#now go douse yourself with holy water

[gyuwoncheol]

Room Service

↳ A part 2 to 15 Minutes

Pair: Scoups x f!reader

Genre: Smut, Concert!Cheol, husband!Cheol, dom!Cheol, 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: The only thing hornier than pre-concert Cheol is post-concert Cheol. Lucky for you, you’re the only one in the world with an all-access VIP ticket to this immersive experience.

Warnings: Porn with plot, Concert!Cheol, dom!Cheol, daddy kink, breeding kink, big dick!Cheol, pussy drunk!Cheol, cock hungry!reader, so. many. orgasms., quickie sex, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), lots of making out, creampieS, slightly public sex, dick riding, manhandling, pussy slapping (like once), use of color system, overstimulation, body worship, breast/nipple play, hair pulling, spitting, crying during and after sex (but it’s not a kink), dirty talk, use of pet names (my love, baby, princess, baby girl, angel), fluff at the end. Please let me know if i missed something, i can’t remember all the filth. Not thoroughly proofread.

WC: 4.1k

Author's Note: Did I get carried away? Hell yes. is this the filthiest thing I’ve ever written? Could be. Except the other wip I have also for Seungcheol might just beat it. Thank you so much again for the love on 15 Minutes. I hope this 2nd part lives up to it.

Author's 2nd Note: For new readers, you don’t have to read 15 Minutes as this can stand on its own, but it would make more sense if you did read it.

“My good girl.” 

Seungcheol chuckled as he plunged deep into your cunt, his cock pushing through your mixed cum that you so diligently kept in as instructed, “so good at following instructions huh?” 

“Fuck baby, you’re so messy” Cheol cursed, mouth watering at the sight of your stored cum slowly dripping out of your hole as he dragged out his entire length until only the tip was in. You groaned when you felt globs of it trickle down your thigh, your husband’s large hand slowly pushing you down against the back of the couch. You felt him engulf you, his chest against your back, hot breath on your ears, “cat got your tongue, babe?” The man teased just as he thrusted his length back into you, causing more cum to overflow from your hole.

It had only been roughly 30 minutes since the concert finally ended, the boys doing all the post show rituals from changing clothes to shooting backstage content, and as soon as that was over, Seungcheol had all but dragged you to another dressing room, not even saying anything as he unzipped your jeans and dragged your very soiled panties down. Not that you were surprised though, post-concert was always when Cheol was the horniest, with all that adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

You could feel the prominent vein on his cock drag through your walls deliciously as he alternated between slow and fast thrusts, an arm snaked around your torso while hot phrases flew from his mouth.

“Fuck, pussy so tight.” 

“All mine.” 

“I’ll give you all my babies.” 

“Gon’ pump you full.” 

“My good girl so desperate for cum.” 

“Cheol!” You screeched in between moans when you felt him hit that sensitive spot particularly rough.

“Did you watch me tonight, baby? Why weren’t you in the stands?” He asked suddenly, as if he wasn’t still railing you from behind.

“C-couldn’t g-go” you squeaked, willing yourself to form words when all you really wanted to do was whimper in pleasure, “had to… be— behave… fuck!” 

“Behave?” Cheol clarified even though he sensed where this was going. In all the times they rushed backstage in between sets, not once had you moved from your spot, sitting cross legged on top of the large black trunk cases situated right in front of the screen which broadcasted the events on stage.  “Words, baby” he said sweetly yet firmly when he saw you nod eagerly.

“Yes! Behave. Had t-to… k-keep.. shiiiiit,” you groaned, your elbows harshly rubbing on the leather material of the couch after another rough entry of Cheol’s cock, “keep da-daddy’s… cum… in me.” You finished off your defense and you could already see your husband’s smirk without even really looking at him.

“Aren’t. You. Such. An. Angel.” Seungcheol punctuated each word with a deep harsh thrust.

“And all yours.” You punctuated as you looked back at him, both your eyes glazing in lust. The loud sound of skin slapping skin and your pussy squelching at every thrust was unmistakable, the room smelled of sex. The group’s leader was sweating even more than he did when he got off stage, his warmth radiating onto your body as he kept you impossibly close to him, jackhammering his cock in your cunt. 

“Shit shit shit shit..” you cried out loud when his other hand suddenly rubbed fast circles on your clit.

“FUCK!” Seungcheol growled at your release, your pussy clamping down on him so tightly that it triggered his own. He stilled within you in an instant, bodies folded in half against the leather couch, your husband continuously muttering incoherent words as the feeling of your fluttering walls drove him to another level of cloud 9. 

“Yah! You two better eat already if you’re really planning to go all night” Seungkwan scolded in his best mom voice when the both of you entered the buffet area hand in hand.

You hid your face on Cheol’s shoulders, suddenly very aware of all 12 boys looking your way. They were very much aware of what you two had been doing and why you were doing it. In spite of the never ending teasing and playful disgusted looks they give their leader, the members had all told you they were excited for Cheol to become a dad mostly because it meant he’d get off their asses. 

“We’re actually going ahead. We’ll take a different car.” Your husband announced, a gentle squeeze to your hand when some of the boys howled at the implication of both of you going back to the hotel first.

“Really not wasting any time huh?” Soonyoung smirked despite having his mouth full of noodles 

“What? She’s leaving soon!” Seungcheol whined.

“Y/n still has a week left!!” Mingyu corrected with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, still not enough!” Cheol replied. He gave a curt nod to Jeonghan, calling his name firmly as if to say ‘i leave the kids with you.’

“Hyung, seriously, you both have to eat.” DK was next to remind you both as he knows you’re both still running on empty stomachs.

“We’ll get room service,” your husband called out, inching closer towards the exit doors that would lead you to the vans.

“We hope it's the food kind! And maybe let y/n get some real sleep after!” Joshua’s reminder had you giggling, glad enough to know the boys still cared for you even though all you’ve done was hog all of Seungcheol’s free time.

Surprisingly, you had both managed to stay well behaved in the car ride home. If anything, you two were very sweet, your head resting on Cheol’s shoulders as he held your hand through the ride and absentmindedly played with your fingers. 

Even when you had both showered together in the hotel room, your husband did not try to make any advances, he simply cleaned you both up, even giving you a nice massage on your scalp when you lathered your favorite shampoo. 

Contrary to what his members may think, Seungcheol wasn’t too adamant about fucking you all night. He could see how tired you actually are and Mingyu was right, you did still have a week left with him. He just wants to make sure you are cared for like his queen this whole trip, whether that meant blowing your back or giving you 8 hours of sleep, he didn’t mind. 

“Tired, baby?” He asked as he secured the knot on your fluffy hotel robe.

You lazily smiled at him as you settled in bed, pulling him towards you for good measure. “I’m ok.”

“Hungry? Wanna get some food now?” 

“Want you to kiss me.” 

Seungcheol was taken aback by the boldness of your request, not because it was the first time you asked, but because you both have definitely done more than just kissing these past 72 hours. He smiled sheepishly as he climbed over you, settling on your side as his chapped lips kissed your soft ones. You clutched onto his hand on your neck, sighing happily when you felt him deepen the kiss. 

“Someone’s happy,” a low chuckle from your husband.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, “i love your kisses.” Despite the raunchy sex, there was always just something so nice and intimate about kissing your husband. His lips were always so plump against yours and the way he’d hold you securely always made you feel like you meant the world to him. 

“You’re so beautiful, i love you so much,” Seungcheol admired your bare face before sucking on your lower lip.

You moaned out an i love you too but it only got swallowed by the man who couldn’t get enough of you. You climbed on his lap, trapping him in between your legs, taking control of this little makeout session you were having. Inevitably, the more you kissed him, the more your hips moved on its own accord, grinding on Cheol’s robe-covered bottom half. 

You were moving erratically, wanting to chase a high you knew you needed if you were to fit Cheol’s dick again tonight. 

“Daddy, please...” you cried, annoyed that you just couldn’t get to where you wanted to be 

“Please what, baby girl?”

You whined desperately at the dangerously low tone in your ear, “please make me cum.” 

Record time is what you’d call it, the way Seungcheol went from flipping you over to casting your robe open to having his mouth suck on your clit harshly. You couldn’t even process it, all you knew was your throat was straining from how you were screaming his name with how he lapped at your cunt. His tongue licked bold stripes from your hole to your clit before he'd suck the sensitive bud. If there's anything Cheol has perfected, it's his hand-mouth coordination, the way he perfectly syncs his plush lips to suck at your clit while two fingers sink in you and curl to graze that spongy spot inside your walls. It should really have you embarrassed at how quick it could unravel the coil in your stomach. Your orgasm exploding in colorful bursts behind your eyes whilst soaking your husband's face in a mess. 

"I forgot how sweet you fucking taste," he groaned, slurping the juices leaking from your hole. He peeked up at you from where he was, your mouth agape and chest rising and falling while your fingers still gripped on his hair. You were hissing from oversensitivity but you should've known that post-concert Cheol was a starved man. When he deemed he had swallowed all of you, three fingers prodded at your entrance that had you arching your back from the bed only to be pushed down with your husband's free arm. "Stay still, baby. Daddy's not done yet." 

"Fuuuuuuck, " you panted, going delirious from the overstimulation your pussy was feeling. You writhed in vain as Cheol smothered your cunt like a full course meal. When you tried to squirm away, he delivered a slap to your pussy that sent shocks all over your body. "I'm cu- fuck! I'm cumming," you shuddered, thighs closing in on your husband's head. 

Seungcheol chuckled at your state, a proud grin across his face when he finally settled beside you. After pulling back to back orgasms from you in less than 10 minutes, he knew you were oversensitive and just needed to not be touched. "You okay, my love?" 

"Just.." you panted, "Just a minute." 

You rolled over on your stomach when you regained enough strength, and slowly but surely got on your wobbly knees to climb on your husband's thick thighs. Seungcheol wanted to squeeze your bare breasts but seeing as you were still slightly swaying, he decided to hold you securely by the waist. "what're you doing?" He mused while watching you fumble with the knot of his robe. 

His dick twitched at the sight of your lust blown, hooded eyes. "Daddy..." You smiled, god, you were so far gone, "Wanna ride you." 

Seungcheol moaned, hurriedly helping you untie his robe and throwing it to the floor. You salivated at the sight of his hard cock slapping against his stomach, red tip leaking with precum. Anchoring your palms on his chest, you kept your eyes trained on him as you sucked on your tongue before letting some of your saliva drool onto his length, your hand immediately gripping and spreading the fluid along his shaft, thumb grazing at the slit.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, hips bucking into your hand on instinct. A wicked smile crossed your face, delighted with the effect your actions had on him.

Cheol's eyes rolled to the back of his head when you finally let your pussy glide against his cock, coating it even more in your wetness.

"Fuck baby, what's gotten into you?" He hissed as you picked up your pace, grinding his cock against your wet folds, always making sure to let the tip kiss your clit when you move down. "So fucking needy for daddy's cock huh?" 

You moaned when one of his large hand squeezed your right breast and his dick leaked more precum onto his stomach. The sight of you, head falling back and mouth parted, was immaculate. He wished he remembered where his phone was right now, it would've been the perfect photo to take for him to get off on in the future. He committed it to memory as best he could, but even that thought immediately flew away when he finally felt you sink into his dick. 

"Oh my god,” you moaned in unison.

Seungcheol wasn't so sure if he was wincing from your nails digging into his chest or from the vice grip of your cunt on his cock, but either way, both felt like heaven to him. "Baby girl, you just came twice and you're still so fucking tight.”

"C-can take you, daddy. Please... p-promise!" You begged, lowering yourself to take in a few more inches of him. The stretch was familiar yet it still had you squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip. 
Afraid he wouldn't be able to stay still any longer, Cheol took the matter in his own hands, sitting up to bring your chest flush against his, connecting your lips in a heated kiss to distract you from the pain. He still tasted of you and a slight hint of your minty toothpaste. When he felt you relax, his strong hold sank you onto him until he was fully sheathed. You broke from the kiss, head falling back once again at the overwhelming feeling of being so full. 

"Cmon, baby, thought you wanted to ride me?" He sucked on the column of your throat, causing you to swivel your hips. "There you go. You can do it." God, his voice was so sinful it made your insides churn. Another strangled moan left your mouth when his wet tongue made contact with your right nipple, licking and sucking before he kissed between the valley of your breasts, only to nip at your left bud.

"Oh my god, Cheol!" You pulled at his hair, wanting him to leave your sensitive breasts alone. 

He laughed dryly at your attempt but still allowed you that space. He let go of your waist to lean back with his palms against the mattress to have a full view of you. "Cmon baby," He spurred on, "show daddy what you got." 

Choi Seungcheol was simply left with no regrets at his challenge. His eyes almost turned completely black when you decided to fully bounce on him. When you found a good pace, you alternated between bouncing and grinding, one hand squeezing your breast as the other held onto his knee for support. "Fuck, daddyyy," you cried at the stretch, and he could just feel your pussy clenching on his cock even more.

"So fucking needy," he spat, "Can't get enough of my cock." 

You shook your head at his words, mewling when your clit rubbed deliciously at his pelvis and his engorged head kissed your cervix. "D-daddy.." 

"That's it, baby girl," Seungcheol cooed, bucking his hips up to meet yours, "get off on me, ride me 'til you shake. Need you to cum, princess." 

Encouraged by your husband's words, you lifted ‘til just the tip was in before sitting down on him harshly. He continued to praise you and how delicious your warm pussy felt, a string of very lewd words produced with every swivel of your hips. Your face contorted in pleasure and he knew you were close, "touch yourself," came his instructions.

"shit!" You cursed, cumming on the spot when two of your fingers rubbed against your clit.

Seungcheol beamed at how well he knew you, your tells and your triggers when you're about to cum. But what he didn't see coming was just how fast the sight of you getting off on top of him would quickly bring him to the edge too. If he didn’t catch it at the last second, he might have just spilled in you.

In one swift motion, not even pulling out of you, he flipped you on your back and trapped you under his weight. You yelped when he pumped into you, catching you off guard as you were still trying to ride out your own orgasm. 

"Ba-aby, fuck. You're d-driving me insane," he growled, "don't you dare fucking close your eyes. Keep 'em on me." 

Your fingers weaved through his hair, as you desperately tried to follow his instructions. If only he wasn't hell bent on reaching his high, Seungcheol would've laughed at how often you'd train your eyes to look at him every time they kept trying to roll to the back of your head. "Daddy's gonna fuck a baby in you, you want that, princess?" 

"Y-yes daddy! yes!" You mewled, both your legs being lifted up, calves resting on Seungcheol’s meaty shoulders, while he inserted a pillow below your ass. "Fuck me full, daddy, please,” a breathless request.

He folded you in half, planting his knees on the mattress and bracing himself on your sides. Seungcheol drove his cock into you, hitting you so deep that you felt him just below your cervix and you moaned the loudest that night. Strangled moan after strangled moan came out of your mouth while throaty grunts and curse words flew off from his, all this mixed with the explicit sound of your sweaty bodies colliding.

"m-more, daddy! More, please!"  

"Fuuuuuuck, you're insatiable, so fucking tight," Seungcheol moaned. His movements were rough, pulling out of you completely before fully slamming back in and going deep with every move. The sex was everything close to animalistic, you could feel him in the deepest parts of you, consistently hitting a spot that made your brain short circuit. "So needy for my cum, want to be filled so bad."

"Daddy, so- oh my god. So fucking big.”

“Princess, I-I’m.. s-so...close,” he warned, staring at your teary eyes while your hands intertwined behind his neck. Seungcheol buried his cock in you, not bothering to thrust out of your grip, instead grinding endlessly to help stimulate your clit against his pelvis.

"Cum with me, Cheollie. P-please."  

Your husband growled before his hips jerked twice, hot spurts of his cum painting your walls white. His eyes boring into yours and the feeling of being so full only triggered your own release, rendering you into a babbling mess. Seungcheol connected your mouths in a kiss, not caring that you were already out of breath. He interspersed them with praises of how good you felt clenching on his cock. 

"I love you, Cheollie." 

"I know baby, I know. I love you too," he breathed, hissing at how hard he still was despite just hitting his climax. His dick was almost painful in your tight hold, "give me one more, yeah?" 

Before you could even process his question, you were already flipped on all fours, whining at the temporary emptiness. "Wha- Cheol, I-" 

"Be good for daddy, yeah? One more, princess. One more to get you round and full." But who were you to deny your Choi Seungcheol? Your husband who was just as ready to start a family with you like he's always dreamed of. Your arms gave way when you felt him breach your abused hole once more, your limp body allowing him to control your hips even more. He was kneading your ass, surely leaving handprints in his wake. 

"Ch- ahh!" You cried in a silent scream, the pleasure you were feeling just devouring your every being. You could feel the goosebumps rise on you scalp and run to the tips of your toes as Seungcheol pounded you from behind. "Cheollie... Oh.. oh! fu-uuuck." 

He pulled you by your hair harshly, your back flush against his chest, the low rumble of his voice affecting your body, "Call me Cheollie again and you won't get to cum." 

"Daddy!" you whined apologetically, tears freely flowing down your cheeks. 

"There you go, not so hard huh, princess?" Seungcheol teased, an arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cupped at your cunt. "Color, my love?" 

"G-green, daddy.. Pl-Please... just j-ust cum in me." 

"Fuck, you sound so broken... So greedy for my cum." Seungcheol relentlessly fucked up into you, until his pace grew erratic and bent you both forward. He stopped himself with his forearm to the mattress so as not to crush you, but with your muscles already weak, you simply face planted into the soft hotel pillows, drool and tears staining the white sheets.

"All mine," your husband chanted repetitively, stilling inside your pussy as it clenched around him tightly. Your orgasm rippled through you in a big tidal wave that Seungcheol could just feel your slick coat him anew. Your whole body shook uncontrollably, jolts of electricity alighting all your nerves. With one last loud call of your name, Seungcheol shot his load inside you, white ropes of sticky cum filling your cunt to the brim. His own thighs trembling as he finally collapsed on you, knocking out the little air you had left. He whispered i love you's to your ear, riding out his own orgasm which lasted longer than the both of you expected, especially when he just came a few minutes ago. 

In your two years of marriage, you don't think you've ever been this spent after sex, and neither did Seungcheol. But nothing catches his attention faster than the sound of you sniffing followed by a tiny hiccup. He moves up and pulls out of you so quickly that he hisses harshly, but you whine out even louder, causing alarm bells to ring in his head. 

"nooo..." you cry pathetically, your voice barely above a whisper, "come back."

"Baby, what's wrong?" Seungcheol pulls you towards him, eyes scanning your body for any abnormal pain, dreading the next few words out of his mouth, "did I hurt you?" 

You shook your head no, your hands grabbing at his chest to pull yourself closer to him and bury your face in his neck.

"Princess..." he started gently, still not completely sure if you were really okay. "I need your words. Need you to tell me if I hurt you." 

You choked as you tried to speak, voice straining from all the noises you've made tonight, but you were well aware your crying did nothing to comfort your husband. "I'm okay." 

"Was I too much?" 

"No. Never." You assured with a soft kiss on his chest. "So good to me." 

Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief at your words. "Wanna tell me why you're crying?" He asked, moving you both on your side so he could look at you properly, one hand soothing your back. His warm breath tickled your face, as he tried to wipe away your tears with the softest look in his eyes. 

You felt another squeeze in your heart while warmth crept up in your cheeks, both your hands instinctively covering your face when tears pricked at your eyes once more. You mumbled something but Cheol couldn't really understand and he didn't want to push, so he held you tighter instead, leaving kisses on your shoulder as his free hand brushed your hair. He could feel your tears wet his neck and shoulder and he willed himself to stay patient and calm. 

"I'm sorry," you squeaked after a long bout of silence between you two, "am I scaring you?" 

"A little bit," Seungcheol chuckled. 

You looked up into his eyes, wanting to make sure he knows he did nothing wrong, "I'm just overwhelmed," your voice began to crack again at the last word, "I... I just... I really want a family with you, Cheol," you sobbed, your hands attempting to cover your face again but your husband was quick enough to grab at them. His own cupped your face instead, a thumb wiping at your tears as he let out the brightest smile, his own cheeks dusted in a light pink shade. "I really want this to work, Cheol." 

"I do, too, baby but in our own time, yeah? If it’s for us, then it will happen one way or another. Let's not pressure ourselves too much. I don't want you to pressure yourself too much," your husband comforted, "Besides, with or without kids, I already have you... and Kkuma… you're already family to me."  

You were pretty sure you felt your heart grow a size bigger at his words, mentally thanking the heavens you had a husband who adored and loved you so much.

Your moment was cut off by the incessant buzz of a phone and when you looked towards the bedside table to check, sure enough your device was vibrating towards the edge. Picking it up to stop the ring, your eyes grew wide at the notification that flashed on top of the screen, a smile dancing on your lips as you comprehended the app’s words in black font.

"Cheollie?" 

"Yeah?"

"I'm ovulating."

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated ☺️

#now go douse yourself with holy water #svt #svthub #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt smut #seventeen smut #scoups fic #scoups one shot #scoups smut #scoups imagine #seungcheol smut #seungcheol fic #seungcheol one shot #seungcheol imagine #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #svt one shot #svt fic #daddy cheol #daddy scoups #paula writes ✨ #paula writes smut #paula thots #Room Service #15 Minutes

[waltwhitmansbeard]

"...you knew?"

Vax and Kiki, please.

22. "...you knew?" setting this in vamp machina! it's gonna gonna be vaxleth adjacent, bc i got this idea and couldn't stop chewing on it.

"Percy, wait!"

He's not listening to her. He's triple-checking the locks on all the windows and doors, pulling out boxes and boxes of wooden bullets from every crevice of the apartment, shoving bottles of holy water into her hands. "It's fine, okay? We'll fix it. I'll fix it."

He's not listening to her. "Percy, can we just talk about this—"

He hasn't stood still since it happened, since he walked in on a scene she knows to be straight from his nightmares. There's a book, some leather-bound thing that looks to be half a millennium old, open on the coffee table. "There's a spell in there, I think, can you look? Something about deinvitation. See if it's something in your wheelhouse."

Keyleth is just standing there, unmoving in the center of the apartment, holding a washcloth to her neck. The blood's starting to seep out under it. She doesn't know what to say next.

So Percy keeps going. "If you need anything from the shop, let me know and we'll go together once the sun rises. You're not staying in this apartment alone, not until we can make sure that fucker can't get back in here."

She wants to cry, but she thinks maybe her body forgot how. "Percy."

Something about her voice, now, stops him, and his face melts into something halfway between pity and worry. "Hey." He comes over, pulls her into a hug. She feels dirty sinking into it. "It's okay. It's not your fault. They're so good at this, at tricking people. I should have been here, yeah? This is my fault."

Her body is remembering now. "Percy..."

He pulls out of the hug to take her crumpled face in his hands. "Do not blame yourself for this. If he comes near you again, I'll kill him."

"I invited him in."

He kisses her forehead, and oh, she deserves whatever storm comes barreling her way. "I know. It sucks, but it happened. It was a mistake."

"No."

He frowns. "What do you mean?"

The words are so faint, she can hardly hear them herself. "I knew."

The realization is a full-body process. The brow furrows, then the spine straightens, and the jaw sets. His eyes go cold, distant. "...You knew?"

There's just no way he'll understand it. "I love him, Percy." The tears are flowing hot, fast, unrelenting. "I...I let him in. I let him..." She presses the washcloth harder against the spot where, less than half an hour ago, Vax was sensually pulling from her life force. "I knew what I was doing."

Percy skitters back, then, as if she'd slapped him. In all her life, she's never seen such betrayal in someone else's eyes. She imagines he'd be less hurt if she gutted him from navel to sternum with a knife from the kitchen, if she doused him in oil and set him aflame. Whatever was between them, whatever friendship, whatever family, whatever trust, she watches it shatter in real time.

She wishes she regrets it.

They stare at each other for a long time, maybe minutes, maybe days. She says nothing, because there is nothing she can say to make this better. When the cold stillness becomes too much to bear, Percy spins around, stomps out the front door, slams it shut behind him. She collapses, then, all of the guilt and the sorrow and the anguish crashes down on top of her, the levees broken. She sobs, arms clutches around her middle, until the hard floors dig into her knees, until her tear ducts run dry, until through the same window through which Vax fled, she sees the sun beginning to rise.

#ask #tiamat-zx #i wrote this on day three of an illness and 2.5 hours of sleep so we get what we get ok??? #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #my fic #vox machina #vox machina fic #vamp machina au #critical role au #cr au #tlovm au #vox machina au #vaxleth fic #vaxleth au #vaxleth

[frostironfudge]

I Think I Met You In My Dreams Once - Bucky Barnes - Four

Summary: After receiving an honourable discharge from his military service that was caused by the loss of his arm, James Barnes begins to come to terms with several things. He also finds solace in youtube videos, memes and on social media, where he happens to find you.

Pairing: Ex-Military!Bucky Barnes x Fem! Plus Size!Reader (Modern AU)

Chapter Warnings: angst, fluff, phone sex, smut, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, PTSD mentioned, nightmares, active communication between a couple, long distance relationship, timezones, praise kink, size kink if you squint (you won't have to though if you catch my drift)(take me away from this hellsite)

A.N.: posting the chapter early because @thousandnighstwhithmammon convinced me with cute gifs

Word Count: 6212 Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Fic Masterlist || Main Masterlist || AO3 || Fic Playlist

Chapter Three || Chapter Five

Bucky was determined, looking at flowers and chocolates on a website that delivered the same to where you were. He made a face at some of the floral arrangements and the teddy bear in one wasn’t upto mark for his girl. 

My girl. He grinned as he repeated the two words in his mind. Even though you were miles and miles away from him. You were his and he was yours. 

Bucky groans as he looks at the red teddy bear, why can’t it be brown? He needed to find a cute memorabilia that could serve as a comforting reminder of him. In the event you couldn’t speak to each other regularly. Or in the event he pissed you off and the bear could ease your anger. 

Also red teddy bears are just one step away from being possessed. Why did they look so dead inside?

He decides upon just flowers and chocolates for now adding them to cart and putting in your address he sneaked off from Steve who snuck it from Natasha. 

Unbeknownst to him you did the same of sneaking his address of off Natasha who snuck it from Steve. 

The two of them did roll their eyes and had a eight minute back and forth about how you both could just be upfront. But nope, sneaking addresses is what was being done. They allowed it simply because the two of you were like little excited babies and the gleam in both of your eyes was precious. 

While you stared at the websites that has a lot to offer to send your man. You giggle to yourself and blush, my man. You repeat it feeling giddy. Would he appreciate this weird gift set? Also what even was this happiness box?

You shut the entire browser window. You are erasing your browser history. Maybe dousing your eyes in holy water. God the image of the lube and flesh light and dildo was still stuck in your head. 

Extravaganza of Male Happiness. 

The perfect gift for your man.

“You found a sex based website didn’t you?” Natasha laughs at your incredulous expression. 

“Please I’m worried and scarred.” You plead, your only other idea was flowers and the chocolate he had mentioned he really loves. 

“Just go with your first idea.” Nat says, “You want it to reach for the first date right? So you have only today to decide.” 

“First idea is flowers, I think we spoke about it, he’s never gotten flowers and I want to change that.” You admit, opening up the sample arrangements of cat safe flowers that you had shortlisted the previous night. 

“I think he’d like any of these.” She comments opening up her notebook as the professor enters and you put away your phone while retrieving your own notebook. 

Bucky wipes his hand on his jeans, why is this so nerve wracking? He’s spoken to you through the screen several times yet this one pulses his nerves. 

Briefly he wonders if this lunch/dinner date will workout. 

All thoughts go out the window when his laptop screen comes to life with your incoming call. Shakily he accepts after checking his headphones being connected for the fiftieth time. 

“Hi,” 

Bucky grins as your voice greets his ears while the screen loads up. 

“Hi Doll.” He greets, giving you his brightest smile when the screens do load. 

You beam equally bright at him. 

“You look, very very handsome.” You blurt out, then blush, he’s wearing a light blue button down. 

“If you think I look handsome, you should see my date she’s breathtaking.” Bucky grins more as he notices your shyness coming forth. 

“Well you gotta take a deep breath, cause I’m about to show you my outfit.” You say as you stand from the chair fixing the sundress you picked out, it matched his shirt by chance. 

“So its a lunch date?” Bucky grins, admiring you as you stand back, god wireless headphones are a boon. 

“Yes, dinner dates have other outfits. ” You do a small twirl and the hem of the dress moves along with the movement. 

“You look gorgeous, doll. You keep taking my breath away.” He grins and you settle down onto your chair again. 

“Thank you, now your turn, I wanna see what are you wearing.” You clap your hands in excitement and he laughs, standing up and heading to the end of his room.

“Well, this is a blue button down but I’m pretty sure Pantone has a specific name for this shade. I’m wearing beige pants.” He walks closer to the screen doing a supermodel stance with his hand on his hip and your laugh makes him grin with the corner of his eyes getting crinkles. That, that was your favourite smile on him. 

Bucky’s phone chimes and he gets excited. 

“What? Did the application get accepted?” You also get excited for him. 

“Go open your door.” Is all he says, you look back at him confused. 

“Why?”

“Just go open it.” He only smiles, then his door bell rings as does yours. 

Bucky narrows his eyes at you. 

“You should open your door.” You wiggle your brows then laugh. The two of you get up from your chairs in sync and head to the respective doors. 

Bucky is going to cry, he carefully sets down the vase of sunflowers near the door before grabbing the other box the delivery personnel hands to him and he returns to the room holding the vase with ease and the box tucked under his arms. 

You look away from your own flowers and chocolates and gulp, that vase you knew was heavy, and yet Bucky was holding it with ease. 

“Seems like we both had the same idea.” He grins while setting the contents down on his desk. 

“I um, they are safe even if Alpine might try to nip at them, I checked five blogs to confirm. Um, thats not the only reason I picked them, you know how sunflowers turn towards where the sun is?” You pause waiting for Bucky to respond but he only looks at you with an incomprehensible emotion. 

“Did, are you allergic?” Panic laces your voice, “Do you have your epipen?” 

“No, no, I’m not allergic, I, well no one has ever given me flowers. I just, and you even thought of Alpine. Thank you. I love them.” 

You gaze at him softly, the panic evaporating. 

“I’m glad you liked them—,”

“Love them, doll, i love them, thank you. Did, did you like yours?” Bucky shifts running his hand through his hair, nervous. Should he have bought the red teddy?

You pick up your vase and hold it while grinning at him. Bucky takes a screenshot, unable to help himself. 

“I love them, these are Alstroemerias, a type of Lily, right?” You confirm admiring the pink hues across the petals. 

Bucky nods, “Yeah, I um, Peruvian Lily. Is the other name.” Pink ones symbolise friendships turned love but he’s going to not say that. Yet. He thinks it would make you leave the video call in one second. 

“They’re beautiful, James. Thank you. Now you need to hold yours so I have a picture too.” You narrow your eyes at him, catching his sneaky screenshot skill. 

“You caught that?” He scratches the back of his neck, then grabs his vase and you try not to drool at his strength. 

“Take a picture baby, it will last longer.” Bucky smirks as you get flustered, quickly taking your own screenshot. 

He winks at you before setting the flowers back in their place. 

“So, what has the lady ordered for herself?” He rests his chin on his palm. 

“Well, I went with something simple, penne in an Alfredo sauce with chicken. For the appetiser I think I ordered,” You rummage through the bag, “ah yes, Mozzarella cheese sticks, they were out of the other things ooh anddd they gave free garlic bread.” You tease him holding up the free bread. 

Bucky’s jaw drops then he looks absolutely offended, “I had to pay for my bread. But we’re sharing the apps because,” He holds up the take out container housing his own mozzarella cheese sticks. You grin. 

“For main we have lasagna.” He holds up the container, grinning and you can almost smell the melted cheese and herbs. 

“I wish I could steal some through the screen.” You pout. 

“Joey doesn’t share food.” He shakes his head, playfully taking the container away from the screen. 

“I thought you said you’re Chandler.” You accuse him getting offended because you’ve been deemed as Monica by everyone you know and were holding out hope to find your own Chandler. 

“Well I am your Chandler but in matters of food, I can be your Joey.” He grins, you shake your head laughing. His little ‘your’ before the character’s name tugs at your heart. 

“So apps first and we can begin our first date.” He tries to plate them up as nicely as possible. Once he’s done he watches you plate up, you look up at him licking the melted cheese from your finger. You watch as his tongue runs over his bottom lip. Bucky takes a steadying inhale. It’s unfair how you’re so far away. 

He clears his throat, “So um,” 

“You’re a bite behind Barnes.” You chuckle taking a bite of the food and he follows suit. 

“You’re in a very happy banter-y mood, I absolutely am enjoying it.” He comments. 

“Well I am in company of someone who enjoys happy banter-y-ness.” 

“You are yes.”

Much to both of your relief, the first date isn’t all that different to your usual conversations just the topics are lighter. No heavy stuff about family, his time with the military, more so getting to know each other and already talking about the potential second date. 

“Wait, wait, wait.” You hold up both your hands trying to not choke on your food before laughing. 

“You guys visited a farm in grade one,” You repeat. 

“Yes a farm, cute animals cows and all.” He shakes his head at the memory. 

“And you carried chocolate milk, and emptied it into the milk bucket of the brown cow?” You confirm, watching his shoulders shake in delight at the memory of the prank he pulled. 

“Steve lost his mind when he saw the milk.” Bucky’s laugh was warmth embracing you, pulling you in, keeping you next to him. 

“And no one found out? Not even the person in-charge or your teacher?” You ask and he just shakes his head laughing. 

“No one could do anything the principal came in to the class the next day worried, when parents called her up, because every single kid said chocolate milk comes from brown cows.” Bucky’s eyes widen in fear recreating his scared expression then laughing again. 

“Oh my god.” You wipe the tear that is about to escape still giggling as you both try to calm down from the story. 

“Hey you’ve got a little Alfredo…” Bucky points on his own face to direct you. 

“Oh um,” you try to swipe it, not looking at the small picture of you just looking at him for guidance. 

“Other side doll,” Bucky’s hand reaches out then he retracts it when it collides with the screen. 

You both grow quiet. Using the tissue and finally seeing yourself in the small box helps clean up the stray sauce. 

It was safe to say that the biggest con of wanting to long distance date was not being able to do the typical romantic movie things. Or even just hold hands. 

“What do you have for dessert?” You bite your lip, hoping the night/day wasn’t ruined. 

“Tiramisu.” Bucky shoves away the annoying thought of not being able to touch you, he knew what you both were signing up for when the line between friendship and something more was being blurred. 

“Once again we share dessert.” You smile, he does as well. The earlier tension fading away into nothingness. 

As the date slowly moves towards its end, Bucky contemplates asking about the second date or voicing his concern over how would you both manage if this does turn into something more?

“James?” You furrow your brow thinking his frame’s frozen. 

“James?” You tilt your head, as he blinks but doesn’t respond lost in thought. 

He knows if you both try hard enough this will be something beautiful and distance? That could be closed with a flight or visiting when it was feasible for the two of you. 

“Bucky?” You try and he finally looks up. 

“Doll?” He furrows his brows, confusion lacing his voice. 

“You, what is on your mind?” You enquire, sitting up a bit more. 

“Nothing—,”

“Bucky.” You reprimand. 

“I was just—, I don’t want to end the date on a sour note. Forget it, it can be discussed later.” He gives a halfhearted smile. 

“James, for this to work we need to communicate openly.” You remind him, he feels his heart squeeze as your voice grows quiet and worry colours your features. 

“I’m,” He exhales, biding time to find the right words, “I wanted to ask about our second date… I know we both work out the timings and the food and everything but like during dinner I wanted to reach out and your hands twitched to reach out as well. I know what we have is something special and so worth the painful distance but I worry, what if one of us stops trying?” He airs out his concerns. 

“You aren’t putting a sour note on the date let me clear that up for you.” You give him a small smile. 

“It is at the back of my head too. Not able to cup your face, feel your hand intertwined with mine or feed you a bite of my food or steal a bite from yours by way of getting you to feed me. There is quiet a lot we won’t be able to do, but I think we both know each other enough to be honest with one another. It is possible we could stop trying but the other one can fight for the two of us, try and save what we have.” You let him process your words. 

“I don’t want it to come to that, to fight or make the other stay if it’s difficult. I know its just been one date, but do you think you would be willing to take this on for a longer term? I’m not saying it has to go this way, there is a possibility where we both could agree a friendship is better” He hopes it won’t come to the latter, its hardly been three and a half months since he knows you, and one week since you both have decided to step into dating. He doesn’t want to give it up. 

“Okay, lets, lets think about one thing that we can control? Because I feel our what ifs are getting to us deeply.” You advise and his azure eyes are hopeful for something. 

“Okay. What is it?” He drums his finger along his desk. 

“This moment, the present, today, our date, our flowers for each other. Us. Here. Face to face in a way. The distance is a big factor but we have things at our disposal to somewhat take that away.” You say, hoping he understands. 

“If we just consider today then yes, what we have is something worth dealing with the distance. I don’t care about that when I have you.” He gazes at you, blue eyes locked in on yours and he takes your name before saying words that wrap around your heart,

“You’re worth the distance.” He blinks back the tears as his chest feels much lighter at the truth. 

“You’re worth the distance too.” A tear escapes past your eyes and you quickly wipe it away. 

“Look at me, making my date cry.” He chuckles dryly, you give a huff of a laughter. 

“Happy tears.” You look back at him from your hands. 

Reaching out you run a knuckle over his cheek. Bucky tilts his head as if leaning into your touch, making you smile. 

“One day you will do that in person.” He promises. 

“One day you will be able to twirl me.” You promise. 

“And then kiss you.” He adds, much too cheekily.

“Cheeky.” You playfully roll your eyes. 

“You enjoy my cheekiness.” He retorts easing you both into the playful banter before you both say your goodbyes. 

Bucky lays on his bed, eyes on the sunflowers and he can’t wipe the smile off of his face. 

His phone buzzes, he sits up to retrieve it from his desk. 

He reads your message from the notification tab. 

@.watchingthemoonlight:

i had a lovely date, can’t wait for our next one. 

Bucky falls back down onto the bed with an even wider grin on his face. 

“Doll!” Bucky calls out, you hurry back from the kitchen. 

“Coming!” You call out then hiss as your door handle collides into your hip. 

“You okay?” He looks worried, the usual size of his screen smaller since he’s added his phone to the video-call. 

“Yeah that just hurts like a bitch.” You rub the sore spot, today was date number ten, coinciding with a new upload from your collective favourite ghoul boys, which meant you’re awake way past 3 a.m to watch it with Bucky. 

You yawn again and he shakes his head.

“No, don’t you dare.” You warn him. 

“I didn’t say anything!” He raises his hands in defence. 

“Yet.” You look at him in disdain. 

“Okay, yet” he agrees, “We could have watched this at a better hour.”

“And miss this episode? Bucky are you even my boyfriend?” You shake your head. 

“I am concerned about my girlfriend’s wellbeing and sleep pattern. Which I have told her about on several occasions.” He reprimands using his stern voice and if it wasn’t for the moot point his voice would have had you clenching your thighs. 

Bucky smirks catching the slight change in your sleepiness, almost a month since your first date but he had caught onto your subtle reactions to some of his teasing. 

That was another change that happened after several (fifteen very lovely dates and communication with meticulously planned timezone dates making sure all dates alternated between day and night). Bucky had sent flowers on one random Thursday morning with a brown teddy bear having papers tucked in an envelope under the teddy’s arms. 

Page One

@.bbarnes has sent you a message 

Page Two

@.bbarnes:

after fifteen beautiful dates with the gorgeous woman who has only certainly arrived right from my dreams, i want to ask her to be my girlfriend, should i do it?

Page Three

@.bbarnes:

Okay here goes, i’m asking her, god wait shit where is the flower? 

Page Four

A hand drawn Lily with it being painted with the pink hues from the first bouquet he ever gave you. 

Page Five

@.bbarnes:

give me a call please? don’t bother about the time. 

And so you did, it was three-thirty a.m for him. Bucky with sleep hair all half raised on various sides and sleep ridden eyes and a sweet sleepy smile upon seeing you. You melted right there. 

“I see you got my bear.” He smiles as you hold it up for him, “Press his right paw.” 

You set the phone down and press the paw. 

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” The voice box from the bear speaks in Bucky’s voice and you have to hold back tears. 

“Its a one time press only, but I want to ask again, will you be my girlfriend?” He worries his bottom lip, you hug the bear tightly. 

“James, I will be your girlfriend, yes.” You beam at him and Bucky swears you just broke the record for happiest day of his life. He does a mini dance and you can see Alpine giving him a bored look in the background and going off to sleep again. 

Your heart surges, James, your James, your Bucky is now your boyfriend. God you need to squeal and tell Natasha. You need to be calm. 

You both just adore each other and he shifts from sitting to propping his phone against the pillows and laying down. 

“You need to sleep, Bucky.” You watch as his eyes fight to close. 

“I’m awake, my girlfriend is on the phone.” He grins sleepily and you take a screenshot.

“She’s worried about her boyfriend’s sleep patterns.” You say and in the dim light you can still make out the red tinge across his skin. 

“Your boyfriend’s a lucky guy, has you.” Bucky’s eyelids flutter close. Slowly his breathing evens out. 

You shake your head setting the phone in your pocket after murmuring goodnight. 

His eyes open wide in panic when you squeal and run to Nat who was in the kitchen and excitedly tell her what Bucky did, and he smiles as he hears the excitement and emotion in your voice. 

“Doll.” He calls out. 

“Hey Doll.” He laughs when he hears you adoring the bear. 

“Oh god, oh god, I thought i ended the call when you fell asleep.” You facepalm as you hear his laugh. Natasha laughs as you exit the kitchen throwing a banana to her head which she catches before it does the minimal damage. 

“And have me miss the cutest reaction?” Bucky raises an eyebrow, “No way.” 

“I’m so happy, I just, I’ve, you know right?” You remind him about the conversation about previous relationships over your weight and shape. 

“Don’t have to worry about that with me, beautiful. I absolutely adore my doll.” He sends over a flying kiss and you catch it. 

You give him a flying kiss and well and he catches it and does a full show of placing it in his pocket. 

So now Bucky has a plan to keep you distracted and awake. The timer for the premiere shifts to one minute and Bucky begins talking about the latest batch of coding but you can’t pay attention because he’s doing that thing. 

That thing with his fingers and lips and face where all you can do is watch, as he moves his fingers over his lips, along his five o clock shadow and jaw. Oh he knows what he’s doing. He knows. 

Something about python is being said but you couldn’t really pay attention. 

The teasing had been back and forth, which had only started one day when he send you a video from the gym, so in reality he started it. 

The video was of a floor press and he even send you the three digits on the dumbbell that he was raising up against gravity and your jaw was on the floor. 

And naturally, naturally your brain malfunctioned and typed out a nsfw response and send it before you could do anything and he read it before you could unsend it. Bucky smirked he didn’t know you have such a filthy mind. 

He knew the dirty jokes or the innuendos but that one sentence had him imagining what he would do to you. Solely based on the message you sent which started the whole teasing back and forth. So according to him you started it.

You bite your lip as he moves his fingers over his neck and then back to his lips. 

“Doll? Did you hear what I asked?” He raises one eyebrow cockily. He knows you didn’t hear shit. You aren’t even paying attention that the show has started. 

“I um, yeah…” you lie, what was the harm. 

“Really, doll, did you really hear me?” His voice dips in baritone, deep and rich that surges through you. 

You keen, shaking your head to admit you did not comprehend a word. 

“Oh Doll, what am I going to do with you? Maybe I should let you run your lips wherever my fingers just were, you want to do that don’t you?” He questions, he’s removed the third screen so now its only you and him. 

You swallow dryly. 

“Tell me, or should I have my lips on your skin?” He smirks as you shiver at the prospect. 

He was going to take this slow, these were uncharted waters for the two of you, a new aspect of your relationship. 

“Use your words, baby.” He prompts again. 

“Y-yes.” You squeak out. 

“Yes what doll? You want to explore my skin? Or you want me to explore yours? Tell me, tell me exactly how you want this to go. If you want to stop let me know.” He watches you intently azure eyes deepening with lust for you. 

“Want, I want to explore your skin.” You say, he smiles. 

“Good girl, so good for me. Where would you start from?” He puts the phone down where you can still see him clearly. 

“From your temple, trail them to your jaw.” You inform, watching as he closes his eyes and tracings his index and middle finger along where you’ve spoken of your lips. 

“Keep going.” He instructs and you feel your clit pulse. 

“Both sides of your neck, then along the v of the t-shirt and,”

He opens his eyes, his chest rising and falling a little quicker. 

“I’d, I’d take off your shirt.” You say, and watch as he takes off his shirt.

“Feel so soft against my skin, baby. So hard for you.” He praises, you feel yourself grow wetter as he trails his hand over his upper body as you say, even over the scars that you would kiss. His dog tags glimmer against his skin. Your eyes drinking in every bit of him.

“You’re beautiful,” You breathe as you admire him, every surface of him just breathtaking. 

You squirm when he smirks, “Will you do as I say doll? Will you be a good girl for me? Pleased me so well.” He says and watches as you bite your lip, nodding eagerly. 

“Only with you. Trust you completely.” You tell him and he smiles warmly. 

“Thank you for trusting me, Doll.” He watches as you shift nervously in anticipation. 

“Set the phone down,” You maintain eye contact as you set down your phone but keeping your upper body in frame. 

“Run your left hand’s fingers along your jaw, eyes closed.” Bucky instructs. You follow, a small whimper escaping as your skin heats at his words. 

“Slowly undo the buttons of your PJs, such beautiful skin, can’t wait to mark it as mine, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Me littering your skin with love-bites, letting everyone know you’re mine.” 

“Yes, please.” You whimper at his words.

“Go on play with your nipples get them hard for me.” Bucky watches, as your shirt falls halfway off your shoulders, the light illuminating you oh so beautifully. He wishes he was there; exploring your skin with his hand and mouth. 

“Look at you so pretty, so fucking beautiful, following everything I say, are you wet for me baby? Go on, check.” He coaxes you and you run your fingers along your slick folds, whimpering you nod. 

“Gotta show me baby, need to see how wet you’ve gotten for me.” 

You watch his arm move to unbuckle his jeans he moves his hand along his cock, hissing at the contact and then groaning as he watches your fingers glisten in the light. 

“All for me?” 

“All for you, James.”

He groans again, “Touch yourself baby, tell me what do you want me to do?” 

You begin to circle your clit, a mewl escaping your lips. Your skin flushed, Bucky watches as your breasts rise and fall with each breath. 

“Such pretty sounds, bet I could make you scream louder with just my fingers inside you. You would like that right? Fuck just thinking about your warm, tight cunt makes me want to cum, but gotta hold off need to make you feel good.” he says, “go on, make faster circles over your clit, gather your slick.” 

You follow every word. 

“Flick your nipples, keep them hard.”

Your back arches at the sensations, heat blooms in your stomach as you feel your orgasm building. You watch Bucky with hooded eyes his movements gaining momentum. Whimpers and soft moans of his name. 

“Look at you, so beautiful, so fucking beautiful and those pretty little sounds, fuck.”

“Want; want my mouth around your cock.” You say and Bucky groans. 

“Fuck, baby, you look so pretty, you’re close aren’t you? Go on trace the letters of my name on your clit.” 

You whimper the movements foreign but so good as you write his name onto your clit.

“Fuck-fuck, James—,” You arch up again your orgasm even closer. 

“Go faster baby need to cum, you want to cum for me don’t you? Be a good girl and cum for me.”  

His words reach your core and you cum hard with a chorus of his name, breathless and blissfully you watch his mouth part as he moans your name, his hand stroking over his cock imagining fucking your pretty little mouth with your sweet eyes looking up at him. 

He makes a mess of his hand and looks up at you, smirking when he hears your moan at seeing him come undone. 

“So good for me baby. Can’t wait to taste you. Going to stay buried between your thighs.” 

You look away, flustered and your shyness creeping into your chest. 

“Doll, we’ve gotta clean up okay? Then I’ll make sure you fall asleep, did so well for me, haven’t cum that hard in years. Absolutely feral for you.” He admits and you preen under his praise following his guidance to clean up and then you tuck yourself into bed. You give him a soft sleepy smile. 

“You enjoyed it, right?” Bucky questions, worried if he did anything wrong. 

“I did Bucky, did you?”

“So much Doll, I don’t think I can ever encompass how fucking sexy you are into a sentence.” He admits and you hide your face in the pillow. 

“No, no hiding from me, you’re fucking beautiful baby and I’m going to make sure when I meet you, you will feel me even afterwards.” He assures with that devilish smirk. 

“First we’ll have to see if I can take you, I don’t know if you’ll fit.” You blush as you admit to your worry. 

“Oh you can take me baby, I’ll fit inside your sweet warm cunt.” He promises. 

Then a lightbulb goes off in your sleep and orgasm hazed mind. 

“We missed the premiere.” You pout. 

“We will watch it tomorrow at a reasonable hour now sleep or do I need to wear you out more?” He licks his lips and your clit pulses but you shake your head. 

“Good girl. Now I’m here till you fall asleep. Sweet dreams my doll.” He adores you as you begin to drift off trusting him in this moment. 

“Only sweet when you’re in my dreams.” You mumble before pulling the bear he gave closer and being pulled in by slumber. 

In the second month of dating him, you realised you are in love with James Barnes. It wasn’t some big moment or him staying awake the night keeping a video call on so he’d know you’re okay while you were down with the viral flu. 

Nor was is in the soft gasps of your name, in moments that pooled warmth in your belly. 

Maybe it was just one day your gaze lingered upon him as he worked on the code while you studied, and you could see everything with him. All of those future milestones. Everything with your Bucky.

You yet had to say the three words, trying to understand and come up with a way to make the moment even more meaningful. Something that would be a memory for him to hold onto in moments where you couldn’t be there to get to him first.

The thoughts of him that occupy your mind in the middle of the class break when your phone begins to vibrate in your pocket. Bucky was video calling? 

You did the mental math, it was five a.m. for him. Furrowing your brows you tuck your phone back into the pocket standing up and requesting the professor to let you out to use the washroom.

Once out of the classroom you jog to the washroom, quickly answering the call.

“Hey Bucky—,”

“No, no, no, get them out!” Bucky’s distressed voice fills the washroom. You can only make out his ceiling which is shakily into view.

“Bucky?” You ask again, getting worried.

“Please, we need to fall back, get me the fucking order!” 

You hear a thump and the screen gets covered in black but his sobs reach you.

“James? James! It’s me, please please wake up, you’re having a nightmare.” You try to say loud enough incase you were muffled by the pillow. 

“Bucky please, try to come out of it, you’re here with me. With your doll.” His sobs don’t relent, you run a hand down your face, sweat beading along your forehead and dipping down you neck.

The pillow moves and you can see the ceiling again.

“Bucky? Bucky!” You call out again and the phone moves. A flash of white on the screen as Alpine looks down at you.

“Hey, Alpine, I don’t know if you will understand this but push the phone towards your dad’s head please—, Alpine no not—,” The call cuts off as Alpine boops her nose towards the screen.

“Shit, shit, shit.” You call back the line ringing and your distress growing hoping he doesn’t panic seeing your name if the call wakes him from his nightmare.

Alpine jumps on Bucky’s chest as the phone rings under her. He sits up running a tired hand along his head, and then reaching for the phone. 

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Your voice fills his room as he answers worry taking over him at your tone.

“Doll? Are you okay?” He peers at you, trying to get a visual if you’re physically fine.

“Oh god, oh thank god, you’re okay. Fuck.” You slide down against the wall, releasing a long exhale. 

“Me?” he questions, brows furrowed in confusion.

“You called, I, think you were having a nightmare… I got worried because you sounded in distress and pain and then Alpine came in and she sat on the phone I think—,”

“Baby, breathe.” Bucky requests.

You pause your thoughts and ramblings, taking an inhale then exhale. 

“I’m sorry I worried you, I’ll keep my phone away the next—,”

“No. No you aren’t going to do that, and Bucky even if by mistake you dialled my number in distress I don’t care, I want to be there for you whenever you need me.” 

“But I don’t want you worrying this PTSD and nightmares are an issue for me to deal with alone—,”

“James, I love you. You aren’t alone in trying to navigate through this, sorry but when you asked me to be your girlfriend that includes moments when you want to isolate away.” You try to sound stern. 

Bucky’s eyes are wide and jaw slack. 

“What?” You worry again did you say something wrong. 

“You love me?” He asks and you close your eyes. 

“I was supposed to plan something nice to say it to you so it would be a happy memory.”

“Say it again.” The raw emotion in his voice tugs at your heart. 

“I love you.” You look intently into his cobalt gaze and becomes clouded with tears. 

“I love you.” He whispers, and you gaze at him with longing. 

“The lilies? They also signify a friendship turned into love.” He reminds you of the flowers. 

“Like us.” You realise, “Bucky, thats how long you knew?” 

“I had a feeling since we started talking didn’t say anything cause I was worried now I feel like an idiot for wasting precious time.” He shakes his head, chuckling. 

“I love you.” You tell him again because nothing else is able to convey what you can say to him how much weight those three words hold only the two of you know. 

“I love you. These three words they hold so much weight, Doll. I don’t know what else to say.” He admits and you give him a watery smile cause you both are crying. 

Because somewhere along the roads that were filled with torment and storms you found each other.

Even though oceans separate you from him. 

Even though miles expand between the palms of your hands. 

You found each other. 

Gave each other the strength to fight everyday. 

Provided laughter in the midst of chaos that should leave you in tears. 

So even though he can’t hold you close to him and you can’t rest your head against his chest as you both confess the love you have for one another. 

Even if he can’t cup your face, bend down and kiss you with everything inside him. 

Both of you know that he is bound to you and you are bound to him by three simple words. 

AN: hope you enjoyed the chapter! reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

taglist is open! please comment or message to be tagged!

permanent tags: @stevesmewmew @pandaxnienke

fic taglist: @harry03bb @et-homephone @sebsgirl71479 @blackwidownat2814 @littleone2223 @elbell20-blog

#bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #best friend bucky #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x female reader #buck barnes fic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #james barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #sebastian stan #bucky x yn #the winter soldier x you #frostironfudge #bucky barnes x plus size reader #james buchanan barnes x you #white wolf #bucky barnes angst #bucky is the best #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #modern bucky barnes #modern au #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky fic

[xjoonchildx]

Heeeellllppp Ana!! What was Yoongi thinking posting that much skin?!?! All I can think about is how long it would have taken to gracefully arrange and press on all those flowers on his neck 😩😩😩

*clears throat* I apologise for what my unhinged mind came up with.

---

You take in a shaky breath, praying your fingers wouldn’t betray you like your lungs just did. The pieces are too delicate, too intricate for you to fuck up.

Yoongi tips his head up, offering his neck to you, and your fingertips buzz in anticipation of his delicious warmth. You lean down, ignoring the goosebumps that prickle a path down to your core. It’s only when the first notes of his woody cologne tickle your nose that you find yourself involuntarily clenching around nothing.

Your job was a dangerous one. You knew that before you signed up for it. You thought you were strong enough to endure it, to maintain professionalism. Yet here you were; weak, wounded and wet.

Lost in your racing thoughts, you don’t realise when your dwindling concentration nearly topples you off your small step stool. Immediately, Yoongi’s hands fly up to your waist. “Woah. Steady, now.” 

Each deep rumble summons a new gush from within you, desperate trails of your arousal pooling in your already sticky panties. You clench your thighs in vain, knowing there’s only one person that could douse the roaring fire within you.

“Last piece now,” you meekly whisper, not trusting your voice.

You lean back back into him, nose almost touching his pulse point as you place the elegant flower on his collar bone. To your horror, the semi-dried glue makes a feeble, half-hearted attempted to hold onto the flower before dropping it.

Fuck.

You stare at Yoongi with fearful eyes, only to be met with a wicked smirk. “Aren’t you gonna get that?”

Now you were really done for.

You gulp, a shiver running down your spine as you brace yourself to look down.

His gaze drops down and yours follows suit…

…to find the flower adhered perfectly atop his oozing cockhead.

Where can I find some holy water pls?😭

e -- i. eye. aye.

FIRST of all, how did you just come up with that in a quick sitting? the talent! i'm shook.

second of all, that mental picture you painted is going to live in my mind forever. wow. wow. wow. wow.

🥴🥴🥴

#anagrams 💕

[septembersghost]

Dean Winchester has two birthdays. there's January 24th, of course, the day he was born to his parents, to his name, to a road unfurling ahead that none of them could possibly foresee (and if they could have, where would they have swerved to try to turn it differently? was there even a fork in the path to take? were the wheels unstoppably set in motion?). but at the age of four, that birthday, human and fragile as it is, curled to ash, faded, watercolors leeched by time. birthday candles and balloons are hard to come by when you're moving from one cheap motel to the other.

his second birthday is something else. September 18. he's technically still only 29, but he's nothing of the sort. he's spent longer than the span of that time in hell, tortured turned torturer, suffering every second from machinations beyond his awareness, where they wanted him broken, then broke him out. he awakens in the dark, alone, the walls of a wooden casket pressing in, the flame of a lighter threatening to steal too much oxygen. the grave is a womb unto itself. he kicks and claws his way out, bruised and bloody knuckles, caked in cemetery dirt, in bleached and brittle grass, in coffin splinters, a livid brand on his arm, sun beating down, and the world is so quiet at first. the screaming has stilled everywhere. he emerges with his body pieced back together, lacking its physical scars, yet every freckle and eyelash and bone is in place. the scars reside elsewhere. heart. mind. soul deep. second birth, he doesn't cry, and there's no one to immediately hold him (they will, after they douse him in holy water and after he cuts himself open with a knife to prove he's human. after they lunge at him with barely restrained violence and disbelief that he could be there. then they hold on like they were drowning and he's dry land, if only for a moment). homecoming when you can never go home. homecoming when you are the home.

resurrection is a strange process - all is new and shining and old and rotted at once, your ephemeral death will always exist, even if the rough hewn grave marker stands watch over nothing but a hole in the ground. the world you know shifts on its axis just enough that you, and only you, feel the change in gravity. you're never without that death now. never without the shadow of the pit. but the world is also bright with vibrancy and sparks more to life with you in it, and the sensory lure of joy and action and love resides there, and people will always need saving. this is how you learn to exist, dead and alive at once. rebirth is walking back into danger and thinking, I can bear this, because I must. rebirth is remembering the worst possible horror and still smiling gently before you wrap yourself in loved ones' arms. rebirth is asking - why choose me? and then defiantly making choices all your own.

burial to birth, there's now very little difference.

you don't think you deserve to be saved, but it's a clarion call, clear and resounding and echoing across the planes of heaven and the chasms of hell, whispering and howling, the miracle bell of it ringing with every step you take, every life you touch, every time the light strikes your quick hands, reflects in your green eyes. Dean Winchester is saved. breathe in anew, exhale amen.

#WHAT IS THIS WE JUST DONT KNOW #i love to write things that don't make sense with a splitting headache #dean winchester #supernatural #* #dean feelings #lazarus rising #i love him so much #you're alive in my head #in the cracks of light i dreamed of you; it was real enough to get me through #what is death to dean winchester? the concept means nothing! the entity is fascinated by him! #darkling i listen and for many a time i have been half in love with easeful death #happy resurrection day darling you will always emerge from every tomb #i know you're not supposed to change perspective tenses like this yes i did it intentionally because i don't respect rules 😘

[gotnofucks]

What do you think Lee or other Seb and Chris characters would be like with a tall, slim and very uncurvy woman? Like only a couple of inches shorter than them, and she never feels feminine enough or sexy enough for them?

We'll start this by establishing that every person is pretty regardless of their body type. Tall, short, chubby or skinny, different complexion and smooth or furry.

As a short girl, this is for my tall skinny sisters who have a difficult time loving themselves:

Warning: sometimes dark themes, allusions to smut, possessiveness, body image issues, breeding kink, 18+ ONLY

+++++

Steve Rogers: The Avengers Charity ball was a big event and though Steve hated the public attention, he's excited to do this with you. You've been dating a few months and coming out in public was something Steve was looking forward to.

He had decorated your neck with marks to show the world who you belonged to. The territorial captain was itching to claim you in front of the world when you told him you'd rather not go.

"What?" He asked, "Why not?"

You bit your lip, shifting on your feet as you looked at him.

"It's nothing...just don't feel like it" You mumbled.

"Is it because we're going to fast? You don't wanna tell the world about us?" Steve asked and you frantically shook your head.

"No, Stevie." You took a deep breath. "It's just...you're Captain America. The people expect you to be with a womanly woman, someone who complements you. I am...me. Tall, not large enough boobs, my ass is skinny and -"

You would have went on had Steve not pulled you in by your waist and crushed your mouth to his. You kissed back, running your hand through his soft hair before he pulled back, panting.

"Are you kidding me? You're listing everything I love about you. I don't have to bend down to kiss you, you breasts feel perfect in my hands and that ass? Baby, that ass is so perfect if people knew the thoughts I get when I see it, they'll douse me with holy water. Captain America doesn't need a womanly woman to compliment him. You’re not my arm candy, I am yours because you’re the perfect one. You get me?"

Choked up with tears you nod, letting him tuck your head in his neck.

Bucky Barnes: He's been looking at you for weeks, just the way you've been looking at him. During training, he makes sure to stay behind you, correcting your posture by putting his hands on you.

For someone who'd lived more than a century, Bucky Barnes had no patience anymore and he promptly sat down his ass in front of you, making you stop mid-chew.

"Why haven't you asked me out on a date yet?" He asked you, the red Henley he wore stretching across his broad chest. You swallowed quickly, sputtering.

"Sargent?" You squeaked, unprepared to be accosted like this.

"I want you, you want me. We've practically been eye fucking each other for months. Why haven't you asked me out yet?" He snapped.

You bite your lip before wetting them with your tongue, unsure how to say this.

"You...you don't wanna go out with some other agent? Maybe Shally?" You asked and winced when he scowled at you. "I'm only saying this 'cause she has you know, a better body. She's...prettier?"

In this moment you realised how scared Bucky's enemies may feel on the battlefield because the expression on his face had you terrified. And turned on.

"You fucking with me doll? I don't want her. I love your body. You're almost my height, think of how easy 69-ing would be! You're perfect in every way. The way you kick those men's asses in the gym...fuck I always need a cold shower after that."

Your mouth dropped open and a small smile lit your face.

"So, you don't mind me being strong and lean and not... feminine?" You asked tentatively and Bucky smirked.

"Come into the bedroom with me and I'll show you how feminine you can be" He challenged.

Really, who were you to say no to him.

Ransom Drysdale: Heels. He got you fucking 6-inch heels. You were nearly his height, already being taunted by your friends for this. And he got you heels.

"Ransom, take them back. You know I don't do heels." You say and he scoffs, pushing them back at you.

"Like shit you don't do them. I want to see you in them, and wear that lingerie I got you." He orders and you frown.

"No Ransom, I just - I don't like them." You said and he turned away from his phone to raise an eyebrow at you.

"I've seen you eyeing that flimsy scarp of fabric for weeks in the mall. You like it, now wear it for me so I can admire it on you." He said.

You finger the delicate material of the bra and panty and wondered how amazing it would feel against your skin. But then you looked at the small size and squeezed your eyes shut. There was a reason you insisted Ransom turn off the lights when you fucked.

"I like them. Just...not on me" You whispered. A finger pulled your chin up and you met Ransom's blue eyes, his gorgeous face peering into you like you were the dumbest person he knew.

"The fuck?" He asked, a warning growl in his tone that had you rubbing your legs.

"Ransom...I'm...not made for these. These heels, I'll be taller than you. I don't have the body to make this gorgeous lingerie come to life. You...I don't want you to see me like that." You say, almost tearing up.

Ransom looked livid for a moment before he gently stood you up, shushing your protests as he one by one stripped you naked. You looked down, ashamed of yourself as he forced you into the tall heels, his head now below yours.

"Look at me" He rasped and you obeyed. His eyes went from your head to down, appreciatively over your breasts and flat stomach and then to the vee between your thighs.

"You're perfect." He said, head dipping only a little to suck a nipple in his mouth. "Perfect figure, perfect face, perfect height. You're the only perfect thing I have in my fucked up life."

You put your hands on his shoulder to stable your wobbling feet, and he held you close.

"Wear this lingerie. I want to tear it off your body with my teeth. And the lights stay on today."

Lee Bodecker: You pushed down on your skirt again, hiding your thin legs the best you could. The demure and pretty girls in the neighborhood snickered as you passed by them, their necklines supporting a beautiful cleavage.

You walked into your home and quickly got to making the dinner. While you didn't look like a normal lady, you were one. You could cook and clean and your daddy hoped that would be enough to get you married and off his hands.

You got dressed for you knew there would be guests tonight and tied your apron around your narrow waist, serving the food on the table for your father and the Sheriff. He came in his uniform, the hat set down on the table and eyes that followed you.

It was no surprise when he cornered you later after your father was drunk and passed out. His hardness dug into you, sweet breath on your face and nose rubbing against yours.

"Where you been all day sweetheart?" He asked, hands groping you like they'd done a thousand times before. You whimpered, tilting your head to allow him access to your neck.

"Shopping for the dinner. Daddy doesn't like stale food." You say and Lee bites you.

"What've I told you about calling him daddy in front of me? I'm the only daddy ya need." He scolded. You waited for his kiss, lips puckered when he stilled. His hands were on your breasts and he paused, reaching inside despite your protests to pull out the rolled up cloth inside.

"What the fuck is this?" He angrily asked and you hid your face in embarrassment. You were tired of having small breasts, tired of not being as pretty as others.

"Just..I wanted more meat on me." You said sullenly and Lee twisted his face in a scowl, pulling you forward with your hair.

"You're not doing this shit again. You want big fucking breasts then ask me to put a baby in you and I will. You want more meat on your body then I'll fuck a child in you right now. You get me?" He snarled and you nodded, clinging to him.

"I...I am sorry. I wanted to be pretty for you." You sob and Lee pulls you closer, taking your hands and pressing them in his belly.

"Sweetheart, you are fuckin' gorgeous. My pretty girl. Daddy's best girl. You don't need more meat. I already got enough for both of us. Kay?" He asked and kissed you deep.

Andy Barber: You hid your insecurities well. Andy didn't give you a reason to have many. He loved you, you knew that. But sometimes, you wondered if he'd have preferred a more bountiful booty to hold at night.

When you tried to eat a little extra than your stomach permitted and puked the next day, he sat you down and asked point blank what was wrong. It was difficult to lie to him, not only because he was a great lawyer but because Andy knew you too well to not know when you're hiding something.

"I wanted to gain some weight I suppose." You said. Andy titled his head, eyes going over your body before he frowned.

"But you're perfect" He said, as if confused. "You can't overeat baby. Talk to me, what's wrong?"

You bit your lip. Dating Andy was daunting. He was someone who had lines of woman waiting to warm his bed. You were surprised when he asked you out, you of all the other softer women. You, your flat figure of the other hourglass ones.

He was an alpha, he was the master. He would have looked so good next to a timid, tiny girl who would easily fold into his body for warmth. And yet, here he was with you.

"I have long legs" You blurted and didn't look at him. "I am taller than almost all women here, I don't have a plump ass you can bounce quarters off and definitely not a chest that is spilling out. I don't know Andy, I...I am not enough I guess."

You wanted to cry after admitting this and maybe you would have had Andy not knelt before you and cupped your face to kiss you deeply.

"Oh honey, you silly thing. You're more than enough. Absolutely stunning." He whispered. He trailed his hands up from your ankle to your thighs and you stifled a moan.

"Your legs are long, and I love them. So much length to run my tongue on" He continued. "You ass may not bounce quarters, but it bounces my balls well when I'm fucking your from behind. And your breasts better not be spilling anywhere, they are mine. The only thing they need to spill is either my seed or the milk that'll be in there after I breed you. You understand?"

Heat rose up from your chest to your neck and ears, eyes watering with love and desire. You put your long legs on Andy's shoulder and hugged him with your thighs, asking him softly to show you his praises again.

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #lee bodecker x reader #andy barber x reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader #ransom x reader #lee x reader #andy x reader #steve Rogers #bucky barnes #ransom drysdale #lee bodecker #hoedecker club #andy barber

[phykios]

honesty and promise me, part 5 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

 Annabeth is making her periodic pilgrimage to the gynecologist when she gets Leo's call. It's very fitting--two uncomfortable and invasive things for the price of one. She answers her phone, ignoring the doctor's chastising frown. Surely she can place her new IUD while Annabeth deals with whatever Leo wants.

 "What are you doing on the 18th?" he asks, about the only type of hello she ever gets from Leo.

 The two of them never really grew out of pretending not to like each other, after they had gotten over their initial dislike. When he and Piper first got to Miss Minerva's, more or less straight out of juvie after Piper's dad made a lot of calls and called in a lot of favors, she and Leo had really hated each other. They used to fight over everything, from Piper's attention to the position of captain of the Mathletes team. And also, over Leo hating a rich white girl on principle, which, in retrospect, is totally fair. But then, by a weird twist of fate, they wound up in Boston together.

 If Annabeth had to choose between hanging out with her creepy, Norse mythology-obsessed uncle and hanging out with Leo, she'd pick Leo every time. They had gone through a lot together, things both big and small.

 "Of August?" she asks.

 "Please be still, Ms. Chase," says her doctor. Annabeth rolls her eyes.

 "Duh."

 Wracking her thoughts she can't think of any prior commitments she might have had. Maybe there's a concert that day, but if she can't remember, it probably wasn't that important anyway. "Not much."

 "Good, because we have plans."

 She frowns. "Piper didn't mention any--"

 "No, you and I have plans. I'll see you in Philly, yeah?"

 Philadelphia? Ew. "Why Philly?"

 "Our Smarter House thing won an award."

 "No shit?"

 "Eta Industries Award. The gala is on the 18th. You're my plus one."

 She sucks in air through her teeth, readjusting her hips as unobtrusively as possible. Eta Industries was… a very big deal. "Isn't that, like, an engineering specific award? Maybe you should accept it by yourself." She'd be better off staying out of the limelight for this one, she thinks, even as some part of her longs once again for recognition.

 Something electric whirs in the background, tinny and buzzing. "I'll see you on the 18th, then," says Leo, not having heard a word she said. "Also, you've been summoned to the castle."

 "Leo--" she jumps as the gyno touches something she really shouldn't have.

 "No arguments, she's expecting you today at two. Adios!" He clicks off.

 "Okay, Ms. Chase," says the doctor, a little too chipper for Annabeth's taste. "You should be all set."

 Annabeth leaves the doctor's office with her brand new IUD, a handful of medical literature which immediately gets tossed in the trash, and a sinking feeling in her gut as she gets on a train to Brooklyn, headed to Piper's place for another annoying and unnecessary fashion show. It's not that she doesn't enjoy being Piper's model--it's a position she's held since their time at Miss Minerva's, and it's never really a hardship to be told how gorgeous she is--but Piper has a way of just... getting information out of her that she doesn’t always want to share.

 Stopping off early, Annabeth gives herself a moment to walk down the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, to settle her nerves and indulge herself a bit. That skyline gets her every time.

 Turning down Pierrepont Street, she is once again struck by just how quiet the city can be. Manhattan is loud, rude, in-your-face, almost an entirely different world from the stately, deafeningly silent Brooklyn. For Annabeth, who is incapable of falling asleep without city horns blaring, it wigs her out a little.

 She barely has time to ring the doorbell on Piper's dad's place before the girl herself wrenches it open, grabbing Annabeth's hand and yanking her inside. "You're late!" she trills, suffering what Annabeth can only assume is the onset of a caffeine overdose.

 "I thought I had until two."

 "That was before I had the best idea."

 The brownstone is a mess, as per usual, reams of fabric tossed over every available surface, enough dressforms strewn about to make it look like Piper is hosting a party exclusively populated by headless zombies, adorned with a warehouse's worth of half-finished dresses and jackets. Based on the loud fabrics and structured angles, it looks like Piper is in the middle of a Klimt-ian phase of inspiration. Annabeth eyes a bright gold gown with a huge, extended collar, embroidered with silver eyes, the raw edges trailing the floor. "Please tell me this isn't your idea."

 "First of all," Piper releases her arm as they enter her kitchen-turned-photo studio, gingerly stepping over a box of assorted beads, "even though it would look amazing on you, that dress is for an actual paying client. Second of all--" she snatches up a dressform from its position behind the camera, setting it down in front of her with a flourish. "This is my idea."

 Annabeth was right--Piper is definitely on a Klimt-ian kick.

 Pulled straight from her art history classes, the dress looks like a two dimensional painting come to life, a stunning skirt like a column of liquid silver descending onto the black mat, pleats like fluted columns precisely draped over the dressform's hips… and not much else. Annabeth points. “Is that it?”

 Piper makes a face. "I have a bodice, promise. Now go take that shit off."

 Annabeth looks down at her repurposed The Police shirt, fished out of a thrift store bin some months ago, shirt collar cut and sides resewn to bring the waistline in. "I like this shirt."

 "Oh, I like the shirt plenty," she agrees. "But you could stand to wear a nicer pair of jeans."

 She does have a point there--her jeans are clinging to life at this point, the knees and hems all but obliterated, strings of fabric valiantly attempting to hold their original shape. "Fine. Be right back."

 When she emerges from the bathroom a minute later in just her bra and panties, Piper has laid out another bolt of fabric in that same color, silver with a blue shift beneath the studio lights. Piper, bent over with a strip of measuring tape, looks up at her, then squints. "So who is he?"

 Annabeth starts. "Excuse me?"

 "The guy you've been seeing."

 How... the fuck does Piper always know these things? "I don't know what you're talking about."

 She flicks her eyes down to Annabeth's thigh, Annabeth following her gaze to the remnants of the bruise that Percy had left there with his mouth two days ago. Dammit.

 Piper tsks, a smile distorting the sound. "Naughty, naughty, Annabeth."

 "How do you know it wasn't from a girl?" she asks, petulant.

 "Because if it had been a girl, you wouldn't be nearly so defensive."

 Shit. "We've been friends way too long," Annabeth grumbles.

 "That we have," says Piper. "And out of respect for our friendship, I will refrain from grilling you about him until you are more comfortable sharing."

 "So, for a few hours?"

 She shrugs. "More or less."

 "I suppose you want me to thank you for holding back."

 "Don't thank me yet," she grins, wide and toothy. "I've been cooped up here working on my collection for three days, and I am dying to talk to someone."

 Annabeth sighs, but obediently raises her arms, making room as Piper crouches down to pin the skirt on her. "Okay, you got me. I'm seeing this guy."

 "Seeing or seeing-seeing?"

 "Just seeing," she clarifies. "It's pretty casual."

 "Can't be that casual if you're telling me about it," Piper points out.

 Fuck. This is why she never tells Piper about her hookups. "You're the one who asked."

 "Another business bro, I assume?"

 "He's--" Piper swats at her as she automatically sucks her stomach in, their long held code for "stay put." "He's a dancer."

 She hums, arranging pleats over Annabeth's knees. "Like on Broadway?"

 "Ballet."

 Piper glances up at her, eyes sparkling. “Un danseur! Ooh la la,” she trills. “What’s his name?”

 “I can just leave,” Annabeth says, distinctly not thinking about how Percy will occasionally slip into French whenever he stubs his toe.

 “Okay, okay, no more boy talk.” Piper moves in front of her, adjusting the fabric about her waist. “Tell me about the thing you just won with Leo.”

 “I had honestly forgotten about it,” she says, lying a little, pulling her arms forward. “You remember his master’s thesis?”

 “The shmart kishen thing, right?” Piper asks around the tape measure in her mouth.

 Leo, the prodigal boy that he is, had spent his last year of school dedicated to a singular problem faced by people around the world: the sudden, out of control kitchen fire. Using very complicated electronics and engineering that Annabeth does not understand, he devised a handful of mechanisms to sense, contain, and ultimately douse random fires as soon as they popped up. Annabeth came on as his design partner after he had graduated and had gotten some funding to conceptualize an entire safe house.

 “Well, it just won an Eta Industries award.”

 Her head snaps up, hands freezing in their tracks. “Holy shit.”

 “Yeah.”

 “Congrats.”

 “Thanks,” she shrugs as Piper gets up to grab some more fabric. “I mean, it was mostly Leo’s doing. I just made sure he didn’t leave any stray pipes around.”

 Holding out her arms again, Piper slides them through the sleeves of a heavy, corset-like piece, structured and straight and very forgiving on Annabeth’s lack of curves. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short,” she says. “I’m sure your skills as a guinea pig were very valuable.”

 “Are you ever going to let that go?” Annabeth asks, she who has literally burnt pasta while it was submerged in water.

 “You’re just lucky my dad was out of town that weekend. Have you decided what you’re going to wear to the awards ceremony?”

 She shoots her friend a strange look. “I thought I was wearing this?” she gestures to the unfinished silver gown currently making her feel like an absolute goddess.

 Piper makes a face. “What do I look like, the fucking Flash? This isn’t going to be ready for another thirty hours, at least. I’ve got decals to add, Swarovskis to bead, not to mention all the hand-stitching on the neckline because for whatever reason my machine has decided to hate me this week.”

 “Okay, well,” says Annabeth, appropriately cowed, “then I guess I’ll wear the black one you gave me.”

 “2019 fall/winter?”

 Annabeth nods.

 “Styling?”

 “Luke gave me this really nice scarf for my birthday.”

 Throwing her head back, she groans.

 “What? What’s wrong?”

 “You’re so boring,” she moans, pulling Annabeth’s hair out of the way. “Let me guess, you’re going to pair it with the black shrug and opaque nude tights.”

 “Well… yeah, I was.”

 “Exactly! Boring.” Coming back around, she pushes Annabeth lightly into the light, before taking her place behind the camera. “You could do so much with that dress and you choose to make it boring. Why not some fishnets? Or a big statement necklace?”

 Annabeth waits after a few shutter clicks to answer. “Because I doubt that the people at Eta Industries are going to be big fans of my tattoos.”

 “That is a bald-faced lie and you know it,” Piper says. “Your tattoos and piercings are gorgeous and you would look absolutely rocking with them. Knock all the old farts right off their feet. Turn.”

 Obediently, Annabeth rotates, letting Piper snap off as many pictures as she likes. “This isn’t a Vogue event, Pipes,” she says, rolling her eyes where her friend can’t see them. “Punk isn’t exactly accepted practice yet.”

 “Punk was the Met Gala theme almost a decade ago, babe. It has filtered down from Vogue. It's practically cerulean now. Side.”

 Annabeth turns again, keeping her eyes straight. Side-eye would ruin the shot, no matter how much she wants to give it.

 “I will never understand why you both refuse to wear halfway decent jeans and then refuse to go guns out in my dresses that demand it. I can almost guarantee you that Leo will show up in those stupid suspenders with grease on his face. And you’ll have to get him to leave his tool belt in the car.”

 “Then it’s probably for the best that I have a modicum of professionalism, huh?”

 Piper leans out from behind the camera, glaring. “At the very least,” she hedges, “will you let me set you up with some shoes?”

 “I don’t know…”

 “You are not allowed to wear those horrid Manolo pumps you wear everywhere. And your nude Louboutins won’t look right with the black.”

 “What did you have in mind?”

 Piper’s grin is evil, and the way she scampers out of the room means she’s got something she’d been trying to force on Annabeth for a long time.

 Five minutes later, Annabeth is presented with a set of black strappy sandals, its edges detailed in a gold zipper, with safety pin pull to match. She frowns. “Are you sure? They look kind of… hardcore for something like this.”

 “They’re Versace,” Piper says. “I was not lying about punk’s democratization.”

 Well. They are pretty cool.

 “It’s either this or the McQueen boots. They have studs.”

 Annabeth sighs, holding out her hand. Piper squeals, bouncing a little, wrapping her in a brief, but exuberant hug, kissing her cheek with a loud, wet, smack. “You’re the best!”

 “I haven’t even done anything.”

 “I am saving up favors to cash in. Now,” she releases Annabeth, retreating behind the camera. “If you’ve got some time, can I borrow your head? I’m working on a helmet and all my mannequins are busy.”

 ***

 “Hey,” Percy begins. It is so late at night, the dawn is on the edge of breaking, and they are both exhausted from some particularly good sex. Which is saying something, because all their sex is particularly good. “You doing anything on the 18th?”

 “Yeah,” She says, distractedly, snuggling down into his bed. The fact that she’s also snuggling into him is just a coincidence.

 “Oh.”

 “Why?”

 “Nothing. Was going to invite you to a thing if you weren’t.” She nods her head against his shoulder and falls asleep in his arms, thinking absolutely nothing about it.

 She continues to think nothing of it on the train to Philadelphia on the 18th, half-asleep and listening to Paramore to pass the time, blasting Misery Business on repeat as she changes in her hotel room.

 The Eta Industries event is pretty much exactly what she expected: a lot of old rich white people milling about, sipping champagne and verbally circle jerking each other, the insipid strains of classical music spilling out of the ballroom as Annabeth steps up to claim her name tag. “Name?” asks the young, college-aged girl, skimming her printed guest list over the rim of her glasses.

 “Annabeth Chase.”

 She runs a long fingernail over the assorted collection of name tags, before settling on the correct one, handing it to Annabeth, her star tattoo on the inside of her wrist free and open to anyone who would care to look. “Here you are, Ms. Chase,” she says, smiling. “Have a wonderful night!”

 Automatically, Annabeth goes to pin it on Luke’s scarf, before she remembers that something is already occupying that place--Percy’s Acropolis pin. She had taken to keeping it in her pocket these days, something of a good luck charm, and thought that it might… she doesn’t know, maybe send a subconscious signal to Percy that she’s thinking of him. Even though there is, quite literally, no way he could know, she hopes that maybe he can sense it, and that maybe he’s thinking about her, too.

 Ugh. She snatches up a flute of champagne from a wandering waiter, eager to get that thought out of her head, making a beeline straight for the refreshments table. It’s there that Leo finds her, not five minutes later, munching on some chocolate covered strawberries.

 “And here I thought you might ditch me entirely,” he says, even as he bumps her shoulder. True to form, he is absolutely, 100% dressed in those stupid suspenders, a smudge of grease behind his ear.

 “You’ve got a…” Annabeth trails off, motioning behind her own ear.

 “Huh? Oh!” He snatches up a napkin, rubbing discreetly. “Thanks.”

 She squints. Something about him is distinctly different. “Are you taller?”

 Kicking out a foot, he wiggles it, triumphant. “Platform shoes.”

 “Seriously?”

 “Hey, if they're good enough for Robert Downey Jr., then they’re good enough for me. After all, I am Ir--”

 She groans, good-natured, taking another gulp of champagne. “If you quote Marvel in your speech, I’m leaving.”

 “Fine by me, Your Highness, they’ll give me the award either way.”

 “Excuse me, Mr. Valdez?” The same college girl from before sidles up to them, clipboard clutched in her hand. “They’re about to start.”

 He claps his hands, rubbing them together. “Excellent. You coming?”

 “I…” She casts her gaze to the makeshift stage they’ve constructed, eyeing the bright “Eta Industries” placard, the sharp angles shiny and alluring, the siren-song of recognition.

 This is a big deal. There are photographers in the audience. In the write-ups and reviews, she would be listed as a co-winner of the award, a co-designer of the world’s safest house, a thought so happy she practically starts flying.

 “I think I should stay out of the limelight for this one, Leo,” she says, politely. “This is your moment. I don’t want to ruin it.”

 He frowns. “You sure?”

 Were it not for the fact that people were watching, Annabeth would have leapt up onto that stage without a second thought, snatching up the trophy like she had just won the Oscar, holding it up like the goddamn Olympic torch. “What, you want a white woman stealing your glory?” she says instead, arching a brow.

 “You get a pass this one time,” he quips, holding out his hand. “Don’t make me regret it.”

 Whatever social grace she has left crumbles. She’s denied it enough--she wants to be up there. “Oh, fine. Since you insist,” she says, following clipboard-girl to the stage.

 There’s a quick burst of feedback, then an elderly gentleman at the podium begins speaking into the mic. “Excuse me--sorry about that. Yes, yes, thank you all for coming tonight to the annual Eta Industries awards presentation ceremony. It is always such a pleasure to come together with our hard-working and generous board members and shareholders to honor the best and brightest upcoming talent in engineering.”

 Internally, she rolls her eyes. Rich people.

 “It is my pleasure, however, to introduce the young man who is the recipient of this year’s Millennium Prize for innovation and safety. One of MIT’s youngest and most decorated graduates, he was a recipient of the Mead Prize for Students, the Friedman Young Engineer Award, and the Collingwood Prize, among several others. His master’s thesis, ‘Towards the Design and Implementation of Autonomous Safety Measures in Commercial Kitchens,’ formed the basis of the project which we recognize tonight, the so-called ‘SmartSafe House,’ reflects the pioneering spirit and outstanding creative vision of not only Eta Industries, but also the field of engineering as a whole. Please join me in congratulating this year’s Millennium Prize recipient, Leo Valdez.”

 From the sidelines, she claps enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd as her friend takes the stage, shakes hands with the Vice President of Eta Industries, and accepts the award, a blue, blocky triangle which almost seems to glow in the light of the ballroom. “Thank you, Mr. Helms. This is--this is a really big honor.”

 She can see him shaking a bit, taking a quick drink from his water glass. Public speaking was never really his strong suit.

 “As--as a lot of you probably know, this project is very near and dear to my heart. Growing up in Houston with my mother, a car mechanic, I was eight years old when her beloved shop went up in flames, like that.” He snaps his fingers, his other hand pressed to the podium where no one can see, joints white with pressure. Annabeth is proud of him--he hasn’t been able to speak this candidly about it in years. She knows firsthand how much his mother’s near-death haunts him still. “Thankfully, we were able to rebuild, and my mother went on to bigger and better things--including a shop with cleaner vents. But I can definitely pinpoint that moment as the day I knew I wanted to make the world a safer place, for my mom, if not for everyone else.”

 She remembers, so clearly, that snowy night in the dorms at Miss Minerva’s. The power had gone out, and Leo had made them an illicit campfire out of their trash bin and Annabeth’s failed English exam. Cold and miserable and with dying phones, they passed the time instead telling scary stories and funny memories, until the conversation had gotten suddenly, intensely real.

 “But I would be remiss,” he goes on, cheerful, “if I didn’t acknowledge my friend and collaborator, without whose work I wouldn’t be here today: Annabeth Chase,” he waves to his side, indicating her. The whole crowd, as one, turns their gazes on her. She straightens up, imperceptibly, hoping she doesn’t look too haughty or anything. “I’ve never been very good with people. My mama says I’m just like my dad that way. Give me a car, or a computer, or pages of multiplication tables, and I’m golden. But people?” He blows out a breath, and the crowd chuckles, naturally. “Now, if it had been left up to me, the SmartSafe House would have been a top of the line, cutting-edge metal box, efficient to a fault, but completely unlivable. Thank God I had Annabeth on my team to remind me what the project was really about: a home that families could feel safe in, so that what happened to me and my mom might never happen to anyone else.” He hoists his award above his head, leaning into the mic. “Ma, este es para ti. Thank you all.”

 Stepping down from the stage, they reenter the crowd, ready to receive adoration. In another life, she might have been embarrassed by such praise. Here and now, however, she takes each handshake and word of congratulations like a starving man in a desert who just came across an oasis, hungry and greedy.

 Hey, it’s her night, too.

 After what feels like a whole-ass sixty minutes of shaking old people's hands and polite nodding, though, she is in desperate need of a break. Escaping the throng of mingling bodies, she darts into a dark corner of the ballroom, leaning against the back of a rounded stone column, just barely out of sight of the party.

 Rubbing her hands over her face, she sighs, just short of a scream. Blowing out all her air, she lets the faint music and fake laughs melt into each other, becoming white noise, a blank canvas, empty of concrete thoughts and feelings.

 Then, her ear picks up a strand of conversation.

 “...announcing tomorrow that the CEO of Pallas Inc. is choosing a successor,” a woman says, the sneer in her voice almost visible. “About time.”

 “I thought she already picked a successor,” says the woman’s conversation partner, a man with the kind of cookie-cutter cadence that she heard every time she took a business major to bed. “Pallas is a family business, isn’t it?”

 “You haven’t heard?” Annabeth can almost picture it, the furtive glance around the room, the woman placing her hand on her partner’s arm, leaning in to share a juicy secret. “Supposedly she was grooming her daughter for the role, before she went in for rehab.”

 “Rehab? Really?”

 “What else could it be?” says the woman. “She’s disappeared off the face of the earth, and her mother refuses to talk about her. Let’s be honest, if she were dead, she would have raised a bigger stink about it.”

 Annabeth closes her eyes, sucking air in through her teeth. That… wasn’t totally untrue.

 But the woman doesn’t stop. “It’s always the same story,” she scoffs. “You throw countless hours of schooling and millions of dollars into girls like her, and what do they do? Turn around and blow it all on drugs and partying. Honestly, she should be grateful her mother is even bothering with her rehab at all. Hasn’t she wasted enough of the family’s money already?”

 Blood roars in her ears, drowning out the fancy party. Sharp points dig into her palm, pinpricks of pain, before she realizes that they’re her own fingernails.

 The lady has got it all wrong. Her mom couldn’t even be bothered with that.

 Luke’s scarf, the shrug, it’s choking her, suffocating and constricting. Percy’s pin feels heavy on her chest.

 Blinders on, she would have sprinted for the exit were it not for the Piper’s stupid Versace heels, reduced instead to a teetering, tottering wreck, like a baby colt running from a predator. The night is hot and humid, heavy with the threat of rain, and Annabeth can barely breathe, dark spots in her eyes, until she ducks into a nearby Target, the frigid blast of air a welcome distraction.

 Almost in a daze, she watches herself pick up a few things--clippers, an electric razor, beef jerky, a blue Gatorade she considers for a moment before putting it back, choosing a lemonade instead--practically throwing them at the poor cashier who begins checking her out, mechanically. He doesn’t spare her a single glance for her odd assortment of items. He doesn’t even look at her at all.

 The walk to her hotel room disappears in the blink of an eye. Blink--she breezes past the check-in counter, slipping into the empty elevator. Blink--she kicks off her heels in her room, nearly hitting the wall mirror, leaving a scuff mark on the white plaster. Blink--she’s down to her underwear and tights in the bathroom, shaving the right side of her curls clean off. She’d gotten them professionally done for the night, perfect spirals held together by expensive products. And now she wants them gone.

 She pauses and breathes too hard, looking at herself in the mirror. Her mother didn’t like that she was blonde. Maybe because of dumb blonde stereotypes, maybe just because it reminded Athena too much of her failed romance with Annabeth’s dad. And that thought stays her hand from getting rid of the rest of them.

 That, and maybe the idea of Percy, of some broke dancer, tangling his fingers in it as they lie together.

 Fuck her mother, and the fucking stories she tells.

 She likes it. She likes her blonde hair and her fresh undercut.

 She can get Thalia to touch this up later, maybe. Now, though, she needs this.

 It doesn’t look perfect. The left side of hair is too long, her gold laurel earrings too fancy for a homegrown haircut like this, her makeup too pristine. Shoving her hand under the running water, she rubs at her eyes, mascara and eyeliner smearing until they’ve reached something much more respectable for the failure that she really is.

 She misses her industrial. And her eyebrow rings. And the tongue piercing. But this will have to do for now.

 Breathing heavily, eyes hot, she doesn’t register her phone blinking, signaling an unread text message.

 It’s from Thalia. surprised you weren’t at kelp heads bday party, it reads. was pretty boring. Kno he missed you  

#backstory backstory backstoryyyyyyy #my fic #percabeth #pjo #the rivalry ends here #darkmagyk #perseannabeth #ballet au

[duskholland]

mile high club with tom ? & maybe you’re traveling with the boys so when u get back to your seats they’re all grossed out

18+ !!!! contains nsfw material. extended warnings beneath the cut.

warnings: unprotected plane sex. please practise safe sex!! condoms act as barriers against STIs as well as unplanned pregnancy. 

------------

You don’t know how it happens. One moment you’re sitting up in first class, making dangerous eye contact with Tom, the next he’s got you crammed into the plane's bathroom, bent over the sink, with his hot hands roaming all over your body.

“Shit, shit,” you murmur, biting back a low groan as you feel the hard line of his member tracing through your slit. Tom smirks at you, and you watch his reflection in the mirror as he drags his needy lips up and down your neck, kissing you roughly. You grind down against his cock and moan softly as you get some delicious pressure against your clit. “Tom, we don’t have much time.”

“I know.” His hand moves down and he guides the tip of his flushed cock to rest against your entrance. “Bend over a bit more for me, darling? There you are.” When you’ve arched your back about as far as possible in the tight cubicle, Tom spreads your thighs wider and enters you in a final, slick thrust. Your fingers curl around the rim of the sink as you cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as the feeling of him filling you so completely brings you bounds of pleasure.

“You can move,” you tell him breathlessly. Tom hums in response, and then he’s got one hand on the mirror and the other on your hip, and he’s holding you in place as he starts to fuck you. His pace is quick but fulfilling, and when you bend over further you cry out as you feel the head of his cock press up against your spongy inner walls. “Holy shit-”

“Quiet, darling,” he hushes, gripping your hip a little harder. “Don’t want the whole plane to know what we’re doing in here, do we?”

You whimper out a small response, your thoughts garbled. “S’rry, just feels so fucking good.”

When Tom’s hand wraps around your front and goes to play with your clit, it becomes even harder to stay under control.

“I know,” he mutters. The sound of slapping skin fills the small bathroom as he ruts into you desperately, his member stretching you out. “Bloody love feeling your pussy, love. So fucking tight for me. You’re gonna make me come.” He’s all raspy and intense, and it draws your climax nearer. When he rolls your tender bud between his fingers, you have to bring one of your hands to your face so you can bite on your fist to stop yourself from screaming out.

“Shit, T-Tom, I’m gonna come.”

“Let go, darling. Let me feel you.”

Your orgasm explodes through you, dousing you in a hot buzz of pleasure as you squirm against the sink. Tom fucks you through it, his thrusts becoming sporadic as you feel his hot seed fill you up. His hand slips from the mirror and grabs at the sink as he curses lowly, his fingers continuing to fondle your clit until you’re spent and whimpering.

“Shit,” you mutter, throwing your head back and stretching out your back when Tom slips out from you. You glance down at the mess between your legs before glaring up at your boyfriend. “Always so messy, aren’t you?”

Tom grins. He’s quick to grab a few tissues, and he passes some to you before tending to his own member and tucking it back in his jeans.

“I’ll go out first. Wait a few minutes so no one gets suspicious,” he suggests. You give him a short nod, biting your lower lip sceptically.

“Are you sure no one noticed you following me in here?”

Tom looks considerably more guilty than he had when you’d asked him the first time, right before he’d bent you over the sink.

“Harrison… might have looked a little bit suspicious,” Tom says, testing the waters. When your eyes widen, he’s quick to throw his hands up in the air and add, “I’m sure he doesn’t know, though! They’ve got brilliant soundproofing on these planes, Y/N. Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it?” You hiss, but you end the words with a short laugh, and you peck his lips softly. “Send me a message when it’s safe to come out.” Thank you, free first-class wifi...

Tom nods his head, and he fixes his hair before slipping around you and over to the door. “See you on the other side,” he replies cheekily, and then he gives you a short wave before sliding out from the cubicle.

You wait a painstaking amount of time for his text, and when you receive his messages, you groan loudly.

Tom: so they know

Tom: you should probably come out now

Tom: we’re never hearing the end of this

It’s very hard to avoid looking at Harrison, Harry, and Sam, but somehow you manage to get back into your seat without dissolving into embarrassment. You sit opposite Tom, drawing your arms over your chest as you glare at him pointedly.

Harrison’s the first to crack. “You dirty bastards,” he says. When you shift your powerful stare onto him, he raises his hands in the air. “You can’t even argue because I’m right-”

“Shut up, Haz,” you snap.

“You know, if you thought you were being inconspicuous, you really failed,” Harry chimes in, earning a glare from Tom. “Seriously, like... You guys could’ve at least tried to be discreet about it.”

“Shut up, Harry,” Tom says.

Sam just smirks, eyes dancing with amusement. “Who would’ve known you’re both so kinky-”

He gets a pillow thrown in his face, and then you reach down and pull up the divider which helpfully obscures their obnoxious, teasing faces. Your attention shifts back onto your boyfriend, who just shrugs sheepishly.

“You have to admit it was worth it, though,” Tom says, finally breaking the silence.

You sigh, but you’re forced to nod your head in agreement.

“Feels pretty good to join the mile high club, I guess,” you resolve, your lips quirking into a grin when Tom wiggles his eyebrows.

“Damn straight.”

#final one of the night ! #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #blurb night #myblurbs #tomblurbs #Anonymous #tom.filth #smut

[inforapound]

The Devil Inside  -  Part 5

Thanks for reading. I’m going with a couple of shorter chapters instead of one long finale. Hope you like it. 

Pairing - Ivar and reader       

Warnings - dark Ivar, explicit smut, bad relationship, toxic love 

By the following night without a word from Ivar, not a single call or text, and no sign of the black Camaro, you were no longer laughing. It felt like your world had collapsed to the ground. And, that alone was confusing as he was the one who had been such a prick. Right? Hadn’t he? Still, it was impossible to escape the feeling of guilt and some hard-to-define panic.

Your Ivar! Your beautiful, intense, complicated Ivar; his only fault being how much he loved you.

Was it actually over, you wondered for the zillionth time? Could the two of you work it out or would you never speak again? Would he ghost you? Ah yes, that was the fear creating the panic; you were worried he would write you off as though you had never existed. Just that idea, despite his display of rage, made your blood run cold and your heart straight-up rejected the notion that you were better off without him.

After months of the two of you cocooning away and blowing off the world, you were grateful, grateful, that your two best friends had your back. One look at your pale, despondent face the previous day, walking into class, and they flew into BBF mode.

God, they were great but you questioned their thinking. How would going out, within 24 hours of your love story ending, possibly help you?

But… there you sat in your room wearing a one-shouldered purple dress and strappy heels while Amanda carefully lined your lips and Kim flat ironed your hair. They yattered away as if to distract you, talking about what an asshole Ivar was, a complete psycho, and thank god you hadn’t slept with him. Eeeek, all that solidarity, and you had given them a watered-down version of what had happened during the fight.

Barely taking in their words, you thought over and over all that had been said in his car, questioning if it had truly been that bad. It felt awful at the time, but things seemed different after such a long time without hearing from him. Did it mean you had forgiven him? Definitely not but you still felt like a balloon bouncing in the wind without your Ivar.

Under it all, he just needed you and the thought of you with another guy was more than he could process. How can that be a bad thing? And it had been you, YOU, who desecrated his most treasured possession, his beloved mother’s necklace, a necklace he had imparted so lovingly. Wasn’t your behaviour as bad or even worse? Could he forgive you?

Tears rose in your eyes making the girls stop and stare, looking like a pair of barn owls.

“Oh babe,” Kim whispered squeezing your shoulder and Amanda leaned in, looking as if she was pitying a dog.

“Tonight is exactly what you need,” she nodded. “The dance will take your mind off of everything. Trust me.”

WELL, THAT WAS A FUCKING LIE.

The school gymnasium was dark and stuffy, the music pounding and the strobes seemed to flash all the way into your brain. It was the last place you needed to be! God! Every guy wearing a leather jacket made you do a double-take and Ivar’s absence screamed louder than the noise. Just twenty feet away your friends were dancing and yet you had never felt so alone. That must have been how Ivar felt, that day on the road, watching you run away from him. Your poor, love….. Where was he?

“Is it really you? Are you honestly here?” asked Mark Hasting as he, all-of-sudden, appeared at your side, reeking of weed and smiling one of his squinty-eyed smiles. “Mr. Lothbrok let you out of his grasp for a night. I almost don’t believe it.”

Not a word came out of your mouth and you looked from Mark back to the dance floor unable to tell him that the two of you had broken up. And….. that it was all your fault. Instead of easing Ivar’s fears, you had doused gasoline on his pain. Should you tell Mark that? What a horrible person you were? Oh god, what had you done?

Taking a deep breath, a gasp really, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Mark?” you cried out and it turned into a sob.

“Yea, heeey, what’s wrong?” he scrunched his forehead with concern and stepped closer.

“Can you give me a lift home? I can’t be here right now.”

----

Waving your thanks to Mark, you watched him reverse out of the driveway and closed the front door. Not taking the time to remove your coat or turn on the lights, you riffled through your purse looking for your phone. You had to find Ivar.

Would you call or text? Call! Yes, calling would be better and if he didn’t answer, you’d go straight over to his house. Oh god, that was a nerve-wracking thought, driving over and just walking in. What if he wasn’t alone...what if some chic was there? Your mind began to spin as your insecurities played tricks despite knowing, in your heart-of-hearts, how unlikely that was.

Bringing his number up on our phone, you headed through your dark kitchen toward your room, your ears still humming from the music at the dance. Staring at his number, you slowed to a stop and leaned against the hallway wall, sliding down to sit on the carpet. It was time.... and it felt scary as you had no idea where to start and Ivar was not a guy to make things easy. It was no stretch of the imagination to envision him picking up and not saying a word, just listening on the other end as you stuttered on. Regardless, there were things that needed to be said and for your part in the horrible mess, you wouldn’t keep score. Honestly, how could any girl keep score who dated Ivar Lothbrok?

Deep breath in, you steadied your nerves and hit dial, your ear pressed to the phone as it began to ring. Waiting, listening, holding your breath, you didn’t at first hear the faint buzzing sound. It was when you lowered the phone that it captured your attention. Ending the call, you sat straining to identify it but all was quiet in the house; the sound was gone. Tapping his number again, you redialed, keeping the phone in your lap, your eyes fixed on the screen. The ringing began again along with that same buzzing.

Holy shit! Ivar was there! Somewhere in the house with his phone!

Ending the call, you weren’t sure what to do but panic hit your chest, and as if on autopilot, you silently pushed yourself up to stand. You didn’t call out his name, instead, walked, tiptoed, to your bedroom door hesitating when your hand touched the handle. Why weren’t you calling out to him? Why was your door closed?

A thousand thoughts and feelings swirled in your head but none you could name. Snap out of it, you blasted yourself! It’s Ivar, your boyfriend, your true love; the guy you had been pining for all day. Not some intruder on the other side of the door ready to do horrible things. Right? Of course not…. Of course not….you repeated to yourself.

Carefully you turned the knob and slowly pushed open the door. Your room was dark and at the end of your bed sat a hooded figure... waiting. The light was too dim to see his face and his hood concealed his outline. It was the tension in the air and the way his head suddenly tilted to one side, looking in your direction, that confirmed it was him.

“Oh my god!” you finally cried, and swiped the wall, hitting the light-switch on; both of you instantly recoiling and squinting from the brightness. “Ivar! You terrified me!”

Making no move to stand, he kept looking at you, his eyes skipping over your face and down your body, clearly analyzing the details of your appearance. It was his forced, joyless laugh that made every muscle in your body tense. Steadying himself, he fell silent before sighing in a way that gave no indication of his state of mind. Lifting his hand, he flicked his fingers, beckoning you closer, his wicked blue eyes conveying that all was not well.

Placing your phone on your dresser, you removed your coat, throwing it to the floor, and stepped out of your shoes. Walking toward him, you lowered to the carpet and stood on your knees, pushing in between his legs. He never took his eyes off yours and your mouth went dry from the intensity.

So fast it made you flinch, he brought his hands up and cupped your cheeks. Normally it would have melted your heart but his steeliness strummed all your nerves.

“Ivar?” you peered up into his bottomless eyes, his brows furrowed. “Babe, I was just calling you. All-day, I.…”

“Where are your parents?” he cut you off. “They’ve been gone all day.”

“Oh...” you hesitated, ignoring how he knew that, “They’re away. My mom is gone until Tuesday, my dad was supposed to be back tonight but his flight got messed up. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

It was hard to know what answer he was looking for, but that didn’t seem it as his face remained unchanged.

“They leave you alone over-night? A teenage girl with a bedroom on the ground floor and her fucking window unlocked. Any creep could get in.”

The irony was lost on him and pointing it out was not the thing to do. Instead, you waited for him to finish, knowing he didn’t actually want you to answer.

Not taking his eyes off you, he seemed to grimace as he, again, scanned your cheeks, and eyes and mouth, his eyelids narrowing further.

“And who are you so dressed up for, hmm? Mark?”

“No!” you rushed. “He just gave me a ride home from the dance. I asked him to. I was crying.”

That admission made his face flicker but only slightly.

“I was upset about our fight and missing you,” you explained.

Using your courage, you raised your hands and finally touched him, resting them on his thighs.

Instantly, he turned and you thought for a moment he was moving away but instead, he leaned back and grabbed the box of tissues from the nightstand.

“It's okay, I’m not upset anymore. Thank you,” your eyes flitted down to the yellow box he held up for you.

“No,” his face tightened, “Wipe your face. Take that stuff off.”

“Wha?”

“That lipstick,” he quipped, lifting his eyebrows and glancing at the box, urging you on. “And that crap on your cheeks.”

Slowly, you grabbed a tissue, pulling it from the box, another withdrawing behind. As you wiped the pink gloss from your mouth, and blush from your skin, he reached up and pushed his hood back, exposing the extent of his exhaustion; his pale face and dark ringed eyes and messy hair that for the first time had no product in it. Seeing his weariness, you wondered what kind of sleepless and heart-broken roller-coaster he, himself, had been on since your fight.

Grabbing the dirty Kleenex from you, he tossed it onto the floor and took your chin in his hand making you wish he would just break the tension and kiss you.

“You know I don’t like you wearing make-up.”

“I know, it's just...”

“It’s just what?”

“I don’t know,” you tried to look down, but he held your face in place, forcing you to look at him. You felt as if you were being scolded

“You don’t need that shit. You are so beautiful.” Shaking his head, his eyes lowered for a second and he sighed your name, his body and defenses softening and you jumped at the opening.

“Ivar,” you whispered, rubbing your hands over his jeans. “Babe,” you cooed softly making him close his eyes, frowning as if your affection pained him.

“What the fuck am I going to do with you?” he said quietly, opening his eyes and glaring. “What am I going to do?”

“Kiss me,” you replied despite his harsh look, thinking of the first day he picked you up at lunch. “Kiss me, and everything else will come,” you whispered and his face began to blur as tears rose in your eyes.

And like that, his mouth was on you, his hands holding your face, his breath revealing his relief and his whimper giving away his desperation. Your sweetheart was aching for you, all this time, but he had no idea what to do. His tongue pushed inside your mouth, his lips demanding more and you lifted your hands and gripped his hoodie, bracing yourself from the force of his emotions. Your beautiful Ivar had been adrift without you. Utterly lost!

Pulling back, he stared at you, his face filled with agony. “I love you so much,” he whispered, his own eyes filling with tears.

“I love you too,” you murmured back.

“Never. Reject. Me. Again,” he articulated as his nostrils flared, his threat easy to hear but you could see past it. “From this moment on, this second on, we belong to each other. Even more than we did before. Do you hear me? You. Are. Mine.”

“I was always yours, Ivar,” you sounded like you were pleading for him to believe you. “And I always, always, will be. I need you,” you whispered.

“I need you,” he repeated back as if swearing a vow. “Now,” he let go of your face and straightened. “Show me,” he jerked his chin and the slightest wave of arrogance came over him. “Show me,” he said again, raising his dark eyebrows expectantly. “With your mouth.”

What?

Was this a test, you wondered, wishing he’d continue touching you with the same love and need you felt just an instant ago. But of course his defenses were still up; he was searching for reassurance. The same reassurance you didn’t give the day before making the situation explode. Your poor Ivar, you would not let him down twice.

Nodding, you looked down at his lap, running your hands over the bulge in his jeans. If this was what he needed to feel your devotion, you would indulge him. In a flash, your quick hands had his jeans open, his beautiful cock upright in your grasp. It always amazed you how smooth his skin looked, his head a shade darker than the rest but all flawless with the slightest sheen.

Leaning down, you took him into your mouth, loving how it felt and his hand grabbed the back of your neck, not pushing but letting you know that he could. God, he tasted amazing; salty and clean and you tightened your fingers around his base and started to move.

Oh how you loved the way he hissed when you bobbed your mouth up and down, his hips jerking and his grip on your neck getting tight. Each time you took him into the back of your throat, it triggered that reflex and like some submissive craving pain, you were instantly turned on. What was wrong with you that the idea of suffocating on him made you wet? Picking up your pace made him moan and you began to slam down a little harder and a touch further each time, making yourself gag.

“Fuck!” he snarled in response clearly loving the sounds of it. “You want to choke on my dick, baby? Hmm?” he grunted out into the room. “Aw fuck I missed you. Last night and all fucking day, I missed you....so much.”

On you moved, and sucked and slurped, your lips sliding down his shaft, your throat getting used to the roughness.

“I’m so lucky to be with you. Fuck!” he growled, rolling his hips up toward your mouth. “I don’t give a shit about that other guy anymore. None of that matters. I just want to be with you. I love you.”

That was the closest you knew he‘d ever come to apologizing.

“Yea, baby, suck it,” he groaned again, “Suck my cock. You’re so beautiful. But don’t get greedy, I have plans for you tonight.”

Reaching down he yanked up the skirt of your purple dress, shimmying it higher until it was above your waist and you were kneeling in your thong. He obviously liked it as he growled and slapped your ass hard before pulling you off of him, his eyes staring at your mouth which must have looked red and puffy and totally wrecked.

“Get on the bed and open your legs.”

“Pardon?” your eyes flashed wide.

“I’m going to make you mine.”

@blonddnamedhandz  @whenimaunicorn​  @sweeneythots @funmadnessandbadassvikings @redama @mdredwine @didiintheblog    @fields-and-fields-of-poppies  @oddsnendsfanfics @youbelongeverywhere  @hecohansen31 @naaladareia @youbloodymadgenius  @geekandbooknerd  @ivarsgoddess  @where-beauty-goes-to-die @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @snatcherheart  @lordsexmachine @fuchsiagrasshopper @wilhelmyna​ @heavenly1927 @cececolbert @peachyboneless @xbellaxcarolinax​​

#ivar #ivar the boneless #modern ivar #vikings ivar #Ivar Lothbrok #ivar fanfic #ivar and reader #ivar smut #ivar romance #ivar loth #ivar in highschool #vikings fanfiction #ivar love story #ivar and sarah

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #135: Martha (Ruler)

Summer goes by so fast, doesn’t it? Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making the last of the summer 1 servants, Martha! By the end of this build you too can punch a dragon so hard people on the other side get hurt.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Mana prism power make up!

Race and Background

Martha’s still a Human, but since this is a variant of her normal build this is also a Variant Human. That gives her +1 Wisdom, +1 Constitution, proficiency in Animal Handling if the Tarrasque gets too uppity, and the Crusher feat. That nets you +1 Strength, and once per turn you can move a large or smaller creature when you hit it with a bludgeoning attack. Also, dealing critical damage with a bludgeoning attack gives advantage to all attack rolls against that creature for a round. We haven’t even hit level one yet and you’re already breaking bones.

Like last time, you’re still an Acolyte, giving you Insight and Religion proficiency. I don’t think I have to explain why those skills are good for Saint Martha.

Ability Scores

Despite everything you’re still a woman of the cloth, so your Wisdom should be as high as possible. Like I said in the opening your punches pack a punch, so Strength is second. Third is Constitution. Your Natural Body means you can shrug off poisons pretty easily. After that is Dexterity, because if you’re going to fight in a bikini you’d better be fast. Your Charisma isn’t great, mostly because we couldn’t make everything an 18, but we’re dumping Intelligence. It’s not like the other summer servants will notice.

Class Levels

1. If you want to punch through a dragon, monk levels are a must. First level monks get Martial Arts, letting you make an unarmed attack as a bonus action after you attack with your main action. There’s monk weapons too, but we’re just here for unarmed attacks. You can also use your dexterity instead of strength for attacks, but we’re not gonna do that. You can also use your martial arts die when you make unarmed damage rolls, and it grows as you level up. You also get Unarmored Defenses, giving you an AC of 10+ your wisdom mod + your dexterity mod to help with the whole “bikini armor” thing.

Finally, you get proficiency in Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as two monk skills. Athletics for a beach body, and History because you’re a servant, so duh.

2. Second level monks get Ki points, a number per short rest equal to your level, that you can spend to dash, disengage, dodge, or attack twice as a bonus action. You also get Unarmored Movement, increasing your walking speed as long as you’re only wearing a swimsuit. If the other players ask, it’s absolutely necessary.

3. Third level monks seek out a monastic tradition, and we’re going for a real throwback this time- the Way of Tranquility will give us all the holy power we need, and eventually, fists strong enough to tame a dragon. When you set down the Path of Tranquility you can cast Sanctuary on yourself for free once per minute. Any creature that tries to attack you must first make a wisdom save (dc 8+your wisdom modifier + proficiency) or redirect the attack. The effect still ends if you make an attack, but creatures that break through the effect are immune for an hour. 

You also get Healing Hands, giving you the same effects as a paladin’s Lay on Hands, but you get 10 times your level in healable HP each long rest. You can also replace a flurry of blows attack with this feature when you use it. Slap your party back to life!

You can also Deflect Missiles, reacting to incoming arrows and the like to reduce the damage you take. If you reduce it to zero, you can also spend a ki point to throw it back as a part of the same reaction!

4. Fourth level monks can Slow Fall, spending a reaction to reduce damage taken from falling. You also get your first Ability Score Improvement, bumping up your Wisdom for a higher AC and stronger Sanctuary.

5. Fifth level monks get an Extra Attack each attack action, and can turn their attacks into Stunning Strikes by spending ki, forcing the creature they hit to make a constitution save or be stunned for a round.

6.  Sixth level monks have magical hands thanks to their Ki-empowered Strikes, letting them get around resistances. Tranquility monks also become an Emissary of Peace, giving you advantage on charisma checks to calm down people, as long as they aren’t deception or intimidation checks. You also get proficiency in the persuasion skill.

7.  Your Evasion supercharges your dexterity saves, meaning you take half damage on failures and no damage on successes. If you’re going to tame a dragon you’d better get good at dealing with fire breath. Your Stillness of Mind also lets you end charms or frightening effects on yourself as an action. Honestly, you’re kind of the one who does the frightening around here.

8. Use this ASI to bump up your Strength for stronger and more accurate attacks. Now we’re talking.

9. Your Unarmored Movement Improvement lets you run on water and up walls, as long as your turn ends on solid ground. Perfect for those long walks on the beach.

10. Your Purity of Body makes you immune to disease and poison. Ki manipulation is really similar to being a cleric, now that we’re looking at it. Ah well, just makes it that much easier to reflavor it.

11. Eleventh level tranquility monks can Douse the Flames of War, using your action to force a wisdom save on a creature you touch. It automatically doesn’t work if the creature’s missing any HP, but if it does work it can’t deal damage or force saves for a minute, or until it’s attacked, takes damage, makes a saving throw, or sees its allies do any of the above.

12. Use this ASI to grab the Tough feat for a free 24 HP, plus two extra every time you level up. If you’re going to brawl, you’d better be ready to take some hits. For the lord, of course.

13. The Tongue of the Sun and Moon means that you now effectively speak and understand every spoken language. I mean, yeah, I guess that is technically a power Jesus gave to people, so it kinda fits. It also means you don’t have to wait for the translations Type Moon is never going to do on most of their work, so I envy you.

14. Your Diamond Soul gives you proficiency in all saving throws, and you can spend a ki point to re-roll a failed save. Pretty easy to reflavor that as god’s favor tbh.

15. Your Timeless Body now suffers no negative effects of old age (not that there’s any to begin with RAW) and you can’t be aged magically. Honestly that’s a really good thing considering we’re still sticking to the bikini.

Also you no longer need food or water, save it for your guests.

16. Use this ASI for more Strength, so you can punch even harder and nothing else. Stronks are always valid. You also get one point of Dexterity for... later.

17. If you’ve read this far, you’re probably thinking, “Fateandphantasms you dolt! You forgot to make this build super good at punching!” Hahaha, wrong. The final ability tranquility monks get is the Anger of a Gentle Soul. If you see a creature take someone else down to 0 HP, you can use your reaction to gain a damage bonus against them until the end of your next turn. That damage bonus is equal to your monk level. You can use this once per short rest.

18. Now that you can finally punch a hole through a Tarrasque, it’s time to diversify. As a Fighter, you get a Fighting Style: The Mariner fighting style gives you +1 to your AC, and you get a climbing and swimming speed, the perfect fit for a deserted island.

You also get a Second Wind, healing yourself as a bonus action, but honestly your healing hands are probably better.

19. Second level fighters get most of the reason we came here, Action Surge! Tack an extra action onto your turn for extra punching!

20. If you really want to powergame I’d suggest taking echo knight here for the extra attacks, but we’re sticking to character here, so go the way of the Champion for Improved Criticals. Now you deal critical hits on 19s and 20s!

Pros:

There’s a reason this UA isn’t really used any more. Adding a +17 modifier to your attack damage for a round means you can do ridiculous amounts of damage in a very short time. Toss in that action surge and a flurry of blows and you’re dealing 6d10+126 damage. That can ko a couple of builds on this account before we even start rolling!

Having proficiency on every save, nearly permanent Indomitable, and near permanent Sanctuary means you can just kind of ignore enemies if you don’t feel like fighting them. That doesn’t even get into the fact that you can shut them down on a save too.

You have more healing than a paladin, and you can move 110 feet in a round to administer that healing. If someone goes down, you can probably be there to help them back up. Or just kill whoever did it, either or.

Cons:

As a stronk, your AC isn’t amazing. It’s not even that bad, but when you’re a frontline fighter who can explode without warning you’re doing to bring a lot of attention on yourself, and that bikini isn’t going to help you here.

Playing to character means you’re only using your fists, which have a range of five feet. Flyers are going to be an issue, as are any monks who stuck it out until at least level 18.

A lot of this build is dependent on really old UA, so odds are most DMs aren’t going to let it slide for your average game. Ah well, Summer’s almost over anyway.

#Fate Grand Order #FGO #Martha #D&D 5e #Fate and Phantasms #Monk #Fighter

[perriwinklesblog]

Okay, so it won’t happen this way but I would love for Sam not to be infected by the egg, at least not fully. 

Instead I’d like to see him struggle (I mean I don’t but for the purpose of the storyline), I’d like to see him fighting against the eggs voice in his head. 

What if it’s like a chorus of voices, loads of voices in his head trying to pull him to the egg but because he’s been so against it he has moments of clarity which stop him from fully embracing it.

Sam hasn’t been able to sleep since he spent the night in the egg. He’s tried to keep himself busy, entertained but leaving his house takes more and more effort. The seed in his house has grown. Fran doesn’t like it. Part of him doesn’t like it but there’s also a voice telling him to love it.

There’s many voices in his head. Some sound familiar and some don’t. Sometimes he feels a comfort in letting the sounds swirl around him as he sits in darkness next to Fran. Other times he’s ripping his hair out screaming at it to stop.

He feels like he’s going insane.

Fran doesn’t like the eggs gift. She refuses to walk near it, instead growls and takes the long way round. It’s grown. It’ll mess up his inventions soon. He’s not sure he cares.

Sam has moments of clarity where he remembers everything the egg has done, where he knows how vile it is and what it made him do. But then the voice grow loud and those thoughts are drowned out. Part of him thanks them.

Captain Puffy had been worried about Sam since that day she rescued him. He wouldn’t let her inside his base anymore. Instead meeting her out the front, Fran closely following him. He’d have a grin on his face but it never reached his eyes. They were sunken and bloodshot, half the time they looked empty. Most of the time they were screaming in pain.

She’d been laying low since her confrontation with Bad and Ant. Both of them had been determined to kill her. Clearly she wasn’t even worth trying to convert. The egg must have declared her an enemy. She scoffs, yeah be afraid. She made a temporary camp near Sams base, half because it was so far away from people and half because she was worried.

Her worries prove right when one day she’s strolling near his base and all she hears are his screams. Hurriedly, she crafts a hoe so she can enter. Upon entering shes horrified by the red vines stretching across the place. She sees Sam crumpled on the floor, clutching his head eyes screwed up. Fran is biting at the vines. She sees Sam try and push her away but Fran won’t let up.

Puffy: SAM!?

Sam: Stooop. Fran. Stop. Stop hurting it. Please.

Puffy pulls the dog away. Sam rocks tears in his eye, shaking his head, his breathing shallow. Fran whimpers near him, too scared to get close.

Puffy: Sam? Sam, can you hear me? Hey, it’s okay. Sam.

She reaches out to touch him but he flinched away. Puffy searches around them, trying to find something to break through to Sam, to calm him down. She sees the potions stands and grabs a bottle of water.

Puffy: Much better if this was prime water but it’ll have to do.

She pours it over Sam shocking him. He stops and blinks, looking around him. After a few moments of silence he frowns. Puffy slowly watches as he stands, turning away from her and to Fran. He takes out his sword. In one swift movement Puffy blocks his sword with hers, standing between Fran and Sam.

Puffy: What are you doing Sam?

Sam: She was hurting the egg.

Puffy: Sam. That is Fran. Your Fran. You wouldn’t kill her would you? She was trying to protect you, protect you from the egg.

Sam: The egg isn’t bad, Puffy.

Puffy: You’re about to kill Fran, Sam!? You’d never harm Fran.

She can see Sam frown, his eyes start to screw up as if he’s fighting in his head.

Puffy: Think about everything the egg has done. Ruin your inventions, take away our friends. Try and kill Tommy, a child! It made you eat yourself, take away all your things! And now it’s trying to get you to kill Fran. Fran, Sam, Fran. Please. Look at her. Really look at her. It’s Fran. She’s your friend.

With every word Puffy can see the haze chip away at Sam. His hand falls, dropping his sword and he looks at his dog. Love fills his eyes and he falls to the ground, embracing Fran, burying his head into her fur.

Sam: Oh my god. What was I going to do? Fran? I’m so sorry. You’re the best girl. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.

He looks up at Puffy, pleading with her.

Sam: Puffy. Help me.

And Puffy kneels next to him, embracing both the dog and Sam in her arms.

They stay like this for a bit before Sam composes himself. Puffy then sits and listens to everything that Sam has been feeling and thinking since the night with the egg.

Sam: It’s like sometimes the eggs voices drown out my voice of reason. Especially when I’m tired. And I’ve been so tired Puffy.

Puffy: I wish you’d told me. I could have helped you drown out the egg. I know now though, that’s all that matters. We will get through this.

Sam: I don’t know how. This egg... it’s so powerful Puffy. It has so many supporters now, including myself if I’m not thinking clearly.

Puffy: One step at a time Sam.

She dusts herself off before pulling Sam to his feet, Fran sticking closely to Sam’s feet.

Puffy: First things first, we rid this place and anywhere near here of Bloodvines.

Sam: No. it’s fine. We don’t need-

Puffy: Sam. The more of this stuff in here, the more control it has over you.

Sam frowns before dropping all of his stuff, including some obsidian blocks.

Sam: I think... I think when you start attacking it, it’s going to pull me to fight you. You’ll need to block me in some obsidian with none of my stuff so I don’t try to stop you.

Puffy: Won’t that... won’t that remind you of that night?

Sam: Yes. So you better move quickly. Blue fire destroys it for good.

Puffy nods and once Sam was trapped mined faster than she ever has before. It had spread through so much of the base that it took her longer than she’d wanted. The whole time she could hear Fran whining where Sam was, his cries and fists slamming against the rock echoing across the place. Once she was done she readied herself for helping Sam.

He looked awful but stood taller than he had been before.

Sam: It’s quieter.

Puffy: I bet. I think you should try and get some sleep. I’m going to get something that will hopefully help you even more.

Sam think is for a moment before nodding and crawling to his hole with Fran. Puffy goes to say something but decides that it’ll be a conversation for another day.

Puffy douses herself in invisibility potions so she can move about unnoticed. She makes her way towards the Church of Prime. It is pretty much the only area untouched by the vines. She fills several buckets of the water from inside the church. On her way out she freezes as she feels a pair of eyes on her. Slowly she turns to see Bad and Ant just staring in her direction. For a moment she thinks she’s been caught but she still had time on the potion, so they couldn’t be looking at her,right? No. They were looking at the church. Puffy frowns before sneaking her way back to the portal, making her way back to Sam.

At Sam’s base she uses some of the buckets to create a waterfall outside the front of his base, cleansing anyone entering or leaving. Inside the base, she creates a pool for extra measure.

When Sam wakes, he is resistant but Puffy finally convinced him to swim in the new pool. At first it’s a horrible feeling and the voices roar but soon they become whispers in the back of his kind, something easy to force down. He feels more like himself than he has in days.

Sam: The voices are still there but it’s quieter.

Puffy: That’s good. I’ve cleaned the place. I think this is almost as safe as the holy grounds.

Sam: okay.

Puffy: one day at a time, one second at a time. We will get through this. We will destroy the egg.

Sam just nods.

Puffy: I think I might bring Tommy here, Foolish and the rest of Snowchester too. So fair they’re untouched. I think this place might be the safest option for them. Is that okay with you?

Sam: Yeah. That’s fine.

Puffy: You still seem tired. Why don’t you chill with Fran for a bit? I’ll get us some food.

Puffy leaves Sam as he crawls back into his hole with Fran. He doesn’t seem as tortured as he was before. The mental scars are still there though. That’ll take time. But they’ll get there. One day at a time, one second at a time.

#dream smp #awesamdude #captain puffy #bloodvines arc #eggpire

[rocorambles]

Ok but step sister yachi fingering u while u sleep-

Okay, I doused myself with an ocean full of holy water, so let’s do this

Warnings: Yandere, Pseudo-incest, NSFW, Non-con, Drugging, Somnophilia

Rent in Tokyo is expensive and while Yachi could technically afford a place by herself with her new job at an ad design company, when her step-sister offered to split rent with her on a two-bedroom apartment, she ate up the opportunity to save some money to invest in a nicer place later on. It had been odd at first, getting used to living with a new person, especially someone she barely knew, but that was technically her relative by law. You aren’t far apart in age. You’re slightly younger than Yachi, but both of you had graduated from college and were now working in the city. Your parents had met while the two of you were at college and had married during Yachi’s senior year, so you’d seen each other here and there during school breaks and holidays, but other than a few polite exchanges, neither of you had tried getting any closer, too preoccupied with your own adult lives and university. 

It’s still hard to find a lot of time to bond with both of you working full-time and pulling crazy hours, but in the early hours of the day while the two of you share the bathroom and bustle about throwing together a quick breakfast in the kitchen and late at night, when you’re both drinking a glass of wine and getting ready for bed, the two of you talk and get to know each other. Yachi likes you. She’s always been an only child, so it’s nice to have a woman around her age that she can speak candidly to, that she can consider family. But that all changes one weekend. 

Yachi was supposed to be away for the entire weekend and, you aren’t an exhibitionist by any means, but clothes are such a pain when you’re just lounging around at home. You hum to yourself as you dry yourself off after a shower, leaving the towel in the bathroom as you casually walk as naked as the day you were born through your apartment and to your bedroom...or at least that was the plan, but you freeze as soon as you exit the steamy room when you see Yachi standing and staring at you in the hallway. There’s a pause as both your brains try to compute what is happening, but finally you run back into the bathroom with a shriek and slam the door shut behind you. 

Mortified you tightly wrap a towel around you before shyly walking to your bedroom, quietly apologizing to Yachi who just waves it off with a flush still present on her cheeks. But unlike you, Yachi is anything but mortified. She gulps down a cup of cold water as she replays the image in her mind over and over again and she imagines what it would be like for the drops of water dripping down your skin to be replaced with her mouth, her fingers. 

The dynamic between the two of you changes after that. You feel almost closer to each other and you chalk it up to the fact that embarrassing moments tend to bring people together, unaware of Yachi’s ulterior motives. Yachi had always seemed relatively conservative to you, so you’re surprised by the amount of physical affection she showers on you after the incident, kissing you on the cheek when she leaves for work, sitting in your lap while the two of you watch a movie, and casually holding hands with you as the two of you walk around the city, but you don’t mind it. It’s kind of nice actually. Your family has never been very physical, so you enjoy the seemingly platonic touches. It’s a little weird when Yachi insists on taking you shopping for clothes and lingerie, forcing you to try on things that are much more revealing and sexy than anything you own, but you beam when she gushes about how gorgeous you look and buys you everything. It’s nice to be praised and spoiled, so you don’t make a fuss about it. 

You’re not sure when Yachi sleeping in your bed every night begins. The two of you are extremely close now and many nights find the two of you laying side by side on each other’s beds as you talk and talk until one or both of you fall asleep, and too lazy and nice to wake the other up and make them move back to their own room, you both just fall asleep together. And you feel so much more tired these days. You joke to Yachi that maybe you’re just getting too old, unable to handle even the single glass of wine she religiously pours for you every night, but she just laughs off your concern as she keeps on refilling your glass. 

It’s just another night and Yachi gets up to pour both of you a glass of wine per usual, but in the kitchen, away from your view, she slips a pill into your glass and watches it dissolve in the liquid before cheerily coming out and handing you your glass. She waits and waits until she sees your eyes begin to flutter shut, until you let out a huge yawn, until you almost fall off your chair, before letting fake concern spread on her face as she ushers you to bed. And in your dazed state, you don’t notice or comment on the way her hand slips under your shirt as she holds your waist or the way she grabs one of your butt cheeks and brushes her thumb over your nipples as she undresses you. You don’t comment on the fact that she only covers you in a pair of your racier crotchless panties, really just a glorified flimsy mix of strings and lace that do nothing to hide your pussy. All you can think about is passing out and going to sleep as soon as you your head hits the pillow and Yachi watches on with amusement as you do just that. 

She waits a few more minutes, waiting until your breathing completely evens out, waiting until your chest rises and falls in a rhythmic pattern before she slides next to you. After nights of using your body as she pleases, she knows you inside and out, probably better than even you know yourself, but she never gets tired of how even in your drug induced state and even with your consciousness dead to the world, your body is so honest, so lewd. She circles your clit slowly while alternating between sucking both of your nipples gently, eyes hungrily watching how your nipples harden almost immediately under her touch. She wonders if one day she can train you to climax just from nipple stimulation alone, but that would have to wait for another night.

She takes a peek between your legs and bites her lip at the slick already seeping from your pussy, Gingerly, she inserts one finger and almost groans at how easily it slides in from how wet you are and quickly adds another finger. She takes her time, slowly dragging her fingers in and out of you, always sure to brush against the spongy spot inside of you, enjoying the way your walls tightly clench around her digits despite how many times she’s both finger fucked you and stuffed you full of toys. It feels like ages, but she finally has four fingers crammed inside of you and it’s a tight fit, but she can feel how close you are as your thighs instinctively tighten around her arm and your little cunny walls squeeze around her fingers. All it takes is a few firm, but heavy circles on your engorged clit to have you fall over the peak and she continues her ministrations, continues thrusting her hand in and out of you as your walls spasm around it as if they’re trying to keep her inside forever. And only when your body goes limp with just a twitch here and there does she stop her movements. 

She waits for you to go completely still before she begins all over again. And when time finally catches up to her and she can’t fight back her own yawns as it gets into the early hours of the morning, she reluctantly pulls out her fingers, smirking at how your arousal literally coats her skin before carefully licking every drop of you off her digits one by one and wiping you down with a wet cloth to hide any evidence of foul play.  

#yandere haikyuu #haikyuu yandere #yandere yachi #yachi x reader

[khunfounded]

“They won’t take you away from me ever again.” For khunbam? 👀

[I kinda went off on this one, it turned out a lot longer than originally intended. I hope you like it! :D]

The Hell Train had long since settled into an uneasy quiet for the night, and Khun Aguero Agnes laid awake in his bed, staring absently at the ceiling. Bam still wasn’t back from the Rice Pot, and each hour that passed saw him growing more and more concerned. 

He was barely stopping himself from marching over there and giving that so-called “God” a piece of his mind when the door opened with a loud creak. Khun jolted upright, wincing against the sudden bright light of the corridor. All he could see was Bam’s silhouette, leaning heavily against the doorframe.

“Bam, you’re back!” Khun said, moving to sit on the edge of his bed, before the lights flickered on.

Bam looked like death, sallow skin and heavy bags beneath his eyes. His shirt was hanging in pieces and seeped with blood, the deep crimson color slowly blooming across the fabric. His knuckles were scraped raw, blood was dripping beneath his nose. There was a streak of red across the lightswitch.

“Holy shit, Bam!” Khun exclaimed, jumping up from his bed and racing towards his friend. 

Bam raised his hands in front of him placatingly, “It’s okay, I’m fine, Khun”.

“Like hell you are,” he growled as he got into his friend’s personal space. He was worried, frightened if he was willing to admit it. Bam had come back hurt before, but never this badly. 

Khun grabbed Bam’s chin and used it to move his head back and forth as he checked him for injuries. It was covered in small scrapes, and his left cheek looked like it was starting to bruise. He moved aside the remains of Bam’s shirt, and sighed in relief when he saw that the cut was relatively shallow.

Then, he took one of Bam’s hands, careful to avoid his knuckles, and dragged him towards his bed. Khun pushed him to sit down, and Bam went surprisingly easily, even as he protested.

“I promise I’m okay! It’s worse than it looks,” Bam said, as Khun rummaged in his lighthouse for the large med kit he kept exactly for reasons like this.

Khun scoffed as he pulled it out, “You look like the Rice Pot chewed you up and spit you out, I don’t give a fuck if it’s ‘worse than it looks’. How did you get like this?”

Bam was silent for a long moment, and Khun got in between his legs, tearing the remaining pieces of his shirt off. He took a strip of it and doused it with water from a small water bottle, using it to wipe away the copious amounts of blood on his friend’s torso.

Bam lowered his head, looking ashamed, and mumbled, “I was training with God and I asked him to go harder on me”.

“And why would you do that?” Khun asked as he tossed the shirt to the floor.

“I just- I need to get stronger, Khun. You have to understand that”.

Khun took Bam’s chin again, and used it to force his friend’s head up. Bam stared into his eyes, a determined look on his face. He was serious. That was his answer. Khun wanted to punch his fist through a wall, but decided to keep his hand unbroken.

“No,” he shook his head, “No, Bam. I don’t understand that. You can’t get stronger if you’re fucking dead, which is apparently what you’re trying to become”.

Something in Bam’s eyes shifted, and he snapped, “You’re one to talk. You come back from training with Evan covered with bruises and cuts”.

Khun crossed his arms, “This isn’t about me right now”.

“It never is, is it?” Bam let out a harsh laugh, one that made Khun’s chest ache, “It’s always about me. Bam, you’re injured. Bam, you need to eat. Bam, you can’t keep going like this. But you’re exactly the same way!”

Khun took a staggering step backwards, stunned by Bam’s vehemence. He had no idea Bam could be like this. So angry, so vicious. Teeth bared like a cornered animal. But he wouldn’t back down, Bam needed to get it through his head that what he was doing was dangerous.

“No I’m not. I’m nothing like you,” he crossed his arms, setting his jaw, “I actually need all the training, but you’re just torturing yourself for no reason”.

Bam stood up, getting into Khun’s face until they were almost nose to nose, “No, why can’t you understand? I need to do this!”

“Why?!” Khun asked desperately. He didn’t understand what the fuck was going on, why Bam was acting like this, but it made his heart crack.

“So they won’t take you away from me ever again!” Bam shouted, bumping his forehead against his and forcing Khun to go cross eyed. His eyes were like molten gold, burning Khun from the inside out.

“What do you mean?” Khun begged, voice a whisper. He didn’t understand what was going on, why that was Bam’s reason. He looked so angry, so broken. Khun didn’t know what to do.

“I love you!” Bam’s voice cracked, tears filling his eyes and turning them to sunshower, “I can’t stand losing you a second time!”

He broke down sobbing, clutching at Khun’s shirt and burying his face in his chest. Khun’s arms instinctively wrapped around him, and he felt Bam tremble against him.

“I can’t lose you again, Khun. Please don’t make me”.

“You won’t,” Khun said automatically, brain still stuck on Bam’s confession.

He had no idea. No idea that Bam loved him. Sometimes he wondered if Bam even liked him, so this was completely out of the realm of his imagination, something he wouldn’t even allow in his wildest dreams.

“I will,” Bam said, shaking, “I will. I will”.

Khun shook himself out of his stupor and held Bam tightly, swaying them from side to side. He clutched the back of Bam’s head and settled his chin on top of it. There were more important things to worry about. He couldn’t stand Bam hurting like this, so he pushed his feelings aside.

“Maybe,” Khun whispered, “Maybe. But isn’t it better to be together now than to lose each other before we even get the chance to leave?”

“I-” Bam choked, “I don’t want you to leave at all”.

“That’s not something we get to decide, no matter how strong we are”.

Maybe this wasn’t the best way to go about the situation, but it was true, and Khun never was good at lying to Bam.

“But doesn’t love mean staying together?” Bam asked, voice frighteningly small.

“I don’t know,” Khun gave a bittersweet chuckle, “I’ve never loved anything that didn’t disappear”.

“What about me?” Bam begged.

Khun thought back to those torturous seven years. How cold and alone and lonely he was, taking the girl who killed his best friend up the Tower. He remembered endless sleepless nights, nightmares that were nowhere near as bad as his reality.

“Even you,” Khun said quietly, almost afraid to let the words into the air, “You were gone for seven years, Bam. It killed me”.

“I won’t do it again,” Bam hiccuped, “I promise. I promise”.

“You can’t promise that. You know you can’t, Bam” Khun said, just holding him as close as he could.

“I know. I know and I hate it,” Bam whimpered, “That’s why I need to get stronger. Maybe if I become the god people want me to be, I’ll be able to keep you”.

Khun was blinking back tears. No one had ever wanted to keep him before. Even Maria was gone, leaving him bleeding out in the dirt. He buried his face in Bam’s hair and sighed.

“Even gods lose things eventually. No one is invulnerable”.

“But I need to be,” Bam said emphatically.

“You can’t be, Bam. And that’s okay,” Khun rubbed a hand up and down Bam’s back in a soothing motion he had never gotten the chance to feel. Bam shuddered, and Khun felt tear stains seep through his shirt.

“No, it’s not. I love you, Khun. I need you”.

“I need you too, Bam,” Khun whispered, “So much. But time is cruel”.

He knew that from experience. Time stopped for no one, fate gave no favors. It was all just absurd happenstance and broken promises.

“Tell me you love me, Khun,” Bam tilted his head upwards, looking at Khun pleadingly, “I think you feel it, but I need to hear it. I need to know”.

Khun cupped Bam’s cheeks, wiping away the tear stains. He tilted his head down and pressed his lips to Bam’s forehead carefully, reverently. Bam sniffled, clinging tightly to Khun’s shirt.

He angled Bam’s head back up and pressed a gentle kiss against Bam’s lips, featherlight. Bam leaned into it, tears turning the kiss salty sweet. When Khun leaned back, he looked into Bam’s shimmering eyes.

“I love you, Bam. More than I can handle, more than I can keep inside me. You’re so precious to me, the one thing I want to keep close to my heart”.

Bam’s breath hitched, and soon Khun was being kissed within an inch of his life. It was desperate and terrified and needy, but it was perfect all the same. Khun kissed back, bringing Bam in as close as possible. He may lose Bam one day, but he’d never lose this moment, more precious than any gemstone.

After several long moments of just breathing each other in, Khun finally pulled away, “Now let’s get you cleaned up. You’re still bleeding”.

“Okay,” Bam sighed, kissing him one last time before he sat down on the edge of his bed. It was quiet as Khun pressed gauze over the wound on his chest and wrapped it in bandages, giving Bam kisses and gentle touches every few minutes as Bam’s breathing slowly calmed down.

It was quieter still as Khun cleaned Bam’s face up, kissing every bruise and bandaged cut. Finally, Bam broke the silence.

“Thank you, Khun”.

Khun made a decision, one he had only done once before. It was scary. More than. But Bam deserved this, at the very least.

“Call me Aguero,” he said, holding Bam’s face in his hands, a single tear falling down his cheek.

Bam’s hand went up to Khun’s face, wiping away the tear, “I love you, Aguero. You mean more to me than you know”.

“I think it’s about as much as you mean to me,” Khun said softly, kissing Bam’s cheekbone.

Bam giggled, “Impossible, because my love for you is taller than the Tower”.

Khun grinned, elated to see Bam finally perked up. He always looked beautiful, but he was gorgeous like this, dimples appearing as he smiled like the sun rising in the sky.

“My love for you is bigger than the supposed sky”.

“Well,” Bam puffed his cheeks out, thinking, before he smiled, “I love you more than Rak loves bananas!”

Khun laughed, flopping onto the bed on his side besides Bam, “Okay, okay. I can’t match that, but I’ll get you one day”.

Bam scooted towards him, and Khun opened his arms, welcoming him in. Bam curled up against Khun’s chest, sighing contentedly. Khun rubbed his back and threaded a hand through his hair, humming softly. 

“You’re more than I could have ever asked for,” Khun whispered into the night, kissing Bam’s forehead with the most delicate touch.

“You don’t have to ask,” Bam said scooching up to press a kiss to Khun’s own forehead, and Khun had a feeling that this was going to be a running theme, but he couldn’t complain, “I’m yours for free”.

“What a great discount,” Khun pecked Bam’s lips, “I’ll take you”.

“Would you like a receipt today?” Bam asked, yawning, and Khun laughed, leaning his forehead against Bam’s own.

“No, thank you. All I need is you”.

“You’re so sweet, Aguero,” Bam grinned, and Khun felt his face heat up. He’d been called a lot of things, most of them unflattering, but he’s never been called sweet before.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Khun said, nuzzling their noses together, “I have a reputation”.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Aguero,” Bam laughed, threading their fingers together and kissing the back of Khun’s hand.

“Are you just gonna keep saying my name?” Khun asked.

“I’m just really happy you let me!” Bam said, kissing his hand once, twice, three times more.

“And I’m happy you love me,” Khun smiled crookedly, larger than he ever had before.

“Always, Aguero. Always”.

#khun aguero agnes #25th bam #khunbam #tog #tower of god #my writing #tw violence #tw blood

[ditch-witches]

Rehearsal Dinner (George MacKay Smut)

So @iongaa​ really came through and murdered us with the aesthetic. Mother of God, how is she so talented.

requested: yes/no (your requests are always so intriguing, keep sending weird AUs for us)

pairing: stepbro!George MacKay x reader

warnings: literally everything. all of the sins. whoever can point them out gets a high five, okay?

word count: 5,414 (yikes)

a/n: there,,,, may be a ,,, part 2,,, because some of us got carried away,, 

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you made your way downstairs, basking in the scent of breakfast cooking over the stove. You took a seat at the kitchen table beside your dad's fiance. She smiled at you over the top of the morning paper, taking a sip of her coffee. Your father moved to set a plate in front of you and press a kiss to the top of your head before plopping down in the seat next to you. "Glad you're home," he cooed, grinning proudly as you took a bite of your collection of breakfast foods and nodded in approval. "Thank you for coming back for the wedding."

You sent him a small smile, "Of course!"

His fiance spoke up. "Speaking of, George should be on his way..." she trailed off as she looked at her watch and your heart sank.

"I thought he couldn't?" You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. George was the last person you wanted to be around. His cocky smirk flashed into your mind alongside his parade of girls he always brought home. Your parents had been dating for a few years now, most of your time in high school and well into your college years, yet the two of you had interacted as little as possible, only "playing nice" for Christmas. Every time the notion of George coming home came into discussion, you usually took off. Due to your ability now to escape from his arrogance, you hadn't seen him in a year, shoving the wedge between the two of you as much as possible. Your blood boiled as your memories of him taking up most of the couch and kicking you out of the house were unveiled.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" His mother asked, bringing you back into present time. You hadn't realized just how out of it you were until your fork fell from your hand, now bent almost completely in half. You exhaled, immediately apologizing for the vandalism and standing from the table, saying you were fine. "Are you sure?" She called after you.

You looked back over your shoulder, plastering on a fake smile. "Oh yeah! It's fine, everything's fine!" You all but sprinted for cover in your room, leaning against your door as your heart pounded in your chest. You let out a groan. Out of all people: George.

You pulled the sleeves of your blouse over your wrists to warm up more, yawning slightly as you lazily held a mock bouquet in your hand. You were mixed into the plethora of George's cousins serving as bridesmaids, feeling awkward and out of place as you only knew two of them really. You were the maid of honor, merely because it was your father that was getting married but you knew if he had any say, you would have been on his side and George in your place. In the excitement of family members arriving and the church being way too overbooked for the weekend, you had almost forgotten the impending doom that was "rushing to get here as we speak." You blew a bubble with your already stale gum, earning an eye roll from one of the many women. You tilted your head at her with a sarcastic grin.

The wedding planner clapped his hands, capturing the attention of the room and lining everyone up. He put you towards the back, which you were prepared for, yet then ushered the groomsmen in. You locked eyes with an all too familiar expression, your eyebrow raising at the man. His eyes were exactly the same, but for some reason, it was like puberty had hit him like a truck. "Now, this isn't usually how this works, but by request of the couple, we're switching things up," the planner groaned slightly, and George moved to stand beside you.

You snapped your eyes forward, clutching the bouquet in your hand tighter. There was chatter all around the two of you as everyone attempted to find their places. You kept your mouth shut, not wanting to make conversation with him. You took George's arm and he smirked down at you. "You gonna ignore me all night, darling?" He jeered, peering down at you and you rolled your eyes.

"What circus animal did you bring home this time, asshole?" He chuckled at your remark, pulling you tighter to his side.

He wet his lips. "Why? So you can get jealous again?"

You scoffed. "Grow up."

"After you, doll face." He bumped his hip against yours. "What have you been up to since I've been gone? Still a virgin?"

Your ears burned and you clenched your jaw. "Like it's any of your business." You sighed, attempting to calm your frazzling nerves at just his presence.

"You are so easy to stir up, love," he muttered, chuckling darkly.

You shut your eyes momentarily. "Would you just shut up so we can get this shitshow over?" He moved his hand to settle over yours positioned on his arm, your skin blazing at his touch, making you look up at him. He leaned towards your ear and you found yourself wanting to get closer to him. The smell of his aftershave was almost enticing enough for you to forget you were hating him.

His breath was warm against your neck and his accent deep and fuzzy in your ear. "Oh, darling, what's the fun in that?" You felt flushed and winded as he stepped away from you, his hand leaving your arm. "Steady now. I don't wanna have to throw you over my shoulder," he muttered, a smug look on his face as he turned forward, his posture upturned. He knew what he was doing. You were slightly taken aback, snapping your mouth shut and letting him lead you towards the altar behind the other members of the wedding party. You were silent during the rehearsal, locking eyes with George every so often only to dart your gaze away from him. It was difficult to pay attention to the jokes the priest was making while George continued to undress you with his eyes, and for some reason, you were into it.

You were quiet on the trip to the dinner, your mind almost numb as your thoughts flashed to George's breath on your neck and his overstimulating smell, not to mention the feeling of his hands. You almost moaned before your mind jumped into the present, grateful because you were sandwiched between your grandmother and one of your uncles in the back of your father's car. One of your second cousins turned over his shoulder to look at you. "Who was the guy you were walking with? New stepbrother?" He jeered and your shoulders tensed at that thought. What the fuck, he was going to be your stepbrother.

"Yeah, that's George. Handsome kid, don't you think?" Your father piped up and you grimaced.

The cousin snorted. "Don't encourage that. They'll end up as the wHaT aRe yOU dOinG sTepBro trope." You signed deeply.

"My mother is in the car!"

"He's not my stepbrother," you grumbled, attempting to drone out his voice.

"Yet," he jested, making you roll your eyes. "If you're gonna tap it, tap it now-"

"We're listening to the radio, see!" Your dad intervened, cutting him off and turning up the radio while singing overdramatically to the music, leaving you now to your burning mind. You chewed on your fingernail as your anxiety began to shoot through the roof. Before you knew it, you were engaging in small talk with your cousin and her friend as the giant table was being set. Looking around at the expensive hall the dinner was being held in, the thought of how your father and future stepmother got the money for such a venue while putting one kid through college and the other through graduate school crossed your mind. Your cousin's friend was a nice way to get your mind off of George, he was funny and totally in love with your cousin, evident in the way his eyes brightened when she would talk to him or laugh at one of his jokes. The only eyes on you when you laughed were George's as he bantered with groups of men closer to his age across the room. He'd eye you over the brim of his glass, his strong hands making your mouth water as he would tap one of his rings against the crystal absentmindedly.

"So, how do you feel about your dad getting married? The new family giving you trouble?" Your cousin's friend asked, nudging your arm at his light-hearted joke.

You shrugged. "If he's happy, I'm happy. The woman he's marrying is a total badass too so, really it's fine." You ran a hand through your hair, shooting a glance towards George and he looked at you with a smirk. You felt like you needed a dousing of holy water to combat your temptations.

George seemed to be fighting his own urges as he excused himself from his party and walked over to your group, settling his hand on your lower back to whisper in your ear. "Come with me," he mumbled. "I'm going to steal her for a few minutes if that's okay with you guys?" He asked your cousin, her cheeks slightly red as she looked like she would swoon if he came near her. Her friend eyed you before the two shrugged you away with George. George walked beside you as the two of you walked out of the room and down the hall, turning a few corners until you could no longer hear the party. He slipped his hand into yours before pinning you to a wall swiftly.

"What are you doing?" You muttered unevenly, heat pulsing through your body as one of his hands rested on your hip, your hand absentmindedly pushed his sleeve up to expose his veiny arm to your touch. It was like your body had a mind of its own.

"You think I'm going to let you eye fuck me all night without repercussions, pet?" You swallowed at his words, the deepness of his voice making your legs almost jelly. His other hand ran up your body, over your breast to take part of your collar between his index and thumb as he rubbed the fabric between his finger pads. "Was that guy your little boyfriend?" He tisked darkly. "So cute," he mocked, his hungry eyes darting up to yours. Your mind was absolutely putty as his smell invaded your senses. You tried not to focus on his knee propped between your legs. His fingers ghosted against your neck until the pad of his thumb brushed over your bottom lip before you took his thumb into your mouth, your eyes burning into his as his jaw tensed, focused on the movements of your tongue swirling against it. The feeling of his fingers resting against your jaw during this action egged you. He drew his thumb from your mouth, running it down your chin before his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. "Dirty girl," he growled before crashing his lips against yours, making you moan against him as he pushed himself against you.

The taste of liquor on his lips blended with your flavored chapstick as your tongue slipped into his mouth. In a mess of tugging and biting each other, your body melted into his rough grasp. You wanted whatever repercussions his twisted mind could come up with. You wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you. You fought against diving your hands into his trousers to beg him to continue, but he broke away from you as you fought to catch your breath. Your lips were buzzing as the feeling of him still lingered. He brought his hand back up to your jaw again, tipping your chin up. "Say it," the devil's grin painted across his face before he continued, pressing his lips against yours once more, his teeth dragging your bottom lip slowly between his teeth. "Say you're dirty, darling," he ordered, his face hovering over yours as his hand squeezed your throat.

You moaned quietly as he regulated your breathing with his hand. You wanted to drink in his dark, commanding appearance. "I'm dirty," you panted. He stepped away from you and you nearly slipped down the wall, completely out of breath and flustered, missing his hands on your body.

"Pull yourself together," he jested darkly, sending you a smoldering gaze as he pushed his other sleeve to his elbow. It's like he already knew your weaknesses. "Answer me."

"Yes, sir," you responded, your mouth seeming to know what he expected. He nodded with a smug expression as he gestured for you to walk back into the room with him while you straightened your shirt and fixed your hair.

He stopped you, reaching to fix your collar and you fought against the blush growing across your body. His smirk grew. "God, you're trembling. It'll be difficult leaving you alone at dinner," he almost groaned. You fought against kissing him again as his dark eyes surveyed your expression, the gears turning in his mind at the sight of you. God, you wanted him.

You were shoved into a seat beside George, he sent you a small grin as he took a sip of his drink and the waiters began to serve the main course. You were positioned towards the end of the table with the rest of your cousins and George on the line between the "cousins' table" and where the older people sat discussing politics and climate change. Your cousins mainly discussed hot TA's and movies that were premiering. "George, what's your major?" George perked up at a question directed to him, oozing charm as he began to tell one of the younger girls at the table about his degree, but half of his response fuzzed out of your attention as his hand slipped to your knee beneath the table cloth. You froze momentarily, your breath hitching in your chest as your chewing slowed.

It was like he was completely unaffected, continuing the conversation as his hand slid further up your thigh, fingers curling to wrap around your inner thigh. Your eyes snapped to him, pretending to listen to him as well as his fingers ran circles against your sensitive skin. You sighed unevenly. The fabric of your skirt was ruffled as he was slowly reaching your heat. The conversation deterred and George leaned towards you a bit. "Take a sip of water," he directed, lowly, his eyes tearing away from you. You furrowed your brows slightly but as his expression flipped, you didn't question him, raising the glass to your lips nonchalantly and one of his fingers brushed against your core, making you almost choke. He chuckled slightly. "Smooth?" He asked loud enough that it eased the slightly worried expressions directed towards you.

You set down your glass, coughing falsely. "Wrong pipe," you grumbled. His hand pushed your legs apart as he took a bite of his food, unbothered. His fingers ghosted against your underwear and you bit back a moan wanting to vibrate through your body.

"Hey, did you hear about that senator that died last week?" Someone asked you, knowing full well you kept up with information like that.

You shifted in your seat, looking like you were attempting to choose your words carefully, but in reality, you were trying to get George to leave you alone for a moment. "Heart attack right? It should be fine-" your voice cut out as George's finger moved your underwear to the side and he toyed with your nerves more. His face was so neutral it was like he wasn't pleasuring you at all as he chewed, listening to your words. "I mean," your voice came out unevenly as you tried to calm yourself against his movements. "He'll be replaced before something drastic can happen." Your voice dropped an octave as his finger slipped into you. He positioned his hand to a more comfortable angle and your hand dropped to wrap around his wrist, beginning him to stop. "Too bad this one wasn't an actor," you joked.

"So, how do they go about replacing a Senator?" George questioned, his face almost breaking into a smile as your eyes shot daggers into his. His finger curled inside of you, making you breathe deeply, your eyes wanting to squeeze shut in pleasure.

You furrowed your brows, feeling like you were running a marathon. "Oh, come on, I know you already know how the US system runs."

His finger sped up and before you knew it, another one was added. "Yeah, I'm still not entirely sure though." He continued to sidestep so the attention of the section of the table was on you. You clamped your thighs together, hoping to stop his movements but instead drew his fingers deeper into you.

Your mind blurred. "Well, um..." You wet your lips, trying not to look like you were jonesing to grind against George's palm to finally get yourself off. Your hand ran up against his arm again, the veins bulging as his hands quickened, making you see stars as your climax was almost within reach. George's mom and your dad began to make their rounds at the table, thanking people as they went.

"Are you okay? You look kind of flushed," George commented, making his mother's brow furrow. You sighed, wanting to dig your face into the crook of his neck or kiss him: anything, you just needed more of him. He removed his fingers from you and you let out a small noise, he slyly wiped his hands on his napkin and you grabbed his hand beneath the table, lacing your fingers and squeezing as if to motion your urgency.

George's mother pressed the back of her hand against your warm cheeks. "I'm fine..." you commented, looking up at her momentarily, your hand gripping onto George's.

His mother sighed. "Are you sure? I can drive you home if you're not feeling well?" Your father came around the table at her words and you were more embarrassed than anything.

"What's going on?" The man commented, his smile faltering.

His mother frowned. "She's not feeling well, dear."

"Don't worry about it, mum. I can take her," George piped up, running his thumb over the back of your hand before letting go of you and standing up. A chorus of goodbyes called to you as you assured your father and his future bride that you were really fine, just tired, as George helped you into your jacket. You found it difficult to stand with how unsatisfied you were. You followed him out into the cold air around one side of the building as he almost stalked to an expensive-looking car. Your eyebrow perked at the vehicle. "Like it?" He asked, his smug grin making your blood boil.

"What was that back there?" You nipped, pulling on his arm so he was looking at you, his grin widening.

"Which part?" He got dangerously close to you. "When you couldn't handle my fingers, or when you were begging me to get you off?" Your breathing shallowed once again, either from how furious you were at him or how turned on you were you didn't know. His hand settled on your neck, bringing your lips towards his briefly in a searing kiss. "Don't worry, love. You have it coming for you still." Fuck, you wanted him to rip you in half. He dangled the keys in front of your face. "Wanna drive?"

You groaned slightly, unlocking his car and opening the passenger door, shoving him inside and climbing into his lap, shutting the door behind yourself. "Fuck you," you bit. His grin darkened and he pulled the lever on the seat, laying the seat down a bit further. One of his large hands slipped against your thigh again, grabbing at your ass and urging you to grind against him while the other settled in the crook of your neck. You kissed him hungrily, your need pulsing through your body with your new-found friction. He moved beneath you, smiling against your greedy mouth, knotting his fingers into your hair. You felt him getting harder with each of your movements. You fisted your hands in his jacket as you pulled away from him curling your hips to find your sweet spot. His hand explored your body, gripping your breast as he sucked at the thin skin against your collarbones, moaning into your hair.

God, he wasn't even inside of you but his encouragement was a high you wanted to ride as long as you could. His fingers dug into your hips and you half hoped he would leave bruises. You wanted him to mark you. The car windows began to fog as your movements and George's warm breath filled the air. "Fuck, I want you," he growled into your ear.

"Take me home," you almost whimpered, halting your actions. His hand moved to your neck again, pressing his lips against yours.

"Beg," he demanded. "Tell me exactly what you want, baby."

"I said take me home," you breathed. His dark eyes searched yours for submission, but you were quite flustered from tonight's events. You needed a few moments to collect your thoughts on what George could be thinking about doing to you as 'punishment'. You climbed off of him into the driver's seat ready to take his car for a spin. You noticed just how much George's actions had affected you as you felt your hands shaking to take the wheel. You could feel his eyes raking over you as you put the car in drive. You were determined to make it home in one piece and not a complete puddle of need, but even the thought of his eyes on you were making that task completely impossible.

"What to do, what to do," he almost tsked next to you. "You've really got me going tonight haven't you," he seemed to ask, but you knew he wasn't looking for an answer. You could feel his warm hand coming into contact with your leg, you wet your lips, attempting to shake the thought of desire he seemed to be flooding you with and keep the car under control. His hand slowly started to progress further towards your heat and for the second time tonight, you weren't all that opposed to the thought of his long fingers curling inside you again.

"We're here," you managed to squeak out. George was already out and at your door before you had managed to undo your seatbelt. He bent down, reached over you and undid it for you, making sure to keep his contact with every inch of you he could. His arms scoped you up to carry you into the house and up the stairs to his room. You hadn't been to his room since you had met him. It was sort of like a secret law that it was off-limits and a privilege if you were invited inside. Not even his mom was allowed into the dwellings of his layer. You had just enough time to notice the picture on the dresser was of the two of you and your blend of cousins posed on the family couch last Christmas before your body was thrust on to the linen-covered mattress. You had never seen his eyes this shade before, they were so dark and full of lust. You were drinking in every detail of him just as much as he was of you.

"Take your clothes off," he stated smoothly standing at the foot of the bed, eyes locked on your body. Complying quickly, you unbuttoned your blouse, slipping it off your shoulders to reveal your flushed chest. George's eyes widened at the sight knowing you were already in such need of him you could barely contain yourself any longer. He slowly mimicked your actions removing his dress shirt leaving you in awe of the man standing before you and the endless possibilities of what he wanted to do to you. His fingers danced up your legs teasing your all too sensitive core. His fingers traced your center just barely being covered by the cloth entrapment. You were ready for anything he was willing to give you. His body shifted, his arm reaching across you into the bedside drawer and revealing a pair of bright red furry handcuffs. Your breath caught in your throat, this was not what you were expecting and still, you felt ready for George's idea of punishment. You had never been bound before, but were more than ready to try anything to overcome your excessive need for friction.

"Place your hands out in front of you," he whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine. You did as you were told feeling the faux material covered clasp around your wrists leaving your arms entirely under the command of George. You heard the clang of other cuffs being brought out, you turned your attention to him just as his lips crashed on to yours sealing your lips into a lustful kiss. His hands outlined your arms all the way to your wrists that were held together. His fingers wrapped around the metal pushing your arms above your head and locking them against the headboard. Your heart pounded with excitement as he traced your body down with kisses, brushing the inside of your thighs with his hands. You knew where this was leading and your body was ready. His actions halted just above where you needed him the most as he locked eyes with you almost teasing you with anticipation. "Tell me what you need," his dark tone murmured. You had no words. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The only action you were capable of was attempting to open your legs to answer his question.

His toned arms slipped under your legs wrapping around your hips as he positioned himself between you. Your toes curled in pleasure as his warm breath drew closer to you. It seemed as if time was in slow motion: you needed him and you needed him now. His eyes were still locked on yours as he came in contact with your heat. Your legs attempted to close in response to the feeling as you moaned in pain and pleasure from the restraints holding you back from grabbing his hair. The rumble of his laughter against you was almost enough to send you over the edge as he pushed your legs back open for better access to you. The sight of him down on you was more than enough to drive you crazy, but his pace was beginning to quicken and you didn't think you could last much longer. Your eyes drifted shut as pleasure was taking the better of you. George slipped a finger inside earning a gasp from your lips as he began to finger fuck you. Your high was approaching quickly and you needed more. "Faster," you mumbled.

"What was that sweetheart," George muttered against you.

"Faster," you begged. George complied, seeing you like this was driving him crazy. His fingers pounded into you as he sucked your nub. The knot in your stomach tightened. Finally, you were able to get relief from the tension George had built up all night as you released. "Oh fuck," you moaned as George hovered above you.

"Ready for round two love," he quipped darkly. You were more than happy to accept his rough kisses. His slight stubble was rough against your chin, you knew you'd pay for it in the morning, but tonight a little burn was the least of your worries. "Are you going to do as you're told," he whispered into your neck, accent gruff and domineering.

"Yes sir," you responded almost too naturally as his strong arms flipped you unto your stomach. He adjusted your knees underneath you so that you had support underneath him.

His hand wound into your hair as he slipped inside of you and began thrusting leaving you no time to adjust to him. Moans of pure bliss escaped your lips as his head neared yours. "Might want to keep quiet, love, someone's home," he whispered, his teeth grazing your ear lobe. Your need to scream for more now had to be muted and the only sound heard was the slapping of his skin against yours. George used your hips as leverage for his unwavering pace leaving you a mess of pleasure beneath him. His lips found their way to your neck as he nipped against the sensitive skin. You wanted him to mark you, to claim you. His hand from your hair became wrapped around your throat as he began to reach his peak. His hand slapped your ass with such force you knew there was a handprint, but you were too overwhelmed with the noises escaping his lips and your high threatened to disobey your control to be concerned with the sting. If anything it threatened to push you over the edge. George could feel you threatening to release. His strong hand wrapped tightly around your neck again, "Don't cum until I give you permission," he mumbled darkly against your shoulder. You tried your best to obey him fighting all erg to give in to the pleasure he teased you with. Slowing his pace he thrust deeper into you earning quiet moans from your lips. You couldn't hold on much longer.

"Can I cum," you whined. George grunted in response tangling his hand in your hair and thrusting deeper into you hitting your sweet spot with every move.

"Cum for me love," he practically bit against your shoulder sending you into a scream of pleasure as you were finally able to ride out your high against him. You could feel him twitch inside of you filling you with warmth. He unchained your hands from the bed frame allowing your body to return to your back. He flopped next to you and kissed you lightly. "That was amazing," he whispered against your lips. Exhausted from the escapade of the night you simply laid your head on his chest in response and pulled the sheets up for the both of you to drift off to sleep.

Your head pounded as you opened your eyes, the blinding light streaming through your windows serving to ruin your morning. You shivered slightly, realizing you were fully naked and a slight panic set in as you thought about last night, your body already aching from George's tactics. You shut your eyes momentarily, thinking about him on top of you once again, moaning in your ear, his hand around your throat, and realized the aching was worth it. You weren't surprised when you found the bed beside you empty, your ears perking up at the muffled sounds of someone in the kitchen. You quickly got dressed and trampled down the stairs. Upon entering the kitchen, you were greeted by your father like he had the day before, only instead of a woman at the head of the table, George smirked up at you. Your eyes glued to his, your body feeling heat once again.

You cleared your throat, trying to pull yourself together. "I thought the bride and groom weren't supposed to see each other until the wedding?" You asked, voice slightly uneven as you took a seat across from George, gingerly sipping the orange juice in front of you and attempting not to wince at the beard burn on your chin from George's slight whiskers the night before. George watched you carefully, a flash of pride in his eyes at your flustered state.

George's mother chuckled. "There are worse things to doom a marriage," she joked, flashing a wink up towards your father who was cutting some kind of fruit.

He shook his head. "So, where did you two run off last night?"

Your breath caught in your throat. "Bonding," George answered coolly.

His mother raised her eyebrows. "Bonding? How? Wasn't she sick last night?"

Your mind was blank, but George was quick on his feet. "She got to feeling better on the way, so I took her to a strip club. She left with a man named," he paused, turning to you, a smug look on his face, "what was his name? Alejandro?"

Your eyes went wide with shock. "Ah! That's my girl!" Your dad called from over the stove and you groaned as George laughed making your eye twitching.

#george mackay x reader #george mackay smut #george mackay imagines #george mackay #1917 imagines #1917 smut #requested

[one-boring-person]

Only Traitors Consort With The Damned. (Part Four)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: blood, graphic violence, death

Context: Elijah and (Y/n) hunt a couple of vampires down.

A/N: So I have quite a lot I want to write at the moment, meaning that I nearly forgot about this, so I apologise if it feels a little rushed. Again, the boys don't play a major role in this part, but they will later on in the story, I promise!

Masterlist

"Any chance we can try and keep this clean tonight? Clearing up is always a pain in this town." I whisper to the Hunter crouched beside me, our eyes fixed intently on the three figures further into the alley, their attention on something else entirely.

"I can't promise anything." Elijah chuckles lowly, edging forwards slightly as he draws his pistol, screwing on a silencer as he goes, signalling for me to do the same, waiting as I rush to obey him. Expertly, I cock the pistol and ready it for use, checking the clip silently in the darkness, taking off the safety as we move further into the alley, the two of us moving with each other as if we've been doing it for years. In unison, we lift our firearms to eye level.

"On three." Elijah commands, voice calm and steady, "One...two...three."

As one, we compress the triggers, the bullets tearing through the air as they hurtle towards our targets, easily finding their marks. Screeches of pain and outrage echo loudly in the alley as blood spurts from the wounds, though we don't pay any attention to them, cocking our guns again, firing at will, our rounds quickly depleting as every bullet finds its mark. Well aware that wooden bullets will not instantly kill them, we draw our stakes and step out of the shadows, advancing on the three vampires recovering on the floor. Upon seeing us, they snap back upright, teeth bared in anger and pain, eyes flashing ominously as they mimic our moves, stepping in time with us, ready to pounce at us. Internal conversation seems to happen, as they then suddenly lunge forwards, two of them colliding with me as the other attacks Elijah, knocking me to the floor with a grunt of surprise.

Instinctually, I kick out, catching one of them somewhere fleshy as I claw and stab at the other, the stake sinking into muscle and tendons why satisfying squelches, screams and cries of agony accompanying my every move, though they are short lived as the two vampires manage to pin me down, keeping me spread eagled and prone. Instantly, they both lean down to bite into me, one at my neck, the other at my shoulder, gasps of agony escaping me as their fangs sink into me, though a short bitter laugh accompanies it as they suddenly pull back, hissing and spitting in disgust and surprise, blood (both mine and their own) spilling from their open mouths. In that split second, I lunge upwards and plunge the stake into the heart of the closest, driving it deeply into the chest cavity, teeth gritting together as gore erupts out onto my clothes, staining my face.

Shrieking, the vampire falls to the floor, dying and writhing as I go to stand, only to be pulled back by the other, panic fluttering inside me as their hands clamp around my throat, nails digging into my skin, drawing blood as they start to squeeze, triumphant cackle loud and unpleasant in my ears. Struggling for breath, I claw at the vice-like grip, kicking out and writhing, the edges of my vision slowly going fuzzy as the oxygen stops reaching my brain.

Feeling my energy start to dwindle, I notice my limbs going limp, my arms heavy and leaden as my eyes roll back into my head, unconsciousness threatening to take over, prompting the vampire to suddenly drop me to the floor, my knees colliding painfully with the concrete. Instantly, it's hands are back around my throat this time with the intention of tearing out my windpipe, but I've recovered quickly enough, my hands reaching into my pocket, finding what I'm looking for. Twisting, I smash it against their chest, a cloud of mist enveloping the vampire as screams and shouts of agony erupt from them, the holy water grenade having the desired effect.

With one last burst of energy, I pull the stake from the fallen body of the first vampire and thrust it into the heart of the second, crying out in exertion as they collapse onto me, impaling themselves on it. Throwing it sideways, I look over at Elijah, who is crouched by the remains of the other vampire, blue eyes meeting mine across the gap, taking in my bloodied appearance critically.

"Lets not get too dirty, eh?" He remarks, standing and coming over after removing his stake from the vampire, helping me to my feet with a small flourish, inspecting my injuries in concern.

"Shut up." I growl, brushing myself off as I look him over, annoyed to find him nearly spotless somehow.

"Sorry. You gonna be ok? You've been bitten and scratched pretty badly." He muses, taking off his coat and offering it to me in place of my now-filthy one. Smiling tiredly, I accept the offer and slipbthe coat on, enjoying the sense of comfort it brings.

"I'll be ok, thanks. I'll go back home and fix myself up. You've got a hotel room, right?" I ask him, bending down to the bodies at my feet once more, taking the knife from my pocket as I do so.

"I do, but I can stay at yours tonight, if that helps?" Elijah replies, going to his own quarry and doing the same as I am: pulling back their lip and cutting out their left fang, soemthing all SRS Hunters are required to do, in order to prove a kill.

"No, don't worry about it. I'll survive the walk home." I decline, taking the two bloodied fangs and sticking them in my pocket, ready to go in the case back at my home, my fingers slick with gore as I slip the blade back into its sheath, my bites now beginning to hurt as I take the feet of both corpses and drag them behind a steel bin. Taking out the hip flask we all have to carry, I douse the bodies in lighter fluid, waiting for Elijah to move his own body over before setting them on fire with my lighter, aware that the remains will no longer be recognisable in the morning, after having been burnt and then obscured by the morning rain that will no doubt put out the flames before they can spread. Elijah watches all this with a critical eye.

I pull another bin across them before I turn to leave, grabbing my gun on the way, intending to take the back roads put of Santa Carla to avoid being seen and reported, aware that my appearance is not the most normal. Elijah follows me, keeping up a quiet conversation as I lead him through the labyrinth of roads and alleys, the two of us falling back into our natural habits with ease, as if we were both still Cadets back in Hunting School, joking and messing around with each other. It takes fifteen minutes of this for us to find his hotel, where he says goodbye and leaves me, still holding his holdall even after the excitement of the evening.

Blood stained and tired, I turn my back on the hotel and walk home, hoping to get washed before I get to sleep, hating the reek that has taken over my body, feeling stiff and dirty. Before long, the small shed comes into view, everything just as I left it this morning.

Grabbing the bucket of water outside the door, I head inside and lock myself in as best I can, going further into the room in the darkness, able to navigate it pretty well through instinct. Placing the bucket down, I reach into my pocket and flick on my lighter, locating a candle and lighting it, soon able to see a little better. I go around the room and light more of the candles placed around there, soon having a pleasant ring of light to do stuff in, only to then realise I'm not alone, as I first thought.

"What the hell happened to you?" Is the first thing I hear before I realise who it is, rolling my eyes when I recognise Paul's voice.

"Went on a hunt. Got messy and bitten. It happens." I prompt him dismissively, standing back a bit as I debate how to tell them to leave the room, in desperate need of some privacy so I can change in peace.

"You got bitten?!" David speaks up, stepping further into the candlelight with a worried look on his face, the others following suit.

"Yeah, twice. It's not the first time, David, don't worry. I'll just clean it and I'll be fine. Speaking of which, could you guys leave the room whilst I change? Please?"

Wordlessly, they walk out of the room and into the cold outside, waiting whilst i make an effort to clean myself up with the bucket of water, scrubbing the blood off of myself with some luck, my clothes needing a much more through clean, though that is to be expected. Pulling on some new ones, I go outside with my clothes and the bucket, leaving them there as I invite the boys back inside. Finding my first aid kit, I go to start dressing my wounds, only to find myself struggling in the dim light.

Dwayne immediately steps forwards to help me, deft fingers replacing mine as he works at cleaning and closing up the bite mark, his look of jealousy hidden to me as he sees the intimate placing of the wound. As his hands brush against my skin, I try to ignore the rising blush in my cheeks, turning instead to watch the others, only for my cheeks to darken when I see David, Marko and Paul staring at me with intensity. It takes Dwayne around five minutes to finish up, by which time the air is significantly tenser and more charged, as if something happened that no one was supposed to see.

He steps away from me, turning away as he licks his fingers clean, hissing suddenly at the tatse.

"Do you inject yourself with holy water? Why the hell does this taste so...painful?" He bursts out, dark eyes finding mine.

"All SRS Hunters are required to drink it, so that supernatural beings can't drink or use our blood for anything. It's quite a good defence tactic at times." I inform him, yawning suddenly as the energy leaves my body.

"Long day, huh?" Marko chips in from somewhere behind the others, the curly haired vampire chuckling at the grumble he receives in response.

"We should probably leave you, then. We just wanted to make sure you were alright seeing as we never really saw you tonight." David muses, reaching out to brush my hair from my face as he smiles down at me, blue eyes unnaturally soft.

"I'm sorry. It's gonna be like that for a few more days or so, as long as the Senior Officer is here, I can't see you guys so often. I don't want you getting caught." I warn him, standing from my seat as I try to ignore the butterflies in my stomach, my cheek tingling from where he touched me.

"A shame, but thank you, anyway. We'll see you around." David says, smiling once more before turning and leaving, Dwayne waving at me as he follows. Marko and Paul stepping forwards to sweep me into a hug before leaving themselves, crushing me against their chests almost protectively.

"See ya, (Y/n)." Paul calls as they walk out, leaving me alone again.

Part Five

#the lost boys #joel schumacher #vampire #david(thelostboys) #kiefer sutherland #paul(the lost boys) #dwayne(the lost boys) #santa carla #marko(the lost boys) #star(the lost boys)

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - 68

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 68: Seed of Slaughter (VII)

Qi Leren came out of the courthouse intact, alone.

The pendant hanging on his chest was heavy. It was hidden underneath his clothes and stuck to his skin. It was slightly chilly. The pendant had the same shape and function as the gem on Miao Li’s ring. Once the black fog symbolizing demonic power overflowed the whole ring face, it also meant that his death had come.

He had come out with this pendant, which meant that he agreed to the conditions of the court. "We someone new, and the shorter the time since they’ve entered the Nightmare World, the better. 

“Their interpersonal relationships should be simple, and their own strength should be passable. The most important thing was that they have to live up to the task, and will not collapse or even give up on themselves from time to time like garbage,” Miao Li's words echoed in his mind. "There aren’t many things to do, and it won't be too difficult at first. If you’re lucky, you can even get rid of this identity and return to the track of an ordinary player soon. Although the kind of seed on you is a bit troublesome, we can use a secret method of the Holy See to help you remove it. If you do a good job, maybe you can enter the Trials Office and get more resources.

"We won't contact you very often, and please don't contact the court, don't tell anyone these secrets about the seed and the court, and keep a low profile; keep to yourself and be an ordinary person like before we found you. We'll send someone to train you, maybe tonight. Well, you can leave now."

So Qi Leren returned home in a little dreamy trance. But in half a day, he had escaped from the edge of life and death, and was sent to the mysterious Trials Office, and now he has become an undercover agent! Although Miao Li didn't tell him what he needed to do, he could guess some things. He was afraid the judgment hall needed a clean new person to enter the camp of Devil of Slaughter believers, and then hunt them down.

The seed of slaughter in the back of his neck still hurt dully. Qi Leren touched the painful place, where it would sprout soon. The growing seed of slaughter would gradually eat away at his reason. Especially in battle, the surge of adrenaline would stimulate its growth. If it wasn’t controlled, it would only be a matter of time before he went completely crazy. The way to control the growth of the seed of slaughter was to avoid too many battles as much as possible, and the second was to restrain its growth by external force. Holy water and other items of the Holy See could restrain the seed of slaughter to a certain extent. At the same time, he also needed to be careful not to be in contact with demon crystals too much, otherwise the seed of slaughter would accelerate its growth because of the stimulation from the demon energy.

After washing, Qi Leren lied in bed exhausted, and looked at the survival days: 54 days and 23 hours.

The gentle colours of sunset shone in from outside the window, and Qi Leren blocked his eyes with the back of his hand. The golden red light still stubbornly struggled through the gaps to his eyes, just like a bright red sea of fire. The feeling of weightlessness from when he’d jumped down from the airship swept through him again, and Qi Leren kicked his leg like he had a cramp, only to wake up from the illusion of falling.

He let out a breath, took the cold water from his bed and drank it, dousing the memory of death.

But it was still too clear. Every time he used the S/L skill, he was accompanied by the pain of death. Those memories were hidden deep in his mind and firmly suppressed with willpower. But when he was tired, they would quietly break free and return to his consciousness, making him afraid.

Qi Leren curled up in a different position. The quilt left by the last owner of this room smelled old. He covered his face with the quilt and blocked the sunset. Instead, he felt relieved in the darkness, holding the pendant warmed by his body temperature. There was a dark breath in the silvery white gem. One day it would overflow with darkness. Maybe one day he would die silently on a mission like Lu Youxin and many other people who died here.

He suddenly remembered Ning Zhou’s pendant. In the final battle underground, he had picked up Ning Zhou's pendant and held it in his hand. Then he fell into a coma. After waking up, the pendant had disappeared. It should’ve been picked up by Ning Zhou.

In the pendant was a woman with a holy aura and blue eyes like Ning Zhou …

Exhaustion seemed to be flooding in, and Qi Leren sleepily thought that he should forget about Ning Zhou soon, and fell into a deep sleep.

　　

　　&&&

　　

"Are you here?"

Qi Leren found himself floating in a starry sky. He looked at the owner of the voice. Miao Li, whom he had seen in the courthouse not long ago, sat in a chair. She floated in the starry sky like him, with an open book on her knee.

"Where is this place?" Qi Leren did not dare to act rashly, for fear that he would fall if he moved slightly.

"This is your dream. As I said, we will send someone to train you tonight, which is the safest way to keep secrets. The best thing is that such awareness training will not affect the seed of slaughter, and we can avoid it growing rapidly from you being too active." Miao Li closed the book and made a ring. A chair appeared behind Qi Leren, and she motioned him to sit down.

Qi Leren sat down and asked straight away, "Where do we start?"

"You’re a newcomer with a hasty personality." Miaoli sighed, "I still want to talk to you about the situation in the Nightmare World."

This was an area that Qi Leren didn't understand at all. He was silent for a moment and politely said, "Please go ahead."

"Simply put, the Twilight Township is the main settlement for players now, and it can basically be said to be the only settlement." Miao Li turned the ring on her finger and said slowly.

"Isn't there a Village of Dawn?" Qi Leren couldn’t help but interrupt.

"Oh, the Village of Dawn." Miao Li's smile was a bit subtle. "There aren’t many players there. Those who can go there are, to some extent, not players."

Qi Leren looked at her in astonishment, and he remembered Su He.

"Basically, players who can complete the task of entering the Village of Dawn are not normal people, so to speak, they are half GM. If you want to count the Village of Dawn as a settlement of players, there are many other places to include, for example, the base camp of the Holy See - Neverland. After the Holy City was captured by the Devil, the Holy See moved to Neverland. Although most of them were NPCs, some players triggered related tasks in the Nightmare World and entered the Holy See’s camp. Some chose to live in Neverland," Miao Li said.

"...Is Ning Zhou the same?" Qi Leren couldn't help but ask.

"Eh? Do you know Ning Zhou?" Miao Li asked curiously.

Qi Leren nodded his head.

"Yes, he’s a member of the Holy See. Most of the time, he’s never in one town. It’s said that the Pope attaches great importance to him. He occasionally serves as the messenger of the Holy See to convey some instructions. After all, the Trials Office is also regarded as an extended department of the Holy See."

Qi Leren responded sullenly, not asking about Ning Zhou again, but listening to Miao Li continue to say, "You should know about the three Devil Kings. In fact, they don't just exist in worldbuilding stories, and many tasks in the Nightmare World are inseparable from them. The Devil of Fraud is relatively low-key, and there is very little information about it, while Power and Slaughter are very troublesome, especially Power. It confuses countless players with the ideal country. In my opinion, this is a completely evil thing to teach."

"What is an ideal country?" Qi Leren had never heard of it.

"To put it simply, it creates a place similar to a land of pure bliss. As long as the player signs a contract with it, he no longer has to suffer for survival. He will live in an ideal country forever, will not be born or die, and will enjoy all the bliss he wants to enjoy. This is an irresistible temptation for many credulous and weak guys." Miao Li smiled mockingly.

"It's really..." Qi Leren frowned disapprovingly.

"Stupid, right?" Miao Li shrugged her shoulders. "You have a closer relationship with another, though. Players who believe in Devil of Slaughter have a secret association called the Slaughter Secret Meeting. All members are parasitized players who worship Slaughter. Some may also be NPCs. They have another system inside. Currently, they’re secretly developing players. In the future, we’ll arrange that for you. A different identity will help you join the Slaughter Secret Meeting. If you don't want your identity to be seen through too quickly and come to a bad end, you have to learn something."

"Learn what?" Qi Leren's spirit was shaken.

Miao Li pushed the black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of the nose and said with awe: "Learn to lie first."

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#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei