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thyme-in-a-bubble · 22 days ago

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the butchery of the beloved, the boulder, the bimbo and the brilliant

kinktober, day twenty-five

a/n: ahhh, it's finally time to share the kinktober fic you all helped shape!! it turned out so fucking unhinged and i love it. happy halloween, folks!

polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

summary: “they–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

warnings: dark!rafe cameron x innocent!reader, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, slasher au, final girl!reader, 00’s slutty horror movie vibes, found family, nonverbal, murder, violence, blood, gore, crying, alcohol consumption, smoking, possessiveness, jealousy, mask kink, kissing, size kink, belly bulge, manhandling, dirty talk, just the tip, pussyjob, oral, spit kink, impact play, pain kink, choking, bondage, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, references to anal/painal

word count: 7400

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masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024

It all started at a lunch table, as so many friendships do.

The first one to sit was Hana, the nurturing soul of the group who had been a genius even back then. The next to join was Brian, the blonde bombshell whose smile brightened any room he entered. Then came Oliver, the guy who at twelve years old had stood up to the bully you couldn’t face yourself and swore from that day on he’d do so for each and every one of you till the end of your days. And lastly, there was you, in many ways the glue of the little pack.

To say that the four of you were thick as thieves didn’t even begin to cover it, as you’d been there for each other in every up and down in each of your lives since adolescence. Even when your mother passed, especially when your mom passed, that’s when you truly knew that they weren’t just your pals, but your family.

“Oh wow,” you breathed as you gazed out the window to the destination you’d finally reached, “is this really your dad’s cabin?” you glanced over your shoulder at the man behind the wheel, a proud smirk ever on his lips.

“Yep,” Rafe nodded and reached down to put the car in park.

You’d met him at the beginning of this semester and it hadn’t taken you very long at all to fall embarrassingly and completely head over heels for the guy.

Though he wasn’t the first boyfriend to grow to be a part of the tight-knit clique, he hadn’t been welcomed with open arms as you remembered Jerome, Brian’s partner, had two years ago. The gentle giant of few words had melted into your dynamic so naturally that none of you remembered any longer a time before him. But it wasn’t like that this time, not with Rafe. For some reason, your friends just couldn’t warm up to the frat guy you loved so dearly.

As you heard the other car roll to a stop behind you, the vehicle where the four remaining resisted, your fingers dipped down into your pocket and fished out your phone to snap a photo of the luxurious lake house and its breathtaking views, though that’s when you noticed the lack of bars up in the upper corner of the screen.

“Oh, damn it…” you squinted down at your phone, “is there seriously no service out here?”

“Yeah, sorry I forgot to tell you,” Rafe snatched out the keys, “this place is pretty off-grid, you have to probably walk half an hour or something to get any signal.”

The dry leaves on the forest floor crunched beneath your shoes as you stepped out of the car and tipped your head back to glance up at how high the surrounding pine trees stretched up towards the cloudy sky.

As Rafe hopped up onto the wide porch and fiddled with a bundle of keys to unlock the place, your gaze kept finding him as you hung back a while and helped your friends unload their car.

“Can you all please promise to play nice this weekend?” you quietly asked them.

“Yeah,” Oliver huffed, yanking out a heavy duffle bag, “I’ll play nice if he does, which I sincerely doubt since I haven’t yet discovered one kind bone in his body.”

“Oh, come on,” you defended your beau, “he’s the one who suggested this trip so that you could all finally discover what a sweet guy he actually is,” before you all ascended the short steps and filtered into the abode.

Not soon after you all crossed the threshold, Rafe’s arms seized your waist and drew you back against him, whispering in your ear that he wanted to give you the grand tour of the house.

However, when you reached the room that was to belong to the two of you for the rest of the weekend, his ulterior motives for the journey around the cabin became crystal clear.

At first, when he wrapped his arms around you from behind as you gazed out the tall windows at the foot of the bed, a giggle bubbled in your belly as you felt his desire poke the small of your back. Though it was already during his palm’s swift voyage under the hem of your shirt and up towards your boobs that he let slip what crucial item he’d neglected to pack.

“You didn’t bring any condoms?” you twisted around to glare at the persistence that still sparkled in his eyes.

“Oh, come on, don’t let that fact spoil our fun,” he pulled you back into his arms, “don’t you want me to dick you down this weekend, huh?” he murmured in your ear.

“Well, I don’t wanna get pregnant,” you slowly pushed him back, “so it’ll just have to be another weekend.”

But then he seized your hand and brought it down to the palpable tent in his jeans, “babe, come on. Just feel how hard I am. You can’t just leave me like this, not when it’s your fault to begin with.”

Your mouth then fell open as a shy scoff rolled off your tongue, “I literally haven’t done a thing, how is it my fault?”

“Come on, don’t act like a prude,” his grip around your wrist shifted and it slid down to rub your palm against his hardness, “be a good girl and at the very least get down on your knees.”

“No,” you chuckled lightly and pushed yourself off of him enough to stumble closer towards the bedroom’s exit, “if you’re so desperate, then take care of it yourself.”

Even though winter was creeping ever nearer, each one of you still dared to go down to the lake’s small pier and soak up the mild rays of autumn sun that peeked out behind the clouds. Both Hana and Oliver even gathered enough courage to take a dip in the cool water, though weren’t successful in any of their attempts at talking the rest of you into the same.

Though when your friends in the water began to splash at one another, Oliver teasingly let some splatter upon Brian as he sat on the edge, eyes closed and face turned up towards the sky as he relaxed back against his boyfriend.

“Oh my god! Don’t!” he tensely straightened up, his tone startling Jerome enough that his palm that rested on Brian’s waist tightened, “stop! You’re giving me flashbacks to summer camp!”

As you heard your grinning friend in the lake apologise, you opened your mouth to note, “that’s right, I forgot you went to camp when we were kids.”

“Yeah, it was honestly revolting,” Brian recoiled slightly at the recollection, “mosquitoes, terrible food, even worse people. Had a big old lake just like this one,” he gestured to the surrounding landscape.

“Actually,” Rafe then spoke up, his voice booming to your ears as he sat directly behind you, his legs slotted on either side of your frame as his chin rested atop your shoulder, “this place used to be a summer camp too back when my dad bought it.”

“Really?” Hana glanced up from the water, their childish game now halted.

“Yeah, I mean,” Rafe cast a glance over his shoulder at the structures on the bank just behind him, “it had been abandoned and completely deserted for a long time, but a lot of the buildings, the main house and the shed and stuff, they’re the original cabins just renovated.”

“Your dad bought an abandoned camp?” Oliver scrunched up his face, “okay, creepy…”

“Oh, hell no, I’m out,” Brain began to unravel, “babe, if we wake up in the middle of the night to a ghost child standing at the foot of our bed, it’s your job to take care of it,” he glanced over his shoulder at Jerome, “I’m too delicate and pretty to deal with the paranormal, especially if it’s kids,” to which his boyfriend simply hummed in agreement and soothingly let his palm run down his partner’s arm.

“Oh, this place isn’t haunted,” Hana said after she’d swam up to clutch against the side of the pier, “calm down.”

“Well, you don’t know that, it might be,” the blonde man behind you shrugged, “especially with what apparently happened here back in the day…”

“What are you talking about?” you looked back at him.

“Well, back like forty years ago or something, when this was still a camp, there was this one counsellor who one day just went nuts, like snapped and murdered every single person there,” Rafe told, purposely making his tone more ominous the further into the story he got, “that’s why the place was shut down and abandoned, why no one ever wanted to return it to its former glory. It’s one of the most gruesome unsolved cases in this entire corner of the country.”

“Wait, unsolved?” Brian clutched his imaginary pearls.

“Yeah, the guy was never caught, supposably never even left these woods…” he then leaned in and attempted to truly spook you all, “at night if you listen closely, you can still hear him sharpening his blade, getting ready to hunt his next prey…”

Hana, assuming that he was only joking, let out a dry laugh to cut the tense silence that had fallen over you all, “okay, very funny, ha-ha.”

“Yeah,” you gently rubbed your boyfriend’s arm as you tried to shake the tale off of you, “let’s maybe not joke about psychopaths running around a rural area when we actually are in a rural area,” though goosebumps still pricked and tingled every inch of your skin.

“Wait, how did it go?” your giggle mingled with Oliver’s as you both leaned against the kitchen counter, nearly bumping your foreheads together from how hard you were laughing, “was it…” and you began to hum a faint melody.

“No because, remember, at the end it went,” your friend cut you off and then made his own attempt, though much more accurate than your own, causing your eyes to promptly light up with recognition before they crinkled together in laughter as he tried to hit the high note at the end.

Once the woods surrounding the cabin had succumbed to darkness, the group of you all decided to wrap the day up in a bit of merriment, going through Rafe’s father’s liquor stash and turning up the music.

During your and Oliver’s secluded moment in the kitchen away from the rest, your laughter caused you to sway even closer to one another, your palm naturally planting itself on his chest as your faces nearly touched.

Though just as the pair of you were doubled over, a figure appeared in the doorway.

“Oh,” your grin continued as you spotted your boyfriend, “hey baby,” though your laughter finally began to fade.

Staring daggers at the man beside you, Rafe then uttered coldly, “hey,” before his feet carried him straight towards you, seized your waist and twisted you away from your friend and towards himself to capture your lips.

“Okay, right,” Oliver exhaled as Rafe kept marking his territory, kissing you way more passionately than he needed to, “I’ll just see you guys back in the living room then…”

You tried to tilt away enough to utter your friend a reply, though your boyfriend didn’t allow you, only let you go once Oliver was long gone and Rafe returned to his original plan of cracking open the fridge to get a cold beer for himself.

Walking back out into the living room while your boyfriend scavenged for a bottle opener, you plopped yourself back down on the couch, on the opposite side to where Brian and Jerome were snuggled up. Next to where the lit fireplace crackled sat Oliver in a chair and not far from his feet on the fuzzy carpet rested Hana, legs crisscrossed as she held up her wine glass to stare through it.

When Rafe rejoined you all, a freshly glowing cigarette trapped between his lips as he sauntered out of the kitchen, he situated himself right beside you, making space for himself where there hadn’t really been previously. In his hand, he didn’t just balance his own drink, but also a stout glass filled with an amber liquid, one he swiftly handed off to you even though you hadn’t asked for it, yet that had still been the routine of the evening, and after the first one was sloshing on your belly, the others became harder to deny and not accidentally sip absentmindedly, especially when he’d playfully help you along by tilting the glass the remaining distance up towards your lips.

“Sweetie,” Hana soon leaned closer to utter for your ears only, “don’t you want a glass of water instead?”

Though your boyfriend beside you unfortunately overheard and grasped his cigarette between two of his longer fingers, a puff of smoke accompanying his words as he answered before you got the chance to, “she’s fine.”

From across the couch, as Hana scooted back to her spot on the carpet, having not caught the quiet interaction, Brian then suggested, “why don’t we play a game or something?”

“What, like truth or dare?” Hana leaned back against an unoccupied armchair.

“No, this isn’t a slumber party. Isn’t there like board games here?”

Brian’s glance then drifted to Rafe as he smothered his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and, without warning, pulled you into his lap and caught Oliver’s eye from across the room as he shamelessly let his hands wander across your frame.

“Uh, yeah. There should be some in the cabinet over there,” Rafe vaguely gestured before his lips began to nip at the side of your neck, making your eyes flutter and only half watched along as Brian then got up to skim through the aforementioned cupboard.

“Okay,” he glanced through the options, “there are cards, so we could play poker or something,”

“No way,” Oliver swiftly shook his head and shot a glance at Jerome’s bulky form, comfortably slumped on the couch, “I’m not repeating that fiasco again.”

“Aw,” Brian glanced back at his friend, “but it was so cute seeing my boyfriend fucking demolish you,” and Jerome, the quiet man he was, just let out a grunt in agreement.

“No, pick something else,” Oliver waved a hand.

“Well, we’ve got monopoly, scrabble, cards against humanity–, uh! There’s clue!” he excitedly picked up the box and spun around, “oh, work! Let’s play that!”

With his kisses still dancing along your skin, they then suddenly ceased as Rafe announced, “you guys go ahead, I think Y/n is ready for bed.”

Shooting a concerned glance at how your intoxicated form wobbled slightly as your boyfriend helped you up on your feet, Hana uttered, “oh, are you sure?”

“She is,” Rafe’s touch clung to you, “aren’t you babe?”

“Oh, uhm…” you hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that he mentioned it, as if he himself planted the thought in your hazy mind, all of the alcohol had in fact made you pretty sleepy, “yeah, I guess so.”

“Alright, well then,” Hana’s voice stayed slightly hesitant, “sleep tight.”

“I love you guys,” you blew the group kisses as Rafe helped you over towards the stairs.

His kisses made you even more dizzy than you already were, so when you stumbled over the threshold into your shared room, you flopped down onto the mattress, though you weren’t quite sure if you’d just fallen or if Rafe had manhandled your intoxicated and pliant frame, giving you a push before his form was atop of yours.

Though now that you were horizontal and with the weight of a frat boy squishing you further down into the bed, that was when you truly noticed just how much you’d had to drink that evening.

The room was spinning as Rafe made out with you, his palms raking across your body like a wild storm, squeezing every soft curve he could get his hands on. As one hand disappeared up your skirt, his kisses wandered down and over your throat to the bit of your chest that was exposed in the neckline of your top. Wasting no time at all, he then yanked down the hem, catching one of the cups of your bra as well as he unwrapped your tit like a present.

As his face was buried in your boobs, surely giving you hickeys from the way that he sucked at your pebbly nipple and the surrounding sensitive skin, a breathless attempt at halting his affections left your lungs, “baby–”

Though he didn’t take the whimper as you’d intended it and simply continued, “shit, you’re so fucking hot,” he yanked down the other sliver of mesh fabric covering your other boob, “god, these tits are just insane.”

Weakly, you ran your fingers through his buzzed hair and gasped as you felt his hardness grind into your covered core, “Rafe, I–”

“Yeah?” his lips began to flutter back up to your own as he let himself rock against you with more intent, “you want this big dick, huh?”

“No, we can’t, we don’t have a–”

“Oh come on, baby,” he shifted, slipping a hand down under the waistband of your skirt and into your underwear, not hesitating to sweep his fingers through your wetness and bully your little button, “I know you want to…”

“Stop, that feels too good,” you tried, but couldn’t yank his strong hand away, “you can’t–, I have to get up and brush my teeth.”

“You know, all my exes let me tap it raw,” he purred in your ear and attempted to guilt you, “why won’t you? Don’t you trust me?” his touch then suddenly disappeared, but only to tug down the zipper on the side of your short skirt.

“Of course I do, I just–”

“Then why won’t you let me make you feel good, huh?” he yanked both your skirt and panties down your legs, so fast it nearly gave you whiplash. Crawling off of your jelly-like form, he stood tall and loomed at the foot of the bed. Wasting no time, he yanked your core closer to the edge before he desperately freed his fat cock. The taps he then offered your glistening cunt, letting you reel in the weight of his length, “doesn’t that feel nice, baby?” he smirked at the way your mouth fell open, “because it sure seems like your little pussy thinks so, just look,” you followed his command and glanced down to spot how his intimidating girth nudged at your weepy petals.

Even after months of dating, you still hadn’t gotten used to the daunting size of him.

“Oh, fuck…” your brows knitted together.

“Just listen to that,” he flicked the bulbous tip through your slick folds with more vigour, causing the melody of your want to echo even louder throughout the bedroom, “you’re so fucking wet. You want it so bad…”

You then felt yourself fade away into the intoxicating sensation, letting him continue to fuck your fold and make your pussy drool even further till your eyes fluttered shut.

However, it didn’t take very long at all, through all of the hazy motions, before the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside.

“Rafe!” you gasped, eyes snapping back open as your spine lurched off the mattress just an inch.

“Fuck,” he let out a loud groan, “sorry, babe. You’re just too soaked, it slipped in,” though didn’t move at all to pull it back out, since it had secretly been completely on purpose, “christ, you’re so tight…”

As he slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, you pleaded once more, “Rafe…” quietly begging for him to take it out through the conflicting haze as the familiar sensation of him stuffing you full always shut your brain completely off.

“This doesn’t count,” he claimed as he began to move, pumping just the bulbous head of himself in and out of your little hole, “not really. I can fuck you with just the tip, right?” a few of his fingers then lowered to strum your clit and summon a loud moan from deep within your soul, “yeah, that’s what I thought…”

As he removed his fingers from your clit, he then stuffed them in your mouth, muffling your soft whimpers and letting you suck them clean of your juices. As the taste of yourself coated your tongue, your own hands came up to clutch his, holding it near as you soon let your pecks wander across his palm and even down to plant a soft kiss to the gold ring that never left his finger.

“Oh–,” a gasp then left your lungs as he suddenly pushed in a bit more of his length, “Rafe, that’s too deep,” selfishly letting himself feel more of your warmth.

“No, that’s not too deep,” he began to fuck you properly, making you lose your breath, “you wanna know what is too deep?” a purposefully harsh thrust then buried itself so far inside of you that a tingle of pain joined the pleasure, “that’s too deep,” he then retracted just a tad, though still filled you up completely with each long stroke, “this is just right.”

“We can’t–,” you foggily tried to shake your head.

“Yes, we can. Just look how good you’re taking me, baby,” the palm you’d been clutching then escaped your grasp and scooped behind your head to tilt your neck and lock it there, directing your glance down between your bodies and forcing you to spot the faint bulge that appeared at each one of his mind-melting thrusts, “you don’t wanna stop…”

Feeling that all too familiar high begin to fuzz up your periphery, you trembled, “o-oh, fuck…”

“You feel so fucking good…” he grunted as your pussy began to clench around his fat girth, “just let me use you for a bit, yeah?”

“I–, I–,” gasps of air expanded your lungs as his pace then thrust you over the edge, “holy shit…” and your cunt helplessly clambered around him.

In your orgasmic haze, Rafe then abruptly flipped you around for you to lay on your stomach, and you barely managed to process it before you felt the weight of him settle atop of you, smooshing you down into the mattress as he slid back in.

“Ah!” you yelped at the way he didn’t hold back, “Rafe, it’s too much,” not even bothering to grant you a chance to recover, but simply fucked through your soreness, “I can’t–”

“Oh, shut up, you can take it,” he growled in your ear, his feet hooking your ankles and spreading your shaky legs further for him, “take it like the good little slut you are.”

It was strange how he’d taught your body to love the pain he inflicted. Even if the source was just his god-given gift of a girth, or curse, all depending on your point of view, and not the roughness he occasionally let slip out of the dark depths he tried to hide his jagged sides in for you and you alone.

“Fuck,” you soon heard him groan as his heavy sack slapped against your cunt at each one of his furious rocks, “I’m gonna cum!”

“Pull out–,” you managed to mumble into the sheets.

“What?” he kept on pounding your poor pussy.

“Not inside,” you tilted your head a bit to beg, “please!”

“Oh my god, fine,” he then begrudgingly pulled out and with one hand flipped you back onto your stomach as the other wrapped around his cock and he began to fuck his fist. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he crawled further up your body till his thighs caged you in, denting the mattress on either side of your face. He didn’t even wait for your lips to part before he shoved his dick down your throat, making you gag as he groaned loudly above you, “fuck…” and fed you his load.

When he soon flopped down on the bed beside you, the both of you catching your breaths, you instinctively gulped down what he’d given you before you curled your frame into his side.

As he wrapped an arm beneath your head, his glance then flickered down to you as he caught your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting you up to him before he asked, “did you swallow it?” digging his digit slightly into your skin and making you open your mouth for him, letting him discover the answer him himself, “fuck… that’s my girl…” he groaned before dipping down to kiss you.

The peck however didn’t carry on for long as his warmth then suddenly disappeared.

“Where are you going?” you watched as he got up, reaching out your arms to him in a silent plea for cuddles.

“I’m thirsty,” he zipped his pants back up, though didn’t bother with his shirt, “you just try and fall asleep, I’ll be right back.”

Flashing him a drowsy smile, “okay,” you then tug the duvet over your form and let your gaze shadow him as he made his way out of the room.

You thought you hadn’t managed to fall asleep, but evidently, you had as when the door to the room suddenly burst open, you were jolted awake, Rafe as well stirring as he was now settled behind you with an arm draped over your frame.

As three of your friends rushed to slam the door behind them, Rafe propped himself up and mumbled, “hey, what the fuck–”

But Hana then cut him off, a downright terrified look plastered not only all over her own face, but the rest as well.

“Oliver’s dead,” she uttered through the tears that thickened up her voice.

Still groggy, you slowly sat up and murmured, “what?”

Snapping her bloodshot eyes to lock with yours, she bellowed, “Oliver is fucking dead!”

As your gaze flickered over the group in search of any sign that what she claimed wasn’t true, you heard Rafe behind you exhale, “okay, this isn’t funny.”

“Oh shut up, you dick!” Brian shot back, doubled over in the corner, hyperventilating as Jerome kneeled before him, trying to calm him down.

“Hey, hey,” you gently raised up a hand, “don’t talk to him like that. What the hell do you mean Oliver is dead?”

“I mean that he’s dead as in dead, dead,” Hana explained, her words causing the world to suddenly crumble all around you, “Jerome went outside to get something from the car and found him on the porch, not moving and with his head stuck under the water in the hot tub.”

With tears now stinging the corners of your eyes, you struggled to suck in a breath of air, “what?”

“It’s that fucking ghost story you told us,” Brian panicked in the corner, “it’s real, isn’t it?”

“Okay,” Rafe uttered as the both of you leapt out of bed and scrambled to get some clothes on, “let’s all just calm down.”

“We gotta call the police,” Hana said, to which Jerome swiftly pulled out his phone, only to then curse quietly as he discovered what Brian too noticed when he glanced over his shoulder.

“Fuck, we can’t, there’s no signal!”

Hana then glanced around at everyone, “well then one of us has gotta drive and find some, right?”

“Hell no,” Brian shuttered, “if there’s some psycho out in these woods, then I’m not staying behind to get murdered. We’re all going.”

So that’s how, after you’d all scurried downstairs and filtered out through the sliding door to the porch, that you saw the truth with your own eyes.

Even though his head was obscured beneath water, the unmoving corpse of your dear friend still caught your eyes and stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh my god…” you sobbed, your blood running cold.

But before you could let your feet carry you closer to the scene of the crime, Rafe seized your arm and uttered, “baby, come on,” before pulling you along the last short distance towards the cars, “I’m sorry, but we gotta go.”

Though when you did reach the vehicles and attempted to start them, neither one of them would as they’d seemingly been tampered with, forcing the panicked lot of you all to run back inside.

“Shit…” Brian clutched onto the back of the couch in the living room for support, “what do we do now?”

“We can’t go on foot, not in the dark through this forest,” Rafe spoke, “so we gotta stay here till morning.”

Glancing around the space, Hana uttered, “then we gotta make this place safe. Lock all the doors and windows, find somewhere to hide.”

“Yeah, good idea,” your boyfriend nodded before suggesting, “let’s split up, it’ll be faster that way. Y/n with me, we’ll take that side of the house, and the rest of you stay over here.”

And before anyone could protest, he’d yanked you down a dark hallway.

You nearly stumbled twice as Rafe dragged your shaking visage through the lake house, only stopping once you’d reached a large closet.

“In here, baby,” he shoved you inside, though began to shut the door before he nuzzled himself in as well.

“No, what are you doing?” tears streaming down your face, you attempted to stop him.

Though he only halted his efforts a second, grasping your face as he uttered, “please, just stay here.”

“No, it’s too dangerous,” you clutched onto his dark t-shirt, “you can’t–”

“Babe, I can’t let anything happen to you. I can’t lose you,” he then collided his lips with your own, a sob escaping your lungs as he briefly kissed you, “please, just stay right here, hide, for me.”

Slowly, you loosened your trembling grip on his shirt and cried, “I love you.”

“I’ll be right back!” he promised before shutting the closet door and bathing you in darkness.

You had no idea how much time passed, if it was only a few seconds or hours that you stayed in the dusty and dim abyss of that closet, but then when a loud crash and a shrill scream suddenly found your ears, your shaky hand pushed the door back open.

You’d never in your life been as terrified as you were when you found yourself tip-toeing down that long, dark hallway. Though, as you sneaked past the ajar door to the study, your entire body suddenly froze up at the massacre that met you within.

Unmoving and slumped over the threshold, there lied Jerome, his face beaten to a pulp, rendering it nearly unrecognisable as blood slowly trickled into the tight curls on the top of his head.

Past where Hana was lying in the middle of the room, battered and coughing, in the corner you saw as a tall figure, masked by a dark motorcycle helmet, crouched over the still form of Brian and landed the last few blows to claim his life.

“Please,” Hana’s words were gurgled by blood as the killer slowly straightened back up. Twisting ever so slightly, the assailant plucked out one of the clubs from the gold bag that leaned against one of the tall bookcases, “just let me go,” your last living friend begged as you watched the murderer wrap his long fingers around the handle and take the few steps to where Hana lied, “just let me–”

As he took a wide swing and hit your friend right in her temple, the loud crack that echoed throughout the cabin made you shutter in terror and let out an uncontrollable scream, causing the killer’s head to snap up to spot you in the dark hallway.

For a second you both just stood there, frozen and staring at one another, like two deer in headlights. But then, as he began to move, taking his time as he stepped over the bodies littering his path, you stumbled back and collided with the wall directly behind you.

You tried to run, but even though you managed to slip out the wide glass doors and escape a good distance into the dark forest surrounding the house, the masked man still caught up to you and flung you against a tree. As he had you cornered, you felt him drag the cold tip of the golf club up your right leg and over your shuttering skin, drawing a crimson line of your beloved’s blood across your goosebump-ridden flesh.

“P-please don’t kill me, please–,” you cried, but just then, the moonlight that streamed through the dense treetops caught in a glint of gold that adorned the hand that clutched the club, a recognizable ring that caused your heart to drop.

As your eyes then flickered up to the dark helmet, that too seemed oddly familiar now that you truly looked at it.

In some sick and twisted way, you hoped that the killer had just stolen the jewellery from your boyfriend as a trophy of the night’s conquest and not the horrifying alternative.

But when you then tried to slip away and the man pushed you back, your hands defensively shot up, though only managed to knock the helmet off his head and let it tumble to the dark forest floor below, unveiling the earth-shattering truth.

“Oh my god…” you gasped, eyes wide as you now stood face to face with your boyfriend.

“Shh,” he took a step closer to you, caging you in even further, “calm down, baby. Don’t do anything stupid now.”

“They–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

A low sigh then escaped Rafe’s lungs.

“You really should have just stayed hidden like I told you to… I didn’t want you to find out this way… it would have been so much simpler if you’d just bought into the story I made up…”

“You killed my friends…” your chest ached with every painful gasp of air, “how–… how could you?”

“Oh, honey…” his head tilted slightly as the corners of his lips twitched, “do you really think this is my first time?”

Staring back at him in horror, you sputtered, “w-why?”

“Because of you,” he uttered as if it was obvious, “it was all for you,” his feet shifted him even closer to you, “they were a bad influence, so this was the only way.”

“They were my family!”

“They were like a poison, all of them, trying to control you, trying to take you away from me,” he inched in even closer, making you wish the harsh bark that scratched up your spine would simply open up like a portal and let you escape, “I know Hana was trying to get you to break up with me… Oliver always followed you around like a lost puppy, just hoping you’d one day spread your legs for him… and Jerome and Brian? They were just plain annoying,” his hot breath fanned across your skin as he petted the edges of your features with a knuckle of the hand clutching the golf club, “I did it all for you, for us, because I love you… fuck, you have no idea how much I fucking love you, baby…” he uttered before bringing the bud of the improvised weapon down upon the side of your head and knocking you clean out.

When you came to, the flicking light from a lit fireplace was the only source of light in the dim room you found yourself in. Arms folded up behind your head, a long rope was tangled around them and stretched up to a beam in the ceiling above. Your legs too were tied, keeping your naked frame upright and locked in place in the middle of the room.

“Fucking finally,” a low voice echoed from the chair across the chamber, causing you to wince as the tone pierced your soul and worsened your splitting headache, “you really took your sweet time waking up.”

Blinking back at your boyfriend as he leaned back in the seat, pants undone and his hard length tight in his fist, a murmur escaped your lips, “…you knocked me out…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he got up and walked towards your suspended form, “but you didn’t give me any other choice.”

As he slowly neared you, your glossy eyes flickered up to meet his.

“Rafe, please,” you heard your voice break as you tried to keep your tone soft, “you don’t have to do this. Just untie me, I promise I won’t be mad at you.”

“Oh yeah?” a small scoff slipped through his smirk.

“Yes. I’ll do whatever you want, just please let me go,” you begged, “please don’t hurt me.”

“Shh, shh,” his palm rose up to stroke your hair before letting it rush down and over the curves of your exposed body, “but you’ve been such a bad girl. I think you deserve a lesson that hurts a little bit,” his palm then slapped your pussy, still soaked and sore from earlier, rendering you to let out a shrill yelp, “it’s okay, you can cry…” he briefly leaned in to kiss your cheek before he shifted, though still staying so close that his nose ghosted along your skin as he made his way around to stand directly behind you, “you look so pretty when you do…”

You then squirmed as he reached down to grasp his cock and nudge at your sensitive entrance, “Rafe, please–, ah!” a cry then left your form as he ruthlessly rammed his way inside, plugging you up so completely that his balls nuzzled against your slick skin.

“Fuck!” his moan tickled the shell of your ear as he tangled his arms around your torso, “you’re so perfect…” he began to move, finding a selfish pace to wreck you with, “so perfect and all mine…”

As his thrusts caused your tits to jiggle, one of his wide hands soared up to grasp one while the other one snaked up to wrap around your throat. He then squeezed it fiercely enough that all your noises eventually faded away and he kept you completely quiet for a good moment before his hold slackened and he once again granted you the privilege of gasping for air.

“This is all you need, just me, only me,” he grunted, “just like this, using your pretty little hole for exactly what it was made for… you were made for me and nobody else… no one…”

His grip then drifted down to dent your hips before he lifted them, raising your bound frame till your tip toes were barely grazing the cold floor. Your back arched slightly as he repeatedly brought your hips back to him, his balls sloppily slapping against your swollen clit each time he manoeuvred your body and treated you like a toy.

When he then hooked an arm around your front to keep moving your body greedily against him, it granted the other one the grace to roam your frame freely.

As his fingers found one of your nipples in a harsh pinch, he let out a groan at the way you began to clamper down around his fat girth, “are you gonna cum, baby? Huh?” his palm then slapped your tit, “because it sure fucking feels like you’re close,” before he suddenly retracted completely, slipping out of your drooling cunt and causing a shy whimper to slip from your lips, one he swiftly cut off when he smacked your cheek, “too bad. You’re not allowed to.”

As you shakily struggled to stay on your unsteady feet, you panted, “Rafe, my legs, I can’t–”

“Oh yeah?” he mockingly pouted at you as he sauntered around to your front, “do they hurt? Are you tired?” and as you offered him a nod, his fingers grasped your chin, “well,” his thumb slowly stretched up to trace your bottom lip, “if you promise that you’ll be a good girl for me, then I’ll give you a little break.”

“Yes, I will,” a tear rolled down your still stinging cheek.

“You will what?” his palm briefly slapped the side of your face once again before returning to the same hold.

“I’ll be your good girl, I’ll do whatever you want,” you begged and as he then sank down to his knees, grabbed a pocketknife resting on a nearby table and held up his end of the bargain, slicing through the ropes at your legs and cutting them loose. A new wave of sobs tumbled out of your form, “thank you! Oh, thank you so much!”

Tossing the blade far away before he rose back up, “you’re fucking welcome, baby,” he then caught you off guard as he suddenly plucked your lower half up into his arms.

“W-wait, I thought you’d give me a break!” your legs trembled in his grasp as he slide you back onto his fat cock.

“Yeah, your legs were tired, so I’m being nice and giving them a break,” the wet claps of your skin roughly colliding once again filled the dark room, “your pussy doesn’t deserve one yet… unless of course, this is you begging me to fuck your ass…” a wicked wish that he’d been begging you for ever since the very first time he banged you.

“No! No, not there, please, I’ve never–”

“Oh, I know you haven’t,” he smirked, “that’s what makes it so much more fun…”

“Please, Rafe,” you blinked back at him, “don’t.”

“You told me I could do whatever I want…” he angled his bucks right against that spot that caused your teeth to dig into your lower lip, “you promised to be a good girl for me and just take whatever I give you…”

“I will,” your eyes couldn’t help but flutter, “just please not that.”

He then let a dollop of his spit splatter directly against your face, “alright, but only because I love you,” before he dipped down to plant a feverish kiss against your lips, “tell me that you love me too.”

“I love you,” you murmured against his mouth.

“Huh?” one of his hands let go of you and he shifted to balance you with only one, letting the other instead drift down between your forms to bully your puffy pearl, “what was that?”

“I lo–, a-ah!” you suddenly whined as he pressed one of his fingers inside your pussy, not caring in the slightest that you were already completely filled up as he forced his digit in alongside his fat cock.

“Come on, baby,” he stared down at you, “tell me you love me,” and kept up his ruthless pace as he hooked the finger inside of you, “tell your soulmate just how much you love and adore him, how you want nothing more than to worship him at his feet.”

“I–, I–, Rafe,” you gasped, feeling as if he was splitting you in half, “it’s too much–”

“No, it’s not too much, it’s exactly right, you can take it, baby.”

“I can’t–”

“I don’t fucking care,” he continued to fuck you without remorse, slamming his intimidating length so deep inside of you that you nearly couldn’t breathe, “I wanna feel you cum, just like this.”

“Rafe–”

“Do it or I’ll get a lot meaner,” he warned you before he finally got what he wanted. Your squirt drizzled down on the floor as the intensity caused a scream to erupt from your form, “there you go, fuck,” he groaned as he watched your pussy gush around his girth, “that’s it,” before the way your cunt clambered down around him caused him to let go as well, “shit,” and pump you full of his cum.

Rafe pressed a peck to your forehead before he pulled out of your warmth and you breathlessly glanced down to watch as his hot load began to leak out of your quivering hole.

“Alright, baby,” he exhaled and then uttered words that caused a shiver to trickle down your spine, “foreplay’s over. I think you’re ready for your punishment now.”

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iovetecchou · 1 year ago

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⌜ Kinktober ⧸ 2023 ⌟ ‧₊˚

authors note: my very first kinktober! woohooo! this will be all over the place fandom-wise, but overall i'm excited to test my luck writing for different characters!

below the cut will be the lineup for October! all are subject to change. please be sure to read the content warnings. as always, mdni.

fandoms included: bungou stray dogs, genshin impact, jujutsu kaisen, chainsaw man, noragami

╰┈─➤ Week One:

‧₊˚ October 1st ; Aki Hayakawa .𖥔 ݁ ˖

dry humping, clothed sex

content: inexperienced!aki, partial fuck or die situation, only one bed

‧₊˚ October 4th ; Chuuya Nakahara & Dazai Osamu .𖥔 ݁ ˖

threesome, drunk sex, hand kink, size kink

content: drinking game gone horny, competitive!chuuya also competitive!dazai

‧₊˚ October 7th ; Gojo Satoru .𖥔 ݁ ˖

make-up sex, unprotected sex, breeding

content: clingy!gojo making things up to you after a heated argument

╰┈─➤ Week Two:

‧₊˚ October 10th ; Fyodor Dostoevsky .𖥔 ݁ ˖

oral, somnophilia

content: established relationship, eating you out as a form of stress relief

‧₊˚ October 13th ; Yato .𖥔 ݁ ˖

virginity loss, perversion, lovemaking

content: established relationship, shinki!reader, the most vanilla smut on this list if we are being honest

‧₊˚ October 16th ; Bram Stoker .𖥔 ݁ ˖

bath sex, begging

content: fun in the tub! showing bram how bathtubs work but he miiight just get a little bit too excited sharing a tub with you for the very first time

╰┈─➤ Week Three:

‧₊˚ October 19th ; Wriothesley .𖥔 ݁ ˖

hatefucking, degradation, facials

content: wriothesley punishes you for your crimes in his own way, fucking through cell bars, he covers your mouth too...insisting you keep quiet... sighs dreamily

‧₊˚ October 22nd ; Angel Devil .𖥔 ݁ ˖

omorashi, degradation, ruined orgasm

content: reader pushes angel a little too much (quite literally) and he makes a bit of a mess in his work pants

‧₊˚ October 25th ; Sigma .𖥔 ݁ ˖

denial, mommy kink

content: "just the tip" trope, needy!sigma, lots of teasing (sigma receiving)

╰┈─➤ Week Four:

‧₊˚ October 28th ; Geto Suguru & Kenjaku .𖥔 ݁ ˖

Corruption Kink, Anal, Choking

content: kenjaku fucks you using geto’s body and you can’t resist— he was your beloved after all

‧₊˚ October 31st ; Jouno Saigiku .𖥔 ݁ ˖

phone sex, mutual masturbation, blackmail

content: when a not-so-stranger calls, and jouno answers… getting himself into a whole world of trouble. serial killer!reader, blackmail and coercion, dubious consent.

#bungou stray dogs smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #bsd smut #noragami smut #kkss smut #kekkai sensen smut #csm smut #chainsaw man smut #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #kinktober #iovetecchou's kinktober masterlist #anime kinktober #kinktober anime #smut #opm smut #one punch man smut

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winterdaphne2 · 3 months ago

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Gay Easter Eggs in BBC Sherlock

(I trust the above requires no explanation.)

Perhaps someone has done this before, but I wanted to put together a compilation of gay easter eggs in the show that I’ve seen other people point out and/or have thoughts on myself. So here it is!

When I say “easter eggs,” I’m thinking of small clues that the show creators included in the set designs, music choices, and other details of the show to reference that Sherlock and John are in love. I’m thinking of things you could miss at first, especially little clues that often require a bit of extra information or require observations across episodes to understand.

Of course, there’s also lots of subtext woven into the show, moments where interpreting the dialogue or visuals in a certain way tells us something about Sherlock, John, and/or the state of their feelings for one another. I’m not sure if I can clearly define “subtext” versus “easter eggs” and explain what distinguishes them, but at least to me, several of the things I’ve listed here seem a bit different from what people often refer to as subtext. Maybe subtext is about uncovering the layers to a piece of dialogue or an action that takes place in plain sight and seeing how that impacts our interpretation of the story, but easter eggs are about spotting smaller, hidden details. I’m not trained in literary or film studies, though, and I’m not trying to be doctrinaire about this at all! This list is just for fun, anyway. (The above image might not actually count as an easter egg, but I couldn’t resist including it here. Indulge me.)

The more I read about this show and the harder I look, the more I think that hardly anything is there on accident. All these easter eggs must have been included on purpose. The creators knew they were telling a love story all along.

I’ve linked to the posts where I initially saw people point these out or to other good sources, and for some of these I’ve added my own commentary/observations/interpretations. I’m sure there are many other easter eggs that I’ve missed! What have you spotted?

John’s PIN in TBB – When John tries to pay for his groceries at the beginning of the episode, we see that his PIN is 743. In ASIB, Irene’s code to unlock her phone is SHER, which would be 7437 on a phone keypad. So, John’s PIN is a clue that he is or will be in love with Sherlock. Source: @loudest-subtext-in-tv, here.

Shaftesbury Avenue, 20m from Piccadilly Circus in TBB – While investigating in Chinatown, Sherlock and John bump into each other at what used to be a cruising spot for gay men in London. Source: @the-signs-of-two, here.

Archer the American in ASIB – In the scene where the American CIA agents try to get Sherlock to open Irene’s safe, the head CIA agent pressures Sherlock by threatening to have one of his men shoot John. The agent says: “Mr. Archer, on the count of three, shoot Dr. Watson.” Ordering someone named “Archer” to shoot John could be a reference to Arthur Conan Doyle’s poem “The Blind Archer,” which is about Cupid and describes Cupid shooting two men who sound an awful lot like Sherlock and John. Source: couldntpossiblycomment, here.

“¿Dónde Estás, Yolanda?” in TEH – The song that plays during the scene with John and Sherlock’s disastrous reunion at the Landmark restaurant is a cover of the song “¿Dónde Estás, Yolanda?” performed by the band Pink Martini. The Spanish lyrics to this song are about searching for a long-lost lover, which is fitting for the scene where John sees Sherlock again for the first time since his fall. Notably, the creators didn’t use the first of the two versions of this song that Pink Martini has released. The band’s first version appears on their 1997 studio album Sympathique and features a man singing about a woman. Instead of using that version, the creators used the version from Pink Martini’s 2011 compilation album A Retrospective, in which China Forbes performs most of the vocals. So, the creators deliberately chose a remade version of the song in which a woman sings about a woman. They chose a gay song about searching for a long-lost lover for Sherlock and John’s reunion. abrae (@tea-and-liminality on tumblr) has a meta with more to say about the use of this song here.

John’s “oscillation on the pavement” in TEH – In TSOT, John observes a potential client standing outside 221B and trying to make up her mind as to whether to come in. Sherlock tells John “I’ve seen those symptoms before. Oscillation on the pavement always means there’s a love affair.” In the previous episode, John came to visit Sherlock at 221B but hesitated on the pavement outside, staring at the door and trying to decide whether to go in. Sherlock’s comment, “I’ve seen those symptoms before,” is a hint that we, the audience, have also seen those symptoms before—with John in the previous episode. Source: @bidoctor, here. (I saw someone else point out that last part about Sherlock’s hint to the audience, but I can’t find that post, sorry!)

Lilac dresses in TSOT – While planning John and Mary’s wedding, Sherlock chooses lilac-colored dresses for the bridesmaids. When John tells Sherlock that he likes the bridesmaids in purple, Sherlock pointedly corrects him by stating that the dresses are lilac. Apparently, “In Victorian times, giving a lilac meant that the giver is trying to remind the receiver of a first love.” So by dressing the bridesmaids in lilac, Sherlock is trying to remind John of his first love: himself, Sherlock. My heart breaks. Source: @asherlockstudy, here.

Putting the horns on Mary and Janine in TSOT and HLV – In TSOT, there’s a shot where Mary gives Sherlock and John a thumbs up before they head out on a case. The way Mary is standing, the horns on Sherlock’s cow skull thing on the wall behind her are placed right over her head. (I always thought this shot looked pretty weird, but now I see that it must have been intentional!) In the HLV scene with Janine at 221B, there’s a moment when Janine steps in front of John in the frame to kiss Sherlock, and her movement positions the horns right over her head. “Putting the horns” on someone means cheating on them. So in both cases, placing the horns right above Mary’s and Janine’s heads indicates to the audience that Sherlock and John are the real relationship in this show. Source: this post from multiple users on the @sherlockmeta blog.

The architecture of Sherlock’s mind palace in HLV – In the mind palace scene after Mary shoots Sherlock, the architecture of Sherlock’s mind palace is based on locations from ASIP. Sherlock literally built his mind palace out of places from his first case with John, illustrating that his relationship with John is what grounds him and that it means everything to him. abrae has some very helpful screencaps of this here (and I would recommend that whole meta, btw!)

The glasshouse scene in TAB – In TAB, the Victorian John tries to ask Sherlock about his sexuality and sexual history while they’re sitting in a glasshouse. In Victorian Britain, “glasshouse” was another term for a military prison. So John, a military veteran, asks Sherlock about his sexuality in a setting that represents where he would have been sent if he had acted upon his homosexual desires at a time when homosexuality was criminalized. Source: @haffieliesel, here.

What do we say about coincidences? The universe is rarely so lazy.

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fillinforlater · 2 years ago

Text

New Lyrics

Male Reader x Chu Sojung (Exy)

Length: 2170 words

Tags: angry sex, body writing, mutual pinning to walls and chairs, hard sex, riding, cursing, fishnets, fishnet stockings kink, standing sex, creampie, lyrics on your body, lyrics might hit a bit hard to home, idol!Exy /producer!you

Inspiration: the ideas and pictures/gifs send by @friskyriskywhisky

Credit: @friskyriskywhisky for giving the winning requests!

(A/N: I chose this fic as the winner. Reason? Uhm, I liked it a tad bit more, the flow of words was very easy and fuck, I might have a thing for fishnets/stockings in general. Enjoy Exy!)

“Fuck, we’re out of paper.”

Exy crumbles up the final sheet filled with hollow, unfulfilling words and throws it in the corner of the recording booth. She spits out the cap of the marker, which turns out to be a dumb little mistake. As she goes to pick it up from the dark blue carpet, she doesn’t notice the awkward position of her marker. A dark line forms in one of the openings in her fishnet stockings.

“Watch out,” you laugh at her when she notices. “It won’t come off easily. Or did you want to play tic-tac-toe with me?”

Exy rolls her eyes and licks the tip of her thumb. She rubs the marked spot while groaning in frustration. This recording session has gone nowhere, hell, it hasn’t even started because her text is still bullshit words in a bullshit structure with bullshit rhymes. That’s how she said it, not you, but you tend to agree, it is not a good text.

“You can just type on your phone, you know?” you say into the silence, the booth drowning out any echo.

“I fucking know, but it’s just,” Exy groans again. The marker is still resisting her attempts at cleaning. “It just feels wrong. The lyrics feel like ass on a phone screen. They look dishonest, powerless, and smell like the rotting body of the CEO.”

“Exy,” you sigh and rub the bridge of your nose. “Get your act together. You’re not a child. If you need more paper to figure this out then go get some. I’m literally just here for the recording.”

“Only the recording? I thought we were gonna do something afterwards?”

Exy raises an eyebrow. She swipes away the free-swinging microphone in a dismissive gesture and glares at you. Tension rises, but you are uncertain if Exy feels the sexual part of it as strong as you do. Judging from the way she crosses her fishnet-covered legs over one another and adjusts her short pencil skirt, she is either very casual about it or tries to seduce you.

But the way Exy then grabs your wrist, you suddenly doubt that you will get lucky tonight. Maybe this is bothering her more than you thought. Maybe the poor lyrics dictated by her company have finally gotten to her. Maybe she is sick and tired of having to save her parts all the time. After all, it’s still business.

You expect her to pull you up and throw you out into the hallway, however she is pulling something else up: the sleeve of your hoodie. Your bare, entirely clean arm comes to light, just to be met and stained by the black tip of Exy’s marker. Letters quickly taint your skin, from elbow to wrist.

“Nah, fuck that,” you shout and free yourself from her grip. “I’m not your paper. Wait, what the hell is this? You can’t even use this! It’s like only curse words.”

“Yes.”

“Are you crazy? This won’t come off in—fuck, Exy, stop!”

Exy pins you to the back of your chair and continues to scribble. This time, she uses your forehead and cheeks to spread angry syllables. She is surprisingly strong and continues to keep you down long enough for you to be marked by her marker. She forces your head side to side to read the new lyrics, until you’re finally able to break free.

Grab her hips and hammer into the wall. The entire room shakes at the impact and Exy winces. She drops the maker and you quickly pick it up. It might be a childish thing to do, but you are eager to return the favor and paint her face with black curses as well.

“Fuck, asshole!” Exy shouts and stamps on your foot. “Stop it, now!”

“I don’t even think about it,” you growl and firmly hold her beautiful face steady. “Go on, spout your nonsense lyrics so you can read them in the mirror later.”

“Fuck, I hate you!” Exy punches your sides. “I want this to end / our love is nothing but a mess / We have fun at night, but during the day we fight / With all of my might I try to find you ag—

“Why did you stop?”

“I—I,” you stutter, looking at Exy’s fierce eyes that pierce through your mind. “I was just puzzled—ouch, what the—”

Exy gives you a painful punch right above your hips. The jabs she gave before were nothing compared to this, hell, it might even leave you bruised. Exy gets a hold of the marker and continues her artistic outburst on your other arm.

“Those are the lyrics, you moron. Gosh, you should just shut up and be a piece of paper. I try to find you again / but you’re not the same / you’re lame and all my thoughts are in vain.”

The two of you engage in another struggle. This time the fight is more playful, no rough punches, no throwing into the wall. It’s certainly no coincidence that Exy’s blue jacket slides down her slender shoulders to reveal her white crop top with nice, firm melons beneath it. More importantly, she also shows more of her paper-like skin now.

You easily take the marker from her fingers and place it on her exposed biceps. Exy grabs the hem of your hoodie and pulls you right to her face. Her lips are right there, ready to be parted with your tongue, but she denies you the kiss. Instead she moans the lyrics right into your face.

“I just want you back and all the fun we had / Get me out of the dark, the black in my head and throw me—fuck, just write!”

“There is no more space on your arm!”

“Then go further down!” Exy groans and presses herself onto you. You feel her abs flex the same way they do when you fuck her in your bed. Push her back a little and put the tip of the marker on them to write Exy’s euphoric moans.

“Throw me on the bed / Use your tongue, use your hands / don’t give me a chance, make me cum.

“Fuck me right her, right now, fuck!”

Exy’s shaking hands pull up the hem of her pencil skirt. Between her panties and your face are mere inches—and of course her fucking fishnet stockings. The way this tight-knit net wraps around her full thighs always makes your head spin. Exy knows, hence why she is wearing them quite often around you.

Today, you won’t wait until she pulls them down at home. Your fingers entwine with the fabric and you tear a large irregular hole right at Exy’s crotch. The young woman is eager to pull aside her panties to show you how dripping wet she is. You are eager to get rid of your pants to show her how rigid she makes you.

“What are you waiting for?” she says, sultry, spit dripping from her lips.

From one confinement to the other. The inside of cotton boxers is traded for the slick insides of Exy’s pussy. The two of you groan in unison as you inch deeper and deeper. Exy stabilizes herself with arms firmly wrapped around your nape, while you reach for her thighs to find a better position to thrust. She is clearly not amused, her patience thinner than a sheet of paper.

“Can you fucking start alr—oh my God!”

Exy’s mouth is agape, the remainder of her sentence stuck in the back of her throat as you begin to thrust hard. You stare at her face, the black letters and words spread all over it. The lyrics tell the story of a woman desperate for her lover. She wants to be pleased, she begs for it, although the guy is an egocentric asshole.

Maybe you are the asshole for her. At least you will now.

“Shut up, Exy!” you shout right at her, fingers firmly digging into flesh and fishnets. “You better save your voice for that fucking rap. I don’t want my skin to be wasted for nothing.”

“Ts,” Exy manages to hiss as you move your thrust upwards to make your cockhead reach the hottest depths of her tight cavern. “S-stop complaining, you got your revenge. Just, fuck, look at me!”

Exy flaunts her scrawled arms and shoulder to make her point, but you reject it by latching onto her collarbone with your lips. A strong waft of her cherry scent, mixed with the strong alcoholic smell of the marker makes for a weird sensation as you leave a hickey on her.

“Fuck, people might see it,” Exy whines in between her moans.

“Good, I hope everyone sees it.”

You reach for her butt and give it a firm smack before picking her up. Spin around and pin her against the next wall to continue your hard fucking—at least that was your plan. However, Exy takes a moment of your brief inattention and pushes you back onto your chair.

Her pussy lips still wrapped around you, she doesn’t wait another second to pounce on you. You know her riding is always intense, but today she is absolutely merciless. Her fingers dig into your shoulder, her teeth bite your lip, her hips fuck you numb.

You feel your legs begin to tremble, rubbing against the continuously tearing fishnets. Wet sounds and loud moans come from both sets of Exy’s lips as she is fucking herself senseless as well. She has become a beast, unable to control her lust. She will take you down, but she is bound to fall as well.

“Fuck, fuck, Exy, I can’t—”

“Cum, cum already! You fucking ass—ah!”

Thank God the room is soundproof or else the entire building would know of Exy’s violent orgasm. Wails at first, then waves of girl juice that run down your twitching cock. Warm, wet, tight—Exy’s pussy is as perfect as ever. Thank God again that you can blast your cum into it. Your entire body twitches and accidentally pumps all the white batter up into her.

“We’re not finished!” Exy groans. She tries to adjust herself in a more comfortable position, maybe with you on the ground, but this time you catch her sleeping. With one arm hooked under her knee, you make her stand upright, far enough away from every wall, one leg high in the air. Exy’s flexibility is taken to her limits, but even though she groans in pain, you won’t relent. The only thing that keeps her stable on her one, swaying leg is you.

“You’re fucking right.”

You groan through the initial pain of using your spent cock to pierce Exy open again. With her, a second round is always worth it, no matter the cost or heart-stopping overstimulation. She deserves the hard thrusts deep into her wet core, while you deserve to feel the entirety of her fishnet covered leg.

“Shit, fuck, fuck,” Exy whimpers into your face before you press a peck on her cheek, right at one of the many obscene words on her skin. Her hands move to zip open her skirt to give her more leg room for the artistic position. You on the other hand opt for more drastic measures: ripping more holes into the dark web.

Wet skin continues to hit wet skin, even as you decrease the pace a little to make each thrust harder and more precise. Exy giggles when you miss her g-spot and screams in ecstasy when you hit it perfectly. It’s like a game for her, where she can only win, either by seeing the disappointment in your dirty face or by feeling sparks of pleasure fill her breeding hole.

You hate this kind of game. You just want her to crumble, to succumb to another orgasm on your dick and milk you completely dry. Each minute you spend inside her and not on recording the rap part could lead to awkward questions by the higher ups. Reality is often disappointing, but you won’t go without a bang.

Drop Exy’s leg and instead get a hold of her long hair.

“Exy, you will fucking cum now!”

“What—oh, fuc—ah!”

All your remaining energy is bundled into a final assault on Exy’s cunt. Your cock is a piston on fire, rapidly leaving and penetrating the soft flesh at the right spot. You know Exy too well, she can’t play this stupid game forever. She grits her teeth, but her eyes already roll to the back of her head.

“Cum.

“Cum, Exy, you horny bitch!”

Once again, wet juices all over your base and thighs. The warmth from inside her is spread all over you, so it’s time to give her a good filling. To your massive first load, you add another impressive surge of cum. You pull yourself out, but before all of the white stuff can stain the carpet floor of the booth, you catch it with your hand.

“Ah, fuck. You got a paper towel or something?” you laugh and Exy’s playfully smacks your cheek.

“Get lost, asshole.”

(A/N2: omo, these have really set me ablaze fr)

#kpop smut #female idol smut #male reader smut #male reader #girl group smut #exy smut #wjsn smut

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marthawrites · 1 year ago

Note

Would absolutely love Daemon + number 20 of the location-based smut prompts. Congrats on your followers, sweet Martha! Very well deserved. 💜

Hello secret anon (who isn't so secret hehehehe🤭) Thank you so much! This was a first AND a challenge. I hope I did your request justice!

A Day in the Life

Modern Daemon Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 2.4k+

Location based smut prompts here with #20 being: while one muse drives, they describe what they want to do to the passenger who isn’t allowed to touch themselves.

Includes: Established relationship (Daemon and reader live together, nothing else is specified), slice of life, dry humping, dirty talk, daddy kink, implied impact play, implied roughness, implied vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is my first time writing modern Daemon as well as this type of scenario. I hope you like this naughty little slice of life with our rogue prince. As always, reader is nondescript ♥ Please, enjoy!

Dawn's shades of pink and orange filtered into the room through lazily drawn curtains. The play of softening shadows and whispering colors sent all of Daemon Targaryen’s features ablaze. Through your sleepy eyes he looked otherworldly. He hadn’t yet stirred awake, and it was the peacefulness of his body that drew you to him. What a shame to wake a slumbering dragon… but perhaps if you were gentle and quiet he might stay asleep.

Might.

While laying on your side, and beneath the covers, you delicately slung a leg over his waist. Carefully balancing your weight on your knees, your hands splayed over his bare chest as you leaned down to brush the tip of your nose against his. You kissed him. More of a graze of your mouth against his than anything else. Smirking to yourself at the feeling of his morning stiff cock beneath your center, you bit into the swell of his bottom lip.

No, you didn’t want to be gentle. You wanted him up and eager like you were. “I know you’re awake,” you whispered on his cheek before kissing along his jaw.

A rumble sounded somewhere deep in his chest. A groan, a laugh, you weren’t entirely sure, but its reverberation vibrated beneath your hands. “I am now, you little devil,” he said in a voice thick with sleep.

Music to your ears. "As soon as my eyes opened I saw you. And you know I can't resist you," you said. You flexed your thighs around Daemon’s middle and he sighed contentedly. He only wore sleep bottoms, and you only wore one of his shirts with your underwear beneath. Very little stood in the way of your bodies joining together. It'd be easy. So easy. A tug of his waistband, and a slide of your underwear, and you could be sinking down on each of his glorious inches until he met your body’s end. Your hips shimmied, slowly, on their own accord.

"Are you already wet, princess? Barely awake and already soaking for my cock…," he tsked as if hot blood didn't rush to the entirety of his manhood.

A second smirk played on your lips. Your fingers pushed through his short hair – a fresh cut – and you tugged. Lightly. "You only call me princess when I'm sucking you off or riding you into oblivion."

"You're grinding that wet little pussy all over me. I bet there's a damp spot on my pants right now." His hands squeezed your hips and he gladly guided you along. The lovely hue of his eyes locked on you – a shark smelling blood – and he swelled even harder beneath you.

While you were hoping for a little fun this morning, you weren't quite expecting this. You ached. The low muscles of your belly quivered in anticipation as he moved you to a rhythm he liked.

"Yeah… yeah, just like that. Grind that needy clit all over my cock," he whispered hotly. Just when breath started coming quicker to both of you, need turning into nothing short of primal lust, your phone on the headboard started ringing.

"You gotta be joking," you whined exasperatedly. Answering, it was one of your coworkers. Your eyes widened as she talked; whole mood shifting. "Oh shit–! Okay. Yeah, yeah. No, I completely spaced it. I'm so sorry. Be there asap."

"You truly are a devil for waking me up like this only to run away." A shadow of something darker flickered across his features. Yet, somehow, an air of arrogance and sarcasm managed to remain in the forefront of his expression.

"Desmond Manderly’s daughter needs her cake today. I could have sworn it was for tomorrow! I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you later, I promise," you said as you quickly rolled from atop him and began to get ready for the early, and long, day at the bakery.

Daemon did laugh at that. "Shrewd man. Hope you aren't too distracted today, kitten, otherwise you'll have some serious answering to do. Everything better be perfect for his little girl." The panic on your face was much too entertaining for him.

"Oh, God," you groaned. "I know! I'll see you later!" You kissed him goodbye with such chaste it made his cock ache all over again; how could someone be so quick and innocent with their affection after just grinding and teasing him to full attention? With the full intention of fucking him absolutely silly?

A succubus. Undoubtedly.

Between the cakes, frosting, fondant, and sugar decorations, there were three of you working on the Manderly girl's order. All of you had culinary school under your belts as well as dozens – maybe hundreds – of cake orders completed together. This was just another one. Nothing to get too worked up about. That's what you kept telling yourself, anyway.

It didn't help that your mind was elsewhere all morning. You had half a mind to lock yourself in the bathroom and rub one or two out to release some of the pent up tension you had in your body. It wouldn't be the same, though, and you knew that.

You wanted Daemon.

Fuck. You wanted him so bad.

A natural break happened between the timing of everything, and you actually were able to slip away into the bathroom for a few minutes without feeling guilty. You snapped a couple selfies to send him. Innocent. At first. It didn't take long, however, for your photos to grow more and more lewd with each press of the capture button. The final round of photos – the filthiest you dared to be in a bathroom at work – you sent with the message:

miss you, daddy

You hung out as long as you could before having to return. Daemon never sent anything back. In fact, it looked like he hadn't even read them yet. He must be busy, you thought, before exiting to return to the job at hand.

Enough time passed that the cakes were cooled enough to begin the decorating process before your phone dinged with a text message. You tried very hard to ignore it and continue working away, but as it went off a second time, and a third, all self-control flew out the window. “Be right back,” you said to one of your fellow bakers before stepping away from them to read your texts.

Judging by the timing and angle of the photos he sent back, he must have been in a meeting with his elder brother, Viserys, and other important people to the Targaryen business. His family was messy and you tried your best to stay out of the drama. The photo was taken with his right hand, and the angle captured his black slack covered thighs beneath the table, as well as his left hand atop the table. It was such an easy photo. Nothing, really, to someone who didn’t know your relationship. An accidental photo, perhaps. But, no. You knew Daemon all too well to know it was deliberate. You clenched. His message read:

Is Manderly’s cake suffering imperfections?

A blush instantly bloomed beneath your face. When you took a second look at the photo, you noticed the font of his pants were visibly tighter than what you could imagine was comfortable; the blush spread up to your ears. The rest of this fucking cake was going to be unbearable to make. You replied, with the eye emoji:

can't promise anything now

When you returned to the kitchen the other girls immediately knew something was up. The combination of your blush, twinkle in your eye, and restrained little smile did all the talking you wouldn’t. “Daemon is just being silly,” you told them. “He knows we can’t mess up on this and he’s being a horrible tease. I think he’s going to need the spanking tonight.” Giggles erupted and, surprisingly, the rest of the time didn’t go by as bad as you thought it might.

Finally, in the early afternoon hours, the cake was finished and you all breathed a huge sigh of relief. Not a single line was out of place. It could have been a professional photoshopped photograph!

Upon stepping outside you were greeted by the most wonderful surprise. There, parked on the side of the road waiting for you, was Daemon in his red Aston Martin DBS Superleggera. Of all his vehicles it was his favorite. And it was your favorite, too. His best car for his best girl. “If I knew you were picking me up I’d have at least freshened up before coming out,” you said, laughing, as he rolled the window down. Thankfully you took your apron off at the very least! But there were still traces of flour, frosting, and whatever else on places the apron didn’t cover.

There was a sly glimmer behind his eyes. “Get it, sugar, we’ll pick your car up later” he said with a tilt of his head.

Happily obliging, you got in and closed the door. He rolled the windows up before merging onto the road. Grinning, he seemed unbothered by the fact you switched the music from his to your favorite instead. “Did you like what I sent you earlier?” You asked sweetly.

A laugh rumbled in Daemon’s throat as his eyes slid from the road to you, lingering. “Very much so. What were you thinking about when you took them?” Much as he wanted to look at you, and only you, he had to pay attention to the road, also.

It was such a small, strange thing, something your friends didn’t quite understand, but… you loved, absolutely loved, the way Daemon looked driving. Especially his Superleggera. There was something about the set of his face when he concentrated, and something about the sharp focus of his eyes when his foot sank on the gas pedal – powerful engine roaring and rumbling – that made you want to open the front of his pants and take him in your throat. “Was thinking about you, of course,” you answered with dreamy eyes. Fuck he was so handsome. “I thought about making myself cum right there in the bathroom…,” you admitted, coy. “But I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Only you’re enough, daddy.”

“The first photo was my favorite. You’re so fucking cute when you look all innocent like that. Especially when I know how quickly you turn into a little slut. Fucking yourself in the bathroom? Even that is low for someone who woke up as needy as you did this morning,” he said, voice morphing into the tone that made you weak in the knees.

Blood blossomed behind your face. “Don’t act like you didn’t like it… the one you sent back made it very obvious. God. It made me want you even more.”

“My lap? Or cock?” He asked with a slow arch of brow.

“Both.”

“Perhaps I’ll bend you over my knee for distracting me like you did. I had to leave the meeting early. Viserys was livid.”

You stared at his hands on the steering wheel and squeezed your thighs together. Wide palms, fingers decorated with rings, skin rough and smooth alike. Your boundaries were always respected. Even moreso when you were over his lap receiving whatever punishment he deemed necessary. “Daemon…,” you whined, leaning further into his space. “Don’t tease me like that.” You rubbed one of your hands along the inside of his thigh, feeling over the front of his pants and the bulge which began to swell there.

He pushed your hand away. “Did I say you could touch me?” He asked, smirking despite the scolding.

You pulled back with a shake of your head. “No. But I want to.”

“And I want to stuff that pussy until your eyes roll back. But you don’t see me trying it right now, do you?”

Again, you shook your head, but this time you giggled, too.

“I bet you’ve been wet all day. I can’t believe you didn’t fuck yourself silly in that bathroom. Mmm…,” he paused, chuckling. “The next meeting, tomorrow, won’t be in person. Only online. You’ll stay home with me and I’ll find a good use for you. It’ll be dreadful anyway. I’ll need the distraction. And what better way than you? My pretty little princess slobbering all over my cock.”

That pet name always triggered something in you. “What about a distraction now?” You asked as you angled your body towards him, legs spreading apart, as you began to unbutton and unzip your pants, ready to tug them past your hips in an instant.

“While I’m driving? You naughty thing. If I won’t have you touch me, why the hell would I allow you to touch yourself?”

A part of you wanted to tease and touch yourself regardless of what he said... if only to see how angry he might get, and what he might do to you afterwards. Another day, perhaps, because for now all you could think about was how you left him this morning.

“I saw you think about it… good girl, baby, for not pulling those pants down. Here I was, too, thinking about all the ways I might bend you over my lap and smack your ass until its red from all the shit you've pulled today. You only call me ‘daddy’ when you want to get fucked brainless. And you've been moaning it all day."

Daemon's voice dripped down your spine like liquid fire and pooled in your core, quivering with the need to be taken by him. To be claimed, marked, and filled by his seed. "Oh my God… please. Yes, yes, yes. Please," you begged.

"Fuck, I'm so hard thinking about your ass pounding against me while I take you from behind. You like that best, I know you do. My hand tugging your hair… pulling it… squeezing your hip, scratching your back… you make the prettiest sounds." His voice graveled with restraint. Each word seemed heavier than the last. He flickered his attention to you and smirked, eyes dark. "You turn into my perfect slut. Cock hungry and fucking soaked, just like you should always be for me."

You actually moaned. "Get me home right now and fuck me before the door is locked," you said, mirroring him.

Small as your moan was, it went right to Daemon's uncomfortably constricted length and throbbed. He sped down the final stretch home, not needing to be told twice.

He was true to everything he said and more. You finally got to ride him, too, before taking a very long, very hot, and very distracted shower. Together.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @dreamsofoldvalyria @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess

Daemon taglist: @sahvlren @vhagar-burns-for-him@boofy1998

#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #modern daemon #daemon x reader #daemon smut #daemon fic #request

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thereceptioniststyles · 9 months ago

Text

Thin Ice

The remainder of the week dragged on at a torturous pace, each moment an agonizing eternity. I sat there, feigning indifference to Harry's kiss with Grace, but inside, I was seething. Every attempt to appear aloof and desirable was a facade crumbling under the weight of my madness. Finally, Friday crawled its way into view, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Weekends were my sanctuary, a respite from the torment of Harry's wandering eyes and suffocating presence. In the safety of my apartment, with only my cat for company, I could finally exhale.

December arrived, cloaking the world in a blanket of snow. The journey from my car to work became a treacherous dance on slippery ice, each step a battle to maintain balance and not fall to the ground. With every breath, I exhaled clouds of mist, each one a reminder of the bitter chill that permeated the air, mirroring the frostiness in my heart.

Lost in my thoughts, I trudged along the sidewalk, oblivious to the approaching figure until their touch jolted me from the depths of my mind, sending me crashing to the icy ground below.

"Oh, Ayla, love, I'm so sorry," Harry's voice pierced through the haze as I struggled to regain my composure.

Wincing, I attempted to pick myself up, but my limbs flailed uselessly until Harry extended his hand, pulling me to my feet. Though I was tempted to drag him down with me in my embarrassment, I refrained, my pride wounded enough.

"It's fine, Harry," I muttered through gritted teeth, my words as sharp and cold as the winter air. That enveloped

Standing before me, Harry's hands rested on my shoulders, his gaze scrutinizing as he pressed a light kiss to my forehead.

"You're a champ," he declared, his concern seemingly genuine.

"What do you want?" I snapped, the frustration boiling within me. I had strived for elegance and grace, yet here I was, sprawled on the ground like a clumsy fool.

"Just wanted to catch you before we tackle the day at work," Harry replied, his tone light.

"Why's Grace coming in later?" I inquired, unable to mask the bitterness in my voice.

Harry chuckled, his amusement grating on my nerves. "She left my place last night. Just a quick visit."

My blood simmered beneath my skin, ready to erupt.

"You know, Harry, being with you is like being in a damn car crash," I spat, my words laced with venom. "One moment, everything's smooth sailing, and the next, I'm slammed with the impact."

Harry stood there, stunned by my outburst, yet offering no resistance as I unleashed my pent-up emotions.

"Keep going," he encouraged, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

"Why would you kiss me if you're just going to mess around with someone else?" I demanded, gesturing angrily between us. Tears threatened to spill over, betraying the storm raging inside me.

"I can't control what you think, Ayla," Harry retorted, his words slicing through me like shards of ice. "It was just a kiss. Grace is just a distraction. You have a talent for blowing things out of proportion. Grow up. No man wants a woman who acts like a child."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me to stew in a whirlwind of emotions. His scent lingered in the air, a bitter reminder of what could never be. I knew I couldn't face another day at work, trapped in his presence for eight agonizing hours. Today, I would break.

I grabbed my phone and fired off a quick text to Callie, concocting a story about a fall on the way to work and a trip to urgent care. It was a lie, of course. I had no intention of subjecting myself to the sterile, fluorescent-lit halls of the local clinic. No, my plan involved retreating to the sanctuary of my bed, cocooned in blankets, nursing wounds that were more emotional than physical. At least there, in the warmth of my covers, I could hide from the world.

As I trudged back to my car, frustration bubbled within me, threatening to boil over. With a primal scream, I unleashed my pent-up anger, pounding my fists against the unyielding metal of the steering wheel. Angry at myself for allowing things to reach this point, furious at Harry for his obliviousness to my worth, and seething at the universe for its cruel twists of fate.

The short drive back to my apartment was a blur of rage and resentment. I parked with a forceful slam, the sound reverberating through the quiet street. If I was going to be consumed by fury, then the whole world would bear witness to my wrath.

But even before I reached the elevator, my phone buzzed insistently in my pocket, interrupting my storm of emotions. With a sense of grim inevitability, I glanced at the screen. "Baby," read the text, a sickeningly sweet endearment that now tasted bitter on my tongue.

Part of me longed to turn the car around, to storm back into that office and unleash hell upon Harry. I wanted to shatter his complacency, to show him that I was not to be trifled with, that beneath my disguise of poise lay a warrior waiting to be unleashed.

But I hesitated. Instead of succumbing to the urge to confront him head-on, I made a different choice. A calculated one. If Harry wanted to play games, then I would play along. I would give him a taste of his own medicine, a bitter pill to swallow. And perhaps, in the twisted dance of our relationship, I would find some semblance of control amidst the chaos.

My fingers hovered over the screen, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within me. I could feel the weight of Harry's words pressing down on me, his insidious manipulation threatening to drown me in a sea of doubt and desire.

With a trembling hand, I composed a response, each keystroke a battle against the tumult raging within me.

"I bet you like playing these games," I sent, my words a thinly veiled challenge, a gauntlet thrown down in the twisted dance of our relationship.

Seconds stretched into eternity as I awaited his reply, my heart pounding in my chest like a drumbeat of anticipation.

And then, there it was, his response illuminating the screen like a damning confession.

"I do."

The simplicity of his admission sent a chill down my spine, a stark reminder of the depths of his depravity.

But before I could formulate a reply, another message from Harry invaded my screen, each word dripping with poison.

"I like it. Almost as much as you liked when I kissed your forehead. I bet you wished it was your lips."

His words cut through me like a knife, slicing through the facade of indifference I had so carefully constructed.

I was stunned into silence, the weight of his implications crushing me beneath their unbearable weight.

"If you come over tonight I can show you what it feels like, in case you forgot."

His audacity left me reeling, my mind unable to comprehend the depths of his depravity.

Harry was sick, twisted, a puppet master pulling the strings of my emotions with callous disregard for the damage he wrought.

He knew the power he held over me, the way his words could unravel me with a single utterance.

And worst of all, he was right.

As much as I despised him, loathed the hold he had over me, a part of me yearned to succumb to his sick little mind games, to lose myself in the chaos of his embrace.

He knew all too well how to push my buttons, how to exploit my weaknesses for his own twisted pleasure.

And in that moment of painful clarity, I realized just how deep I had fallen into his web of deceit.

I was trapped, ensnared in his toxic embrace, unable to break free from the chains he had forged around my heart.

With a heavy heart and a trembling hand, I resigned myself to the inevitable, knowing that no matter how hard I fought, Harry would always be one step ahead, a puppet master pulling the strings of my shattered heart.

All Parts

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gale-gentlepenguin · 1 year ago

Text

Gale Reviews: Miraculous World Paris: Tales of Shadybug and Claw Noir

Spoilers below

-OH S*** NEW THEME SONG AND WHY DOES IT KIND OF SLAP

(The image of Gabriel's life. Damn)

-Gabriel is a good guy and working with his version of the Resistance. DAMN

-NINO! RUN BABY BOY RUN

-Kamiko? so that is the good version of akuma?!

-Ubiquity is the Kamiko's name. Okay neat

-BETTERFLY! THAT GOOD!HAWKMOTH'S NAME. IM DEAD

-And the villains just arrived

-Damn this is going hard.

-Love the Miraculous world intro

-And back to our world

-Okay so this is taking place AFTER destruction, since the miraculous are not rings yet

-Gabriel almost went into his son's room. almost. Adrien processing a long day (likely the fact that he CATACLYSMED SOMEONE) This would make for a good au later

-Could we be getting ADRIEN CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT! -Adrien having legit concerns over his power that actually makes sense? Good to see

-Plagg doing his best to help Adrien cope.

-Alyanette is good as usual

-tikki no!

-Cute little Tom Sabine moment. (LUCKY TOM)

-Alya's in pain (cause of the oh no)

-Seriously this all happened in the span of one night!

-Betterfly arrives,

-Also, seems the Kamiko in this case can impact MULTIPLE version. At least in alya's case

-That costume is dope

-Betterfly not knowing in this world HE'S the asshole

-Also Betterfly's design isnt bad. I accept it. Still weird cause its gabe tho

-THEY KILLED MAX? WAIT IS MAX THE AI. I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS

-OH NO CLAW NOIR AND SHADYBUG SLAY

-Nice to know Alynino is canon in that verse

-Shadyclaw arguements.

-Shadybug hates Adrien in this world

-Clawnoir loves being destructive, a nice contrast to adrien's current dilemma

-Alya covering for marinette like always

-Oh right, her phone is broken

-Smart move

-GASP THE LUCKY CHARMS ARENT ALL WEAPONS!

-Shadybug and Clawnoir should make out (the tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife) they are constantly arguing and its great

-CATACLYSM CAN GET BIG!!! OH F*** THATS SO COOL! (Adrien/Chat noir be holding back by a f*** ton)

-Tikki just sitting on this knowledge. BILLIONS OF UNIVERSE. (welp that is only half the amount of au's and what ifs I made lol)

-Tikki demonstrating what its like being a nigh omnipotent deity. (this is the first time outside of seeing their true forms did I feel this)

-The Supreme? Wait, the logos at the begining. Does that mean? the order of guardians is actually evil? Or is it like an Evil Fu?!

-Wait, so it isnt just an adult thing, if you are evil you can multi-use the miraculous but at a cost. SEE THIS RIGHT HERE WOULD HAVE BEEN A BETTER SYSTEM THAN THE ADULT THING! WTF?!

-So Shadybug and Claw noir ARENT the big bads they are just... lackeys? That is kind of lame, but if they are going to get redeemed it does make sense

-Ladybug out here being funny

-Claw noir got numb-chucks

-SHE SUMMONED A CAR AND KICKED IT AT THEM!

-CHAT NOIR FOR THE SAVE!!!!

-CLAW NOIR JUST TOOK A CATACLYSM...

-(Me with Claw noir right now)

-Chat noir making solid points right now

-Villains really do get all the cool s***

-OH S*** KAMIKO CHAT NOIR

-Damn so akumatization can be like in the blink of an eye. time slows down conveniently.

-Celesticat?!

-OMG ITS AN ANGEL CHAT BLANC (Marinette's ptsd should be kicking in now)

-The puns were great, and by by shadybug

-Claw noir litterally pretended to try and catch her then let her fall. Thats hilarious

-He was going to take her miraculous, that is amazing. They really hate eachother. She broke his finger lol

-Gabriel venting to his dead wife again

-Oh no, he is going to cataclysm the villains

-"As black as my heart?" Dude you are WAY underselling how evil you are

-The Supreme spares? So basically they are forced to do this or they perish. I see

-I love their arguements

-They went back to search the room, Alya really going through it now

-The Supreme, it must be Evil fu.

-Oh this is interesting, Gabriel was evil but turned it around after seeing the consequences of his actions.

-Shadybug found Ladybug's diary. Oh snap, she sees she was friends with Alya!

-Claw noir playing with dolls

-She read the diary and is like "That buffoon? REALLY ALTERNATE ME?!"

-Oh wow, Gabriel that is good is actually a better mentor then su han. (a low bar but still)

-Reminder that Plagg can be that insightful and also just as omnipotent as Tikki

-Adrien figuring it out

-The diary is cheesy for exposition, BUT shadybug's reaction to it is actually sweet. Marinette in any universe wants friends and to care for others. (my headcanon is that this is shadybug summarizing what her alternate self is thinking/writing)

-SHE FOUND OUT ABOUT THE WISH POWERS! OF S***

-shadybug going to double cross her Claw noir

-SHADYBUG GOT HIM!

-and she found out he's adrien.

-Emo!Adrien lol

-PLAGG IS GAGGED! The supreme is really evil

-Alya trying to get sabine's phone

-OHHH, he is wearing make up because of the effects of over using the miraculous! Damn thats a nice touch

-Emo!Adrien recognizes Emo!Mari

-Also Gorilla in white is so weird to me

-WAS EMO!ADRIEN SIMPING FOR EMO GIRL! THIS IS AMAZING

-This IS AMAZING

-Ironic that this is how we get the reveal.

-She can wish to swap places! oh s*** that is a hell of a plot twist!

-Wait something is wrong, that logo... Can they not use the wish?

-"Only The supreme defines reality." DUDE! DUDE!!!!!!!! The supreme is officially the most competent villain in miraculous.

-Marinette realizing she cant be an angsty bitch right now.

-Seems the miraculous is taking their toll on both of them. Damn this is dark and I love it

-Tikki blots on.

-Welp this is probably the best writing I have seen from ML in a while. I legit buy this saddness.

-Even Emo! Adrien is sympathetic and he hardly said anything as adrien

-Plagg Dagger's out

-They are both dying and desperate

-Monarch has shown up and he is up to no good

-And just like that Monarch shows why he is an unrepentant asshole.

-Oh look, Chat noir's nightvision is useful again. (It just took 5 seasons)

-MONARCH MADE THEM GIANTS! HOW DID HE EVEN!?

-I knew they werent akumatized,

-Alya being the MVP today

-Illusions, of course.

-I MISSED LADYNOIR SO F***ING MUCH (devours the ladynoir moment)

-Ladyfly looks really cool

-That is a brilliant plan

-The tactical brilliance

-Ladyfly was planning this

-Chat noir mocking Claw noir's puns is everything i needed in life

-Chat noir lost one of his ears

-AND countered, Nice try monarch. Nice akuma trick

-Took monarch long enough

-"There are no awesome girlfriends to inspire me every day" Rip to Shadybug

-Damn, Shadybug, that is a LOT to unpack there

-No matter the universe Chloé is always a bitch. (Theres the astruc stamp in the writing I expected. But honestly still a valid villain reason)

-This is pretty emotional

-Chat noir is playing Claw noir like a fiddle

-Claw noir is the adrien that never moved on from losing his mother. Yep, Like I have said, adrien has a valid reason to be evil

-A hero feels pain and wants to make sure no one else feels that way, a Villain feels pain and wants to hurt the thing that caused them pain

-"I dont want to be cringe." "Embrace the cringe"

-Adrien out here saving himself.

-Adrien talking about his friends because he DOES know them. THANK YOU. THIS IS WHAT I wanted.

-Shadybug, "I dont want to be cringe." Claw noir "It sounds cringe Im in"

-Shadybug fixed everything AND HER COSTUME CHANGED. I kind of love it

-THE COSTUME CAN BE ALTERED AT WILL.

-Claw noir's new design is officially my favorite. Chat noir iteration

-I think the good versions of shadybug and Claw noir might be my favorite costumes for them

-Okay so they going back now

-Also I just realize that these version actually KNOW the other's identities. yet their canon ones dont

-Monarch discovered the multiverse

-GASP! KAMIKO TIZED LADYBUG!

-My reaction

-Scarabella and Kitty noire universe

-Kitty noire's reaction is so lesbian

-ANIME UNIVERSE (this officially my favorite special)

-Comic book universe

-A Misterbug and Lady noir universe

-Betterfly being the mentor Ladybug and Chat noir really needed

-Omg the day is finally over

-You know one big plot hole is Monarch could have simply deakumatized Ladybug so she couldnt stop him but didnt. Cause he is an idiot

-And cute little alyanette

-LITTLE KISSES. Damn the Alyanette fandom is eating good tonight

______________________________________________________________

I stand by what I said, this is the best Miraculous world special done.

Honestly If I included it in my episode rankings this is easily a top 5 contender.

I now want a sequel in which Shadybug and Claw noir fight the supreme, because the Supreme sounds f***ing epic and evil.

Maybe season 6 plays into it. (That would be one hell of a season)

10/10 in terms of ML specials and episodes

It is a bit cheesy but I loved what I watched

#ml #miraculous ladybug #ml paris spoilers #ml paris #miraculous world #gale reviews

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pregnant-piggy · 2 years ago

Text

January

The Artist’s Muse series

Remus Lupin x reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: dealing with the aftermath of a very drunk new year’s eve, Remus has to face his feelings on a dark night with you in Muses

Two weeks. Two weeks since New Year’s Eve. Two weeks since the party in the pub. Two weeks since waking with a terrible hangover and Sirius snuggling into his neck.

Two weeks since Remus kissed you and there hadn’t been a single day that he hadn’t thought of it.

He couldn’t forget the way your lips felt. The way you smelled. The way your mouth tasted. He couldn’t forget what it was like to be so close to you, to feel your body flush against his, just perfectly, as if you were made for him. He couldn’t forget the way the world had silenced the moment you had pressed your lips against his. He was an addict even after just one time because fuck it had been so good.

You occupied every thought of his. You showed up in his dreams—not all that innocent. You were there with him all day in Muses and when he went home you were there too, plaguing his mind with your words and your eyes and your lips and your smile and your ‘Rem’ and the way you looked at him and the way you made him feel and the way you were everything for him.

He was in love with you. And he could no longer deny it.

He tried to forget the kiss. Tried to forget the impact you had on him. But it was impossible. He recognised you in the series he watched. Heard your voice in music. Read about you in all the novels that lay on his bedside table. Even the women behind the counter in the supermarket had looked like you—he had run from the store and dined with expired instant noodles that night.

So he hadn’t been able to forget the kiss. And when you had entered Muses on the second January, with a bright smile and watery eyes from the wind outside, your ears hidden under a hat—his hat—and had started ranting about the idiot that had nearly run you over, Remus had realised something. He had stood there with a faint smile on his numb lips, slowly crumbling on the inside while he pretended to listen to you. Because he knew then. He knew. He hadn’t forgotten.

But you had.

- -- - -- -

Remus’s fingers tightened around the brightly coloured cover of a book when you stepped close to him, showing the screen of your phone.

“Do we have this?” you asked.

Your head was so close that Remus could easily press his lips to your forehead. He sighed, blinked twice, and looked down at your phone. “What’s ‘this’?”

You glanced at the screen and then looked up at Remus. You were too close.

“Little Bookshop of Murder?”

“Is that a hint?”

You giggled. Too cute. “If I wanted to kill you, this would definitely not be the way I’d do it.”

“So there is a way you would?”

“That depends…” You pursed your lips. “You plan on drinking my coffee again?”

“An accident. That was an accident.”

“If you say so, Rem.”

Remus bit the inside of his mouth. That name. That would be the way you’d kill him. A slow and sure death. It was torture.

“But do you know if we have it?” you asked, shoving your phone under Remus’s nose.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Don’t remember ever stocking it.”

“Not if you think very hard?” You got even closer and tapped your finger against his forehead. “Really very hard.”

He could smell you. The shampoo he figured lingered on your pillow in the morning. The baby blue bar of soap he’d see in your bathroom each time he was over. Your perfume. Where did you use it? Your wrists? Behind your ears? In your neck? Would he smell it if he leaned forward and—

“Rem?”

He cleared his throat. Today was a bad day. “No,” he said, tearing his eyes away from you. “No idea. Check the system.” Get away. Far away from him so he could regain control over his thoughts.

“Hm, fine.” You walked back and Remus had to resist the urge to pull you back. He hated himself.

Five minutes later, he heard your voice from the other side of the bookcase. “It’s not here. Should we get it?”

Get whatever you want, Remus wanted to say. Instead he squeezed his eyes and shook his head. “How do you think it’ll do?”

“I don’t know. It’s on theme.”

“Still trying to kill me?”

You waited a beat too long to answer “no” and Remus could picture the smirk on your face.

It was easier to communicate through the bookcases because with you not so close Remus didn’t want to combust or tear his heart out and give it to you. You read him the premise of the book and reader’s reviews, summed up why you thought you should and should not get the book, and, without Remus saying anything other than the occasional ‘hmm’, ‘sure’, and ‘obviously’, settled on the decision that you’d read it first and then decide.

He rested his head back against the bookcase, listened to you with his eyes closed. He didn’t need to see you to know exactly how you looked; furrowed brows, tapping a pen against your pout as you thought, running a hand through your hair, hunched shoulders. And as soon as you had made the decision, he could imagine you straightening your back, dropping the pen, and running a hand over your face as if that would wipe away the thoughts.

“You still there?”

Your voice cut through Remus’s thoughts. He opened his eyes and shook the thoughts off. The day would never end like this.

- -- - -- -

The last customer left at fifteen to six. You were in the backroom, Remus up front, cleaning the day’s mess. It had gotten quite busy that afternoon and he hadn’t had the time yet to put back the pile of books that had sat beside one of the chairs, bugging him all day. Now he was fitting the books in their according slots, listening as you did the same in the other room.

The busyness had kept his thoughts down for a while but now they were returning. He tried to focus on finding the right place for a flimsy romance novel, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how close you’d been that morning and how badly he wanted you to be that close again. Which was stupid, considering he could barely talk whenever you were in arm’s reach.

Outside it was dark already. The faint yellow hue of the streetlights fell through the big front window, but was powerless against the lamps in the store.

Two more books and then he was done. Two more books and then he could go home and you’d only be in his mind, not physically close anymore.

“Hey, Rem?” you called from the other room.

Remus crouched down, sliding a book on the bottom shelf, and looked up. “Yeah?”

“Do you have—”

There was a loud snap and the store turned dark. Pitch black.

“What the…?” Remus turned his head the other way. The streetlights had gone off. As had the lights at the coffee shop across the street. And at all the other stores in the street.

“Remus? You alright?”

“I’m okay. It’s the power.” He got up, reaching for his phone in his pocket before realising he had left it at the check-out counter. “Crap.”

His eyes hadn’t gotten used to the dark yet. “Where are you?”

“Still back here. It’s surprisingly dark. Why did we never install windows?”

Remus chuckled dryly. “Can you come back here?”

“I’d love to, really, but I’m sort of built in between boxes of books that I can’t see…”

“Okay. I’ll come get you.”

Very slowly, Remus held onto the bookcases to find his way back to the counter. Once there, his hands passed various objects before finding a phone. He turned it on and was met with a selfie of himself and you, taken a month ago at the Christmas fair you claimed Remus had ‘dragged’ you to. There was a big smile on your face and your eyes were squeezed half-shut. Remus had taken the photo and he saw his crooked smile and the red tip of his nose, and while he usually didn’t like any pictures taken of him, he figured that with you next to him it didn’t look half as bad.

“Rem?”

Remus tore his eyes from your phone. “Coming,” he muttered. He turned on the flashlight and quickly walked to the backroom.

There, he found you standing in the corner, looking at him with an impatient smile. There were two boxes on your left and a huge pile of books on your right. Remus offered his hand.

“Thanks,” you murmured as you took it.

With Remus’s help you climbed out of your book-fort, stumbling into his chest when you didn’t lift your foot high enough. He caught you against his body, arm automatically curling around your waist.

You held onto for him for a moment, before pulling away. “Thanks,” you muttered again, smiling sheepishly.

He didn’t want to let go. Didn’t want you to walk away from him. He wished his mind would decide on what side it was.

“Sure.” Remus glanced around, using the flashlight. “It’s everywhere,” he said. “Must be the entire town.”

“So, what do we do?”

He sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know if the blast damaged anything.”

“How will we know?”

“Not until the power comes back on.”

“Oh.” You bit your lip, looking around the store. Remus couldn’t keep his gaze off your mouth. He wanted to smooth your lip with his thumb. So badly that he buried his free hand deep in his pocket.

“Yeah.”

You turned back and Remus quickly looked away. He pretended to examine the floor.

“Listen, you can go home,” he said, glancing up to find you looking at him. “I’ll stay here until the power comes back on. I don’t feel comfortable leaving this place unattended right now.”

“Absolutely not,” you said.

Remus frowned. “What?”

You laughed. “I’m not leaving you here on your own! What if the power shutting down is all part of a masterplan to rob our store? You’re not ready to defend this on your own yet.”

“And you are?”

“Yup. Home Alone style. I’ve got the plans ready.”

Remus chuckled. He couldn’t deny the butterflies in his stomach at thinking of spending the night in Muses with you. He wanted to deny them, however. “I will be fine on my own. You can go home.”

You ignored what he said and took your phone from his hand. Sparkles cruised through Remus’s body when your fingers touched his and he was a hundred percent sure that he wouldn’t survive the night without embarrassing himself if you stayed. He wasn’t sure he’d survive at all. His heart seemed very set on slowly killing him each time you got near.

“I’m hungry,” you said. “Why don’t I go out for dinner and you can have some time alone so you’ll realise that you’re horribly lost without me?”

He didn’t need time alone to realise that. He wanted to tell you. But instead he bit the inside of his mouth and shook his head. “No way.”

“Awh, you’re afraid to be alone?” you asked, pouting with big eyes. “Don’t worry, Rem. I’ll be back soon.”

He glared at you. “No way I’m letting you out alone in the dark. If anyone is going to get dinner it’s me.”

You stared at Remus, but seemed to realise that he wouldn’t change his mind on the matter, and rolled your eyes. “Ugh, I hate it when you’re being a good man,” you grumbled before stomping away to the front of the store.

Remus watched you go in the light of your phone, grinning despite himself. You were adorable when you pretended to be mad. Terrifying when you were actually angry, though.

With you gone into the other room, Remus was left in the dark. “Some light, please!”

- -- - -- -

The dark streets had been completely empty. It was strange to see the usually bustling town silent, but Remus couldn’t blame the people for staying inside by the candle light. It was freezing, actually freezing, and three quarters of the town were without light.

One side wasn’t, however, and that was where Remus was walking back from with a paper bag with food. He’d finally seen some people in that part of town and he had heard that the power would probably be off for a few more hours. Which meant that Remus had to endure a few more hours with you.

That was fine. Totally fine. Didn’t bother him. It wasn’t as if you put Remus on fire by just breathing in his direction. Of course you didn’t have that effect on him. Only a fool would be so affected by their best friend. A stupid idiot.

There was light coming from the window of Muses. It was so faint that it was almost invisible but the street was still entirely dark so Remus could still see it.

When he opened the door, he wished he had frozen dead on the way back.

“Tada!” you said, spreading your arms wide. “Told you that box would come in handy.”

There were dozens of candles placed around the store. Small ones, tall ones, big, thick ones. On the counter, the tables at the armchairs, the windowsill, the floor. The entire place was engulfed in a warm hug of light and it washed over Remus as he stood still in the doorway.

It was romantic.

His heart nearly stopped.

“I uhh—I got the food,” he offered lamely, lifting the bag. He looked around. Swallowed. “This is… uh, nice.”

You grinned widely, apparently not picking up on Remus’s heart-stammering. “And you said that candles in a bookstore were a bad idea.”

It was a terrible idea. But not for any reasons you knew.

You settled in one of the leather armchairs, pulling your feet up as you watched Remus unpack the food. You ate while softly discussing how the day had gone. It was possible to talk to you as long as he didn’t have to look at you. If he just focused on his food… But the urge to steal glances at you won him over every time.

When you finished eating, you shivered and wrapped your arms around your own body. “It’s cold.”

Remus nodded, taking his final bite. He chewed, swallowed, took his time before answering, “Yeah. I think the heating’s turned off, too.” He dared to look at you. You were rubbing the cold tip of your nose, with an adorable frown. Remus wanted to kiss the cold away. “We have a blanket,” he said instead.

“What about you?”

He shook his head. Lied. “I’m not cold.”

You squeezed your eyes at Remus and he quickly glanced away. He gathered the packaging of your dinner and walked behind the counter to throw it away. On his way back, he grabbed the blanket and gave it to you. His hand brushed yours and electricity shot up his arm, bright enough to bring back power to the entire town.

With a deep sigh, Remus dropped down in the chair.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, arranging the blanket around you.

“Nothing.”

You huffed and Remus looked up at you. “That’s not true. I can see something’s bothering you.” Was that real worry in your voice or did he just want to hear it? “What’s going on?”

He opened his mouth, ready to put it all on the line and confess what had been on his mind for the past months, what he couldn’t stop thinking about. But then he looked at you. Your soft eyes, your folded figure, tucked tightly underneath the blanket. He looked around at the store. The adventure that he had gone on with you. He wanted to tell you, he really did, but everything that he had now…

He couldn’t lose it. Couldn’t lose you.

So instead he smiled softly and shook his head. “I’m just stressed out about this electricity stuff. Don’t worry.”

You relaxed, although there still was a trace of suspicion in your eyes. “Alright,” you said, reaching out your hand to grab Remus’s. “It will be fine, Rem. This place has been here for decades, I’m sure it can handle a few hours of darkness.”

Remus looked at your hand on top of his. He tightened his fingers around yours, stroked your skin with his thumb. He pretended not to feel the fire engulfing his body.

“Thanks,” he said softly, giving your hand a little squeeze.

You gave him a big smile back and then raised one eyebrow playfully. “You’re hands are really cold.”

Remus saw where you were going before the thought had even come up in your own head. “No,” he quickly said, trying to pull back his hand. “I’m not cold. Really.”

You tilted your head to one side. “Are you afraid of me, Rem? You still think I’m trying to kill you?”

“First off—no, I’m not afraid of you.” Just afraid of his own reaction. “And second, you constantly dropping hints that you’re going to kill me doesn’t make it any less suspicious.”

“Fine. Then you’ll don’t mind me sitting with you, do you?”

Blood rushed to Remus’s cheeks as you kept staring at him and for once he was glad that the power was off. “Sure,” he croaked out. He cleared his throat. “I’m all yours.”

You giggled and got off your chair, dragging the blanket with you. You climbed onto Remus’s lap, nuzzling yourself into his chest and tucking the blanket around the two of you. When you wriggled, Remus bit his lip and took a deep breath. He already regretted giving in.

You moved again, dangerously close, trying to get the last bit of blanket under your foot, and before you could do any real damage, Remus grabbed your hips and stilled you. You gasped and he quickly let go.

“Stop moving,” he said softly when you turned around to look at him. “Please.”

For a second you stared blankly at him and then understanding flashed in your eyes. “Really?”

“Yes,” he sighed. He didn’t want to have this conversation with you. Not now. Not ever. “So just… alright? I’ll take care of the blanket.”

A flustered smile formed on your lips and you turned back, resting against Remus’s chest without moving too much.

He tucked the corner of the blanket under your foot and carefully pulled your closer. This was wrong. It could only end in disaster. He knew that it would make his feelings only hurt more, but at this moment he didn’t care. Because you were in his arms, comfortable, content. If that was all he’d get, he’d take it.

And when he woke up hours later, with the lights on, your arm wrapped around his waist, your cheek pressed against his chest, your heart beating in sync with his, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. He was wholeheartedly yours.

- - - - - - - - - -

series taglist: @fluffybunnyu @kissmeunicornbaobei

hp taglist: @kingalrdy @missswriter @awritingtree @ananad1 @secretsthathauntus @izzyyy-1 @nyotamalfoy @xxinvisiblexx @idli-dosa

marauders taglist: @tomshollandz @fific7 @cheoco @natashxromanovf @springflwer07 @marauderssimpcuzwhytfnot

MASTERLIST

#the artist's muse #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader #remus imagine #marauders x reader #marauders imagine #marauders #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter

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