#This image inspired some positively filthy thoughts

[artfulusername]

The following picture of Oscar Isaac as Dr. Frankenstein in Guillermo del Toro's upcoming Frankenstein adaptation was released this morning.

You're welcome.

(Source: Film Crave on Bluesky.)

[spenciebabie]

This is a request from @mggbler! Thanks for asking, I loved writing this, I hope you like it!

The blurb was written for this gif.

The Girl Next Door

Spencer and his neighbor have been friends since he moved in. Just friends, so why was he feeling so jealous?

A/N: I got super carried away with this one, I really don’t think I’m capable of writing something under 1000 words. But I was inspired so what are you gonna do

Warnings: smut, nothing too explicit, masturbation (male and female), implied sex, kissing

Words: 1.6k

They’d been friends since the day Spencer moved into the building. She knew the place next door had been on the market for a while and was beyond excited to find out it was another person her own age moving in. Their building was packed with people who’d lived there since the place was built. Not that she hadn’t made friends with them too, it was just nice to have some fresh blood.

She’d brought over a bottle of wine and baked a plate of cookies to welcome him to the building. And his heart instantly swelled with gratitude. They became fast friends, Spencer had never had many of those, and he certainly hadn’t had many outside of work, so he welcomed the connection with open arms.

She was so easy to talk to that it never felt like a burden, or even effort to hang out with her. It always felt simple, and it always felt good.

Until about a year ago. Something shifted and he couldn’t really pinpoint when exactly it happened but I did. Spencer knew she was pretty, she had been from that first day she popped into his doorframe. But Spencer didn’t only care about pretty, he wasn’t the type of person to fall in love with the way someone looked, he fell in love with personality first.

He thinks it might’ve been last November, when he came home from a particularly bad case at 3am and she was outside his door at 3:05. Sleep in her eyes still in her pajamas, when she heard sounds coming from the hall she knew it was him, and something in her knew he needed company. And he realized that he needed her, that he loved her. But that love complicated things.

——

Their apartments are mirror images of each other, which was jarring at first, to walk into a backwards version of your own apartment, but the decorations are all a little different. It was just funny at first but since November it had become a problem.

Because of the layout, their bedrooms backed onto one another, worse still, the headboards of each of their beds were right up against the same paper thin wall.

This hadn’t been a real problem before but since he’d realized his feelings, and since she’d started going on more dates, it was starting to grate on Spencer.

Every time she left for a date he’d have a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t sleep because he’d sit up waiting, listening intently for the sound of her coming in from the date, hoping desperately that she was alone.

And on the occasions that she was he’d feel relief, and then he’d feel horrible for feeling relieved that she’d had a bad time. But on the occasions that she wasn’t alone he’d feel even worse.

He hated the way he could hear her gentle moans, the way she’d cry out a muffled name as her headboard rocked against their shared wall. He loved the noises she made, more than anything, but he hated the noises that came from the other person in there with her. The person that was making her feel that way.

Sometimes he’d get lucky and it would be over quickly. Other times he’d get unlucky and he’d wake up to the same perfect moans the following morning.

Most of the time if he heard it starting he’d just get up and sleep on the couch.

Those paper thin walls could be a blessing at other times. On the occasions that he knew she didn’t have a date, that she was alone in her room. And he’d hear those same beautiful, filthy sounds. Sometimes he could hear the gentle hum of her vibrator, other times he wouldn’t, but the outcome would be the same. She’d moan and cry and if he was lucky, and she was particularly loud, he could sometimes hear her heavy panting.

On those occasions he’d let his own hand drift under the covers and into his boxers. He’d touch himself, stroking along his hard length while he listened. Screwing his eyes shut so that he could picture what might be happening on the other side of the wall, what was she wearing, or not wearing, what position was she lying in, how many fingers was she using, or did she have other toys. And more than anything, he wondered what she was picturing herself.

But when that happened he’d feel terrible almost immediately afterwards. It felt like an invasion of privacy but he really couldn’t help himself any more.

— —

When he arrives home that evening he’s barely got time to leave his satchel down before there’s a knock at his door. He knows who it is, it couldn’t be anyone else.

When he opens it she’s not dressed like she usually is. She’s in a little red dress. The kind with the tiny little straps that held it up, and the tie that wraps it snug around her waist. It cuts off at the mid thigh and he has to force himself to stop looking.

That’s when his eyes land on the bottle of wine in her hand and for a second he feels excited. She was coming over here dressed like that to see him!

“Have you got an corkscrew?” is the first thing she says, “I can’t find mine?”

He nods and steps aside to let her in, while he goes to rummage in the kitchen for his opener. She follows him to the kitchen and leans herself against the countertop.

When he finds it he hands it to her and she pops open the cork.

“Thanks Spence, you’re a lifesaver” she hands it back to him, and he roots through the cupboard for some glasses.

“You want a glass?” She asks, pouring her own and he nods, so she fills one up for him too.

Before he can ask what the occasion is she volunteers the information herself.

“I’ve got a date in like 20 minutes and I’m too nervous, I thought I’d have a drink to calm down but then I couldn’t find my corkscrew and I just made myself more nervous looking for it” she rushes out with a light laugh.

“Oh, cool” he says, and he tries desperately to keep his emotions under control but his heart felt like it was physically aching.

“I should actually head back in there and get ready, I gotta leave soon. You can keep the rest of that bottle, I’ll return the glass later!” She calls out as she wanders back towards his door. “Bye Spence”

“Good luck” he calls down the hall after her, and he wishes he meant it.

— —

Two hours go by and he’s mentally preparing himself for a night spent on the couch when there’s a light knock at his door.

It’s Y/N, and she looks as perfect as she did earlier, and something in him notices that her lipstick is still completely intact. She’s holding his wine glass from earlier and she hands it out to him.

“Here, thanks, but it didn’t do me much good” she frowns a little, and he yet again feels awful that it brings him so much relief.

“Do you wanna come in?” He asks, and he knows he shouldn’t.

“Yeah okay, another glass might help me now” she chuckles and she takes the wine glass back from him.

They sit next to each other on the couch and finish off the bottle together. She always feels so at ease in Spencer’s apartment. Maybe it’s because it was just like her own. But really she knew it was because he lived there, he just made her feel so comfortable, so happy, so loved.

And she also knew that’s why none of her dates had ever gotten a second, and why her date this evening had gone so badly.

None of them made her feel the way that Spencer did. None of them looked at her the way his eyes were looking at her now. And she knew she wouldn’t feel anything close to the love she felt for Spencer for anyone else.

“Spence?” She asks, placing her glass back on the coffee table, “do you ever think about us?”

“Us?” He asks, unsure

“Yeah” she pauses and takes in a deep breath, “Like how we get on so well, and how long we’ve known each other?”

“I mean— I guess so? Why?” He doesn’t want to presume anything about the direction of her train of thought but his heart is absolutely pounding.

“Well, I think what I’m getting at is, why haven’t you done this yet?”

“Done wh—” before he can finish the question her lips are on his. Soft and sweet, and they they taste like red wine, and it’s more perfect than he ever could’ve imagined.

When she pulls back she’s terrified that she’s misread the situation and ruined their friendship forever.

But he’s just staring at her with nothing but pure adoration.

“I didn’t know— I didn’t think— you like me?” He asks, his voice is so soft and sweet.

“I love you Spence” she says it with such conviction and his heart almost bursts in his chest.

“I love you too” he rushes out and then his mouth is on hers again.

This time it’s more feverish, hungry and excited to make up for lost time.

She leans over closer to him and he pulls her tighter against him, placing his hand on the underside of her bare thigh. He can’t believe this is really happening.

Moving against him, her hands splayed out against his chest she pulls back for a moment and looks down at him with half lidded eyes.

“Bedroom?”

[lavishedinjimin]

all the good girls go to hell

— synopsis: The Angels made a deal with Jeon Jungkook, the son of Lucifer, to help them bring Y/n back to her good, prim and proper self. Even though Jungkook grants the atrocious plan, he leaves a lesson that no one should give their trust to a wicked devil like him.

↳ pairing: jungkook x f. reader

↳ genre: smut, very slight angst if you squint hard enough

↳ rating: m/18+

↳ word count: 10k

↳ warnings: religious themes, heaven and hell, angels, devils (this fic is not a correct representation of these figures and is purely fictional), alcohol intake, cursing, hard dom jk, daddy! jk, fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, squirting, unprotected sex, breathplay, spanking, face fucking, filthy dirty talk, rough sex, jungkook and his demon cock ehe

a/n: title is inspired by billie eilish’s song all the good girls go to hell. her title inspired me to write this fic! please ignore if you find any errors <3

“You’re not good enough.” 

“You look so pathetic, really.”

“Can you at least try to look hot?” 

“This is why no one likes you.” 

These words will forever haunt you until the day you die. 

It wasn’t your fault that you were raised very strictly, your overly-protective parents treating you like some kind of rare treasure that no one, no man, can touch. The fact that your parents still had to drive you home from school even at an age like this always irritated you to the brim of your existence. So now you can’t even have the freedom, the life of a normal young girl can have. 

Being raised strictly with a heavy-handed family – not to mention religious, too – has taken a toll on your mental health. There’s always the feeling of pressure wherever you go and whatever you do. The fear of not succeeding and disappointing your mom and dad is the worst feeling, like the Devil punching your gut repeatedly, as many times as he likes. 

Plus, some students at your school know you for your lack of “personality”, the boring one, the killjoy. You can’t even refute because it was all true. You never experienced fun, parties, how to have interesting conversations, how to interact with a large crowd, all because of your parents being so uptight in you. 

“Y/n!” The high-pitched voice of your mother calls from downstairs, and you were quick to scurry outside your room and find where she was sitting on the couch. “Yes, mom?” You say. 

She was dressed in a royal-blue dress that goes up to her knees, her hair fixed perfectly and the hairspray is clearly doing a great job of keeping her updo in place. She grabs her purse while your dad walks into view, dressed up in a neat suit. “We’re leaving for our business trip, Y/n. Didn’t I tell you that?” 

“Ah.” You sort of forgot about that. 

Quickly nodding your head, you force a fake smile that you know all too well, “Yes.” 

She gives you a weird glance before she fixes her makeup in a mirror, and your dad decides to continue for her. “We’ve hired a nanny to look after you, so that you won’t go out and about going behind our backs—”

“But dad! I really don’t need someone to babysit me,” You scoff. You weren’t a child anymore, what are they thinking! “I’m an adult. I can handle myself. Don’t you trust me?” 

Trust. Something they don’t have with you, whether they admit it or not. 

Your dad just sighs deeply and starts to walk closer to you. He places a hand on your shoulder as he looks straight into your eyes, giving you an authoritarian look. “Y/n, just do as you’re told and be a good daughter.” 

“I’ve always been one,” you scorn. 

“A good daughter doesn’t talk back.” Your mother retorts. 

This is why you can never argue with them. They never let you speak your own opinion or have your own voice. 

Your parents left exactly at 5 PM as they went on their flight to Madrid, leaving the house all to yourself only for tonight.

It was the next day, and you were sitting on the dining table, eating your cereal peacefully as you watched Netflix on your phone – until the doorbell rings. 

You stand up and quickly make your way to the front door, pouting when you already know that it is the person that was supposed to look after you. 

This is ridiculous. 

“Hello!” A bright, short middle aged woman appears standing on the doorway, her bright energy startling you. “Y/n! I’m May, nice to meet you!” She lifts her hand in front for a handshake, and you chuckle nervously, accepting it. “I’m here to look after you for ten days, hm?” 

“Uh, ah, yeah. C-Come in!” You tried to sound as positive and energized as you could to match her own energy, but you couldn’t. You step aside to let her in, pulling her luggage with her and she immediately takes up the design of the house. She was nodding her head, her arms crossed together while you accompanied her little journeys throughout the whole ground floor. You found her weird. 

“Uh, come follow me, my dad says you’ll be staying here at the guest room —” 

“Wonderful! I thought I was sleeping on the couch!” She claps her hands, excited that she has her own room. 

You look at her with big, shocked eyes, yet you can’t say anything. 

“O-Okay…” you mumbled, “Here,” you helped her open the door and she immediately set her things up. “May?” 

“Yes, my dear?” She stops unpacking her bags to look up at you. “I’ll be at the kitchen, okay? If y-you wanna ask anything, I’m right over there.” 

“Ah, that’s okay, Y/n. Your mother told me everything I need to know. Your bedtime is at eight and no midnight snacks!” 

Your heart drops down to the floor as you immediately encountered a wave of emotions. Why did it matter?! Why did your mom had to apply all these stupid rules when she’s not even around? You thought at the start that you’ll have some kind of freedom when your parents aren’t here, thinking that your nanny might be easier, but perhaps not. 

“Okay.” You say simply. 

How else can you prove to people that you can be better? You're sick of everyone seeing you as the boring one, but your parents were the only thing that was keeping you from having fun. So you decide to be a little risky. 

Step one: Sneak out the house. 

Isn't that what people your age do? Usually they sneak out to party, to go hang out with their friends and have the time of their life. But you had none, no ‘best friend’, but a couple of lunch friends here and there. 

“I should try clubbing.” You mumble to yourself as you sit down on the plush comfort of your mattress. Until you hear your phone chimes, signalling a text. You grab your phone from the bedside table and frown when you see who the text was from. 

Mom: Remember to go to church later, Y/n. 

You didn't reply, instead, it got you thinking. 

Nothing will happen if you skip church, right? You've always attended Mass every Sunday with your parents, so there's absolutely nothing wrong with skipping at least once.

Besides, you need to plot your plans for tonight!

~

“What is this girl doing?” Armaros says in a deep whisper, his well-shaped eyebrows furrowing deeply while he watches Y/n on her phone, laying down on her bed as if church isn't just five minutes away from starting. 

Armaros rushes to the other side of the room to get a better view of her human who lays on her stomach, a white wisp of smoke trailing behind him. He shakes his head, crossing his arms together in front of his chest. “Y/n, Y/n,” he tuts, “What are you doing?!” 

He decides to step forward and reaches forward for his hand to caress the crown of your head. He chuckles when he sees your eyes expand in a quick second, your body abruptly sitting up straight from the tingling feeling in your neck. Your hairs stand up, a chill running down your spine. 

This was Armaros’ way of mustering his presence onto you. Your dad always taught that whenever you suddenly feel a chilling sensation out of nowhere, it means that your guardian angel is there with you and trying to send you a message. 

And you clearly know what he's trying to say. 

There was a slight feeling of guilt – uneasiness, even. But no. You've already decided that you weren't going to follow your old routine. 

Armaros’ jaw drops when you don't move from your position on the bed, only making yourself comfortable even further. ”Don’t you dare skip church...” he slowly whispers to himself. But he quickly shakes his head side to side, trying to be optimistic, “It's just one time. Just one time.” 

Time passes by faster than you think, you sink your teeth down on your bottom lip, chewing on it as you try to Google clubs near you. It was ridiculous, feeling so overwhelmed from all of the options the Internet is showing you. 

There was a generous list of bars and clubs with different ratings. It was a humane decision to choose the best one, right? So you went for a nightclub called ‘Soap Seoul’. Although, you feel your stomach churn when you scroll through the images attached to it; seeing all of the strange blue and red LED lights, big and tight crowds, and an HD picture of their bar. The bar was long and almost occupied the width of the whole club. You don't even know if you can stand such a place like that. 

But no. You can't back out now! You had to show yourself and to others that you can have some fun too. 

~ 

The club opens tonight at 8 pm, letting yourself have two hours to prepare. Rummaging through your garments of clothing, you try to find an appropriate outfit.

“I have nothing!” you whined, eyebrows furrowing in dismay. All you had were simple t-shirts and countless skinny jeans and leggings. Your dresses were almost knee-length and suitable for church – not for a nightclub! 

Armaros stands at a distance, shaking his head at you. 

Until, you heard a loud knock on the door, “Y/n!” May's voice shouts from the other side of the room, “Dinner's ready!” 

Oh no. 

Quickly opening the door, you stared at her with big, worried eyes. “May! I-uhh, I-I’m not gonna stay for dinner…” you mumbled, looking at the ground. 

“Oh, why is that?” she asks, a faint sad tone in her voice. You felt so sad and regretful that you didn't say anything to her because she already cooked your dinner. 

“I-I have plans for tonight,” you hold your hands behind your back, slightly getting embarrassed. 

“Are you going out with your friends?”

“Y-Yeah!” You lie. You've never lied before. 

“Ah, I understand. Have you told your mom?” 

She doesn't have to know. 

“Yup.” 

And there it was again, the chills in your neck appeared while your arm and leg hairs stood up. Armaros touches your scalp, desperate to seek your attention and bring you back to your old, good self. The angel didn't like that you were lying, for he was perpetually accustomed to your good deeds. It was making him anxious for what's about to come. 

But you ignored his message. May nods when you told her that she can have the food to herself. 

You feel a pang of guilt rush through your body when you shut the door behind you, your heartbeat suddenly racing faster. The nervousness in you made your head hurt. Is this the right thing to do? No. It wasn't. But you had to show people that you can be different. Will it be worth it? Of course. 

Thankfully, you spot a white dress that you've never worn before. It was a gift from your cousins that was supposed to be another addition to your collection of church dresses but it was too short for your liking. 

“Hm, maybe this will work…” you quietly mumble to yourself.

You tried the piece of clothing on, carefully examining your reflection in the full-length mirror. The hem of the skirt falls right above your mid-thigh, too high for your usual comfort but for the sake of dressing up for a nightclub — there was no problem. The dress was snug, hugging your body so that it accentuates your curves.

The dress was plain white and was relatively simple. You don't really know what people usually wear for nightclubs but you were certain that dresses were a part of the code. 

You looked for your black three-inch heel that you last wore during your highschool graduation, slipping it in carefully. Doing a little bit of makeup and applying a thin layer of lip gloss, you grabbed a purse and walked out of your room. 

“May, please don't wait for me, okay?” you say after walking past her. 

“W-Wait, I'm supposed to–”

“It's okay. I'll be okay.”

“She's not gonna be okay!” Armaros declares, kneeling on one knee before Archangel Michael – the protector and the spiritual warrior, as he mentions Y/n's recent mischiefs.

After you've been to the nightclub the first day, you've never stopped. You became addicted. 

Sometimes you don't even tell May that you're going out, you just sneak out of the window and let May worry about you. You've happened to know how to drink as you get wasted every single night, hanging around with people that you don't know, people that are a bad influence on your good side. These past few days had you acting up like you’ve never before. You longed for alcohol and the feeling of it numbing your nerves, and there’s not a day where you didn’t get drunk.

Armaros’ power wasn't enough to stop you. Every single day he's been drying his best to send signals, to make you feel certain ways and speak to your consciousness that what you are doing is by far dangerous and wrong. But you never listened. 

You've skipped church, stopped talking to God, ignoring your parents’ phone calls, not doing your homework just because you're busy either getting drunk or making out with someone at the club. It's like you have been addicted to misbehaving. 

But for you, you thought you’re doing the right thing. 

“Armaros, are you doubting your powers?” Archangel Michael replies, running his fingertips along the sharp blade of his sword. 

“N-No, but, nothing seems to work. She's been ignoring my calls for almost two weeks. I just want the best for her.” Armaros’ voice fades at the end of his sentence. He was speaking with such sincerity because he really cares for Y/n. He truly loves her. “Why is she doing this?” He asks for help.

“Because, my dear, she's trying to prove something she's not for other people.”

“What?” 

Archangel Michael laughs quietly, staring at him endearingly. He points his sword at him, “She obviously tries to be immoral to fit in. She's rarely praying to God like she used to, rarely respecting the people around her. Ever since humans bullied Y/n for being herself – she starts to change. But the question is…”

He walks around Armaros, his eyes never leaving his. “Is this making her happy?” 

Armaros lowers his head and shakes his head. “I don’t know.” 

The Archangel grins and returns his sword back on the scabbard attached to his belt. 

“If I can't warn her to stop, then who else can?” The angel asks. 

Michael lifts an eyebrow up, crossing his arms together as he stands right in front of him. His mouth draws into a slow smirk, a hint of playfulness in his eyes as if a lightbulb appeared on top of his head. 

“You wanna have some fun, Armaros?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Stand up, stand up.” Armaros quickly obeys his superior’s command. The Archangel places a hand on his right shoulder, preparing to speak. 

“I have an idea. We call Jeon Jungkook up and–” 

“No! Absolutely not! I will not allow Y/n to come face to face with the son of Lucifer!” Armaros bellows, instinctively pushes Michael's hand away from him. 

“Armaros! It's just an idea!” Michael chuckles, spreading his arms to the side as he shakes his head. “And besides, I have to ask permission from our Highness anyway.” 

“And what will he do? Taunt her? Provoke Y/n to be more sinful?” Y/n's guardian angel asks, referring to Jungkook. “We both know how manipulative and cunning he can be!”

“No, no. We'll make a deal with him, of course! No devil will do anything without receiving something in return.” 

“This idea of yours, not to be rude, but is really out of this world.”

Archangel Michael snorts from the out of the blue pun. 

“Do not be afraid. If our Lord agrees to our plan, I'll be watching. I always will. Give me your trust, Armaros.”

Armaros sighs deeply, yet smiles up at him right after. “Okay, I trust you.” 

“May, stop it,” you mutter angrily, pulling your arm away from her hold. May tries to block your way from going outside the house but you abruptly push her to the side. 

“Y/n! Your mom told you that–” 

“Told me what?! That I’m being independent? Unruly? That I should just stay home? I don’t give a fuck anymore, May. I’d rather hang out with friends than stay here and do nothing!” You bark at her. She was smaller than you and you were definitely giving off that intimidating vibes that you wanted to show. She isn’t the one wearing the pants in this house. You are. 

“Y/n, I will not tolerate this behavior!” May snaps, eyes glaring at you with her hands balled up into fists on her sides. 

Rolling your eyes, you let out a sour chuckle, “You sound like my mom.” 

May sighs deeply, the tiredness in her voice evident, “I’m just trying to keep you safe, Y/n. Just listen to me.” 

“I’m an adult. I can keep myself safe. Now, let me go and don’t wait for me.” 

“Y/n!” 

“Bye May! Have a nice sleep!” 

“Y/n! Where the fuck are you?!” Emilia, one of the new friends you've met no longer than three days ago shouts through the phone as loud, blazing music muffled her voice. “Sophia and I are waiting for you! Get your ass over here!”

“I'm almost there, save me a drink already!” you giggle, looking out from the taxi’s window. 

Sophia snatches the phone out of Emilia’s hand to speak to you, “Y/n, you still remember the bet we made, right?” 

“Of course! It's not a huge deal, c'mon now.” You roll your eyes, faking a laugh. 

“We'll see!” Emilia giggles. 

The driver drops you in front of the nightclub and you throw him a couple of dollars. Stepping out of the car, your high heels clicking on the cement. Upon entering the place, you were immediately greeted with your friends. They were both wearing a tight dress – glittery red and silver – whilst you wore a black one that reached down to your middle thigh. You bought the dress only a day ago, special thanks to your Amazon Prime account . 

“Hey! Here, drink this,” Sophia hands you a single malt whiskey and you swiftly drown it down your throat without any problem. You reminisce back to your first day where you can’t even take a sip of beer without gagging. Now look where you are. 

“Ahh fuck, that tastes good,” you mumble through gritted teeth. 

“Why are you late tonight, Y/n?” Emilia asks as she leads you to the bar to order more alcohol. Her high pitched voice mixing with the loud music,”You know it's always 9 PM. Sharp.” 

You breathe out heavily as you watch Sophia pour three shots of straight vodka into a shot glass. She distributes the beverage to the two of you. 

“Well, uh–” 

“What?” Emilia snaps.

“I couldn't find a goddamn cab, that's why!” you hide your falseness with laughter, hoping they won't sense your lie. 

“Alright anyway, let’s go get wasted and you, Y/n – will be our first player.” Emilia smirks as she crosses her arms together. She analyzes your body, eyeing you up and down. You didn’t like it, and you felt worried. 

Your eyebrows furrow, confused and slightly offended, “What, why me?” You take a sip of your newly-ordered beer, trying to get comfortable on the plush-covered stool. 

“Because,” Sophia answers for her, “we need to know your… capacities.” 

You snort, “Capacities of what? My capacity of having to get into a m-man’s bed? Pffft… easy!” 

Sophia’s forehead furrows, glancing at Emilia with a knowing look before focusing her attention back to you. “Sure. Anyway, let’s have fun first and then…” she leans closer to you, her face inches away from yours. You feel your face redden in embarrassment, “And then you can choose your man.” 

It wasn’t that bad. It isn’t bad dancing around the dance floor, beer in hand, as you danced all your worries away. Emilia and Sophia were out there – somewhere, but you didn’t care about them at this moment. You let your body go with the beat of the loud EDM music, holding your hands up in the air as you whipped your head left to right. You had a huge smile on your face, the alcohol kicking in like it was meant for your body to consume. 

Sweaty bodies were bumping each other from left and right, and you for sure stepped on someone’s toe with your pumps. Nevertheless, you didn’t care. You were having your fun. 

It was until the song changed from upbeat to a more sensual, heart-pumping song from the loud bass. As if there was a switch inside you, you turned into a sultry mess. 

Wasted. You were wasted like hell. 

Your eyes turn into little slits as you look around the dance floor to try and find someone to play with. Taking a huge sip of your drink, your throat burns yet you tried to ignore it. 

“Ah-hah!” you giggle, walking – or should we say, stumbling – towards a guy with black hair parted in the middle, nicely dressed in a black button up tucked in some skinny jeans. The man locks eyes with you, licking his plump lips as his eyes rake your body. 

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he smirks, making you blush in red as he holds your waist and tugs you closer to him. The song in the background was helping you a lot to get into that seductive, sexy mood that you planned to have. 

“Hey,” you smile up at him, “I’m Y/n.” 

“What a pretty name for a pretty lady.” He starts swaying your body to the beat, going along with you. “I’m Seokjin. Nice to meet you.” 

Seokjin tugs your body closer until he holds the back of your head with one hand, making you look deep into his dark eyes. “Y-You’re a new face,” you slur, “You don’t belong here.” 

Unexpectedly, your eyes grow big when Seokjin throws his head back as he laughs almost hysterically. “What?” you question. 

The man slightly leans down until his face draws near to yours, and you can immediately smell the alcohol in his breath. You didn’t judge though, you probably had beer-breath too. 

“Baby girl…” Seokjin suddenly speaks deeply, making your heart jump from the sudden change in his voice. There was a sultry look in his eyes that made it hard for you to keep eye contact. “Baby it’s you who doesn’t seem to belong. You don’t know who I am.” 

“Well y-you don’t know me e-either!” You try to retaliate, although it was messed up with your embarrassing stuttering.  

“You really wanna know?” he whispers, his lips right against your lips, almost touching yours. You couldn’t breathe properly, wanting to pull away but his intoxicating scent was forcing you to him. 

You nod your head, not trusting your voice. 

“I own this place, baby.” 

You almost tossed your cup right across the room from his sudden confession, totally not expecting such a young-looking man to own such a place like this. Your eyes expand, body staying still. 

’Wait! Be sexy… be sexy…’ you thought to yourself after an awkward five seconds of silence. 

You decide to chuckle, biting your bottom lip slowly as you draw yourself nearer to him. He lifts a brow up in surprise, wrapping his arms around your hips and he closes the distance between the two of you. 

“Really? Well then,” you mutter, “I want you to own me too.” 

“Oh, finally. Someone straightforward.” 

“Well I – oh!” Seokjin takes you by surprise when he quickly tugs your arm and leads you to the second floor of the club. You haven’t been in this area before, looking so luxurious and well decorated. Although what shocks you is the series of doors that passes through a long, wide hallway. 

“Seok...Seokjin,” you whisper, but he looks at you with a smirk, a playful glint in his eyes. 

“C’mon baby,” he opens a door and walks you inside, locking it behind him. “Let’s have a little fun.” 

Let’s have a little fun. 

Yeah. I should. 

This is fun, right? 

Before you can even process things, Seokjin shoves your body to a wall as his hands start to wander down your sides. With flushed cheeks, you look at him like you’ve just seen a ghost but he clearly doesn’t mind, grinding his hips into yours. 

“Mmm, what a cute babe I have in front of me,” he groans, leaning forward to pepper wet, gentle kisses all over your neck and down to your shoulders. 

Something feels off. 

“Y/n, right?” he asks, his forehead furrows and you nod. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart starts to rapidly pump inside your chest, feeling as if it’ll burst at any minute. An uncomfortable feeling starts to overwhelm your system, sensing your palms getting sweaty. You can’t look at his eyes, looking anywhere but him. 

“Uh, o-okay,” you straighten your back as you try your best to look confident. 

This is the perfect opportunity to tell your friends. Having sex with someone like him will absolutely impress Emilia and Sophia. 

Seokjin chuckles, shrugging, “Alright then.” And without any warning, he throws you on the bed and he quickly hovers above your body. 

“Mmph–!” he immediately presses his lips into yours before you can even react to everything that had just happened. He caresses your cheeks with both hands, his lips moving softly with yours. You try your best to keep up with him and his pace, but you can’t. There was something stopping you from giving him your all. Seokjin grunts nevertheless, humping you. 

Seokjin’s right hand snakes down to grab the hem of your dress as he teasingly pulls the fabric up, then lets it snap back down. There was a weird feeling inside your stomach, and it did not feel good at all. 

His hand slowly starts creeping up your leg, and that’s where you couldn’t hold it back. 

“Mmm, n-no,” you mewl, pushing him away from you. Seokjin stares down at you with a frown, head tilted to the side. 

“Y/n?” 

Rapid heart rate, the back of your neck sweating, and chills all over your body occur all at the same time. You were panicking. 

“I-I…” immediately you stand up from the bed, hiking your stupid short dress down as much as you can. “S-Sorry,” furiously shaking your head from side to side, you stumble your way to the door. 

“Y/n, wait!” Seokjin yells, confused yet he felt sorry at the same time. “Let’s talk about it!” 

“No,” you whisper. You can’t do this anymore. There was no energy left in your body to talk, to process what just happened, to stand in this fucking club. Home. All you were thinking about was going home. 

You twist the doorknob open, trying to catch your breath as much as you can but you feel like you were going to pass out any minute. Making your way down the stairs, you run as fast as you can towards the exit of the nightclub yet a person catches your arm. 

“Y/n!” Your eyes widen when Emilia and Sophia stop you, observing your state. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“No…” you breathe tirelessly, “c-can’t do it…” 

“You failed?” Emilia snaps as she leans her body on one hip, resting her hands there. She looks at you with disgust, “But we saw the guy that you’re with! He was hot!” 

Sophia snorts, smirking as she stares at you sourly, “Proves our point. You’re nothing, Y/n. You had such an easy job, the guy’s already all over you and you just had to throw him? Where is he, let me get with him myself.” Sophia struts away, heels clicking as she flips her long hair over her shoulder, leaving you with Emilia. 

“What can I say, Y/n,” she smiles menacingly, the corners of her eyes crinkling, “You can never be like us.” 

Your whole body felt heavy, heavy like you were carrying a boulder behind your back. This isn’t what you had planned at all, everything was going so well until this! Your eyes started welling up with tears, blurring your sight. You had to go. 

Without saying a word, you quickly run away to the exit, ignoring Emilia’s insensitive laugh. 

What went wrong? Why did you feel that way? Negative thoughts were clouding your mind as you cried and cried to your poor, soaked pillow. 

Maybe you are just not enough. Perhaps you’re not meant to be like this. 

It was fun the first time around, and you were actually enjoying yourself. But the days passed and you sadly weren't doing this for your own pleasure anymore, but for the validation of other people. 

You should’ve stopped Seokjin from touching you when it clearly made you uncomfortable. There was a line and he crossed it, but you erased that line so you can finally say that you’ve slept with someone. But you guessed it wasn’t that easy. 

Grabbing your phone, you ignored all of the rude messages Emilia has sent you, blocking her and Sophia’s number. You turned off your phone, throwing it somewhere on the ground without care before you switched off your lamp. There was never a time that you’ve cried yourself to sleep, but tonight was your first. 

“And what do I get in return for this deal?” Jeon Jungkook purrs with a low, dark tone, crossing his legs together as he sits on his father’s fire-blazing throne. Even though he has his own throne for himself, thrones on fire were way cooler. He scans the frightened angel from head to toe through the strands that fell in front of his eyes. 

“The A-Archangel says you will obtain a soul. A soul that is longing for hell.” Armaros stutters as he tries to keep eye contact with the devil’s hard glare. 

Jungkook chuckles, hanging his head low. “You mean to tell me…” he starts to stand up and walks towards the angel. Armaros tries his best to keep his guard up and stand as tall as possible. 

Jungkook circles around him, arms crossed while his right hand plays with his bottom lip, “That I should convince this little girl to prevent doing bad, bad things to stop her from going to hell?” He laughs hysterically. “That’s quite… an unnatural job for a devil, isn’t it? It’s completely the opposite of what i’m supposed to do. Tell Michael that his plan is utter bullshit.”

Armaros takes a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a brief second before replying. “Firstly, Y/n is not a little girl. And second, this job is easy. You have the skill to persuade humans to sin – what’s hard with doing the opposite? Besides, you’ll obtain a soul either way.” 

His words made Jungkook ponder and deliberate with himself. He stops in front of Armaros and shows him his signature imposing smile. “I can have my way with the girl, right?” He bites his lip, “Anyway I want?” 

This made Armaros’ eyes go wide, mouth opening but no words seem to come out properly, “I-I… w-well, um… yes? Yes? P-Perhaps? Just don’t do anything bad to her.” 

Jungkook scoffs, running his long tongue over his teeth as he smirks, “Define bad, Mr. Angel.” 

“You know… hurt her.” He gulps.

The devil squints his eyes, absolutely loving Armaros’ reactions. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not gonna kill her, if that’s what you mean.” 

“I’m done with this conversation.” Armaros quickly chirps as he unfolds his large, white wings. “Remember what your main goal is, Jungkook. I’m counting on you.” 

Jungkook stops him before he flies back up. “Armaros…” he says, dragging his name long in his tongue. Armaros looks at him, eyes impatient, arms crossed together. 

“You know I’m a devil, right?” 

The angel chuckles, scoffing, “Oh, I know that alright.” He scorns, eyeing Jungkook up and down. Although the devil in front of him looks intimidating and his eyes are jet black, Armaros keeps his calm. “I’m only following orders. I didn’t agree with The Archangel in the first place.” 

“Do you know what devils do to… humans?” 

Armaros nods fully. 

“And what I might do to… that precious little girl?” Jungkook growls deeply, walking closer to him. He tilts his head down, looking at him through his lashes, “There’s a huge chance that I might not control myself when I see her.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Suddenly, black smoke appears from Jungkook’s right hand, summoning something beside him. The smoke appears to subside and at once, Y/n’s appearance can be seen through the thin air. Jungkook rests his hips on one side, twirling his hand so that her image spins around. 

“This is Y/n, right?” Jungkook studies your face, watching you read a book inside your room. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful before.” 

“Jeon Jungkook!” Armaros bellows, his tone loud yet sprinkled with fear. 

“I’m just saying, Angel. You can’t stop me from trying to do devilish things to her.” Jungkook smirks, prodding his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “You might have to reconsider this deal of yours if you don’t want me to have my way with that pretty little girl,” He taunts, already warning Armaros.

“Jungkook,” Armaros’ nerves seem to heat up, slowly getting irritated although he tries to calm himself. He looks down, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “There’s no point in doing that. You think she wants to have an affair with someone like you?” 

The devil laughs loudly as he twirls his hand until your image disappears. This conversation further proves Jungkook’s argument that angels are actually dumber than they realize. 

“If you want me to help you, I will have my way with her. My job, my rules. Understand?”

Armaros feels defeated, but he can’t say anything but nod and agree to him. He can’t fight him anyway. Jungkook dismisses him, and with that, the angel ascends back up to earth. 

Jungkook can’t wait to have his fun. 

~

Prancing around, making friends, getting to know each other – Jungkook doesn’t want to do that. Instead, he’s very straightforward, saying words that he probably shouldn’t, he likes to say what he thinks no matter how bad it’ll probably hurt. 

That’s what he plans to do with you. 

If he gets his point clear, make you frightened, scare the shit out of you, then the job would be complete. 

Easy! 

You were currently on your laptop, scrolling through your pinterest tabs until you hear loud and frantic knocks on your door. “Y/n!” May shrieks, her voice quivering. “Someone’s at the door!” 

Oh no, you thought. 

Immediately hopping out of bed, you went out to see who it was with May following behind you. You peak out through the windows and suddenly, you inhale sharply from the man that you see. 

He was unfamiliar. Thankfully, it wasn’t Seokjin or Sophia nor Emilia, but rather tall, might you say handsome looking man waiting outside your doorstep. He was dressed in all black, his hair covering his eyes. 

“Do you know him?” May asks quietly. You shake your head slowly, “N-No.” 

“Y/n… I think you should just leave him.” 

“May, I can handle it. You can go now.” You say softly to her. 

“Are you sure—”

“Yes.” You spat a little harshly, blazing your eyes at her. May nods, sighing as she walks away to her room. 

Gathering the courage to open the door, you took a deep inhale and exhale, calming your nerves. 

Once you open the door, your eyes immediately fly to his dark ones. Your whole body suddenly shivers, the air around the place somewhat getting cold as if it was winter. 

You can't take your eyes off of the man. You have never met him before but it felt like you've known him for too long. There was a strange aura surrounding the two of you that you can't explain. 

“Hello.” He speaks first, giving you a sly smile. 

His voice. You've never heard such a dark and menacing timbre before. 

“Hi,” you gulp, “Who are you?” 

“May I come in?” Jungkook snaps, ignoring your question. He doesn't want to waste any time, that's for sure. 

You furrow your brows as you shake your head, “Answer my question first.” You blurt, blocking the entrance by placing your hands on either side of the doorway. 

“Hm,” Jungkook slowly shows you a deadly smirk, eyeing your body up and down. “You really wanna know?” 

What kind of a question is that? 

You quickly got annoyed, looking at him with a scorn. “Obviously!”

Feisty, Jungkook thought. 

“I'm the devil.”

There was a long pause, silence filling the air. This man is too handsome to be this dumb. You laugh hysterically, bending over as you hold your aching stomach. “A-Are you… oh my god… please tell me you're fucking joking!” you say with creased eyes. 

Jungkook already expected this reaction, and he only rolls his eyes without you noticing. 

“Mhm. You don't believe me?” he slowly pronounces his words, voice deep and sinister. 

“Nah,” you shake your head, giggling. 

“Aren't you religious?” Jungkook pushes you to the side without hesitation and enters, your eyes expanding slowly as his body suddenly comes in contact with yours. “Don't you believe in your God? You believe in angels, right?” He backs your body up and shuts the door loudly behind him. 

You felt a series of chills erupt from your system, his gaze locked on yours. You wanted to look away from his intimidating gaze, but you can't, for some strange reason. “Huh, Y/n?”

You gasp. “Wait, h-how do you know my name!?” 

Jungkook smirks at you, tilting his head to the side as he ignores your question again. 

Your body seems to move by itself, like you can't control your own limbs. The air thickens around the two of you as you feel your body submit to the man in front of you. 

Sighing, with a shaky voice you answer. “I do. I do believe in them.”

Although what shocks you is the way his eyes suddenly turn a bright shade of red. From deep black to red, his irises glow. 

“What the fuck–” you quickly back away, body shivering in fear until your back hits a wall. You rub your eyes, trying to see if your mind was only playing tricks with you. 

Jungkook grins and chuckles darkly, clicking his tongue. “Then…” he draws, walking closer to your frightened figure, “Can this convince you enough?” 

“S-Stop… stop playing games with me!” you whimper, feeling your palms get sweaty. “Your eyes are red!” 

“Hmm, I wonder why,” Jungkook snarls, forehead creasing, “Maybe because I'm the fucking devil?” 

And in a flash, Jungkook’s appearance changes from a tall, handsome boy into a dark red figure. Black, bat-like wings sprout from his back, long horns appearing from his forehead, a spear-like tail behind him. His lips and the area around his eyes were tinted in black while his fingers grew longer, sharper. 

You almost fainted then and there. 

“Oh— p-please,” your eyes turn watery as tears start to fall down your cheek, lifting your hands up to your mouth in shock, “please d-don't kill me!” Shutting your eyes to avoid the frightening image in front of you, your knees drop down to the floor with a loud thud. “I'm sorry, please f-forgive me! Don't k-kill me! Please!” 

“Oh, what a cute pretty girl you are,” the devil grins, his voice more gravelly now. He looks down at your frail self, amused. “I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to teach you a lesson.” 

You start to sob as your body shakes, “No! Please d-don't…”  

“Do you believe me now?”

“Yes! Yes I do!” you quickly reply, voice cracking. “I’m sorry s-sir, don’t hurt me!” 

Jungkook, satisfied with your reaction, morphs back to his normal human look within a few seconds. “Look at me.”

Slowly, afraid to anger the devil in front of you, you obey his words. You sigh in relief when he finally looks normal again, but you can't look at him the same way. 

“Stand up.”

You do so with wobbly legs. You felt so weak with your energy quickly drained so quickly. Wiping your tear-stained cheeks, you try your best to keep your composure. 

“Anyway, I'm Jungkook,” he gives you an award-winning smile, “I'm sent here to supposedly warn you from doing bad things.” He cringes, shaking his head. “Which, honestly speaking, I think is atrocious.”

He scans your body, biting his lip right after. “A good looking girl like you should have her fun.” 

You try to regain your senses back. A devil — a real devil appeared right in front of you. You can't seem to shake the thought away while he’s there looking so handsome in his human form. 

With a shaky breath, you ask him, “J-Jungkook? I'm really sorry. I don't know what I'm doing.” 

He snorts. Brushing his black hair away from his face. “Wrong. You know what you're doing.” 

“W-What?” 

Something in the air changes when Jungkook snaps his fingers. A thick, black smoke appears, capsuling the both of you in. “What is this?!” you question, terror overtaking your face. You watch your surroundings getting blurry, blackness covering the area. 

“Oh nothing,” he gives you a lopsided grin, “just making sure that your little angels can't see us.” 

Jungkook's eyes shine and his pupils enlarge, smiling as you notice how his teeth grow sharper. There were veins popping out in his neck, grimacing at you in pure excitement.  

“We can't afford your poor, guardian angel to stop us now, can't we? I don't want him to see us…playing.” 

“Playing?!” You gasp, eyes expanding in shock.. 

“Yes, baby. Angels are so fucking dumb, aren't they? Asking a devil to do their own work? Isn't that pathetic.”

You were locked to him like a magnet as your body seems to fill with utter desire in such a quick time. 

Was he doing something to you?!

A series of pleasurable chills erupt from your body, mouth getting dry as you look up at Jungkook with big eyes. 

His hand suddenly touches your bare arm, making you silently mewl from his chilling touch. He smirks at your reaction, “How dumb of them to trust the son of Lucifer himself.”

“Y-You… you're…” your voice fades, trying to process his words. 

“Mhm. Aren't you excited to play with me?” 

Maybe he's doing tricks to your mind, controlling your body – or maybe you’re just fucked up. Either way, you want him. 

You lust for him. 

“Yes.”

Jungkook draws his lower lip between his teeth, his hands finding its way to your waist, holding you firmly until he unexpectedly pulls you to his body. He lifts a single eyebrow up, “Really?” 

Your heartbeat quickens. 

“I've… I’ve never been more sure.” Words seem to spill out of your mouth without your consent, as if it wasn’t you who’s speaking. But you don’t try to take your words back.  

Jungkook laughs and starts to lift you up without struggle, finding his way to your bedroom while the smoke follows the two of you. “Bad, bad girl you are.” He lowers you down on the mattress, sending you a seductive wink, “I'm so fucking proud.” 

He preps himself on his knees, capturing your thighs in between. His eyes run down your body, chills running down your spine from how hot he looks. His figure was so big and muscular, making you feel like he can destroy your frail self. 

“Look at this, you look so fucking delicious baby.” 

His hand suddenly flies down to your armpits, roughly handling you as he carries you up as he sits down on the bed, his back pressed against the headboard, as he places you in between his legs. 

You hold back a whimper as he pushes your body closer to him. Hearing him growl deeply made your cunt throb, feeling a strange wet feeling down there. 

“Demons can't help humans,” he mutters lowly, his lips right against the shell of your ear. “They want you to sin and sin and sin until the day you fucking die.” 

His hands play with your shirt until in a quick flash, he rips the cotton material in half, your body shivering as it has been exposed to the cold air. “Ohh,” you whimper, covering your body with your arms. 

“Nu-uh,” Jungkook grins behind you, “Don't do that, baby.” He leans down and starts pressing wet and sloppy kisses all over your shoulders, running his mouth up to your neck. “Don't try to hide away from me.”

He sucks on the soft skin of your neck, his big dick throbbing in his pants from the way you were constantly squirming. You were so sensitive, and it made him so horny. He hums, marking your skin in bright red and purple bruises. 

“Ahh, Jungkook,” you moan, throwing your head back until it rests right against his shoulder. 

His hands suddenly fly to your breasts, his long and slender fingers pinching and twisting your hardened nipples. You bite your bottom lip as you can't seem to open your eyes from the feeling. It was until Jungkook suddenly digs his nails into your nipples, pinching them roughly that made you jolt right up. 

“Oh, t-that hurts,” you cry, the stinging feeling of his sharp nails pinching your buds. Jungkook watches your face contort, digging his nails even harder. He feels your body twitch, hearing your gentle whines and mewls. 

“Ohhh you don't like it baby, does it hurt too much for your sensitive, precious body?” he mocks a concerned tone. “Hm?” 

He was playing games with you, that's for sure. You nod your head up and down, trying to push his hands away. “Mhm…” 

Thankfully, he does stop but he quickly cups your breasts with both hands. He feels your rock-hard nipples pushing against his rough palms, kneading your boobs until he finally lets go. 

“Take these off,” he instructs you to pull your shorts down, and you do so. With trembling hands, you swiftly tug them off of your legs. 

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts behind you, his right hand lowering down from your stomach until it reaches the destination right against your clothed pussy. His fingers slowly trace down your slick, feeling how wet you are through your panties. 

He smirks cockily, “You're fucking drenched, baby. Are you this horny?” he rubs your clit in slow, circular motions with just the right amount of pressure with the tips of his two fingers, your legs shivering. “Want something to stuff that little hole of yours?” 

He pulls your underwear down to your thighs, and you instantly shake it off with your legs. Jungkook pushes your legs apart, forcing your knees up with your feet flat on the mattress. Your cunt flutters around air from the exposure. You whine when his left arm possessively wraps around your stomach, his biceps flexing when he holds you tightly. 

“Stay fucking still,” he growls, his warm hand cupping your bare cunt. He chuckles, prodding his tongue against his cheek as he plays with your folds. He uses two slender fingers to spread your labia apart and you can feel your glistening arousal drip from your hole down to your ass. 

Jungkook hums in satisfaction, spreading your lips wider, making you emit a moan. “Jungkook—”

“No. I want you to call me something…” he elongates the pause in his sentence to suddenly insert the tip of his middle finger in your pussy, causing you to jump. “Something else, baby.” 

“Ah-ahh, what?” your legs couldn't stop trembling as he pushes his finger deeper, your walls sucking it in deliciously. 

You can feel him smirk against the skin of your neck, he snickers, “Starts with the letter D.” 

Your eyes squint in confusion, tilting your head up to look at him. Jungkook, with his glowing red eyes, scans your face with a quirked eyebrow expectantly. 

“Devil?” 

Jungkook scoffs loudly and instantly pushes the rest of his finger in your cunt, immediately pumping in and out at a rapid pace. Your hands quickly hold onto his arm that was wrapped around you, mouth agape from the sudden thrusts. “Ohhh!” your body shakes, leaning your head against him. Electric waves of pleasure run through your body, being new to the sensation. 

He growls as he removes his finger out to slap your pussy harshly, hitting your sensitive clit. “Wrong.” 

“Oww…” you mewl, your hips bucking up from the sting. He does this again, and again, and again, making your eyes watery. He tightens his hold on you, stopping you from squirming too much. 

“Daddy.” He purrs. 

Your body instantly feel a series of shivers. 

“Call me daddy.” Jungkook bites your neck roughly while he inserts his digits back, this time using his middle and ring finger. You hiss in pleasure, eyes tempting to roll back when he brushes the sponge-like texture inside your pussy. 

“Shit, right there daddy,” you curse, rolling your hips against his hand for more. “Right there!” 

Jungkook feels his cock harden even more, precum dripping down his tip as it twitches against his clothes. The way you pronounce that certain word drove him crazy. Jungkook loves how your body easily crumbles beneath him as you allow him to have all the control. He pounds your pussy faster with his hand, putting his bicep to good use. 

You were about to cum, the feeling of a tightness inside your tummy, a ball about to burst at any second. You warn Jungkook, “Daddy, i-i think… I think I'm gonna c-cum,” you sob. 

“I know.” He says simply, fucking you harder. Suddenly, he pushes his index finger in, three digits stretching your walls out. You cry loudly, thrashing around him as high-pitched moans carelessly leave your mouth. “Shiiiiit, d-daddy!” 

“Need to stretch this little pussy out for my cock” he purrs, “cuz’ we don’t want that tiny hole of yours to split into two, right baby?” 

Your toes curl, nails digging into the skin of his arm as you fail to warn him that you're gonna cum any second now. Although he can feel the way your pussy was pulsing around his long fingers. He angled his hand until your clit was brushing against his palm, “Daddy! Ohh fuck, just l-like that!”

Until it all stops. 

All of the pleasure stops when Jungkook pulls his fingers out. 

“Fuuuuuuuck!” you yell, never been more frustrated before as he denies your orgasm. You were about to cum so hard. Your legs shake uncontrollably, scratching his arms as your body shudders. Your poor cunt pulsates rapidly from the sour loss. You were a whimpering, sobbing mess. 

Laughing dryly behind you was Jungkook, licking his fingers clean as he watches your dignity wash away right in front of his eyes. 

“Fuck you,” you scowl, pushing away his arms and turning to face him. “Fuck. You.” 

But he wasn't bothered at all, of course. He was the devil after all. He had no remorse.

Before you know it, Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat and swiftly pulls you close to his face. You gulp, terrified from the intimidating look in his eyes. 

Jungkook thinks that he can easily kill you then and there. If it were a different person, he wouldn't hesitate to snap their neck like a stick. Usually he would feel tempted to physically hurt a person in this kind of situation. But no. He likes you. He likes you too much to kill.

“Take my cock out.”

Even though you hate him for denying your orgasm so brutally like that, you nod your head. Jungkook removes his shirt as you scoot down. You were careful to unbutton his pants, heart rate going faster from the thought of seeing his cock right in front of your face. By the look of the large tent evident, he was gonna be huge. Jungkook watches you with heavy eyes, running his hand through your hair softly. 

You pull the garment down and your mouth visibly waters from the sight. The outline of his cock was evident from his briefs, long and thick and was certainly rock hard. You were so afraid to even touch it as you let your hands sit right on his thighs. 

“Haven't done this before?” he asks, rubbing your cheek with one hand. You shake your head, afraid to look at his glaring eyes. 

Jungkook chortles, quickly pulling his underwear down by himself.

His cock immediately springs out and rests on his abdomen. With wide, surprised eyes, you notice his red tip leaking so much precum, dripping down his abs. You involuntarily whine and wiggle your hips in need, your wetness dripping down your thigh. 

“Take it in your mouth.” He orders, voice strict and demanding. 

“But—” 

“Did I stutter?” 

“No daddy.” You whisper, looking away and finally gathering the courage to wrap your hands around his girth. You clench your thighs together when you feel him against your palm – warm and heavy, yet the skin was soft at the same time. When you stroke his shaft up and down watching how his precum pours down to your hands, providing you lubrication as it coats his cock. 

Jungkook throws his head back as he smiles down at you, feeling so good. He bucks his hips up repeatedly, meeting your timid strokes. 

His patience runs out and slaps your hand away, gripping his cock tightly. Suddenly, he slaps his dick on your cheek, making lewd and wet sounds. “Open your fuckin��� mouth.” 

Obeying his command, you wrap your lips around his leaking tip. You taste the saltiness of his seed on your tongue, trying your best to take more of him. His thick girth was making it hard for you as your jaw immediately feels sore. 

His hand flies to grip your hair, making you whine around his cock, causing vibrations. “Look at that pretty little mouth tryna’ take this cock,” he smirks, “Go deeper baby. Gag around my cock if you don't wanna be punished.” 

Your hips swivel in need from his words, pussy soaking like a river. You slack your jaw as you sink down on his cock, trying to ignore the harsh gags when his tip hits the back of your throat. Jungkook growls loudly above you, seeing that the corners of your mouth were dripping in saliva. 

He uses both of his hands to force you deeper. Your eyes start to water when you swallow just half of his big dick, already being too much for you. The harsh and wet gagging sounds were music to Jungkook's ear, loving to see you struggle. “Mhm, fuck yes,” he grunts, “Choke on that big dick.” 

He keeps you down there, feeling sinister as his devilish instincts get the best of him. He ignores your cries and pleads, only focusing on the feeling of the sweet vibrations whenever you moaned around him. Or whenever your throat closes around his shaft when you choked, it was all too good for him. 

You immediately tapped on his thighs furiously when you can't take it anymore, but what did he do? He starts fucking your mouth with sharp thrusts of his hips. You whimper, closing your eyes tight as your nails dig into the skin of his thighs. He grabs you by your head as he uses your poor mouth for pleasure. 

Trying to breathe through your nose, you ignore the burning sensation in your mouth yet it feels too good. “Ahhhh holy fucking shit,” he grunts, feeling your throat tighten, “Look at that – fuck. Bad little girl aren't you? Mhm? You're my bad, naughty girl.” Jungkook mocks, watching the stream of tears drip down your cheeks. 

Finally, he pulled out and there were thick strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. He groans loudly, his cock twitching as it lays back on his stomach. 

“Ohh, c'mere baby girl, come here.” Jungkook whispers and pulls your body close to him. You straddle his lap, feeling his cock beneath your folds that made you hiss. He wraps his strong arms around you, his face inches close to yours. You try not to be intimidated by his menacing eyes, but he notices this and clutches your throat with one hand, squeezing it again that made you inhale sharply. Jungkook sees your pout, your lips bruised from your numerous bites, and he chuckles. 

He tugs you until his lips are right upon your ear. “You wanna cum, baby?” 

Your body shivers from how deep and alluring his voice was, although you nod your head. “Please, daddy.” 

“Oh but do you deserve it? Do you even deserve a cock like mine?” 

You hate how frustrated he can make you. You punch your hands down on his chest, whining, “I-I do…” 

Jungkook quirks a brow up, immediately forcing your hands behind your back. He roughly grasps your wrists together with one hand, surely leaving a red bruise. He bites his lip, “You do?” He swiftly lands a spank on your right ass cheek, making you moan. “Then sink down on my cock.” 

With a puff of your breath, Jungkook helps you align his dick to your sopping entrance. You couldn’t breathe properly, anticipating what will happen as soon as you slowly sink yourself on his thick tip. 

“Ohhh daddy!” Your walls stretch out as you take his tip in, making you feel a harsh, stinging sensation as he rips your walls. If it wasn’t with his impressive girth, it probably wouldn’t hurt as much. Jungkook grunts, his cock throbbing from the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. 

“Fuck yeah,” he watches your pussy take him further, your juices coating his shaft. He tightens his hold on your wrists, slightly bucking his hips up. Jungkook lands another hard, loud spank. 

“Daddy you're so b-big,” you moan, almost halfway down his dick but you can't take more of him anymore. Jungkook gets turned on from the sweet tone of your voice, the thought of tainting such a girl like you made him chuckle. 

Jungkook feeds himself from the idea of corrupting you, letting you know how it feels to truly rebel. Who the fuck cares about what your parents think? Humans are all going to die anyway, there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun. 

You start to bounce up and down slowly, your pussy rubbing against him, feeling the thick protruding veins upon your walls. You dig your nails onto your palm, eyes closed shut as you prop yourself up to your feet. 

“That's it, baby. Ride daddy's cock,” he insinuates, watching your face contort in pleasure. With your eyebrows knitted together, eyes shut and mouth wide open, Jungkook’s cock throbs inside of you.

“Look at that fucking face, cant take it?” he snickers. 

“I can, I can,” you pant tirelessly, legs getting sore. Your brows drew deeper as you concentrated on the feeling of his cock hitting your sensitive nerves so good, already so close to an orgasm from how big he is. 

But Jungkook wanted more. He wants it harder, rougher. He wants to shoot his hot cum so hard and deep inside your fresh womb, filling you up. He wants to wreck your body until you break. 

So he releases your hands free and instead grabs a hold of your waist firmly, keeping you still. He plants his feet on the bed and starts to thrust his hips up like crazy. 

Your jaw drops into an ‘o’ shape and you release a particular loud squeal. Your hands hold onto his broad shoulder, throwing your head back as he continues to drill your abused cunt. His balls slap against your ass, creating lewd slapping noises. 

“Dadddyyyyy!” you shriek, eyes expanding so wide from the unexpected bliss of electric currents shooting down your spine. You can't handle it, your orgasm snapping in a quick second. “I'm—!” 

Jungkook groans loudly when your pussy squirts your cum all over his dick and gushes all over his stomach. He fucks you through your mind-blowing orgasm, your eyes rolling back to your head as your legs shake from the unexpecting feeling. Your mind seems to cloud in lust as he doesn’t stop fucking you. 

“Shit,” he laughs, “look at this poor little girl.” Jungkook caresses your ass before he spanks it roughly, emitting a whimper from your mouth, kneading the bruised flesh right after. “Squirting all over daddy. You love my big cock so much, huh? You horny, desperate little slut.” 

Before you can even process what he just said, he flips you over until you lay down flat on your stomach. He hovers on top of you, keeping his dick in without pulling out. You yelp as he wraps his big hand around your throat, tightly squeezing your jugular without mercy. 

“A-ahhh oh—” you choke, letting your forehead down to rest on the sheets as he continues to pound you from behind. 

He had absolutely no mercy, using you as his little fucktoy for his pleasure, abusing your pussy like it was made for his demon cock. He chokes you harder, almost making you see stars. 

Your cunt throbs once again, signalling that another orgasm is coming near. “Ohhhh fuck fuck fuck fuck!” you moan, heavy puffs of breath coming out of your mouth every time he thrusts into you. 

Jungkook feels his nerves getting hotter and hotter, his cock aching to cum. He doesn't think of anything else but the way your walls clench so tightly around him. “Gonna break this motherfucking pussy of yours,” he growls, leaning down until his chest presses against your sweaty back. “I'm gonna fucking paint your walls with my cum, baby. You're gonna take all of it, you're gonna take all of daddy's cum in that tight cunt.”

Your legs squirm, hands closing into fists as you hit the bed over and over from how sensitive you become. Your hands claw the sheets tightly, back arching from the breathtaking pleasure. 

“Ahhhh daddy! Ohh my fucking— ahhh yes, yes yes!” your body crumbles, mouth wide open as you scream while you cum for the second time. Your pussy pulses so harshly around his dick, coating it with your juices, making it more wet for him. 

He groans, removing his hand from your throat and slaps your ass again. “Naughty little shit right here.” It was so messy, just how he likes it. His cum covered in your glistening arousal, fucking you through your high. 

He immediately flips you around again, making you face him. He smirks cockily from your flushed chest and face, noticing that you were having trouble opening your eyes. 

He leans down and rests his forearms beside your head, “Take it baby, take it.” he murmurs roughly, his balls getting heavier. “Take my fucking dick.”

Your legs never seem to stop quivering, everything around you seems blurry besides Jungkook's face. How does he still look so handsome and perfect? His black hair falls down his forehead, swaying with every hard thrust, his deep dimples peeking through when he bites his lower lip slowly while he savors the feeling of your warm, wet pussy. 

“Gonna cum in you baby,” he pants, holding your cheek in one hand. “Daddy’s gonna cum so fuckin’ hard for you.” You notice a dark, sinister forming his lips as he looks down at you. There it was again, that intimidating, almost teasing look. 

He growls roughly, hips staying still inside you as he dips down to gnaw at your shoulder. You hiss, whimpering when he sinks his teeth so harshly into your delicate skin, leaving an ugly mark. “Ah-ahh, daddy!” His cock spurts out warm strings of his seed, filling you up to the brim. 

“Mmm, mmm, fuck yeah,” he moans, “take it, Y/n.” 

When he pulls his cock out, his pupils enlarge as he sees your arousal dripping out of your cunt and onto your bed. He chuckles, stroking his cock a couple of times to milk himself furthermore, not wasting any of his sperm.

The two of you were breathless, breathing heavily. Your legs feel so sore and you can't feel them either, your ass stinging from his numerous rough spanks. 

“Clean yourself up, Y/n.” Jungkook suddenly throws you a wet towel, about to ask him where it came from, although he just stares at you blankly with a quirked brow. 

Gulping, you nod and start wiping yourself clean. 

~

He can't leave now. Not after all of this. 

There was something that attracted yourself to him. You can't seem to grasp what it is – but whenever Jungkook looks at you in the eyes, you feel like submitting. 

It was like your body doesn't belong to you anymore. He possesses your body now. 

“Crawl to me, my love.” He whispers, and you were easily drawn to his beautiful eyes. 

Still naked, you do as you're told and crawl towards the edge of the bed where he stands. He wears his pants, thankfully covering his goods. 

He sighs and softly caresses your cheek with a warm hand, making you flutter your eyes shut whilst leaning against his palm. He hums delightfully, smirking. 

“Surrender.” He purrs, eyes drooping down as he looks at you with such gentleness, almost with care. He leans down until your faces are mere inches away from each other. “Surrender to me, my love. And I’ll take you to somewhere you belong.”

Your eyes shimmer, batting your eyelashes as you gawk up at him with eagerness. “W-Where I belong?” you repeat in question.

“Yes, Y/n.” He smiles, showing you his perfect teeth. “Where no one will judge you, no one will criticize you for you. You can be whoever you want, you can do whatever you want. Isn’t that exciting, baby?”

Mouth getting dry, your nerves heat up once again, feeling nothing but anticipation. “Yes.”

Jungkook holds your face in two hands, compelling you to stare unswervingly at his red eyes. “Submit to me, Y/n, and you’ll never worry about this earth’s dreadful problems.” His voice gravelly yet dark, somehow different to his normal human speaking voice. 

You didn’t know what he really means by ‘submit’, or where he was supposed to take you. But your mind was telling you to go. Your consciousness speaks to you like someone was whispering in your ear what to do. You kneel before him, still keeping eye-contact. The air around the two of your shifts and it suddenly grows warm as your body starts to sweat.

“Where are…” your voice was breathy, “Where are you taking me?”

Jungkook starts to chuckle, brushing your hair back with his fingers. Suddenly, your heart races when he presses a tender, wet kiss on your forehead. Your eyes widen, heart beating out of your chest when he continues to kiss you down to the bridge of your nose, until it stops right upon your lips. He hovers his mouth right against yours, feeling his warm breath.

He whispers the words so ominously that goosebumps appear all over your arms and legs. “I’m gonna take you down to hell.” 

Jungkook watches your face go pale, all the blood leaving your face as you gaze at him with such big, surprised eyes. Without warning, he presses his lips against yours. You can’t keep up with him, his kiss rough and dominating. You whimper when his hand goes to wrap itself around your throat, pulling you closer. His tongue easily slips in your mouth, causing you to gasp. Jungkook smirks through the kiss as he controls the way your mouth moves. The two muscles dance together with such need and passion, hands getting sweaty. 

He bites your bottom lip, chewing on the soft flesh while he gently rolls it against his teeth. Jungkook growls, eyebrows furrowing. He can’t seem to get enough of you, wanting you all for himself. He’s addicted to you; your scent, your beautiful eyes, your body, he doesn’t want to leave this earth without you. 

He needs you down with him. 

Jungkook pulls out as he watches your flushed face, all out of breath. There was nothing else that you could do but whine about the loss of his lips. You were craving more of him. You pout, hoping that he’ll give in but Jungkook just shakes his head with a smirk. 

“Answer me, baby. Go down with me, and I’ll treat you so good.” He insinuates, “I’ll treat you like my own fucking queen. Don’t you want that?” 

You nod your head furiously, “I do want that,” you say softly. 

He clicks his tongue, “Tch, louder.” 

“I want it, please. Bring me with you.” Jungkook watches your pupils dilate, growing bigger as you speak. “Please.” 

Jungkook smiles. And within a flash, the black smoke that was encircling the two of you all this time thickens and starts to wash over the two of you. You cough uncontrollably yet Jungkook just stands there and watches. The smoke fills your lungs until you lose consciousness. 

~

Sounds of the crackling fire fills your eardrums, and your body tries to accommodate the scorching heat of your surroundings. 

Opening your eyes, you see that you’re nowhere in your room, or in the overworld. All that your eyes can see was miles and miles of dark red and black hills, huge torches of fire everywhere, scattered all over the place. There were girls and boys dressed in all black outfits, walking around the place with blank faces, eyes having stripped off of their emotions.

You look down on yourself and thankfully, you were wearing clothes. A tight red dress that hugs your body perfectly, enhancing your curves.

“Y/n.”

A soft voice calls out your name, and you whip around to see Jungkook in his demon form, smiling at you as he sits on his throne. You feel a warm, familiar feeling in your heart as if coming home and going to bed from a long trip. His blazing eyes lead you to a trance.

He beckons you to him for he lifts his right hand out to you. He eyes your body up and down, fixing his posture whilst he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. The way your hips gently sways as you make your way towards him – not losing eye contact – and how your irises burn in desire, it was all that Jungkook asks for.

Your legs move without your permission, leading you up the stone steps to his throne.

His hand was warm when you grasp it, although it was rough and almost hard unlike his human skin, you touch as if there was no difference. You weren’t afraid anymore. Jungkook signals you to sit on his lap, and you gladly obey. With legs on either side of his thigh, you straddle him.

“You’re mine, baby.” Jungkook snarls, “This is your place now.”

“I…” you speak for the first time, “I can’t see my friends and family anymore?”

He shakes his head no with a sly grin.

You exhale, a big smile painting your face. You’ve never felt so content and happy in your entire life.

“Then I love it here.”  

Jungkook makes sure that your angels can’t and won’t look for you anymore. He swears that he’ll protect you in every way possible, promising to shield you from anything that will hurt you. Jungkook looks at your beautiful red eyes, feeling your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him close. 

The last thing anyone should do is trust a devil — and that goes for your foolish angels. 

[someonestolemyshoes]

Off the Record

Hello!! I am super excited to finally post my entry for @levihan-drabbles competition :D The prompt was super interesting and I had a tonne of fun writing this one! 

The prompt I received was: Hange posts a picture of Levi somewhere and it becomes a meme.

(For those curious, this is the meme I used for inspiration) 

Hange pushed her plate across the table and grinned at him. "Levi! Fancy seeing you here! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Levi's lip curled.

"You know what," he said. Hange braced her elbows on the table and rested her chin atop her knotted fingers.

"Enlighten me."

Colour rose in Levi's cheeks. For a moment, Hange felt a little guilty. For all Levi's grumbling and grunting, Hange had never seen him angry before.

"That bullshit article."

"Ah. Was there a problem?"

Hange met Moblit in a small cafe a little way down the road from the newsroom. She was in good spirits—her morning had been productive; she'd made steady headway with research for her next interview, finished the final edits for a few smaller tabloid pieces she'd been meaning to brush up, attended three short, perfunctory meetings on tedious company policy, and laid the groundwork for another exciting interview opportunity.  

She felt good. And now she had the pleasurable prospect of a hearty lunch, a passable cup of coffee, and perhaps best of all, Moblit's company. His company, and his camera.

Hange threw herself into the seat opposite Moblit the moment she spotted him, hunched over his laptop in a corner of the cafe. He lifted his coffee cup just in time for Hange to clatter against the table, the thin metal frame rattling precariously. She offered him a sheepish grin.

"Sorry," she said, and then, "got anything exciting?"

"I don't know about exciting. Interesting, maybe, but no breaking news."

Hange flagged down a passing waitress with one hand, and waved Moblit off with the other. "Doesn't matter, doesn't matter," she said, then paused to order a drink and her favourite sandwich. "Tell me anyway."

"I got a tip-off from a waiter at Sina's."

Hange's eyes sparkled behind her glasses. She sat forward in her chair, folding her arms on the table top as she leaned closer. "Who?"

"Take a guess."

Hange grinned at him. Moblit was not one to play coy; he did his job and did it well, and reported his findings efficiently. To leave her to question it meant one of two things; he had photographed someone very high profile indeed, or it was somebody Hange was, for better or for worse, well acquainted with.

Or perhaps, if she were lucky, it was both.

"Let me see him, then."

**

Hange had taken far too much time in the cafe with Moblit. He had given her a rundown of all the details he'd gathered during his field work that morning, and shown her through his extensive photo gallery. It was impressive, the kind of archive Moblit could cultivate with only a 45 minute breakfast window.

Hange had been delighted. Moblit was right; it wasn't breaking news, nothing particularly thrilling, but there was a corner of the Internet, Hange knew, that would delight in a trashy little article just like this. Something quick and simple to bulk up the social media feed for the afternoon.

Plus, there was a series of pictures Moblit had snapped, a cluster he'd thought to be of no real merit, that Hange simply could not pass up.

She could lay down no facts with a story like this one. There was no hard-hitting investigative journalism to be had, but she could at least offer some speculation based on her knowledge of the subjects involved, and spin a tale juicy enough to get people talking.

It took little time at all to put the article together. Hange scribbled up an outline for the contents—the location; Sina's in downtown Hizuru, a luxurious restaurant serving five star meals at every hour of the day. High in quality, sickeningly steep in price. The time of day; 9am. To the best of Hange's knowledge, this was rather out of character for the subject. He was an early riser, but according to their interview last March pending the premiere of his newest movie, he wasn't the type to eat much at all before lunch time.

And then, the company. Eren Yeager was a relatively well-known actor, barely an adult at nineteen. He starred in his first role a decade earlier, and had seen commercial success in multiple movies and TV shows ever since. He had been something of a prodigy in his younger years, bold and precocious, possessing a natural talent many actors years his senior couldn't even hope for. As Hange understood it, he had recently hit a rather troublesome phase. An interesting line of inquiry, but despite his talent and his fame, Eren's presence was simply a cameo, compared to the subject of the article Hange was drawing up.

Levi Ackerman.

Levi is a fan favourite and a media delight. He's attractive no doubt, and his performance in any and every role is almost always met with critical acclaim. Outside of his career, however, he's an elusive thing, silent in any matters pertaining to his private life. He avoids any public event like the plague, and rarely shows his face at premieres or award ceremonies if he can possibly avoid it. He gives interviews only when required by some contractual obligation or other, or else when the journalist in question is so painfully persistent that it is simply easier to give in than to keep fighting.

Little of his personal life is known, but it is impossible for someone in Levi's position to avoid interacting with anybody at all, and even the great Levi Ackerman is not above scrutiny.

There are rumours. Several of them, accounts from fellow cast members, from staff, from directors, and even Erwin, his manager, has alluded more than once to Levi's sour disposition. He is prone, Hange has heard, to fits of anger, and is easily disgruntled by minor inconveniences. His dislike of anything unclean or untidy is the stuff of legends—Hange has seen this first hand, at their very first interview. He had entered the room, scowled at the chair before sitting in it, and given Hange a thorough once over before announcing, with no hint of humour, "your glasses are filthy."

Hange had found him both fascinating and quite delightful, in his own strange way. When he acts, Levi sounds eloquent; he is a master of emotive performance, wringing the last drops of anger, despair, or grief out of each and every word, or else injecting the perfect giddy jitter, or a tremor of humour when the scene called for it. As soon as the cameras stop rolling, though, Levi's tone becomes flat, and without a script, his words are clumsy and crass. He communicates poorly, quick to throw insults and crude remarks. Hange has interviewed him a number of times—she counts herself very lucky that Levi will consent to her requests without too much fuss, these days—and each time she finds herself spending half of their time together translating his answers into something a) family friendly, and b) understandable to the everyday reader.

There is nothing for Hange to translate this time. Moblit managed to speak to the waiter after Levi and Eren had vacated in hopes of gleaning any small tidbit of knowledge regarding their conversation, but the venture had been hopeless. The pair had grown silent upon the approach of any staff member, and spoke in tones too hushed for anyone nearby to hear. They learned nothing they couldn't extrapolate for themselves from Moblit's pictures; Eren looked sheepish, avoiding Levi's gaze in favour of staring into his drink, while Levi—

Levi looked furious.

Every picture featured his signature frown, which, in and of itself wasn't enough to assume Levi to be in any mood besides neutral, but some of the photos show a hint of bared teeth or pursed lips, with his brows pulled lower than normal, the space between them deeply creased. Hange found herself curious as both a journalist and as an acquaintance. They may not be friends, but Hange liked to think she knew Levi a little better than most people, at least. She could find nothing in their past interactions to suggest any relationship with Eren beyond the strictly professional. They had over a decade between them, and though they had worked together on more than one set, neither party had ever said anything to insinuate so much as a friendly attitude between them.

There was no resolution to her queries to be easily found. And luckily for Hange, this particular piece didn't require any. It was a gossip article, something spicy, jam-packed with buzzwords, what-if's and more questions than answers, designed to make people wonder. Levi's name in the title would be enough to draw people in; Eren's name was an added bonus. But the star of the show was Moblit's photography. Hange arranged the images she had chosen in a grid. In context, the pictures were intriguing, depicting a particularly ferocious part of Levi and Eren's exchange. Out of context, they looked a little ridiculous. Both would bring readers onto their home page.

Satisfied with her work, Hange queued the finished article for review, and turned her attention back to her schedule.

**

The article launched mid-afternoon. Hange watched, somewhat satisfied, as it was received much as she had expected it to be. The activity on their Twitter account skyrocketed, the tweet in question garnering more likes, retweets and replies in the hour after it's post than any other they’d dropped in the last month.

Hange had allowed it to slip from her mind after the first hour or so. She received praise from her bosses, and a text from Moblit, jokingly demanding she pay him even more handsomely for his work than she already had, and her cousin had called her in the evening on a quest for insider gossip she could share with her friends, but that had been the end of it. Hange thought of it no more until early the following morning, when she had stopped by the quiet little cafe beneath her flat for breakfast and her favourite coffee.

She had been polishing off her pancakes when the bell above the door chimed. She had paid little attention to the newcomer, until a shadow passed over her table, and a familiar voice said, "Oi, shitty glasses."

Hange looked up to see Levi Ackerman himself standing over her, his face twisted in a scowl.

There are perks of being reasonably acquainted with Levi. Hange always gets to conduct his interviews, and Levi only ever turns her down if her request is unreasonable. Like that time she demanded he meet her at this very coffee shop for "just a quick piece, about the cameo you did for the new season of Titans", only to show him she'd bought a new pair of glasses—"look, all clean!"—and, when pressed, admitted there was no interview at all. He had been far more hesitant to indulge her in smaller affairs after that, but Hange was still lucky enough to be his only regular interviewer after big releases.

More interviews means more commission for Hange, and more high profile work with other celebrities. Yes, being acquainted with Levi has its bonuses.

But it also has its downsides. Namely, that Levi will not hesitate to turn up at her regular coffee shop to berate her after she has posted some complete and utter wank at his expense.

Hange pushed her plate across the table and grinned at him. "Levi! Fancy seeing you here! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Levi's lip curled.

"You know what," he said. Hange braced her elbows on the table and rested her chin atop her knotted fingers.

"Enlighten me."

Colour rose in Levi's cheeks. For a moment, Hange felt a little guilty. For all Levi's grumbling and grunting, Hange had never seen him angry before.

"That bullshit article."

"Ah. Was there a problem?"

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?"

Hange sat back in her chair and sipped at her coffee. Levi's face was full colour now, a pale pink flush from his neck right up to his hairline. Hange gave him a measured look, then kicked out the chair opposite her.

"Sit," she said. "If you have issues, I'd be happy to discuss."

Levi looked for a moment like he'd like nothing more than to strangle her. Then he pulled out the chair the rest of the way, and dropped himself into it.

"I don't give a fuck about the article," he said. "It's shitty gossip anyway."

Hange raised a brow at him. She opened her mouth to continue when, without prompt, a young waitress approached their table, practically bouncing on the spot as she stopped and gave Levi a dazzling smile. Her cheeks were flushed prettily, and Hange would have thought she were simply starstruck, if it weren't for the light of mirth in her eyes.

"Good morning, sir. Can I get you anything?" She gave Levi no chance to respond, before plowing on. "Water? Or tea, perhaps? Forgive me, but you seem a little upset. Might a nice tea calm you down?"

Levi grit his teeth. "No, thank you."

Hange almost apologised to the poor waitress on his behalf, but she didn't look bothered at all by his rudeness. In fact, she had barely turned from the table before she snorted in laughter, and caught her giggles in her hands as she scurried back behind the counter. A second passed, before all three waitresses snickered.

"That," Levi hissed, "is your fault."

Now Hange truly was confused. She furrowed her brow at him. "How does that have anything to do with me?"

"You and your stupid article," he said. Hange looked back to the waitress, who looked to their table again before falling into a fresh fit of giggles. Hange turned back to Levi, a little sympathetic.

"I think she just fancies you."

"You're trying to tell me you really don't know the mess you've caused?"

Hange shook her head slowly. Levi watched her closely, searching for proof of the lie, but Hange's earnestness must have shown through, for Levi's anger abated a little, and he slumped back on his chair.  

In lieu of a verbal explanation, Levi pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen a few times, typed something out, and scrolled a little way, before placing the phone on the table and sliding it towards her. Hange pulled it closer with a frown.

The screen displayed Twitter, and showed the feed beneath the search for Levi's name. Hange scrolled a few posts, eyes widening little by little as she went.

Levi was right. The contents of the article were of little significance at all. The photo grid, however, had gone viral overnight.

It showed four pictures of Levi and Eren, taken in succession. Each one showed only a portion of the back of Eren's head, but Levi's expression in every frame was more animated than Hange had ever seen him outside of his movie scenes, and each was more distraught than the last. Face tight, jaw clenched, teeth bared, with his finger pointed condescendingly in Eren's face. The second last picture shows his brows arched and his lips pressed into a thin line, and the final one—

Hange had laughed at it in isolation when Moblit had shown her. She had fully expected it to garner a few laughs, but she hadn't expected a photograph of Levi furiously slurping his tea to become a meme in less than 24 hours.  

"I see," Hange said, as she calmly slid the phone back to him. "In my defense, you don't help yourself. It wouldn't be half as funny if you didn't hold your tea cup so weird."

"In my defense," Levi snapped, "If you didn't post it online nobody would have anything to laugh at."

Hange crossed her arms on the table and leaned towards him, smiling pleasantly. "In your defense, you wouldn't have been so angry in public if it weren't for whatever Eren had to say. What was that about, by the way? I'm terribly curious."

Hange expected a very Levi response to her prying; a scowl, perhaps a quick kick under the table, an 'It's none of your damn business, four-eyes', if she were lucky.

What she got instead was a haughty sniff, and a gruff, "He's fucking my cousin."

For a moment, they were silent. Either Levi's anger at his new meme status had temporarily disabled the part of his brain that blocked any mention of his private life from slipping past his lips in the wrong company, or something about Eren's indiscretion had rattled him so much, he couldn't keep silent about it. Either way, he looked increasingly surprised—and horrified—at himself for saying it out loud. Hange's eyes were wide, and Levi's were growing wider by the second. Of all the people to slip up to, he had slipped up to her. An entertainment journalist, the one person in his life who thrived on this kind of insider knowledge.

Hange swallowed. Levi was still staring at her like a deer in headlights, no doubt painfully aware that there was no taking back what he had said now.

Hange doesn't take a great deal of pride in what she does. She feels satisfied when her stories receive the reception she'd predicted, validated in her ability to analyse their consumer base and make accurate assumptions about what will hit and what won't, but the work itself feels dirty, at times. An opportunistic scavenger feeding on whatever carrion they can find, no matter how rotten it may be.

This is a perfect opportunity. Salacious details of Levi's interpersonal relationships, right from the horse's mouth. If it were anyone else, Hange would be scribbling every word verbatim in her notebook.

But this is Levi. Levi, who seems jarred by her last article (though Hange will maintain this, at least, is no real fault of her journalism, and also, absolutely hilarious) and was clearly, for whatever reason, incensed by Eren's actions.

Hange brushed her palms over her thighs, and picked a speck of lint from her trousers.

"This is nice, isn't it?" She said, "having breakfast together. We should do it more often. It feels good to just talk, sometimes. Off the record."  

Levi blinked rapidly at her. He opened his mouth, but, still too shocked by his own loose tongue to speak, he said nothing. Hange pulled her phone from her bag and fiddled around with it some, tapping here and there, until she found what she was looking for. She turned it to Levi, and said, "I think this is my favourite edit so far."

Levi finally pulled his gaze from her, and looked down at the screen. It was truly something, the way the picture snapped him out of his stunned silence. Hange had never seen someone's face pinch up so rapidly.

"Come on, it's kinda funny. And look! That's Tony Stark, right? People are so creative. And maybe, if we're really lucky, Buzzfeed will do a compilation article of all the best ways people have used your new meme."  

Levi rolled his eyes at her. It looked strange, with his face so tightly twisted. Hange chuckled at him.

She nudged his ankle beneath the table with the toe of her shoe. "Lighten up, you look constipated."

"Oi, out of the two of us I'm not the one who's full of—"

"—Full of shit, I know, I know. That honour is all mine."

They lapsed into another silence, this one marginally more comfortable than the last. Hange finished the last of her coffee and checked her emails, while Levi tortured himself some more by scrolling through his Twitter feed. After a short while, he spoke again.

"That...doesn't sound bad," he said.

"Hm?"

"What you said about talking more. Off the record. It doesn't sound bad."

It was Hange's turn to flush. Heat rose in her cheeks, and she occupied herself by rifling through her bag in search of nothing.

"Yeah?" Her voice, an octave higher than usual, cracked around the vowels. She cleared her throat, "will you have more gossip for me? It's almost painful that I can't share it, you know."

"Good. I'll share as many secrets as I've got, if it'll bother you that much."

"Sounds terrible," Hange said. She tore a clean corner off her napkin and scribbled her personal number onto it. She slid it over the table to him. "Text me."

Levi pulled a face at the piece of napkin. "Is that used? Gross, shitty four-eyes." He pocketed it anyway.

Hange didn't know what else to say. Levi didn't seem to either, and so he stood, and tucked his chair back in. Hange turned her eyes down to her empty plate. Her stomach and chest felt strange, almost sickly, but in an oddly pleasant way.

Levi rapped his knuckles on the table. Hange jumped, startled, and looked up at the sound.

"This part is on the record," he said. The corner of Levi's mouth quirked into a small, barely there grin. "I heard from a reliable source that Eren was so scared on the set of Last War that he pissed his pants. Twice."

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Chapter 3)

Chapter Summary: You have a reason to celebrate and need a partner to do that.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 6.2k

Warnings:+18 only, smut, sex in a public place, boytoy!Bucky, casual sex, opened relationship, drinking, sorority.

A/N: Here’s one more filthy chapter for you guys. It won’t always be that way since the plot moves forward, but it will still be focused on smut for the next couple of chapters. Our reader deserves some fun before things get a bit more complicated, right? The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated. Tag list for this story is closed.  

Screen after screen pops in the air in front of you as you furiously type codes and formulas on them. You’re there, you’re almost there. You’ve been working on this project for months and now it finally seems like you’re getting somewhere.

“Coffee?”

You just nod as an answer to Camilla, your partner on that project. She gets up and walks out to go get the coffee. She already told you if it was up to her, you’ve already given up. But you know you’re getting there. You haven’t stopped working ever since early hours and you’re feeling inspired and focused as ever.

When you’re satisfied with the input you add to the system which is working on the calculations, you sit back. Eyes on the screen displayed in the air. Camilla comes back with your coffees and hands one to you, fixing her eyes on the screen, too as she stands beside you.

“Come on, come on,” you whisper.

Bringing the coffee to your lips you almost choke on it when the answer you were so desperately looking for gleams on the screen.

“Holy shitballs,” you shout and swiftly gets up, letting your cup drop to the floor, splashing the liquid around.

“Oh, fuck,” Camilla gasps and you two look at each other with paired up widened eyes before letting out a cheerful scream and holding each other, jumping around as you gain the attention of the other workers from the several small offices of the Avengers/Stark Technology Department.

A clear of throat takes you and your friend out of your reverie, catching your attention. When you see Sharon Carter on your door, with a smirk on her lips, you two cease the celebration, but keep the smiles on your faces.

“Hey, Sh- Director,” you quickly correct yourself, being friends with Natasha brought you close to Sharon, too. But now she’s Director of Shield, after Nick Fury became coordinator of the Avengers, therefore you should show some respect at least at workplaces, “Remember that Shield and Avengers’ joined project? The one where we were trying to build a device that would crack alien secret services codes?”

“Yeah, sure, our tech departments have been working for months to find an algorithm.” Sharon nods.

“Well, looks like we made it.” You point at the screen right in front of you.

“What the hell?” She shoots an eyebrow high and steps into the office, eyes analyzing the screen between you two.

“We doesn’t quite cut it, Director,” Camilla says, rolling her eyes, “She worked her ass off and got to it by herself. She’s been killing it these last few days.”

You huff, shaking your head. You’ve been really inspired, indeed. And you might relate it to a certain physical activity you’ve been engaging on recently and the outrageous amount of energizing orgasms you’ve been gifted with almost daily… not a topic to be brought out now, though.  

“Ooo, someone seems extra inspired…” Sharon narrows her eyes, but you try to not indulge any possible insinuation by just ignoring the comment with a smile, “Well, that’s amazing news,” she resumes, clapping her hands once, “and it kind of leads to the subject that brought me here, would you mind excuses for a second, Camilla?” She kindly asks.

“Of course, not. I’ll be in my office.” Camilla says, not holding back from hugging you and squirming in excitement one more time before walking out the room.

“This is huge, huh?” Sharon comments, pulling up the chair you pointed for her as you sit on yours.  

“It is, can you imagine what Natasha will be able to do with it?” You grin, brushing your hands together.

“Thanks to your badass brain,” she compliments before narrowing her eyes at you again, “You have a weird happy face.”

“Well, something amazing just happened…”

“Yeah, yeah…” Sharon brushes you off, “You’re killing it at your job and that’s amazing… but to be honest, I expected to still see you moping around about your break up.”

“I’m still sad about it, but work has been great, and-”

“Oh, cut the crap,” Sharon interrupts with a playful snap and you frown while she crosses her arms in front of her, holding back a laugh, “I’ve been texting with Natasha, I know about you and your boytoy.”

“What the hell?” Your eyes widen as you throw your arms to the air, already feeling your cheeks warming, “She’s on a mission and you two have been talking about my… sex life?” You lean over across the table and whisper the last part.

“We can multitask,” Sharon shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Oh, wow…” you scoff, “That’s two of the greatest spies on earth right.”

“Alright,” She chuckles, unfolding her arms and leaning over the table, “As much as I want to know all about it, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Ok,” you quickly accept the change of subject for your own relief, “Why are you here for, then?”

“To tell you that Stark is a jerk,” she deadpans.

“Ok… cool,” you drag the words, side eyeing her, “And?”

“Long story short, I lost you in a chess match and now you’re the new leader of Avengers/Stark Tech Department.”

You don’t quite assimilate what she just said as you keep your questioning stare on her, not finding the link between her words and, most of all, did she just say you’ve been promoted?

“I’m sorry, what?” You shake your head shutting your eyes for a second, finally asking for clarification after what seemed like the longest staring contest ever.

“Well,” Sharon sighs, “You know how competitive Stark and I can be and when I decided to act by ethics and told him I was considering offering you the leadership position at Shield’s tech department he decided he would do the same and dared me to a chess match, where you would be the prize.” She shrugs, “I’m sure he had some help, right Friday,” she raises her voice staring up to the air but gains plain silence as a response from the A.I, “He won and got to keep you and I got  stuck with my second option which is your ex, as you might already know.”

“Wow,” you whisper, not really sure what to say or feel, trying to process all of what you just heard.

“You’re not offended by the chess match, are you?” Sharon checks, tilting her head.

“No… I’m kinda… flattered, I guess.” You frown and Sharon gives you a satisfied smile. “But… I’m confused… That’s Stark’s job.”

“It’s your job now if you should accept it.” She grins wider, “I guess he’s been thinking about it for a while now and saw my offering as an opportunity. I know Pepper has been on his ass for him to loosen up from some responsibilities, and who better than you to take over?” She points up at the screen with your recent achievement.

You let out a breathy laugh, reality finally dawning. Not in a million years you thought that would happen but now that it is, you’re not gonna be modest, you kick ass in your job and you fucking deserve it.

“He’s on a mission with Nat and Steve now, so he asked me to come talk to you, hang on…” Sharon holdsup a finger, before grabbing a small device from her pocket, which you recognize as one of your projects. “Stark,” she says.

In a second the image of a very battered Tony surfaces on the air as the camera captures his face from under the suit.  

“Hey, Carter,” he greets with a smirk as you hear the sounds of blasts, shots and explosions. The man is in the middle of a damn battle while casually answering a call.  

“Stark,” Sharon answers just as casually, “I have her here with me, just delivered the news,” she says, turning his image to you.

“Hey, boss,” you give him a shy wave.

“Hey, kid.” He scrunches up his face, shooting a series of blasts before you listen to something exploding. “I think you’re sort of my boss now.” He focuses on you again, smirking.

“No, I’m not,” you laugh.

“No, you’re not. But, tell me, what’s your answer?”

“I take it, of course.” You decide, why in the world, wouldn’t you.

“Great. Party to celebrate when we come back. Gotta go, these damn Kree are the worst. Will not invite them.” He turns off and his image disappears from before you.

“Well, congratulations.” Sharon places the device back on her pocket, “Our departments work a lot together, so I think I win either way.”

A mix of emotions fill up your chest. You’re excited and happy and scared. Mostly excited, though…  “Holy shit,” you curse, digging your hands into your hair as a grin seems to twist your lips permanently.

“You need to celebrate…” Sharon adds, offering you a cheeky grin.

Fuck yeah, you need to celebrate. And you know exactly what, or better, who you wanna do.

~~~

“How the hell are you wet already?”

The words are spoken against your neck through licks and sucks, after Bucky’s fingers glided under your underwear and sank between your slick folds. As soon as he walked into your living room, he jumped on you with kisses and grabs, discovering you in such a state without his previous help.

Well, sort of without his help, actually. The thing is, after you got out of work that afternoon, you didn’t even need to call him or text him to propose your little celebration as you found a series of texts from “Bucky Sweet Tongue Barnes”  waiting for you. In the first, he was asking if you had any plans that night, and the others… oh, the others… the fucker described all sorts of filthy things he wanted to do with you.

After a quick answer for him to come over and a long bath, all the dirty details he used on his texts refused to leave your mind and you couldn’t help but spending the rest of the time you had alone before he arrived teasing yourself with your fingers, having all those images and flashes from your last encounters in your memory to keep you going.

“I-“ you gasp as he sucks that sensitive spot in your neck and his fingers meet your clit, “Those texts you sent me…” You tilt your head to give his lips more room, your hands roaming around the hard pattern of muscles on his back, “I-I’ve been touching myself.” You confess with the lack of pudency you’re becoming familiar with when you’re around him.

In your arms, you feel when his body freezes for a second, before he sucks harder on your neck, “Fuck… did you come today already?” He gropes your ass under your dress with the hand that isn’t in your pussy. 

Your eyelids flutter and you reach down to the front of his pants to feel the growing bulge, “Yes…”

“Goddammit, that’s hot,” he grunts, and then it all happens in a blur as he lifts you by hooking his hands under your thighs and places you seated over the dinner table.

He positions himself between your opened legs as lifting up your short dress out of his way and, while you swiftly work on the buttons and zipper of his jeans, he takes a condom out of his pockets and, after ripping the plastic off with his teeth he hands it to you.

His eyes cast down to see your fingers rolling off the latex around his rock hard cock and, as soon as you’re done and wrap your hand around him to feel his thickness, he wastes no time and pushes you backwards until your back meets the cold wood of your table. 

Acting by the frenzy that is all over his eyes, he swiftly pulls the small fabric of your underwear to the side, exposing your cunt just enough before he holds his cock and pushes himself inside you, making you cry out and your body jerk backwards. You always knew spending an exorbitant amount of money on a good table would pay off someday and you hold yourself fisting each side of the table.

He pulls your thighs up wrapping his hands on your knees, giving you no time to adjust before starting to pound into you.

You love that he fucks you like that. Hard and raw, the sting of the stretching mixed with the pleasure brought by his expert thrusts fogging your mind and his thickness and expert moves hitting sweet spots of yours, kicking the air out of your lungs. You love that in the few times you’ve been doing it in the last week, he already seems to know what you can take and always somehow goes a little further, a little different… like he knows something about yourself that you don’t, yet. That it’s the first time that you two can’t be bothered to wait and take off clothes or get to the bedroom. You love it.

It is all new to you, yes. For you sex has always been attached to some kind of affection or romantic feelings and, while that is all good and wonderful, you’re enjoying so much finding out this other side, where the only goals are to share pleasure and have fun. 

“So fucking sexy,” he groans through clenched teeth.

Your core twists in response and your cunt clenches around his cock, causing him to let out a grunt and quicken his pace even more, making it extra difficult to breathe properly. Oh, he’s found out that praise kink of yours and now he’s been using it wisely, so wisely…

He reaches over to pull down the stripe of your dress and exposes one breast. A loud moan slips out of you when he roughly kneads the soft flesh. He keeps the metal hand around one of your knees while the leg he let go in favor to give your breast some attention curls around his hips, jerking along with the punishing pace of his thrusts.

“Yeah, sweetheart, so sexy… I’ve wanted to have you like this ever since I first saw that sweet ass of yours,” he confesses right before leaning over to wrap his mouth around your nipple.

You’ve been horny the whole day waiting for the moment you would have his cock inside you just like that and the praise, as tacky as it may be, joined with the warmth of his wet tongue around your breast and the stimulation against your clit that the new position brings prompt the blast of ecstasy inside your core.

With a trembling moan, you let go the edges of the table to hold his body pressed to yours as his mouth moves from your breast to attack your neck. You roll your hips, trying to prolong the pleasure unleashed as his pace falters.

The fingers of both his hands dig into your hair, making a mess of it as he pulls out his cock almost completely before shoving it deeply and harshly one more time, grunting out his own release.  

“Fuck,” it slips from under his heavy breath before he clasps his lips on yours. The kiss is wet and sloppy and lazy as you have your legs and arms curled around his body, keeping him inside you.

Still feeling a little numb from the orgasm he just gave you – a thousand times better than the one you had given yourself- you gasp and chuckle through the kiss as he straightens up and pulls you with him. You tighten the hold of your arms and legs, as he conveniently holds you by your ass until he finds the couch and sits down with you straddling his hips. He breaks the kiss and lets his head fall on the backrest, his chest moving up and down as he tries to catch his breath.

You move up to let his cock slide off but he tightens the hold on your ass, keeping you in place, “Just… let me stay in a bit more, it feels so good,” he says, eyes shut, still resting his head back on the sofa.

“Alright,” you chuckle, straddling his face with your arms as you place your hands on the backrest. You find the request a bit odd but also sexy as hell. There he is, always a step ahead on what you don’t even know you think it’s hot…   

After a few more seconds, when his breath – and yours- seems to come back to normal, he straightens his head and looks down at where you still have just one breast exposed. He ticks his tongue, “Let’s not make the other one feel left out.” He pulls your other strap, letting now both of your breasts bare to him before he dips in, grabbing the up till now covered one with his lips.

You shake your head, laughing at his antics, “You seem pretty fond of them, huh?”

He lets go of the mound with a pop, looking up at you with an almost shocked expression on his face, “How could I not?” he gasps, like you’ve just offended him, “I don’t know how you see them in the mirror everyday and don’t touch yourself…” he squints at you before continuing, “You do, don’t you?”

You laugh harder, letting your head fall back and he smiles at you before going back to give your tits some attention, kissing and sucking one, then the other. Noticing that his cock never really softens completely inside you, you let him enjoy himself a bit more before speaking again, “Did you mean that?”

“What?” He leans back, looking up at you.

“You said you wanted to fuck me ever since you met me… is that serious? I didn’t even know you remembered me before we… started this.”

“First of all, I’m always serious, I never lie,” he says, adding some gravity to his tone, “Second of all, remember that night a while ago, when I chatted with you and your boyfriend at a Stark’s party and then your sexy ass talked about your work with technology with such passion… you knew exactly what you were talking about and, fuck…” he licks his lips, ”I rubbed one out for you later that night,” he smirks, clasping his hands behind his head.

Your jaw drops at the reveal before your face scrunches up, “That’s…gross?” you say the first word that comes to mind.

“But it’s true,” he shrugs, looking pretty comfortable with the confession, “and ever since I’ve been thinking about tapping that smart ass of yours.” He emphasizes his point by slapping your ass once.

Despite that and his choice of words - which makes your cheeks heat up - and your previous statement of being grossed out by the revelation, you decide you take that as kind of a compliment, which leads you to give him the news.

“You know?” you say, “I was promoted today. You just fucked the new leader of the Avengers/Stark tech department,” you grin when his practically hard cock twitches inside you.

“Wow, congratulations.” His eyes widen and he grins back at you. 

“Never thought I would meet someone with a technology kink,” you comment, laughing at his first reaction to the news.

“More of a smart as fuck brain kink, sweetheart,” he reaches behind you to slap your ass for the second time that night, making you shriek and laugh a bit harder, “Ok, we need to celebrate,” he states.

“I am celebrating,” you aim a mischievous smile at him, rolling your hips for good measure.

“Damn,” he breathes, but holds your hips still, “No, I mean, you’ve been in a relationship for ten years, tell me…” he squints at you, “When was the last time you partied your ass off?”

“Ahm…” you think hard trying to remember when it was, “College, I guess?”

“Shit…” he lowers his head before swiftly getting up, making you lunge your arms on his shoulders so you wouldn’t fall back as he walks to your bedroom, “Come on, let’s freshen up. This is huge news… I’ll take you to a real party now and then we can continue our private one later,” he promises.

~~~

As soon as you walk in the rooftop bar Bucky has chosen, you already decide you did good in accepting his offer. The place is gorgeous, sporting a modern, yet cozy decoration with small tables, sofas and puffs for those who want to sit. Dazzling lights flash on the dance floor right by a huge bar and the view of the city is mesmerizing while the beat of the music reverberates through your body.

Bucky pulls you by the hand through the sea of bodies. Thank god you chose one of the fanciest dresses of your wardrobe or else you wouldn’t fit in among the beautiful people crowding the place. Every once in a while, Bucky waves and nods at someone or a group of people. You can tell he’s a regular.  

He waves more excitedly to a group of women hanging on a mezzanine, before pulling you to that direction, “Come on,” he tilts his head back towards you with a smile, “You’ll love them.”

As soon as you approach the group, he puts his arm around your shoulders and introduces you to everyone, telling you the names of each stunning woman before you, Amanda, Emma, Jada, Alice and Brianna. They all friendly greet him and you with smiles, excited hellos and hugs, welcoming you two to join them, which you do.

“You know, Y/N was promoted today,” Bucky gushes and you smile at him.

“Oh, wow,” Amanda says through the cheerful congratulating words from everyone else, “This calls for champagne.” She then whistles and makes a sign for a bartender, who in a matter of seconds sends two bottles of fancy champagne to the group. 

A few minutes after the toast, you’re drinking and chatting with those women like you’ve been best friends your whole life, especially with Amanda, who goes out of her way to make you feel included. You can see how close they all are to Bucky, like he’s one of the gang, talking about any kind of subject in front of him and vice versa. Bucky stays by your side, and only when you’re completely mingled with the group he excuses himself to go grab what he called “a real drink” at the bar.

“He’s incredible, isn’t he?” Amanda nudges you when Bucky is at a distance he can’t hear.

“Oh yeah,” you nod, “Bucky’s a great guy.”

“She means in bed, dear,” Brianna clarifies with a giggle.

You take a look around the group to see them all giving you mischievous and knowing stares. Oh…

“Oh, did all of you…?” you point your finger at them, but you don’t have to complete the question

“More like all of this rooftop,” Brianna laughs, followed shortly by the others.  

“So, he’s amazing isn’t he?” Amanda insists, wiggling her eyebrows.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the fact that they all seem so friendly and open minded, but something makes you blurt out, “Amazing? He’s fucking fantastic.”

They all nod and verbalize their agreement, “I tell you all something,” Jada catches your attention, “That man drinks respect women juice daily and we owe him a toast. Here’s to Bucky,” she raises her glass.

“To Bucky.” You all mimic her through laughing and make a toast to the unsuspicious man at the bar.

As the conversation moves on and they all engage in different topics your gaze wanders to where he stands, holding a glass with some liquor that looks like whiskey in hands. But he’s not alone anymore. A statuesque blond is right beside him, laughing and touching his arm. You glimpse that flirting smile of him forming on his lips.

“You don’t mind do you?” Amanda’s voice makes you turn to her, spotting a questioning look on her face, “Because if you do… Girl, run away now, Bucky isn’t right for you.” There’s no malice on her voice, just a sincere warning tone.

You seize the moment to make an honest survey through your feelings. You’ve been warned by different people, Bucky included, and if there’s anything to worry about, Amanda is right, you should run now. As you keep your eyes on the two of them by the bar, you look and look and look inside, but find nothing that could be remotely taken as jealousy or something like that. If anything, it’s kind of liberating to know that you have so much fun with him and there’s no ugly, selfish feelings pulling you back. You feel like you could encourage the blonde on the flirting, because you know how damn incredible it can be…

Who would wonder that a class A womanizer like Bucky would be the source of such sheer sorority you’ve been experiencing that night…

“No,” you turn back to Amanda, shaking your head with a satisfied smile, “I don’t mind at all.”

The night goes on and Bucky comes and goes, chatting and drinking and laughing with you and your new little group of friends, taking you to dance, but also dancing with Amanda, Emma, Alice, Jada, Brianna and some others… A number of guys also approach you, take you to dance, buy you drinks and you end up with a few new phone numbers in your contact list. You party like you haven’t in a while and like you didn’t think women your age still did, which is stupid… You’ve been so caught up in the routine of your relationship with Eddie that you’ve forgotten there’s a whole world spinning out there.

An exciting and fun world.

“Hey,” the familiar voice reaches your ear and makes you smile as you’re on the dance floor with the girls. The metal hand curls around your belly and pulls you before your back brushes against his chest, “Having fun?” Bucky asks, lips on your ears.

“Yes, so much.” You tilt your head and place your hands over his while his hips sway with yours.

“Hummm,” he pulls you closer and runs the tip of his nose over the length of your neck, “I’m glad.”

“However…” you sigh, loving how his hips move in rhythm with yours, “I think I’m ready to continue our other party at home.”

“Funny,” he chuckles and his tongue darts out before he swiftly brushes it against your neck. It’s quick and very discreet, but enough to set your core into flames, “I was thinking the exact same thing.”

With that, you promptly let go of him and proceed to say goodbye to the girls. They all tell their farewells and wishes to see you again soon with knowing and excited looks.

~~~

“You were right, I had so much fun.” You wrap an arm around his elbow as you walk side by side through the streets of New York. The bar isn’t that far from your condo and when he suggested a walk back home you thought it was a good idea to check on the lively corners of the city, even with the heels. Also, he offered his leather jacket against the cold, which you promptly accepted.

“Oh, yeah, nightlife in New York nowadays is something we shouldn’t take for granted,” he smiles down at you, “And yeah, you had fun alright, I know there are a few extra numbers in your phone,” he winks.

You analyze his face and when you understand there’s nothing but playful teasing behind it, you answer, “Oh, yeah, oh my God,” you shake your head, “That was unexpected but fun. I might delete them all, though, things might get complicated and I’m not looking for any kind of complications right now.”

He smiles, seemingly satisfied for you taking him out of the complicated category. “You and the girls seemed to get along real fine, too,” he comments.   

“They’re really great,” you nod, getting cozier in his arm as a gust of wind hits you, “They all think very highly of you, by the way,” you let the smirk in your lips tell him what you mean.

“I work hard for that, sweetheart.” He chuckles and wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You let out a laugh, “That you do.” You look up at him from under your lashes, before whispering, “I can’t wait to see you working hard.”

He halts his pace, making you abruptly stop with him. You shoot him a questioning look, as he gazes down at you, his face lightening up like the best of ideas has just crossed his mind. Without further notice he unwraps his arm from yours and takes your hand instead, pulling you with him at a faster pace as he turns on the corner, changing the course that would lead to your home.

“Hey,” you call out, as you try not to trip on your heels as he pulls you, deflecting from the other patrons and leading the way, “What the hell are you doing?”

He looks back at you with that sinful smile of his, “Don’t wanna leave you waiting.”

Something flips inside your stomach in anticipation at his statement and, as he turns around a few corners, the streets seem to get less busy. When you reach a particular spot, he checks each side, like surveying the area before pulling you to a dark alleyway you haven’t even seen before.

As soon as you out of the street he pins you against the wall and crashes his lips on yours, shoving his leg between yours to keep you in place with the help of the firm grip of his metal hand on your hips.

Like a puppet on his strings you wrap your arms around his neck and respond to the inebriant kiss immediately even if you’re still astonished by it all and when he squeezes one of your tits through the fabric of your dress and his mouth leaves your mouth to drag kisses over your neck, you tilt your head to see the light peeking from the streets, so close to where you’re both standing. 

“Bucky…” a gasp swallows your words for a second as he presses his thigh harder against your pussy, “What the hell, someone can see us,” you remind him, knowing exactly where this will lead if you don’t stop him now. You can already feel the pool of heat in your lower body as he playfully nibbles on your lower lip before going back to your neck.

“Isn’t it exciting, to think someone can spot us while I have my dick inside you.” He licks a long stripe from your neck to behind your ear.

The mention of his dick makes you let out a wanton moan, but you’re not won over yet, “It’s a fucking dark alley in the middle of the night in New York City, Bucky. We will be murdered here.”

At this, all of his enticing movements pause, and he dips his head back with an offended glare at you, “Do I have to remind you who you’re literally fucking with?” he asks, outrage all over his voice, “The Winter Fucking Soldier, White Wolf and shit… the strongest Avenger,” he chant the names and you can’t help but chuckle a bit, “Don’t worry,” leans over to resume from where he stopped, “I can fuck you and protect you at the same time.”

You need no more convincing since that’s actually damn hot and you’re more than sold to the exciting game when he flips you over and kneels down behind you. Listening to your own erratic heartbeats prompted by the electrifying danger of it all, you sprawl your hands on the wall as he sinks his hands under your dress and pulls your underwear down your legs, placing it in his pocket once you step out of it.

He bunches your dress up high enough to give him room and you shudder and sucks in a breath as he props one kiss, then another on the back of each of your thighs, “Try to be quiet…” he says, but swiftly adds, “Not too quiet, though, I love to hear you.”

With that he spreads your legs a little farther and sinks his tongue into the apex of your thighs from behind.  Your jaw drops and your knees buckle as he holds your hips still against his face. While his tongue curls around your sensitive pussy your mind blanks and you whimper, trying to suppress a moan, not forgetting you’re right in the open air of New York. Your hips roll against his face, seeking for more friction to untie the knot forming inside you.

But too soon he ceases contact and stands up. You express your disappointment with a whine, face snapping to glare at him behind you.

He’s wearing a smirk on his face as he grabs another condom from his pocket. You wonder how many he has in stash, “You wanted to come on my mouth, didn’t you?” he teases, holding the package between his teeth as he unbuckles his pants.

“Of course,” you shamelessly admit under your breath.

“I know sweetheart… But my dick is aching for you, too,” letting his pants and boxes fall along his legs, he unleashes his hard cock and proceeds on putting on the condom, throwing the plastic package aside, “I was prepping you for it,” he continues, eyes fastened on yours as he speaks, “You want it, don’t you? You want my dick? Come all over it?”

You lick your lips and your gaze falls to look at his rock hard cock, feeling your wetness dripping down your inner thighs. Now that’s an offer you can’t refuse, “Yes, I wanna soak that fucking dick,” you groan, not caring how tacky all the dirty talk may be, since it all sounds sexy as fuck now, clouding all of your senses.

“Shit… take it then, sweetheart.” Guiding his cock with his hand, he pulls your hips and in one single shove he’s inside you.

You let out a silent cry and rest your cheek on your hand against the wall, as the other reaches down to your clit, to help ease down the sumptuous twists inside your core as he pounds into you.  

The sounds and lights of the cars passing by on the street right next to you reminds you how exposed you are and fuck if you’re not gonna come quicker than you ever did as Bucky holds your hips with both of his hands, moving them as fast as he pleases, thrusting them back against his cock. You can feel the fire reaching its peak inside you.

“So fucking wet,” he whispers, breathing hard as he fucks any remaining signs of better judgement out of you and you know it won’t be long for him, either.

You let out a loud moan and it prompts him to pull you pressed against his chest and cover your mouth with his hand, “Shhh.” His hot breath coats your ear and your head falls back on his shoulder as he keeps the delicious pounding of his cock inside you with no hint of mercy.

The damn alley spins around you and you wish you weren’t wearing his leather jacket now as the beads of sweat run down your forehead.

He must’ve heard something in advance because right at that moment a group of people walk by the sidewalk, chatting and laughing. All they have to do is to glance to the side and spot you two in that interesting situation. The danger, the fact that you’re so exposed while Bucky dicks you down against the wall out in the open triggers your orgasm and you let out a strangled sound, muffed by his hand, as the shocks of pleasure washes over your body and weakens your limbs.  

“Shit,” Bucky whispers against your cheeks and his cock pulses inside you, reacting to your cunt squeezing and soaking his cock as you reach your climax.

You wanna feel that again and acting under the influence of a rush of boldness, you reach behind between the two of you and gently massages his bouncing balls. You feel the pulsating of his cock between your walls again and that cheeky move of yours makes him come undone. You only wish that the group is far enough to not hear the reckless and loud moan that slips out of his lips against your ear, his whole body tensing against yours.

As you fight to catch your breath and his hand leaves your mouth to descend to one of your breasts, a long line of courses is recited in your ear before you can feel his body finally relaxing.

Your eyes flutter shut when you sense the brush of his lips on your neck. The next words he breathes against your heated skin makes you beam, loving that he says that while his cock is still buried deep into you, like a damn reward.  

“Congratulations on your promotion, sweetheart.”

~~~

Tag List for this story: CLOSED

Permanent Tag List: OPENED.

[beardedniall]

Let me treat ya

Author’s note: Calling the numbers from the NTMY video inspired me to write some phone sex smut with Niall. This is seriously 80% filth and 90% dialogue.

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: NSFW, lots of dialogue

-

He leaned against the headboard of the welcoming bed, his eyes wandering through the hotel room as the familiar sound of the dial tone hit his ear. It was 1.30am in Los Angeles right now, meaning it was 9.30am in London where you were hopefully already awake and willing to pick up your phone.

“Hey handsome”, your soft voice greeted him at the other end of the line, followed by an audible yawn.

“Did I wake you up?”

“Nah, don’t worry. I’m in bed playing with my phone.”

“Classic.”

“It’s my day off, let me. Shouldn’t you be fast asleep by now though?”

“I should… but I wanted to talk to you before I go to bed.”

You weren’t sure how to take that. It wasn’t like Niall and you were dating. You had been seeing each other for a few weeks now, got along well, hooked up a few times and maybe you were on the road to properly dating but for now, it was pretty much just a lot of texting and chilling at his house with a pinch of sex. It hadn’t occurred to you that he would keep up the regular phone calls even while he was busy doing promo in the States.

“Want me to sing you a lullaby?”, you suggested in a teasing tone to ease the awkward tension, getting a light chuckle from him in return.

“I think your speaking voice is enough, but thank ya.”

“How was your day?”

“Busy. Had interviews for magazines pretty much all day. They’re kinda exhausting because you gotta be careful with your words. Never know what they’re making out of it, ya know?”

“And did you say anything controversial?”

“Don’t think so. But some of them pull the wildest shit out of their arse.”

“You’ll wrap them all around your little finger with the promo pics alone though. I saw the black and white ones you posted earlier and you’re looking hot as fuck.”

“Oh ya think so?”

The smug smile on his face was almost audible through the phone.

“I dig the glasses. Gotta wear them more often here.”

“Noted.”

“You should really go to bed, Niall. Dark circles are not a good look on you.”

“Okay first, ouch. Second, I’m not tired and I’d rather talk to you.”

A big grin spread over your lips as you buried the side of your face into your pillow. He shouldn’t have been allowed to be sweet while he was five thousand miles away and you wouldn’t be able to see him for at least another week.

“You’re still in bed, right?”, his raspy voice brought you back to the phone call. Was he speaking deeper on purpose now?

“I am.”

"And when do you have to get up?" 

"Not any time soon."

Just the thought of you in bed, probably wearing a pair of panties and an old t-shirt like you always did, made his blood rush downwards.

“Wish you were with me right now.”

He set up one of his legs and cupped his growing cock through his boxers, exhaling louder than he intended to.

“Are you jerking off to this?”, you giggled.

“I’m not a creep. But I can't help but think about lying next to you in bed. What ya wearing?" 

"Yeah not creepy at all."

There was a rustling sound coming from your end as you put him on speaker and got in position on the bed so your leg was peeking out from underneath the blanket and in the bottom right corner of the photo you were taking, you could see a pair of black panties hugging your hips.

Wish you were here with me too was the message you added before pressing send.

The little ringtone let him know that he just received a text. After tapping on the photo, he bit his lower lip and adjusted his cock between his legs.

“Is that all you’re wearing?”, he asked. There was a little bit of amusement in his voice but the lust outweighed it.

“Sorry, gotta disappoint you.”

The next picture you sent him was of your t-shirt that you had pulled up to your chest to tease him with a little bit of underboob while your free hand lied on top of the fabric.

“Can I see more of those, darling? If you’re fine with it.”

“Wait, let me get up.”

You crawled out of bed and sat down in front of your big mirror, fixing your hair even though you would make sure that your face wasn’t on any of those pictures. When you felt confident in your appearance, you exposed your boobs just to cover the middle with your arm before you took another photo and sent it to him.

“Just don’t send me anything back, yeah? Don’t wanna be the reason why your nudes get leaked.”

He smiled to himself at you words. Usually, everything between him and a woman was fifty-fifty. If she did something for him, he would do the same for her and more. But this was a different situation and it warmed his heart more than he wanted to admit that you acknowledged that he wouldn’t be able to take part in this little game. Not because he expected you to send him photos of your body for nothing in return, but because certain photos of him could get him into a lot of trouble.

“What about you though? Don’t want these to be seen by anyone else either.”

“I doubt that hackers are interested in the thirst trap of a random chick.”

“You’re not random.”

“They don’t know that.”

His worries were washed away by the next picture. You had taken it over your shoulder, capturing your back and the curve of your ass, your panties showing off more than Niall would have expected.

“Shit babe, you’re making me fucking hard.”

“That’s what I was going for”, you grinned and took one last photo where you slipped three of your fingertips under the waistband of your panties as if you were about to touch yourself. Then you got back into bed because you felt like lying down was a good idea with what was about to happen.

“Are you jerking off now?”

“‘m not. Doesn’t feel right without your consent.”

“Well, Mister Niall Horan, I hereby allow you to jerk off to my photos.”

“You’re too good to me. Gonna put those fingers to good use too?”

You bit your lip and murmured in agreement before setting up your legs, spreading them and sliding a hand down your center.

“Yours feel so much better though.”

“I bet they do, love. Are you wet for me?”

“Hmm so wet.”

It was true. The teasing, the images in your mind of Niall touching himself and how sexy you had felt while taking those pictures for him had made you desperate for some touching. You could easily slide two fingers in while the inside of your palm put some friction against your clit.

“Would love to taste that pretty pussy.”

An uncontrolled moan left your lips. You weren’t expecting him to be so straightforward but it was hotter than you would have thought.

“You’re so good with your mouth always.”

“Yeah? You like it when I eat your sweet little cunt?”

“Niall”, you whimpered while you kept fingering yourself, your pussy making some filthy sounds that you were sure Niall could hear too.

“I bet you look breathtaking right now with your fingers on your wet cunt and your tits out and your pink cheeks.”

His words reminded you that you should probably take off your t-shirt and give your boobs some attention so you put down the phone next to you and peeled the piece of clothing over your head with one hand before throwing it away. Now you could talk to Niall as if he was lying right next to you while playing with your pussy and your tits at the same time.

“What do you look like right now? Are you naked?”, you whispered as you pinched one of your nipples and closed your eyes, imagining it was him.

“I am now. Touching my cock to the the thought of your body. Would love to kiss you right now.”

You blushed and you were glad he couldn’t see it.

“Me too. Making out with you and wrapping my fingers around your thick dick. With your thigh between my legs so I can ride it.”

“Fuck, babe”, he groaned at your words and you could hear the sound of him pumping himself.

While he talked about what he would do to your body, how he would kiss you, how he would press you down on his thigh, you had rolled over and digged through the drawer of your bedside table. When you had found what you were looking for, you gave your full attention back to Niall and his moans while he was jerking off to the thought of fucking you. The toy you had grabbed was on a low setting as you pressed it against your dripping pussy.

“Is that a fucking vibrator?”, he gasped as he recognized the quiet buzzing sound on the other end of the phone.

Instead of replying, you sent him a photo of the toy inside of your panties.

“Fuck, such a naughty girl. I’d tease you to no end with that thing if I was there.”

“Tease me? I think you should make me come as quickly as possible with it.”

“Nah, you’d have to earn that.”

“Earn that how?”

“By sucking me off like a good girl would.”

You closed your eyes again and imagined kneeling between his legs, wrapping your lips around his cock while looking at him. He would stroke your cheek, call you his good girl before throwing his head back and enjoying the blowjob. 

“Yes I’d be so good for you, Niall. I’d lick your tip, then take as much of you in my mouth has I can.”

“Damn right you would.”

“And you’d make me gag on it, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck yes, darling. You’d take my cock so well.”

“Such a good girl for you.”

Niall zoned out for a second. His mind was flooded with images of you sucking his dick, of your big eyes looking up at him, how you hollowed your cheeks and closed your lips around the base of his shaft while deepthroating him. His cock was twitching in his hand and he knew he couldn’t hold himself back much longer.

“‘m close, pet. Fuck, I’m gonna come so hard.”

“Where would you wanna come if I was with you?”

“Would make you swallow all of it. Like the good girl you are.”

You hesitated for a second but then you decided to just go for it, hoping it would push him over the edge and not make him cringe. As you opened your front camera again, you parted your lips and stuck out your tongue to take a photo that showed you from the bottom half of your face to the swell of your breasts, careful that it wouldn’t give you away but still let him get the hint. After pressing send, you whispered “Please come for me”.

He didn’t know what happened to him as he heard the ringtone of a text. While he was still lost in thought about you, he grabbed his phone with his free hand and hastily opened the picture. His hips bucked up at the sight and the quick back to back moans told you that he was coming. In his mind, he spurted all of his cum into your mouth, making you swallow it while he cupped your cheek and called you his good girl again. As he came down from his high, his breathing steadied and he blinked a few times to get back to reality.

“Fuck” was all you got to hear from him at first.

“Now you should be tired enough, hm?”

“Not enough to leave you high and dry.”

“It’s alright, babe, you should go to sleep.”

“Forget it, Y/N. You still got that vibrator going?”

“Yes.”

“Put it on a higher setting. And let it go. You’re still wearing your panties, right? So it’s not going anywhere?”

“No it’s… oh shit, no they’re keeping it there.”

“Good. How does it feel?”

“It’s… different. It’s makes my whole pussy vibrate… but I need more.”

“You’ll get more, pet. Now what about your tits? Give them some love.”

You did as you were told. While the toy was buzzing freely inside of your panties, you had both hands to cup your boobs and squeeze them. Your thumbs were brushing over the hard nipples, making you bite your lower lip.

“Wish I could see you right now. And be there to play with your tits and suck on your nipples.”

“Niall please”, you whimpered, still occupied with your chest as your pussy was craving for more.

“What do you want, darling?”

“Please let me touch my clit. Need to come.”

“Oh you need to come?”

“Yes please. I’m so wet for you and I’ve been such a good girl.”

“You have, haven’t ya? Alright, pet. Take the vibrator and hold it against your clit.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice as you grabbed the end of the toy and positioned it at an angle that the part the vibrated the most was right where you needed it the most. Your whole body jerked by the feeling that rushed through your veins, spreading goosebumps over your skin and clouding your mind. A desperate moan left your lips.

“Feels good, yeah? God, I bet your pretty cunt is throbbing.”

“Can’t take it much longer, Niall, please. I’m gonna come.”

“Oh no, you can. I’m gonna count down from ten and when I’m at one, you can come. Sounds good?”

You weren’t sure if you could stick to this deal but you agreed anyway because if there was one thing that made your orgasm even more intense and exciting, it was your sexual partner telling you when to have it.

“10… 9.... 8…”

The pauses within his countdown were draining. You could have made it easier for yourself by easing the pressure that you put on your pussy with the toy but you knew Niall wouldn’t if he was in physical control of this so you suffered through his painfully slow counting.

“7… 6… so close, darling.”

Your hips twitched and all that kept you from coming was whining and biting your lip to scrape up the last bit of self-control that you had in you.

“5… 4… 3…”

That was it. 

There was no way you could hold back your orgasm any longer so even though you weren’t allowed to come yet, the knot in your lower stomach exploded. You moved your hips up and down, back and forth against the vibrator, riding yourself through your high and pinching one of your nipples to give yourself the extra bit of pleasure while flashes shot through your throbbing clit. Your pussy clenched around nothing, missing Niall’s fingers, or his cock, or whatever he would have been willing to give you. The orgasm was long and intense, a result of the teasing and the build-up. You only came down from it slowly as the overstimulation hit you and you had to turn off the toy. Your other hand was caressing your boobs, making you shiver whenever you brushed over a sensitive nipple. When you realized that you had come too soon, you were brought right back to Niall on the other end of the phone who had been quiet for the past few seconds or minutes, you weren’t sure anymore.

“I’m… sorry?”

“Don’t be, love. Enjoyed yourself there, huh?”

“Y-yeah… yeah it was… wow, it was pretty intense.”

“‘m glad. But I gotta think about what I’m gonna do with you when I get back.”

You weren’t sure if that was a threat or a promise.

[almostrealdudes]

The Heat (Peter Parker x fem!S/O)

A/N: Hi. Hello there. How are you, my dudes? I am here to welcome you into my weird ass journey on researching spiders and their sexual tendencies. Starting with me thinking about what else could a spider bite give Peter beside his strength and senses, oh wait, senses? As in sensitivity? Hold on what if— Then skip to me googling such things as “spider sex” and “the most NSFW spider sex practices.” My searching history is… pretty questionable, to say the least. Basically, I was searching for something like “spider heat.” I found nothing similar, although spiders are indeed sex freaks, and not in a cute way. However, although spiders don’t have heats, I decided that Peter Parker will. You know, for content. This piece, besides being a smut for smut’s sake, introduces a concept of Peter Parker going into heats. His spider senses provide him with hyper sensibility and periodical extreme horniness. This is totally inspired by the Sex Pollen series, written by the lovely @lousimusician. Be sure to read it, it's so goddamn good! I couldn't resist exploring a similar concept of unrelieved arousal. Also, that’s a long-ass introduction for a smut, lmao, let’s move on. Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!S/O Word count: 1.8k Warnings: Smut. This time not direct, but still strongly smut-related. Seriously, it’s so filthy. Just the way you like it Summary: After starting his sex life in a relationship, Peter found out his spider senses have a perk(debatable) that comes with his strength and the sense of danger. It’s the reoccurring heat - a terrible sense of horniness, which can only be relieved through sex. And we all know how that goes.

PART 2

                                                         * * *

She tried to always be with Peter during his heat periods, because, first, it was a serious productivity block and there was no chance Peter could do anything in heat and second, to put the sex itself aside, it was a serious torture for him; his sensitivity being through the roof, Peter couldn’t even lie still, because anything his skin touched caused a huge wave of arousal to go over his body, sending Peter into spasms and shudder. Peter and she were tracking his heats: marking them to be able to prepare in advance, canceling plans and staying in when it happened. They weren’t happening that often, every six months or so, but exactly because they were rare it was easy to forget about them.

She really tried to stay with him. But as far as luck goes, there are always unfortunate exceptions. Peter was out in the city, patrolling the streets; he knew she had plans with her friends, so he wouldn’t see her until tonight, which was fine. They’ve been living together for a while now, and it wasn’t anything unusual. Peter was swinging in between the buildings when he felt his body tingle a bit. He was getting gradually warmer. He brushed it off at first: it was a sunny day out and he was under direct sunlight a lot. But then, the warmth started slowly travelling down to the lower part of his body and it hit him.

Fuck. Oh fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

He forgot. He absolutely forgot. How could he forget? He shot another string of webs but missed the building and nearly fell down, catching himself last moment and landing on a nearby roof sloppily, rolling head over heels. Catching his balance, Peter finally balanced himself and looked down: the bulge on his crotch was already growing bigger and his suit was not helping at all; it was emphasizing the problem if anything.

“Shit,” Peter mumbled. His breath was already heavy, and not from the web swinging he’s been doing. He was pretty far from their shared apartment and didn’t have a change of clothes or his phone with him. He had to make it back home before the heat became worse, cause if he’s late, he’ll be stuck somewhere in the city with an infinite huge boner, unable to move. Peter cursed again and quickly looked around, trying to understand his current location. Suddenly, the tightness of the suit started to feel even tighter than usual, and Peter’s cock twitched, forcing out the first mewl out of him.

He had to move fast.

Finding the right direction, he shot out the webs and proceeded to move through the city, as fast as he could. His body was growing hotter every second, his mouth was starting to salivate more intensely, and the head of his penis was beginning to hurt as if the heat somehow saw the discomfort of his position and rushed to catch him before his return. Peter’s mind was slowly going hazy and casting off into various sexual images. He started thinking about his girlfriend: her hands were roaming his body; he swore he could feel the wetness of her lips on his skin. There she was, caressing his earlobe with her teeth, slowly getting down on him, unzipping his pants and—

“No no no no no, you stop that,” Peter panted, shaking his head. He was getting close to home, as the tall skyscrapers gradually changed into shorter apartment buildings. But she was also getting close, her lips dangerously near his already pulsating member. Peter’s cock twitched again, and he shot his webs past the building, losing his grip and falling down. Thankfully, he was swinging pretty low and his fall onto some street wasn’t as painful as it could be. The impact sent his body into a spasm from oversensitivity, and Peter moaned loudly as he tried to get up. Looking up, already unable to see clearly, Peter saw people gathering around him, taking out their phones. One of them reached their hand and touched his elbow, helping him up. A light human touch almost sent Peter into oblivion, because it felt like someone wrapped their lips around the head of his cock. He was already leaking precum, and this was a terrible sign: he had minutes before his body would reach the heat in its entirety. The image of his girlfriend was back. Resting against asphalt on his elbows, Peter suddenly saw her underneath him, her tongue out, grinding against his hips. His cock was so hot now, it felt like he was ins i d e  h e r

Peter whimpered as the image of his girlfriend disappeared again. He was losing it. Using the last bits of his strength, he looked up to try and understand where he was. And thank god, he recognized the neighborhood. Their apartment building was right around the corner. He only needed to web himself up one last time and swing into the window.

“Hey, Spiderman, you alright?” someone asked in concern.

“I’m f-fine,” Peter whined and shot the web in front of him. Gladly, it clung onto the wall and allowed him to yank himself up in the air one last time before shooting another web right near their apartment’s window, which oh my god was left open. Peter flew inside in one motion, collapsing onto the floor. He immediately pressed a button on his chest and released his body from the suit, moaning as it slid down his skin, which felt like dozens of hands caressing him. His girlfriend was back underneath him, holding his cock against her flaming hot folds

Her image was dispersed by Peter’s saliva dripping onto the ground from his parted lips. He whimpered, completely out of breath, struggling to close his mouth. Shaking, Peter got up and made his way to the nightstand to grab his phone.

the heat we forgot babe come back please come back

He finally climbed onto the bed, taking his pants off on the way. Grabbing his cock, he squeezed it, trying to relieve the pressure but ending up only adding more to the tip. It was leaking lavishly, making Peter whine without rest. He closed his eyes shut and bit on his lip, trying to hold himself together. His body was on fire: his senses were through the roof and even the slightest contact of the sheets with his skin, the smallest motion around the bed sent a jolt of arousal through him, making him moan. He felt like the entirety of his body was one huge erogenous spot, and he was being teased, touched and licked all over and at the same time, nothing was actually being done to him, and his body longed for these sensations with desperation.

A moaning mess, Peter turned himself over, pressing his face into the pillow, and started jerking himself off vigorously, in fast rough motions. His girlfriend was right at his ear, losing it, whining his name, as his palm turned into her folds, similarly wet from all the precum leaking all around his shaft. Salivating all over the pillowcase, Peter brought himself extremely close to an orgasm, but his arousal stopped moments before the very peak and did not move any higher, denying him the relief. Peter sobbed, biting harder onto his lip, buckling his hips into the mattress, desperate for facilitation. That was the worst part of it all: Peter was not able to orgasm without his girlfriend. Such intense excitability needed direct contact with a pu—

“Fu-uck,” Peter moaned, unable to even think of that word anymore. He had no sane thoughts left in his head. All there was were endless images of his cock sliding in and out of his girlfriend’s cunt, her tongue running up and down his length, moans, wetness, friction, and continuously growing hotness. Grabbing his phone again with his free hand, Peter looked at the chat, hoping to see an update.

But there was none.

His messages had the ‘received’ check, but they were still unread.

Of course. She’s with her friends, she probably doesn’t even have her phone near her. If she never reads those messages and only finds out after eventually getting home… Peter didn’t know if he could make it through the day. He wasn’t even sure if he could make it through the next hour. He could feel his cock pulsating, it was pounding in his ears and sending impulses through his entire figure, teasing every inch of his body.

“Ple-ease,” he sobbed, coiling in desperation, tears prickling in his eyes. Peter was on an unending edge. And he didn’t know how much else he would last.

                                                        * * *

She loved spending time with her friends. They kind of separated since high school, but their meetings, although now happening less often, were always filled with life updates and stories, because everyone had a ton and a few kilos of info they were willing to share with each other.

“So, yeah, although it has been two dates already, I’m still not sure if he’s boyfriend material,” one of the girls ended, shrugging her shoulders. The other one, sitting next, quickly caught the thought.

“By the way, about boyfriend material,” she stirred the drink in her glass with a straw, “how’s the nerd king doing?”

No names were called, but it was pretty obvious the girl was referring to Peter. “The Nerd Queen,” as she has been hailed as, jerked her head upwards at the change of topic.

“He’s great,” she said, fixing her hair.

“Is he still doing that Stark Internship of his?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty busy,” she smirked to herself, images of Peter in his Spiderman suit swinging around the city passing through her head.

“Damn, I wish I had such a solid job opportunity. I bet he doesn’t have to worry about his future at all!”

“Of course not, it’s only fair! With brains like his…”

“It’s not perfect. Yeah, it’s a solid job, but it’s… pretty tough,” she said, now recalling all the times she had to fix Peter up after his missions. Oh, about Peter.

“Actually, thanks for reminding me. I should probably check on him, see if he’s done working.”

She took her bag, which was hanging on her chair and calmly searched for the phone. Finally getting a hold of it, she took it out to find a few pending new messages from Peter. Speak of the devil, she thought. Her cheerful demeanor, however, was quickly gone when she read the content of the texts.

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit.

“The heat!”

She jumped up, her heart beating like insane. These messages were sent three hours ago. How long has he been like this? Oh no. Oh, she's so stupid! How could she forget? Why didn't she look at the phone sooner? This is bad.

“The heat?...” one of her friends raised her brow, looking at her in confusion. Realizing she said it out loud, her lips parted, her mind searching for an explanation.

“…er.”

“Er?”

“The heater. I-I-I forgot to—to—to turn off the heater!”

“Are you okay?”

“I gotta go! I’ll see you later, okay?”

She grabbed her bag and took off, running as fast as she could.

“Oh, Peter, please, hang in there. I’m on my way.”

_________

PART 2

[always-andshewrites]

In chapter 2 Katniss has a talk with Madge and inadvertently learns some new information, pushing her to have a talk with her dad. Peeta initiates a talk with Mr. Everdeen, thinking he is going to get scolded for his and Katniss' "late night visits" only to have Mr. Everdeen thank him for helping his family out all those years ago. Dylan takes Katniss to the secret place in the woods where she hopes to get some answers, only to have more questions. Haymitch (with inspiration from Hazelle) does a nice thing for Madge; Poppy chats with her dad with a fancy coin that disrupts the Capitol's "bugs" with an idea to share it with K & P.; Madge and Katniss have "girl talk" and we even get a little bit of Madge/Prim. Katniss wakes up blindfolded, as Peeta whisks her away to the woods for some "alone time" before the tour. Katniss and Peeta wake Haymitch up and on their way home they see a car in his driveway... It can only be one person, right?In Chapter 3 Katniss and Peeta come face to face with the devil himself . . . And let the games begin . . .

Summary:

Katniss and Peeta made it out of the arena together, but little do they know the games are only beginning. Who can they trust as secrets are exposed and identities are revealed? This is the sequel to "Changing the Game"; a Hunger Games - Catching Fire rewrite. Told in several different character POV's.

Chapter 3 - Deal with the Devil

| Peeta |

Using my free hand to open the door because my other hand is being held hostage by the death grip from Katniss’ hand, I slowly push the door open.  I tense up when I feel my heart begin to accelerate from the thought of some Capitolite laying their filthy hands on any of my things.  It’s true that this is my home, but technically, it is the property of the Capitol, and thus, belongs to President Snow.  However, the thought of him or any of his goons in my home sends a murderous rage festering inside me.

The moment my foot passes the threshold my head snaps to the left, meeting Katniss' stare.  Both of us immediately recognize the all too familiar rancid aroma of blood and roses filling the air, informing us, without a doubt, who our intruder is.

‘Snow.’ Katniss conveys, casting me a worried glance and gripping even tighter onto my hand.

No one appears to be on the main level of the house, so we tiptoe, quietly making our way up the steps and to the second floor.  Stealthily, we creep down the hallway, eager to face our intruder, yet anxious at the same time.  I instantly take notice of the door to my art studio, which is always, without fail kept shut and locked up tight; is slightly ajar.  It is what grabs my attention, confirming that something is amiss.  All of our friends and family; or really anyone who visits us knows to steer clear of that room, aware of what lies beyond the threshold.

Curiosity overpowers our fear, and together we make our way into that room.  This is the one and only room I ask Katniss to stay out of, not because I have anything to hide but because I know the sight of my paintings will most likely trigger her gag reflex, in addition to causing her now dormant nightmares to return.  They are not so much paintings, but a visual timeline of each of my nightmares, a vivid recollection of our time in the arena.  

When I glance down the row of paintings, for the first time I see them as an onlooker would and cannot help but notice how each one is more vibrant than its neighbor.  Most likely because the nightmares become more lucid and lifelike the closer the Victory Tour gets.

Katniss doesn’t want or need a visual to remind her of the horrors we faced in the arena. But for me, it’s like . . . like a form of therapy.  It’s like if I have the ability to remove the images from my mind and transfer them onto a canvas; by turning them into a still life portrait, something tangible, it grants me control; the power to lock them away forever, or even burn them if that’s what I wanted to do.

As much as I want to forget the horrors we faced and as much as I want to expunge the memories from my mind, at the same time I don’t want to forget.  If I forget, then who would remember Thresh and Rue?  And what about the other tributes?  No, I need to remember, it’s what gives me the motivation to continue living my life.  The drive to fight our battle.

Once the door is open, we see the backside of a man with fluffy snow-white hair.  He is dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, slowly pacing the length of the room.  His hands are clasped behind his back, giving a slight nod here and there, as if offering his approval at the paintings lining the wall.

“Dammit— Lucy . . . Kill . . . Mock—jay . . .” I think I hear him mumble to himself just as his body tenses for a moment.  I am instantly intrigued and wonder who this “Lucy” is.

‘Did you—’ I meet Katniss’ eyes, curious as to if I’m hearing things.  She nods, confirming my sanity.

'Peeta, I'm scared.'  She shudders, squeezing my hand a little tighter, if that is even possible.  I reciprocate, entwining our fingers, assuring her that I am not going anywhere.

'It's going to be okay; he's not going to hurt us.' I tell her, though not quite certain myself.  It is moments such as these that I am grateful for whatever forces have bestowed us with our telepathic link.  The ability to communicate silently while in the presence of others has proven to be more than . . . useful.

“Aghhem . . . Excuse me, can I help you?”  I announce our presence, clearing my throat to grab his attention.  I would recognize that snowy white hair anywhere, I do not need to see his face to know his identity, but I still need him to turn around and face us.

“These are quite remarkable.”  President Snow takes his time turning around as he compliments the painting behind him, presenting his face with an approving smirk.  This particular painting details one of his ferocious mutts from the arena; a squirrel foaming at its mouth fills the page, while Katniss and I are drawn as miniscule beings in the far bottom left corner of the canvas.  I am leaning over the side of the cornucopia gripping firmly onto Katniss’ calves while she aims the golden arrow at the Queen.  Why am I not surprised that this painting brings him pleasure?

On the other hand, I do not miss the way he sneers disapprovingly at the canvas portraying me and Katniss with our allies from District Eleven.  I have captured us high up in a tree with our friends, seeking refuge from those who mean us harm.  Katniss and I are settled in our sleeping bag on a branch; just below us are Thresh and Rue in an almost mirroring position.  I remember that night so clearly as we swapped stories from our district’s.

“President Snow, what an honor, what—” Katniss begins to offer pleasantries, but the deleterious man in front of us cuts her off before she brings it to completion.

“I think we’ll make this whole situation a lot simpler by agreeing not to lie to each other.  What do you think?”  Snow says with his affected Capitol accent and a hint of arrogancy. His lips are plump and full, the skin appearing painfully tight as he speaks, causing me to believe they must be surgically altered.  Lips that full just aren’t natural.

‘I think it’s meant to highlight his features.’ Katniss quips and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to mask my amusement.

“Yes, I think that would save time.”  Katniss affirms, her voice confident and steady as she stands tall.  She has one hell of a poker face but she can’t fool me.  She is utterly terrified, as am I.

Snow continues to marvel over the neighboring paintings for a moment before a sly grin appears on his face.  He follows it up with a nod of approval and then his eyes are back on me.  “I heard you were talented Mr. Mellark, but I just had to see it for myself.  I would never believe that someone from as lowly a district as Twelve could produce such . . . works of art.”  He begins, slithering to the far corner of the room and taking a seat in a chair behind a desk.  Wait a minute, where did that desk come from?  Before today, this room contained only my artwork, an easel, a handful of blank canvases, various containers of paint, my brushes, and a few other random art supplies.  Either I’m losing it or, or— did he bring this furniture with him?  Is it meant to . . . intimidate us?

'What do you think he wants?' Katniss presses, never removing President Snow from her line of sight.

“Please, why don’t you have a seat?”  Snow affirms, motioning for us to take a seat in the sophisticated looking high back chairs in front of him.  However, I get the distinct impression the “please” was not merely a request.  Katniss and I take a seat, refusing to release our grip on the other’s hand and scoot our chairs closer to the other so that our knees are brushing.

'I have no idea, but I have a feeling we are about to find out.  And . . . where did the desk and chairs come from?'

‘No clue.’ She answers without missing a beat.

Unsure as to how I should respond to President Snow’s remark, I say the first thing that pops into my head.  “President Snow, my paintings will be on display in the Capitol in just a few weeks, so I know you didn’t come all the way out here just to see them.  Why don’t we forgo the pleasantries, and you can tell us why you have chosen to grace us with your presence.”  I assert, holding my head up high, recalling my lessons on proper etiquette with Effie as I come off as unperturbed.  I really hope he can’t see how utterly terrified I truly am.

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Beauty and the Witch

Credit for header images: x x x x

Summary: Deep in the dark forest, there’s a castle filled with magic and mystery, where no one would ever go if they could help it. But an adventurer runs from nothing, and she might come to regret it.

Sketchbook BatB AU for reasons

Notes: The beast form of the librarian is inspired by Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle, so if you need visual aid here it is

Also, with this fic, I officially have more Hilda fics written than fics for my other fandom! So I guess this is officially my main fandom, now

Read it on ao3

Hilda was lost.

It had taken her a while to accept it. Not because she thought she recognized her surroundings, but because an adventurer never got lost. That and because her mother had always warned her not to stray too far from the village when she was exploring the woods.

But it became impossible to deny that she had left the main road too far behind when she began to see snow raining down from the skies. In July. When minutes earlier she’d began feeling chilly, she thought that maybe it was just something from her head, or maybe it was the wind that came at nightfall, but snow was the final straw.

Twig, the small horse that belonged to Hilda and her mother, shivered with the cold as well, neighing as he too noticed that something was wrong. He grew more shifty with each step, stealing glances at the trees. He was also beginning to get stubborn, not obeying Hilda’s commands right away, making her grasp the reins with a stronger grip.

“Calm down, boy.” She said, leaning forward to pat Twig’s white fur. “It’s okay.”

The situation reminded Hilda of something she’d read one day, that if one traveled south enough, the seasons changed. Could that be what had happened? She supposed it was possible, but there was no way to know for sure. When she’d walked to their local bookseller and asked him to show her the place where the seasons switched (the equator, her book had called), he’d simply humphed and said that it was unbecoming of a lady to be that curious. She’d returned home that day feeling angered and frustrated; her mother, one of the only people she knew who saw curiosity as an exceptional trait, especially in ladies, had been able to soothe her with tales of more open minded towns. She hadn’t, however, had a book with a map she could show her daughter.

Maybe she should ask Frida if she had one. Her friend had also come from a background where the search for knowledge was encouraged. But she supposed that in order to do that, she’d need to get out of that forest first. That sure was beginning to look like the tricky part.

As the sky grew darker, she could feel her horse becoming even more restless, but now she understood it. As she looked at her sides, she saw big animals following them, their eyes shining in the gloom of the forest as they stealthily accompanied the young girl.

Hilda took a deep breath, bringing in that cold air to fill her lungs. She couldn’t panic. If the wolves realized she’d seen them, they’d surely attack. There was no way she could fight them, she’d have to figure something out and quick.

It wasn’t typical of her to let her mind be clouded by fear, but as Twig’s trot seemed to become more erratic, making her sway in her saddle, she could think of nothing to save her. In the middle of the forest, no one would hear her screams, and as fast as she ran, the wolves would catch up.

Her breathing was coming in jagged exhales when she heard a fallen tree branch snap under her horse’s hoof. As if they had been given a cue, three wolves, two from the left side of them and one from the right, leapt forward to attack them. The fastest wolf managed to bite one of Twig’s back legs before he broke into a full gallop, making Hilda lose her balance and almost fall backwards with the speed.

He ran along the road, the wolves howling behind them as they tried to catch up, and Hilda could hear other wolves gathering up in the woods around them. She frantically looked around for anything that could help, but at the speed Twig was going, she could barely pay a passing glance to her surroundings. And yet, the wolves gained ground.

The cold wind hit her face, making it hard to think as the snowflakes made her hair and clothes wet. Twig was not used to running like this, and Hilda knew he wouldn’t last much in this pace. Eventually, he’d get tired and collapse. And then the wolves would get to them.

She didn’t know if she’d spent minutes or hours in this mad chase, hoping for a village to appear or maybe for a hunter to find her, but eventually she saw the end of the road.

It led directly to a castle.

The building was dark and imposing, towers of stone rising to the sky. It looked abandoned, and incredibly sad, an aura of mystery emanating from it. The castle grounds were surrounded by spikes of metal that she supposed were a fence, albeit a deeply terrifying one from the distance. But still, it was shelter, and thus a blessing.

The only problem was that, as if by magic, the large gates seemed to be closing themselves as she approached.

She gasped when she realized this, and pressed her heels into her horse to ask for more speed, leaning forward and locking her knees around his torso in order to have stability.

“Come on, boy.” She whispered. “Just a little more, please”

The gate got closer, the entrance more narrow with each second, until the were finally able to cross it. The gate hit Hilda’s legs and ripped a part of her dress, but closed just in time to leave the wolves outside.

The girl let out a triumphant cry as Twig slowed down to a halt in front of the castle. Her ripped skirt didn’t bother her; as was her habit, she was wearing leggings under it, and had no trouble getting down from her horse when the danger was over. She could still hear the wolves howling and trying to break in, but she was positive the worst had passed.

“That was a close one.” She said as the took the reins from behind Twig’s neck and brought it over his face to guide him.

“I’ll see if there’s anyone inside. There must be a stable around here, maybe it’s better if you stay there.”

She did find a stable, and a peculiar one at that. There were lit torches and fresh straw, but not one horse. Still she let Twig get comfortable and eat something. He needed a chance to recover his strength.

Next, she went out into the gardens (she thought they were supposed to be gardens, at least. Aside from a few trees, everything was dead and the ground was covered in a thick layer of snow that wet her boots) and looked for the entrance. A grand stone staircase led to the main door, which she knocked and then waited. When no one answered, she knocked again.

“Hello?” She said, rubbing her hands on her arms to warm herself. “Is anyone in there? I didn’t mean to bother, but I got lost in the woods. May I come in?”

There was one more minute of silence before she pushed the door, which, surprisingly, opened up without her having to make a big effort. Unable to bear the cold and knowing that even if she was to spend the night at the stable with Twig, she should talk to her host, she entered the castle.

“I’m coming in.” She warned as she stepped into the entrance hall, her mouth opening in a silent gasp as she took it in. The ceiling was high and decorated with paintings that were too filthy to be seen properly. Books piled up on the floor, and another staircase led to a second floor. Though the grandeur of it all amazed her, she was even more struck by how whoever lived here had more books spread across their hall than Hilda had seen in her entire lifetime.

She heard a weird sound, almost like whispering, which brought her attention to a small wooden table at her left. There was no one there, so she supposed she had imagined the sound, but she noticed two beautiful objects: a bright red candelabra, with tree lit white candles, and a grey clock, which seemed to shine silver under the candlelight.

Hilda stretched her arm and grabbed the candelabra. The castle was gloomy, and she supposed a source of light would help in her search for signs of human life. She first went to the corridor at the right side of the staircase, finding her quest futile. She was beginning to think that the castle didn’t only look abandoned.

But then, on the first door she opened, she found herself looking at a perfectly wealthy kitchen, the long table at the center filled with food. She walked closer, realizing with more than a bit of wonder that the food was fresh and warm.

Her stomach grumbled. After what she’d been through, she wasn’t surprised to be hungry, but her conscience told her that she couldn’t steal. This food didn’t belong to her and she hadn’t been offered it. Yet, they had so much. It wouldn’t hurt to eat just a little.

Knowing that she could get in trouble and wary of the whole situation, Hilda did nothing more than grab a loaf of bread, and then she carefully tip toed out of the kitchen. She gave up on her search for people, after that. It was highly unlikely that in an inhabited place, there would be no one in the kitchen with such a spread laid out. How come all that food was there, though, she couldn’t explain.

She returned to the entrance hall, wanting to be close to the door if things went awry, and set on the floor next to a pile of books, the candelabra close to her. She took a bite out of the bread, humming at its warm flavour. This was even better than the bread David’s parents made.

Not knowing what else she was supposed to do, she picked a book from the closet pile, removing a fine layer of dust from its cover before opening it. At the first glance at its contents, she found herself fascinated, because she understood nothing. She could tell it was some sort of science, as it spoke of formulas and equations, and of concepts too complex for her mind to understand. But though she was curious about it all, the fact that it didn’t make sense kept her from enjoying it, and she soon picked up another, still eating her bread as she put the new tome on her lap.

This one was discarded even more quickly; not even the words made sense, for they were not only in another language, but also in another alphabet. She had more luck with the third book; it was on geography, something her mother had tried her best to teach her. But this was much better quality than any of the books her mother had been able to afford, probably better than anything their village’s bookseller had. It was filled to the brim with information, and she could only read for a few minutes before her head was spinning with the amount of facts.

As she decided to skim through it, a piece of paper fell down from between the pages. It looked older than the rest of the book, more wrinkled and yellow, and it made Hilda’s eyes shine. It was, without a doubt, a world map.

She gently ran her fingertips through it, careful not to damage it in any way, but the paper proved to be sturdier than it seemed. She recognized France from the smaller maps she’d been able to see, but the other, furthest countries she couldn’t even begin to recognize.

The world was so much bigger than she’d thought.

She was fascinated by it. She’d heard stories of pirates from the East and of the vibrant jungles south, but she’d no idea how far it was. It was only after a few moments of startled awe that she was able to realize that if the equator was that far away, there was no way she’d crossed it. And yet, snow poured outside.

Beginning to feel cold with only the tree candles to warm her and uncomfortable with the mysterious atmosphere, she decided to walk down to the stables and sleep with Twig. At least this way, she could cuddle with him and share his warmth, and it lowered the likelihood of an awkward meeting with someone in the morning.

Still, as she got up and put the candelabra back in its place, by the old looking clock, it felt bad, nearly wrong, to leave that map behind. To her it was such a treasure, something with infinite value. And to whoever this castle belonged to, it was nothing. Just another piece of paper that was forgotten among the endless piles of books that filled the building. Some of those books had been covered in dust, for crying out loud. As far as she knew, their owner might even be dead already.

Mind made up, she carefully folded the map and put it in the satchel which she always wore tied to her hips. Taking one last glance at the infinity of knowledge all around her, she walked out of the castle and down to the stables.

And this time, when she heard whispers coming from the candles and the clock, she ignored it.

_#_#_#_

When Hilda woke up, her body was stiff from sleeping with her head on a horse’s belly, and sore from the hard ground which was barely made any softer by the straw. But she’d made it through the night, and for that she could only be thankful.

As soon as her eyes fluttered open, she hurriedly began getting ready to go. Her mother had to be dying from worry, and she had no reason to stick around, anyway. As she got Twig ready for their departure, tying the saddle around his middle, she briefly considered walking inside to grab another bite of something, but discarded that idea. She’d had enough of testing her luck.

The air outside the stable was chilly, but it was not the same cutting cold from the night before. There were no signs of activity in the garden, and the gates were, somehow, open once more. Though the girl would very much like to discover more about that, as well as about every bizarre thing she’d seen on the castle, she knew better than to go exploring right away. She was tired, she was hungry, and there were still wolves outside. Her priority was trying to find her way home right away.

She climbed on her horse’s back and led him through the garden, trotting until the gates. Her mind had already left the castle behind, worrying only about making it through the woods when she heard an inhuman screech that made the hairs of her neck stand up in fright.

Gasping, Hilda looked behind her shoulder to see a giant, bird-like creature flying her way. She screamed as Twig picked speed, the horse sensing the danger they were in. But before he could even get his tail through the gate, the dark creature swooped in and grasped Hilda’s shoulders with its claws.

Swinging her legs and arms around in an attempt to free herself, Hilda horrifiedly realized that she was being lifted into the air as she saw Twig gallop away into the forest.

“Let me go!” Hilda shouted, but the claws never gave up their grip on the girl’s shoulders.

“NO!” The creature shouted back, startling Hilda even more, not only with the fact that it could speak, but also with the anger in its voice.

“You have stolen that which is mine!” It said, its big, black-feathered wings sending gusts of wind to her face. “And so you are mine now.”

Hilda’s blood froze in her veins, as she remembered. The map. This was all happening because of the map.

“I can give it back to you!” She said, noticing that the creature was taking her to one of the towers. “Just let me go!”

“Oh, you will give it back to me.” The creature growled. They got closer and closer to the tower, until they were close enough that the beast could throw Hilda through a window. She was able to fall on her feet inside, briefly trying to run before her captor landed near her and grabbed her arm. Its hand was covered in feathers with long, sharp nails, and when Hilda turned to look at its face, angry purple eyes were staring at her.

“But your life is now mine.” It snatched her satchel from her hips, opening it to look at its contents. Hilda tried to slowly back away while the beast was distracted by its contents, but the search was short. The beast put her hand inside the satchel, and then took it away as if it had been burned.

“Little thief.” It said. “You will regret this. Forever.”

_#_#_#_

Johanna had not been able to sleep. When Hilda hadn’t come back the evening before, she’d warned the sheriff, but he had barely given her any mind. He’d told her she shouldn’t be surprised, that everyone had warned her something would happen if she continued giving her daughter that much freedom, and that they could try to do something if she still didn’t show up in three days.

Johanna had shouted and raged, an attitude so atypical of her that even the sheriff had been scared. She demanded they search for her daughter right away, but all that had done was getting her dragged to her house.

She spent the night flirting with the idea of getting into the forest to look for Hilda herself. One time, she’d caught herself putting on her cloak to go. But she always got reminded that if she went into the woods at night, with no idea of where Hilda could be and no weapons, it would be more likely that she didn’t come back.

Now, at the morning, she was getting ready to ask for help again, and to go into the forest if no one volunteered to help her, when she heard a nervous neigh coming from the street.

A smiled blossomed into her face as she recognized that it was Twig running to her, but it quickly fell when she saw that no one was riding him.

“Twig!” She exclaimed as she ran to him, taking hold of his reins and petting him with her hand to calm him down. “Where is Hilda?”

The horse looked into her eyes, and she could see the fear in them. Her heart stopped, her brain going through all the possible scenarios of terrible things that might have happened to her daughter. She stepped to Twig’s side, putting both hands on the saddle and her left foot on the stirrup to lift herself up onto his back.

“Take me to her.” She ordered, and held on tight as he broke into a run.

_#_#_#_

When Twig halted in front of an eerie, crumbling castle, she hadn’t thought that he had brought her to the wrong place. He was much smarter than one would expect from a horse, and incredibly loyal, too. But oh, she had so hoped he had made a mistake. It wouldn’t be surprising if Hilda had found the castle by chance and stopped to explore, but if that was the case, then she would have come back. Due to the circumstances, Johanna was positive that something more sinister had happened.

She climbed down from her horse in front of a large staircase, and climbed it to move inside through the front door. The place didn’t look inhabited, so maybe a piece of stone had fallen on top of her and rendered her unable to move. Though that didn’t seem like such a reasonable explanation once she found herself inside the front hall. While it looked deserted, it didn’t look like it was ready to fall down on her head like the outside had looked.

“Hilda?” Johanna asked, not daring to raise her voice. If the place was inhabited, she wasn’t sure she would be able to deal with the wrath of a nobleman. “Good morning, is anyone home? I don’t mean to disturb, I’m looking for my daughter.”

Out of the corner of her left eye, she could see something moving, but when she turned her gaze to that direction she saw only a candelabra and a clock on a little table. Telling herself it was probably nerves, she reached for the candelabra, curling her fingers around the cold, red metal.

“Hilda?” She called again, louder this time, and when no one answered, she decided to climb the stairs that led upwards. The castle had clearly been great one day, but everything about it said that its glory days were long gone. The very air seemed sad.

She crossed a long corridor packed with rusty armors before finding another stair. This one was not as grand as the others; made of rough stone and spiraling up into one of the towers, everything indicated that it wasn’t supposed to be used by guests.

She climbed just the first two steps and called for her daughter again. This time, her heart picked up pace as she recognized Hilda’s voice calling for her.

“I’m coming, Hilda!” She shouted, running up the stairs.

“No! Don’t come here!” Hilda’s voice, faint with the distance answered. “It’ll catch you!”

The warning barely registered in Johanna’s mind. With her blood pumping on her ears, her legs beginning to sting from climbing so fast and the focus she needed to not allow the candles she was holding to burn her, there was barely any space on her mind for anything except for the urge to help her daughter.

She reached the top of the tower in little time, putting the candelabra on the floor and running for Hilda, who was behind a barred door, kneeling on the floor. Johanna kneeled in front of her, putting her hands on top of her daughter’s, which were gripping the bars.

“Mum, you have to go away now!” She insisted, and Johanna was terrified to see fear on her brave girl’s face.

“What is going on?!” Sticking her hand inside the cell, Johanna tried to see if Hilda had any wounds, and though she found none, her daughter had a fever. Not surprising, considering the freezing air that ran through the tower and that, as she noticed with a start, Hilda’s dress was ripped.

“There’s no time to explain, there’s a huge beast-” before the girl could finish the sentence, the few rays of sun that entered through the window were blocked by a gigantic creature.

Johanna heard Hilda whisper a soft “oh no” before the creature stepped towards them.

“Who are you?” It asked her, and Johanna realized that the voice speaking to her belonged to a woman. There was something wrong with it, though. It was too penetrating. Taking a deep breath, Johanna summoned every drop of courage she had.

“I’m her mother. What I want to know is who are you”

“That does not matter.” The creature answered. “You must go now. She belongs to me.”

Getting up on her feet, Johanna balled her fists. “She does not. Release her this instant.”

It was hard to see the beast’s face, let alone read it, but her momentary silence told Johanna that she hadn’t expected to be met with resistance.

“She stole something from me.” She explained. “And now she will pay with her life.”

“I only stole a map!” Hilda pleaded. “And only because I thought it belonged to no one!”

“Well it did!” The beast raged, and as it reached forward, Johanna could see its claws where feet should be, and its long, sharp nails. “And now the price must be payed.”

“I’ll pay it!” Johanna said, and there was only the sound of the wind raging outside the tower as both Hilda and the beast looked at her in confusion. Whatever this being was, Johanna knew she couldn’t fight it. And if it truly thought that a petty theft justified this, than it certainly couldn’t be argued with.

“What?”

“Mum, no!”

“I will take her place.” She confirmed as she took a step towards the beast. “Let her go and I’ll stay here. For as long as you want me to.”

The beast considered the offer. “You’d take forever? In her place?”

Johanna nodded, but Hilda got up and tried to grab her wrist.

“You can’t! It was my mistake, I’ll pay for it!”

Holding her daughter’s shoulders, Johanna leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Sweetheart, I’m older. You still have so much to do, so much to live.”

Hilda would be fine, she told herself. She was a smart, stubborn girl. Surely the mayor and the bakers would welcome her in their homes until she could work and make her own money, close as she was to their children. Yes, Hilda would be fine.

“I must warn you.” The beast said. “If you try to run away, the consequences will be dire.”

The creature, Johanna noticed, seemed to have purposefully remained where it’s face wasn’t lit. All she could make out of her body were her claws, hands, and her large wings. She squinted, trying to get a better look of her new captor.

“Come into the light.” She said, and for some reason, the creature obeyed.

It was hard not to gasp when she was able to see the whole of the woman. She wasn’t much taller than Johanna, though her wings made her seem enormous. Her whole body was covered in dark feathers, and she wore a very simple black dress that had seen better days. On her head, it was difficult to tell what were feathers and what was hair, the only clear thing is that she hadn’t bothered to comb it in a while. Her face was the most alarming part, though. Because for all that she seemed like a beast, her face was human.

Johanna stared into purple eyes with sharp pupils, and they stared right back at her.

“I will not run away.” She answered, her gaze not wavering. “I will honour this agreement as long as you allow my daughter to go without harming her”

The beast inhaled. “Very well.”

There was a rusty sound as the door to the cell was flung open, making Johanna realize that the creature in front of her had magic. A witch.

Hilda ran forward to hug her mother, wrapping her hands around her middle and sobbing into her belly. Johanna put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder and another one on her head, caressing her in soothing circles.

“I’m so sorry, mum.” She cried. “Please don’t do this.”

“It’s already done, my darling girl.” She answered calmly. “Now go. Live your life.”

“I won’t let you do this!” Hilda screamed, but she was rendered speechless as the witch spoke up.

“No, your mother is right little girl.” She said, her voice almost a sing-song. “It is done.”

The small chair that Johanna hadn’t even noticed was in the cell awakened, it’s wooden legs moving unnaturally and making it walk forward. Before she could move out of the way, it hit the back of Hilda’s knees, forcing her to sit on it, and then immediately began running down the stairs with the girl.

“Mum!” She screamed, her hand reaching for her mother, but it was useless. The chair had already disappeared down the spiraling stairs before Johanna could do anything.

“I love you, Hilda! Never forget that!”

Her daughter’s answer was hard to hear. She was already far down. Johanna stared at the spot where she had been just a second ago, feeling lost.

“Get into the cell.” The witch said, and as soon as Johanna did as she was told, the door swung closed, the lock making a snapping sound as it trapped her inside. The creature opened her wings and disappeared through the window.

[justanotherloveaffair]

Things I Learned in Thailand Pt 2 - “Have a Seat” (Chadwick x Reader)

Link to pt 1 > click here

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: slow burn, oral sex, nsfw language

Author’s note: sorry this took so long! comment if you want to be tagged. there will definitely be more of this.

For a city-raised urbanite whose idea of being in nature was sitting in the street section of a café, Thailand lifted you firmly from everything you knew and embraced you into its green, lush arms.

Outside your cabin, in the loose network of film crew buildings you now called home, the surrounding jungle was alive and noisy with life, day and night. At first, the strange cry of a nearby gibbon made you stop and look around in shock. After a few days, it just became part of the exotic tapestry of sound that enveloped you at all times.

It was monsoon season, which meant it could be very, very dry and hot one moment, and the next, you could be suddenly rocked by an unforgiving downpour of rain. There was no in-between and never any warning. So you weren’t surprised to be awoken at 4:00am, 15 minutes before your alarm, and told that until the storm passed, your presence on set was indefinitely postponed.

You smiled at the gift of more hours of sleep, and returned to your blankets, ready to drift off when your phone vibrated. 

A single buzz you would have ignored. But there were 5 in quick succession, each one more rapid than the last.

Curious, you picked up your phone, squinting at the bright screen.

A strangled sound came out of you as you tossed the phone to the other side of your bedroom. It landed on a pile of clothes, toppling it down to the floor, with Chadwick’s still-open text illuminating a patch of carpet in blue.

You felt a sudden drop in your stomach at the images your mind started broadcasting. High definition scenes of you in Chadwick’s arms, clutching his strong body as his hips drove into yours and your tongues danced in a passionate kiss.

You pulled the covers over your head and screamed.

You were going to do it.

Many long, dull hours of tension and nerves lay ahead of you. After a while, there was no point in trying. You couldn’t sleep. You wandered and paced, caught up on social media, anything to distract from the fear, the excitement, the stomach-twisting anticipation.

At least you had lots of time to decide what to wear. In a bold choice for you, a makeup addict, you skipped your makeup routine. You had a sense that this afternoon was going to be one of the most important erotic encounters of your adult life. To truly enjoy it, you needed to be ready to lay it all out there, just as you were. No hiding or pretence.

When the time came, you were surprised that you still hadn’t backed down. But fate had set you on a course, and you were going to see it through. Now, all you had to do was put one foot in front of the other.

As you stepped outside, the loud noise of the jungle greeted you, only heightening your over-stimulation. Your hands shook as you hurried to lock the door, before popping open your umbrella and parting the curtains of water around you. You lowered your eyes and began to walk, focused only on the path connecting you to Chadwick. 

The rain beating on your umbrella became a sort of balm for your tension, until you got to his door.

Your hand felt like lead when you reached up to knock.

You gave a few short taps, that were surely instantly deafened by the torrential rain, so you knocked again, more assuredly. This was it, this was the worst part. You bit your lip as your guts churned.

Seconds felt like minutes before finally, the doorknob turned and the door shifted backwards, as Chadwick and his apartment slid into view. He was dressed casually, with an easygoing smile to match. There was an unmistakeable glitter of pleasure in his eye that revealed his surprise that you actually came.

“Here, lemme get that,” he swooped towards you to scoop up your dripping umbrella, and while he put it into the umbrella stand, you took advantage of the few seconds to glance around. You started with the back-side of Chadwick, and the nicely fitting sweatpants hanging from his ass, and for the hundredth time since that morning, warmth surged in your lower extremities.

Looking around, you noticed how much tidier it was – he had cleaned in anticipation of your arrival. A stack of books you recalled avoiding yesterday was tucked back into the book shelf, where you noticed a small candle was lit. You realized this was the source of the faint scent of vanilla and coconut. 

He had really gone the extra mile to make you feel comfortable. Either that, or he’d been as nervous as you were.

“Drink?” Chadwick called from the kitchen. You answered “No thanks!” as casually as you could, but it felt forced. Frankly, you were lost trying to navigate what the protocol was here, and Chadwick wasn’t making it any easier with his disarming friendliness.

You heard clinking sounds as he poured ice into a few glasses that he carried out of the kitchen a moment later, with an unmistakeable smile that caught you in its spotlight.

Twisting your lips in return, you took the glass from his hand. “I guess you missed where I said no thanks.”

Chadwick sideyed you. “Oh… I heard you,” he baited playfully, and you began to laugh as you lifted the glass to your lips with a shrug.

Fuck it. You tipped back the whole thing.

Chadwick’s eyebrows were raised as you lowered the glass, where his was still hovering at his lips.

He responded to the unspoken challenge by doing the same, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed it all. There was something gripping about how his tongue slid over his lips to savour every drop of whiskey.  It made you warm to imagine him tasting you with the same relish.

“Okay, that’s done,” he concluded, collecting and setting aside your glasses. You instinctively went stiff as a board.

Chadwick gestured palm-up to the couch. “Have a seat.”

His demeanor was suddenly business-like, as if you were being seated for an interview. You were struck with dread as you sat down at the end of the couch. Even deciding what end to sit on filled you with anxiety. Do I go in the middle? Is he going to sit across from me? Or – next to me? On the left or right?

Your formal-looking smile was pained as you stared at him, waiting for him to make the next move.

You had no idea what was going to happen next. As Chadwick folded himself into a sitting position on the rug, your body was vibrating, skin clammy with sweat. If he was trying to relax you, it wasn’t working.

When he took a breath and opened his mouth to speak, every muscle in your body clenched.

He suddenly breathed out, making a phewwww sound. “Damn, there’s some crazy tension in this room.” His eyes were soft as he looked to you for agreement, lifting his brows.

All of that building tension hit a crescendo and you exploded with, “God damn, will you just fuck me already?”

After his initial surprise, he burst into loud laughter that you joined in on.

“Alright then.” You lifted your eyes up to his, and a live wire of electricity passed between you. “There’s one thing we should talk about first.”

You nodded.

“You have to promise, promise,” he repeated with intense eye contact, “that you’ll talk to me. I need to know what you like and don’t like, if you want more, or different, or if you wanna stop. Promise?”

Overwhelmed, you breathed out slowly. “Yeah. I promise.”

Both your gazes snapped towards the window as they were suddenly and violently rattled by huge gusts of wind. Rain pummelled the windows, creating rivulets that left shifting kaleidoscopic patterns in the shadowy living room.

The shadows shifted with Chadwick as he stood, radiating an erotic energy in the way he moved with calm purpose as he walked to the edge of the couch and held out his hand.

Your stomach dropped with the feeling of standing next to a steep height.

You got to your feet after awkwardly bumping into the coffee table, and crossed the few steps to him. Your heart thundered in your ears as you touched his outstretched fingers, and gut-wrenching nerves stifled any thought as you followed Chadwick to his bedroom, where he led you with calm, relaxed control.

You stalled at the foot of the bed, hiding a look of panic as you watched him climb up. This is really happening.

Chadwick scooted until he was sitting with his back against the headboard, one leg bent and the other straight towards you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him straight-on, so your gaze wandered the room.

“Uh…” you started and trailed off, chewing the inside of your lip as it fell quiet.

Your eyes roamed the room for inspiration until you smoothed your hand over the rumpled grey sheets. “This,” you announced, “this…. is a really nice bed.”

The surreal mismatch between words and context made yours and Chadwick’s lips turn up in a matching smile.

“It really is.” He agreed, his eyes shining as they suppressed tears of laughter.

The corners of your mouth wavered as you maintained eye contact. “Great pillows.”

The giggles got the best of Chadwick first, but you immediately followed, and collapsed sideways on the bed as you and Chadwick howled with laughter, side by side.

When the giggles subsided, you felt much calmer and more confident, vowing you were just going to enjoy yourself. 

After the next beat of silence, you asked, “So are we doing this or what?”

“Alright, alright,” Chadwick waved his hands, and you reached over to playfully nudge his arm.

“Ok, let’s start with this.” He looked at you with a pointed expression. “Tell me about the things you want to do that you’ve never done before.”

The gaze you shared simmered with the sudden shift of mood.

“Just start with one,” he prompted, then lowered the pitch of his voice so the sound rumbled in your deepest parts. “Be a good girl for me.”

Your insides dropped at those two little words and all their filthy connotations.

Chadwick began inching towards you and didn’t stop until he was on top of you, his palms planted at your sides. He was so close you could feel the warmth of his breath, the heat of his thighs and most distractingly, the weight of his crotch pressed into yours.

He lowered his lips to your ear, “I think I just found your weak spot, little girl.” You whimpered as he grinded his hips into you, and before you could get used to the feeling of Chadwick’s hardening cock, he backed off, his expression becoming stern. “But you get nothing until you talk. Come on, you promised.”

His pleading eyes made you sigh with frustration.  

“Alright.. fine. I guess …. I don’t know what I want. Nobody’s ever asked.”

“Okay... that’s a start.” Chadwick nodded. “Go on.”

You searched his eyes, then searched the ceiling behind them, then the paintings on the walls while your brain whirred through a rolodex of fantasies until you finally settled on one you were willing to speak aloud.

“I want to ride your face,” you blurted.

Chadwick began to smile. “Yeah. And?”

“And…. I really want to fuck you.”

His smile was unwavering as he answered without skipping a beat, “Lots of ways we can do that.” He paused, letting the words permeate the sexually charged air. “Lots of ways.” 

Fireworks flew as your eyes roamed the dark depths of his. 

He continued, “And we will… but not today.”

The response made your eyes narrow in question, and he answered, “One thing at a time.”

You were caught by surprise when Chadwick deftly rolled with you until you were on top of him, with your knees astride his hips and the outline of his dick once again pressed into your throbbing heat.

There was a sly little grin on Chadwick’s face as his long fingers pulled at the button on your high-waisted jeans. Your brain was left scrambling to catch up with your eyes and it took you a few seconds of watching before you started to help.

His instruction was quiet, but firm. “Take these off, then sit right back where you are. And these too,” he rubbed the elastic of your panties, your sexiest pair you’d packed for your trip.

That Chadwick was fully clothed while you climbed back onto him, now naked from the waist down, struck you as erotic and slightly surreal.

You shivered at the tickle of his fingers on your bare thighs as he slowly dragged his fingertips from hip to knees, before hooking his fingers behind them to pull you firmly upwards.

“Fuck!” Your hands flew out to steady yourself, and soon two strong, masculine hands were supporting you, his warm palms firmly cupping your backside and bringing your pussy to hover inches from his face.

He grazed his stubbled chin back and forth across your upper thigh, and had to grip you twice as hard as you moaned and sagged against him.  

A sharp lovebite on your sensitive skin made you look down in surprise. You felt the warmth of his breath on your skin as he ordered, “Shirt off.”

You roughly hitched your t-shirt off, bringing your chest and belly into the spotlight of his gaze. Something between a growl and a moan rumbled in his chest as you were hastily yanked towards his mouth.

His first taste was more delicate than you expected. He held you completely still, flicking the flat of his tongue against you, then letting the air cool on your skin before doing it again, watching your face as his tongue searched and tasted slowly.

A rush of joyous pleasure filled you at the wet, warm, soft sensation. You moved your hips and his tongue moved with you, sucking, licking at a slow, relaxed pace.

The women in your life had never told you about this. Why had nobody told you about this?

He broke away from you, asking breathlessly, “Good?”

“Good, good, so good, oh my god, so good,” you squealed, looking between your legs and Chadwick gave you a proud smile, his chin glossy with your juices.

Your balance gave out at the moment he reconnected with your body, this time burrowing his stiffened tongue as deep in your pussy as he could.

Your mind went blank at the new sensation and you became ruled only by instinct. How to get closer, deeper, more. Fucking his mouth, you took all he gave, becoming addicted to the obscene thrill every time your clit bumped against his nose.

The impossible started to happen. That tightening feeling began and you made it known, sounding almost surprised when you moaned, “oh god, I think I’m gonna come….” With renewed excitement, Chadwick dragged you across his mouth, racing you there.

“Oh my godohmygodohmygod” you begged, and he didn’t let up for a second while you screamed and shuddered. His hands kept you upright as his tongue hungrily cleaned you, drinking down all of your cream, until you were exhausted and limp.

“Come here,” he guided your hips and you were grateful to lay your body down. You stretched over his, where you could finally relax your weary muscles.

You did something that felt completely natural. Instead of resting your head on his chest, you paused, hovering above him, before planting your lips directly onto his.

He was slow at first to respond as you ravenously cleaned off your own taste from his lips and chin. He chuckled a bit at your excitement, and you ended up kissing his teeth a few times as his lips stretched into a smile while yours did the same.

It was a struggle to pull away, but you eventually did, falling to his side in a daze.

Chadwick shifted his hand over the prominent bulge in his pants and squeezed.

The fact he’d barely been touched while you’d just had one of the best orgasms of your life seemed unacceptable.

You lifted your hand towards him, but it was stopped in mid-air.

“Don’t,” he warned through gritted teeth, and your hand flinched in his vice-like grip. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” Your pouty half-smile went unnoticed. Chadwick had screwed his eyes shut, breathing carefully.

He shook his head side to side and gently placed your hand back on the mattress, next to you.

“Next time.”

A thrill shot through you at the thought of a next time and all the promise those two words held.

You both agreed that it was best if you got dressed and went home. You fished around in the dark room for your clothes while Chadwick stood, shifting to conceal the raging erection he was no doubt going to service the moment you were gone.

He walked ahead, flicking on the lights to help find your jacket and still-damp umbrella. The silence between you was surprisingly comfortable.

“So… let’s meet again tomorrow?” You grinned, standing in the door frame.

With a cocky smile, he narrowed his eyes at you. “You’ll be back here again tonight and we both know it.”

He was so annoyingly confident. And he was also right.

"You wish.” You rolled your eyes jokingly as you opened your umbrella.

But you both knew you’d be back.

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[goreprofonde]

What are your thoughts on the The Tiger's Bride by Angela Carter ?

Ok girl, here we go!

The Tiger's Bride is a retelling of the beauty and the beast, but it is not simply that, it is also about reclaiming female agency, voice, gaze and sexuality.

The father loses his daughter at cards, what does it mean? It means that The Daughter is currency -especially at this period where families were trying to marry their daughters to the wealthiest men around- embodied, she is the estate of her father, she must make him proud. The Daughter carries with her a position. As Luce Irigaray states in one of her text, there is three positions for women: the Mother = use value/domestic, the Virgin = exchange value/sexual and the Prostitue who has both. Here the heroine has exchange value due to her virginity. She is two things simultaneously, she is multitask, she is service/exchange value and money itself. The Beast plays and wins the product, the heroine now belongs to him. In the transaction, the father loses his money, but where is the money? The money is the Daughter, she has market value, she can be exchanged, lost at gambling, looted... she herself is aware of it: "For now my own skin was my sole capital in the world and today I’d make my first investment".

This chapter is a deviation of the beauty and the beast and so as we know, the beauty and the beast was inspired by the tale of Cupid and Psyche. Then we have to look for parallels. I have pinned down three. First, the heroine, as Psyche is served by disembodied voices: the "robotic" maid and the valet which I will accept does have a body but represents more an idea than his body, as does Jiminy Cricket for example. Second, Apuleius says: "by the unhappiest of chances the lamp spilt a drop of boiling oil on to his shoulder" and Carter says: "The candles dropped hot, acrid gouts of wax on my bare shoulders" the drop of oil becomes wax, it is sticky, filthy, like semen, it foreshadows the heroine's sexual climax and by dropping on her shoulder, it tells you she is/will be Psyche and Eros, she is/will be the Mind and Love. Last one (I think), Eros and Psyche make love in the dark because Eros made one rule, she can't know what he looks like. In the Tiger's Bride, the heroine doesn't want to know what the Beast looks like, she says: "You may put me in a windowless room, sir, and I promise you I will pull my skirt up to my waist, ready for you. But there must be a sheet over my face, to hide it; though the sheet must be laid over me so lightly that it will not choke me. So I shall be covered completely from the waist upwards, and no lights."

Do you remember the line "The girl burst out laughing; she knew she was nobody’s meat" in The Company of Wolves? The Tiger's Bride echoes this line: "I could scarcely believe my ears. I let out a raucous guffaw; no young lady laughs like that! my old nurse used to remonstrate. But I did. And do." both heroines laugh, why? Because laughs are the voices of women, the laughs of the Lambs, the laughs of the Medusa. By laughing I claim by ability to be something else than the neurotic; screaming woman men have invented. Kin to Carter, sexuality. Sexuality is represented by the Beast's fur, it is also virility. He tries to hide his smell, as all men do, but what smell? The smell of the Beast, the same "perfume of spiced leather" the heroine was complaining about in The Bloody Chamber. At the end of the tale, the heroine is flayed by the Beast and as the Gothic heroine, she does not die but is reborn, as a Beast herself, full of fur, accepting finally her sexuality. By this transformation, the heroine reaches the third position of women theorised by Luce Irigaray: The Prostitute, use and exchange value.  

There are plenty other things to unfold about lines like: "the still mask that concealed all the features of The Beast but for the yellow eyes that strayed, now and then, from his unfurled hand towards myself." which echoes the line from The Company of Wolves "You can tell them by their eyes, eyes of a beast of prey, nocturnal, devastating eyes".

"And I could not ask her why they called the master of the place, ‘La Bestia’ – was it to do with that heraldic signature? – because her tongue was so thickened by the phlegmy, bronchitic speech of the region I scarcely managed to make out a thing she said" which echoes the Gothic pattern of the heroine who is never offered any help.

"Oh, yes, a beautiful face; but one with too much formal symmetry of feature to be entirely human: one profile of his mask is the mirror image of the other, too perfect, uncanny" watch the use of "symmetry" here and in Williams Blake's poem "The Tyger":

“Tyger Tyger, burning bright, / In the forests of the night; / What immortal hand or eye, / Could frame thy fearful symmetry?”

Symmetry is beauty and beauty has never been cute, acute beauty is terror, a beautiful face is a scary thing, for us and for the beholder.

There are also elements echoing Helen Cixous's text, "The Love of the Wolf" but be careful, Carter published her text in 1979 and Cixous published hers in 1998:    

"ah! you think you’ve come to the blessed plot where the lion lies down with the lamb" + "The tiger will never lie down with the lamb; he acknowledges no pact that is not reciprocal. The lamb must learn to run with the tigers." The heroine must become as feral as the Beast and thus they can love each other.

As I told you earlier, I’m going to link some references that could help you:

https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2012/10/17/chamber-of-secrets-the-sorcery-of-angela-carter/    ///  https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p04t2j4y  ///   https://amchoreo.files.wordpress.com/2010/12/hc3a9lc3a8ne-cixous-stigmata-escaping-texts.pdf  /// https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/355547.Flesh_and_the_Mirror

About the second question you asked in pm, I don’t really know, I think you can read it from different points of view, first one, it’s the Erl-King talking and so there is a notion of incest, perversion of the mother role? The mother doesn’t feed you, she kills you. I think that is the point of view that many take into account but when I read it, I felt like it was the voice of the heroine, I mean it is possible, the violin sings her song, her mother murdered her, how? by pushing her into the arms of the Erl? by handing down her injuries to her daughter? By not warning her about how the monster can be so beguiling? I don’t know.

[all-good-things-dot-dot-dot]

All Good Things… Pants On Fire.

1st June 2020

Hello Chaps and Chapettes.

I don’t know quite how to approach this second entry in any other way than to tell you that I’m a big ol’ liar. 

Always have been it seems, from the days I told small fibs (that’s lies to my US pals) about not hitting my brother as a kid to when I said I definitely completed that report for work, while just starting it. It seems that one filthy untruth leads to another and I don’t quite know how to stop it or even if I should at all. 

Maybe I should explain why that’s the first thought on today’s thirty-minute topic. Yesterday I said that I wanted ‘All Good Things…’ to be exactly that, nothing but the good things in life. I want this because I feel there’s too much negativity easily spread in the world, made easier by humanity being able to type out their misgivings on a device they always have with them and send it where the world can view it and respond. I don’t want to be another mouthpiece for that, it feels that the only way to beat that is to spread and encourage goodness. 

The positive effects of that are profound, which you will already know if you’ve seen the archived works of Bob Ross, Fred Rogers, or Steve Irwin. There are humans out there, from times gone by and working hard today, who want or wanted nothing more than people to be safe, happy and free. They have not pushed that message but spread it gently, and it continues to spread as gently as a happy little cloud. 

The reason why I feel I lied in my blog yesterday, however, is because as much as I want to be, I do not believe I can always embody the message, ‘All Good Things..’ because that feels like a goal only the strongest, most caring people can reach. I feel I’d have to do something impossible, which would be to see some light in every dark thing that happens in the world and there are so many dark things where the light is unclear. 

Ordinarily, at this point, I’d turn to my favourite quote from a certain elder wizard, who said “Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” (Rowling, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, 1999, spoken by Dumbledore) The trouble is, where do you start? By finding the metaphorical light switch or magical lighter one supposes, or remembering how to pronounce ‘lumos!’ but where is that in the real world? That’s the question that always seems to trip people up. 

My answer is simple - focus on what makes you happy, which also does not harm or upset people, and build from that. I do dislike that in today’s world I feel I have to put in that disclaimer, to avoid the one person who says ‘well, I love butchering people and wearing their faces as masks,’ to which I have to explain that isn’t what I meant as I slowly back towards the nearest exit. This is what I call the ‘bad wish complex’ - where you ask for something only for the most rotten version of that thing to come true, like hoping for all the candy in the world and get it, only for all of your teeth to fall out two weeks later.

This is why focusing on good things only is hard. It does not help that, when you ask a conglomeration to offer good things on a social media platform, there’s nothing at all offered and maybe a like or two if you’re lucky. Yet, say the name of the US President once, and every Tom, Dick and Hillary will pop up to tell you their thoughts on the situation. The reality, it seems, is that the world needs good things, but wants worse things, because it runs out of things to talk about afterwards. That is how it seems from this viewpoint. 

Then, how do you proceed when facing an audience of empty chairs, while you can hear the auditorium across the road making loud noises about grief and suffering to a lamenting crowd? How do you deal with the knowledge that they might smile once or twice if they avoided that and focused on the images and stories of people doing good things for the world, for the animal kingdom, for each other? They answer, I feel, is that you just keep a focus on it. 

From the start, you cannot do it for others, you have to do it for yourself. As soon as you expect that people will like or be interested in anything you do, you’re destined to be upset. The human race as a whole has a very limited attention span and as soon as you… Hey, have you heard the new Lady Gaga album? What? Oh, sorry… got distracted. 

The point is, the best way to share goodness is to do what makes you feel good first and foremost. With the above ‘NO AXE-MURDERING’ caveat in place. As soon as you show that you are enjoying what you are doing, then people will start to gain a bit more interest in it. From that small gathering, you can then start to share ideas that inspire hope and encourage them to share those ideas too. They don’t have to be preachy - think about it. Mr Ross shared his message with happy little trees. Mr Rogers shared his with his neighbors, no matter what colour or ability. Mr Irwin shared his fascination of the creatures he met. 

The world has so many ways of offering a light to the darkness, and since my time is up for today, I’ll have to leave you with the words I hope will shine through the dark times ahead too. 

All good things, 

Love, Scaramouche. 

x

[x-ratedkpop]

Petty Jealousy [Kim Minseok]

Idol!AU || Dom!Minseok || Contains: Jealous behaviour, elevator sex Inspired by The Eve - EXO

You watched as they practiced, the way their bodies rolled during the chorus, how intensely Minseok feels the beat as he flows through the moves.

You are mesmerised, unable to remove your eyes from him even when the song finishes and he walks towards you with a smirk on his face. “I know that look,” he kisses your cheek, breaking the spell and reaches for his water bottle. “Did you enjoy the show?”

You want to capture his lips, grab his wrists and hold them above his head while you fight for dominance but you know he won’t allow it, wouldn’t allow you to control such a scenario when he’s the one who always remains in control.

“I think we need to go home,” you whisper in his ear, ignoring the damp sweat in his permed hair as you subtly press yourself closer to him. “I think watching how into it Jongin was really turned me on.”

Minseok growls lowly at his younger member’s name, at how you purred it. “Jongin?” He queries, looking down at you and your smug smile. “You were watching him and not me?”

“It’s hard not to,” you shrug, turning your back on him and walk away, “he’s very pleasing on the eyes for a young man.” Your wrist is captured in a firm grip and you smile to yourself when you see the jealousy in Minseok’s eyes. He drags you from the room; worried expressions from the other members are ignored as he pushes you into the elevator and presses a random floor.

He lifts your wrists above your head, holding them tightly in one hand while the other presses the emergency stop button; the lights go out, leaving you in the dark with a sweaty and pissed off Minseok.

He presses you against the wall, capturing your body between his and the wall while still holding your wrists in his hand. The kiss is full of anger, tongue fighting with yours for dominance as he grinds his hips against yours and capturing the desperate moans you make. Minseok had imagined having you like this, having you whimpering at his touch as he stops you from being able to touch him; he got the idea from the choreography.

Hands above the head and only able to move your hips; that’s the image he wants as he grinds harder against you and feels you slowly push forward against him, trying to create some kind of friction. He controls the pace at which you move, frustrating you to no end and every time you try to break free – Minseok tightens his hold and uses his free hand to keep your hip in place.

“If you keep misbehaving, I’ll make sure you can’t move at all.” He growls against your lips before giving himself some space to move. “I was thinking of you all day, thinking that it was me that your eyes were fucking while we were practicing.” He uses one hand to pull his pants and briefs down enough to release his throbbing member. “And yet,” he runs a hand up your thigh and under your dress, sliding two fingers against your damp panties – evidence of your arousal and lewd thoughts while he practiced. “You were too focused on little Nini.” Minseok applies light pressure as he strokes you through your panties, enjoying the wanton moans that escape your lips.

You want to deny this, admit that you were only trying to irritate him which worked in a sense but now with how slowly he’s teasing you – you know it won’t do anything to avert what’s about to happen.

“Do you like the younger boys, baby?” Minseok slides his fingers over your clit and sends a shock up your spine. “Does sweet,” he presses his thumb against your clit and slowly creates friction, “precious,” he wiggles his fingers inside your saturated lace panties, “Nini make you feel this good?” He breathes against your neck as he inserts his finger inside you.

“N-no!” You cry out, completely resigning to your fate. Your arms slack and you focus all your attention on riding his fingers rather than fighting for control.

“Then who makes you feel this good?” He nips your earlobe and you jump as the shocks travel to your core. “Hmm?”

You shake, his fingers picking up the pace until he’s finger fucking you to the point you can’t quite formulate a coherent sentence. “Y-y-you!” You clench around his fingers, his pace not slowing as his lips crash against yours to catch every cry that claws it way out of your throat.

He releases your wrists and you collapse against him but Minseok isn’t finished; not even close. You may have been saying such things to rile him up but now, feeling you, tasting your sweetness on his fingers and thinking about all the ways he could have punished you for your behaviour – he wants to have his fill.

He wants you unable to walk out of this building; showing everyone who’ll see your fucked-out form who’s girlfriend you are.

Petty jealousy, Minseok knows this, normally able to keep his cool but he cannot when you tease him so freely with his own members. This isn’t the first time you’ve used either Jongin or Sehun to cause his blood to boil and though he’ll admit that it adds some fire to the bedroom; sometimes it makes him wonder whether you are teasing or not.

“Turn around,” he commands and helps you into the position he wants you to be in. Your legs are wobbly but you stand firm, knowing that this is what you wanted all along – ever since you entered the practice room two hours ago. He flips your dress to reveal your round behind and caresses on cheek before laying a hard slap against the soft skin, causing you to yelp while the mark turns red. Tilting his head to the side, he wonders if the panties are even worth saving. “You’re saturated,” he grabs the thin fabric and you hear the ripping noise as the fabric is destroyed and you’re exposed in a still elevator.

He lines himself up with your dripping hole, running hot hands over your back before bottoming out. He moans at the feel, at how your tight hole grips around him and welcomes his fullness.

It’s a slow pace at first, almost sensual and to a beat only Minseok can hear but shortly, the thrusts get harder, his hips snapping faster until the elevator is filled with the filthy sound of your moans mixed with the slapping of skin as Minseok fucks you from behind.

You grip the railing, finding it harder to keep upright the longer Minseok goes; your legs were weak from your orgasm, the one currently building in your core is the only reason you remain strong but you know you won’t last longer – Minseok needs to hurry if either of you are going to ride this out.

“Please, Minnie,” you gasp, the air struggling to remain in your lungs long enough to speak as you are too busy moaning. “I’m not going to last much longer.” He growls, gripping your hips tight as the thrusts become so deep, they hit your spot with every thrust.

“Fuck,” he growls, feeling his orgasm approaching quickly as he listens to you begging him, he can feel how close you are; hear it in your voice as you begin to whine. You cry when you finally topple over the edge, legs shaking from exhaustion as Minseok follows shortly after you; he pulls you closer to him to support your weight as you come down from your orgasm. “Learn your lesson?”

“For tonight,” you weakly manage to say as Minseok lets you stand on your own before heading to the buttons and starting the elevator. “I’m surprised no-one has come and checked on us.” The chuckle Minseok responds with causes you to raise an eyebrow but he refuses to answer you; instead he points at the fabric on the floor.

“Don’t want anyone to see those,” you blush, quickly picking them up and shoving them in Minseok’s outstretched hands.

When the doors open and you are back on the practice room floor, everyone eyes you both suspiciously. No-one says a word as they file back into the practice room with you shuffling behind them; with three hours to go, you know this won’t be an easy thing to sit through.

“Eyes on me, okay?” Minseok startles you from behind, subtly brushing his hand over your ass. “If you even dear to have those pretty little eyes wander to someone else,” he nips your shoulder and causes you to blush. “I’ll make sure that when we get home, you won’t be coming so fast.”

You remain quiet, vigilant to keep your eyes on Minseok the entire time and every time the chorus plays, his hands above his head with the wrists together – it reminds you of what happened in the elevator.

And it turns you on.

~Admin Jong Dong

[thetasteoffire]

I think the hill I’m finally ready to die on is that the ‘woke’ brand of progressivism really contains the seeds of its own destruction in the unevenness of its rhetorical standards - that is, that the intellectual dishonesty of the kind of movement where the same person will tweet fervently about how disgusting it is that women are just regarded as sexual objects in a broader culture and then respond to all pictures of pretty/buff/both women with an allcaps “I’M SO GAY” is just...damning. Beyond off-putting; it’s self-destructive, in the sense that ‘an intellectual/cultural movement built on uncertain and inarticulable standards of conduct - any breach of which means a social media public stoning - is probably doomed’ seems self-evident to anyone willing to conceptualize it in those terms.

I read the new piece by the guy who was purported as wanting to hang women who’ve had abortions and while it’s obviously not exactly life-changing (crypieces by intellectuals who think they’re too smart to cry rarely are), there’s a few real out-of-body experiences: the “who gets sponsorships from Google and Pepsi” one is a solid soundbite, the overall breast-beating “I have been wronged” narrative is given new spin (if not new life), but the one that really hit me upside the head is that this very motherfucker had the Leftie Neighborhood Watch called to break down his door over the infamous quote which he insists was decontextualized - and then just paragraphs later pulled The Same Bullshit(TM), being sarcastic about something someone said that they claimed was taken out of context. The mob did it to him, and now he’s doing it to the mob.

Surely, the issue is becoming apparent, yes?

And I know, I know, half of the stuff that’s one here that rails against men/cis people/straight people/etc probably isn’t meant seriously or something and my point isn’t that those are the real oppressed people anyway, just that the praxis around being progressive in public and especially on social media fucking sucks. Why bother being a male ally when you see tungle.hell’s filthy internet hallways littered with posts captioned “men are weak af tbh.” Obviously with such cutting insights the patriarchy is only days from falling anyway! Sarcasm aside, the underlying question I always have when seeing that stuff is why? - since it really is a fairly intense deterrent, and the possibilities are...not inspiring: monastic-inspired denial of entry to ensure the willingness of the participant, complicated hazing ritual, earnest desire to actually not have male allies while claiming that you do to appear inclusive, earnest desire to not have male allies in your movement and continue feeling/appearing victimized because men refuse to help, just straight-up venting...probably all those and more have been the rationale since, despite the appearance of a hivemind, there really are individuals at work at the end of the day. But the key is: none of those reasons are good, none of them strengthen anything but esprit de corp for already enfranchised members, which, anyone can tell you, is really fucking bad for a movement interested in expanding its cultural cachet and really good for hardlining opposition. 

Straight women with mugs labelled “male tears” are just a symptom though. The real problem is still lurking in the second paragraph.

Which is, not to put too fine a point on it, sloppiness. The wave 2.9/Sex-in-the-City “feminism” that’s really just a cargo-cult style belief that emulating the worst elements of the patriarchy will give you the same freedom as the sexually caustic men who truly benefit from it is another good one. The conviction, true and to the bones, that when you tweeted “straight men are honestly garbage” that your ingroup, the straight men that you like and approve of (if any exist, who knows?), knew that you definitely didn’t mean them, that you were making a broader rhetorical point about those elements of straight masculinity that are often held up as the pinnacle of masculinity are so often self-destructive and harmful and can cause so much societal damage that men themselves, as a group, without reservations or exceptions because those are the confusing things needed denunciation (you were, of course, jut making that point - right? Right?) - but that some conservative motherfucker from Texas said that women who had had abortions needed to hang, and without reading the context first, you decided that he was full-bore 100% serious, and it was time to dogpile him - there’s another. 

I mean, he probably deserved it (?!). Even with context, it’s pretty spurious and a particularly bitter sort of sardonic that relies on reader knowledge of his position on capital punishment. Still...

I’m picking on ‘woke’ stuff mostly because there are enormous iniquities, and most of the problems that are talked about have a basis in reality that needs addressing, and progressive thought/politics are a good starting point. (Most. Not all problems.) It’s not really a surprise that irony has taken hold as the primary mode of ‘woke’  leftie discourse; when you mean only half of the shit you say literally anyway, irony is reflex. But again, you have to ask why it’s the continued mode when it has mostly ceased to serve; the field is choked with alarmist weeds, barrier-to-entry cowpies, and occasionally, the bodies of the ritually sacrificed dead lost in the tall grass when irony is abandoned, so poor is our grasp on earnestness. It could be what no one wants to acknowledge - that all of these methods, all these foibles, all these dope-as-hell roasts on twitter are just mimicking the suffering people endured at the hands of others, and gladly turn those tools on anyone “in power” at the first opportunity. Pause to meditate on the nearly Orwellian doublethink that is (rightly) wanting to change a society which degrades women whose appearance deviates from beauty norms, but having your opening mockery salvos toward shitty men be about how they’re balding, or unfavorable speculations on the size of their dick. Irony is virtually necessary as a paring mechanism; just hanging around some of these spaces is enough to see uncomfortable parallels of methodology between two ostensibly opposing sides - some sins are permitted by the ingroups, others are not, and the rules are arcane. 

It’s to the point that reading twitter can feel less like human interaction, and more like a visit to a faerie court. There’s no left and right in the politics of the internet mob - just Seelie and Unseelie. 

I mean, it’s no real skin off my back (until The Discourse comes for me, anyway). And even then, who knows? There’s dozens of posts/tweets/pieces of content/whatever written about how the left needs to unbunch its panties somewhat and let people grow - fine and good. I’m not necessarily hopeful that it’ll happen, since people love a show and a public execution tends to be a well-attended one, so far as shows go - doubly so when it’s just the death of public image (not coincidentally because you can kill those more than once and huzzah for that). But beyond its love for devouring its own young (and old), the conceptualization of progressivism as this delicate thing that will wilt at first touch of unworthy hand is nothing but pernicious. It’s already sold out, which is a good sign for a growing, healthy baby! Maybe, like, just maybe, if it were even a percentage as interested in recruiting as the DSA or say, the alt-right is, it could grow out of its tacit self-conceptualization as an institution which must be smol and pure, too good for this world. Or whatever it is that leads to the left getting so bored with itself it does stupid, navel-gazing shit in the face of literal fascism. 

[felicityb-reviews]

Kim Jonghyun - Feature Spotlight

Hello, babies!! My name is Jace (aka Felicity B), and welcome to the debut Feature Spotlight (aka your January surprise)!! Today we will counting down some of my favorite songs by the one, the only - Kim Jonghyun. Jonghyun is someone who was important to me, because he was somebody who fought tooth and nail to be happy and himself. And that's so important to someone like myself, because I have depression. It's actually the reason I created this blog - if I could keep myself occupied, doing something I love (talking about myself), then maybe the bad days won't seem so bad. Sometimes it's a fight for me to hold myself together, so seeing someone like Jonghyun, who was very open about the state of his mental health, throw his everything into being happy and free inspired me to do the same.

I figured if there's one thing I can do to honour him, it's to keep his memory alive through his music. And so that's what we're going to be doing for the month of January!! Today's Feature Spotlight will be drawing from Jonghyun's solo material, but the next three weeks will be dedicated to SHINee's discography. The next two Friday's will be lists featuring music from SHINee's Korean discography, and the final week will be music from their Japanese discography. I can't wait!!

Before we begin, we are some rules (I guess) I used to create this playlist -

The order is nothing special, sis; I don't like ranking songs, it feels Wrong™.

No feature tracks /Edna Mode Voice. Anything that has a music video AND was promoted on daily music shows is disqualified. These lists are for spotlighting b sides and music casual fans might have skipped over.

These lists aren't meant to a "The Best of". They're just a collection of songs I happen to like a lot, and think other people should list to, as well. Please do not get hung up on your favorites not being here, this is just my opinion, baby.

So now that we got all the rules out of the way (watch someone try me on this bullshit), let's begin with...

Hallelujah (BASE)

Hallelujah is a song that feels like it lives and breathes. No one created and arranged song to be what it is, it spawned into being the way it is. And boy is it an experience. The arrangement is sparse, but that's okay - it makes you pay attention to the few elements that are there. It's just an amazing listening experience, sis.

Inspiration (SM STATION)

Inspiration is about sex. Straight up. This song sounds like what I'd expect a filthy and rough fucking to feel like. But beyond that, this song is interesting because, despite how musically uncomplex it is, it sounds like there's way more going on than there actually is. Sometimes listening to Inspiration is like listening to a Hitchhiker song; idk if that was Jjong's intention, but I like it.

AURORA (She Is...)

AURORA is another one that sounds like sex, but it's quite the opposite of Inspiration. Where Inspiration is rough, AURORA is soft. Where Inspiration feels like pure need, AURORA feels like a soft want. Yes, that's cheesy af, but it gets my point across. AURORA feels like coming home to bae and relaxing into the sex cause y'all can. A brilliant track, if I do say so myself.

(And just so y'all don't get it twisted, Kim Jonghyun is the Kpop King of Funk; I will entertain no one else in this position.)

Suit Up (She Is...)

Oh look, another song about sex!! What can I say, songs about sex are great. Especially, Suit Up. Suit Up trades in the Funk elements of AURORA for a soft RnB back drop that is oh so effective. Suit Up is the Ultimate™ in soft sex songs (it's literally about having sex for the first time as a married couple). If we aren't dancing to this at my wedding, know I've been kidnapped and replaced by aliens.

Wouldn’t It Be Like That? (Fine) (The Collection ~Story Op. 1~)

First of all, that title is extra as all hell. But I'd expect nothing less from Kim "King Of The Drama Gays" Jonghyun. Secondly, this is a very straight forward acoustic RnB song. But that's what I like about it - it's no muss, no fuss. Jonghyun is extra as all hell (as all the members of SHINee are), but he knows when to scale it back. And he does so very nicely here.

Orbit (She Is...)

Orbit is (surprise, surprise) another Funk song. And, for those of you who remember the She Is... teasers, the first of the songs we heard. Not quite what we were expecting with its left of center arrangement, but then again, that teaser was just weird as hell. Anyway, underneath Orbit's quirky arrangement lies a very standard Funk song. But as was the case with Fine, I am very much okay with that. Orbit gives me happy brain tingles.

Love Belt (featuring Younha) (BASE)

Oh Love Belt... you make me happy brain tingle so hard. If Jjong had elected to go for a more bombastic arrangement for this song, it would have gone completely wrong. This is a love song that plays fast and loose with it's major elements. But thankfully, Jonghyun decided to scale it back (notice a trend here), and let the vocals shine. And speaking of vocals, how you doin' Miss Younha?!?!?!? Such a lovely addition to song. In fact, I'd say her voice goes with it better than Jjong's, but I'm not trynna fight with Blingers today.

No, ma'amsir!!!

Just Chill ( The Collection ~Story Op. 2~)

In case y'all haven't clockt my boring ass, I quite like what I love to call Acoustic Coffee Shop RnB Midtempos. They're pretty self explanatory - RnB songs you could listen to at a coffee shop. If you can't quite place the sound (even after listening to this list), just wait for Spring; you'll be bombarded with them. Anyway, I say all that to say that Just Chill is an excellently written Acoustic Coffee Shop RnB Midtempo. There's just a lil Funk thrown in their to keep your ears interested as the rest of you blisses out to the pure happiness of the track. It's just so good, sis.

Déjà-Boo (featuring Zion.T) (BASE)

THE KPOP KING OF FUNK MEETS THE K-RNB KING OF FUNK!!! FUCK Y E S!!!

Deja Boo is a song I was not fond of, at first. I thought Jjong and Zion.T sounded really awkward together, but (obviously) the song has grown on me quite a bit. It's just a really cute and endearing song by two very cute and endearing people.

02:34 ( The Collection ~Story Op. 1~)

02:34 has a few false starts (for lack of a better phrase), before she actually gets going. First, you think she's gonna be a ballad; then, you think you're getting a Funky uptempo; and finally, it resolves into an Acoustic Coffee Shop RnB Midtempo. You'd think Jonghyun was playing basketball with hard he jooks us with that intro, sis. But I digress. 02:34 is a nice RnB midtempo with a touch of melancholy to it that keeps it interesting.

I’m Sorry ( The Collection ~Story Op. 1~)

Oh look, a ballad. How quaint. You'd have thought the hardest part about doing this list would've been the uptempos, but it was actually the ballads that got me. Jonghyun has some very arresting ballads in his corner. Take I'm Sorry, for example. It's got the piano and strings that you'd expect from a song like this, but he throws out the classical ballad formula to do his own thing. And instead of using this as an excuse to show off his vocal prowess (we know that Kim Jonghyun can blow), he gives us a very breathy delivery that relays the emotion of the lyrics effectively.

Blinking Game ( The Collection ~Story Op. 2~)

Blinking Game is, in many ways, a spiritual successor to Happy Birthday (a song that features on the first Story Op album that I was unable to fit on this list, but a very lovely song, nonetheless). They're both caberet songs - downtempo little ditties I can see Jonghyun performing in a club for his boo thang. He's sat at a piano with a band playing behind him, and he's got this content little smile on his face. A lovely image. But back to Blinking Game. Despite not feeling like a ballad, it's got the pulse of one; it doesn't have anywhere urgant to go, sis. I'd say it meanders in a circle, like a slow dance, till it ends. A really nice song to relax to.

Elevator ( The Collection ~Story Op. 2~)

Listen to the first 10 seconds of this song, and you'll realize why this song is on this list. Idk if this is a standard diatonic progression or modal (my theory is not that good), but that progression makes my brain happy tingle like mad cray, fam. And then when Jonghyun sings... GIRL, WHEN HE SINGS OVER IT!!! It feels like I've disintegrated into a mass of star dust. God, this song is just so GOOD!!! I said that Jonghyun has some arresting ballads in his collection, but this one takes the cake, guys. I simply lack the words to fully describe the feeling this song invokes in me.

And that's it, guys!! Don't forget to tune back in on Wednesday at 6pm EST for my debut Review Roundup, featuring new songs from this week; and the first part of the SHINee Feature Spotlight on Friday at 6pm!! I hope you all have a lovely night (or morning if you happen to reading from, idk... Japan!!)!!

And he's the songs in a playlist, in case you wanna listen to the songs as you read my blathering. Love, you guys!!