#Red Cloud Curse

[demon-shark]

Red Cloud Curse; Chapter 1

Warnings: Cussing, highway meat robbery, alcohol, mystery shipping

Man makes the mistake of leaving his meat truck in the hands of Kisame, Deidara, and Hidan.

Kisame was walking back to the apartment with Hidan and Deidara when they came across a truck. The guy they assumed had been driving it was standing next to it and typing it away angrily on his phone. It must have been dead because the driver ended up angrily shoving it in his pocket. He then looked up at the three of them and pointed while he yelled, “Hey! Yeah, I’m talking to you!” Kisame stepped up to the guy as he approached asking, “You gotta phone?” Kisame dodged the question by asking his own, “What? Did your truck break down?” The man looked between Kisame and the truck before snapping, “No genius, I just like standing around in a shitty neighborhood. Look I’m already two hours late on this delivery, I try to take one short cut and this is what I get. My goddamn kid drained my phone playing some stupid game, my goddamn wife took my charger. Listen, I will give you ¥5 if you let me use your phone. Just one call.” 

“Oh, we don’t have a phone. Our Dad said not until we’re 18.” Deidara lied without hesitation. Deidara then turned around and waved down the street, “There is a bar down 10 blocks that way… I can’t remember the name. They should help you out though.” The man’s eyes widened. “10 blocks?! Fricken.” The man then reached into his pocket and started counting out some cash. “This is yours if you watch the truck.” For a desperate man, he sure is cheap. “¥5, cool. Thanks, mister.” The man then started down the street, “And make sure no one gets near it!” As soon as he was out of earshot Kisame pulled out his phone and made a call, “Hey Kakuzu, I’m sending my location to you now, bring a crowbar.” 

It took 5 minutes for the rest of the Akatsuki and some of their neighbors to show up. As soon as Kisame was tossed the crowbar he broke the truck open revealing an entire butcher shop's worth of meat. Kisame and Kakuzu jumped in and started helping others into the truck so everyone could take what they wanted. As they started emptying the truck, more of their neighbors caught on to what was happening and joined in. One rather feisty old lady slapped Hidan away from a box of something, “Get back, I’m married to two husbands.” Hidan raised his hands as he said, “Take it easy, Grandma”. As the Akatsuki dragged their portion of the haul into the apartment, Konan stood in front of the freezer, “How are we going to store all of this?” It was then that Kisame came in with a whole cow leg on his shoulder, “Careful, coming through.” Konan looked over everything before turning to Zetsu, “Does Imada still have that chainsaw?” Zetsu didn’t look up from the meat he was weighing as he said, “yeah and he owes Hidan cause he covered for him while he was having an affair.” As Kakuzu went to grab the chainsaw to cut the larger meats, the others took knives to what they could and wrapped them up in newspapers. They soon heard the sound of the chainsaw being used from the sidewalk, “Can someone get the leg to Kakuzu?” Konan asked and she chopped up some beef. Hidan jumped up from his station and plopped the cow leg onto his shoulder, “You got it,”. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Loud bangs shook the walls of their apartment as a grumpy Madara made his way to the door. He nearly ripped the door off its hinges startling the officers, only made worse by the scowl that Hidan is convinced is permanently stuck on his face. “I-I uh…” The first officer struggled to find his words causing his partner to step up, “We’re investigating the recent robbery of a meat truck that took place last Friday. We were wondering if anyone here might have seen something.” Madara crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway as he looked down at the officers. “No.” The first officer took an awkward step back as if trying to escape only to be stopped by the second officer. “We actually have a few suspects we would like you to look over.” She then pulled out three pictures that roughly looked like Kisame, Deidara, and Hidan but Hidan and Deidara were the wrong gender and Kisame’s shark features were exaggerated to almost cartoonish proportions. It was then Kisame walked out from the room he shared with Itachi, Sasori, and Deidara. 

Madara turned around at the blue man he found to be a companion and called him over, “Kisame! There are some cops here with some pictures they want you to look at.” Kisame looked only slightly confused before he walked over, the second officer held the pictures out to him and without hesitation, he said, “I have never seen these people in my life,”. Madara heard someone choke down a laugh in the back and if he knew what was good for him he would be gone by the time Madara turned around. “Very well, thank you for your cooperation,” the second officer said before leaving, the first officer practically sprinting away from the door. Madara slowly closed the door behind him, before turning around to a grinning Hidan who looked a little too proud of himself. “Have you never heard of discretion?” Hidan immediately waved him off, “It’s not like the dumbasses recognized me.” Kisame raised an eyebrow at the silver-haired ass, “Where are you going?” Hidan looked around the kitchen as he said, “Maruko du Pain.” Kakuzu then stepped out and headed to the kitchen to start making coffee. “Don’t distract Itachi.” Hidan looked back at him offended as he said, “I wasn’t going to,”. Hidan then grabbed a piece of toast and headed out the door. “Was that picture supposed to be me?” Kisame asked, turning to Madara who grumbled as he rubbed his face and headed back to bed. 

Hidan enjoyed Madara’s breakfast as he made his way into a nicer part of the city. As he did, he noticed a familiar redhead entering his very destination. He grinned to himself as he ran in after Sasori, the door not even having the chance to close. The look on Itachi’s face said it all ‘Please don’t do this’. Upon seeing Itachi’s face, Sasori turned around and immediately regretted it. Sasori turned around and took his usual place in a corner of the cafe that was hidden from the cameras. Hidan strutted up to the counter where Itachi stood with a look of utter defeat, unable to run because of his job. Only Hidan was interrupted by the sound of a woman clearing her throat. She had to have come in after Hidan because he hadn’t seen her when he entered but that didn’t stop her from looking up at him as if she expected him to move. 

Upon seeing that Hidan wasn’t going to move she shoved him out of the way. “This creme brulee has dirt in it!” Itachi looked slightly concerned as he reached out his hand, “Can I see it?” The woman handed it over and Itachi quickly relaxed, “This is vanilla.” The woman then scoffed as she asked, “Are you calling me stupid?” Hidan then mocked her scoff as he said, “He isn’t but I’m going to.” The woman then put her hands on her hips as she turned to Hidan, “Vanilla is clear, if you’ve ever baked before you would know that.” Hidan then put his hands on his hips in an exaggerated manner, “Maybe your cheap store brand stuff is, but vanilla pods have little specks in them.” The woman then gave an offended gasp before storming out of the bakery. “What was her problem?” Itachi gave a tired sigh as he said, “That was Okubo Azumi, she lives next door to the bakery and seems to have an issue with the bakery.” Hidan removed his hands from his hips to look over at Itachi, “So she does this regularly?” Itachi gave a tired nod causing Hidan to look back at the door the lady just left, “Who beefs with a bakery?”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As they lit the trash fire everyone gathered around with their beers and their kids to celebrate the meat hull they pulled off earlier that day. “I’m gonna be honest, when these… teens moved in six weeks ago going on about some cycle of pain or hatred or whatever, I thought they were a bunch of loons. But I’ve come to see the light. How we have come to over rely on heroes causing good people to stand by when someone needs help. Heroes who care more about fame and money than helping down-troughton people like us. Heroes help maintain a system that suppresses us. A system that shames and demeans those for things out of their control. A system that puts assholes in charge because they were determined better than the rest of us at birth. People I had brushed off as just some teens who didn’t know what they were talking about, opened my eyes to real problems with our society. And that’s just my way of saying… thank god for the Akatsuki.” Everyone then raised their beers as they yelled, “To the Akatsuki!” Miyake Hiroki, a drunkard who liked to play the victim, wasn't too far off from what Pein had been pushing since they learned about this hero society. However, what he believed the message was as an individual isn’t as important as how the community had taken it. As he watched over the trash burn and barbeque he was approached by Tobirama. “Pein.” Pein looked over at the albino, returning with his own, “Tobirama”. Tobirama then moved to stand next to his wheelchair, his arms crossed. “We need to talk.”

It was then everyone heard the dreadful sound of police sirens. The lights soon came into view and turned out it wasn’t just the police, a fire truck had shown up as well. The crowd quickly started to boo as the party was shut down. The police ushered the people away as the firefighters put out the fire. “Gotta hand it to um, they handled it faster than the heroes did.” Jouzetsu smiled as he put his hands in his pockets. “That’s because the heroes don’t come into this neighborhood,” Dokuzesu grumbled, the implication of Jouzetsu being a dumbass clear in his tone. “That does remind me though, whose turn is it for the electric bill?” Hidan gave a quiet, “Crap,” before reaching into his pocket and pulling out ¥25000 in cash, “This should cover it,”. Pein then looked over at Tobirama who had been cut off by the situation, looks like he wasn’t going to drop it. Pein gave the rest of them a look before he and Tobirama left to talk.

[kbwrites]

“Who did this to you?” A deep voice echoes, vibrating around the walls of the throne room. On the opulent throne sits the owner of the baritone voice — Ryomen Sukuna. The king of curses, resting his head on his arm as he looks down at you, too scared to look up from your feet.

“I don’t like repeating myself.” He warns, your body hasn’t ceased shaking. Your uniform is tattered, the rips in the fabric revealing deep purple bruises. Uraume was the one that found you, unconscious in the butlers pantry. After waking you up they brought you to the throne room. So there you were, kneeling at the feet of your king.

You arrived to the estate a year ago, your life as a servant was agreeable. Lord Sukuna treated all his servants well. You were loyal, efficient and pleasant to look at, it was only a matter of time before he started to notice you.

At first he requested you be the one to serve him breakfast. Then it became lunch, and suddenly you tended to all his meals. He demanded you for everything, his bathing, dressing. He could do all of these things himself of course, but he prefered your gentle hands. His personal attendant, not even Uraume, had seen the king of curses at his most vulnerable... but you had bared witness to all of him.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me who. Then why?” Ryomen slowly rises from his throne, his looming figure towering over your kneeling body. He lowers himself to your level, one hand reaches down to lift your chin. Firm yet gentle he forces you to look up at him, your eyes meeting his red ones. Your once flawless skin is covered in bruises. His eyes darken.

“They t-think you favor me.” Is all you can manage to get out.

Word spreads around the estate of course. And plus Sukuna didn’t exactly hide his preference for you. You didn’t sleep with the rest of the help, you were given a room connected to his. ‘In case he requested your presence in the night’ but the reality was he slept better knowing you were near. You didn’t eat the servant food, you dined in the great hall. At a separate table he had made for you. All of these things on full display for the others to see, it wasn’t long before the insults started. At first it was the odd ‘slut’ or ‘whore’ being mumbled in passing. Then an accidental shove into the wall, always followed by a curt “sorry”.

But today? It was your birthday. You had only mentioned it to Ryomen in passing one day at breakfast. He never understood the need for such a useless celebration. You went about your duties for the day, when Uraume found you and handed you a small box. And there on display for everyone to see, a beautiful beaded bracelet made from polished cherry wood. A token of appreciation ‘for your hard work’.

A gift from the king of curses.

“What’s so great about you anyway?”

“Lord Sukuna’s bed-warmer gets everything she wants!”

They punched and kicked, throwing you into the pantry. The group of servants you once thought of as your family. Clouded by jealousy, hatred towards you — the lord’s favorite.

Ryomen Sukuna, the epitome of ruthlessness and malevolence, softens his gaze. He looks upon your trembling form with… pity? His moment of weakness is replaced by an unreadable expression.

“You have been relieved of your servant duties. You will stay here in my quarters from here on out.” It’s a demand, leaving no room for objection. Your eyes well up with tears looking up at your king, his other hand wipes them away. He rises, walking towards the door, his back facing you.

“Get up. Uraume will tend to your injuries. Once you are well, we will visit the servant’s quarters. You will point out those who laid their filthy hands on you, and I will kill them.”

part 2 out now!!

[sugutiva]

ᥫ᭡. synopsis : overstimulation with gojo has him unexpectedly proposing to you.

tags : smut, p in v, overstimulation, belly bulge, marking ( scratching & hickeys), slight edging, fluff at the end..?, cursing, dirty talk, all lowercase intended, not proofread !

a/n : the long awaited gojo drabble 🌚!

“ nahhh, don’t do that,” satoru tuts disapprovingly, above your cock-drunk state, while having your body folded in the most meanest mating press. his hand presses down on your stomach bulging with his dick print, making you sensitively aware of every inch of him ruthlessly thrusting into you— although your beyond fucked out at this point. “ keep those pretty eyes on me, baby.”

he can’t control how his dick twitches inside of you at your submissive situation. you look past breathtaking, staying compliant as you let him have his way with you for the nth time this night. you’re so fucking tight— satoru can’t tell if he’s being dramatic or if you’re trying to cut off all circulation from his lower body.

you cry, gripping at his muscled back desperately as you feel the bulbous head of his cock make out with your cervix sweetly. “ satoru— you’re so b-big, fuck! can’t take it n’more. . .”

“ ngh, y-yeah?” he’s cut off from his own sentence when he thrusts further into you, his cock mapping out every inch and beyond of your suffocating heat.

“ can’t take it? i can’t tell from how yer’ greedy pussy is cryin’ for more of me,” clouded cerulean eyes travels back down to your belly, and how his hefty size noticeably protrudes from within your inner walls.

his calloused hand that’s already displayed on the bulge creeps down lower, where he rolls enthusiastic, tight circles on your already cum-covered clit, from the previous rounds. “ hmm, let your pussy do the talking from now on, since she’s the only one telling me the truth,” he sharply grins to himself, watching your accommodating body react to the sudden stimulation, before it’s washed away with a hungry mewl from his lips as your cunt impossibly invites him in deeper.

the environment in your shared bedroom was lustfully humid, and filled with the obscene sounds of skin on skin slapping, and combined seductive moans like a melody. despite your weakened state from the previous onslaught of orgasms before— your mouth waters with dangerous anticipation. achingly, longing for another sweet release of the night.

satoru’s vision shifts to the frothy ring of your joint releases, clinging around the base of his cock alluringly. “ shit baby, i was g’na propose to you first, but it seems you’re pussy beat me to it, heh.” he knew you were going to ignore his drunken secret-confession, given that every time he’s overstimulated, he always makes childish promises to marry your pussy as he fucks himself into you near the brink of unconsciousness. but you don’t have a clue of how serious he is right now.

your effort to hold onto him evident as the skin on his back is painted a burning red as a result of your harsh scraping. you feel his muscles twitch under your nails as you inflict light, cat like scratches beautifully down his back.

“ s-shit,” his hips stutters while his lips suck drastic hickeys on the expanse of your neck— marks that scream his name, scream that you’re all his. “ marry me, marry me p-please,” the thumb on your clit speeds as if he’s focusing his impatient anticipation on your puffy clit.

“ you’re not s-serious,” you whine underneath him, raking your nails deeper into his skin and following the dipping curve of his back. “ jus’ saying it cause you’re pussydrunk, toru,”

“ fuck— ‘m not, s-swear. have the ring picked out, suits you the best,” his feverish kisses return back to your mouth. your orgasm is so close, tightening and building up as your pussy is past the point of broken right now.

your orgasm is so close, you can taste it. one more rock of his hips will surely have you leaking around his imposing length— except, it doesn’t come right away. the delay in pleasure has you glaring at satoru, and him staring right back, all traces of playfulness gone. “ i won’t let you cum until you say you’ll marry me.

you blink, “ are you serious right now, satoru?”

“ dead.” he replies back, quick.

satoru is a spoiled asshole, holding your orgasm over your head until you comply to his stupid proposal that he asks every fuck.

“ i don’t b-believe you right now, you always say that dumb shit when y’re gonna cum,” you try to wiggle your hips for some indication of the excitement from before, but with your straining position and the obvious size difference, it does no avail.

“ well, believe me now ‘cause i’m serious,” the weight of his eyes and words discreetly has you shifting away from him, but nothing goes undetected in the stupid god-like eyes of satoru as he pulls your body back down and presses on the outline of his dick making itself known on your stomach. “ i belong to you, and you belong to me. so why no—“

“ fuck! i fucking do, satoru, just fuck me already!” you cut him off with a shriek, the feeling of your orgasm slipping further from you is absolute torture. nonetheless, he grins, all traces of playfulness coming back while his hips greedily wind up again.

“ thought so baby,” he leans over to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss as the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm builds back up again. “ that didn’t take long at all. admit it, you wouldn’t know what to do without me or my dick, wifey.” satoru’s broad body envelopes your smaller one completely as he slots his entire being against you; finding a new pace to fuck you in recklessly.

“ toruuu, ‘m gonna cum t-toru! ‘s so good, all f’me!” your wall spasms around him, sucking him in and in— before you messily drench his cock in your salacious fluids. your moans grow silent as your draining orgasm flushes over your body. “ oh my— f-fuck,” your nails dig in the surrounding skin of his back when he doesn’t show signs of slowing down. even through his own orgasm, he still manages to deeply hump against your body under him. your combined cum starts to froth, sliding down his thighs and settling on the stained bedsheets.

in your shared aftermath it’s quiet. you enjoy the warmth of his body on top of yours as you come down from your high. you barely realize that he’s reaching over in the bedside drawer to grab the small box that contains the ring to put it on your finger, until you feel it.

“ . . .you were serious, huh?” you smile, stretching your fingers out, adjusting to the new look on your ring finger.

“ about you? always been.” he grabs your hand to kiss the ring.

[inmaki]

gojo showing off your back scratches to geto

( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .

contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)

everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.

a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.

there was only one thing ruining his peace.

all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.

despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.

"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.

right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.

great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—

"i fucked her!"

suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.

big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.

"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.

"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"

unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"

"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"

at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.

"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.

"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.

it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."

suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.

a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.

"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.

turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."

it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.

not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.

and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.

"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"

an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."

"huh. surprised you could last."

as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."

geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.

even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—

satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"

he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."

over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.

maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.

mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)

© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[unluckiestmember]

Arcane x Ransom! Reader

Summary: How would the Arcane characters react if the reader was held for ransom?

Characters: Jinx/Powder, Violet "Vi", Caitlyn Kiramman, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Sevika, Silco and Licker (mention).

Warning: Slight cursing and suggestive themes/implied sexual themes.

A/N: I literally got the idea for this request from Helluva Boss, particular episode 6 of season 2. I hope you all enjoy this though, I know I did!

Powder/Jinx

“You have who?! Where are they?!… You want me to pay you for them? Oh I’ll pay you alright!”

Jinx doesn’t take the idea of you getting hurt lightly. She already is super overprotective of her little trinket, so when she heard that you were being held for a price, she wasted no time grabbing Pow-Pow, Zapper and a bunch of chompers to aid her in her “heroic rescue” for her princess/prince. As soon as she is where you are held, you don’t have to see her to know she’s there for you. Don’t expect any talking, just laughter and hollers followed by gunfire, screams for mercy and explosions.

Before you know it, the Loose Cannon is standing in front of you, pulling you into the tightest hug ever and dressing your face with kisses. She will ask you countless questions while freaking out, beating herself up over you being in such a position. But when she feels you touch her and assure her you’re okay, she’s on cloud nine. As soon as she laces the area with bombs to blow it to kingdom come, she’s back at her hideout, being super affectionate and touchy the entire night. Don’t expect anyone to be touching you for months unless they want their head blown off.

Violet “Vi”

“… What?… You… You just pissed off the wrong woman.”

First word that you were kidnapped, Vi wasted no time hunting your captors down and beating them to a bloody pulp. The woman is like a bull seeing red knowing you were somewhere cold and scared away from home and her arms. So until you were back to her, anyone was able to get a personal greeting from the pink haired fighter. Vi is pretty merciful, but in situations like this, she isn’t afraid to push the envelope by giving life threatening injuries to the bastards that hurt you.

When she found you, she didn’t bother asking any questions or giving any money to your kidnappers, unless they counted a mouthful of fists and kicks as payment enough. When she’s done with her punishment, she’ll immediately scoop you into her arms and take the both of you back home, where she checks you for injuries and asks if you are okay. Please comfort her. She may act all tough and cool, but the situation scared her due to thinking she lost you just like everyone else. As soon as she knows you are alright, she’ll promise no one will ever do that to you again.

Caitlyn Kiramman

“You kidnapped Y/N? Why would- Who do you think you are? You better let them go right now!”

Caitlyn was used to people being kidnapped on the job, having to save them or negotiate with criminals for their safety. But she would have never imagined such a thing happening to you of all people. When she was told you were being held for ransom, she understandably panicked before taking deep breaths and thinking of how to get you back to her. The enforcer can easily scrounge up the money for you to be freed, because you were more important than any coin that reaches her pockets.

So when she arranges a meeting with your kidnappers and finds you so scared, she finds it hard to stop herself from grabbing you and making a run for it. If the kidnappers pull a fast one on her though, all bets are off and bullets are flying. When she has you back, she will watch you like a hawk and be on the defensive for a while. But if you assure her enough that you are okay, she will lighten up. On the bright side, after the incident she’s more romantic and spends more time with you in and out of work.

Viktor

“Look, I’m sure we can talk about this. I’ll get you the money, just. Please don’t hurt them…”

Viktor beat himself up when he heard you were taken away from him for monetary purposes. He just doesn’t understand how he would let this happen- How he would let someone easily take you under his nose and put you in harm’s way?! He could’ve waddled in his sorrows, but he couldn’t. He had to save you and he had to act fast! It would hurt him, but he would ask for assistance from Jayce and the council if he can. And if they can’t help him? Well. Maybe it was time to break out those so-called dangerous machines Heimerdinger warned him against using.

When he finds you, he’s wasting no time trying to negotiate a way around matters so you could be freed. And if those negotiations don’t go according to plan, then he’ll use his machinery and his brain to outsmart the criminals into freeing you. When you are back together, he’ll just. Hold you. Like you are a precious gemstone. He’ll promise you this will never happen again. No one will ever lay their hands on you again…

Jayce Talis

“Is this supposed to scare me? If anything, you should be the one scared- Do you know who I am?!”

Jayce does not take threats lightly, especially when it comes to his family, friends and his loved ones. As soon as he was told you were held for Ransom, he let his anger and determination to get you back fuel him to do anything to send a message and bring you back to safety. You will immediately know your boyfriend got the message because in a matter of hours, enforcers are barging into the area you were held like they were entering a war, shooting, punching and slamming anyone who got in their way from their goal; You.

And Jayce is in the middle of it all, swinging his hammer without remorse before running to your rescue as your knight in shining armor. As soon as you grab his hand, he’s walking you back to his place casually through the enforcers destroying everything in their sights and leaving a message for the assholes that took you; Never. Ever. Touch the councilman’s lover. Don’t expect to go anywhere without guards following you if Jayce isn’t, whether you want to or not. Jayce just can’t take the chance for you to be taken again. Is it extreme? Yes. But it was worth it.

Sevika

“Ransom? Seriously? Please, that’s nothing. And I’m about to show you why.”

When it comes to ransom, Sevika wasn’t new to having her friends or past lovers be kidnapped for money. So when she heard you were being held hostage, she casually grabbed her poncho, fixed her arm for a brawl and headed outside to round her co-workers up. When she found you and the ones that took you, she wasted no time kicking in the doors and sicking her co-workers on everyone before she made her way towards you after knocking some skulls in. She’ll ask if you are okay and especially check you for any injuries before grabbing you and joking how you found yourself in this predicament.

The fight rages on as soon as she places you outside for safety. Saving you wasn’t enough. No, she needed everyone to know that when someone messes with you, they have to deal with her and the rest of Zaun. When everything is over and done, Sevika will take you both back home and treat any injuries you want before kissing your cheek and simply talking as if you weren’t kidnapped to begin with. If you think she doesn’t care, then hoo boy. The way she’ll treat you that night in bed will make you think otherwise.

Silco

“Hmm… If I were you, I’d beg for mercy when I get there…”

Silco is never one to be threatened because he’s always the one making the threats. Hearing about you being held for Ransom made him immediately go on the move to round up Sevika to follow him in bringing you back to him. If he gets there and doesn’t find you anywhere, he will deliver a silent signal to bring the house down. But if you are present, then he won’t need violence to be delivered by his Right Hand. He’ll just need to put the fear of gods into your kidnapper.

He’ll paint them a picture of how he’ll find their families and let them listen to the melody of their bones breaking. How he’ll have Licker carve paintings into their bodies and let them choke on their own blood as they beg for mercy. What do they think of that? They wouldn’t like that at all. As a matter of fact, they would hate it so much that they would release you and fade from existence right there. As soon as you are back to Silco, he’s going to take you back home as if this was only a minor inconvenience. But as soon as you two are behind closed doors, he can’t help from keeping his hands to himself and make promises against your skin.

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[sunniepoo]

thinking about mean stepbro!rafe catching his cute little stepsis humping away at her pillow late into the night when everyone’s asleep ⋆ටᆼට⋆

that night was ingrained in the back of rafe’s head as if some twisted fairy carved the image of you rutting helplessly into your pillow within the crevices of his brain

it was all by complete chance. the night’s breeze gushed through the older cameron’s window awakening him to the seasonable hot hours of darkness- he couldn’t even remember what caused him to leave bed; water? needing to use the bathroom?

all that clouded his twisted mind, was walking past your room; his sweet, pure minded step sisters room. the soft little pants and uh uh’s that left your mouth filled the silent air. he almost couldn’t believe it, it felt like some perverse wet dream that centred around your poor, naive self

his body moved before his mind, his hand gently creeping up against the door, softly pulling it open- cautious to making no noise to alert his presence. it was art; the sight of seeing you move vigorously against a spare pillow, your hips rocking back and forth as your back arched back, your hands travelling up to pull and squeeze at your clothed tits, your mouth agape as the sinful sounds of pleasure leave your mouth

but the true beauty of it all was when his eyes fell down to your bare pussy, all red and puffy from the constant stimulation. you were so so so wet, you poor thing must have been so achey, so desperate

he would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted, there was nothing he wanted more than to barge in and pound that pretty pussy till you couldn’t even remember your own name - but he settled, hiding in the darkness, watching you work at your pillow late into the night. he found his hand travelling down beneath the band of his sweatpants, palming away at his hardon, small pants of pleasure escaping his mouth

you paid no notice to your surroundings completely oblivious to the shadow of the large figure behind your door until you stopped

fuck! had you seen him? has he been caught?

depsite the danger of being caught, rafe’s head peered further inside and god he nearly came at the sight.it was heavenly,the way you took of your corset like top, tits spilling out in an almost pornographic like manner. one of your small hand gliding up your stomach, eventually to come pull and twist at your cute little nipples while the other goes down to rub at your already sensitive pussy

the loud moan that left your mouth went straight to his throbbing cock, dying to be let free and make itself home in your tight cunt. he rushed to pull down his pants and boxers, freeing his large length as his hands fist around it, moving up and down at the same pace you rocked against the pillow

his mind couldn’t help but wander what if it was him underneath you instead of the pillow, the zip of his jeans catching against your sore clit just as the edges of the pillow did when you rocked forward and when you rocked back it was the friction against his bulge rather than the fluff of the pillow

he could hear that you were getting closer, your whines becoming higher as you rocked faster and faster, your hand rubbing roughly against your mound prompting him to move his fist faster up and down the length of his cock, leaking with pre cum

a soft series of curses left your mouth as you went into total bliss, hands gripping the side of your bedside table,mouth agape while a high pitched wine left your mouth and as if it was a cue for the tall blonde, he spilled out across the palm of his hand

he wondered if you ever heard the joined pants of the aftermath of both of your highs. he watched you collapse down into the warmth of your bed, the lengths of your hair stuck against your sweaty body as you breathe out, softly panting

god he wishes he could have stayed and watched your pretty pussy throb and clench around nothing but he knew he had pushed his luck already. the images of you and your little cunt plagued his mind as he fell asleep

⇉

the morning after was a blur for you; the early morning rays of sun kissing your skin, waking you up to the quiet twitter of the birds. it was early - way too early for anyone to be up, maybe ward but that seemed unlikely since he had no buisness to attend to roday

so when you went downstairs in nothing but a pair of panties and a bra covered by a thin dressing gown, the last person you expected to see was rafe cameron, the older boy resting his lower back against the counter, mindlessly scrolling on his phone

there was something magnetic about him - the dark blue in his eyes carrying a deep mystery. despite his typical mean,brooding state - barely sparing anyone around him more than a glance, you were always so drawn to him - his roughness; it only made your mind wonder to places they definitely shouldn’t be going, especially not about your brother

his hands; so rough and calloused, always adorned with the familiar gold cameron ring gifted by his father. you’d thought about them more often than you’d like to admit, what’d be like to hold them - intertwining them within yours. you wondered how’d they’d feel inside you, fitting in you so snug - reaching places inside you that you could only imagine of. the thought of them wrapped tightly around your neck, his fingers inside your mouth, making their way down your thro-

“your up early, must’ve slept good” you look up at him, realising you’d been staring intently at the lengths of his fingers, his voice was husky signalling he must’ve just gotten up aswell

you didn’t miss the subtle smirk as he uttered out the end of his sentence. weird you thought but didn’t pay it much thought, rafe is rafe. “yeah i guess-” you sigh out, hands softly grazing against the edge of the counter as you moved slightly closer “i mean i went to bed pretty late but it’s fine”

“yeah?” it was hard to miss his teasing tone, you couldn’t help but look down at the ground - feeling small in his presence “and why did you go to bed so late” the sudden shift in position nearly startles you, with rafe’s tall figure looming over you, standing impossibly close. you could feel his minty breath coming slowly closer and closer, making your pussy clench around air

you couldn’t help but take in his appearance, wearing nothing but a tight pair of boxers which did nothing to hide his quite obvious boner poking at the front of your thigh, hair tussled above the icy blue in his eyes

“just on-” the quiver in your voice only seemed to push him closer “on my ph- phone” you ramble out, hoping this conversation would be over soon enough

and just as he goes to speak, the voice of ward and rose waking up could be heard from downstairs, thank god- but it doesn’t stop him from shifting closer, leaning down to your ear “ well get to bed earlier-” he drawls out, voice unusually soft and gentle “f’me kay” he begins to leave but not before placing a sticky kiss on the bottom of your cheek, hands resting dangerously low on your back but quickly glide off at the arrival of the rest of the family, as he rushes his way upstairs

you stood there hot and bothered and all that rested in your mind was the excitement of straddling your pillow tonight hoping it was him;your mean older step brother

[themidnightcrimson]

malevolent ࿏ wm

summary: in which moving into a new house brings you horrors you never imagined.

words: 7.6k

warnings: forced breeding, strap-on, dubcon/noncon, demonic, horror, gore, top!wanda, evilmommydemoncockwanda4life

this is dark!fic for 18+ only. minors dni. read with discretion.

The day was cold and bleak. The air had a frostiness to it that manifested in a sheen of white over the long-dead grass that had yellowed at the passing of autumn. The leaves scattered around were no longer vibrant reds and oranges but rather dulled browns. The trees were barren—dark, crooked cracks in the grey skyline. You noticed a pack of buzzards eating at roadkill.

Death.

Christmas was just around the corner but, unlike everywhere else in the country, this town seemed to not be celebrating much. You’d noticed that the very first time you drove through—this sort of head-down feeling about the place that differed so much from what it looked like. The town itself was charming and cutesy with so many little shops and beautiful gathering spaces. It was colorful, too. But something about it seemed greyed, like a ghost town almost except the people were still there. They didn’t talk much, especially not to outsiders apparently. They only whispered to each other with concerned faces and low voices, like they were afraid something lingering around in the air would hear them. They held their children very close to them.

So it wasn’t exactly the neighborliness of Westview that attracted you to move there. The town felt like something very dark had happened in a place that otherwise was a great place to live.

To be quite honest, the housing market in that town had taken a sudden dip down in the past couple months. You didn’t understand the housing market and thought maybe people just didn’t like to buy houses in the winter, but there were a few neighborhood roads that had recent For Sale signs up in every yard. It’s like people were evacuating the town. Running from something.

There was a specific house, actually, that had taken a steep dip down in price. It was put up for sale a couple months ago for a shockingly low price. You were stunned when you found out there were no bids, no one who had showed interest since it’d been put up. It was a beautiful house, a perfect family home. Not that you had any family to put in it. It was just you, but you liked space.

And for a price that cheap? In a quiet town away from the city? You couldn’t pass up on it. You were anxious, anyways, to have somewhere to yourself. Crashing on your friend’s couch wasn’t exactly the most glamorous post-breakup living arrangements, but the apartment lease was in your ex’s name.

Now you stood, on this dreadful day, in front of that house. You couldn’t help but feel like the windows were eyes staring at you, measuring you the way you were measuring it. Evaluating, judging. Maybe your confidence was just shot from all you’d been through the past few months. You had a house now. It was time to make it into a home.

It didn’t so much seem like the dark energy of town had made its way into your house, but rather that the house was some sort of energy field pushing it out into the town. This was a strong assumption to make, but as soon as you walked into the front door, you could feel it. The air was thick with something more than just the dust of time. It was still. So still. You could feel the still air on your face like a thick cloud of smoke that wasn’t there. It was energy brimming all around you. It made your stomach turn.

You couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t feel this eerie energy when you viewed the house. You felt it from the very beginning, but you just needed somewhere, and this house was the only one in your budget.

Cursed, is what the local kids called it. It was cursed because of the family who lived there. When you questioned your real estate agent about it, she sort of brushed it off and said that they just disappeared, that whatever happened to them, happened outside of this home.

You were reluctant to believe that story, but you were a skeptic anyways. If a young family had been axe murdered here or something, it was still just wood and brick to you.

The first few days in the house were busy. The moving company was taking all your stuff from your ex’s apartment and moving it into your house, which meant you had to deal with her calling you and screaming that she definitely bought that chair even though you distinctly remembered ordering it for the living room. You hated having to speak with her, with all her narcissistic tendencies. As much as you mourned the relationship, you mourned how stupid you were for ever putting up with so much for so long.

The house apparently was built in the 50’s and hadn’t been touched since besides the usual renovations every decade or so, which you enjoyed. Older houses had so much more character, like the adorable little partition window between the living room and the kitchen. You opened and closed the little shutters, imagining what 50’s housewife used this for so many years.

So you didn’t have much time to dwell on that eerie energy in the house while the movers brought everything in, until they left. And it was just you and those walls.

Luckily you could focus on unpacking all the boxes stacked around. You did so dutifully, and since you really had nothing else to do, you finished pretty quickly. By the next day you were untaping the last box which was full of random childhood artifacts. Trying to think of where you could put these things that you wanted to keep but didn’t really want just lying around, you suddenly realized that this house had an attic. The agent had vaguely pointed to it previously but you had never went up there.

Going upstairs, you opened the attic ladder and carefully climbed up the rickety thing, instantly inhaling thick layers of dust as your head entered the dark attic. To your surprise, you saw a few boxes lying around.

“Huh,” you murmured with interest as you swatted away cobwebs, the floor dangerously creaking beneath you as you approached the boxes. Whoever took the previously family’s stuff out of the house must have forgotten about the attic, which you found strange. Were they in that much of a hurry to get in and out?

Crouching down, you wiped the thick layer of dust off the box. How much dust could have accumulated in a matter of months?

None of the boxes were taped, only folded shut. Was it wrong of you to look through their stuff, especially since they were basically considered dead? To be fair, the house was yours now, and you needed to put some stuff up here. So you opened the box and looked inside.

This one was full of different colors of fabric. A red fabric crown of some sort, green tights, a blue headband, a can of silver spray paint for hair. Halloween costumes? All of superhero-esque kind?

Opening another box, this time you find some sort of fake lobster. A doorknocker? There’s some baby stuff in there too—a book about the psychological effects of pregnancy, a crib mobile made of butterflies. You go through all this stuff, the usual family keepsakes that the mother was too sentimental to throw away, until you suddenly come across something starkly different.

A book, but a different kind of book. It’s at the bottom of the box, and it’s heavy. The front is dark and somewhat torn with strange inscriptions on it. Heaving it out of the box, it falls into your lap with a cloud of black dust. What the hell did a family have to do with this? It looked more like a Halloween decoration than anything.

Mindlessly flipping it open, you saw that the pages were full of language you did not understand. Markings, almost, like hieroglyphics. Symbols. You come across a page that has the only recognizable thing you see—the figure of a woman, hair flowing, seeming to levitate on the page. This page is much darker than the rest, and the corners more torn. Like whoever read this book always seemed to seek out this specific page.

A sudden popping noise that sounded like weight on a floorboard startled you, made the book fall (it felt more like it leaped) out of your hands. You turned around to see nothing but the dark empty attic.

It was much too creepy up there.

Leaving your box of childhood memories up there and deciding to swap it out for this strange dark book, you carefully climbed back down the ladder and closed it.

The air felt thicker than ever now. Vibrating. Like it had just woken up.

࿏

You were mostly settled. Things still felt weird in the house, even after you put up every decoration you owned, but you figured it would go away with time. You’d been living off takeout the whole two weeks, hence the pile of Chinese takeout boxes in the corner of the kitchen. Deciding to go shopping to have some real food in the house, you pulled on your jacket and stepped out into the bitingly cold air. There was even a harsh wind, too, that made your nose hurt. Hugging yourself, you walked down your driveway and noticed a woman standing in the yard of the house next to yours. It was one of the few houses still lived in on the street, and you hadn’t even seen your new neighbor until now.

It was a middle-aged woman checking her mailbox. You struggled internally to decide if you should say hi or not, knowing that being all alone in a strange town was probably not the best idea, but something told you to just keep walking. You almost made it to your car until suddenly you could see her head snap towards you out of the corner of your eye. Instinctively, you froze, looking across the yard at her and seeing that she squinted her eyes suspiciously at you.

“H-hello,” you weakly greeted, shivering from the cold.

“Who are you?” the woman called out loudly, turning her body fully towards you now as if she was braced to defend herself. Great, a crazy neighbor.

“I’m y/n. I just moved in.” You tried to give a smile as you pointed to the house.

Looking between you and the house, the woman hesitated before walking towards you. Wishing you’d just ran to your car and left, you tried to be polite as she approached you.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said gruffly, sticking out her hand which shook yours rather aggressively. You noticed now something neon green on her hip—a watergun? “Detective Agnes. I work for the FBI. I’m working on a murder case here.” She pulled out a black wallet and flipped it open towards you. You knew that there was supposed to be a gold FBI badge there, but it was only a CostCo membership card for someone named Ralph.

“Oh,” you mumbled as she sighed officially and put her “badge” back in her pocket. She was also wearing a purple shirt with a picture of Dolly Parton and the word “Jolene” on it. Who the hell was this woman?

“Better be careful, newbie,” she said, pointing to your house. “The kids love to egg this house. Don’t worry though, I’ve got top of the line security system.” She nodded proudly and pointed to the roof of her house, which you noticed had one solitary print-only Polaroid camera haphazardly duct taped to it.

“Oh,” was all you could say again, feeling the intense urge to run away.

“Unfortunately the department frowns on tasering the little shits even though it’s what those punks need to set them straight,” she said, stretching and tapping on the other side of her hip, which had a toy car on it that she apparently thought was a taser.

Nodding slowly, you started backing away to your car. “Okay, well, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too, young lady. Be safe out here. It’s a crime-ridden place.” She dramatically looked around the nice, quiet neighborhood as if she was looking at Gotham City and went back to her mailbox. You got in your car and sped away.

Westview only had a tiny market in town. It was liminal with its old linoleum floors and flickering green LED lights that buzzed overhead. It smelled slightly of rotting meat. You wondered if you could steal Detective Agnes’ fake CostCo card.

It was deserted in there, too, besides the drunk clerk with a scruffy beard who stared blankly at you. This was the point where you started to realize the citizens here did not take well to new people.

In fact, you had noticed the only other shopper in there seemed to be following you around. You didn’t feel in danger, given that it was just an older lady in a sweater buying fig newtons, until suddenly she came out from the other aisle and slammed her cart into yours.

“Hey!” you yelled out, looking at the older lady with short blonde hair.

“Get out while you still can!” she whisper-yelled, her eyes pleading. “You’re going to die!”

“Excuse me?”

“Run! Get out of that house, get out of this town! Wanda! She’s going to kill you! She’s going to kill us all!”

She was screaming now, eyes tearing up, knuckles turning white as she gripped her cart. You stared at her, wondering if you should call the police, until suddenly her face changed into a pleasant one.

“Ope! Sorry, dear! These carts have a mind of their own!” She let out a cheery little cackle before wheeling her cart away, going down the aisle to look at the Pop Tarts.

You stood there dumbfounded for a moment before deciding to just leave and go to Eastview for your shopping needs.

࿏

Your ex thought you weren’t worth much, but you knew she had to miss your cooking. Cooking was an art to you, a hobby you enjoyed sharpening your skills in. Tonight, since you’d been living off of leftover orange chicken for days, you were making a nice ribeye with lemon green beans and garlic mashed potatoes. A comfort meal. Maybe it would cheer up the angst-imbued house.

The interaction with your neighbors, specifically with the lady at the market, was unsettling. Why was she telling you to get out of that house? Who the hell was Wanda and why was she going to kill everybody? Was everyone in that town cracked out or out of their mind?

It was a little cozier, admittedly, as you were cooking that night. The kitchen had plenty of space for all your cooking tools and equipment, which you had a lot of. They were precious to you, so you had spent almost an entire day arranging them in all the drawers and cabinets.

You limited the lighting in the kitchen to the oven range and the little lamp in the living room. Setting your phone up, you let classical music fill the air as you prepped your steak while your potatoes finished boiling.

You felt calm and at home for the first time in a long time.

Until you started hearing a strange clicking noise.

Your first instinct was to check the oven since this was your first time using it. The clicking was not coming from there. You listened all around in the kitchen until you realized it was coming from the living room. Looking through the partition, you saw that the floor lamp on the other side of the living room was flickering.

Your pot of potatoes steaming and boiling, your steak left on the counter, you emanated through the flip door into the living room. You had just put a bulb in that lamp—no way it was dying already.

The closer you got to the lamp, the more it flickered. Faster and faster, causing your stomach to fold into anxious knots, until finally you lunged and turned it off all together. The room dark now, you caught your breath that you didn’t even notice was quickened.

You reached and turned it back on to find that it was no longer flickering. It must have been a weird glitch with the bulb. You were about to turn away when it suddenly clicked off by itself.

“What the fuck?” you say, reaching to turn it back on when it clicked right back on by itself. Taking a step away as fear imbued you, your eyes widened when the bulb in the lamp started getting brighter.

“What the fuck?” you say again, reaching to turn it off only to find that the bulb was so hot it burned your fingers. “Ow!” Stepping away, you watched in horror as the bulb kept getting brighter and brighter, filling up the entire room with light so that every corner and shadow was lit. You could see everything. And then it got so bright that you couldn’t see well. Your eyes burned, your skin burned with the heat of the bulb. The lamp was shaking where it stood, the fabric of the lampshade starting to burn up to expose the hot bulb even more. Even the metal pole was starting to melt where the bulb sat on it. You could hear the classical music playing from your phone in the kitchen, except that it was frenzied, angered, violent now.

It got brighter and brighter until your face was red hot and your hair felt like it was about to catch fire and all you could see was bright hot white, and you screamed a silent scream “STOP!”

With a loud electrical popping noise, the bright white faded away. You were blinded now, everything pitch dark, the heat replaced with a sudden coolness as the bulb popped and sparked on the lamp where the shade had half melted off. When you could finally see again, you unplugged the lamp and stepped away from it.

“What the fuck?” you said for the third time this night, heart beating fast as you rubbed your hot, aching eyes as your vision came back to you.

Before you could even process what had happened with the lamp, you looked over at the partition window and froze. Your heart stopped in your chest. Every hair on your arm stood up. Your eyes instantly watered with fear.

As you stood across the living room, staring through the partition window into the kitchen, you saw that every single cabinet and drawer in the kitchen was fully opened. All of your cooking tools, all the utensils and knives and equipment, hung suspended in the air right above or in front of the drawer or cabinet you had them in. It was like they were all on strings. And where your dining table was, all 3 chairs were hung upside down in the air above the table.

The air felt alive now. So alive you could feel its heartbeat, feel its breath down your neck, feel it on your skin. It was watching you, taunting you, burning eyes into you. There was something else there with you as you stared at all your kitchen stuff hanging in the air by themselves like they were on pulleys. But they were all so still. Nothing swayed or trembled.

A sigh breezed against the back of your neck. And then everything fell.

All of it dropped, every tool and utensil, every chair. It dropped like dead weight from where it hung, like gravity had suddenly been turned back on. It was deafeningly loud, all the metal tools clanging against the hard tile floor and countertops. Even your boiling pot of potatoes went down with a loud splash of steaming water. It was a deafening clatter, pure chaos as all of your stuff went right down to the floor. Even the chairs cracked onto the ground as they dropped heavily.

Things rolled and trembled until finally it all came to a stop. The air no longer felt as thick, but it was still there. It was silent now except for the eerie classical music still playing from your phone, calmly now.

You didn’t know what to do, or think, or feel. You felt fear. You felt confusion. Fingers trembling, you took frightened steps forward towards the kitchen, unsure of what lied in wait for you in there. Flipping open the door, you expected something to get you. You could feel it, you swore. Watching you. You swore you saw something dark swoop down under the surface of the island counter, but nothing was there. It was just you and all your broken tools and chairs. You avoided stepping on the mushed potatoes that still steamed as you walked through the warzone.

On the counter, your steak laid where you left it. Except that it was bleeding now, covered in thick, black blood that oozed out of it. It dripped down the counter, covered your floor. The center of the steak seemed to throb. Too much blood for just a ribeye, and when you touched it, it was warm.

࿏

Not that you had anyone to tell, but you didn’t speak of what happened. Dumbfounded, you numbly cleaned the mess up and went to bed. After the steak, you couldn’t eat beef for a week.

The house felt different now. Still eerie and angsty, but not as devoid as it did at first. Whatever devoid feeling had been filled the day you went into the attic was angered since the day in the kitchen. It felt like the house was resentful, like it was going to snap at any moment and swallow you. Even the doors kept slamming on your fingers when you tried to close them.

You thought about the lady in the market. Couldn’t stop thinking about her. Something very bad had happened in that house.

“Wanda?” Detective Agnes repeated when you asked her about it. You saw her in her backyard, duct taping another Polaroid camera to her patio. You spoke to her over the fence. It was gnawing at you to know what had happened. “Where did you hear that name?” she asked gruffly, perking up and approaching you at the fence, causing you to take a few steps back.

“Some lady at the store,” you blurted. “She was saying something about a Wanda, like it had to do with my house.”

Agnes squinted her eyes at you, and then she suddenly perked up as if she was listening to something. She grabbed a nearly all-brown banana from her hip and put it up to her mouth like a walkie talkie, speaking in a deep voice. “312 on the move. Dealing with concerned civilian. Be there at 1600 hours.” She tucked the banana back into her belt. “You wanna know about Wanda?”

You nodded, wondering if you should even trust what she has to say.

Agnes sucked at her lip and then blurted, “She’s dead. But you didn’t get that from me.”

“I kind of figured… Did she live here?”

Agnes tilted her head. “And what do you plan on doing with that information, huh? You trying to blackmail a federal officer?”

You raised your hands and backed away. “Look lady, I just live here and want to know why everyone is being so weird about the house I just bought.”

“Look,” Agnes interrupted you, “Wanda Maximoff was found dead in the woods. She’s gone, deadso, totally corpsed out, alright? I’ve got her on an operating table over at the morgue if you don’t believe me.”

You shook your head. “But she lived in my house?”

Then Agnes did something weird. She spoke, “I don’t know.” But she nodded her head.

You looked at her in confusion. “What?”

“I said, I don’t know!” she yelled, but she nodded her head again. The expression on her face was angry, but there was something wrong with her eyes. They were almost… pleading. But like she didn’t realize it.

That conversation didn’t make you feel any better about the situation. And when you got home to find that the old book you’d brought down from the attic was sitting on the coffee table open like something had been reading it, you weren’t exactly comforted.

It was turned to that same page, the one with the figure of a woman wearing a crown. Feeling aggravated with the lack of knowledge you were getting from both the internet and your neighbor, you slammed it shut and threw it under the couch, out of sight. If there was something in this house fucking with you, you would not just lay down and take it.

Things continued to feel off in the house. Your TV kept going off and on at random times. Doors slamming, footsteps in the hall at night, knocking on the walls. None of it felt as aggressive as that night in the kitchen, though. You’d come to terms that you had picked a slightly haunted house, though you still didn’t truly believe in all that stuff. But as a logical, sensible person, you knew that there was something strange causing all these strange occurrences that couldn’t be overlooked.

But when all the little events were mostly docile and didn’t get in the way of your usual living, you just carried on. You wouldn’t forgive what happened that night in the kitchen, but you could live with it and try to forget it. Even though you had to buy so much new kitchen stuff.

That was until you were cleaning one day and picked up that old dark book from under the couch so that you could vacuum. You set it on the coffee table and kept on cleaning, forgetting to put it back in its place of hiding.

That night, with a clean house, you decided to take a nice relaxing bath. You lit candles all around the bathroom and turned off the light as the tub filled with hot water. There’d been more flickering lights and knocking on the walls that evening, but you were starting to get used to it. It was an old house, after all. Maybe it was all just your imagination, and it was all very explainable in a scientific way.

But this event marked a point where you could no longer believe that.

As you laid in the tub, muscles relaxing under the hot water, you opened your eyes momentarily and saw something strange. In the water where you lay, you saw foggy threads of red floating through the water.

Were you bleeding?

Sitting up sharply, you check yourself all over. No marks, no wounds or cuts, no time of the month, but there’s trails of blood floating in the water.

Your heart starts to quicken as the air grows thick around you again, that same feeling as the one that night with the lamp. It swarms you.

“Stop,” you whisper, watching more and more blood appear from nowhere in the water, making the water turn crimson red.

Glancing at the reflective metal surface of the bathtub faucet, your heart stops when you see, in the warped reflection, some shadow of black sitting right behind you in the tub.

That’s when you scream and leap out of the water, nearly slipping on the tile floor as you freak out. There obviously was no one or nothing sitting behind you in the tub, but you most certainly saw the dark reflection of one.

The lightbulb above you starts flickering, even though the light was not turned on.

The blood in the water had gone, but during your jump out of the water your foot had pulled the stopper up. The water was draining now, very loudly, making a deep guttural sound as the water drained quickly. When it was all gone, it was silent.

Something dark appeared at the wide-open hole of the drain. It looked liquid at first, like some black substance was oozing out of the drain onto the white porcelain of the tub, but when it started rising up out of the hole and moving in a very alive way, you realized it was fingers.

Blackened fingers rose out of the drain, wiggling, pulling up a hand along with it. The fingernails were sharpened, the slender hand feminine even with its charcoal fingers.

You screamed when a whole arm shot out of the drain and grabbed at the side of the tub.

All you could think to do was run out of the bathroom and slam the door shut, holding onto the knob and listening as you heard the sickly wet sounds of something being pulled out of the drain and slapping against the wet tub, and even the sound of it stepping over the tub onto the floor. Heavy breathing with effort. Distorted wet footsteps across tile floor.

You wanted to run and call the police, but then you felt the knob gently turn in your hand. This bathroom door did not have a lock.

With some sort of screech of breath, whatever thing that was behind the door pulled hard at the knob. Screaming, you pulled the door back shut before you could see whatever was on the other side, wanting to rather die than to actually see what it was. The thing wrestled with you over the door, pulling hard and fast. You held on with all your strength, hands still wet from the bath, putting your foot against the threshold for more leverage. The air was screaming now, loud in your ears, a heartbeat that was not your own beating from inside your own brain. The lights were all flickering, and the house felt like it was closing in on you.

The thing pulled and pulled, screaming and screaming until it got the best of you. The knob slipped out of your hands, and the door swung wide open.

Instinctively, you slapped your hands over your eyes. You didn’t want to see. You didn’t want to see. You didn’t want to see. You’d rather die than see.

Breathing heavily, you waited for something to get you, because you were certain that whatever was in your house was trying to do that all along.

But nothing came.

Inhaling oxygen and exhaling bravery, you tried to ignore all the visions your brain guessed that you would see, and parted your fingers. Through the slit in your fingers you saw… nothing. The bathroom was empty. The tub was drained but clean. The flame of the candles all around were perfectly still.

But then you heard a creaking noise from behind you. Slowly, breath held, trembling, you turned around and raised your eyes.

A black figure clung to the ceiling. It was the shape of a person with soft edges. It was a shadow, in human form.

It jumped down at you.

With a scream, you buckled to the floor and covered your head, trying to shield yourself. Nothing touched you. You bravely opened your eyes again and looked all around only to not see the black figure anywhere. There was nothing but you, naked and wet on the floor.

The air felt empty again. The thing had come and gone. You were safe.

For now.

࿏

It was hard to feel settled after that. Things got more aggressive. It was like whatever demon was with you had finally laid eyes on you and was set to get you now. You couldn’t find that book anywhere. It wasn’t on the coffee table nor under the couch. You looked everywhere to no avail.

Detective Agnes knocked on your door one night to tell you that someone had been lurking at a window at the side of your house. She was holding a full-size Nerf Super Soaker and said that she had tried to snipe the suspect wearing all-black but they had somehow jumped into your closed window (hence the sound of spraying water you had heard on your window). She demanded to look through the house, which she did and found nothing. You’re pretty sure she swiped a pair of your underwear, though. She taped a Polaroid camera to your roof for good measure and said she took photos of “damning” evidence which included unconcerning pictures of your flowerbed. You knew it wasn’t a person, but rather a thing lurking from within the window.

Nights were the worst. You had never been someone to be so scared, but you could barely sleep from how hard your heart thumped with fear as you lay in bed at night.

A few nights after the bathroom event, you managed to halfway fall asleep somewhere around 3 AM when you suddenly heard loud banging coming from within the walls. Waking up with a shot of anxiety in your chest, you heard the banging again, loud and clear, like someone trying to break down a wall from the inside.

Feeling frozen, you forced yourself to sit up when you fully froze at the sight of something horrific. In the corner of your bedroom, right beside the window, was that dark figure hiding in the shadows. It seemed more formed this time. You could see the outline of hips, hands, legs. The worst part was that you could see two red eyes gleaming at you in the dark.

“Go away!” you instinctively yelled, but it came out barely audible due to the lump in your throat.

The figure slowly came forward, and the moonlight from the window casted over it.

It was some creature of a woman. She was decrepid, slightly hunched over. Her eyes were red and glowing, her mouth set wide open as if her jaw has been broken off. But where her face would have been… Where her face would have been, her skin had been stretched upward into two points, like her skin had been stretched over horns, or over a crown. She was unnaturally tall and skinny, her skin pale and yellowed.

Dark red hair laid at her shoulders, and she was wearing some torn and ratted red suit. Her hands were deformed, long and sharp and bony, blackened at the ends. The horrible smell of death and blood suddenly filled your nostrils, making you gag and cover your nose. The creature smelled of death and appeared deformed, demonic, monstrous, evil.

“Who are you?” you questioned, trying to think of what to say or do. This thing must have been some sort of manifestation of the thing that had been torturing you, and so you say the only name you know. “Wanda?”

The creature erupted into a monstrous screech so loud you nearly went deaf, and in a flash, she lunged fast at you. You swore you could feel her push you down onto the bed when you suddenly sit back up, coming out of a horrible nightmare.

You were sweating through the sheets, panting, looking all around your empty bedroom. Had it been just a dream?

Feeling a sting at your shoulder, you look at it to see a bloody claw mark there, so deep it was already dripping blood.

Once the demon had first seen you in the bathroom, she got more aggressive. Now she had tasted your blood… What was going to happen now?

As you expected, everything got worse. The knocking and footsteps got more violent than ever, doors slamming on you, knives throwing themselves across the kitchen towards you. This thing was trying to get you.

You leased an apartment in Eastview as quickly as you could.

You couldn’t move in for a week, so you were stuck there with that thing trying to murder you. Your friend you had been crashing with was on holiday, but you could not stand to sleep alone in that house. So you asked the only person you could think of…

“No worries, tuts,” Agnes said as she strode into your bedroom with an armful of blankets and pillows. “It’s my job to keep my fellow citizens safe.” She threw her blankets and pillows down on the ground right at the foot of your bed.

Awkwardly, you watched her make a pallet. “You know, I have a couch downstairs… That might be best so you can, you know, watch the front door.” You had told her you were having fears of break-ins and just needed someone to stay with you for a night or two.

“No, no, I can do my job best from right here,” she said as she plopped down onto the pallet. “Besides, these nights can get a little…” She undid her police jacket, which was actually just a varsity jersey jacket with the name Bohner on the back, as she looked up at you with a smirk. “Lonely…”

You just stared down at her, with her banana and water gun. “Okay, Agnes.”

Honestly, the night went better with Agnes there. There wasn’t any knocking or footsteps, no creatures in your corner. It was just Agnes’ obnoxiously loud snoring like a lawnmower right in your bedroom that kept you awake, but eventually you drifted off.

You had dreams of red. Of red and blood behind your eyes. Voices, names, memories, all in red. You don’t know what it was that jolted you awake, but something did, and when you flapped open your eyes, you saw her.

She was on your ceiling.

Red scarlet hair hanging down. Her face was not malformed this time, but rather, it was somewhat beautiful. Even with the glowing red eyes and darkness.

“Wanda,” you whispered, somehow knowing for sure that this was her. Wanda, the woman who had died, who had a family in the house you bought, who had been torturing you for weeks. Her fingers, black, clung to the ceiling as if that’s what kept her there, but you could tell it was magic. It was the same magic that froze your body and made you unable to move as she slowly drifted down the ceiling, closer to you, until she hovered right above you.

She didn’t seem real. This beautiful ghost, demon, whatever she was, her nose so close to yours, breathing over you with red eyes full of desire.

“You opened the Darkhold,” she spoke in deep unnatural voice without moving her lips. “You beckoned me.”

You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t move a muscle in your body except your mouth. “No, I didn’t…” You thought of the old dark book. You had opened it.

“I can live on…” she spoke, reaching out her hand to touch you. It landed on your stomach, causing you to jump. You could feel her hand. You felt silly for expecting it to just go right through you. Her skin was touching your stomach over your shirt. It made you feel fear and excitement at the same time. “I have a womb now.”

Your eyebrows sewed together. “A womb?”

Chills filled you as Wanda’s lips stretched open in a wide grin that was too perfect to be real. Her face looked fake suddenly, like it was just a pretty human mask put over the real face of something horrible. “A womb for my children,” she said without moving her lips.

Suddenly, your legs were spread wide open in the air. You let out a scream of shock and fear, which made Agnes’ snoring finally stop. Agnes jumped up, stumbling, holding her Super Soaker. Her eyes widened when she saw the demon hovering over you.

“Get down!” Agnes yelled to you as she held up the Nerf gun and sprayed a sharp stream of water at Wanda. To your surprise, once the water hit the demon, it steamed and burned. Wanda hissed and turned to Agnes, levitating upright in the air as Agnes continued to spraying her.

Getting out her banana, Agnes yelled, “664 we need backup over here! I repeat! 664 we’ve got a code red!”

Wanda lifted her hand. Agnes rose up into the air, and with a flick of Wanda’s wrist, she was flung right out of the second-floor window.

Wanda turned back to you, and fear jumped at your spine again. Now it was just you and her.

Flying back towards you, she used her magic to peel the sheets off of you, settling herself down on the bed over you.

“What are you doing?!” you cried out as she somehow tore your clothes off your body, exposing your skin to her.

Her hand immediately went between your legs, groping at your core. “I have been waiting so long for you, detka,” she spoke, her voice sounding a little more natural. Her eyes, once robotic and blank, looked softer now. You couldn’t tell if it was real or not.

You tried to squirm but her magic kept you still. Her hand was expert—she rubbed circles at your clit as her other hand snaked up over your stomach, up to your breast which she groped. “The perfect vessel,” she whispered. “I can live on. I can have my children again,” she repeated as she slid her hand down to your tummy again, her hand glowing red. “Your womb is so fertile. I could feel it when you first arrived.”

Your head was spinning as this demon woman worked at your pussy, pinching your clit and slipping two fingers inside which made you yelp. She was gentle yet firm at the same time, somehow knowing exactly what would make you feel good. You were getting wet for her—you could hear it in the wet sloshing sound that your pussy made as she pumped her fingers in and out of you, curling them at their deepest length.

“Fuck,” you breathed, your head feeling suddenly very hot, as if a fever suddenly set upon you.

“You are so good,” she breathed, voice deeper this time as she adjusted where she sat between your legs, now kneeling over you. Suddenly, something large formed at her crotch. It was a strap—long and maroonish red with charcoal darkness at the tip.

“What are you—”

Wanda grinned and shushed you as she stroked her length, red magic glowing from within her strap. “Be a good, quiet vessel, detka.”

Something evil was showing through in her eyes.

“Wanda—”

She used her magic to shut your mouth so that you could only make muffled noises as the demon nestled between your hips, using her hands to spread your thighs further open. She wanted you as open for her as you could be.

Frightened but also some sickly form of turned on, you watched as the demon stroked her cock and brought it to your entrance which she had prepped and made soaking wet for herself. Her cock was larger than anything you’d ever taken. It was throbbing with magic.

The tip pushed through your entrance painfully, and you cried out through the magic covering your mouth as the demon suddenly pushed her entire cock inside you, ripping open your walls. Pain seared through your human body as the demon forced her way inside you, but when she passed a hand over your head, the pain suddenly went away. It turned more into a feeling of butterflies, of throbbing, of pleasure. You could feel blood leaking down your thighs, but she had taken away your pain.

“You are going to give me such beautiful children,” Wanda murmured, cupping your chin with her dark hand as she started to thrust her hips, pumping herself inside you. The pressure came against your cervix in a hot flash of pleasure each time. She was so long and so large, fucking herself so deep inside you that your stomach bulged. The demon pressed her hand on the bulge and cackled, feeling herself fuck you from inside.

You could feel everything, how deep she was, how the ridges of her strap glided against your walls, the way your stomach bulged with each thrust. Your pussy was being stretched open around her demon cock, taking every single inch no matter how girthy.

“The perfect bride,” Wanda said, her demon voice showing through as she started to fuck you harder. Her hand slapped around your throat, holding you down and halfway choking you as her thrusts became quicker and quicker, demonic grunts coming from her. You could feel yourself tightening inside, preparing for what was about to come.

The demon’s cock seemed to swell inside you, forcing you to stretch even more. Sickly squelching noises filled the air. Blood was all over the bed now. You felt nothing but electric, all-consuming pleasure.

“Stay still,” Wanda said as she choked you harder. “You’re going to take all of my seed. You’re going to give me such beautiful children, my beautiful bride.”

She went harder and harder, fucking deep into your womb until finally, the energy broke. She let out a guttural noise, and you could feel her cock go rigid inside you before a load of warmth filled you deep inside. As you shook from your own blinding orgasm, you couldn’t even see the fact that your tummy bulged as the demon kept filling you with her seed which glowed red from inside you.

Sighing, Wanda relaxed against you, keeping her cock inside you. It was still swollen, stuck inside your cunt. “I’m going to keep myself here until I know it takes.” She smiled for real this time as she stroked your glowing, swollen tummy. You were more than feverish now as you felt things start to change inside you at an inhuman speed. You could feel it taking, feel your tummy swelling more and more.

You didn’t know that once you birthed, she would slaughter you like breeding cattle.

[kalisbaby]

“From the River to the Sea.” A Poem by Samer Abu Hawwash, translated by Huda Fakhreddine

every street, every house, every room, every window, every balcony, every wall, every stone, every sorrow, every word, every letter, every whisper, every touch, every glance, every kiss, every tree, every spear of grass, every tear, every scream, every air, every hope, every supplication, every secret, every well, every prayer, every song, every ballad, every book, every paper, every color, every ray, every cloud, every rain, every drop of rain, every drip of sweat, every lisp, every stutter, every yamma, mother, every yaba, father, every shadow, every light, every little hand that drew in a little notebook a tree or house or heart or a family of a father, a mother, siblings, and pets, every longing, every possibility, every letter between two lovers that arrived or didn’t arrive, every gasp of love dispersed in the distant clouds, every moment of despair at every turn, every suitcase on top of

every closet, every library, every shelf, every minaret, every rug, every bell toll in every church, every rosary, every holy praise, every arrival, every goodbye, every Good Morning, every Thank God, every ‘ala rasi, my pleasure, every hill ‘an sama’i, leave me alone, every rock, every wave, every grain of sand, every hair-do, every mirror, every glance in every mirror, every cat, every meow, every happy donkey, every sad donkey’s gaze, every pot, every vapor rising from every pot, every scent, every bowl, every school queue, every school shoes, every ring of the bell, every blackboard, every piece of chalk, every school costume, every mabruk ma ijakum, congratulations on the baby, every y ‘awid bi-salamtak, condolences, every ‘ayn al- ḥasud tibla bil-‘ama, may the envious be blinded, every photograph, every person in every photograph, every niyyalak, how lucky, every ishta’nalak, we’ve missed you, every grain of wheat in every bird’s gullet, every lock of hair, every hair knot, every hand, every foot, every football, every finger, every nail, every bicycle, every rider on every bicycle, every turn of air fanning from every bicycle, every bad joke, every mean joke, every laugh, every smile, every curse, every yearning, every fight, every sitti, grandma, every

sidi, grandpa, every meadow, every flower, every tree, every grove, every olive, every orange, every plastic rose covered with dust on an abandoned counter, every portrait of a martyr hanging on a wall since forever, every gravestone, every sura, every verse, every hymn, every ḥajj mabrur wa sa ‘yy mashkur, may your ḥajj and effort be rewarded, every yalla tnam yalla tnam, every lullaby, every red teddy bear on every Valentine’s, every clothesline, every hot skirt, every joyful dress, every torn trousers, every days-spun sweater, every button, every nail, every song, every ballad, every mirror, every peg, every bench, every shelf, every dream, every illusion, every hope, every disappointment, every hand holding another hand, every hand alone, every scattered thought, every beautiful thought, every terrifying thought, every whisper, every touch, every street, every house, every room, every balcony, every eye, every tear, every word, every letter, every name, every voice, every name, every house, every name, every face, every name, every cloud, every name, every rose, every name, every spear of grass, every name, every wave, every grain of sand, every street, every kiss, every image, every eye, every tear, every yamma, every yaba, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, all…

[leonsgfpost]

note: Hi! I've been a little inactive, right? I've been busy, but there's always time to write something about Leon haha💕

tags: riding, unprotected sex, creampie, Leon damnation (or any older!Leon) x fem! reader.

Thinking about lazy sex with Leon.

You're on top of him, your face hidden in his neck and your hands rested on his shoulders releasing little moans into his skin. His hands held your hips, helping your movements slowly.

Leon's eyes remained narrowed and his brows furrowed in pleasure at the feel of your wet walls sliding over and over him. You two hadn't even finished removing your clothes, because his pants were down his thighs and your underwear to one side.

"Come on, pretty girl... You-ah feel so good." He murmured against your shoulder, inhaling your scent and leaving occasional kisses on your soft skin.

"Are you tired-?" he asked, a low, husky laugh escaping his lips. He looked up at you through his lashes with eyes heavy with pleasure and sleep, bringing his lips to one of your breasts moving your strappy t-shirt up, ruffling it there. He began sucking on your nipple gently, watching your reaction before he began sucking harder. He caught the tender flesh between his teeth, tugging gently. When he hears your little "huh-huh," he smiled releasing your breast with an obscenely loud 'pop.' He padded his feet on the bed and held your hips tightly, beginning to lift you up and down his cock as if you were a sex doll.

"There you go. Feels good-?" he asked again, because it was hard to control his tongue when you were clenching so tightly around him and clouding his drunken brain with the wet noise of your pussy. Low moans escaped his lips, starting to move his hips upward so he could ram you and hit that spongy spot inside you that his dripping tip was obsessed with.

Little moans from you and breathless gasps from him quickly filled the dark room lit by the red numbers marking 02:42 A.M on the little clock next to you. It wasn't often Leon would wake up so needy, but it had been days since he'd laid hands on you and his cock was already screaming for release.

"Damn. Damnit." Little curses and breathless grunts came from Leon's lips that were always flavored with the taste of your liquor. His teeth dug into your shoulder futilely, trying to silence his pathetic moans. His cock began to jerk inside you, for it no longer had the same resistance it had years before. But it didn't matter, because his calloused fingers were always there to give attention to your cute little clit. Your walls tightened around it, starting to feel that familiar sensation in your lower belly. And Leon's careless lunges only turned you on more, because you knew you were the only one who could make a man like him go all messy and dumb for your pussy.

And it's almost funny the pathetic, broken moan he lets out when your walls finally squeeze him, letting your juices splash down his thighs and abdomen creating wet sounds. Your body immediately relaxed, letting Leon continue to mindlessly fuck your brains out. And in one particular lunge, he thrusts his hips up and yours down, letting his cum explode inside you.

You heard his voice saying something, asking something. But your brain was melted, shaking on his chest trying to cope with the sensations of your orgasm and Leon's cum beginning to seep through your folds.

"Are you still with me, honey? Huh-?" he murmured, giving you that typical smile of his. And you opened your eyelids heavy with pleasure, trying to focus your gaze. You let out a little moan, realizing that Leon was settling you face down on the sheets.

"One more time. Please." He asked, settling in behind you. He pressed his chest against your back, his fingers moving to finally slide your ruined underwear down your thighs.

Because lazy sex with Leon always ended in him fucking your brains out until you fell asleep again.

hey! did you like it? please let me know it 🎀

(💌) bye, bye !

[thinkinonsense]

ON YOUR COLLAR

old man!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: smut, logan has a bit of a pain kink, slightly jealous/possesive reader

masterlist

every time –without fail– you manage to leave a lipstick print on the collar of logan's white button down as he heads out the door for work. painted in all shades of pinks, reds, and brown; logan couldn't escape your lips even if he tried.

"can't have any of those customers thinking that a handsome man like you is single." you tell him, before pressing the white material to your lips.

logan never would've picture you being the more possessive one in the relationship but he sure enjoyed it. he can't stare at the lipstick stain for too long while working or else he will get unbearably hard and have to relieve himself in the back of the limo once everyone's gone.

"they don't want an old man like me." logan jokes as you place an extra kiss mark on his pulse point.

"good." you whisper into his ear, pushing him down on the bed. "because you're my old man. not theirs."

logan had to go soon but he couldn't resist your touch. fingers popping open buttons and snaking their way down his toned stomach. your eyes were darker than usual; clouded with lust. logan wasn't one to be take orders in bed but there was something about your dominating attitude that made his pants tighter.

"you're mine. isn't that right, baby?" you smile up at him.

"y-you already know that answer." logan huffs, not wanting to cave.

"c'mon, lo..." the sound of your giggles also cause a moan to slip from his lips. "entertain me."

your hand slips under his black trousers. logan sucks in sharp breath, letting his head fall back against the silk sheets. you free him from the tight restraints of his pants, slowly stroking him. in a rush of need, he chases after your lips.

"i'm waiting..."

logan always gave into your antics. sometimes it took him longer to come around but he would never leave you hanging.

your lips press kisses to his throat and down his chest. the lower your head went, the closer logan was to telling you exactly what you wanted to hear.

"i-i'm yours, honey." he stutters, hips thrusting softly for your touch.

you smile up at him, placing a kiss on the head before sitting up to straddle him and lifting up your dress. carefully, sliding him through your slit a couple time and letting the tip bump your clit.

"c'mon, sweets." logan whines, thrusting his hips up until he's able to slip inside. "gotta leave soon."

"s-shit, can feel you everywhere, lo." you purr, grabbing his left hand and placing it on your lower tummy. "especially, right here."

logan could cum from just feeling the bulge of himself inside of you. the urge became even harder when you started swirling your hips, bouncing lightly at first. not nearly going fast enough for his liking. too busy leaving a trail of red kisses behind; marking your territory.

answering his prayers, you finally pick up the pace.

"fuck," he curses under his breath as your teeth sink into his shoulder. you can feel him twitch inside of you at the pain.

"when were you gonna tell me that you gotta thing for pain, baby?" you ask, pulling back to tease him.

not even hesitating, logan wraps a fist in your hair, pulling it just the way you liked. you gasp at the action and he can feel you clench down on him, sucking him in deliciously. your nails dig into his bicep, leaving behind small crescent-moon shapes.

"hush," logan hisses, gaining back control.

the closer you teetered towards the edge, the more willingly you complied with him. you didn't have much of a choice as he repeatedly hit the sweet spot inside of you.

"c-close." you whimper.

logan nods, bringing his thumb up to your lips for you to suck on before lowering it to rub your button. it didn't take long for your orgasm to wash over your body, trigger logan's release as well.

within seconds, you collapse onto his chest, panting and sore. logan holds you closer as he checks the time.

"i gotta go, sweetheart." he says, carefully slipping out of you and rolling you over.

"wish you could stay." you pout as he covers you.

"i do too, but ill be back tonight."

you watch him get redressed, happy with your lips on his collar still. always with him.

"get some rest, you'll need it later." he smirks, walking out the door and listening to your heartbeat increase with excitement.

[wolfhoundwitch]

Introduction to Shielding

If you haven’t already, check out my lessons on visualisation for the basic knowledge you’ll need to begin practicing shielding.

So what is shielding?

Shielding is a manipulation of energy, used to create a barrier between yourself and unwanted, usually negative or malicious energies. It’s a basic aspect of spellwork that everyone, beginner or experienced, should use to keep themselves safe.

What can I use shielding for?

Some beginner-level uses for shielding are drawing a circle, or casting a spell. A more experienced individual might use shielding in astral travel or spirit work, where there are a lot more malicious energies involved. Personally, I use shielding as often as possible, for instance when I do tarot readings, spells, spirit work, shadow work, and especially cursing. It gives that extra guarantee that you won't flood your personal space with unwanted energies.

Other uses include shielding against real-life dangers, to a certain degree. I often shield when I am walking through town at night for extra protection. But please remember to take other measures too! Call someone, pretend to be on the phone, plan your route, and even carry pepper spray if it's legal where you are.

An easy shielding method:

The easiest way to explain this is to think of your energy as a physical manifestation. Think how power attacks are shown in anime or cartoons - a streak of colour or light, or an element. Make it personable to you: fire signs (Leo/Aries/Sagittarius) might visualise fire, or a red energy or light etc.

Firstly, some people prefer to cleanse before shielding. I don't think its all that necessary but the choice is yours.

Begin by easing yourself into meditation. Get comfortable, and use whichever technique works for you. I have various methods for this in my visualisation lessons if you are struggling.

Attempt to visualise the energies surrounding you in your mind. It might be a swirling colour of light, almost like a cloud of dust. It could be flames, it could be water. Maybe try to see it held within your hand.

Now, attempt to shape this energy around your entire body. You might want to start with a bubble or a cube surrounding you. Feel this shape surrounding and protecting you. Visualise negative and unwanted energies being held back by it.

You can also layer shields, so if you are working with a particularly malicious energy you might want to have multiple shapes surrounding you, all within each other. You can also work with deities or spirits to ask them to shield you too.

Shielding Incantation

When I am shielding, I recite a spell as well as using visualisation techniques.

The shield of protection, I carry it strong, No ill wishes or trouble shall come along, You cannot harm me, or weaken my soul, My light is my weapon, and peace is my goal.

Try it out for yourself and let me know in the comments how it went! Thank you as always for reading. Please message for requests.

[demon-shark]

Red Cloud Curse; Chapter 0

Trigger Warnings: Canon typical violence, cussing, shipping (mystery), not All Might friendly

Shinobi are forced to travel through different dimensions for an unknown reason and they make it everyone else's problem.

Sasori woke up to yelling…

He slowly sat up, opening his eyes to a murky alleyway lit by scarlet red sky. As soon as he noticed it however it quickly turned a dark blue. As his eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness he noticed a bunch of teenagers in the alley with him. As he looked over at the two that were yelling a sickening feeling pooled in his gut, one of them looked exactly like Deidara had when he had first joined the Akatsuki. As the fog cleared from his mind the sickening feeling got worse, he didn’t just look like Deidara he acted and sounded like him too. Next to him was what he could only assume was Hidan from his silvery hair, magenta eyes, and bad attitude. They were already annoying before but somehow their squeaky teen voices made them even more grating. Looking over the other teens he recognized most of them as his coworkers, there was also a shriveled husk of a boy with Pein’s eyes that could only assume was their leader’s true body, but some of them he had no clue about. A boy with an orange mask, a boy with long spiky black hair, and an albino boy with red face markings. 

More importantly, what caused this hell in the first place? Looking around at the tall buildings and strange iron machines on the road he knew he was far away from the land of shinobi. The only teleportation jutsu that could possibly make such a distance was the Flying Raijin but he was sure it didn’t have such a disastrous consequence as turning the users into 14-year-olds. He thought back to the moments leading to his situation. He was walking towards Sunagakure with Deidara to capture the One-tails Jinchuuriki when the sky turned into that same scarlet color he saw when he first woke up. Who possessed the strength to cast such a jutsu? They would have to have quite the chakra reserve since it not only captured him and Deidara but other Akatsuki members as well, all of whom were scattered all over the continent. It would also require amazing control as well since they seemed to have specific targets. There was also the question of whether or not the caster of the jutsu was here, sure there were the three unidentified teens, but would the caster also turn themself into a child? It could always be a side effect but even at this age Sasori was more than skilled enough to take out an entire country. The other Akatsuki members were also in similar states so what would the point be? 

As Sasori thought over the possibilities one name stuck out to him. Orochimaru. He would be the type to cast such a jutsu. It would also be a good way for him to get the Akatsuki far away from whatever he’s plotting this time. Just the thought of getting caught in one of Orochimaru’s jutsus caused his skin to crawl. That slimy bastard always managed to get him to shake with something he hadn’t felt in a long time. As Sasori leaned back in his Hiruko shell he felt something strange touch his back. He snapped his head around only to face… himself. Specifically his puppet body. It felt like all of his organs dropped as he quickly pulled up his arm. It seems that he had suffered a much worse consequence than his coworkers. Sasori, in a panic, checked over his arms with the familiar precision of a medical ninja to confirm his fears. No matter how hard he searched he couldn’t find the familiar chakra-infused vel kaduru wood, the waterproof finish, the steel joints, or anything that might have brought him some comfort. Something to prove that all his research, everything he put his body through, and the months of being out of commission weren’t ruined. But he found nothing…

 He was snapped out of his feeling of helplessness by a deep and dry voice. “Enough.” Hidan and Deidara stopped their yelling as everyone turned to the husk. “It seems we are no longer in our world.” Konan turned to him with a raised brow, asking, “What makes you say that?” The husk moves his hand out and performs the summoning jutsu only for nothing to appear, “My summons are no longer responding to my call.” Sasori couldn’t help but wonder if he was referring to the corpses that he would receive his orders from. It was then they heard someone scream from outside of the alleyway. They got up and peeked out to see a rather strange sight, someone with green slime-like hair and no nose was running away with a stone woman’s purse. Their clothing was uncanny, Sasori could recognize certain elements but other parts felt too foreign. It was then that someone dressed in black with a long white cloth jumped from the shadows and captured the would-be thief, “Thank you, Eraserhead!”. Some other civilians nearby then took out strange boxes that started to flash lights at the man in black as they cheered. 

The husk was right, this definitely isn’t their world. As the situation sunk in, rage-filled Sasori. If that scaly psychopath is behind this, he better hope he finds the secret to invulnerability before Sasori finds him…

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Kakuzu looked over the grocery list he started weighing whether or not they actually needed all the shit on it. As he turned the corner he noticed the fire, it had spread about a block or three and the heroes were being just as useless as they were when they first arrived five weeks ago. 

“I can’t do anything if there are not at least two lanes of traffic!”

“Explosions and flames are not really my cup of tea, I give my place to someone else this time!”

“We expect your help, thank you! Turning off this fire requires my full attention!”

“The truck is not there yet? What the fuck?!”

“It is so slippery you can’t catch him with bare hands, and more, because this kid has a good quirk, the only solution is to wait it out!” Kakuzu grumbled under his breath, going around the disaster zone would add 15 minutes to his travel time and he really didn’t want to spend more time than he had to on this. As he continued forward through the flames he watched the slime quirk user lash out more causing the heroes to panic. “It’s useless! No one here can stop this!! One can only wait for someone with an advantageous quirk to show up!!” The firefighter turned to the main hero group, “What will you do with the number of victims growing during this time?! Bring someone, and now!” Kakuzu looked up from the grocery list at the chaos before him. “It makes me feel sorry for the kid, but he will have to wait a little longer.” With the cheers of the people rooting for the ‘heroes’ echoing in his ears, Kakuzu used a water jutsu to flood the street. The slime quirk user paused in shock for a moment and that was all Kakuzu needed to rip the hostage from his grasp and splatter him across the street. 

Kakuzu didn’t pause in his movements, the crowd parting before as the heroes looked on in shock. Only after he turned the corner did they seem to snap out of it. After going down another two blocks he arrived at the grocery store. If he hadn’t been gathering coupons like his life depended on it, he doubted they would be able to afford half the things on the list. As he wandered around looking for the cheapest possible version of everything on the list, he noticed a woman who wouldn’t stop staring at him. At first he tried to ignore it since the woman was clearly a civilian. But as the minutes ticked past the woman’s stare went from an annoying itch to a burning that he could no longer ignore. Kakuzu then quickly turned down into another aisle… only for the woman to follow him, peaking around the corner with an unblinking stare. Now he was starting to get irritated, Kakuzu turned to the woman who jumped when their eyes met, “Can I help you?”. 

“You’re the guy they’re talking about on the TV, right?” The woman then pointed at the TV that was showing his picture as they talked about a young man stepping up during the villain attack. “Dammit,” Kakuzu quickly decided screw the groceries he’s not dealing with this shit. He took what he had and did a brisk walk towards the cashier. The cashier stared at him in surprise before looking back at the screen, before the cashier could say anything Kakuzu cut them off, “Don’t,”. The cashier jumped in their spot before they started to quickly scan through the groceries. Kakuzu dug through his pockets and as the cashier said, “T-that’s going to be ¥70.49.” He slammed his coupons on the counter causing the cashier to jump again. “Your new total is ¥12.70.” Kakuzu paid, grabbed his items, and sped walked out of that store. 

As he turned the corner his heart dropped, in front of him was a crowd of people gathered in front of a shopping window full of TVs. All of which had his face plastered in HD. He ducked into an alley as someone turned their head in his direction. He was not going to deal with this today. He sneaked onto the city rooftop and started jumping the buildings, he would rather risk a hero encounter than another civilian. As he ran over the rooftops he saw the worst possible thing… his face plastered on one of those electric billboards. He didn’t think his archnemesis would be TV, yet here he stands. As he entered the suburbs he silently slipped down into an alley before continuing his walk as usual. This entire situation caused him to be out much longer than expected and worst of all gave him a migraine. 

“I’M HERE!!” Like his day couldn’t get any worse. Some hulking man rushed out from the corner behind him and caused his migraine to send iron spikes through his skull. After Kakuzu sent him a death glare, the bruiser gave an awkward cough and rubbed something off his cheek. “Young Man! I came to thank you!!” There was a brief pause as if the man was expecting something. However, Kakuzu just stared at him before asking, “Who are you?” The man ended up coughing blood and shriveling down to less than half his size. Kakuzu quickly assumed his quirk had something to do with it and the blood was a side effect. “Crap, I ran out of time.” Kakuzu barely held back a snide comment about his wasting that precious time talking to a random kid. The man continued to cough up blood before eventually pulling himself together. “Anyway, I came to thank you. At that time, I was nothing but a worthless bystander watching from the crowd. So thanks. There are stories about every hero, how they became great. Most have one thing in common. Their bodies moved before they had the chance to think. Almost on their own. And today, that’s what happened to you.” Kakuzu paused at that. “What are you going on about?”

The man paused in surprise. “I didn’t step in because of some unconscious movement, I stepped in because I didn’t want to waste time going around it. And as for that situation earlier, damn right you were useless. You and anyone else there could have stepped up and done something, yet you all waited for someone else to come along and solve the problem. What would have happened if I hadn’t shown up? Sure, someone else could have stepped up, but from the looks of it, what should have been a minor problem would have destroyed the shopping district and the hostage would be dead.” The man stood there in absolute silence. “You can think about that next time you decide to stand around.” Kakuzu then left, the sun was starting to go down and he was rather pissed. A trip that should have taken an hour at most ended up wasting his entire day because he had to avoid being spotted. 

As we walked through the door, his day got even worse. “I always knew you had it in you, Kakuzu!” Hidan rounded the corner with the grin of a demon out of hell. “Way to show those heroes who the TRUE hero is around here.” Hidan then stepped too close to Kakuzu as he said, “I kept telling those guys that you had a golden heart hidden under your gunky layers.” 

Kakuzu punched him through the window…

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Say “Thank You”

Tags: Sukuna x Fem!Reader, nsfw, mdni, spanking, degradation, humiliation, a hint of cockwarming as a treat

An: guys… he was supposed to be a mean ruthless king who is a little obsessed with you, but i accidentally made him fall in love with you 😭

Swat!

Sukuna loves the way your ass recoils with each firm slap he gives. It was a shame that you were so obedient and good for him because good god, he loved seeing you bent across his lap all whiny and ruined as your fleshy bottom started to grow red from the repeated punishment.

“Say it.” His low, gravely voice demanded.

“Thank you-!” You forced yourself to reply. You knew that if you said it too quietly, he’d spank you twice as hard.

“Mmm..” He hums in satisfaction from your obedience. His hand lightly caresses the skin as it was starting to sting. He realistically knew this punishment was overboard for the “crime” you committed.

You and Uraume were in the kitchen together, and you two were cooking Sukuna one of his favorite lunches. Anytime you two cooked together, you used it as a time to gossip and vent about Sukuna since he’d rather drop dead than walk into a kitchen.

Unfortunately for you, this time Sukuna was looking for you. He had checked everywhere in his domain. You were nowhere to be found, and you were so caught up in your gossip that you didn’t hear his calls of your name.

He’d rather drop dead than walk into a kitchen, but he did it to find you. It was fucking worth it too.

If he wasn’t so clouded with worry anger, then he would’ve taken his time to admire your facial expression.. the way your eyes got all big and puppy-like. Your eyebrows were knitted together, your lip trembled when he found you in that kitchen.

“I’ve been calling.” He huffed out as his lips twitched into a snarl.

“I am so sor-“ You start to apologize, but he grabbed your wrist and tugged you to the throne room so abruptly that you didn’t finish your worthless apology.

He sat down on his throne, and he yanked you over his lap with your bottom high up in the air. He then tugged your annoying skirt and panties down, exposing your ass for all of those who dared to look.

“Suku-“ You start to try to plead with him, but he was quick to cut you off.

“After each spank, you are to tell me thank you, got it?” He instructs lowly as his hand cups and massages your pillowy cheeks. His mouth involuntarily waters at the sight. He rarely ever got to punish you. This was like a treat for him.

“I got it.” You whimper out as you hide your face in his thigh, trying not to think about how every curse can see you in such a vulnerable position.

Swat!

Sukuna was barely using a fraction of his power to spank you, but it was enough for your body to jolt forward from the impact.

“Thank you.” You say lowly as your hands grasp onto his thighs. You silently hope to yourself that the king is feeling generous today.

After each loud blow, you thanked him for punishing you. Your body was trembling as your cheeks were now burning red and slightly swollen from his hand. His hand prints decorated your bottom, and it was making him feel feral.

What was even worse was the way your body trembled in his lap… how your words of gratitude slowly grew whinier and breathier. Oh, and don’t you think he didn’t notice the way you were squirming and trying to grind against his lap and hand.

You were getting needy, and he knew it.

“Fuck. Such a naughty girl.” He coos as he rubs on your ass, kneading into your skin.

“N-no, I’m good-!” You plead in such a whiny tone.

Slap!

“Thank you.” Your voice was so weak. You were now thanking him out of habit. He had truly conditioned you to he grateful for his punishment.

“How can you be good when you’re all exposed on my lap for everyone to look at you? You look like such a slut right now.”

His hand wooshes down and connects with your bottom once more, eliciting a cry from you. “Thank y-you!”

His cock was rock hard, pressed against your body as you were bent over.

“You like this, don’t you?” He lowly growls as his hands rub the irritated skin on your bottom. He had been so mean to you today. You likely didn’t deserve half of the spankings you received, but he was so intoxicated by the sight of you taking the punishment so well.

Swallowing harshly, you meekly nod your head. You crane your neck up and over your shoulder to look at the king of curses. As soon as his eyes met yours, he actually looked… off kilter.

His eyebrows were knitted together, and his eyes were slightly wider than usual. His lips were somewhat agape. He looked enamored by you.

There was something about seeing your face, your watery eyes and blushed cheeks.. the way your lips were bruised, and you had such a needy look in your eye.

Humans would describe Sukuna is feeling as love, but the king of curses knew that he didn’t feel anything of the sort. He couldn’t. Curses don’t feel that way. Love is useless. This isn’t love.

No. This is limerence.

He slips his hand between your thighs, and he drags his fingers between your slippery folds as he gathered your slick onto his fingers, making you shudder. He then popped his fingers into his mouth and let out a satisfied hum as he sucked your juices off of his digits.

You always taste so sweet, like a forbidden fruit. He wanted to corrupt you from the inside out.

He delved his wet fingers back between your thighs. "Is this what you wanted, slut? You wanted my fingers inside you, didn't you?" He taunts as he shoves his pointer and middle finger into your wet heat forcefully.

Your eyes widen, but you can't help but to arch your back for him. A pleased smirk curls on his lips as his entire arm and hand starts to move, repeatedly filling you with his fingers right there on his throne where anyone could see you.

"Su-kuna.." You quietly whimper as you bite your bottom lip, trying to mask any noise that dared to bubble up.

"That's not my title, brat." He reprimands as his other hand reaches over and plants a firm smack right on your plush cheek.

"M-my lord! B-bedroom." You tried to cry out, but you could feel yourself growing addicted to his fingers. He could see it too.

"Nah. I'm fine right here. It seems like you are too." He denies as his fingers curl inside of you, searching for that special spot.

He knew he had found it when you tried to bite back a moan. "There. Got you." He brazenly declared, and he began roughly finger fucking you, hitting that spot each and every time.

You weren't seeing stars. No, you were practically begging god not to take you then. You could see heaven, and it was the only heaven you'll ever see after letting the King of Curses ravage you like this on his throne.

Sukuna gently spread his fingers, prepping you for what's to come. You're already dizzy in the head just thinking about it.

Undoing his robes, he pulls you up so you’re no longer bent over his lap, and he turns your body facing away from him.

Your warm juices of arousal were already leaking all over his lap. “Messy girl.” He casually comments with a laugh as his hands wrap around your hips. His sharp nails just barely digging into your flesh as he lifted you up.

You can feel his tip prodding near your entrance, and you can’t help but whimper and whine. Curses and servants are just walking past you two and working around you two as if nothing was happening.

“S’kuna- w-wait..” You try, but he’s already got a taste of your wet heat. He can’t stop right when he’s getting to the good part.

“You’re wearing my patience thin. I didn’t ask for you to speak.” He grumbles from behind you in a warning tone.

Your poor little cunt was clenching around nothing, so desperately begging to be fucked by him. He pushes his tip past the ring of muscle, and he lets out a deep groan. Meanwhile, you’re practically clawing at the arms of his throne.

“Fuuuuck, what are you so tight for?” He muses as he brings one of his hands around the front of you. He’s careful to rub your delicate clit without scratching you with one of his nails.

Your body is such a traitorous thing. You’re so embarrassed to be taken so blatantly in front of others, but your hips can’t help but try to move, fucking yourself on his tip for christ’s sake.

“Impatient, needy little human, aren’t ya?” He taunts before applying a bit more pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Oh well, it can’t be helped.” He smirks as he uses his other hand to force you all the way down his massive length until your warm sticky walls were gripping all of him.

“F-fuck-!” Your nails dig into the side of the throne, and tears spring into your eyes involuntarily. It hurts so good, leaving you fluttering around him.

“Language, pretty thing.” He smirks as he hugs your body from behind, pulling your back to be flush with his chest. “Just be still for me. I’ll give you what you need soon enough.” He coos in your ear before his tongue gently licks the shell of your ear.

“T-too much.. can’t take it-!” You whine as your body is trying to adjust to the intense pressure inside you. You swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“Shhh, your whining helps nothing. You can and will take it.” He hums as he just holds you to him. Sukuna is a patient man. He waited a thousand years to conduct a plan. He can patiently sit inside your drooling cunt for as long as you need him to.

His hands gently pull up your shirt, revealing your breasts for everyone to see. Your nipples were hard from all the stimulation going on, causing him to just chuckle in response. Your body was truly his little play thing.

He’s gently when he cups the soft pillowy flesh, and he gropes you gently. His mouth connects with your sensitive neck, and he sucks pretty blue and purple marks into your skin, loving how easy it is to mark you as his.

His thumbs just barely brush against your nipples, causing you to clench around him tightly.

“M-my lord.. please.” You gasp, needing him to fix the aching deep inside you. You couldn’t even be bothered to care about the audience.

“Oh? That sounds more like it, princess.” He praises as he carefully grinds his hips back and forth. His cock is barely moving inside you, but his tip is deliciously rubbing against your g-spot.

Your legs are almost an immediate trembling mess. It’s almost too easy for him. His hands slowly trail to your thighs, and he holds them open for anyone to come and watch your pretty cunt and tummy bulge from his cock.

His movements were so small but precise. You could barely hold your eyes open as you leaned your head back against his shoulder. Your hands were propped against the arms of his throne. You were completely succumbing to the pleasure he was providing.

“Thereee we go.” He drawls in your ear. “Not so mouthy and disobedient now, aren’t ya? I just gotta remind you of whose pussy this is every once in a while, hm?” He taunts in your ear, and you nod your head shamelessly. He’s truly molded you just the way he wants you: a pretty little fuck toy.

Your cunt was practically creating a puddle from the constant stimulation from his cock. Your dripping all over his cock and thighs, but Sukuna doesn’t seem to mind at all. He fills the throne room with soft squelching noises with each shallow thrust as he kisses all along your neck and shoulder.

“I love you.” The words — even while slurred - fall from your mouth clear as day. You’re so hopelessly devoted to him, seeing him as a true deity rather than a king. How could you not feel full of love for him while he’s being so caring with your body?

Sukuna’s hips stutter for a moment, completely caught off guard from your declaration of love. Usually, this wouldn’t bother him because he never felt anything in return, but right now…

He clenches his jaw, and for the first time in a long time, he can feel his heart thump madly in his chest. His arms wrap around tightly, and he fucks himself into you deeper.

He’s been giving you lazy thrusts for long enough. You deserve more. Small grunts escape his throat with each time his hips snap upward, filling you up completely.

“Ohh~ fuck.. r-right there-!” You whine, tilting your head back against his shoulder even more, exposing your throat.

Sukuna thrusts harder, desperate to please his plaything. His eyes are watching your face — so beautifully twisted in pleasure. He immediately feels himself getting close just from looking at you.

“I’d go to the depths of hell and break into heaven for you. It- ngh fuck.. terrifies me just what I’d do for you.” He clumsily grunts into your ear. A love confession.

It’s so raw and full of emotion paired with his deep passionate thrusts — you’re immediately spasming on him, milking his cock with each clench.

With a low growl, he’s spilling into you, shooting thick white ropes of cum deep inside you.

His arms carefully snake around you, hugging you to his body as you both come down from your highs. Your hearts beat as one. Maybe… maybe he could learn how to love.

[enree9h]

NOW SHOWING | psh

PAIRING : bestfriend’sbrother!sunghoon x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS : When your best friend bails on a movie date at the last minute, you find yourself in a cramped movie theatre with her elder brother instead.

WARNINGS : SMUT, pinv, 3 year age gap??, both are in their 20s

wc : 1.9k+

A/N : this turned out longer than I'd imagined it to be, hope its good tho ♡

MDNI

Dimming lights blind your vision, the screen lighting up with advertisements. Your gaze shifts to the figure beside you, to his silhouette against the black of the theatre and you feel heat taint the skin of your cheeks red. 

“The movie’s about to begin”

You feel his breath on your skin, his voice in your ear and you feel yourself go motionless at the sudden closeness. You let a hum out in response, the feeble sound falling over your lips. You glance at his retreating figure, hoping the dark clouds your reaction.

When you feel his knee rub against yours you mentally curse your friend for having booked seats in a cramped theatre like this. What angers you further is how she bailed on you at the last minute, leaving you standing awkwardly at her door all dressed up for the movie she had begged you to accompany her to. The next thing you know she's pushing her brother out of the house and onto you, hoping his presence would somehow make up for her absence. 

Sunghoon watches you squirm in your seat, your knuckles white against the handle of the seat, the movie going unnoticed. His eyes run over the goosebumps on your arms and he is quick to slip out of his jacket. 

“Wha-” 

“You’re shivering”, his tone is nonchalant as he moves to lay it over you. You feel his fingers brush against your skin and feel all the cold being driven out at the contact. He leans over to lay it on you properly and you feel yourself arch into his touch, his scent.

Your mind runs with all the scenarios that have kept you up at night, especially those that involved him. With his eyes rolled back and fingers gripping the skin on your hips as he plunged into you without much thought. You shiver despite the warmth the jacket offers you and lean back into your seat rubbing the inside of your thighs together, the friction leaving you slightly breathless. 

Sunghoon watches you with a glint in his eyes, his gaze begins to cloud with lust. His jacket on your chest rose as you made an effort to even your breathing out, all while Sunghoon’s gaze ran over your clothed body lit by the dim lights of the movie screen.

He's always been good at maintaining a distance, especially with someone who was as close to his sister as you were. however, over the past months, the temptation to close the charged space between the two of you gnawed on his insides each time you walked past him. 

You feel yourself grow frustrated with each passing second, the ache between your legs making your brain go fuzzy. Unable to hold yourself back any longer you hoist yourself up

“I’ll be back. Bathroom break", you mutter your eyes barely meeting Sunghoon’s in the process and attempt to move through the barely available space. 

Sunghoon keeps his eyes on you as you struggle to squeeze yourself past him, your calves brushing against his knees. You feel red stain your cheeks, embarrassment making your heart quicken its pace. You stand blocking Sunghoon’s view of the screen all while his eyes trail down your back, inching lower the longer you stood in front of him, struggling. 

“Could you move any faster?” 

You whip your head sideways at the sound and find a rather tired looking dad with his toddler, waiting to move past you. You mentally curse yourself and every other higher power that carefully constructed this mess. You glance at your seat, hoping to sit back down until the two make their way out but find them standing right in front of it. 

“Uh” you feel sweat rolling down your back, “could you-” you point at the seat and look back to find the guy rolling his eyes at your fumbling state. 

“Let me jus-” You don't get to complete your barely audible sentence when you feel fingers grab your hips, pulling you down in haste. 

“Please” utters Sunghoon, motioning the two to walk through. He pulls you in closer, trying to make as much space as possible. Your thighs rub over his all while his arm rests on it, palm spread over your clothed thigh. You half expect yourself to fade away at that moment, the heat from his thighs seeping into yours. 

“Asshole” his voice is in your ear, whispered and quiet, only for you to hear. A chuckle escapes your lips at his comment but the bulge poking into your ass was what gets a noiseless moan out of you.

“See what you do to me?” 

You try to conceal the gasp that falls out of your lips at that but with your back firmly pressed against Sunghoon’s chest, no sound or movement of yours went unnoticed by him. “Oh God” his words are hardly audible to others, only reaching your ears and you shiver at the scratch in his voice. 

“I know you want this as much as I do, angel” 

You respond by leaning back, your back pressing into him. 

“Say it”, his voice leads you into a daze and you find yourself growing defenseless, wanting to give in to it. 

Your words are whispers uttered in a hurry, your patience running out, your mind going blank,

 “I want it”

And at that Sunghoon is pushing you up, attempting to stand as he grabs your wrist. Within seconds you’re pulled out of the rows of seats and dragged down to the exit, his fingers move from your wrist and slide into the gaps of your fingers in the process. 

He rushes you to the parking lot, the cold hitting you as you step into the night. Running and tripping over nothing as you made your way to his car. 

“Backseat.” 

His gaze grows dark and you see lust swirling in the brown of his eyes. You silently comply, sliding into the backseat within seconds. You keep your eyes on him as he follows you in, shuts the door and hoists you up without much effort until you're straddling him. 

“Do you really want this?” his eyes are sincere yet eager, his fingers that sit on your hips twitch and dig into your skin. You stare back at him, the dull light of the streetlamp illuminating his face and you can't seem to hold back anymore. So you mutter a quick inaudible yes and smash your lips onto his, your fingers circling his nape, gradually moving into the soft black of his hair. 

You don't realize how but minutes later you find yourself sitting half naked on Sunghoon, your palm on his chest, breath coming out as pants as he mirrors your breathing. His clothed bulge sits right beneath your naked and wet core. 

“Hoon please” you whimper, your eyes shut, brows furrowed in frustration. 

The name drives him crazy and he’s attacking your neck with his mouth the very next second, sucking and biting the skin between his lips like there’s no tomorrow. He bucks his hips upwards and you moan at the pressure that builds up inside of you. Your fingers grab his bare shoulders and you move over his bulge shamelessly 

“Just like that baby” he is rolling his eyes all the way to the back, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, voice hoarse with lust. And you speed up the moment his grip on your waist tightens. 

“Need you in me, Hoon” 

He almost jumps out of his seat at that, the words he was so eagerly waiting for, his body reacts to it almost instantly, and he curses at the sight of pre cum staining his jeans. 

“So bad” You don't hold back anymore, your fingers reach for his jeans, unbuttoning them with hurried hands. You're eagerness gets a chuckle out of him “Not funny” you mutter, agitated. 

“How long did you wait for this angel?” 

He slips out of his jeans, his eyes on you the entire time, a smirk graces his lips. You eye his boxers and groan internally, it's so much more than you’d imagined.

“Waited long enough” You look at him with half-laden eyes, your fingers rubbing over his shoulder blades and watch him centre his cock over your hole. You feel time stop the moment you lower yourself onto him, your hole stretching, your walls eager and wet, slipping him right inside. 

“Oh god” Sunghoon almost gives in, the need to flip you and drive into you and your tight hole all night drives him wild but he lets you take the lead this time, knowing there'd be more such nights. You couldn't get enough of him in one night and he wasn't planning on getting enough of you either. 

You move on him with a newfound energy and Sunghoon reaches for your boobs at the sight of them, he had always pictured them to be like this, perfect, just to his liking. He palms your right boob while he up jerks upwards, your moan sweet and loud in his ears the moment the tip of his cock hits a certain spot. 

“You’re doing so good baby” 

His words leave you even more breathless and you move until you feel warmth grow in your abdomen, muscles contracting.

Sunghoon grabs your hips- your body fitting just right in his hands, and takes it upon himself to move the both of you. He thrusts himself into you with such intensity that you are forced to muffle your screams by sinking your teeth into the sweaty skin of his shoulder. 

“Let me hear you, angel” 

And you do, you let him hear every moan that falls out of your lips. You sense the pace of his thrusts quicken and try to keep up with it, your muscles clenching around him, heat pooling between your thighs. 

Sunghoon throws his head back, eyes shut, sweat running down his chest and onto your body. The touch of your skin against his drives him crazy, limbs tangled, windows of his car fogged up. He feels his release nearing, the ungodly grip of his fingers leaves marks on your hips. 

He moves you faster, his hips thrusting upwards until he feels it draw closer and your body grows tense with each passing second. 

“So close baby” 

“Hoon I-” your words end up coming out as gibberish as you sense your mind go static the moment your body lets go. 

Sunghoon growls, a sound coming from the depths of his pleasure as he releases his load into you. You feel it fill you up, your insides coming away hot and wet. Spots cloud your vision as Sunghoon thrusts into you one final time and your thighs lay covered in both of your releases.

You lay against him, your head in the crook of his neck and make an effort to level your breathing as Sunghoon holds you in place, his fingers running down your spine. You feel him turn his head towards you and moments later feel his lips on your temple. “This was the single best night I've ever had” The low rumble of his voice sends vibrations through your body and you smile against his shoulder, nodding in agreement. 

Sunghoon tries to keep his hands to himself but loses them in your warmth, his fingers gently run over your body in an attempt to calm you down.  You find yourself wondering if this was a fever dream, so vivid, so real. And wishing that if it were one, it’d last a little longer because you were not ready to leave the warmth of Sunghoon’s body just yet. 

[flowersforjude]

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem Cousin!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You could not leave him. Not when your very breath was the only thing that kept him tethered to this world. 

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1,433

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Arguing, Angry Jace, Desperate Jace, One curse word, Kind of hurt/comfort. 

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This was requested by @intheheartoftheking. I had a million different ideas for this, but the inspiration wasn’t there for any of them. So, I hope this is to your liking! Also, Varaxs is the name I gave the reader’s dragon! 

masterlist

Sea salt kisses your cheeks as the gentle roll of the tide rushes below you. The familiar scent of your dragon fluttered in the breeze as the Dragon Keepers brought your ivory mount out to you. Varaxs growled deeply, as if mimicking the waves that crashed against the inky cliffs of Dragonstone.

Chills danced up your spine as the cold seeped into your bones beneath your riding clothes. The weather wasn’t what had you so chilled, though.

Nervousness burns through your mind. Has your eyes darting from the dragon pit to the palace looming behind you. Every howl of the wind and every tumbling pebble falling from the rocks, kept you on high alert of discovery. There were more than enough troubles to keep your mind occupied, but should anyone catch you here before you could depart, your plan would be all for nothing. 

The Greens had sent an assassin to take Rhaenyra’s life in the dead of night. Ser Arryk was unsuccessful thanks to his brother’s valiant efforts, which cost him his life. But even if the Queen was unharmed, the usurper must still pay for the cowardly attempt on her life. 

Rhaenyra still hoped for peace, though, and such wishes had her stalling her hand. You, as her stepdaughter and loyal subject, could no longer rationalize doing nothing. 

And so, you were going to King’s Landing.  

You dare not give thought to what could befall you once you’re there. But if death or something worse awaited you, then it would have been worth it fighting for your queen. 

The wind seemed to pick up with his arrival. You didn’t notice until a loud cry of your name sounded over the currents. You spin around and see your betrothed, Jacaerys, dashing towards you. Trepidation and unease flowed through you as you caught sight of his vexed expression. You hadn’t told anyone of your plan, and you thought you had snuck away with no one noticing your absence. But of course, it was Jace who figured it out. 

He’s still in his princely attire, the Targaryen colors displayed proudly. The deep hues of black and red had always complimented him in the most alluring way. His boots kick up clouds of dust and sand as he comes to a stop in front of you. His lips pressed into a hard line, and his jaw clenched in irritation. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword like he always did, but the knuckles were white with the forceful hold he had on it. 

“Jacaerys.” You greet, meeting those serious, dark eyes you’ve lost yourself in more times than you could remember. 

“What are you doing?” He asks simply, but the sharpness of his voice made it clear this was no easy matter. His eyes burned into yours as he stood just inches from you. 

“What do you think I’m doing?” You questioned in return. Deciding to let him reveal what he knew before you told him the whole of your plan. 

He scoffs and swallows thickly. “I am not certain, but I am sure that it is something reckless and not something that my mother approved of.” 

Shifting your weight in the sand, you thought about how best to proceed. “I was anticipating no one finding out until I was already gone.”

“Did you think I would not notice your absence?” He asks incredulously, his brows rising in disbelief. 

You shrugged. “I hoped it would take you a little longer.” A leaden sigh leaves your lips while the restless waters below you rage on. The light reflecting off the water shines like a beacon around Jace, and you have to battle against the longing ache that spreads through your chest. 

“Someone needs to scout King’s Landing. Gather what information we can.” You explain praying to the seven that he’ll understand. 

His eyes widened as exasperation ignited in them. “Have you lost your mind?” He exclaims, shaking his head of dark curls. 

“Jace-” 

“No,” he insists. “You’re not going. You’re not going to fucking King’s Landing, where you very likely will be spotted.” His jaw is tight, and his eyes are just as troublesome as the waters crashing against the rocky shores of the island. 

“Someone has to do something!” You argue back, your raised voice causing Varaxs, waiting in the landing pit, to hiss with displeasure at your growing distress. 

“And if you are captured? Slain? What then?” He sneered, a sudden thickness lingering in his words. 

You lose yourself for a moment. Imagining all the horrors that could come upon you should anyone discover you even somewhat close to the capitol. Aemond held resentment towards you and your sisters for what occurred the night Luke took his eye. And Aegon was a mindless drunk, but no less cruel than his brother. But thinking of all their treachery just made you all the more determined to do everything in your power to see Rhaenyra on the throne. And Jace, good-hearted, compassionate Jace, as the heir.

“I have to do this, Jace. And if I meet my end, then it would be worth it to see Rhaenrya and you reclaim your birthright.”

Desperation colors his features, his sharp expression melting to one of concern and tenderness . Something that stokes the fires of your affection for him. 

“I forbid you.” He finally declares after a long moment of silence. 

“Forbid me?” Your own frustration at last rises to match his. “You are not my king yet. You’re not even my husband yet. So unless you intend to tie me up, I will be leaving now.” 

You turn on your heel to approach your mount. Fully planning on flying off to King’s Landing before his voice breaks. 

“You cannot leave me!” 

You halt in your place, your throat growing tight upon hearing the sheer panic coming from him. Your hands twitch at your sides as the wind dies down enough to allow you to hear the ragged breaths sounding from your betrothed. Hesitantly, not wanting to be met with his distraught expression, you turned back to face him. 

Raw desperation swam in his eyes. His lips, that had welcomed yours in so many devoting kisses, parted with pleading breaths. He closes the short distance between you; his hand captures yours before falling to rest against his heart. Heat flashes through you where your skin touches his. 

When he speaks, his words come out breathlessly. “It is no secret between us my devotion to you.” The strong fingers of his free hand, calloused from all his hours of training, fluttered over your cheek with a touch as light as goose down. “But even before our betrothal, you were my guiding light. In the wake of all the chaos, there was you.” His normally collected voice cracks. He clings to his hold on you as if terrified of you vanishing from his sight forever. “My entire heart craves only a fraction of yours. Even if only a piece of you loved me, that would be plenty, because that would mean at least a part of you was genuinely mine.”

“Jacaerys.” 

His gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “I cannot live in a world where you do not exist,” he professed. The air had been stolen from your lungs upon hearing his words. You were no fool to Jace’s affection; you returned it tenfold. But never had he confessed such adoration to you. 

“I cannot just do nothing.” You whispered, knowing he could hear you. 

He was nodding along with your words. “We will destroy them,” he vowed. “But we will do it together. You cannot not be so careless with your life, Issa jorrāelagon.” 

You do not wish to be labeled as rash or reckless, but the Greens must face retribution. For all the agony they’ve caused. You wish only to help your family win back the heritage that was stolen from them. One day, sit by Jace’s side as he rules with all the kindness and strength you know him to possess.

But he was right. 

You look down at his hand, holding yours to his heart. It beat as fiercely as dragon wings in the sky. Each pulse hammered in each nail of faith you had in him. “Together?” You coaxed meeting his eyes again and seeing determination mingling with his sheer devotion. 

“You and I will take back my mother’s throne.” He pledged, pressing a reverent kiss to your brow. “And one day I will take you as my queen, and we will rule together just as we are meant to.”

This was shorter than I wanted it to be, but I'm just glad I was finally able to finish it!

Issa jorrāelagon; My love

[rin-may-1103]

Badger Day Au (part two)

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"Fourteen?" Aquaman repeats, turning his chair to face Danny. "Fourteen what? Days, weeks, months?"

Flash hissed like he was in pain, "Please don't say it's been fourteen months!"

Danny trailed his eyes away from the ceiling, away from the bothersome crack, and toward the single window in the room. He could just barely make out the Cassiopeia constellation. Its distinct W shape winked and flickered, drawing up a memory from a few loops into this whole mess. Tucker had wanted to comfort him, seeing as Danny had just broken down crying over how frustrated he was with everything.

The Ghost of Cassiopeia. Also known as IC 63, about 550 light years away.

A giant cloud of dust and gas. A nebula. Its ethereal glow reminded people of spirits they would see in haunted houses or fields. So they called it the ghost of Cassiopeia.

But it wasn't a ghost, it's simply hydrogen that's been bombarded with ultraviolet radiation from the nearby star. A blue giant called Gamma Cassiopeiae. It's also known as the center of the constellation. The light from the blue giant makes the majority of the nebula glow a vivid red. The blue around the edges is just light reflected off the dust within.

Tucker had joked that Danny should try and see how far he could get before the loop restarted. See if he could even get past Jupiter. Danny had just snorted and brushed his suggestion off. What was the point when he should be spending his time trying to fix the loop?

About six years in, Danny had given up and tried.

Eight months he had spent flying. He got further and further out into the void, surrounded by darkness and the beautiful stars in the distance to guide him. He never managed to make it past Pluto before he was brought back.

"Years," Danny confessed, his eyes still trained on the faraway stars.

"YEARS!?!" Superman cried, standing up so fast his chair was sent flying into the wall. Danny glanced back up at the crack, watching as it grew just a little larger, plaster dust sprinkling down like freshly fallen snow.

Sighing, Danny sat up and stared at the group. How many times has he had this conversation? How many times was he going to explain what was happening? How many times was he going to wake up in his bed just to restart all over again?

"Years," Danny repeated, "Fourteen years. Like I said, I've tried everything."

They sat in silence for a moment, just digesting his situation. Batman was standing still, his fists clenched tightly. Superman looked faint like he would pass out. Flash looked devastated.

Wonder Woman leaned forward, her brows furled in confusion, "Were you cursed, young one?"

"No, I checked. You checked. Heck, even Zatanna and Constantine have checked. I'm not cursed." Danny grumbled, slumping down to rest his head on the table.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to just curl up and sleep for the next however long. Wanted to hug Jazz and cry about how unfair it all was. Wanted to curl into his mother's side and cling until she made it all better. Hide behind his father until he knew it was safe.

but he couldn't.

Something always happened when he tried. If he stayed home from the very beginning of the day, the league would call him over and over again, convinced he was needed for the case Batman had. They even sent Flash over a few times just to search the city to drag him to the meeting.

(He was happy they hadn't figured out his civilian identity yet, but man was it hard to watch as Flash stuck his face into every nook and cranny around town yelling his name. Danny's lost count of how many times the man got overshadowed.)

If he managed to convince them that he was in a loop, then they found it would be safer for him to stay up on the watchtower. where they could keep an eye on him while searching for a way to break it.

Or, if he managed to convince them he was sick or something and they left him alone, Vlad would start acting up. Jack would call him on the phone to cancel Maddie's meeting with him because Danny was 'sick'. If he convinces Maddie to go and stay home with his dad, then Jack somehow opens the portal long enough for one of his rogues to slip through.

It just never ends. Everything he's tried ends with him having to go ghost and fight. The calmest day he's managed to have ended with Box ghost blasting the portal doors open so he could give him a homemade lunch from his wife, which then led the ghost to find Jack's new weapon box and go ballistic because of his obsession.

after that, he gave up spending time with his parents and focused more on his friends and Jazz. This was equally disastrous.

so, his safest option was to go to the meeting and stay with the league.

Glancing up, Danny watched as the time slowly changed on the clock; six twenty-nine, tick, tick, tick, six thirty.

Sighing, Danny sat up and held his hand out, making eye contact with Batman. He might as well get the day going, no use in wallowing in self-pity. He's done that plenty already.

"I already figured out what the cult wanted to do, we just need to figure out where their next meeting is. I'll fill you guys in on the rest." Danny added, wiggling his fingers in the hope it would make Batman move faster.

Batman sighed and handed him the folder. Once Danny had the folder, Batman sat down to listen to his report intently.

Flipping the file open, Danny grabbed the first page and showed it to the group, ignoring how a copy showed up on the big screen behind Batman. (again, why use paper if he was just going to project it?)

"This is the result of the cult's last meeting, two weeks ago. as you can see, the ground has been scorched and the ritual circle permanently carved into the cement." Tossing the paper and ignoring it as Flash scrambled to catch it, Danny grabbed the next couple of pages.

Holding up the seventy missing person reports, Danny placed them on the table and separated them into four different piles. "After some digging, Batman was able to figure out the pattern between the missing people. This group," Danny pointed to the one on the left, "consists of organ donors who were anemic."

pointing to the pile on the right, Danny continued, "This group is made up of meta-humans who have powers related to the elements. they also all happen to have more than one piercing, though Batman didn't really figure out if that had an impact on whether they were chosen or not..."

Pointing to the northern pile, Danny separated the top seven pages. "while everyone in this pile has some relation to an ancient and powerful witch from the 1500s, these seven are the only ones who still share her 'family' name. I'm not sure exactly how this affects the cult's motives, Batman hadn't shared that with me in all the loops so far."

Danny glared at Batman in annoyance, he didn't care if there was a good reason or not. Without fail, in each loop that Danny's made it through where Batman makes the connection; he would refuse to tell Danny about it.

Rolling his eyes at Batman's unwavering apathy, Danny continued, "The last pile consists of people who have been dead at some point in their lives. whether it be just a few seconds or a few weeks."

passing the reports around, Danny pulled the next page from the file. "Flash and Constantine were able to connect the past locations of the cult gatherings. Constantine figured out there was a specific magic signature that he could follow, so he had Flash drag him around the world to map the locations."

tapping the table, Danny selected the world map. Glancing at the paper he had pulled out, Danny marked the places with a red dot. Then he marked the places Constantine found in blue. Looking up, Danny found the league staring at him.

"What?" Danny huffed, shoving the hologram away from him. Batman grabbed it and started to examine it.

"So, do we need Constantine for this?" Green Lantern asks, scratching his head.

Shrugging, Danny tossed the folder over to Wonder Woman. "You can call him if you want, but he won't get here until noon. He's in the house of mystery dealing with a pixie infestation."

"pixie infestation?" Superman asks, turning to look over to Zatanna. Zatanna reached into her jacket and handed him a pamphlet, not turning away from watching Danny with curious eyes.

"Anyway, like I was saying. the cult's been going around taking all these people and using them in their rituals."

"you said you knew what they were trying to do, what was it?" Batman asked with a noticeable frown.

Sighing, Danny pinched his nose. "they've been trying to summon Pariah Dark."

"The ghost king!?!?" Zatanna squawked, slamming her hands onto the table.

"yeah, that bastard," Danny grumbled, rubbing his face. The cult hadn't been successful for all fourteen years now, so Danny wasn't too worried about it. But still... If something, anything really, changed just the slightest; would they succeed? Would they drag Prariah out of his sarcophagus and let him lose on the living?

Danny's already had to face him once, he didn't know if he could do it again. The Fenton ecto-skeleton suit had been ruined last time, to the point dad hadn't even tried to fix it.

"Bastard?" Aquaman repeated, eyes narrowed, "You speak as if you've met him before."

"I have," Danny admitted, "and I will again if we don't do something about the cult." What if this is the loop the cult succeeded? what if it's the next one, or the one after that? could Danny even do anything to prevent it?

Zatara sat down with a heavy thump, her eyes widening in shock. Danny lifted his brow, wondering what was wrong with her. She hadn't acted like this any other time? what was different? had he said something he hadn't last time? hmm, something to think about later.

"back to the case," Danny shrugged, turning to gesture at the hologram of the world. "we were able to narrow down the cult's next location to about seven hundred places. I was able to check off about six hundred and thirty these last few loops. That leaves about seventy places they could be."

Danny used a yellow dot to select the seventy places he still needed to check.

"um," Flash started, nervously glancing between Danny and the globe. "you just highlighted the whole grand cannon and all of Alaska... and the Himalayas.... and the-"

"Yep," Danny cut in, "Like I said, I checked off all the others. These are the last seventy I still need to check. I haven't before because it's a lot of ground to cover. I was hoping I'd catch a break and find the cult before I had to check all those places, but nope. The fruitloops just had to make it difficult.

"oh," Flash winced, "do, do you want me to check them out?"

sighing, Danny leaned back in his chair, "I would love to have you check them out, but you need a magic user who knows what they're looking for to go with you. it's why we haven't found them yet, it's taking forever."

"Oh," was the only response he got.

"you know what we are looking for?" Zatara asks, finally getting over whatever had surprised her.

"yeah, it's hard to explain. I'll have to bring you or the others to a previous place and show you."

"hmm, alright. after the meeting, why don't you bring me so that at least one more person can help start looking, until, john is freed up at noon?" she suggests, tilting her head to the side.

"sounds good with me," Danny shrugged. it's not like it'll hurt to have her looking around, heck, they might even get lucky and she'll find them.

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