#with Link watching and lusting and WANTING NONE OF IT so he tells himself

[jayden-writes]

poisoned

pairing: none

main protagonists: Lucifer, Diavolo, gn!Reader

word count: ~3k

genre: hurt/comfort (more hurt than comfort), angst, whump

cw: near death experience (please do tell me if there's something else that needs a cw!)

summary: Not everyone approves of Lord Diavolo's exchange program.

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!

There was a certain tension in the air during the banquet Lord Diavolo hosted to celebrate the beginning of the exchange program; while everyone smiled politely or at least held carefully neutral expressions on their faces, nothing could hide the blatant disdain in some of their eyes. You tried not to be affected by the stares burning into your back, but it was difficult. It had been a mere week since you’d been transported into the Devildom and you were still adjusting to the new environment. To say that you were struggling would have been an understatement - you were surrounded by immortal and potentially dangerous beings, constantly reminded of your fragility and insignificance in comparison to them. Living in the House of Lamentation with the Avatars of Sin wasn’t without stress either, you were always subjected to their eccentric behaviors and arguments.

An unexpected touch on your shoulder nearly made you yelp, and you bit your tongue to stifle the sound. Heart throbbing in your chest, you turned towards whoever had touched you and tentative relief washed over you when you recognized Asmodeus.

“You look ravishing, darling,” he cooed, linking his arm with yours, “well, not quite as ravishing as me, of course, but that’s to be expected.”

He gracefully led you to the tables, talking about how stunning your outfit was - he had picked it out himself - as he walked, while you stayed silent, too focused on not accidentally tripping over your own feet and embarrassing yourself in front of what was probably the majority of Devildom’s aristocracy. The guests were taking their assigned seats one by one and to your horror, you noticed Asmodeus was deliberately walking you to the seating places of Lucifer, Lord Diavolo, and the Purgatory Hall group - a single free spot was between the two demons.

“No, no no no, you can’t be serious,” you whispered to Asmo, hoping the people around you didn’t have such superior hearing that they would be able to make out your words. “They're all going to stare at me! They already are! Why don’t you sit there in my stead, you want to be in the spotlight, don’t you?”

The Avatar of Lust giggled and pulled the chair out, helping you get seated, then he leaned down to murmur into your ear, “As much as I would like that, you’re supposed to be the star of today’s evening, my dear.”

Giving you a wink, he withdrew and sauntered over to the opposite side of the long table, leaving you stuck amidst the prince and the eldest of the brothers. You could feel Lucifer’s critical gaze on you, however, you refused to look at him, opting to watch the attendees instead, being careful not to establish eye contact with anyone. After just a short moment, Lord Diavolo said your name cheerfully, redirecting your attention to him.

“Ah, I can’t wait to officially introduce you to everybody,” he beamed, and it took all of your willpower not to jump out of your seat and run out.

“Yeah… me neither…” you mumbled, shoulders sagging in defeat.

Lucifer cleared his throat, and you shifted your face towards him before he smoothly remarked, “I’m sure you will do perfectly fine and behave appropriately, won’t you?”

Swallowing hard, you promptly corrected your posture, sitting up straight again. His eyes were piercing through yours until you swiftly averted your gaze, this time letting it settle on the plate and cutlery in front of you. Someone from behind you poured an odd-looking liquid into your glass and you eyed it suspiciously. It didn’t look like any beverage you’ve ever had in your realm, so you assumed it was demonus. Nervously watching the others take their glasses, you decided to follow suit, grasping the fragile object with your shaking hands.

As you watched the cloudy white fluid sloshing around, a jarring, ominous feeling swept over you. Everything inside you screamed to put the drink aside, not to consume it, but you ignored your instinct, attributing it to you simply being hyper-vigilant and nervous. You bit the bullet and brought it to your lips, tilting it back and gulping it down in one go before placing it on the wooden surface. Embarrassment burned on your cheeks once you saw everybody was drinking theirs slowly. Even so, you were unable to dwell on that further once the flavor hit you and you barely managed to avoid grimacing; it was pleasantly sweet at first, though eventually there came a nauseating aftertaste burning in your throat. It made your eyes water and you rapidly blinked, trying to rid yourself of the tears. Out of nowhere, a terrifying thought popped into your head: what if your drink had been poisoned? As abruptly as this notion had crossed your mind, you quickly shook it off when, after a bit, the taste dissipated. Who would be so bold to try to poison you, the prized human exchange student, at an event hosted by Lord Diavolo himself while you were quite literally sitting next to him?

Exhaling a shaky breath, you focused on the prince beside you who started addressing the guests with a speech. You were unable to understand his words; a loud rushing in your ears drowned all the noises out and your pulse was thumping in your throat. Confused by the abrupt onset of physical symptoms of anxiety, you took slow, deep breaths, knowing it would be over sooner or later. You nodded slightly whenever it seemed appropriate based on Lord Diavolo's body language and whatever snippets of sentences you picked up on to look like you were listening. It took a while, but when he was finally done, he smiled at you and you reciprocated, even if you weren’t sure exactly how forced it looked. He stood up along with everyone else, the attendees gradually mingling with each other again. It was obvious what was going to happen now; he would begin introducing you to the various important people of this realm. Anxiously, you rose as well, a wave of heat coursing through your body as you did so, feeling your legs wobble under your weight and your heart rate spiking. Looking around yourself, you noticed that your vision was hazy, yet you could still feel demons staring at you and hear their snickering. Turning back towards Lord Diavolo who was standing in front of you, you attempted to make out what he was saying; your efforts, however, were fruitless.

“Fresh air”, you managed to choke out, “I’ll get some fresh air.”

With that you spun on your heel, leaving the hall and ignoring all the voices surrounding you that were increasing in volume, but remained abstruse and unintelligible to you. All of a sudden, a person blocked your path and you were able to hazily make out red eyes, narrowing dangerously at you. Disregarding their presence completely, you pushed past them, continuing your way out. By the time you were alone, in a quiet hallway, you were wondering how you had been able to walk at all, your knees threatening to buckle at any moment. Still, you moved on, steadying yourself against the walls with one arm. The contrasting silence made you more aware of how noisy the whirring in your ears was, and how ragged your breathing had become as the heat in your body intensified. Head spinning, you stumbled through the hallways, having no idea where you were; you could have been in the castle’s dungeons for all you knew.

Despite the fog in your mind, you began to realize this was not anxiety; it had to be something entirely different. You faintly remembered the drink you had been served earlier - had it been just a few minutes since then or hours? Did someone actually poison you?

Before you could ponder on that question any further, pain exploded in your torso, making you clutch your chest and sending you falling to the ground. Unable to get up or even call for help, you could only clench your teeth while your breaths came in bursts, tears pooling in your eyes. The floor underneath you was blissfully cold as you ended up lying motionless on your side, almost paralyzed by the pain.

After some time, black dress shoes appeared in your view; their wearer quickly knelt next to you, and a gloved hand reached out towards you. When you let out a startled yelp, it temporarily paused in the air, then resumed its movements. The muddled shushing sounds did nothing to ease your fear, and the two fingers pressing against your neck didn’t either. Your pulse was pounding beneath the warm leather of the gloves and you could hear indistinct words, loosely resembling curses. The hand disappeared for a moment before it gently nudged your shoulder, coaxing you into rolling on your back. Someone was hovering over you, but all you could make out was the blurry silhouette of what you assumed must have been a demon. Whether they were here to finish their job or not, you did not know, and you were too weak to defend yourself.

Suddenly, the fingers - now bare - brushed over your face, the touch cool on your heated cheeks. Not able to stop yourself you whined, pushing up into the hand, not caring about the potential intentions they had. Soon, a second hand joined, mirroring the actions of the other, providing you with relief. However, it was short-lived; murmured, unfamiliar words that resonated with power filled your ears, and a strange pulling sensation emanated from the fingers on you. It was as if, somehow, it was reaching into your body, your soul, searching for something. You felt like your insides were being set on fire and it was trying to eat its way out of you, breaching through each and every cell. All you could do was cry out and sob, hot tears scorching your skin. The person wiped away the incessant tears, but they didn’t cease what they were doing, and you were certain that they truly were there to kill you.

Slowly, your vision became less blurred and you were able to make out a vaguely familiar face gazing down at you, red eyes that had glared at you with discontent previously were now a mix of concern and anger.

“… L-Lu… cifer…?” you managed to slur, tongue heavy in your mouth and pain clawing relentlessly at you. The demon you presumed to be Lucifer responded, but you were unable to comprehend even a single word.

“S-stop, please, please m-make it stop,” you pleaded with him while you were gasping for air. He held your gaze as you begged for mercy and the intensity in his demeanor seemed to subside. The grip on your cheeks softened and the overwhelming sensations eased. Your sight and hearing cleared further and eventually, you identified Lucifer to be the one kneeling by your side. Before you could say anything, however, a hand moved from your cheek to your brow, covering your eyes as well.

“Sleep,” was the first thing you were able to hear - and also the last, then you were plunged into darkness.

As you came to, you found yourself lying on a soft surface, slightly propped up, and a light fabric was draped over your body. Gradually, you regained awareness of your surroundings; you could feel the way your clothes were clinging to you, and just how drained you were. Some distance away, there were hushed voices, seemingly arguing with one another, and you could make out a couple of fragmented sentences from one person.

“… all due respect, my lord… warned you… you were naive to… the human… everything at risk… lucky that nothing…”

You blinked your eyes open, taking in the room blearily before your gaze landed on two people - a guilty-looking Lord Diavolo and an angry Lucifer. And as if the latter had a sixth sense, his head immediately snapped towards you and the argument ceased. The men promptly strode over to you, Lucifer sitting on the chair right next to the bed you were resting on, while Lord Diavolo stood in the background, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Lucifer's hand grazed over your forehead, brushing strands of hair that were sticking to the skin aside, feeling the lingering heat radiating off you. His fingers then went to your neck, checking your pulse once more. It was eerily silent as he attentively assessed your condition, and you felt awfully tired. Your body was aching; all you wanted was to return to blissful unconsciousness. But as soon as you closed your eyes, fingertips tapped insistently on your cheek until you opened them again with a groan.

“You must stay awake for now,” Lucifer asserted firmly. “Tell me, how are you feeling?”

“I'm alive,” you muttered hoarsely. He let out a long-suffering sigh at that while Lord Diavolo tensed up even more.

“Evidently, you are well enough to joke around. I suppose that is a good sign. Nevertheless - and I can not overemphasize this - you did nearly die. Consider yourself lucky that I found you when I did. A few minutes later and you would have succumbed to the poison.”

Reclining in the chair, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and fixed you with an appraising gaze. You attempted to sit up, but the pain shooting through you and Lucifer’s scowl made you lie back down. Finally, Lord Diavolo stepped closer to you and you observed his strained expression; you had never seen him like that before, and you almost felt bad about getting poisoned at his banquet.

“I’m terribly sorry that this has happened. Please accept my sincerest apologies and the assurance that nothing of this sort will ever occur again,” his voice sounded subdued and quiet.

“It’s not your fault, Lord Diavolo, you couldn’t have known.”

“He did know. I warned him that this could happen and yet, he refused to listen to me”, Lucifer huffed.

“Maybe because you always assume that the worst will happen, and then it never does. Well, this time it did, but-”

“I beg your pardon?” he halted your thoughtless retort with an indignant glare, making you shut up instantly. “As you should have noticed by now, not assuming that the worst could happen at all times is what will get you killed in the Devildom. I am merely trying to keep you alive, although you seem all but keen on seeking your death here with the amount of trouble you have managed to find yourself in since your arrival.”

Lucifer shook his head and sighed heavily before standing up.

“I have matters to attend to. Namely, finding the culprit”, he stated calmly as he walked towards the door. “Lord Diavolo, we will continue our conversation at a later time.”

With the Avatar of Pride out of the room, Lord Diavolo took the seat. His eyes were everywhere but on you while he was wringing his hands.

“Lord Dia-” you began, only to be interrupted by him.

“No. Please, just call me Diavolo,” he uttered, now looking at you. “I’ve put you in grievous danger because I believed no one would dare harm you on the castle’s premises. It was foolish of me to think that, and I must apologize for the distress I inadvertently caused you.”

“But you didn’t mean to, Diavolo. I’m not mad at you,” you explained and you tried sitting up again to be more at eye level with him. He quickly steadied you and helped you lean against the headboard. Pained whimpers bubbled in your throat and you clenched your jaw to suppress them as you shifted your position - you didn't want to make him feel even worse. However, it didn’t escape his notice and he sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a hold of your upper arms. His touch was cautious, as if he was scared of hurting you further. The prince looked at you for a moment before he moved his hands to your shoulders, his thumbs lightly stroking over them in a comforting manner.

“Seeing you like that… unconscious, barely holding onto life while Lucifer brought you back from the brink…” Diavolo finally said, his voice cracking.“It made me realize how frail you truly are. And… that I wish to get to know you properly. I don’t want to waste any more precious time, not when a human’s life is so short and delicate. And I promise you, from now on I will do better in ensuring your safety.”

The serious look on Diavolo's face was dizzying, so you simply nodded slowly. Just as he was about to speak again, Barbatos entered, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of tea.

“Ah. I see you have regained consciousness. How are you feeling?” asked the butler.

“I'm doing alright,” you replied easily. Diavolo tightened his grip on you a little, almost imperceptibly so, no doubt having recognized your lie. Giving you a lenient smile, Barbatos set the tray on the nightstand next to you.

“You will be alright. Eventually,” he spoke, his words heavy with meaning, before bowing and exiting the room, leaving you alone with Diavolo. With his hands still resting comfortingly on your shoulders, he frowned as he watched his butler leave.

Not wanting to further aggravate the ache that was plaguing your body, you suppressed the urge to shake your head. 51 weeks left. You just had to make it through 51 more weeks.

#jayden-writes #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer fanfiction #obey me diavolo fanfiction #obey me angst #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me whump #reader #gender neutral reader #no y/n #no gendered pronouns #gender neutral mc

[redlightspellsdaanger]

*new* Intimate Conversations (finale)

Title: Intimate Conversations

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x female character x Jenson Button

Rating: +18

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings/notes: Established relationship. Threesome. M/F/M

Summary: Threesomes mess up your relationship, they said.

A/N: Last chapter posted. Took a bit but we got there.

Link to the full fic on AO3 here.

"Looks like you could use a hand to take care of that, Seb."

There was no way Stella had heard that.

It had to be the foggy lust haze blurring sounds in her ears. But Jenson was most certainly shifting closer to Sebastian and reaching out, slowly enough that they could tell exactly what he was about to do.

Sebastian had frozen on his tracks, half sitting with a leg tucked under him, fleshy inner thigh fully laid out.

He made no move to stop Jenson.

Hyperaware, Stella followed how lube slicked fingers wrapped around her boyfriend's cock and slid along the shaft. Sebastian, too, watched, eyes wide like saucers, as the head appeared and disappeared from the inside of his closed fist. Jenson's fingers brushed under his balls and Sebastian inhaled sharply. His body stirred, of course, reacting to the stimulus.

"Is it alright like this?" Jenson whispered.

Stella was holding her breath. Sebastian lifted his chin, blinking in that slow manner of his. "I-I don't know what to tell you, man."

"Do you want me to stop?" And he followed that by thumbing the slit with particular care.

Sebastian's mouth formed a perfect "o", filled with pleasure. "Yes," he swallowed. "No. I-I don't know." At his side, the sheet was bunched up in his fist and he squirmed a little on the spot, as if he didn't know what to do with his legs. Jenson was grinning. "Maybe keep going. Keep going... you're not so bad at it," he added.

"Naturally talented is what they call it, mate," he teased. His grip seemed firmer, as he flicked his wrist, and the skin on skin sounds hit louder than they perhaps normally would. It was deliciously tantalising and Stella didn't trust herself to even wonder where that might lead. "Tell me how you like it, c'mon."

"I didn't expect I'd be needing to explain that to you," he breathed. He was nibbling on his bottom lip now.

Jenson released him - Sebastian's brow furrowing with clear disappointment - and his seductive eyes darted meaningfully to his own lap. "What if I told you I'd love it if you showed me?"

The two men were close enough that Jenson was within reach from his right hand. It was a challenge.

One that Sebastian would not turn down.

Sure enough, a few expectant moments later the German slowly made a move. It was such a striking image, seeing him stroking another man's cock. His hand seemed smaller, there was a degree of uncertainty, it was all so very different compared to how it went when he touched himself.

Tip of his tongue sticking out, Sebastian tilted his head to the side as he got accustomed to the sensation of pleasuring someone else that way, gradually displaying more confidence.

Stretching out their legs to sit more comfortably, they applied some lube at Jenson's suggestion before carrying on in a mutual exchange. Stella was gifted with a front row view to it all.

"You're telling me you've never done this, Seb?" Jenson sounded slightly breathless.

The reply came as a simple shake of head, Sebastian mouthing "no".

"With none of your karting buddies in a locker room? When you were the last ones around?"

"I don't know what it was like for you," he scoffed, "but everyone was always bigger and older than me. The kids, the sponsors..."

"I suppose it's never too late, is it?"

Sebastian appeared fascinated, watching as they wanked each other, his right arm and Jenson's left crossed over each other's laps. They had fallen into an easy rhythm, pretty much mirroring each other.

Stella giggled. "I think I found the next OnlyFans stars."

A small smile pulled at the corner of Sebastian's mouth; Jenson winked at her. "Oh, yeah? Why don't you come over here so you can get your share?"

She had no interest in changing the dynamics yet.

Sebastian shot a loaded glance at his fellow driver and Stella sensed something changing.

"Jenson, is it okay if I give you a blowjob?"

The blond's head snapped up. Sebastian was staring at him in a disarmed manner as if he had just offered him a lift to the circuit.

"D-did I hear that right? You're offering to- you want to suck me off?"

Sebastian went redder, a mix of coyness and naughtiness on the lopsided grin that formed. "Why not?" He glanced at Stella, then shrugged and withdrew from Jenson's lap. "I never tried it. And I mean, since we're here now. Obviously, if you don't mind. But I don't think you do."

"Oh, wow." Jenson was floored but the dark pupils did not conceal his primal reaction. "As if I'd ever say no to that. I think you're trying to kill me."

"No, not really, I hope I'm not that bad!" He joked. "So how do you wanna do this, how should we...?" And he gesticulated to the general area of the bed.

Moving aside immediately, Stella made room for Jenson, the British driver preparing to recline against the headboard, fluffing a pillow to stuff behind his back. Sebastian searched for Stella's hand, giving it a squeeze, and placed a kiss on her lips. He seemed a little anxious all of a sudden.

"What if I like it?"

"You say that as if it's a bad thing."

She sat comfortably beside Jenson, the temperature in the room rising steeply at the mere sight of Sebastian crawling all the way up from the end of the bed and then above him. Sitting on his heels for a moment, their limbs entwined, he focused on the generous erection resting on Jenson's belly as if he was assessing the task.

Without any warning, he grabbed him at the base and experimentally licked him up like an ice cream. Jenson responded with a mighty shudder and Stella heard him curse under his breath.

Sitting back up, Sebastian winced and cleared his throat. Stella immediately pipped in, "You get used to the taste."

"Right." He tucked the unruly locks of wavy hair behind his ears and grinned. "Any tips?"

"You know the drill," Jenson folded his tattooed arm under his head and spread wider on the mattress, making himself more accessible. "It can't really go wrong. Just do what feels good when you're on the receiving end, let's put it like that."

"Really careful with your teeth," Stella added, caressing his arm encouragingly. "And don't get too excited, don't take more than you think you can."

"Small mistake, big consequences, I get it." The permanent blush that had set on his cheeks made him incredibly boyish; the combination with his bright eyes was irresistible. "Maybe I should practise first. You have a banana? No?" He shook his head, amusing himself.

"You can practise all you want on me, Seb, I promise."

"Okay, no fruit. Just fruity." Sebastian leaned forward again, this time bracing himself on one elbow. Jenson twitched when he rested a hand on his hipbone. "Where the hell did you pull this from? Fuck, it's so big."

His tongue darted out. Slowly, it flattened over the tip, licking once. He wetted his lips then swirled his tongue around the head; and then he moved down to take him in his mouth. Stella watched the way his cheeks hollowed when he sucked. Jenson hissed, closing his eyes.

"Alright?" She asked Sebastian.

He drew back. "Yeah. Bit weird but I'm still drunk enough," he chuckled.

"Don't worry, just keep going..." Jenson gasped when he resumed. "A four time Formula 1 champion sucking my dick. God, in my wildest dreams. In my wildest dreams..."

Sebastian was giving it his full, undivided attention, just as he did with everything else in his life. With his lips stretched around the full width of Jenson's cock, his mouth glided up and down over the wetness, hand rubbing what he couldn't reach, ridiculous eyelashes laid against his cheeks. He looked up at Jenson to check his responses, a wisp of curly hair fallen in front of his eyes.

Watching her boyfriend staring squarely at another man while sucking him diligently might rank as the hottest thing Stella had ever witnessed in her entire life.

"Enjoying myself loads, Seb." Jenson's voice had mellowed into a lazy, sultry drawl and he massaged his shoulder fondly. "You look incredible doing this. Do you mind if I-" And he placed a hand on top of his head. There was no protest. "I refuse to believe this is your first time. I absolutely refuse to believe it. Stella, your boyfriend is a natural at giving head. You must know this." Sebastian averted his gaze and his ears were turning crimson.

"Of course he is, he's amazing in bed." Filled with silly pride, she snuggled to him and rubbed his back in appreciation. "He's good at everything."

She saw him swallowing and Jenson released a louder groan. "Oh, fuck, yes...oh, fuck, I'm gonna come so quick."

Jenson cupped the back of Sebastian's head and, together with Stella, stroked his shoulders, down his backside and thighs, everywhere they could reach. Stella pressed her thumbs to the dimples on the small of his back and proceeded to run her tongue up the deep ridge of his spine.

There was no denying it, he was definitely aroused.

"Don't worry, I'll help you feel good, love."

She grabbed him between his legs and he immediately moaned around Jenson. He was hard as a rock.

"Tell me what he's like, Stella." And she could hear Sebastian breathing harder. "How much have you really done?"

Pulling out and wiping at his mouth, Sebastian braced himself on both arms. "Just because I'm blowing you it doesn't mean you get to know everything."

"Oh, lord..." Jenson jerked, his nails digging on Sebastian's shoulder blade when he lowered his head and continued sucking him. "You love this, don't you? C'mon, don't think I can't tell. Don't think I didn't notice how much you liked what she did to you either. Before, when we were on the couch." There was a gagging noise from Sebastian and Jenson's muscles tightened up, his face contorting sharply. He was quickly pushing at the German's shoulder now. "Wait, wait. Stop for a moment. Please. Seb, you have to stop now."

A little dazed, Sebastian sat back up while Jenson removed himself from under him. He was all puffy and glossy pink lips and seemed confused at whether he'd done something very good or very bad. Stella decided clarifications were a waste of time and simply swerved his face towards hers. He returned the kiss with hunger and they were cupping each other's faces in an instant, his fingers knotting in her hair tightly.

She dipped her face to his collarbone to cover him in kisses, running her tongue along the dips and hollows and shapes of his upper body, sucking and nipping as she went along, aching for the taste of the sweat on his skin and the coarse texture of his chest hair on her face. Her hands ran up and down his torso and cupped his toned pectoral muscles. He always felt incredible under her touch, so strong yet vulnerable. He gasped against the side of her head when she tweaked his nipples.

The snap of a condom was followed by Jenson moving around on the mattress. He settled behind Sebastian, who quickly glanced one side to another before relaxing at his proximity. Nuzzling the side of his neck, he slid a hand around the German's waist to his front. Stella caught on to it and guided him down.

Sebastian surfaced from her kiss and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. "Fuck..." His voice sounded thicker, swamped in arousal. The moonlight coming in through the window pane fell on his eyes and eyelashes from the side in a flattering angle and the golden hairs on his stubble shone bright.

They wanked him together. Facing up, chest heaving with shallow pants, Sebastian seemed completely undone and she stroked his damp hair back, away from his forehead.

"Jenson," he called out.

"I'm here, tell me... tell me what you need."

Stella saw Jenson's buttocks contracting when he tilted forward in a fluid hip swivel. Sebastian's head lolled back to land on Jenson's shoulder, their host wrapping his free arm around his slim waist.

"Jenson... I need to think about that first, I'm sorry."

"I wasn't going to, I swear," he chuckled. "Certainly never without asking!"

"I know you weren't. I'm just saying in advance, I don't think I'm ready for more." Sebastian gazed up at Jenson. "But you can go back to what you were doing. It felt good."

Jenson's grin was feral and there was another roll of hips. "Is that so?"

"Oh..."

It was a mix of a chuckle and a breathy moan and his arm shot around Jenson's neck. Upright on his knees, back bowed in a perfect curve, thighs flexed and his cock proud and erect in Jenson's hand, he pushed back into the other man's crotch.

The bed was dipping where their knees were set wide apart for balance, the two nestled tightly and grinding together. That was when Stella had a glimpse of it - the tip of Jenson's cock peeking, snug in the middle of her boyfriend's pert buttocks.

She completely missed entirely what Jenson was whispering but Sebastian's fingers at the back of his head were desperate to grasp at something. Cupping the side of his face, Jenson pressed his lips on the corner of his mouth. Heads tilted, they drew closer.

It was clumsy. All tongue and teeth between harsh breaths and noses bumping, Jenson's palms splayed open over Sebastian's thighs, stroking him languorously as they kissed.

The air was saturated with sweat and humidity, the smell of torrid heat and sex everywhere. It dawned on Stella that she had retreated from the action entirely and she didn't care. She was mesmerised, committed to etch every second into her brain.

"Suck", Jenson instructed.

He had cupped Sebastian's jaw and his thumb had slipped in by the corner of his mouth. Blindly, Sebastian only closed his lips around his finger under the scorching gaze from Jenson. A drop of sweat ran down the Brit's sideburn.

"You make me wanna come all over you." Jenson growled, returning to his groin and teasing him with his fingertips. "Do you know... everytime we sprayed champagne on each other on the fucking podium, right there in front of everyone... I had this insane fantasy of locking you somewhere with me?"

Sebastian's eyes squeezed shut. "It's just... adrenaline."

"That's what you tell yourself?"

Sebastian grunted and Jenson shifted, as if looking for a different angle. They dropped forward on all fours on the bed.

"Like this?"

"Yeah...yeah..." Head bowed as Jenson humped him and wanked him with fast strokes at the same time, his body was taut as a wire.

"I'd be on my knees for you, Seb, anytime you wanted. Anywhere. You just had to ask."

His eyes were crinkled, his mouth wide open and gasping. His hand covered Jenson's.

"Why didn't you?"

His face scrunched up; Jenson growled into the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

One after the other they came, their joined hands dirty with pearly white fluid.

They collapsed on the bed next to each other.

***

Monte Carlo's old school glamour was special, Stella contemplated as she took another drag of her cigarette. There was some traffic noise in the distance, scattered voices, music travelling swiftly over the water and floating from various directions. Still riding the heatwave from their evening, she noted how the night too was warmer than usual for the season.

She heard the boys' voices at low volume when she left the bathroom earlier; they had a bottle of Johny Walker with them. She forced herself to leave the pair on their own and returned to the living room to pluck a much needed cigarette from her bag. She had an inkling they had some catching up to do.

Everything felt out of kilter, somehow.

It would happen sometimes, after such nights. And the previous couple of hours did feel as if she'd been high, chemicals pumping through her veins. The crash wasn't so bad as others she'd experienced in the past but this particular aftertaste represented a strange twist.

"Hey."

Equally stark naked, Sebastian rested his elbows on the balcony's balustrade by her side. She stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray she'd stolen from the table.

A finger poked her in the ribs and she bowed her head with a smile, pulling her long hair over one shoulder, before eyeing him from the side. He was already awaiting her gaze, with a smile of his own. They chuckled at the same time.

"You okay?" She cosied up to him and his arm wrapped around her. A kiss on the top of her head brought a contented sigh.

"That was wild."

"You didn't actually believe you'd be watching from the sidelines all night, alone?" She snorted. "I know you better than that, love."

"No, but I-I didn't think it would get... that far. You get carried away."

She muffled another giggle against his collarbone. "Nothing wrong with that."

"Hmm."

"Oh. You're full of regrets already."

"No. Did you have fun?" He asked and she nodded emphatically, grinning at him. "Got what you wanted?"

"Way more than I expected." She dropped a butterfly kiss on his shoulder and he rubbed her arm. She sighed, playing with her fingernails. "I think- remember what you said about keeping some things to us?" She felt him nodding. "I think that... I mean, this is great. Doing all this. It's insane, it's so fucking good. And then there's that insane afterglow and it hits you strong. Yeah. And I... it's odd but, now it also feels-"

Stella didn't know how to explain this foreign emotion. It didn't make a whole lot of sense. She was full and empty; satisfied yet wanting more; feeling luckier than ever and deeply relieved Jenson was happily married.

"Yeah. A bit weird, no?" He supplied, softly.

"Yeah."

The lights at the port flickered. Parties hosted at yachts would be in full swing, clubs were packed. All because of the famous race that took over the principality every year without fail.

"I don't regret this at all," Sebastian stated. "I tried something new, I'm happy that I did it and I wanna do more of that. Not necessarily this, you know," he chuckled, gesturing in a circle as if to encompass them and the house. "I'm not so sure this is something I wanna repeat in the future. But there are many, many other things in life I want to try and find out. Stella, I-" he sighed. "I haven't decided about next season. There's so much I want to do. I want to be there for my kids. I want to be there for you. I don't want you to be the one flying across the world all the time to be with us and I don't want you to sacrifice your career and your dreams so that we can be together. You deserve to have your life too."

She took a deep breath. "No. Sebastian. No. I stand by what I said before. And the time before that. Your choice cannot be based on what you think I need."

"It doesn't work like that. You deserve someone who gives you their time and attention."

"You already do that," she turned in his arms to face him. "I'm with you because I love you, just the way you are. No one else in this world could possibly give me more so stop creating other narratives. Do what makes you happier. You only get one life and racing is something you can only do now. What makes you happy, makes me happy."

"Aww." There was a tender smile playing on his lips and he ran a finger down her nose. "I know. And I love you for that. Which is why I don't want to make the same mistakes."

Her throat turned very dry and she couldn't find fitting words to reply to that.

"Now I'm all sad again that I won't see you for a month," he added, before pulling her in a hug.

To that she could relate. They believed at some point that saying goodbye would become easier, simply because it would be routine and they would get used to it; on the contrary, it seemed to become harder every time.

"Jenson said we're welcome to stay, we can take one of the guest rooms," he said in her ear.

"You wanna stay?"

"As you prefer." A pause. "How awkward would it be tomorrow?"

"For me? Not much." She let out a laugh and he retaliated with a pinch on her side, making her yelp. "He was so nice. A lot of blokes like him are absolute arseholes in bed, but he was not." Sebastian replied with a non-committal hum. "Did you have a nice chat?" She scratched at the centre of his chest with a fingernail and he turned bright red. "Okay, I swear I'll stop teasing. At some point. And, for the record, you don't have to tell me anything you're not comfortable with."

"Ah but that's silly, how can I not be comfortable with you?"

"Maybe you need to work it out in your head first."

He blinked, as if the idea hadn't occurred to him.

"Let's go back in," she grabbed the ashtray. "Fuck this, I need to stop smoking." She was walking away from the balustrade but Sebastian held her back by her hand.

"Was he better?"

It caught her off guard. Could be a joke but she wasn't sure. She replied with an eyeroll. "Please, as if you don't know the answer to that."

A big grin and he pushed himself from the wall. He spooned her and whispered in her ear, "I agree."

He kissed her cheek and they went back in, sliding the balcony door closed behind them.

The End

#sebastianvettel #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #jenson button #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel fanfiction #sebastian vettel #intimate conversations

[anitalenia]

━━━ 𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒐 𝒅𝒖𝒎 𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒔 ₓ˚. ୭

━━ 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔 / 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔. the frontier boys as random tropes. ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ part two | part three | part four

˖ ࣪⭑ pairing: Pope, Ironhead, Ben, Catfish x fem!Reader

˖ ࣪⭑ content includes: male masturbation, religious themes, pussy eating, blowjobs and balls, bros before hoes, perverted staring, female masturbation, age gaps, dark-ish content, daddy kink mentioned, corruption kink, innocent!reader, mention of shower sex

˖ ࣪⭑ authors note: not really edited just wrote words. Idk anything about religion, or churches, or priests but I like the idea of wanting something you can’t have 🫦

LINKS ੈ♡˳·˖✶ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 | 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒔

━━ SANTIAGO ‘POPE’ GARCIA ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭, blasphemy, shame and desire

he stared at you everyday when you’d come in and volunteer to read to the kids. He’d be the first to smile and welcome you into the cathedral, salt and pepper hair in neat waves with a handsome, polite smile on his face as he’d walk you towards the children’s school with his hand on the small of your back.

He’d listen to you when you talked to him about your morning with a smile glowing on your face, then wished you well and to have a good day like the good man he was, the pillar of the community and an example to all. It was just a façade, a mask to fool the man he vowed his chastity to.

He didn’t tell you how his eyes would graze over your body at the curves of your hips and roundness of your breasts in those cute dresses you’d prance around in, completely oblivious and naive to the way his eyes would darken and his head would be filled of all the sinful things he’d do to you if you’d let him.

He was disgusted with himself as he’d take his hard cock out from the constraints of his black slacks in the emptiness of his office, under the watchful eyes of God as he’d stroke his dick at the image of you on your knees for him under this very desk. He’d picture how you looked on the floor as he ruined your sweet innocence, begging him for his cock and staring up at him with tears welling in those seductive eyes of yours. His cock would be deep in your throat as you gagged around him, pleading him to slow down but lapping his cum up like he was your messiah.

He’d cum all over his hand with a groan, his clerical collar burning into his neck as the cross of Jesus stared at him from the back wall mockingly. He’d picture wiping his cum off your chest or face, seeing your puffy lips wrap around his tip and swallow everything he’d give you. You were so sweet, so naive, so gullible; he wondered if you even knew how to properly suck a cock.

When he was done, he’d clean up and walk into the school room as you finished up reading to the children, greeting the parents and smiling at all the kids who looked up at him in awe. He’d smile that polite smile, wave that polite wave, the people none the wiser to what their esteemed Priest had just been doing.

He’d walk towards you when you’d finish and help you pack up your things, his eyes lingering on your cleavage and the clear gloss on your lips. He’d use the same hand he used to yank his cock and put it on your arm, insisting he’d carry your bag for you.

He was such a gentleman, you’d think as he’d lead you to the doors, ignorant to the way he stared at you with predatory eyes, imagining what it’d be like if he took you against the wall with your tits in his mouth, sweeter than the blood of Christ. He knew it was wrong, hated himself for it, unable to stop himself from submitting to your temptation every night in his bed, when he’d fuck his fist some more at the thought of you.

He’d pray for forgiveness every night when he’d clean up, but he knew the delectable shadow of sin had already possessed him long ago, and no amount of prayer would ever free him from the lustful clutches the devil had him in.

One day, he promised he was going to ruin that tight pussy of yours and show you just how devilish he could be.

━━ WILLIAM ‘IRONHEAD’ MILLER ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝, clenched fists, burning want

Will always considered himself a strong man; untethered to minuscule emotions like lust and love that corrupted so many of the men around him. It wasn’t his job to care, to coddle and love you like he was something more than what he was supposed to be.

He was the best of the best, strong and silent, dangerous and cunning. He was all rugged edges and sharp corners, a threatening shadow looming over your shoulder that scared off anything that might’ve looked your way. He stayed by your side and didn’t encourage any kind of conversation or connection, resilient in his role… always able to lock away those dark thoughts of his that would drift into his mind when you’d wear those little shorts of yours to bed. He could hide the arousal on his face when you’d bend over to pick up something you dropped, mask the jealousy he’d feel when another man would dare talk to you. It was easy for him to hide that part of himself, trained to disguise his true nature.

That was until one night when he saw that your bathroom door wasn’t closed all the way during his nightly rotation. You were supposed to be sleeping, but here you were, and there he was.

He told himself to walk away, to stay strong, ignore the blurred form of your naked silhouette behind the shower door as you bathed yourself. Yes, Will was a strong man but even the strongest flesh had its venom; all the dark feelings he’d built up during these last months with you stirring his cock in his pants as he lingered by the doorway like some perverted child.

He watched as you turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, dark blue eyes like silent storms running over every single inch of exposed wet skin. His jaw was firm, hands clenched into tight fists as his cock hardened in his pants, imagining fucking you so hard into the shower wall the tile cracked.

He watched from his place in the dark as you dried yourself off, eyes glued to the fat of your ass and the perkiness of your tits as you ran the pink towel over your skin. He imagined those pretty tits between his teeth, covered in purple bruises as you moaned out his name to all the other guards posted outside your door to let them know who you really belonged to.

He was angry with himself for being so weak, unable to move away from the door like you had bewitched him with your very existence, a siren luring the sailor into her treacherous depths. He was weak willed and just dumb enough to follow your song, let your lips bury his head under water and drown him down below, so long as he was with you.

You were unaware of this, slipping your pajamas on and rubbing lotion on your skin like you weren’t being hunted like a lost lamb who had wandered into the wrong forest. Will could feel his chest ache and arms twitch to touch you, to pound into that cute pussy of yours and let out all the tension he’d developed in his muscles because of you.

Instead, Will cocked his head and ran his eyes over your form one last time, then turned his head and continued on his way with his nails digging into his palms. His cock semi hard in his pants as he walked down the hall for another rotation, knowing he wasn’t strong enough to deny you if he had stayed another second.

He grind his teeth, furious eyes observing the darkness of the large home you lived in for anything that might be lurking within it, eager to fight out his frustration on someone and beat them bloody. At least the pain could distract him from the longing in his chest, remind of who he was and not who he wanted to be.

After a while he finally relaxed his hands, but he wasn’t sure if he would be strong enough to walk away from you the next time, for even the devil had crumbled for his queen.

━━ BENJAMIN MILLER ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, lingering glances, yearning hearts

you always noticed him around the house during the weekends he was supposed to be away, watching tv when you’d make dinner, or rummaging through the fridge in the kitchen when you’d want a late night snack. He’d bump into your shoulder in the darkness of the night, wear his sweatpants low on his hips or just be coming out of the shower when you’d knock on the door.

You didn’t think much of it, always naive to the woes of romance and the idea of seduction. He was just your best friends brother, the cute guy with the big smile and the boy you’ve been forbidden to date; the man who didn’t even really care for you besides polite interaction.

Benny didn’t care about any of that, bold in his advances and flirty with his words, questioning your dates and always hugging you longer than he should. He was a playboy, brought girls home that suspiciously looked a lot like you, but they could never compare. He’d always imagine it was your pussy he was balls deep in, imagine it was your moans in his ear and your lips around his cock. It was the only way he was ever able to cum.

He was told very strictly to leave you alone, to not interfere with family and friend affairs and blur the line between friend or lover. But ever since his brother brought you home that first day he was amazed Will hadn’t fucked you himself, with your bouncy tits and too tight shirts you’d dance around the house in.

You were up late at night again when he walked past his brothers room to the bathroom, Will sleeping on the couch as he was adamantly a gentleman. He was disappointed, expecting you to be in the kitchen like you always were, expecting to see you eating a Twinkie as you sat on the counter. But his disappointment didn’t last long when he heard a faint noise, very whiny and quiet, sound from behind the door as he found himself lingering by it.

He furrowed his brows, leaning closer to where the door met the frame to be able to hear your better. Then, he heard it again. A breathy gasp, a low moan, a needy whisper of his name. He licked his lips at the realization of what you were doing, his stomach constricting as his cock jumped in his sweatpants, shirtless as always.

He listened as you moaned and whined, muffled behind your hand but loud enough for him to hear, picturing the way your fingers looked as you fucked your own hole, the way you’d lick your own cream off your fingers and pull at your nipples. He put his head on the doorway as his body yearned to open the door, hand reaching down and rubbing the bulge of his heavy cock from above his clothes.

You sounded so sweet, so whiny and breathless; he could only imagine the way your pussy would taste on his tongue as he ate you out on Will’s bed, had you squirt on his sheets as a wonderful way of getting back at his brothers dumb rule. He heard another gasp of his name escape your pink lips, his balls tight in his pants as he heard a pained moan, knowing you just came on your own palm at the thought of his cock.

Benny clenched his jaw, aroused and dick throbbing in his pants as he heard you approaching the door to go wash yourself off. He managed to back away, walking into his own room and laying on his bed, quickly whipping his cock out and jerking it off at the memory of your moans.

He didn’t know when, but one of these days his want for you was going to over power his love of his brother, and was going to fuck you into Will’s mattress with your head stuffed into the pillow.

But for now, he had his cock and his fist, and that would have to do until then.

━━ FRANCISCO ‘CATFISH’ MORALES ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐝𝐚𝐝’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, cherry lipgloss, scandalous thoughts

Your lips wrapped around the red lollipop almost seductively, wrapping your tongue around it as the sweet cherry flavor burst on your tongue. You were unaware of his eyes on you, enjoying the silence of your little picnic table in the corner as the group of family and close friends huddled around the burgers and buns your father had grilled.

Frank couldn’t help but stare at you, isolated from everybody in your red summer dress, standing out in the greenery that surrounded you. He knew this was way fucking wrong, having watched you grown up from a spoiled teenager to a bratty adult, and my, what a woman you’ve become. Full breasts bulging out of the tank tops you’d wear around him, comfortable enough to not notice his mature lingering eyes on your younger body, or at least too stupid to notice.

He was sweet and funny, always made you laugh and smile and even taught you how to drive, but he couldn’t help but look at you as more than a daughter of a friend. He saw you as the woman you were and admired you just as such.

He did feel guilty at the way his cock would stir in his pants when you’d reach up and hug him, your breasts smushing in his chest as your pink, glossy lips would leave a faint sparkly imprint on his cheek. He imagined tasting that cherry lipgloss of yours on his tongue as he’d kiss you, pin you against a tree with your father, his best friend, feet away grilling a bbq for his birthday.

Your father was all wrong, for Frank did not want burgers or presents, he wanted your tight little pussy spread on his bed with a red bow around it, gaping and wet, waiting for his experienced mouth and his thick cock. He wanted your small body bent in every way he’d put you in, choking on his balls and eager to please him.

Your lips wrapped around the lollipop again and he couldn’t stomach anymore food, hungry for you instead as the image of your glossy lips leaving sparkly marks along the length of his dick fogged his mind like a cloud of sin, tempting him ever so slowly. He was hard in his jeans as he took a plate of burgers from your father, laughing and smiling and putting on the show he starred in.

He felt almost pitiful for your father, oblivious to the way his best friend fantasized about fucking his daughter under the very roof of the house he got another mortgage on. His mouth was dry as he swallowed, taking a seat at another table with a perfect view of your legs. He could see the faint patch of white panties you wore when you shifted in your seat just the right way, his cock straining against his jeans and he hoped nobody could see.

He took a bite of his burger, glad he was sitting down, because otherwise he’d walk over to you and drag you into the depths of the trees, have you give him his present as he showed you who your daddy really was.

thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. also, the title is a latin phrase that means, ‘so long as you love me’, for anyone who was curious. and always remember that you’re loved and important <;3

#˖⁺. 𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙖 .𖥔 ݁ #santiago garcia fanfic #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #benny miller #benny miller x reader #william ironhead miller #william miller x reader #will ironhead miller #william miller #will miller x reader #frank morales #frank morales x reader

[selkiewife]

TYRION APPRECIATION MONTH

Day 3: Childhood trauma/abuse/relationship with disability

I was thinking about how often Tyrion refers to himself as "waddling" in his POV chapters. It comes from the widespread communal ableism all around him- that literally started the day he was born. As Oberyn Martell tells him:

"We were in Oldtown at your birth, and all the city talked of was the monster that had been born to the King's Hand, and what such an omen might foretell for the realm."

~ A Storm of Swords, Tyrion V

But it is also directly linked to the way his father has emotionally and verbally abused him for having a disability:

Lord Tywin did not stir from his chair, but he did give his dwarf son a long, searching look. "I see that the rumors of your demise were unfounded."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Father," Tyrion said. "No need to leap up and embrace me, I wouldn't want you to strain yourself." He crossed the room to their table, acutely conscious of the way his stunted legs made him waddle with every step. Whenever his father's eyes were on him, he became uncomfortably aware of all his deformities and shortcomings.

~ A Storm of Swords, Tyrion VII

And then later we have this horrible exchange from Tywin:

"You, who killed your mother to come into the world? You are an ill-made, devious, disobedient, spiteful little creature full of envy, lust, and low cunning. Men's laws give you the right to bear my name and display my colors, since I cannot prove that you are not mine. To teach me humility, the gods have condemned me to watch you waddle about wearing that proud lion that was my father's sigil and his father's before him."

~ A Storm of Swords, Tyrion I

Besides the disturbing fact that Tywin has been blaming Tyrion for his mother's death his entire life, he also goes that extra mile in his cruelty by mocking the way that Tyrion walks. What is so sad about this- well other than absolutely everything about it- is that other characters describe Tyrion's walk as "waddling" in their POVs as well, but none more than Tyrion himself. It is a little thing but it shows how deeply he has internalized his father's hatred abuse, and ableism.

Obviously there is much much more of Tywin's abuse that Tyrion has internalized. But this was something I noticed recently and thought was significant- especially since language, words and description is so important to Tyrion and crucial to the the way protects and empowers himself.

#tyrionmonth2022 #tyrion lannister #tywin lannister #canontyrion #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #tyrion meta #tw ableism. #tw ablelist language. #tw emotional abuse. #tw verbal abuse.

[howardlinkedin]

Debriefing (And Other Bad Jokes) Part 4

Part 3 here: x

Next, Part 5: http://howardlinkedin.tumblr.com/post/168953427738/debriefing-and-other-bad-jokes-part-5

Summary: Slightly less ridiculous chapter about museum heists, unless your name is Howard Link, in which everything is still ridiculous, while Allen asks the Important Questions.

There are only three people who know the entire story of how Yuu Kanda went from absolutely loathing Allen Walker to something like positive, relationship affirming emotions. (No one can  make Kanda admit things like “love” or “romance,” even if they threatened death. Honestly, even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to succeed, seeing as the man would break the idiot who dared make threats in the first place inches away from death’s door.)

First there was the Bookman- which should be obvious given his skill set. The redhead even bragged about knowing the two were bound to become...whatever they were long before they even knew it. This bragging usually got a sword uncomfortably close to his crotch.

Next was Lenalee, who was Allen’s best friend and confidant. She actually had a front row seat to the drama that was Kanda’s and Allen’s relationship coming to a head. This was something she often reminded Allen when he was being particularly annoying, due to the fact that she had recorded most of it on her phone, and she was not afraid to use it.

Last, and probably the most baffling, was Johnny Gill. Baffling, because the forensic examiner hardly even made an appearance at the Department, choosing to spend his time at the Crime Labs. Lenalee and Lavi often wondered how the smaller man fit into this equation, since he was never around when the officers in question usually interacted.

Argued.

Violently flirted.

Everyone else working in or associated with the Black Order Police Department were simply secondhand observers. Many got whiplash when word actually got out that Kanda and Walker were A Thing.

---

Whatever Thing the two decided to be, was the question of the century. Only Allen and Kanda knew what, exactly, they were to each other, but it was there and sometimes it was less violent and more on the sweet side.

If you squint.

---

Noise Marie was the Order’s top surveillance specialist. At every stakeout, he was there, hidden away in a van, abandon building or any other nondescript location to listen in on the goings on with the officers under his care to watch.

Or rather, not so much watch.

Noise, legally blind that he was, could only listen. Which made his name rather ironic, which he was very well aware of, thank you very much.

The lack of proper sight never stopped him from being the best at what he does, however. No one questioned how his unique skill set works, but altogether accepted at the Order regardless.

So when the tell-tale buzz of the speakers tickled in, he responded immediately.

“This is Marie.”

“Allen here-” (In the background, Noise could hear the new Detective Inspector chide. “Walker, don’t give your name out in the middle of a job!”  The chiding was moot considering Link just also have out the rest of the officer’s name.

“Okay fine, Eagle One-” “I’m Eagle One.” Kanda grunted over his own communication. “Darling, only when I let you.”)

“I’m listening.” Marie tried not to sound amused. It was hard, but he was a professional and this was a job.

A high stakes job.

---

Once again, Link was able to actually do his job, and this time it looked more promising to be solved than the current murder case.

He listened and traded notes with Inspector Galmar, who had, up until now, been the only detective assigned to the Phantom G case.

(At the debriefing, Allen had commented that it was a rather cute name for a thief. Allen also though Kanda was cute when on the verge of homicide, so Link decided the officer’s opinion of anything was to be mad ravings of a crazy man.)

“And you say that somehow, anyone arrested during this case has been framed?” Link flipped through the stack of prints of the literal dozen fingerprints uncovered from every scene of the crime.

Galmar sighed heavily. “Yes, the problem we don’t know how or have any evidence besides obvious intuition. Unfortunately, the law can’t let anyone free from arrest just on those grounds.”

Unfortunate indeed, considering that all who were arrested claimed to never have been near the areas where valuables have been stolen. But, as far as the law was concerned, fingerprints don’t lie.

“So.” Walker, who had been a silent observer, until now, leeched himself at Link’s side and stared at the images. “This kid is able to lift copies of multiple prints from several officer, who happen to always be on site during a stake out, plant them and then make off with the loot?”

Link’s brow ticked at the loss of his personal space and elbowed the officer away. “Walker, let me work.”

He paused, narrowing in on the other’s comment. “You said ‘kid.’”

Allen grinned like a cheshire. “I did.” “And why,” Link’s suspicion once again rising. “Do you believe the thief is a kid? Clearly this level of skill is not something a mere child could do.”

Shrugging, Allen had the gall to look innocent and doe eyed. “No reason.”

“Walker.”

“Howard.”

Howard Link decided then and there he needed to make a doctors appointment for the amount of migraines he continued to suffer.

---

“I thought you were supposed to casing the layout of the museum.”

“I did.” Allen chirped. The Detective Inspector pinched the bridge of his nose. “Walker, you literally have been standing behind me this entire time. What part of that is casing anything?” Phantom G, as the acclaimed thief signed their M.O as, was most often known by the many notices they leave announcing their future plans of theft. The most frustrating aspect of their taunts was that they always delivered them to the scene where they threaten to loot, and always naming said object they are wanting to steal.

No matter the security, the Phantom always, always got away with it. With false fingerprints left behind, the accused unconscious with the very same mask as the Phantom over their face.

It was a wonder the entire team working on the case thus far hadn’t quit out of frustration.

Especially considering how utterly ridiculous the masks were. What with the bright, flashy neon yellow.

This time, the threat was at the local museum, which happened to house a very expensive and very historical crown.

“I saw the glass case where the crown was.” Came Allen’s cheeky reply, as though that was all he needed to see.

And maybe it was? Because Link was beginning to believe that despite all of Walker’s oddities and nuances, they always worked.

---

Link took a glance around the open space of the museum. “Where is Officer Kanda?”

Allen waved a hand as if to portray ‘don’t worry!’

“He’s doing a better job than I am at canvasing the entire area.”

Because that’s what Kandas do, apparently. And Allens just pester and waste time around actual hard working investigators.

---

“Anyway,” Allen continued over the communication to Marie. “Quick question, and it’s very important that you answer.” “Yes?” Noise turned a dial at his soundstation, making the frequencies of the white noise in the area more clear.

“What are you getting me for my birthday?”

(“WALKER.”

The surveillance specialist could hear Kanda sigh over the detectives reprimand.)

“Because I’ve been thinking of a hat. A large fluffy warm hat. Maybe a matching scarf.”

(“Walker, we are WORKING now is not the time to-”

“Jesus Christ shut up, both of you.”)

This is when the museum alarms are set off.

---

Arrested was yet another framed officer, with the crown missing and Officer Allen Walker-

Well. He was engaging in an actual chase with the presumed true thief.

On the rooftops.

Link had to at least admit that the other man was dedicated to his job.

---

The thief- Phantom G, in all their neon glory, hopped, jumped and mauvered the rooftops with the skill only someone who understand the layout could accomplish.

“Hey, you know maybe bright colors weren’t the best idea in this situation.”

Unless your name is Allen Walker, in which case he somehow managed the ability to maneuver just as, if not more, fluid after the thief and the crown.

Said thief gasped, and nearly tripped when the officer swung from a railing and landed just in front of them. They made an attempt to dash to the right, but Allen, quick as he was, flashed the crown at the Phantom’s face.

Well, assumed face anyway. It was hard to tell, what with the huge mask and all.

“Sorry, but this is mine now.”

“WALKER! You can’t keep stolen property!” Link chose that moment to leap to the roof also.

Phantom G took the momentary distraction of the Detective to leap from the side of the building and slide down the emergency fire exit.

Allen put the crown on his head and followed suit, all smiles.

And Link? Well Link followed after because Walker You Can’t Put That on your Head It’s Valuable!

---

Once on ground, the thief shot their arm out and Allen yanked the Detective with him to slide down the ally and out of the way.

Inspector Howard Link did not squeak, he most certainly did not, no matter what Officer Allen Walker says. (Noise Marie caught it all on tape, and he is very sorry for the man’s dignity and pride.)

The wall where they had landed was sliced through with thin threads, almost invisible if not for the moonlight.

Allen’s smile dropped off his face.

“You know, a lot of people just had their lives ruined by you. Do you really want to add manslaughter to the list?” “Shut up!” Finally, the thief spoke. They sounded young, too young.

Link didn’t have time to analyze further, and took the moment to dash out and kick their legs from under them and slapped one wrist with handcuffs. They yelled in surprise.

“Link! Move!”

The detective barely had time to flinch away before the same threads as before shot from the Phantom’s free hand and into Link’s shoulder.

With a grunt, the blonde rolled away, holding the wound to stave the bleeding. The threads were very sharp indeed.

Suddenly, the threads were sliced through, and Kanda shot out like a bullet from seemingly nowhere at the thief. “If you want to play like an adult, then play with me.”

The other man had a grin what Link could only describe as maniacal.

The thief, no the kid, which was what they could only be, because they were too small and wiry to have been an adult, and their voice too, too young, let out a sudden screech in fear at the swordsman. They leapt up and clambered over window sills in an attempt to escape.

Their retreat was cut short when Kanda sliced the wall nearest their hand, impaling his sword clean through. “You really should rethink your actions right now.” The officer was as serious as they ever were, and the warning in their words were as sharp and dangerous as his sword.

The air was quiet for exactly two seconds before it was filled with sharp wailing. The Phantom Thief G slid down to the grown, heaving. The mask was becoming soaked with tears.

“Jesus Christ you’re loud.” Kanda complained, which was not really the time or place, but still altogether a very good observation.

The wailing and crying was indeed very loud and very shrill.

---

With the mask off, Phantom Thief G, as deduced by Allen earlier that day (and Link still demands to know how the officer figured that, much to his ever mounting frustration) a kid.

No more than nine years of age, identified by Marie as Timothy Hearst, was cuffed and placed into the awaiting police vehicle.

With Allen, who deemed it acceptable to coddle the criminal, and let himself be sobbed on in the back of the car.

“Walker, kid or not he’s still a-” “Shh Link, you’re scaring him.”

“NEED I REMIND YOU that he could have very well killed us, and managed to stab my arm.” The Detective hissed. His arm still hurt, mind. Miranda, who was also on standby, had wrapped it. The kid’s wailing only intensified. “I’m- I’M SORRY!!!” He bellowed.

“See, he’s sorry.” “Walker.”

Kanda ignored them all and snached the very expensive and valuable crown from his partner’s head and handed it over to Inspector Galmar. Allen ‘awed’ in disappointment.

Everything was too ridiculous anymore.

---

Timothy had cried himself to sleep in the Order’s jail cell. Wrapped in no less than three blankets and five downey pillows piled around him. 

No one commented on this.

In his office, Commissioner Lee read over Link’s report. “How could a child have this level of skill?” He inquired.

Allen, who commandeered the room’s only couch, piped up before the Inspector could respond, literally taking the words from his mouth. “He had help. No kid could ever pull this off without proper training.”

His silver eyes were far off, and Link didn’t like it. He also did not like how Walker obviously knew more than he let on.

Link was the detective, it was his job. Yet Officer Allen Walker was able to deduce just as fast and as much as he could.

“Training?” Still, he pressed on. Confrontations would happen later.

The white haired officer hummed, eyes flashing back to the present. “Yeah. Those needle threads aren’t something easily handled without being trained in them. No normal nine year old would ever have a working knowledge of them.”

“I see.” And Link did see. He also agreed. “I believe also that Hearst had help. To pre plan exactly who to frame and have them be an officer that would be stationed during each and every heist? There’s someone else working in the shadows.”

Commissioner Lee scowled at the thought of a kid having been wrapped up in this mess. It left a sour taste in his mouth. “Do we have any leads as to who, though, is the question.”

The Detective Inspector was at a loss there.

“Sheryl Kamelot.” Allen named, looking for all the world the most serious he has ever been. “This reeks of Noah, and Sheryl would be our best bet.”

Komui straighten at the names, and leaned on his elbows. “Explain Officer.” He demanded of his subordinate.

Allen also leaned forward, unconsciously flexing his scarred hand. “Sheryl’s pride in the Noah consists of finding kids who show talent, any talent really, and exploiting them in anyway.

Stealing, information gathering, murder - there’s no limit to what he’d train a child to do. My guess is that Timothy is rather new into the fold, which was why he was scared easily enough to surrender. Anyone worth their scuff in the Noah would have needed a lot more to put them into submission.”

Howard Link frowned, scowled, and tensed the longer Walker spoke. Because, how, how, how! How does the young officer know this? Where did he get this information? To have such an understanding of one of the Noah, was nothing short of terrifying.

Did he learn this during his arrest of Tyki Mikk? Or was it before during investigation? But, as far as Link knew, Walker was not assigned the Noah case first hand. That was General Cross Marian. Did Walker learn this from his mentor? Was Cross actually reporting directly to his adopted son, and both were keeping quiet?

Why wasn’t the Commissioner demanding these details?

There were too many questions surrounding Allen Walker, and Link despised the lack of answers.

---

Once away from the Commissioner’s office and steps down the hall, Link demanded his answers. “How? How do you have such knowledge?” His voice was thick with distrust and accusations that he hadn’t outright stated. The implication was still there, regardless. “And for that matter, how are you able to follow thieves across rooftops and spy those threads? You said it yourself it takes training. What are you hiding Allen Walker?”

They had both stopped their descent down the hall.

Contrary to their pause, Kanda was making his way to them, but by his movement he was in no hurry.

Allen only smiled that alarming and guileless smile of his that renders everyone around him defenseless but also paranoid at the same time. “Oh Link, you should have put the pieces together by now. You’ve read my file after all.”

If Link believed in in such things, he could have sworn the air turned chill and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

He couldn’t even deny it, not with Kanda now directly behind his partner, like the shadow he always was. Tucked at his arm was Walker’s file, which had been stolen from Link’s apartment nights before.

#ashlee writes #dgm #link ur in deep shit now boi #kind of #next time we meet more assholes and tim cries some more #allen to parent tim y2k #kanda is like lmao lets chase and scare children this is the most fun ive ever had YOLO #link is So Done #hey there marie HOW YOU DOIN BOY #allen walker #yuu kanda #howard link #timothy hearst #tbh I still dont know what ship to tag this as its all over the place #but its mainly Kanda/Allen #Yullen #with Link watching and lusting and WANTING NONE OF IT so he tells himself #sorry its been A While PEACE OUT NERDS

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

Pact Marks | All Brothers

Request: pact mark hc with the brothers?

Word Count: 1971 words

Page Count: 5.5 pages

A.N.: hope you guys enjoy this!

Tags: none :)

[ U N D A T E A B L E S ]

Lucifer

Lucifer would place his pact mark on the space where your neck meets your ear, somewhere modest and easy to hide, something you could show and hide as you pleased. Though you could hide it, it was in an obvious spot, fitting for the Avatar of Pride. When you summon him or speak with him through it the pact mark glows a deep blue.

If you wear your hair down, he will play with your hair before rubbing the mark gently, and if he is in an extra soft mood he'll give it a quick kiss before moving on. If you wear your hair up he feels prideful, more so than usual, and it intensifies even more if it is a formal gathering where any and all can see it. He'll be glued to that one side where the mark is, and he'll lean in to whisper to you whenever he wants to speak with you, giving a quick kiss to it or just touching it before standing up again.

His pact mark with you on the palm of his hand, and he finds himself thumbing it mindlessly to comfort himself, he starts to understand why Beel does it when he's nervous. Lucifer isn't nervous though, he just likes to remind himself of you, he likes to touch the mark that proves you're both bound together in such a way. When he speaks to you through the mark or tries to look through your eyes, activating the mark, it glows a bright white and reminds him of a blessing mark that angels give.

Having a pact with Lucifer makes him feel light, in a literal and metaphorical sense, every time he even thinks of it.

You bring him light that he thought he had lost long ago.

Mammon

Mammon would keep your pact mark on your collar bone, in the center, right where your throat dips into your chest. He knew you were caring, and being around you had him feeling different, and he wanted to be greedy. Since he is more emotionally inclined, I like to think that he can connect with souls and auras better, so when he felt your soul and looked at it a bit closer he felt so connected to it he knew he wanted to get close with you. It glows a bright gold when it activates, and he loves it, so sometimes when you're sleeping he'll call to the mark and kinda just look in amazement. 

Since he is very touchy, he loves to lay his head down on it, and listens to your heart and the soft buzz of his magic in your skin. He falls asleep fastest on those nights.

His mark with you is in the same place, and like his older brother when you use it it glows a soft white, something he loves since it matches well with his demon markings. Run your nails over it and the boy m e l t s. Since he had his collar opened all the time he loves when people see it, he makes pacts with witches all the time but this is the first time he's allowed a mark on him, and this honestly has everyone just lowkey s h o o k. Like Mammon? The pact whore for grimm? Allowed a mark? on H I M ?

Having a pact with Mammon makes him feel pride, ironically, but also loved and wanted.

He actually feels like an equal, when all else isn't, this is the one time where it's you AND him.

Leviathan

His pact mark on you is on your foot and wraps around your ankle, it seems easy to hide, but you can never really hide it. Unless you're wearing shoes that cover your ankle often or pants that don't ride up your ankle, it's always showing somewhere. He is a strong swimmer and loves to see you swim too, so he knows legs are important for the task, and that's where the idea of placing his mark on your ankle came from. Sometimes, he'll jump in the tank with you, and since he can breathe underwater with his gills (broski I like the idea of him having gills P L E A S E), he'll sit back and chill with Henry swimming around his head, seeing your mark move with the rest of your leg.

When you use the mark, it becomes a soft orange, the same shade that hides behind his eyes when they become more snake-like. Lay your legs over him when he's playing games and he'll settle the controller on your other ankles, letting his fingers brush against the mark on the other. Little shit will even let his claws some out just to scratch them lightly and tickle you like a motherfucker.

His mark is on the ankle opposite of yours, so when you're both cuddling he'll link your ankle around his, the feeling of you WITH him blows his mind sometimes. Same case when he uses it, glows white, due to you being a human and having such a bright soul. 

Having a pact with Leviathan makes him feel like he's worth something.

You helped him gain confidence and become a demon that deserves the title of Avatar of Envy.

Satan

His pact mark runs from the top of your calf to about mid-thigh, right on the back of your leg, it's large, slender, and delicate. It glows neon green when activated, something that he honestly finds cool as hell, because:

1. It's something that means you have a piece of him with you.

2. You make it look awesome.

3. It's honestly so fucking cool.

Like Levi, when you're both relaxing, him reading and you doing work/listening to music, and your legs are on his, he'll touch the mark mindlessly and feel so at peace. But, if you're ticklish, guess who also is a little shit. If you're in bed, and laying on your stomach, he'll lay his head on your thigh and just trace his with a look on his face that says 'wow' and if you think of that meme, yes, that's valid.

His mark is on the top of his hand, he always gets to see it, looking at it shows him the progress he's made. He knows how to manage his anger and actively tries to have it processed through a better outlet. You helping him along the way makes him have hope, an emotion that could seem a bit foreign at times, but he likes it. He feels light.

Making a pact with Satan has him feeling like he can be anything he wants.

He can be himself, not an extension of someone else.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus has no shame, but, when he cares- when he really does, he wants to make it meaningful. He would place it on your hip and have it there and only there, it won't wrap around to your ass or to your front, just your hip. He loves to watch it glow a radiant pink, so he'll section off time to just lay his head on your lap and ask you to call him, the tug of magic and the light emanating from your skin does something to him. Sure, it could be lust, or maybe something more, you may be able to figure it out if he told you.

He didn't want to though. He'd just enjoy the feeling without having to figure it out, because figuring it out meant facing himself, and we can't have that just yet. His pact mark is right over his heart, though Mammon's mark is in the same area, it isn't right over his heart. It is settled right between his pectorals, a slight bit to the left, always hovering around the muscle that proves he's alive and able to love in some capacity.

He often would come up to you and just place his hand on it, palm flat against your hip while his mark would flare up in an ivory light, he swears he can feel your pulse through it and wonders if you can feel his.

Having a pact with Asmodeus makes him feel as if he can be seen past his title- which ever one, and just be himself.

He can devout himself to something that means more than him.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub's pact mark is not on your abdomen actually! He wanted to place it on his favorite spot, on the back of your shoulder, away from the place where his sin seems to ravage him. It of course, glows a deep crimson, but be prefers it when it isn't activated- because it means you're safe and you don't need to call on him to help. He loves when you sit on his lap, because of a few reasons.

1. You're with him :)

2. You're happy :)

3. He can look at your mark as much as he likes, especially if it's exposed, he'll "somehow" leave small kisses all over it. They're so soft, you can't help but laugh, it's ticklish at times. It becomes even more ticklish when he presses his face against it, and if you laugh, he laughs, his laughs against your skin either make you soft or cackle in delight.

4. Your pact mark is right against his!

Beel would have his pact mark right on his chest, matching it to the side you choose to have your pact mark on. This makes the big boi real emotional, and he'll sometimes let some magic through and it glows, and you're kinda like:

"I hope that's a glow stick and not you again Beel."

"Let's just say it's a glow stick for now."

Having a pact with Beelzebub means you're a part of his family, happy, and healthy.

It really just makes him emotional.

Belphegor

When you make a pact with Belphegor, this lil' shit is honestly so surprised you said yes, but considering it was a gift you probably said yes to be respectful. But... you didn't. 

Your pact mark with him is on the back of your neck, where the cervical vertebrae are, moving a bit lower to the thoracic spine. When you suggested it go there, he had to ask why, and boy did he tear up once you explained it to him later that night. You wanted to trust him again and put the past behind you, so what better place to mend a wound than the place that finally put your lights out?

Please don't say it like this to him though, if you do he would think you're joking.

But if that's how it comes out, he'll think you're joking, until he remembers you're you and... he gets it.

It glows purple when activated or when you're sleepy/ in some type of stress, he wants to read your emotions so he can help you as much as he can, make up for what was done. He would never admit it though, and you can tell he's trying his best. His mark would be in the same exact place, not only to remind him of what he did, but that he can do better to make amends. He punishes himself for your death and you try to ease him out of it- and though it takes time, you'll find your way to it. 

He finds himself doing what Beel does, and will bury his face into your mark when he cuddles into you, and places small kisses on it. If he is laying on you, please touch the mark, it manages to calm him into a good sleep. 

Making a pact with Belphegor means you're ready to grow and build something better with him.

You help him find a better path that he needs to walk down on his own.

#reader insert #x reader #obey me x reader #obey me imagines #obey me x you #obey me headcanons #obey me #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x mc #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #leviathan x mc #satan x reader #satan x mc #obey me satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus x mc #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub x mc #belphegor x reader #belphegor x mc #belphie x reader #obey me belphie x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #beel x reader

[missymurphy1985]

The Premiere

The Premiere of Peaky Blinders, Series 6. You've had a secret lust for your co-star for the last 10 years, would this be your last chance to finally get your way with him?

This was a request from @noctvrnalmoth

Taglist - @queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @margoo0 @being-worthy @janelongxox

Lights flashing, cameras clicking, paparazzi calling your name left right and centre... God you hated premieres. But you plastered your game face on and gave the what they wanted like the good little actress you were. Series 6 of Peaky Blinders was premiering in Broad Street, Birmingham, appropriate as the series was based in the city - it felt right that that's where the final premiere should be.

You heard the crowd of fans behind you suddenly go wild as a car pulled up to the red carpet and the man himself stepped out of it. Your breath caught in your throat as you suddenly remembered the cameras were on you, and you quickly switched your game face back on. You couldn't hide the cheesy grin though, as Cillian Murphy stood smiling for the cameras. He made his way to the group of fans be happily signed a few autographs and took a few selfies with them. Thanking each of them for coming out, he waved and made his way over to you.

"Hey Ada," he smiled in his Brummie accent, knowing it made you laugh when he called you by your character's name.

"Tommy Shelby has arrived I see, did you leave Cillian in the hotel room?" He snaked an arm over your shoulder and you posed for more pictures together. Rumours had abounded for the last ten years of a romance behind the scenes between you, but none of them were true. You were good friends, that was all, no matter how much more you wanted.

"He was cramping my style Ada, can't have that at a premiere can we?" You giggled as he squeezed your shoulder, before reverting back to his Irish accent. "Reckon they've got enough photos, it's fucking brass knuckles out here!" He led you both into the hall where a waiter stood with a tray of champagne glasses. He took two and handed one to you. Clinking your glasses together in a toast.

"Here's to the end," he smiled, a touch of sadness in his eyes.

"It's been one hell of a ride though Cill, we've had a blast haven't we?"

"That we have y/n, that we have. Let's go cringe watching ourselves on camera, yeah?"

"Let the clenching begin!" You linked an arm with his and made your way into the auditorium together to the waiting interviewers.

Sitting on a chair each, the two of you glanced at each other and smiled. Both of you hated these promo interviews at premieres but at least you were doing this one together. Answering the questions as professionally as possible, the interviewer suddenly changed the topic to a more, personal, one.

"You must have seen the rumours flying around about the two of you in recent years?"

Cillian shrugged as you tried to hide your blush with a hand, pretending to laugh.

"There will always be rumours like that when co-stars of the opposite sex have chemistry onscreen - we've learned to let it go." Cillian always had an answer for it.

"It's a weird one though, I mean, I play his sister, you'd think the rumours would be about you and Tash, or Annabelle!" You smiled, your eyes meeting Cillian's. Did he just glance down at your cleavage?

"Tumblr has gone WILD about the two of you, fan made stories about you making out in secret onset, sneaking off together? Clear it up for us now - is there any truth to them?" The interviewer probed, hoping for some kind of sexy exclusive. Cillian's famous eyebrow raise quickly followed.

"If there was, we wouldn't admit it would we? The whole point of 'sneaking around' would mean it was a secret, wouldn't it? Be pointless to ruin the illusion now.." he smirked. The interviewer was stunned. So were you - you'd never done anything of the sort.. what was he doing? The papers would go wild with this tomorrow! You hid your face in your hands and snorted. He wasn't having the upper hand in this.

"He wouldn't stand a chance anyway." You smirked.

"Is that so y/n?" He turned to look at you. "These blue eyes didn't make you weak at the knees when we were filming? The strong jawline not having the Tommy Shelby effect?" Those blue eyes were staring you down now, you had no words. Just then the bell rang to signal the end of interviews - the premiere of the new series was about to begin in the auditorium. The interviewer was still slightly agog - what exactly had he just witnessed here?

"That was amazing wasn't it? They did an incredible job editing it all, just brilliant!" You gushed as you and Natasha left the auditorium.

"Not bad at all!! I'm gutted we won't be filming together again though y/n.." she hugged you tight. "And I'm sure Cillian will miss you too." She smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh god don't you start, those rumours have been plaguing me for years!! We're just friends Tash!" She nodded, still smirking, and glanced behind you, seeing Cillian making his way over.

"I'll see you at the party, yeah?" She made her way to the casino next door where the after-party was being held.

Two strong hands clipped your waistline making you jump, nearly spilling your champagne.

"Too easy y/n," Cillian chuckled.

"Asshole," you laughed, slapping his arm playfully. He smiled and, arm over your shoulder again, he walked with you to the casino.

"I'm not staying long y/n, so I'll say it now yeah?" He ordered the two of you a drink at the bar and turned to face you. The loud music drowning out most of the noise. You couldn't hear him very well.

"What?"

"I said, I'm not staying long y/n! I need to tell you something." Louder now, bending down to talk into your ear. Your drinks arrived and you made your way to a slightly quieter corner.

"Should I be worried Cill?"

"Maybe.." your breath caught again. "See, you know those rumours? The ones about us basically fucking behind the scenes?" Your cheeks burned.

"Oh those? Um.. yeah.. what about them?" He cleared his throat, bending to whisper loudly in your ear.

"Didn't you ever wish they were true?" You pulled back. The fuck did he just say?

"What?!" You nearly dropped your drink from the sudden movement.

"Just once, didn't you ever just wonder what could've happened?" His blue eyes so dark, looking right into yours.

"Listen, I'm not asking for a relationship, god knows neither of us need that right now, but this is the last time I'm gonna get this opportunity before we part ways for good. Meet me on floor 7 in 15 minutes. Room 712. If you don't come, I'll know the answer. If you do... Well..." He squeezed your hip, downed his drink and walked away. You stood in shock for a minute, collecting your thoughts. Okay, so he was right about one thing - neither of you were interested in a relationship. This would be a one time thing, no strings attached, which suited you down to the ground.. yes you found him impossibly attractive, but you both just came out of very high profile serious relationships... Maybe a quick fling wasn't such a bad idea? Get it out your systems, move on... You downed your own drink and left the party. What room was it again....

Room 712. The door was slightly ajar. You checked your watch - 18 minutes. You knew he was a stickler for timekeeping but you couldn't resist being a little late. Without knocking, you pushed the door open to find an empty room. Shit... Being late wasn't such a good idea now... Quickly scanning the room, you saw the ensuite door emitting steam from it. He's in the shower... This could work... Opening the door you saw his outline through the shower door, rinsing his hair under the hot water. You quickly slipped your dress to the floor, along with your underwear, and slowly eased yourself into the shower with him, quietly. You snaked your hands over his firm waist and he jumped, turning to face you, wiping water and soap out of his eyes.

"Too easy, Cill." He composed himself and smiled.

"So you did come then?"

"Well, not yet, but I'm hoping you could help with that?" You smirked, and looked down to see his erection already forming.

"Wanna let me get out first?"

"Nope, no need. There's plenty of room in here..." You sank to your knees and took him into your mouth.

"Ah... Fuck me..." He gasped as you sucked him to full erection.

"Now now, Mr Murphy, we'll get to that part soon enough..." Taking him back in, your tongue swirling around the tip, teeth gently scraping the underside of his cock. Sinking his head down, and backing into the shower wall, allowing the water to cascade over your back, he watched as you expertly sucked him, groaning into his shaft and cupping his balls lightly, giving them a sharp tug now and again. He couldn't take much more and lifted you to your feet.

"I'm not finishing in your mouth y/n.. I have a much better destination for it..." He knew you were on birth control, you'd spoken about it before when you were both going through yours respective breakups. Both of you also getting your checks done after your partners had cheated on you. All clean and ready to go.

Moving you against the wall of the shower, he angled the water away slightly, pressing his lips to yours. Snaking a hand down between your legs he was impressed to find you already wet for him. Smiling against your lips, he slowly inserted a finger deep inside, causing your hips to buck against him.

"Yes... Cillian yes..." Pushing a second finger in, he tipped them up and towards him slightly, catching hold of that sweet spot inside. You jumped again.

"Too easy y/n..." You couldn't help your hips rocking against his fingers, groaning deeply as he fucked you with them, picking up the pace. Your orgasm built quickly and he felt your walls clenching, but he quickly removed them and lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, he pushed his hard length into you. Your mouth opened wide with a loud groan as it hit that magical spot on the first thrust, and you screamed his name as your orgasm finally hit, Cillian pounding into you as you called his name. You just prayed the room next door was empty...

He tangled his hands into your hair as he continued thrusting up into you, your nails were clawing his shoulders as you moaned loudly - a second release quickly building.

"Need to move, my legs are killing me!" He groaned into your neck, and begrudgingly lifted you off him, keeping your legs round his waist as he turned the shower off and carried you into the main room. Sitting in the chair, he sat you back on his lap, a leg either side of him

"Want me to ride you Cill?" He nodded as you ground your hips against him, not taking him inside you just yet. If this was the only chance you had to do this, you were making it last as long as possible.

"Fuck.. don't tease me y/n..."

"Want me to ride that big cock of yours Cillian? Bounce up and down, back and forth, round and round.." your hips mimicking your words making him gasp. Your mouth teasing his now, tongue tracing his lips. He kept moving to kiss you fully but you kept pulling back.

"Jesus y/n..." You sank down onto him, taking him inside you. Riding him hard, your second orgasm burning inside desperate for release. He pushed you back slightly and moved your fingers down to your own clit. "Rub it... Wanna watch you..." You happily complied, head thrown back in pure ecstacy as you rode both him and your fingers to your orgasm. Shuddering with the release, feeling your juices coat him, he picked you up again and lay you down on the double bed, relentlessly pounding into you now while you clutched at his back, nails surely drawing blood now. He was like a man possessed, harder than he'd ever been before.

"That's it... That's it... Fuck... Cillian!" You were screaming his name as he grunted against your neck.

"Gonna cum y/n... Fuck..." With a loud groan followed by your name he came hard, filling you completely as a third orgasm took you along with him. Pulling out slowly, catching his breath, he remained on top of you.

"My shoulders are fucking shredded y/n..." He laughed, feeling the sting from where your nails had scratched him.

"Sorry... You were just too good..." You breathed, still coming down from your high. He rolled onto his back and pulled you into his arms. You lay there silently for a while, playing with his chest hair.

"That was worth the wait.." he smiled and kissed the top of your head. All you could do was nod, words suddenly becoming impossible. You'd never been fucked that good before in your life.

"Let's make a deal," he tilted your face up to look at him, gently leaning down to kiss your lips. "If we work together again in the future, and we're both single, we do this again. What do you say?" You smiled. You were worried for a second he was going to profess his undying love for you - definitely not what you wanted from this.

"Deal. Hey, there might be a role for me in the movie yet," you winked, biting your lip. He smirked down at you and rested his head back on the pillow.

"Can't wait." You sat up to get ready to leave, you both knew you couldn't stay. One of you had to go back to the party so as not to arouse too much suspicion.

"This was fun, right? And we're okay?"

"Yes, and yes. All good. Stay in touch? No matter what?" He watched you get dressed and fix your hair, reapplying your lipstick.

"Definitely." You leaned over him to steal a final kiss, and headed out the door smiling, both of you silently praying Ada had a place in the movie, and vowing to remain single for the foreseeable future.

#cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian x smut #peaky blinders x reader

[angryschnauzer]

Stuck

Summary: You are August Walkers maid, and when you are changing the sheets on his massive bed your hand gets stuck between the mattress and headboard. Upon finding you in that predicament August takes control of the situation, however it doesn’t mean you get unstuck any time soon. (Based on a pornhub video i saw at 2am a few nights ago)

Pairing: August Walker x Female Maid Reader (no race or size described) Fandom; Henry Cavill, Mission Impossible: Fallout.

Warnings; NSFW, 18+, Dub-con, Fingering, groping, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, size kink, breeding kink, boob play, anal fingering, double penetration, spanking, spying/stalker behaviour, surveilence, voyerism, unauthorized recording of a sex act, not-great aftercare (he tries), slight dom/sub, the start of a ‘sugar daddy’ arrangement, however no reference to Daddy kink. 

I do not operate a tag list, however please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. That way you’ll get an alert every time i post anything. Masterlist can be found on AO3 link HERE

Read the Steve Rogers version of this story HERE

Stuck

 Ringing the doorbell, you stood anxiously on the doormat outside the expensive apartment, listening for approaching steps but hearing none. So when the door suddenly opened you let out a tiny yelp of surprise, before taking a deep breath to steady your racing heart;

 “Good afternoon Mr Walker”

 The giant of a man stood in front of you, recognition quickly passing over his face when he saw your uniform of black dress and simple black ballet flats;

 “Oh yes, the maid. C’mon in”

 You worked for a high security housekeeping company, strict controls and stringent background checks as you were contracted to the pentagon and the agents and staff that worked there. You always worked on an ad-hoc basis, only visiting homes when clients or agents requested it. This was however the fourth time cleaning Mr Walker’s apartment, always having to work around suitcases littering the halls and various weapons being cleaned and serviced on the kitchen table. 

 Holding your pail of cleaning supplies you waited as he shut the door, talking at you rather than to you;

 “Okay so here’s what you need to do today; clean the bathroom and kitchen, vacuum the rugs throughout, change the bedding and leave in the laundry hamper”

 You nodded;

 “Sweeping throughout too sir?”

 “No need, the Roomba does the smooth floors, it just can’t get onto the deep pile rugs” he hooked an earbud into one ear; “I’m going out for a run, I’ll be two hours”

 Swallowing nervously you nodded, watching as he hooked the other earbud in and left without another word, leaving you staring at the white wood of the door after he’d closed it. 

 Mr Walker both scared and excited you. A beast of a man, he was all muscle, and each time you had visited he had excused himself so not to be there whilst you were. The fact that he was always in a tank top and running shorts that did nothing to hide any part of him had you stretching your concentration to its limits in order to get your job done and not drift off into a fantasy land that you saved for when you were curled up in your own bed.

 Getting to work you started on the kitchen, stacking the dishwasher with the various dirty crockery that littered the room, cleaning the surfaces, sink, stove. Next up you hit the rugs, working quickly as you vacuumed, before heading to the bathroom. 

 Taking a deep breath you opened the door and relaxed. Cleaning bathrooms for single men were what you always dreaded, but at least as you started to cleanse every surface including the toilet, you realised that Mr Walker thankfully had good aim. Finally it was time for the shower, and as you pulled open the glass door and looked down you let out a shriek; the largest spider you’d ever seen sat in the corner. Grabbing the handled loofah you crept a little closer, letting out a laugh when you saw it wasn’t in fact an arachnid; instead it was a clump of dark hair;

 “Well, the man does have a lot of hair” you muttered to no-one but yourself, thinking about how his chest was covered in a mat of soft hair, exposed in the low neck of his running tank. 

 Half an hour later you wiped your brow on the back of your arm. Mr Walkers bathroom had in fact been a nightmare, the man shed more hair than a fucking German Shepherd. Washing your hands and glancing at your watch, you saw that you had fifteen minutes left of the two hours, taking a deep breath before grabbing the clean linens from the closet.

 Mr Walkers bedroom was white. There was no personalisation, no trinkets. Slipping your ballet flats off you climbed onto the bed, mentally taking in the sheer size of it; it must be a super king if not larger. Your mind immediately went south, imagining Mr Walker fucking on the bed, sprawled out as you straddle his face - you had always wondered what that moustache felt like against your skin - and you ride his tongue, or him pile driving you into the mattress, his hard body pressing against every inch of you as he fills you.

 Moving up the bed you tugged on the sheet, cursing as it wouldn’t pull out from between the mattress and headboard. With a huff you shuffled forward, pushing your hands down between them, tugging on the expensive white cotton. Pushing your arm down a little further you could just about feel that it was caught on something, moving to pull back and then it happened… you were stuck.

 “What the...?” you muttered, realisation hitting you that your watch had slipped into the gap and was now preventing you from pulling your arm out. You could feel your heart rate increasing as you struggled to set yourself free, pulling against the strain but it did little to help.  You pushed and pulled and grunted, hiking your dress up so you could widen your stance on the bed, but nothing worked. You frantically looked around to see the time, yet there wasn’t a clock or display in sight, and you could hardly look at your watch. If you didn’t get out of there soon Mr Walker…

 “Well isn’t this a pretty sight…”

 No. Please no. Oh god no. You screwed your eyes shut, the heat of embarrassment rising to your skin;

 “I’m stuck” you whispered, letting out a yelp when you felt the bed dip behind you, feeling his hands gently resting on your hips;

 “Unfortunate for you, maybe not so for me...”

 -

 Five minutes ago.

 August sat in the small room, staring at the laptop screen in front of him. As ideas went, this was both his best and worst idea yet. Installing hidden security cameras in his apartment had been at first simply for security whilst he was away on missions, but he’d found a secondary use for it once the agency had recommended your employers as a maid service. He hadn’t been expecting someone as pretty as you, you had this look of innocence about you that made him just want to corrupt you and ruin you. He may be a bastard but he wasn’t a heathen, so instead of just turning on the charm offensive he had found an abandoned room in his apartment building and set up a small surveillance center. One with a chair, a laptop, a bottle of lube and a box of tissues. 

 August Walker had just spent the last two hours edging himself as he watched you bend over in that knee length dress, adjusting camera angles to see up your skirt as you bent over. August Walker was one step away from full on pervert. And he had no regrets at all.

 That was until he saw you on his bed, and realised you were trapped. Temptation got the better of him, so stuffing his hard dick back into his running shorts, he quickly left the room and silently made his way back to his apartment. 

 He entered and could smell the pleasant scent of the cleaning fluids you’d used, the quiet grunts as you tried to free yourself from your predicament. Toeing off his sneakers he silently made his way through the hallways, suppressing a groan as he saw you on his bed; ass up face down, the fabric of your dress stretched over the tops of your thighs, the fabric moving as you moved to expose glimpses of your buttocks. He pressed a hand over the obscene bulge in his shorts before moving to the bed.

 -

 “Mr Walker!” you squeaked out in surprise; “You’re back… umm I’m stuck, my watch… I can’t get my wrist back through the gap between the headboard and the mattress”

 “Oh… what a shame. Let me help…”

 You were expecting him to move around you, but instead he covered your body with his own and grasped your arms. Your mind was lost as you took in how his massive hands could completely circle your wrists, the weight of him above you almost suffocating, and when he started to tug you knew you were done for. 

 The gentle rocking of your bodies, rubbing against one another was all it took for a moan to leave your mouth involuntarily, the feeling of his hard dick rutting against the crease of your ass making you embarrassingly wet almost instantly. He grunted above you;

 “Huh, well that didn’t work…”

 Pushing himself up he knelt behind you, still pressing his hard-on against your ass as his hands gripped your hips and he tugged gently, however all he did was pull you back against his crotch;

 “This fabric is slippery, hang on a second…”

 Pressing your head to the bed you felt him flip your skirt up, hearing a sharp intake of breath behind you as he took in the bright red thong you were wearing beneath your dress. His warm hands smoothed over your buttocks before gripping onto your hips and half-heartedly tugging again. 

 It was no good, you were too turned on to even object. You’d lusted after your client for weeks, and now you found yourself in this predicament which it was obvious he had no intention of helping you with, but instead had other ideas that you had no desire to object to. You were rocking back against his dick, the quiet moans escaping your throat telling him you were more than into it, so when you felt his fingers curl around the elastic of your underwear and tug them down to your mid-thigh, all you could do was arch your back and present your pussy for his inspection. 

 Thick fingers parted your folds, teasing your nectar to your aching clit where a thumb rubbed hard circles against the sensitive bud. His other hand was lost from you for a moment and you could feel him moving, before you felt the thwack of his heavy dick against your ass. 

 With your hand trapped and your body stretched out you could barely look over your shoulder, but when you did you could see the impressive bulk of your clients body towering over you, the sight making your cunt clench with anticipation.

 “Excited, are we?”

 “Please Mr Walker…”

 “Please what?” You moaned and his quiet chuckle filled the room; “You gotta say it”

 “Please fuck me”

 “Eager little thing, aren’t we?”

 “Please…”

 “Well, as you asked so nicely…”

 He took hold of his dick and dragged the bulbous tip through your folds, dousing himself with your juices before lining himself up with your entrance. When you felt him push just the tip inside you it felt like you were being split open, he must be as thick as your wrist, and as he continued to force his way into your body it felt like he was the length of your forearm.

 “Such a good little slut, taking my dick…” his voice filled your senses as your body fought to relax and allow him deeper, your juices running down your legs where he would rock back and forth to lubricate his girth before pushing another punishing inch in to you. 

 Your velvet walls parted yet gripped him tight, and you could feel every ridge, bump and vein as he started to fuck your tight pussy. With every pull and push your head swam, your body moving back to meet his thrusts as his massive hands gripped onto your hips and he started to slam into you harder and harder. When his hand came down onto your ass the loud smack surprised you just as much as the pain, but you arched your back even more like a bitch in heat. 

 He reached beneath you, tugging at the neckline of your dress with both hands, before the seam of the collar broke and the soft jersey stretched enough for him to tug the fabric down. His fingers caught in the lace cups of your bra, and whilst still plunging deep into you from behind, he was able to let your titties swing free and he grabbed a handful;

 “Such pretty tits. Next time you clean I want you in just your underwear so I can watch them swing. Might get you scrubbing the floors so I can see you bent over and ready for me”

 You shuddered at his words, he already paid a premium for your services, and the electronic tip that he’d sent through had been more than generous, the last visit alone you had been surprised by the triple figures, but more than grateful that you were able to pay the bills.

 His hands had found their way back to your ass, smoothing over the soft skin as he continued to fuck you, the wide ridge that ran along the underside of his length rubbing so beautifully against your g-spot, you were sure you were going to cum soon. 

 He pulled your cheeks apart and you felt him spit on your asshole, the warm liquid pooling for a moment before his thumb started to rub insistently over the brown rose. Burying your head in the soft sheets you allowed your body to relax as he breached your back door with his thumb, the wide digit stretching you as he pushed in as far as he could;

 “This ass is incredible. I can’t wait to fuck it”

 You let out a tiny yelp at the idea of trying to fit his massive cock in your ass;

 “Mr Walker!”

 “Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you’re stretched out first. Might want to add a plug to the uniform list for next time, make sure you’re ready lubed and stretched for me. But don’t you worry your pretty little head, this time I’m just going to cum deep in this sweet pussy of yours. Are you on birth control? Are you ripe?”

 You hadn’t even considered birth control. Your insurance had stopped covering you a couple of years back, so when you had gone on the occasional date that had ended up between the sheets, you’d simply resorted to condoms;

 “No… no…”

 “Oh yes. I’m going to cum deep inside you, let my seed rest within your womb. God, I’d love to see your belly round with my child, I bet your tits would be even more impressive. Hmmn yes, that’s fucking perfect…”

 You hadn’t thought it possible, but all that he said was turning you on even more, and it wasn’t just you that liked the idea, you could feel him swell within you, his girth growing thicker as his arousal grew. The added stretch was driving you closer and closer to your own orgasm, the dual stimulations of your pussy and ass both being filled had you trembling with need.

 “Are you going to cum for me?” his voice was hoarse and dry, an edge of desperation to it too; “I’m close, gonna shoot my load in you soon. You’d better cum before I do ‘cos once I’m done I’m pulling out and will leave you dripping with my seed and on edge…”

 The threat of being left on the precipice was enough to push your body over the edge, cumming hard as your body held him so tight he thought he wouldn’t be able to pull out. The vice like grip had him throwing his head back as your body milked him, his own orgasm ripping through his body that he came with a roar and a string of expletives. 

 -

 August wasn’t sure if he had ever cum that hard before, but the way your body gripped him so tight he was in no doubt that your pussy was the best he’d ever had - and he’d had a lot - and he knew without a doubt that he was not going to let anyone else ever come near it again.

 As he slowed his thrusts and let you work through the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, he mentally checked off all the things he’d been checking up on; from the details of your financials, your family and education, your social media. He had seen all of them. He had your phone tapped and knew that he was going to be installing spy cameras in your apartment… that was until you agreed to be his. 

 Looking down at your ass he pulled his thumb out of your now loosened asshole, making sure to catch the way it winked as he recorded on his phone, having pulled that out of his pocket soon after he’d started and had recorded himself defiling your body. Giving your ass a smack he relished how the camera picked up the jiggle as the force rippled through you, before grasping a large handful of ass as he pulled out and watched his cum pool at your entrance, before pushing it back in with two thick fingers. Tugging your underwear up your legs from where they had settled around your knees, he made sure the flimsy red mesh covered your hole, quickly getting soaked with his seed as he pushed the fabric against the mess to fully coat it. 

 Finally he shut his phone off and reached towards the headboard, giving it a tug and feeling it lift, watching as you silently pulled your hand free before collapsing on the bed. He carefully unbuckled your wristwatch before rubbing at the sore skin, easing away the chafed skin. He set your hand down carefully and quickly left the room, returning a moment later with a glass of water and holding it to your lips as he helped you sit up. 

 Setting the empty glass on the side, he rubbed your back before attempting to fix your torn collar, finally giving up. He swiped a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the mascara tear stains;

 “Next week you’ll need to be in your underwear and heels. Make sure the plug is well lubricated. I’ll have everything delivered to your address”

 You went to object, to question how he would even know, but then realised… CIA… of course he knew. You pushed yourself to the edge of the bed, finding your shoes and slipping your feet in, standing on wobbly legs as he spoke again.

 “Do as I ask and I’ll let you stay the night so I can fuck your other two holes as well”

 Turning you nodded;

 “Yes Mr Walker”

 “Oh, you can call me Sir now” he turned to leave the room before waving his finger at the pile of fresh linen still folded at the end of the bed; “Remember to finish up before you leave”

 He left the room without another word. You went to object, but just as you did you felt the phone in your pocket vibrate. Quickly checking it your eyebrows practically shot off the top of your head, seeing the tip transfer come through for $2000. Biting your lip, your thumb hovered over the accept/decline buttons, the moral dilemma tearing your mind in two.

 -

 In the hallway August watched his phone. He could see that you’d received the notification of the tip. When he saw your action on the app he smiled and slid the phone back into his pocket, already planning your next visit.

Part 2 >>>

#august walker #august walker smut #august walker x reader #henry cavill #august walker x you

[skzsauce01]

King of Hearts

Synopsis: The king of hearts has a very special surprise planned for his queen. Heavy inspiration from Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass.

Warning: murder

Word Count: 4.5k

Pairing: fem!reader x king!Chan

The throne room looks best at night when the moonlight spills through the giant glass windows and illuminates the wall of weapons behind the throne. It is an odd array of mostly clubs, maces, and swords, but dead center in the wall and above the plush red velvet seat of the king is a heavy double-bladed axe. Crafted and honed to be as sharp as a diamond knife, it is the perfect tool for executions.

Tomorrow evening it’s gleaming, polished surface will splattered with the blood of a queen.

The king allows himself to admire his collection of weaponry for another minute before returning to his bedchambers where his wife is surely missing his warm presence.

“Good morning, sweet tart,” your husband purrs into your ear. “It’s a special day today.”

You have been awake for the past hour, pretending to be fast asleep when you were actually sneaking glances of Chan in various states of undress. However, you keep your eyes closed and your breathing steady, knowing that he will start planting kisses down your jaw if you’re not awake soon.

“I know you’re not really sleeping,” he continues. He taps the corner of your mouth, and you try not to smile. “I saw you looking earlier.”

You give up the charade and sit up. “Can you blame me?” you grin. “You always dress so nicely for court trials. How many are on the agenda today?”

“Four,” he replies, pulling you closer to him. You playfully squirm in his embrace, and he placates you with exactly four kisses on the crown of your head. “Will you be attending?”

You sink into him and wish you could stay there all day. Just the thought of your own schedule tires you. “I have to ‘entertain’ my sister.”

Chan’s throaty chuckle rumbles against your cheek. “Just until dinnertime, sweet tart. Then you’ll be free.”

“I know. Thank goodness she’ll be busy after dinner.”

Reluctantly you let go of your husband and stumble out of bed. Your dreadful sister will nag at you in that awful harpy-esque way of hers if you’re even a second late to breakfast. Chan makes a feeble attempt to grab your wrist before following you to the vanity.

“Is the king not needed in court yet?” you tease as you brush out the tangles in your hair.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and presses his cheek against yours. “I’m missing something.”

It’s a silly tradition from your courting days: a kiss for each departure. He insisted on keeping it even when the two of you married, and you happily obliged. You turn to peck him on the cheek, but he twists his head so that your lips land onto his. He laughs at your noise of surprise and kisses you like he’s never going to see you again. It has been a while since Chan has been this intimate with you, and you eagerly return his affections.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” you remark when he finally pulls away. You feel warm all over, but Chan is as composed as ever.

He smiles, full dimples showing. “It’s a special day today.”

“Goodbye, darling,” you say as you watch him leave the room through the vanity mirror.

He gives you one last glance before disappearing through the door. You note that he didn’t bother to fix his mussed up hair and giggle when you picture how he’ll look with the crown on his head.

It’s a good start to a bad day.

“You’re late,” is what your older sister greets you with.

You sit across from her at the dining table and do your best not to scowl. You wonder how the servants feel about her. There are none in the room, so in typical fashion, she must have dismissed them for one negligible reason or another. “Good morning to you too, Nari.”

“What are you wearing? Does this kingdom only wear red and black?” she continues. She picks up her cup of tea and stares at you above the lip, waiting for you to explain. Even with a team of royal advisors and a sister married to a foreign king, she still refuses to learn anything about kingdoms other than her own.

You sigh and try to remember Chan’s words. You only have to suffer through this until dinner and then your sister will finally be gone. “It’s a court day, so everyone wears red and black. It’s custom.”

“You and your frivolous trials,” she scoffs. “What’s the point when they’re all guilty anyway? So, are you going to ask about my trip? Where are your manners, little sister?”

You’re certain she means well when she nags you, but it doesn’t make it any less irritating. “How is everything at home?” you ask instead, knowing that will produce a shorter answer.

“Fine. Felix is ruling in my stead, but most of my advisors are with him, so he’ll have no trouble with it.” Nari picks up a scone topped with confectioner’s sugar and eyes it curiously before taking a bite. “Your sweets are quite good.”

You primly nod and pour yourself a cup of tea. Breakfast is mostly silent, and you’re glad that you nor your sister care to make conversation. You can barely stand her when she’s in a tolerable mood, and it seems like she’s nothing of the sort today. Her usual haughty disposition is only tempered by her breakfast of sweets. Nari seems to be enjoying the food with less complaints than usual, and you feel just a bit smug.

When the servants come to clear away the plates, you hollowly suggest to show Nari the rose gardens. She cheerfully agrees and links arms with you as you lead her outside.

It’s an uncomfortable feeling to have her so close to you after you haven’t seen her in a year. It’s even odder when you realize that she hasn’t linked arms with you since you were five and she eight. You mindlessly point out a few varieties of flowers on the way to the garden and wonder why your normally cold sister has turned warm.

“Is everything alright?” you ask once you have led her to the middle of the garden. The sweet scent of the roses always relaxes you, and hopefully they will do the same for Nari. “You’re acting strange all of a sudden.”

She lets you go and stands in front of you. “Your husband. I don’t like him.”

“We courted for two years,” you remind her, frowning at the memory of her telling you the same thing when Chan first arrived at your home. “And we’re married now. I know you don’t like him, but there’s nothing you can do now.”

She shakes her head. “Do you know what the village girls call him? I stopped in town yesterday, and all the girls could talk about was Chan, the King of Hearts! They went on and on about his ‘perfect face’ and ‘perfect body.’ Think about what he’s done to get such a name!”

“Be an eligible, handsome future king?” You sigh and grab a nearby rose to stick your nose in. You will not give her the satisfaction of setting you off. “Nari,” you begin, your terse voice muffled by the petals, “it’s natural that you want to protect me, but if you’re only here to criticize Chan, then I’m not sure what to do with you during your stay.”

“I saw him stare at me when I arrived last night,” she protests. “Like an animal, unabashed.”

You almost snort at her claim. If anything, Chan dislikes Nari more than you do due to her constant nitpicks of him during the courting years. The incessant “You will never be good enough for her” and “Stay away from my siblings” surprisingly did not deter him from proposing to you.

“I’m sure it was disdain, not lust,” you dryly reply.

“I feel like I’m being watched in this place,” she continues, ignoring your remark. “I don’t trust him or anyone here.”

No wonder why she suddenly put on a facade the moment the servants stepped in the dining room.

“What do you think of the garden?” you ask to change the subject. You cannot fight with her on court day and with so many guests in the castle. “These are our prized roses. Chan said it took the gardeners and florists years to breed them.”

Nari glances at the flower you hold and purses her lips. “It looks like someone painted a white rose red. There’s still spots of white on them. You’re certain they were bred and not painted?”

You swallow the retort in your throat and reach out for another rose to inhale. Nari is just being Nari.

“How about a game of croquet?” You take her elbow and start leading her to the croquet court without waiting for a response. “I think you’ll enjoy it. I’ll teach you how to play.”

Nari roughly snatches her arm back, and her eyes flash with an unfamiliar fire. “You’re not taking any of this seriously, little sister. All the village tarts have likely been with him already, so you mean nothing to him! Isn’t that his cute, little pet name for you too? ‘Sweet tart?’ You’re pathetic.”

For all Nari has said in the past, she has never directly insulted you like this. The fragile restraint you have on your emotions snaps.

“You just hate Chan because he didn’t want to marry you!” you shout, pointing an accusing finger at her. “You’re just bitter that he chose me instead of you! And do you know why he and no one else likes you? Because you’re a cold, angry, bitter hag that nitpicks everything! And you think you’re such a perfect ruler, but the truth is that your advisors hate you and like Felix better! I bet the entire kingdom is happier without you!”

It comes out in one long breath, and you’re red in the face from screaming years of pent up feelings at your sister. It feels good to let it all out. With a sick sense of delight, you watch as Nari turns scarlet and as her eyes gloss over with tears.

“I’m going back to my chambers,” she frostily says.

She pushes past you, and you don’t try to follow her. Even though it’s a longer way back to the castle, you take the opposite path and head to the courtroom.

At least someone will be happy to see you.

You appear placid when you enter the courtroom, which is just the throne room with extra chairs for the jury and audience. Everyone stares at you as you walk to the empty seat reserved for you at king’s side.

“Hello, darling,” you whisper to him as you fluff out your skirts. “My sister decided to retire early to her room.”

He nods in reply and turns back to the defendant. “Proceed.”

Despite his reserved facade, he places one hand on top of yours and starts fiddling with your fingers to try and make you burst out into laughter. It’s a game you and him play during court days, and he has won the past three rounds. However, by the time the defendant is found guilty, neither of you have broken each other.

Chan calls to break for afternoon tea, but you and him linger in the empty room.

He helps you up from your seat and pulls you into an embrace in one fluid motion. “Court is much more fun with you,” he sighs into your hair. “Have I mentioned how stunning you look in red?”

“Only every time I wear it.” You reach up and brush a stray curl from his temple. “Might I say, you look even more handsome than when I saw you this morning.”

“It must be all the guilty verdicts. Are you going to watch the executions in the evening?”

“I always do.” Your eyes fall onto the double-bladed axe above the throne. “It’s my favorite part of court day.”

“I think you’ll enjoy today’s very much.” He slips his arm from your waist to your hands and begins leading you to the dining hall. “I heard the cook made jam tarts for tea today. Your favorite.”

You lean into him and smile at his pleased expression. “You requested them, didn’t you? She hasn’t made them in ages!”

“Sweet tarts for my sweet tart,” he playfully says, kissing your fingertips and making you giggle. “I thought they would make afternoon tea with your sister less awful.”

The mere mention of Nari turns your mood sour. “I hope she skips tea.”

“Did you two quarrel?”

“When do we not?”

Two servants open the door to the dining hall, and to your vast disappointment, you spot Nari seated at an empty table by a window, a cup of tea in hand. Her head is turned, and you can’t see her face, but she is the only person in the room not wearing red and black.

You hesitate by the door, and Chan nudges you toward her. “Your sister’s here.”

“Don’t you hate Nari?” you try. “Please don’t make me talk to her.”

“I do, but politics. She’s my sister-in-law” — he doesn’t even bother to hide the disgust in his voice  — “and the queen of a foreign kingdom. You hate her less than I do.”

The last part is debatable. “I get a front seat at the executions tonight,” you negotiate. “And jam tarts for tea for the rest of the week.”

Chan gratefully kisses your cheek and murmurs into your ear, “You can request jam tarts from the cook whenever you like, you know. I’ll see you after.”

You should have demanded more, like handling executions instead of getting a front row seat to them. He would have never agreed to that.

While he leaves to chat with some aristocrats about the past trials, you stiffly walk towards your sister. You take the empty chair in front of her and curtly say a greeting. She says nothing and instead pours you a cup of tea. For a minute, the two of you choose to sip your drinks and nibble on the quiches and tarts.

“Have you come to apologize?” Nari says in a strange brittle way. She finally looks up from the table, and you see that her eyes are ringed with red.

You want to say no because you haven’t, but a small part of you feels guilty for making her cry. As far as you remember, Nari stopped crying when she was eight.

However, you’re still upset. “No because you’ve never apologized to me. For saying all those things about me and for being rude to Chan all the time.”

“I meant all those things.”

“So did I.”

Another silence. You sneak glances at her, and judging by the fact that she’s still chewing on the same mini quiche from two minutes ago, she’s barely holding it together.

“Here,” you abruptly say, placing a raspberry jam tart on her plate. “I know you like sweets better.”

You can see her debating whether she should take your peace offering or not. Her jaw is set as she looks down at it, but her fingers twitch like she wants to grab it and taste it.

“It’s good, I promise.”

She takes a cautious bite of it and slowly reaches for another from the tower of treats. In the meantime, you refill your cups with more tea and smirk when you see the content expression Nari has when she finishes the tart. Across the room, Chan gives you an encouraging smile at your efforts.

“How’s Felix?” you ask. Your little brother is usually a safe topic. “He’s going to be old enough to be king soon, isn’t he?”

“According to you, he’ll make a much better ruler than me,” she sniffs.  “But I’m the eldest, so I was always going to be queen. Unlike whatever nonsensical laws you have here.”

She says ‘here’ like she said ‘pathetic’ earlier. Nari says something about Felix and how his studies are going, but you’re too concerned with keeping your anger in check to hear it.

“You can never leave anything alone, can you?” you snap in the midst of her spiel. You wrap all of the tarts — yes, every single one from the tea tower, much to your sister’s dismay — in a bundle of napkins and stand up. “I’ll see you at dinner, Nari.”

You hear her huff a reply about how immature you’re being, but you don’t care. On your way back to the courtroom, someone grabs your wrist and spins you toward them.

You already know it’s Chan. “I tried but—”

“Are you really going to take all those tarts and share none with me?”

“Oh?” You hold out the napkins and let him pick between raspberry jam and lemon curd. “You’re not here to come tell me to make nice with my sister?”

“I saw it wasn’t going well, so I called for court to resume in ten minutes,” he says, licking the leftover jam from his fingers. He smiles reassuringly at you. “Don’t lose your pretty head over her. She’s…”

“Annoying? Rude? Deserving of none of our kindness?”

He stifles a laugh at your tone and starts leading to the courtroom. “Difficult,” is what he finally settles upon, but you can hear the exasperation in his voice. “She won’t be a problem for you much longer though.”

“I can hardly wait until tomorrow,” you sigh. “Goodbye, dreadful Nari.”

All the pastries are finished by the time you and Chan take your designated seats. No one else has arrived yet, so Chan takes off his crown and rests his head on your shoulders. He contently sighs and nestles his face into the crook of your neck.

“I think you’ll like this trial,” he mumbles, his tickly breath making you giggle. “It’s why jam tarts have been a scarcity for the past two weeks.”

“Is the cook on the stand?” you joke. The double doors to the throne room start to open, and you raise your shoulder. “Darling.”

Within seconds, King Bang Chan is back and your adoring husband shelved away. More people fill the empty seats in the room, and you watch the entrance carefully to ensure your sister hasn’t decided to show up and make your day worse. It’s unlikely since she is bound to be upset, but you can never be too sure. As expected though, she never arrives, and you sigh in relief. When the trial begins, Chan’s hand is over yours, fiddling with your fingers again. You gladly continue the game as the defendant enters in chains, flocked by two guards.

However, no one wins. The trial is quickly over as the knave is soon found guilty of stealing fruit preserves from the royal kitchen. After the courtroom clears out and you and Chan exchange departing kisses, you retire to your chambers to get dressed for dinner while he goes off elsewhere to attend to more kingly duties.

You don’t see him again until you have finished your bath and the maids are pinning up your hair. Through the vanity mirror, you watch as he enters the bedchambers with his crown missing, hair mussed, and the top of his shirt unbuttoned.

“Hello, darling,” you call out, noticing his satisfied smile. “I see you enjoyed whatever it was that you were doing earlier.”

He gestures for the maids to leave, and they do so in a hurry. He walks over to you and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pressing his lips to your neck at the same time. Every part of you is hyper aware of his proximity when he mumbles, “I did.”

He protests when you lean away and weakly cite your delicate half-done updo. Despite his feelings, he gives you a kiss on your temple and goes to take his bath; dinner will be starting in an hour.

Unsure of what to make of Chan’s reply, you call the maids back in and sit like a statue while they finish your hair. Nari is wrong, you tell yourself. She doesn’t know a single thing about your husband.

Her accusations of him, however, swirl around in your head, and they are all you can think about when there are no more hair tugging and pin stabbings. When Chan emerges from his bath, whistling the cheery execution song, he grins at you and says in tune, “Have I mentioned you look beautiful in red?”

A different kind of chill washes over you, but you still reply back with a stiff smile. “Only every time I wear it.”

He walks over to you and wraps one arm around your shoulders. The scent of soap and cologne that you typically find so comforting is suddenly pungent and overpowering. You can see that his other arm is hidden behind his back, and you can’t look anywhere else.

“Here,” he says. He tucks a red-and-white rose behind your hair, and you jump a bit when you feel the dampness of the petals against your skin. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice these in the bath. They’re your favorite.”

“It’s been a long day,” you tell him. You abruptly stand up and nod to the door. “Should we get to dinner?”

He loops his arm around your waist and leads you to the dining hall. “Were those tarts not filling enough?” he teases. “Or are you just excited for the executions after?”

“I suppose both.”

The finale of court day is the last thing on your mind.

Dinner passes by in a blur. For the first time of the day, you actively look around for Nari and are shocked and disappointed when she doesn’t show up. Maybe you should have been kinder. You airily laugh at the jokes the aristocrats make and make a few of your own about the trials, but your mind and eyes go back to Chan. He sits at the head of the table and merrily cheers with others over another successful court day. You catch him gazing lovingly at you occasionally, and you don’t know what to think anymore.

Soon, the crowd gathers to the execution site outside where servants have set up chairs and lit lanterns. As promised, Chan lets you have the best seat in the house. You sit quietly while he changes into his executioner’s robes and while he is presented with his double-bladed axe.

The guards bring the criminals from the prison, their heavy chains clanging against one another. Four guilty verdicts, four heads to roll. You normally would be thrilled by this prospect, but tonight’s jubilation has been dulled. Nevertheless, you clap after each punishment and admire how clean the cuts are. The wooden chopping block soon drips with blood, and a metallic tang fills the air.

A servant comes to dispose of all the remains, and most of the audience turns to leave, but Chan still lingers around.

“There’s still one more execution left,” he announces. He wipes the blade clean and nods at the guards. “A very special one I planned in surprise for my wife.”

You hear the gasps before you can even process his words. You turn to find out what the fuss is about, and your eyes grow wide when you spot a familiar lily-white dress through the crowd.

“Darling,” you shakily ask, “what is this?”

Chan grins widely at you and readjusts the axe in his grip. “You’re going to be the queen of two kingdoms, sweet tart.”

The guards force your sister to stop in front of you, and Chan rips off the gag in front of her mouth. Nari doesn’t say a word, but the look in her eye says it all: “I told you so.”

“What is this?” you repeat. You wring your hands in the folds of your skirts and try to figure out what exactly is happening.

Your sister is about to be executed for unknown reasons, your husband seems rather nonchalant about the whole situation, and you suppose you are as well. With the chains manacled around her wrists and the guards standing behind her, Nari feels like just another criminal to be punished.

“For starters, you and I don’t like her,” Chan says, walking closer. He glances over at Nari. “She’s a terrible queen, and from what I’ve been told by my advisors, she’s too busy with pretending to be a queen to actually rule.”

“He’s a liar!” Nari spits out, flushing bright red at the allegation. “Don’t you forget that he has mistresses all over town and that you’re just another pretty plaything to him!”

The audience, having heard her accusations, gasps again, and a wave of whispers rolls through the crowd. You glance over at Chan to see his reaction.

He looks terrifying.

His usual cool composure is streaked with anger so hot, you can almost feel it radiating off of him. He thickly swallows, and his hand bearing the bloodstained axe starts to shake. His breathing turns ragged when he finally looks at Nari.

“You think that I would have an affair? You think I would be disloyal to her?” The next sentence comes out in a cold, calm breath. “I’ll execute you on that charge alone.”

“Wait!” you shout at Chan before he can drag her to the execution block. More quietly, you say, “Explain yourself. When you came into the room.”

His face softens as he realizes the implications of his earlier appearance. He cups your face with his free hand. “I was getting your sister taken to the prison. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t go on her own accord, so there was a bit of a scuffle. The guards took care of her later though. I could never be disloyal to you, Y/N.”

No pet names, no teasing. He’s dead serious.

You switch back to your sister, who is still clinging firm to her beliefs. Look at her steadfast expression! “You’re the liar,” you sardonically laugh. “You almost made me believe your lies! You… you almost turned me against my husband! And what for? Your own jealousy?”

“To protect you! And I was right too!” She sharply nods at the crowd of aristocrats. “Look at this madness! Court days and execution parties?”

“Like you don’t order the deaths of criminals yourself!” You motion for the guards to take her to the execution block. You hate her so much right now, and you can barely see past the haze of red overtaking your vision. “Goodbye, Nari.”

“So you’re just going to let him kill me?” she yells. She tries to grab your shoulders at the last second, but the guards pull her back. “He’s an awful man, killing me for such a petty reason! And you’re pathetic for standing by him!”

Pathetic.

It echoes in your ears, and you want to snatch the axe out of Chan’s hands and do it yourself. However, you instead bite out, “Shut up. It’s the least you can do to apologize to me.”

Chan cleans the blade with the cloth from Nari’s gag, and you watch as the white fabric gets painted with scarlet like your sister’s stupid notion about the roses. He raises the axe over her head, and the metal flashes in the lantern light.

You look your sister in the eye. “Off with your head.”

And off her head goes.

~ ad.gray

#stray kids #skz #bang chan #stray kids fic #skz fic #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids angst #skz angst #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fanfic #bang chan imagines #bang chan angst #stray kids au #skz au #20210408

[rocorambles]

Bonus Scene

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader x Iwaizumi 

Genre/Warning: NSFW, Yandere, Rape/Non-con, Dub-con, Edging, Overstimulation, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Sex Toys, Mindbreak, Manipulation

Summary: When Oikawa and Iwaizumi find out their team manager is a camgirl on the side, they realize just watching her on a 2D screen isn’t enough 

Requested by Anon

Exhausted and in post-coital bliss, it’s all you can do to sit up and flash a peace sign and smile at your webcam before saying goodbye to your viewers. As soon as your camera turns off you slump back down on sweat-soaked sheets and grimace as the tip of the dildo you had just used prods your back. You lie there for a minute, catching your breath before you look at your phone to check the time. With a muffled curse, you spring up, cleaning and putting your toys away and throwing on your Aoba Johsai tracksuit before racing out the door. The team had recently changed the time of weekend practices and unfortunately for you, it meant you barely had time to get ready after your weekly Saturday livestreams. But this was your most profitable session and you didn't want to lose followers or money by changing the time, so you just grit your teeth and dealt with it. 

You cheerily greet the team of white and turquoise clad boys as you enter the gym. The first and second years politely acknowledge you, while your fellow third-years more casually welcome you. Iwaizumi nods his head in your direction and Oikawa flashes you a smile before returning their attention to the court. Towels prepared and water bottles filled, you sit on the sidelines watching your team practice. You aren’t particularly good friends with anyone on the team and you’re not incredibly passionate about volleyball, but when the usually reserved Iwaizumi had come up to you in class one day and asked you to be their team manager since he knew you weren’t part of any other clubs, you agreed. It’s not like you didn’t have the time and you were a little flattered that Iwaizumi had even thought of you. Your reminiscing is cut off by a whistle and you stand up to provide towels and water to the sweat-drenched boys.

Practice ends and you all part ways. Oikawa walks home, excited to just shower and laze away the rest of the day. Freshened up and only in a towel slung around his waist, he sits at his desk, grateful for the fact that the house will be empty for at least a few more hours as he browses camgirl sites. Regular porn just comes across as crass to Oikawa. Why would he want to watch some unattractive male pound away into a girl? No, he much prefers watching pretty camgirls and focusing all his attention on their soft feminine curves, imagining it’s him inside them instead of whatever toy they’re thrusting into their wet cunts. He haphazardly clicks through links, but freezes at the current image on his screen. No, there’s no way...he clicks play and he’s stunned as your familiar voice fills his room. Have you always had so much sex appeal? It’s not that he found you unattractive, but he had purposefully not entertained the thought of you as anything other than their team manager for the team’s sake. But now, watching your chest rise up and down as you pant like a bitch in heat, watching the way your thighs clench as you play with your clit, he regrets trying to be a responsible captain.

Out of curiosity, he looks at the timestamp of the video and his cock twitches at the realization that you had filmed this minutes before practice today. He had thought you were limping a bit when he saw you earlier and he now understands why as he watches you desperately pistoning a realistic dildo in and out of your drenched heat. Without even realizing it, his hand begins stroking to the rhythm of your pumps and his eyes fixate on your face as you moan with your eyes rolled back. All he can hear is your sweet voice brokenly crying out above his pounding heartbeat and when you wail and arch your back as you reach your peak, Oikawa hisses as thick white spurts splurt from his throbbing length. He leans back in his chair physically sated, but nervous excited energy still thrums inside him at this new information he’s found out about you. He reaches for his phone and calls the first person he always goes to whenever he wants to talk about something. “Iwa-chan, are you free right now? Want to come over?” 

Iwaizumi grumpily sighs as he treks over to Oikawa’s house. He had literally just seen the other boy earlier at practice and if he wanted to hang out, why didn’t he just ask him when he had dropped him off at his house? Already irritated, he can feel his temple pulse in anger when Oikawa opens the door with a cheery “yoohoo!” and drags him to his bedroom. “Oi, Shittykawa, what’s the big deal? Stop pulling me!” Oikawa apologetically releases his grip, but ushers Iwaizumi to sit at his desk. Confused, Iwaizumi allows himself to be seated in front of Oikawa’s computer screen, but screeches at the sight of a nude female masturbating. “What the hell, Tooru? Did you ask me to come over here to watch porn with you? I’m leaving!” Eyes shut, Iwaizumi attempts to get out of the seat when strong hands on his shoulders prevent him from moving. “Iwa-chan, look more closely! Doesn’t she look familiar?” Hesitantly, Iwaizumi opens his eyes and scrutinizes the screen, but his face pales when he sees your familiar face now twisted in ecstasy. “Isn’t she pretty? Who knew our team manager had a hobby like this?” 

Iwaizumi hates the way he can feel arousal pooling in his stomach at the sight of you writhing as you hold a vibrator to your engorged clit. “W-we shouldn’t be watching this. It’s none of our business what she does in her free time,” he shakily stutters. But Oikawa smirks as he watches how Iwaizumi can’t tear his eyes from the screen. “Are you sure, Iwa-chan? Because it looks like your body disagrees with you.” Embarrassed, Iwaizumi covers his now fully erect shaft with his hands. Oikawa hums thoughtfully as they continue watching your stream together. “Don’t you want to see the real deal, Iwa-chan? Recordings are fine, but now I want to see our little manager-chan in person.” There’s a pause and Iwaizumi wrestles internally between what’s morally right and what he wants, but after a few minutes he speaks up. “What’s your plan, Shittykawa?” Oikawa smiles. 

You’re putting things away after another grueling practice when you hear someone enter the equipment room behind you. Turning around, you see Oikawa and Iwaizumi file into the small room and close the door behind them. Confused, you ask them if they need anything, but your heart drops when Oikawa shows you his phone screen and you see your latest livestream displayed. You’re already prepared to apologize and resign from the team, but Oikawa’s quick to dismiss your worries as he tells you that Iwaizumi and him just wanted to personally tell you they’re big fans of yours. Slightly embarrassed that the captain and vice-captain had found out about your side gig, you’re at least grateful that it’s them and not anyone else on the team. Both players had been nothing but respectful to you the entire time you’d managed the team and if you’re honest, a tiny flame of pride flares inside of you when you realize the two handsome athletes enjoy watching your recordings. 

You’re about to thank them for their support when Iwaizumi opens his mouth. “We were wondering if you’d be okay with us watching one of your streams in person,” he nervously asks. You stand shell-shocked at his words. The reason you enjoy being a camgirl so much is the safety and power you feel behind the camera, knowing countless eyes are on you from behind a screen, but never close enough to actually do anything to you. You stare at the two boys waiting for a response from you. Iwaizumi and Oikawa wouldn’t ever hurt you or do anything you didn’t want, right? You imagine green and brown eyes watching you. You imagine staring at them as you make yourself cum over and over again. With eyes hazed over with lust, you agree. 

It takes some time to coordinate. You agree a Saturday livestream would work best for all of you, but you need to patiently wait for one of the few weekends where the team doesn’t have practice. (There’s something a little mortifying about the idea of going to practice right after doing what the three of you are about to do.) Finally, one such weekend comes along and you take a deep breath as your doorbell rings before letting the two taller boys into your home. You lead them to your room where they situate themselves behind the camera so they won’t be seen and, shooting a little smile in their direction, you start the stream. 

Oikawa can feel himself salivate as you teasingly untie your silky robe and slowly slide it off to reveal a white lacy lingerie set. The duality of how angelic you look in the pure color versus what you’re about to do has his heart racing. Iwaizumi watches enraptured by the way your head leans back and your mouth opens as you knead your breasts in your hands, pinching your nipples every once in a while until he can see the pebbled bumps beneath the lacy fabric. You giggle and tease your viewers for being so impatient as the comments scream for you to take everything off, but you oblige and unhook your bra, tossing it to the side as you continue playing with your now bare chest. Oikawa licks his lips and imagines what it would feel like to suck on one of your already hardened buds as he begins to slowly palm his hardening cock. You lean back and spread your legs and Iwaizumi almost groans at the wet spot already forming and seeping through your panties. You slip a hand underneath the flimsy material and he watches you finger yourself as your eyes roll back. The room begins to fill with squelching sounds as you become more and more aroused and you finally slip off the now soaked fabric and both boys almost lose it when they see your drenched pussy on full display.

You reach over to your nightstand and grab a thick curved metal toy. Oikawa watches you slide the thicker round end inside your dripping heat, while Iwaizumi takes in every line of your face as you gasp at the feeling of cold metal sliding past warm walls. “It’s so cold, but it feels so good inside my pussy. AH-it rubs against my g-spot perfectly.” You’re panting heavily as you talk to your viewers and you begin to gently thrust the toy in and out of you, your eyes rolling everytime steel rubs against the spongy spot inside of you. You can feel yourself rushing towards your end and you pause your movements, pushing the toy firmly inside of you as we reach once more for your nightstand. The ace and setter groan at the sight of the huge vibrator aggressively whirring in your hands. They watch as your body contorts on the bed as you press the vibrations against your aroused nipples and they watch as drool begins to trickle out the sides of your gaping mouth as you trail the vibrator down between the valleys of your breasts, past your belly button, before finally landing on your puffy clit. Iwaizumi grits his teeth at the wail you release and he wishes he could hold your legs down as you twist and turn at the onslaught. They continue watching you move on the bed in front of them, but they stiffen when you look directly at them as you finally fall apart with a scream, squirting your juices everywhere. You keep the vibrator on you at a lower intensity as you pull the metal toy out of you and you moan as you suck it clean in your mouth, never breaking eye contact with the two guests in your room. Only when the first pangs of overstimulation hit you do you remove the vibrator and weakly sign off of your stream.   

You lay your spent body down on the bed and are about to say something to your visitors when you yelp as you feel hands roughly grab your thighs and spread them apart. Startled you try to sit up, but are stopped by hands pushing down your shoulders. Panic begins to swell within you as you stare up into chocolate brown eyes smiling down at you. “Thanks for the show, cutie. But it would be rude not to let us enjoy the real thing, right? You can’t just tease your guests like that.” His pout would have been cute in any other situation, but now it only triggers fear inside of you. “Let me go! I let you guys watch as friends. I don’t want this.” You sob as you feel Iwaizumi begin to push his cock inside you, stretching you far beyond what your toy had. “Fuck, she’s so tight even after cumming like a whore. I guess your toys can’t replace a real cock.” He groans as he finally sheaths himself completely inside of you and despite the anxiety eating away at you, your eyes roll back and you moan, already turned on and sensitive from your earlier actions.  

You feel Iwaizumi’s calloused hands hold your waist in a bruising grip as he starts a brutal pace and tears fall down your face from the pleasure and Oikawa’s humiliating words. “Do you like Iwa-chan’s cock that much? You’re moaning like a slut. Tell Iwa-chan how good he’s making you feel.” You bite your lips in an attempt to stifle your lewd cries, but Oikawa leans forward and begins to rub your clit and you can’t hold back the slew of pleasured moans that leave your mouth. Iwaizumi is filling you so well and his thrusts are stronger and deeper than anything you try and replicate with your toys. It’s not long before you feel another climax quickly approaching and you tense your body in preparation only for everything to suddenly stop. Frustrated and confused, you blearily look up at the two boys only to see them predatorily leering down at you. Oikawa coos at you as he brushes your hair from your face. “Tell Iwa-chan exactly what you want or you don’t get anything.” You spitefully ignore him and try to roll your hips, but Iwaizumi firmly holds you still and you almost scream at being denied. 

Pride and anger at being forced into this hold your tongue still and Iwaizumi tsks in annoyance as he begins to work your body up again. You try your best to push down the desire building inside of you, but you’ve always been so easy to rile up after you’ve already orgasmed and it’s not long before you feel yourself peaking again only for the thrusts to stop when you can almost taste your climax on your tongue. The cycle goes on a few more times until you’re sobbing in frustration and your will finally breaks. You can’t think of anything else other than Iwaizumi’s cock inside of you and cumming. “Iwaizumi, please make me cum. Please make me feel good. I want to cum so badly. Please please please…” You can’t even fully make sense of your slutty begging, but it’s good enough for Iwaizumi and he savagely tears into you again and again until both of you roll over a cliff of pleasure together.

You whimper as Iwaizumi pulls out of you and you sink into his hold as he lies next to you on the rumpled bed sheets and wraps his strong arm around your waist. You’re too tired to push him off and his body heat is comforting to you as you wade through the delirious afterglow. It’s only when you feel another body settling in between your legs that you try and muster the strength to move away, but Iwaizumi tightens his hold on you as he begins to bite and suck on your sensitive neck. Aroused and impatient after holding himself back for so long, Oikawa rams completely inside of you in one swift motion and your mouth opens in a silent scream at the overstimulation. You’re almost thankful for the way Iwaizumi’s arm keeps you grounded as your body tries to thrash around, unable to cope with the stings of pain and pleasure you feel with every movement of Oikawa’s hips. You can feel a rollercoaster inside of you creeping slowly to the top, but with a few more thrusts, Oikawa stills as he releases deep inside of you before you can go over the curve. 

You mentally recoil as you hear yourself whine for Oikawa to help you finish, but it’s like your brain has gone on autopilot and you can’t control the lust-filled pleas for more. Iwaizumi and Oikawa share a smile before Iwaizumi moves his hand and begins to tweak and fondle your nipples while Oikawa slides down your body until you feel air blow on your throbbing hole. You should be ashamed about the way you can’t stop begging and moaning as Oikawa devours your sopping wet cunt, but with just a few more licks, sucks, and tugs of your abused nipples, you come undone and you melt into the space between the two bodies now lying on either side of you. Your brain feels like mush and you can feel your eyelids growing heavier as fatigue consumes you. A warning bell deep inside of you faintly rings when you hear Oikawa’s voice say, “I can’t wait until the next time we do this, cutie”. But you’re so tired and you just let yourself pass out in the pair of toned arms embracing you.    

#haikyuu yandere #yandere haikyuu #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu smut #oikawa #oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa #iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #yandere iwaizumi #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu writing #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #tw: noncon #tw: rape

[spencers-dria]

Can you maybe write something where the reader meets spencer in prison and when they get out, they meet up and they have really rough and kinky sex like you can literally go as dirty and kinky as you want

Four Feet Apart

🎉150 follower celebration! Day 6

Spencer x fem reader

Content/Trigger Warnings: 18+ Smut, oral female receiving, anal play, blindfold/sensory play, and handcuff/restraint use, protected penetrative sex, mentions of murder, prison

The beginning is a little angst, little fluff, plenty of smut!

“Alright inmates, listen up! There’s been some budget cuts. For the time being, the old west wing building will be taken by overflow from the women’s prison.”

The guard’s voice was overtaken by wolf whistles and hollers.

“That’s enough! Now you will not share a building with them. You will not see them during meals. However the courtyards do share a fence. If you are caught harassing them in any way, you will be punished accordingly!”

The announcement had caught the attention of just about every inmate, except one. Spencer Reid had bigger problems to worry about than women. He didn’t get them outside of prison, so why should he worry about them on the inside. He needed to worry about how to stay safe, stay alive until his name was cleared. That is, until he met you.

_______________________________________

I sat on the bleachers, popping some bubble gum as I searched for some worthwhile eye candy. The sun was a bit hot so I shrugged my button down off my shoulders, opting to tie it around my waist, leaving me in a white tank. This of course leads to many wondering eyes and a few whistles from the men’s side of the fence. I’m not even sure what i’m looking for, but none of the men giving me the time of day have it. I finally notice a slender man sitting on the men’s bleachers, just a few feet away from the fence on his side. I scoot up , slipping my fingers through the women’s chain-link side. Of course I could never touch any of them, with each side having about four feet between their respective fences. But there were no rules against looking or talking even.

“Hey. Think too hard and you’re gonna mess up that pretty face of yours.”

He looks up a bit startled, but his posture changes once his gaze lands on me. He almost looks shy, which seems in direct contrast to his rugged look. But once I look in his eyes, I see depth and warmth and kindness that belongs far away from this place, and it hurts me for a moment, to think of what will happen to him here.

“I don’t bite. The name is Y/L/N. Got in for killing my ex husband. How about you?”

He blinked, speechless at first.

“Doc- I’m uh, Spencer Reid. They think I killed someone too…”

“Well, didn’t you?”

He shook his head. Based on the look in his eyes, I want to believe him I really do.

“Did you know that incarceration of women has been growing at twice the rate of men’s incarceration?”

“Now how in the world would you know that?”

He simply shrugged.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Just looked like you could use some company is all.”

He looked like he wanted to respond, he really did. But before he got the chance, the women were called back inside.

I give a quick salute. “Nice meetin ya Spencer Reid. See ya when I see ya.”

___________________________________________

The next time I saw him he looked different. Scared, fragile, and a bit bloodied up.

“Hey- what uh- I mean, are you okay?”

He refused to look up or give much of an answer. But he was sitting in the same spot, close enough for us to have another conversation so I have to believe he wanted to talk again.

“I’m guessing you’re relatively new. It happened to me too ya know. Especially when I wouldn’t just go along with everything they asked.”

That drew his attention, and I could see tears in his eyes.

“You can’t let them see they get to you, that you’re scared. I learned that long before I got here though. That’s why I killed him ya know- he hurt me and I couldn’t just take it anymore. Police wouldn’t listen. I just wanted it to stop.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I shrugged it off. I’m paying my time but I’m safer in here than I ever felt with him.”

“Can you keep a secret?”

Now he has my attention. I nod, trying not to seem too excited to be sharing schoolyard secrets with the handsome stranger.

“I uh, was in the FBI. I was framed by a, well you can almost call her an arch nemesis of sorts.” He laughed to himself. It was a warm sort of laugh that filled me with butterflies. “I was just trying to get medicine for my mom. She has Alzheimer’s and schizophrenia. She was getting worse and I-“ his words are quickly cut off by the sounds of sniffles.

“Why are you telling me this?” I don’t mean it to be rude, but I had to know.

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people and- you’re not a bad person. I trust you.”

In that moment, our eyes met again, but something new was there. Desire? Lust? Caring? Who knows. But that was the start of something. Of daily meetings, and quiet longing.

Day after day we would sit by our fences, sharing stories of our lives before prison. I learned that he was kind, hard-working, and actually quite funny. Spencer Reid was the best company I’d had in years, and not just within the prison walls.

He also told me about the rough time of it he was having on his own side. I gave him pointers where I could. How to get in with the right people, how to avoid the wrong ones, and how to get himself safe when necessary.

At one point, the politics on his side did endanger his life, and that’s when we came up with the plan together. A plan that would help take down the very man targeting him while getting Spencer somewhere safe for now. This meant I wouldn’t see him while he was in solitary, but we both knew it was necessary.

We never spoke about exactly what it was we wanted but- it was there. We devoured one another with our eyes. Biting and licking lips, drawn out breaths, and lingering gazes. We knew.

I watched him change overtime. His hair and beard grew yes, but so did this darkness in his eyes. The soft, Bambi-eyed boy was seemingly gone, replaced by a man who needed to hurt someone, anyone. And oh was I ready to let him hurt me.

I waited by the fence each day for his return, but it never came. I finally decided to ask around until I heard something that thrilled me but also left a huge gaping hole in me.

“He left.”

I couldn’t be happier for him. Had they cleared his name? From the sound of it, federal agents, friends of his had come to retrieve him. I could only hope that he was safe and happy.

Then one day I received a letter.

Dear Y/N,

I miss you. Just you. You made my time there worthwhile, worth missing. There’s so much more I wanted to say to you, and a letter just won’t do it justice. I have a feeling you’ll be out on parole sooner than you think. Come find me when you can. I’ll be in D.C..

Counting the days,

Spencer

____________________________________________

Parole? I had at least another year before that could even be a consideration. But I started counting too, which didn’t last long. Imagine my surprise when I got out on parole only two weeks after receiving the letter.

Did he- no he couldn’t, could he? Spencer had been gone for months. Clearly he had cleared his name, thank goodness. I knew I needed to see him as soon as possible.

I couldn’t leave the state, but luckily I didn’t need to. With what little I had, I made my way to D.C.. I figured I’d start out at the return address on the envelope, the one I clung to like my life depended on it.

With a bag slung over my shoulder, I raised my hand with the letter to hesitantly knock on the door, completely unsure of what to expect on the other side.

My mouth fell open at the sight before me. Spencer Reid in a cardigan, a tie? I had never seen him outside the prison. He looked so put together. And all I could think about was how much I wanted to tear him apart. I did my best to suppress my lust in hopes of a civil and normal greeting.

I don’t know what I expected. Tears, hugs maybe? We stood there staring at each other for who knows how long before I finally spoke. I’d had a well rehearsed speech in my head. One I’d had two whole weeks to work on since he sent the letter. But that all went out the window the second I saw his face again.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Who was I kidding? We could see it in eachother’s eyes, the same desire from before, but stronger somehow. Maybe because it was quite literally within reach. Months of daydreaming about what it would feel like to touch him, kiss him, get absolutely railed by him.

The man I had met initially was so gentle, timid. I watched him change in that prison. I had initially imagined ruining him, breaking him for my own pleasure. By the time he left I wanted something completely different. I wanted him to do the breaking. I wanted him to use me for his own personal pleasure. And he knew it.

He grabbed my face to pull me in for an all consuming kiss that quite literally took my breath away. I had to pull back, gasping for air before I could get any words out.

“Missed you too.” I smiled.

“Can we take this to my bedroom?” The words came out rushed, as though he might die if he couldn’t have me in that very moment.

I give an enthusiastic nod. A small squeal and uncharacteristic giggle leaves my lips as he scoops me up in his arms, whisking me away to his bedroom.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” he pants, frantically removing his clothes. “Can you get undressed and lay down on your stomach for me?”

I follow his orders without question. He leans down by my ear and asks one question. “Safe word?”

“Cherry blossom.”

“Anything off limits?”

I don’t even have to think. “No, I trust you.”

Next thing I know I feel soft silk over my eyes as he ties a blindfold in place. This allows me to focus on the sounds of whatever else he is preparing. I hear a distinctly familiar jingle of metal, which is confirmed as it touches the skin of my wrists. Handcuffs. I wiggle my hips in delight, which earns me a playful spank.

“Like what you see?”

“I definitely can’t complain.” I can almost hear his smirk.

His fingers dig into my hips before pulling them up in the air. I feel cold air hit my core immediately.

“Fucking beautiful.”

Without any warning I feel a finger coated in cool lubricant coating my other opening.

“Try and relax for me, beautiful.” His fingers run through some of my hair, dragging across the skin of my back and I feel my muscles immediately follow his command. I attempt to mentally and physically prepare for whatever could be coming next.

I feel him work in what feels to be a decent sized anal plug. I’ve tried them before but only by myself. I’m already enjoying the added stimulation. My hips jolt when he suddenly brings his head down to lick up through my slit and I can’t help but yell.

“Fuck!”

“Mmm you like that, dirty girl? You’re quite literally dripping for me.”

He says it so calmly, I can hardly wrap my head around how smooth he’s being.

“Yes sir, please!” I beg.

“Please what, hmmm? What do you need?”

“Need you to eat my pussy please sir!”

Damn I sound absolutely pathetic. To think I ever considered myself a feminist. So much for my leg up on domineering men. Here I am willingly let one take me, have me anyway he wants. And that’s just the way I want it too. For Spencer Reid, I would be anything he needed.

“Good girl.” The two words have me writhing in pleasure with the combined sensation of his tongue back on the place I need it most. He sucks and laps at me like I'm his favorite dessert . He reads my body like a book, every movement and moan. He knows just what I need, when to let up, when to push harder. It’s unfair just how talented his mouth is.

And then, I’m coming undone on that beautiful mouth of his. Too bad I can’t see it. But oh it’s all I can imagine as waves of pleasure wreck my body and he’s running his fingers down my back, squeezing my ass as he gets in his final victory licks.

There’s a distinct sound of a condom wrapper, and I appreciate the consideration. I feel him sit on the bed next to me, against the headboard perhaps?

“Come sit on my lap.” His voice is dark and commanding, and my body is already responding with a fresh dose of arousal.

“But I can’t see sir.”

“No excuses. Come sit on my lap or you won’t get to come again.”

Not only can I not see, but my hands are still handcuffed behind my back. Not to mention my knees are weak from my most recent orgasm. This oughta be interesting. I try to scoot on my knees towards where I had heard his voice, only to lose my balance once I bump into his legs. I fall face first into his lap. Not the worst position to be in. I hear a soft, dark chuckle above me.

“Poor pathetic thing, are you already too weak? Can you handle another one?”

I swear, I never knew I was into degradation and humiliation. I don’t even know if I truly am, it's just something about him, about Spencer, that turns me on with everything he does.

“Yes sir, please! Please I can handle it! Let me try!”

I feel his fingers grasp my jaw, pulling my face up till I’m sitting on my knees again. I can feel his breath on my face and I wish I could just lean in and feel his lips on mine. My wish is granted for just a second. I feel his plush lips brush against mine, but they’re gone just as quick.

“Pretty thing. Let me help you, hmm.”

His long fingers wrap around my hips and guide me till I’m sitting in his lap, one leg on either side.

“Do you think you can ride me without your hands for balance?

“Yes sir!” I nod with an embarrassing eagerness.

“Show me, baby.”

I raise up and with his guidance again, lower myself until he’s making sure my other hole is filled as well.

Each bounce against his lap is adding pressure against the plug, combined with the bump of his cock against my cervix. With no sight, I’m so in tune with every sensation, especially the way his fingers feel roaming every inch of my body. He’s pinch my nipples, grabbing my ass, tugging at my hair. I may have been the one begging but he was clearly just as desperate.

When he decided he needs more, Spencer grabs my hips and starts thrusting up into me at a completely

ridiculous pace.

“You look so pretty bouncing on my cock. See for yourself, little girl.”

Before I have time to realize what he means, his beautiful fingers are ripping the silk away from my eyes, only to be met with absolutely heavenly eyes. They’re golden, warm, filled with lust but also something kinder. They devour my body like I’m his goddess. I absolutely love watching him enjoy the view. He licks his lips hungrily as he watches my breasts bounce and the way he looks sliding in and out of me.

Spencer pulls me in so he can leave a trail of kisses along my shoulders and neck. I love the way my face feels buried in his soft curls, he smells of lavender shampoo and it’s intoxicating. When he pulls back he’s got a knowing smirk on his face.

“What?”

In seemingly one move, I’m off his lap, on my back, with my hands pinned over my head.

“But the hand cuffs? How did you-“

Instead of answering he silenced me with an all consuming kiss. We’re biting, sucking, moaning, on one another like animals in heat. I can’t help but feel sorry for his poor neighbors.

He keeps my hands pinned above my head while realigning himself ready to pick back up where he left off. Before I can even register what’s happening he’s pounding into me like it’s his fucking job.

“You feel that? You feel how perfectly I fill you up? So pretty with my cock in you. Fuck- you take it so well!”

Words are gone from my mind. I’m left with moans, tears, and one name. Spencer.

“Spencer!”

He lets go of my arms and they instinctively wrap around his neck as I use my legs around his hips bringing him close.

“I’ve got you pretty girl. I’m here. Be a good little thing and come for me. Come on.”

I’m wrecked, shaking and moaning, unsure if I’ll ever be able to stop. He’s right there with me, filling me up in the best way. The pleasure is intensified by the extra pressure from the plug. I cling to him for dear life as I ride off my high, enjoying the way he looks above me. He’s angelic with the light sheen of sweat causing his skin to glisten in the low lighting, the natural sparkle of his eyes, the way his curls fall in his face, the pretty pink lips softly parted as he pants.

He’s dominant but also so soft and kind with me. It's clear tonight he cared about my pleasure just as much as his own. Maybe I don’t ever have to let him go. Maybe we can just stay here, twisted up in one another, blissfully unaware of all our troubles and the world around us.

I’m embarrassed at how much I whine as he gets off of me and slips away into the bathroom. I don’t know why I was surprised when he returns with a warm washcloth and lotion. He’s cleaning me up, tending to my wrists and any other spots sore from friction, and removing the plug. All the while he’s littering my skin with gentle kisses, all along my back and shoulders, my hips, my chest, my face. I’ve never been so pampered.

“Are you okay?” His voice is sweet and smooth like honey, leaving me tingling in the wake of its sweetness.

“Never better.” I leave kisses across his knuckles and he gives me that look again, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

After some convincing, I get up to use the bathroom, returning to a very sweet looking boy waiting for me under the covers, looking up with puppy dog eyes. I see the man I first met in the courtyard months ago. The one that stole my heart. I slip into the spot next to him, and we tangle back together, skin against skin. It’s so warm, soft, inviting and I think I’ll stay forever.

#criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer x reader #prison reid #post prison spencer #spencer reid x y/n

[aziraphales-library]

Any fics where Crowley is intentionally mean to Aziraphale because of a spell or something he’ll or Heaven or perhaps a sorcerer did to him and Aziraphale can’t understand what’s happening

We seem to get this kind of request a lot, so please do check out the top links in our masterpost for lots more fics along these lines!

For now, here are more fics in which, for various reasons, Crowley is mean to Aziraphale...

The Night Of Time by NuriaSchnee (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley are about to take their relationship to the next level when Gabriel and Michael's wrath falls on them. To punish them, they implant a fake reality into Crowley's memory in which he becomes a proper demon for a while and hurts Aziraphale several times. However, they leave Azirapahale untouched and aware that none of it has been real.

It Hurts to Watch by crowby (M)

Crowley experiences visions, where he sees himself harming Aziraphale

Lethe by lyricwritesprose (T)

Crowley has lost his memory—the last six thousand years of it—and he would do anything to get it back. Beelzebub tells Crowley zie knows how to cure him. All he has to do is kill an angel.

The Secret by sad_cypress, translated by Woland (T)

Crowley is beautiful when he sleeps. His eyes that are usually full of icy cold and disdain are now closed, his features soften – and Aziraphale can almost see the former Crowley looking back at him with a tender smile. Crowley who didn’t enjoy needless sacrifice, didn’t approve of Hell’s methods, didn’t want Armageddon to come to pass.

Hell's Greatest Punishment by evilwriter37 (E)

Hell possesses Crowley and makes him hurt Aziraphale as a way of punishing him.

Fire in the Blood by Lurlur (E)

Heaven and Hell are in disarray, Earth is feeling the consequences.

Crowley is hit with a lust curse from a rogue incubus which triggers a series of events that he'll never be able to undo.

This fic features explicit rape and the aftermath. It is emotionally ugly. Look after yourselves.

Heed the tags and warnings on some of these fics, folks!

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #angst #hurt/comfort #manipulation #memory loss #heed the tags #mod d

[marybethsjournal]

Ummm hiya.. if I may be so bold can I request Charles Smith x f reader nsfw them doing the deed at Sean’s party behind on of the wagons

I’m sorry if it’s weird🥲

Not weird at all! This is my first time writing Charles, though, so let me know if this isn’t what you’re looking for and I will rewrite it!

Just Be Quiet (Charles x f! reader)

Word Count: 1680

Warnings: 18+, smut

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786193

Sean was finally back and you couldn’t be happier. After Blackwater, you had thought he had been a goner for sure. People in the gang had started to speak of Sean like he had passed, which made Karen flip out. You had spent many a late night comforting her, telling her that you were sure he was out there somewhere. It stung a little to tell her what you assumed to be a lie.

But the Irish Terrier was back and better than ever, cracking jokes, drinking, and trying his best to seduce Karen. Dutch had authorized the gang to throw a little party for him and you were more than glad to participate. Any celebration in these hard times of being hunted by the law was welcomed.

The party went on for several hours and involved lots of singing and drinking. You spent most of the party looking on from one of far sides of camp, keeping Sadie and Abigail company. You had always felt close to Abigail and since Sadie had joined the gang, you’d taken a shine to her too. Therefore, out of a sense of loyalty, you stood by their side instead of going off the rails like the other members of the gang. You couldn’t say that you hadn’t had a drink or two, though. You were glad that everyone was having a break from the stress of life and didn’t mind watching everyone enjoy their night. Besides, it was a little funny to watch your drunken friends sing a chorus or pretend they were Parisian ladies.

It was around midnight when Charles approached you and asked you to dance. You were over the moon, of course you wanted to dance with him, but you checked with Sadie to make sure it was alright first. Abigail had ran off to yell at John about something and if you left, Sadie would be all alone. Sadie gave you a small smile and assured you it was alright, you should enjoy your night. You and Sadie parted ways, her going to bed, and you being led by Charles to the wagon next to Abigail and Jack’s tent. It was close enough to the campfire to hear the gang singing out of tunes and laughing, but far enough away that no one was actually in your line of sight or could hear what you were saying if you talked softly.

Upon arriving at your destination, you immediately pulled Charles into a big bear hug. He was much stronger than you and could have pulled you off him if he wanted to, but instead he caressed your hair and told you that he had missed you. You looked into his eyes and knew that he was sorry about the last couple of weeks. Nothing bad had happened between you two, but everything had been so busy since Colter that you two had barely exchanged words. It had crushed you, but you understood. Charles had orders from Dutch constantly. Ever since the loss of Davey and supposedly Mac, a lot more things fell on Charles’s  shoulders.

None of that mattered anymore, though. Right here, right now, you were in his arms and that’s what you really cared about. You felt like you were going to cry of happiness when he told you he loved you and proceeded to cup your face in his big hands and kiss you gently. This was Heaven on Earth.

You were a bit clunky at dancing and so was Charles, truth be told. But it was still lovely, Charles twirling you around and softly singing to you. The moment felt so intimate, your hands on Charle’s shoulders and the two of you looking into each other’s eyes. You never wanted the moment to end.

“Come here, my dove. You look so beautiful tonight.” you blushed at the compliment and hugged him again like he wanted you to. How could you resist being in the arms of your big, strong man?

The moment, which was meant to be wholesome, took a turn when you pressed a little too close to him and felt that he was hard. You became acutely aware of just how long it has been since the two of you had been with each other. And now you were thinking about it, you couldn’t think about anything else.

“I’m sorry, love. Didn’t mean to ruin our moment.” Charles, knowing that you had noticed, told you apologetically.

“No I- I want it.” you looked up at him, cheeks flushed.

Charles was taken aback. “Soon. Once we can get out of here, maybe we can get a room at the hotel tomorrow.” But even as he said this, his eyes were glazing over in lust.

“Why not here? Nobody’s looking.” you practically begged him.

Charles hesitated, he was rather shy and didn’t want to get caught. But when you began palming him through his pants, it became too much for him.

“Okay, just try to be quiet. I love your moans but I really don’t want anyone to hear.” he warned as he lowered his pants, not completely taking them off in case he quickly needed to pull them back on.

You weren’t as worried so you let your skirt drop onto the grass and pulled off your bloomers quickly. You weren’t worried about too much foreplay tonight, just wanted it quick and fast. There’d be plenty of time for everything else another day.

Charles whistled at you when you turned around to face him, naked from the waist down. “That’s my girl.” The words never failed to make you go red in the face.

Charles turned you around and lifted your right leg onto the wagon wheel. You could feel his hot, heavy breath on his neck behind you and wanted nothing more than you to fuck you mercilessly, but Charles wasn’t that kind of man. He always prepped you beforehand no matter how horny he was. It made you more desperate and needy in the moment, but in the long run, you were more than grateful for it. Charles was very large and thick and fucking you unprepped would surely hurt.

You looked back at Charles as he stuck two of fingers in his mouth to coat them before pushing his digits into you, slowly at first, but in a faster rhythm as he began to open you up. You moaned softly, trying to remember to keep it down, and took his dick in your hand. You began to move your hand back and forth, attempting to keep the same rhythm that he was using to finger you. You couldn’t help but keep your head turned to him, you loved to watch his face in concentration when he was pleasuring you. 

After a few minutes of you pressing back on him and fucking yourself on your fingers, you had absolutely soaked his fingers. He praised you quietly, telling you how good you were doing, before pulling his fingers out of you and positioning himself behind you.

“Fuck, please, Charles.” you would have gladly begged more but Charles didn’t have it in him to tease you tonight. He kissed your neck as he pushed himself into. 

You groaned at the sheer size of him. Even having prepped you, it still took a moment for you to adjust to him. Never one to be lost on how to make you feel good during the whole experience, Charles rubbed your clit and whispered in your ear about how good you were for him. God, your brain was going fuzzy already.

Soon enough, you became used to his size and gave him the go ahead to begin thrusting into you. You didn’t have to tell him twice. He repeated his method he had done before with his fingers, thrusting slow at first but faster as you became needier. You couldn’t look back at him anymore, you couldn’t take it. You threw your head back and enjoyed the moment. You were moaning a little louder than you should have, but Charles seemed to have forgotten that he had instructed you to stay quiet because he didn’t stop you. In fact, the man was letting out grunts louder than he probably should have, too. He grabbed your waist roughly and began pounding into you, faster than he normally did. He liked to take his time with you when he could, but it had been a couple of weeks and you both needed this so bad. It felt so good already, you thought that maybe you could come from just this, but when you thrusted into you in just the right spot, you knew you’d be in for soon enough. It didn’t take long before Charles, reduced to various primal grunts, began rubbing your clit again, faster than he had before. You knew he must be close and Charles, being the considerate partner he was, always wanted you to come first. You focused on him pounding into you and the feeling, trying to give him what he wanted. Before the feeling in your core became too much, though, Charles thrust into you a final time, finishing deep inside of you. Feeling this was the final straw and you orgasmed hard on his dick, whimpering his name as softly as you could manage (which actually wasn’t all that soft). He helped you ride out your orgasm before pulling out of you, leaving you feeling empty. 

He gave you a deep, romantic kiss as you were trying to put your skirt back on. He offered for the two of you to go take a walk but you laughed and took a raincheck on that one, informing him that you’d better go to bed seeing as you probably wouldn’t be able to walk all that well for the rest of the night.

“I do wish we could properly spend the night together, though. Ending the night going our separate ways isn’t exactly the way I like things to go.” You told him, a little sadness seeping through your voice.

“One day.” he promised.

#charles smith #nsft #charles smith x female reader #Red Dead Redemption #rdr2 #rdr2 fic

[angryschnauzer]

Stuck - Steve Rogers edition

A/N: By popular request, and i thank everyone that messaged me and sent me asks if i would consider releasing a second edition of ‘Stuck’ but with a Marvel character, i give you ‘Stuck - Steve Rogers edition’.  (You can read the Henry Cavill character ‘August Walker edition’ here.) In future i will consider dual-releases of more stories, where the narrative works for various fandoms. If there is any of my back catalogue you would like to see written as a different fandom, drop me an ask!

Summary: You are Steve Rogers maid, and when you are changing the sheets on his massive bed your hand gets stuck between the mattress and headboard. Upon finding you in that predicament Steve takes control of the situation, however it doesn’t mean you get unstuck any time soon. (Based on a pornhub video i saw at 2am a few nights ago)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Maid Reader (no race or size described) Fandom; Chris Evans, Marvel, Captain America

Warnings; NSFW, 18+, Dub-con, Fingering, groping, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, size kink, breeding kink, boob play, anal fingering, double penetration, spanking, spying/stalker behaviour, surveilence, voyerism, unauthorized recording of a sex act, not-great aftercare (he tries), slight dom/sub, the start of a ‘sugar daddy’ arrangement, Daddy Kink (this version DOES contain it).

I do not operate a tag list, however please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. That way you’ll get an alert every time i post anything. Masterlist can be found on AO3 link HERE

Stuck

 Ringing the doorbell, you stood anxiously on the doormat outside the expensive apartment, listening for approaching steps but hearing none. So when the door suddenly opened you let out a tiny yelp of surprise, before taking a deep breath to steady your racing heart;

 “Good afternoon Captain Rogers”

 The giant of a man stood in front of you, recognition quickly passing over his face when he saw your uniform of black dress and simple black ballet flats;

 “Oh yes, the maid. C’mon in”

 You worked for a high security housekeeping company, strict controls and stringent background checks as you were contracted to the Avengers and the agents and staff that worked for Shield. You always worked on an ad-hoc basis, only visiting homes when clients or agents requested it. This was however the fourth time cleaning Captain Rogers apartment, always having to work around suitcases littering the halls and various weapons being cleaned and serviced on the kitchen table. 

 Holding your pail of cleaning supplies you waited as he shut the door, talking at you rather than to you;

 “Okay so here’s what you need to do today; clean the bathroom and kitchen, vacuum the rugs throughout, change the bedding and leave in the laundry hamper”

 You nodded;

 “Sweeping throughout too sir?”

 “No need, the Roomba does the smooth floors, it just can’t get onto the deep pile rugs” he hooked an earbud into one ear; “I’m going out for a run, I’ll be two hours”

 Swallowing nervously you nodded, watching as he hooked the other earbud in and left without another word, leaving you staring at the white wood of the door after he’d closed it. 

 Captain Rogers both scared and excited you. A beast of a man, he was all muscle, and each time you had visited he had excused himself so not to be there whilst you were. The fact that he was always in a t-shirt two sizes too small on and running shorts that did nothing to hide any part of him had you stretching your concentration to its limits in order to get your job done and not drift off into a fantasy land that you saved for when you were curled up in your own bed.

 Getting to work you started on the kitchen, stacking the dishwasher with the various dirty crockery that littered the room, cleaning the surfaces, sink, stove. Next up you hit the rugs, working quickly as you vacuumed, before heading to the bathroom. 

 Taking a deep breath you opened the door and relaxed. Cleaning bathrooms for single men were what you always dreaded, but at least as you started to cleanse every surface including the toilet, you realised that the Captain thankfully had good aim.

 Half an hour later you wiped your brow on the back of your arm. Captain Rogers bathroom had in fact been a nightmare, the man shed more hair than a fucking Golden Retriever. Washing your hands and glancing at your watch, you saw that you had fifteen minutes left of the two hours, taking a deep breath before grabbing the clean linens from the closet.

 Captain Rogers bedroom was white. There was no personalisation, no trinkets. Slipping your ballet flats off you climbed onto the bed, mentally taking in the sheer size of it; it must be a super king if not larger. Your mind immediately went south, imagining him fucking on the bed, sprawled out as you straddle his face - you had always wondered what that beard felt like against your skin - and you ride his tongue, or him pile driving you into the mattress, his hard body pressing against every inch of you as he fills you.

 Moving up the bed you tugged on the sheet, cursing as it wouldn’t pull out from between the mattress and headboard. With a huff you shuffled forward, pushing your hands down between them, tugging on the expensive white cotton. Pushing your arm down a little further you could just about feel that it was caught on something, moving to pull back and then it happened… you were stuck.

 “What the...?” you muttered, realisation hitting you that your watch had slipped into the gap and was now preventing you from pulling your arm out. You could feel your heart rate increasing as you struggled to set yourself free, pulling against the strain but it did little to help.  You pushed and pulled and grunted, hiking your dress up so you could widen your stance on the bed, but nothing worked. You frantically looked around to see the time, yet there wasn’t a clock or display in sight, and you could hardly look at your watch. If you didn’t get out of there soon Captain Rogers…

 “Well isn’t this a pretty sight…”

 No. Please no. Oh god no. You screwed your eyes shut, the heat of embarrassment rising to your skin;

 “I’m stuck” you whispered, letting out a yelp when you felt the bed dip behind you, feeling his hands gently resting on your hips;

 “Unfortunate for you, maybe not so for me...”

 -

 Five minutes ago.

 Steve sat in the small room, staring at the laptop screen in front of him. As ideas went, this was both his best and worst idea yet. Installing hidden security cameras in his apartment had been at first simply for security whilst he was away on missions, but he’d found a secondary use for it once Shield had recommended your employers as a maid service. He hadn’t been expecting someone as pretty as you, you had this look of innocence about you that made him just want to corrupt you and ruin you. He may be a bastard but he wasn’t a heathen, so instead of just turning on the charm offensive he had found an abandoned room in his apartment building and set up a small surveillance center. One with a chair, a laptop, a bottle of lube and a box of tissues. 

 Steve Rogers had just spent the last two hours edging himself as he watched you bend over in that knee length dress, adjusting camera angles to see up your skirt as you bent over. Steve Rogers was one step away from full on pervert. And he had no regrets at all.

 That was until he saw you on his bed, and realised you were trapped. Temptation got the better of him, so stuffing his hard dick back into his running shorts, he quickly left the room and silently made his way back to his apartment. 

 He entered and could smell the pleasant scent of the cleaning fluids you’d used, the quiet grunts as you tried to free yourself from your predicament. Toeing off his sneakers he silently made his way through the hallways, suppressing a groan as he saw you on his bed; ass up face down, the fabric of your dress stretched over the tops of your thighs, the fabric moving as you moved to expose glimpses of your buttocks. He pressed a hand over the obscene bulge in his shorts before moving to the bed.

 -

 “Captain!” you squeaked out in surprise; “You’re back… umm I’m stuck, my watch… I can’t get my wrist back through the gap between the headboard and the mattress”

 “Oh… what a shame. Let me help…”

 You were expecting him to move around you, but instead he covered your body with his own and grasped your arms. Your mind was lost as you took in how his massive hands could completely circle your wrists, the weight of him above you almost suffocating, and when he started to tug you knew you were done for. 

 The gentle rocking of your bodies, rubbing against one another was all it took for a moan to leave your mouth involuntarily, the feeling of his hard dick rutting against the crease of your ass making you embarrassingly wet almost instantly. He grunted above you;

 “Huh, well that didn’t work…”

 Pushing himself up he knelt behind you, still pressing his hard-on against your ass as his hands gripped your hips and he tugged gently, however all he did was pull you back against his crotch;

 “This fabric is slippery, hang on a second…”

 Pressing your head to the bed you felt him flip your skirt up, hearing a sharp intake of breath behind you as he took in the bright red thong you were wearing beneath your dress. His warm hands smoothed over your buttocks before gripping onto your hips and half-heartedly tugging again. 

 It was no good, you were too turned on to even object. You’d lusted after your client for weeks, and now you found yourself in this predicament which it was obvious he had no intention of helping you with, but instead had other ideas that you had no desire to object to. You were rocking back against his dick, the quiet moans escaping your throat telling him you were more than into it, so when you felt his fingers curl around the elastic of your underwear and tug them down to your mid-thigh, all you could do was arch your back and present your pussy for his inspection. 

 Thick fingers parted your folds, teasing your nectar to your aching clit where a thumb rubbed hard circles against the sensitive bud. His other hand was lost from you for a moment and you could feel him moving, before you felt the thwack of his heavy dick against your ass. 

 With your hand trapped and your body stretched out you could barely look over your shoulder, but when you did you could see the impressive bulk of your clients body towering over you, the sight making your cunt clench with anticipation.

 “Excited, are we?”

 “Please Captain…”

 “Please what?” You moaned and his quiet chuckle filled the room; “You gotta say it”

 “Please fuck me”

 “Eager little thing, aren’t we?”

 “Please Daddy…”

 “Well, as you asked so nicely…”

 He took hold of his dick and dragged the bulbous tip through your folds, dousing himself with your juices before lining himself up with your entrance. When you felt him push just the tip inside you it felt like you were being split open, he must be as thick as your wrist, and as he continued to force his way into your body it felt like he was the length of your forearm.

 “Such a good little slut, taking my dick…” his voice filled your senses as your body fought to relax and allow him deeper, your juices running down your legs where he would rock back and forth to lubricate his girth before pushing another punishing inch in to you. 

 Your velvet walls parted yet gripped him tight, and you could feel every ridge, bump and vein as he started to fuck your tight pussy. With every pull and push your head swam, your body moving back to meet his thrusts as his massive hands gripped onto your hips and he started to slam into you harder and harder. When his hand came down onto your ass the loud smack surprised you just as much as the pain, but you arched your back even more like a bitch in heat. 

 He reached beneath you, tugging at the neckline of your dress with both hands, before the seam of the collar broke and the soft jersey stretched enough for him to tug the fabric down. His fingers caught in the lace cups of your bra, and whilst still plunging deep into you from behind, he was able to let your titties swing free and he grabbed a handful;

 “Such pretty tits. Next time you clean I want you in just your underwear so I can watch them swing. Might get you scrubbing the floors so I can see you bent over and ready for me”

 You shuddered at his words, he already paid a premium for your services, and the electronic tip that he’d sent through had been more than generous, the last visit alone you had been surprised by the triple figures, but more than grateful that you were able to pay the bills.

 His hands had found their way back to your ass, smoothing over the soft skin as he continued to fuck you, the wide ridge that ran along the underside of his length rubbing so beautifully against your g-spot, you were sure you were going to cum soon. 

 He pulled your cheeks apart and you felt him spit on your asshole, the warm liquid pooling for a moment before his thumb started to rub insistently over the brown rose. Burying your head in the soft sheets you allowed your body to relax as he breached your back door with his thumb, the wide digit stretching you as he pushed in as far as he could;

 “This ass is incredible. I can’t wait to fuck it”

 You let out a tiny yelp at the idea of trying to fit his massive cock in your ass;

 “Captain!”

 “Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you’re stretched out first. Might want to add a plug to the uniform list for next time, make sure you’re ready lubed and stretched for me. But don’t you worry your pretty little head, this time I’m just going to cum deep in this sweet pussy of yours. Are you on birth control? Are you ripe?”

 You hadn’t even considered birth control. Your insurance had stopped covering you a couple of years back, so when you had gone on the occasional date that had ended up between the sheets, you’d simply resorted to condoms;

 “No… no…”

 “Oh yes. I’m going to cum deep inside you, let my seed rest within your womb. God, I’d love to see your belly round with my child, I bet your tits would be even more impressive. Hmmn yes, that’s fucking perfect…”

 You hadn’t thought it possible, but all that he said was turning you on even more, and it wasn’t just you that liked the idea, you could feel him swell within you, his girth growing thicker as his arousal grew. The added stretch was driving you closer and closer to your own orgasm, the dual stimulations of your pussy and ass both being filled had you trembling with need.

 “Are you going to cum for me?” his voice was hoarse and dry, an edge of desperation to it too; “I’m close, gonna shoot my load in you soon. You’d better cum before I do ‘cos once I’m done I’m pulling out and will leave you dripping with my seed and on edge…”

 The threat of being left on the precipice was enough to push your body over the edge, cumming hard as your body held him so tight he thought he wouldn’t be able to pull out. The vice like grip had him throwing his head back as your body milked him, his own orgasm ripping through his body that he came with a roar and a string of expletives. 

 -

 Steve wasn’t sure if he had ever cum that hard before, but the way your body gripped him so tight he was in no doubt that your pussy was the best he’d ever had - and he’d had a lot - and he knew without a doubt that he was not going to let anyone else ever come near it again.

 As he slowed his thrusts and let you work through the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, he mentally checked off all the things he’d been checking up on; from the details of your financials, your family and education, your social media. He had seen all of them. He had your phone tapped and knew that he was going to be installing spy cameras in your apartment… that was until you agreed to be his. 

 Looking down at your ass he pulled his thumb out of your now loosened asshole, making sure to catch the way it winked as he recorded on his phone, having pulled that out of his pocket soon after he’d started and had recorded himself defiling your body. Giving your ass a smack he relished how the camera picked up the jiggle as the force rippled through you, before grasping a large handful of ass as he pulled out and watched his cum pool at your entrance, before pushing it back in with two thick fingers. Tugging your underwear up your legs from where they had settled around your knees, he made sure the flimsy red mesh covered your hole, quickly getting soaked with his seed as he pushed the fabric against the mess to fully coat it. 

 Finally he shut his phone off and reached towards the headboard, giving it a tug and feeling it lift, watching as you silently pulled your hand free before collapsing on the bed. He carefully unbuckled your wristwatch before rubbing at the sore skin, easing away the chafed skin. He set your hand down carefully and quickly left the room, returning a moment later with a glass of water and holding it to your lips as he helped you sit up. 

 Setting the empty glass on the side, he rubbed your back before attempting to fix your torn collar, finally giving up. He swiped a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the mascara tear stains;

 “Next week you’ll need to be in your underwear and heels. Make sure the plug is well lubricated. I’ll have everything delivered to your address”

 You went to object, to question how he would even know, but then realised… Shield… of course he knew. You pushed yourself to the edge of the bed, finding your shoes and slipping your feet in, standing on wobbly legs as he spoke again.

 “Do as I ask and I’ll let you stay the night so I can fuck your other two holes as well”

 Turning you nodded;

 “Yes Captain”

 “Oh, you can call me Daddy now, I did so like that little slip you made in the heat of the moment” he turned to leave the room before waving his finger at the pile of fresh linen still folded at the end of the bed; “Remember to finish up before you leave”

 He left the room without another word. You went to object, but just as you did you felt the phone in your pocket vibrate. Quickly checking it your eyebrows practically shot off the top of your head, seeing the tip transfer come through for $2000. Biting your lip, your thumb hovered over the accept/decline buttons, the moral dilemma tearing your mind in two.

 -

 In the hallway Steve watched his phone. He could see that you’d received the notification of the tip. When he saw your action on the app he smiled and slid the phone back into his pocket, already planning your next visit.

PART 2 >>>

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you #chris evans #captain america x reader