#I literally laid on my floor and like cried | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justbelievinginmagic · 12 days ago

Text

like a waltz⎯ part 1: brisé.

pairing(s): ateez ot8 x fem!reader; this chapter is seonghwa x reader focused & wooyoung x reader focused! series summary: when 8 mysterious bachelors arrive to town and fall for your charms, will you be able to reach your goal to be prima ballerina or be dragged into a selfish waltz between love and obsession? glimpse: the worst night of your life makes you recall what you thought was one of the best nights of you life - meeting jung wooyoung at the cromer opera house. warnings/tags: inspired by Ateez’s Ice on my Teeth MV & Teasers, Mafia AU, Ballet AU, early 1900’s AU with some divergences in tech advancements (i.e if i think itd be cool to include, this world has it earlier than irl), 3rd person POV, use of YN, mxm, polyteez, mature topics, strong language, ballet lore, angst, fluff, flirting, suggestive topics, violence, traumatic foot injury, unequal power dynamics, allusions to exploitation in ballet, pain, fear, injuries, alcohol mention, reader discretion advised. word count: 5.7k -> next chapter series masterlist

brisé ; french pronunciation: [bʁize]; literally 'broken'

All she had wanted her entire life was to be the ballerina prima. It was all she worked for. Every day she woke up to dance; she lived, breathed, ate for ballet. And she almost had it. It had been so close. The shining lights, the praise, the private dressing room, all for her. An escape from the shame of the petit rats, the groping from patrons, the reliance on a man’s wealth. She was going to be a star – in her own right. She was going to be a star.

Now, she laid in the dirty alley way, beaten and broken.

Through the torn bits of her hosiery, she could see her ankles were a purple-red color, splotched, like a gruesome Impressionist painting. The bones were at odd angles, too sharp, too extended for them to be not broken. Her hands shook as she tried to move them, tried to push at the pain that crept up her legs in a deafening manner. She could barely move them, roll them, anything without crying out in pain.

And cry she did. Wails escaped her chest in a mournful song. Her coal-mascara dripped down her rouged cheeks, melting into a mess and staining her mink fur coat. Their fur coat – their gift to her - that now felt suffocating around her, strands of the fur stuck to her sweatied skin and making her skin crawl with the feeling of maggots. She struggled to take it off, fighting with it as if it the animal had come back to life and was biting at her. Shoving it off and onto the alley floor with a huff, she moved to wipe her eyes with the backs of her hands. They too were injured. Her dainty fingers were scraped and cut up from the harsh cobblestone beneath her. Phalanges dripped ruby red, and most likely had been smudged over her face with a false rouge. If someone had caught a look, they’d be afraid her face was bleeding. Luckily, that had been spared; everything had been except for her feet. Just her legs were mangled, beaten, bludgeoned with bats, and crushed into the ground ‘til the bone creaked and shattered. Her poor dancing feet.

She hadn’t thought they would do it; she thought…

Jongho had cried for her the night before, pleaded with her as she told him her decision.

She should’ve known then.

Wooyoung advised against it after dinner, hissing out in fear that Hongjoong wouldn’t be happy.

She should’ve known then.

Yunho refused to see her that evening, locked away in his study.

She should’ve known then.

Seonghwa had even grabbed her hand this morning before she left the mansion; he had said nothing but his eyes were dark and cautioning as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

She should’ve taken his warning.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. His footsteps were heavy as he approached her. The familiar scent of his cologne that was once reassuring, exciting even, now made her face scrunch up into despair. She tried to shift away from him, wriggling away like a worm. Each bend of her ankles made agony crawl up her spine. Her throat flexed in pain and a whine escaped her chest unwillingly.

She couldn’t go far and Seonghwa easily pinned her down with simply a cold look in his eyes.

His eyes were always serious, a shadowy thing that only lightened around his lovers. But they did not lighten with her tonight. In fact, she swore they were the coldest she had seen them like a cold star staring back at her.

Seonghwa stopped in front of her with his feet straddled her legs; his perfect new shoes smelled of polish, expensive and shining. With a tilt of his head, he stared down at her with his handsome face shadowed by a large brimmed hat. She stared up at him, her mouth a scowl-like grimace.

His cool gaze carefully left her tear-sodden face to graze over her ankles. Blood coated her nylon tights, her knees rubied and torn. Her ankles looked worse for wear, twisted, mangled, and beaten. He could see the bone pressing into her bruised flesh, painting it ivory white.

“My dove,” he hummed out in a coo. He knelt. “My pretty dancer. Poor thing.”

Poor thing, he tutted. Poor thing, they all tutted. The same pathetic words from the matching mouths of rich folk who wanted to play with her like she was nothing but a ballerina doll spinning on a music box. Watching her spin around and around like a chicken with no head, whirling, out of breath for their amusement. All she had been was a marionette for them to play with. That’s what she realized she was even to him, even to them.

She stared up at him with a glower. She thought they were different.

“You did this.” She growled.

Her tone was low and vicious unlike anything he had heard from her before.

Seonghwa simply smiled. His carved lips twitched up on one side of his beautiful face, forming a wicked half-smile. His diamond-inlayed teeth glinted in the gas-lamp light that dripped into the alley way from the main road. A leather-gloved hand reached out to grasp her jaw, not unkindly but certainly with a firmness familiar for him. He directed her gaze his way, taking in the dripping stage-makeup. Surely it would leave oily remnants on his fingertips. Surely his touch would leave watercolored bruises on her jaw. He tutted again at her swollen waterlogged features. A smear of blood cut across the bridge of her nose. With the utmost care, firm and slow, he brushed away the grime. Blood seeped into his leathered gloved. Her blood.

“This is why Wooyoungie likes you so much,” he chuckled lowly. “You’re both brats at heart.”

Her mouth sneered in annoyance, mimicking a sneer she had seen him flash far too often. He thought this was nothing. That she was being disobedient for fun. Like this was just a horrible, horrible game. Despair filled her eyes as she tried to shift her jaw out of his hand with that, baring her teeth like a mongrel would. He caught her chin between harsh, gloved fingers again.

“But, like Wooyoung, I love you nonetheless,” he confessed. “Would do anything for you.”

His eyes were dark, inky, like tar swallowing her whole. But they were serious. Deadly so. Just like Hongjoong was when he had promised she’d regret her decision if she followed through with it.

Still, it ached like a lie. It ached bone-deep like her injuries. (She had seen the attackers’ tattoos on their skin. The word ‘A T E E Z’ inked onto their knuckles; ‘BLACK PIRATES’ on some of their bared arms. Their suits they wore were of the men at the mansion. The ski masks covering their features from view didn’t make them ghostly attackers like they had wished. She had seen the masked men before creeping out of the mansion’s office at the order of Yunho or Mingi.)

She wasn’t dumb.

His thumb caressed her cheek fondly. Expensive, freshly cleaned leather smooth and soft against her make-up muddied features.

“Let’s go home, hm?” he hummed. “You look like you need a warm bath and plenty of rest. We’ll have a doctor come assess your injuries, dove.”

And in a mimicry of a gentleman, he shrugged off his long coat to wrap around her – rather than grab her now-dirtied fur coat from the cobblestone floor. In fact, she bet he’d find it so filthy he’d leave it for the rats. Maybe another petit rat of the ballet would open the doors of the backstage only feet away and steal it away. With words of ‘oh, a patron gave it to me’ after she scrubbed and scrubbed the blood, the makeup, the grim away. Just as he’d do with her, wash it all away until she was shiny and new again.

With ease, he lifted her up into his arms, cradling her close as he rose to full height once more. There was no discussion. No mention of her apartment on the far side of town, her home; no, they would be heading to the strange mansion the Kim clan called home. His grip was firm on her as he exited the alley way of the Cromer Opera House.

It was on this day YN wished she had never met the charming second-youngest of the Kim clan that day in the foyer de la danse. Then, her life and livelihood wouldn’t have been stolen by the ones who had once admired her.

The foyer de la danse was known as simply the ballet boudoir to the ballerinas. While it was a sort of dressing room, sort of practice room all-in-one, it was also dreadfully unprivate. The intricately decorated room of gold and glamour was the perfect frame for a pretty picture. Tall mirrors enclosed the room on all sides as new gas-powered chandeliers high above lit the room in a bright golden glow, highlighting each of the girls in view. There were no dark corners, no privacy screens, just mirrors, gold, light, and pretty girls.

None of the male dancers were allowed here. None of the female patrons either. But men who had high-status or who scraped up enough money to spend to stare at the young girls prepare for the show would promenade around. Freshly pressed fine linen suits, luxurious watches on their wrists or in their breast pocket, expensive cologne mingling with the aroma of their expensive liquor. Greedy eyes scanning up and down the ballerina’s half-naked forms as if they were just meat at a butchery.

They’d sip their bourbon leisurely, and approach the girls no matter what they were doing. If they were warming up at the barre, lacing up their shoes’ ribbons with patience, pressing fine powder over their face, or even mid-adjusting their costume with a costumier, they’d drop everything to smile coquettish and bite back the annoyance of disruption. In the ballet boudoir, the men were king, and the ballerinas were nothing but jesters for their amusement. The boudoir - it was a cruel nickname to taunt the young dancers who didn’t know any better. This was no private place. No, it wasn’t a dressing room like they’ve heard of.

If it was a less-than-full audience at the Cromer Opera House, there would be only familiar men in the room – who oftentimes already had their eyes on their prey. Lord Frederickson favored Julia with the red hair. Mr. Takahashi was leering after Mina. Kim Dohyun had been pursuing Imara for a year now; she had saved almost enough money to be out of the boudoir and have her own personal dressing room, maybe by next season! They were unfortunately lucky.

Now, YN had been the fortunate unlucky girl. Throughout her time at the Cromer Opera House, she had only a few male admirers. All who had little money and would spend most of their wealth getting into the boudoir and have none left to ‘woo’ with gift-giving or patronage. Even so, she had to act friendly. Smile with your cheeks, YN, an older ballerina had advised once. They can tell when there is nothing behind your eyes.

YN had been part of the corps de ballet for over a year now because of this. A petit rat at her age was mocked. She had no debut, no prospects. It wasn’t from not trying. She had practiced since she was three after all. She was an urchin with a seamstress mother and forgotten father who had passed in the war. It was typical of girls like her to try to seek fame - the easy-way - her mother claims. But there was no easy way in ballet.

Decades of training resulted in swollen purple toes, aching muscles, millions of destroyed ballet shoes, and countless inquiries to the choreographer to let her have a chance. The choreographer who had something against her. Maybe it was from when she was a child and would rather play than practice on the barre or maybe it was when she was a teen and had begun to read at breaks rather than continue to strain her muscles like some of the girls. The Madame hated her.

Regardless, she had never danced on stage alone, never was stand out. Her golden hour had yet to come. And with that, she wasn’t pursued by patronage suitors seriously. A blessing and a curse. She avoided wandering hands, wet mouths, and nasty tongues. But every costume had to be commissioned with her own coin (most often, she would sew it in the dark of night, icing her feet as she snipped at scrap fabric her mother owned.) Each ballet shoe’s cost was taken from her meager wages. The fee of practices, the fee of using the opera house’s rehearsal room, the fee of utilizing the boudoir’s accommodations like powder and rouge and candlelight if they could charge for that, all laid on her shoulders.

A true petit rat, lowly and searching for scraps. Digging her nails into opportunities where she can shine. But not from another’s assistance. No, her pride was too heavy on her back now for that.

“YN, YN, YN!”

There was a chatter – giggling and chittering between the younger girls – as they came padding into the boudoir before show-time. Tip tap, tip tap, tip. Around the corner of the opened grand doors, they came waddling in like a flock. Their swan costumes made them truly look like little ducklings; white feathered tutus leaving stray feathers onto the wooden floors as they scurried her way.

The one yelling her name was young, not even ten years old yet. She was short for her age too, a thing she despised. Only tall girls were prima ballerina her fellow ballerina friends taunted. She slid to her knees beside YN.

She smiled up from her spot on the ground, one pointe shoe on and the other resting beside her.

“Tiny, hello,” she greeted, finishing tying the ballet shoes’ laces up her legs.

“Have you heard? Have you heard?” Another of the young ballerinas chimed as she rushed forward as well, her dark hair tumbling from her half-up bun.

“Jane, your hair,” YN half-scolded, half-warned.

Her eyes glanced away from the youngers towards the grand gold-gilded doors of the boudoir, half-expecting their Madame to walk in and lash at them for looking so untidy. Despite this being a dressing room.

Pausing in tying up her laces, she gestured for the girl to join her on the cold wooden floor (they didn’t utilize the radiator heaters until mid-act 1, so it’d be warm for the patrons during intermission.)

Jane was thirteen and, with a huff, she plopped down, bony knees clanking as she did so. Her costume splayed out in a feathered mess. Her little fingers began to pick and fluff the costume. Her head lolled back, and YN began to untangle the pins from her curls.

“YN,” the one she called Tiny whined.

“Okay, okay,” she chuckled. “What’s so exciting?”

“There are new young bachelors in town!”

“What?”

Cromer wasn’t a tiny coastal town anymore. It was bustling with people and money and trade. New buildings were popping up more and more, growing taller and taller by the day. The high society they were aware of was growing larger and larger until the folk they thought were rich and powerful weren’t all that rich and powerful anymore compared to the new conglomerates. But unfortunately, these millionaires were often married, unhappily.

“You know the Ateez House?”

YN laughed at that.

Everyone in town did. It was their most favorite ghost house. It was the largest sprawling estates in Cromer with the spooky story that all knew. The story went it was once owned by a pirate captain, the only Captain of the Black Pirates. They pilfered and ravaged ports one by one until they were known across the seas as a brutal blood-thirsty crew. No coastal town was safe from them. Until one day, they stopped sailing mysteriously. The story goes that the captain settled in the town of Cromer under a false name and built Ateez Mansion – a sprawling estate built with blood-soaked gold and diamonds. Some say its haunted with the deaths of the captain’s victims; others say the entire house was cursed from the stolen treasure hidden within.

All just tall tales to try to explain why a beautiful mansion remained unhoused yet perfectly taken care of. Sometimes you could see candlelight flickering in the foyer through the grand stained-glass windows or even ghostly figures with no faces walking about.

“Yes,” she replied. “I’m the one who told you the ghost story about Ateez House.”

One of the youngest curled closer to her side, shivering a bit as she thought of the scary story.

“They moved into the Ateez House!” Tiny exclaimed, slamming her hands down on the wooden floor in excitement. Tiny loved to gossip and this was like Christmas. New bachelors meant new flings which meant new gossip!

“Was there a sale of the estate?” YN wondered as she finally got all the pins from Jane’s hair out and in a small pile on the floor beside her.

“No,” one of the other young teens said. She wasn’t even among the clambering youths around her; she was on the nearby barre stretching out. “No sale had been published in the papers. I heard from June who heard from Martha who heard from Wendy who heard from Lorelai who heard from her current suitor that the bachelors already owned the house but never stayed there.”

Now, that was news. YN’s brows rose in surprise.

“It’s been their house?” she repeated as she paused in gathering Jane’s hair into a bun. Another ballerina warming up nearby nodded enthusiastically.

“Do any of you tattletales know their names? How many are there?” YN asked.

Across the sea of swan-costumed girls, sparkling in gems and beads, their faces fell.

“That’s a no then… has anyone seen these mysterious bachelors leaving the mansion?”

There was a silence.

“Any proof of these men at all?”

Nothing.

YN sighed out. “Who would own that mansion and never live there? It’s been empty for decades now. None of us have known the owners. I don’t—I think it’s just gossip, girls.”

Jane wiggled in her grasp, bratty as she whined. “But YN,” she complained. She had been so excited to imagine and pretend and think of handsome suitors.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, hm,” YN encouraged as she finished wrapping the girl’s hair tight into a perfect bun. Pin after pin was slid in with precision. “For now, no more gossiping about ghostly bachelors in an abandoned mansion. Practice calls – Tiny, have you warmed up?”

Tiny furrowed her brow, her lips falling into a pout. Embarrassment heated her face as she curtly shook her head ‘no’.

“Go on,” YN encouraged the other with a smile before patting Jane’s shoulders to indicate she was done with her now-pristine hairdo as well.

“She acts like she’s the Madame,” Tiny mumbled under her breath as she stomped to her feet. “She’s not even a featured ballerina.”

The snide remark stung but YN tried to remember that they were young. Young and unaware of the hardships that awaited them. It wasn’t just dancing here. It was far more than that. YN returned to her shoes, tying them once more.

New bachelors in town. . . that’d be something. Far too often was it old men with oily money. But there is no way anyone truly owned that estate for all these years and no one in town knew it. No way. Somebody would know who owned it. It wouldn’t have become a ghost story. It was just silly gossip. Wishful thinking for a man to come sweep you off your feet.

She sighed and stretched her limbs before hoisting herself up to prepare for tonight’s show.

Swan Lake: a princess turned into a swan by an evil sorcerer's curse. She’d watch the prima ballerina, Odette, dance about gracefully from the wings each night. YN’s toes flexing at every movement, as if she were dancing it herself. She yearned for it. Ached to be the one performing. Instead, she was simply one in the crowd. The corps de ballet, the ensemble. She’d spin about in the back, pirouette perfect, leap lovely. Awe and comfort the lead throughout her struggle as a swan as she, YN, remained the ugly duckling.

Her gaze would dance throughout the crowd as she did an arabesque, slow and precise. There is Nikolai in his usual spot. There’s Mrs Lee and her young sons. Ariel and her suitor Sunghoon. Takahashi in Box 2 with his sisters. Box 4 had Fredrikson and his family. Box 5 was empty – wonder where Dohyun was, Imara would be relieved she could relax tonight she bet. Her eyes skipped over Box 8 because, of course, it would be empty. It was always empty. Except…

There was a quick plie of her knees before she had to jete away off-stage

Whispers consumed the backstage. Did you see? Did you see?

Box 8 was occupied.

Never had it been occupied in all the years of the Cromer Opera House.

Cromer held many superstitions even as a modern industrializing town. They had ghost stories about houses after all. But one of the strangest superstitions was the number 8. They skipped the 8th street; the eighth floor was unspoken in the tallest of buildings. No aisle 8, no 8th editions.

Box 8 of the Opera House was left empty strategically - for luck.

But now, there sat only one man. Shadowed by the dark curtains of the box, he watched the show from opera glasses and sipped on glittering champagne that would occasionally catch the candlelight of the grand chandeliers.

Did you see his face? Who is he? Is he handsome? Who could buy the box? Who would want to buy that box?

“Quiet!” One of the older ballerinas snapped at the youngers. “The audience will hear you!”

YN snorted behind a hand, standing ready in the wings. While she didn’t gossip, she listened. As if the audience was completely enraptured by their rendition of Swan Lake. The Opera, the Ballet, the Theatre: they weren’t to solely watch a show and be entertained. It was social. It was always social. Of course, the audience was wondering the same questions as they were.

Who was he? Was it a he? His form looked masculine.

She wanted to catch a glimpse.

It was a man she surmised after the next scene. YN was downstage this dance, sat among the young ballerinas and acting as a mother swan to them as they would do dramatic port de bras, arm movements. She had time to glance about once more.

In the shadows of Box Number 8 was a handsome man. Dark hair framed his face. He wore a suit that was a deep black velvet. And his eyes were glued to her, she swore it.

He was someone new. He was someone intriguing. And she waited to see if he was indeed watching her. Her group stood after sometime to chase after Odette, leaping this way and that until joining back in the right-upper corner of the stage on a lifted platform, stylized as a grassy hill.

She looked up at the box. He was staring at her. He was staring at her, opera glasses focused on her. They glinted in the candle-light. He disregarded the spotlit prima ballerina pirouetting around the lower left of the stage. For her. She smiled at him.

Tiny glanced her way with a giddy immatureness in her actions, breaking the elegance of a ballerina in her excitement. She could already hear Madame’s scolding at tonight’s debrief. But YN didn’t mind. Because he was looking at her.

And everyone knew it.

Act One finished in a roar of applause. Heavied red curtains slid shut for intermission as they hurried off stage.

“He was looking at her.” Jane exclaimed bouncing on her feet as she tugged her friend’s arm in excitement.

The corps de ballet was walking all together through the backstage halls of the Opera House towards the boudoir. The prima ballerina and the principal dancers escaped to their own private dressing rooms – YN watched as a patron, Mr. Kim, an older gentleman snuck into the prima ballerina’s room.

“No, he wasn’t,” another girl claimed.

“Yes, he was,” Jane defended.

“No, he wasn’t,” another snorted.

“Yes, he was!” Tiny yelled, indignantly.

“Tabitha!” the Madame rounded the corner of the boudoir, exiting out of its doors to meet the ensemble.

The Madame was a strict looking woman, tall nosed with her hair in a meticulous updo. Her cane did little to aid in her walking but much in discipline. Too many times had she felt the thwack of the cane against the back of her legs, her arched back, or her stomach.

Legs straight! Back straight! Don’t slouch! YN!

The group paused at her appearance; some of the girls bowed their head in respect; others hid behind taller legs.

“Miss Tabitha, must I remind you of your manners every day?” she queried, her tone loud and grating. “As a lady of this company, you must be a lady.”

“Sorry, Madame,” Tiny immediately apologized, head bending forward.

There was a heavy pause as the Madame’s fiery gaze lingered on the young girl before passing over the selection of the ensemble. She glared at YN pointedly. YN had long stopped trying to appeal to her; it never worked she had learned.

“Carry on, girls,” the Madame instructed.

They curtsied in unison before continuing towards the boudoir, hopefully with enough time to slip into their next costumes, if need be, before any patrons were lounging about. It was always uncomfortable to change with the men about – it made them feel truly like objects on display rather than dancers. Skilled ladies.

YN went to her shared vanity, glancing over her makeup. Dabbing at sweat that beaded at her hairline, she went to reach for a handkerchief but when she leant back up right was spooked by the sight of a man behind her.

Black velvet linen made up his suit; she had been right. It was perfectly tailored to his form, luxurious and hugging. His suit jacket was longer than typical but stylish with ornate, Greco-Roman inspired embroidered sleeves.

In the mirror, he was handsome. Strong jawline. Bare collarbones visible from his loose fitted button up beneath his suit jacket. With dark intriguing eyes that didn’t stray from her, a quirked brow, and delicate face-framing strands of hair, he stole her breath away.

“Hello.” He greeted coyly.

The boudoir’s chatter died down at his greeting. All eyes zeroed in on them. She stood to her full height once more, holding the handkerchief in between her hands. Sweat slid down her temple to her jawline delicately.

“Hello,” she greeted, patting down the sides of her face quickly before turning to face him fully.

His lips were plump, curling in a hint of a smile as he watched her spin to face him. He seemed to be examining her just as she did to him.

“You’re far more beautiful than any of these girls,” the mystery man commented leaning over the vanity to peer at her.

His fingers fiddled on the white vanity, making shapes this way and that. Knocking his knuckles against the wood, almost boyishly shy. But this patron wasn’t shy. She had seen men parade about and try every trick in the book with a girl. She could see it in the sparkle of his dark eyes. The curl of his charming smile.

He wasn’t shy. He was smart.

“You are a charmer, sir,” she complimented, opening a glass container holding puff powder.

She flashed him a cheeky smile before using the puff to powder over the sweat on her forehead, her cheeks. A jar of rouge was placed down near the mirror by another dancer. When she turned away, her tutu brushed against the mysterious patron’s waist. He didn’t take his eyes from YN all the while.

“I wish I was,” he softly crooned. So he wouldn’t have to watch her in the mirror, he turned to lean back on the ledge, fingers pressed behind him as he watched her touch up her lipstick with a delicate brush. “I’m only speaking the truth.”

It was a soft admittance. His eyes hadn’t left her features, darting from her eyes to the red petals of her mouth that pressed together in a pout as she finished apply the lipstick. Her finger went to dip into the pot before, with a quick movement, he grasped her wrist.

It wasn’t painful just surprising as she jumped in his grip. His hold loosened greatly, allowing her to pull away if she wished. She didn’t.

“Let me; don’t want you to dirty your hands,” he said.

She licked her lips; the heavy taste of beeswax and rosewater stuck to the back of her tongue as she nodded minutely.

The handsome patron’s cheshire cat grin grew. A dark mole on his cheek caught her attention the more his cheeks puffed up with his smile. Beautiful. He let go of her wrist. Long, long fingers dipped into the red makeup.

“What’s your name?” she asked, a first when it came to the patrons and male-visitors of the ballet boudoir.

Far too often, everyone knew everyone. They’d scratch and crawl away or towards certain men; attention meant everything to a beginning ballet dancer. It meant success. No one seemingly knew him, judging by the looks she caught the more experienced, older ballerinas throw her way.

“Wooyoung. Jung Wooyoung,” he answered her before tapped the blush delicately on one cheek.

His touch made her heart race. He licked his own lips, looking down at her through tussled dark locks. His fingers pressed another dot to her other cheek. His free hand moved to cup her jawline, forcing her to look up at him before, with gentle motions, he began to blend the rouge into a soft gradient. One cheek, then the other.

The room felt quiet. Burning eyes on them grazed her skin but it didn’t make her stomach churn with anxiety. It felt like only the two of them existed in a perfect bubble. His touch didn’t burn or disgust her; it tingled across her skin making gooseflesh crawl up her arms, up her spine. She worried he could see them through the sheer nylon of her long-sleeved costume. If he did, he didn’t comment on it. His eyes were focused on adding to her beauty, gentle and almost reverent.

“And yours, little swan?” he tilted her chin up as he finished with his work. He loved to watch the rubied glow on her cheeks grow and grow, and not due to his careful make-up’ed handiwork.

“YN,” she said.

He grinned before he repeated her name. His fingers trailed over her cheek, over her chin, his thumb ghosting over her plush lipsticked lips. Before he pulled away and leaned back on the vanity; rouge staining the pure vanity below his hands, sloppily.

“Pretty name for a pretty swanette.”

She smiled up at him, the building, bubbling excitement writhing in her throat. She swallowed.

“Are you new in town? I’ve never seen you at the Opera.” She commented offhandedly.

His grin remained, the corners of his lips curling cat-like. “Mmhm,” he hummed out. “You can say that. I’m from Aurora originally.”

“Aurora… the island Aurora?” she queried with intrigue. “I’ve heard its booming lately. The Jewel of the Atiny Sea.”

He nodded, his smile not fading but his eyes crinkled as he raised his unstained fingers to push her hair aside. Just as an excuse to graze her shoulder she bet.

“I grew up there before it became beautiful,” he admitted. “Its much nicer now – I like to visit on holidays but I don’t miss it.”

“But now you are in Cromer. For how long?” she continued.

He hummed again leaning close. “For however long it takes to woo you?” he flirted.

It made a whirlwind of butterflies dance in her stomach. He watched as her blush extended to the tips of her ears. He laughed lowly.

“You’re teasing me,” she warned with a smirk. “We barely know one another.”

“Maybe,” he retorted. “I know skill and dedication when I see it. I like that.”

There was a ringing of a bell, delicate but a familiar sound for the ballerinas. Some turned their heads towards the stage hand ringing it to give him a smile. Others remained speaking to their patrons or changing their costumes to Act 2’s ensemble. Most remained eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Do you need to hurry along, beautiful swanette?” he fiddled with the crown of feathers pinned to her hair.

“Soon,” she replied simply.

His fingers trailed over her hair, tucking some behind her ear delicately before he grazed his hand down the sleek nylon of her sleeve to take her hand. His hand was decorated in countless rings. Gold, silver, copper. One was a series of silver circles ( …or were they sideways 8’s?) with jewels placed in between stylishly. There was another that was a polished silver with the emblem of a letter she couldn’t quite make out on its face. The metal felt cold against her hot skin. Running a thumb over her knuckles, he squeezed her hand.

“Will you indulge me in another meeting soon? I regret to inform you I can’t stay late after the performance,” he admitted. “I would like to get to know you.”

It was charming the idea he proposed. As if she had any will or way in meeting him. But she was intrigued by him. He was handsome, playful, and new. He was mysterious with how he sat alone in the forbidden, unlucky Box Number 8. She wanted to get to know him… and if he wanted to pay for her time like the other patrons eventually did with their ballerinas, maybe this would be beneficial for the both of them.

She leaned in close like she had seen other ballerinas do with their patrons. Closer than what was appropriate for a lady, but not close enough to have their forms touch. She looked up and smiled, enjoying the way his own ears were beginning to tint a playful red. This was a fun dance between the two of them. She had never enjoyed her suitors so much.

“Yes,” she agreed. “I’d love to talk more, Mr. Jung.”

“Call me Wooyoung.”

#wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #ateez x reader #atz x reader #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez fic #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #written by haley

159 notes · View notes

kiwiikato · 4 months ago

Text

mommy’s here // ken sato x reader

Chapter Ten

masterlist

note: hi everyone! there's not much action going on here in this chapter but i just really wanted to give you guys another chapter. i may do longer wait times between uploading chapters like i did with this one since i deal with motivation issues but im gonna do my best to continue uploading the story till it's finished <3

professor sato stared at the wall of the elevator, his body slowly descending down from the first floor of his sons house. the doors opened, showing ultraman's face blocking any movement forward. he could only stare at him silently as kenji spoke.

"dad, im not asking for complaints, guilt, or criticism. not right now, i just... we need you help." he stepped aside out of the way from professor sato to walk in. a soft gasp escaped him as he looked at the scene before him.

he recognized your ultra form in front of him, holding down what looked like to be a kaiju. a baby one at that. he couldn't help but stare at awe at the sight in front of him. he eyes and mind couldn't believe that an actual baby kaiju laid in front of him.

"y/n, is that you?" he asked, confused about you and his son being together in the same room. he held no knowledge of your connections together. he would only worry about where you would go in the time that you weren't fighting kaijus that attacked. he shook his thoughts off to acknowledge the sight in front of him.

his hands touched the scales that littered their skin. "incredible." before he could say anything, kenji who sat on your side started to talk. "she's hurt dad. we were attacked. i don't know what to do." his voice was shaky, almost as thought he could break down in tears looking at the injured baby.

your heart clenched at the quiver in his voice, wishing you could comfort him but the priority of your babies comfort stood first in line. "she got loose, i should have been there." he gasped out. "no kenji, i should have been there, i was literally there. she got out right under my nose." you said holding the baby in your arms.

professor sato hands neared where the syringe of green liquid was stuck on the babies body. "shh shh" professor sato tried to comfort the pink creature as they whined in pain and fear. "dad please! careful with her." kenji cried out, anxious to see the kaiju he had grown to love was injured.

this was all new to him. growing up as a single child, he had no one to worry about besides his mom when they moved to the states. he had no close family, no younger siblings. he was truthfully forced to grow up too early.

but since the day he had first held the baby kaiju in his arms, he had found himself feeling a way. attached. love if you would call it that. he had grown to love them the way a father would. it was a sweet bittersweet feeling.

"it's okay, its okay, he's not gonna hurt you." said while you rubbed the babies head to soothe them as your other hand found kenji's back to rub. professor sato gently but quickly pulled off the syringe as he watched the way you two interacted. he didn't want to assume but there was a closeness between the two of you.

"it's good to see you again, professor." he smiled while turned to mina. "hello mina." he said holding the green syringe. "it's been a while." mina's voice was gentle, a slight tone of joy seeing the professor after a long while. "it has. can you do me a favor? can you run an analysis on this?" he held out the syringe to the robotic arm that reached for it. mina's 'eye' scanned the syringe.

professor sato turned towards the two of you. "dad, please, do something, help her." kenji whispered out. "please professor." you added on in desperation for help. for anything. he nodded and kneeled slowly with the help of his cane. "mina, it looks like like she might have a broken arm. can you confirm?" he turned to mina who began to scan the arm. "yes, that's correct. she has a mid-humeral fracture with associated hematoma." she finished explaining just when the the baby kaiju cried a little bit. "it's okay it's okay." professor sato comforted her.

mina began to speak up once again. "i have completed the chem analysis, professor sato. it's a powerful sedative, but it's harmless." you let out a breath of relief hearing that the liquid wasn't poisonous in any way. you felt kenji grasp the hand you one had on his back in his own. he squeezed it a comforting manner, making you smile internally.

"can you synthesize a 100 ccs?" professor sato asked mina, which she agreed too. "good, we'll need more." kenji heard his dad, turning to him in shock. "more? why more?!" he yelled in fear. "kenji, you may not agree with me on anything else, but right now, i'm the best chance she has. so please, please, let me help." he softly begged to his son. kenji let out a soft 'okay', giving his dad a nod.

professor sato's torso turned as he reached for the bag at his side. he pulled out a small bunny, one adorned with colors of yellow, green, purple, and red. he held it out to the baby kaiju, allowing you and kenji to see it. "dad, bunny?" he inquired softly.

"it always worked on you." he said softly as he clicked a button. a familiar melody began to play as your baby began to coo in joy. he played bunny on the babies arm, letting her watch it with curiosity.

he then began to sing with the song. "🎶 b-i-n-g-o, b-i-n-g-o," he grabbed his metal cane, placing it in the crevice of her arm. "okay now hold her steady, please y/n." he said as you listened and placed a gentle but sturdy grip on her.

mina's robotic arms came out from the ground as they grabbed at the baby kaijus arms to hold her arm steady. professor sato aligned his hip with the fracture at her hand. with one swift movement, he pushed against it, letting out a crack. in an instant, a cry erupted from the baby kaijus arm from the pain.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

you and kenji sat on the couch of the small room in his base. your eyes watched at you baby kaiju who laid in their containment unit, sleeping peacefully.

professor sato walked into the room with his cane holding a mug. you instinctively shot up from your seat, rushing by over to help him sit down carefully. it's not that he was at an age where he would need help but after his injury from being the past ultraman, you found yourself building a habit of helping him walk.

you led him to sit down on the sofa, taking away the mug he held and placed it on the table in front of kenji. "bad habit." he said looking at kenji who tapped his foot anxiously. you moved back to your spot on the other side of kenji, sitting closer to him for comfort.

"i'd say we did pretty well considering the circumstance." he spoke trying to continue a conversation. kenji turned to him. "dad i- i really appreciate you showing up, i do. but this doesn't make you ultradad. you know, we're not suddenly gonna be best pals."

kenj sat hunched over his right hand holding his face. the atmosphere had done tense. you felt your own body turn rigid from the feeling. as cliche as it sounds, you could almost cut the atmosphere with scissors from how thick it was. you turned to kenji, trying to hint to ask if you could leave, not wanting to be rude or intruding.

you felt his free hand next to you grab you hand nearest to him, silently reassuring you that it was okay for you to listen. professor sato watched the site in front of him once again, taking in these small acts of closeness between the two of you. staying silent once again.

"kenji, y/n, i need to show you something. mina, news please." what was once a window, turned into a tv as cheif officer of KDF, dr. onda, was shown talking on national television. you felt yourself tense up, recognizing the man that you had learned was behind all the kaiju attacks.

"fortunately, the KDF was able to contain the damage and no one was harmed. but the kaiju escaped, and it would appear that ultraman and the new ultra hero are actually defending the beast. the KDF are conducting a massive search for both the creature and the two ultra heroes. we will protect the families of this city. we will get to the bottom of this and we will eliminate the threat."

the news showed clips of the baby kaiju running around, then switching into the KDF jets searching for the missing kaiju. your baby kaiju. professor sato turned to the both of you, who sat intensely watching the new till it was turned off.

"kenji, i have been tracking onda. even y/n has when we would work together more frequently. and until now he's been content on just killing whatever kaiju attacks the city. but somethings changed. he wasn't trying to kill the baby. he wanted her alive. i've known onda for a long time. he is brilliant and cunning. and he will never stop, not until she's captured and you're dead. until you're both dead.

you head snapped towards professor sato, shocked to actually have to acknowledge the truth. kenji's eyes widened, his body had turned stiff as the three of you stared at the baby kaiju who shivered slightly as mina sang to her. you felt your heart clench in fear of her being alone, without you, the two of you.

professor sato sighed at the sight, turning back to kenji. "you and i don't have to be best pals, kenji. but can we at least agree that she is the priority?" he said staring at his son.

"yes, she is." kenji responded looking at his father while you gave him a quick nod. professor sato turned to the two of you. "do you have a plan?" just in that moment, mina came out to the two of you, laying out the plan.

"we thought returning the baby to her natural habitat would be best, professor sato. but the location of kaiju island remains elusive." she spoke. professor began to walk around, almost anxiously. "even if we could find it, without a mother to defend her, the baby might starve, drown, die from hypothermia, or another kaiju could eat her as a snack-"

his panicking rambling was cut off my kenji who spoke sternly. "i got it, i got it." his dad then turned to the two of you, his voice silently desperate. "we have to raise her, the way her mother would have." he said. his eyes were pleading for the two of you to agree as he walked away.

kenji stood up from his spot, pulling you with him as your hands were still intertwined. he then let go as he neared his dad, raising them in shock. "so you're suggesting that you and i- uh ultrapeople, people who are supposed to fight these things, should train this baby to essentially kick our butts?" he spoke as his body jumped with shock with each step he took.

"kenji, she needs us." professor sato spoke softly. kenji turned to you, looking into your eyes for what you would have to say. it might have been your attachment speaking or your mutual agreements with professor sato but you knew that not teaching her was not good.

"we have to kenji. i rather her kick our asses than know that she's struggling to even survive. i need to know she's safe and sound." kenji could only nod slightly, giving you a soft smile as he turned to his dad to agree.

TAGLIST

@ilovemyhusbandaaravos @miffysoo @ldykir4 @chaoticotaku @channit @shingsoluvely @m00nd0v3 @mixvchelle @ifharbingerbad--whyhot @dreamayy @justanotherkpopstanlol @bat1212 @angelitadiaz @snowbusiness @witcwitchy @mizzowizzo @buggs-1 @mmeerraa @everywonuu @nevermorekisses @f1uveryysblog @t4naiis @stxrrielle @ixqiix @arrozyfrijoles23 @sincerest-one @imsimping4life @sassy-cat-in-town @jack-of-all-trades-696 @flutterfly365 @eternalgoddessofart @hulyenl @leabrainrot @sunmigs @m3q3kic @lynbubble @leviannx @call-me-nyxx @gurofushi @ya-boi-v @im-sidney @haitani-zoe @mtheooo @chreiiii @secretlyapartofthisfandom @greenmanshoe @badbishsblog @reallysparklychaos @deimmortales99 @ashsallyblue2 @matchalatte06 @random-3455 @reivelmin @jennyfernan @solatiiium @liliabrary @maxi-ride @22carolina08 @coffetears @vyxnn-xage

#ken sato #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #professor sato #ultraman #ultraman rising #kenji sato x reader

252 notes · View notes

viking-raider · 2 years ago

Text

Moon Crazed *Mature*

Summary: Henry seems especially crazed on his birthday, and you don't understand why, until you check the calendar again.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning: M - Fluff, Angst, Banter, Pet Names, Language, Gray Hair Appreciation, Cuddles, Supportive Spouse SMUT - Birthday Sex, Oral (F receiving), Fingering (F Receiving), Unprotected Sex (Wrap it!), Possible Voyeurism, Sneak Attacks, Doggy Style, Hickeys, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Super light Anal, Rutting, Hinted Breeding Kink, Light Spanking, Body Fluids, Biting

Inspiration: Henry's 40th Birthday being on a literal Full Moon!

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLISTand turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy! @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY

You hummed softly, standing at the refrigerator as you filled your water bottle with ice from the dispenser. Unaware of the predator stalking up behind you. Until strong hands grabbed a hold of your hips, causing you to let out a startled scream and drop your bottle, the ice chips rattling in the black plastic as it struck the hardwood floor.

“Henry!” You yelped as he spun you around to face him, but smiled, nonetheless. “What are-” You started, but he captured your lips in a hungry, heated kiss, that had you breathless before you could finish your question.

There were black spots in your eyes, when the kiss finally broke and you were dizzy, only vaguely aware of a coolness from your waist down, then Henry's hands were back on your hips and he was lifting you onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. You hissed, feeling the cold butcher block on your bare skin, Henry having stripped you of your pants and underwear.

“Whoa, Cavill!” You huffed, pressing your knees together and planting your palms to his collarbone. “The fuck has you so crazed?” You asked, seeing how bright, clear and wild his blue eyes were, his pupils blown out from his mounting arousal.

“This.” He purred, his voice rumbling, as his fingers swiped at your exposed folds.

“Oh, holy Jesus!” You gasped, off guard, wiggling on the counter. “Right, Okay.” You panted, softly. “Birthday boy is in a mood.”

“Birthday boy is hungry.” He growled, dropping to his knees and yanking you to the edge of the island, your legs draped over his broad shoulders, while his mouth showed no mercy at attacking your womanhood.

Your hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his curls. “What is it? A full moon!” You cried out, eyes crossing and rolling back, feeling Henry's tongue swirl against your swelling clit. “Hen-Ry.” You moaned, hands slipping from his hair as you fell back across the counter, the muscles of your thighs twitching under his onslaught.

“Such nice red velvet.” He cooed, his breath hot against your wet folds, as he licked your icing off his lips.

“You're crazy.” You wheezed back, your head lulling side to side, while you gazed up at the vaulted ceiling.

Smirking, Henry pressed his lips to your humming pearl, drawing a breathy moan from deep in your throat, with the gentle suckles that only grew with intensity. His tongue flicking out to tease, torture and collect your sweet nectar, but never yet permitting the mounting rapture that balanced on a knife's edge. You tried rolling your hips against his mouth, antsy to feel that sweet relief at the mercy of his skilled mouth. But Henry's hands gripped them, pinning you to the counter with a near bruising strength.

“It's my birthday.” Henry huffed between your thighs, glaring up the length of your heaving body, feeling the throb of his clothed girth at the sight of the mounds of your breasts, nipples hard through the fabric of your shirt. “Behave.” He growled, slipping a hand into your shirt to pinch and tease one of your peaks, while his mouth left a dark purple mark on the inside of your trembling thigh.

You shivered at the contact, whimpering, but laid as still as you could. Henry chuckled, loving the madness he was driving you into. He laid an open mouth kiss to your pearl and took a deep breath, filling his senses with your heady scent, that only seemed to drag him deeper into his own psychosis. You hiccuped at the feel of his teeth nipping at your dripping petals, lifting your head and letting out a shocked huff at Henry, whose eyes only regarded you mischievously, not willing to stop and lift his head.

His tongue finally split you open, licking and snaking down your tunnel, chuckling at the hums and pants you were making at the attention. He removed his hand from your hip, his thumb easily finding your clit and applied just the right amount of pressure as his tongue found your spot.

Starting to hiccup, with surprise at the rushing of the orgasm that hit you, your back curving off the counter, before it caught in your throat, face twisting in ecstasy. “Henry!” You cried out, breaking through the surprise, “Oh god, Hen!” You mewled, falling limp as it wore off.

Henry stood up, a heavenly and satisfied look on his face. “Mmm.” He moaned, smirking at you. “You taste so damn good, baby girl.” He chuckled, wiping at the droplets on his lips and chin, before tugging down his sweatpants.

“Shit!” You cried out, nails clawing at the butcher block underneath you as Henry eased his weeping cock into you. “Warn a girl!” You barked, hooking your shaking legs around his thighs.

“That was your warning, babe.” Henry laughed, gripping one of your hips and planting his other hand on the counter, as leverage.

You looked up at Henry and saw a familiar glint in his blue eyes, but it seemed a bit more than usual. “Christ alive.” You sighed, gripping the wrist he had at your hip.

“You're all strapped in, honey?” He chuckled, rubbing your hip with his thumb.

“I know you, Cavill!” You answered, clenching around him.

Moaning, Henry bit his bottom lip and pushed his hips forward into you with as much strength as he could, rocking you further up the counter. With his pace set, Henry didn't relent, not even when your nails broke the skin of his wrist.

“Filling you up never gets old, babe.” Henry panted, recovering from his climax. “Unlike somethings.”

“The hell does that mean?” You wheezed, gulping thickly.

“Nothing.” He sighed, pulling you up and kissing you sweetly on the lips. “Just rambling. Come take a shower with me?” He asked, smiling at you.

“Of course.” You nodded, sliding off the island and following upstairs to the master bathroom.

Later that afternoon, you stood in the laundry room tossing things from a hamper into the washing machine, when you looked up and saw Henry's reflection in the window that was behind the machine.

“Hey there, handsome.” You cooed at him, leaning into the hamper to grab the last handful of dirty clothes. “Did you have a good workout?” You asked, tossing them in and closing the lid.

“Mmhm.” He replied, resting his shoulder against the door frame to watch you.

“Good.” You smiled, pushing up on your toes to reach the controls and started the machine, just as Henry pushed off the door towards you, trapping you against the vibrating appliance. “What—Oh, this again?” You purred, feeling his hand slip around you and into the band of your leggings and panties. “You are in a randy mood today, Puppy.” You said, in a sultry voice.

“Just today?” He husked back, gently rubbing your still, slightly, sore delicates.

You chuckled softly, unsure how to answer that or if it was rhetorical. “You always make me feel good, Henry.” You moaned, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. “Above other things.” You smirked, kissing the underside of his jaw.

“Mmm.” Henry moaned back at you, working his fingers a little more vigorously against your privates. “What other things?” He asked, pushing your shirt up and cupping one of your breasts in his paw.

“I think you're currently do-doing a goo-good job.” You gulped, pressing your back harder against his chiseled chest.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, pressing his lips to the top of your head, as a finger crooked into your entrance, teasing. “You like when I finger you?”

“Like is an inadequate word.” You whimpered, toes curling against the tiles of the laundry room floor. “Love it. Get off on the mere thought of. Have a yearning for most hours of the day.” You confessed, bracing a hand on the edge of the washer to help keep yourself up.

Henry smiled into your hair and allowed you to give in, feeling your wet warmth wash over his hand. “I love pleasuring you, more than almost everything else.” He cooed, turning you around to cup your face in his sticky hand, kissing you deeply.

“More laundry.” You giggled, after breaking the kiss, taking off your leggings and soiled panties, opening the washer machine to toss them in, yelping as Henry's hand connected to your bum.

“If I had it my way, you'd only be naked at home.” He grinned, biting the corner of his lip at the mere thought of getting to see your naked body at all hours in the privacy of your home.

“Oh, of that I am sure, my love.” You snorted, nodding your head. “And the feeling is mutual.” You added, tugging on the front of his shirt.

“I can fix that.” Henry laughed, blue eyes glittering.

Laying on your bed, arms folded beneath you, exhausted from the events of the day, you were again unaware of Henry coming for you, until you heard the floor creak.

“Christ alive!” You spooked, looking at him, before busting out into a smile, finding he was stark naked. “What has gotten into you, Henry?” You asked, rolling onto your back to look at him. “Twice already today we've had shenanigans throughout the house.” You said, running your eyes along his godly body. “Not counting our regular morning meeting.”

“Is it so hard to believe I can't get enough of you.” Henry asked, cocking a brow in your direction.

“No, not in the slightest, husband.” You purred at him, feeling his waves of need coming off of him, even from the gap between you. “It's just strange. You haven't been this needy in quite a while.”

“I've been on a mission to correct that.” He confessed, closing that gap. “Get undressed.” He ordered you, standing at the edge of the bed.

Smirking at him, you pulled your shirt off over your head, breasts bouncing as you did, much to Henry's delight and increased arousal. But when it came to your shorts, thumbs hooking in the waistband of them and your panties, you pushed them down painfully slow, your eyes dead on Henry's. You watched his throat bob and his fingers flex, as he pulled out every ounce of willpower not to launch forwards and rip the article of clothing off of you, himself.

His willpower finally broke and he snatched your pants off the rest of the way, tossing them carelessly aside, then climbing into bed with you, rolling you back onto your belly.

“Oh, we're just being a ball of fun today!” You giggled, as he used his knees to push your legs apart, one thick arm wrapping around your waist and hoisted your hips and bum up, while rutting his hard cock against the valley of your cheeks, grunting in your ear.

“I'll show you fun.” He growled, biting the side of your neck, while grasping himself at the base.

You let out a breath, feeling his tip run down between your cheeks, making the space slick with glossy droplets. He paused to tease your special hole, causing you to gasp and clench in surprise, a rumble of a chuckle bubbling out of Henry as he carried on, rubbing your pleasantly weeping entrance.

“Do you like it when I play with you?” He rasped, pressing his forehead against your temple, his eyes dark, like a storm over an ocean. “When I fill you up.”

“Hm.” You hummed, pushing back against him, eager and impatient to feel him fill you again. “I love it.” You whispered, breathily. “It makes me feel good, Henry.”

Smirking, Henry slowly eased himself inside of you, wanting to feel every little bit as he did. A shiver ran down both your backs as the last inch of his manhood came to rest in your sensitive canal, flexing and molding around him. With quick snaps of his hips, Henry drove himself into you without giving away any ground.

You moaned, hands twisting up in the duvet beneath you as Henry rocked harder into you. Arching your back more, adjusting him and causing you to let out a sweet, almost deafening, cry. Henry grasped the underside of your jaw, pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder and closing his mouth against your throat, timing his sucks and bites with his thrusts.

Leaving behind yet another mark of his passion for you.

“Henry, please.” You moaned, brows creasing. “Touch me.” You gulped, licking your lips.

He moaned against your neck, removing his hand from your face to slip it beneath you, finding your swollen bud, drenched in your combined fluids. Henry was torturous at rubbing clit, but did nothing to rush the pace of his hips. You whined, kicking your feet a little bit and shifting your knees to try and get more leverage, but Henry used his own body to keep you in place.

“You devil.” You sighed at him, yanking your neck away from his mouth.

“Mmhm.” Henry hummed back, not missing a beat, but smirked at you devilishly, before pulling away from you, standing up on his knees to watch himself slide in and out of you. “What a beautiful sight this is.” He purred, rubbing his palm up and down your glistening back, squeezing your neck for a moment.

“Pity you can't see it yourself.”

“Feels amazing as is, big boy.” You answered, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Henry popped you on the ass, applying more pressure to your clit and increased his thrusts, rocking the headboard against the wall. You gripped the duvet for leverage and rocked in tune with him, feeling the hot build of your climax, soft whimpers leaving your parted lips and tears blurring your vision as it finally boiled over, surging around Henry's shaft, the hot pulse intensifying as his own orgasm mounted.

“Henry!” You cried, the sensation of him pumping searing ribbons of his seed into you just as maddening compared to your own.

Pulling out of you, Henry dropped to his side beside you, flushed, sweaty and panting. You rolled onto your side, unfazed by the massive wet spot on the blanket the two of you made, and looked at your husband, smirking. Reaching out for him and gently brushing the damp curls off his forehead, your eyes softening at the sight of the grays you saw in them. Especially at his temple. They drew a smile across your lips.

“What are you smiling about?” Henry asked lazily, cracking an eye at you.

You giggled at him, wiggling in closer. “Just noticing all the new grays you have.” You cooed, resting your head on his bicep and twisting the graying curl around the tip of your index finger, fondly, only to have Henry turn his head out of your grasp.

“Old man.” He huffed, a frustrated crease between his brows.

“Hardly!” You laughed, amused, pressing a kiss on his sternum. “Just because you turned forty today, doesn't make you an old man, Cavill.”

“I damn well feel like one.” Henry growled, fixing his blue eyes on you. “Never this winded after making love to you.”

You sucked your bottom lip in, biting down on it, as you regarded him with understanding and loving eyes. “Is this what everything's been about today?” You finally asked, cupping his bearded cheek. “You sneak attacking me everywhere in the house.” You smirked, your body tingling at just recalling them, but your smile faded seeing the look in his eyes and face.

“Do you think you can't--” You struggled for a moment, a lump in your throat.

“Satisfy you.” He finished for you. “Yes. I've been worried that hitting forty meant that I would lose the ability to keep satisfying you. Seeing the gray hairs in the morning, when I get up to shower, has only increased that anxiety.” He confessed, looking away from you.

“Henry.” You mewled, heartbroken at your husband's words. “You have never lacked there, or anywhere. Today is a fine example of that.” You tried to get him to understand. “We were intimate four times throughout the day, on top of the festivities for your birthday. You have nothing to be concerned about.”

Henry looked back up at you, a look of relief in his cerulean orbs. “You don't think I look silly with them?”

You huffed and clicked your tongue at him, rolling your eyes. “Henry Cavill, I've known and seen you with a great many looks over the last eight years, because of your occupation, and I've never known you to look silly.” You told him, honestly. “Even when you thought you would with the Kingstache.” You giggled, grinning at that memory.

“Lord, that was an identity crisis.” He huffed, shaking his head.

“But,” You looked him squarely in the eyes. “You with gray hair is rather dashing, in my opinion, and I can't wait to see a few more.”

“Oh, that's how it is!” He said, wrapping his arms around you and rolling onto his back, so you straddled his waist. “You like being married to this gray fox!” He laughed, pawing at your butt.

“What is this! A full moon!” You whooped, wiggling out of his grasp to grab your phone and pulled up what phase it was. “Sure as hell!” You laughed, looking over at him. “Your birthday is a full moon!” You smirked, setting your phone back on the nightstand and crawled back into bed with him.

“So, my gray fox is Moon Crazed!”

“Crazed by something.” Henry purred, pulling you in for a kiss.

#Henry Cavill #Moon Crazed #Moon Crazed *Fic*#Viking-Raider Fics #HenryCavill #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x plus size reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x smut #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x black reader #Henry Cavill x Reader #Fluff #Happy Birthday Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill/You #Henry Cavill/Reader

2K notes · View notes

khristie16 · 1 year ago

Note

Dom Charles Leclerc sub Italian reader, a very long, hot spanking punishment (belt too) for the reader because of her rebel/bad attitude in their previous fight/discussion, bend over the table rough sex, wrists tied using the belt, a lot of dirty talk (in French too) and teasing, "Oui, Monsieur", after sex soft/gentle Charles. Thank you so much!! 🥰

This was so fun to write! Thanks for the tip!!:** Warnings: see above, swearing

I said No Charles! What do you mean no?? Like a fucking NO! Excuse-moi?? he looked at you in disbelief. You think it was my fault the guy touched me? You really think that huh? No it is not your fault but I told you to stay away from that group of people! And you think you can boss me around like that? Well, you are my girlfriend. So when I don't like something, I will tell you. Well then you have to accept I'm not gonna do everything you say! YN - his eyes incredibly dark. NO! Cazzo. - you stormed out out of your place. Leaving Charles behind. -

As you went back to your home after some time of cooling down, since you have a short tempered personality, you opened the door and saw literally nothing inside. It was dark everywhere. Gulping slightly, you were trying to find the switch to turn on the lights. As you were reaching out, in the exact moment someone grabbed you by your wrist and swung you around so you felt someone behind your back. It was a hard landing. Being pressed to someone's torso behind you.

Ma che cazzo?! He jerked you with such force that you hissed in pain. I'm so DONE with your SWEARING at me. - deep and harsh tone of his startled you. Charles! as you screamed when he tossed you on the couch. As you turned around to lay on your back, he switched on the little lamp on the side of the conference table. Take your skirt off. You furrowed your eyebrows on him. Do as I say YN or you will suffer more. - he glared at you. As you were trembling to take your skirt off, you looked rather mad. And don't give me that look. Or I will tie you up to the bed for one week straight without you able to do anything rather then taking my cock. Begging me to stop. As you opened your mouth at his rude words, he shoved his point and middle finger to your mouth. You gagged immediately. He pressed his two fingers inside your mouth and his thumb under your chin to squeeze his hold on you and putting so much pressure you had to obey to his movements. He got you to your knees in front of the couch.

Bring the ice, now. As you were trying to bring some oxygen again to your lungs, you stumbled and got up to your legs. He grabbed you by your arm and put you to your knees again. This man had incredible strength. Did I tell you to stand up? As you were looking to his eyes, you saw pure rage. You got so afraid to do anything. Afraid to talk. So you just shook your head. Words…. he exhaled as If he was done with you any second. No… No what? No Charles, you did not. I'm not Charles anymore. - giving you the glance again. You felt tears welling up in your eyes.

You knew what he meant by that. It happened just once when he took control over you so much you thought it is impossible to be this dominant over anyone. It was just once because it was so intense for you you cried so much and begged for not doing it ever again. But Charles was not playing with you anymore, not today. You fucked up bad.

No, Monsieur. He just nodded - Now get the ice. As you were going on all fours to the kitchen, getting the ice from the freezer, tears running down your face, sobbing quietly so he doesn't hear you. When you got back, tottering from side to side, you stopped at his feet. Crying more loudly than you indented to. You crying now? - he chuckled - Should have thought about that earlier when shouting and swearing at me. He took the ice from your hands and placed it somewhere, since you were still looking on the ground. Bend over the couch. Qui, Monsieur.

As you grabbed yourself from the floor, you carefully walked to the couch and laid down, hearing nothing around you. It was so quiet. The only thing you've heard were your sobs. And your fearful thoughts loud and clear in your head - you awaited the worst. As you were lost in your thoughts, he got you snapped back in the moment by slapping your bare cheeks. He left his rings on his fingers, a high possibility he will tear your skin since it happened once already. His spanks were rough and hard as his soul right now. You squeezed your eyes as you processed the pain. Trying not to scream. You think you can raise your voice at me? or swear at me? SLAP You were moving up and down since you wanted to make friction elsewhere to not feel the pain. You will pay for that, cherie. He slapped you five times in a row making you scream and shout Please stop-p - making it hard for you to even speak since all you felt were tears and frog in your throat. Shhhh, don't be loud cherie. Neighbors don't need to know you were a bad girlfriend right? Slapping you again for six times. You buried you face so hard into the couch, you could hardly breath. You wanted to disappear so bad in that moment.

You hissed when suddenly you felt the ice on your skin. Shh, don't move. - he put his big hands on your hips to hold you still. Grabbing your skin roughly you felt the skin was already bruised. C-Charles *sob* - he slapped you right away, grabbed you by your hair and spoke directly to your ear. I'm N.O.T. your Charles anymore. I'm sorry monsiuer, - crying so much you were surprised you could talk - I'm s-sorry. You better be. As he continued to cold your cheeks, you stopped moving and shivering. Thinking you are done with the punishment, which made you slightly happy again. But Charles thought different. As you were staring blankly to the floor around the couch, thinking you paid for your previous behavior, you heard a belt clinking. As you moved your face to its direction, you saw Charles standing above you with the belt in his right hand. Your eyes almost fell out, stopped breathing as well…

Ma cherie, you will be a good girl won't you? - smiling at you like a devil itself. You started crying again, but nodding at the same time. Qui, Monsieur. As you put your head back, tears running down your cheeks, you awaited the pain. One, two, three… you grabbed the couch with your hands. The pain was unbearable. More painful since your skin was cold and heating up at the same time, making it extremely painful. How would you rate your previous behavior? Che? - you asked since it was so hard to concentrate on anything else but pain. Three hard smacks with the belt. D.o.n.'t. make me r.e.p.e.a.t. myself. I don't know! - sobbing so hard. - Five, five…. - you hoped your prayers will be heard. Five? - he chuckled loud. - I'd say at least sixteen. As he started his count, you screamed desperately, taking your hands to hide your cheeks. His movements stopped for a sec. T.a.k.e. your hands away RIGHT NOW or I will slap them with the belt as well. You suffered but obeyed. Sobbing and crying on the couch as you slowly put them beside your laying body again.

When he got to the number sixteen, you were just crying with your eyes open, no facial expression whatsover. Awaiting the end. Si jolie fille. Look at the color cherie. - you heard a camera shot sound. As he was walking to where your face was, grabbing you by the hair and showing you the photo. This is you. You get this for mistreating me. You saw how badly red your ass was, seeing the scarred skin - devastated Que c'est beau. He grabbed you under your armpits, putting you in the air as if you weighted nothing and tossing you next to the the kitchen counter. Your hips bumped to the edge. Take off your shirt. - you did as he said, your whole body trembled right now. He went for your nipples, squeezing them harsh between his fingers, making you put your head back to his shoulder and moaned. Now he was aiming for your neck, sucking harshly and making hickeys all over your skin. You were a moaning mess right now. He chuckled at such condition of yours. You won't ever disobey me again, If I say you don't go to talk to anyone, you just won't. Or else I will make out of your neck a hickey graveyard it will be so embarrassing for you to go anywhere in the public… silence and sobbing.

He grabbed you by your hips and pushed you towards the table in front of the window in the living room. You yelped as your hips hit the edge of the table. Before you could stand up he was already right behind you. Spread your legs for me. - you cried out out loud since you knew what will come next. You felt his fingers running down your folds, humming as he liked what he saw. What a beautiful view ma cherie. You are so wet for me. - shoving his finger inside you making you moan embarrassingly. - Your pussy is so needy. - he chuckled - Let me take care of her. He shoved inside you so deeply you felt the pain in your lower stomach. You gasped for air and gripped the edges of the table frantically. - he chuckled all of a sudden. Ah, you finding comfort in it? Let me change that for you. As he grabbed you by the neck, he put you higher so he could grab your wrists and lock them together with his belt. You deserve nothing but comfort.- He spitted in your right ear. Putting pressure on your back now, you laid back again with your arms held together in a fit. He started to fuck you again, not letting you to adjust to his size. Making it even harder for you. He went for a faster pace, making you scream once again. Merde, cherie. Your pussy is so good. Much better than you are to me - You sobbed. I'm-m sorry, I'm sorry. Please. You don't deserve it. He grabbed you harder by your hips, pressing his nails into your skin to make sure to leave marks on you. You are all mine cherie. Do. - thrush - you - thrust - understand - thrust? Qui, qui Monsieour. As you sobbed and moaned out loud at the same time. He chuckled at your messing state. He went with this thumb to your tight hole and shoved it inside - again not giving you time. AHHH Charles ! - *slap*. Shut up you whore. He was attacking both of your holes making you squirm under his touch and seeking your pleasure peak. As you moaned even more and more he went for even a faster pace. You like this cherie? Qui, qui. As you moaned. And since Charles knew your body like the back of his hand, he knew when to stop. NO! - you cried out loud. - P-please, pleas-se…you breathed loudly and deeply, still sobbing since it hasn't left you. He laughed at you cruelly now. He took his other hand and touched your clit so lightly you started moving towards the friction. He slapped your ass, making you a hiss sound. D.o.n.t. move. - you nodded slightly. He continued brushing your clit slightly, teasing you so much you thought your on the verge of breaking out. He got yourself right where he wanted you. You were moving from side to side from the so close orgasm you needed release immediately. You were a writhing mess under him. You are such a whore ma cherie. Please. I'm begging you, You think you deserve it now? Qui. - he laughed at you. No, not yet.

He grabbed you by your hips and tossed you to ground. Making you hit your face since your wrists were still tied together. Sit up. You did, hardly but did. Now listen to me, it will never ever happen again, you understand? You will never talk to me that way ever again. And I will make sure to do whatever it takes to make yourself seen off limits, and if you just cannot listen to me, I make your skin look so miserable that guys will be afraid to even touch you from such sight. Do you understand? Qui. - you meant it as you lowered your eyes. You never wanted to see this Charles again. You wanted the soft one, the loving one. The one you were used to. As he was looking at you, he smiled a little. Last lesson. Open your beautiful mouth. You did as he said. He shoved his big thick cock in your mouth, making you gag around him. So good for me cherie. So good. - your eyes teary once again, breathing harder for him. I bet your pussy likes this. I bet it's a mess beneath you. You moaned loudly at that. Because he was telling the truth.

As he was thrusting his cock in your mouth, the more he groaned out loud, you knew he was getting close. He thrusted in your mouth one last time and put him out. Jerking himself off and squirting on you. As he was panting and finding his steady breath again, you felt his cum dripping down on your skin. If it means to put my cum on you and letting you go like this to public, I will do it. I won't disobey you again, Monsieur. Good. - as he exhaled, he took you by your wrists and let you stand up.

You've learnt your lesson cherie. - he kissed the inside of your wrists, he let the belt loose. Grabbing you under your knees and the backside of your shoulder blades. Taking you to the bedroom. Laying you down on your stomach. Put your hips a little bit higher for me mon amour. - and you did. Loving your old Charles is back again. He sneaked his right hand to your clit, rubbing it softly and his dick once again entered your hot pussy. Making you moan immediately. Be a good girl and come for me. As he was moving in and out of you, rubbing your clit, focusing on your pleasure, you didn't last long. Moaning so hard and calling his name, he groaned to himself and supported you to come for him. He knew your body so well, putting light kisses on your neck since he knew you love it. You had the most intense orgasm so far being with him, moaning and saying his name on repeat. Breathing loudly and coming from your high, he slowly and gently started massaging your back. Making you hum a little at his soft touch. You like this cherie? - you just hummed and smiled to yourself. Good. He continued for a little bit, starting at your back, going down your legs and up once again. And then turned you around, so you were on your back. Facing him. Seeing his beautiful face telling you, he adores completely what he sees beneath him. He used his knee to spread your legs, and you let him. Smiling at him you didn't know. You're so good for me right now ma cherie. - as he shoved himself inside of you. Making you arch your back. Y-yes. He moved slowly and lovingly. Putting his hands over your face, so you were forced to look into his eyes. His eyes were no longer dark, but soft. His green eyes were speaking to you, safety and intimacy. You were lost in his eyes as he were lost in yours. Te amo Charles. J'taime YN. He kissed you on the forehead and went a little faster with his thrusts. I want you to come once again, when I have my tongue down your throat. You started kissing each other, him invading your space inside your mouth. As you started to shiver, he hold your hips steadily and went faster. You were a moaning mess, losing your breath as he was stealing it from you. You came again, seeing stars, feeling his touch and his warm embrace. He groaned loudly to your ear as he came again, right after you…

As you both found your breath again, he looked at you, his eyes lazy. I'm gonna prepare a bath for you. I'd like that - you smiled at him. He kissed you on the cheek, stood up and went to the bathroom. You wanted to go after him but your legs were weak, so you just sat down on the bed again waiting for him. What is wrong mon amour? - he looked concerned. I cannot walk. - looking at him under your lashes. Smiling a little. He took you in his arms and took you to the bathroom. Putting you inside the warm water with bubbles and candles around. I will make dinner meanwhile you rest, it will be ready once you're finished. - he kissed you on the forehead, ready to leave. Charles? Yes? I am so sorry. I will never behave that way again. - you looking down into the water. I know - he rested his hand on your right cheek and kissed you on the forehead again, before disappearing to the kitchen.

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine

505 notes · View notes

rachelsfav-queer · 1 month ago

Text

Snoods

Wednesday silently snuck past the yellow police tape, careful not to let the bright, neon color touch her skin as she entered the now twice abandoned mansion. The last time she was here… she shuddered just thinking of that horrible night. It was certainly the worst birthday ever and not in the exciting way.

Shaking off the unpleasant thoughts, Wednesday continued into the mansion, entering the same way as before.

Everything was different inside and yet exactly the same, but she wasn’t here to explore or sightsee. She was here to grab something that never should’ve been lost. The raven went straight for the stairs down to the basement and soon enough… she found it. And it… broke her cold, black heart in ways she hasn’t felt in so long.

Shredded black fabric laid across the cold and dusty floor and Wednesday dropped to her knees to pick up all the pieces, tears flowing from her eyes unbidden as she tried to hold back her sobbing. Wednesday held the tattered fabric to her chest as she cried for who knows how long, just kneeling in this abandoned house that has taken so much from her, now taken one more thing from her.

Suddenly… “Wednesday?” A voice rang out throughout the house, traveling down the stairs like the echo of lost memories.

“Wednesday! Wednesday, why are you out here again? I swear, if this is another stupid- Wednesday?! Oh my gosh, Wednesday! Are you okay? Why are you crying? What happened? Are you- hurt… oh… Oh, Wednesday,” Enid’s voice softened impossibly as she noticed her girlfriend clutching the torn snood she had made for her all those years ago.

Enid quickly wrapped the seer up in her arms, holding her carefully, but oh so tightly, just how she knows the girl loves and as she does, the dam breaks and Wednesday lets out an absolutely heart-shattering sob as she curls up into Enid’s embrace.

Endless apologies would be spewing from Wednesday’s mouth if she weren’t crying so hard that any words were just completely incoherent. Enid shushed her gently and comfortingly rubbed her back and her head.

The werewolf waited out the worst of the storm, letting her girlfriend have a very overdue and much needed cry session that would hopefully wash out most of the emotional gunk that had definitely built up inside the poor raven since the day her pet scorpion died and she had sworn off tears and emotions altogether. It was necessary, Enid knew, despite how painful it was for her to hear the smaller girl sounding so entirely broken down and defeated.

Once Wednesday’s tears had slowed and all that was left was small little sniffles and hiccups, Enid pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes and spoke, “Feeling a little better? Yeah, I’m sure you are, that was probably a literal decade in the making. Don’t worry, baby, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Wednesday hiccuped as she looked down at the torn snood in her arms, “It’s ruined…”

Enid simply smiled softly, “It’s okay. I’m very sure I can fix it, it’ll be good as new. But… I don’t think this was all just about the snood, was it?”

The raven shook her head as she looked away sadly. Formulating how to word it all, she was interrupted before she could even speak. “Hey, Wednesday? You don’t have to talk about it, if you’re not ready for it. Take your time, okay? Besides, we should probably get out of this creepy ass house before we get caught down here or something. Principal Weems will have a total fit if she finds out we were out here again.”

Enid’s bright optimism and enthusiasm always managed to sweep away all the pain and darkness inside Wednesday in a way that she just couldn’t fathom was real. Nonetheless, she nodded in agreement and the two girls stood up and walked out of the mansion together, this time holding hands while Wednesday held her snood tightly in her other arm.

It wasn’t okay yet, but it would be, in due time. Enid was right, it just takes time. And it’s okay to not be okay all the time. As long as they had each other.

(Day 29, Prompt 29 of Wenclair-Tober. Sorry this is so late lol. I took melatonin last night and it always makes me sleep in super late lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! Yes, it takes place in S2 time, whenever that exactly is. Weems is alive because I said so! Just remember, everyone, it’s okay to not be okay. Take care of yourselves and be patient with yourselves. Much love, Rachel ❤️)

#wenclairtober #wenclair #wednesday x enid #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #enid x wednesday #wenclair prompts #writing prompts #october writing challenge #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #my writing

56 notes · View notes

ynbabe · 10 months ago

Text

Fake texts au- pt.17 bffs with the rookies+ The Sleepover I

You had called all the rookies and a few others as well, the first one to show up was Lance. You had become friends with him through your uncle and in the short time you knew him, you both had become close.

You ran up and hugged him, making him stumble back a few steps. He laughed, dropping his bags and wrapped his arms around you.

You let go, patting his shoulders, leading him into the house, he motioned to the driver he had rented to bring in the rest of his luggage.

"Holy shit, are you moving in with me?" You gasped as the man brought in two huge suitcases and went back for more.

"You don't want the stuff I got you then?" He raised his brow, sitting on the couch next to you. You shifted closer to the man and nudged him with your shoulders, making him smile.

"Nooooo, I want the stuff, you can leave though," You shrugged.

"Man shut up," he retorted, "I've got to meet with Nando anyways,"

"Well, I'm still your favourite Alonso though,"

"You literally never were," he bit back, making you gasp, you turned your face away, hand on your chest.

"Outta my house man, ungrateful ass-"

"I'm literally doing you a favour." He deadpanned.

You just stared at him for a second and then broke the silence, incapable of staying still.

"You want a pizza?"

"I want to sleep, jet lag fucking sucks," He groaned, even though the time difference between Canada and Spain wasn't more than his f1 schedule, it was a lot.

"Yeah, come on, I'll show you to your room." You got up, him following.

"By when do the others get here?" He asked as you led him up the stairs.

"Well, Arthur's getting here in like half an hour, Logan and Oscar are getting here by like 5, and Mick's gonna be here by 7, we'll start streaming by like 9 I think," His eyes glistened when hearing Mick's name, obviously happy to have someone he was close with.

I opened the door to the guest room and he immediately made his way to the bed, all but passing out.

You went back down, knowing you'd have to open the door for Arthur soon and I didn't want the bell to disturb Lance. So I opened the door and laid on the couch, scrolling on my phone.

I was lost on TikTok, spam-sending random reels to the group chat.

Suddenly someone grabbed the hood of my hoodie and pulled it, making me jump off the couch and fall on the floor dragging the person down with me.

I opened my eyes to find a laughing blonde bent over my torso.

"What the fuck, Arthur!" you yelled, pushing the still-laughing boy off me, sitting up and adjusting my hoodie.

"Well, who asked you to leave the door open?" He retorted, letting himself fall on the couch, I sat back where I was and he turned, placing his head on my lap, "By the way, did you get a roommate or something?" he asked pointing to the bags.

"Nah, that's just Lance," I said, returning to my scrolling.

"Charlies' asking if we'll be drinking today,"

"i dont know why?"

"So he can call the cops in advance,"

"WE ARENT THAT BAD" I cried out knowing it was a lie.

As time went on, I shifted into a more comfortable position, sleep finally taking us over.

I woke up with a start and startled the boy curled beside me. The doorbell kept ringing a second time, loud and harsh.

"What the fuck," I called out, rubbing my eyes and then remembering Logan and Oscar were supposed to be arriving.

I ran to the door, jumping over Lance's bags in the hallway, opening the door to find my closest friends, "Hi! How are y'all?" You asked, helping them with their bags, and setting them next to Lance's.

You hugged the Brunette and then the blonde who wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in, and making you feel warm.

"How was the flight?" You asked, your hand still around Logan's waist, and his around yours.

The three of you spoke as you walked to the living sofa, where Arthur was finally awake enough to be human.

"Hey, Art," Logan ruffled the other blondes hair and jumped over the back of the couch to sit next to him.

Arthur, who was happy to have someone else to lean on, immediately latched onto Logan, pushing the American down, and passing out again.

"He's jetlagged, or something, I don' know," You shrugged when the boy looked at you for an explanation. "I'll go wake up Lance, y'all know where your rooms are right?" You asked and Oscar nodded, the others either sleeping or trying not to move.

When the man finally woke up, and didn't throw pillows at you with scary accuracy, he walked down the stairs behind you to the living room and greeted the rest of the boys.

You all freshened up and called for some food, waiting for Mick.

Finally, the blonde arrived, smiling and surprisingly with no jet lag.

You guys ate a quick dinner and set up Oscar's twitch channel.

You rubbed your hands together maniacally making the boys look at you questioningly, poor guys, you thought, they have no idea whats planned.

its_y/n_love

liked by 301,023 users

Tagged: @/arthur_leclerc @/logansargeant @/oscarpiastri @/lancestroll@/mickschummacher

its_y/n_love never get near the Leclercs when they're sleepy. Ever. Also join Osc's stream ASAP

view all 10,874 comments

username omg girl what?!??

username SHES BACK! I REPEAT SHES BACK

its_y/n_love @/arthurleclerc pls for the love of god let go of that american

Logansargeant I am traumatised and I will be pressing charges, square up. Oscarpiastri Oh yeah? At least you didn't have to cook with that on your back its_y/n_love mans slept on me ONLY I CAN COMPLAIN

Maxverstappen Can attest, they are very touchy

charlesleclerc YOU SAID WE WEREN'T GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT Username not even one sec and shes causing chaos, bbg never leave again Username TALK ABT WHAT?? MR.LECLERC WHAT HAVE U DONE??

Landonorris I would very much like the credits. Thank you.

Mickschummacher 🥰🥰

username boy stand up username OMG MICK!!

Lancestroll We haven't done anything but I feel like I need to call Nando already.

username pookie?? what are you doin here??

Arthurleclerc ALLEGATIONS! FALSE ALLEGATIONS

Oscarpiastri Now why would you lie when we have proof? Logansargent This isn't even the worst of it its_y/n_love It really isn't

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1 @eugene-emt-roe @fangirl-dot-com @landosgirlxoxo @aquangxl @sachaa-ff @tyna-19 @assholeinatrenchcoat @allenajade-ite @megatrilss1885 @squirreljoe @jsjcue @s4turnsl0ver @yl90@elijahslover @trouble-sistar @notizzyj @chilwell-mount @hiireadstuff

325 notes · View notes

hitomisuzuya · 2 years ago

Note

HII SUZUU!! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I seriously missed sending Requests since you're literally one of the best writers that I've ever seen! <33

I was wondering if you could do a Scaramouche x Reader x Kunikuzushi BUT a Celestial Type? (NSWF OFC COURSEE)

Like Scaramouche is a Demon and Kunikuzushi is an Angel. Them always fighting one for Distruction and the other for Peace.

What if they both laid their Eyes on Reader? Kunikuzushi always following reader like a Lost Puppy but being extremely Perverty while Scaramouche is always in the Shadows watching us like a Pray...

Poor Kunikuzushi losing his Innocence after he found some of reader's used underwears and him using them to jerk off (what a pervert angel!) But Scaramouche is another story..

Scaramouche literally appearing in front of reader while reader was taking a bath and fucking them till they become a little dumb pet<33

If you do this request then thank you cuz I WILL LITERALLY DIE CUZ I WAS DREAMING OF IT LAST NIGHT😻

Demon!Scaramouche x fem!reader Angel!Kunikuzushi x fem! reader. Smut. Masturbation. Dumbification.

I got a little filthy with this one. Thank you for spoiling me with such a delicious ask and your kind words❤️ Sorry it took me a few days to write this. Here is the pitch and I hope you enjoy. I tagged them as Yanderes cause it seemed fitting.

Angel! Kunikuzushi who clung to you the moment he met you, following you everywhere like a lost puppy. When he wasn't fighting Scaramouche's constant need to spread chaos and destruction around him, he spent his time obsessing about you.

He was reduced to a panting, moaning mess on the floor of your room, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, his cum shooting to stain the fabric of your panties again, having lost count of how many times he'd come awhile ago.

Every now and then, Kunikuzushi's soft lilac eyes would focus on the scene going on in the bath tub, his cock hardening again, fucking himself into your panties, letting out a desperate whine that made the demon fucking his precious girl dumb in the bathtub laugh.

Demon! Scaramouche thought Kunikuzushi sounded just as pathetic as you did, begging for him to fuck you harder, your walls clamping around his cock, squirting into the warm water as it sloshed around you.

While Kunikuzushi followed close behind you with every step he took, begging for you to touch him even a little bit in a way that would make him jack off for hours just thinking about it, Scaramouche preferred to stay in the shadows, stalking and watching you.

Waiting for the right time to take you, fucking your brains out and reducing you to nothing but a dumb little pet who begs for his cock inside of you like you crave it.

"More!" You cried out, digging your fingernails into his back, your legs wrapping around him to push him deeper inside of you. "Make me come again, please! I'll do anything you want, Scaramouche! Please!"

"I'll put on a collar on you, then. It'll be the perfect touch for my fuck toy to wear," He slammed himself inside of you again after he pulled his cock out of just to watch the cum gush from your cunt. "I'm going to enjoy to staining that with my cum once I buckle it around your pretty throat. I'll yank on it while I fuck you, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Scaramouche pinched one of your nipples roughly, making you cry out, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts. "I would love that more than anything! Scara! Scara!" Every thrust coiled your orgasm tighter and until you came again, your mouth agape, your tongue hanging a little from the side of your mouth.

He continued to thrust into you, making bath water slosh out onto the floor. "You sound like such a dumb slut," His degradation continued to make your walls clamp around his cock, tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks as you choked out sobs of pleasure. "Go ahead, say Kunikuzushi's name too. Give him a thrill. It'll make that angel cum right on your panties the second it hears it."

When you could only babble incoherently, Scaramouche laughed and pulled out of you. "Opps, I guess you are too fucked dumb to listen to a word I say." Shoving you away from him, he lifted himself to sit on the edge of the tub. Grabbing a handful of your hair, he shoved your head down, forcing his cock into your mouth.

"Suck loudly now, my pet. I want Kunikuzushi to see you drool all over my cock while my cum spills from your mouth," Scaramouche moaned when you took him into your mouth, flattening your tongue along his cock in an almost worshipping manner.

You did hear yourself much after that, maybe a whimper that sounded like an echo in your ears as you swallowed his cum, your throat convulsing as you coughed.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #scaramouche #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #kunikuzushi #yandere kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi smut #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #kunikuzushi x y/n

833 notes · View notes

sashaisready · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter Sixteen - Friends?

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 17

Series Masterlist

The next day at the bakery you opened up as normal, yawning and stretching as you laid out everything you’d already baked in the early hours. You kept an eye on the door all day, expecting another visit from your mobster stalker, but there was no sign. Maybe he’d finally listened to you this time. Maybe it was over.

But you had a feeling it wasn’t.

You went out briefly in the afternoon, asking Wanda to keep an eye on things while you dropped some cash off to pay in at the bank and picked up change for the register. You told her to call you if you know who made an appearance. It wasn’t fair for her to keep fighting your battles.

You must’ve only been gone half an hour but were stunned when on your return you could barely open the front door. As you battled your way in you understood why - the bakery was absolutely jammed full of helium balloons. In every possible colour. They were squeezed into every available space, covering the ceiling entirely as the ribbons hung down to the floor. You could barely walk through the store.

“What the…” you spluttered as you fought your way to the counter.

Wanda cried out when she realised you were back. “Oh thank God!” she exclaimed as she untangled a rogue ribbon caught around her ankle.

“They showed up literally seconds after you left. I thought maybe it was Peter again after the minions y’know? But the delivery men kept bringing them in! They kept coming!! They said I couldn’t refuse them as I’d already signed - I thought that was it but I'd only see the first batch...”

You groaned, snatching a small white envelope off the counter and tearing it open - like you didn’t already know exactly who did this.

So you like balloons? Then balloons you get.

I’m sorry for all of it but I’m not giving up

- JBB

You rolled your eyes.

“This is ridiculous” you shout.

You wade through the mess of ribbon and navigate through the balloons to lean over the counter and pull out a pair of scissors. You begin to cut open and pop each balloon you encounter, clearing a path and scooping the deflated debris into a trash bag as Wanda watches on, amused.

“Pathetic dick measuring contest” you mutter.

“What have you got yourself into…?” Wanda sniggers.

“Don’t…I cannot deal right now…”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you know exactly who it is. In spite of yourself, a small part of you is flattered by this over the top, excessive and silly gesture. Clearly, you have his attention. But you ignore that part of you.

“Doll. Did you get your gift?” a low voice purrs through the receiver. You shudder briefly, before snapping yourself out of the effect that voice has on you.

Before you answer him you snip the edge of the balloon you’re holding, moving it to your mouth and inhaling deeply.

“What gift?” you ask, your voice comically squeaky with helium.

Bucky laughs at that and it catches you off guard. It’s a genuine, unselfconscious laugh. A giggle if anything. Worlds away from the big bad wolf everyone sees him as. You soften slightly at that giggle.

But then you remember his coldness towards you. The woman in the bakery with him. Cancelling your date.

You harden once more.

“I told you to leave me alone” you hiss down the phone at him. "How is trashing my store leaving me alone?"

But he just laughs. Not the sweet laugh you just heard, but the mocking laugh he reserves for his cruelty. You sigh. You’re exhausted from the emotional whiplash. Every time you see a glimpse, a glimmer of a Bucky you could like (maybe could even love?) it’s extinguished quickly and the mob boss Bucky is back.

It’s tiring. You have no time for it. You want consistency. Transparency. Sweetness.

You want Peter.

“Goodbye, Doll” he rasps and promptly hangs up.

You roll your eyes, resisting the urge to launch your phone across the room.

Wanda looks at you expectantly and you just wave the scissors at her dismissively. “He’s just being a dick” you shrug.

Wanda nods, but can’t help but see how flustered you are. She understands firsthand how deeply Bucky grates on you, but can’t help but think the fact he bothers you so much is significant.

“Seems weird to spend hundreds of dollars on balloons just to be a dick” she says pointedly.

You shrug again. “Well, he’s a pretty weird guy so...” you say.

Wanda nods again, grabbing a trash bag and helping you with the balloon massacre. She would never tell you of course, but wonders if there are stronger feelings on both sides than either are willing to admit.

Friday rolled around and you were buzzing with excitement for your date. You took the early shift so you had time to get ready, Wanda waving you off as she looked after the bakery.

The rest of the week had been mercifully uneventful, no more balloons, no more sudden SUV visits. You’d sent your feedback on the Assistant resumes to Pepper and she had started the interviews. The candidates seemed really promising and you had a great shortlist.

If Bucky was still watching you - his henchmen had been more discreet than usual.

After trying on seemingly every piece of clothing you owned, you settled on a figure hugging black dress. It showed off your curves without being too revealing. You posed in the mirror as you slipped on your black heels, feeling confident and happy in how you looked. You’d styled your hair in your favourite way and spent a decent amount of time on your make-up, painstakingly applying it - even mastering your eyeliner flicks. It was nice to dress up, normally you were covered in flour and frosting at the bakery - dressing for comfort rather than style. You’d even put on your lucky red lingerie set…just in case things went really well.

You felt a bit nauseated as you thought about the last time you’d had sex. That night with Bucky. As good as it had been (and it had been good) - his subsequent rejection of you had been too much to bear. You didn’t want to open yourself up to that again. You wanted to take things slow, get to know Peter, not let your libido lead you again.

Although he was very attractive…

You checked your phone to re-read Peter’s confirmation of your plans. You were meeting him at a nice Thai place in Manhattan. You checked the time and rushed out, hopping on the subway and making your way there. You were full of excitement, optimism and hope for what lay ahead.

The date was going really well. You and Peter hit it off, talking like old friends and laughing away. He worked for a shipping company with a real cast of characters, all with colourful nicknames like Drax and Rocket. He had you doubled over as he told you stories of them and their escapades, seemingly rarely able to get through a project without some sort of high jinks.

He liked a lot of pop music, but nothing before the 90s. He listened attentively to you in return, smiling warmly as you spoke and gushed about the bakery as you ate your meal.

He was open, straight talking and upfront. It was genuinely refreshing to be on a date with a man who didn’t play games or make you second guess his motives. What you saw was what you got with Peter.

He even shared a bit about his ex, Mora, who he split with earlier in the year. No drama or fireworks. Just a gentle fizzling out, wrong place wrong time for them both. He spoke about her fondly, and you felt jealous that his life was so drama-free.

As dinner rolled on, you had a sudden sad epiphany. As much as you liked Peter, and you did a lot…you weren’t sure it was in a romantic way. He was handsome, funny, sweet, great company, honest…what was wrong with you exactly??

But ‘it’…whatever it is…just wasn’t there.

You told yourself you just hadn’t given him enough of a chance yet. You swallowed your doubts down, shaking them off as you continued the conversation.

You could have a nice time with Peter. Have fun with him, dance to 70s hits in your apartment and laugh until the early hours. Never doubt how he’s feeling, know exactly where you stand at all times. No SUVs. No goons. No crime.

Later after too many glasses of wine, Peter accompanied you home to be sure you were safe. You laughed for the entire journey, basking in the light of his company.

As you got to your building you stopped and smiled at him as you leaned against the brick wall of the block's exterior, the warmth of the wine spreading in your belly.

He smiled back at you, his hand reaching out and cupping your cheek. He leaned over and kissed you softly, his tongue tenderly slipping into your mouth. You returned the kiss, your hands slipping up around his neck as you pressed into him.

It was nice.

Very nice.

But nice was all it was.

You felt nothing.

No fireworks. No excitement. No delight that this was happening. You could’ve been kissing anyone.

Not like Bucky. When he kissed you it was like a thousand explosions at once within you, your legs wobbling and your skin inflamed.

Maybe that was because you knew Bucky was bad for you, and you were stupid.

Regret and sadness washed over you as Peter pulled away. Just as you went to speak, you watched his face pull into a grimace.

He inhaled sharply. “Oooh” he said as his lips curled around his teeth.

“What?” you asked, your hands still locked around his neck.

“Look. Don’t take this the wrong way. You’re great and all…but…I didn’t feel anything from that” he said kindly, wincing. “Like…nothing. I’m real sorry”.

You stared at him in shock for a moment before your expression relaxed and you began to laugh.

“What?” he asked nervously.

“Me fuckin’ neither, dude” you grinned with relief. “Oh…thank fuck”.

You both laughed together as you took your hands down from his neck and he exaggeratedly mimed wiping the sweat from his brow in a gesture of relief.

“Thank God” he muttered. “I mean I had fun tonight. Really. And you’re great to hang out with. But I thought I was going to have to break your heart…”.

You swatted him playfully, shrieking with amusement.

“Get over yourself, bro” you laughed.

He smiled back at you.

“Friends?” he asked, extending his pinky.

“Friends” you agreed, hooking your little finger around his before you shook them together.

“It’s been genuinely great getting to know you, Peter”.

“Have I blown my chance to get free danishes?” he asks teasingly.

You grin. “Of course not…come by any time”.

Once again, you valued Peter’s candour. And you were always happy to have new friends.

You waved him off after some further giggles and shook your head, amused at the idea of you both uncomfortably squirming throughout dinner - both too nervous to tell the other that you weren’t feeling it.

As you stepped towards your building door your smile dropped when you saw a familiar car parked up across the street. The initial annoyance you felt at seeing it was suddenly replaced with fear as you realised they’d witnessed everything. You doubted they’d heard your mutual declaration of agreeing to be friends - but definitely would’ve seen Peter kissing you. And that would be radioed to their boss, pronto.

Nope, not on your watch.

#mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #sweet and sour fic

132 notes · View notes

storydays · 9 months ago

Text

Welcome to Heaven P1

(3rd POV)

*Dream Start*

"(Y/N)...." sang a masculine voice, making (Y/N) gasp and look around. That voice..he know that voice anywhere. "(Y/N)...." the voice called again. The prince looked around realizing he was on the streets of Hell, and started running past other demons who were almost frozen in place,. "I-I'm coming!" he called, running as the voice sang for him again. The mismatched eyed demon panted as he came to a clearing with a singular figure facing away from him.

"There you are, (Y/N)." The figure turned around to reveal (Y/N)'s previous lover, Archer with a serene smile.

(Y/N)'s eyes widen, and he felt the world stop around him. "A-Archer?"

The red fox demon smiled and held a paw out towards the prince. "Come on, ya slowpoke!" called the Cantabrigian demon. "Wait for me, Archie!" (Y/N) tried running towards him but his feet were stuck to the floor.

"(Y/N)!" Angel cried, making the prince look up in alarm. "Tesoro?"

Suddenly his two lovers were killed in different ways: The white furred spider was stabbed through the heart, killing him instantly. Archie was sliced in half, just like he was all those years ago.

A choked noise escaped (YN)'s throat as he met sharp lime green eyes before the gray hooded figure raised their spear and charged at the frozen prince.

*End Dream*

(Y/N) gasped sharply, sitting up in bed, heart racing. Mismatched eyes looked around the room anxiously before noticing Angel laying on his stomach, face smushed against their pillows. Heart still racing, the blond prince carefully slipped out of bed, and snuck out to his balcony, closed the door, and lit a joint.

He hadn't needed to smoke in a while, but that literal nightmare shook him to his core. (Stop at 58 secs)

The prince jumped feeling arms wrap around his waist and felt Angel's head press into his back. "Sorry, did I wake you?" (Y/N) sniffed, wiping his tears away. "No, bambino, but why are you crying?" He asked, pulling the blond into his lap. "Nothing, go back to sleep." (Y/N) said, stubbornly, putting out the joint in his hand.

"Okay, we can sit together until you're ready." replied the spider. That simple statement was the straw that broke the camel's back, and (Y/N) turned around into Angel's chest fluff and started sobbing, gripping onto his fiance with a desperation that Angel had never seen before.

Angel's mismatched eyes widen at the initial shock before wrapping 3 arms around the prince, one hand running through the blond hair. "Let it out, amore mio. I'm right here." The Italian stood with the prince in his arms, carried him to the bed, and laid himself down, not letting go of the emotional blond, not once. Angel started humming a song his mother sang when he was a kid, and smiled softly as (Y/N) drifted off to sleep, clinging to his fur, even his sleep.

"I'm right here."

*A few hours later with Chaggie*

"Okay, I have my warm weather clothes, and my cold weather clothes. I have a light jacket, flak jacket, and rain jacket. Wait, does it rain in Heaven?" Charlie rambled excitedly. "Charlie," chuckled Vaggie, rolling her eye, "You're only going to Heaven for a few hours."

"Vaggie, we are only going to Heaven for a day. And I just want to be prepared. It's our last chance to convince Heaven a soul can be redeemed." Charlie smiled.

"Yeah, I wish I could come, sweetie, but I have that thing..." Vaggie trailed off. "What thing?" Charlie questioned, hands on her hips. "The thing with the...thing, um, fuck, gah, I'm such a bad liar."

"Vaggie, you're my partner. I need you there with me." Charlie held Vaggie's hand, looking at her hopefully.

"Fine," sighed Vaggie, smiling as Charlie cheered, before pressing a kiss to the one eyed warrior's nose, sharing a loving look.

*Downstairs*

Angel burst into the foyer with a heavy sigh. "Oh, fuck." He leaned against a nearby wall, jumping as Nifty popped up from a nearby plant. "You look messy! What happened to you?" She giggled, looking him up down. "It's who tried to happen to me. And the answer is everyone..." Angel grumbled tried walking away before pausing in thought, "Twice!" He called, cracking his back as Nifty dusted him off.

"Because I'm free now, dickbags think they can still use me as Val's toy. Fuckin' pieces of shits!" He grumbled, collapsing on the couch, face resting on (Y/N)'s thigh, a hand coming to rub his upper back. "Did you have a nice time in town, tesoro?" "Mmhmm, " hummed the spider as he turned on to his back, to look at the other's mismatched eyes. "Yep, and I've got a surprise for later, sweetness." Angel pressed a kiss to (Y/N)'s thigh before smirking as he twitched from the touch.

Everyone in the foyer yelped as an explosion echoed in the hotel. "Arghh! What the fuck is that wall?" groaned Angel hands covering his face."What up, hoes!" laughed a heavy Australian accented voice.

Angel suddenly perked up with a laugh, "Holy shit, Cherri Bomb? Long time no see, baby!"

"Angie, you bitch! You been texting me depressing shit all day; figured we could tear shit up like old times." grinned the Cyclops, playfully punching Angel in his stomach. "It's been fuckin' forever! Here, hold this." She tossed a bomb over towards Charlie who panicked, tossing it back and forth, "Ah! Oh my God!"

"Nope, gimmie that." Vaggie grunted as she tossed the bomb out of the broken wall. "I love seein' ya, Cherri, but I'm too tired. I need to pass for a couple of hours before Sweet Cheeks and I go out for the evenin'."

Angel made a move to fall back onto(Y/N)'s lap when Cherri caught him by the back of his shirt. "Oho, you can sleep when you're double dead, fuckhead!" the Cyclops grinned as the spider looked down at her with a fond look. "Come on, what you really need to do is a recharge, a re invigoration, a re--"

"Responsible night on the town!" Charlie chimed in with a big smile. "That is a great idea. Hi, Charlie." She introduced herself as Angel sat on the arm of the couch, yawning. "That's my wall that you just blew up. It's so nice to meet one of Angel's friends. Aagh, he never brings anyone around." Charlie hummed thoughtfully, missing the smirk between the two friends.

"Wonder why?" snorted the blonde sinner sarcastically, arms crossed. "Yeah, me too. Anyway, Angel and everyone else have been working so hard, I think they deserve to have a little fun."

"W-w-wait, they?" asked Cherri as Charlie grabbed everyone's attention. "Yeah. Hi, everyone! Angel and his friend are taking you all out for a night of fun and relaxation!"

"Wait, I am only here for An---Ooh! Never mind. Let's go!" cheered the cyclops as (Y/N) sent her a huge stack of cash. Angel looked up at his fiance as he pressed a kiss on Angel's head. "Don't worry, Tesoro, the drinks are on me tonight. Have fun, and I'll be back in time for our plans." Angel quickly sat up and gave (Y/N) a chaste kiss before the prince got up to get ready to leave.

"Grazie cara.(Thanks, babe.)"

"Anyway, the portal to Heaven should be opening right about..." "Now!" Charlie screamed in delight before she tossed Vaggie into the portal without a thought.

"Bye!" she called, (Y/N) chuckling under his breath as he walked through.

Just as the portal closed, Sir Pentious finally came out of the kitchen, drinking a juice. When he saw Cherri, he spat his drink out.

"Well, if it isn't my arch-nemesis!" He called with a dramatic flair, making Cherri roll her eye. "Have you come to meet your battle, Cherri Bomb?"

"Apparently, I'm going out with Angel and I got to drag your sorry asses along." she shrugged, popping a piece of gum in her mouth. "O-Oh, you and me are going out, like, for fun? I, I didn't think this would ever happen. What do I do? What do I wear?" He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, wincing as she crushed his hand.

"Don't fuckin' touch me, you munted dickhead!"

*In Heaven*

"Vaggie, (Y/N), look at this place! It's so clean! Isn't that amazing!" gushed Charlie as she looked around.

"Yep. Super cool. Heaven. Wow." deadpanned the one eyed woman, making (Y/N) raise an eyebrow at her.

"Hiya! Welcome to Heaven!" called a perky angel as he popped from behind a podium. ""Can I get your names, please?"

"Oh! Uhh, uh, uh, Charlie Morningstar!" stuttered the princess. "Charlie Morningstar, hmm." Hummed the angel as he scrolled through his book. "I'm not seeing you on my list here. That's so odd. "

"Well, our dad got us this meeting." (Y/N) spoke up, cringing at the angel's voice. "Oh, Dad! Okay." the angel replied as Charlie looked down. "Try Lucifer Morning....star." She said, hesitantly.

"Oh, fuck! Yeah. Hoooo, hehehe. Yikes, am I right?" He laughed akwardly.

"No. No you aren't right." snapped (Y/N), glaring at the angel who was now eye level with them. "Are you sure you're in the right place, because I think you might be a little lost."

"Oh, here we go." Vaggie rolled her eye. "No, uh..we're, we're here for a meeting." Charlie explained.

"Saint Peter." called a melodic voice, making the group turn. "We can take it from here." a tall woman smiled as she and her companion changed forms and landed.

Saint Peter bowed as the two beings approached. "Greetings, children of the Morningstar. I am Sera, the high Seraphim of Heaven. You are gifted to be here."

The other being with Sera, squealed excitedly as she approached.

"Hi! I'm Emily, the other Seraphim." (Y/N) and Charlie smiled at her enthusiasm. "Though, you can call me Em! Emmy, E, whatever you want. I go by whatever. Welcome to Heaven."

(Y/N) walked behind as Emily and Charlie dragged Vaggie into a tour. He looked around lesiurely, barely listening as Charlie rambled on, wincing softly at how bright everything is.

Adam and Lute were enjoying a walk with one of their exorcist friends, who wore a mask over his face when suddenly they all froze before turning around."Holy fucking shit balls. Am I seeing who I think I'm seeing?" Adam asked Lute who glared at the princess who was now doing some weird crab walk.

"What is she doing here? How did she even get up here?" snarled Lute. "Who cares? I'm handling this shit right now." The yellow eyed angel growled, starting to follow the group. "Wait, you want to start a fight on the promenade in front of everyone?" asked the figure in the mask, Cambridgian accent heavy. "Better than waiting for the fucking extermination." He snapped, before Lute grabbed him by his shirt and hushed him harshly.

"Sir, what was the Seraphim's one rule?" she demanded. "Ughhhh, 'no one but the exorcists can know about the exterminations'. I know, fine. "Adam whined, drinking his drink.

"Don't fucking shush me, bitch." He glared.

"You should listen to your lieutenant, Adam." Sera snapped, appearing suddenly and making the two exorcists jump in fear.

"Fuck, Sera! You can't sneak up on a guy like that, jeez." He replied. "Your Highness, forgive me, but what are the hell spawn doing here?" asked Lute.

"Well, you failed to control the demons unrest, and now Lucifer is involved. Setting up an audience for his misguided daughter." Sera rolled her eyes slightly. "I never would have agreed to your....yearly activites if I thought it would bring trouble to our doorstep. Keeping Heaven safe was my only reason for allowing it."

"What do you want from me? I'm just one guy." Adam shrugged.

"I want you to do whatever you need to do to keep this problem from getting any worse. Are we clear?" The seraphim leaned down to look into Adam's face as he grinned.

"Yeah. Got it." He sighed.

*Back with Charlie*

"Okay, I love Heaven! Vaggie, did you see the ice cream shop? They had sprinkles made of rainbows." She squealed, flopping on the bed.

"Those are just rainbow sprinkles." Vaggie replied boredly.

"Emily's going to take me to a zoo where all the animals are actually soft. You coming?"

"Uh, I need a break. But hug a koala for me." Vaggie sat on their bed, smiling softly.

"O.M.G. Can you imagine an actual koala? Ahh! See you later!" Charlie called before leaving. Vaggie sighed before groaning when a knock echoed in her ears.

She opened the door to reveal Adam and Lute and their friend behind them.

"Hey there, Vag-asaurus!" greeted Adam with a shit eating grin.

"Charlie will be back soon. You need to get out now." Vaggie replied, as Adam came in anyway.

"I'm not looking for the blonde, babe. I'm looking for you." "Why?" the Latina place her hands on her hips, eyebrow raised.

"Maybe because you left the band. You tried for a solo career. Or I guess it's more of a solo career. But I guess it's more of a duet." Adam grinned leaning closer.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Vaggie replied, voice trembling slightly.

"Do you really think I wouldn't recognize one of my top girls just cause you're out of uniform?"

Vaggie's eye widen as she remembered her old life as an exorcist. "You were on the front lines. I wouldn't forget a bad bitch like you. It's why I named you after the best thing ever....Vagee." Adam hummed.

"It's actually pronounced Vaggie." She scowled.

"Mmmmm no! Anyway, you sure fucked up, didn't you?" Vaggie looked down as she remembered being wrongfully punished for letting a child go: She lost an eye, very painfully, and lost her wings and place in Heaven. "Sinful filth like you has no place in Heaven!" Lute growled before she and Adam walked away.

"To think someone as worthless as you landed Lilth's little hottie. 'Grats on that, I guess."

"Their love is vile and blasphemous." The two women glared at each other. "Hot as fuck, though. But I wonder what your bitch would think if she found out you are actually one of us. Hmm?" Adam smirked.

"What do you want?" Vaggie asked through gritted teeth. "Simple: You work for me again, and at the hearing, you're going to help me shut this kindergarten snowflake bullshit down for good."

"Never."

"Oh, yeah. You know, that's totally cool. I guess I'll just tell little miss butterlfies and rainbows that she's been fucking someone who's killed thousands of her people. I'm sure your relationship will be fine. See you in court!" The three Angels left, Lute with a smirk on her face.

Vaggie put her head in her hands, heart racing. "Well," She gasped hearing (Y/N)'s voice, and sat up, seeing him leaning on the door, normally gentle eyes now glaring red at her. "I've had my suspicions....but hearing it come from their mouth's and you didn't deny not one word, confirms everything." He entered the room and slammed the door behind him.

"Wait, you knew I was an exorcist? How?" Vaggie asked. "You have a giant X over your eye and wield an angelic spear. It's not rocket science." He rolled his eyes before his sword was suddenly pointed at her throat, making her freeze.

"Vaggie, do you know how easy it'd be to kill you where you stand? To make you feel the pain you've inflicted onto thousands of my people?" He growled, fangs glinting in the light as Vaggie started shivering in fear.

"But..in doing so, I'd be hurting Charlie and I love her too much to do that to her. You'd better be lucky that Charlie put her marking on you." Putting his sword away and taking a step back, (Y/N) sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I won't spill your secret, but it'd hurt Charlie less if she heard it from you, and not that dickwad." (Y/N) started to leave before pausing and turning to the ex-angel with a slightly sorrowful look on his face.

"We're friends, Vaggie, but hurt her again, and not even her mate marking with save you from myself or our father."

With that final thought, he slammed the door and left Vaggie to her thoughts.

*In court*

Charlie groaned, seeing Adam and Lute and their mysterious fly into their seats. "Oh no, not him again!" "What up, baby!" sang Adam. "Saw that you went to my manager. Low blow, Karen."

"We are gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell, can be redeemed into the heavenly realm by means of this Hazbin Hotel. Princess Morningstar?"

"Thank you, Seraphim." Charlie cleared her throat nervously, before starting to read from her index cards. " 'Webster's dictionary defines redemption as--'"

"Objection! Lame and unoriginal!" Adam called. "Sustained. No further dictionary references, please."

"Right, okay. Uh, uh...Uhhhh....Mmm." Charlie groaned, flipping through the cards, seeing multiple references.

"If you have actual evidence, then show it already." Adam said, crossing his arm boredly.

"We have a patron right now who is making incredible progress." "Who?" questioned the angel. "Angel Dust." Charlie replied confidently, not seeing (Y/N)'s flinch at the mention of his lover. He'd gotten so head over heals over the spider, and proposed, that he'd forgotten that Angel was working towards redemption....and they might be separated, forever.

But...he couldn't deny Angel the chance for a better life, even if that means.....

(Y/N) shook his head before turning back to the meeting. "Oh, yeah. The porn demon. He's totally worth being redeemed." Adam blew a raspberry like a child.

"Yeah, babe, and that talented mouth of his....ooh, so redemptious." (Y/N) sighed sensually, watching in satisfaction as the angels cringed, and Adam actually gagged.

"If you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into Heaven?" Charlie snapped, sending her brother a disgusted glare. "Ummm, w-w-well...Uhhhhh."

"Aw, does the big bad Adam have nothing to say?" mocked the prince.

"Is everything alright, Adam?" Sera asked coldly, glaring at the yellow angel. "Give me a fucking minute, okay?" He snapped, pulling out a quill and paper and started writing and muttering to himself.

Feeling pleased, he sent the paper to Vaggie who read it aloud, " 'Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man.'"

"Are you fucking serious?" (Y/N) growled.

"Uh, yeah, sure got me here, didn't it? Right, Sera?"

"He was the first human soul into Heaven." agreed the Seraphim.

"Well, I bet Angel is doing all of these things right now!" Charlie stuck her nose in the air, confident in the spider.

"Then let's fucking see it, brah!" Adam snapped his fingers, and a giant white glowing orb appeared.

"Your Honors, may I present exhibit A..."

*With the rest of the gang*

"Woo! Isn't this place the fuckin' best?" Cherri grinned. "I'll admit, 'Consent' is a good name for a sex club." Husk agreed.

Pentious looked down to see Nifty with a broom on her hands, sweeping aggressively. "Niffty, dear, what are you doing?" He asked. "I'm sweeping! Urgh, look how icky is is in here!" She scowled at the floor, hands on her hip.

"That's because we're at a club, dear." soothed Pentious. "Oh! I thought the hotel looked different!" Niffty dropped the broom, and giggled before wandering off. "Ms Bomb, I-I'd like to buy you a drink." He offered. "Why? Didn't you say we're arch-rivals?" Cherri smirked, loving how flustered the snake was.

"Um..uh..because I'm buying everyone a drink!" He called loudly, the patrons cheering louder. "Free drinks! I love alcohol!"

"Good. I need a drink after today." Angel sighed. "Ever since I was released from Val, it's like all any demon sees is a free opportunity. But since I've been free, I've only been wanting (Y/N). It's like....I don't even like sex unless it's with my bambino. (baby). Is that weird?"

"Nah, man. It just means you care about the Prince. That's called being in love. Trust me, I know a thing or two about love." Husk huffed a laugh into his drink. "Here, take one of these, and you won't be worrying about nothing." Cherri promised, holding a hand full of different pills.

"Here we go." Husk rolled his eyes.

"Ohhh! Look, the drunk sobered up long enough to judge us!" Cherri mocked, elbowing Angel.

"I ain't the one trying to get into Heaven. I also ain't the one who's engaged to the prince, and made him a promise to try and stay clean. You wanna fuck up all your progress? Be my guest. I just thought you were better than that." shrugged the cat demon.

"Thanks, Captain Buzzkill. Come on, Angie, let's get fucked up! It's been too long!"

Angel looked down at his ring on his upper left ring finger, thinking about the one who gave it to him.

"I, uhh, I don't know. It's been a long day, and I don't need to go too wild."

"Mmhmm." Husk hummed, smiling to himself, proud of his friend.

"Come on, bitch. If you've really been stressin' that hard, you deserved a little R and R and some THC, or maybe PCP with DMT. Aw fuck it, let's see where the night takes us, huh?" Cherri grinned, not noticing Pentious returning with drinks in his hand.

"I-I guess."

"Cherri, I bought you a shot." Pentious's smile wavered at the deadpanned look she gave him. "B-Because I bought everyone another shot! Hoorary!" He cackled. "Yeah, another drink! I love alcohol!" A patron cheered.

Angel and Cherri tossed back the shots with a satisfied sigh.

"Aahh, fuck it! Let's do it!"

*End chapter! Enjoy!*

#storydays #viziepop #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #x male reader #hazbin hotel fandom

72 notes · View notes

sleepandblog · 2 months ago

Text

in solitaire, when tori mentions how her and charlie's parents got rid of all of the stuff charlie had collected over the years while he was in the hospital, i was like, what the fuck??

because it reminded me of a few years ago, when my older brother moved out and i was moving into his old bedroom. i had to move all of my stuff into there, but my sister wanted to do something with my old bedroom when i finished moving my stuff out and she felt like i was taking too long. so when i had left the house with my mom for like two hours, i came back and she had moved all of my stuff for me and in that moment what i felt was like indescribable rage. i screamed and cried and told my sister i hated her and trust i was way too old to be acting like that. i moved all of my stuff back because i needed to do it my way, and i kept freaking out because i thought she'd thrown away some of my stuff because i had some trash in my room but i just thought she threw away other things for some reason. like just the idea of someone moving my things is enough to trigger me but she actually did move literally everything i own and i'm not joking that was like the worst day of my life. i just laid on the floor and cried.

anyway that's like really embarrassing but since charlie has ocd i don't understand how he didn't react to that or maybe he did and it just wasn't shown for some reason. like maybe he just was so caught up with everything else that he couldn't even gaf about that idk

#ocd #charlie spring #solitaire alice oseman #heartstopper #heartstopper season 3 #tori spring #osemanverse

29 notes · View notes

prettythrills · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter Two - Stayaway

Dont buy TLOU | Daily Click | Series Masterlist

Kinks/Warnings: Canon-typical violence, canon-typical setting, death, mild language, barely proofread but edits have been made, use of Y/N (its only like twice dont kill me)

🎙️ Xan Says: I wrote this in somewhat of a rush because I’m afraid I’ll be super busy soon and I wont be able to update very much. So, with the time I do have, I’ll try as much as possible to put out as many chapters as I can in my free time. I don’t think I’ll be too focused on writing soon. Sorry chat!

W/C: 1.5K

You get closer to see the commotion. You practically ran over. Your arms drop to your sides once you realize that it is, in fact, Abby in the flesh. She immediately went to attack the guy with his hands on the girl; Yara or whatever her name was. He realized who it was in an instant. “Abby?” She didn’t say anything to him. Instead she goes back to hurt him even more. First head-butting him then taking him down and breaking his arm.

“Abby? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You yell out with a confused expression. The rest of your group runs around the area, searching for the others and the source of the voice. “Why the hell do you care?” She asks with a grunt. She’s now taking this guys pistol and beating him with it. “Yara!” Another small boy calls out. He’s rushing over to the girl who was laid out on the floor with blood dripping down her face.

“You went AWOL over these Scars? I dont understand.” You chuckled in disbelief. It didn’t necessarily have anything against the Scars, but you couldn’t believe these kids were the reason Abby suddenly decided to go rogue. “Yara, get up!” The boy continued.

You’re still looking at Abby for an answer, but she averts her gaze over to those kids she was looking after. The only sounds that fill the open space were thunder, rain and occasional gunshots. “Gunshots! Come on!” A soldier nearby yells. Their boots hit the ground hard, rain sloshing as they move with urgency.

“Abby, they’re gonna fucking kill you if they come over here.” Your heart rate speeds up for whatever reason. You’re scared for her and this isn’t even your issue.

“Yara, please!” The boy cries. “Lev, we have to move.” Abby spoke gently to the boy as he’s leaning over (what you assume is) his sisters body, placing a hand on her shoulder as he looks down at her, sobbing. “There is nowhere to go. The island is surrounded. Had you been paying attention to literally anything you’d know there’s a raid going on today!” You stress.

Abby shoots you a look that says shut the fuck up, and you listen. You’re standing off to the side, still holding your pistol. The boy still didn’t want to leave her. Abby pulls him up despite his protests. “I see someone!” A soldier shouts.

Fuck. Now they were definitely screwed. And you might’ve been screwed too. Your world crashed down before you — somewhat. Were you regretting being here now? Definitely. You looked like you helped her in killing this soldier. “I can’t leave her here!” The boy shouted. His words fall on deaf ears. Abby knows this pain. She knows it all too well. And even if he did want to wallow in the death of his sister, Abby would let him do it in a place that wasn’t like an active fucking warzone.

You’re planning on running with her when suddenly you’re surrounded. Soldiers come running from every corner of the thick forest. “Stay back.” Abby growls.

“Drop it! Now!” A female shouts. “Holy shit.” “It’s Abby! And.. Y/N?” The majority of the whispers and words being shared around the group were laced with disdain. You were guilty in their eyes despite being innocent.

Abby holds Lev tight as if he’d fall through her fingers like sand had she let go. Your hands raise slowly after holstering your gun.

“I said stay back!” Abby shouts. Lev is still in her grasp.. albeit struggling to get free, but still. His eyes are watching Yara closely, never faltering. He seems to be checking for any signs of life. Her body remains motionless.

You had two options — to side with Abby or save your own ass. The second option would’ve been less likely to work because well, look at the mess you’re tangled in now.

“Stand down!” You turn your head to figure out who’s voice it was, and also who had been approaching you two. Your heart race increases tremendously. No matter how this is framed, you’re still guilty. You’re still a traitor like Abby was.

You weighed your options. You could either be a suck-up and make yourself seem like the perfect little angel who wouldn’t hurt a fly, or you could take her side.

Either way, you and her were both walking targets. You were surrounded by a barrage of people with guns, and you and her had no chance of hiding with the amount of flashlights on.

Issac emerges from the shadows of the forest. He’s disappointed. Abby is shocked.

“Issac.” Her voice loses its previous malice, looking at the man with her mouth slightly agape. The gun in her hand that was previously being pointed at all the soldiers falters slightly now that Issac is here.

“What the hell are you doing?” Issac questioned with furrowed brows and a perplexed expression. “More importantly, what the hell are you doing?”

His gaze fell on you. Your hands were still raised. “Wrong place, wrong time?” You said, cocking your head to one side. “I’m not joking. Were you planning on leaving with her?”

His voice was louder by an octave. “She didn’t do anything, Issac. Okay? This— this was all me.” Abby butts in, moving to the side slightly in an attempt to “protect” you.

You knew why she was doing it, and god how you craved to shout that you didn’t need saving because you didn’t, but you say nothing. You let her protect you.

You turn back to see Abby dropping her gun, pushing Lev to be right behind her. “I need you to hear me out.” She says, keeping her tone low.

You can read the expression on Issac’s face — he looked disappointed, then confused, then pissed. It was something that kept your mind from thinking about how you could’ve just been shot dead right now. But it doesn’t stop your heart from racing so fast that it might fly out of your goddamn chest.

“What’s that behind you?” Issac is looking directly at Lev. Issac raised an eyebrow at the boy, who’d been looking him in the face aswell. He steps a bit closer to her.

Abby holds her hand out as if trying to subtly tell him that she’s not dangerous. “He saved my life.” She held his gaze even though she was scared. “Move outta the way, we’ll deal with you back home.”

Issac shoos Abby away from Lev. He’s trying to kill him. You want to say something — to defend her, to convince him that Lev is innocent but this wasn’t your place.

As shitty as you think it is at the moment, you’re letting Abby fight her own battles. Coming face to face with Issac and his intense confrontation.

“He’s not one of them. Please.” Abby pleaded. “Abby, move.” Issac instructed.

“Goddamnit, he’s just a kid!” She shouts. Issac didn’t wanna hear anything else she had to say. He pointed his gun towards her.

You roll your eyes at Issac. Killing children? How unethical. Ethics were most certainly, definitely and obviously out of the question by now.

Abby and Lev take a step back, and as did you. One of your hands comes down slightly to hover over your holstered pistol. You’re looking at Issac, studying his every move.

A nearby soldier had taken notice of it. “Hey! Hands in the air!” A man shouts. He stepped forward so you could see him. Your hands return to being in the air.

“You have three seconds to get away from that Scar.” Issac’s voice cuts through the other chatter, his finger resting on the trigger of his pistol.

“One.” “You really gonna shoot me?” Their voices overlap as Abby is attempting to stand directly infront of Lev. “Two.” The grit in his voice becomes more apparent.

“I’m not fucking moving.” Her voice is shaky, yet she remains stoic. Lev is looking over her shoulder, seemingly scared for her and himself. Understandable given the circumstances.

Before Issac shoots Lev, bullets fly and pierce Issac’s skin. He’s been shot once or twice. It happened too fast.

The group of soldiers erupted in a sea of profanities upon seeing Issac get shot and killed.

You look to the ground to see that it had been Yaras doing. “What the hell?” You mumbled to yourself. “Shoot her!” They all shout.

They wasted no time shooting at her multiple times until she stops moving. Lev is in shock, as is Abby.

You look between the soldiers you once knew as comrades and some as friends to the girl you’d spent most of your days hating.

You couldn’t look at them the same now. You take off running behind her without hesitation. “Abby!” You shout. “Stop them!” “Don’t let ‘em escape!” The soldiers shout.

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?” Abby shouts over the bullets that were flying towards her and.. and you. “Getting the fuck away from them. That’s what I’m doing. Accept help for once, Anderson.”

Taglist: @aouiaa @starlight-savegery @addthespaghetti (If you’d like to be added, just leave a comment. ^^)

26 notes · View notes