#And she was like please.... elaborate on the teeth thing

[the-cooler-king]

I think im going to get a satyr from God of war 1 on my leg. I hate them so much, they make me want to cry whenever I play the game. 👌

[xfgpng]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 …

— [ nsfw ] : threesome, jealousy, smut, fingering, DP

— wc : 2.1k

the n109 zone often hosts these elaborate auction events and y/n is no stranger to it. ever since meeting sylus, she was invited to join him as his plus one on more than one occasion and she was quite used to the way the people acted.

they seemed to enjoy flaunting their wealth and flashing their very expensive watches as if she didn’t have the richest man standing by her side, a man they all feared and well, some admired and some … didn’t have such innocent intentions when thinking about him.

not that y/n cared all that much. she wouldn’t lie and go as far as to say she wasn’t jealous but she was reminded enough times just how loyal the other man was to her and besides, he wasn’t the only one who adored her so much.

taking a seat alone at the bar, she couldn’t help but grin as she called over the bartender. he was immediately interested, sending her flirtatious smiles and making sure to touch her hands on purpose every time he spoke.

“good evening”

“i hope we aren’t interrupting you”

taking a seat on either side of her, sylus glared at the bartender while rafayel leaned in to place a soft kiss on her exposed shoulder. she did look very beautiful this evening, dressed in a lovely dress gifted to her by the man himself.

who knew red and purple would go so well on her.

she was also wearing a very expensive piece of jewellery from sylus, a piece everyone in the n109 zone wanted to get their hands on but knew better than to approach her when she was occupied.

“now sweetie, did we leave you alone so you can get up to mischief?” sylus frowns, finally looking down at her. from his vantage point, she could look down the front of her dress and see her pretty lace bra. she really was a pretty little thing.

“am i not allowed to have a drink?” she asks innocently, “you both had business to attend to and i got lonely”

“you’d be a distraction” rafayel takes her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. sylus places a firm hand on her thigh, gripping just shy of painful. “we didn’t mean to leave you alone darling”

“i was entertained enough” she grins, leaning closer towards sylus when he leans over to take a sip of whatever she had ordered.

“would you like to join us next time?” sylus offers and he grins when her eyes light up. y/n didn’t like to be left out of the loop. she was a fighter and could handle anything.

she was certain her everyday job as a hunter was far more dangerous than dealing with a few idiots who loved to gamble and sylus did teach her everything she needed to know about poker.

he slides his hand further up her thigh and maintains eye contact as he taps the bar. he was ready to have a drink of his own.

“you always smell so good” rafayel whispers, kissing the side of her jaw. he was right, she did but so did he.

“did you miss me that much?” she teases. it had only been an hour since they arrived and their meeting with the owner of this club only lasted 10 minutes. the night was still young.

“i miss you all the time” rafayel says, now lightly grazing his teeth against her pulse point. she huffs but it turns into a soft moan when sylus squeezes her thigh.

“god you’re so beautiful” she hears him groan, taking a sip of the strong liquor he seemed to enjoy. she liked to dress up of course but she loved having all their attention on her even more.

“yeah?” she smiles softly, “you should see the rest of it”

rafayel groans and bites her shoulder in retaliation.

“tease” he scoffs before sitting up right and ordering himself a drink too. y/n was interested to see how long the two of them could wait before they were dragging her back to sylus’ place.

she bit her lip at all the possibilities before leaning forward to finish her own drink. she was a lot more patient than they were and it looked like sylus still wasn’t too pleased with the friendly bartender.

she leans back again and gasps, forgetting about her little gift she prepared. she felt a little more sexier tonight and she had rafayael to thank for that. the dress was long and silky smooth. so soft against her skin and the shoes she wore made her legs look great.

she decided to reward them both for their hard work and added a few extra presents. she started with the perfume. it was their favourite on her and a little body glitter.

then came the very sexy and over priced lingerie she bought with sylus’ card. the man didn’t even ask questions but she knows her saw the price on his phone and he was definitely curious. then the cute little plug she got from sylus. he had it made with a beautiful gem stone, a mix of deep red and purple, no doubt because of their eyes.

he was a sentimental pervert like that and she loved it, even though she pretended to be appalled by it.

normally she liked having one of them prep her. they seemed to enjoy it a lot more than she thought and she let them have their way with her but after a long and tiring week, she wants to let loose and she wasn’t in the mood to wait to be able to take it.

she wanted it the moment she was alone with them again and she always got what she wanted.

“you okay over there sweet thing?” sylus raises a brow. she wasn’t a lightweight and she hardly drank so her being a little flushed had nothing to do with alcohol.

“yeah” she breathes, “just fine”

the plug was a lot bigger than a normal one but then again so was he and rafayael wasn’t exactly on the smaller side either so she had to be prepared.

“you’re squirming a lot” rafayel chuckles, “are you that eager?”

“well.. not exactly” she lies, keeping her voice low, “it’s just a little bigger than the ones you usually make me use”

she sees sylus clench his jaw and rafayel’s eyes widen just a fraction before he narrows them.

“y/n” rafayel whispers, back in her personal space again, “you’re a little tease and you do this shit on purpose”

“is that why you let that fool flirt with you?” sylus asks, “you intend to rile us up this evening?”

“i did no such thing” she lies again, smiling far too sweetly at them both.

“we’re done here” sylus stands, “put it on my tab”

“y-yes sir!”

sylus scoffs and takes her hand.

“you want a fucker who can’t even speak properly to fuck you like i do?” he laughs but it doesn’t sound good, “i’ll show you”

sylus gently pushes her into the back of the limo as rafayel climbs in the other side. she tries to hide her excitement as rafayael tells the driver to wait outside.

“i hate to ruin this dress darling but we can always replace it” rafayel says before he’s tearing the material off her body. it should not be as hot as it is but she moans anyway, grabbing onto his shoulder as sylus tosses the remaining pieces of silk somewhere behind him.

they both take a moment to appreciate the lingerie set. it would be a shame to ruin it and sylus aches to rip it off her body but he can also tell she put a lot of thought into their gift tonight.

“all this, just for us baby?” he asks, kissing her neck as he cups her breasts. the lace feels so good against her skin and she moans, legs spreading on instinct when rafayael moves to sit between them.

“you look good” rafayel smiles, it’s a genuine soft smile that doesn’t feel appropriate for the situation but she doesn’t care. she’s happy they like it.

“i do love what’s underneath way more so..” he grins, sliding the panties off slowly before shoving them into his back pocket. normally she’d call him a pervert but she’s too focused on the way she’s staring at her pussy.

nestled between her wet folds is the plug. she must’ve been a little uncomfortable and horny since she put it inside her and the images of her fingering herself in nothing but the lacy black bra and high heels has him twitching in his pants.

sylus reaches down and brushes against her clit. kissing her before she can moan too loudly again. they were selfish that way, not wanting anyone else to hear her pretty sounds.

“fuck” rafayel bites the inside of his cheek as he pulls the plug out slowly before pushing it back in. they don’t seem to mind the mess she’s making on both their pants and when she hears a zipper, she squeezes tightly around the toy.

“there will be no taking it slow” sylus tells her, “you’ll take us both and then when we’re home, we’ll take our time okay?”

she didn’t know sylus to be this impatient. he was usually the one teasing her and riling her up until she was begging.

“he asked you a question my love” rafayel says, “you remember your words don’t you?”

“yes” she gasps, “i do”

“good girl” he praises, “let me test you out first”

she nods, gripping sylus as rafayel pulls the toy out. it should be dirty the way he puts it in his house but she moans at the sight.

“fucker” sylus chuckles.


sylus uses the hand not playing with her breast to spread her folds for rafayel. he slips 3 fingers inside her and it’s still too tight. he works her open like that for a while, wanting to make her cum at least once before they fucked her.

she was always their first priority and they’d never purposely hurt her unless it was something she asked her.

“please” y/n begs, back arching as he works a 4th finger into her. she clamps down around his fingers as she cums. rafayel kisses her as she comes down from her high.

she isn’t sure when it happened but she feels herself being lifted up and then she’s sinking down onto sylus. it burns so good and she cries out in shock. she was still sensitive from her previous orgasm but she hardly has time to breathe before rafayel is sliding in with him.

it’s so deliciously tight that she finds herself cumming again just from that. she almost screams but sylus is quick to kiss her, holding her waist.

“fuck” sylus groans, “fuck baby, stop squeezing like that”

“sorry” she whines, eyes crossing as she grabs his shoulders. she’s sure that’s going to leave a nasty mark but he never seems to mind, often encouraging it.

they didn’t do this often. none of them wanting to hurt her or push her beyond her limits. they didn’t mind taking their sweet time playing with her body but they were all a little too worked up and she was preparing for it tonight.

rafayel bites down on her shoulder, holding onto her waist just above where sylus’ hands are and she should feel a little ashamed but she doesn’t.

“please move” she begs, moving her hips on her own.

“dirty girl” rafayel whispers, thrusting very slowly as both him and sylus find the perfect rhythm inside her.

she hides her face in the crook of sylus’ neck as the begin to fuck into her harder and faster. she can feel the limo moving with them and she has a little bit of sense to be embarrassed. it wasn’t like they parked far from the entrance and the driver was right outside.

“so good” sylus says right into her ear, “you make us feel so fucking good baby, just you”


she bites down onto his shoulder as she wraps her arms around his neck. it feel good, better than usual and she wonders if it’s because they’re both so worked up.

rafayel spanks her hard before gripping her fat of her ass. he could never get used to being inside y/n, even if sylus is here with them. it feels good, everything about her was just so perfect.

“i’m close” she warns, eyes squeezing shut at how quickly she seems to be reaching her peak tonight.

she doesn’t see them sharing a look over her shoulder before they both stop moving.

“wh-why?” she cries out, looking up so fast that she almost gets whiplash.

“you’re just so pretty like this” rafayel sighs, thrusting lightly, “so we’re going to start again, be good”

she wants to protest but they start up a new rhythm, slower than the last but still so good it makes her toes curl.

“there you go sweetheart” sylus moans into her ear, “just like that”

[astralnymphh]

been having ellie williams eating pussy fixation lately, with references to a breeding kink (on readers side).. and breeding denial (on ellie's side).. self-indulgent tbh. witerally just a quickly written drabble. might elaborate another time. [ellie img from claymorrr on pinterest.] here we go! ☆

"E-Ellie— fuck, need 'ur fingers."

An airy sea, darksome and stuffy, eats the glass behind your thin curtains. In turn, the nooks that escape even the most most lurid of light in daytime, have shifted into that sea. Utterly. No silhouettes, no screens, no photo collages of you and her are bound to be seen. Quiet, homely ambiance is one of the things keeping your ears attentive to the bedroom around you, and what's happening inside of it.

Everything. Every sonant breath, every choked gasp, painted eerily— except Ellie.

Dim light a source at the head of your bed, only the shapes closest to it are palely painted. Auburn mane, cedar brown lashes, the heads of your knees, the head in-between them. Feasting sensually on the hallowed breeding grounds hot at the center of you, painted filthily in the sounds it made. Cradled in the perfect light, just enough for your pupils to zero in, and never zero out, consumed by the movement of her working her hungry muscle in and out of your drenched entrance.

"Huh," amused by your please-less plead, your clit is greeted with a scoff against it. "But you've got my tongue, don't need my fingers babe." that serene, soundproof whisper trying to convince you. So sure that what is given, is what will be taken.

Yet, a pit of greed takes root in your brain, and you find anything below the stretch of her painfully lacking.

As Ellie tucks her tongue back inside, lapping at your wetness, you pursue in tales of whines. "Wanna be full of you," leaves your bitten lips, higher-pitched and pulled across your teeth as that knot inside you responds to her tongue; swells on the mouthy sounds that come from it rolling stripes through your folds. Tighter, tighter, it tenses deliciously— and elapses before you can even focus on it, earning her but a frustrated huff out of you, "It's not enough."

"Don't wanna come on my tongue?"

Your hips snap forward for her once again withdrawn mouth anyway, afraid to loose any string of sensation. "Ellie," you fuss her name, and that pussy-eating grin of hers curls into a shit-eating one, laying her risen, pinched and dapple cheeks on the plush of your thigh. Annoyingly cute— just emphasize the annoying part.

"What's up?" clearly, she wants to get under your skin. Tenderly question you, deny, deny, ignite the sparks and quench herself on how cute you are. Grasping that something henpecks you to act so neglected and taking it into advantage like a sagacious cunt, bringing you to orgasm on her plan alone.

Unreserved, your lips.

"Want you t' get me pregnant," breathlessly muffled, humility has fled you. Dirty delights scorching at the hills of your cheeks, reach spoken ends at the tips of your tongue. "Els, I want you— you to.." the recital becomes lost in the haze of your head.

"Yeah?" her cheek tilts off your thigh.

"Yeah."

Her fingertips sunk in the crevice of your crotch and thigh, exert pressure, scooting you completely up to her chin. Silently setting up her answer; her play-along, earnest, and downturned eyes telling you to want otherwise. "Mhh, don't think you're ready for that. Knock you up on a whim? C'mon, babe"

Spoken replies don't necessarily represent gut truths, the telltale opposite answer present in her swallow. Ellie thinks, if she lets herself feed into that desire now— she won't stop.

"Just take my tongue, okay?"

Though weak, you agree, "Okay."

"Good girl," she grates, as if her throat had dried in pausing all attention from your pussy. Her hands float off your hips for a split second before smacking back down, admiring the way it ripples and jiggles the fat there, collecting her peachy, bottom lip beneath her top teeth and tugging it inside. Enamored with your cunt, and how it leaks sleek in the yearn for her fill, her claim, her name.

Her babies, even?

"So fuckin' pretty, gonna let me take my time? Fill you up when we're ready?" coos at it, reaching a lousy hand down to grope herself. In so doing, she brews a moan of her own ache she simmers at, "Fuck." and takes her free fingers as an opportunity to slap your folds, splaying your labia nastily with her index and ring, and hawking spit to your hole— honestly, just to watch it drip like syrup through your pussy lips.

She really is unreserved.

Cold when it hits— you twitch, but hotly-stirring when her tongue peeks out to smear it up to your clit, eyes shut with careful precision— you suck your stomach in.

"That's more like it."

[igotanidea]

Too hot to handle: Jason Todd x reader

SMUT MDNI!

As usual sorry for all the typos, grammar mistakes etc. I really had to post it XD

***

Y/N was fuming.

For no reason at all, falling down the internet hole, she found herself on some stupid forum for stupid horny women who couldn't keep it in their pants.

Clearly those bitches were getting hot and bothered for Red Hood, shamelessly sharing their dirty thoughts and comments on some parts of his body and the things he'd let him do if--

Fuck.

She could have Tim or Babs trace their IP addresses in a second and could pay them a visit of a very possessive, angered and super jealous girlfriend.

Her hands were almost itching to write a few spicy comments herself, spilling the beans of whose body Red Hood was touching almost every night. Whose lips he was devouring. Whose most sensitive parts he was tasting with his tongue, begging for as much as a drop of sweetness. Whose moans and gasps he got to hear, whose voice was his drug, whose curves he was worshiping on his knees.

Obviously, she couldn't do that, but the thought of Jason's muscled body on top of her, his hands tracing her skin and joining her in the intimate dance had a side effect seeping through her panties. 

She needed him. 

With the need that could not be satisfied with her fingers or even the toys she had stacked safely in the locked bottom drawer.

Jason ...

Come home...

Can't you sense how much I want you now...

She almost prayed to the moon on the sky to bring her lover back to her. 

***

That little tingling on his skin was something new and as much as he hated to put the thought into words, it was like a spider-sense. The one of Y/N’s second favorite self-appointed hero – spiderman.

Y/n…

Was that feeling because she was in danger?

Did someone hurt her? Did anyone dare lay a finger on his precious girl?

Jason gritted his teeth, clenching fists, anger at a purely potential enemy flooded his brain.

It was a quiet night either way, giving him a perfect opportunity to take a quick detour and check on his angel. Just a look and assurance that she was safe, to help him keep going and push him through all the shit and doubts.

Y/n….

***

He did not expect her to sit in front of Netflix at 2 am. She had work in the morning so why on earth was she watching the series?

“Hey!” he called, probably a little bit too loud, causing her to jump on the couch and almost drop the mug. “Sorry…”

“Next time give me a heads up, will you?” she muttered with a pout.

“Um- okay. What’s with the attitude?”

“Nothing.” Y/N scoffed angrily, turning back to the TV.

“Can I please get my girlfriend back? You know, the other one? Nice and caring? The one who would ask me if I’m hurt or maybe need patching or a post-patrol kiss?” Jason teased moving in front of the screen, successfully blocking it from her view. “Wait… Y/N, are you watching “Too hot to handle?" His laugh filled the room, because honestly that might have been the funniest thing in the whole week. His serious, a bit reserved, goody-two-shoes girl had her eyes on the show about horny singles.

“Shut up…”

“Oh, I will most definitely not shut up about it. Are you hinting at something, here? Cause you know, you don’t need a show like this if—” he switched a little, coming closer and leaning over her silhouette on the couch

“Shut up, Jason!”

“Whoa!” his hands raised in feigned surrender “someone’s feisty today, aren’t you?”

“I’m not feisty. I’m furious!”

“At what?”

“Girls!”

“Wait, what?” Jason frowned “I am confused.

“Girls! Women! The ones who are trying to bang and –”

“I thought you liked banging?” he sent her a knowing smirk

“Jason!”

 “Come on, sunshine, you cannot hide that blush.” He pointed out, brushing fingers over her reddened cheeks, raising her head so she had to look into his eyes “What’s gotten into you? Tell me the truth.”

“Stupid internet.”

“Mhm. Okay. Care to elaborate?”

“Did you know the girls are getting hot for the Red Hood on some stupid forum?”

“Nope. Did not. But… did it make you jealous?” he smirked, expecting her to deny and squirm in embarrassment that he accused her of such low feelings.

“Yeah…” Much to his surprise, she decided to be honest. It truly was a strange night. “Yeah, I was. Jealous and furious. Hence the “Too hot to handle” marathon.”

“Hm? Can’t see the correlation.”

“It’s so shallow and selfish and mean, but – the show is so silly and most possibly fabricated. I may, or may not have been trying to diminish women who are openly horny….?” Her voice became barely audible at the end, as if she was ashamed to admit her own .

“Oh, you silly little one.” Jason laughed, pulling her onto his lap and brushing hair out of her forehead. “You could have led with that.” His lips brushed over her forehead

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You should have told me, that coming across girls leching over me-“

“Over Red Hood!” she interrupted and he only laughed again.

“Over me” he underlined  “- got your knickers in a twist.”

“It did not!”

Great, now she was trying to deny it. Too bad it was too late and he was in the mood for the games anymore. He felt the need to assure her that she was the one, though also expressing appreciation for said open horniness and for a little bit of jealousy. It made his ego soar.

“Didn’t it?” he teased, grabbing onto her waist and laying her on her back, hovering over her, moving fingers up her leg, until it reached the hem of her sleeping shorts. “Maybe I should check myself then?”

His hand brushed over the inside of her thigh, causing her to let out a sharp exhale.

“Oh, right… My little minx is not wearing panties at all. So it seems like you have been telling the truth after all. You did not get them in a twist…”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her, a sudden sweet distraction allowing him to yank those silly little shorts down, exposing her want without any care in the world. Opening her legs and wrapping them on his waist, without breaking the kiss for even a second, Jason pressed his weight on her, distributing it evenly on his forearms, to not crash her.

“Mmm. Tease.”

“And you love every second of it.” He smirked, grinding against her core, sacrificing his favorite tactical pants to her warmth and wetness. Not much of an exorbitant price for what was waiting at the finish line.

And even though it was just the beginning of the marathon, they were already gasping heavily, grasping onto each other, pulling each other closer and closer. She was so needy and he loved it. The more bothered she was, the easier it got for him to end on the winner’s podium. His cock was hardening by a second, making it almost painful to be kept in the pants, but he was holding back.

“Jason…” she moaned, reaching down his torso, sneaking hand under the waistband.

“Not yet, baby.” All she got in return was her hands pinned above her head in a very vulnerable position, completely at his mercy. And to add to it all, Jason lips attached to her pulse point, sucking the sensitive skin, making sure to leave a dark purple hickey. The one she wouldn’t be able to cover easily. “Not yet…” the grip on her wrists faltered for a second, but not enough to allow her to break free.

Jason was skillful and knew exactly what he was doing.  Feeding her with the false hope of freedom only for a second, only to grab her hands in one hand, using the other to roll her sleeping shirt up, exposing her breasts, but not taking it off fully.

“Hello, lovelies…” he muttered, before diving between her tits, getting the arching back and multiple sounds of pleasure in return. “Yeah… keep those sounds coming, baby…”

His lips traced a scorching path down her cleavage, making her want skyrocket, smirking upon the feeling of her legs tightening on his waist and her hips grinding against her jeans.

“Not yet.” He commanded again, pressing her back flat onto the couch. “Not yet…” his eyes flashed with something primal and animalistic. There was something devilishly turning on with having her naked under him, while he didn’t shed a single piece of clothing. And he was going to exploit that opportunity to the maximum.

With a quiet laugh that sounded almost sinful, Jason bent down and traced tongue over the flesh of her soft, warm breast, purposefully avoiding the little pink button that was begging for his attention. Yes, his ego was skyrocketing upon hearing her cries of pleasure and broken gasps of his name on her swollen lips, followed by the flexing of her body against his touch.

Yes, he might have been acting a little dominant, but they both knew it was not going to go on forever. 

Deep inside Jason was sweet and romantic, definitely putting soft, tender lovemaking over hard and rough sex.

And really, it didn’t take him long to give in to her pleadings and entreaties, moving lips to her nipple, sucking and biting on it gently.

“Oh yes!” she cried out, closing her eyes and from that moment things started taking on the pace. Jason groaned from the sensation of her breast in his mouth, letting go of her wrists, allowing her hands to tangle in his hair, only adding to the feelings burning inside his chest and groin. Abandoning lavishing attention on her chest, he guided her hands to the hem of his shirt and with  interlaced fingers and eyes never faltering from each other’s face they pulled it over his head, exposing his toned upper body, covered with fresh bruises and cuts.

“So you are hurt…” she whispered, touching the pads of her fingers to the newest purple mark on his pec.

“I didn’t notice…” his voice was deep, calming and full of adoration “All I notice right now is you…” he grabbed her hand pressing it to his lips, kissing all over her knuckles.

“Then come feel me too…” she moved upwards, pressing her lips to his, wanting to feel that chapped warmth on hers. And once their mouths met it was a sensation incomparable with anything else. Ironically (or not) making out like this, with their entwined bodies, separated only by the material of his pants, slowly, tenderly, focused only on each other, leaving the whole world behind was turning her on more than actual penetration.

Which did not mean she didn’t want to go all the way.

“Is it time yet?” she whispered, with a little bit of teasing in her voice, breaking the kiss only for a second.

“You are ruining the moment, sunshine.” He chuckled, tracing kisses up her cheek, all the way to her ear, softly biting on her earlobe, causing more tickling than actual pain. Y/N responded with a little chuckle as well, cupping his cheek, bringing his lips back to hers once more. Without breaking the making out for even one second, Y/N removed his belt and undid the button on his pants. Then, with a few kicks and swings of legs, they managed to set him free from his confines, finally feeling each other from head to toe.

“How’s your jealousy doing now…?” he teased, guiding himself to her entrance, grabbing onto her waist, rolling his fingers in tiny circles on her sensitive skin.

“Who’s ruining the moment now?”

“No idea. Who?” he chuckled. It was so good being with her like this. In the moment of intimacy, that was meaningful but deprived of the seriousness that could ruin the tenderness. Perfect mix of softness and love, seasoned with a bit of well balanced humor and  sarcasm that bonded them in the first place. “You ready for me, baby?”

“So ready.” She smiled, shifting and squirming to allow him to slide inside better and maximize the pleasure of unity for them both.

“Mh. Hello there…” he smirked and without missing a bit started to move inside her. Slowly, but intensely. Building up and drawing the tension. Moving hands on her body in time with the thrusts, fueling the fire that was meant to warm but not burn. “Is this what you wanted?” he looked at her face searching for the answers behind those e/c eyes, filled with longing and devotion.  

“Yeah… Good thing you helped me realize what it was that I wanted…” she started matching his movements, kissing him again.

The tension between their bodies was building slowly and steadily. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world, that suddenly shrunk to only them two.

Jason and Y/n.

Y/n and Jason.

Together.

Connecting seamlessly, with bodies joined and heart beating only for one another. Creating their own bubble of beauty and wonder in the darkness and danger of Gotham.

“I love you…” he muttered, leaning forehead on hers, needing to say those words before everything turn into the blur and haze due to the slowly approaching tidal wave of climax.

“I love you…” she responded, feeling the exact same need, knowing well enough that those three little words exchanged before the post-bliss was far more meaningful and far more true.

***

“How’s the hate on horny women doing now?” he muttered against her hair, some time later. It could have been minutes as well as hours cause once they busted the pleasure door open time suddenly became relative and meaningless.

“Hm? What women? Wait a second. Are you really trying to tell me there are other women somewhere?’ she looked at him with a tease, raising an eyebrow playfully. “I am fairly convinced there are only you and me. No other men or women anywhere.”

“Hm… What I’m hearing is that I’m the only guy in the world for you?”

“It depends on—”

“Because sure as hell you are the only woman for me.” He added quickly, knowing what her condition was. “And no silly internet forum or contestant of so-called hot, naughty Netflix show could change it.”

“You got soft, Red Hood.” She smiled, nuzzling into his chest and placing a little kiss on his chest, close to his heart

“I can be hard when it counts, though.” His heart picked up the pace as her lips touched his skin “Honestly I can be anything you may need from me.”

“How about we both stay ourselves?”

“Works for me.”

Jason's arms wrapped around her pulling her to his chest for more and more aftercare and cuddles. It was a quiet night after all and he could indulge in some time with his beloved Y/N.

[watercolorfreckles]

Could you do a story where a guard of a Supermax prison befriends a supervillain, because he treats him like a genuine human being instead of an animal; and later, all the power-dampeners suddenly fail; and all these villains just revolt against the guards; but supervillain makes sure he’s safe since he was always kind to him?

I understand if you don’t want to!!❤️

Hello! This has been sittin in my inbox for many months during my huge writing rut, sorry about that! I know you also gave this prompt to @the-modern-typewriter and she's been making an incredible series with it on patreon! I changed some things around because I don't want to in any way attempt some sad copy of her interpretation, but I was still inspired by the prompt itself, so I've taken some fairly big liberties to avoid any significant similarities! Hope that's okay! Also, please manage your expectations, I do not compare to the magic that is TMT's writing 😆

TW: Brief depictions of body horror. Violence.

The power blew out in sections. The lights dissolved sector by sector with a sickening whine and click–one by one–in approach.

The commotion ripped Eloise from the fictional world she was lost in, aged page corners still pinched beneath her thumb. Her spirited storytelling abruptly died behind her teeth.

Somewhere in the distance, one person shouted. Two.

Her gaze flicked behind them to the door isolating herself and the bound supervillain from the other sectors of the Maximum Security Prison for Powered Individuals or, as everyone called it, The Max. Seeing nothing but black beyond the bullet-proof glass, her attention snapped forward again to the supervillain imprisoned across from her. 

Was this the start of some elaborate escape plan on his part? Why did it have to happen on a day that she was stuck fulfilling her community service hours instead of being something she could safely gawk at in the newspaper from a distance in a few days? Her stomach did a nauseated flip. 

“What are you doing?” she blurted, voice quivering only a little. Her fingers tightened around her book.

The villain made a show of looking pointedly at his restraints. Wrists strung taut and chained to either wall, he shrugged an innocent shoulder at her as if to say “clearly, nothing.” He was perched on the edge of his bed like a bird, tilting his head with a matching sort of probing curiosity. 

For all the chaos outside of the room, Artisan had not a hair out of place. He appeared perfectly unconcerned, though as thoroughly trapped as ever: ankles shackled, arms stretched uselessly apart from each other. The power-dampening collar wrapped around his neck still blipped a faint red light, indicating it was active. 

The prisoners were rioting. Surely they couldn’t get too far? Containing the most dangerous of powered individuals was, after all, the express purpose of the facility…

The lights above them flickered, dipping the room in and out of inky darkness before settling into a dimly lit haze. Eloise’s breath stalled. The imposing dark felt like a threat, as if the lights could keep the monsters at bay. It only made a little sense, in the way that a child feels safe from the monsters under their bed as long as their nightlight is plugged in.

Except that these monsters were real. The most dangerous in the country. And she was currently feet away from the monster that made even other monsters run.

He hadn’t seemed so bad in the time that she’d known him. Quiet, impassive, yet twisting her gut with pity any time she eyed his barbaric restraints. The least she could do–while crossing off her hours–was to read the supervillain a story every few days. She couldn’t change his fate. Couldn’t make him more comfortable. What she could do was rattle off, sheepishly, about fictional worlds and impactful characters in literature and the way that a well-crafted story could transport you somewhere better.

A crash, gunshots, a scream. Tension racketed through Eloise’s shoulders. More shouts chased thundering footsteps.

Things were going very, very, wrong. And she was very much out of her depth.

Eloise jolted as something struck the door, her special-edition copy of Mary Shelly's Frankenstein falling to the ground and skidding away.

Finally, the lights cut out. With it, every noticeable piece of tech died. All of the energy felt sucked out of the room as if vacuumed. The camera’s blinking light disappeared. Alarms that should have been wailing cut silent. Speakers, keypads, and security systems, all dead. The secondary generator hadn’t sprung to life yet. That meant that this was more than a simple power outage. This was a calculated revolt.

 Eloise’s mind raced through a list of everything else that must have been failing. Coms. Sedative gas. Shock collars. Layers and layers of security locks…

Power dampeners.

Panic clamped vice-like and suffocating around her throat. Artisan’s collar was no longer blinking. 

She froze in the eerie silence of the cell, afraid of shattering the fragile calm. Her heart thumped, rabid, against her ribs.

Chains rattled and clinked to the floor.

Eloise bolted blindly for the door, smacking her palm against the DNA scanner while frantically swiping her “Volunteer Staff” badge through the card reader. When neither miraculously came to life, she resorted to banging on the door.

“Let me out, let me out! Guard!”

The door could only be opened by one person inside the cell and one outside simultaneously unlocking the security checkpoints. Even if the power were on, if the guard on the other side was gone…

The emergency floodlights kicked on, bathing the building in startling fluorescence. Eloise flinched, briefly stunned.

Hands grabbed her firmly from behind, yanking her backward.

Eloise yelped. “No, please–!”

The spot that she had been standing in exploded, steel door and concrete chunks collapsing into the room in a barrage of shrapnel. Something–no, someone–landed, bones crunching, at her feet. The guard who had last been standing on the opposite side of the door lay motionless. His blood puddled the floor, staining the soles of her Converse sneakers.

A horrified sound choked in Eloise’s throat.

Another supervillain strode in, eyes alight with hatred and something more–power. His lip curled, waving a mocking hand–engulfed in green energy–at the guard’s corpse. “God. I’ve wanted to do that for far too long. That one always got on my nerves.”

Artisan looked unimpressed. “You’re making a mess in my cell.”

Eloise’s breath caught. Hearing the supervillain’s voice was jarring. Artisan rarely spoke. Not that any of the other staff had ever actually attempted conversation with him… But even in news clips and YouTube videos, he carried himself with the kind of self-assured quiet of someone who had absolutely nothing to prove. His lethal efficiency did more for his reputation than any words could.

The other man was a villain named William Frenzy, a telekinetic with a gleeful taste for violence.

Faced with Artisan’s startling calm, Frenzy… paused. Faltering on a tight rope he had moments before been strolling across. 

“Yes, well. It won’t have to be your cell much longer, will it? They can’t stop all of us.” He smirked at the dead body on the floor. “Some of them can’t even stop one of us.”

Eloise shrank back toward the corner nearest the door, agonizingly slow, willing the ugly shadows from the artificial lighting to swallow her up while the supers focused on each other. She was the kind of person that people tended not to notice; a background character in the perimeter of a story that the protagonist would meet once and never spare a thought again. She wished, then, that invisibility really was her superpower.

Artisan said nothing, his steely gaze fixed upon Frenzy.

Frenzy floundered beneath the scrutiny. The smugness buffered on his face. Finally, he huffed, crossing his arms. “I made you a nice and easy door out. You’re welcome.” He flicked a hand toward the gaping hole in the wall.

Eloise inched further toward it.

Artisan tutted, and while it wasn’t aimed at her, it shot a cold thrill up her spine. She froze, briefly, before continuing her tantalizing escape. She listened to Artisan speak again. 

“I did not need anything from you. I’ll be getting out regardless. You on the other hand…” 

Eloise stared as Frenzy’s skin shrank taut against his bones, the frame of him creaking and groaning like an old tree in the wind. The air choked out of him, fingers grabbing at his jaw as it stretched open too wide. The corners of his lips tore, slitting his mouth into a gaping maw.

The faintest of smiles graced Artisan's lips as he continued, soft as ever. “Say sorry.”

Eloise didn’t wait to see the carnage through, slipping out into the hall and running.

The other sectors were washed in the same sterile glow as Artisan’s cell was, blue-tinged and horrible, like the lights in a dentist's office. She kept to the edge of things as best she could, clinging to the walls and dark corners.

There was brawling in every sector—guards with weapons drawn mowed to the ground by the creatures they had wardened for so long. A villain fell as shots rang out. Another grabbed the guard from behind, cracking his skull against their knee. 

The smell of blood stung Eloise’s nostrils. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe.

She turned to flee down another hall, but two fighting inmates crashed into the doorway in front of her.

Eloise squealed, jerking backward into the belly of the room's chaos.

Don't notice me, don't notice me, don't notice me.

Everyone was so occupied by their chosen prey, maybe she could fade into the background. Maybe she could–

Her heel caught on something and she tumbled, gracelessly, to the floor. It took her several moments to register the lake of blood seeping warm and sticky into her clothing. 

Terror blurred her brain in a white flash bang.

Disappear, disappear, disappear…

“Mm. What do we have here?”

Eloise couldn’t bring herself to lift her head. She clamped her eyes shut, another child’s illusion of protection. 

The villain opposite her chuckled. He ripped her volunteer badge off of its clip against her chest. Her eyes snapped open again. She recognized him as a ringleader among superpowered thieves. They called him Volt.

“Volunteer, eh? A pretty thing like you should know better than to willingly set foot in a prison full of men with nothing left to lose. It’s been a long sentence, darling. I could make excellent use of your volunteer services. Get up.”

Numbly, ears full of static, Eloise shook her head.

Volt frowned, electricity jumping to life in his palms. “No?” He reached for her, hand nearing her throat.

“Keep your hands to yourself or I will remove them.” 

Artisan’s voice was calm. His eyes were not.

The room quieted.

Spatters of red decorated Artisan’s prison uniform. A few drops dotted his face and he brushed them away with his knuckles, smearing the crimson across his cheek. Almost lazily, he popped his neck and stretched his shoulders, no doubt sore from the strain his restraints kept him in.

The villain across from Eloise paused, sparks still dancing across his fingertips. He regarded Artisan with the same wary caution as Frenzy had.

Before he'd been… Before Artisan had…

Eloise swallowed back the nausea climbing her throat.

Finally, Volt’s hand lowered. “She's yours?”

“She's hers. Step away.”

The man hesitated a moment too long. Artisan didn't offer a second warning. 

As if puppeted, the man's fingers raised to gauge at his own eyes. He screamed, the faint evidence of Artisan’s power shimmering over him. He clawed, next, at the skin on his face, peeling it back like wet wallpaper. 

As promised, his wrists crunched and bent, wrenching all on their own at impossible angles.

Eloise covered her ears, unable to bear the screaming. She felt sick.

“Stop,” she whispered finally. “Please.”

It did. The man collapsed into a sobbing, bloodied heap.

When Eloise managed to look at Artisan, she startled to find his attention fixed on her.

They stared at each other for a stretch of silence that itched. She imagined being forced to choke on her own lungs, or her skull constricting in on itself until it squashed her brain into pulp. For being so bold as to run, he might snap her legs and reaffix them the wrong direction, or splinter her bones to poke, grotesque, out of her skin. They always did say that his victims were his personal works of art, bodies twisted into shells of monsters.

He crooked a finger, beckoning her.

The edges of her vision swooped fuzzy and vertiginous. She rose onto wobbly knees and pushed herself to her feet. When she swayed, Artisan caught her elbow, slipping an arm around her waist to lead her forward.

He did not look back at the others, with complete confidence that no one would challenge him.

No one did.

Eloise was barely aware of taking one step after another. When they arrived back in the villain’s cell, the bodies of Frenzy and the dead guard, thankfully, were gone, though the floor was streaked with the drag lines of their blood.

She wrenched her gaze away.

Artisan’s hand moved further down her arm to her wrist, gesturing that she sit on his bed. When she shifted to do so, his grip tightened, tugging her to a stop. She frozen and tried to read his face. 

His dark brows were furrowed, suspicious eyes flicking from hers down to her hand.

He pulled down her sleeve and held her wrist up between them, revealing the power-blocking cuff clamped around it. His head cocked. He waited.

Eloise swallowed. “I’m not a super. I mean- not a super-super. Just a…..no one.”

“A no-one who volunteers at The Max? With a power-dampener?”

“They’re terms of my probation,” she blurted. “A thousand hours of community service here and a power-inhibitor for a year. I think they put me here to threaten me with where I could end up if I continue on like… Um…”

“Me.”

“A villain,” she clarified, as if that was better. 

Her gaze flitted from the fingers wrapped around her wrist and up to the villain’s face again. The harsh lighting haloed him, dimly silhouetting his face. He looked haunting. He looked lovely. A beautiful house, old and creaking, wrapped in ghosts like a bride’s veil and left to rot. 

“What did you do?”

“I…” Eloise felt very small. “I lied about being powered on my documents. So that they wouldn’t put me on the registry. When they found me out, I tried to run away.”

Artisan’s scrutiny burned her cheeks. He let go of her wrist.

“...What can you do?”

“Nothing special,” she said, cradling her wrist–wholly uninjured as it was–in her other hand. “It doesn’t even work most of the time. My power is sort of…blending in. Going unnoticed. When it’s working, I could stand in a the White House and people’s attention would glide over me as if I belonged there. Not quite invisible, but… It just tricks your brain into not thinking twice.”

Artisan’s eyes narrowed.

Eloise flinched back a step, stumbling back over her fallen book onto the bed. She stared at him.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Some of the tension eased from her shoulders, but she still waited for the catch. “Why aren’t you out there with the rest of them? Trying to escape?”

The villain considered her for a long moment. He sat down beside her, and the hard cot creaked beneath his weight. “Mm. That’s just it. No one inside the prison could have blown the power-dampeners. They require someone with powers to turn them off or on, and the security is impenetrable. My team has tried. Besides, if this was a simple power outage, the inhibitors would still be on. But they’re not. This was premeditated–and no one imprisoned here could have done it. No one on the outside could have done it. So. Process of elimination. Who’s left?”

That was the most Eloise had ever heard Artisan speak, and she could only sit and listen intently–As he had when she’d read him stories. Her brain whirred in a jumbled jigsaw of puzzle pieces. 

“It… It could only be an inside job.” She wet her lips. “The heroes- The higher-ups- They want the prisoners to break out so that they can kill them. A clean massacre. Justified under the law. The world’s most dangerous criminals could never be allowed to escape…”

Artisan smiled and it swirled something in her insides. “A convenient way to get rid of all of the pesky criminals clogging up the system. I’d bet anything that there are 50 snipers surrounding the building, waiting to slaughter anyone who steps foot outside.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Artisan agreed, his smile easing into something softer; something with less feral teeth.

“Thank you for helping me,” Eloise whispered. “What do we do now?”

Artisan hummed. He bent down and swept up her book, dropping it into her lap. He laid back against his pillow and crossed his arms behind his head. The bloodspots on his skin and clothes glittered in the lowlight. 

“Keep reading. I want to know how it ends.”

Part 2

[shalomniscient]

sara has been poisoned.

you know this because she has been sick longer than any fever lasts for, but more so because you’ve spent nearly the entire past decade of your life studying poisons in sumeru. the anatomy of a poisoning is an old friend of yours; the poison, the poisoned organism, the injury to the cells, and the symptoms and signs—which is usually succeeded by death, although you are not so unskilled to undo the effects of a simple almond-based poison. no, the poison itself is not your concern, hastily and poorly concocted as it is.

no, your concern is the bastard who would dare do such a thing to your wife.

sara shivers as you pat a damp cloth to her forehead. her face is flushed with fever, sweat beading on her neck. her fingers grip and relax the bedding of her futon, eyes squeezed shut as the poison rips through her. you’ve already administered the antidote, but the aftereffects are still something sara must weather alone. it makes your heart ache. you are used to seeing your wife as a pillar of strength, so to see her reduced to quivering frailness brings out a grief in your heart you only experienced once, as your mother lay dying. you lean down and press a kiss to her forehead, squeezing her hand. sara groans, but some of the tension in her expression melts at the gesture.

just then, the door slides open with a soft sound. by the cadence of the footsteps—even, controlled, but with the weight of the house’s master—you know it is your brother, ayato. you do not look at him when you speak, your voice deceptively soft.

“have you discovered the culprit, brother?”

ayato hums behind you. “i have. one kujou kurose, a minor officer from one of the kujou branch families.”

“a fellow member of the kujou?”

“yes. though, he has made his disapproval of takayuki’s adoption of sara clear from the beginning. now that takayuki is out of the picture, i suspect he felt bold enough to make his move and get rid of her as well.”

you snort derisively as you brush some damp hair out of sara’s face. “he would commit treason out of jealousy?”

“the human heart is fickle,” ayato says evenly. “so, what is it you plan to do, sister?”

you tuck the sheets a little tighter around sara, then rise to your feet. you turn, and offer ayato a carefully measured smile—the smile your father taught both you and ayato to wear; the one that brings with it unrest. ayato recognises it innately, and a spark of amusement lights up his usually placid eyes.

“why, invite them to tea, of course.”

-

kujou kurose is a poor actor.

you learn this as you sit across from him at tea, listening to him ramble and rave about just how terrible it is for general kujou to have fallen ill. your hands squeeze your teacup tight enough that the glass might have cracked in your grip. instead, you grit your teeth and patiently endure his incessant blabbering, before insisting he have some tea.

“sakura blend,” you elaborate. “the petals came from the sacred sakura. it is intended to promote good health.”

kujou kurose idly strokes his beard and chuckles. “is that so? then let us drink to general kujou’s continued good health. please, pour some for me.”

you smile—polite as ever—and lean forward to lift the teapot. the collar of your kimono shifts with the action, and you can feel kurose’s eyes linger on the brief flash of your exposed collarbones. a stab of annoyance flickers through you, but you tamp it down. you pour his tea, then return to your seated position. kurose, to his credit, is not so barbaric to forget the etiquette of tea. he sips his tea from his cup slowly, expression smoothing out as the warm, sweet liquid tips down his throat. your smile does not leave your face. when he sets his cup back down, his expression is utterly calm, relaxed.

fool.

your own tea is untouched. you watch him carefully as you speak. “is the tea to your liking, my lord?”

kurose gives you a look. opens his mouth and tries to speak.

he fails.

you cannot stop the sheer delight on your face as you watch the man realise he cannot move at all. his eyes, once arrogant and deceptive, are now filled solely with fear. rage flickers across his expression briefly, but the fear resurges without mercy as he experiences what it is like to have no control over your body. as he remains stone-still in paralyzed fear, you raise your own cup to your lips and take a sip. the tea is warm and sweet—but to your seasoned palette of poisons, the subtle bitter hints of paralytic are obvious.

not that it bothers you. you’ve been ingesting your own poisons (in controlled doses, of course) since your first year at the akademiya to get a leg up on your coursemates in describing and documenting the effects of assorted poisons. suffice to say, you’ve developed a reasonable amount of tolerance to poisons, especially the ones you crafted yourself.

others, like kurose? not so much.

when you set your teacup down, there is nothing in his expression but despair. that dark, vindictive part of you howls with glee at the sight, and you give him your first true smile of the afternoon. when you speak, your voice is low, like a serpent slithering through tall grass.

“did you think i would not know, kurose?” you use his first name casually, as befitting your status both as a kamisato, and the general’s wife. “the walls have ears, kurose, and you have been so very loud.”

his throat bobs. you had given him just enough of a dosage to paralyze most of his muscles, but not enough to freeze the ones in his lungs or heart. at least, not yet.

“i know you poisoned my wife,” you continue, your tone hardly betraying anything. the conversation flows as if you were merely speaking of ther weather. “and i know it is because you are too much of a bitch to face her in honorable combat.”

if kurose could move, he would have flinched. but he can’t, so the best he can manage is a frenzied look of pure panic in his eyes.

“so you resorted to these… pathetic, underhanded methods you know sara would never dream of partaking in. and you thought, like this, you might win. and even if she didn’t die, you could not be implicated because of a lack of evidence, and that sara’s own respect for the law would let you walk free. but i’m afraid your cowardice is only matched by your stupidity,” you spit, unable to contain your vitriol any longer. “because if you think i subscribe to such restrictions, you are sorely mistaken.”

you have been away from inazuma for years, studying in the land of wisdom. and many have forgotten just who you are, but you are a kamisato. they call your sister a heron, sweet and beautiful. they call your brother a fox, cunning and charming. but you? you are nothing so warm-blooded. you are a snake in the grass, coiled in on yourself, fangs filled with venom. and archons help whoever is foolish enough to tread too close to your nest.

“make an attempt on my wife’s life again, kurose, and i will watch the light leave your eyes myself.”

and with that, you stand, forgoing a bow, and leave the trembling man in your living room with a swish of your silk kimono.

-

sara blinks as she looks down at one of her documents. she’s since recovered from her illness, and has resumed her duties as general. currently, she’s going over her backlog of paperwork that accumulated while she was unwell. and one of them is particularly odd—kujou kurose’s resignation letter.

“strange,” she mutters, and you look up from your embroidery to glance at her. you tilt your head in question.

“what is, dearest?”

“uncle kurose resigned,” she says, scanning over the document again. “he said he feels ‘too old’ to keep attending to his role within the clan. he’ll be… taking an extended trip to liyue to recuperate, apparently.”

you only hum at that. “mm, it is not too surprising. he is quite old, no?”

“well…” sara sighs. “he is old, yes, but he is also… tenacious. i didn’t think he’d resign unless he died. so it’s just weird, i suppose.”

you set your embroidery down with a smile, rising to your feet to pad softly over to her side. your brush her bangs away from her forehead and press a soft kiss to her temple. sara makes a tiny, surprised noise, a delicate flush settling on her cheeks as your hand rises to cup her jaw.

“you’re so caring, my dear,” you chuckle. “i’m sure he’s quite fine. it isn’t like he was threatened or anything—he’s still a kujou, after all. who would dare?”

sara sighs again, and leans into your touch. “you’re right.”

“i always am,” you quip, and sara rolls her eyes affectionately. she turns her head and presses a quick kiss to your palm.

“i love you,” she whispers, and your eyes soften. you lower your head to catch her lips in a soft kiss. she tastes like peppermint tea and sugar, the blend you made specifically for her. you breathe your reply against her lips.

“i love you too, my dear.”

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [17] - Disagreements

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Petty fights can start out of nowhere.

Word Count: 2800

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, stabbing, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Waking up and not finding Bucky in bed next to you wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

He always woke up before you, but this was the first time you were hearing a second, very familiar voice booming through the house and you sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes.

What on earth was your father doing in your apartment this early on in the morning?

You pushed the covers off of you and looked around the room for Alpine but she wasn’t there either. Grabbing the first thing you found -which turned out to be one of Bucky’s crisp white button up shirts- you pulled it over your tank top and shorts, then went downstairs, following the voices.

“If this has been your plan all along,” your father’s stern voice reached your ear from Bucky’s office, “I swear to God—”

“I don’t have any plans,” Bucky’s much calmer voice replied and you pulled your brows together, approaching the doorframe but still shielding yourself from their gaze. Alpine meowed when she saw you, running to you but neither of them seemed to notice it.

“No?” your father asked. “So this is not some sort of elaborate plot to take over my territory?”

“Not at all.”

“Then why was she having a briefing with Rogers?”

“Because I don’t think my wife should be kept out of the business entirely,” Bucky said as you bent down to scratch at Alpine’s head before straightening your back again. “It’s the new generation, we do things differently now.”

Your father let out a furious breath.

“Listen,” he said. “I don’t care what you do with your own business, but if you’re putting ideas into my daughter’s head—”

“Arthur, she’s smart as fuck, you do realize that?” Bucky snapped, making you smirk. “There’s no idea I can put into her head that she hasn’t thought about to begin with.”

“Not to mention,” you said and stepped into the office, making both of them turn to look at you. “She has a phone. So if you wanted to see me, you could just let me know.”

Your father gritted his teeth and stole a look at Bucky. “Give us a minute.”

If it were anyone else, you were sure they would be hurrying off to the door because you had seen your father intimidate countless men throughout your life, but Bucky didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest as he leaned back to his desk.

“This is my house,” he replied, making your father blink a couple of times.

“And I’d like a moment alone with my daughter.”

Bucky turned to look at you as if silently asking if you wanted him to leave and you shook your head, then crossed your arms.

“Anything you want to say, you can say it in front of my husband,” you told him, making Bucky grin proudly. “So?”

Your father’s glare at you was enough to make the sudden chill of nervousness shoot through you, but you didn’t let it show on your face as he shook his head.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing,” you said. “I literally woke up to you guys’ yelling to be honest—”

“Having a meeting with Rogers,” he cut you off impatiently as if he didn’t have the time for your jokes. “What is that about?”

You let a smirk pull your lips.

“Did Ian come and cry to you about it?” you asked. “Honestly.”

“He did let me know, yes,” he said. “As he was supposed to. Seeing that you weren’t planning on telling me about it, I’m glad he did.”

“You have your messenger boy there already,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s clear you don’t need me to tell you anything.”

He took a deep breath like he was trying his hardest to stay calm and you stole a look at Bucky who gave you an assuring smile, watching you two.

“Sweetheart,” he said, the slight condescending tone in his voice making you clench your jaw. “I know that you want to be a part of the business, and Bucky is for some reason fueling this nonsense, but—”

“He’s not fueling anything,” you growled. “I happen to have my own mind, unlike what you seem to think.”

“Y/N—”

“I mean who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

“Okay!” Bucky cut you two off before your father could answer. “Can I suggest we all calm down before anyone says anything they might regret?”

Both you and your father looked at him before turning to glare at each other again and your father pursed his lips, heaving a sigh.

“I’m not trying to patronize you,” he said and you raised your brows.

“Might be too late for that.”

“But I need you to be safe,” he said, making Bucky frown for the first time. “And becoming a part of the business…”

“To repeat, I can make my own decisions.”

“I’m not putting her in danger, Arthur,” Bucky said, his voice calm despite the stern expression on his face. “You know I would never.”

“Right,” your father scoffed and gave you a warning look. “Y/N, I mean it. What you’re trying to do—”

“What makes you think I’m trying to do anything?”

“Because I wrote the playbook you’re following,” your father replied. “I taught you every single trick, and now you’re going to turn around and treat me like I’m clueless?”

You clicked your tongue, tilting your head.

“I’m not doing anything that you haven’t been doing with me for years now,” you said. “You pushed me out of the picture, you’ve been treating me with kid gloves and you have the audacity to give me that speech right now?”

He ran a hand over his face.

“I’m only doing what your mother would like, for you.”

You let out a breath, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No,” you said. “You’re doing what you would like, for me. And I’m done letting you.”

You could see a muscle in his jaw ticking as he glared at you for a couple of seconds, then took a deep breath.

“We will talk later when you’re calmer,” he said and stormed out of the office before you heard the front door slam. You rolled your eyes and turned to Bucky who gave you a tight-lipped smile.

“Good morning,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” you asked back and Bucky waved a hand in the air.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Hungry though. Breakfast?”

You huffed out a laugh and nodded your head.

“Yes please,” you said. “Jesus, what a morning.”

                                               *

It wasn’t that you kept the fact that you were meeting Ethan this afternoon a secret, it was just that you didn’t think Bucky needed to know about it. This marriage was fake yes, and it wasn’t like you were having a secret affair meeting, you two were just friends and it was a normal gather up with your friend.

Or at least, that’s what you had been trying to convince yourself of the whole morning.

You drummed your fingernails on the table and reached out to grab your cup to take a sip of your latte, but lowered it when the wind bells by the door chimed and your gaze fell on Ethan. He looked around the café, then gave you a small smile and approached you as you stood up.

“Hey,” he said, giving you a curt hug and you smiled as he pulled back, then sat down again.

“Hi,” you said. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you two,” he said as he sat down and ordered a coffee. “How have you been?”

“Good,” you said. “You?”

“Busy a bit. You look—” he paused for a moment when his eyes fell upon your wedding ring. “Married.”

You let out a nervous laugh and heaved a sigh.

“Mm hm.”

He pursed his lips together and took a deep breath.

“I owe you an apology,” he said, making you shake your head.

“Ethan…”

“I do,” he said. “I’m—It was stupid to say all that shit. Trust me, I wanted to text and apologize so many times, I just didn’t think you wanted to hear my voice.”

You rolled your eyes at him in a lighthearted manner.

“Ethan, you happen to be the only person in my life who’s not…” you trailed off and he gave you a small smile.

“Who’s not following the same career path?”

You clicked your tongue. “That’s one way to put it,” you said, making him chuckle. “So yeah, I reacted badly as well. I was very tense when we had that conversation.”

He offered his hand. “Truce then?”

You scoffed a laugh, then reached out to shake his hand.

“Everyone knows I’m a big fan of truce,” you said and he grinned, then thanked the waitress when she brought his coffee.

“So,” he said after taking a sip of his coffee. “How is it then? Do guns go off when you and Barnes enter the building or…?”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “Ethan.”

“Do you guys do that Mr. and Mrs. Smith shit?”

“Wrong movie reference.”

He held up his hands, gesturing surrender.

“Does he still dislike me?”

The correct and honest answer would be that Bucky didn’t even think about Ethan, at least in your opinion. Not only did he have bigger problems what with HYDRA and their attacks in the city, his dynamic with the other bosses were bound to get tense with you officially becoming a part of the business.

So, he was probably too busy to sit around and think about Ethan.

“Nah I don’t think so,” you managed to say, leaning back. “That night at the club, I know he was an asshole but we were…things were weird between us then.”

“I’d say so,” he said, and licked his lips. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you said. “As long as I can answer it hypothetically, that is.”

“Is it real?”

That managed to make you pull back slightly and you blinked a couple of times before heaving a sigh.

“I don’t understand what you—”

“Because I’d like to think that we had something, back at college,” he said, making your brows furrow. “And that night at the club, you weren’t looking at him like…I could’ve sworn you hated him, Y/N.”

“Like I said, things were weird between us then,” you muttered, turning the coffee cup in this saucer and he shook his head.

“And it changed that fast?” he asked. “Listen, I’m going to shut up if you don’t want me to talk about this, but if it’s not real—”

“If it’s not real, you’ll save me?” you asked with a scoff. “I’m not some princess in a castle Ethan.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware.”

“Hypothetically, even if it weren’t—”

“Hypothetically,” he cut you off. “I’d happily wait for your divorce.”

That made you stop talking as your eyes snapped up to his and you gawked at him in a dumbfounded silence.

Ah.

Alright, this was…

The idea was quite lovely, to be honest. As you had told Becca, being with Ethan would be so simple, he was a civilian so there would be no ulterior motives or plotting or any of the tension you knew each and every couple in business had. Not only that, but Bucky had broken your heart so terribly all those years ago and you were sure that if you decided to see or treat this marriage like a real marriage, he would do it again.

Unlike Ethan.

Dear God, it would be so peaceful.

But you knew you couldn’t deal with whatever this was when you were going for your father’s crown. This right here was a distraction, and you couldn’t entertain the idea of a distraction.

You clicked your tongue and sat up straighter, checking the time.

“Sorry, I just remembered I had this thing,” you muttered, desperate to get away and he stood up as you did.

“Y/N,�� he said apologetically. “I’m sorry if that sounded—”

“No no,” you said with a shake of your head. “I don’t…I get what you mean, I really do. And as much as I know you mean well, saying this now is very disrespectful to Bucky so I’d rather if we didn’t speak about this again.”

He pursed his lips and nodded his head.

“Understood,” he said. “I won’t, I promise.”

“I’ll see you later, okay?” you asked and gave him a short hug, then walked out of the café, your heart beating fast.

“What the fuck was that?” you muttered to yourself as you got into your car and let out a breath, then started driving.

                                                         *

As you walked into the Barnes skyscraper, you were still trying to comprehend just why the hell, out of all things to say to Ethan, you had chosen ‘disrespect to Bucky’ as your answer. What Ethan had said wasn’t even so bad, you had been reminding Bucky that you two would eventually get a divorce and even talk about all the things you’d do on your second wedding and marriage to someone else, but when Ethan so much as mentioned waiting for your divorce, you had decided to draw the line?

This was rather absurd.

You rolled your shoulders back as someone escorted you to the elevator and pressed the button for you and you checked your reflection in the mirror until you got to the top floor and the doors opened.

“I can find my way, thank you,” you said told the bodyguard and walked out of the elevator to make your way to Bucky’s office.

“Is he in?” you asked the receptionist who stood up when she saw you.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Great, thank you,” you said and knocked on the door, then opened it to step inside. Bucky was sitting behind his desk, his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on the computer screen, but he turned his head when he saw you and raised his brows.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you said and approached the couch to fling yourself on it, crossing your legs. “So my father didn’t call me after this morning, has George called you?”

“No.”

The curt answer made you tilt your head and you frowned at him.

“Have you heard from anyone else?” you asked. “Because I feel like—”

“How was lunch with Ethan?”

That made you stop talking and you raised your brows, your stomach doing a flip.

“Are you having me followed?” you asked sharply through your teeth and he let out a bitter chuckle.

“I don’t need to have you followed,” he said. “You met the guy in my territory in case you forgot.”

You licked your lips, crossing your arms defiantly.

“So what, am I supposed to report back to you every single thing I do now?”

“I think I’d like to know if you’re meeting your ex -who by the way, still wants to fuck you- like a week after our wedding, yeah,” he shot back, making your jaw drop.

“Easy there, cowboy.”

“Y/N we had an agreement—”

“Does it look like I’m sleeping with him from where you’re sitting?” you asked. “I know the agreement. You don’t sleep with anyone else and neither do I, until our divorce.”

“Then?”

“Then I can have lunch with whoever I want.”

“To repeat, he wants to—”

“It was a friendly lunch and he just apologized for reacted badly when I told him we would be getting married,” you defended yourself hurriedly, knowingly leaving out the part Ethan said about your potential divorce and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Oh I wonder why he reacted badly to us getting married,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “What could it be? Any ideas?”

God damn it.

“This is not even a real marriage,” you hissed as you leaned in, careful not to speak too loud in case anyone outside could hear. “Or did you forget about that part?”

“Did you forget about the part we’re supposed to act madly in love?” he asked back, his voice calm unlike yours and even though he did have a point, the petulant part of you refused to acknowledge it, so you did the first thing you thought of and got up from the couch.

“I’m done talking about this.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m done I said!” you snapped over your shoulder and walked out of the office without looking back, making your way to the elevator. Your heart was beating in your ears and you grabbed your phone, and touched Becca’s name as the doors closed, the elevator moving.

“Hey,” Becca’s voice reached you. “What’s up?”

“I snapped at Ethan for disrespecting Bucky and then snapped at Bucky within the same hour,” you said and she paused for a moment, then hummed.

“I’m getting the wine ready,” she said. “Grab some sushi on your way here?”

“You got it,” you said and hung up the phone, then leaned your head back to the elevator wall. “What the actual fuck am I doing?”

Chapter 18

[eiightysixbaby]

Okay, so, this is kind of embarrassing to type out but kind of a hot idea for a fic, too? Please delete if it makes you uncomfortable!

Last night I had a little *me time* with my vibrator and my little machine (it's like one of those things you put a dildo on and you can set the speed to whatever you want so it's like it's fucking you) and I was on my tummy and had the vibe pressed to my clit and I came soooo hard but I don't know who to imagine when I think about someone finding me like that, Eddie, Robin, or Jonathan. 🫣 Send help!

ooooomg. i mean like they would all short circuit if they witnessed that, let’s just get that out of the way. but like, i guess i can elaborate. 🤭 i chose to do robin for this one, let’s try something new!! also i made this maybe a little more cutesy flirty than downright hot, but i hope you like it 🥹

18+ only pleaseeeeee

You let out an audible sigh the second you sink down onto the silicone toy. It presses so deep, your body slowly adjusting to the intrusion.

Quite honestly, it had been a long day, and you were pent up and seeking release. With your period just around the corner, your hormones are spiking at an all-time high, and you really aren’t sure how you even survived your shift at work without combusting.

You click a button on your tiny little remote, controlling the contraption you’ve strapped the dildo to. It starts to slowly move, helping the toy undulate, mimicking the thrusts of another person. Your brows furrow, your head tipping back as you rock your hips to meet the slow and steady thrusts.

Inhaling sharply, you click on your vibrator, pressing the tip of it against your puffy clit. A moan rips its way out of you, the second toy making your pleasure even greater. You’re grateful you have your apartment to yourself, your roommate’s shift running late tonight, so you don’t have to stifle your sounds.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, tension building in the pit of your gut already, a coil ready to snap and it’s only been a couple of minutes. You work your vibrator in rhythmic circles on your sensitive bud, panting as you inch yourself closer to your first climax of the evening.

With a cry, you’re clenching around the pink dildo, zaps of pleasure coursing through your desperate body. You give yourself a moment to steady your breathing before you’re upping the speed on your little fuck toy, letting out a long, low groan as the dildo fucks you faster.

If you hadn’t been lost in bliss, you’d have heard the front door open. If there wasn’t a white-hot ringing in your ears, you’d have heard Robin call out for you. But you didn’t, and you hadn’t, and all too late your bedroom door is swinging open.

Robin’s never been great with the whole knocking thing.

Her bright blue eyes go wide, her jaw flopping open and closed like a fish out of water.

“Oh! I- uh- I’m so sorry, ohmygod—” she stammers, her face going bright red.

Your mouth falls into an ‘O’ shape, frozen at the shock of being caught. Robin’s eyes flit from your face to the toy that’s fucking you and back again, neither of you knowing what to say.

You feel your whole body heat, and for a split second the thought passes through your brain that you’re flustered because you want her to see you, not because you’re embarrassed that she did.

You don’t have the capacity to unpack that though, not when a seven-inch dildo is rocking into you and your vibrator is buzzing suddenly way too loud and Robin is now covering her eyes with her hand and awkwardly stumbling out of your room.

“Rob, wait!” you call, hurriedly shutting off your toys, slipping on an oversized sweatshirt and some underwear.

You find yourself worried — irrationally so, you can admit — that you’ll find Robin packing a bag to stay at Steve’s or something. Too traumatized to continue to live with you.

What you actually walk in on is Robin anxiously pacing the floor of her room, her face going that same shade of red when she notices you.

“I am sofuckingsorry, I did not mean to walk in on you and I also didn’t mean to stare for a second there but like, wow, that was a lot, and—”

“Rob, hey,” you interrupt, knowing she’ll ramble for god knows how long if you don’t settle her.

She stops her movements, chewing on her lip as she skittishly meets your eyes again.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve been more careful and like, locked my door or something. I thought you were working late, I did not intend for you to… see that..” you tell her, wringing your hands together. You feel feverish, that heat creeping back up your neck and flooding your face.

Because suddenly you want to ask her if she’ll touch you, if she’ll be the one to bring you to sweet release. Suddenly your stupid crush that you’ve been trying to tell yourself didn’t exist, is hitting you full-force like a freight train. Suddenly Robin is so strikingly beautiful — and she always has been — but it’s suffocating now.

“I- um,” she starts, her expression a little bit frantic as she picks her next words. “Are you… upset? That I saw you like that?”

The question shocks you, and you hesitate to answer for a moment.

“Was that so stupid to ask? I’m sorry, I am totally making this worse—”

“I wasn’t upset,” you cut her off. “I think I kind of… secretly hoped you’d walk in on me.”

Now it’s her turn to be speechless, and god, she looks so fucking cute when she doesn’t know what to say. Her eyes have gone so wide, and you can’t help but clock the way her gaze shifts to your mouth.

Maybe it’s not a big deal if you have a huge crush on your roommate, because maybe she has a crush on you, too. Maybe it’s always been this way, and you were just too stupid to see the signs.

You take a couple steps toward her, until you can feel the heat from her body radiating off of her. “Just tell me if this isn’t what you want, okay?” You ask, taking her face gently in your hands and bringing her to you, searching her eyes for approval before fully closing the distance.

She nods, a barely noticeable thing, and then you’re pressing your lips to hers. Your heart beats hard, and you wonder if hers is doing the same thing. The way she pulls away and has to literally catch her breath is confirmation that it is.

There’s a giddy type of silence, the kind that comes after new boundaries are crossed and there’s tangible tension in the air.

“Can I please touch you now?” she murmurs finally, sounding as if she’s been dying to ask that question for an eternity, if not longer. “Because watching you fuck yourself on that toy made me start sweating.”

You can’t help but giggle, and her expression lightens at your laughter.

“God, yes,” you reply. “You just edged me so hard walking in on me like that.”

She laughs, now, the nervous edge to her demeanor wearing off little by little. “Oh, poor thing,” she says, getting her footing in the situation. “I’ll have to take care of that.”

A little smirk plays on her pretty lips, and she kisses you again on the mouth before moving down to your jaw. Her hand reaches down to cup your heat through your thin underwear, and already you’re seeing stars.

She’s going to make sure you see the whole galaxy tonight.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Hello <3 I have an idea for a request. Linkuei trio (and if you want other characters too) are having an argument with the reader, but suddenly she gives them a kiss to silence them. How would they feel or react? Sorry if this is stupid, I saw it in a novel and I liked it 😔

author note: this is not a stupid request, you idiot(lmao)! It is a scrummy idea that oiled my brain gears, so thank you🫶🏻. One last thing, the reader is already Tomas s/o in his part.

Bi-Han:

-Sektor, your friend, finally has a date with his crush. Honestly you are happy for him. It's already a miracle someone could suffer him for more than 12 hours and still wanting to kiss him dumb. -But between him and his date there is an obstacle: Bi-Han, your boss. -Your work is pretty different from theirs, but Bi-Han saw in you a precious resource, so he decided to keep you after Sektor brang you to him. -Being a precious resource means that you also have to hear him yap and throw a tantrum in your and Sektor shared kitchen, walking left and right like a madman waiting to block the scientist from his romantic date. -"They aren't right for him." "I should be his only thought." "They aren't even Lin Kuei!" -You listen to him, his words entering from an ear and exiting from the other without being elaborated in your brain, your ass sit tight on the chair with no real intention of standing up to calm him down. -It's unbelievable how you got a crush for this man-child. -"Why can't Sektor be happy? Having a distraction is nice, plus his brain can have more stimulus interacting with someone else." Bi-Han opens his mouth and you are sure he tells you something but your brain shut down the moment his lips open, not being ready to hear another chant of "No Lin Kuei" "He cannot-" and blah blah blah. -But you have a mission, one that you accepted after seeing Sektor getting on his knees and begging for your help. "Please distract Bi-Han while I run out from the house." -Clock is ticking, and you know the hour of the date is approaching. You are already tired, the flood of words from the usually silent grandmaster filled your ears for the year to come. -Then you decide to act. -"Plus they can't be good because-" Words hang in the air. You finally lift yourself up from the chair, just to grab the collar of Bi-Han uniform and kiss him, or better kiss his upper lip since his mouth was wide open. -You break the touch, hoping that now his scolding will be directed to you long enough for Sektor to escape. -What you don't expect is to see the kitchen twirl, and to find yourself cornered between the fridge and the kitchen island, back on the cold wall, front against a even colder chest, icy mouth sucking yours, teeth playing with your lower lip. -His fingers grip is hard, leaving indents in the back of your thighs trying to pull them up, around his hips. -You follow his implicit order, like a doll in the owner hands, his crotch now dangerously close to yours, tongue overpowering yours, their dance played in your warm mouth. -Bi-Han end the kiss, his thin lips just an inch away from yours, a heavy breath coming out from his nose. "You are not doing this to distract me from Sektor, right?" You try to look around, then your eyes land again on his face, on his dark and deep eyes. "Totally. Do you wanna stop?" "Absolutely not." His lips are back on yours, devouring you as a delicious meal. -Sektor is able to sneak away, between your shared groans and mewls, a smirk on his face. He is happy that his friend was finally able to get with Bi-Han. -Do you have a crush for Bi-Han? Well, you will be astounished when you'll find out he has been obsessed with you for far longer.

Kuai Liang:

-"Liang listen to me!" "No! I've already decided." -You follow him through the chambers of his mansion as best as you can since he is almost running. -"It is an important package, and I'm the only one free that can deliver it to Lord Liu Kang. Let me-" "For the last time, no." Liang finally turns around, eyes firm and eyebrows furrowed, making you take a step back for how big and imposing he looks right now. -"But why…I know I'm not a strong warrior but-" You feel your voice breaking and you hate it, but as a side effect Liang expression softens up. His hands that were tight on his side now reach for your cheeks. "Don't cry." "I'm not. But the world is at risk Liang! My life has no value compared to-" -You can't finish the phrase, your grandmaster soft lips shutting you up. Liang removes himself immediately, your kiss lasting as long as a blink of an eye, his soft black eyes looking at you. -He even crouches a little, waiting to understand your reaction, his thick fingers drawing circles on the apple of your cheeks, removing some tears that slip your eyes. -Liang decides to be the first to talk, breaking the silence. "There is no world for me if you aren't in it. No world matters if you don't live in it. Don't go 'till I get back." His forehead knocks against yours, eyes now closed, and his feelings for you now clear. -You gasp, no words leave your mouth, no muscle moving. Not until Liang opens his eyes again, and finally, your body works. -And Liang sees it, the same fire that burns him alive every time he looks at you, that turns to ashes any thought that isn't you, monopolising his entire being. -This kiss is way more intense, your hands grip his collar, pushing him close to your body, not a single gap for air. His right hand rests tight on the back of your head while the other slips lower, massaging and groping. -If only he had a bit more of time… -"I have to go now, fireball." Liang whispers to your lips. "Don't go until I'm back. Be good, and we will be able to do this and much more." He smirks, eyes full of mirth. -You nod. This time he won.

Tomas Vrbada:

-"You are wrong and being stubborn." "I know what I'm talking about. You are being contrarian!" -You both are walking at Madame Bo restaurant, customers long gone, just the two of you arguing. -Why? Who remembers, you just know you want to be right and Tomas is on the same wavelength. -"You know I am right. You are just being childish." He tells you, with that damn finger pointing at you. Of all the habits he could take from his big brother, the finger-pointing one irate you like nothing else. -You look at him, Tomas looks delightful, cheeks slightly red from anger, his eyes magnetic, and he reeks confidence. Maybe you don't mind this side. -"You always want to win. You are such a younger brother." You can't hear it, but you see something snapping in his brain. You struck a nerve, and his mind is ready to throw a reply that will literally devour you. -But your mind is faster, finding a solution that won't make you win, but also won't make Tomas explode. -Your lips push against his ones, and after a second of surprise Tomas reciprocates, much angrier than you, much more forceful. -You soon find your back against one of the wooden tables of the restaurant. Tomas grips an angle of tablecloth and pushes it down, the tableware following, breaking into pieces. He doesn't seem to mind, breaking the kiss just to push you on the table. -Madame Bo will kill both of you. -Tomas starts to kiss down your neck, kisses soon turns into small bites. "T-Tomas." He looks at you, mouth still dangerously close to your neck. "Do you even remember why we started arguing?" His smile wicked, his usual angelic face looking devilish. "Fuck no. For sure, it wasn't as good as this-" You gasp, Tomas teeth sinking into the skin of your throat. "I agree with you." "Then come back here, I haven't finished kissing you." "Yes, ma'am." -Fingers skillfully untie the strings of his uniform, your pants being pulled down as quickly. -You are right at the end. The method of fermentation of Tomas' favourite radish isn't as interesting as this.

BONUS:

Anon don't gatekeep, say the name of the novel.

No fr I'm curious.

Maybe if I read I can also yk, improve lol.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Omg I’m literally dying for more princess and bucky

18+ | Please send more asks I love them!! | 18+

They’re literally all I can think about right now anonnie!

I have another lil fic of them festering but while you wait: can you imagine how Bucky would punish her in public.

He can’t do the usual elaborate and strung-out disciplining but Bucky is creative; he knows exactly how to make sure his brat stays in her lane.

One time she got real lippy to a tailor, he’d stitched the dress all wrong, I mean who would even wear something like that? She scoffed at the way it hugged her frame incorrectly and chewed the older man out. Bucky heard the earful from the other side of the door and slid in silently, making sure the tailor didn’t hear him as he leaned against the wall.

A pointed look her way, that’s all the warning Bucky gave, letting her know she’d done fucked up. She suppressed the slight wobble in her legs, chalking it down to ‘the most uncomfortable pair of fucking heels she’d ever graced with her feet’.

“I-I-I’ll help you out” the man spoke, accent running thick as he reached out to help her.

“That won’t be necessary, go take five” Bucky interrupted, voice as smooth and as stable as ever, not a hint of the domineering attitude he held towards Princess, he didn't even react when the tailor squealed like a pig at the sound of his voice.

As soon as the man scurried off Bucky was in her face, middle and ring finger pushing roughly against her plush lips.

“Suck.” He growled but a look of defiance crossed her eyes, she’d been challenging him more recently - he’d let some rules slip unpunished since she was being such a good girl but it only manifested into this.

“You’re gonna want them to be wet Princess” Bucky warned, pinching the back of her arm until she yelped. She gagged roughly as his thick fingers buried themselves to the hilt, running along her tongue, saliva dribbling out the sides of her mouth and joining with blackened tears from her running mascara

“That’s all that fucking mouth is good for, you hear? Think you’re fucking special? Hell no, you ain’t shit, nothing more than a set of fucking holes for me to use and I don’t like my things being such fucking brats” his free hand had made its way up to her neck, thumb squeezing over that point that had her head fuzzy and knees weak.

“You want my cock? Is that what you want…you’ve not had it in a couple of days, is this how you think you’re gonna get it? His digits slipped from her hot cavern, pinching her tongue and pulling on it a little as they fell across her face in a soft, wet slap. His eyebrow raised, face inches away from hers as he waited for her answer.

“I want it..want your cock” fucking whimpering slut, didn’t take for his Princess to fall back into line.

“Oh yeah? You want it? You want it, Princess?” He bucked his hips into her side, his tented slacks running delightfully over her hip and hand.

When she nodded frantically, pushing against him, fingers twitching to touch him, squeeze him - anything, but she knew better - he’d won. He bared his teeth in a smug grin before releasing her entirely.

“Shouldn’t have acted like a spoiled little girl then hmm?” He mocked, moaning softly as he squeezed himself, biting back a wider smile at her whimpering form.

She never did get his cock that night, or the next one, or the next.

- Bonus -

“Please Bucky!! I’m fucking desperate” tears fell from her eyes as her thighs clenched at the shuddering breaths falling from his lips.

He chuckled breathlessly, tongue poking to wet his lips, his throbbing length pulled from his slacks and resting against his shirt, plush red tip drooling all over the material. He sucked up the rest of the brandy from his glass before wrapping a hand around his cock. Her eyes rolled back into her skull at the sight.

“Ah-ah Princess you fucking look at me, I’m gonna please myself and you’re gonna watch… keep those fucking legs open wanna see those panties fucking soak themselves at the sight of me” he couldn’t suppress the mocking laugh that bubbled from his throat at her desperate pleas.

-

Whew lord have merthy 🫠

[moonlightazriel]

Chapter 2: New world same problems /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N meets their leader and get some answers.

Word Count: 3,2K

Warnings: Just some angst and swearing.

Notes: I hate how tumblr posts drafts when you edit them, so we had another leak with this one. Great just great. Also, if you're not getting notified even if you're in the taglist, please let me know!!

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

Green liquid dripped from the beast's exposed teeth, as well as the thorns adorned the tail he had placed in front of her as a barrier. They had no way of getting closer to her, the option was either get eaten or get poisoned, if the flowers dying where the liquid touched was any indication of it. 

Cassian knew that too, and he motioned for Azriel to leave his shadows by his side so he wouldn’t scare the female. If he dared turn away from her, he would see that his shadows were already pooled by his feet, calmly resting like they did when no threat lingered around. 

“You’re in Prythian.” Cassian started, hands projecting away from his body in an attempt to appear friendly, voice loud and calm, she had to trust them. His eyes were slightly wide with panic, the monster she called a pet making his bone chill.

“We’re not in Erilea?” The female spoke in clear shock, her eyes squinted as she analysed her surroundings. The city in the back, a bit far away from where she stood now. They wouldn’t be able to call for help quick enough if she and Meraxes decided to attack. The wyvern’s head went forward in motion with her clutching her sword harder and sliding a foot forward, to give her stability to jump on them.

Azriel could almost hear the engines turning around in her head. She had maybe thought this was Wendlyn or some of the other fae territories she hadn't visited yet. And then his ears caught the lack of whispers, not a single word left his shadows, and he dared looking down. They rested peacefully, some strands looking like they were running after others, in a playful game of hide and seek. 

He didn’t know what this could possibly mean. He tried to command them to go after her, some of them darted towards the female, spinning around her calves. She looked down, confusing lacing both of their features. She bared her teeth, sword going down with a low whistle, cutting the shadows connecting them both.

“Keep them away from me.” She barked, and the dragon growled in unison. Now Cassian was 100 percent sure that the monster would do anything to protect its rider, which really complicated things a bit more. 

“We don’t know what this place is, but you’re in the Night Court, in Prythian.” Cassian elaborated, bringing back the attention to him, her eyes scanned his face for any signs that could indicate that he was lying but found none. Rhysand scrapped their mental shields, telling them that Morrigan was going there. 

Y/N watched as a female appeared from the shadows, right in between the two males, eyes of a dark brown and a long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. Mor watched the scene, looking at the female and her companion, eyes sparkling with admiration at the huge thing. 

“Who are you?” She inquired, blue eyes glued to Morrigan’s. Her body was so tense, feeling so rigid, like a band ready to snap. Her eyes glued to the trio in front of her, she wanted to look up, to where that gap had been, spitting her into this unknown land. She clutched her free hand in a fist as a thought took over her head. 

How the hell would she go back home? 

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, forcing the wild waves of emotions that threatened to flood her chest and drown her to calm the fuck down. Never show others that you’re weak, never let them see your emotions, you were born for war, born to be a weapon, act like one. That disgusting voice of the Martron filled her mind and she took a deep breath.

“I’m Morrigan, and I'm here to help.” The two flanked the female and she thought that maybe she was their queen. Steadying her breath, focusing on keeping her wobbly knees from giving out, she spoke. 

“Finally.” She groaned, hand still gripping the sword, but she clicked her jaw, her iron teeth going back inside her gum. “I’m assuming you’re their queen, exactly who I would like to speak to.” She started, but the male covered in red stones laughed, his laughter sounding like thunder. She looked at him with her eyebrows rising to her hairline. 

“Please, never say something like that again or else she will become an even bigger asshole.” Even the quiet male with the shadows smiled at that, a beautiful smile, that once again felt so familiar that her heart ached. Morrigan rolled her eyes.

“They wish I was their queen, but do you wish to speak with our leader?” Y/N nodded. “We can take you to him.” She offered. 

“How do i know that the second i let my guard down your two bats won’t kill me and my wyvern?” Azriel watched the beast, finally putting a name to it. His gaze turned back to her, she had a very fair point.

“Because my power is the truth.” The female replied and before she could ask what the fuck that even meant, she continued. “I cannot lie, if I tried I would be in immense pain right now, and I know when others are lying.” She concluded. 

Just like a human King once could, she had heard about the power of the truth, Dorian possessed it even if he thought it was related to his sword. Asterin told her about it, she could almost hear her voice as they reunited around a fire, when she deserted from the Ferian Gap and ran away with the Thirteen to find the Crochans. 

And if she closed her eyes, she could see Asterin smiling at her, telling her to open her heart more, and that she should follow the female. She took another deep breath to steady her heart, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, with a shuddering voice, she spoke.

“Lead the way.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Meraxes’ wings carried her over the city, towards a mountain. She looked down, buildings adorned the streets, people stopped in their tracks, watching with curiosity the winged shadow that crossed just above their heads. A river glistened in the sun, following in the middle of the city until it disappeared between the mountains. Shops everywhere, people buying things, kids laughing and running. She thought of her home, and how hard they were working so they could have something like this to call their own. 

She dreamed of leaving the palace, having a small cabin for her, a garden with a large tree so she could rest by the end of the day, sitting in its shadows and reading her books. A tiny library to store them and a kitchen to perfect her baking skills, she wanted to learn about so much, and have a place to belong. 

She also wanted to learn about gardening, harvesting her own vegetables and fruits to bake fresh goodies, but mostly because she wanted a big flower field, with so many flowers that Meraxes would never get tired of getting to know every single one.

She shook her head, letting those thoughts be carried away with the winds that whipped her hair against her cold face. And as she looked forward again she spotted a residence carved into the mountain, the two winged males flew in front of her, guiding the way. She knew this was probably not the smartest idea, but if she wanted answers, who’s better than the owner of the place?

The males landed on a balcony, and Meraxes did the same, its claws digging into the stone of the mountain, waiting for her to get off the saddle and slide down his leg. Its huge head turned towards something in the distance and she groaned in annoyance.

The males watched her, and they had to hold back a smile as she adjusted her clothes, getting ready to walk forward, just to be brutally shoved by the wyvern’s nose, she almost fell. She turned to him with a death glare, in a staring match like they were having a conversation. 

“Fine!” She gave in. “If they kill me, at least have the decency to take some of your precious flowers to my fucking grave.” The wyvern roared and the whole mountain shook when it flew away. 

“Where is he going?” Azriel asked, eyeing the beautiful creature, its powerful muscles contracting as the wings moved in the sky. Cassian on the other hand was looking at it with worry. Would they really let that dangerous animal fly around as it pleased? 

“There’s no need to worry.” She stopped in front of him. “Meraxes is rather fond of flowers, the only thing he’ll destroy are the poor fields.” She pointed to where he flew in the distance, completely ignoring the city and aiming for the open fields away from the houses. The male with the red stones seemed to relax a bit hearing it. 

“Welcome to the House of Wind then.” Cassian gestured to the open door and she entered, the two following her close. She looked around, dark stone walls, fancy furniture adorning the space that looked like a living room. Hallways leading to hidden rooms and a big fireplace was lit. She noticed that in that room the only door was blocked by the two males, but there were plenty of windows she could jump out if things went south. 

Power lingered around the room, darkness sweeping in the corners of her mind. From the corner of a room a male appeared, he had violet eyes and dark hair, pointy ears peeking from his hair and a very tired expression. He looked just like her. 

Y/N hissed, her claws and teeth ready to attack, she backed away, her back hitting the hard chest of the Shadowsinger. The feeling of her tensed back pressed against his front, and the fact that she didn’t even realise what she had bumped into sent a wave of electricity zipping through his body. Her smell hit his nose, he had never smelled something like her before, but it somehow felt so familiar that he almost lost himself in it. She smelled like a rainy day with a tint of red wine, completely addicting. 

She felt the wall behind her back, not daring to take her eyes away from him, feeling her chest move with rapid breaths, she was trapped there with that demon. By the amount of power she could feel, and the slight scrape in her mental shields, she knew what he was before he even opened his mouth.

“Let me out, Valg scum.” She spat, anger lacing her tone. She didn’t have fire magic, but removing his head would be efficient too, even if she had to use her teeth to rip through the skin. The male looked at her confused. 

“This is our High Lord, Rhysand.” Azriel spoke from behind her, she turned her head to see him standing there, golden eyes fixed on hers, his figure towering hers, and as much as the idea of killing him made her feel weird and made her chest heavy, she would have to start with him if she wanted to kill the valg standing in front of her. 

“I don’t care about his name, I know what you are.” Not again, the horrors the Valg had done to her people, she had seen the witches being used to breed their babies. She stepped forward, to create some room between her and the male behind her. But now she was trapped with the three circling her, she cursed under her breath. 

“I won’t harm you.” Rhysand approached, she was clearly distressed, he could smell her nervousness, the anger boiling in her veins. Her eyebrows were furrowed, a defensive stance. She reached for her sword, prompting Azriel to reach for his dagger and Cassian for his sword too. “I don’t know what a Valg is, but I can assure you, I'm half fae and half illyrian.”

“Funny, Maeve also claimed she was a fae, but she was a fucking Valg Queen. Do not get closer to me if you don’t want to get impaled by my sword.” Nothing she said made sense.

“I’m not Valg or anything.” He started, hands lowering in the air to tell the illyrians to lower their weapons, this would only make her more nervous. 

“Prove it.” She challenged him.

“How?” He inquired, rubbing his temple in a tired motion, he had dealt with so much today, all he wanted to do was to be by his mate and son’s side. 

“Just a small cut, Valgs bleed black, like the putrid beings they are.” The two males behind her shared a look, he wouldn’t do it, would him? 

“Then do it, to prove that I'm speaking the truth.” He extended his arm to her, Y/N grabbed his wrist harshly with one hand, with the other, she dragged her iron claws along his skin, he winced, but red blood started to leak from the cut. “See? Not black.”

She immediately relaxed, letting him go. It didn’t make any sense, he looked so much like her, their powers almost the same. Her shoulders slumped and she let out a shaken breath, those emotions threatening to spill once more. She sheathed her sword back into place and closed her hands in fists to ground her, iron claws digging through the flesh, the pain helped her to stay in reality and keep her emotions controlled. 

Azriel smelled the faint metallic scent of blood, his eyes immediately drawn to her clenched fists, a tiny trail of blue blood slided down her hands and he had to hold himself from grabbing her hands and make her stop, the feeling in his chest of seeing her in such distressed state was strange, he couldn’t tell what he was feeling and this made him confused, he hated not knowing what to feel or say. 

“Please, have a seat, we have a lot to talk about.” Rhys gestured towards the comfortable couch in front of her and she sat, before her knees failed and she fell to the ground.

“I suppose we do.” It was only then that he noticed that despite speaking their language, she had a thick accent to it, one he had never heard before but  he liked it very much, and the Shadowsinger found himself wanting to hear more of it. 

“Let’s begin with simple questions. I’m Rhysand, these are Cassian..” He gestured to the male with red stones and longer hair, he nodded his head towards her. “And this is Azriel.” Azriel, she repeated inaudibly, wanting to test the words in her mouth, the name lighting something within her. 

“I’m Y/N. Y/N Blackbeak.” She introduced herself. “And that was Meraxes, my wyvern.” If she wanted them to help her, she would have to give them information, those kinds of things only worked with trust as Sorrel once told her. The male nodded.

“Where are you from?” She clearly wasn’t from Prythian or any land they knew, and Rhysand had a vague memory crossing his mind, the shooting star, the different smell and his power hitting it, slowing it down. 

“The Witch Kingdom in Erilea. I’m an Ironteeth witch.” It all made sense then, the claws and the teeth she had. Interesting. 

“We have never heard of such a place, how did you get here?” Rhysand asked, saying he was confused was a nice way to put it, he was completely lost. 

“I was having a beer with Fenrys..” She stopped, in a swift motion she was standing, like she could go back to him, she knew he would be looking for her soon, he had lost so much, she didn’t want to add more to his suffering. “Oh Mother, poor Fenrys.” She spoke to herself, slumping back in her seat.

 Azriel watched the scene, the male’s name making him puff his chest and take a deep breath. Cassian looked over at his brother and if he didn’t know any better, he could swear that Azriel was jealous. 

“They said I was being called to deal with the gap, so I flew there with my alliance. I got there and this slit was there, it felt like it was calling me, sunlight peeked through it. I got too close and when I opened my eyes again I was in that field and the gap was gone.” Rhysand didn’t know what this meant, a gap that made you travel to another world?

“So you didn’t come here because you wanted to?” She scoffed.

“Well, i was dealing with a lot of shit, but i don’t think  jumping to another fucking world would solve any of them, so no, i didn’t came here because i wanted.” Sarcasm laced her tone and she crossed her arms over her full chest. “I just want to go home, they need me there.” She said, and she wasn’t sure if it was to convince them or herself, she shoved the thought in the darkest corner of her mind, not wanting to think about it right now. 

“I’m sorry this happened to you, we have no idea how to send you back, but you can stay here while we figure it out.” Rhys offered and she nodded, she didn’t have anywhere else to go anyway. 

“Thank you for your kindness.” She felt her head throb and the scar itchy, she looked around and caught Azriel staring at her, his eyes glued to the scar on her face, she cringed in her seat, trying to resist the urge to hide whenever someone stared for too long. 

“You’re welcome.” He turned to the males. “Az, can you show her a room?” His tired eyes made Azriel accept. He started to walk and he heard her getting up to follow him when Cassian cleared his throat.

“HEY.” They all turned back to him. “Aren’t we discussing the most important matter?” Azriel watched as she tilted her head to the side, in a really cute way.

“What matters, Cassian?” Rhys sounded tired, he just wanted to go home.

“What does that thing eat?” Y/N looked at him, what if they didn’t have sheep for him? His favourite food. 

“Firstly, he’s not a thing, do not talk about Meraxes that way.” She warned, those strangers wouldn’t treat her baby that way. “Secondly, he loves sheep, as long as you guys have it, he will be fine.” Cassian cracked a smile.

“I wasn’t expecting sheep to be his favourite meal, I was guessing on innocent screaming people.” She rolled her eyes trying hard not to smile. 

“Nah, they make him throw up.” And with that, leaving an astonished Cassian behind, she followed the Shadowsinger. 

They walked in silence, she felt her chest heavy and all the events of the day weighing on her, she had her control slipping through her fingers, and when Azriel opened a door to a bedroom, she ran inside, knuckles turning white as she held the wooden door.

“If you need anything, my room is on the other side of the hallway, " he pointed to the door in front of her.

“Thank you, Azriel.” His name on her tongue sounded divine. She closed the door with a loud thud, leaving him standing on the other side, his shadows wanting to reach out for her from under the door, but he held them close to him.

She felt the room spinning, her breath getting stuck in her dry throat, and when everything finally sunk in, the dam broke.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @fieldofdaisiies @blackgirlmagicforever @a-frog-with-a-laptop @going-through-shit @asweetblueberry2

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@willowpains

[thunder-wolf64]

Time has come for a pinned post, sigh ...

Online status: Fishing 🎣

Hello!!!

I am Thunder-wolf64, but please call me Thunder!

My preferred pronouns are she/her but I also like they/them or even he/him, mess around with it if you'd like! It makes life a bit more exciting!

I am a MINOR. I shouldn't have to elaborate on what that means. I have the standard DNI list, but I would also like to mention please don't joke about/ talk about alcohol, drugs, smoking, vaping, substance abuse, or anything under similar categories. You can interact with me if that is your kind of thing, but please don't mention it around me.

Otherwise feel free to message me and chat, I'm a flighty person and get quickly exhausted talking to people; so please excuse any rudeness on my part, I'm working on it.

I am also a slow typer and appreciate tone indicators.

About me!

I am a self taught artist, I've been doing digital art since I was 11! The program I use is ibispaintx premium version with a stylus.

I am in school, so I can't post as frequently as possible.

My other hobbies include writing, hanging out with animals, fishing, talking to myself, yapping.

My tags!!!!

Most are self explanatory, I'll just put the highlights in.

#my art - self explanatory, check this tag out for every single piece of art I've posted.

#thunder's rumbles - rants on my life or my characters

#txt post - posts containing only text

#asks -any ask that has been answered

#thunder fishes - a tag about fishing

I use cw's and tw's but mostly the former. I do occasionally post, or talk about my mental health. I usually tag those though.

#my ocs - trying to use this for gift art I've received now

#rw sizzling waters - an au I'm making that is gaining traction!

Art Permissions!

You can use my art as long as you provide clear credit to me and do not claim it or use it for ai.

You can use my designs of pre-existing characters but not ocs.

My current interest: Rain World

Some random things I occasionally remember I love (could be used as a conversation starter):

Manned wolves, river formations, little big planet, glass animals, modest mouse, my common yt rabbit holes, weather phenomenons, worms on a string, dachshund, and so much more.

Cool things credit: teeth dividers

Thanks for visiting!

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Please

Kinktober day 2! Song is Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter. Modern AU Gale x Tav.

Doe perched at the bar, bathed in neon lights. She ran a long nail around the rim of her cocktail glass, gazing into its sweet red depths. It was almost full, and she was bored; the grape-press crush of bodies was a mush of neon pinks and lime greens and the occasional flash of blinding blue-white teeth in the blue gloom.

She scanned the bodies, trying not to inhale the heady mix of dried sweat and spirits, and the gentle ghost of vomit. Her date had vanished, his curly hair indistinguishable in the crowd.

'Fuck sake,' she muttered. Sitting with her chin in her hand, she barely noticed when the stool next to hers was occupied, until a piece of paper slid under her nose.

you look in need of rescue

written in neat cursive. She read the words once more, chancing a glance to the side.

'Gale?' she mouthed. His dark eyes glittered in the bright lights, shirt crisp and glowing. He offered a sympathetic smile, slid gracefully off his stool and offered a hand. She hesitated and then took it, his warm grasp anchoring her as they wove through the crowd and into the chilly air outside.

'You need to stop going on dates with men who don't appreciate you,' he said by way of greeting.

'Rude,' she shot back, stung. 'Why's that your business?'

'Doe,' he said, squeezing her hand. 'You're a clever, capable, gorgeous girl. You're wasted on the likes of Aradin.'

He gazed down at her, his eyes warm but serious.

'We've known each other for years and you tell me this now?' she asked, tilting her head.

'Look, this isn't a pass,' he said, dropping her hand and taking a step back. 'I don't mean it to come off like that. I just mean that you-' he looked away. His jaw tensed and he exhaled through his nose, a stream of white smoke in the dark. 'You deserve better.'

I must be dreaming. Gale Dekarios, the man I've been crushing on for years now...

'Mr Dekarios, are you asking me on a date?'

Of course not. He's just being nice. Preposterous. Idiot.

He looked up, hope alighting in his gaze. 'Would you accept?'

Oh holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fu-

'Depends.' She tried keeping things light and playful, even as her heart was in her throat. The effect was slightly marred by the way she trembled. 'Where would you take me?'

His cheeks flushed pink and he licked his lips, voice a croak when he spoke again. 'Oh, anywhere you wanted.'

Warmth pooled in her stomach. Oh, gods.

'Here.' He took off his tweed jacket, draped it around her bare shoulders. She was enveloped in the smell of books and sandalwood, coffee and vanilla. She huddled into it, even though the sleeves were far too long.

'Oh, you smell good,' she said without thinking. She felt the blush from the roots of her hair down her neck. 'Fuck, I didn't-'

'Come home with me.'

'What?' She blinked at him, bug-eyed, her heart hammering. 'Did you just say?'

'Pretty please?' he asked, mouth quirking into a sheepish smile. 'Pretty please with a cherry on top?' He held out his hand, wiggled his fingers, raised an enquiring brow.

'You're so silly,' she said.

'Call me a diviner, but I think you like silly.'

'Maybe a bit,' she said, taking his hand.

'I hope you don't mind,' he said. 'But we'll being going home by bike.'

'Oh.' She giggled in confusion. 'Like... a tandem bike?'

'No,' he smirked. He wouldn't elaborate, walking silently with her hand held firmly in his. And then he stopped down a side street.

In front of a shining black motorcycle.

'Oh,' she said.

He dropped her hand and opened the saddlebags. 'I always keep a spare,' he said, extracting a bright purple helmet. 'Here. Oh, and-' he pushed up his shirt sleeve, pulled a silk scrunchie from his wrist. 'You don't want your hair to turn into a tangled mess.'

The unspoken hung in the air.

Yet.

She tied her hair back, watched him retrieve another tie from the opposite wrist and do the same, then pull on a snug black leather jacket, gloves, and his helmet.

'Clip it under your chin,' he said, swinging a long leg over the bike. 'Climb up behind me and hang on tight. Remember to lean when I do.'

She swung up behind him, grateful that she'd opted for leather trousers instead of a skirt, winding her hands around his waist. The bike roared to life, purring beneath her. Gale nudged the kickstand with his boot and they were off, the city flashing past them in bright swathes of colour. He wove expertly through traffic, laughing in delight as he pushed the bike faster, until they were going 90mph and both of them were laughing like lunatics.

The wind cut through the jacket she wore, chilling her to the bone, but she didn't care; Gale radiated warmth and she could barely breathe with the exhilaration of it.

And all too soon, they were slowing, pulling up in front of a smart townhouse. They dismounted, helmets and leathers packed back into the saddlebags, and then he was bounding up the front steps and unlocking the door. Doe giggled when he threw it open dramatically and swept into a bow as she stepped over the threshold.

'I hope you'll forgive my lack of decorum,' he said lowly as he closed the door behind them. 'But I have been wanting to do this since I saw you at the bar.'

And then her back was against the wall, his warm body pinning hers, belly to belly and chest to chest. His knee slid between her thighs, his mouth on her mouth, his fingers twining with hers, held either side of her head.

'And you seemed so sweet,' she gasped when they broke apart, nose to nose.

'Perish the thought,' he said, the husky rumble of his voice shuddering through her body. 'Gods, the things I'm going to do to you...'

He kissed her again, slid a hand into her hair and bared her throat, sucking hickeys into her pulse, down to her shoulder, nibbling gently.

'Tell me,' she gasped.

'Mmph,' he said in protest, mid-kiss. 'But that means I have to stop kissing you.'

'A compelling argument, but- ngh-'

'Hmm. Okay, sweet girl,' he said, rising to kiss her lips again. His eyes smouldered. 'I'm going to fuck you against this wall.' He kissed her again. 'And then bend you over my desk.' Another kiss. 'And then on the sofa, in the shower, in my bed...' he pulled on her earlobe with his teeth. 'How does that sound?'

Like heaven.

'Like a challenge,' she gasps. 'For how many times you can make me come.'

'Hardly a challenge,' he says flippantly. Her heart stuttered. 'I bet he never even knelt for you, did he?'

Ah. So you're proving a point.

'No.'

He made a noise of disgust. 'Hmph.'

'Well?' She strained against his restraining hands. 'Get on with it.'

He smiled wickedly at her. 'Say please.'

A flare of defiance rose in her chest. She pulled against his grip to kiss him again, but he pulled tantilisingly out of reach. 'Gale-'

'Come on,' he grinned. 'Beg.'

She growled, squirming in his grip. 'Please.'

'You can do better,' he crooned.

'For fuck sake,' she whined in frustration. 'Please. Gale, godsdamn it those better be promises. I want you to fuck me all over this beautiful house.'

'Hmm.' He deliberated, eyes glittering. 'Since you've been such a good girl... why not?'

Tags:

@bluerosetarot @dansnotavampire @further-than-forever

@forget-me-maybe @poetryvampire @sasha199 @wandawillow

@boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana @amorgansgal

@aryancunin @miradelletarot @marlowethebard

@crimson-and-lavender @reeseykins @medra-gonbites

@roguishcat @weaverofnetheril @galedekarioswifey @hyperfixationstation128 @lastlight-inn

@astarryvamp @feedthepheasants @dabigstinky @dreamingofthewild @ladyofcrowsandcoffee

@femmefuck

[holdmymallowsweet]

Tooth for a Nose

Inspired by @alibasnur, I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but I had fun writing it ❤️

Summary: Being the petty children that they are, Sebastian and the new fifth year get into a fist fight. Sort of.

Word count: 825

The three of them sat in the library one afternoon, her and Sebastian still full of adrenaline from Crossed Wands.

“What do muggles do, when they need to settle a disagreement?” Sebastian asked her suddenly, lowering his book. “Is there such a thing as muggle duelling?”

“Sebastian, if you don’t want to finish your essay, fine by me. But please be quiet, some of us are trying to work,” Ominis answered in her stead.

Ignoring him, as she usually did when she saw a chance to escape schoolwork, she put her quill down. “There is, actually. They use Pistols.”

“Pistols?”

She thought about it for a moment. “They’re like muggle wands that can only perform the killing curse.”

“Oh?” Sebastian leaned forward, intrigued. “Please elaborate.”

“Please do not,” Ominis said warningly.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Still, that’s a bit extreme isn’t it?”

“There’s always fist fights,” she mused. “Surely you know what a fist fight is?”

“Obviously, but it’s not like I’d ever find myself in a muggle brawl when I can use magic,” Sebastian drawled.

Humming conspiratorially, she leaned closer herself, until they were merely a few inches apart. “Between the two of us, who do you think would win in a fist fight?”

Sebastian burst out laughing, getting little droplets of spit on Ominis’ hand, who smacked him on the arm with his rolled up parchment in turn. The laughing stopped when Sebastian saw her offended expression. “Wait, are you serious?”

“You think I can’t take you on,” she said flatly, “because I’m a girl.”

Sebastian groaned and rolled his eyes dramatically. “No, of course not. I just think pummeling someone half my size isn’t very sporting.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means ‘drop it, please’,” Ominis chimed in.

Mouth open for a retort, she stopped briefly. “Wait, I don’t think that’s what he meant at all.”

Ominis sighed. “No, I mean it. Can the both of you please stop acting like children? I don’t feel like collecting anyone’s teeth off the ground while you’re on stretchers on the way to the hospital wing.”

“Hear that? Ominis doesn’t want to collect your teeth. Perhaps you should drop it.” Sebastian barely managed to contort his smug grin into a genial smile while patting her patronisingly on the head.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Or perhaps, you’re just afraid of losing to a girl.”

“Funny.”

“No, I understand,” she went on, pretending to feel sorry for him. “After all, I’m better than you at wizard duelling, of course you’d be worried. Not a good look, getting pummeled by someone half your size.”

Ominis buried his face in his hands.

Sebastian put his book aside, with a fair bit more force than necessary. “Don’t push me.”

“Oh, I’d never. After all, Ominis doesn’t want to collect your teeth.”

Ominis made an indiscernible, strangled noise as Sebastian jumped to his feet. “You know what- fine. You want to take this outside?”

“NO,” Ominis shouted.

“Absolutely, ” she said with the utmost conviction.

“...I can’t believe you really hit her,” Ominis said.

“I didn’t.” Sitting on one of the beds in the hospital wing, one hand holding onto his tooth while the other one massaged his injured cheek, Sebastian shot his friend a look of utter indignation. “I would never- how could you even think that? I pretended to, just to scare her a bit, but she was already trying to punch me and I tried to avoid her and then we… sort of fell into each other’s fists,” he finished lamely. 

On the bed next to him, she tried to make a noise of agreement, kind of, it was a bit difficult as she presently needed her mouth to breathe.

“And I look much worse than her anyway,” Sebastian added.

Ominis nudged her foot with his own. “Does he?”

She tried to give Sebastian an appraising look- again, that sort of thing was kind of hard when one had a giant woollen rag bunched up in the middle of one’s face to stop a violent nosebleed. “I don’ ‘now. Maybe?”

“Oh come off it, I definitely look worse than you, I’ve lost my tooth and everything.”

Her face split into a giant grin- which looked sort of disturbing, now that her blood was seeping through the rag and trickled down her face. “-‘ad means I won.” 

Leaning back on his chair, Ominis gave both of them a derisive snort.

“What, anything you’d like to add?” Sebastian snapped. 

Ominis raised an eyebrow. “Yes, but I doubt you’d want to hear it.”

“Oh? Please, humour me.”

She laid back in her bed, making a frustrated gurgling noise.

“Fine.” Ominis took a deep breath. “You two are the world’s most childish, irresponsible moonminds, and it’s rich of you to complain about your present circumstance, considering even I could see it coming.��

Sebastian sat in stunned silence. It didn’t last long, given that it was Sebastian. “Do you want to take it outside?”

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐨𝐩

.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧

the ball of fear that has been churning inside you all weekend has manifested into something bigger and it’s relentless. it’s feels worse than tiny butterflies, more like moths. it’s more like the growing worry of having to approach your own shame like a criminal trudging to their execution. you don’t know what the boys have in store for you today and part of you hopes that that afternoon was a blip. they must’ve been doing a very elaborate prank and actually wanted nothing to do with you. that is until you catch sight of kuroo leaning against a locker, peering down on one of the younger girls.

no force could make you even go near his vicinity, your gut tells you to steer clear so you do. you just want to have your lunch in peace and hope to never be unfortunate enough to cross paths with them. this afternoon, you decide to make your way to a tree near the back of the school. the tree is large and flaky and the grass surrounding it is unappealing, but it’s good enough for you. away from the stupidity and chaos of your school. smoothing out your skirt you sit on the ground, surrounded by the large roots of the tree climbing out from underground. you’re about to sift through your bag and find the lunch you’ve packed for yourself until you realise it’s not with you.

uh oh.

in your history of existing, you’ve never once lost anything, you’re not careless enough to leave your bad behind/ but before you can scold yourself you remember that it’s not your fault your head’s out of the game. it’s theirs.

irritated, you stand from your spot, storming your way back into school. you aren’t entirely sure as to where you misplaced it, so you work backwards going to the place you were last. your classroom.

turning corners and walking upstairs. dodging people and people making way for you as you get to your science classroom. peering inside through the window you fail to see it from its restrictive viewing. so you try the door.

luckily it opens and you enter, but you still don’t see your bag. losing things is more discouraging than people make it seem.

“looking for this?” a voice emerges from behind you.

the familiar mop of brown hair causes a lump to get stuck in your throat, your fear settling within you again. you attempt to assert dominace in this situation but the flirtaous brunnete doesn’t let your attempt at reclaiming your power phase him. he’s sat on the teacher’s chair, his feet carelessly on the desk and he hold your belongings on the edge of his fingertips.

“give me my bag back.” you demand although your voice shaky.

“have you never heard of the magic word princess?” he says. evidently teasing and belittling you. your jaw clenches and you grit your teeth, holding back a numerous amount of snarky insults.

“i’d like it if you gave me my bag back.” he doesn’t move, he just sits and stares at you.

of course.

“you giving me my bag back would be greatly appreciated.” there’s a silence between the both of you.

“why can’t you do as you’re told?” he responds quickly.

“why can’t you stop being an annoying shit and give me my own stuff?”

“oo, she’s got a tongue. do i have to remind you how to use it around me?” he threatens, standing up from his seat and walking towards you. towering over you with his staggering height.

“i don’t need to do anything.”

“say it.”

“or what? we only agreed to fuck.” your tone aggressive.

“play nice or you know what.”

you bite your tongue again. visibly defeated.”please may i have my bag back?” you say lowly, jaw tense.

pleased, oikawa hands your bag back, “yes you may.” you snatch it off him and scoff as you walk away.

“where do you think you’re going?” he asks. “you have to show me you’re sorry for how you spoke to me before. it really hurt me.” he says with a smirk, walking back to sit on the chair.

“what do you want? money?” to which he shakes his head, maintaining eye contact with you as he man spread in the chair.

“come blow me, pretty.” you feel your heart drop to your ass.

“are you crazy! you want me to do that in a classroom, where a teacher could walk in any minute? where a student could walk by any second? it’s like you’re begin for me to get caught and expelled.”

“no never. i’d never wish such a thing.” he says “i just think the thrill of getting caught would do us both good.”

“but-”

“no one’s coming here. we’ve already taken care of that part. now don’t take too long or lessons are gonna start.”

there’s a twang in your heart as you drop your bag near the desk and walk to your demise. dropping to your knees and gathering your hair in a ponytail, you look up at him, waiting to be told what to do next. he’s amused. seeing you like this, in this state. vulnerable.

sick bastard.

“go on. unzip.” he commands. you hesitate for a minute before your careful hands reach out to his zipper, pulling it down and pulling the band of his briefs down slightly. his dick springs out, touching his stomach.

you gulp nervously as you take it in your hands. one hand moving slowly as you pump him the other pushing your hair behind your ear. you open your mouth as you approach his dick, making eye contact with him before latching your lips and wrapping them around his cock. with slow, languid movements, you bob your head up and down again this length. with gained confidence and increased speed, you begin including head tilts and using your hand again. oikawa seems to be enjoying this plenty, with the way he drops his head back and groans. with his dick now lubricated by your spit, it’s easier for your hand to glide across his length. you let your tongue swivel around his sensitive tip and you watch as he hisses because of it. your large eye looking up at him curiously seems to turn him on further as he groans again.

“shit, i didn’t know you were so good at this princess. i knew your tongue was good for something.” he says, hand playing with the hair atop your head. you fight the urge to retaliate in any way to his statement and focus on getting the hell out of there. you moan as you bob your head, using your thumb to brush against his tip instead whenever your mouth isn’t on it anymore. the boy places a firm grip on your hair, forcing you all the way down his length, earning him an angry glare from you.

“message received.” he responds passively, focusing on enjoying his free service. enjoying as your warm little mouth coats his aching dick, and your plush, pillowy lips are placing quick kisses from your base to tip. teasingly, you take a breather, gathering spit in your mouth, making eye contact as you dribble your spit down on his dick, creating a mess. “fuck.” he says quietly.

you reattach your mouth to his dick, sensing that he’s close and use your hand to help you get there. by stroking him faster and keeping your cheeks hollowed, leaving a small pop sound whenever you moved away. “shit just like that baby.” he groans in ecstasy, redirecting his attention to you making a mess on his dick.

who knew little ms. principal could get so naughty, and was so good?

you moan with him, the reverberations of your moans sending through his dick and making him grip the armrests of the chair harder. “good girl, i’m gonna come down your throat m’kay?” he says. it was only a matter of time, a matter of strokes and pumps before he was seconds away from cumming down your throat. and in the very last moment, you stop and quickly walk away.

“wha- hey!” he’s stunned as you leave in a flurry, the school bell ringing as the door slams shut behind you. “what the fuck? bitch.”

⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲

(please send a dm or comment on my the pinned blog to join.)

taglist: @slutkoo

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

[coopigeoncoo]

Meat Cute, Chapter 6

Chapter Links: First, Previous <- Chapter 6 ->Next

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature (rating may change)

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change, Swearing

---

In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour!

---

“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”

–--

A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!

You handled the fall out from Alastor's previous visit in the most mature and level-headed fashion possible; by ignoring your coworkers’ teasing and pretending that absolutely nothing of note had happened.  

And aside from Dorcas’ incessant pestering about the events you would never deign to mention again, you were overall pleased with how successful your endeavor was.

That is until a veritable shadow arrived at the shop, a sharp-fanged piranha plant held between its transparent hands.  With a half bow and an elaborate flourish, the shadow extended the plant out towards you, expectantly waiting for you to accept its offering.  

“Oh, uh - thank you?” You said, unsure if touching shadows was some sort of social faux paus and doing your best to grab hold of the pot around its inky digits.  

The shadow chittered merrily as you investigated your gift, the carnivorous plant sniffing excitedly at the scent of blood that lingered on your skin.  Living plants were a rarity in the Pride Ring, a way for the well-to-do to flaunt their wealth and standing.  Dorcas peered at the plant over your shoulder, letting out appreciative ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as the plant fluttered its leaves much like a peacock shakes its tail; basking in the glow of your admiration.

You could have easily spent the rest of the day watching the plant, but your attention was stolen by a bright bolt of light as the shadow suddenly snapped, a creamy envelope materializing in an acid green haze between its outstretched hands.  

The letter floated in the air between you, and it took you an embarrassingly long time to realize that the shadow meant for you to take possession of this offering as well.  The envelope was sturdy, made from the sort of expensive paper your Grandpa had insisted you send resumes out on ‘to make a good impression’. 

“What is it?” Dorcas asked breathlessly, taking a hold of the plant pot to free up your hands.  

You pried open the deep red seal, taking care to not crack the intricate design that had been stamped into the wax; an eyeball with a slit pupil set in front of a musical staff full of discordant notes.  It was a bit of casual luxury that seemed so impossibly distant from your way of life where you pinched pennies together to afford packs of tissue-thin paper from the corner five-and-dime.  

“It's an invitation,” you stated in bewilderment after silently reading the immaculately penned card.

Dorcas was silent for a beat before she pushed the fang-tooth plant into your arms and swiped the invitation in one quick motion.  The little bulb in your hands starts to gnash its teeth towards your thumb, fluttering its leaves in obvious frustration when you pull your hand away and leave it snapping at empty air.  

“Looks like I'll be feeding you with tongs,” you coo chidingly to the plant as Dorcas reads over the invitation, her chest heaving in excitement. 

“Alastor, The Alastor,” she repeated with unnecessary emphasis. “Has invited you to a party at the hotel.” 

“That seems to be the case, yes.”

“Are you- are you actually going to attend?”

Considering there wasn't any information printed to RSVP, it appeared to you that this was to be taken as more of a formal summons than a polite invitation.  

“I don't think I have much of a choice,” you admit quietly, doing your best to level your breathing in an attempt to remain calm; aware that the shadow had yet to dissipate and would likely be reporting your actions back to its master in excruciating detail.

“Right,” Dorcas nodded, reading over the note for the umpteenth time when her head suddenly shot up in alarm. “What are you going to wear?”

Shit.

“Well, good morning sunshine!” Rosie greets brightly when you finally make it to the head of the line at the Emporium. “What brings ya’ to my neck of the woods?”

“I need your help, Ms. Rosie,” you croak pathetically, unable to put any energy into maintaining a congenial facade after enduring multiple sleepless nights; beset by worry as the date printed on the invitation drew ever closer. 

“That's what I'm here for!” Rosie assures you, patting your hand comfortingly.  Her fingers were unpleasantly boney and cold, but you appreciated the gesture just the same.  “Now, what can Rosie assist ya’ with?”

You reached wordlessly into your velveteen handbag, a second hand find worn thin at the edges, and handed the invitation to Rosie.

“I got this last week,” you explained as the Overlord read over the card. “There's no mention of dress code, so I have no clue what would be appropriate.  And even if I did know, I'm not sure I would be able to afford it anyway-”

Rosie daintily held up her pointer finger, which not only silenced you, but everyone in the immediate vicinity.  

“Let me make sure I've got this straight,” Rosie said, her voice level and unsettlingly calm.  “Alastor has invited you to a garden party at the Hazbin Hotel.”

You tried to not be offended by the disbelief heavy in her words and mentally shrug off the slight, but it still stung.  

“Yes,” you nod your head slightly in affirmation, reaching into your handbag once again and withdrawing a handful of pendants and brooches you had carved; laying them out gently on the counter between you.  “I don't have a lot of cash at the moment, but I was hoping that maybe you'd take these in exchange for- for something.  Anything, really.”

“These certainly are lovely,” Rosie said as she picked up your newest creation, a large pin carved to look like a gaping, sharp toothed maw.  “and I'd certainly love to talk about selling these in my shop in the future.”

“Really?”  You gasped, your heart suddenly bursting with pride at the notion that Ms. Rosie thought your creations were good enough to not just sell, but were good enough to sell in her very posh store.

“I won't be accepting them as payment though,” Rosie informed you gently, pushing them back across the counter to you to collect back up.

The warm glow of pride in your chest was quickly extinguished by a crashing swell of panic.  It had been a long shot, offering up your handmade goods for Rosie's couture fashion, but they were the only things of any value you possessed.  

You had briefly thought about offering up your carnivorous plant, affectionately named Captain Crunch due to its love of chewing on bones as loudly as possible; but you had grown fond of the tiny shrub.  Caring for Captain brought you immense satisfaction, and you inevitably decided you were more willing to show up underdressed to a fancy party than part with your leafy companion.   

“I- I understand,” you warbled, holding back frustrated tears as you picked your jewelry back up with shaking hands. 

“I can't accept payment because I'm dressing ya' for free, ” Rosie beamed, apparently taking great satisfaction in sending you through an emotional spiral.  

“Oh,” you breathed in utter shock, barely comprehending the Overlord's generous proclamation.

“I'll fix ya’ up, bonnet to boots, on one condition,” Rosie said, holding up that commanding pointer finger again.

You weren't some wet behind the ears sinner, unknowingly agreeing to lopsided deals out of desperation.  This conversation was spiraling into dangerous territory and you needed to be on your guard, lest you end up bound into an afterlife of eternal servitude.

“What's your stipulation?”

Rosie grinned, apparently pleased at your shrewdness.  “I want to hear all the juicy details!”

“That's it?” You mumble, caught off guard by her mundane request.  “You don't want my soul or anything?”

“Oh, honey!” Rosie laughed.  “A good bit of gossip is way more valuable than any old soul!”

Tag List:

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@wendds