot you could sit down at, miraculously.

You searched the space between the bar and quickly found one out of the two people you were looking for. The tall young man was pouring a beer from the tap while having eye contact with a girl leaning on the counter, smiling at him. He looked mildly amused, raising an eyebrow as she kept talking. He responded to her, his bright red eyes illuminated by the bar lights but you don’t know what he said. You didn’t particularly care either, most of the girls kept repeating the same conversation subjects. He dragged a hand through his blonde hair but it didn’t do much to deter the spikes from forming again while he handed the girl the glass with a smile. You noticed he had shaved the undercut shorter since last time, it looked much neater and clean cut tonight. He was as always dressed in the bartender outfit, the bright red button up and black vest. You could see from your seat that the top buttons of his shirt was unbuttoned, obviously revealing parts of his collarbone and chest. He had yet to notice you but that was about to change.

While you were staring at one of your favorite subjects the other had found you before you had the time to find him.

“Back again, huh, dollface?” The hoarse voice welcomed you back to the bar and you already knew who it was. You smiled and turned your face to notice you were mere inches from the owner of the voice. He was giving you lazy grin, the movement of his mouth extenuating the port wine stain birthmarks around his mouth and going down his neck, the thick tattooed on stitches between his normal skin and the birthmarks still in view. You two stayed like that for a moment, daring each other to move away first. His warm breath hit your lips when he huffed and leaned back, shifting his weight from one leg to another. Placing his hands on the counter he made you feel trapped in his presence. You looked at the tattoos covering his arms, full on sleeves creeping up under his rolled up shirt. Finally you met his eyes again, those bright blue eyes staring down at you. You could see the fading scars on the birthmarks under his eyes, a probably long story you had only heard bits and pieces of. Apparently he had gotten in some trouble and the guys had threatened to cut his eyes out and almost did too. He always jokes about how lucky he is to still have sight or he would never have been able say he’s seen an angel. And if you were the angel then it was no doubt he'd be the devil. With the multiple piercings you've seen glimpses of in the light and the jet black hair playfully sticking up everywhere, you wouldn't be surprised if he revealed himself as an incubi.

“Indeed. I mean, I know I can’t be gone for too long without your ego getting too big, Dabi” You smirked back at his lazy grin, watching his hands move to make you a mojito. He chuckled and looked down to measure the content of your glass, nodding in joking agreement.

“You’re not wrong, the girls around here are easy when you look as good as me, you know? Gets boring after a while. But you… You’re fun Y/N.” He points a black straw at you before putting it in your drink and placing it in front of you. You keep the eye contact going as you pick up your glass and take a sip from it, the refreshing sweetness filling your mouth. The tension was palpable and it had been like this every time you hang out here for a long while now. Everytime you were there you’d tease him and play hard to get, only giving him enough to hold onto the hope that maybe one day you'll be another notch in his belt. Never accepting his dumb bets yet never saying no. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Oi, if you two are finished eye fucking each other then maybe emo boy here can get back to work?” The tension was broken by the voice of dear blondie who had left the conversation with the girl and come to join you and Dabi. Bakugou didn’t look pleased as he glared at the taller man and defensively placed a hand on the counter to the right of you, making Dabi lift his own hand from the spot and releasing you from his almost hypnotic hold.

“It’s called goth, hot shot. And I was working, can't you see I provided angel here with a drink?" he motioned to the drink in your hand which you helpfully raised to show the truth of his statement, smiling sweetly towards Bakugou the whole time just to annoy him. He looked at the drink for a short moment before giving it a look of disgust and making eye contact with you again, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"You should keep yourself to your simple fucking shots, you can at least make those right. Leave the actual drinks to the actual…" Bakugou looked Dabi up and down before staring him in the face. "Bartenders. We don't need to pretend we know what we're doing unlike you extra." The two had started to attract a small crowd, some girls because they thought the two men were attractive and some because they actually wanted to know what was going on. You just sat there calmly, this wasn't their first dispute in front of a crowd nor your first time having a front row seat. Dabi didn't move a visible muscle and instead just stood there with a deadpan glare, watching as Bakugou prepared another mojito. All you could see was his chest rising and falling in an even pace.

When Bakugou finished the drink, with some flare of course, he placed it in front of you. It was neater than your first one, a lime slice delicately placed on the rim of the glass together with a mint leaf as garnish. During the time it took to make the drink Dabi had already sighed and poured himself a shot, downing it when your glass had hit the table. He knew he wasn't supposed to drink on the job but he also knew there wasn't anyone that was gonna stop him. Bakugou ignored him and instead took to watching you, impatiently waiting for you to try his obviously superior drink. And so you did, taking an equally big sip as you took from the first one, you knew how picky he was.

"Well… While I appreciate the thought and concern you have, Bakugou, and it's true that your drink was served better… They taste the same. And I'm pretty sure I'll get just as drunk from either." you place your final verdict, eliciting a laugh from Dabi and a look of something akin to horror from Bakugou. Dabi slung his arm over Bakugou's shoulders, leaning heavily on him as a smug grin crept onto his face.

"What was that now again, hot stuff? Didn't need to pretend huh? Sure, sure… Well if I'm better at shots then I am at drinks then I must be a master at them, so how about we have one?" The tattooed man asked, standing up again and pulling up his shirt sleeves again. As he started on those, pulling out three shot glasses for each and every one of you presumably, you looked towards your favorite blonde who had crossed his arms and was bitterly staring at your two drinks.

"Do you want me to pay for both, or do I get one for free?" You smiled at him, sipping on the drink made by him just to appease him a little. While you didn't have as obvious of a sexual tension with him there had been countless moments where you were sure he'd been so riled up he would've taken you on the bar itself you allowed it. The hot headed man might be smooth in front of the ladies coming and going, it's part of the job, but you liked to get just a little too close. A little too on the edge for him to truly be in his element. And it frustrated him to no end. Yet now he just shook his head in vague defeat.

"No, obviously not, why the fuck would you pay for both? And since we made a crowd take both, just don't you fucking dare tell Iida we're drinking shots while working." he gave you a serious glare while you just laughed and nodded, obviously promising to not rat them out.

In the next moment you had three glasses put before you and Dabi once again joined the conversation. You examined the shots and realize what was going through the blue eyed man's head. The whipped cream at the top was the biggest clue but the shit eating grin he was wearing didn't help his case either. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms, watching Dabi closely, waiting for his excuse this time.

"Well since you're getting drinks on the house then maybe you owe us a little something. You always decline my challenge with a smug fucking smirk on your pretty face but now I find that you have few excuses, princess. C'mon, for poor Bakugou whose ego you crushed." Dabi patted Bakugou's chest while staring at you, ignoring Bakugou's futile protests. You watched them, glanced at the shots and then looked back up to them.

The light shone from behind them, illuminating them and reflecting off the glasses you were drinking from. Both their shirts had unbuttoned buttons and you had a clear view of parts of their chest, further enticing you to accept Dabi's challenge and maybe show them who's got who wrapped around their finger. You soak in the view for a second before unraveling your arms.

"Well you still haven't issued the challenge, Dabi, or what's in it for me if I win."

"Or lose, Angel. I want you to drink the blowjob shots the way they're supposed to be taken. From between our legs without using your hands. If you don't spill anything then I'll pay for your drinks for the rest of the evening. If you do spill… Well I'm sure we can agree to a fitting punishment when we get there. And you can't spill anything from either of them, deal?" This wasn't the first time Dabi had challenged you, nor were you the first person he'd used this tactic on. You'd usually hear Bakugou complaining that he'd found the two making out in the backroom afterwards, even if the other participant had won. But this time he involved someone else too and well, the look you're imagining Bakugou having during it might just be worth it.

"Pay for my friends drinks too and we have a deal." you informed him on your condition as you stood up, knowing that you'd have to move to find a better fitting spot to do this, away from too many peering eyes. Dabi didn't respond and instead just grinned and grabbed two of the shots, following you out from behind the bar. Bakugou took a second to debate if this was a good idea or not but watching you walk away, your hips swaying enticingly managed to convince him. "Fuck it…"

You knew exactly where you all could get out of the spotlight and moved over to a corner with a booth. You sat down on the end of one of the couches, watching the two men arrive after you. Bakugou had grabbed the last shot and was cautiously looking around for anyone watching you, or a co-worker noticing their absence. Dabi on the other hand had his eyes on you, placing one of the shots he was holding besides you on the table, towering over you. You just looked up at him and smiled. He grinned back before grabbing a random chair from one of the other tables, dragging it so it faced you.

Dabi didn’t hesitate to sit down, spreading his legs apart so you could see the pants straining against his crotch. With one hand he placed the cream topped glass between his legs on the seat, the other arm he leaned the elbow on the back of the chair. His muscles were tensing up under the red shirt as to keep the position and you could just imagine what was hiding underneath. He cocked his head to the side and gave you a shit eating grin, lifting an expectant eyebrow at you.

“Well, dollface?” You made eye contact with him and an involuntary shiver went down your spine going straight to between your legs. You didn’t expect it to affect you this much this quickly. Free drinks sounded really good at the time but now you’re not even sure you’ll be able to stay long enough to enjoy them. Yet you couldn’t give up before you’d even started.

You didn’t dare respond to him and instead hid the rush of blood to your face with a smug smile, straightening your back. You dragged your hand through your hair to pull it back before you bent down, keeping eye contact with those blue eyes. If he was going to try and mess you up then you could at least try and do the same. He had moved his hand from the glass and had instead placed it on his thigh besides your head. You opened your mouth and glanced at the glass to make sure you got it. Before you took it into your mouth you made sure to lick the cream off the top, looking up at him through your lashes.

That got a reaction out of him. The grin he was so proudly wearing dropped and instead he stared down at you with his mouth slightly agape. It looked like he was already breathing heavy and you could see him clench his hand in the corner of your eye. Proud of your work you grabbed the shot glass with your mouth and threw your head back, downing the shot in one go. You gracefully grabbed the now empty glass and then slammed it on the table. You removed some of the cream that had gotten on the corner of your mouth with the knuckle of your finger.

“Next.” You said, confidence dripping from your voice. If the music wasn’t blaring through the speakers then you swear you could’ve heard Bakugou swallow nervously. Dabi just chuckled and stood up but before he had fully turned around you could see the outline of something in his pants, pushing against the fabric. You ego only grew at the sight.

“Your turn, hot stuff.” Dabi patted Bakugou's shoulder, pulling him from his hypnotised staring at your lips. He quickly realized what he had been doing and looked away, not ready to admit to his actions. Despite that he still walked over and sat on the chair.

He mimicked Dabi and spread his legs as well, his pants also straining on his crotch. Even in the dim light you could see that something was pushing against the fabric in his pants as well. Your gaze fell to it and your mind was about to start wandering if Bakugou's hand hadn’t gotten in the way when he placed the shot. Unlike Dabi, Bakugou wasn’t as confident and had a difficult time knowing where to place his hands, deciding in the end to just cross his arms. The action just made the muscles on his arms even more visible. He didn’t dare make any eye contact Once again you could feel your body react, your breathing slowing and becoming heavier but you were hoping they didn’t notice. But with your luck, Dabi must’ve. But you didn’t let him say anything as you just smiled again and leaned down. Bakugou was still not looking though and you just couldn’t have that. So you took your hands and placed them on his inner thighs, grabbing onto the surprisingly muscular meat.

You felt him jump slightly and snap his head to look at you. You just looked back up and smiled, giving him a wink. Bakugou would argue that it was just the red lights but you knew he was blushing mad. You decided to cut his suffering short, afraid that if you turned him on any more it’d start to be painful in those tight pants of his. So you opened your mouth, ignoring the obvious hard on right in front of your face and took the glass into your mouth. But as you pulled back up you heard Bakugou mutter something under his breath.

“Fuck, babygirl…”

His voice had been strained and quiet but you caught it in the middle of all the noise surrounding you despite him trying to cover his mouth with his clenched hand. And you lost it. You choked on the shot and had to grab the glass from mouth before your could down the whole thing. You coughed and placed a hand on your chest, trying to regain your breath. You placed the half empty glass on the table beside the other two. Bakugou shot out of his chair to make sure you were alright but didn’t quite know what to do.

“Shit…” You mumbled, realizing what had just happened. You lost. You looked up at Bakugou who was still worried about you choking while Dabi was closing in from the side. His grin was already giving away what he was thinking.

“Well well well, angel. You talked so big yet couldn’t take a little dirty talking. Cute. But what should we do with you now? Bakugou?” Dabi had snaked an arm around Bakugous shoulders once again, caging you in between the two men. Bakugou just looked at him confused and disturbed before it clicked in his head what he was talking about. He just grunted and looked back down at you, something had shifted in his eyes and they weren’t as innocent as they had been before.

“Let’s get out of here.”

You weren’t prepared for the tone of voice from the blonde. Your heart began beating quicker as you started to form an understanding of what you had gotten yourself into. Dabi just grinned and took a step back, motioning for us to “go ahead”. You looked to the table and saw the last shot and decided to down it too before standing up. Bakugou didn’t take a step back though and you hit his chest with your own, looking up at him surprised. You felt his hot breath against your face and his stare made you weak in the knees. His hands grabbed your waist and without a second thought he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulders.

You yelped at the sudden motion and saw the whole world start to move as Bakugou turned to head out the backdoor. Dabi soon joined your view, casually strolling behind you two, chuckling at the sight.

“Your place is close to here, right?” Bakugou asked, glancing back at the taller male who just nodded.

“Yup, third floor in the building just across from here.” Dabi took the lead and Bakugou followed. You just clinged to the back of Bakugou's vest, trying to see what was happening in the front and hoping not too many people saw you in such an embarrassing situation. But you couldn’t help but feel that maybe it didn’t matter, maybe what was about to happen was worth the embarrassment.

“I swear to god if the apartment is filthy or you haven’t changed the bed sheets since your last fuck buddy I’m taking her and leaving.” You watched the stairs as Bakugou went up them, still carrying you. One hand firmly planted on your ass, either to keep your dress from riding up or just because he wanted to cop a feel. As he finished his sentence you two stopped and you could hear a key turning in a lock and a door opening just after.

You weren’t put down until the door had once again been closed and you were all in Dabi’s apartment. And even then you didn’t have a moment to take in your surroundings as Bakugou blocked your view, grabbing your chin gently. You looked up into his eyes once again, meeting his deep red ones with your wide ones.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since you opened those pretty lips of yours.” He muttered, eyes glancing down at your lips and then up again. Wasting no more time he pressed his to yours and you almost couldn’t believe it. He was pressing firmly, almost as he was afraid it was a dream he’d wake from, tilting his head to the side as his hands found your neck. You closed your eyes, enjoying the moment and moving your hands over the shaved part of his head. That’s when a third pair of hands joined in.

“Don’t forget that this is a punishment, angel, not a prize.” Dabi whispered in your ear, his hands going down your front, finding the hem of your dress and pulling it up, exposing your panties. You gasped at the sudden movement only to have Bakugou use it to his advantage, slipping his tongue into your mouth and brushing it against your own. Your sounds were muffled as Dabi used one hand to cup your boob, the other sneaking down to feel you through your underwear. You knew he could feel your wetness through the fabric.

“Shit, so cute, you’re already wet… At this rate you’ll have to problem taking both of us.” You heard him muse as he looked at you from over your shoulder. You couldn’t respond thanks to Bakugou's invasion of your mouth and only whimpered. Dabi chuckled at your predicament and instead of trying to help you just made it worse by slipping his hands underneath the hem of your panties instead. Sliding two fingers between your nether lips he found the bundle of nerves placed between them. He didn’t even hesitate to start drawing slow circles around your clit.

You had to pull away from bakugou, putting your hands on his chest to keep him from going back for round two too quickly. You were panting and letting out small whimpers, unable to look at his face. He stared at you confused before realizing what the other man was doing and how it was affecting you. The two made eye contact with you in between them, Dabi never relenting on his assault on your bud.

“Oi, don’t you have a better place to do this then your hallway?” You heard Bakugou speak above you. His hands moved to your waist and then your back, pulling you closer to him defensively.

“You’re the one who couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to move to the bedroom so don’t blame me, hot shot” Dabi finally pulled his hands out of your underwear and you took a deep breath of relief from the constant stimulus. You legs were quivering from the assault on your senses and the sudden lack of it. But before you could truly calm down you were pulled from Bakugou's warm embrace and into Dabi’s arms instead as he started to lead you away. You could hear Bakugou’s hurried steps behind and the rustling of clothes.

You moved through the small apartment and to a bedroom. The double bed was made and you were about to go sit down, give yourself a break. But as soon as you moved towards it a hand grabbed your arm, looking back at the owner of the hand you saw Dabi shaking his head.

“Remember what I said before? Punishment, not reward, babygirl.” You felt your stomach sink but ironically also fill with butterflies.

“Help her out of that dress and underwear, will ya, hot stuff?” You were handed over to Bakugou who looked about as confused as you. Dabi went and opened a cupboard and you heard the clinking of metal from it as he searched it’s content. He hummed in satisfaction as he placed a bottle on top of the cupboard and then something that glimmered in the light coming from the window. At the same time Bakugou had done as he was told, pulling the dress higher and higher and with your help it had slipped right off. The bra was quickly unclasped and thrown to the side as well just like the panties had been. You could feel his red eyes look you up and down, watching the newly exposed skin as if it were gold.

“Here we go… Hands in front, dollface.” Dabi sauntered back to you two and without thinking you obeyed, holding out your hands in front of you. He grabbed your wrists and soon the sound of something clicking shut filled the room. You looked at your wrists and saw handcuffs now hanging from them. The black fur was kind to your skin though and they weren’t too tight so you couldn’t complain. But you still stared in awe at them, as did Bakugou.

“Ain’t too tight? No? Good. Then get on your knees.” A simple hand on your shoulder had you falling to your knees without second thoughts. You began to wonder what these men had done to you.

As you were down there you watched Dabi unzip the black pants which had been getting tighter and tighter the further the three of you had gone. He dropped them to the ground and you watched as if hypnotised by the tent formed in his underwear. You could hear him chuckle above you, amused at your wide eyes stare. He did quick work of his underwear as well, fishing himself out of them with practiced skill. He was semi hard already, a tuft of hair at the base of his slim cock. He lazily started to work himself to full mast while watching you.

“Liking what you see, I take it. Good. I can see your mouth salivating already, why don’t you taste it?” You looked up at him for a split second before looking at his cock again which he’s let go already. You almost timidly pull on it, opening your mouth to take him in. You swirl your tongue over the tip before taking more and more into your mouth. You close your eyes to focus, letting him slip further down your throat. A hand carefully grabs the back of your head and grabs a handful of your hair. He’s impatient, probably from the build up at the bar and start to set a slow pace which you follow. You feel the tip of his dick drag across your tongue and the back again as the pace speeds up. Soon he’s set a reasonable pace and you open your eyes again to look up at him.

He’s panting and watching you closely, his eyes half lidded by now aroused he is. The sight makes you even hornier and you feel that you need some release yourself and move your hands down to your own crotch. But nothing slips past Dabi's watchful eyes and he speaks up before you can do anything about your own arousal.

“Hey, we didn’t tell you you could touch yourself. Why don’t you do something productive and jack Bakugou off instead? He’s been drooling all over you since you started bobbing your head like a good girl.” You looked to the side and saw Bakugou, he had pulled down his pants and underwear without you even noticing, even his vest was gone and shirt unbuttoned as he worked his own manhood. You two made eye contact and you reached out with your handcuffed hands. The blonde sucked in breath from between clenched teeth and took a step closer, letting you take over for him.

The three of you kept this up for a bit, you bobbing your head on Dabi's dick while he controlled your pace with his hands while your own hands were jacking off a panting and cursing Bakugou. You had lost track of time until Dabi pulled out of your mouth, your spit covering his shaft and your own chin. The lack of fullness had you desperately looking up at Dabi who was visibly trying to restrain himself. At the same time you slowed your hands movements, bewildered by the sudden pull out.

“Shit, don’t look at me like that, dollface, or I might just finish in your mou-” He was cut off by Bakugou grabbing your head and pulling you to him instead, taking full advantage of your open and confused mouth. He was much rougher than Dabi, instead of pacing you he was face fucking you, keeping your head still as he pounded your throat. But the moment only lasted so long as even Bakugou had to pull out as to not cum down your throat and cut his playtime short. You sputtered and coughed after the sudden invasion but was ultimately sad he had stopped.

“Sorry, babygirl but I had to know how your mouth felt wrapped around my cock.. It just looked so inviting and I couldn’t stand you looking at juts him like that.” Bakugou confessed, looking down at you, panting after the sudden burst of energy.

“I was wondering when that explosive personality was gonna play part in this. But enough foreplay, get her on her feet..” Bakugou helped you up, holding onto you so you wouldn’t fall. He pulled you up to his chest and slipped a hand between your legs. Now it was his turn with you and his fingers were much thicker than Dabi’s had been. He didn’t dwell too long on your clit, only playing with it a second before traveling deeper. By now your juices had stained your thighs and he had no problem slipping two fingers into you. Despite the roughing up he had done to your face before he was now slow and calculated in fingering you, pushing in and pulling out in deliberate movements. You were desperately needing something more and ground your hips into his hand. He paid you no mind as his mouth latched onto your neck, sucking on it so he knew it would leave marks. There was nothing you could do but moan and sigh, letting your head fall back on his shoulder.

You two were soon pulled out of your little bubble by the sound of chains falling. You opened your eyes and saw Dabi pulling on a chain from his ceiling. He noticed your staring and just smiled lazily, giving you a come hither motion with his hand. You could feel Bakugous hesitation but you were soon let go, his fingers slipping out of you. You stumbled forward to follow Dabi’s instructions. When you got close enough he pulled you to him by your handcuffs and raised them. Another click and your handcuffs were stuck to the chain, your arms raised above your head. Dabi took a step back and examined you, seemingly proud of his work.

“There we go, angel… Now the fun can really begin.” He stepped in close again and kissed your lips briefly. Then he left you standing there in the otherwise cold room. He went back to the cupboard and grabbed the bottle he placed there before. While he was gone Bakugou had once again snuck back to you, figuring out just what he had planned. He stood in front of you without saying a word, just watching your chest heave. Then he bent down and grabbed the back of your thigh. And then the other. Standing back up he pulled you with, lifting you up into the air and keeping you there, spread legs presenting everything to him. He looked down and then back up, grinning and leaning in close to you.

“Pretty little thing, aren’t you, babygirl? I’m gonna pound into you until you can’t think of anything but my cock in your pussy. How many times I’ve imagined pushing your face down on the counter at the bar and taking you right then and there, letting everyone see what a good fucking looks like. And I bet you would’ve taken it, wouldn’t you? Like a good girl you would’ve begged me to make you cum. Let’s see if you beg like my mind thinks you do.”

You were speechless. The words coming from Bakugou were something you wouldn’t have expected yet he was growling them to you as if he’d practiced it before hand. You swear you would’ve come right then and there if you didn’t know you’d be punished for it. He didn’t make it any easier when he pushed his thick dick inside of you, slowly but surely pushing himself to the hilt.

You were pulling yourself up on the chain involuntarily from the pleasure entering your system. Arching your back you felt your back hit something warm. Another hand joined on your body, one holding onto the underside of your thigh. Then something cold hit the small of your back and running down your ass making you gasp and clench on Bakugou’s cock.

“I see you two started the fun without me… That isn’t fair but I guess it wasn’t your fault, was it (Y/N)?” Dabi’s voice was behind you and you tried to look at him but your arm was blocking you from turning your head. His other hand suddenly appeared, clearly lubed up and pushing at your other hole. You naturally clenched up more and hear Bakugou curse in front of you.

“Shh no no babygirl, relax… You trust us right? We’ll make it feel good, I promise you’ll be cumming and screaming our names in minutes if you just… relax..” Dabi’s soothing voice calms you down and with some effort you managed to calm your muscles enough to let Dabi’s fingers enter. He praised you as he starts to pump one finger in and out of your whole, then two. It’s clear he’s done this before and knows exactly how to work your buttons. Bakugou wasn’t patient enough to wait for that long and was slowly pulling in and out of you himself, one hand having moved to have his thumb rub circles on your clit. Not enough to make you cum but enough to make you relax more.

Soon enough Dabi was able to scissor his fingers in your ass without you wincing in pain. He pulled out and used his now free hand to help hold you up after having lubed up his own dick. He started to push slowly, the head of his cock slipping into you and you gasp and arch your back again. He stops for a second, looking to make sure you’re still alright before he starts pushing again. Soon he’s pushed himself to the hilt together with Bakugou filling up your pussy. You’ve never felt this full and it did feel amazing, both men pushing at your most sensitive spots.

“See? I told you. Now let’s show you what it means to take two men at the same time, dollface. You’re gonna love it.” He whispered the last part in your ear and your eyes widened as they started to move. What started out in synchronised thrusts soon derailed as they picked up pace. Both of them pushing in and pulling out of you at whatever pace worked for them. Bakugou made sure his thrusts were deep and made you feel full as he sheathed inside you while Dabi was much more erratic and quick, stimulating and pounding the sweet spots of your inside. And their moaning, sighing and groaning was mixed together with your own noises as you all chased your releases. And they came quick

“D-dabi… Bakugou…. I’m about… to.. to cum... “ You managed to get out between moans and you hoped the two men heard you. Luckily they did as they both slowed down much to your own dismay.

“Is that so, angel? You’re gonna cum on our cocks as we pound into you, huh?” Dabi asked teasingly from behind you but Bakugou had other plans.

“Beg for it, babygirl. Beg. for. it.” Every word was emphasised with a thrust of his hips and you whimpered. You couldn’t help but hesitate as you looked into his eyes and saw that he was completely serious, his eyes glazed over and primal. But your need for release was greater and won over your own embarrassment rather quickly.

“Please… Please let me cum. I need to cum, I’ve been needing it since t-the beginning. Since I sucked your big cock, I’ve never been so horny. Fuck, please? Please pound i-into me until I can’t think of anything else, I wan’t you two to fill me and fuck me and and fuck shit, please.” You rambled on and on, trying to convince the two men to let you cum while your head felt fuzzy and you couldn’t think straight. You could see Bakugou’s grin grow on his face and he sped up his pace.

“Good fucking girl, begging like that…. shit… Alright, we’re counting down from 10. You can’t cum… until we reach 0.” You felt them both ready themselves to destroy you in those last 10 seconds and yet you didn’t care, nodding your head desperately.

“Good. 10”

They started, with a newly regained energy they went back to their quickest pace, no mercy this time. But you didn’t mind, you head went all fuzzy again and you got a far away look in your eyes.

“9”

“8”

“7”

“6”

“5”

One of Dabi's hands moved from your thigh and started to rub your clit again. You felt his grin against your shoulder and you cried out.

“Little more, babygirl. 4”

You felt the orgasm approach you like an oncoming train.

“3”

It wasn’t fair, none of this, you realized. But why did it turn you on so fucking much?

“2”

“1”

“Come on, (Y/N), cum.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement then that as you let the tidal wave hit you. It washed over you and made you spazz out, closing your eyes tightly as the two men didn’t stop. They became even more erratic in their movement and even quicker to pound in and out of you. As the white light flashed before your eyes you felt them cum too, filling you up yet they still moved. They both went quiet, trying to keep themselves from buckling under their own orgasms. Dabi’s fingers never stopped rubbing your clit.

Your orgasm had come and gone yet they didn't’t. Fucking. Stop. You were desperately whimpering and trying to pull away from the two but there was no way you could from your position. So you took it. Dabi’s fingers were rubbing your over sensitive clit and the two were like wild animals in heat as they kept fucking you. You didn’t know how but you didn’t care either, another orgasm was on its way way quicker than you had anticipated.

It hit you again and tears spotted your eyes, the electricity going through your body and making you shake once again. Only then did the two seem satisfied, slowing themselves down to a halt yet not pulling out. There’s was a moment of just silence apart from all of you panting and catching your breath from the whole ordeal. Then you started laughing

It was quiet but you laughed, exhausted. Soon the two joined in with their own quiet chuckled.

“Shit… That was really fucking good. Didn’t expect to have this good of a fucking time with this loser” Bakugou looked around you to give Dabi a look before looking back to you. He paused for a moment before he leaned up again, giving you a gentle kiss. You felt Dabi take his turn to leave a hickey on your neck as you kissed Bakugou but you couldn’t care less at that moment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, hot stuff. Thought you knew I was the best fuck in this whole damn place. Apart from angel here, of course” Dabi responded after he let go of your neck, happy with his work.

“So… Whose up for another shot?”

#smut #bnha smut #bakugou katsuki #dabi #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero #fanfiction #scenario #bnha scenarios #league of villains #bakugou #bakugou x reader #dabi x reader #bakugou x you #dabi x you #imagine #bnha x reader #lov #dabi smut #dabi lemon #bakugou smut #bakugou lemon #dabi imagine #bakugou imagine #bnha imagine #bnha fanfiction #bnha scenario #bnha dabi #bnha bakugou

[anoutlandishfanfic]

The Alaskan Endeavor: Ch2 - Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

So, again, this chapter update (can I call them PUPdates? they’re now PUPDATES) is in celebration of another race that finished up yesterday morning -- the Kuskokwim 300 aka The Kusko300, which is one of if not THE most competitive middle distance race in Western Alaska. We’ll get to the pups and more about racing in the next chapter but HERE WE HAVE THE MEETING Y’ALL HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR.

You can find chapter one here or over at AO3!!

Claire That evening

The Murray’s residence wasn’t far from my flat above the Abernathy’s garage — nothing in this tiny hamlet was — and I decided to walk the four blocks, taking in a remarkable summer’s evening.

Joe had warned me that the shift in daylight hours was more extreme here in Kozebue — twenty-six miles above the Arctic Circle — than where we’d reconnected on Kodiak Island… and I had to admit he was right. I’d made good use of the black out curtains that were installed in the bedroom, shutting out the sun that insisted on shining well into the night and starting up again ungodly early in the morning. I knew I’d have no trouble making my way back on foot after dinner.

It would still be broad daylight.

I rounded the final corner and scanned the lane for my destination…

“It’s a blue house with white trim… second on the left,” Joe’s wife Gail had easily informed me, for the Abernathy’s and the Murray’s were old friends.

Gail’s eyes had held the same suspicious twinkle that Jenny’s had when she’d invited me for dinner and I had a sinking suspicion that I was about to be set up on a blind date, hosted by Jenny Murray herself. My new patient had mentioned she had a brother when she was in earlier and if I were the betting sort, I’d place my life savings on him being the man in question.

How on earth did you let yourself get roped into this, Beauchamp? I sighed ruefully to myself as I spotted the abode.

Crossing the street, I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady my pounding heart as I got closer to the Murray’s front door. It was no use, of course, for it had firmly lodged itself in my throat about a block and a half back, and I was left trembling slightly as I mounted the front steps.

Wiping sweaty palms on my pants, I lifted my hand and knocked. Once — twice — three times.

… Jamie

“Can you get that?” Jenny shouted from the kitchen, the usual clamor of my nieces and nephew interfering but not obscuring her words.

Passing the youngest back to her father, I stood and answered, “Aye, I’ve got it!”

I wiped at the deposit of crumbs that wee Katie had left behind on my shirtfront, tugging at the hem in an attempt to flatten out the wrinkles pressed into it by the same. I shook my head and gave it up, knowing it was useless and that it shouldn’t really matter anyway.

Rolling my eyes at the ridiculous concern for my own appearance, I turned into the front hall and padded quickly down the plush rug to the door.

I turned the knob and pulled — then stopped dead as the door opened.

Christ, she was beautiful.

Her pale cheeks were slightly flushed, which made the small smattering of freckles across her nose stand out like brilliant stars. The curls were coming out of a plait that was draped over one shoulder and it gave her a delightfully adventurous air. She was a brunette like Jenny, but not nearly quite so dark. The light streaming in from behind her set brilliant copper highlights aglow as she flipped the thick queue away, making it disappear behind her.

One perfectly arched brow rose in question of me — and I knew I was staring — but the ability to form coherent speech left me entirely as her eyes locked on to mine.

Brown would be a woefully inaccurate word to describe such a hue as hers. They were rich like a fine whisky, a deep amber that all at once soothed and pierced your soul.

Pull yerself together, you clotheid.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure and took a step back, sweeping a hand to usher her in.

“You, ah, must be Dr Claire,” I stammered, my lips still not completely able to do my bidding. “I’m Jamie, Jenny’s brother.”

Comprehension lit her eyes and she chuckled softly.

God, that sound.

It sent shockwaves up and down my spine and stood the hair on the back of my neck on end.

What I wouldn’t do to make her laugh like that again.

“Tell me, Jamie,” she kept her voice low, a conspiratorial gleam sneaking into her eyes. “Have Jenny and Gail been playing matchmaker with us?”

Raking a hand through my hair, I confessed dryly, “They’ve been trying to set me up for years.”

She tipped her head back and laughed outright and freely at my confirmation, commenting, “I thought so, but then I’d only met your sister this morning.”

“I’ve known her my whole life,” I grinned back at her. “Once Jen gets an idea in her head, it’s best to let her have at it ‘til it peters out on its own... unless it involves that wee fiend of hers.”

Delicate, slender fingers lifted to her lips as the color deepened in her cheeks, amusement still high in her voice, “Are you talking about Roger?”

“Right! Yes!” It was my turn to laugh. “You’ve met the numpty yourself.”

She grinned, “I’ve had the pleasure, yes.”

“Did she tell you he’s a service dog drop out?” I shook my head in mock derision.

Her eyes grew as big as saucers, nearly dropping the bag in her hand as she burst, “No!!”

“Oh, aye!” I scoffed, but my smile crept back in and betrayed my amusement at the whole ordeal.

“Too friendly… and easily distracted.”

“Are you two done bletherin’ out here?” My brother in law Ian stuck his head into the hallway, succinctly interrupting us with a knowing look.

“The food’s gettin’ cold!”

… Claire

Tucked between Jamie and his seven year old namesake, dinner was far from a dull affair. Jenny proved to be a remarkable cook and the table conversation ranged in topics from a nuanced detail of racing — that is, mushing — to my favorite animal.

“Do you mean in general,” I tested the waters, assembling another forkful of roast and potatoes, “or in a specific class or order?”

The little boy’s eyes lit up and I knew I’d found a topic that he particularly enjoyed… which was a stroke of luck for me, being that animals and their care was my field of expertise.

Thank God it wasn’t dinosaurs.

“Mammals!” He eagerly narrowed the field, then zeroed in even further, “What’s your favorite African mammal?!”

“Oh, that’s easy! A giraffe!” I supplied, my smile matching his. “I got to see them in the wild, you know… in Tanzania.”

This caught the attention of the rest of the table and began to field questions left and right about my time on the Serengeti. I didn't mind, as they were happy memories, and soon won over both the younger Jamie and his five year old sister Maggie with tales of elephants and zebras and all of the animals they’d only read about in books or seen on television.

“Did you see any lions?” Little Maggie’s voice dropped into what I supposed was her version of a whisper — as if one were right beside us — and she nearly vibrated with excitement as she asked again, “Did you see any lions, Dr Claire?!”

I heard Jamie, the elder and my supposed date for the evening, chuckle beside me and I wondered just what sort of mischief this little one could get into when she set her mind to it.

“I did see lions too, Maggie,” I assured her, taking on her affected stage whisper. “We went in a truck at night and had big flashlights and saw them getting a drink of water.”

“Dey sirsty,” two year old Katie informed the table proudly, making all of the adults grin.

I bit my lip to keep from chuckling at her innocent attempt at being involved in the conversation, but agreed, “They get very thirsty.”

“How’d ye wind up in Alaska, then?”

This turn in conversation came from Jamie’s father, an older man by the name of Brian.

“I went to university with Joe Abernathy in Seattle,” I supplied. “We went separate ways after graduation but I ran into him again when I was visiting my uncle on Kodiak Island… Joe offered me a position at his clinic and I couldn’t refuse.”

“He’s done a lot of good wi’ that practice of his,” Brian commented. “Been a dream of his for some time now.”

Nodding, I smiled at the memory of Joe’s eager rants and rails, “He spoke quite a bit about it in school. I knew how much it meant to him and was eager to help him in his cause.”

“He almost worked himself to death before you came along,” Jenny snorted, then shot me an apologetic look. “Bein’ the only vet in the Northwest Borough made for long hours an’ no rest.”

“That’s why I wanted to come… to ease the burden a bit.”

“Well, then you’re a saint, Dr Claire,” she sighed, surmising with a shake of her head.

“No,” I assured her quietly. “I’m just plain old Claire Beauchamp.”

… Jamie. After Dinner.

“Wait just a minute,” I protested. “You walked here?!”

We were at the front door again, this time in full control of my faculties, but the woman before me was quickly turning out to be more of an complexity than I ever imagined possible.

Her brow furrowed at this, as if she hadn’t thought of the incongruity of her walking the mile from the Abernathy’s to here on foot.

“Yes… why?”

“Well, it’s… it’s just that…'' I stammered, flummoxed. “Don’t you have somethin’ to drive?”

“Of course,” she looked at me as if I’d sprouted five heads from my shoulders. “I have a perfectly good vehicle, but why drive it four blocks when it’s beautiful outside and I can walk?”

I opened my mouth to respond to this and found I didn’t have a reasonable answer. She found great amusement in this and crossed her arms, waiting for me to respond.

Shaking my head, I gave it up and couldn’t help but smile as I offered to walk her home.

This took her by complete surprise and her jaw dropped, “Why?!”

“Well,” I pulled at the back of my neck, trying to come up with something and shrugged helplessly, “like you said… it’s a beautiful evening.”

Her brows nearly rose to her hairline, not buying this for one moment.

“Look, it’s the polite thing to do, aye? I know you live at the Abernathy’s because Joe told me… I’ll leave just as soon as you’ve made it to the front door, I promise,” I insisted. “Nothin more.”

She contemplated this, then clarified, “Just a walk?”

I dropped my hands, swinging my hands away from my sides in a clearing motion and then against them again with a soft pat.

“Just a walk.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #the alaskan endeavor #the alaskan endeavor au #chapter 2 guess who's coming to dinner

[the-coffee-story]

Rise of the Forest God

Chapter 4 - Finding the Head

When the team arrived in Forest Lane, it was unbearably foggy. Dark, ragged clouds draped themselves across the black sky like the wings of a massive crow.

"Wow, I haven't been here in a solid three or four years," Walther said, looking around absentmindedly as they hopped out of the Bentley. The silvery moonlight gave the still quite new scars on their face a sharp contrast, and Walther the appearance of grinning from ear to ear. "Still looks the same."

"Can't judge," October commented cheerily, waving his white cane around. The others just sighed collectively.

"So where's the murder scene?", Coffee signed. He was shivering. The phone call had caught him and Violet by surprise while they'd been busy moving her stuff into his apartment. The result was him not being able to grab something warmer than the beige crop top he was wearing.

"Didn't that guy who made the call plan to wait for us here?", Violet asked.

As if on queue, she spotted a small figure on the other side of the field, barely visible in front of the black trees. He waved through the thick blanket of fog and quicky jogged over.

"There he is," Doc remarked and ran a bandaged hand through his greying hair. He was still in the tedious process of recovering after getting it impaled in February. Ah, the joys of being private investigators.

The young man came down the sandy dirt path. From up closer Violet could see the cloud of fluffy, gingery blonde hair that reminded her of a gentle sunrise, as well as a narrow, oddly foxy face. There was a strong scent of shampoo that had bound itself to the man. His pale, emerald eyes were accentuated with smudged black eyeliner. When he smiled politely the piercing in his lower lip glimmered.

"Finbar Ginster." He had an Irish accent. He enthusiastically shook everyone's hand, finishing with Thasfield. "Welcome to Forest Lane. I like your tie. The crime scene is right down this path, follow me."

"You're surprisingly calm," Doc remarked, cocking a brow.

The young man turned to him and his cool green eyes almost shone in the moonlight. He cracked his shoulders. "I had a summer job at a morgue last year. Wasn't fun, but at least I'm not scared of blood anymore. Watch your step, I couldn't find the head."

Everyone exchanged a collective nervous glance.

"How long were you on the crime scene, and how much did you walk around?", Walther questioned.

He groaned, looking to the sky and and cracking his knuckles absentmindedly. "A lot, unfortunately. I panicked a little and thought it was a prank. Regrettably I was wrong."

Violet sighed. "Bonus work. Yay."

"Sorry."

The moon crawled out from behind a wall of clouds and illuminated Finbar's freckled face. Violet suddenly realized his relaxed attitude was just an act. Beads of sweat glinted on his forehead and his glance nervously wandered around like a fox caught in a trap when the hunter is approaching. When he adjusted the collar of his black turtleneck she could see his hands were slightly shaky, and the artery on his pale neck was pulsing furiously.

The group arrived at the edge of the forest and spotted a clearing where a bunch of policemen were already rolling out barrier tape.

Violet peeked through the trees and her stomach turned. "Oh God."

There was blood splattered everywhere. It was like a horror movie. The decapitated body lying in a puddle of it's own blood, stuck to the dry, dead grass, deep gashes covering it's blotchy skin, and it's yellowing intestines slowly oozing out of the torn flesh.

"Oh God," Walther muttered.

"What's it look like?", October asked.

While Walther described the crime scene Violet and Coffee walked around in search of the head.

"Headless horseman leveled up?", Violet joked nervously.

Coffee laughed and signed an answer. "Ichabod Crane who?"

Violet spotted something fuzzy at the root of a tree and furrowed her brows. "Hey, I think I found it. Cof, can you turn it around? I can't bend over, cons of being pregnant..."

He nodded, skipped to her side and got down on his knees while Violet searched her pockets for a flashlight. She found her phone, turned the light on and shined it down.

Short light brown hair. It looked oddly familiar. Coffee made a face, picked the head up and carefully turned it around.

And then they both started screaming.

The victim was none other than Marty McCormick.

#the coffee story #rise of the forest god #reviews are welcome ;) #remember to listen to the song

[wienerbarnes]

Left for Dead (1/2)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,803

Warnings: mentions to bombs and mission stuff, mentions to past torture

A/N: a lil two parter! I'm def a shorter writer so I split up reader’s first mission as opposed to posting like a 5k one shot (unless y'all dig that better for the future???) I’m gonna queue the second part to post on Friday idk what time but otherwise we all know id forget... so. enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

It was finally time for your first mission. The night before, F.R.I.D.A.Y. prompted you with the fact that there would be a briefing this morning at 8 A.M. You’d figured the superheroes weren’t the type to sleep in.

As much as you’d been enjoying the return of your clothes, you figured it’d be safest to keep the black-on-black outfit for these briefings and anything else you’d be involved in. Attention is not necessarily something you’d want to draw on yourself right now.

You finally find the room you’re supposed to be in and find about eighty other agents. A wave of anxiety rushes through you and you feel your stomach churn. You want to look around and find someone you recognize but Sam is the only one you see; you don’t know anybody. You’re scared to talk to new people, to have small talk, you’re scared of what they’ll say to you, if they’ll remember your face from the news.

You see near the front a blonde head of hair - Sharon. You haven’t spoken to her, but she’d be the safest bet, except there’s no empty seat on either side of her. She’s conversing with a woman with ginger hair to her left and a large body with short brown hair occupies the seat to her right - Bucky!

You notice there’s an empty seat next to him and quickly make your way over before your luck diminishes and someone takes it.

Bucky registers somebody take a seat next to him, which surprises him because most of the agents are still a little scared of him after spending seven weeks training with him. He certainly doesn’t treat them like shit, but he doesn’t baby them, either. He almost doesn’t notice it’s you when he glances up; he forgot you’ve changed your look a bit.

The tattoo on your next is covered with makeup, the angry face too much of an identifying feature. He knows you hate it and were planning on getting it covered anyway. You’ve removed all of your piercings and all of the tiny holes remain empty along your ears. You’ve managed to keep the tiny stud in your nose, though. Your hair is a jet black color now and it shines in the light. How has your hair survived that many dye jobs? Stupid rules for this job; no brightly colored hair or large body modifications, excluding tattoos. Draws too much attention.

He can sense your anxiety next to him; your heart is beating a mile a minute and you’re super tense. He wants to say something, do something to make you feel a bit better, put you at ease, but he can’t think of anything before Sam calls the attention of the room.

“Morning, everyone. NCIS has requested our help with finding a bomb on a Navy ship and figuring out the identity of the woman who told them about said bomb,”

Images flash up behind him projecting pictures of said woman, looking scared with a bloodied bandage on her forehead. She has a fluffy pixie-cut style dark hair and pale skin, or perhaps her skin is pale in comparison to the caked blood matted on her head. Her eyes are a bright green with minimal wrinkles adorning the outer corners. She couldn’t be older than thirty-five.

“A citizen driving by saw her wandering about the street next to a forest and when he approached her she claimed she was buried alive and couldn’t provide any information about herself; not her name, age, where she came from, or who buried her. All she kept repeating was something about a bomb on a Navy ship that was going to kill a lot of people.” Sam continues.

“I’ll be sending some of you out to Rock Creek Park to scope out the scene and some of you to Georgetown University Hospital to talk to Jane Doe. You’re dismissed but await further instruction and be prepared to ship out.” Sam finishes and everyone begins to stand, engaging in small conversations as they exit the room.

You begin to stand and follow suit but a metal hand reaches out in front of you to encourage you to take your seat once more. You throw a confused look over at Bucky, but he’s not looking at you. You glance over to Sharon, who’s staring down at her phone, and to Sam who is flicking through the file in his hands. The four of you, you notice, are the only ones still in their seats, and you quickly make the connection that you’re supposed to wait until the rest of the agents leave after a briefing.

Maybe they’re gonna haze you, newbie. You roll your eyes at that little voice as the door shut and hear it lock audibly.

The three of them glance up and stare at you expectantly. You glance between all three of them before you give up on figuring out what exactly they’re waiting for.

“Are you guys gonna haze me?”

Sharon smirks and Bucky full on chuckles at your question as Sam clarifies, “Do you see anything?”

“Oh! Oh, right, right. Uhm… It kind of doesn't work like - um, I’ll try. I’ll try and concentrate.” You excuse, and close your eyes to force yourself into that mindset.

Most of your visions happen unexpectedly and randomly, otherwise you need to put yourself in a kind of entranced state of concentration in order to, essentially, force a vision. Forcing it is usually what causes you to get the most emotional and frazzled, but nothing you can’t handle.

You feel your face heat up at the shyness your abilities are presenting right now; “Um, can we turn the lights off?” You ask quietly.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Sam speaks up.

The lights dim and you try to slow your breathing.

She’s covered in leaves and wet from humidity, the stickiness feeling unbearable on her skin. Her skin? Whose skin is that?

“It-It’s a shallow grave, and - and there’s leaves, um -” All you see and feel is pure confusion. You don’t know anything. “Why is it so shallow? They bury people six feet because - because that’s the depth where animals can’t smell dead, rotting flesh - except - except polar bears because they -” Your rambling is cut short at the sound of Bucky’s soft voice and his warm hand engulfing your shaking, clammy one.

“Sweetheart, try and focus on the Navy ship she was talking about, the bomb on the Navy ship.” He tries to get you back on track.

“Right, right, sorry,” You take a deep, shaky breath in and let out with force to calm yourself a bit.

It’s all quick white flashes, so fast and so bright that can’t see the images in between. All you get are feelings of fear and guilt -

“Do you know if she set the bomb?” A deep voice interrupts.

“Sam,” A feminine one scolds.

“What? There’s only one person that seems to know about this bomb and we’re not going to consider her a suspect?”

“She doesn’t even know who she is,”

“But -”

“She didn’t set the bomb!” You exclaim, everything becoming incredibly overwhelming all at once.

“How do you know?” Bucky asks, his calm demeanor influencing your own as you rub your face to somewhat pull yourself together.

“I - I - I just do! I don’t know! I - I keep seeing bomben hersteller, what - what is that?” You ask.

“That’s bomb fabricator in German.” Bucky translates.

“Okay, let’s stop for a second.” Sharon says, “This is a lot of new information, we should wait and see what evidence and samples come back from the crime scene and see what we can get out of her when the agents interview her at the hospital, maybe her condition’s changed and she remembers something, yeah?” You quickly realize that Sharon is the piece of mind between the dynamic of her and Sam while he strategizes the plans. They work extremely well together.

“Okay, okay. Agent, you did very well. Good job.” Sam praises before leaving to exit the conference room, you assume to go give the agents their orders. Sharon sends you a sweet smile before following Sam out.

You look back at Bucky and he’s already looking at you, smile on his face. “You did really good.” He tells you.

“Thanks.” You respond, feeling a lot calmer.

The two of you are sitting awfully close to each other, you notice, bodies turned to face each other in the rolling chairs you sit in. Bucky’s leaning closer towards you than you are him, his forearm pushing on the armrest and you find yourself pulling your eyes away from his and they travel around his face.

Bucky has beautifully long eyelashes and tiny sunspots and freckles that decorate his skin; skin that’s had over a hundred years of wear. He’s kept his hair short but has been growing out his beard, not to an uncomfortable burly length, but enough to leave quite the dark shadow. His tongue pokes out to wet his lips and your eyes flash down there.

You don’t even remember the last time you kissed someone, let alone someone you actually wanted to kiss, not a kiss that was forced upon you. Is he actually about to fucking kiss me right now?

Panic quickly rises through your body and you clear your throat and look away, “Uh, now what?”

“Huh?”

“Well, I can’t go out on missions or anything, so do I, uh, just wait to be summoned, I guess?” Summoned? Why are you so awkward?

“Pretty much, yeah. I’ll, uh, be sticking around, too. Sometimes for ongoing missions I stick around in one of the spare rooms until the case is over.” He softly tells you, unmoving from how close he’s sitting next to you and voice still low and smooth, not looking away from you. Can he tell how nervous and awkwardly attracted to him you feel right now?

“What about Alpine?” You whisper back.

“What?” His eyes are the ones drifting down to your lips, now. Soft looking lips that look like they could kiss him silly and unconscious.

“Alpine?”

“Oh, uh, she stays with my, uh, my neighbor. This little old lady next door to me.” Great, now I’m thinking about my old lady neighbor. You’re biting that lip now and he thinks he might start drooling when you stand suddenly.

“I, uh, just remembered. I have to… clean! I have to clean up, so. I’ll see you.” You push out before finally exiting the room and making your way down the hallway.

You release a frustrated, “Fuck…” as the elevator doors close in front of you.

Meanwhile, Bucky lets out his own groan of frustration in the conference room, hands pushed against his eyes rubbing harshly, “Fuck…”

#bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes one shot #Bucky Barnes fan fiction #marvel #marvel fan fiction

[hitokayachichi]

⛧ you get me closer to god; a tendou satori fic ⛧

⛧ ... school stress makes you do crazy things!! ...like try to summon your guardian angel and summon a demon instead  ⛧

⛧ ... first part of my sadist!tendou series hehe

⛧ ... ahh a little bit is inspired by seita, both for the idea of sadist!tendou, but her blog is rly supportive and welcoming has also given me the confidence to write lewds, and I really appreciate that :>

wc: 6.5k

cw: demon!Tendou, smut, degredation, praise, corruption kink, sadist!tendou, bdsm elements, pet names :>, spit kink, dumbification kind of, there might be something else i cant remember hhfkdjfs

Staring at your open notebook, you rub your eyes tiredly. It’s only one in the afternoon, but your Precalculus class has drained all of your energy. Your professor was absolutely insane, assigning so much homework. Doesn’t he know that college students take more than one class per semester? In your head, you’re already planning out the order in which you’re going to have to do your assignments and when. How late you’re going to have to stay up. All you want to do is take a nap after your last class, but will you even have time for that?

Class is over now, so you pack up your things and leave. At least your next class is much easier. Your Creative Writing professor is super sweet and you’d take a bullet for her, probably. Besides, your friend, Mayu, will be there, too. She always makes you feel better. Mayu has a sweet, but a little chaotic personality that usually rejuvenates you on bad days.

And there she is, waiting at one of the seats in the hallway. Once she sees you, she waves you over to the table excitedly. Her laptop and notebooks are out because she had a half-hour break between classes, and you gently push the notebooks aside to sit next to her.

“Hey, (y/n) guess what! I finally figured out your issue for Precal!” Normally Mayu is on some kind of bullshit, but since you were texting her during class earlier, it piqued your interest.

“Hmm?”

“Look!” Mayu exclaims, pointing at her computer screen. You lean over and it looks like she’s on some sort of forum webpage? It doesn’t look like any popular one that you’ve seen before, but you squint, trying to read.

... angel summoning?

“Mayu, what the hell?” As you read the forum page, you become more and more confused. The users spoke about chalk circles and meditation and wine and bread to summon your ancestral guardians, or something like that. It’s a little too much, right now. Your brain is still spinning from class.

Mayu is into some pretty unconventional things, so you aren’t exactly surprised, but each and every time she suggests some odd thing, you’re still a little... impressed with what she finds. “Okay, listen!” You look at her, and she just smiles at the way you’re telling her to shut up with your eyes. It’s never worked on her.

“Hear me out, (y/n). This is something I’ve actually done before, so I can one hundred thousand per cent guarantee that it works, I promise you.” A huge part of you wants to roll your eyes at her, but once again, you aren’t exactly surprised that she would have attempted something like this. “I met my guardian angel and she’s the one that helped me get accepted here! She guided me during my application and here I am!”

You just stare at her. “Right...”

“I swear on my life!” She begins to pack up her things, now that class is soon to start, and you shake your head at her. But by now she was finished with the conversation and is prattling about some girl she met in one of her other classes.

It’s so stupid, but the whole class, your mind keep tabs on that forum, just at the edge of consciousness.

⛧  … 

It’s 2:13 am and you very much hate your life. You’re exhausted and stressed. It’s way past your normal bedtime but you just have so much Precal homework to do. You feel like you’re drowning. Maybe it’s just because it’s late and you’re tired, but you can’t seem to stop thinking about what Mayu suggested. Mayu might be into some pretty odd things, but she most definitely isn’t dumb. If she’s said she’s done it before... maybe summoning an angel really does work?

You shake your head. That’s stupid. Rubbing your eyes, you get back to your homework. You have thirteen more questions left on this assignment, and then another fifteen question one. There’s no time to mess around.

So why can’t you get it out of your head?

You last six minutes before texting Mayu.

She tells you to make a sugar circle in your room, with bread and wine in the middle. It’s just you in your tiny studio apartment, and you’re a little too busy to really bake anything that needs sugar, so all you have is a tiny little thing that you use for your coffee. It’s not nearly enough to make a circle with. You use salt instead. Wine isn’t a drink that you typically have on hand either, but you have some leftover vodka that someone had left from a rare party that you had hosted like a year ago. It’s alcohol, so you figure it’ll work. The only thing that you actually had from what Mayu texted was bread, but you have a disappointing feeling that sliced bread from the grocery store isn’t quite what she meant either.

But you’re summoning an angel, after all. None of this is really as it seems.

There is a chant that Mayu sent you in what she says is Hebrew. That.. isn’t a language that you speak, so you know for a fact you aren’t going to say it right. You don’t know if it even truly is Hebrew. But once you draw the circle, light the red candle (Mayu said a white candle, but you only had red, so), and set up the alcohol and bread, you begin chanting.

Mayu had told you to go through the chant only once. But, doing so once, nothing happened. Twice, nothing happened. Thrice, with the same result. There was no smoke, no poof of magic, and most importantly, no guardian angel. Nothing.

You sigh, disappointed with yourself. The one time you trust Mayu’s ridiculousness, and it ends up like this. How could you be so dumb? Of course, no guardian angel is going to save you from math homework. If they even exist at all, they definitely have much more important things to do than a college student’s work. Sitting back down at your desk, you shoot a quick text to Mayu that it didn’t work.

She says to be patient, that it might come at one of the angel numbers. You don’t know what that is, but you’re tired. At this point, you just want to finish a couple more questions, then head to bed. The rest will be an issue for the future (y/n) to deal with.

But, as much as you wish to sleep, something keeps you up. You retired to your bed half an hour ago, at three. Most of your homework is completed, except for maybe a few questions. That’s something you can do before class, though. If you manage to fall asleep, that is.

There’s this itch underneath your skin, tingles with every move you make. It’s been like this for a while. you think. Maybe you’re getting sick. It’s hot, but you don’t feel like you have a fever. No, this is something different. The heat isn’t focused in your head, and you aren’t sweaty. Subconsciously, your thighs are clamped shut, hips softly moving. It feels good. You feel a little high.

The red light of your alarm clock illuminates your face as you stare at the time.

3:33 AM

Oh.

A little bit of you understands, but your mind has become a little hazy, a little foggy like cold November mornings. From the horror movies you’ve watched, seeing this specific time blinking red is unsettling.

Almost as if on queue, the floorboards creak in the hallway. Your cunt clenches, and you can’t help it. There are goosebumps on your arms, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. Slowly, you sit up. You normally leave a nightlight plugged into the socket across from your door in the hallway so that you don’t have to turn on a blinding light when you need to use the restroom at night. You can see it through the gap under your door, unless something is blocking it.

You watch the shine of the light disappear.

There’s someone in front of your door.

Curling your toes, you hold your breath, waiting. At this point, you think, there’s nothing you can do.

Slowly, steadily, you hear the lock on your door click, and watch as the door slowly opens.

Clearly, the summoning had worked.

But this is no angel.

Mottled black and purple horns protrude from the figure’s head, just barely illuminated by the dull lamp at your bedside table. His hair is red, and stands up. There’s a predatory smirk on his face, and your body heats. He’s wearing black ripped jeans and a leather jacket, and the skin on his knees look normal, but his hands are shaded a gradient of black and purple.

This, no questions asked, is a demon.

You frown, corners of your mouth wobbling. Surely, you are going to die, but you can’t help but feel something else. The way the demon looks at you is hungry, and it should not be so arousing. Perhaps he is going to eat your soul. But you think the fear does something for you too.

“Ah,” the demon says, smiling with sharp teeth. “How cute,” All you can do is stare at him. “How lucky am I to have someone as innocent as you,” the demon purrs and steps closer to your bed. “Look at the way you’re trembling, darling,” he reaches a finger out, and his nails are black and clawed. You can feel the tip of it on your chin, poking at you, and you lift your head with the movement of his finger to look him right in the eyes. You didn’t realize that you were shaking, but you stop now, paralyzed as you look into his eyes. They’re ravenous, and dark. No pupils, just blackness, but it’s piercing. There’s no way to really tell where he is looking, but you know that he’s staring straight through you.

The demon leans down to get level with you, where you sit up in bed. He grins, and his teeth are so sharp.

He’s going to tear you apart.

“Darling,” he murmurs, and his forked tongue darts out to lick at a tear you didn’t feel slide down your cheek. “I’m going to have so much fun with you,”

Once again, you tremble at his words. You have no idea what that means, but you’re certain these are your last moments. Taking a deep breath, you speak. “Are you going to eat me?” You mumble, quietly. The demon laughs loudly at you.

“Oh, sweetheart, cute. Of course, I’m going to eat you right up, how could I not?” He leans down further to lap at your neck, and your thighs clench together. Something about the sensation of his tongue and his proximity to you is so.. intoxicating, yet terrifying at the same time. You don’t know what to feel. Maybe you do want him to eat you.

“Am I going to die?” He lays you down, amused at your questions. You go pliantly, his tongue leaving you boneless. “No, not if you’re a good girl. Not if you don’t want to die. Do you want to die? Or do you want to be a good girl?” You are quiet for a moment, as you decide. A part of you wouldn't mind if you were eaten by him. His presence leaves your head foggy, almost as if you were tipsy on sweet wine. Perhaps you were just tipsy on his scent. He smells like earth and smoke and sulfur, something that makes your nose itch and your head hurt but leaves your thighs clenched together in the same breath. 

"No... I suppose I don't want to die," you whisper, as if speaking any louder will whisk him away. 

"So you're going to be my good girl, darling?" His right-hand slides over your chest and ghosts over your throat, his feeling of his fingertips lingering. He cups your jaw, thumb pulling at the corner of your mouth, and you only gaze at him, mesmerized. "Well, pretty? Good girls answer when asked a question." You nod, squeezing your eyes shut just for a moment.

"I-" you stutter when his left-hand slips under your sleep shirt, caressing the expanse of your stomach. "I'll be your good girl, um. Demon, sir." The demon laughs genuinely at that, leaning down to pull you in a short yet sultry kiss. He tastes like sweet nectarines, saccharine and syrupy, and you want to taste more. 

"You can call me Satori, sweetheart." Satori hums, kissing you once again. as if he knows how much you loved how he tasted. "Do you know what I'm here for? You called me here, after all." You shake your head, bashful that you had botched your summoning so awfully.

"... no, Satori, sir. I had, um, I had meant to summon an angel to help me with my math homework." Satori grins, forked tongue poking out between his teeth. With every word you speak, he looks more and more amused.

"And you got me instead, how ironic. You, my love, have summoned a demon." Of course, you had assumed that, it's quite obvious that Satori is nothing close to an angel. Yet, hearing the words, the confirmation, slithering off of his tongue leaves goosebumps. "I'll give you your deepest and darkest desires, darling," Satori drawls, his hand cold over your rib cage. When you shiver, you aren't sure if it's from the temperature or the touch itself. But you want it. The air around you is heavy with want, dark and leaden, weighing on you. 

"Okay," you whisper, because you don't really know what else to say. What else can you say? There is a demon in front of you, on top of you, touching you, kissing you, and he's going to ruin you. There is nothing that you can say. Your body speaks for you, with the way that you tremble beneath Satori, dripping with arousal.

"I know that you want it, pretty. I can smell it on you." Satori leans down, licking a stripe up the side of your neck, inhaling when he gets to the juncture between your jaw and your ear. "I can taste it." He bites at your earlobe, and it provokes a soft moan from you. "I'll eat you up, sweetheart." He sits up a little, just enough to pull you into a kiss, and this, this one is so... heady. Satori tastes so delicious, you just want to drink him up, and kissing him makes your head so cloudy in the best way you've ever felt. No drug could ever make you feel like this. When he pulls away, Satori leaves one hand on your jaw, and the other on your stomach slides up to cup your breast, squeezing firmly, but gently, and heat pools at your stomach. When you gasp, Satori hooks his thumb into your mouth so you can't close it all the way. Drool spills out of the corner.

"Oh, darling, look at you. So gorgeous, already drooling for me. Do you like how I taste, pretty?" You nod, tears pricking at your eyes, his words so sickly sweet, condescending in the most addicting way possible. "Of course you do. My spit is an aphrodisiac. Don't you feel it, sweetheart? Feel yourself go dumb with every taste?" A strangled sound leaves your throat, so desperate already. Satori laughs, so amused by your pathetic tears. You watch as he gathers spit on his forked tongue, watch as he leans over you and lets the spit from his tongue drip into your mouth. Immediately, the fruity taste explodes across your tongue and you whine at him, thighs clenching together. Your skin feels so hot, feverish and sweaty and you haven't really even done anything yet. 

"Look at you," Satori drawls as you moan at his touch. He caresses your cheek so gently compared to his words. "So pathetic, just lying here, letting me touch you. Looking so innocent but you're a little whore, aren't you? You even let me spit in your mouth, how disgusting!" The smooth pads of his fingers leave your cheek, only to connect harshly once again with a loud smack. The moan you let out is desperate, and sounds foreign even to your own ears.

He had slapped you, and you liked it.

Satori stands and roughly drags you to the edge of the bed, and you squeal in surprise. It's a little frightening, how his demeanour has hardened, but you're still wet and throbbing, and heat still flows through your body. You find that you enjoy being manhandled like this. It makes you feel like prey, and perhaps you are.

Gripping your waist, Satori fingers the edges of your pyjama shorts, grinning when you look up at him with teary eyes. The bulge in his pants is huge, and your cunt squeezes with the thought of something so big inside of you. He takes the waistband of your shorts and pulls, not hard enough to rip them, but it hurts a little when he yanks them off, and a part of you hopes that he handles you roughly enough tonight to leave bruises. With this, you feel surprised. You've never really had thoughts like this before. 

You feel corrupted.

Once your shorts are off, Satori sighs, one hand splayed over your hipbone and the other softly running up the wet patches on your underwear. "Have you ever been touched here before, darling?"

 You squirm in his hold, cunt sensitive already. "Um," you stutter, toes curling when he presses just the tiniest bit harder at your clit. "Kind of, I guess," While you weren't a virgin, you most definitely haven't felt anything like this before. Satori only smiles.

"I don't know about that," he says, moving your panties to the side. He settles lower onto the bed, closer to your abdomen, and kisses lightly at your stomach. "I don't think you've ever been touched like this before, not with the way that you're so responsive. Satori kisses at your hipbone, licks at the crease between your thigh and your cunt. You gasp when he blows cool air over your pussy. "You smell too pure. Sweet. Like cherries." And he inhales, just slightly, but you can hear it and your hole clenches around nothing, heat swelling in your stomach. You don't think you've ever been so wet before.

"I think I want to ruin you,"

Satori's nails are sharp against the flesh of your thighs, and a part of you wants him to make you bleed. Slowly, you can feel the darkness swirl through the haze of your mind, and you find yourself desiring things that you've never thought of before. When Satori uses his nail to poke sharply at the sensitive skin of your clit, you jerk, and it hurts, but it's good. You don't know what has gotten into you.

"God," you sigh, when he licks up your slit, but Satori shudders at that, a guttural growl leaving his throat. His teeth snap, and he looks up at you with dark eyes. The grip on your thigh has gotten tighter, almost breaking the skin, and your chest is full with arousal.

"Darling," Satori speaks coldly, and you know that you are in trouble. "Do you think it was smart to say such a word around me? Did you forget what I am?" He rises, his fingers still digging into your thigh while the other wraps tightly around your throat. You can still breathe, but it's difficult and there's pressure against your skull. It makes you a little light-headed, and your heart jumps in a pleasurable sort of fear.

"No, Satori, sir, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." you struggle to get out, but you do and he smiles, kissing hungrily at the corners of your mouth and your jawline.

"What a good girl you are, sweetheart. Of course, you weren't thinking, how could I forget how dumb I've made you for me? Just drooling and crying because you're so wet. Pathetic." You whimper at his words, diamond tears in your eyes, because he's right. There are no thoughts in your brain besides arousal and want, the desire for Satori to touch and corrupt you. Satori squeezes at your throat, just a little, but enough for your cunt to clench desperately. He leaves you with a light smack to your cheek, settling down between your legs once again. Instead of pushing them to the side, Satori takes your panties off this time, tugging them off roughly. His hands travel up your thighs, fingers digging so deliciously into your soft flesh. You look down only to see Satori looking at you like he wants to devour you.

And maybe you want him to.

"Fuck," he curses, eyes trained hungrily on your glistening cunt. "You look so appetizing, sweetheart. Gonna eat you right up," And Satori licks at your pussy like he's paid to do it, like he's born for it, and nobody's ever eaten you out before, but Satori quickly has you seeing stars with the way he puts pressure on your clit with his tongue. You sob in his hold, thighs quivering with the way that he eats you out. Soon, he takes a hand off of your thigh to slide a finger between your folds, using your wetness to slick it up enough to slide sweetly into your cunt, and it's only one finger but it presses against your walls and you wail beneath him. You've only ever been fingered once, and it wasn't that good, even with two fingers. Yet, even with just one, you're feeling ten times more pleasure than you ever had before, even by yourself. You squeeze around him as he still sucks on your clit, working a second finger inside of you. Even with his mouth busy, you can feel Satori grin against your cunt, so amused and satisfied with your reactions. When he presses his fingers against your sweet spot, you cry out, hands flying down to grip at his hair. Satori groans, and it's so deep and terrifying, but your toes curl and you feel so so close.

"Satori," you gasp, tears trailing down your cheeks. "Satori, please, wanna feel good, 'm close Satori," and he doesn't respond, can't really with his face buried in your cunt, but suddenly, he works a third finger in and you can't hold it anymore, and you gush around his fingers. He laps it right up, moaning into your pussy, and oh, you must taste good, then, if he's cleaning you up so eagerly. When he licks at your bud again, you jerk, still sensitive, crying out sweetly. It hurts, so you push at his head, but he insists on staying right where he is, with you trembling under him. He keeps the pads of his fingers pressed snugly against your sensitive walls while he continues to suck at your clit, and it's so so much, has you shaking and squirming to get away, but Satori lays his arm over your hips to hold you down. You can feel another orgasm building, and its much too soon. You sniffle beneath him, in tears with overstimulation, but there's amusement in his eyes when he looks up at your ruined face and you know he isn't going to stop until you come again.

"Can't, Satori, no more," you beg, hands pulling at his hair. He only grins into your cunt, fingers working you harder. "Please, no, I can't, not again!" You're sobbing and shaking but his fingers keep moving faster and harder, and when he pulls away from your clit to change his angle, you can feel it even more. "Oh, Satori, it's too much!" But he's smiling hungrily, teeth sharp and terrifying.

"But you love it, darling. Love being ruined, don't you? Wouldn't be so wet if you didn't." His fingers press in all the right places, and suddenly you can feel yourself rolling over the edge once more, and you can't hold it in. You squeal as you squirt all over yourself and his arm, trembling with overstimulation, and you can hardly breathe with the impact of your orgasm. Satori really loves it though, and it seems like with each orgasm that he brought you, his eyes got brighter, like he was feeding off of your pleasure, and maybe he was. He's a demon, after all.

"Fuck," you curse, and your legs twitch with every after-wave of arousal, cunt throbbing with the force of your orgasm. Slowly, Satori slides his fingers out of your sopping cunt, and his arm is dripping, something that you never would have thought you would see, and you clench when he looks you in the eyes and licks at the slick trailing down his forearm. You whimper, head falling back, where you're propped up on your elbows, and your inner thighs burn where Satori has forced them open. 

"So good for me, princess," Satori says coyly, as he continues to lick up your slick. "Taste so delicious, I really want to eat you up, now. Nobody's ever made you do that before, huh? Made your little cunny squirt?" You whimper and shake your head, hands curled up towards your chest, breathless. "Cute," he comments, and he pets himself over his black jeans. He had never alluded to his own pleasure this entire time, that you almost forgot what tends to happen next, and suddenly you get shy, and a little scared.

"Darling," Satori coos when he notices your change in demeanour. "There's no point in being afraid," he laughs, staring straight into your eyes. "I've already ruined you anyways, might as well just take this." You frown, but he's right. He's already made you come twice, and you still feel hot, your cunt is still throbbing and begging to be filled. There is nothing more that you can do but take Satori's cock. 

He's knelt over you, thighs straddling your ribs when he takes his cock out. It's so close to your face, and you go cross-eyed staring at it. Satori is big and thick, and you don't know how he's going to fit anywhere. You've never done more than a handjob before, much less given a blowjob or taken cock in your pussy before. You gaze up at him, worried, but that only serves to make it better for him, you can see the way his eyes get a little more lidded when he looks at you. "Satori, sir," you murmur.

"Yes, sweetheart?" But he already knows what you're going to say. He strokes himself above you, and his precum drips onto your chest, just barely missing where your sleep shirt is scrunched up under your underarms. You whimper, just a quiet little noise, but of course, Satori hears you. He smiles deviously, and takes his cock and rubs it on your breasts, making a mess of you with his precum. "Darling," Satori groans, oh so condescending. "Looks like you've got a little something on you, what a messy girl. Pathetic." You moan at his words, humiliated, but it feels good. With your panties off and your shirt rucked up, you feel so exposed, and you find that you love this feeling of helplessness. Satori strokes his cock again and scoots up your chest just enough so that the tip of his cock rests just at your lips. "Since you're so disgusting, I think you should clean me up. You've made this mess, after all. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. It's only fair."

Your lips wobble preciously, on the verge of tears as you gaze up at Satori with glistening eyes. "But," you whisper, a gentle frown on your face. "I don't know how to do that, Satori, sir. I've never... never done that before." And Satori, he smiles wider at you, and you can see the way that glee swells within his eyes, and oh, you realise, cunt throbbing, oh. He gets off on this. Satori gets off on the idea that you're innocent. That you're a virgin. He wants to destroy you, corrupt you, ruin you for anyone else. He wants to take something away from you that nobody else can get after. It's his. He, Satori, is the one who ruined you. Somebody else can fuck your tight cunt, can taste you, can feel your lips on them, but he had it first. 

But its okay, you think, because you want Satori to ruin you, too. 

"Good," he whispers, before his cock is pressing more insistently against your lips. Reluctantly, you open your mouth, and you're a little worried, you don't know how to cover your teeth or take him in or anything, but you know that it'll be okay in the end. Satori will teach you. "Good," he repeats, headier, as he slides just the very tip between your lips, and while maybe you are a little inexperienced, you aren't innocent either, and you know what feels good, so you swirl your tongue tentatively around the head, tongue dipping precariously into the slit. Satori groans above you, and you can feel the muscles on his thighs tense under your palms as he resists the urge to completely sheath himself down your throat. "Fuck," Satori curses, and suddenly, his hands are in your hair, gripping hard, and his eyes are glowing. You cry out in a surprised moan, the hold on your hair bringing diamond tears back to the corners of your eyes. "So fucking good, darling, what a good whore for me," he says, and in the same breath, he's shoving his cock a little bit further into your mouth. You choke, just slightly, but recover quickly, and you try your hardest to focus on keeping your teeth covered and making him feel good, eyes squeezed shut. Just slightly, you press your tongue right under the head, and his cock jerks in your mouth, and god, you think you can feel your pussy leaking.

Your body is warm and tingling, even as you choke so gorgeously on Satori's cock. He's not even in all the way, and you're already gagging, your throat just not used to taking something so big inside. Now, he's just let go, pays no mind to your breath or your jaw, lost in the pleasure of the wet heat of your mouth. Even though it's difficult, you try to work your tongue as he fucks your throat, and you can't really swirl it, at least not now with such a low skill level, but you manage to press it against the underside of his cock, the pressure catching just under the head of his cock every time he pulls out, and he groans, grip on your hair tightening. You feel so used and normally you would be disgusted by this, but all you can really think about is how you want this always, how you want to be Satori's, his sweet puppy knelt at his side where you belong and, and you have no idea where this is coming from. It feels like you're intoxicated, the only things that run through your head is the way that Satori's cock smells, his touch, how you want him to split you open forever and ever. 

"Oh," Satori groans, and suddenly you're brought back to the real world. You had floated away at some point, you aren't quite sure when, but you're finally aware of your surroundings again. "Poor baby, got fucked so dumb she forgot what she was doing, sweet thing." It's now that you realise that your jaw had gone completely slack, lips no longer wrapped tightly around his cock. Your tongue just rests dead in your mouth, and you really had just checked out, thinking about how much you wanted Satori. Let him fuck your sloppy mouth, too dumb to even do anything. 

"'M sorry," you gasp when he pulls out. You feel a little bad, but it seems like he liked it. Liked that you couldn't even think and just let him do whatever he wanted. But you don't mind. Satori can do whatever he wants to you whenever he wants. Your saliva drips from his cock onto you breasts, and Satori looks feral on top of you.

"Its okay, darling," Satori coos, taking your breasts in his hands and squeezing, sucking in a breath at the way they glisten with all the spit and precum smeared on your skin. "I already know what you need. I can smell it on you. Your poor cunny is absolutely dripping for my cock, and I know that you want it too, don't you?" You cry out and nod, because you do. You need it so bad. 

"Please," you whisper, and you sound so desperate and wrecked that you almost didn't recognise your own voice. "Satori, sir, please. Need it so bad, so bad." You start to cry, then, and your cunt is throbbing and you want to be filled so badly, all of these feelings are so overwhelming. Satori hushes you with his mouth, using his tongue to spread your lips apart. He pulls away and slides off of you to grip your thighs and press them as far as he can towards your chest. 

"Okay, darling," Satori drawls, a feral grin showing off his sharp teeth. "Gonna ruin you real good," He moves forward, taking one hand off of your thigh to line himself up with you fluttering cunt. Your thighs shake in anticipation, you've never had anything like this inside of you before, and you're so scared but also incredibly excited. And you can feel it, too, when the head of Satori's cock presses against your hole. Your pussy throbs, and it's right there and you can feel it. So so close to having his cock inside of you, you squirm, moving your hips to try and work the head in some more, just a little bit, anything! Satori laughs at your efforts. 

 Satori coos at you. "That's cute, sweetheart, wanna be filled so badly? Take it then." He pushes himself all the way in.

You cry out, and it fucking burns, but his head hits just above your cervix so mind-numbingly that you don't even care, body seizing in an addictive mixture of pain and pleasure and you can hear yourself gasping, but you can't feel yourself breathe. Satori curses above you, leaning into his thrust to fill himself as deep inside you as possible. It's almost like you can feel him in your stomach, he's so big and pressing so deep, you feel much more full than any vibrator could ever grant you. It's so good, even more so when Satori pulls back out and slams himself inside once again, leaving you to cream delicately all over his cock.

"Fuck," Satori groans, his grip tightening on the flesh of your thighs as you flutter around him. You sob, reaching up to grab at him, needing something, anything to ground you. Taking your left hand in his, Satori presses your arm above your head, and even though your other hand is gripping hard on his shoulder, you feel so helpless. Your second orgasm did absolutely nothing to help with the heat in your stomach and with the way that Satori continues to fuck your tight heat has you bracing yourself for your next orgasm.

"Fuck, Darling," Satori curses again, pulling out to carelessly flip you over onto your stomach. One hand presses between your shoulder blades to keep your upper body flush with the mattress, and the other grabs your hips and settles you on your knees. A part of you must have forgotten what he is, and you were shocked with the way he just lifted you like you were nothing, but his roughness only led to arousal, and you sob as he pounds you into the mattress. "Cute, sweetheart," Satori coos, hand sliding from your back to grip your hair and pull. You moan loudly, and you've never felt a feeling of pain and pleasure like this before, and you think that it's something you may become addicted to. "Love being manhandled like this, huh? Who's gonna think you're innocent now, hmm? Such a dirty girl, now, getting off to being pushed around and bruised. Ruined for anybody else." Satori leans down, then, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. "This is all mine, isn't it, love?"

"Yeah," you respond, breathless with the way that Satori thrusts into you, "yes, Satori, sir. All yours," It's difficult to speak and your words stutter and slur, between the drool dripping down your chin and how Satori is fucking you mindless, but you hope it gets the point across. You don't know. You can't really think. Satori nips at your earlobe and growls into your ear.

"Good." And then he pulls your hair so hard you have to bring your back flush with his chest, and his other hand wraps deliciously around your throat as he holds you up against him. Before, you could never understand how anyone would like to be treated so roughly during sex, the thought of being choked was terrifying to you, but here you are now, eyes fluttering delicately as you can hardly breathe from the hand on your throat and Satori's hips. It feels so fucking good, and you don't think anyone else could ever make you feel this way. You feel drunk on Satori's existence, and your cunt squeezes so nicely around him at that. 

"Please," you beg, just barely able to get your words out. That feeling is there again, and you know that you're close, but you want Satori to come first. "Please," you repeat, just as broken as before. You try to move your hips yourself, just a little, but Satori only laughs.

"Sweet thing, trying so hard, but you've been pounded too stupid for that, hmm darling? Can't even speak, poor girl." He speaks so highly, but you can tell that he's close too, with the way that his hips stutter, and he sounds a little breathless himself. You only squeeze harder around him, half on purpose and half because the way he speaks to you is so addicting. His groans are deep and they're getting a little feral, and it's so fucking hot, his nails dig into your skin and it hurts so good, his thrusts become so erratic and he's louder and growling and, and-

Warm liquid spurts into your cunt and his cock pulses inside of you and that, that, sends you over the edge, and you cream over his cock once again as he comes inside of you.

Satori lets go of you, gently placing you face down on the bed, and finally, you can breathe again. Your chest is heaving as you lie there, and when he slowly pulls out, you can feel his cum drip out of you. Whining, you squirm at the feeling, mind too hazy to do anything about it. "Sweetheart," Satori murmurs, running his fingers through your hair, shushing you. "I'll run a bath to clean you up. Feeling okay?" You only whine again, toes curling in embarrassment. That was so... you were so... dirty. But Satori only laughs softly at you, nothing close to the degrading laugh you heard earlier. 

"No worries, darling, I'll take care of you."

#tendou satori #satori tendou #shiratorizawa #fics #tendou drabble #tendou imagine #tendou x you #tendou headcanon #tendou x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu!! #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu writing #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #hq #hq x you #hq tendou

[talltales]

            —INSTEAD OF CALLING ME OUT, YOU SHOULD BE PULLING ME IN                 I'VE JUST GOT ONE MORE THING TO SAY                                                            anonymous request!!

“the idea that happiness lasts is a misconception,” he speaks with a hand lifting skyward, as if trying to impress the words on the cosmos themselves. the few, faintly visible stars in the distance give their answer, twinkling beneath the canopy of sunset pinks and oranges, “it’s something we make ourselves believe so we keep searching for it, but all it does is make us feel like failures because we haven’t found it.”

she can hear the gears turning in his head; the words held at the tip of his tongue—ready to be arranged into some profound piece of knowledge that she’ll resent, in the knee-jerk way that she usually resents good advice.

“you’re doing it again,” she looks at him briefly, finds him examining the flow of light filtering through his outstretched fingers. the shadows dance across his face in tune with the waves lapping at their toes, “stop philosophizing at me.”

to his credit, jaebeom only laughs.

he is gold, almost lit from within as he reaches up and ties his hair into a messy ponytail; stray strands dust the tops of his shoulders even after he tucks them behind his ear.

“you need a haircut.”

he shakes his head and lifts himself to sit, “i want it longer.” his fingers slide through the wet sand, and she watches him take a deep breath and hold it, as though savoring the salty ocean air.

on a whim, she does the same.

“going for the full hippie look? i’m expecting a goatee.”

the sound of his laughter is crisp; a welcome break in the lull of the waters and the echoing of seagull calls over their heads, “you’ve made some bets, haven’t you?”

indifferent, she hums and stretches her legs further; allows the waves to swallow them up to her knees, “maybe.”

“so, what do you think?”

his question elicits another glance. this time, jaebeom is looking back at her with a stare that falls just short of piercing. he’s intent, and though she grasps for reasons why that might be—

she comes up with nothing.

“of your opinions on lifelong happiness?”

he nods.

quietly, she leans back on her palms and tilts her head back, gazing up to the skies where dusk quickly takes hold. there is a sense of peace to be found on these obscure shores, where the streetlights are more lighthouses than guideposts and there is no staving off the night when it descends.

the stars shine much brighter.

jaebeom is patient, as he always is. she listens to the muted in-and-out of his breath at her side and finds he’s much closer than she’d originally thought. his hips brush hers as he shifts in the sand, reaching up to slide the most rebellious strands of dark hair out of his face.

“i think,” his attention shifts back to her as she begins. it is a tangible thing that settles on the right side of her face, and in spite of the evening chill, she feels her skin warm. “that we know that. happiness is fleeting, and that’s why we treasure it when it’s there and in our reach.”

from the corner of her eye, she sees him incline his head.

again, the gears turn.

“makes sense.”

she rolls her eyes, before moving to lie back on the sand, “you’re not the only philosopher here, jaebeom.”

it’s only when she closes her eyes that she feels him follow; the sinking of the sand at her side that signals him settling right next to her, “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

the weight of his focus remains on her.

when she dares to look, she finds that jaebeom is watching her; turned to face her with his arm resting beneath his head—face half hidden beneath the curtain of hair that has grown damp. he says nothing.

he is gold.

“got another question?” aiming for nonchalance but coming up short, she surveys the scattering of stars emerging from behind clouds of violet and pink; listens to the lapping of waves and centers her attention on the cool water sliding across her skin.

all it does is make her shiver.

the closest streetlight flickers to life, somewhere down the coastline. it, with the dying remnants of sunlight lingering above the horizon, cast the sand in shades of muted bronze.

it’s nothing short of stunning.

“on the topic of reaching for happiness,” his voice reaches her ears softly; a whisper that sharpens her attention down to the faint rasp there as he clears his throat, “remember when you told me that you had a crush on your married veterinarian?”

nonchalance.

humming, she ignores the way her hackles instinctively raise and instead releases a sigh, “you mean last week?”

a seagull circles, some morsel of food trapped between the hinges of its beak. she grasps for the hem of her thin tank top and tugs it—

“mm,” and she pretends that it doesn’t settle in her bones in the worst possible way. it’d be a plain lie to say that she’d never thought of him that way; that her eyes hadn’t followed him whenever he moved in certain ways; that she hadn’t woken to find that he’d taken residence in her dreams as often as he did on her couch.

“are you done with it?” he inquires, and it takes a minute to remember what the question had been before.

she inspects the play of shadows across his face; the heaviness in his gaze, veiled beneath a crafted air of—

nonchalance.

it makes her pause; makes her reach for humor and the shelter of pretense.

“why? looking to join the queue of my ill-fated infatuations?”

jaebeom only laughs, and he is gold.

even in the dusk.

there is an embarrassing delay between the brush of his lips over her ear and her next coherent thought. his words register slowly, hummed gently against her skin; half-hidden beneath the cresting of waves and the dizzying roar of her own thoughts.

“i’m ready when you are.”

#request #member + prompt #jaebeom fanfic #got7 fanfic

[dboliklover]

Easter Sins - Reiji (Easter Smut Series 1)

WARNING: SMUT, LEMON, NOT SAFE FOR WORK! READ AT OWN RISK. Pregnant sex, bunny ears + tail, Mild Bondage and  Masosadism

It was a lovely evening, the moonlight of the almost-full-moon shining brightly through the large, uncovered windows as the silver rays encased you - and more importantly, your ever-growing stomach - in an array of gentle light.

A romance novel in hand, you read in silence, entirely engrossed within the story. At least you were, until you heard your bedroom door open, and glanced up to see your tired husband. If there was one thing you had learned about Reiji during the years you had known him, it was that he always worked hard - daily. Whether it was planning events, doing /Shu’s/ work as the heir, or anything in between, he gave his full time and effort. Smiling sweetly at his tired face, you placed your book on your bedside table, greeting him softly as you try to stand up to hug him, only for him to sigh and shake his head. “Please do not raise, you might strain yourself.” Biting your lip with a smile, you let out a cute laugh. “I can handle some strain, Reiji.” Playing with a strand of your hair, you playfully add, “I’m pregnant, not dying. Besides, I’m not even that far along yet, it’s not even my fourth month yet…” Reiji stared at you for a few moments, internally admiring your immense beauty. It was true what they said about pregnant women - you really did ‘glow’.

You noticed his tired admiration, and smiled, somewhat pitying his mentally exhausted state. You knew his tiredness seemed to be less physical, and more on the stressful side of his many responsibilities. That was when the most perfect idea hit you, and you excitedly almost hopped off the bed. “I know /just/ the thing...sit down, I’ll be out in a moment..!” You exclaimed, before racing to the walk-in closet. You weren’t sure if you’d still fit it, but a few months ago, before your pregnancy, you’d bought the perfect springtime outfit...you hadn’t taken the concept you’d be pregnant so soon into consideration when you had purchased it, and perhaps (if you still fit into it!) this would be the ideal time to use it…

Getting the bunny costume out from its hidden space in your closet, you hurriedly tried to fit into it - and, thank the gods above for stretchy material - it fit! The curve of your belly visible in the tight-but-stretchy material was annoyingly endearing as your belly showed the life that was within you. The life you made with your beloved Reiji, as frustrating as your husband could be.

Putting on the tail and bunny headband that came with the costume, you got ready to get out and put yourself on display and hopefully lift his sunken spirits.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright in there?” His voice echoed from the bed. Taking that as your queue to show yourself to him, you did just so, creeping from the closet wall as you leaned seductively against it, in full view of Reiji, who stared at you with wide eyes for several short seconds, as he tried to take in what he was actually seeing right now. The very first thought on his mind was that you looked absolutely amazing with your pregnant stomach. It was the best sight in the world, and he honestly wouldn’t mind if he was to constantly get you pregnant if only so he could eternally see your pregnant, blessed figure. The second thing to come to Reiji’s mind, however, was how ridiculously sexy you looked in that outfit. It was something that you wouldn’t normally wear - he wasn’t even sure when or how you got it without his knowledge but fuck did you look oddly good wearing a bunny outfit. Normally, Reiji wasn’t really ‘into’ pet play, which he assumed this was. But there was something about the way the tight outfit empathised the small bump of your belly, the bump in which his child was growing within... truly a wondrous sight to behold. Not to mention you, yourself, looked unusually enticing to him with those bunny ears on…

Smiling seductively at him, you slowly strode over to him, putting on quite the show. It had been a while since the two of you had made love and in all honesty, you missed him on that level on intimacy. Instead of walking right to him as he believed you would, you actually backed away when he tried to reach for you, walking around to the other side of the large bed, never breaking eye contact. Smirking mischievously, but with the most crimson blush on your face, you crawled onto the other side of the bed, sitting in a delicate position of innocence, looking up at him with large Bambi-esque eyes. Reiji could feel his instinctual side creeping out, and you could tell with the way his eyes darkened with animalistic lust. “Come here.” He demanded darkly, and you could feel your lower-body becoming heated at the tone of his voice - you loved it when he was dominant with you… Silently, you did as told, your eyes never breaking from his sultry stare. You knew he was nearly at his ‘breaking’ point - that was to say, the point in which he would finally cease to keep himself all proper and would just embrace his animalistic, carnal desires.

“Lay down.” He ordered when you got close enough to him, and once again you did just as he instructed you to do, hs dominance being something you were borderline addicted to. Truth be told, you were somewhat of a masochist… Walking away from the bed, Reiji opened your shared ‘special’ closet where all the ‘fun’ objects were hidden, and you pressed your thighs together in aroused excitement as you watch him sort through the different toys and objects to cause painful pleasure. Eventually, he got the red satin ribbons out, but that was it - much to your disappointment, as you had hoped to have a painfully wonderful experience. Nonetheless, you assumed that he was internally hesitant to do anything ‘hardcore’ like both of you had done before your pregnancy due to the concept of accidentally harming the baby within you.

Reiji tied your arms and legs to the bedposts of your bed, the satin ribbon tightly tied around the sensitive flesh of your wrists which he often drank your blood from. Gods, you loved being tied up and at your husband’s mercy like this… Reiji kissed your neck softly at first, then as he proceeded to kiss and lightly bite you lower and lower he got increasingly more aggressive and carnal, his sharp fangs scratching the delicate skin of your neck, but never fully piercing it. You thought you could cum from just the concept of him roughly biting into you because that was how weak you were when it came to him.

Cute moans of his name escaped your lips as he pulled the bunny costume down slightly, revealing your breasts in the moonlight. Your breasts were steadily growing as the months continued, filling with the breast milk you would eventually fee your child with.

He fondled them softly and unusually gently as some raw milk spilt, and he let out a quiet chuckle of amusement before he locked eyes with you once more. The way he looked so (ironically) angelic in the silver rays of the moon sent you to heaven and back again, feeling happiness bud in your chest at the realisation that this was your husband and the soon-to-be father of your children.

You felt the need to touch him, only to find yourself restrained by the ribbons, pouting softly. He sighed, placing his glasses on the bedside table as to not dirty them, and unbuckled his belt. Your wetness increased tenfold as you watched him do such and reveal his member to you. You almost felt yourself salivating at the sight. Your husband had you basically trained to belong to him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He smirked boldly as he lowered himself to your pussy, the black bunny material covering it soaked with your love juices. The laugh Reiji released when he saw the dark patch covering your vagina sent electricity down your spine and his laugh alone was enough to get you off.

His fingers moved the fabric to the side, showing your shiny pussy off to him. “Hmm? What’s this….” His voice was going to drive you crazy as he teased you. “You’re already so wet for me…” once more, he laughed, before rubbing his fingers on your slick clit, sharp moans leaving your lips, legs weak and shaking wildly at the sensation. You needed him…! “M-Master...please…!”

If there was another thing you knew about Reiji, it was that calling him ‘master’ was a sure way to get the world’s best dicking.

And you were right, as the desire in his eyes increased and before you knew it he was practically pounding into you. He was still gentle, and yet incredibly fast and rough. You could swear you were in actual heaven right now as your tight walls encased around his large dick, sucking him into your deepest depths.

The sound of skin slapping skin filled your bedroom, your thigh fat and belly jiggling slightly at the pace of the quick rhythm. Thoughts were beginning to fade from your mind entirely, the only thing on your mind was the raw feeling of your husband inside you, moving in and out of your heated, pregnant body.

As he got closer to his own edge and you did to yours, Reiji started roughly kissing and biting your neck once more, leaving his love bites all over you - something he didn’t normally do, but at the moment he had lost himself just as you had, the pleasure leaving only the instinct of marking you as his forevermore. You could feel him twitching inside you, and you came on his dick as it pierced your pussy, the tip kissing the lips of your cervix, sending painful-but-heavenly signals down your spinal cord. Finally, Reiji pumped for the last time, his semen flowing deep into your core, and as he did so he bite down on your neck, drinking from it.

The sensation of his sperm inside your already-impregnated womb mixed with the pain of your neck being pierced with those sharp fangs caused you to cum more than you had done ever before, and fuck did you love pregnant sex. You were so much more sensitive. Needless to say, you would definitely need to wear this outfit more often. - Mod Rozalia  Please give feedback! I tried to make it more sensual + fluffy than hardcore (trust me, Hardcore IS going to be coming soon enough...but I hope this is okay! I always struggling writing for Reiji...

#SMUT #LEMON #TW:LEMON #Reiji #Reiji x reader #Sakamaki #Diaboys #Dialovers #diabolik #dialove #Diabolik Lovers #reiji sakamaki #Pregnancy #TW: pregnancy #Sins #Sinful #x reader #x reader lemon #lemon x reader #x reader imagine #x reader imagines #prompts

[tomnhaz]

tom getting overprotective and jealous and fighting a guy for you and then you patch him up? maybe heavy angst and some light fluff?

Here ya go love, kinda got carried away, so my apologies…

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of sexual harassment, angst 

Notes: sorry i’ve been inactive, I’ve got a few in the queue so hopefully i’ll remember to post them

Tagging some mutuals to promote… @h-osterfield @hollandharrison @hollandsosterfield @hazthediv @spideymood

You and Tom had decided to go out tonight with a few of his castmates to celebrate the successful release of the trailer for the new spiderman movie. You had decided to wear your new pair of high waisted, dark wash jeans because hey, it made you ass look great; you paired them with a bright floral crop top the dipped low and exposed a semi decent amount of cleavage.

Harrison had picked the two of you up a few hours ago, blasting pump up songs in his car on the way to the bar. Tom had ‘pregamed’ before you left the house, earning him a nice buzz in the car. Despite his tough guy appearance, Tom was a total lightweight. After a couple drinks he was buzzed and got super handsy, a couple more and he was loud and very extroverted, but give him a couple more after that and he became very easily irritated.

But while the three of you were singing along to the bass in Harrison’s car, Tom’s hand were roaming between the sliver of skin along your stomach that was exposed and rubbing circles against your inner thigh. Several times you had to grab Tom’s hand and pull it away, looking up at him with a smirk and shaking your head disapprovingly.

‘What?’, Tom would ask, feigning innocent, his eyes blown wide with lust.

You were sort of relieved once you reached the bar because it meant Tom would roam around instead of clinging to your side. Don’t get it wrong, you loved Tom, you really did but it was difficult to enjoy a night out for yourself when you were constantly worried about him. Instead, you passed him off to Harrison once you stepped through the door and walked straight over to the bar and ordered yourself a drink.

You turned around and leaned against the counter of the bar and surveyed the room, flashing smiles at people you knew. You scoped out a group of people across the bar who you knew, and turned back around to pay for your drink. As you handed your credit card to the bartender, you felt someone move up against you.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see a tall figure with his back leaning on the bar, his large, hairy hands clutching a drink. You turned your attention back towards the wall behind the counter, but you could still feel his eyes on you. You tried to focus on the bottles of alcohol sitting on the shelves in front of you, and you smiled weakly at the bartender as he came back with your card. You moved to put your card back in your purse, grabbed your drink, and moved to turn around, but you couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your throat as you felt the man’s arm wrap around your waist.

You could feel the man’s pungent breath against your ear as he whispered, ‘Hey, darling. I know you can see me.’. His arm pulled you closer into his chest, so your back was pressed against his chest, his hand traveling down to your hips, pulling your body flush against him. ‘What do you say we get out of here?’.

You could feel his arms wrap around your waist and tears brimmed around your eyes. A burning feeling trapped in the back of your throat; you wanted to scream, to shout - to do anything, anything to get someone’s attention.

From across the bar Tom watched a man move to stand next to you. He felt his jaw clench and his grip on his drink tightening. Tom knew you were tough and that you pride yourself on being independent, but when this strange man wrapped his arm around your waist his patience was gone. He thrusted his drink into Harrison’s chest, the blonde startled and confused as he watched the brunette shove his way through the crowd of people in the club. His eyes wandered towards the counter until he spotted you and your unwanted company, he muttered an ‘oh shit’ under his breath before he set the drinks down and chased after his best friend.

The first tear fell from your eye as your body tensed, you attempted to struggle in his arms, small pleadings falling from your lips, wishing for anything that would make this stop.

‘Hey pal’, you heard someone shout behind you, and a sigh of relief left your mouth as Tom’s voice sounded behind you.

The man dropped his hold on you, and turned around, ‘Look, buddy I’m just trying to have a good time here. Why don’t you-’ he started, but he was cut off by Tom’s fist connecting with his jaw.

A shocked scream escaped your mouth as Tom tackled the man to the floor. ‘Tom!’ you shouted in surprise as he continued to deliver blows to the guys face. ‘Tom, please, stop!’ you begged, tears falling freely down your face at the sight of your boyfriend beating this man.

Harrison was quick on the scene, reaching down and pulling Tom off of the stranger, whose nose was grabbing at his bleeding nose.

‘Tom! Mate, stop. Come on, calm down. Come with me, let’s go.’ Harrison muttered, struggling to keep Tom from swinging out at the man again. You watched silently from the bar as Harrison dragged you drunk boyfriend from the club. The man on the floor looked up at you with a glare, wiping the blood off of his face. You cringed and turned to follow close behind, reaching up and wiping the tears from your eyes as you walked out of the club.

When you got outside you stood there for a minute, letting the cold air flush over your body and wash away the burning feeling from where the man had touched you. You closed your eyes and tried to erase the thoughts of the event from your mind, but the feeling of his hands on your body brought tears to your eyes as a choked sob escaped your throat.

Tom watched you walk out the door of the club, and he watched as you stood in the entryway of the club, your eyes squeezed shut in pain. His own eyes pricked with tears as he watched tears fall down your face, and he lunged towards you to catch your fragile frame as a sob slipped from your perfect lips and you stumbled forward.

‘Y/N, love, it’s okay.’ Tom’s hands grasped ahold of your waist, trying to hold you up but the feeling of touch against your exposed skin sparked that familiar burning sensation and you pulled back abruptly. Tom looked slightly taken aback, ‘Y/N, darling, it’s just me.’ he said calmly, his arms stretched out in front of him defensively.

You looked up at him in anger, ‘You didn’t have to do that, Tom’, you whispered, crossing your arms to shield yourself from the world - from Tom.

Tom face scrunched up in confusion in anger, a little caught off guard by what you had said, ‘Done what? Protected you from that piece of shit? Yea, I did, Y/N. You obviously couldn’t handle the situation yourself.’ He scowled down at you, not comprehending how you could possibly find anger for him at the moment, given how he had just saved you from potentially being assaulted by that guy.

‘Tom-I’ you started, but Tom was quick to cut you off, the alcohol he had been consuming at a quick pace all night beginning to have an affect on his mind.

‘No, Y/n. Why the fuck are you mad at me right now?! What did I do wrong here? Forgive me for wanting to protect my girlfriend from that fucking creep!’ he shouted back at you. You couldn’t tell if his cheeks were red from the alcohol or his anger, but you pushed that our of your head as you felt your own cheeks begin to flush.

You just stared at your boyfriend. Yes, you knew he was drunk, and yes, you knew that if he was sober he wouldn’t be saying any of this, but that didn’t make his words any less hurtful. You could feel your heart tighten in your chest as the love of your life stood 3 feet in front of you, his chest heaving as his breathing quickened, and his typically shining brown eyes blown wide with anger. Your gaze traveled to his hands, which were still stretched out in front of him from when he reached out to you, and you saw the blood drying on his knuckles.

You didn’t know if the blood was his or the other guys, but at this point you didn’t care, you just wanted it off of him. You took 3 steps forward and grabbed your boyfriend by the forearm and all but dragged him into Harrison’s car, who was sitting in the driver’s seat anticipating your departure. You pushed Tom into the back seat of the car and climbed in after him, looking up briefly at Harrison who gave you a knowing look and pulled the car out before heading towards home.

In the backseat, you leaned Tom’s head gently against the headrest and reached over him to grab the seat belt before wrapping it across his body. You could feel Tom’s gaze piercing into you, but you refused to say a word. Once his seat belt was buttoned you sat back down in your seat, your gaze falling on the passing buildings outside your window. You found your mind wandering back to earlier, and the burning feeling returned, but you snapped back at the feeling of Tom’s fingers intertwining with your own.

You gazed up at him briefly, a look of concern and love resting on his tired face. You wanted nothing more than to reach over and brush his long hair out of his eyes. He had been saying for weeks how badly he needed a haircut, and yet he never went; you were beginning to think it was because he knew you liked it longer. You gave him a small smile in return, rubbing your thumb against his and shifting slightly in your seat so that you were resting against his shoulder.

The two of you remained in this position until Harrison pulled up in front of your shared home. You unbuckled yours and Tom’s seat belt and helped him from the car, before turning around and saying a quick thanks to Harrison for driving the two of you home.

‘No problem, love’ he responded, his blue eyes shining bright, but something else you couldn’t quite place was lying just beneath the surface. ‘Hey, Y/N?’, he called out just as you were turning around to help your drunk boyfriend up the stairs to your apartment.

‘Yea?’, you answered. Dread began to pool inside you as you knew exactly what he was going to ask, the look of pity on his face revealing everything you needed to know.

‘He was just trying to protect you, Tom.’ he glanced behind you at the brunette, who had plopped down on the second stair, his head leaning into his hand, his eyes closed; the sight made your heart flutter and swell with love towards the young actor. ‘He loves you, Y/N. More than he cares to admit, and he’d rather die than watch any harm come to you.’

Tears were building behind your eyes once again, and you nodded fondly at Harrison, knowing that everything he had just said was one hundred percent accurate. Tom was absolutely, head over heels, in love with you, and he told you almost every opportunity he could get.

You smiled at the blonde in front of you, ‘Thank you, Harrison.’, before closing the car door and turning around, walking towards your now sleeping boyfriend. You shook his shoulder lightly, rousing him from his nap on your front porch, ‘Tom, baby, let’s go inside.’, you suggested, smiling down at the dazed brown eyes below you.

Tom stared back up at you from his seat on the porch. He raised his hands up, an indication that he wanted to hold yours, and you were more than happy to oblige, reaching down you placed your hand delicately in his. He carefully brought his lips to your palm, keeping his eyes locked on yours, before placing gentle kisses along the inside of your hand and up your wrist. He pulled lightly until you were standing in between his knees, your hands resting lazily against his back and playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

Tom’s arms wrapped gently around your waist, and this time the burning sensation was kept at bay because you knew you had nothing to fear. You brought your hand around to trace along his jawline, tilting his chin up to look at you once again. ‘I love you, Tom.’, you whispered, placing a light kiss against his chapped lips. He was slow to respond, but eventually his lips pressed back against your own, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist pulling your body closer to his own.

He pulled away, bringing one hand out to rest upon your hand on his cheek, he leaned into your touch, turning his face to press a kiss to the inside of your hand, ‘I love you so much more, my love.’ His arms pulled you closer to him, his head burying itself into your stomach causing you to chuckle slightly as one of your hands rubbed up and down his back, the other finding its way to his curls. ‘I promise I’ll always protect you.’, he muttered faintly against your shirt.

Tears welled up in your eyes at the pure love expressed in his tone. The all too familiar burning sensation was once again creeping through your veins except this time it didn’t hurt; it calmed you, it completed you, and it loved you. In fact, the burning sensation didn’t burn at all, it healed you.

#spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fandom #spiderman imagine #Spider-Man: Homecoming #Harry Holland #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfeild imagine #what a way to go #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine masterlist #Avengers #avengers imagine #Avengers infinity war #avengers endgame #zendaya #harrison osterfield imagine

[shreddedparchment]

Parallel Pt.02

Heartbroken

11/18/2018

Pairing: Steve x Reader          Word Count: 2,674

Masterpost          Warnings: Angst, language

A/N: I’m in that head space when these new stories are kinda writing themselves. Anyway, I hope you like this little chapter. I mean, I cried? So...yeah...As always, if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Nervous is how you feel the entire flight from Australia to Norway.

When you land, it's dusk and the horizon burns red orange as the sky above slowly shifts from deep purple to an inky black.

The color of the coming night reminds you of your face. Your black eye is pretty terrible to look at and you keep getting stares as you exit the small airport.

The next stop is a boat.

You miss being able to fly places yourself. This time of year, when fall is turning to winter, Norway’s biting cold shocks your system. You miss the warm Australian atmosphere, but you keep Thor in mind. Getting back to him is all that matters.

So, you steel yourself against the inconveniences of having to take a cab to your boat and then ride a boat for an hour in cold waters to get to the Lofoten Islands.

A sharp knock on the glass of the front viewport startles you. The kind and excited Norwegian boat Captain points to the left.

“Se! Sølvbyen!” He smiles a toothy grin.

You follow the indicated direction and your jaw drops. Slowly you rise and move to stand in the doorway that leads out to the deck.

New Asgard, this New Asgard, even in the fading twilight shines like a beautiful polished silver jewel nestled on tall green and white cliffs.

This New Asgard is at least ten times larger than the New Asgard you spent time in with Thor. His palace rises high into the sky, reflecting the stars and moonlight making the whole city look like an enchanted fairyland.

So different. It's all so different. How can it all be so much better for everyone else and not you?

The city falls from view as the boat approaches the base of the cliff and docks at a large station. There are tons of people disembarking off of small boats like your own, but a larger ship brings streams of excited Norwegians and tourists, all of them following the dock up towards a beautiful wood and steel staircase that leads up to a smaller station with what looks like elevators.

You look at the captain with a quizzical brow, “Why are there so many people?”

“De er her for feiringen.” He says with a small laugh, thinking you stupid for not knowing.

You quickly sift through the Norwegian you know, trying to translate in your head as fast as possible. “Feiring? Celebration? What celebration?”

The captain laughs at you, thinking you’re joking and waves you off.

You slowly limp off of the boat, drawing your jacket up higher around your white tee. Jeans and a tee were a terrible choice for Norway.

“Lykke til.” The captain calls out to you and you watch him pull out and sail back into the night.

With no other choice than to move with the crowd, you slowly follow the flow of the bodies that laugh and joke. It’s such a babble of languages that you can’t pick out one from another.

The queue at the elevators is long but moves quickly. You wait only ten minutes before you shove your way onto one of the large glass boxes, reinforced with steel and wood. This New Asgard is definitely much more well off than the small humble one you'd enjoyed with Thor.

You move straight to the back of the box and turn, carefully using your arms to block people from jostling you. Your ribs, as you had suspected are indeed broken, fractured actually which is not as bad but they still fucking hurt.

Funnily enough, it feels reminiscent of your first injuries at Avengers compound when the Shadow had attacked looking for the serum and you’d spent the following week limping around with a cane for an injured leg, broken ribs, and small cuts.

It feels strange that you seem to have almost the exact same injuries even though this is a much different reality.

“I hope they have lots of food. I’m starving.”

“Are you kidding? A celebration of this size? I doubt they’ll run out of anything. These Asgardians are really generous.”

You peek over the shoulder of an older lady on your left and spot two girls, no older than sixteen or so, giggling excitedly.

“Do you think we'll get to see him?” The blonde girl asks.

“Thor?” Asks the brunette. “Duh, it's his celebration.”

Your heart begins to pound at the mention of your husband and you quickly push your way closer to the two girls. The offended older woman in front of you gasps and pushes back slightly making your ribs burn.

“Personally, I hope I get a look at Loki…he’s so hot.” The brunette confesses.

The blonde glares at her friend. “Ew, Lisa, after what he did to New York how can you even stand to look at that creep?”

“Hey, people change.”

“Excuse me.” You swallow hard, eager to get some info on Thor.

The two girls turn to look at you, slightly surprised, the blonde still frowning about her friend's love for Loki.

“You said this celebration is for Thor? What exactly are they celebrating?” You ask, a small uncertain smile plastered on your beaten face.

The two girls exchange a long look as if they cannot believe that anyone who is here would not know what the Asgardians are celebrating.

As the elevator doors open and people begin to file out the blonde turns her gaze back to you looking slightly crestfallen.

“Its for Thor's engagement. He’s going to marry the Lady Sif.” The blonde sighs sadly.

Her words freeze you, you’re not here, where are you? Numbness fills your chest and once again you have no beating heart. This can’t be happening.

As the girls leave you to your numbness you watch as the brunette rubs the blonde's shoulder comforting her friend at the tragic loss of her crush.

Almost as if you’re floating, you drift out of the elevator and trudge painfully through the crowd.

Asgardians are lined up along the road from the elevators to welcome the tourists, but you don’t give them a glance. You're too busy trying to keep your shit together. You force yourself to move faster along the beautiful cobble road. Trying to ignore the pain as you pass street vendors in old wooden and stone type stalls to fit the Asgardian aesthetic. Lanterns light up the streets and music plays from almost every building giving the city a laid back, party vibe.

Laughter floats around you in harsh contrast to the agony you slowly feel is beginning to consume you.

You continue to follow the flow of the crowd. Asgard is massive and there are so many people everywhere. Is this the glory that Thor had spoken of? Was this the might of Asgard?

Slowly you begin to recognize the twists of the streets as the ones you walked so long ago with Thor and the people of Asgard. You turn right and pass the smithy you'd first seen on your visit with Thor. Then the school and then the Tavern. The door swings open and raucous laughter floats out intermixed with music and the clinking of steins.

You turn your eyes to Thor's palace as it grows closer and the crowd begins to get thicker until finally, about a hundred yards from the front stairs that Thor had once presented you to his people on, you find yourself unable to get closer.

You strain against the mixture of Asgardians and tourists trying to get a little higher to see but you're saved the trouble as Thor moves up a few steps before he stops and offers his hand to someone below and out of sight.

The sight of him hits you like the sharp bite of a snake. Its piercing and sudden and painful. But he’s still so beautiful. His hair is still short, and his beard is thick. His blue eyes sparkle as he waits for the person he beckons.

That should be you. He should be reaching for you.

A milky white hand moves up from the base of the stairs, reaching for Thor. The hand is followed by the regal form of an Asgardian woman with dark brown hair that falls in cascading waves along her back. Her dress is silver, floor-length, and matches the silver embellishments of Thor's new armor. Hair her is pinned back with beautiful shining opal berets to keep it from falling in her face.

She definitely looks the part of Thor's betrothed, much more than you ever did. It hurts, and you reach up to clutch at the base of your chest.

For a moment you can’t breathe. “No.”

Your whisper draws the attention of an Asgardian woman who turns to glare at you.

Stupid Midgardian woman objecting to Thor's marriage to a true Asgardian? How dare you?

But that’s where you belong. She's in your spot!

Thor takes her hand and wraps it around his left elbow and leads her up to stand at the top of the stairs so that everyone can look on his future bride.

He raises a hand, and everyone goes silent. Although music and laughter continues to flow in from the city behind you, here by the palace, the silence is heavy.

“Thank you all for coming to help me celebrate the choosing of my bride.” He looks at Sif, staring at her with an affection that makes your heart clench. “I am not exaggerating when I say that I have been quite blind for hundreds of years to the clarity that my own mother often expressed. Perfection was before me and I did not see it.”

“Better late than never.” Sif jokes, squeezing his arm.

Thor beams at her and it kills you. This can’t be happening.

“I have often wondered if I would ever find a woman strong enough to rule Asgard at my side and I am glad to say that I have finally found her. Sif, my friend and counsel…my Blossom, I am very happy to present you tonight as the future Queen of Asgard.”

Blossom? Blossom? Did he just call her…you let your gaze fall away from them as your heart shatters to pieces. Grief begins to consume you as you succumb to the agony that you not only lost Thor, but this seals any hope of ever getting your baby girl back.

You shut your eyes and don’t even feel the tears as they fall. As the crowd cheers around you, you turn your gaze back onto Thor’s smiling face and watch him lean down towards Sif's cheek to press a soft kiss. She shuts her eyes, the utter happiness she exudes chokes you. That should be you.

As you watch him happily love his new betrothed, your mind is suddenly filled with his words, spoken on a rooftop in Wakanda what feels ages ago.

“My love, I’m sure that even if we use the watch there must be a way to hold on to what we have. This love between us does not just disappear. And we can make this baby again.”

You'd known then that it would be impossible. It was a fool’s hope. You’d wanted to believe that you and Thor could weather any storm. That even if the universe separated you that somehow, you and he would find your way back to each other. You'd feared this outcome. You’d dreaded it. You'd had nightmares about it and here it is in shocking reality. Thor doesn’t care for you anymore. He’s moved on. Your baby girl is nothing but a blip in your own memory and as you think about her, tiny and perfect, kicking you from within, your face crumbles.

Thor suddenly turns to look over the crowd and for a terrifying moment, you feel like his eyes find you. For two seconds he stares in your direction. Embarrassment and pain drive your gaze down.

You wait a moment then chance a glance back up at him and Sif but they’re no longer standing by the stairs. They’re moving into the palace as the crowd begins to disperse around you to join the many small celebrations going on throughout the city.

You’re left standing in the middle of the road, alone and without hope, crying because what else can you do? You pass your hands over your stomach and your pain is renewed stronger.

With a quivering lip you look back up towards the palace doors and consider going up there and knocking on the damn door.

But doing that would require you have some hope and you don't.

If Thor really did spot you in the crowd and if he did recognize you, then he either doesn’t remember your life together or he doesn’t care.

Six months. Six blissful months before he left, that was all this version of you had. Without the Snap he has no reason to seek you out, just as you feared.

Suddenly a stout Asian man wearing dark red robes steps into your view.

You look up at the body's face and find Wong's furrowed brow staring down at you from the top of the stairs.

There's something off about his gaze however and you see the spark of recognition in his eyes.

Already embarrassed, you have no desire to be seen at the moment and you have the terrible idea that Wong might take you up to meet with Thor and at this particular moment when you’re just beginning the mourning of the husband and daughter you’ve lost, it's tantamount to torture to see him.

You turn quickly and move to head back towards the elevators so that you can get the hell off of this island.

You only get a few feet, thanks to your stupid leg and ribs, when orange sparks startle you into stopping. The orange sparks grow out and wide until they’re a clearly defined circle.

Through this circle you can see a large room with a large staircase and a large glass wall with rooms beyond. The room is mostly made of dark woods and the occasional brass embellishments, but you can also see comfortable red chairs, tables, and decorations like vases and statues.

None of the Asgardians seem to be paying the portal any mind. A few of the tourists look over with curiosity but go back to their celebrating after staring for a bit.

“Vex? You should not be here.” The accented voice comes from behind you.

You turn to look at Wong as he moves towards you, his eyes kinder bit still narrowed in confusion.

You quickly reach up to wipe at your tears as he closes the distance between you and stops with his hands on his hips.

“What did you just call me? How do you know that name?” You demand, hating the way hearing your old pseudonym fills you with what you’d just abandoned, hope.

“I am a Master of the Mystic Arts. I would not forget you easily. I’m sorry to say that others were not so lucky.” He’s talking about Thor.

Your eyes water again as you struggle with your aching heart.

“Why did you come here?” He opens his arms as he shrugs, struggling to understand your motives.

“I-I didn’t know that he was engaged.” You admit and feel your sorrow double as you finally say it aloud.

Wong sighs. “Come on, this is not a place for you anymore.”

His words cut you and you sob as you look over his shoulder at the palace doors. Betrayal courses through your body even though you know that Thor isn’t deliberately abandoning you. He just doesn’t remember ever loving you as much as he did.

“Come.” Wong places his hand on your shoulder and helps turn you back towards the portal.

As you limp through it and the portal begins to close, you watch as the palace doors open and with curiosity twisting his expression, Thor moves back out, watching as you and Wong disappear.

@until-theend-oftheline @jessieray98 @dsakita @coldfacedwarf @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @myfandomlife-blog @wishingforahome @theonelittleone @aireka-frnc @oursameoldlove @wintersoldierswhore @keithseabrook27 @jewelofwinter @markusstraya @sincerelytlh @rumoured-whispers @thehatredofshipprick @the-surviving-revolutionist @fairislesheets @mannls @moonlessnight14 @pandazlazykid @donner5822

#steve #steve rogers #steven grant rogers #steve x reader #steve x reader fic #steve x reader fanfic #steve x reader fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fanfiction #captain america x reader #steve x reader insert #steve x you #steve x y/n #thor x reader #marvel au #avengers x reader #wong #new asgard #parallel #parallel pt2 #ashes to ashes universe

[stringergames]

Strahd: Ismark, I’m asking your permission to date Ireena.

Ismark: What is this, the dark ages? You know what? Since you’ve asked, no you can’t. Beat me in a duel first.

#edge of night #edge of night pod #edge of night incorrect #incorrect quotes #curse of strahd #dnd #dnd 5e #countess strahd #strahd von zarovich #ismark kolyana #ireena kolyana #paladin #source: tumblr #no light queue shine can pierce the dark

[missameliasmithers]

The Aforementioned Sokai Demon AU

“I Was Dead When I Woke Up This Morning” 

-Sora gets possessed by a demon and seeks out the mage (Kairi) that is rumored to work miracles

Read on AO3

“Well, well,” his demon hummed. “What do we have here?”

“Be silent,” Sora mumbled, valiantly attempting to fight the lush creeping to his cheeks. “Slink back into your shadows.”

The hunter had spent the better half of the lunar phase in search of her –and two winters before simply chasing whispers. The sages and holy-men had been next-to-useless, the herbal women ineffective, and the soothsayers charlatans. She was his last hope.

He had heard rumors once or twice in passing before the possession, of the apprentice mage who appeared saturated in light. Gifted, he’d heard, blessed with an old magic. Capable of great feats.

Another cheat, he remembered assuming.

Now however, with the clawing talons of this monstrous darkness embedding themselves deeper into his soul, now he would try anything.

The nearer he got to her village, the more murmurs he caught. A miracle worker, some said. A gift from the Gods Almighty. An angel of innocence and health. The best white mage in millennia. He just hoped she was as good as they all claimed.

He found her hut with no trouble, not because of its size or splendor –as it was a humble lodging—but from the throng outside her door. Thirty heads was his estimate, and since he never had been one to mill about in a queue, he trotted off to the tavern to lose some hours in a bottle.

He returned as the sun was caressing the horizon and abided in the shadows of a maple as he waited for her final patrons to leave. He was rewarded two sun-marks later, when the hutch opened and a middle-aged woman stepped out, bowing and throwing exuberant praise over her shoulder as she left. A smaller figure in hooded red robes followed her out, waving farewell to the departing woman before snuffing out the lantern beside the threshold.

Closed for the night.

But one more patient.

Sora pushed himself off the tree and glided toward the mage’s hut. The soft rap of his knuckles on the door could barely be called a knock, but it served to alert his presence.

The robed figure was on the far side of the room –which was not a great distance considering the size of the dwelling—stooped over a large, open tome on a modest wood table. At the sound of his entrance, the figure raised its covered head.

“I’m sorry, but I’m closed for—oh!” She stopped in her tracks when her eyes landed on him, apparently as startled at his appearance as he was with hers.

She was certainly not what he had been expecting. He had envisioned this mage to be a withery old woman, or at the very least someone his senior. The face that greeted him from under the hood however, was a fresh-faced woman, perhaps a year or two beneath himself. She had ruby hair and shining eyes that seemed to glow and pierce him in the lamplight.

There was nothing outwardly spectacular about her –though admittedly she was quite visually striking—yet she emanated a sort of… light. No candle adorned her, nor did she wear crushed pearls as the court ladies did. A natural warmth seemed to seep out of her very being, and it made Sora want to move closer. To bask in her.

The demon in him roused in piqued curiosity and uncoiled like a serpent around his heart.

“My shadows are yours,” he rumbled. “You want her.”

Sora’s blood was on fire, racing to his chest, his face, his—

“I want no such thing.”

The demon huffed. “Are you not yet sick of denial, hunter?”

Sora allowed himself a steadying breath to keep his voice from wavering as he finally spoke.

“I realize you’ve stopped seeing patrons for the evening,” he said, “but I could not wait until dawn.”

“I can see that,” the woman said, her tone light despite the his rather impolite intrusion. “I don’t blame you. With that creature rasping in your ear all day, I’m sure I’d be tired of it as well.”

Sora’s eyes widened. “How did—?”

“I can feel the darkness from here,” she said, gesturing at his torso –at his heart. “You’ve got an impressive demon inside you, stranger.”

“Sora,” he said. “My name is Sora.”

“Kairi,” she supplied. Stepping from behind the table, she gestured to the tea table in the centre of the room. “Sit down, Sora. Let’s talk about your demon problem.”

“I would have you know this beast is not of my own making,” he told Kairi over a cup of Camilla.

She smiled. “I sensed as much. How did it come to find you?”

“The tale is brief, though rather grim,” Sora said with a sigh. “I had been out on a hunt and was tracking a boar through the wood. Midway through the brush, a new set of prints appeared –these belonging to a human. It is not uncommon to find travellers lost on the trail, but these were speckled with bloody drops.

“I do not consider myself a man of highest virtue, however I could not in good consciousness leave a wounded man alone in untamed timberland,” Sora said, tracing the rim of his cup. “I followed the tracks and came upon a young page collapsed in the thicket. He appeared to be my year, with a soft face dirtied and blonde hair tangled. His chest labored with breath and his eyes went wide upon seeing me.

“He told me to leave. Begged me to turn around, but crimson gashes littered his forearms and chest, and I could not bear to leave him in such misery. I tried to bandage him, but he protested. ‘I did this to myself,’ he said. ‘I’m trying to rid him of this realm. You must leave while you can!’”

Sora’s throat burned as Kairi continued listening patiently. “I did not understand him at the time. I believed his injuries were causing delirium. I kept trying to help. I attempted to heft him over my shoulder, but he pushed me away. ‘Please leave,’ I remember him saying. His words are forever ingrained in me. ‘I cannot hold him back much longer.’

“And still I stayed.

“Tears began to form in his eyes. ‘This isn’t how it was supposed to happen,’ he said. ‘He was supposed to fade. Now he will persist in you. I’m so sorry.’ And then, with tears staining his cheeks, the page took a final breath and expired.”

Sora inhaled, long and shaky, before letting it out. “My memory after that moment is spotted and full of fog. The last clear recollection I have is waking up in my cabin with a pain in my head and a strong feeling of nausea. A laugh that was not my own rumbled deep inside me and I haven’t been able to be free of him since.”

Kairi offered him a genuine look of sympathy. “That sounds like a dreadful ordeal.”

“Living with him is worse,” he replied.

“We’ll remedy that in time,” she said. “You have a powerful light inside you, Sora. Keep it lit and drive this demon back.”

Sora winced. “I’ve been trying. It’s been getting more difficult to keep him contained. He’s getting stronger. Takes control more often.”

Kairi reached forward and rested her hand on his. “I will help you.”

That enchanting warmth that thawed his bones earlier returned at the contact of her palm. It trickled up his veins and calmed his frayed emotions. He delighted in the pleasant calm.

“Normal exorcism will not work on this form of demon, I’m afraid,” Kairi admitted, setting down her cup. “But I believe if we draw out your light, it will drive the creature from your body.”

Sora put down his cup as well. “How do we do that?” he asked.

“A kind of meditation,” she said, rising to her feet. Sora followed suit. “I will try and share my light to boost your own, but it may take a few tries.”

“I’m willing to try,” the hunter said.

“Come with me, then.”

Kairi led Sora to a different section of her home, this new room simple and modest as the rest. Draperies and shelves lined the walls, and a small pedestal with cushions lay in the middle. A pleasant scent wafted through the air, a sweet incense.

Without hesitation, Kairi climbed up and took a seat on one of the pillows. She gestured to the remaining one across from her.

“Please have a seat.”

Sora did as he was told and once comfortably situated on the cushion, he looked up at Kairi for further instruction.

Her reassuring smile sent a summery rush through him as she outstretched her hands and turned his over.

“It is important that we maintain physical contact during this meditation,” she explained, grazing her fingers along his upturned wrists as she rested her hands on his. “Our auras will be linked during this time and if our contact is broken, we will be left unbalanced. If you are left weakened, your demon could very well take control, perhaps permanently.”

Sora gulped. “Okay.”

“Are you ready?”

Sora raised his head and met Kairi’s gaze. There was no uncertainty in her eyes, rather a proud determination, as if she hadn’t a trace of doubt in her mind that he had the power to vanquish this darkness. It made him feel strong.

He nodded resolutely.

“Then let us begin.”

He was in an unfamiliar land.

All around him was night, yet the moon and the stars had abandoned the sky. The ground beneath his feet was fashioned from glass, glittering and colourful like the windows of a cathedral. The air around him was thick, but he could not decipher what with. He tasted something sweet, but detected sourness and bitter flavour.

“She’s quite something, isn’t she, hunter?”

Sora whirled around to find the image of himself, vastly the same as a reflection, but mutated and contorted into a more twisted version. His normally brown hair had been inked in charcoal, his skin ashed, and his eyes an uncomfortable yellow.

“Leave me alone, demon,” he hissed.

“You are the one who called on me,” the black creature said. “You and that charming mage you are so infatuated with.”

Sora’s face reddened. “I am not infatuated.”

“Foolish boy, you cannot hide your emotions from me,” the demon said. “I am in every crevice of your mind. I know your thoughts. I know your desires. Though I must say, this was a surprise. Who knew you had a tinge of darkness to you as well?”

“You’re the darkness in me!” Sora growled.

“I had thought the same until recently,” the demon admitted. “There were a few times in the past I thought I saw a glint of shadow in you, but you always stamped it out. Now though, oh now it’s abundantly clear.”

Sora scowled. “What are you talking about?”

“I do not blame you for it, of course. It’s quite natural for a healthy male such as yourself. Even a demon such as I cannot begrudge an attraction to a woman so alluring.”

The blood drained from Sora’s face. “I’m not—I don’t—”

“Lust is my favourite deadly sin after all,” the demon continued. “It is a little absurd that a pair of pretty eyes and the brushing of a hand is enough to evoke this strong of a reaction from you, but I’ve seen worse in my years. At least you haven’t released in your britches yet.”

“You’re what’s absurd here!”

“Come now, as I said, it’s quite normal. That light of hers is delectable, after all. I can’t wait to have a taste.”

Sora glowered. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re wavering quite a bit,” the demon grinned. “Just a little longer and I’ll be able to devour that lady myself.”

Sora grasped for the beast, but stumbled through his haze. Turning on his heel, his attempted to punch him, but was awarded the same result. “Don’t you touch her!” he cried.

The demon smirked. “There it is.”

The hands resting below the mage shifted, but held contact. Sora’s fingers inched along soft skin, gently caressing Kairi’s palm as they moved higher to her wrist. The movement caused a smile to tug at her mouth even as she maintained the meditative link. Such an innocent touch, but one that reminded her of a tender presence.

And then the fingers clenched around her wrists possessively and Kairi’s eyes flung open to see a pair of golden eyes.

“Hello, pet.”

“Demon,” Kairi replied.

“Vanitas,” he corrected. “It is a delight to meet you in person, Princess.”

Kairi frowned and the demon chuckled.

“Do not act surprised,” Vanitas said. “I have lived far longer than you mortals can imagine. I could tell the moment my host laid eyes on you that you were a Princess of Heart. I can feel your light surrounding this entire town. Very impressive.”

“How are you here? My and Sora’s light should have kept you contained.”

“That’s the funny thing with light, Princess,” Vanitas said, using his grip on Kairi to pull her closer. “It always casts a shadow.”

“Not if it shines from all directions,” she retorted.

The demon brought his face besides Kairi’s nudging her cheek with his nose and moving his lips to her ear. “And you believe two beams will be enough to eradicate the darkness? I’m afraid not, love.”

Kairi squirmed as a scorching-hot tongue traced her jaw. “Release me, foul creature.”

“Whatever for?” Vanitas smirked. “Both myself and my host are thoroughly enjoying this.”

“Sora would never—”

He nipped her neck. “You have quite a lot to learn about men, my dear.”

Kairi continued to struggle as the demon laved attention to her skin.

“I can’t remember the last time I tasted something so delicious,” he mumbled. “I ought to sever your connection right here and take control of this body, but I am loathe to drag myself away from this feast.”

The mage’s heart stopped. Sora was certainly out of balance if his demon was in control. If Vanitas let her go, their link would break and he would be trapped, a prisoner in his own mind.

Reaching deep into her heart, she concentrated her light. She dredged up every positive thought she could muster, the kindness she sensed in him, her empathy for him and his plight, her desire to save him from this beast. She wrapped it up within itself, folding light into light and sent it soaring through the link.

Please, she whispered, please let this soul find balance again.

When Sora came to, his tongue was licking a stripe up Kairi’s neck.

Springing away, he yelped an apology and ducked his head. His face burned and his mouth held the curious taste of—

“Sora?”

Timidly, he raised his gaze to meet Kairi’s. Her face was flushed and her eyes were searching.

“It is you, isn’t it, Sora?”

“Of course,” he said, blush still flaming. “What happened?”

“It, uh…,” she started, “it didn’t work. Are you feeling alright?”

“Embarrassed,” he said sheepishly, “but otherwise, I’m fine.”

Kairi nodded and closed her eyes for a moment. “I can still feel your light, just as before. Can you sense it?”

“Um.” Sora took a moment to analyse himself. His soul weighed the same as it did when he arrived –not as heavy as it was the day of possession, but not as light as he would like. Still, there was that brightness that lingered inside him, the one that flared whenever he helped people in need, or watched a sunset, or look in Kairi’s eyes.

“Yeah, it’s there,” he concluded.

Kairi looked relieved. “That’s good.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“So it didn’t work, huh?”

She shook her head. “Not this time.”

Gently, Sora grazed his fingers over hers. “Would you mind if we try again?”

#Sokai #kairi #sora #vanitas #demon au #kingdom hearts #I might write more of this #kingdom hearts fanfiction #sokai fanfiction #missameliasmithers fanfiction #fanfiction

[breakable-girls-and-boys]

Bruises

Inspired by this post.

The first time it happened, Holly just thought she’d run into something she didn’t remember running into. It was a fairly large bruise, so it bothered her that she couldn’t remember what she’d managed to run into. She wasn’t the most coordinated person, but she wasn’t super clumsy either.

From time to time, she’d get strange little bruises on her body, but she usually just wrote them off as mystery bruises.

Eventually, she mentioned the bruises to one of her friends at work.

“Jesus, how do I end up with all these bruises? I don’t even remember bumping into anything this week!” Holly said.

Holly’s coworker swiveled around in her chair and said, “You know, my cousin was telling me something the other day. What was it she said… Oh! Supposedly, there are people in the world who, whenever their soulmate gets hurt, or gets a bruise or a cut, the same bruises show up on their skin as well.”

“So you think my mystery bruises are the result of my soulmate getting herself hurt?” Holly asked skeptically.

“It’s possible!”

“Yeah, okay,” she scoffed, returning to her paperwork.

Several weeks went by without another mystery bruise, and so Holly forgot about her worries.

————

Gail was out of breath, but she couldn’t stop now. She watched the suspect round a corner into the alley just ahead and raced after him. From somewhere deep inside herself, she found the ability to push a little harder. She was gaining on him, and he was going down. Lunging forward, she tackled the suspect around the abdomen. Both parties fell to the concrete and skidded into the side of a dumpster. Gail freed her arms from under the suspect and went for her cuffs, but she wasn’t fast enough. The man twisted, his elbow connecting with her jaw and sending her sprawling off of him.

Stunned, Gail attempted to find her bearings and stand, but the suspect had already obtained the edge he needed. He was on his feet and by the time Gail made it to her hands and knees. The suspect landed a hard kick against her ribs, knocking Gail down again. She felt the air leave her and struggled to suck oxygen back into her lungs. Gail felt like a fish out of water: gasping for breath but getting nothing. Her ears were ringing, but she heard faint footsteps on the concrete. She felt something come crashing down across her back. The world was going dark around her, but the last thing she heard before passing out was unmistakable: a single gunshot ringing through the alley.

Gail woke up to a frenzy of doctors and nurses buzzing around her. She tried to pull herself upright as she pawed at the oxygen mask on her face, but one of the staff pushed her back against the hospital bed. He replaced the mask she had set askew.

“You have to lay down and keep that mask on; we don’t know the extent of your injuries yet,” the staff member said. The light was blinding, but Gail could just make out the name on his badge: Tim.

She looked at Tim, who was talking to a paramedic who looked vaguely familiar. Flashes of people swarming around her in the back of an ambulance flooded back to her. She remembered the paramedic’s face hovering over her, asking her questions, but she hadn’t been able to speak.

She watched the two as they spoke.

“She was found down in the alley. Her partner said she was chasing a suspect and had caught up to the guy, said he could hear them fighting as he came around the corner. Apparently the guy picked up a 2x4 and hit her over the back before her partner intervened and shot the guy. We think he probably punched her, too. She has that nasty bruise forming on the left side of her jaw. She’s got a large contusion over her left ribs as well, but no flail segments. The attacker wasn’t a huge guy, but I’d guess around 200 pounds. Lung sounds were clear on the right and diminished on the left. We placed an 18 gauge IV in the left AC and we were able to hang fluids, but that’s about all we had time for,” the paramedic said.

“Okay,” Tim replied. “Thank you.”

The paramedic nodded and started to walk away, and Tim looked back down at her.

“Do you remember what happened?” he asked her.

Gail shook her head ‘no’. She felt something cold moving around on her chest and then something prodded her side and she screamed out in pain.

“Lung sounds are clear on the right, but I’m not hearing anything on the left. I want a chest x-ray in here immediately. Let’s get ready to put in a chest tube once we confirm there’s a left pneumothorax. She’s probably got some broken ribs too.”

Gail couldn’t tell where the voice came from, but she knew it wasn’t good.

“What… h-h-h-hap.…wh-at…h-happened?” Gail managed to speak, but it exhausted her.

Tim looked down at her, almost as if he was surprised to see her lying there.

“You were attacked by the man you were chasing. He beat you up pretty good. You most likely have a collapsed lung and we need to put a tube into your chest to allow your lung to re-inflate,” Tim’s tone softened from “matter-of-fact”, to one of compassion as he continued, “We are doing everything we can.”

It finally occurred to Gail that she was naked in front of all these doctors, but she couldn’t be too self-conscious for long. She felt a needle pierce her skin, but was immediately distracted by someone shining a light in her eyes.

“You’ve got an 18 in the right AC,” was shouted from somewhere in the room.

Whoever was at her head added, “Pupils are equal and reactive.”

Gail lifted her head as much as she could and looked down at her body. IV tubing was connected to both of her arms. From the corner of her eye, she saw something dark on her skin. She looked at her left side, she could see a dark blue-purple color across what she could see of her left side and creeping over her chest and upper abdomen.

Gail laid her head back on the bed and closed her eyes, she focused on the pain throughout her body, letting it remind her that she was still alive.

————

Gail used Oliver’s phone to look at the damage to her face. She had a busted lip and a bruise across the left side of her jaw. It hurt to open her mouth. She’d been able to peek at her left side earlier; almost her entire left side was one big bruise from her hip to her armpit. There was a tube with gauze around it coming out of her chest, Tim had told her it was there to keep her lung from collapsing again and to drain any blood in her chest caused by the trauma. She’d been told by one of the nurses that she also had a bruise in the shape of a 2x4 across her back. Everything hurt.

“You should have waited for me,” Oliver said. He hadn’t looked at her since he’d walked in the room. He was currently staring at his feet.

“You were taking your sweet ass time, and I totally had him,” Gail said.

“Seriously, Gail, he could have killed you. I couldn’t live with myself if-if-if…”

“I’m a Peck, we don’t go down easy,” Gail joked, but the single laugh she let out hurt, and she cringed.

Oliver sighed. “Just, promise me you won’t do this again. You scared the shit out of me, kid.”

Gail looked him in the eye as she said, “I promise.”

Oliver had been at the hospital as long as she’d been there, by her side whenever the doctors would let him in the room. He looked exhausted.

“Go home, Ollie. I’m okay. I promise not to die if you go home.” Gail smirked through the pain.

Oliver put his hand on her shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, smiling.

————

Holly woke up sore. Her first thought was, I need to stop sleeping on the couch. She sat herself up and stretched. Immediately pain coursed through her side and she doubled over. She winced and let out a moan and felt a sting in her lip and an ache in her jaw. The fuck? she thought, What the hell happened?

She sat there while the pain in her side dulled down to a bearable ache. When she was ready, Holly got up and walked to the bathroom. What greeted her in the mirror shocked her.

The left side of Holly’s face was bruised and she had a fat bottom lip with a gash down the left side. How did that even happen? Holly recalled her activities last night: she came home from work, drew herself a bath and poured one glass of wine. After that, she remembered curling up on the couch to watch one of the documentaries in her Netflix queue. She remembered waking up at one point and changing it to Friends before falling back asleep.

A horrifying thought crept into her mind. Had she been robbed? Holly ran to her front door. The door was locked and the dead bolt was in place. She looked around her living room, but nothing was out of place. She took a deep, calming breath in, but gasped as she felt pain shoot through her chest. She put her hand to her left side and winced again. Holly lifted her shirt up to expose the giant bruise covering her left side.

Something was not right. Could it be cancer? That would explain the bruises, but not the busted lip. She needed answers, and she needed them now. She grabbed her jacket, her phone, and her keys and all but ran out the door.

————

Holly sat in the ER room waiting for her nurse to come back. They’d looked her over, found another bruise across her back. They drew her blood and asked her really weird questions, like had she been attacked by a caucasian man wielding a 2x4 who was about 6’2”, 200 pounds, with black hair, and medium build? She answered no, and the nurse walked out with a weird look on his face.

All the tests came back negative. Her x-ray was clear. The doctor had no answers for her.

Her nurse came back with her discharge papers. He stopped short as he was handing her the papers.

“I want to show you something. I think… I think it might be your answer,” the nurse said.

“But all my results came back negative,” Holly said.

“This isn’t any sort of medical test. And actually, if I show you, I’d be breaking like a ton of privacy laws, but I think it’s something you need to see,” he replied.

Holly was hesitant, but she also wanted answers. She nodded her head and followed the man out of the room.

He lead her down a hallway, to a set of elevators. They went up several levels and walked down another hallway. They stopped at a private room, the door was open, but the curtain was drawn. The nurse gestured for her to wait, and then he walked into the room and whispered to the person inside.

Holly looked around the floor, it was quiet and the lights were dim. But then again, it was almost 2:00 am.

The nurse popped back out from behind the curtain, held his finger to his lips in a motion to tell her to keep quiet, and gestured for her to enter the room.

Holly walked slowly, not sure what she would find behind the curtain. She didn’t even know what she should be expecting.

Holly opened the curtain enough to walk into the room and let it fall closed behind her. Laying on the bed was a woman. She had bleach blonde hair, piercing eyes, and a big, purple bruise on her face that matched Holly’s perfectly. She also had a fat, busted lip, just like Holly.

Holly looked at the woman, and then back at the nurse.

“I’m sorry, but what is going on here?” Holly asked.

The nurse looked at Gail, as if asking for permission. The woman nodded her head.

“There are some people who believe that the unexplainable cuts and bruises we get are the result of injuries sustained by our soulmate,” the man said.

“That’s scientifically impossible,” Holly replied.

“I was skeptical too, once. Until it happened to my sister. By chance she ran into a man with the exact same bruises on him, in the exact same locations. They tested the theory by having his best friend punch him in the arm. Sure enough, right after his bruise appeared, she got one in the same spot. All she’d been doing was sitting on the couch watching,” he said. “You and Gail have the exact same bruises. Yours have no explanation.”

Gail cleared her throat and both the nurse and Holly turned to look at her. She looked at the nurse and nodded her head toward the door. The man left the room. Silence ensued for what felt like hours. Gail just looked at Holly, as if she was trying to figure her out. Holly looked anywhere but at Gail.

“You’re a nerd, aren’t you?” Gail finally broke the silence.

“What?” Holly asked, incredulously.

“You like nerdy things, like science and math and shit. You’re a nerd. You’re probably some sort of scientist.”

“I’m a forensic pathologist,” Holly answered. She looked Gail over, trying to figure out what she was getting at.

“I’m sorry,” Gail spoke softly.

Holly’s mouth fell agape, she didn’t understand the apology. She didn’t know what this woman was trying to get at. Maybe she’s high on pain meds? Holly thought.

The woman pressed on, “I’m sorry I caused you pain. I didn’t—” She stopped to take a breath, which looked painful, and continued, “I didn’t know that my injuries were affecting you. If I had, maybe… maybe I’d have been more careful. Okay, that’s probably not true, but. I’m still sorry I hurt you.”

Holly took half a step forward.

“You didn’t—” Gail held her hand up, cutting Holly off mid-sentence.

“You got hurt because I got hurt,” Gail stated.

“This is… this is crazy. I mean, it’s not physically possible,” Holly said. “There is no… this can’t… how? How is this possible?”

“Magic? Fairies? The gods are messing with us? I don’t know. All I know is that I got the shit kicked outta me and then Tim comes in here saying this woman has the exact same bruises I do. There is no logical explanation.”

“It’s not possible,” Holly repeated.

“We could test it,” Gail said.

“What?”

“Test it. Like, give me a bruise and see what happens to you,” Gail said.

“No, that’s ridiculous,” Holly began, but Gail had already started pinching her arm and twisting the skin.

“What are you doing?” Holly asked, stepping toward the bed with her arm out, as if to stop the woman from hurting herself.

“I’m testing this theory. What do we have to lose?” Gail replied.

Holly stood there waiting, for what, she wasn’t quite sure. Did she really think these matching bruises were from this woman? That this Gail was her soulmate? She is cute, Holly thought briefly before shaking her head. No, this was not possible. Soulmates are just something sold to society by movies and TV. She was a woman of science. This is not how the world works.

Gail watched to woman silently struggle with her thoughts. It’d been a couple minutes, so she looked back at her arm. There was a small red spot where she’d pinched herself.

“Look at your arm,” Gail said.

Holly looked down, and sure enough, she had a small red spot in the same location.

“What the fuck?” Holly exclaimed, then quickly threw her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to speak so loudly.

Gail laughed at the other woman’s reaction, but that laugh was quickly followed by a wince at the pain it caused.

Holly rushed to the bed, but stopped short of reaching out towards the woman.

“Are you okay?” Holly asked. She was suddenly unsure of what to do with herself, so she fiddled with her fingers.

“Laughing hurts. Moving hurts. Breathing hurts. But I’ll live, or at least that’s what they tell me,” Gail replied.

“This is… you know this is crazy, right?” Holly asked.

“Life is pretty crazy,” Gail said, smirking.

Holly was staring at her hands as she continued to wring them. Gail reached out to stop the movement, but she did not release the other woman’s hands.

“So,” Gail began, “I, uh, I guess this means we’re soulmates.”

Holly stared at the other woman. She didn’t even know where to begin with information this life-altering.

It was as if Gail read Holly’s mind, because she patted the bed next to her and said, “Sit down. We should probably start by getting to know each other.”

Without letting go of Gail’s hand, Holly took a seat on the edge of the bed.

————

“Don’t you dare tell Holly,” Gail said. She followed her stern warning with a pointed look at her partner. Oliver just laughed at her and shook his head.

She was sitting in the back of an ambulance being checked over by paramedics. They gave her the all clear, warned her she’d be sore, and sent her on her way.

She and Oliver walked back to their squad. Well, Gail more limped than actually walked.

“You have got to stop chasing perps,” Oliver told her. “I can’t keep bailing you outta trouble.”

“I had him the whole time,” Gail said, climbing into the passenger seat.

“Only because he tripped,” Oliver said, teasingly. “Even then he still managed to get the drop on you.”

Gail crossed her arms defiantly over her chest and stared out the window while Oliver drove. She had been chasing a burglary suspect through a park when he tripped and fell. But before she could get on top of him to cuff him, he managed to get onto his side and he shoved her. Gail had stumbled backward and fell hard against a retaining wall. The back of her right leg hit with the top of the wall and she toppled over it onto the rock. A large lump was beginning to form on the back of her thigh and she had some minor scrapes on her arms and hands. She swore up and down she hadn’t hit her head, but the sergeant had insisted she be checked out by EMS.

Oliver and Gail were still jokingly arguing as they walked into the precinct to finish up their paperwork when a stern voice rang out.

“GAIL ELIZABETH PECK!”

“Oh shit,” Ollie said, barely stifling his giggle. “You got middle-named. You’re in trouble!” he singsonged.

Gail froze in her tracks and her pale skin managed to pale even more. Slowly she turned to face her fate.

Holly made a beeline straight for her, grabbed her by the arm and marched her to an interrogation room.

“What the hell is that about?” Traci asked Oliver.

“Oh, Gail just got injured on the job and stupidly thought Holly wouldn’t notice,” Oliver said, chuckling.

————

Holly slammed the door behind her, cringing at the sound. She hadn’t meant to be so forceful, but she was not happy. She locked the door.

“What the hell is this?” Holly asked, as she pulled her jeans down to reveal a massive bruise forming on the back of her thigh. She pulled up her sleeves to reveal several abrasions to her arms and hands.

“I’m fine, I swear,” Gail answered. “I was chasing a perp and he pushed me. Best made me get checked out and the medics said I was fine. Okay?”

Holly still looked mad. Gail put on her best apology face and cautiously approached her wife.

“I promise you, I’m fine. Ollie had my back the whole time,” Gail said. She put her hands on Holly’s arms and looked her in the eye. “I’m okay.”

Holly searched Gail’s eyes for the truth, and when she found it, allowed her wife to hold her, her face finding its way into Gail’s neck.

“Stop scaring me like that,” Holly pleaded.

“I’m okay,” Gail soothed as she rubbed Holly’s back. “I promise.”

#gail peck #holly stewart #golly #rookie blue #fanfiction #my writing #fanfic #i wrote this so long ago and never posted it and i'm sorry i'm a piece of garbage #hope you like it #my fic

[drowned-pathetic-rat]

~ johnny

~3.5k words

You weren't supposed to come into work today. You were supposed to be at home, sipping a warm mug of tea and half paying attention to late night television as you doze off on your sofa. Your coworker, however, had called in sick last minute. The phone call with your boss was dreadful, and you dragged yourself out to the café. Each step out of your apartment was heavy, already bored beyond belief.  

You loved your job, you really did. It was just Tuesday nights you hated it, because Tuesday nights were open mic night.  

Instead of the regular small yet talented artist that had booked and auditioned to play, it was anybody who wanted to stand on a stage for even just a moment. Sure, there we're the occasional good acts. Comedians that got a few good laughs, musicians that didn't completely ruin the atmosphere. That was sadly a rare occasion.  

You unlocked the front door and step into the café, sunset sending a pinkish glow in and onto the brick walls. Your boss' smiling face greeted you from the stage, where he was setting up the stage, fiddling with the microphone. You sent him a returning smile, making your way to the counter.  

"So, you're the replacement," your coworker laughed, tossing you an apron as you hung up your coat.  

"Sadly," you drawl.  

"Hey," she tutted her tongue, "it won't be that bad, my friend convinced a classmate of his to come perform, and apparently he's really good."

"That's one act out of many," you return. Despite your disappointed tone, the mention of a good performance peaked your interest, and your mind explored the possibilities as you prepare the cafe for opening. When the clock hit 7 PM, the doors were unlocked, and within the hour the place was filling. You slaved over the tables, refilling coffees and clearing plates, trying your best to ignore whatever act was on stage.  

The night went along, poets spoke their words into a silent crowd, a guitarist strummed a song for a few minutes and a jazz saxophonist confused the small crowd. However, none of it was of note, and you found it hard to put yourself in the shoes of everyone who came to watch. What was the appeal of open mic night?

A singer stepped on stage, a wide smile on his face, but your attention had been drawn to the door, the chimes above it ringing softly as a tall, dark haired man stumbled in.  

His cheeks were red and he had a scarf wrapped warmly around him. He appeared to be confused and in a panic. Glancing around, there we're no tables that needed tending, so you walked up to him.  

"Good evening, welcome." You recite, keeping your voice quiet as the singer begins.  

"Is it still open mic?" He huffs, still trying to catch his breath.  

"Yes, of course, all night." A smile tugs at the corner of your lips. Did he run here? "Are you here to perform?" He nods, shoulders lowering sheepishly. His face catches the shimmering candlelight from the tables, lighting up his handsome features.  

"The signup sheet is over there," you point to beside the stage to the DJ booth, where the staff was close to dozing off, "and then you can take a seat anywhere and I can get you something to drink."

He nods his thanks and you watch as his tall figure goes to the booth and slouches over it, writing.  

You have to snap mind back to reality when you realize your face held a soft smile.  

A few minutes later, once the singer finishes on stage and the clapping falls quiet, your coworker stepped up beside you as you were brewing a cup of coffee.  

"That handsome guy that walked in?" she started, smiling widely.  

"Yeah?"

"That's the classmate, I asked him when I took his order." She pulls a ceramic cup from the shelf and sets to work, giddy.  

"Do you know what he's going to perform?"  

"Piano."

This catches your attention. It wasn't often someone played the piano on open mic night, but it was almost always a stellar performance.  

The two of you work in silence for a moment until the sound of a plate falling and shattering sounds out from behind you. You both sigh.  

"I'll get that," she pushes the cup, now full of coffee to you. "Can you bring this to table 9?"  

You nod, and she grabs the broom and scurries off.

The cafe falls silent, apart from a light chatter and you soon finishing up your own table's order and grab both cups.  

Avoiding the area of the plate crash, you drop off the first cup and make your way to table 9.  

It was the handsome piano player, he was leaning over the table, reading a small pile of sheet music carefully. You tried to be quiet as you place the cup down on the table, but he still looks up, muttering a thank you.  

You stand still for a moment. You don't want to just walk away, but you were working, so you couldn't chat. Besides, he looked busy. You tried to lift the anchors from your feet to walk away when he says something you couldn't quite hear.  

"Pardon?" You hum, leaning forwards slightly.  

"Do you know if this crowd likes ballads or pop more?" He turns to face you, brow furrowed in thought.  

"Uhm-" You could only blink in response. You hadn't been paying enough attention to know.  

"Sorry, I've never performed at an open mic before, I just want to give the best show for the crowd that I can." His lips curved into a worried but sweet smile. "Tuesday crowds are usually pretty easy, as long as you're decent they'll love it." You try to reassure him.  

His shoulders shake with a small laugh.  

“Thank you, I’ll be sure not to disappoint.” He nods. Your boss steps onto stage and calls out the next act, and you take that as your queue to leave and get back to work, but the entire time, you anticipate the man’s performance.  

Eventually, just over an hour passes. The painful comedian takes a seat after their applause, and your boss steps on stage. By now, business had calmed down, and you could take a rest, sitting on the glossy wooden barstools by the counter and watching the acts. You watch your boss approach the microphone and smile.  

“Thank you, Kevin, always a regular with the jokes.” He addresses the last performer briefly, as he always does before announcing the next. You sit on the edge of the stool. With every performance, you know it’s closer to the handsome piano guy’s turn, and when you look across the dimly lit café, you can tell he knows too. His hands are folded in his lap and his leg is shaking. “Next we have a newcomer to the café, with a fresh sound.”  

I can see the man sit up straight at my boss’s words.  

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Johnny Seo on Piano.”  

There was a gentle, applause and I could feel the intrigue of the café's crowd grow tenfold.  

The man, who you now know as Johnny rose from his chair, and fumbled to grab the music sheets. He walked confidently to the stage and up the stairs, taking passing glances at the crowd. At one point his eyes meet yours and he smiles, and you can tell despite his bold stride, he is nervous. You smile back, you couldn’t help it. He makes it up to the stage and awkwardly grabs the mic from the stand.  

“Hi,” he waved slightly. A few chuckles came from the crowd. “I’m Johnny, yeah. Hi.” He said, grinning awkwardly. He stood still for a moment, frozen in place and you watched closely with curious eyes.  

Finally, he turns around and takes the mic with him to the piano, sitting down and fitting into the stand that leans over the keyboard. He messes with the sheets for a moment, and pressed a single key on the piano, letting the sound ring out into the café. Unlike the other acts, the crowd was silent for Johnny. Watching, waiting. Not a single dish moved, and nobody made a sound.  

Johnny took a deep breath in, adjusting his posture and lifting his arms gracefully to the ivory keys, you can almost hear the sound of his fingertips meeting the cold material, and his breath falter as he exhales. He closes his eyes for a second, as if analyzing the deafening silence, his face a mere silhouette from the lights on the stage. He has yet to play a song, but you could tell that this man was an artist.  

It was then, so suddenly, as you were painting a permanent mental picture of this moment, he began to play. Warm, overlapping, gentle chords floated delicately through the air, heavy with emotion so sharp it could pierce your skin. A melody lilted easily through the droning chords, the emotion of it untraceable, but quickly and naturally understood. The song flowed along, building and withdrawing, and you focused intently on watching his eyes as they scanned the sheets. If the café was silent and still before, it was bouncing lively, but the only thing that moved was the music. It took up so much space that the people had none left and everybody was frozen. There was no room for any other noise. This man’s piano notes we’re the only thing in this café, and to you, the only thing in the world. It was magical. For a moment, the sound ceased, your heart lurched and time seemed to slow.  

His hands we’re floating just above the keys, and his eyes had shifted to the crowd with a sharp, precise movement. They we’re analyzing, calculating something, and you didn’t quite understand, until his fingers hit the keys again, and the sound proceeded. It was the same song, but so different. Your tear your vision away from the hypnotic motions of his hands and to his eyes, and to your surprise, they were not looking at the sheets in front of him. The song had transformed because he was no longer playing it. His eyes danced through the candlelit crowd, eyes glowing, ignited with passion.  

Then it was over. It was gone, and it must have taken the crowd with it, because there was once again only silence. Johnny looked over the crowd, the shine still lingering in his eyes, but upon the extended silence, it faded. He laughed nervously, and reached up to pull the mic closer. His hands were shaking.  

“Uh, should I play something more upbeat? I think-” he was cut off by as loud an applause a group of thirty people could produce, and a huge smile appeared on his face. The mic picked up on a shy laugh from him over the applause, and you felt your heart flutter. His smile stays bright until the clapping dies down, and he laughs when the audience keep watching in anticipation.  

“Another!” a voice calls out.  

“Okay!” Johnny agrees happily within a heartbeat. “Can I?” He turns offstage to where your boss stood, and he nodded, waving an arm to Johnny.  

“You’re the last one on the list, you can play until closing if you like.” The only reply your boss got was a confident smile from Johnny, who turned back to the piano.  

He did the same routine as before. A deep breath, lifting his arms, waiting in silence, and with an exhale, he played a hoppy, upbeat jazzy tune. It melted into the café’s brick walls, and seemed to make the flames on the candles flicker brighter. As if his music was a conductor and the café a well-trained jazz band, the mood followed the noise to a T, and the crowd suddenly burst into life. A few customers waved to you for a refill on coffee, and a light hum of conversation rose over the music. You could swear you saw a cigarette haze form in the air as the place was transformed to a New York jazz club.  

You sprung to your feet and set to work once again, every so often sneaking glances of the piano player on the stage, a light sheen of sweat eventually formed on his forehead, but he was smiling brighter than ever, head swinging with the tempo shoulders moving dramatically with every lively trill.  

The jazzy vibe went on for an hour or so more, you lost track of time and soon, it was well past midnight, and the moon had begun to set. Eventually, your boss had announced it was closing time. Johnny, still on the piano began to play a slower, mellow song as the people cleared out.  

You stood at a table, gathering dishes with your coworker.  

“I don’t think we’ve ever had a crowd stay ‘til closing like this, especially on open mic night.” She hummed happily.  

“I think it’s all thanks to piano man up there.” You said, casting a glance at your shoulder to Johnny.  

“My friend said he was good, but he was really something else. He should come back.” She said, resting the tray full of glasses on her hip. “And not on open mic night.” Your boss seemed to agree with him. As you finished cleaning up, you saw him approach Johnny, who was back at his table, grabbing his coat and scarf and they were talking lowly. You had already put your coat and were ready to leave. You would have liked a chance to say good job and a thanks, but he seemed busy with your boss. Deciding this probably wouldn’t be the last time you saw him, you head out the door. The melodies from earlier playing through your head.  

You hadn’t made it a few meters away from the door when you hear it open again.  

“Hey wait up,” a man’s voice called, and you turn to see Johnny walking briskly to beside you. “We’re walking the same way, thought we’d walk together, y/n.” You pause for a moment, a smile creeping up on you.  

“How’d you know my name?” you lift an eyebrow. He pointed at the name tag on your shirt with his hand still in his jacket pocket. You laugh lightly. “Of course, yeah, we can walk. "He smiles and the two of you set off. Despite his long-legged strides, he remained next to you.  

“How long have you been playing piano?” You asked him.

“Since I was a kid, but it’s always been more of just a hobby.” You nearly stopped walking. How can someone play music like he’s casting a magic spell and have it as just a hobby?

“You’re kidding? Your skill says its more than just a hobby, and you look so passionate playing.” You couldn’t help the excitement in your voice, and you added a small bounce to your stride to emphasize ‘passion’. He laughed.  

“Thank you, but I think it’s just entertaining a crowd I like more than anything.” he cooed. You saw the way his eyes drifted towards the sky. He was obviously infatuated with performing.

“So, if piano is just a hobby, what do you do?” You queried.  

“I’m a student, studying performing arts.” He rolls his shoulders in an odd little dance as is says it, and you can’t help but snicker.

“Performing arts, I should have guessed.” You shake your head and slow your walk to a halt, causing Johnny to do the same thing. “Performing arts, but not piano?” You teased, and he nodded with a chuckle. “This is my apartment building,” you say, gesturing to the door you stopped in front of. Johnny’s face falls, he almost looks disappointed.  

“I was invited back to play at the café another time, next Monday.” His eyes glimmer with hope. “I’ll probably be around on more open mic nights too, and maybe more. So, I’ll be seeing you around more, I’ll be a regular act!” He holds his hand out for a hand shake, and you take it and share a solid handshake. “It was nice meeting you, y/n.”

“And you, Johnny. Get home safe.” You send him off with a wave and a smile as he starts walking.  

He waved back, and you watched him walk away.  

You couldn’t get the sound of the piano out of your head all night. It played on repeat, accompanied by the breathtaking sight of an artist in his most natural place, music flowing through his veins and eyes burning like the sun in the darkness.  

You saw him again on Monday, and Tuesday, and many other times in the week. Even if he wasn’t performing, he seemed to enjoy the café. He became a regular performer, but also a regular customer. His order etched into the employee's memories. Through the winter and into the spring, but no matter how many times you heard Johnny play, the music was never any less magical. However, you fold yourself not needing to hear music to feel the same emotions. From across the café, he would catch your gaze, and your heart would soar. You became the band at complete mercy to the conductor. The shine in his eye when he played, you noticed, was always there, lingering in the deep spruce brown. You loved that sparkle, and you grew to love him. Whether it was romantically, platonically, or you idolized him, you could never quite figure out, but you loved something about him, and it only grew stronger over time. However, time is the enemy to all good things, and you soon received news of his graduating from his school on the horizon, and his plans to move to a bigger city to peruse bigger things. You felt your heart sink, and when he walked into the café on a lazy Sunday afternoon in the café, you found it difficult to meet his gaze.  

As you laid out the freshly baked desserts in the window on the counter, Johnny approaches and sits on a bar stool, watching you. When you didn’t smile or call out a hello, he spoke up.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to tell you myself.” His voice was low, full of regret and it made you freeze on the spot.  

“It’s okay, I figured you’d be moving away someday anyways. You’re too talented for this town.” You cover your lie with a laugh.  

“I wouldn’t move if I didn’t have to.” Johnny lamented, and the two of you fell silent, locking eyes. There was a long pause, and a thousand questions hung in the air. The loudest of them all screaming,  

‘Why did you care so much anyways?’.  

You brushed it away, you had to, the more you thought about it the more obvious the answer became and you refused to love him. Not with him leaving. Johnny continued to talk, about how he would miss the café and the city, how he would miss the old glossy piano on the creaky wooden stage. He said he’d miss walking home from the café with you at night. He said he’d miss you. But you hardly payed attention to his words, zoned out at you brewed his regular order. You placed the cup in front of him, steam dancing out of it and into his face.  

“I’ll visit often.” He said.  

“You say that like I’ll still be here too.” you retort. Johnny lifts an eyebrow, confused as if your angry tone was serious or not. You hid the fact that you we’re just as confused. “I’ll go pursue my dreams too, Johnny, you know you’re not the only one who can.” You tried to speak with a light tone, but your tongue was venomous, and you weren’t sure why.  

“Of course,” Johnny hesitated, as if he was going to say more, but instead just glanced down into the liquid black in his mug. You felt a pang when he looked away.  

That was the last time you looked him in the eye. You attended his graduation and joined in at the café's small going away party for him. But that day was the last day you saw the sparkling passion in his eyes up close. But you could still hear the music. It was like it was played on a piano that had been sitting for years, however, the notes fallen flat and out of key. The same song, but played sour.  

For you, that was almost the worst part. After Johnny was long gone, after all the other things you loved about him were gone, the one thing you had left had rotted. It had gone bad.  

What you would give to hear the song beautiful once again.

#wow i didnt mean for it to be sad #i also didnt mean to write it this long but here we are #two things i really cant help #im so sorry #please dont beat me up if this is too sad