#WE ARE CONSTANTLY OOZING

[destructive-ilya]

the human body is such a weird gross thing i’m ashamed i have one how are we not all screaming ??

[holybibly]

Some boys we call boyfriends, some we call husbands, but Kim Hongjoong we can only call Daddy.

Here are today's unholy thoughts, my beloved bunnies - More than anything else in his life, Hongjoong loves and adores his precious exotic pedigree cat hybrid, and there is nothing that gives him more pleasure than to spoil and corrupt you in every possible way.

Or you're lucky enough to be adopted by the hottest, most gorgeous owner you could ever imagine, and you enjoy your luxurious life with your filthy rich, sexy daddy to the fullest, allowing him to have you however he wants.

And what gives you so much pleasure is the way his tongue expertly dances between the folds of your wet, pretty pussy, and the way he fills you up with his cock, stretching your tiny hole to the very brim. You always feel so full and satisfied after he has filled you with his milky, thick cum until it starts to pour out of you, oozing out where the delicate edges of your hole are licking the thick girth of his cock. The sticky cum runs down the length, coating it completely in cream, which you'll be more than happy to lick off his delicious, veiny cock when he's finished playing with you.

After Hongjoong adopted you from a luxurious, elite nursery for exotic hybrids six months ago, your life began to resemble a fairy tale. At first, you couldn't get used to having such a handsome man next to you. You were constantly embarrassed by his hot, seductive looks and the loving words he spoke in his sultry, purring voice.

Every interaction you had was so intense, sending shivers of excitement through your skin and making the soft folds of your pretty pussy so wet. The more time you spent with Hongjoong, the more you became attached to him, and the more you wanted more of his caresses and touches. You wanted to feel him all over you, and your gorgeous owner was more than happy to give you whatever you wanted.

You loved the days when Hongjoong worked from home and let you sit on his lap all the time and you could play with yourself while he was busy. You were such a sweet, purring mess, using his thigh to rub your needy pussy against him to get pleasure, while he occasionally took a break from his work to give you a little attention, licking and sucking your soft, big tits, covering them with hickeys and the faint marks of his perfect teeth. Or you could warm his cock, feeling the pleasant pressure of its thick, veiny length nestled perfectly between the silky walls of your pussy. You could go on like this for hours until you started moaning about how much you wanted him to play with your pussy and fuck you until you squirted. And who was Hongjoong to say no to his sweet princess?

A light scratch on your swollen clit with his fingernail was enough to make you cum all over his cock, your loads flowing like a waterfall from your hole, running down his length and balls, and pooling in a pool of liquid lust on the chair beneath you.

You also enjoyed helping him bathe after a hard day's work. Hongjoong always looked so handsome and incredibly sexy as the light from the candles in the bathroom shimmered on his wet, smooth skin. And the way he would moan softly and hoarsely as you ran your hands over his body and kneaded his shoulders to relieve tension and give him pleasure, but most of all, you loved to see his orgasmic expression on his stunningly handsome face as you slowly and sensually stroked his cock and massaged his balls underwater as you kissed his beautiful neck with your mouth open. Hongjoong loved it when you left little hickeys on his skin. He wanted to belong to you as much as you belonged to him.

After bathing, you would always lie on his bare, wide chest, purring with pleasure and scratching him lightly while Joong scratched behind your fluffy ear and showered you with praise and compliments.

"My little queen," he called you as he tugged on your collar to pull you in for a deep, wet kiss as you rode his big, thick cock. He always fucked you so deep and so well that your hips started to shake and your pussy started to squelch loudly from the cum that was leaking out of you. Hongjoong is such an experienced and gorgeous man, and he taught you so many things you couldn't even think of, and the way he always got drunk on your sweet cunt and ate you up for hours was just indescribable.

All in all, Hongjoong was the most wonderful owner anyone could imagine, and you were so lucky to be his favourite kitty.

[leclerc-hs]

do i wanna know? (pt.2) - cl16

pairing: brother'sbff!charles x gasly!reader summary: in which you find yourself tangled in a web of emotions with your brother's best friend OR it was never just sex between you and your brother's best friend warnings: 18+, smut under the cut!, badly translated french (prob), angst!!!!, not proofread!! word count: ~2.3k author's note: SURPRISE SHAWTY!!!!!! i am here apologizing for being MIA for so long. if this is SHIT I apologize I just have been struggling with writer's block for months and have been very stressed and busy with work!!! I really tried my best so don't be too mean to me over this lmaooo. I love u all!!! there will be more of them to come ;) also since it's been so long since I've properly written this MIGHT be a little rusty so pls forgive me

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE TRANQUIL MELODY of the waves crashing against the shore is truly a captivating sight. You sat by the water in an oversized t-shirt and bikini bottoms, absorbed in the symphony of nature. So engrossed were you in the soothing sounds, the glistening water, and the caress of the breeze, that Charles’s approach caught you off guard.

“There you are,” his voice resonated like the ocean. You sensed the warmth of his presence as he settled beside you on the sand, propped up on his hands.

Though you didn’t turn to face him, you could feel his gaze fixed on your profile.

“Do you think we’re being stupid?” You couldn’t help but ask. 

“Quoi?” What?

“I just don’t want to hurt Pierre.” You finally turned your head to look at him. “Was it a mistake?”

You didn’t think it was. But the more you sat and thought about it, the more stressed over the situation you became. 

“No.”

You smiled softly, pulling your knees up and resting your head upon them as you truly took in the sight of him. 

“I think we should do it again.”

-

The two of you fell into a pattern quickly.

“Such a dirty fucking slut,” Charles groans out loud as he looked at the sight of you on your knees before him. His cock was heavy in your hand as you slowly start to pump him. Pre-cum leaking from the tip, oozing onto your fingertips. It was a gooey mess.

You stare up at him with a smirk on your lips as you take in his flushed cheeks and his pale knuckles from clenching the countertop so tightly.

“Mmm,” You moan as you bring him to your mouth, swirling your tongue around him slowly. You suck lightly before dragging him in and out of your mouth. 

You swore you could look at him for forever and never get tired of it. You were constantly in the depths of convincing yourself it was nothing but sex. 

“So fucking beautiful.”

“Could stare at you all day, mon ange.”

But is it really?

-

You’re not sure when it changed. But it did.

The gentle warmth of the morning sun seeped through the delicate curtains, causing you to let out a soft groan as you slowly awakened. Shifting in the bed, you squint against the bright light, and eventually force yourself to emerge from the cozy embrace of sleep.

As you turn your head, your attention was instantly met by the striking view of a broad, bare, and muscular back dominating your view. Instantly, a swarm of butterflies fill your stomach.

The early sunlight cast a soft glow on his smooth, tanned skin, accentuating the sculpted contours of his muscles. His breathing was steady and calm, a comforting rhythm that contrasted with the crisp morning air. His hair, slightly messy, fell against the nape of his neck.

The gentle upward curve of your lips was almost instinctive as you reached out toward him, running your fingers through the soft wisps of hair at his neck.

He lets out a small grumble as he shifts around, his face nestled in the pillows. Then, he turns to you, his gentle smile already in place before he opened his eyes. His arm drapes over you almost instantly, tugging you into the warmth of his body and immediately peppering soft kisses to your neck.

“Je pourrais rester ici pour toujours.” Could stay right here for forever. He whispers in between the soft kisses.

You feel the blush form on your cheeks almost instantly.

“Me too,” you respond softly.

“Do you think we could?”

The longing to say yes tugged at your heart, but you resisted, knowing the potential complications it could bring. Instead, you laughed, trying to shake off the heavy thoughts about the chaos and challenges that might follow. For now, it was just the two of you. Just two regular people.

No Pierre. No burdens of the outside world.

It’s been weeks of this. Whatever this was between you. You both found yourself too greedy to give it up. The sex was too good. He was too good.

-

Strong fingers intertwine with the strands of your hair, a delicate tug at the roots sends a tingling sensation cascading across your scalp, igniting a fiery yet exquisite sensation that dances on the edge of pleasure and exhilaration. 

“Nous devons faire attention.” We need to be careful. You softly groan as your bare back becomes flush against the contours of his chest, slightly dampened with sweat. The pace of his hips doesn’t falter as he brings his lips to the shell of your ear.

“Pourquoi?” Why? You know he’s teasing you. “Want me to stay hidden, hm?” The one hand that rests against the soft skin of your hips squeezes hard, as if he needed the reminder that you were here and, in his arms, and on his cock. “Ton petit secret sale?” Your dirty little secret?

The words wouldn’t come. Every time you tried to speak, they tangled in your throat, choked by the weight of the situation. You wanted to tell Charles that you didn’t see him that way, that he meant more to you than anyone else. But your brother…his best friend, loomed too large over whatever it was you two were.

You struggled to hide your wince as Charles places a quick but harsh squeeze to your throat. 

“Not even that will shut you up, hm?” He groans in between each thrust. “Pierre is in the room next over. It’s like you want to be caught.”

“Maybe I should just call him in here, hm?” 

You felt yourself pushing back against his thrusts, meeting him in the middle at a feverish pace, needing to remove the ache between your legs.

“Let him see how big of a cock slut you really are.”

You shook your head, soft moans escaping your dampened lips as his arm slips down and presses to your clit.

“No?” He eggs you on. “You’re just my little cockslut, right?”

You nod eagerly, your head lolled back against the crevice of his shoulder and neck for support. 

“Say it.” He demands, his fingers quickening on your clit. “Tell me you’re my little cockslut while you cum all over me.”

“I’m-“ You struggle to get the words out, too caught up in the way his cock slips in and out of you, his fingers rubbing your clit, and the groans escaping past his lips into your ear.

“C’mon mon ange,” He grits. “Make a fucking mess.”

“I’m yours.”

It happened so fast, it was almost a blur as Charles hurriedly pushes you face first into the mattress, hips slamming into you at such a speed, you both went soaring over the edge of your orgasms.

A few quiet minutes passed as you both caught your breath, little laughs and smiles as both of your bodies lie in a tangled mess.

-

“The Gala is coming up,” Charles spoke. His throat burning in anticipation as he waited for you to catch onto what he was implying. He wanted you by his side. Wanted you on his arm. Wanted no one to touch you but him.

“Nous avons déjà discuté de cela.” We’ve discussed this already.

Charles could slowly feel the annoyance building in his chest as he pushed himself up off the bed, dragging his body to the bathroom to retrieve a wet cloth to clean you up. He wasn’t used to this, to say the least. And he wanted you to himself so fucking badly.

It wasn’t until after his finished cleaning you up, that he spoke again. “Combien de temps?” How long?

You sat up, slipping on whatever article of clothing was closest to you. No doubt, one of Charles’ worn t-shirts that draped to your thighs.

You tilted your head to the side just slightly, encouraging him to continue.

“How long will you avoid telling Pierre?”

-

Giving Charles the silent treatment was probably the worst thing you could’ve done to him. But you didn’t know what else to do. 

Your back was turned to him, the burn of his eyes on the nape of your neck had you on high alert. You couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t meet his gaze.

The room felt colder with each passing second, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you both. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak. A part of you wanted to turn around, to meet his gaze and to find some way to fix whatever this was. But the fear of what you might see in his eyes—hurt, anger, hunger—kept you frozen in place. Well, as frozen as you could be while dancing with another man.

He was proper cute. Tan skin, chocolate eyes, scruffy hair. His name, however, slipped past your mind. You think it was Rob. Or was his name Ryan? Something with an R. You think.

It didn’t help in the slightest bit that Pierre is the entire reason you’re in this situation to begin with. He practically forced you into the arms of Rob. Or is it Ryan?

“You look beautiful tonight,” The man looked down upon you, a small grin on his face as he twirled you around the dance floor. A small blush crept up on your cheeks.

“Merci.” You thanked him. “How do you know my brother?” You needed to keep the conversation going. Anything to take your mind off the stare burning your skin from afar.

He opened his mouth to begin a response but was instantly interrupted as soon as the voice of another was by your side.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Charles began, but he was clearly anything but sorry. His voice was stoic, void of any emotion but annoyance. “I need a word with you.” And before you could put up any argument, his fingers clasped onto your wrist, dragging you away from the dance floor and out of the ballroom.

Despite your protests for him to slow down, he continued at his unrelenting pace, tagging you along without regard to your inability to keep up. Charles then ushered you, if one could call it that, into what appeared to be a cramped coat closet.

The dim lighting obscured the usual green hue of his eyes, leaving you uncertain whether it really was the poor illumination or his evident anger that caused this change.

“Are you crazy?” You half-shout, waving your arms in the air in frustration once you pull your wrist from his grip. “You just made an absolute scene in there!” 

“I made a scene?” He raises his voice in frustration. Like he can’t believe that you have an issue with his behavior when you were the one dancing with another man. “You might as well just go fuck that guy on the dance floor!” 

He knew he was talking in fits of jealousy, and he knows that it’s wrong. But he couldn’t contain it. Couldn’t help but have an outburst over this situation. You didn’t even look at him the entire night.

“It was one dance!”

“I don’t care if it’s just one. It may as well be five hundred!” He sneered while his fists clenched at his sides. “Je ne partage pas.” I don’t share.

“I can’t do this right now.” You pleaded softly.

“Do what, exactly?”

“This.” You silently begged for him not to continue questioning. To not go there.

“And what is this?” or what he really meant is ‘what are we?’.

You both fell into a silence as the weight of the question weighed down on you both. You didn’t want to reach this point. You both knew what it was, but you weren’t ready for the answer. It was supposed to be fun and just sex. Something Pierre would never need to know about.

Charles took your silence as an answer. But he refused to accept it. He made a small step towards you, his green eyes locked onto yours, to which you retreated one back.

“Please don’t come closer,” You begged with a small quiver of your lip. “I need you to stand a step away from me.” You knew the moment he was closer; you were done for. Your resolve would be over.

“I can’t.” He emphasized. “I can’t stay away. Not from you.” He was distraught. Why didn’t you understand? 

“Charles, please.” Your lip quivered just slightly as your hands fell at your sides, your fingers playing with the fabric of your dress.

“Do you think I want to be like this?” He pushed. “Do you think I want to be thinking about my best friend’s sister 24/7?” He could feel his resolve slipping the longer he stared at you. You were beautiful, one of the easiest people to talk to, and he couldn’t not love you.

It was so quick. One second you both were feet apart, the next his lips were pressed against yours as your hands grabbed onto his biceps pulling him closer to you. The feel of his muscles underneath his suit were prominent against your fingertips as you moaned softly into his mouth.

Both hands enveloped your jawline, sprawling onto your neck in a feverish rush. It was a clash of tongue and teeth, and neither of you wanted to stop.

[formulawolff]

"you belong here" - s.v.

pairing: gf!reader x aston martin!sebastian vettel

word count: 1.5k

warnings: (slight) age gap relationship, a little bit of cursing here and there, seb being absolutely down bad for the reader, some (slight) angst, the general public being judgmental, (slight) slut shaming, the drivers being little shits (as always), yadayadayada

a/n: i am a perfectionist when it comes to writing personalities, mannerisms, cadences of words, etc. so if i happened to not do the best job with this fic, please be patient with me!!! this is my first time writing for seb!!! i am open to feedback!!! <3

"okay, from the top. how many drivers are there?"

"twenty."

"nope!" he shakes his head, his lips curling into a smug smirk, "there are nineteen drivers. sorry love, but you were incorrect."

"sebastian," you scoff, rolling your eyes, "you needed to specify if you were included. because if you weren't included, there would be nineteen other drivers. if you were, there would be twenty."

"that's why it's called a trick question," his hand squeezes yours, "your hands are clammy, by the way."

"maybe because i'm nervous?" you counter, "this is my first time tagging along to a grand prix, you know."

"i know," he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it tenderly, "i'm sorry for being a little pest."

"you're not a pest," your heart swells at the gesture, "i'm just anxious to meet everyone, that's all."

"oh they'll love you," confidence oozes out of his words, "i have no doubts about that."

sebastian vettel, four time world drivers' champion, was your boyfriend of the last year or so. the two of you met online, as you had slid into his dms on instagram after a very intoxicated evening out with friends.

since you had a love for formula one since you were a teenager, you admired drivers such as lewis hamilton, nico rosberg, daniel ricciardo, and well, sebastian.

you weren't quite sure where the love for the sport came from, but you could remember the sleepless nights you spent on youtube, eagerly clicking through racing highlights through various grand prixes. the sleepovers where your friends would be doing makeovers on you or painting your nails as you chattered about all of the driver drama and lore.

so, when you learned that mr. vettel was very single, and very open to the world of dating, you decided to shoot your shot. it took about six or seven drinks, but you mustered the courage to type out those fateful words.

i heard your single. we should change that.

shockingly, you received a response not too long after sending the message.

i believe it's *you're and not your. why should i take you up on your offer? you're a very beautiful woman but i need a little more information before i take you out on a date. ;)

from that message, the two of you chatted constantly, getting to know one another in-between shifts at your job, and his free time between races, press conferences, and training sessions.

eventually, he asked for your number, requesting a facetime call. you obliged, the two of you talking for hours upon hours that night. only a week or so later, he flew you out to his place in switzerland, requesting that you spend the weekend with him.

you did, falling for him the moment you met him in person. well, not like it was difficult by any means. with his charming aura and goofy persona, you felt comfortable almost immediately, letting your walls come crashing down.

nothing was too much or too out-of-pocket. you could make all of the vulgar jokes you wished, and he would laugh right along, only escalating the joke further. you could cry on his shoulder about anything, and he would happily rub your back, wiping away the tears that fell. he would hold you every night you slept together, not letting go until you wriggled away in the mornings.

and now, here you were, hand-in-hand as you entered the paddock. your heart skips a beat as your gaze falls on lance stroll, sebastian's fellow driver and teammate.

upon seeing you, his mouth curves into a bright smile, "look who it is!"

"i know you're not that excited to see me," sebastian pouts, "or did you really miss me that much?"

lance rolls his eyes at sebastian, sticking out his right hand, "good morning! i'm lance. i'm the other aston martin driver. well, you probably already know that."

"it's nice to meet you," you suppress a giggle, "i've heard a lot about you!"

"oh have you?" lance arches a brow, turning to sebastian, "have you been talking shit?"

"always pooks," sebastian chuckles, "not really. i just happen to talk a lot about racing. i'm sure she's tired of it by now."

"oh never," you flash sebastian a radiant grin, "i never get tired of all of the racing talk. i've loved formula one since i was about thirteen or so."

"that's awesome!" lance gushes, "you have yourself a keeper then, seb."

"i know i do," you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder, "should we go meet some fans? i promise they won't bite."

"fans?" you echo, a shiver running down your spine.

"well yeah," lance nods, "we have some time before we need to meet up with everyone. we usually chat with some fans, hand out some autographs. nothing too serious or glamorous."

"if you say so," you mumble, the words so quiet you were shocked you heard them.

it wasn't like you were dreading interacting with fans, it was just that you were a bit daunted by the idea.

ever since sebastian went public with you about a month ago, the reaction from the public was mixed. one half was adamant that you were too young for the driver, as there was an almost fifteen year age gap between the two of you. the plethora of negative comments that flooded the comment section of your instagram posts was almost too much to bear.

the other half, however, was very supportive, voicing that they "shipped" the two of you or that you were good for the driver. some comments even went as far to say that you were "a breath of fresh air", and that sebastian needed someone like you in his life.

yet, as the three of you stroll out of the paddock, you hoped for the latter. that the fans would be kind, welcoming you with open arms.

you could only dream, right?

"sebastian!"

"sebastian over here!"

voices flurry about, calling from all directions. everywhere all around, it was almost a sea of green, fans donning aston martin gear from head to toe. people of all ages flooded your field of vision, children hoisted on their parents shoulders to men and women in their seventies, maybe even their eighties.

"baby, can i see your purse?" his breath fans against your ear, snapping out of your trance.

"yeah," you nod, fumbling with your bag, "y-you need your sharpie, right?"

"hey," fingers find yours, intertwining them together, "it's just you and i. forget everyone else. just think about you and i."

"it's hard to-" you protest, yet you're swiftly cut off by a voice rising above the midst of the crowd.

"who invited the slut?"

sebastian's brows furrow, his eyes narrowing into slits, "what the fuck?"

more voices cut in, jeering.

"put her back in her crib! where she belongs!"

"you heard what i said! who invited that slut beside you?"

"goddamn," lance mutters under his breath, "what the fuck are they on right now?"

tears well up, threatening to spill over as you duck your head, lower lip trembling. sebastian senses your energy shift, wrapping a protective arm around your waist. he pulls you in close, pressing gentle kisses along your temple.

"come on, let's go back to the paddock. you don't deserve this."

lance flashes you a sympathetic glance before raising a hand, giving the crowd the finger, "whoever said that, this is for you!"

every aspect of the walk back is blurred as the tears fall. your lips are sealed tightly shut, suppressing the sobs rising in your chest.

you were barely here an hour and fans were already heckling you.

could you even last the weekend here?

did you even belong here?

"hey," his voice is soft, "come here."

blinking, you realize that he had taken you back to his motorhome, a private space for just the two of you. his arms are open, inviting you in. you nearly collapse into his chest, burying your head in it as he rubs your back.

"i'm so sorry."

"you don't have to be sorry," you shrug, swallowing the lump in your throat, "they're right. i don't belong here."

"stop that," fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head up, "you do belong here. you belong here just as much as anyone else does. i need you here."

"you promise?"

"i promise baby," sebastian tucks a few wisps of hair behind your ear, "you're irreplaceable. who cares what they think? just focus on me. it's just you and i this weekend, okay?"

"okay," you nod, sniffling slightly.

"you know what i think?" he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

"what?" you inquire, the tears dissipating as he brings you in closer.

"they're just jealous that i have the most breathtaking, stunning, kindest, funniest girlfriend in the whole wide world. and no one, i mean no one, can take that away from me. you're mine baby. and nothing is ever going to change that."

you find yourself nearly crumbling into his chest once again, "you mean that?"

"of course i do. now, let's go try this again. if anyone is rude or hateful, i'll just spit on them, okay?"

[hxltic]

nsfw warning!!

Geto is an asshole.

And what comes with that, is his asshole tendencies.

You’re absolutely livid, yelling into your phone about something, but he can’t even tell you what, because he’s too busy with matters in his own hands. Literally.

“I actually can’t do this. You’re so goddamn frustrating!” Your finger presses to your temple as you pace the kitchen of your apartment, feet patting heavy against the tile. “Are you even listening!?”

And no, he isn’t, because then you hear it. Deep breaths, accompanied by the occasional grunt.

It stuns you out of your anger. Is he serious? You press your ear to the cool screen of the phone you’re holding tight in your hand as if it would help you hear clearer. You test in utter disbelief, “Geto, are you there?”

“Huh,” is the breathless response, “Yeah, baby, I’m here. What were you saying?”

And you fall right into his trap by repeating yourself despite how angry you are, trying to dismiss what you presume he’s doing. Until it intensifies.

On the other line, his hand is sliding to his base, gripping his balls, then trailing right back up to the tip where he squeezes, the precum oozing out onto his thumb. “Fuck,” the curse spills from his mouth.

There’s a shit show playing on your side while he’s sulking in the comfort of his bed and your passionate voice over the phone. You try your best to ignore the slow throb between your legs and continue defending your argument. However, he becomes too much to ignore.

“Are you jerking off right now? Seriously?” You walk yourself back into your room and sit on the side of the bed. He only answers with a moan into the air that was deliberately louder than the ones before it.

A beat passes, then you hear him and the faint squelching of his hand running along his slick cock in the background. “You’re so annoying.”

“Shit, I’m so what?” He rushes out, but he heard you loud and clear.

How couldn’t he? The phone was pressed right up against his ear by his shoulder. You can practically hear the smirk on his face but you’re not falling for it again; Geto knows you know how much he loves your filthy mouth and hearing you so upset that uncommon curse words begin to fly from your lips. “Are you touching yourself? You don’t take anything seriously! I’m trying to have a real conversation!”

“In my defense, you don’t know how sexy you sound right now.”

You put it on speaker, face turning red while you shout into the mic. Was it embarrassment or fury? You don’t know. But you’ve already fueled his desire by previously cursing at him and saying crude things, so you try to refrain from that. He constantly talks about how his blunt, dirty mouth rubs off on you. “I take things seriously.” He adds, his tone still teasing. An audible hum of pleasure travels through the line.

“Geto. No you don’t. We wouldn’t be here if you weren’t doing what you’re doing— it’s why we’re arguing in the first place!”

“And what am I doing?” He huffs out, but you’re too distracted by the rage to consider what he’s trying to finesse you into saying. His hand picks up speed from the slow, lazy strokes.

“You’re fucking yourself over the phone! Can’t you understand how upset I am!?” And then you realize the result of your actions when he groans loudly and the squelching picks up. You don’t imagine his rugged breaths or the rise and fall of his chest because it’s getting harder and harder to stay angry, but then what he considers more important will all return to you, bringing the irritation tenfold. “You’re the worst.”

He chuckles gently and another groan follows. “Say it again.”

“You’re. The. Worst.”

“God, keep going, I’m close,” he presses on.

You clench your thighs together and mentally curse him at the same time. You guess you had said it aloud too, but you hadn’t known since it came out as a murmur and an afterthought. “I hate you, go to hell.”

It’s then he swiftly twists his wet, red tip and the loudest groan you’ve heard all night ensues. Geto honestly wasn’t really a moaner, but you knew it was real, the grunt and the sounds and the quick air blowing into the mic afterwards.

You also knew it wasn’t helpful to accidentally keep entertaining him and enjoy the audio in the meantime when you could have hung up by now, but you couldn’t help it. There was something compelling you from pressing the big red button and it has everything to do with the clever man and his sounds.

Faded white spurts out everywhere onto his abdomen, some reaching up to his chest. He feels slightly lightheaded, but lightweight in the rest of his body too, so you sit there silently on the other end before picking up him saying, “Shit, I needed that. Come see me? We’ll talk, I swear.”

You hate your voice for losing all its volume, “I don’t believe you.”

“If it’s in person, you get to slap me if I make you mad.”

And at first thought, this is appealing. But then you think about it, and how it pairs with your masochist boyfriend. “Fine. But I’m not going to hit you.” You raise from the bed onto your feet.

“Well don’t take out the fun part, princess.”

©️hxltic

[waywardsonsandaughters]

So I wrote a thing. Orbwin and Chorb have been living in my head rent free and this is what came of it. Please note, it's not beta read, but I hope you enjoy (it was so much fun to write).

-----

It was an unseasonably warm day when it happened.

Charles didn’t notice at first. He was a ghost. Ghosts don’t get warm. He had smiled wryly, hearing the curt, but affectionate, admonishment from Edwin even without Edwin having to verbalize it.

“Ghosts don’t need to sleep, Charles.” Edwin would sigh.

“Charles, ghosts just don’t get sick.” the words punctuated as if that would help it stick.

“Remember Charles, we can’t feel anything of the living.” the statement was always delicate, as if Edwin didn’t want to upset Charles. 

“We don’t feel hot or cold. Really, Charles.” it came as an impatient scoff, but as with anything, infused with a fondness Charles knew Edwin reserved just for him.

Charles was positive though that he could do all of the things Edwin claimed they couldn’t. 

He knew at times he could feel cold, and sick. The deep chill settling into his bones, the wheeze he could sometimes feel when he took breaths he didn’t actually need to take. Once in a while, if he turned the wrong way something would pinch in his side around his ribs, or his head would throb for a moment. There wasn’t a catalyst, and he knew he was more sensitive to temperature because of how he died.

He never slept, but it was easier for him to find relaxation in the darkness of his closed eyes than Edwin ever would. He would doze on the couch, if they took the train, anytime they took an outing. 

He especially loved parks. 

Charles would insist they find a place to sit so Edwin could watch the living and Charles could close his eyes leaning against Edwin, laying his back on the grass with his legs draped over Edwin, or his head sometimes cradled in Edwin’s lap. 

Edwin would indulge him, telling him about the people he observed, and would even read sometimes. Every so often they would clasp hands, or Charles could feel Edwin’s fingers circling an ankle, or he’d feel thin graceful fingers stroking his hair. He might not feel the living or their things, but he could feel Edwin. Dozing was so easy in those moments. 

This day, Charles had been standing by their case board, hand gripping one of their note cards moving it from open to closed. Part of him faced the window, and he could feel the sun on his skin. He remembered the feeling of it, and the matter that made him a ghost flooded into those sun-kissed spots, filled with the warmth of his memories, and relaxation settled into his limbs. 

As his shoulders dipped, tension uncurled. The relaxation shifted, the heaviness of sleep oozed through him. He’d see if he could tempt Edwin into a park day soon, satisfied in knowing he could sleep and Edwin could also take some time to decompress.

He worried for Edwin, nearly constantly, and in varying degrees, since their time in Port Townsend, and learning about the previous relatively unspoken 70 years of Edwin’s afterlife in Hell. He knew, as easily as he knew his own name, that Edwin needed a break.

As he had picked the next card, reading through the delicate handwriting outlining quick notes of the case, Crystal had come into the office, fanning herself with her hands before sweeping her hair back, trying to get as much of it as she could off her neck. She collapsed onto the couch with a grimace. It was hot. The office. The couch. Everything and anything, really.

Charles glanced at Edwin, smiling, who had been sitting behind their desk. There was a small huff, Edwin shifting his gaze from Crystal to Charles as if to say both “the living,” and “what do we do?”

Easily, Charles replied to Crystal they could look at getting fans, as air conditioning would be difficult for such an old building. However, he kept watching Edwin.

Edwin looked…uncomfortable? Flushed? Tired? Charles tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing. It wasn’t any of those exactly, it was something else. Edwin, he found, was extremely good at hiding his emotions, except annoyance, and his discomfort. This time the vague sense of Edwin being uncomfortable was different. While Edwin and Crystal had debated the best ways to keep cool, including getting a fan, Charles kept his attention on his partner.

The conversation moved into the case, Crystal having exhausted her options and Edwin having run out of patience. As Edwin reached for the case file from a pile on the desk Charles saw the moment, the moment in between the moments. He could see the folder through Edwin’s fingers. Charles stepped forward, and there must have been something in the way he had moved that had Edwin looking up at him. 

Charles paused. He saw Edwin’s gaze unfocus, before sliding a vacant expression to the case file. In the skipped beat between Edwin catching his eye and turning to the folder, Charles could feel the anticipation ebbing and flowing within him as he stood arrested, waiting.

When the file opened, and Edwin began outlining the expectations and situation to Crystal, Charles felt a prickling sensation in his skin, he wiggled his fingers, felt his calves tighten wanting to lurch forward for what he knew was inevitable. Edwin, Charles realized, hadn’t figured it out yet.

To Charles, it felt like hours before Edwin gently closed the file, handing it to Crystal who had come to stand beside Edwin at the desk. Charles saw her arch a brow slightly and he knew she was trying to puzzle something out. 

As she passed him on the way to the door, Crystal stopped and they were side-by-side. Their arms brushed and she didn’t look at him, still facing the door, Charles facing the desk, and he felt her hand grasp at his and squeeze. Charles squeezed back, gaze trained on Edwin as he quietly, steadily, asked Crystal to give them, he and Edwin he meant, some time. 

She replied she’d follow up after her part of the case, and they both moved, Crystal to the door, flipping the recently acquired open/closed sign to “closed” and locking the door behind her, and Charles to Edwin.

In the steps to the desk, Charles saw color surface on Edwin’s face, heat blooming on his cheeks and down his neck to his ears. He saw the dazed expression slide over Edwin’s features, and the slight tremble starting in his fingers as he held another case file, the material bending as his grip tightened. The tremble moved up to Edwin’s shoulders, his chest, before it looked as if Edwin could vibrate apart.

There was a small gasp of surprise from Edwin just as Charles reached out. He had intended to pull Edwin to him, but Charles' hands met empty air and a pop of light illuminated the space where Edwin had sat.

Charles wasn’t sure what had caused the shift, it could have been any number of things, and it didn’t matter. Edwin was exhausted, psychologically spent, and currently settled into the desk chair as a small orb, a faint golden light pulsing in time with what Charles believed to be a heartbeat. Periodically, the light would tint with a pale blue hue.

He scooped Edwin up in his cupped hands, pulling the orb close to his chest. While they were vulnerable in this state they weren’t delicate, but Charles treated him as such as he wrapped his hands tightly around Edwin, padding softly to the couch, and squished himself into the cushions.

It was rare this happened to either of them. Charles hated seeing Edwin push himself to the point of change, but there was a pleasant thrumming of adoration that nearly paralyzed him as he held the pure essence, the soul, of Edwin Payne gently in his palms.

He wasn’t sure if Edwin could hear him but as he slouched back, legs extended into the office space and hugging Edwin to his heart, he whispered to him and ran a finger across the orb as if to run fingers through Edwin’s hair, and closed his eyes.

Crystal, file in hand, entered the office. The sign was still showing “closed” and the door was still locked. Since she’d last seen them she had done as much of the up front work as she could, and needed their help. She was surprised neither Edwin or Charles had mirror hopped to her apartment to check in; Edwin was rather impatient at times, and despite giving them over a day to make an appearance she was also eager to close the case.

The office was quiet. The lights were still on, the desk as she had last seen it with the files stacked neatly to one side although one of the files was askew in the center. The desk chair was pushed back, and the door with the case board was open. She turned, looking around, and was about to leave thinking they’d both gone out, exasperation tugging at her expression and shifting her shoulders when she saw a soft, unfamiliar light rebounding off the polished wood floor by the couch.

Stepping further into the room and peering over the low wall to the couch she tilted her head, mouth parting into an “O” as she saw two glowing orbs nestled on the couch each one pulsating in turn. 

They were beautiful. The glow of one, periodically tinted red, would catch up to the other. The calm increase then decrease in light would be the same in both before settling back into a varying rhythm. Then the other would follow soon after, the glow of the pair beating in time, before falling out of sync.

Without thinking, Crystal made her way to the couch and carefully, as not to disturb either of them, sat beside the glowing forms of Edwin and Charles. Her hands hesitated over them both, the protective desire to hold them making her fingers twitch. She smiled fondly, but held back, knowing how much Edwin would protest being touched or held by anyone other than Charles. 

She pulled her phone out of her bag and popped in ear buds while softly, lovingly, telling them she’d keep an eye on them. She let the sentiment curl around them, she hoped they could hear it.

Her heart beat. The orbs pulsed brightly in time.

[g0dlyunsub]

red herring.

in which spencer can’t stop teasing you about how you constantly try to draw his attention away from your rather flawed board/card game skills.

pairing :: spencer x reader

warnings :: none? some [really slight] sexual tension but it’s mostly spencer being his witty self.

word count :: 1.3k

author’s note :: second post is now up! i’m a sucker for pure fluff that involves constant bickering, especially when it involves spencer’s ginormous brain. mention of his glasses like thrice. i also just realized i missed the opportunity to title this as reid herring, but i'm too lazy to change the cover :3

accompanying song :: show me by mac ayres and chris anderson

you let out a deep sigh before you can stop yourself, and you instantly try to fake cough to mask your disappointment. spencer’s quick to notice, however, and he flashes a smile at you. his glasses hitch up slightly as his nose lightly crinkles, and you can’t help but look and admire. in comparison, your smile is always turned downwards and you’ve never felt comfortable displaying a wide smile like his. 

you’d find his smile to be refreshing any other day, but right now, it’s more of a nuisance than anything. 

“what, can’t admit that you’ve lost the last seven games of chess?” spencer chuckles playfully and rests his chin on his hand. 

you huff in frustration and tap the table with your index finger. “you’ve been playing this game since like what, when you were a week old? your elo rating is probably well above candidate masters and-”

“so what else do you want to try? i’ve handicapped my queen, my bishop, do you want a rook gone next?” the rim of spencer’s glasses gleams under the lighting as he asks, and you hate how everything seems to be on his side. 

“no,” you pout, and tip over your king to surrender. “i want to play something different.” you fold your arms in front of your chest as you speak and lean back in your chair.

“you know, if it helps, i could explain the strategies i used to counter your plays. these seven- well eight games, we’ve played the italian defense three times, the caro-kann setup twice, the sicilian defense once, which is pretty impress-” you cut spencer short when you clear your throat and raise your eyebrows.

“can we not… talk about chess right now?” you pout once again, and push the chess board to the side of the table.

“well. is there anything else that you want to play?” spencer adjusts his glasses as you scratch the back of your head in contemplation.

“old maid. i’m a natural at that game,” you suggest, and you notice the corner of spencer’s lips tug into a smirk.

“oh, i bet you are. try me.” confidence oozes from his words and your heart beats just a little faster. he’s enjoying this a little too much.

“i’ll deal the cards.” you grab a deck of cards from the drawer of your desk and shuffle the cards in a swift and fluid manner.

“that’s right, in a classic two-player situation for a deck of 1 card to a deck of 51 cards, the latter of which is the standard for a game of old maid, the expected probabilities for the dealer winning are always higher than the non-dealer. if you’re really going for the win, i’d recommend playing with a smaller deck of cards, but the difference is really minimal. you’re looking at a simulated probability of 50.4 percent with 51 cards versus 51.8 percent with 23 cards.” spencer rolls the facts off his tongue like it’s common sense, and you blink rapidly in stunned confusion. he’s playing it off with a goofy smile again. ugh.

the next hour is filled mostly with intense silence, and you could swear a part of your brain was going to short circuit from mental exhaustion any minute. 

“is it… here? hm?” spencer observes your facial expressions for any note of change, but you wouldn’t give it to him. you remain unphased as his fingers trail between your cards and pull the rightmost card from your grip. 

your heart makes an ecstatic turn when he takes the old maid and it takes everything in you to suppress your smile. so much for being a profiler.

your excitement doesn’t last, however, when he slightly cocks his head to the side and starts to shuffle his cards. it’s endgame, and you might be able to come out of this with your first victory. 

you lean in ever so slightly, brushing your fingers atop each card and pausing in between. your eyes lock onto his hazel beads, and neither of you blink. 

“it’s not this card.” you move to the next card, and spencer raises an eyebrow.

“are you sure? you know, statistically speaking, when one shuffles their deck of-” your hand snakes under his cards and you lay a finger to his lips. 

“shh, i’m trying to concentrate,” you whisper, and everything goes silent. the tension between the two of you hangs suspended in the air and it’s increasingly harder for you to focus on the game. in fact, you’re thinking of everything but the cards in front of you. 

you draw in a deep breath and settle on the card that sits second to last in his right palm. when you turn the card over, a frown instantly overtakes your face. the old maid had instantly made its way back into your set of cards.

the rest of the game is torturous; each turn, spencer discards his pairs one by one, and your disappointment seeps through your loud sighs. 

you set the last card on top of the messy pile of pairs. it’s a loss, again. 

“spence, i’d beat you in any target game like darts.” you lift your head with an exhausted groan.

“you know, phil taylor, a 16-time world darts champion, is often cited to utilize geometry to his strategic advantage since he aims for the triple 20 section, which is one of the highest scoring areas of the board. it takes practice, of course, to nail the angle down, but an estimation of the dart's projectile motion offers great leverage to your precision.” he looks at you as you start to stack up the cards and stuff them back into their case.

after a pause, he continues: “can i not impress my favorite person once in a while?" he reaches for your hand to interlace his fingers with yours. 

his thumb rubs the cave between your thumb and index finger in a circular motion, and you feel your body relax under his touch. you suppress your excitement at the mention of the word favorite by pursing your lips.

“you always impress me, spence. wait – hey, is that a red herring, coming from you?” you question, pulling his hand towards you.

“perhaps. and i’ll actually address mine, unlike a certain someone…” a sly grin spreads across his face.

“but what about that one time you-” you start, raising your other hand to contest. 

“hm. interesting. that’s your first whataboutist reply in two days,” spencer cuts you off short. what an actual jerk.

he breaks into a small fit of laughter before he waves his hand to control himself. you, on the other hand, aren’t impressed. he stands, his figure towering over you as you remain seated.

“come on, let’s grab a cup of coffee before we head out for the weekend. i’ll walk you home.” spencer motions for you to get up, and you reluctantly follow suit. you’re glad you could spend more time with the witty doctor, but you hadn’t expected to accumulate even more stress after work was over. a cup of coffee is exactly what you need to get a moment of relaxation.

he hands you your cup of coffee and turns to face you while stirring his drink with a coffee stick.

“hey, uh, listen. it’s been really nice playing with you today, and if you wanted to play again sometime, talk about strategies, stuff like that…” he trails off, watching you as you take a sip of your hot drink.

“of course, if you’ll ever consider adopting me as your apprentice,” you jokingly respond, and a glimmer surfaces in his eyes. before he can respond, you lean in and embrace him. 

“i’m just kidding. invite me for a card game any time.” you look up so your forehead sits right under his chin. he’s surprised at your sudden move, but he sets his cup down and returns the hug.

“poker next?” 

“oh hell no. get out of here.” you laugh and take his hand as you walk out of the office while he desperately scrambles for his cup with his free hand. both of your laughs echo down the hallway and trail behind as the elevator doors close.

[tealvenetianmask]

I want to take apart the use of the word, "dramatic" in the fandom a little and try to understand why it gets applied to Stolas so often and not to Blitz. Because, honestly, they both sort of are . . .

If dramatic means "oozes emotions and makes the audience feel something for them." Both have really intense emotional moments in the show.

The truth is, they also both hold back quite a lot though. (So maybe neither is dramatic?) There are tons of examples, but to save space, here's one of each. We see Stolas forcing his face serene in the middle of a drunken crying session in Apology Tour, and we see Blitz leave rather than let Stolas see him cry in Ozzie's.

And they BOTH don't let the people in their lives see that they're hurting. Stolas wears a mask for Octavia, and Blitz wears a mask for . . . everyone in his life, really . . . Until recently, both wore masks for each other pretty much constantly too. But when they're each alone, we see the truth.

Okay, so obviously it comes down to presentation, right? Specifically gender presentation . . .

Stolas gets judged as dramatic (and even whiny or self-absorbed in anti circles) because he laments in deep, lofty ballads, with make-up dripping down his face, which is honestly such a win for all the grown-up emo kids watching. He relates to soap opera protagonists and wants to be chased after while he's boarding a train. He reads romance novels.

In short, when he expresses emotions, when he consumes media about romance . . . he's being traditionally "feminine." (A note: this is also why he's often portrayed by fans as "the woman" in the relationship- and that can have its own problems, since, yes, this is a gay relationship between two men, and regardless of gender presentation, neither needs to be "the woman.")

Blitz on the other hand . . . well. He's not masculine in every way either, is he? He loves to crossdress for fun work. When he's enjoying his down time, he's watching two cutesy horses kissing.

But he expresses emotions in ways that are socially accepted as masculine. Namely, anger. It's not dramatic to do any of this, is it?

He calls listening to love ballads "gay . . ." oh, and he uses the same insult for Stolas . . . you know . . . trying to talk about emotions with him. So, for better or worse (worse- this is a bad thing), he's pretty deeply entrenched in society's expectations of masculinity. Or anyway, he performs it more convincingly than Stolas does. Well enough, it seems, to convince some viewers that he's 1) just an asshole with no depth and/or 2) just a chill and badass regular dude man.

But here's the kicker. NEITHER of these characters are wrong for having emotions and expressing them. It's a good thing actually.

In the world of the show, expression heals. Singing helps Stolas process the changes in his life. His decision to tell Blitz how he feels WILL ultimately help them both with their character development. Blitz ends up happier than he's been in a long time and manages to repair a friendship after 15 years apart once he explains his emotional experience to Fizz and cries. Accepting some emotions other than anger in Apology Tour (even if he's far from finished processing them) enables Blitz to grow profoundly as a person.

This blog is in favor of being dramatic.

[srgntjamesbuckybarnes]

The List (1)

Summary: When a hit list spreads around New York, Bucky’s ex-wife is the only one with any information.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Mafia Bucky Barnes x Ex-Wife Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Not Beta’d. I was going to conclude this with an actual ending, but it was getting long so I’ll let the readers decide how it ends. If enough people are interested, I might do a part 2. Comment if you want a part 2.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Rumors spread through the underground of New York like the plague. Four murders of New York's most elite in the past 72 hours. Floating around the city was a list of names, a hit list for anyone involved with the mafia. Bucky was no stranger to a threat on his life. Being a mob boss, he constantly walked a thin line, a trapeze artist always one slip away from falling into the hands of death. Bucky had the resources and power to not be taken out so easily. If his name was on the list, he’d be toward the end, but no one knew home long the list was or who was on it. His team had spent the past 3 days searching the city for any information on the list. He had to know who was on it.

“Mr. Barnes, sir,” Peter Parker stammered, catching his breath in the doorway. Peter was a prospect, a good kid with a good head on his shoulders. Bucky couldn't understand why such a gifted kid was so eager to join the mob. Regardless, Bucky couldn’t be happier to have such potential, but the kid picked the wrong time to join them. “We have a lead.”

Bucky’s head snapped up from his desk. He had been engrossed in his own research on his laptop that he had forgotten about his men’s quest. Peter’s spine went rigid under the mob boss’s intense stare. He had yet to get used to it. Peter was certain that was why Bucky’s right-hand man, Steve Rogers, had sent him to retrieve Bucky. Well, that or it was part of Sam Wilson’s attempt at a joke to haze the new guy. Either way, Peter had been a fan of Steve growing up. Steve usually was the face while Bucky worked in the shadows, which only made Bucky more intimidating to Peter. He respected Steve though which is why he found Bucky without hesitation.

“Follow me, sir.”

Standing abruptly, the chair Bucky had been sitting in crashed into the wall behind him with a loud bang. He smoothed his rough palms down the front of his pristine white shirt before straightening his black suit jacket. Without a word, he extended his hand behind Peter, encouraging him to lead the way.

Peter anxiously peered over his shoulder the entire way down the hall. He thought he might have been walking too fast, but Bucky’s pace never faltered. Bucky was hot on his heels, always one step behind him. Stopping unexpectedly outside of the boardroom, Bucky hissed nearly crashing into the teen. Before Bucky could reprimand him, Peter explained, “Before we go inside, Steve told me to give you a message.” Bucky’s shoulders relaxed a bit leaving Peter relieved his boss wasn’t going to chew him out. Still, his own dress shirt began to cling to him with the amount of sweat he was producing. Bucky may have relaxed a bit, but his posture was always disciplined, predatory, and intimidating.

“Spill it out,” Bucky huffed, his hands resting in the pockets of his slacks.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Peter nodded, “Right, um- He said don’t do anything stupid and that we need her.”

The jaw of the boss twitched before he stormed past a confused Peter. His hands pressed into each of the double doors using his full force to slam the doors wide open. All eyes snapped to Bucky as he strode into the room, confidence and determination oozing off of him. Peter ushered in behind him, awkwardly failing to close the doors several times before succeeding. A string of apologies escaped his lips as he stepped further into the room. The serious look Steve shot Peter had him clearing his throat and adjusting his dress coat.

Sam and Steve stood side by side on one end of the room, their arms crossed. They were cautious, guarded rightfully so. Any one of their lives could be on the line. For all they knew, everyone in the room was on the hit list. Spying the woman sitting at the middle of the conference table, Bucky stalked across from her. With his eyes trained on the floor, he dragged the chair away from the table but made no move to sit down as he stepped up to the table.

When his eyes met hers, he puffed out his chest. His arms remained at his sides, his hands burrowing in his pockets. Without so much as a greeting, Bucky began his interrogation, “Who created the hit list.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, a frown etched on her crimson-painted lips. “Right down to business, huh Buck?” A smirk replaced her frown. “I should’ve known, you never were one for much foreplay.”

Bucky pressed his tongue to his cheek. He had expected this, her teasing. It was always a dance between them, one he wanted to avoid by cutting to the chase. She always knew how to rile him up, in more ways than one.

“Princess-”

‘No,” she stopped him with her hand raised, “you don’t get to call me that anymore.”

Bucky snorted, leaning forward, “Isn’t that what you are now?”

“Who is she?” Peter attempted to whisper to Steve, but everyone heard him.

Taking pity on the clueless teen, Sam answered, “She’s Bucky’s ex-wife, Y/N.”

Ignoring the other men, Y/N flashed her diamond engagement ring at Bucky. The light reflected off of the ring making it impossible to miss even from where Steve, Sam, and Peter had been standing.

“That title is pending, followed by queen,” she sassed.

It started out as a term of endearment. Y/N always had a taste for the finer things in life, Bucky’s lifestyle satisfied that craving. He enjoyed spoiling his princess, but that was all she would be. A princess, someone no one would take seriously. It had been an ironic twist of fate that she had met an actual prince after her divorce from Bucky.

Examining the rock on her finger, her signature red nail had been replaced by a nude shade. She was no longer accepting his blood money; she had a good man and clean money now. His eyes traveled back to her face, zeroing in on her red-painted lip. Her hands may be clean now, but her lips were still tainted. The secrets she could talk about his business alone could ruin him which reminded him of why she was here in the first place.

“Who created the hit list, Y/N,” he tried once again to control the conversation.

Pursing her lips, she let him.

“I don’t know,” her gaze dropped to the table, “but I know who has it.”

Finally getting somewhere, Bucky reached back pulling the chair behind him. Once he was seated, he snapped his fingers. Not a moment later, a pen and paper were placed in front of him.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, pen in hand.

Y/N raised her head, the man twirled a pen between his fingers tempting her to sign a deal with the devil. Shaking the image from her head she placed her hand over his, ceasing his movements.

“It’s not that easy. He won't meet with just anyone.”

“He?” Steve asked.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Bucky isn’t just anyone,” Sam called out.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “He may very well be suspect number one. It would be bad for anyone to meet with Bucky alone.” Feeling Bucky’s hand turn beneath her own she went to pull away, but he grabbed her hand.

“What about a future queen?”

Eyeing him beneath her lashes, Y/N pulled her hand back to her chest. Noticing the hesitant look on her face, Bucky leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t a fool to think she was here willingly. She wanted something; she needed something.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Bucky asked, “What do you want?”

Thumbing the ring on her finger, she contemplated lying. She didn’t want to need Bucky, but she did. One look at Bucky and she knew he would see through any lie she would come up with, so she told the truth, “I need protection.” Suddenly she felt exposed with everyone's eyes on her. “If my name is on the list,” her voice shook. She wasn’t Bucky’s dirty little secret. People knew she was his wife, well ex-wife. She had ties to the mob and if her name was on the list or if her fiancé found out, the engagement would be called off.

After a long pause, Bucky spoke, “Get me access to the list and let me worry about the rest.”

Relief flooded Y/N. He could have turned her away. He could have blackmailed the information out of her, but he didn’t. Bucky was a rough man, but he was also kind. She had seen it first-hand for many years. Guilt ate away at her for her earlier actions. He knew she had been engaged but she didn’t need to rub it in his face. She wanted to hurt him but only because he had hurt her. A small part of her hoped he would protect her not because he was kind but because he still loved her.

Y/N was able to request a meeting with the man not even 24 hours later. His assistant had sent her an invitation, but it wasn’t for what she had been expecting. Instead, the man had invited her to a gala. He was a businessman after all, and her appearance would be good for business. At a time when she should be laying low, she was about to attend a high-press event.

It wasn’t long after Bucky was notified that he insisted he escort her. Y/N protested but he had argued that he couldn’t protect her if she was dead. That had convinced her, on one condition, they arrive separately. She was still engaged.

The event was beautiful but high glass windows had Y/N on edge. Anyone could see her. She tried to distract herself by searching for the host. There were so many bodies and no sign of the man who had invited her. In the middle of her search, a hand circled her wrist tugging her in the opposite direction. Y/N began clawing at the man’s wrist, an attempt to pry him off. When he stopped and spun around, she crashed into his chest. With her face in his chest, the unmistakable scent of expensive cologne hit her. She shoved his chest putting enough distance between the two.

“Bucky,” Y/N hissed, “you’re supposed to be laying low.”

Surveying the crowd, Bucky muttered, “I am. It’s you who is running all over the damn place.”

Y/N shook her head glaring at him. Not only did he smell good, but he looked good too. He had shaved since she had last seen him. He had traded in his white dress shirt for a black one, forgoing a bow or tie. The top button of his shirt was open, relieving his collarbone. Instead of drooling over her ex-husband she continued to glare at him. It was easier to hate him than to pine over him.

“If someone takes pictures of us together and my fiancé finds out-”

His cerulean eyes shot down to meet her eyes, “Where is he anyway? Shouldn’t you be asking him for protection? Surely, he has the resources.”

Y/N froze, her hands clutching the sides of her silk gown. “He doesn’t know,” she mumbled, then her voice grew. “He doesn’t know about the list, my past, or about you.” Bucky’s eyes softened. He had his doubts before, but he was certain now that she wasn’t happy. He wanted to gloat, to rub it in her fiancé’s face. He knew Y/N better than her fiancé did, and even better, she wanted to tell him. Bucky wanted to make a joke about how keeping secrets in a relationship was unhealthy, but he kept his mouth shut. Y/N sighed, running her hands down her dress to smooth out the wrinkles she had created. “He’s out of the country right now.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she wrapped her arms around herself. His gaze dropped to the floor, but Bucky’s remained on her.

He recognized a lonely soul when he saw one because he was one himself. His lifestyle left few people he could trust. He hadn’t always been lonely though, and neither had she. Bucky’s hand twitched to reach out and hug her, but he didn’t think she would appreciate that with cameras around. He took in her appearance and couldn’t help the squeeze he felt in his heart.

“You look beautiful.”

A giggle escaped her lips, “Thanks, Buck. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He had meant to cheer her up, but her giggle was unexpected. He missed it, he missed her. Everyone he knew in the mob lifestyle had died in the mob. It was poetic in a live by the sword, die by the sword type of way. No one got out, but she did. With his status, he’d never get out and a selfish part of him wanted to pull her right back in.

“You got out, you got away from the life,” Bucky hummed, admiration in his voice, respect.

Y/N shook her head. “No, I just got away from you.”

It was his turn to laugh, “Now if that were true, I wouldn’t be standing here with you.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. I am standing here with you, not you are standing here with me. He meant it. Even if she was here because of him, he was here for her, to protect her. He put her first.

“You of all people know once you’re in there’s only one way out.”

That was it for Bucky. He wasn’t pulling her back in. She never left. They might have been divorced but they had both meant it on their wedding day when they said, “Till death do us part.” Bucky’s calloused hand cupped her jaw just below her ear, pausing. She didn’t push him away. With both hands, she cradled his jaw pulling his face down to meet hers. Their lips brushed one another, slowly at first, testing the waters. Then his other hand slid up the length of her neck, sliding back to tangle his fingers in her hair. It was a dance they were all too familiar with.

The flash of a camera penetrated Y/N’s eyes beneath her closed lids and it was like pouring a bucket of cold water over her. Quickly, she pulled away shoving Bucky’s chest when his lips tried to follow her. She was fucked, royally.

“Y/N?”

Wiping her smudged lipstick, she ignored Bucky’s lingering gaze before turning to face the new voice. A woman in a blue silk dress approached the pair.

“Virginia?” Y/N asked.

The woman waved her hand in the air. “Please, call me Pepper. We spoke on the phone yesterday. Mr. Stark is ready to meet with you. Follow me.”

Without looking back, Y/N followed Pepper through the crowd. She knew Bucky would be right behind her. She would deal with him later. Right now, she needed the names on the list. Upon their arrival, Pepper exited the room, pulling the door shut behind her. On the other side of a glass desk was one of the wealthiest men in the world, Tony Stark.

“Did I interrupt something?” Tony asked eyes darting between Y/N and Bucky. “I swear there wasn’t so much tension before you two walked in.”

Y/N sent him a tight-lipped smile holding up her left hand. “I’m engaged.”

Tony shrugged, “What you do is none of my business. Besides, something like this would be published on the front page.” Y/N’s stomach dropped. “You know what they say, all press is good press.”

“Says the man with a new woman every week,” Bucky grumbled.

Tony smiled. “Precisely, I would know.”

“Mr. Stark-”

Tony loosened the bow tie around his neck. “Call me Tony.”

“Tony,” Y/N corrected, “so you know anything about a list?”

With a raised eyebrow Tony laughed, “If it’s a list you want, I suggest you talk to Pepper. She handles all of that stuff.”

“Not just any kind of list,” Y/N took a step forward, her hands clasped in front of her, “a hit list.” From this distance, Y/N couldn't miss the way Tony’s eyes shifted to Bucky.

“Are you looking to assassinate anybody?”

Bucky held up his hands, “I’m just looking to protect the people I care about.”

Y/N stood still, watching the intense stare-off between the two.

Eventually, Tony sighed, “I don’t want to be in the middle of any of this.” He tapped a few keys on the computer on his desk before turning the screen. “You better get out of here before your fiancé sends someone.”

“What?” Y/N gasped, blindly clutching Bucky’s forearm beside her. Both of their names were written in green on the list. Beneath them were some of Bucky’s most trusted men; their names written in white.

Tony leaned back in his chair. “Green means active. You’re both next on the list and judging by the number of cameras here, someone probably already knows you’re here.”

“You knew,” Bucky growled.

Tony barely flinched. “Your names weren’t active until recently. Other people’s lives are on the line. I can’t get to everyone in time.”

“Wait, why would my fiancé send someone, he’s not even in the country,” Y/N asked, trying to wrap her head around everything.

Tony frowned. “Your fiance is the one who put the hit list out. What better alibi for your significant other’s death than being out of the country at her time of death.”

Y/N would have collapsed if it wasn’t for Bucky’s quick reflexes. He wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her weight.

“Why?” Y/N whispered wide-eyed.

Bucky wanted to drag her out of the building toward safety but was there even a safe place? People already knew their location.

Tony shrugged. “The New York mobs aren't the only mobs out there. They're all over the country, they're in other countries. There are some real higher-ups in the mafia in other countries. The mafia controls everything, it's one of the most powerful positions. Take out other mobs and you can control more area, more power.”

Y/N felt sick. When she said you never get out once you get in, she hadn’t realized how deep she was in life now. Turning to Bucky, he was already on his phone typing. “Bucky, we need to go.”

“No. I text Steve, he’s rounding everyone up. They’ll be here soon.”

Tony’s eyes widened, his eyebrows reaching his forehead. “You can’t be serious. There are cameras everywhere. This will be plastered on every news station.”

Bucky shrugged, lifting the back of Y/N’s hand to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, a quiet promise to protect her. “All press is good press.”

Next Chapter

[wandagcre]

What do you think abt Sam (non g!p) has the first time with her gf and she cums first (and gets very embarrassed afterwards, cuz she didn't even need to be touched for that!)

first time | sam carpenter 🔞

(Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

Sam never understood the clichés of firsts, until you – the only one that mattered.

WARNING: make out session, fingering, first time - set in Scream universe | 18+ men & minors dni. Words: 1.1k Note: the softest smut i have written yet ahh enjoy! <3

"Fuck," Sam gasped, breathless as you were. "You feel- it's blowing my mind..." she tilts her head and slips in her tongue.

A small smile escaped your lips, knowing how the woman couldn't compose her words properly at your intense make out sessions as this. you let her in, finding her eagerness adorable. The soft rubs of your thumb on her nape only reeled Sam further to your touch. She takes off your top and the hunger in her motion made you arch your neck.

You slow down a little and Sam is tad confused but it doesn't stop her. Her own lips chased yours as you pull away and it didn't faze Sam, who continued caressing her hands onto your bare torso.

You and Sam had barely left one another enough for your lips to become numbed with the well-known dance that has been going on for minutes now. Her eyelids fluttering as she's wrapped in a dazed sensation – the rustling of your limbs against each other and touching and seeing you – has left the entirety of Sam scorching hot.

"Baby, baby," you moan in muted tone. The pit of fire in Sam’s stomach continues to burn, although she finally looks at you in concern.

"Are you okay? we can stop anytime,"

The tenderness is palpable on her doe eyes. You can't resist but run a finger softly on those hooded eyelids.

"Funny how i was going to ask you the same thing. You beat me to it," you say with a crooked smile. Your hands loosely wrapped around her waist and somehow, Sam’s body reacted too enthusiastically, and it made her hips buck onto your front. "Someone's excited."

"I can't help it, you know that too well, querida..."

"And I can definitely attest to that." An inevitable grin breaks out of Sam’s pretty face. It's so easy with you. "I’m all in, baby."

"I am, too. all in. I love you," Sam murmured as if she was in a daydream, stroking your cheek.

Sam drinks the appearance that beholds her. Your skin so soft and delectable, that she failed to keep her hands off you. The creases in your face with your gentle smile. Your soul that welcomed her without a hint of prejudice; paired with your eyes that relayed nothing but acceptance and love.

How Sam got lucky with you is lost on her.

Sam pulled you in once again, the softness gritting into a deplore of conviction; wanting to express how much you mean to her – cheesily enough, you are her world now.

Unfortunately, it also meant she had grown ridiculously damp. a stretch of her lower limb would make it seep much worse. She feels the electric coursing through her veins, prickling soundly onto her sensitive areas. She feels bare and vulnerable in all forms, you didn't even have to touch her that much for her to come undone.

It was mind blowing how Sam haven't thirsted this much to her previous partners before. Even with your limbs intertwined and skins grazing upon another, it simply wasn't enough. Sam is constantly chasing for more.

"I want to have you first," you breathed softly on Sam’s ears to her surprise, making her temperature rise even more. "Please, let go for me, Sammy. I promise to take care of you."

You look at her with glossy eyes, filled with devotion. How can Sam ever say no to you?

She nods with no reluctance to your glee. Oh god, this is happening. Sam feels your fingertips along her abdomen, touch so incandescent, that it made her muscles contract, as it makes its way further down to your goal.

When the heel of your palm laid on her lower stomach, fingers stretching in to go underneath her underwear, Sam felt herself vividly ooze a palpable amount of wetness that made her heave out of breath – thigh muscles spasming that she can barely move.

She rasped a moan as she laid her forehead on your shoulder.

"Are you okay, Sammy?" your eyes went wide in concern.

She weakly laughed. "Yeah, yes. Shit i think– this is unreal. I just came. I surely just felt it," she retracts her hold around you to cover her face in embarrassment. "Now I feel ridiculous. that- that wasn't supposed to happen,"

You looked at Sam bewildered at the news she had dropped.

"Baby, no, no. look at me," you shook her by the shoulder gently and cradled her face. "That's nothing to be shy of. If anything, I’m happy to make something as sex not only pleasurable by means of aggressive throes of lust, but comfortably mind-blowing to you."

It took a while for your words to sink in for Sam. She bit her lip, nodding in agreement. Sam looks at you straight in the eye. All she saw was comfort. Safety. Love. All of which resounded strongly when it comes to you. Slowly, the feel of embarrassment ebb out of her system.

This wasn’t a quick fuck, nor a casual thing. You weren’t cheeky and condescending as the other men she had encountered.

Sam felt like she mattered for once – as though she wasn’t a meat or a conquest.

The thought wasn’t lost on you as Sam looked at you in wonder and it breaks your heart. You decide to grasp her hand and place gentle kisses on her knuckles. The same hands that have gone through unimaginable violence, yet it’s gentle and slightly trembling in your hold.

"Thank you, mi querida."

The kissing resumed as your fingers also continued making its way to the depths of Sam’s crevice. The pad of your fingers that she ushered for you to rub harder had sent her on the edge. The soft gasps of excitement and pleasure, Sam couldn't take it.

Every touch had her entirety reeling, as though you had her absolved all her sins. Nothing else mattered.

"Listen to me, you're doing great. You look... beautiful."

Albeit it came rarely, Sam was somewhat desensitized to praises. But yours were raw and innocent. Sam feels her heart thumping louder than ever.

"Always a charmer,"

From there, she cants her pelvis closer to you, rocking her hips to the newfound rhythm – riding your fingers. All Sam can think about was your name. She met your thrusts and each time, you never failed to give her praise. I love you, I love you, I love you -- you confess, akin to worshipping a deity. The open mouthed kisses on her sternum and chest that you spread all over her, has made Sam's head spin. You simply understood how vulnerable and hard it was for the woman to let go. Sam swore she felt heaven – it made her surrender all her strength completely under your touch. She has never known a safer place as yours.

Wet enough she was, and this time both of you couldn't hold back your smiles, complemented by neediness, as you make love for the first time.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[arimiadev]

spooky indie visual novels you've never heard of for spooky season

since it's October I thought I'd put together a list of spooky indie visual novels (horror, Halloween, creepy, dark comedy, anything in the spirit of the season goes) that you've probably never heard of but can play right now on itchio!

model employee

Model Employee is a corporate horror visual novel. Just discharged from the hospital and massively in debt for their life-saving cybernetics, the player-character must adapt to the “extreme” work-life balance of a Tethys Team Member- but they have help. Penny, the artificial personality that controls all security, waste disposal, and employee surveillance in the facility, specializes in reinforcing an especially cutthroat variety  of workplace culture- and she’s taken an interest in you.  If you want to get ahead in your career, you gotta be willing to take some risks.

model employee is such a tightly structured visual novel for being made in just one month for a game jam, making full use of everything while surprising you at every corner. every part of this game was so well planned and thought out- dystopian corporate satire isn’t my cup of tea (we’re living it) but the way they present everything in this game makes it feel so much more intense.

beary the hatchet

It’s Halloween 199X, and you killed someone during your morning shift. Honestly it’s inconvenient. This job was imperfect, sure, but you got to wear a mask with no questions asked and the pay was livable. But now you’ll have to keep the body in the backrooms till your shift is done. Bummer. “You’re… the absolutely WICKED and AWESOME Bearwater Grizzly Killer, aren’t you?!” …and now enters the dreaded true crime fan.

beary the hatchet is such a uniquely lovely game to look at, even if the subject matter is grim. I love the color palette and tones in this, I love the 2.5D graphics, I love how expressive all of the designs are. it’s a game oozing with style.

WE KNOW THE DEVIL

Anyone can kill the devil; that’s why they always make teens the vampire slayers, the magical girls. But some kids can’t even get that right; and that’s why meangirl Neptune, tomboy Jupiter, and shy shy Venus have to endure one more week of summer camp and each other, singing boring songs about jesus, doing busywork for adults, and hoping god’s radio can’t hear them. Before they can leave the summer scouts, they’ve got to spend twelve hours in the loneliest cabin in the woods and wait for the devil to come and live through the night–or not. You know.

it’s a visceral experience, something that feels foreign and familiar at the same time. I love the direction for it, the sketchy monochrome sprites against the colored photos- parts when there aren’t any characters on screen feel that much more real, like you’re watching found footage because of how tense everything is.

disconnect

Late at night, a phone call from a friend keeps disconnecting from you… On and off, on and off, constantly… …What would you do if you realized your friend wasn’t who you thought they were? And how would you react when the truth was finally revealed? (“̷̢̑W̸̨̊o̸̫͊u̷̱͝ḽ̸͛d̴͉̐ ̵̚ͅy̵̜̽o̸̥͗u̷̮̎ ̷̜̏s̶̤̄t̸̥͐i̴̻̕l̸̰͝l̸͉̓ ̷͕́ȁ̸̩c̸̡̓t̵̜̊ ̵͓̈t̶̙̄h̶̦͂e̸̩͠ ̸̩̅s̶̘̏a̷̪͛m̵̮͒e̴͖͑ ̸̭́w̷̨̚á̴̱y̵̯̑?̶͎̌"̷͈̆) Find out what happened to our scaredy-cat protagonist, Indie－a famous horror storyteller on the H-T-M (Horror, Tales, and Mystery) forum. What would she do when she unintentionally uncovered a mystery hidden deep within her own home?

I love the style of disconnect and the unorthodox way of getting to the truth of the matter. I’m not normally one to play furry VNs, but the designs are adorable and I love the presentation of the game, it has a lot of animation in it. there’s also one moment not too far in on this screen that made me scream…

curse of the juniper tree

Curse of the Juniper tree is a tale of two siblings, a cursed tree and an isolated village. It is a short kinetic visual novel featuring 2d exploration. Walk around the snowy village and talk to its inhabitants! Story is loosely based off the fairytale called The Juniper Tree by the Brothers Grimm in Grimm’s Fairy Tales in 1812.

this is a lovely and short story about two siblings living in a frozen land together. it’s a very atmospheric story with so many beautiful blues and detailed character designs. the controls were a bit hard to figure out at times but it’s worth your time.

reaplaced

Grea Perrim is a reaper of souls, and it’s her duty to bring the deceased to the other side. But in the world of reapers, death isn’t any kind of equalizer. The value of a soul is directly tied to the peculiarity of its death. Grea’s supernatural senses bring her to a Halloween house party with three costumed guests. She soon finds the most valuable kind of soul: the victim of a locked-room murder. In order to reap the soul, Grea must unravel the identity of its killer and explain its death in full. Is this the work of a human? A witch? Or something else entirely…?

reaplaced is a fun little whodunnit set on Halloween about a grim reaper out on the hunt who finds herself in the middle of a murder mystery. it’s much more indepth than I was expecting and the soundtrack is wonderful—there’s a lot of small touches to it that make it great.

Silver Thread

An exorcist that doubts the existence of ghost might sound contradictory but to Alicia Wilkershire, this is the right way to get closer to the truth. Her latest job sounded like another run-of-the-mill case and she greeted her client with her usual pessimism but is it, really?

Silver Thread is a spooky and short RPGM game about a skeptical exorcist trying to help a guy with his problems. the style is lovely and if you also like this kind of style, the developer has several other RPGM games like this!

Elevator Hitch

Elevator Hitchis a short 2.5D surreal horror/escape room visual novel with point-and-click and puzzle elements following the story of two co-workers suddenly finding themselves stuck together in a "Perfectly Normal" 70s office elevator.  They must explore each liminal-looking floor and find a way to get off the elevator to their actual destinations.

like a few others on this list, Elevator Hitch was made in just a month for the Spooktober Visual Novel Jam and was my favorite game from the year it came out (2022). it's more of an adventure style game than pure visual novel, so expect puzzles and a lot of bad ends! this developer also has a lot of other similar style adventure visual novels.

The Case of the Serialized Killer

When a popular illustrator is found dead, disgraced demonologist Harold Ludicael is hired to summon her ghost. Ghosts are the one thing he can't summon, but with sharp insight, perhaps he can solve the mystery, and resurrect the most important thing: His career.

this visual novel is an absolute feast on the eyes as all of the art is done by traditionally painted watercolor artworks! the characters are all unique and the world feels very lived in. if you like murder mysteries then check it out.

Stillwater

"𝕊𝕖𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕥 𝕒 𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕖…" A woman arrives with a mysterious letter in hand addressed to her grandfather. Etched in crimson is a foreboding message, a warning—a promise made from a time forgotten. Private Investigator Hugo Laurent and his assistants must solve this bizarre case before an old family's curse befalls them all.

Stillwater is a lovely looking game - I love everything about the art direction for it. it's not overly scary but very atmospheric with several endings to find.

Who is the Red Queen?

Alice falls down the rabbit hole into a Wonderland not quite right. Meeting an eclectic collection of people, animals, and some things in between, she sets out on an adventure in this odd new place to find the missing Red Queen. Or, more specifically, to find the pieces of the dismembered queen whose body has been strewn across the land.

a familiar but new take on Alice in Wonderland, now with a lot more yuri. like a lot of the VNs I've recommended, this was originally made in just 1 month. this one in particular has a lot of dead ends, mention of gore & dismemberment, and other content warnings.

okay now that you've made it this far I'm going to promote my gay horror / Halloween visual novels

Asphodelium

Hazel is an ex-adventurer who's settled down with some of his previous guildmates after the adventure of a lifetime—taking down a doomsday cult that tried to end the world, but at the cost of killing their former guild leader who turned against them. Despite their adventure still haunting him months later, he's tried to move on. —That is until a man with the same face as their guild leader approaches him. This is a story about cults and killing and killing cults. And being in love.

Asphodelium is a melancholic dark boys love visual novel that I made solo in about 3 months. it's entirely in NVL mode (I love you NVL) and around 3 hours long and my personal favorite game I've made so far.

Dahlia

a vampire has snuck into your room while you were sleeping. the only question is - are you next on her menu? Dahlia is a very short sapphic visual novel made in under 36 hours for the Velox Formido game jam, a jam for shortform visual novels. survive being trapped with a lovely little vampire, or don't.

also NVL mode because I love NVL mode. this is a short and sweet vampire visual novel I made solo in a weekend for a game jam that has several different endings.

Witch You Want

With a rather sparkly magical paper, you find a job listing for a local witch needing an assistant with making potions before the town festival that weekend. You sign up, unsure exactly what to expect...... A pompous and questionably excellent witch runs a local apothecary in town but finds that if she wants to make enough potions before the festival that weekend to sell (and keep her ongoing potion shop afloat) she'll need some assistance. After a dubious help wanted ad, she gains you as an assistant. Will the two of you see through to the festival? Will you be able to make a single potion? Will this girlfailure capture your heart?!

this is my latest visual novel that released just a few days ago! I directed & programmed this short cutesy game for a game jam at our studio. it's pretty fluffy romcom with a potion minigame in it. please help our girlfailure make potions, she needs all the help she can get.

[bitchiswild]

Distracted | Purinz

G!P Yunjin x G!P Chaewon x F! Reader Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: threesome,face fucking, cream pie, etc. A/n: First time writing a threesome tell me how it is😊 REQUESTED

"Y/n, can you please pay attention? I'm not enjoying this any more than you are, but we really need to finish this," Yunjin said, annoyed, glancing up from her laptop to see you squirming in your seat.

"Yeah, Y/n, listen to the nerd. Let's just get this over with," Chaewon added with a scoff, her arms crossed as she slouched in her chair with her legs spread out.

Your head snapped towards them with a glare, muttering under your breath in frustration as you turned your attention back to your part of the project. The three of you were gathered at Chaewon's house to work on the project together. You and Chaewon had never gotten along. Ever since your mutual friend/ teammate Kazuha introduced you to her, the popular girl, and you, the captain of the soccer (football) team, there had been tension. The two of you constantly got on each other's nerves.

Yunjin, on the other hand, was a different story. She was practically a loner, not having many friends and always focusing on her studies. She was what some might call a "nerd," always engrossed in nerdy activities.

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere in Chaewon's living room grew increasingly tense. Despite the shared goal of completing the project, the underlying animosity between you and Chaewon continued to simmer beneath the surface.

Yunjin, sensing the growing tension, tried to mediate. "Alright, guys, let's try to focus and work together," she said, attempting to steer the conversation back to the task at hand.

But Chaewon couldn't resist taking a jab at you. "Yeah, Y/n, try not to mess this up like you always do on the field," she remarked with a smirk.

Your temper flared, and you shot back, "At least I contribute something other than empty popularity."

Yunjin sighed, recognizing the futility of trying to defuse the situation. She returned to her laptop, quietly typing away, determined to finish her portion of the project despite the brewing conflict.

The tension between you and Chaewon escalated with every passing moment. Each word exchanged felt like a verbal jab, intensifying the animosity that had long simmered between you.

In a moment of frustration, Chaewon leaned in closer, her voice dripping with disdain. "You know, Y/n, maybe if you focused less on sports and more on actually using your brain, you wouldn't always be at the bottom of the class," she sneered.

Your jaw clenched as you fought to maintain your composure, but the comment struck a nerve. "And maybe if you weren't so obsessed with being the center of attention, you'd realize there's more to life than popularity," you retorted, your tone sharp with anger.

The room fell silent for a tense moment, the air thick with unresolved tension. But then, unexpectedly, Chaewon's expression shifted, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes.

"You know, Y/n," she said, her voice lowering to a husky whisper, "for someone who talks a big game, you sure seem to have a lot of pent-up frustration."

Your heart skipped a beat as her words hung in the air, the tension between you suddenly taking on a different, more charged quality. It was as if a switch had been flipped, the animosity giving way to something altogether more primal.

Caught off guard by the sudden shift in dynamics, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from Chaewon's, the air crackling with an unspoken challenge.

Yunjin glanced up from her laptop, startled by the sudden change in atmosphere. Her eyes widened as she watched Chaewon saunter towards you with deliberate steps, her movements oozing confidence and a hint of something darker. It was as if Chaewon had transformed into a predator, and you were her unsuspecting prey.

Chaewon's gaze bore into yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. There was a raw hunger in her eyes, a desire that seemed to consume her entirely. It was a look you had never seen from her before, one that stirred something primal within you despite the lingering tension between you.

As she drew closer, the air between you crackled with anticipation, thick with unspoken desire. Your heart raced in your chest, torn between the instinct to flee and the inexplicable pull drawing you closer to her.

Yunjin watched in silence, her expression unreadable as she observed the electric exchange unfolding before her. It was as if time itself had slowed to a crawl, the world narrowing down to the charged space between you and Chaewon, where every breath, every heartbeat seemed to echo with the promise of something forbidden.

As Chaewon closed the distance between you, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. And then, in a low, husky voice that sent shivers down your spine, she uttered words that made your heart skip a beat.

"You know, Y/n," she murmured, her voice dripping with seduction, "I've always wondered what it would feel like to have you beneath me, begging for more."

Your breath caught in your throat at her brazen words, your mind reeling with a heady mix of desire and disbelief. Before you could form a coherent response, Chaewon closed the remaining distance between you, her lips crashing against yours in a fervent kiss that ignited a firestorm of passion within you.

In that moment, everything else faded away as you surrendered to the intoxicating sensation of Chaewon's lips moving against yours with a hunger that matched your own. It was a kiss filled with longing, with pent-up desire that had been simmering between you for far too long.

Caught up in the heat of the moment, you melted into Chaewon's embrace, your hands tangling in her hair as you lost yourself in the overwhelming rush of sensation. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a silent confession of all the unspoken desires that had lingered between you, finally finding release in the electrifying connection you shared.

As Yunjin sat there, her face flushed at the scene unfolding before her, she couldn't help but stutter out, "I-I think I should leave..."

But her words were drowned out by your escalating moans, the intensity of the moment overpowering any attempts at rational thought.

Chaewon, her voice husky with desire, murmured against your ear, "Do you like that, Y/n? Do you want more?"

You could only manage a breathless nod in response as Chaewon continued to grope and tease, her touch igniting flames of pleasure within you.

"Tell me what you want," Chaewon whispered, her lips brushing against yours in a teasing caress.

"I want..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, "I want you..."

And with that confession, Chaewon's hunger reached its peak. Without hesitation, she pulled you into a searing kiss, her hands roaming freely over your body as she eagerly explored every inch of your desire. The sound of your moans mingled with the rhythm of your pounding hearts, filling the room with a symphony of passion as you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating pleasure of the moment.

The room was charged with tension as Yunjin remained frozen in her seat, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene unfolding before her. Your moans, growing increasingly desperate, echoed through the room, sending a shiver down her spine.

Unable to resist the overwhelming arousal building within her, Yunjin's hand drifted down to cup her hardening cock, whimpering softly at the electrifying sensitivity that coursed through her body.

Your head snapped towards Yunjin at the sound of her whimper, and you caught Chaewon's eye as she began to kiss down your neck. "Chaewon," you sighed out, your voice a breathless plea, "Nerd over there wants some action."

Chaewon detached herself from your neck, her gaze flickering to Yunjin's flushed face with a wicked smirk. "Aw, is the nerd getting turned on by watching two girls kiss?" she teased, her voice dripping with amusement.

Feeling emboldened by Chaewon's taunt, you crawled over to where Yunjin sat, guided by Chaewon's nod. "Tease her a little, Y/n," Chaewon instructed, her voice low and seductive.

You obeyed, brushing your fingers teasingly against Yunjin's face before trailing them down her body, eliciting a shuddered breath and a whimper from her. Your hand found its way to Yunjin's hardened bulge, and you began to rub it gently, feeling her tremble beneath your touch as desire surged through her.

Yunjin's breath hitched as she succumbed to the intoxicating sensation, her body responding eagerly to your teasing caresses. The air crackled with anticipation as you continued to explore Yunjin's desires, guided by Chaewon's wicked gaze and the heady rush of arousal that enveloped you all.

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you continued to rub Yunjin's clothed cock, feeling it throb beneath your touch. Looking up at her with a daring smirk, you whispered, "Take off your pants, let me suck you off, nerd."

Yunjin wasted no time in complying, eagerly pushing down her pants and underwear in one swift motion. Your eyes widened at the sight of her exposed cock, a rush of excitement coursing through you as you took in its size.

"Who knew the nerd had such a pretty big cock," you remarked with a playful smirk, your voice filled with admiration.

Without hesitation, you leaned forward, your lips capturing Yunjin's throbbing member as you began to lavish it with attention. Your hand joined in, providing additional stimulation as you worked her with fervor, determined to bring her to the brink of pleasure.

Yunjin's moans filled the room, mingling with the sounds of your slurping as pleasure coursed through her. Lost in the intoxicating sensation, she surrendered herself to the pleasure of your touch, her body quivering with anticipation of the release that awaited her.

Your tongue explored every inch of her length, while your lips tightened around her shaft, creating a delicious friction that sent waves of pleasure through her.

Yunjin's hips bucked involuntarily, her hands gripping your hair as she surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. Her moans grew louder and more urgent, filling the room with desire and urging you on.

As you continued to pleasure Yunjin, your mouth occupied with sucking and stroking her cock, Chaewon's actions caught you off guard. With a wicked grin, she swiftly whipped out her own cock and began to tug your shorts and panties down, exposing your needy core to the cool air.

"Looks like someone's eager to join in on the fun," Chaewon purred, her voice dripping with lust as she eyed your exposed body hungrily.

You moaned around Yunjin's cock, the sensation of Chaewon's hands on you sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. "Oh, fuck, Chaewon," you gasped, your voice laced with desire, "don't stop."

Chaewon chuckled darkly as she teased your throbbing clit with her fingers, her touch sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body. "You're such a needy slut, Y/n," she taunted, her voice low and seductive, "but I love it."

Your breath hitched as Chaewon's fingers dipped lower, teasingly circling your entrance before sliding inside you with ease. "Fuck, Chaewon," you moaned, your words barely coherent as pleasure washed over you in waves.

Meanwhile, Yunjin watched with rapt attention, her own arousal evident as she enjoyed the show unfolding before her. The air crackled with anticipation as the three of you indulged in the forbidden pleasure, lost in the intoxicating haze of desire.

As Chaewon continued to tease and taunt you, her fingers danced along the slick folds of your entrance, eliciting a low whimper of anticipation from you. With a devilish grin, she guided the tip of her cock to your dripping entrance, teasingly rubbing it against your slick folds.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sensation, your body trembling with need as Chaewon teased you mercilessly. "Come on, Y/n," she teased, her voice dripping with desire, "you know you want it."

You moaned in response, your hips instinctively bucking towards her, desperate for more. "Please," you whimpered, your voice pleading, "don't tease me like this."

But Chaewon only chuckled darkly, her eyes glinting with mischief as she continued to tease your entrance with the tip of her cock. "You're such a slut, Y/n," she murmured, her voice a husky whisper, "begging for it like this."

The sensation was almost too much to bear, your body trembling with need as you yearned for her to fill you completely. With a final, torturous tease, Chaewon relented, pushing her cock slowly into you, inch by agonizing inch, until you were filled to the brim with her.

As Chaewon teased and tantalized you with her cock, Yunjin couldn't help but be drawn into the electrifying scene unfolding before her. Her breath quickened as she watched, her own arousal mounting with each passing moment.

With a seductive smirk, Chaewon glanced over at Yunjin, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Why don't you join in, Yunjin?" she purred, her voice filled with desire. "I'm sure Y/n wouldn't mind having both of us to play with."

Yunjin's cheeks flushed with excitement as she nodded eagerly, her hands trembling as she pushed you off with anticipation as she reached out to join in the erotic encounter. With trembling fingers, she began to stroke her own cock, mirroring the rhythm of Chaewon's movements as she teased you with her own.

You gasped in pleasure as Yunjin's hands joined in, the sensation of being pleasured by both of them driving you to new heights of ecstasy. Your body trembled with pleasure as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming sensations, lost in the intoxicating haze of desire.

The room was filled with the sound of your moans and gasps, mingling with the slick sounds of flesh slapping against eachother as the three of you indulged in the forbidden pleasure. With each passing moment, the intensity of your arousal grew, driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

As the pleasure mounted, you could feel yourself teetering on the brink of release, the tantalizing touch of Chaewon and Yunjin pushing you over the edge into blissful oblivion. With a final, ecstatic cry, you succumbed to the overwhelming waves of pleasure, your body convulsing with ecstasy as you reached the pinnacle of pleasure.

Chaewon pounded into you, driving you to new heights of pleasure, Yunjin seized the opportunity to indulge in her own desires. With a hunger in her eyes, she reclaimed your mouth, her lips crashing against yours in a passionate kiss.

You moaned into the kiss, your body responding eagerly to her touch as she deepened the kiss, exploring every inch of your mouth with a fervor that left you breathless. Meanwhile, Chaewon's relentless thrusts sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, driving you to the brink of ecstasy.

With a wicked grin, Yunjin broke the kiss, her eyes glinting with mischief as she pushed you down onto the bed. "Open wide, Y/n," she whispered, her voice husky with desire, "I want to fuck your face."

Without hesitation, she positioned herself above you, her cock poised at your lips as she thrust forward, forcing you to take her into your mouth once again. You eagerly complied, sucking and stroking her with enthusiasm as she face-fucked you with a relentless rhythm.

The sensation was overwhelming, the dual stimulation of Chaewon's thrusts and Yunjin's cock driving you to new heights of pleasure. You moaned around Yunjin's cock, the vibrations sending shivers of ecstasy coursing through her as she drove herself deeper into your mouth.

Lost in the intoxicating haze of pleasure, you surrendered yourself completely to the overwhelming sensations, your body trembling with desire as you were consumed by the ecstasy of the moment. With each passing moment, the intensity of your arousal grew, driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Chaewon continued to thrust into you with unrelenting fervor, the intensity of her movements driving you to the brink of ecstasy, you felt her body tense with impending release. With a sharp cry of pleasure, Chaewon reached her peak, her hips bucking wildly as she spilled her seed deep inside you.

"Fuck, Y/n, you feel so fucking good," Chaewon gasped, her voice filled with ecstasy as she emptied herself into you. "You like that, huh? You like taking my cock deep inside you."

You gasped in pleasure as you felt her hot release filling you, waves of pleasure washing over you as she emptied herself into you completely. "God, yes," you muttered against Yunjins cock, your voice filled with need. "I love it, Chaewon. I love feeling you inside me."

With one final, powerful thrust, Chaewon collapsed against you, spent from the intensity of her climax. "Fuck," she breathed, her voice husky with satisfaction.

Feeling Chaewon's release triggered your own, you cried out in pleasure, your body convulsing with ecstasy as you reached the pinnacle of bliss. The sensation of her cumming inside you sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, pushing you over the edge into an explosive climax of your own.

Meanwhile, Yunjin's cock remained in your mouth, her own pleasure evident as she moaned and gasped in response to the erotic scene unfolding before her. With a wicked grin, Chaewon withdrew from you, her fingers finding their way to your needy clit as she began to rub it with expert precision.

"Look at you, Y/n," Chaewon purred, her voice dripping with desire, "so desperate for release. You're such a little slut, aren't you?"

You moaned in response, unable to form coherent words as pleasure washed over you in waves. Chaewon's fingers worked tirelessly, driving you to new heights of ecstasy as she teased and tormented your sensitive clit.

And then, with a sharp cry of release, you reached your climax once again, your body trembling with the force of your release as pleasure consumed you entirely. The room was filled with the sound of your moans and gasps, mingling with the slick sounds of flesh against flesh as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming sensations.

As you and Chaewon basked in the aftermath of your climaxes, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction, Yunjin seized the opportunity to indulge in her own pleasure. With a low, guttural moan, she reached the pinnacle of ecstasy, her body trembling with the force of her release.

Feeling Yunjin's cock throb with the intensity of her climax, you eagerly accepted her into your mouth, welcoming her cum with open lips. You moaned in delight as Yunjin spilled her seed into your waiting mouth, the taste of her release driving you wild.

With each pulse of pleasure, you eagerly drank down every drop of her cum, savoring the taste of her release as it filled your mouth. The sensation of her cum mingling with yours sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, heightening the intensity of your own pleasure.

As Yunjin's climax subsided, you swallowed her seed with a satisfied sigh, relishing the taste of her release as it lingered on your tongue. The room was filled with the sound of your satisfied moans and the slick sounds of flesh against flesh as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming sensations.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, leaving all of you spent and breathless, you collapsed together in a tangled heap on the floor, limbs entwined in a deliciously intimate embrace. The room was filled with the heavy, heady scent of sex, a tangible reminder of the passion that had consumed you all.

"Fuck, that was amazing," Chaewon exclaimed, her voice laced with satisfaction as she caught her breath. A playful laugh escaped her lips as she added, "We should definitely do this again."

You hummed in agreement, a lazy smile gracing your lips as you reveled in the shared moment of intimacy. The rush of endorphins coursing through your veins left you feeling warm and content, your body tingling with the echoes of pleasure.

Beside you, Yunjin blushed at the suggestion, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson. She couldn't bring herself to meet your gaze, but the shy smile that tugged at the corners of her lips spoke volumes.

As the three of you lay there in a blissful post-coital haze, basking in the afterglow of the unforgettable experience, a sense of camaraderie and closeness settled over you like a warm blanket. It was a moment you knew you would cherish forever, a memory that would bind you together in an unbreakable bond of shared pleasure and intimacy.

“Round 2 in my room?”

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Hi! You know that inexperienced smut prompts that you reblogged? Could I request you a smut based on them pls? It would be a Kit Walker x fem reader smut based off prompts 14, 16 and 32 if possible... thanks! :)

of course!! i worked on this all day so i hope you enjoy :)) let me know what you think!

prompts:

14. “You’ve never even touched yourself?”

16. “What do you like?” “I don’t know.” “Then how about we find out together?”

32. “Is it going to hurt?”

~~~

Love in the Darkness

Kit Walker x f!reader

warnings: smut, soft dom kit, oral female receiving, slight fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), slight mentions of murder / stalking, loss of virginity, slight innocence kink if you squint hard enough, very minor drinking, i think that’s it but as always lmk if i forgot any!!!

summary: you never thought in a million years you’d fall in love with a murderer, but here we are.

word count: 3.6k

~~~

You were remanded to Briarcliff for what the doctors called “female hysteria”. But you weren’t hysterical, not even close. All you had done to get thrown in was get into a few fights with men who wouldn’t leave you alone. Stalkers, potential rapists, followed you around, not accepting your constant rejection. It wasn’t fair that you were punished for simply not wanting to be sexually harassed, but it was never fair for women. You’d known since you were a child that being a woman in this world catered to men would be difficult, but you never imagined it would be this difficult.

After being admitted to the asylum, you lost hope in all men, and most women. All the nuns besides Sister Mary Euinice treated you awful. They constantly berated you, telling you every day that you should be a more respectful young woman, that you should be flattered by the attention you get from men. It made you sick. But what made you angrier than anything though is how they called you “unclean” as if the whole situation was your fault. In the beginning you tried to explain to them that those dirty men were the unclean ones, but all that did was make them punish you more. So, you decided not to fight them anymore and take what they dished out.

When you were admitted you knew about Bloody Face. You knew you were going to be in the same place as him. You were scared at first. You knew the rumors, heard the news of what he did to those poor women. It gave you flashbacks to when those men stalked you. You considered yourself lucky that Bloody Face had already been caught, because if it were him following you, you’d be dead.

You were certainly surprised when you saw him for the first time. It was in the common room. You were sitting on one of the couches, trying your best to read a magazine while your fellow inmates did whatever it was, they do. Bloody Face walked in and immediately your eyes were drawn to him. He was tall, with dark hair and dark eyes. You were surprised at how handsome he was. You always imagined him as a large scary looking man, but he was quite the opposite. His real name was Kit Walker. He claimed to be innocent of all charges. You avoided him as best as you could.

One day though, you were placed on kitchen duty with him. You were frightened by him at first, worried he was going to bash your head against the metal tables until your brains oozed out. But all he did was silently separate the bread dough. His stance wasn’t threatening, but to be safe you stood on the opposite side of the table, the side closer to the door.

“I know you’re afraid of me,” he said out of the blue. His accent was thick, his voice soft.

You avoided his eye contact. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“If you aren’t afraid why are your hands shaking?” He asked. “Why are you standing all the way on the other side of the table?”

“Personal space,” you mumbled your answer.

Kit chuckled quietly, and it made you finally tear your eyes away from the dough that was in your hands. Your eyes met for the first time, and your heart beat began to quicken. What if this is his tactic? You thought. What if his charm and beauty is how he captures women?

“Perhaps I am wrong, I’ve heard you were locked up for attempting to kill a few upstanding guys.”

You shook your head. “That’s not true.”

“Really? Then what’s your side of the story?” He continued. By this point both of you had stopped working on the chore and instead stared at each other. It was far more interesting than working, you had to admit.

“They were trying to… force me to do things I didn’t want to do. I barely caused any harm, but they had more money than me so here I am,” you explained vaguely. “It wasn’t my fault.”

He chuckled; it made your eyebrows raise. “See, me and you aren’t too much different. Both of us were wrongly put in here.”

“You murdered and raped three women,” you said, looking back down at your hands.

“And you brutally tried to kill those men,” he replied.

You were about to reply, but the nuns entered and started to escort the two of you back to your rooms. That was the first time that you started to believe the innocence of Kit Walker.

~~~

As time began to pass and you and Kit were paired together more for chores you were convinced little by little of his innocence. It was the small things. Like how he would hold the door open for you, apologize if while the two of you spoke anything made you uncomfortable, and most importantly how he never questioned whether you were guilty or not.

Eventually, you found yourself becoming excited whenever the two of you spent time together. Kit was sweet, he was nothing at all like the horrible newspapers and radio reports made him out to be. He wasn’t crazy. In fact, he seemed to be the sanest person in Briarcliff besides yourself. You thought it was impossible, but you began to harbor feelings for “Bloody Face” and you found out one night he felt the same way for you.

It was movie night, the two of you snuck away to talk. You made it down to the kitchen without being caught, you were glad. For some reason you knew in your soul something different was going to happen on that night, and you were right. The two of you casually talked about what was happening with your plans to escape, but you noticed as you spoke Kit inched toward you, so slow that if you hadn’t been paying attention you wouldn’t have noticed.

“What are your plans if we succeed?” He asked.

You smile and lean back on one of the tables. “I want to go to the beach. Feel the sun on my skin again. It’s far too gloomy here, I’ve almost forgotten how it feels to be outside. What are your plans?”

“I suppose I’ll be going to the beach, since that’s where you will be,” he answered.

You feel your cheeks begin to burn. You look away and chuckle, you're nervous like the first time you ever spoke to him. But for a whole different reason. When you looked up at him again, he was barely a foot away from you. Your heart skipped a beat.

“You’d stay with me even after we get outta here?” You asked, your voice softer than before.

“I’d stay with you forever if you let me,” he replied. He reached forward and touched his knuckles to your cheek, brushing them so gently across your skin you can barely even feel it. You swore you couldn’t breathe. “I’ve never met anyone in my life that has as much of an effect on me as you do y/n. I can’t stay away from you.”

“Kit…”

“You don’t have to say anything, I understand if this is too much for you. I understand if I’m not enough for you, you are one special woman y/n. I just-”

You didn’t let him finish his sentence. You cut him off with your lips meeting his. He kissed you back as quick as he could, his hand now cupping your cheek. It was soft and sweet, everything you’d expected Kit would be like. After a few seconds he pulled back and looked down into your eyes, your knees felt weak at the look in his dark eyes.

“I think I’m in love with you,” you whispered. “No matter how odd that sounds it’s true. You’re the most caring man I’ve ever laid eyes on, I can’t help but want you.”

“I’ve wanted to hear that for so long. I am in love with you, and once we get outta here I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Kit declared.

Before you could reply, he leaned down and connected his lips to yours once again. You felt as though you had died and were already in heaven. Being with Kit made you have hope, he was light in that everlasting darkness of Briarcliff. You loved him, you really did. And as the two of you kissed you knew you’d do anything to one day get out and marry him.

The kiss moved fast and before you knew it Kit was starting to put his hands on you. Your body felt as though it were on fire. Every inch of skin that Kit touched became lit with the flame. He moved his hands along your waist, your arms, your back… you couldn’t get enough. But as he started to reach for your breasts you pulled away. He looked down at you, concern on his face.

“Sorry did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not. It’s just that well… I’ve never done anything like this before. That was my first kiss, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. We’ll take things slow all right? We’re gonna have all the time in the world,” he spoke. He was so sincere; it made your heart melt.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you replied with a smile.

Kit returned the smile. “But would you mind it if I kissed you again?”

“I’d like that too.”

~~~

In the weeks that followed, you and Kit spent as much time as you could together, along with Lana planning your escape. You and Kit were set on getting out. He promised the second the two of you were free he’d marry you. You loved the fantasy. You’d be married in secret and run off together, forgetting all about the terrible parts of your past. He’d buy you a house in a calm neighborhood and you’d raise his kids. It was all you wanted.

One night the two off you had managed to get a few minutes alone in one of the bathrooms. You were against the wall, Kit’s lips on yours. He cupped one of your breasts, while his other hand was dragging its way up your thigh. You try your hardest to keep quiet, but as he begins to trail his lips down your neck you can’t help yourself. You’ve never felt such pleasure in your life.

“Can I touch you baby?” He whispered against your skin. “But you gotta stay quiet.”

“I don’t know if I can, I’ve never been touched down there,” you admitted, your cheeks turning red.

Kit moved back and looked you in the eye. “Well, you know what it feels like from yourself, it’ll be just like that.”

“Well, that’s the thing I’ve never really done that.”

“You’ve never even touched yourself?”

You shook your head and Kit exhaled deeply. You began to feel ashamed; he must’ve thought you were a prude. You figured he knew what you were thinking though, because he touched your face softly and gave you a smile.

“You’re purer than any of the nuns in here,” he joked, earning a small laugh from you. “You’re perfect. I just wanna ask, what do you like? You know, in those ways.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt these feelings for another person, hell I don’t even really know how all of it works. The only thing I was taught as a girl was that sex is when a man puts his… in a woman,” you explained.

“Then how about we find out together? There are some other things I wanna do to you than that,” he replied. He looked out the window and back to you before speaking again. “We don’t have too much time left, but let me try something before we go. Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” you answered, and you meant it.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he mumbled.

You thought he was going to kiss you again, but instead he dropped to his knees. You were confused for a second. What was he doing? You then remembered the time you walked in on Shelley doing something to one of the guards. She was on her knees and his pants were down… she was using her mouth on him. That’s when it hit you. Kit was going to use his mouth on you.

He stuck his head under your gown and began to leave small kisses up your thigh. You covered your mouth with your hand and gasped. You’d never felt anything like it. He was quick with his motions, so quick you didn’t even have time to think. In a matter of seconds, he had pulled your panties down and spread your legs. You held in a breath and you felt his hitting your most sensitive spot.

Once his tongue made contact with your clit, that was it. You hit your head against the wall as you threw it back. His tongue was so warm, so soft. With every lick you felt electric shocks pulse throughout your body. You moaned into your hand, your legs becoming wobbly with each passing second. You’d never imagined that much pleasure was held between your legs. It was unearthly.

A wetness started to drip down your leg, but neither of you paid attention to it. You were too engulfed by the building sensation inside you, and Kit was too busy making it happen. You used your free hand to bunch up your gown, you wanted to see him. You didn’t expect him to already be looking up at you. The sight was one you never could have thought of. Kit’s dark eyes were locked on your own, you watched as he licked and kissed your clit. You were speechless.

“Kit, stop. I feel like I might pee,” you suddenly whispered. It was true, you did feel as though you were going to.

“You’re not going to pee, you’re going to cum,” he murmured. “Just let it happen.”

You were going to object, but that’s when you felt it. Your legs started to shake and you couldn’t stop the loud moan that left your lips. That was it, what you’d heard of through whispers. Your first orgasm. Kit didn’t stop for one second, in fact he sucked on your clit even harder. You felt your insides pulsating with pleasure, and by the time it was over you could barely stand.

Kit pulled your panties back up once you were finished and stood. You could see the glistening of your juices on his chin. He smiled and rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth.

“I want to do that every day,” he said. “You’re delicious.”

“Oh Kit,” you mumbled before pulling him in for a kiss.

~~~

The day you and Kit were freed from Briarcliff was the second-best day of your life. The best day of your life came only a week after being free. It was your wedding day. You and Kit traveled a few towns to get to the quickest courthouse. Even though it wasn’t a real wedding, and even though it only lasted an hour, you would never trade it for anything else.

After the ceremony was over and you were officially Mrs. Walker, Kit took you to a motel. You were nervous, but more so excited for what was to come. Like you were straight out of a movie Kit picked you up bridal style and carried you inside your room, the both of you full of joy and laughter.

Once inside, you realized Kit had made preparations. Rose petals were on the floor trailing up to the bed. Candles were lit all around the room. You looked at the dresser and saw two glass cups accompanied by a bottle of champagne. Your heart melted at the gesture.

“Would you like some champagne Mrs. Walker?” He asked after placing you on the bed.

“Champagne, so fancy. Of course, I would Mr. Walker,” you answered with a laugh.

He grabbed the bottle and popped the top off, pouring both of your glasses and bringing it to you. He sat next to you on the bed and took a sip, you did the same. After he finished his glass, he got up and turned on the radio. The soft melody eased your tension a bit.

“Are you happy?” Kit’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

He was standing in front of you by this point, you looked up at him and smiled again. “I’m happier than ever my love.”

“So why am I getting the feeling you’re anxious?”

“I dunno,” you spoke, you placed your cup on the bedside table. “Is it going to hurt?”

“Oh, that’s what this is about.” He sits beside you and takes one of your hands in his. “Don’t be nervous, it’s gonna be good. It might hurt a little, but don’t worry I’ll take good care of you.”

You sigh in relief. “Thank you, for being so patient with me. Not many guys like to wait nowadays.”

“I’d wait forever if that’s what you wanted y/n, don’t feel pressured to do this just cause it’s our wedding night. We don’t have to.”

“No, I want to do this I’m just a bit nervous that’s all. I trust you’ll be gentle with me and make it as good as it can be,” you said. You kick off your heels and slip the little headband with your veil of your head. “I promise I’m ready.”

“I’ll be very gentle,” Kit spoke before closing the gap between your lips.

He keeps that promise throughout the entire night, going only at your pace. First, he laid you back on the bed, undressing you slowly. You couldn’t hold in your laughter as he struggled to drag your garter down with his teeth and you couldn’t stop blushing when he starred at your nude body and called you the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Watching him undress himself made you clench your thighs together in anticipation. His body was perfect, his abdomen full of muscles clear as day. Up until this point neither of you had seen each other fully naked, and you were both glad you waited. After he was undressed, he crawled back on top of you and resumed his previous kisses. He kissed down your jaw, your neck, until he took one of your breasts in his mouth. You moaned, your hands weaving through his hair as he sucked your nipple. It was a sensation you’d never even thought of being so good.

When he was done with that he moved down between your thighs and didn’t wait a moment to begin his careful licks on your clit. Your back arched, your thighs clenched around his head, especially after he slowly started to thrust a finger inside you. It was the first time anything had been inside you, and it didn’t feel half bad. In fact, after a few minutes you began to enjoy the feeling. That’s when he added a second finger.

You came fast, and Kit didn’t stop until you were almost asking him too from the overstimulation. Your chest was heaving as he moved on top of you. He kissed you hard, you could taste yourself on his lips. You knew it was time, and you weren’t nervous.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Just say the word and I’ll stop, okay?”

All you did was nod. Kit placed a short kiss on your lips before spitting on his hand and lowering it to his hard dick. You felt him place it at your entrance, it was big. He placed his hands by either side of your head, lacing your hand in his on one side. Without wasting anymore time he began to push himself inside you. You gasped, grabbing his shoulder with your free hand.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he whispered.

You didn’t reply. You bit down on your lip until he was fully in. It hurt, but it wasn’t the worst pain you’d endured over the years. You could handle it. Kit waited until you gave him another nod to continue. Once you did, he started to slowly move in and out of you, each thrust hurting a little less than the previous one. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his soft noises only making the experience better.

“You can- you can go faster,” you said shakily after maybe ten minutes.

“You sure?” he mumbled.

“Yes.”

He did as you said and began to truly fuck you. You loved how much he loved it. His hand traveled down your body to grip your thigh. He lifted it up, his thrusts going deeper inside you than before. You moaned and pulled his lips to yours. He was insatiable. Biting your lip, sucking your tongue, it was nothing like what the two of you had done in Briarcliff. You loved it.

Kit didn’t last much longer after that. When he came, he moaned your name in a tone that made your stomach fill with butterflies. He collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy, his heart rate erratic, and his dick pulsing inside you. You moved your fingers through his sweaty hair and held him tight as he rode out his high.

“I love you,” you whispered softly. “And maybe it’s not the time to say this, but I’m grateful to have been put in that terrible place because it gave me you.”

He lifted his head from your chest and starred into your eyes as he spoke his next words. “I love you more and if I could go back in time, I would never change a thing. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

[mercillery]

CROSS GUILD WITH A CHILD READER

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD + I MOSTLY TALK ABOUT BUGGY OOPS

NOTES: A clown, a swordsman, and a sandman. My favorite trio. Everything written here is so random, so please buckle up. 🫨

You've got Crocodile and Mihawk, both big shots in their own right, and they've got a ton of stuff going on, right? They're busy dealing with all sorts of important things, and suddenly, you come into the picture needing someone to look after you. Now, it's not that they don't care about you or anything, but they're not exactly equipped to handle a kid at the moment. So, what do they do? They look around and think, "Hey, who can we pawn this kid off to?" And guess who they settle on? Buggy. They're both kind of on the same page about Buggy being, well, pretty useless most of the time. But hey, he can at least handle babysitting duty, right? It's like the least he can do to make himself a bit more tolerable to Mihawk and Crocodile. And eventually, you end up in Buggy's care, and who knows, maybe he surprises everyone by not completely messing it up. It's like a little test for him to see if he can step up and actually contribute something meaningful to the Cross Guild, while also maybe earning a bit of respect from the big bosses themselves—Crocodile and Mihawk. Plus, it might even help smooth things over between them all, make things a bit less tense in the Cross Guild. It's kind of like Buggy's chance to step up and show he's not totally useless after all.

Spoiler alert: Buggy is, in fact, useless, even when it comes to babysitting.

While under Buggy’s care, think of that one audio that goes like, “You want a beer?” “He’s four!” “I DONT KNOW WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH HIM?!” Buggy is the one offering you a beer, and it’s probably Alvida scolding him for offering you a beer. He’s trying, okay—and it’s the thought that counts. When Mihawk and Crocodile first told him he'd be looking after you, Buggy's gut reaction was to grumble and complain. But then he saw the looks they gave him—those death stares that could silence any king—and he quickly shut his mouth. Just like that, he accepted his new role with a resigned, "Okay, I am now a babysitter." Sure, he's skeptical about the whole thing. I mean, Buggy and babysitting? But he knows better than to argue. So here he is, awkwardly navigating this whole childcare thing, making blunders but genuinely trying his best. It's a weird situation for everyone.

I imagine that you have been with the Cross Guild for some time already, so this likely isn’t Buggy’s first time taking care of you. Yet every time feels like the first time for him. He's just not a natural with kids. It's like he's constantly second-guessing himself, unsure of what to do or how to act. But you know what really lights a fire under him? Compliments. Especially when they're about how cool he is. Seriously, mention anything about his awesomeness, and suddenly, he's walking on air. You can practically see the confidence oozing out of him. "Oh, you think I'm cool?" he'll say, grinning from ear to ear, soaking up every bit of praise you throw his way. And if you really want to see him shine, just keep the compliments coming. Tell him how flashy and impressive he is, and watch as he practically transforms before your eyes. Suddenly, he's not just awkwardly babysitting; he's putting on a show, trying to impress you with his swagger and style. After that, you'll probably notice a change in him. He'll start to relax a bit and maybe even start looking forward to spending time with you. Buggy the babysitter isn't such a wild idea after all.

And if for some reason Buggy isn’t the one taking care of you, it’s most likely Mihawk who steps up. Crocodile's usually buried under a mountain of responsibilities, so Mihawk takes it upon himself to keep an eye on you. Now, unlike Buggy, Mihawk's not exactly awkward around kids. He's just... well, himself. You know, all serious and stoic, like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders. He doesn't really have much experience with children, so he kinda just treats you like a mini-adult. No baby talk or anything like that, he just sees you as a little human being. But don't worry, he's not some mean old grump or anything. He's just firm. Firm as in he won't tolerate any disrespect or nonsense from you, but he's not gonna yell or anything like that. His gaze alone is usually enough to keep you in line. Oh, and whatever you do, don't even think about touching his sword. Seriously, that thing's like his baby—the last thing he wants is a crying kid with a cut because they were being too clumsy. He might let you take a good look at it though. So look all you want, but keep those small hands off. But you know what he will let you have? His hat. If you beg ask him nicely enough, he might just let you borrow it for a little while. So go ahead, give it a try. Who knows, maybe wearing Mihawk's hat will make you feel like a little pirate captain or something.

And then there's Crocodile. When it's his turn to take care of you, his approach is pretty straightforward. He'll plop you down somewhere near him and tell you to behave and stay out of his way while he works on stuff. But what kind of kid is just going to sit there quietly and stare at their dad work on a bunch of boring papers? None. Exactly. So naturally, you start to get a bit antsy. At first, you try to be subtle. You scoot over a bit closer and peek over his shoulder, trying to see what he's so engrossed in. And what do you find? Boring paperwork. You sigh, plopping back into your seat, feeling utterly defeated by the sheer dullness of it all. Then the questions start. "Crocodile," you call out. He doesn't look at you, but you know he's listening. "What are you working on?" "Work," he replies, his voice flat and uninterested. "Crocodile," you try again. "Hmm?" he grunts. "Why are you so tall?" "Why are you so talkative?" "Crocodile," you persist. "What?" "Can I have one of your rings?" "No." He goes silent again, but you're not giving up that easily. "Crocodile," you say once more. This time, he finally glances over at you, annoyance etched across his face. Perfect, you think—this is your chance to unload all those burning questions. So you start firing away. "Why are you called Crocodile? Are you a crocodile? How did you get that scar on your face? Can you make a sandcastle? Can I have your hook? Can I have your coat? Can you make my hair like yours? Can you make me cool like you?" He listens in silence as the barrage of questions comes his way, his eyebrow quirking slightly at the rapid-fire interrogation. "Kid, where are all these questions coming from?" he finally asks, unable to hide the hint of exasperation in his voice. “My head," you say innocently, flashing him a wide-eyed look. It takes everything in him not to roll his eyes at your annoyingly cute innocence.

Now, when it's the three of them—Mihawk, Crocodile, and Buggy—all tasked with taking care of you at the same time, things can get pretty complicated. On one hand, you have the stern swordsman and the no-nonsense sandman keeping a close eye on you while you and Buggy play patty cake. It's a weird dynamic. Buggy's usual strategy in this situation is to dive headfirst into playing kids' games with you, trying his best to act like he's fully engrossed in the fun. But you can tell he's a bit on edge, especially when you notice him glancing nervously over his shoulder, feeling the burning stares of Mihawk and Crocodile boring into the back of his head. Sometimes, the tension gets to be too much, and Mihawk and Crocodile can't resist giving Buggy a hard time, even in front of you. It's like one of those awkward moments when you're watching your sibling get scolded by your parents. You can see Buggy's face go pale, and he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. But then there are those moments when you step in to defend him. Buggy has never felt more grateful and relieved in his entire life than when you stand up for him like the little knight in shining armor you are. And believe it or not, your defense actually does make somewhat of a difference. Mihawk and Crocodile are way too mature to start bullying a child for defending Buggy, no matter how much they can't stand him. Plus, the last thing they want to deal with is a full-blown crying session from a grown man and child. Sure, your defense might earn Buggy even more glares from the two men, but it also makes them back off a bit. You can imagine Buggy clinging to you like a damsel in distress while you stand there, fierce and determined, protecting him with everything you've got. It's a sight that definitely annoys Mihawk and Crocodile. But hey, at least Buggy's got someone in his corner.

It’s pretty much a given that with Crocodile and Mihawk watching over you, you're practically untouchable. Even Buggy, despite his penchant for getting into trouble, wouldn't intentionally put you in harm's way. Sure, he may accidentally stumble into dangerous situations from time to time, but deep down, all three of them care about you—even if they don't always show it. Since you often spend the most time with Buggy, it's not uncommon for him to inadvertently lead you into precarious predicaments. Take, for example, that time you found yourselves perched on a rocky hillside, with Buggy enthusiastically rambling on about how cool and flashy he is. But then, in a classic Buggy move, he trips and starts tumbling down the hill—with you in tow. You’d think your life would flash before your eyes in a moment like that, right? Wrong. Instead, it's Buggy's life and yours flashing before his very eyes. The panic he's feeling right now is like when Crocodile and Mihawk are giving him those death glares, except multiplied by a thousand. But here's the thing: Buggy's luck? It seems to have rubbed off on you because, miraculously, you came out of this whole ordeal without a scratch. Meanwhile, poor Buggy's got a bloody nose, a bruised face, and who knows what else. But the moment he sees that you're okay, it's like a floodgate of relief and joy bursts open. He's screaming at the top of his lungs, cradling you like you're some precious treasure he's just unearthed. You can't help but feel a little overwhelmed. And it's not just because of the screaming clown in front of you—it's also because you know he's genuinely relieved that you're okay. (Think of that one part in the movie The Lion King when Rafiki just holds Simba high up—except in this situation it’s Buggy holding you high up and screaming out of joy like some madman. I legit had to search for this scene on YouTube because I forgot that dang monkey's name.) The only problem now is that Buggy's got to come up with a good explanation for those injuries he’s got when Crocodile and Mihawk inevitably catch sight of him. 

When hunger strikes, Mihawk is usually your go-to guy. He's not just the world's greatest swordsman; he's also a fantastic cook. If he ever decided to retire or whatever, he could easily become a top-notch chef. Or he could be the world's greatest swordsman and chef at once, who knows. On the other hand, if you asked Buggy to cook, you'd probably end up with something burnt. And Crocodile? He'd just brush you off with a classic "go ask your dad" line, where "dad" in this case is Mihawk. Of course, Crocodile never actually calls Mihawk your dad, but you get the joke. Anyway, Mihawk takes his cooking duties seriously when it comes to you. He doesn't cook for you throughout the day. Instead, he wakes up at the crack of dawn and prepares enough food to last you the entire day. By the time you wake up, your meal is already waiting for you, perfectly packed and ready to go. And the impressive part is that Mihawk always packs just the right amount of food, ensuring that you're never left hungry or stuffed. It's like he has some kind of sixth sense for portion control. If, by the end of the day, you haven't seen Mihawk at all, you make a point to find him at night just to say thank you. Mihawk, with his usual stoic demeanor, nods at you and sends you off to bed. It's a small ritual, but it means a lot to both of you. Another thing about Mihawk is that he's meticulous about your diet. He makes sure you're eating healthy, well-balanced meals. Sure, he lets you have sweets now and then, but he's always careful to remind you about moderation. He'll explain how too many sweets can be bad for you—not to scare you off sweets entirely, but just to make sure you're aware. He doesn't want you polishing off your fourth chocolate bar of the day, especially since Buggy is probably sneaking them to you because he thinks you're the cutest thing ever. Overall, Mihawk's attention to your diet and well-being shows how much he cares, even if he's not the most expressive guy. He might be stern and serious, but his actions speak volumes.

You have this cute habit of constantly asking Crocodile to pick you up. Honestly, who wouldn't want to be hoisted high up by the tallest guy around? For a kid, it's like an instant rollercoaster ride that's thrilling and fun. At first, Crocodile's pretty reluctant. He’s not exactly the most nurturing figure, and he's out of practice handling kids. But you, with your endless persistence, your pleading eyes, and that adorable pout, eventually wear him down. The first time he gives in is pretty comical. He picks you up with a heavy sigh, clearly unsure of himself. For a moment, he just stares at you, probably wondering what he’s gotten himself into and debating whether he should put you back down or not. But then you flash him your brightest, most radiant smile, and he knows he’s stuck. He figures that if he puts you down now, the cycle of begging and pleading will start all over again. So he resigns himself to carrying you around as he goes about his day. Unfortunately, you don’t get to choose where he takes you. Crocodile decides the route and destination, and that’s non-negotiable. If you start to complain about it, he'll fix you with a stern look and threaten to put you down and never carry you again. That usually gets you to pipe down pretty quickly. But all that aside, being carried by him is an absolute blast. He's so tall that you get an amazing bird's-eye view of everything around you. There's a thrill in being up high, combined with a comforting sense of security, knowing that Crocodile’s got you firmly in his grasp and won't let you fall. As for the way he carries you, it’s always in his arms. On very rare occasions, he’ll let you sit on his shoulders. But there's one rule: don't mess up his hair. Seriously, he’s adamant about that. So there you are, perched up high on Crocodile's shoulders, looking down at the world with a huge grin on your face. Despite his grumbling and sighs, you know he doesn't really mind. In his own gruff way, he’s grown fond of having you around.

You may be a handful, but you're their handful.

[rodolfoparras]

Corruption kink with Noir where he's so gentlemanly and polite and we (being the pervert we are) wanna crack that surface and make him so horny and drunk on pleasure he can't think clearly enough to be a gentleman anymore

Lights, Camera, Action

Pairing: Spider-Man Noir x Top Male Reader

Content tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, Sub!Noir, Dom! Male reader, corruption kink, accidental voyeurism, alluded gun play, power dynamics (Noir’s a detective, reader is a criminal), riding, rimming, alluded oral sex, non consensual recording

A/N: corruption kink is on my wont write list since it’s not really my thing but I’m ok with this pair’s dynamic so I decided to give this a try (and added my own little spin to this)! However pls make sure to read my list before requesting! Also I tried a different style of writing here since I really wanted to expand on the elements mentioned in Detective’s work. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Ever since Noir entered the police academy he’s dreamt of making a name for himself.

He just never thought it would be this way, sat in front of three burley men known as disciplinary officers, watching what’s supposed to be interrogation tapes but were anything but that.

“This is detective Noir at New York Police department. Today’s date is Wednesday, March 13th 1934. The time is 08:45 AM. This will be a recorded conversation with…..”

It’s clear that Noir’s nervous, you can hear it in his voice, can see it in the way he’s constantly straightening out his uniform, even in the way he’s adjusting his glasses and rearranging things on the table.

You’re seated opposite to him and despite the bright orange uniform you’re wearing and the cuffs around your wrists, you’re smiling while listening to him.

“Could you tell me a bit about where you were…”

When Noir first got tasked with this job, he couldn’t believe his ear.

He’d just graduated from the police academy, barely made a place for himself at the station before he’d been assigned to deal with the most prominent criminal plaguing the city.

He was very well aware of the name you’ve made for yourself, reminded himself even to be careful when starting to work on your case.

He just never thought things would turn out this way.

The tape freezes for just a second before it starts playing again, this time showing Noir perched on your lap, uniform long discarded onto the floor and voice hoarse as he desperately tries to make himself cum.

“Please please” Noir sobs out while practically bouncing on your cock.

You’re still sat in your chair, wearing the very same overalls as before just with your bottom half pulled down to expose your cock. Your arms are still cuffed but pulled behind your back and you’re sporting the very same grin on your face while facing the camera lens.

“You can do it doll, I know you can” you say, eyes half lidded and mouth agape, sounding relaxed as ever as if you didn’t have the head detective of your case riding your dick.

And really that’s all it takes for Noir to start unraveling, coming with a cry spilling all over your overalls and his abdomen.

The recording’s abruptly cut off, his pulse is roaring in his ears, shaky breathes escaping his lips as he scrambles his brain for something to say.

But just as he’s about to say something, another tape starts playing

You’re in the same room as before but this time Noir’s sat on the table rather than on the chair. He appears much more confident, arms folded over his chest and looking down at the notes next to him.

So far the interrogations are going well , everyone’s amazed with just how much information the newbie is able to get. When asked about it Noir says that confidence is key, you can even see it oozing from him in the recordings.

But this is just a facade. His arms are folded over his chest to hide the sweat stains. He’s sat on the table in hopes of disguising the tent he’s sporting in his pants while staring down at his notes to avoid your burning gaze.

“Alright, we talked briefly about….”

You’re still sitting in the same chair, looking just as relaxed as before, even appearing intrigued with the interrogation or rather the interrogator.

Your cuffed hands are resting on the table, the overalls you’re wearing clearly straining as you lean closer to him, while your eyes trail along the length of his body.

Once again the tape freezes before it starts playing again, this time showing Noir with his ass up in the air, chest flush against the table. His hands are behind his back, fingers parting his cheeks while you’re tonguing his puckered hole.

“Please please-” Noir slurs out while erratically bucking up against your mouth.

“Tell me what you want pretty,” you say as you pull away and he almost sobs at the loss of contact.

“Let me cum, please, please I need it,”

The camera’s a bit further away, video lacking color but it doesn’t take much to see he’s got flushed cheeks, drool dripping down his chin as he desperately chases his release.

Theres a string of words he wants to say as an officer turn off the tape, a flux of emotions bubbling up in his gut as he takes in the disgusted expressions of the people that once admired him , a burning need to walk up and take the tape away as he digs his nails into the palms of his hand but before he can do so the officer puts in another one.

There’s no video, only an audio recording, no introduction this time around, no question being read out loud. It’s almost like the people aren’t even aware that they’re being recorded.

That’s when it hits him, they must’ve secretly been recording you and him. They being the police squad. They had started to get suspicious, huge parts of the footage from the interrogations had started to go missing, suspicions rose even more when he had requested to stop all recordings so they had to decide the bug the room while Noir was holding an interrogation.

Hushed words sound through the speaker, then there’s the sound of something shuffling around, accompanied with squelching before he hears you speaking.

“Fuck, you wouldn’t even care if you got your head blown off huh?” You say whilst laughing hysterically in disbelief.

There’s more squelching sounds, more shuffling around, a groan leaving your lips that’s being picked up by the mic.

“Just like that keep going ah fuck!,”

His gaze meets the officers’ as he hears you say

“What would the officers think if they saw you like this?”

[hazard-c-horror]

Would Frank and Hazard Vibe?

I take it back!

After todays video

I think Frank and Hazard would be GREAT friends

The two have similar goals, and surprisingly alike in a way

I was going to save this for my character sheet, but here we go

As some of you noticed, Hazard has something almost constant oozing out of their mouth. Now this liquid, call it mucus, drool, or just liquid. Is a poisonous liquid that if ingested in any way or its vapor is breathed in, gives an effect on people.

Hazard can change what the poison is, and it changes color depending on its effect. But the main blue poison that’s constantly oozing out, gives the effect of fear. Whether it be seeing fearful hallucinations or just having extreme paranoia, it gives fear.

Since Frank is may be the embodiment of fear or negative emotions, I think the two would do great as a duo.

Frank seems to use fear to somehow help people, Hazard does almost the same thing with villains they wish to reform. Frank latches onto people he wants to help, Hazard mostly does the same with their host, also wanting to help. (That’s why they mainly infect villains. To help them.) also both are now considered parasites.

Also new H.C that Frank might drink some of Hazard poison as like a food source, and that Frank would be immune the the fear poison