#and that the text under the top images are spaced a bar away from them or else the text will delete itself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

awingedinsect · 7 months ago

Text

-Flood me like Atlantic-

Chapter 11

Full series

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: TRAUMA. Processing grief. De@th and loss of loved ones. Descriptions of g0re. This one was a bit difficult to write but it’s an important addition, and something you’ve all been waiting for MIGHT just be at the end! enjoy :)

He remembers that moment.

The way the beach got suddenly so quiet.

How when he looked up from his notebook, he couldn’t see a little head playing in the shallow waves.

He remembers how he ran. The way the wet sand churned under his feet as he called her name, running down the shore.

How the dark waves felt enveloping him, fighting his body off, like it wasn’t welcome in the water; trying to break his bones as his voice got hoarse from screaming.

He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe it…

“I don’t believe it.” II Whispers, eyes dilated and hollow. He sits on the end of his bed, not even looking up at Vessel in the doorway.

“I don’t believe it…”

“II? Can I come in?” Vessel speaks softly, though his lanky frame is a bit stiff. His hands fidget in the front of his hoodie.

II’s wet eyes flick up at him, red lips parting in a tragic shape. He nods.

Vessel steps quietly inside, closing the door till it’s open just a sliver like he found it.

II’s room is plain. Mainly a grey palette, with a few posters and cassette tapes littered around. Clothes are piled up on top of the dresser and the bed is unmade.

He’s been locked up in here, since last night when he saw the news. III and IV had both initially followed him in, trying to console him behind the closed door as Vessel stood outside, helpless.

II was crying.

And he knew he wasn’t supposed to help.

Now, Vessel settles down on the bed next to him, not saying a word. His head is bowed, eyes staring into space for a few beats before nervously flitting over at the drummer.

“…How you holding up?”

II sniffles, wiping his face. He sighs. “I dunno, Vess. I’m fine. I just can’t…” he looks up at him now, those big red eyes almost pleading. “Did you see what he looked like?”

Vessel did.

How could he forget? The image is now burned into his head as permanently as the symbol behind his bangs. Matt’s body, stretched out on the rotten floor of the house. The candles surrounding him, melted into puddles that seeped up around his blue skin and mingled with the blood dripping from the marks on his chest.

Patterns that lace Vessel’s own body.

Venus is dead.

He had to tell himself that over and over again, all night and all morning. She’s dead.

…isn’t she?

Vessel’s hand slips out of his pocket, tentatively moving to II’s knee.

“I know what you’re going through.” He says. “…grief is the toughest pill there is, I think. I wish I could fix it, II.” There’s a desperation in his voice, a little crack that he tries to hide. “…You don’t deserve it.”

“Who could’ve done that to him?” II’s voice is choked again. “Fuckin carved him like an animal.” His eyes meet Vessel’s, and go hollow. “…Did someone try to do that to you?”

Vessel swallows.

He still hasn’t told any of them the story. About Venus, about what happened that night. But he knows they’ve all been thinking about it since the photograph flashed on the tv.

It’s about time he told someone.

“…I dunno if it’s connected.” His voice is low, threatening to get bumpy. “But… you remember that girl who walked up at the bar? At the Blacklit room?”

II nods, confusion in his face. But he lets him continue. “Well, she texted me, about a week after the accident. Had me meet her at the sight. And she… well, she drugged me.”

II’s eyes go wide. “You telling me she did all that to you?” II looks horrified.

“…when I woke up she and her friends had me tied down.” Vessel’s lashes flutter, blinking away a bit of dew that’s gathering. “And then she… got on me. Told me I was some kind of offering, then got her knife out.”

II is silent. They both are for some time.

“…I think she’s dead, II.” Vessel says. “I dunno all that happened, I blacked out again. But she was gone and I… could just feel it.”

He wasn’t about to launch into the whole story. To be honest, he’d kick him out of the house too if he brought up Sleep. Though maybe one day they’ll be able to understand.

“I could be wrong.” He says. “She might still be out there. But no matter what, we’ll get justice for Matthew… I promise.”

Vessel almost thinks he hears the floorboards creak outside the door. He turns his head only for a moment, but II stays still. The drummer bows his head.

“…I loved him, I think.” He whispers. So quiet that it’s barely heard. So soft that Vessel knows it’s only halfway meant to be said; a confession for himself.

“Did you?”

“…maybe. I don’t know. I’ve known him since we were kids, on and off… never was able to shake the feeling that maybe I wanted him more than I had him. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? He’s fuckin dead.”

The words drill straight into Vessel’s chest like a knife. Oh, II…

The water choked him, salt burning his eyes as he swam out into the deep. He couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t hear anything but the water. It dragged on his clothes, trying to swallow him just so it could spit him out.

Vessel’s eyes glaze over, wondering off to a different plane. “…I had a sister, once.”

II looks up at him, blinking. “…not anymore?”

The words come out of his mouth like breathing. Like breathing with lungs full of water and a head full of so many memories it’s about to overflow.

“…I was sixteen.” He continues. “Wasn't supposed to happen, you know?” His voice breaks on the last word, and his throat ties in a knot. He hasn’t talked about it in years. “Just one day and… I lost her. I was supposed to watch her, to make sure she stayed close. I looked away for only a minute.”

II’s face is even paler as he listens, hands knotted in his lap. His eyes are wide as saucers and more intense than Vessel has ever seen them, though he barely dares to take his own off the opposite wall.

He clears his throat, swiping his cheek with a sigh. “…the point is, she gave me a keyboard for my birthday. That same day. She got to hear me play it, said she loved it… she always loved to listen. I was just teaching her how to play the piano that month… She was a natural.” His eyes are full now, lips quivering. But there’s a point to all of this, and he’s gotta see it through.

“Matt was a drummer, yeah?”

II nods, scrunching his hands in his jeans.

“Means he’s not all gone. He’ll be with you now, when you play. In the music and the sound. Just like she’s in the keyboard, and in every the piano. We keep playing for them.”

His hand climbs to II’s shoulder, squeezing softly. “To keep their sound alive.”

II sniffles, nodding. “…thank you.” he says, hunching into Vessel. He wraps his arms around his waist, disappearing into his side like a little shadow. Vessel isn’t sure what to do at first, wet eyes blinking away the fog now that he’s being held. His arms wrap slowly around his friend, hugging him like he hasn’t hugged anyone in awhile.

They sit like that for a few minutes. Neither of them say a word, and neither of them cry anymore. It’s a sacred moment suspended in time and memory that Vessel makes sure to lock away and not forget.

After awhile they part, and Vessel leaves for the door.

“Vess?” II’s voice follows after him. He turns, raising his brows.

“What ever happened to your keyboard?”

The drummer asks. “You still got it somewhere, right?”

Vessel shuffles his feet, fingers gripping the brass doorknob.

“…It was in the motel I was staying in before everything.” He says, swallowing hard. “Probably confiscated, by now. But it’s alright. Maybe it’ll turn up in a pawnshop one of these days, huh?” He tries to smile, for II’s sake. But they both know it’s forced.

II nods, knotting his hand in the bedspread. “Yeah, probably, mate.”

As Vessel walks out, his head turns down the hallway just in time to see III’s door close softly shut.

He hadn’t even heard him.

•••

The house is quiet.

More quiet than usual.

Vessel stands in the kitchen, hand splayed on the counter as he downs a glass of water. His eyes are unfocused, flitting lazily out the window at the pitch darkness and the kitchen reflected in it, trying to gather his thoughts.

Where had he gone?

IV and II are both in their rooms still, having gone to bed hours ago. The sun will be up in an hour or two. But Vessel only managed to grab a bit of sleep before getting up to pace the night away, mind turning sluggishly over the events of the past few days and how they might correlate to III’s sudden disappearance.

“Does he do this often?” He had asked IV as the sun was setting and the bassist was still nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t said he was going anywhere, or even that he had something he needed to do. IV shrugged. “Sometimes… not a lot. But don’t sweat it, I’m sure he’s fine. If he’s not here for breakfast I’ll try calling him again.”

Vessel rubs his eyes, blinking hard. His head still hurts from that bit of an emotional display with II earlier since, honestly, he hasn’t cried in a good long while. And even then, it was hardly a sob fest.

But it certainly could have been.

”If you’ve gotta be sad, why don’t you write about it?” He can hear her say. “Make a song about being sad. That way, when people hear it, maybe it’ll make them happy they’re not alone!”

He closes his eyes, dropping his head back as his fingers tap slowly over the edge of the cold counter. Back and forth… Hands arched… If he listens carefully, he can hear the notes.

A tear slides down his cheek.

Suddenly he hears something down the hall. His eyes flick open, turning around as his fingers go still.

He sets his glass down.

“II?” He whispers, passing by the drummer's door and going straight to the sliver of light pouring out of III’s. He doesn’t remember it being open.

Reaching for the knob, he pushes it quietly and peers inside.

III’s not here.

Nothing is out of the ordinary, the stained glass lamp casting a soft glow over the aesthetically pleasing mess. And yet his heart drops to the floor the second his eyes land on the middle of the bed.

There’s no fucking way. That’s not possible, is it?

An unmanageable frown starts growing on his mouth as he steps inside, hands reaching shakily for the familiar row of pearly white keys. They’re a little scratched, the black surface aged and feeling oddly bare of a white bow.

But it’s perfect.

He presses down a single note, the delicate sound settling into his bones.

“-it’s tuned.”

He turns around, eyes blinking hazily at III in the doorway.

“What?” His voice is half stolen. “How did you- where did you…”

III steps inside, doc martins and a long suit jacket not detracting from the bags under his eyes. He looks exhausted. He wanders closer to Vessel, looking down into his eyes and not stopping, finally. Those long lashes flutter as he looks over him, casting shadows down his cheeks.

His lips part. “…It’s tuned.”

Vessel’s arms are around him before he can stop himself, and III returns the gesture like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Like holding him was something he was always meant to do, and that all he needed was the proper time.

“Thank you.” Vessel chokes into his shoulder, hands clawing up the back of the jacket. “T-thank you.”

III’s hands spreads in the back of the singer's hair, holding him tight enough to suffocate him and not showing any sign of letting go.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes.

And that’s it.

…And that’s more than Vessel ever needed to hear from him.

He was spat out. Left on the shore, rejected by the sea and all that it contained. He was desperate. Alone. Made to wander and wonder why he wasn't fit for the same tomb as her, after all.

He waited on the beach, praying to the water. Spreading his hands in the foam and asking it, simply, why.

But it had no answer, and neither did anything else. Not his mother, not one of the flyers in the waiting room a month later. Not a god.

Though he had this insatiable desire; To claw down his mothers heaven, and make sure that the girl was in there. If there was ever a reason for heaven to be real, it was so that she’d be put in it and sheltered forever. Whether or not it was best. Whether or not he’d ever be able to reach her, in the end.

“Let the tide carry you…” his hands draw the sounds out of the freshly tuned keyboard, nodding his head slowly to the music. It’s alive again.

“…back to me.”

Tags: @thevenomousseprent @moonlit-valkyrie @mmendez0124 @yourviscera @rain-down-on-me @xzero01

#vessel #vessel sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token iii #sleep token #sleep token ii #sleep token iv #iii sleep token #jennifers body #jennifer’s body au #sleep token vessel

51 notes · View notes

antlerqueer · 1 year ago

Note

hii, megan! I hope everything is going well for you. I was wondering if you'd be willing to share how you created the gifs and images overlay effect in this /post/727210103698259968/scott-pilgrim-2010-lgbtqcreators-bingo pretty set? Have a nice day.

I will do my best!

First and foremost shout out to @nelsonnicks Norah whose beautiful gif set here inspired me!

In order to make this as succinct but also thorough as possible, there are some assumptions this tutorial makes:

We are working in photoshop

You know how to make a gif using photoshop

You know how to use the timeline feature to make/edit gifs

Okay let's learn how to make this gif:

(Due to Tumblr's image number limitations, there is a PART TWO linked where I add that "item" and gif, which you can find by clicking this entire sentence.)

STEP ONE: The Image Overlay

Pick your image! Here's the one I've picked, I cropped a page of the graphic novel:

From there, I'm going to click on that magic wand tool:

And select subject (crudely circled for emphasis)

If it's not perfect, you can either use the quick selection tool to refine the selection before or continue on with these steps and use the eraser later. I do both, but it's up to you.

Now I have a lasso around the subject, and I'll click that "Select and Mask" button next to "Select Subject"

Now I can see what my lasso'd image looks like against a white background, and I see that it's pretty good, nothing I can't fix with an eraser if I really want to later.

If the image looks rougher than you were expecting, use the SMOOTH option and play around with that slider.

If it looks a bit more smooth than you wanted (not clear defined lines where you were aiming for clear defined lines) use the CONTRAST option and play with that.

And if you wanted a little more or less around the edges, you can use the SHIFT EDGE tool to grab like 1px-ish of additional space.

Anyway, I like what I've got, so I am gonna CLICK OK

And I'll either cut or copy it onto a new file, and throw away my scraps.

Now it's time to add my character details! I'll use the same format I did for the original set here, and create 3 equal-sized rectangles using this lovely shape tool tool:

So my working file now looks like this:

I move the rectangles closer, I'll want them behind the image of Ramona after but here's just what it looks like while I'm adjusting them.

Then I add the text:

Now, it looks like when I put the bars behind her it'll cut off her name! I don't want that, so I'll adjust the side of the bar for her name and scoot it over....

Nice!

Now I'll adjust those layers to be closer together and behind Ramona...

And this is what my screen looks like now!

It looks how I want it, so now I'm gonna merge all of the layers EXCEPT the background layer. This makes it so the part that's merged has a transparent background.

Highlight the layers, right click, and find the "Merge Layers" option

And now it looks like this:

Step one COMPLETE. Great job. Have you been drinking water? It helps you think clearer. Or something.

STEP TWO: Make the gif you want. Sorry I'm not doing this step-by-step it would be so long I'm sorry!!!

STEP THREE: Put Ramona on the gif!

So I just use the selection tool and make a square around my bestie Ramona here to create this:

And then paste her right on top of my gif here:

Woah! She's ginormous!

Let's resize her by hitting CTRL+T....

This is where we get a little creative. Personally? I think the font is legible, but doesn't look nice now that I've resized it. So I'm going to back to the original file and UNDO my last action (merging the files):

And hit CTRL + T on the Ramona layer (Layer 1 pictured) and adjust her size:

Time to merge these layers again, and redo the process:

MEGAN SHE'S LARGE AGAIN! I know, I'd rather work with big files I have to make smaller than small files I have to make bigger. Sue me.

Resize the layer, make any adjustments to the gif you have under it in terms of placement/size:

And WHEW we got this part done.

STEP FOUR: Add color overlay

I'm gonna make her color overlay blue like her cartoon hair, so I'll eyedrop tool her hair:

Go to Layer:

Add new, and then using a regular brush at like 5000px just click onto that new layer, and...

Bump that layer under your Ramona cut-out,

Go back to the layer drop-down menu, and select Blending options...

And this little menu will pop up:

MAKE SURE YOU HAVE THE PROPER LAYER SELECTED FOR THIS. Otherwise you're going to be very confused.

See where it says "Blend Mode" and it has a drop down under normal? For these purposes, I'm gonna use the drop down and select COLOR:

Now you can see that all-blue layer in the background now is showing the original gif behind it, but you know your original gif? "I know of it." It's all blueee. /ref

This is what it should look like:

Before I go any further, I'm going to check my timeline to make sure this is covering the WHOLE duration of the gif:

It does, so let's drag that bar on the right to line up with the end of the gif:

All fixed!

So now we've got this:

Oh man! See those white spaces between her arms? I'm gonna go back and fix those now, fortunately I can edit it directly on the full file itself, by just editing that layer.

Using my magic wand tool, I'm selecting those white spaces between her arms and her jacket and deleting them-

She's not perfect but you can always be nit-picky and zoom in really close and refine with the eraser.

PART TWO

#answered #Anonymous #usergif #userairi #usernorah #userbarrow #userhallie #usercats #tuserheidi #tutorial #gresource #gif tutorial #pscentral

49 notes · View notes

c-mccormick-svad-2022-2025 · 2 months ago

Text

(ARTS347) Assignment #1, #2, and #3, Figma For Beginners and Figma Module

Week Two

NOTE: There was no Blog Post for Week One, as students were required to create their websites on any platform (WIX, Squarespace, AdobePortfolio, etc.) and post the link to Basecamp. Here's the Link to my website.

Assignment #1: Dissect a Single Web Page.

Assignment #1 requires students to gather in groups to break down the anatomy of a web page. Based on the discussion and lecture notes, the purpose is to highlight the anatomy and indicate what makes it successful. In Miro, my group and I were tasked with finding an unsuccessful website and mobile site and labeling both the unsuccessful site and the successful example. For this assignment, we were tasked with dissecting hoodamath.com (the bad example) and MCA's website (good example). We highlighted the anatomy and presented our findings during the class discussion. This exercise was informative as it allowed us to think about a website from a constructive point of view. Another interesting takeaway was that the bad example included ads that linked to different math websites, directing users away from the website and linking to its competitors. Professor Kahlili informed us that this practice would be discussed in detail during a later lecture. Overall, it was a great and informative start to learning the basics of web design.

Assignment #2: Information Architecture.

The objective of Assignment #2 was to consider a website as a dynamic entity that can evolve. For this assignment, my group was tasked with analyzing the information architecture of the RIGGS Partners website by creating a site map. The goal was to assess whether users can easily find essential information and perform key tasks when navigating the website. This exercise allowed us to delve into the fundamental structure of a website and consider the user experience. While exploring the RIGGS website, I noticed that it effectively guided users deeper into the site. However, numerous external links redirected users to other websites. While this isn't necessarily a negative aspect, the primary goal should be to keep users engaged within the website. Having too many external links may divert them away. Overall, this exercise was valuable in helping me comprehend the process of mapping out a website and understanding the user experience.

Assignment #3: Single Page Scrolling Site.

Assignment #3 helped improve my understanding of using Figma and navigating the software to create UI designs, wireframes, and prototypes. This assignment was considered a design sprint by the professor, and it aimed to display three works by a randomly assigned designer. The designer I got was Eddie Opara, who is known for his activism and branding work. The single-scroll site exercise was an introduction to a part of Project #1, where we had to create a single-scroll website for a luxury airline sub-brand under Delta Airlines. This exercise familiarized me with Figma's workspace and the prototyping feature, which was unique and fun. Although the exercise was challenging due to images and text constantly moving in and out of the wireframe, it was informative overall. It helped me get more familiar with Figma and its features. Regarding feedback, Professor Khalili said that the overall design looked great. The font size must be 15-18px for the body copy, which was successfully addressed. My headers, subheaders, body copy, and captions are clearly defined. However, there was an issue with the menu, as it was triggered by the entire navigation bar when it should only be triggered by the three lines (hamburger menu) at the top left, which needs to be fixed. It was also noted that the designer's name was spelled incorrectly, but after a Google search, I learned that Eddie Opara is the correct spelling, not Opera. Professor Khalili also mentioned that the negative space in the design makes it inviting and fun and seems like a product I'd like to use to learn about Eddie.

0 notes

tranthologies · 2 years ago

Text

EPISODE HIGHLIGHT: CICADA NIGHTS

Today we're highlighting our 15th episode of Season 1: "cicada nights"

it's about drag in the south and queer trans boys in love

you can find it wherever you get your podcasts! (if not, pls let us know!)

https://shows.acast.com/tranthologies/episodes/cicada-nights

Image description under the cut

Slide 1: A brown background. In white lettering, a title reads: "cicada nights" In the centre of the page, there is the cover art for this episode. It pictures a wooden building against a night sky. The cover art has arrows pointing away from it with text coming off them. The text coming off the arrows reads as the following: "1. Southern accents 2. Y’all means all! 3. Drag in the south 4. Celebrations of queerness 5. T4t boys 6. Hallmark cheesy but they’re all drag performers.” There are sparkly gold stars across the top of the page, and cowboy boots in the bottom right corner.

Slide 2: A brown background. There is a design of a piece of paper in the centre of the page. On the paper, text reads: “Two trans boys who’ve been in love with each other for years team up with the other trans queer kids in their small southern town of Starry Lake, Mississippi, after they’re enlisted by their local beloved drag performers to save the only drag bar-and trans safe space-in miles. AKA, a trans country story about protecting your safe spaces no matter the cost.” There are sparkly gold stars across the background, and cowboy boots in the bottom left corner.

Slide 3: A brown background. Covering most of the page, there is a design of white lined paper. On the paper, an excerpt from the episode reads: “Lucky: Here’s the thing about Cici, Beau. The things she did don’t start here at Cicada’s and they don’t end here. If we don’t save the bar - and that’s a big if - what she gave us is connection. And friendship. I looked up to you for years. I thought you were so brave. And then when you were the one who fixed up my motorcycle, that felt like fate. That felt like community. Connection. You had my back, and I had yours with the mean kids at school, too. And Darlene, and Jojo, and Brooks - she introduced you all to each other. She made sure that even if somethin’ terrible happened, like losing her, or losing Cicada’s, we would still have each other. And we do still have each other.” There are sparkly gold stars down the right side of the page.

Slide 4: A brown background. In the centre of the page, there is a design of white lined paper. On the paper, the credits read: “CREW: Written by Morgan Champine. Directed by Felyx Pozorski. Audio editing by Alex Abrahams. Music by Eden J. Storm. Cover art by Wyll. CAST: Necrotika Trashwhore as The Announcer. Theo Wampuszyc as Beau Dixon. Kaz J. Calkins as Lucky Rivers. Kash Hervias as AnnaMae Dixon. Wes French as Jojo Jackson. Moira-Juliet Scott as Darlene Porter. Zoey Davis as Indie Anna // Indy Tyler. Wyll as Miss American Pie // Buck Garrett. Sats Di Stefano as Hush Puppy // Hazel Macy. Charles as Little Miss Peachy // Patrick "Patty" L. Emily Larus as Corn Hole // Gage McLean.” There are sparkly gold stars across the top of the page, cowboy boots in the top right corner, and a cowboy hat on the left side of the page.

#tranthologies #tranthologies podcast #audio drama #fiction podcast #queer podcast #trans podcast #queer #trans #audio drama podcast #lgbtq #lgbt #t4t #trans boy #trans man #transmasc #drag #drag queen #drag king #drag performer

0 notes

trinh24 · 2 years ago

Text

ALT English Boards for Junior High School

Here’s a guide on how I conceptualize and create my English boards for the junior high school I work at!

1. Come up with a theme

This can be something simple and seasonal or very specific. I focused on holidays a lot, but I wish I had more time and leeway in my classes to teach the kids more about Lunar New Year, which is a holiday I miss celebrating and that they aren’t familiar with! Other good ideas would be less popular holidays that aren’t talked about in Japan like Hanukkah, Ramadan, or MLK day. If you can’t think of anything, you can incorporate the school events like a prediction for the sports festival weather, messages to teachers, or even messages from teachers to students. Don’t be afraid to do a non-seasonal theme for December if you’ve had enough of Christmas or don’t feel passionate about it.

My students tend to be very lazy when they read the board, so I don’t bother teaching grammar or anything about English on the board (unless that was part of the theme). They only look at it from far away for a short time, so I need to make things large and focused on one activity. Teaching a culture is also more interesting than grammar or spelling. English in the classroom is already boring enough for them.

2. Plan the assets

On my boards I put:

The name of the month

A paragraph or so of English explaining the theme, split into individual sentences

An activity that involves the students reading and touching the board in some way. Things that work well for the JHS level are polls where they vote for 2+ options, sticky note prompts to write or draw something, or freebies where they can grab notes or cards you made for them. My co-ALT also had Halloween masquerade masks that they left by their board for the kids to try on, and that seemed like a great idea too if you have a big budget to splurge at the 100 yen store every month. Polls are by far the best thing I’ve tried so far on my boards!

Themed pictures and stock images to decorate

Some other JETs or ALTs I noticed put whole calendar sheets on their boards and have a word/song/etc of the month corner, but those take up too much space for me. (If you had a giant amount of space then go crazy.) If there’s too much clutter or I haven’t outlined the activities to be punchy and bold enough, my students won’t be interested.

3. Create the assets in Canva.com + Hand-draw assets

I use Canva to create my typed and printed materials for my boards. If you like another site then use that. For my style, it’s good to mix both hand-written/drawn and typed/printed materials so that the boards look cute and friendly but also legible and clean. I recommend rotating your document to landscape to fit more printed text on one sheet. If you want to use things for multiple boards or again the next year, you can laminate stuff too.

The assets I choose to be printed are: - English sentences (because I have bad handwriting). Please choose a font that has handwritten lowercase “a”s and “g”s. Comic sans MS is actually perfect for this. (If you want to print Japanese text, type in Japanese into the search bar to find cute rounded fonts that are compatible with Japanese characters) - Pictures and images (Canva has a good selection of graphics and stock photos.)

The handmade assets are: - the letters for the month (usually too wide or big to comfortably print on A4 sizes without wasting a ton of paper) made on construction paper - the Japanese text (written under my printed English). I choose to write the Japanese because I know how to and it occasionally impresses other teachers. It also forces my students to walk up close to the board if they want to rely on the Japanese.

4. Assemble the board!

For my boards, I put the month at the top, the English text to one side, and the activity to the other. I separate the English text into smaller sentences and caption with Japanese. This helps when maybe your 3rd years know the grammar but 1st years don’t.

Having distinct sections helps the board flow better. Drawing a line with a marker connecting all of the sentences in the order they should be read in helps. Also, visually distinguishing important sentences or words with underlines, borders, and colors can also help.

For activities, use a clear action verb so the students know what the activity is. I recommend saying: “Let’s vote!”, “Let’s write!”, “Let’s make Valentine’s Day cards!”, etc.

5. Show it off!

When you’re done, you can hang it up and be the first to participate in the activity! Asking the other JTEs, faculty and staff, or your favorite students to participate next can help avoid an empty, sad void. Walking out during lunch break and after school to stand by the board to explain it also works to lure the students over.

At the end of the day, this is my personal style of English boards. I’ve thought about making more unique, stylistic ones for every month like my predecessor, but this simple formula works for me and the current students. Be sure to adapt boards to suit the English level of students and try only translating a few words if they can read well.

I’m really proud of my October and March boards; they got a ton of participation, and I feel like they were fun. :) Some other months were kind of boring or just straight up ugly, so you can guess what those are. If I could go back and fix them, I’d make them nicer since the I think the board’s visual aesthetic is really important. There’s plenty of time for desk-warming as an ALT so use that time to plan for the months in advance!

Here are some of my boards!

(Graduation theme! All the students ended up writing notes to their friends. Not a single teacher thanked, even though I tried to convince them they should write to teachers. The “learning new things with my friends” option also has too many votes since the boys stuck extra on that one. I stopped them from trying to make a sticker smiley face.)

(Halloween theme! The students drew the ghosts themselves! The English text lifts up with the flap to reveal Japanese translations underneath. My students don’t like touching the board unless they really need to, so I don’t think they used them. Maybe the flaps would work better at eye level for small elementary-school students.)

(Thanksgiving theme! I should have made this interactive or made the students write something.)

(Valentine’s theme! I wish I had better cards, I didn’t like the gift tag templates on Canva and should’ve made my own. A section to show off cards students wrote would’ve been good too.)

#jet #english board #ESL #alt #guides

1 note · View note

milli3stuff · 8 months ago

Text

Notes 14/03/24

Indesign:

shortcuts:

Space = pan/create a space

Zoom = 2 mouse left click - out, right click- in

T = type tool

V = selection tool

A = direct selection

to make column, direct selection tool and change the column number to 2

to type or fill paragraph go onto type, then type bar up the top and then click fill with placeholder text

changing font and spacing under paragraph style options

pressing W = preview mode

VA - up the top changes the spacing on the lines

When in text editor shift + arrow keys to highlight text - up and down = lines, and left and right is characters/words

shift, command and arrow keys selects whole words.

Also hold command to select larger element

shift return = soft return

to get rid of hyphenations

making headings by pressing return before and after the word. highlighting the heading, making it bold, creating a new paragraph layer by pressing the + at the bottom of the panel, then clicking on the headings layer to make them bold like the first one created.

changing the space before and after

Highlighting the text, creating a new layer, double clicking on that to open the panel and changing it to bullet points and changing the spacing.

changing the character style by highlighting the text, creating a new ;ayer and changing the font style.

adding frog into indesign after editing it in photoshop by going window link. then refresh

The image is always in a frame

to rescale an image in its frame - shift command

Shift option to make the frame smaller/crop it and keeping it center.

window -> text wrap -> to place image in text

moving the text away from the sides using text wrap and using the text wrap panel to adjust the numbers to adjust the text spacing next to the image.

create an ellipse around the frog, click onto the outside of the circle but still on the image, then do command x, then click on the circle and then right click on the circle and click place into.

using text wrap again to go around the shape.

0 notes

mrskittythulhu · 3 years ago

Text

blue flames and red feathers (2)

part1 part2 part3

wattpad

(18+) Dabi + Hawks + (y/n) fem

Shifting from foot to foot on the sidewalk outside your apartment you waited for your coworkers to arrive. You spent hours shuffling from outfit to outfit until you ran out of time and settled on a blue skater dress. You didn’t care much for the heals but they matched. You knew that if you wore them your feet would be killing you later, but the lack of other options forced you to wear them tonight.

The drive to the club was lively with the radio blaring. You almost wanted to insist that they come back another night when you noticed the long line of patrons wanting to enter the club. To your dismay one of the girls said she was a friend of someone who worked for Endeavor’s agency and got his rejected club passes. Hawks had told you before that many businesses send freebees to top heroes in hope of them coming. It was a strange type of marketing ploy.

After you each flashed your IDs to the bouncer you made it inside the loud thumping smoke-filled club. Bright lasers filled the dark space and low lights illuminated the bar and seating areas. You watched as your coworkers quickly flocked the bar grabbing shot glasses while you awkwardly maneuvered through the crowds. By the time you regrouped the boisterous group of girls were slamming their second shot glass.

Barely able to hear what the girls next to you were saying it was just easier to smile and nod at the conversation. Swiftly a couple of the girls from the group broke off to the dance floor. Wasn’t long before they were no long dancing with each other but dancing with strange men.

“Here drink this.” One of your coworkers nudged you for your attention handing you a swirling blue liquid inside a small glass cup. With a tight smile on your face, you thanked her. You knew you needed to loosen up the awkward tension was thick. Not wanting to be a wet blanket you drank down the glass. The burn of the alcohol caused you to let out strained coughs. When you regained yourself, you looked around see that your party had fully disbursed leaving you alone at the bar.

With wobbly feet you walked towards the restrooms in hope to text Hawks that you were not having a good time and wanting him to pick you up. Hopefully he wasn’t busy working far away. Between the uncomfortable shoes and the strange alcohol hitting your system each step became harder and harder. As you nearly fell over strong arms wrapped around your mid-section pulling you back into a hard chest. The thump of your body colliding with their then them colliding with a wall knocked you dizzy for a moment.

“Where are you off to little slut?” A deep voice whispered in your ear. A chill ran up your spine as you knew you could never forget the sound of HIS voice. You felt the scratch of metal on the back of your leg as his hand ran up your thigh. He was under your running a finger under your panties at your hip. His fingers felt hot against your soft skin.

“Are you off to fuck another villain in the bathroom?” Dabi was enjoying how your heartrate and breathing started to pick up. Your heavy panting causing your breasts to rise and fall. “That’s right you’re into heroes again. Guess you must be over that bad boy phase already.” Panic filled you from him knowing something so personal. You started to squirm away, but he gripped his free arm over you like a seatbelt leaving his hand light placed over your neck. He started to shush you while the hand under your dress was placed over your clothed core. His fingers pushing the fabric between your folds to soke up your moistier.

“Please Dabi let me go.” You sucked in your bottom lip as you let out a throatily moan from his touch. “I promise I wont tell anyone I saw you here. I just want to go home.” His nose was running along your ear, so you were able to hear him moan as if he was thinking over your words despite the loud music. “Please.” You begged with the prick of tears in the corner of your eyes.

“Alright.” His grip on your neck tightened but his large hands didn’t put pressure on your airway. “But I will be seeing you real soon (y/n).” The hand under your dress gave a squeeze of your womanhood and you jumped from the sensation. “Real soon.” He left a chase kiss at the back of your cheek near your ear. As quickly as his hands were on you, they were gone.

You spun around losing your balance in the process to see where he had gone but there was only a wall. With more urgency you made your way into the restroom. You frantically pulled out your phone but no answer from Hawks. After a deep calming breath, you texted him. If it wasn’t for autocorrect none of your rapid-fire messages would have been legible. Despite you promise deep down it would have been foolish not to tell your high-ranking hero boyfriend that a top villain was at the club. Taking a seat on the countertop you downloaded a ride share app quickly typed in your info and waited for the notification that your ride was here to get you.

“Shit.” For the second time you dropped your apartment keys to the floor. Your mind was still uneasy after your run in with Dabi. You didn’t even bother to tell anyone you had gone home. Only hiding in the bathroom like a scared child until your ride showed.

You had convinced yourself that the reason he was after you was to kill you. He knew you had told the police about him and wanted to tie up loose ends. This panic left you trembling. You took both your hands wrapped them around your keys and slowly managed to open your apartment door. A stray tear left your eye at the small victory. Rushing inside you slammed the door shut and locked it quickly. You peeked out the spy hole like a mad woman only letting out a deep sigh when you noticed the hallway was still empty.

Flicking on the living room light you only felt slightly safer in the walls of your apartment. You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and went into your bedroom. Telling yourself that after a relaxing shower and good night sleep you would feel better. Chugging half the bottle down you felt the cool water chill your racing body. With quick movements pulled your skater dress over your head and tossed it into the hamper.

In the mirror you noticed the large wet spot on your panties from when Dabi had touched you. Slowly you moved a towards your lower half, but you stopped suddenly. In the corner of your eye, you noticed movement in the mirror’s reflection coming from behind you. As you looked over your eyes wide with fear as bright blue eyes stared back at you.

Dabi was leaning with his arms folded over his chest on your bathroom door frame. You spun around nearly loosing balance from your heals. The palms of your hands gripped the top of your dresser keeping you from falling over.

“W-wha..” Your frantic words trailed off.

“I told you I would see you soon.” He started to take long strides over to you.

“Ho- How did you get in here.” He didn’t answer with words only a blank expression and a shrug of his shoulders. Before you could ask another question, he was towering over you. Your eyes stayed locked with his fear kept you trapped in place. You knew what this man was capable of and images of your tragic end on the evening news filled your mind.

“A-are you here to kill me?” A sly smile pulled at the corner of his lips. He placed his hands on the dresser behind you trapping you in place. He leaned his face closer to yours with a hum in his throat. His nose lightly brushed along your cheek when he reached your temple, he placed a chase kiss to your skin.

“I was thinking about it.” He brought his hand up capturing your chin to keep your attention forced on him. “Would be a shame to get rid of such a fine piece of ass like you.” He ran his thumb over your lips on instinct you opened your mouth allowing him to run is thumb over your tongue while you lightly sucked it. “So why don’t you do what you do best and convince me not to kill you.”

His grip on your chin tightened as his thumb firmly pressed on your bottom front teeth. Your sucking stopped as he started to guide your face down. You slid to your knees and placed your hands on his hips. You looked up to see his blue eyes glowing with an unsettling desire. It was clear as glass what he was in your apartment for and its not like the night you shared together was bad experience. The only dread you had was having Hawks suddenly come home and catch you with a top villain.

“Do it just like you did when we met.” He removed his hand from your face while yours went to work on his belt. With nimble hands you undid the button and pulled down the zipper. With a shifting grip you laced your fingers at the top of his pants pulling them down to his mid-thigh. You were now face to face with his cock bulging beneath his shorts. He made it jump knowing you were staring at it. You tried to hide your smile at the childish act as you slowly looked back up at him.

“Well? get to it slut. We don’t have all night and I have many other positions I plan to have you in before I’m done.” One of his hands slid across your cheek to the back of your head his fingers now laced in your hair. Slender fingers slipped under his waist band to pulling them down until his cock sprung free.

Dabi’s dick is beautiful, for several reasons. It’s long and curves upwards beautifully when he gets hard. There are visible veins along his length, but the one underneath is particularly thick and gorgeous. The perfect canvas for the Jacob’s ladder that he has going from base to tip. The Prince Albert piercing was new. He must have got it done just after you met because it looked well healed. The wide head of his cock is always so pretty and pink. You staired in awe watching the little beads of precum leak around his piercing it was especially mouth-watering. He’s not as girthy as Hawks, but those piercings and veins more than make up for it.

His fingers tighten in your hair as he felt you start to take him in. The taste of metal and salt was thick on your tongue as you tentatively sucked on the tip, and it just tasted so good. You missed what it felt like to have him in your mouth, in your throat.

You picked up his weighty cock, lifting it above your face, so that you could deliberately drag your tongue along his shaft, letting it slowly climb every rung of the ladder while he watched. In awe of how big his dick looked resting against your cute face. How fucking sexy you looked when you locked eyes with him, pupils already blown with lust from how desperately you wanted him to abuse each and every one of your holes.

The sensation of the piercings on your tongue was enough to have you clenching at the thought of him sliding inside you, scratching that itch in a way that you never would admit out loud. How could you tell anyone that one of your best nights was with a top villain. You moaned, a lewd, animalistic sound as you bobbed your head over his length, feeling your tongue dance over the piercings again as the metal fastened within his tip kissed the back of your throat.

He nearly came the first time you took him to the hilt and watching you do it again now was dissolving his restraint. His fingers fisting into your hair to grip it tight, knuckles turning white as he held himself as still as he could in your throat, willing himself not to cum before easing your off his length with a choked groan.

“Shit, baby,” he murmurs, inhaling a deep breath as he slowly shifted his hips forward, rocking his length in and out of your mouth. He was loving the tears that fell from your eyes as you held back from choking on him. “You love this dick, don’t cha, doll?”

“Mmhmm,” you mewl, humming around the head as your tongue swirled around the metal and pressed against his sensitive slit lightly flicking his piercing.

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he growls, his eyes closing as his head dropped back. You began to swallow down the thick hot ropes that hit the back of your throat. As he slowly slid out you continued to lightly suck on his tip making sure to not miss a drop.

“You wanna know what? I actually missed the feeling of being trapped inside that soppin’ cunt of yours.” With a bit of force, he pulled you up to your feet then pushed you on to the bed. Your palms flat on the plush bedding slightly hunched over. You felt a chill across your exposed body as you stood there in your undergarments and heals.

His lips attached to your neck as his fingers went to work to remove your bra. He continued his wet openmouthed kissed along your skin causing goosebumps to form. With a soft thump you heard your bra fall to the floor. He trailed his fingers lightly up your spine causing you to whimper in your throat.

A flat palm placed between your shoulder blades forcing your upper body down to the bed. Dabi leaned over you slightly using some of his wight to keep you down. His free hand started to run along your clothed womanhood. His middle finger pressed the fabric between your lower lips causing the material to become moist from your juices.

“You are such a slut getting off to my cock, what a horny little bitch. But your my bitch aren’t you—yeah, say ‘yes sir’.” He quickly removed his hand from between your legs to send a sharp slap to your cheek.

“Yes sir.” You sharply squealed out.

“Wonder what your little hero boyfriend Hawks would say if he saw you like this? Does he make you as wet as I can?” You ducked your head down in shame. For a moment in your lust filled haze you had forgotten about Hawks and the guilt was twisting at your heart.

A cold chill stunned your body as you heard the click of locks from your front door. Despite the low villainous chuckles from Dabi you were hyper focused on the sound of Hawks’ work boots thumping closer to your bedroom.

“Whoa? I thought you were going to wait for me?” Hawks stood tall in the doorway looking between you and Dabi.

“Hawks!” You called out in panic, but he didn’t react to you. A confused look spread over your face as you took in the words, he just said realizing they were not aimed at you. It was boggling to even fathom that your loving boyfriend in anyway was working with Dabi.

“Aww... look at the little plaything trying to figure it all out.” Dabi’s words were venomous and caused your stomach to twist. You couldn’t help the tears that started to flow from your eyes.

“Come on chickadee don’t be like that.” As Hawks walked closer to you, he removed his jacket and shirt. You felt Dabi shift behind you and heard the rustling of clothes he was likely removing his pants from around his ankles. Hawks stroked your cheek so he could tuck some loose hair behind your ear.

“We just wanted to share you. (y/n) I care about you so much would you really think I would let any harm come to you?” He always has a huge twinkle in his eyes and a silly smile on his face whenever he looks at you but right now there was something slightly dark there. He only had that look when he was in an especially sexual mood. That look always caused heat to build in your panties. His words started to echo in your head as you debated his offer. No harm had come to you so far when you were alone with Dabi in fact you were quite enjoying yourself. The image of both of them having their way with you was enough to get you to start rubbing your legs together to create much needed friction.

“Seems the little slut likes the idea.” Dabi leaned next to your ear. “Not like I really cared what you thought. This isn’t about what you want Its about what we want.” With force Dabi flipped you to your back causing you to squeal in surprise. You looked away toward Hawks to see him removing the last of his clothing.

Hawks’ cock might be nicest you have seen, he has a red tip with a vain running from the tip to the base on the top and the same on the bottom. He started to lazily stroke his length as he crawled on the bed next to your head.

Dabi grabbed your face to the point it started to hurt forcing you to look back at him. His free hand was held up and incased in a blue flame. Your eyes went wide with fear but you dared not to move. Hawks gently stroked the top of your head calming you down slightly but you refused to look away from the flame. His flamed hand went down to your panties and he engulfed them. The heat stung your skin but once enough fabric was gone so was the flame.

Hawks placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and whispered that you were such a ‘good girl’. Dabi slid his hand off your face to grip your throat giving your neck a stern squeeze. His pointer finger and thumb guided your face towards Hawks’ prominent erection. Dabi slid his free hand down into your core the heat that lingered on his fingers from his quark left a warm sensation inside you. Your lips went wide as you gasped from the pleasurable sensation allowing Hawks’ to slip himself past your lips. Dabi wasted no time and removed his fingers from your dripping core and began to slide his own length inside you.

"Fuck baby, yeh that's it shit-", Hawks says grabbing your hair, you let out a moan around his dick as he pulls your hair slightly. “Yeah, you enjoy taking me so well, don’t you, Chickadee?” He hits the back of your throat as he moans. He has his hands in your hair, tugging at it, throwing his head back in accordance with the bobs of your head. You start to bob your head faster, hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue to lick the veins along his cock.

"Ahh~ yeh that's it good girl, suck my cock"

Dabi had his palms underneath your knees, your thighs pressed up towards your chest as his slender body loomed over you, his thick cock sliding inside your tight cunt with slow, hard thrusts. His blue eyes watching the way your tits bounced with each rut of his hips.

“Fuck, doll. You feel so fuckin’ good. Look at your sloppy pussy, taking me so well.” Hawks’ removed himself for a moment from your mouth. You whimpered when you felt Dabi adjust your thighs slightly, slipping your ass further up on his lap as he began to angle his thrusts at a different spot inside you, one that had your eyes rolling back.

Shoving his precum, and saliva-soaked prick back into your mouth until Hawks was sure he was going to cum. You were so keen on helping him, humming with excitement as he fucked your mouth.

You feel him twitching in your mouth, "Fuck baby gonna cum" he says as he holds on to your head in place, thrusting his hips into your face, his cock going deeper into your throat.

"Fuck.. ahh~ shit yeh fuck-" Hawks moans out as he shoots his thick cum into your throat, painting the back of your throat white.

Dabi’s thumb unrelenting against your clit as he began to draw random patterns against it, groaning when he felt you begin to clench around him. Your cunt clenching around his cock as a clear stream began to trickle from your tight cunt.

Dabi’s eyes instantly looking between where your bodies were connected to watch the liquid seep from your body, splashing against his pelvis, abdomen and your thighs as he continued rutting his hips into you, enjoying the sight of you squirting all over him.

“Shit, that’s what I’m fuckin’ talking about doll, you dirty fuckin’ bitch.” The way your cunt was squeezing around him in the aftershocks of your orgasm had Dabi following you into bliss, bottoming inside you a final time as he came deep inside your quivering walls.

When he pulled his softening cock from your tight cunt his eyes immediately watched the way your cunt squeezed around nothing, unable to resist slipping his fingers down to run through the mixture of your releases, feeling it damp against his skin.

"Your blow jobs really are the best baby" Hawks kiss your forehead, but your body was so numb and buzzing from the after shock of your pleasure you could barely feel it. Your head was dizzy and your vision was blurry from tears. While you felt the bed shift as they moved away from you everything went dark and you drifted off to sleep.

You awoke feeling over heated. Heavy lids opened to survey your surroundings. The heat you felt was Dabi and Hawks sandwiching you between their bodies. With careful movement to not wake either of them you managed yourself out of bed. With light footsteps you made your way to the kitchen for much needed drink of water.

You felt sore, humiliated, and very satisfied with what you remembered doing. Once your thirst was quenched you walked back into your room only to stop at the sight of Dabi and Hawks cuddled together. You held back you giggles and found your phone. After snapping your picture, you hid your phone in your underwear drawer and tossed on an oversized shirt and panties. When you turned back to the bed you could see golden eyes peaking at you.

He lifted his wing and lazily lifted his arm making a small space for you to come back to bed to. You didn’t know the extent of his relationship with Dabi or what it meant for your relationship now that you three all shared an intimate moment. Sleep called to you louder than the million questions swirling in your head as you crawled into place. Hawks kissed your forehead while you felt Dabi shift behind you grunting.

“Night boys.”

#dabihawks #dabi smut #dabi x reader #dabi x reader x hawks #mha dabi #hawks x y/n #hawks smut #mha hawks #mha smut #keigo x touya #touya smut #keigo smut

200 notes · View notes

mckkachins · 4 years ago

Text

gif cut-out tutorial

ok ok so @subtledean requested a tutorial on how to do stuff like this post with the gif cutouts and the text effects. hopefully this helps aria ;w; i’m not the best at explaining things but i included some screencaps for clarity. i’ve tried to compress all the sample gifs and screenshots down to under 3mb to avoid tunglr compression on mobile so if they look a little different from the actual gifset, that’s probably why!

what you’ll need:

photoshop, i’m using PS 2021 but any version of photoshop will work out

a basic knowledge of gif-making (i’m assuming you already know how to make a gif and color it).

step 0: storyboard

this isn’t strictly necessary but i HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend it. you don’t have to do any photoshopping this first step, but it’s really important to check out your footage and the shots you have gathered to see what works, especially if you’re trying to combine three or more gifs onto the same canvas. like literally take a piece of paper and draw out where you want the character’s faces to be, where you want the cutouts to be in relation to their faces, and think about whether or not there’s enough empty space to the right or left of characters heads for a cutout to be placed. is there too much movement that would be distracting or messy in an already busy gif?

things like that really help, and it also makes you double check on your footage quality and feasibility. if you end up making a gif where you want one character’s face to be on the left side of the gif but it turns out there’s not enough empty space on the right side of their face to place a cutout and you then have to hunt for new footage or start all over, it’s kind of a trainwreck and you just waste another hour of your time as you deepen your procrastination hellhole. that’s not a real story—

step 1: make the base gif

i’m assuming you know how to color it already. and aria i KNOW you know how to color already so :) size it accordingly to your desired dimensions.

as you can see, i left enough space on the right side of abaddon for the knight cutout to be placed.

save this as a .psd file. you don’t actually have to sharpen and do everything that comes at the end of making a gif right away, but make sure your layers are clearly labeled. do NOT convert to video timeline/smart object just yet.

step 2: make the cutout gif

this is critical: make absolutely certain your cutout gif has the same number of frames as your base gif. otherwise it could get really messy! abaddon has 20 frames, so the cutout will also have 20 frames. again, do not convert the cutout gif to a video timeline/smart object. just keep it as a frame animation. here’s my cutout gif. it’s just a simple b&w gif but i added a touch of purple for color consistency sake whatnot.

now for this particular gif i’ve actually cropped abaddon to be roughly exactly where i would want her face to be in relation to the first gif, but that is unnecessary. helpful, but unnecessary. you do NOT need the cutout gif to be cropped exactly perfect in order to make this work.

step 3: combining the two gifs

there are many different ways to combine two gifs onto the same canvas. some people like to do it via video timeline. i prefer to do it by frames and convert everything to a video timeline only at the end (it’s just a personal preference). here’s a tutorial if you prefer working with timelines, but i’m gonna go over how to do it by frames.

first group everything in your base gif into one folder. then group everything in your cutout gif into one folder as well. you can name them however you want to keep track of things.

then, select all of the frames in your cutout gif. in this case, all 20 of b&w abaddon get selected. make sure its not just frames 4-20 or whatever, but all the frames you made. you can click frame one and then shift-click your last frame to double check.

click the timeline tab group options bar and then go to options > copy frames

now go to your base gif canvas. select ALL the frames of your base gif as well (it’s critical that all of them are selected).

now do options > paste frames.

a popup should appear and you’re going to select the “paste over selection” option. do not link layers.

your cutout gif should now be completely or partially obscuring your base gif. however, now you should see two groups on your sidebar of layers. one for the base, one group for the cutout. if you labelled them with names you can tell which one is which.

step 4: creating the cutout

in order to create the cutout, we use my favorite thing in the whole world of photoshop. layer masks.

to make a layer mask, you simply select a layer or group you want to mask and then click this little icon on the row of icons at the bottom of your layers panel.

white on a layer mask means whatever group or layer is getting masked is completely visible. black on a layer mask means that the group or layer is invisible. if there is 50% gray on a layer mask, then its 50% visible. so on and so forth.

i love these so much i abuse them on the daily. i’ve made a few gifs where i’ve masked every frame one by one because i wanted to get some cool effects. admitting that kind of embarrasses me but oh well.

anyway this is simple though. just find a picture or an outline of a knight. i used these boyes:

obviously i cropped out the knight of the bunch, got rid of the watermark, and then i placed it on the canvas where i wanted it to go.

select the interior of the knight with the magic wand tool. should be pretty simple since it’s all black.

now click over to your layer mask. make sure you have selected the mask and not the group. you can tell you have selected the mask when a little white rectangle pops up on it.

when you know you have the mask selected, click command+i or control+i to invert. if for some reason you do not have this keyboard shortcut, just take a brush tool and color over the area in complete black. as long as the magic wand tool is still selecting just the interior of the knight, it should be fine.

now once again, black means a layer will NOT be showing, white means a layer will be showing. so right now after i disable the visibility of the top layer we used as a reference for the silhouette, it looks like:

do not fear the clownery. layer masks are great because they are always non-destructive. meaning that even if you somehow mess up and your canvas is showing something completely gross, you can always go back and edit your layer mask and your original gif would be unharmed as long as you did not touch any layers in the group, only the mask. simply invert the mask (again, make sure your mask is selected and then command+i or image > adjustments > invert) to get:

for a layer mask that looks like:

you could have also just made a black layer mask to begin with and then inverted the knight outline to be white. many different ways to do the same thing.

another tip: if you select your outline and then click layer mask upon a group or layer with no mask at the current moment, it will automatically make a layer mask with your selection as white and the unselected pixels as black. this is normally how i do my cutouts, because it’s a time-saver even if it like. saves a few seconds max. but i typed out the above for explanation and clarity, so hopefully i didn’t just make anyone more confused.

anyway.

now say you don’t like where the cutout abaddon is positioned. layer masks can also be linked or unlinked, depending on the little link icon you see between the group and the layer mask in the image above. if the icon is visible, the layer mask and the group are linked. if you cannot see the link icon, they are unlinked.

linked layer masks will move in conjunction with the group if any type of transform is done upon them. if the group moves, the layer mask also moves. but if a layer mask is unlinked, you can move the mask and the group independently of one another. for instance, i can change where the cutout is located on the overall canvas of the gif by simply moving ONLY the layer mask (and thereby changing where the blacks and whites of the layer mask occlude the cutout gif contents). but i can also transform the cutout gif layers without changing where the overall outline is located relative to the canvas itself. basically, i can transform the interior contents of the cutout independently. so here (make sure all of your frames are selected):

group unlinked. i’m also making sure that now i am selecting the GROUP (ie. the frames of the layers you are actually going to move) and not the layer mask. you can tell because the little white rectangle around the layer mask can no longer be seen.

now i can transform/adjust the contents of the cutout solely “within” the cutout, and i don’t have to worry about changing where the cutout is located in relation to the overall gif. when transforming, make sure all the frames of your gif are selected. like select the whole group and not just an individual layer, basically.

i’ve seen a lot of how to combine and cut out gifs tutorials on this website, and here is a really good one that i know sully also used <3 big shoutout to all the photoshop queens being inspired by each other!! however i haven’t seen anything that mentioned the linked vs. unlinked layer masks, which i really feel like deserves a shoutout. you don’t have to crop your gifs out perfectly every time, you can always adjust them later. for demonstration, i’ve positioned abaddon in a few different positions with an unlinked layer mask.

step 5: creating the outline

so in order to emphasize the shape of the cutout (the knight), i simply delete the white space surrounding the picture of the knight in the original silhouette that i used. magic wand tool + delete. you can also make a new layer, then paint bucket tool it. many ways to do the same thing.

now with only the knight on a transparent background, i double click the layer to pull up the effects. select outer glow. i used these settings:

when you are doing this, make sure you are on frame one of the frame animation and the “propagate frame one setting” is selected, otherwise you might end up only applying the effect to one out of your many frames, which blows.

then i go change the fill setting to 0%, BUT i leave opacity at 100%. fill is basically like opacity, but it doesn’t affect layer effects (whereas opacity does). so you basically get only the outline but not the black. you can also set the blending mode of the layer to screen and get the same effect, etc, etc. feel free to adjust however you see fit, in addition to the outer glow settings.

i move this layer over a couple pixels to give it the little offset effect, but you don’t have to.

step 6: adding the text

okay the two fonts i used are avenir and perla. i think a LOT of gifmakers use them because they’re really pretty.

i make TWO different text layers, one with avenir in a smaller size and one with perla in a bigger size. this is because for the perla one, i’m going to be changing the blending mode whereas i don’t want to be changing the blending mode for the smaller text. i position the text where i want it to be and make sure the perla font is in the color i like:

then i change the blending mode of the fancy text (perla) to difference. ONLY that layer, and again make sure to check “propagate frame 1″ and make changes on the first frame to apply the change to all of your frames.

but i still don’t think it produces enough of a difference. so i right click on the text layer for knights of hell, and then go to: select pixels.

then i click the curves adjustment layer. this will automatically make a curves layer with a layer mask that occludes everything BUT the area you selected. beautiful. i drag the curves around until i get enough of a difference that i like. normally i make the lights lighter and the darks darker. yeehaw.

again there are sooooo many different ways to achieve the same effect on photoshop. this is just want comes easiest to me, and it’s totally okay if you find a different way that works better for you at producing the contrast you want or the colors you want.

step 7: export and cry

NOW you can convert everything to a video timeline, put your video frame layers to smart objects, and then apply your finishing sharpening filters. export, cry, and hope tumblr compression doesn’t screw you over.

hopefully this was helpful! pls like... idk support my edits if you found this helpful or reblog this post. feel free to dm me about how u do some of the text effects as well bc i’m always trying to learn new things and i am by no means an expert on like. any of this.

aria please go write your fucking thesis before i delete this entire tutorial challenge. :D

#subtledean #THIS IS FOR YOU #I FEEL LIKE THIS TUTORIAL HAS MORE WORDS THAN UR THESIS ATM SO!!!#tutorials #mine #idk what to tag this but PLS pls pls feel free to talk to me abt ph*toshop #or ask for help or point me towards other tutorials <3 #shoutout to sully too its in there somewhere #resources #100n #ps

190 notes · View notes

cherryblossomtease · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 15

18+ only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Because sometimes all you need is a simple reminder of who started this mess in the first damn place 💜

Warnings : as always 18+ only please- dom Zemo, sub Bucky, sub reader, punishment, m/m, m/m/f, light bondage

Authors Notes: Really didn't think I would be posting this weekend but it's a holiday in the states so why not! Still working on the rest by you know, neglecting everything that matters to create this fictional world. Anyhow, I can honestly say this is by far the most graphic story I've written so I'm a little nervous but it's already done, can't change it now, and I honestly don't want to! That said I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing!

Nothing lasts forever, especially when it’s this good. And this fabricated reality is about as good as it gets. Still, you know this boat will dock soon and goodbyes will be said. There’s really no way around it, try as you might to come up with a plan to talk Bucky into staying. Even now as you fight to stay asleep, your brain is working hard to create a solution while you refuse to give into your worries so early in the day.

You turn onto your stomach ignoring the dark thoughts, choosing instead to enjoy the feel of a strong arm across your back and a leg, hairy and heavy over both of yours.

Settling again with a content sigh, sleep starts to pull you back under. Thank the stars. You really aren’t in the mood— even if your dreams apparently are.

And what had you been dreaming about anyway?

A little house on a wide cliff overlooking water, and something else? The harder you try to remember the more you feel yourself slipping back into that dream space.

There was a small animal. What was it? A rabbit? Its fluffy body too close to the edge of the cliff. But in the dream you’d stayed standing in the doorway of the little house too indifferent to go and save it….

You feel bodies moving lazily, a stream of breath along your back that tickles; arms and legs and the men they belong to not fully awake and starting to stir like you, even as you quickly slip back into sleep until you’re standing in the doorway of that house again with the warm winds on your face and a view of the French sea below. The drop is dangerous. Deadly even.

Why haven’t you started talking Bucky into staying yet? Because you don’t like thinking about it too much. That's why. You start walking towards the edge of the cliff and you’re fully aware of your worlds crossing over —real thoughts present in your dream.

It’s probably bad luck to resent good deeds, after all that’s what he’s leaving you for. He wants to go off and live the life of the hero he never got to be. That and to keep Zemo’s location safe; but that’s besides the point. Hmm… Look at me, selfish even in my dreams. You smile when you shouldn’t.

Staring over the edge of the cliff it’s suddenly clear how unstable the ground is here and you gasp as it crumbles beneath your feet without warning.

Your eyes open with a start.

Well, that was a bit on the nose. Your subconscious does like to lay it on a thick sometimes, especially when you continue to ignore the things bothering you for too long and you've been setting these feelings aside since the text came through.

But just as quickly as you’re left to shake the shadow of the eerie dream, your frown fades replaced by a slow smile.

There is a very familiar poking at your ass that can sometimes be annoying-- this morning it’s welcome. You reach back and feel for the body that the greeting belongs too, comforted by the warmth and solid muscle of Bucky’s thigh under his tight boxers.

Mmmmm, the source of my distress and my desire, you think and grin into the pillows with a soft moan when his hand, hot and strong takes hold of your hip, massaging as he presses his erection into you.

You’ll talk to him about your dreams later.

Feeling a draft where there should be warmth, you open an eye to find breaks of sunlight in the space between Helmut’s arm and torso. When you turn your head you’re met with the sight of his bare chest, broad and covered in the softest dark hair. His necklace hangs off center, and you, as always, are helpless to it.

Your hand leaves Bucky’s thigh and your fingers slide over the delicate links in the chain and down into the soft chest hair as you turn your head to find he and Bucky locked in one hell of a kiss for so early in the day. It must have been their movement or the sound of their lips that woke you and pulled you from the doom of your fatal fall.

Dreams are so strange…

Your heart flutters when Helmut lays his hand over yours pressing it tight to his chest. “Good morning love birds.” You snicker and watch Bucky pull away from Zemo looking a little embarrassed. He does pause to kiss your cheek however before getting out of bed with a long stretch.

“So where the hell are we anyway?” He asks going to the balcony door, looking out at the passing waves. “Feels like nowhere.”

Zemo is looking down at you, stroking your profile, kissing your nose. “We should be well within the middle of it actually.” He answers, eyes still fixed on you.

“Perfect” You say softly letting him pull you so close that he blocks out the light as your lips meet.

“Breakfast is ready sir,” Oeznik calls from outside the bedroom door.

Zemo grumbles at the interruption but you’re starving. “What? I’m not going anywhere” You huff turning away, trying to escape. “You just said so yourself. I've got no place to go.”

“All by design” He smiles and lets you get up, giving your ass a smack as you go. Bucky is watching from the doorway and laughs at your yelp-hop-rub combination.

Swearing under your breath you go over to the closet, grab your silk robe and pull it on over your shorts and tank top, yawning as you drag your feet over to Bucky. You pat his stomach, kissing him quickly. “Hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Lets go up.” You say tugging at him as Zemo gets up and puts on his own robe across the room. It’s not the thick one you liked from before the raft, but silk like yours— Tom Ford if memory serves— god his influence is strong. How the hell do you remember this stuff?

You watch him scratch at the back of his messy nest of hair like he always does in the mornings, somehow looking both sexy and adorable, alternating between the two with the ease of flicking a light switch. You can only smile at the enigma that is Helmut Zemo and pull Bucky away from the doors.

The three of you leave the room shuffling along, making your way down the hall to the den. Zemo trails you and Bucky accepting a small espresso from Oeznik as he watches the way you and your Sergeant interact. Neither you nor Bucky are necessarily morning people and though it’s nearly ten, you’re both somewhat irritable now that you’re actually moving around and slightly hungover from yesterdays sangrias as you make your way up to the top deck where breakfast will be served.

The sun is so bright you huff about not being able to find your sunglasses and Bucky accuses you of being a diva. The only appropriate reaction is to give him a shove.

Zemo snorts a laugh at your near sibling like banter which you’d established after so many months together, but once you find your glasses on the bar counter and get a fresh cup of coffee and a bloody Mary chaser in your body you’re feeling like a new woman ready to conquer the day… a day spent doing nothing really.

It’s all so casually decadent that it’s nearly sinful. Whats the one? The sin that doesn’t sound as good as lust but feels better after all that fornicating you’ve been doing— Sloth? Yes, you think reaching for what’s left of your blood Mary from the lounge chair, the ultimate of all the sins. Thou shalt not be a lazy ass sloth all day on your yacht.

Cheers.

You read on the deck for a while, play a few rounds of shuffle board with Bucky by the pool and attempt to best Zemo at chess in the den.

Lunch is wonderful, and you think you will need to meet this mystery chef at some point before the trip is over followed by a nap on the bedroom balcony.

When you wake up in the very late afternoon you venture down the hall with your book and unexpectedly find the men in your life moaning on the floor of the den in a tangle of beautifully tanned arms and legs. So you very quietly slip past, feeling a flush rise up your neck to your cheeks highlighting your wide but tight lipped smile.

You stay above decks giving them privacy feeling only the slightest twinge of jealousy. Not because you think you’ve been excluded but because you could use another session like last night.

A shiver runs deep in your belly thinking of the way Helmut brought you to climax, but you’re still more than happy to give them time alone. After all, you’ve had the Baron to yourself for far longer than Bucky.

You sink down onto the upper deck sofa, the image of them entwined, the sounds of their heavy breathing and Bucky’s near innocent moans enough to make you consider touching yourself but you wait, letting the urge build, one of them if not both will take care of you later.

So when Bucky comes up and finds you with a funny look on his face you’re completely confused. “Whats wrong?” You ask putting your book down.

He’s poured a drink and sits down beside you on the couch.

“I don’t know if I can do it.” He says shaking his head tossing back the bourbon.

“Do what?” You have an idea but you thought for sure he’d be eager to try, at least it looked like they were well on their way to his first time.

“Letting him control me, I’ve never had someone tell me no. Not like this.”

“Oh” You smile. It’s the no sex. The lack of it is a cruel form of control but the end results are glorious, if he could just be patient enough. “He won’t let you come?” You ask a little more patronizing than you’d intended.

“No!” Bucky whines taking his cue from you and you stifle your laughter. He’s so cute, even in the throws of his sexual agony. “And it’s making me crazy. I mean I’m already crazy but this is different.” He looks around and leans closer to you. “If you were to so much as look at my cock right now, I’d be done.” He says under his breath.

You let go and laugh rolling your eyes. Dramatics seem to come as naturally as submission to him. “That’s against the rules.” You warn eyeing him sidelong and attempting to go back to your book.

“I can’t take it. Fuck the rules.” He says again pulling the paperback from your hand.

You wave your finger in his face. “James. You’re not allowed.” You say playfully.

“Please.” He begs running his finger down your cheek, brushing your neck and gliding along your clavicle where he knows you’re sensitive.

“I can’t!” You lean away a little surprised by his attempt.

“He won’t know!”

You shake your head “I know but…” You try not to smile.

“I can’t take it.” He insists leaning in to kiss you. “I promise; it won’t take long.”

You give in and laugh sensing his desperation as you kiss. He does feel tense. The muscles of his arm and shoulder are wound tight as a chord. You smile against his lips letting him ease you down onto the couch, your book dropping to the floor as he moans, sliding his hand down your thigh, pushing your knee up and his own hips forward letting you feel what you’re fairly certain is the most rock solid hard on you’ve ever had pressed to your body. You whisper his name as his lips find their way to your neck and his hand slides between you to free himself from those amazing shorts.

“Shame, I had every intention of making your patience worth the effort. But you do love to prolong your torment, don’t you soldat.”

You gasp and Bucky hangs his head as Zemo comes sauntering over. Your laughter is a mix of nerves and feeling like you’ve been caught sneaking around with a boy like a damn teenager. It’s been years since you’ve felt a rush like this. Leave it to the Baron to stir that old excitement again.

“Don’t move” Zemo orders, pointing a finger in your face. You freeze, legs open where Bucky was, your arms tight at your sides. “Sit” He growls at Bucky who obeys begrudgingly as he slides back onto the couch.

Very quickly Zemo shoves your legs closed and grabs you by the arm pulling you up to standing. You lean away as he shakes his head keeping you close, his hold so tight you wince “I thought you knew better by now” He scolds you sounding disappointed.

“I told him not too?” You try looking as innocent as possible. You truly had no intentions of fucking him, but maybe a quick hand job?

There is a flicker of excitement in Zemo’s eyes. It's been so long since you’ve given him a reason to really go for it and you hold in your smile because you’re meant to be sad and hang your head. “I’m sorry Baron.”

He ignores your attempts to apologize and pulls you over so that you’re standing in front of Bucky. He looks you both over for a moment thinking and then smiles. You don’t know if you love or hate to see him looking so pleased. Nothing “good” ever comes of that smile.

“Look James.” He says, waiting until Bucky raises his head. “I want you to see what listening to your eager cock and not my rules get gets you— and her.” He tells Bucky before giving you his undivided attention.

Zemo turns your back to Bucky and you feel his hand between your shoulder blades pushing just a little. You bend at the waist, not all the way, just enough to make sure Bucky knows where his attention should be.

This flouncy little designer sun dress you’ve changed into after your nap only helps direct his gaze as Zemo drags the fabric up slowly so that the reveal of your ass is yet another way to torment him all on its own and you give yourself over to the Baron and wonder how bad this will be.

“Pull them down.” He tells you, his hand smoothing over your simple lace panties. His voice is not so angry as it was when he found the two of you, but every bit as firm, and you glance up at him as you hook your thumbs into the waist band. He nods and you quickly obey, pulling your underwear over the curve of your hips and ass and swear you hear Bucky groan when you bend to pull them from your ankles letting him see the diamond shape of your pussy from behind for just a second, your smile hidden from view.

When you stand again, Zemo offers his forearm. You rest your stomach against him, your hand gripping his shirt, the other you will have to try very hard not to cover your backside with because you know that the breeze will be the last nice thing that you feel.

He tosses your dress back up holding you, adjusting the way he stands just a little so that you are safe but immobile.

“Count them off; to five.” He says leaning just a bit closer. The tone in his voice is confident. Zemo knows that you’re well aware of what this means.

“Yes Baron.” You say exhaling, trying to prepare, but five? Fuck. He does not intend on holding back. If he was being playful he would give you ten or more, but five? He knows you won’t be able to take more that that.

You dig your fingers into his forearm and hold your breath.

The first strike makes you cry out.

The way Zemo can raise his hand and bring it down on your ass is unrivaled. He doesn’t mess around. There is no teasing, no playing, no cute little taps to warm you up. Just instant punishment.

“One.”

Your voice shakes and the rousing heat of adrenaline spreads through your arms and legs.

Again he lifts his hand and brings it down quickly with a stinging force that sends shock waves through your body. Your cry is weaker this time, trailing longer.

“Two.”

You pull his shirt tighter into your fist, your cheeks are on fire already when you feel the air stir as his hand rises again. You wonder if Bucky is watching, you wonder if he see’s how your thighs flex and your flesh shakes when the Baron strikes you.

You close your eyes and draw in your bottom lip trying not to moan, but you arch your back and your hips begin to circle ever so slightly with the anticipation of the next smack. You’re practically whimpering as you offer up your backside for more.

Zemo can feel the light vibration of pleasure sounding in your chest and his laughter is a low, very amused rumble as he raises his hand just a little higher this time.

The next smack lands and you toss your head back with a gasp. You would have gone to your knees if he wasn’t strong enough to hold you up. “Three” You whisper but you don’t move. The air brushes your pussy, wet in spite of your reddening skin.

“Don’t look away.” Zemo says.

There is the answer to your previous question. Bucky likes it, but it’s not always easy for him to watch.

“James!” Zemo snaps and waits. Bucky must be looking again because you feel the Baron move.

The fourth strike comes and you steady yourself knowing you can take it, wanting it, loving it as much as your feel your legs shaking. “Four”

You’re breathing hard, as you anticipate the final blow, desperate for it to be over but sorry for it to end. You rest against him for just a second feeling both safe in his hold and powerless to his dominance.

When the last of your punishment lands you hang your head, rounding your spine unable to offer yourself anymore. You can not pretend and this is why he’s given you so few.

Letting your hips drop as your body shudders and a single tear falls, you whisper, “Five” And only Helmut hears you say it.

Very gently he pulls your dress down, the soft cotton is cool over your burning skin and he turns you around to face him.

He brushes the tear from your cheek, holding you in such a way that you can go limp in his arms. “It wasn’t that bad, you’re just out of practice.” He says smiling at you knowing it wasn’t kind either.

You’d love for him to know just once. Maybe let Bucky give him a slap across the ass to make it fair. But when you look at him the thought is all wrong if not hilarious and you just shrug a little and hang your head again, resting on his chest.

“No breaking rules.” He scolds affectionately, “Even if you’re only trying to help. Understood?”

“Yes Baron.” Your voice is very small.

He gives a nod, kisses your forehead and looks over his shoulder at James. “So, is this what you wanted?”

“No.”

“No… no I don’t think it is.” He agrees. “But I understand. She’s damn near impossible to resist still you must learn to control yourself. Apparently I’ve not made that clear. Perhaps a more direct approach.”

You both look at him wide eyed. What’s more direct than this you think not even close to recovered from your spanking.

“Both of you, go down to our bedroom.” He says as though nothing has ever been more obvious “Take off your clothes. Wait for me on the bed.”

You look at Bucky. He looks at you.

“You fucked up,” You mouth to him.

Bucky just gets up and pushes past you both.

“I suppose you could say I’ve had to get creative with my plans for you. I know that pain is something you can’t respond to in ways that she can.” Zemo says, smiling as he glances down at Bucky and then over his shoulder at you on your knees behind him. “Have you finished?”

You look up from what you’re doing, hoping it’s right. “Yes, I think so?”

He comes around to look at the rope binding Bucky’s wrists. It’s just for show to heighten the experience. Of course Bucky could break free if he wanted to— his strength is no match for a few rough fibers— but this is a training of the mind as well as the body. “You see, pleasure can be just as awful.” Zemo says, his voice making you shiver as he checks your work, tugging and tightening the rope a little more.

Leaning in close, he strokes Bucky’s jaw, his finger reaching to trace the spine of his ear and you smile when the hairs on Bucky’s right arm raise and Zemo loses the air of control for a second simply becoming the man who cares for the other deeply. “The irony of tying you to a chair to satisfy you is not lost on me, based on what I know of your past. But if you can endure it, I promise it will be nothing like the pain you’ve known. I could never hurt you in that way. Still, if at any time this is too much, if it triggers memories that change it from what it’s meant to be, please— James— say the word, your word and it stops.”

Bucky nods. “I will” He says softly.

“Nothing now?” Zemo asks genuinely wanting to know. Bucky shakes his head. “No, nothing.”

Zemo gives a confident nod and kisses the back of Bucky’s head patting his cheek a little harder than he needs too. “I only want to make you feel good— eventually.” He teases and Bucky rolls his eyes with a small laugh.

Pleased, Zemo pushes up and goes to sit in the soft chair across the room, notably more comfortable than the one Bucky has been placed in. Although the more obvious differences being, Zemo is not bound, Zemo is not naked, and Zemo has not been so gently stroked and toyed with that he’s been left with a perfectly vulnerable erection like Bucky has.

You’d had a hard time focusing on the ropes as the Baron made it happen. The way he’d taken Bucky in hand, winding down the length of his sex was in a word, mesmerizing. And when Bucky made that sound, that soft, pleading sound and Zemo stopped — his brow raised with such smug confidence— you wondered who would break first, you or Bucky. He’d quickly brought his hand up with one last tease, his fingers swirling around the curving head of Bucky’s member only to let go as though he’d lost interest.

Bucky’s groan was deep. He was beyond frustrated, but instead of breaking out of his restrains and fucking one of the two of you, he sat there just waiting to be punished for breaking rules in the first place.

He watches as you come and kneel before him, naked yourself as you’ve been told to be. He actually looks slightly scared but mostly curious. His erection is as always flawlessly pretty, arching up and back, smooth while perfectly veined and so inciting.

You only know what it is you’re meant to do to him because you’ve had it done to you before. You figure it’s very similar, only the mechanics are different because his is a man. If Zemo doesn’t approve, he’ll tell you.

The Baron in charge picks up his drink, the ice rattling as he takes a sip and lets the scene settle in his sights for a moment. He likes to see the two of you together, his two helpless things— his to play with and his to love.

“Begin.”

Bucky inhales, but you smile at him to show that it won’t hurt— it’ll just drive him mad.

First you take the little bottle of body oil from the floor and put some in your hands rubbing them together.

He raises his brow watching you and starts to relax thinking he might understand now. You take him in hand and start to stroke, you are after all very good at this. Over and over again, up and down his long, thick shaft, curving your hand over the head of his cock until he moans and rolls his eyes shut. When he opens them he does seem a bit confused by this sudden attention and he flashes a smile because it feels so good. If this is all that’s been planned, he could get used to this sort of punishment.

The room is quiet, there’s nothing but the soft hum of the ship, his breathing and the wonderfully obscene sound of the oil you’re using against his skin as you work faster…

It’s not long before you feel him stiffen and his breath grows quicker, his thighs flex, his hips raise an inch and he starts to moan softly, a staccato sound of pleasure that makes even your heart beat faster. He’s been waiting and suffering through so much you can feel the joy of release seeping into every inch of his body.

“You feel it happening?” Zemo asks softly. “The start, the pressure mounting? You see, she is very good. And she will get you there James, every time— right to the edge”

You yank your hand away and he jerks forward mouth open cock twitching with the start of an orgasm he will not have.

“To the edge” Zemo chuckles. “A cruel punishment for a greedy man who must learn to wait.”

Bucky quickly lifts his head, the realization flashing in his eyes as his chest rises and falls. He looks down at you.

You smile and reach for him again.

“Please” He begs breathless.

“Not yet” Zemo says leaning forward a bit in his seat, the drink in his hand all but forgotten. You notice the ice has long since melted as you wait for permission, watching over your shoulder.

He gives you a nod and you turn back to Bucky.

Wrapping your hand around him again, you feel him so solid he’s like stone. His thighs are flexed, his hips raise up in the chair as you begin to jerk your hand up and down and the light reflecting off the oil makes you both shine like gold.

He moans and you watch the muscles of his abs flex as he feels the orgasm coming on, helpless to it and your skilled hand.

“I’m going to come.” He groans sounding sorry for and drops his hips.

“No, you won’t. I did not say that you can” Zemo says like the villain behind you.

“I can’t it hold back” Bucky pants, his voice is thin he sounds like he very well might lose control and you feel him pulse in your palm. You twist your hand around sliding it down to the base thinking it might help hold him off if your focus is less near the collection of nerve endings.

Zemo stands and comes to you, tapping your shoulder. You let him go with a quick up and down and Bucky’s disappointment is the saddest thing you’ve ever heard.

When Zemo looks down at the wonderfully pitiful sight, Bucky shuts his eyes. “Yellow.” He whispers. “Please, yellow.”

“All right.” Zemo says kindly and gives his head a rub. “Rest”

“Thank you.” Bucky manages.

You stand not caring what Zemo says and kiss Bucky’s cheek.

“You okay?” You ask, your hand on his shoulder, lifting his chin to look at his face.

“Please… don’t, don’t touch me for a minute?” He asks and you give an embarrassed laugh understanding his request. You’re not exactly innocent in his torment.

“Of course I’m sorry I…” Your sentence is cut off.

Zemo has you by the back of your arms and pulls you tight against him. “You, not her.”

Bucky sighs dropping his head.

“I’m still confused. Is, this what you wanted?” He asks feigning ignorance though with you naked its clear what Zemo means.

Bucky won’t look.

“Answer me.”

“No, I mean— yes Baron.” He concedes.

You feel Zemo’s laugh along your neck. “You wouldn’t have been fast enough to finish before I found you. Well, maybe you, but not her. Tell me, how quickly can you make her come?”

“What?”

“How quickly?”

You shut your eyes as soon as you realize where this is going.

“I don’t know. I mean she always got there.” Bucky says sounding slightly self conscious.

Zemo smiles. “Two minutes. I can finish her off in just two.”

“Ha!” Bucky doesn’t believe him, who would.

Oh Bucky…

“Tell him it’s true.” Zemo leans towards you.

You nod glancing at them both. “He does this… thing.” You tell Bucky. “He works my spot and my clit at the same time and I come. Fast.” You say simply and totally helpless to it.

“It’s not always the most fun, rarely my first choice; but great when we’re in a hurry.” He shrugs and takes a knee before you even realize that he has. “Open your legs.” He says looking up at you.

Your eyes go wide, surprised to see him down and waiting with Bucky watching. Still, you part your thighs and wisely lay your hands on his shoulders knowing you won’t be able to stay upright without the support.

“This? Right James? This warm, tight, safe place? This is what you wanted?” Zemo asks, teasing Bucky with the way he slides his fingers between your velvet soft folds. You feel him turn his hand and his finger circles your entrance. He sighs and takes hold of your hip to keep you in place.

Two fingers slip inside and you hiss against the stretch, biting your lip as your head lolls to the side. You try to hold in the loudest of your noise but it’s hopeless.

The Baron starts to do his thing and you wonder if you might be able to deny him the pleasure of making you come in front of Bucky again, but just like always you end up gripping his shoulders to keep from falling as he does a perfect come hither with his two fingers as his thumb rubs with the perfect amount of pressure on your throbbing clitoris. He can’t resist and licks your peak for good measure until you hold your breath as he sucks sloppily and until you come on his hand and just as quickly as always. Your wild moaning is nearly feral but you could not care less. It makes you smile to hear him laugh softly so pleased with himself and you and your eyes shut as you pant, catching your breath.

Lowering your head, your eyes only half open, you both look over at Bucky who is glaring at the Baron.

“James.”

“Yes.”

“Stop breaking the rules.”

“Yes Baron.” He says giving in completely.

Zemo smiles and slowly pulls his fingers free from you, raising his hand just enough to show them so wet and sticky and glistening. He kisses your belly and looks up at you. “Go lie down.” He says rubbing your stomach, smoothing his hand over your soft tuft of hair. You’re still floating as you do, happy to go and rest and leave them to it.

“Would you like to come now?” You hear Zemo ask Bucky as he gets up and goes around the chair.

“Please.” Bucky whispers watching you sink down onto the bed on your side.

“I can finish you off just as quickly as I did her.”

“Yes. Please.” He begs through clenched teeth rising up again as if presenting himself to be relieved, the steady rush of blood to his lower half turning his cock a darker shade of desperate as it rises up like a tower ready to fall. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” He pants “I’m sorry I tried to fuck her. I’m sorry for breaking your rules. And I will do anything, please just… fuck. Please!”

Helmut leans down hushing him, pressing his face close to Bucky’s, grabbing him around the chest as his left hand comes reaching over his stomach promising an end to the day’s long torment.

He grips the soldiers gorgeous, endlessly taunted dick; your natural lubricant replacing the oil to help glide his fingers along.

When Zemo starts to work Bucky you can see through the look on his face that this is all he’s wanted to do for so long and you are reminded that this is as much the Baron’s discipline as it is yours— as it is Bucky’s.

Bucky makes a deep sound that gets your attention. His body flexes and you think he looks like a bomb ready to blow. A sexy, finely muscled, lightly tanned bomb with a look of pained excitement as his legs open and his jaw flexes.

“Are you mine James?” Zemo asks, his lips brushing his ear,

“Yes” He says pitifully raising his hips, thrusting once into the Baron’s hand just as Zemo lets go. A deep frown fixes between Bucky’s brows as he waits until Zemo grabs again and starts to perfectly stroke him.

Bucky’s mouth opens, his eyes fix on the incredibly hypnotic rhythm of Zemo’s hand.

“You’ve always been mine haven’t you?”

“Yes!” Bucky nearly shouts, his brows turned down with the exquisite anguish of the nearing release.

“Say it again,” Zemo demands, his right arm tight around Bucky, his eyes shut relishing in the control and the love, you listen to the wet rhythm as it gets faster.

“Yes.”

“Say it!”

“I’ve always been yours” Bucky moans loudly and glances over at you unable to keep your hand away from your pussy selfishly wanting to come again.

“Once more.” Helmut says opening his eyes. The muscle of his arm is flexed beautifully as he pounds.

Bucky moans so similarly to you that Helmut just smiles. He knows, he understands the hold he has over you both.

“I’m yours” Bucky manages and the Baron focuses his movement as if pulling the orgasm from Bucky’s body willing it to come forward. He jerks his hand up and away…but this time he’s finished the job.

He holds Bucky as the man cries out, his hips rising high this time, his cock pulsing with a tight up and down as he finally —god, finally— gives a high pitched groan with that first explosive release of come that shoots past his stomach and onto his own chest followed by equally satisfying spasms that send milky droplets flying free into the air and across his stomach onto Zemo’s arms; Bucky’s groaning and gasping near tears with the absolute exhaustion and relief of his well deserved climax, his moans and gasps of surprise so raw and unaffected.

By the time he lowers back down to the chair unable to do much more than sit there, limp and panting with his eyes closed, Helmut is holding him, caring nothing for the mess. He seems to love the sight of the pearlescent results of Bucky’s incredible orgasm as much as you do.

Smiling as he strokes Bucky’s hair, kissing his temple, he says with a tone only Helmut Zemo could manage at a moment like this, “You see. When you listen to me, I make it worth every second, every moment of torment. Yes?”

Bucky nods but it’s weak.

Zemo chuckles softly, kisses him again and reaches down easily undoing the ropes.

“Look at you both.” He says trying to sound angry, as if it’s not all his fault. “You can’t come to dinner like this. I’ll run a bath.”

He leaves Bucky and comes to the bed bending over you, his hand so sticky from the combination is heavy on your belly as he kisses your lips. “Hows your ass?” He asks.

“Still on fire.” You say and he winks as he rises.

“Good."

“You’re pretty quiet over there.” Bucky says splashing you from across the large tub. You’ve both been in for a while now after Zemo took a quick shower and left you alone letting you know he’d be up waiting at the dinner table.

Roused from your daydream but still not sure you want to talk about why you’re so quiet, you glance over and shrug.

“Whats wrong? You’re not mad about what happened are you?” Bucky asks sliding a little closer. The tub is surprisingly big in an already large bathroom and yet again you wonder how you’ll return to real life when this all ends.

“What happened?” You ask him.

“Getting you in trouble? He really put a shine on your backside.” Bucky says, a smile breaking through any attempt at being serious.

You sit up surprised to hear that’s what he thinks it could be. “Ha! No. Not at all. That was amazing… god” You tip your head back, the image of Bucky, naked and tired to a chair with Zemo holding him and whispering in his ear will be seared into your mind for life. “I didn’t know you could come that much.” You say, slowly looking back down at him,trying not to giggle.

“Neither did I.” He says practically blushing before he grins. “Same goes for you.” He tosses right back.

You laugh and roll your eyes. “Okay well we both know he’s capable of turning us into sex crazed idiots apparently.” You say with a cheeky grin and Bucky laughs shaking his head with a sigh.

“What is it? Some Sokovian spell or something, magic from the old world?” Bucky says with a thick accent wiggling his wet soapy fingers in the air.

Laughing you scrunch your nose. “Nah, that’s all him. Just wait until you’ve been around him long enough to get to the good stuff.”

“The good stuff!” He looks shocked “Well what the hell is all this!”

“This is amazing, but it not… well it’s not him. Theres so much more than sex. Watching tv. Eating dinner in bed. Naps— once he read to me.” You say with a sigh and the room goes silent as you both slip into a day dream laced with Helmuts beautiful voice surrounding you as he reads the classics on a warm summer night…

“You think he sits around daydreaming about us like this?” Bucky asks with a frown. “I worry sometimes.”

“Really?” You ask looking into his big blue eyes. Hundred years old and still so sweet. “Of course he does. Bucky, he wouldn’t have done any of this if he didn’t spend as much time thinking of us as we do him. Don’t be so naive”

He nods looking out the window and you know he’s just out of practice. He probably had a swarm of girls around him back when his life was normal. Maybe even a secret guy. But how long ago had that been. And since he’d been released from the words, his only real time spent with anyone has been with the two of you. For a moment you wonder if that’s fair. He should go out on dates or something, but then again you did try to get him on some apps. He hated them all. Women swiped right like it was their job of course, but he thought it was strange and wanted to meet them the old fashioned way but when he did he could only focus on what he didn’t like and just compared them to you— and Zemo.

“Hey.” You get his attention again. “I mean it, I’m really not upset about anything that happened earlier. Thanks for being such a rule breaker.” You say with a wink.

“No problem” He laughs as if that was his intention. Bucky’s expression softens as he sits back, the water rocking under the bubbles.

Bubbles. Talk about a diva, is anyone is on this big ass boat it’s him. Two adults having a bath drawn from them; why not throw in the bubbles. You roll your eyes ignoring the way your chest gets tight with the feel of being so adored and loving every second of his over the top ways and focus on Bucky who looks stunning in the bath— your heart sinking just a little.

“So what is it?” He asks unaware of your many distractions.

You look back to the window staring up at the sky for a while. “I’m just… sad.” You say giving in to the truth “I mean, I’m thrilled being here. But I’ve had this idea that I could talk you into staying with us. I keep imagining this life with you and Helmut and I know it can’t happen for so many reasons but I’m stubborn and spoiled. I truly hate not getting my way. So I keep thinking, maybe.”

He goes quiet now understanding, and then you feel his hand on your knee under the water. “I know. I’ve thought about it too. Maybe a little too much. Definitely enough that I’ve almost convinced myself it could work, but no. It just wouldn’t.”

You press your lips hesitant to say in case you might offend him but decide to just go for it. “And you’re sure it’s not just that you miss it? Saving the world and everything? I mean, I can see how it would be appealing— from controlled killer to stoic hero.” You tease gently, wiggling your brows up and down until he laughs a little, probably more annoyed than you’d like, and whatever facade you’d put on crumbles. The look of heartbreak turns your brows down, twisting your face with the agony of losing him. He looks surprised to see you so broken about it and finds your hand through the water.

“Hey hey hey.” He pulls but you’re not in the mood to be comforted. Bucky hates when you don’t let him coddle you, but he knows better than to fight it so he simply answers your question. “Yes.Well. No I mean, it’s nice. But honestly, if you really want to know, I could get used to being domesticated.” He shrugs letting go of your hand as he looks towards the shower where Zemo was and you swallow the tears that have been overpowered by your intrigue.

Managing a laugh at his expense you poke his arm on the rim of the tub. “Really? By me or Helmut?” You ask and swear you see him blush.

“You’ve already proven you can turn me into a homebody, and happy to be there, so —Maybe both?” He shrugs and there is such a tone of possibility in his statement that you’re instantly transported into a world in which the three of you are living happily. Maybe in this Mediterranean paradise, you’ve just come home from the market with ingredients for a dinner that Bucky has asked you to pick up and you help him cook while music blasts in your small but bright kitchen and you dance around until the house smells delicious and you set the table, flirting and toying with one another until everything looks beautiful before rushing to sit just as your Baron comes through the door…

Even here and now sitting in the tub with you, Bucky looks like the sweetest house husband glowing a soft gold in the light of the sun. What you wouldn’t give to be his forever. His his and hers, you think and your chin quivers with the threat of happy miserable tears.

Bucky isn’t oblivious to your hurting but he’s trying to keep strong, he can’t give in to you, not this time. “We’ll never know if I stick around.” He says and your little vision fades “I think I’ve got one visit, maybe two in me before someone notices an avenger hanging around their town and his cover is blown. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. I’d never forgive myself."

“I know.” You say and only realize that your head is down when his hand, which is covered in white bubbles reaches to lift your chin.

“Hey, come one. None of that. We’ve only got a little bit of time. I just want to make the most of it. Give me enough good memories to finally forget about whats left of the bad.”

You smile and nod, blowing the bubbles away before they go up your nose. “Fine.” You sigh and look back out the window hugging your knees. “Buck, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He says only cringing a little when you call him Buck.

“Do you think you might ever love him?”

Bucky freezes. He looks— odd. Uncomfortable. Exposed? You realize very quickly that he already does, even if he’s not aware of it and decide not to push him

“It’s okay. I was just curious.” You say and try to calm him with your smile “We come from very different worlds. Letting myself love a man like Helmut Zemo took little to no effort for me, for you— I know why it might come as a shock. But I think you’ll find, when you do admit it to yourself and to him, he might just surprise you with how quickly he says it back.”

#zemo x reader #bucky barns x you #winterbaron #winterbaron x you #buckybarnes/zemo #tfatws #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #winterbaron fic #baron helmut zemo #zemo #self insert #yacht life #these two #i love them so much #also ouch

43 notes · View notes

joonie-beanie · 4 years ago

Text

The Best Kind of Workout

Pairing: Beelzebub x Reader

Word Count: 5,525

Preview: A simple request from Beel turns into a big issue when you lose yourself to your feelings for him.

"I want you. All of you."

Now the real question is...can you fit all of him?

** Please note that this is a cross-posting **

This chapter was originally posted on 2/22/20 as a part of my “Devil Doms” series on AO3.

It starts out as an innocent request—a text from Beel, asking you to come to the gym and film him. You agree without giving it much thought. You don’t exactly have anything better to occupy your time, and you’d be grateful to get away from Mammon’s constant unannounced appearances in your room, so—you slip on your shoes and exit the House of Lamentation.

Lucifer would have your head knowing that you’re leaving without an escort—after all, not all demons are as nice as them—but Beel had given you a tour of the gym before, and it wasn’t a very far walk.

Within minutes, you’re entering the brightly lit building. It’s not too late—only about 9pm—but not many demons are inside.

Well…it is a Friday, and you suppose that people would rather be out having fun than working out in a gym that smells overwhelmingly like air freshener.

“Y/N,” Beel calls, and you search for the sound—your eyes eventually finding him. He’s stood near a bench press—dressed in a fitted black wife beater, and a pair of baggy sweats. You’re not sure why, but all of the sudden saliva is pooling in your mouth, and you have to remember to swallow. Perhaps it’s because you’ve never seen him in his workout clothes before—his pecs and abs outlined by his top, and his tanned, beefy arms shining with a thin layer of sweat…

“Y/N?” he speaks again, and you blink out of your trance, your eyes finding his. He’s frowning at you, worry in his gaze. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah! I’m fine,” you respond, and hurry over to wear he’s standing. You greet him with a smile—still a little frazzled—and Beel immediately returns it. For a second, he lifts his arms—leaning in as if to hug you—but then he pulls back.

“I’m sweaty. You probably don’t want a hug,” he says, as if saying his thoughts aloud. You’re tempted to argue that you’ll take a hug from him whenever—because honestly feeling his large body engulf you—his scent sticking to your clothes, and his chin resting against your head—is a huge guilty pleasure of yours—but the moment is already gone. Beel has stepped away, positioning himself on the seat of the bench press.

Annnnnddd you’re staring again, enraptured by the simplistic charm he exudes solely by being in his element. His thighs are spread, messy orange hair falling into his eyes—and while the sight isn’t scandalous, it’s just…he’s just…very handsome.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, his hand reaching forward. He grabs your wrist, tugging you to him. You lose your balance slightly, and your hand lands on his thigh, his free arm steadying you by your hip.

“You’re really red…,” he mumbles, releasing your wrist and raising his palm to press against your forehead. His brows are creased in concern once more—his face close—and you feel yourself getting even warmer.

Oh god, what has gotten into you?? Sure, you’ve always thought Beel was attractive, and perhaps had thought about him before in a light that reached beyond friendship, but…why is this happening to you now?!

“I-I’m sorry,” you say, releasing a deep sigh. You press back, separating yourself from him slightly. “I’m fine, Beel, I promise.”

“Truly?” he asks, the warmth of his hand still lingering on your hip. His fingers press into the fabric of your jeans, not allowing you to fully get away—not until he believes you.

“Truly,” you assure him, smiling. He eyes you considerately, as if debating whether to trust you, but after a moment he smiles as well—his touch falling away.

“Good. Do you think you can record me then? I want to make sure my form is okay, and it’d be helpful to have a video to review later.”

“Sure!” you say, moving to pull your phone from your pocket. In the back of your head, there are alarm bells ringing. You’ve just agreed to record Beelzebub working out—how are you going to handle that, when your thirst for the Avatar of Gluttony is finally starting to catch up with you?!

I just need to play it cool, and stick it out, you think to yourself, getting your video recorder ready as Beel positions himself under the barbell. Your eyes flit to the weights lining the bar—multiple huge discs of metal secured on either side. You can’t tell their weight, but you’re sure that it’s a lot. Probably enough to kill you if you tried to lift it.

“Ready?” he asks, and you nod—hitting the red button on your phone screen.

“You’re good to go,” you respond, and Beel presses upward—lifting the barbell from the rack. He lowers it to his chest, and then pushes it up—his face scrunching in concentration as he works under the challenging weight. You keep your eyes glued to your phone screen—hoping that it will help filter the effects that Beel’s workout is sure to have on you—but of course it doesn’t.

The muscles in his arms flex—thick veins tracking up and down his tan skin—and immediately you’re already reminding yourself that you need to breathe. However, that’s easier said than done—your eyes trailing down his arms and settling on his chest—his pectorals rising and falling with each press of the bar.

Slowly, you move around the equipment, filming Beel from different angles—assuming that’s what he wants. At least despite the heat flooding your limbs, you’re still somewhat aware of the task he’s given you.

As you circle him, your gaze rakes down his torso—soaking in the patch of skin that has been revealed thanks to his top riding up. The prominent V of his hip bones has you biting your lip—your breathing picking up slightly, and your eyes travel lower still. Thanks to his current position, with his back pressed flat against the bench and his sweats not leaving much to imagination—his bulge is quite obvious.

You swallow harshly, freezing in place as your thighs press together. Your pussy throbs—heart thumping against your ribs—and you forget about what you’re meant to be doing. Instead, your mind begins to wander.

If he’s that big flaccid, then he must really be packing it when erect. And suddenly—you’re imaging Beel’s cock inside of you—pushing you to your limits as he buries himself between your wet walls—his touches soft despite his large stature. You don’t feel small all the time, but you’re sure he would make you feel petite. Maybe your stomach would even protrude a bit—

“Oi~”

There’s a hand on your head—fingers running through your hair—and you blink back into reality. Beel’s staring at you, eyebrows raised curiously.

“Did you zone out while filming? I put the bar back and you were still standing there, staring off into space.”

“I…,” you attempt to respond, but your brain feels as if it’s short circuited. You’re hot all over—and it doesn’t help that Beel’s fingers are petting through your hair so fondly.

“I just…you look good working out,” you admit, unable to keep the truth from coming out. (Likely because you’re needy beyond measure right now, and actually want him to take the hint.) Despite your efforts to maintain an innocent friendship with Beelzebub, you want him to touch you more than anything. You thrive on his hugs, and any lingering contact, and you crave more.

“Oh,” he responds, apparently not having expected that response. There’s a bashful look on his face, his eyes darting to the side. His fingers slide from your head—but you chase after his touch—catching his hand midair and pulling it back to you. You cradle it near your chest—selfish, and not wanting to let him go.

“I…,” your words escape you, embarrassment flooding you as you attempt to work up the courage to tell him what you want. At seeing your inner turmoil, Beel lifts his hand to cup your cheek—your fingers still gripping his own. Your heart skips a beat when you meet his gaze—a mixture of worry, and…excitement? held in his eyes—

“I want you,” you say, voice almost a whisper. Suddenly feeling a little bold at the admission of emotions you’d been holding onto for too long, you shift your face in his hold and press your lips against his fingers. Beel immediately turns red, his eyes going wide. His mouth opens, but no words come out, and an ache pangs at your heart.

Maybe you’ve just ruined everything. Oh god, you shouldn’t have opened your mouth, what were you thinking?!

Your hands leave him, foot stepping backwards as you prepare to run away, but luckily—Beel’s brain finally digests your words. Before you can get too far, he grips both of your shoulders, spinning you back to face him. A noise of shock leaves you—but the sound is muffled by his lips as Beel drags you into a kiss.

Despite his gentle nature, the kiss is far from soft—your lips feeling as if they may bruise. You feel his tongue drag against the seal of your lips, and a quiet moan leaves you—your body beginning to melt against him. However, just as you begin to lose yourself in the moment, a whistle in the background throws you back into reality.

Your cheeks are flaming, wide eyes scanning across the floor of the gym as you and Beel mutually part. The few demons present are all looking at you, interest clear on their faces—a look of “don’t let us stop you”.

“C’mon,” Beel speaks up suddenly. He grabs your wrist, swoops down to snatch the bag he had brought with him, and then leads you to the door. A few teasing calls follow you out, and you find yourself pressing closer to the Avatar of Gluttony, needing somewhere to hide.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles after a few seconds—his strides long as he leads you up the street. You struggle to keep up, your eyes darting to his face. From the looks of it, he seems a little upset with himself.

“No, Beel, you don’t need to be sorry,” you try to tell him, but he doesn’t respond. He continues to pull you along—the House of Lamentation coming into sight. However, you know that you need to do something before you arrive home. If he sets foot inside, then you’re sure he’ll bury himself in the fridge and attempt to drown out his current regretful feelings with food.

“Beel,” you say again, louder. You lift your other hand and place it atop his—fingers curling against the side of his palm. At the same time, you begin dragging your feet, forcing him to slow down—and after a few seconds, the two of you come to a stop.

Around you, the street is quiet—illuminated by soft lights overhead. Beelzebub still won’t look at you, and you sigh, gently prying his grip from your wrist. Luckily, he doesn’t put up a fight, and you cradle his palm between your own as you step around to face him.

He still looks shy, and guilt-ridden. He had mindlessly kissed you in a public space, in front of others. And sure, you don’t exactly like feeling so embarrassed, but…your words had been what sparked such a reaction from him.

“I still want you,” you admit quietly. Reaching one of your hands forward, you gently rest your palm on the swell of his chest—your eyes lingering on his lips. “It’s…okay, if you don’t feel the same, but—”

“I do,” he interrupts you, his finger cradling your jaw. He leans down to meet you halfway—and you’re once again reminded just how big of a boy Beel is—pressing to your tippy-toes as you lean into him. He’s a little more cautious this time—his lips melding with yours gently.

You sigh at the sensation—your arms lifting to wrap around Beel’s neck as you intentionally deepen the kiss—urging him on. And he takes the bait, slotting his mouth against your own.

With each passing second, you feel the warmth in your belly expand—snaking all the way to the ends of your fingers and toes. At the same time, Beel’s tongue drags against your own, your shared kisses quickly becoming more passionate. His arms wrap around your waist—pulling you against him, but you still feel too far. So, he momentarily breaks the kiss—leaning down to grab the backs of your thighs. A cry of surprise leaves you as he hefts you up.

Beel really is the size of a small tree.

“Cute,” he laughs against your lips, your legs securing themselves around him. You smack your hand against his chest—embarrassed—but he quickly smothers any rebuttal you could have said with his lips. This time, he picks up where you left off—his tongue pushing into your mouth and stealing your breath away. You moan against him—your breasts flush with his chest, and the Avatar of Gluttony has never been so aware of that fact.

However—

“Mm--!” you gasp as you feel something prominently poke against your womanhood through your jeans. Beel pulls back slightly, his cheeks dusted pink.

“I want you too,” he says, as if it isn’t already obvious. Your heart thrums at his words, and you cup his face in your hands—pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Maybe we should get home, then.”

Beel nods, and your eyes widen as out of nowhere, his horns appear on his head. Without hesitation, the sixth born jumps into the air, and you hold onto him for dear life—even as he shifts you so you’re being held in his arms bridal style.

“Gosh, I forget you can fly,” you breathe, watching his wings flutter behind him. Beel only chuckles, his head ducking down to nuzzle at your neck. You shiver, his tongue lapping over your skin.

“You taste good,” he mumbles, his teeth nipping at your throat, and you fight to keep from whining.

“Beel, just—wait, till we’re inside, please,” you beg, your fingers running through his hair. You swear you hear a small disappointed grunt, but nonetheless Beelzebub listens—his attention refocusing on getting you back to the House of Lamentation.

As you approach, Beel goes not to the front entrance, but instead circles around the large mansion until he finds the window he’s looking for. The glass pane pushes open without trouble, and when you send him a curious glance—his feet touching down on the upper balcony of the room he shares with Belphie—Beel shrugs.

“Belphie keeps a window open in case he ever needs to sneak out.”

Honestly, a part of you is curious to know where the hell Belphie needs to be sneaking off to, but right now, that’s not your priority. No, currently, you want nothing more than to quench the throbbing ache that has settled between your legs.

“C’mere,” you say, grabbing Beel by his collar. You drag him into another messy kiss—your other hand sliding down the hard planes of his stomach until you find what you’re looking for. A guttural sound bubbles up in Beel’s throat as your fingers trace the outline of his cock—the hard member trapped within the confines of his sweats and underwear.

Oh god, he’s huge, you realize, and the thought that you may not be able to fit him (while to some may seem scary) has your already soaking panties becoming even wetter. You want to feel him inside of you—stretching you out and filling you in all the right ways. Even if it hurts, even if tears wet your eyes, and you feel like you may split.

“No fair. I want to touch you too,” he mumbles, his hands dropping to your waist. He grabs the hem of your shirt—forcing you to break the kiss as he tugs the fabric right over your head. You flush red, but Beel is nice enough to even the playing field—dragging his own shirt off of his torso. It drops onto the floor beside your own, and you immediately reach forward—your fingers dragging the length of his abs.

“You really were made in heaven,” you whisper, and Beel’s face goes red at your praise—his dick twitching within its confines. He doesn’t know what to say—so he doesn’t bother responding with words. Instead, he cradles your jaw with one hand—his mouth settling against the opposite side of your neck. He begins biting and sucking at the soft skin, and your knees feel weak. A whine leaves you—one of your hands moving to grip his hair, while the other sinks down to the waistband of his sweats.

Your fingers sneak beneath the layers of fabric, and Beel breathes a shaky, hot breath against you as your digits curl around his length. He’s thick, and hard—your hand too small to encompass his girth—but to Beel, any amount of friction feels like a taste of paradise.

As you slowly stroke him—tracing him from base to tip—the Avatar of Gluttony continues his feast on your neck. His tongue traces along your collarbone, teeth nibbling every so often, and you tug at his hair—a whine caught in your throat.

“Beel,” you pant, and you feel his member twitch in response to your breathless tone. His touch slips from your face—his palm moving downward and splaying against your breast. He frowns when he realizes your bra is hiding the soft mound from his touch, and quickly moves to slide the strap from your shoulder. Once he’s done so, he shoves his hand beneath the padded cup—your nipple slotting between two of his fingers as he gives the flesh a squeeze. You gasp—your hand tightening around his length—and Beel retaliates in turn.

He rolls your nipple between his fingers—his sharp canines scraping against your skin as he gives your shoulder a playful bite. The action sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your womanhood, and you moan, your knees buckling.

Beel is quick to steady you, his arm moving to wrap around your waist. He rears back, glancing down at you—flushed pink and eyes blown out with lust—and knows that he won’t be able to control himself much longer.

“Let’s get somewhere more comfortable,” he says—an edge to his voice. Beelzebub bends down, as if he intends to pick you up once more, but pauses. His purple eyes stray to look at your bottom half—your legs still hugged by a pair of jeans, and he frowns.

“But first, I want to get you out of these.”

His fingers pop open the button on the waistband, the zipper following soon after, and you think your heart may beat right out of your chest.

“I-I can do it!” you say, bending over to push the fabric down your legs. Beel frowns, wanting to have continued undressing you himself, but as you fold yourself over—attempting to step out of your pants—you reveal your back to him. And, in turn, the clips of your bra, which is also still frustratingly in place (well, sort of).

So, the Avatar of Gluttony makes quick work of un-securing your bra—the undergarment quickly sliding down your arms and falling to the floor just as you finish stepping out of your jeans. Your eyes go wide in shock—the hot air between your bodies breezing across all of your freshly revealed skin.

“That’s better,” Beel smiles—a playful laugh sneaking past his lips. He reaches down and tosses you over his shoulder as if you weigh nothing. You squeal, one of his hands securing you around your waist. The other rests on the inside of your thighs, but as Beel makes his way to the spiral staircase that leads down to the main area of the room, you feel his fingers brush up against your panties.

You bite your lip, your fingernails pressing small crescents into the skin of his shoulder blades as Beel moves the crotch of your underwear aside. A single digit pushes between your wet walls.

“More,” you breathe almost instantly, your hips wiggling in his hold. Beel listens faithfully, adding a second. He begins to work you open slowly—your juices rushing over his skin and a quiet moan leaving you. Beel curls his fingers as he fucks you—your legs jolting when he finds your sweet spot, and he grunts happily in response.

With each step down the stairs, his cock bounces within its confines, and Beel desperately misses your touch, which had granted him some relief. You’re so small in comparison to him, and he doesn’t want to hurt you, but he’s also aware of what you desire. So, he presses a third finger inside of you—your breath hitching as your pussy finally begins to feel the stretch.

“Too much?” he asks, stepping from the staircase. His eyes scan the room—he hadn’t even considered checking to see if Belphie was in—but luckily there’s no sign of his brother.

While Beel isn’t as greedy as Mammon, and doesn’t usually mind sharing, right now he wants you to himself.

“No,” you respond, shaking your head. Your toes curl as his long digits press all the way inside of you. “It feels—ah—really good.”

Beel steps beside his bed, and gently lowers you to the mattress—his fingers never leaving you. His gaze rakes down your body—soaking in the sight of your bare torso, and the needy look on your face as he thrusts his fingers into you once more. Your pussy clenches around him, and the Avatar of Gluttony leans down to kiss you.

“Y/N, I don’t want to hu—”

“I want you. All of you,” you interrupt him, gripping his face between your palms. There’s hesitancy knitting on his forehead, his lips frowning, and you kiss him again—smiling.

“I want your big dick inside of me, Beel.”

“Mm,” he groans at your words, his finger wetly dragging out of your cunt. You mourn the loss, eyes tracking Beel as he finally reaches to his hips, pushing his sweats and underwear down his thighs. His cock springs free, and your tongue darts out to wet your lips.

As Beel rids himself of his remaining clothes, you sit up—reaching out. Your hands enclose around him—two hands needed to cover the entirety of his girth. Beel releases a shaky sigh at the feeling, his palm resting against your hair as you lean in—lapping your tongue against the bead of pre-cum leaking from his slit.

He watches you like a hawk—his fingers rooting in your hair as you continue to kiss and lick at his length. His member throbs in your hold, and a sense of pride settles in your chest. Gathering spit on your tongue, you drag the wet muscle against a prominent vein on the underside of Beel’s shaft, and you’re rewarded with a tug of your hair.

Beel guides your head away, and you glance up, spotting his flushed cheeks.

“Don’t do that,” he says, clearly enjoying it too much—risking that the fun end too soon—and you smile, your touch disappearing from him. It’s then that Beel steps aside, kneeling against the mattress and positioning himself against the headboard. He beckons you forward—holding out his hand—and you take it after pausing to reach down and discard your panties.

He drags you up to meet him, watching as you swing your leg across his body, settling on the upper parts of his thighs. His dick sits curved against his abs, and you reach down, taking it into your hand and holding it up straight. It nearly reaches your navel…

“Oh fuck,” you say, your walls clenching. You press onto your knees—Beel’s hands finding your waist. He lifts you from the mattress, helping position your body over his pelvis. With your grip on his length, you place the head of his cock at your entrance.

Steeling himself, Beel lowers you down—your walls tight around him as he slowly sinks inside of you. You moan at the feeling—your hands moving to press against his pecs to steady yourself. With his hands still guiding you, Beel urges you even further—pausing when your breath hitches—your pussy clenching around him.

“F-Feels good. So big,” you say, reassuring him that you’re fine before he can even think to ask. Beel can see the ecstasy painted on your face, and it drives him forward. He captures your lips in a heated kiss—his tongue stealing your breath away as it enters your mouth. You moan into him—Beel swallowing your sounds as he forces you to take more of his length.

You’ve never been so full before—inklings of pain letting your brain know that it may not be a good idea to venture so deep so quickly—but you’ve never cared less. In this moment, you want nothing more than to wholly be Beel’s.

And besides—there’s nothing wrong with a little bit of pain. In fact, one may argue that it actually makes it better.

“Fuck--,” you pant, breaking the kiss for a much-needed breath of air. Your fingernails have curled into Beel’s skin—nerves on fire as he continues to slowly inch you down onto him. Heat expands throughout your limbs, fire licking at the inside of your stomach as you waver on the border of pain and pleasure. However, when you glance up at Beel’s face and see his pinched eyebrows, his eyelashes fluttering as your tight pussy grips him so deliciously—you’re reminded that this is exactly what you wanted.

Finally, after what feels like forever—but in reality, is likely less than a minute—your thighs brush the inside of Beel’s hips. The head of his cock pushes up against your cervix as he bottoms out inside of you, and you choke on a cry. Beel’s chest rises and falls rapidly beneath your palms. He’s never felt so good in his life—and despite the fact that he desperately wants to buck up into you, he knows he still needs to give you time to adjust.

So, he reaches a hand around the back of your head and guides your body forward. His mouth connects with the soft mounds of flesh on your chest—tongue flattening against your nipple—and your spine instinctively curves—pressing you closer to him.

Beel continues to alternate between your breasts—sucking, lapping, and nipping at the sensitive skin—until he finally feels your hips move against his. The action is slow, and experimental—as if testing the waters—but despite the fact that you still feel as if you may burst, the pain has died down. Now, all that’s left in its place is an overwhelming need for release.

Beel fights to contain himself as you begin rolling your body against his own—your tight, slick walls hugging his dick and dragging him closer to his demise with each passing second.

“Y/N,” he breathes, a plea caught on his tongue, and you move one of your hands to cup his face.

“You can move,” you tell him with a smile, and immediately Beel is wrapping his arms around you—hugging you to his chest. He scoots away from the headboard, his head now resting on his pillows, and you realize he’s aiming for better leverage. However, before you can think to ask if he wants you to adjust your position, Beel begins fucking up into you. You cry out, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you hold onto him for dear life.

“F-Fuck, Beel,” you moan, your breath hot on his skin. Lewd, wet sounds echo through the room with each smack of Beel’s hips, and you feel your legs begin to shake. You’ve never been so full—your walls being stretched out by his cock with each desperate thrust.

His breathing is heavy in your ear—his grip on your torso leaving no wiggle room. You’re subject to whatever Beel is craving—which is apparently a hot and heavy path to release—and you don’t even mind. Each drag of his length between your walls has the coil of pleasure in your gut winding tighter—more and more whines slipping past your lips, and Beel has never heard anything more beautiful.

“Aah--!” you cry when he adjusts his angle ever so slightly, his cock brushing up against your g-spot. Immediately you’re seeing stars, body going limp in Beel’s hold. He feels your arousal dripping down his member and onto his thighs. You’ve gotten so wet for him that he never should have worried about you not being able to take him.

“Y/N,” he groans, unable to help himself. Your pussy is swallowing him so deliciously, he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to last like this. Thankfully, you’re getting close—little chants of “Beel” “close” “please” reaching his ear.

Beel feels your pussy begin to tighten around him—your spine curving in his hold—and he knows this is it.

“Fuck,” you moan, tears appearing in your eyes as the pleasure surging throughout your body suddenly overwhelms you. Your teeth latch onto his shoulder—a desperate attempt at keeping yourself from screaming—and Beel’s rhythm stutters.

“Shit,” he breathes, beginning to lose himself, but you beat him to the finish line. With a muffled cry, you come undone around him—your pussy latching onto Beel’s cock as your orgasm swells into every inch of your body. The increased pressure on his length forces the Avatar of Gluttony to his bliss as well—shallow breaths fanning against your hair as he empties himself inside of you.

For a moment, the two of you are still—simply trying to catch your breath as you begin to come down from your highs. Then, you feel Beel’s softening length slip from inside of you—his cum leaking from your pussy—and your eyes go wide. You look up at him, face bright red, but Beel only smiles.

He presses himself up into a seated position with one arm—the other still intent on not letting you go—and then slots his lips against yours. You melt into the kiss—soft, and tender, and just what you need.

“I really enjoyed that,” you tell him, lifting your hands to cup his face.

“Me too,” he says, leaning in to kiss you again. However—

Grrrrrrrrr

You and Beel both pause, looking down at the space between your bodies. Beel moves a hand to settle against his stomach.

“Oh, I guess I haven’t had anything to eat since before I went to the gym.”

“I’m surprised you’re still alive,” you snort, and Beel chuckles—swooping in to kiss you once more before his hands find your waist and lift you off of him.

“Do you want anything from the kitchen?” he asks, scooting off the bed. You watch him as he grabs his sweats from the floor, slipping them back on over his legs. You realize from his question that he fully expects you to spend the remainder of the night here, with him, and your heart flutters.

“I’ll snack on whatever you bring back,” you tell him, and Beel nods. Not bothering to put on a shirt, the Avatar of Gluttony heads to the door. Within seconds, you’re alone in the room, and you move to the edge of the mattress. You press your feet to the ground, gasping when your legs wobble—threatening to give out.

He really fucked me so good that I can barely walk, you think, cheeks pink. Your eyes turn to the spiral staircase. You had been intending to go upstairs and get your clothes, but you don’t want to risk tripping and hurting yourself.

So, instead you cautiously make your way to Beel’s dresser. You dig out a long t-shirt, and then head into the bathroom. After cleaning yourself up, you return to the main room—Beel’s clean shirt covering your torso.

You’ve just replanted yourself on his bed when the door clicks open. Your gaze turns up, expecting to see Beel standing there with a mountain of food in his arms, but instead you find…Belphegor.

He’s frowning at you, suspicion in his gaze. His eyes rake around the room, pupils narrowed.

“You’re wearing Beel’s shirt,” he finally says.

“My clothes were dirty,” you counter. Belphie cocks an eyebrow—a grin tugging at his lips.

“Okay. Then explain the hickies on your neck, and why the room currently reeks of sex.”

At that…you can only turn red, and Belphegor sighs. He opens his mouth, as if to complain, but then pauses. His eyes widen, gaze raking over you once more.

“…you fit him?”

And now, you really think you might die of embarrassment.

#om!#obey me #obey me fic #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub x mc #beel x mc #beel x reader #obey me beelzebub #beel smut #beel fic

1K notes · View notes

peaceoutofthepieces · 4 years ago

Text

Tracing Time

This discusses the hate crime in s3 (and the homophobia plotline in sos).

Thursday, 02:26

Song: IAMX - Insomnia; Crywolf ft. EDEN - Stomach It

He’s going to break that clock.

It’s usually not something that bothers him. Sometimes he even finds it soothing, counts the ticks to help him sleep. Now it’s too loud, occupies too much space, and taunts him with how late it is and how much he’s going to regret this tomorrow. Even though it’s out of his control.

He stuffs his face further into his pillow and makes himself take a deep breath. When that doesn’t work, he takes another. Then one more. And another.

He gets up, climbs so that he’s standing on top of his bed, and takes the clock off the wall. He pulls out the batteries from the back, careful not to let them drop and roll away, and there. Peaceful, beautiful, blissful silence. This time his deep breath works, sending a wave of relaxation all the way through him before he climbs down again.

When he crawls back into bed, he’s got his phone in one hand and his key to Robbe’s in the other.

He doesn’t really do anything with either, just sets his phone next to him and lets his hand rest on it and rubs his thumb over the key in the habit he’s picked up. It’s most soothing, even as he feels apprehension and doubt swirl in his chest. Robbe had gone to sleep before Sander even went to bed, messaging him while Sander was still working on his assignment, trying to finish off just that one paragraph. He’d told himself that was enough to be satisfied with, that it would be more beneficial to sleep when he still has two days to work on it. He’d had to take his pills, anyway, and he’d hoped they’d pretty much knock him out, but he hardly even feels as sleepy as he usually does.

Now he just feels like he’s wasting his time. He’s not working or sleeping, and his brain has nowhere to go so it spins in circles.

He's thinking about his assignment, still. Worrying. He’s pretty sure he’ll get it done, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be a load of crap. He’s also thinking about Agathe, telling him he’s doing well. He’s thinking about the woman with the death stare from the cafe. He’s thinking about that talk with Jens, and moving on and doing better.

He rubs over the key too quickly and lets out a hiss as he scratches his thumb. Instead of putting it down, however, he holds it tight in his hand and picks up his phone.

He navigates to Robbe’s contact, first. He looks at their messages from earlier, the usual banter, the sweet goodnight, and he settles a little, allows it to warm him. He could text Robbe, but chances are that the boy is definitely asleep and Sander will wake him up. Robbe’s insomnia had returned with a weak sort of vengeance after the holidays as he stressed about his final ever semester, but he seems to have gotten it under control now. Sander will not disturb him.

He could go through and look at videos or photos or listen to voice notes, bring the remnants of Robbe close enough to feel his comfort. Or it might just strengthen the twinge in his heart.

He finds himself opening Instagram instead, maybe to bore him to sleep, and finds Lucas’s story waiting for him. He’s only shared a song, nothing unusual, but it was also only posted two minutes ago.

Sander’s calling him without even taking time to think about it, but Lucas picks up on the first ring.

“Hi,” he says, voice low and sleepy but curious, the concern thinly veiled. “Can’t sleep either?”

“No,” Sander whispers. “Hi.”

Lucas is silent for a moment, probably waiting for Sander to speak. Eventually, he gives up. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Sander pauses. “No? I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Lucas says. “I’ll wait.”

Well.

It’s not Robbe, but it’s the next best thing, maybe. It’s the perfect thing to say, to do. Because Lucas won’t push, but he won’t leave. He’ll breathe in Sander’s ear and wait. Sander takes the time, because he knows, is sure, that it really is allowed, and without the incessant ticking it doesn’t feel as long, anyway. Even when he’s silent for what must be a few minutes, Lucas stays silent, too. Keeps waiting.

“Are you scared of Jens’s house?” Sander finally asks.

The silence on the other end becomes total, and Sander checks to make sure Lucas hasn’t hung up. But no; it’s just his breaths that have stopped. Sander worries for a brief moment before a sigh emits. “I know you spoke to him.”

Sander takes it for the non-answer it is and points it out as one. “That wasn’t my question.”

“I know.” Their breaths pass to each other silently again. Then Lucas just says, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid. Even now. It doesn’t matter that I know it’s stupid. It doesn’t matter when he’s not there.” He takes a louder breath. “I think I’m just always a little afraid, anyway, though.”

Sander absorbs this. After a while, he just says, softly, “Yeah.”

It’s not that he hadn’t been, even before. Merely meeting Robbe was scary for a multitude of reasons, and kissing him for the first time had his heart pounding, but it was worth it, so worth it. Then he’d had Robbe turn him down, had seen Robbe so hurt and upset by what he’d done, and he’d felt the fear and the horror and the disgust at himself before he realised it was all the same things that had made Robbe so harsh in the first place. It hadn’t mattered, when Robbe came back to him, because Sander had him then and that was all he wanted and he had always understood. Even if he had never struggled with himself quite the way Robbe had, it was still part of his understanding. He’d never really needed Robbe to explain himself to him.

Then Sander had taken Robbe on what he thought would be a perfect first date, and his understanding grew to a whole new level.

And with it comes the fear.

Even though he knows, he knows, that Robbe has only been strengthened, has only grown braver, because of their relationship. Even though he never wishes or feels the need to hide Robbe, never, no matter where and when they might be. It’s still there.

It’s a valid fear, and that understanding fills Sander with such a burning fury that of course he has to fight back against it.

He’s already spent too much of his life fearing too much about himself. He will not fear this, not when it is what allows him his biggest source of happiness.

“Is this about the bar?” Lucas asks quietly. “I know you talked to Jens.”

Sander huffs.

“I’m sorry, if you didn’t want him to pass anything on to me, but he needed to tell me you were the one knocking sense into him. I’ve been meaning to say thanks.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he mumbles.

Lucas hums. “You did. You understood.”

“So I was right?”

“Of course you were,” Lucas laughs, derisively. “You knew you were. I mean, you’re also shockingly wrong, but that’s a whole different point.”

Sander frowns, furrowing his brows, even though Lucas can’t see him. “What does that mean?”

There’s silence for a moment, and then Lucas sighs. “You know it’s not the same. With you guys...it’s not just about Robbe.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not yours either,” Sander says forcefully.

“That’s not what I meant. I know it’s not. I know enough about the guy to know he’s just a dick, and no matter what I did, that wouldn’t be any different. I don’t think you do.”

Sander has a denial ready, but it dies in his throat. He doesn’t have the energy to protest and argue, not with his medication finally feeling like it’s kicking in, and not when Lucas will just see right through him. “I know,” is all he manages to say, hoarsely.

“Do you?”

“I do. But don’t you also think...I don’t know. Maybe if I was thinking more clearly, I would have gotten us out of there sooner, or I could have fought them off—“

“But Robbe couldn’t?”

Sander swallows. This is precisely why he didn’t want to argue, because he knew Lucas would go for all his sense and logic and pick Sander’s points apart at the seams. Sander doesn’t have any retorts prepared.

“Sander, I get how you feel, but you know he wants to protect you too, right?” Lucas asks softly. He gets even quieter as he continues. “You know you were hurt, too.”

“This woman gave me a weird look today, when I was at the cafe with Robbe,” Sander tells him. “And I was just so relieved she didn’t actually say anything and he didn’t see.”

Lucas lets out another breath, and there’s a rustling of sheets. “I wouldn’t tell him, either.”

Sander lowers his voice to a whisper. “Why doesn’t it matter how long it’s been? Robbe and I go back to the bar all the time now, and it’s fine, it doesn’t bother us.”

“But you don’t have to be there to think about it, so it bothers you anyway, at the most random times.”

Sander closes his eyes.

“It’s okay, Sander,” Lucas murmurs.

“I told Robbe not to go to the police. That they’d never catch the guys, that shit just happens. Like it was nothing, like we just have to get over it.”

“I’m sure he knows that isn’t what you meant.”

“No, but he doesn’t know what I did mean. He doesn’t know that I didn’t want my dad to be taking our statement and know about another way that I fucked up. I didn’t want to have made another mistake, I didn’t want it to be my fault for finding trouble, I—“

“Sander, stop,” Lucas says sternly. “I can hear your voice cracking. You need to breathe, okay? Take a minute. It’s fine.”

Sander struggles to obey, abandoning his rant to take another deep breath, like he’d always been taught. Lucas doesn’t say anything, but his own breaths seem to get louder. The steady rhythm filters into Sander’s ears and eases its way towards his lungs. He closes his eyes, but his mind is still conjuring too many unpleasant images, so he opens them again and looks for something to focus on in the dim, moonlit room. He settles on the photographs framed on his nightstand. One from when he was a child, both his parents next to him, and the other much more recent. That first afternoon he’d spent in Robbe’s room, the two of them locked away in their bubble, talking about universes and films and thoughts. Well over a year ago, now, and he still remembers it so clearly. Robbe’s arms draped around his shoulders, kissing the top of Sander’s head while Sander pulls a stupid face. Robbe so caring, so indulgent, even then.

“That’s better,” Lucas speaks up again.

Sander lets out a shaky sigh. “Sorry.”

“You never talk to anyone about how much it affected you, do you? Aside from the first time you told me about it, you don’t let yourself be upset.”

“It’s Robbe,” Sander says, somewhat hopelessly, unsure that he’s making any sense at this point. “How could I not love him? What’s so bad about it?”

“Nothing,” Lucas says, sure and steady. “Nothing at all, Sander.”

A tear Sander hadn’t even noticed was building slips down his cheek, and he lets it, waits until it seeps into the pillow before wiping the dampness from his skin. They both stay quiet, but the simple presence of his friend is enough to be calming. He’s somewhat glad he hadn’t called Robbe, though he longs for nothing more than to go to him, and the key still tucked in his fist is enough permission. But he doesn’t want to talk to Robbe about this, not anymore, not again. Not when it could do harm rather than good, could bring sadness without any relief.

It’s a relief, to tell Lucas, who understands but won’t be hurt by it in the same way. Who knows Sander almost as well and has been in a similar position and who won’t cry just because he does.

“You never told your parents about it, did you?” Lucas asks. It’s not judgmental, but it’s clear he knows the answer already.

“Would you have, if you didn’t have to for Jens?”

He hears Lucas’s soft huff. “Probably not. But that doesn’t mean I’m not glad that they know.”

“It’s not the same, though. You didn’t lie to them about why you came home beat up. You didn’t have to.”

“No. I was lucky, I know that. But that could just mean I’m a lot more to blame for what happened to us than you are for such a random, hateful attack. I lied to my dad, too. He didn’t know Jens and I were together, and if I hadn’t been at his house, his dad would never have found out. Or at least, it might not have been as shockingly bad.”

“No,” Sander argues, again, but it’s difficult with Lucas using his own logic against him.

Lucas sighs; Sander can picture him shaking his head. “Maybe if I’d told dad earlier, Jens wouldn’t have had to run off, and I wouldn’t have felt so shitty. But I know even if I’d never brought it up, it would still feel like a relief to tell him today.”

Sander purses his lips, and doesn’t say anything.

“You can be upset, or angry, or hurt, or whatever you want. And you can talk about it. That’s how you move on, Sander.”

“Robbe and I have already talked about it so many times,” Sander sighs. Then he admits, “But never like this.”

Lucas hums. “He’ll understand, better than me. And he can handle it just as well. You know that. But thank you, for telling me. You always can.”

“I know,” Sander mumbles. Somewhere in the past couple of minutes, his eyelids have started drooping. “Thank you.”

“Did it help? At all?”

Sander presses into his pillow and lets out a breath. “Yeah. I actually think it did.” It hasn’t really changed anything, he knows, and it’ll come up again eventually no matter how much he tells himself it’s in the past and he’s moved on. The weight of the memory isn’t gone, but it feels lighter, somehow. Like admitting it’s not okay is starting to make it so.

“Good.” He can hear the smile in Lucas’s voice. “Are you falling asleep now?”

Sander can’t do much more than hum.

Lucas laughs quietly. “Okay. Get some rest, dumbass.”

“Are you okay?” Sander thinks to ask. “You were up, that’s why I called.”

“I’m going to sleep now, too,” Lucas promises. “I think you helped me as well.”

“Okay,” Sander sighs. “Night, Luc.”

“Bye, Sander.”

Sander waits a moment even after he hears the call run out, then lets his hand slip away from his ear slowly. He sets the phone aside, stretching his arm out to the nightstand, but keeps a hold of the key. He brings it closer to his chest and sucks a breath in, then lets it out, and finally relaxes. He doesn’t have to go to Robbe, he convinces himself. But he can—he really can, any time he wants to, and that’s more than enough.

He’s asleep in seconds.

~^~

previous/next

#wtfock #sobbe #sander driesen #lucas van der heijden #sander season #tracing time #idk if i like this clip so it’s being posted in the middle of the night 🤪

47 notes · View notes

writerwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Yuánfèn | 02

Ch. 2: Retrouvailles: “An overwhelming feeling of happiness caused by seeing someone after a long separation.”

Summary: When you’ve lost everything and try to run away from your problems, you keep finding a way back to the one person who completely understands. Can you make another person happy with a broken heart?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Chapter Word Count: 3.3k Chapter Warnings: Smut - 18+ Only - Minors DNI, male masturbation, one night stand mentioned but not detailed, slow burn, grief, fluff

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist | Complete Masterlist

The first week Steve took it slow, only texting you when you texted first or if he hadn’t heard from you at all. He’d taken your advice, balancing his time between preparing the team for another altercation with the Maximoff twins and finding out as much as he could about them. It was a welcome distraction from the lack of news on his hunt for the Winter Soldier. Natasha was the only one that seemed to notice that he would periodically glance at his watch or his phone and go quiet for a moment before getting back to work. When she finally cornered him, he felt like he should have seen it coming. Arms akimbo and eyebrow quirked, she called him out with no hesitation, “You’ve got a secret.”

“Don’t we all?” Steve could immediately feel the regret in challenging her, busying himself with packing up his bag to head to his room and shower after a long morning of training. Nat didn’t hesitate to follow suit, tagging along with her own bag as she took long strides to keep up with him, even slipping into the elevator before he could. “How’s the search for the Maximoff twins going?”

Nat stood in front of the panel before he could select a floor. “Who have you been texting? Finally ask that SHIELD agent out, Sharon, or is the moping about a certain fossil?” She raised an eyebrow, her fingers tapping her arm impatiently.

Sighing, Steve reached behind her and hit the button. “Neither. I’ve just got a lot on my plate.” Before she could make another snarky comment, he asked. “Clint went home. Did you check in on him?” Though he didn’t use the tone of encouraging her to mind her own business, as he respected the effort she was putting in to build their friendship, he couldn’t help but hope she’d drop the subject.

“Yeah, I’ve checked in. Clint’s good, just like Doc said he’d be. Cho’s kind of a genius and it’s a relief to know that there’s someone that can piece us mere mortals back together when we’re out there saving the world with you.” Steve nodded as he listened, like a captain listening to a report on one of his troops, but his shoulders went ridged with her comment about Dr. Cho. She reminded him too much of Tony and not enough of Dr. Erskine. Luckily, it went unnoticed as she stepped out of the elevator with him and they walked toward their rooms.

There weren’t many memories in Steve’s life, even before the serum, where things simply went black. Taking a beating from his brainwashed best friend was one of them. Steve could picture the metal arm pulling back, the sting of pain as the bones in his face shattered over and over, and could even recall the conversation between swings, but he knew there were moments that were just blank from the concussion- especially after Bucky pulled him from the water. The fading image of him walking away, the ache of being put onto a stretcher, the gentle touch of small hands on his swollen face as the hum of medical machinery tried to pull him back to reality. It didn’t happen for days, but there were moments when he could still hear her talking to him or someone else in the room and always gave his hand three small squeezes before saying her goodbyes.

Steve had been in his head, remembering the music that woke him up and Sam waiting there for him. They’d stopped at Steve’s door, closest to the elevator, and Natasha pretended not to notice how quiet he’d been until she finally added, “Clint’s probably going to take another week before coming back to work, but we’re going out for drinks tonight. Are you thinking about coming with us this time? Might help you clear your head.”

“I’ll think about it.” It was a surprisingly genuine response. He didn’t need to get drunk to have a good time with friends and knew Sam could use the break from hunting a ghost and was itching to see Nat again. There was no doubt in Steve’s mind that if he said yes that Kristen from Statistics would be there and he wasn’t going to open that door, let alone walk through it.

“Aren’t you full of surprises today.” With a slight smirk she kept walking toward her room, calling back, “We’re heading out at eight. Take a nap old guy.”

By the time he was alone in the shower, the idea of going out with the team seemed all the more appealing. Regardless of Natasha still trying to set him up with random colleagues. He was lonely and reaching one of those breaking points of needing to find some comfort to balance out a minute sense of normalcy to his bizarre life, be it good conversation or bad sex. The water cascaded down his toned body and he brushed away the beads of dew and bubbles of soap that trailed down the lines of his muscles before reaching for himself. A part of him that was still very much stuck in the 1940’s hated this need, always feeling some level of shame in finding comfort in the palm of his hand. Typically, these moods resulted in an act of non-sexual frustration, a stress reliever that was easiest to address with his fist and a punching bag.

He told himself that he wasn’t the kind of person to think of someone in particular that way during the solitary act. When he did ‘indulge’, his thoughts had always trailed back to the singular heated kiss with Peggy Carter. But now, with one arm on the tiled wall and the other stroking his length, Steve took an uncommonly slow pace and his mind went to the little things that he’d thought about over and over throughout the week. Small warm hands on his skin, her hand in his. How small would her hands look wrapped around him? How soft would she feel? The smell of her hair and the way she clung to him in a simple hug. Did she know how warm she felt as she held on so tightly to him? Steve gripped himself more tightly, strokes still slow and steady, as he worked out the loneliness with a twist of his wrist. Thoughts passing from little moments and his own stolen glances. The sound of her little hums when she was thinking or satisfied with a solution she’d come up with, how she always bit her lip when she was in a room full of people. Then there was the way she held her breath every time she managed to make eye contact with him as his hands moved over the lace panties she'd passed him to pack. Was she always wearing something like that under her scrubs? Did she do this, think about him getting off to the thought of her in them? The thought of the doctor slipping her hand between her thighs while she wore nothing but lace, scrolling through their messages, and thinking of him finished the soldier off. A long deep groan of her name echoed in the bathroom as he made a mess of the shower wall and floor.

Steve was panting, exhausted but satisfied, as the water washed all evidence down the drain. Slowly, he started to realize what he’d done, but the familiar weight of guilt couldn’t settle in as he realized he wanted something other than a past he couldn’t have. As he dried off, Steve tried to rationalize the thought away, they’d had a nice moment between two colleagues and she was undeniably pretty. It was easy for his mind to drift there, he thought, to think about someone who was naturally beautiful and kind when they were so wholly unaware of it. As he got dressed, Steve put a pin in it, telling himself that even if there was a little spark, she needed a friend. That thought alone seemed to settle the decision to go out or not for him. He chose to drag Sam along for Nat’s sake and make the most of it all.

Sam and Nat were hitting it off well, making Steve wonder what was really going on between her and Clint. The pair of them together had been a force and, despite not feeling ready to date- especially someone as modern as Lilian-with-a-lip-piercing from Accounting, he found himself heading out with her for the night. She was chatty and outgoing, and he found some relief in her questions about his past or job. It stopped him from having to open up on a deeper level when that wasn’t what they were doing. What they were doing was rough and exhausting. She was vocal about what she wanted; hair pulled, ass spanked, fast thrusts, and a firm no kissing rule. He obliged, getting his pleasure from the sounds of her own and his name on her lips, but by the third round she was exhausted and he was left thinking about how he’d never made love to a woman.

Slipping out of Lilian’s place with less awkwardness than he’d expected, Steve checked his phone. He still hadn’t heard from you all day, and it was 2 am in New York, which meant a new morning for you in Spain. He wondered if he should’ve asked Sam for an update on Bucky at the bar, but hesitated to reach out and ask at this hour. Despite socializing and the workout he’d just had, he was too in his head to go to sleep. Spinning his keys around his finger he found himself riding his bike over to the small, quiet apartment with books and a hungry fish.

As if you knew he’d turned up in your space, he heard his text tone just as he was screwing the top back onto the fish food. “I know you said that if I needed anything, to just ask. Probably didn’t expect a text this early and I’m guessing you’re probably asleep… this is so dumb and a big ask, but…” Steve stared at the screen, eyebrows drawn together as he wondered if the smartphone had eaten a text or had some feature that shortened longer messages that he didn’t know how to open. He watched the typing bubbles pop up again and waited, taking a seat at one of the two bar stools at your kitchen counter, the other containing a pile of your neatly stacked mail from the week. “I know I didn’t think I’d get through the goodbyes alone, but I managed. Thanks for the encouragement. It's everything else that I realized I just can’t do alone. The packing… all the pictures. There’s so many memories and I can’t take everything back to my place in New York- my place is just too small.”

Steve clicked the ‘call’ icon and waited for you to pick up on the other end. He thought about his mother’s funeral and how Bucky had been there for him, told him he knew he could manage alone but didn’t have to. His stomach twisted with emotion and then the call went to voicemail.

You didn’t expect him to see your panicked messages until later in the morning. You sat there, runny nose and bleary eyed, staring at the name on your screen. Five minutes, just staring, no text response, no new call- and then he was back, a FaceTime call this time. Pulling your hood over your head so he couldn’t see how disheveled you were, wiping your face on your sleeve, you answered with your face hidden mostly between your knees where you rested your chin and the hood. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” The apology that excluded the ‘I’m sorry’ was still very obviously an apology.

“You didn’t.” You were unconvinced, his hair was a little mussed, clothes wrinkled. He could tell that it seemed like you hadn’t fully thought through what you were going to ask of him, so he offered up a different question.“What do you have left to do in Spain? We’ve managed to stay out of trouble over here, just for you.”

The soldier tried to study your expression, noticing the glimmer in your eyes that wasn’t just from the sunrise. “I have to pack up what I want to take home. I was thinking I could get a scanner and digitize the pictures, but I don’t know how long that will take.” You let out a puffed up sigh, “I don’t think I have the heart to sell the place, but I’m so bad at taking vacations that it seems like a waste to keep it.”

“Don’t sell it. If your gut is telling you to keep it, go with your gut. There are other options, AirBnB or renting it out.” You sniffled, burying your face further in your arms and legs, leaving Steve to stare at the view behind you. “I know I’m getting a sideways view here, but it looks really beautiful.”

That managed to squeeze a small smile out of you as you nodded and turned the phone toward the balcony to give yourself a moment to wipe away the tears and snot once more. “Yeah, under any other circumstances it would be a proverbial paradise. You probably need a vacation more than me.”

“You’re probably right.” Steve laughed softly, trying to coax you out of what looked like the tail end of a lot of crying. “Send me the location, I’m curious what’s around the place.”

With a long hum you sent him your location. “Not going to send Stark tech to stalk me, are you?”

“I’m sure if Tony wanted to keep tabs on you he was already doing it.” Steve clicked on the marker and looked around the place, its stone streets and little shops. “Doesn’t look like there’s any modern shops, as cute as all these little places are. Where are you going to find what you need to scan the pictures?”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Just using my phone’s camera, I guess.” You looked at him as you watched the colors reflect off his face, blues and greens that mirrored the same flecks of color in his eyes. He probably didn’t even realize how beautiful he could look just staring at a phone. You relaxed a little, having someone to talk to for the first time in a week and let out a quiet yawn. “Is 8 am too early for a nap?”

Steve laughed and your face ached as you nearly smiled again. He bit his bottom lip, tempted to tell you that it was nice to see you smiling when he knew your heart was hurting, but he could already hear how cheesy it sounded and instead, chose banter. “Is 2 am too early to still be awake?”

“Go to bed. You know the second that you all even think you know where the twins are you’ll be on a Quinjet to find them. You can’t be pulling all nighters, even if you’re a super soldier. Doctor’s orders.” You added with a small smirk.

“Even if I headed back to the Tower this very minute, I bet I’d still beat Nat back. I think she left the bar with my friend, Sam.”

You knew Sam, just a little from one brief patch up. He had the same charm Steve had, clever and driven. “Nat and Sam? Good for her. He seems like a great guy and he could keep her on her toes.” With his phone so close to his face you couldn’t help but wonder, “Wait, it’s too quiet for you to be at a bar. Steven Grant Rogers, are you FaceTiming me from the bathroom of an O.N.S.?”

A part of you wanted to laugh, the thought of Steve just sleeping with some random person from a bar. Another part of you, the one that had a hint of a crush on the sweet guy who helped you when you were desperately in need of a friend, felt a pang of jealousy. “I’m not sure what an O.N.S. is, but I’m actually at yours feeding your nameless fish and named plants. You really got to figure out a name for him before I do.”

Somehow, a smile found your face, this big hero wanting to name a fish and zipping over to your place to feed him at 2 am. “If you’re too tired to head back to the tower, you can crash at my place. It’s late, you look like you could fall asleep at any moment. The bed’s clean, towels are in the bathroom cabinet, and coffee and it’s fixings are right over the pot. I’m not fancy enough for a Keurig, sorry.”

You watched him stop scrolling, his eyes meeting yours as you rambled. He didn’t look tired, he looked disheveled but perfect, as always, but it was cute to see him try to flatten out his hair nevertheless. “You forgot about the books.”

“I thought that was a given.” You stuck your tongue out before yawning one more time. “I’m serious though, best to stay off the road if you’re tired. Besides, the bills are paid even though no one’s there to use anything. I’ll probably be gone another week.”

Steve sighed, not in some defeatist way of you being right but, to your surprise at the mention of how much longer you would be gone, “One more week…”

“Feels like I’ve been gone for months.” You looked away, eyes stinging as the weight of your reality settled on your shoulders again. There was no one left in this world to actually miss you. The truth was that despite being in this beautiful place, you couldn’t help but feel all the more hollow and alone in it. If it wasn’t for the little check ins you would’ve never managed to drag yourself through the house, to the lawyers, or out to the shops to eat. “I’m not texting you too much am I?”

“Not at all.” He replied quickly, then worried it might have been too fast. He could tell you were off somewhere else, wondering if you heard him or if it even mattered. The way you clung to him just a few feet away from where he currently sat, a tight hug now in the forefront of his mind. Before he knew what he was saying, the thought spilled out. “I wish I could give you another hug. I know it’s not easy to do this alone.”

The confession choked you up, sniffling you nodded, “I wish you were here to give me a hug too. A1 hug game, big guy.” Despite the tacked on joke, tears silently spilled from your cheeks and you were eager to get off the phone so he didn’t have to hear the incoming wave of heavy breathless weeping. “Get some sleep, Steve. I’ll keep texting signs of life.”

He nodded, eyebrows knit together with concern and curiosity, “We’ll catch up soon, darling. Goodnight.”

Steve took you up on the offer, showering and climbing into your bed somewhere around 3 am with one of the other books that had been stacked on your bedside table. He hardly comprehended a single word, replaying the conversation as he drifted into a heavy sleep, overwhelmed by the sense of happiness in just seeing your face through a screen as he was surrounded by the comforting scent of you. For the first time since seeing Bucky, he didn’t dream of his best friend falling off the train or the dance he never had.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I would love feedback from you. Do you think these two miss each other? Are they crushing or just some horny adults? We shall see, we shall see!

Also, if it wasn’t obvious: In this house we stan bisexual Cap and ship Sam x Nat over Bruce x Nat.

As my followers know I have an obscenely demanding job, but I always try my best to keep you posted on if there will be a delay in a chapter posting. This series should be posting every Sunday until it finishes. Also, while I do keep Reader vague, I’m a Latina writer and I write fics I want to read.

Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics

I will be reblogging with tags, send an ask if you’d like to be added either to the series or to my overall tag list.

#fic: steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #writer: writerwrites

60 notes · View notes

illneverrecover · 5 years ago

Text

call you mine (M) | changkyun

➛pairing: Im Changkyun (I.M.) x reader ➛genre: friends with benefits!AU, non Idol!AU, angst, smut, fluff. ➛word count: 2,741 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: idk this is truly some sweet soft shit, mentions of alcohol, friends with benefits, standing sex, slight rough sex, biting/marking because clearly I have a kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of Mingi!!, lots of kissing, soft clown Chaingang truly. ➛summary: Changkyun knew he ruined your friends with benefits arrangement when he let his feelings be known, and now you’ve left him on read for weeks. So he does the only thing he can to stay sane - he religiously watches your Instagram stories. ➛notes: Another first for me - my first Monsta X fic! I’ve played around with writing Changkyun for a while now, mostly because I live to torture @taetaesbaebaepsae (which she deserves from all the PAINFUL and RUDE Baekhyun shit she’s written for me). However, she decided to actively commission her own demise, because she stays not listening to Namjoon and refuses to love herself. I’m glad I finally got a chance to take a stab at writing her ult, and I hope I did him justice! Enjoy your tomfoolery, Kristin! 💖 ➛song: Call You Mine - The Chainsmokers & Bebe Rexha | Horizon - I.M. & Elhae

It’s pathetic, he knows.

The way he can’t stop watching, the way he seeks your face out in an app full of millions of others. The way he can’t get you out of his bed, his head, his thoughts.

He fucked up, scared you off, and now he’s left with the aftermath of his own stupidity. Watching you through a screen to fight the withdrawals off, to keep his heart beating.

Changkyun knows you would laugh at him if you saw what he was doing.

Watching your Instagram stories is the only reason he’s heard you laugh in over two weeks, the only way he’s been able to see your eyes light up, your lips curve into a salacious grin. Things he fucking missed, thought he would have plenty of time to indulge in - until he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and ruined it.

He had taken you back to his place after a few shots of whisky at the dingy local bar, hands and mouth unable to leave your skin - just like the hundreds of times before. It had been four months since you had started this friends with benefits relationship, and despite having freedom to see whomever he wanted, Changkyun found himself only starving for you. So hungry that he couldn’t stand another moment in that place, watching you share your smile with anyone other than him. So he had tugged you close, nipped at your ear, told you that you were so damn beautiful that he couldn’t stand there another minute without you coming undone around him.

You had smirked, slid your hand down the front of his pants, grabbing his cock like you owned it, purring out the words “prove it” before following him outside, just like the hundreds of times before.

Pressed up against his wall, his pelvis flush with yours, Changkyun whispered filth in your ears as he ground up against you, swallowing your moans in greedy kisses. Desperate fingers had pulled at your top, freeing your breasts for him to worship as he worked your skirt up around your waist, thrusting his clothed length against your core until you were whining.

Changkyun always promised to take his time with you, to work you over until you were drunk on his touch and pleading for more - but you never let him, always knowing the right thing to say to get his gaze to go dark and lust to turn frantic, to unzip his jeans and press inside your dripping cunt right there in the hallway.

Just like the hundreds of times before.

You had come around him, digging your nails in his back so hard it left marks, made him growl your name against your collarbone as his thrusts picked up speed to fuck you through the high. You urge him on in the way only you can manage, begging for his release, whispering how much you want his come deep in your cunt. Biting down against the skin, he had spilled inside you with a final groan, hips twitching as he pumped you full of him, forehead resting against your shoulder.

Instead of pulling away immediately, Changkyun remained collapsed against you, breathing heavy. You had smacked at his shoulder, but he just chuckled, arms adjusting to continue a firm hold of your legs as he stayed inside of you, trapping you against his body and the wall.

“What are you doing, Kyun?” scoffing, you had grasped his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “I let you fuck me dirty against the wall without even demanding you buy me food after. Least you can do is let me get cleaned up.”

He had gazed up at you then, eyes piercing as they looked through you, and your heart clenched tightly in your chest.

He knew he shouldn’t say it. Knew it would scare you off. And yet….

“I would, you know.” Swallowing thickly, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Take you to go get food. If you - I mean, if you wanted. If you’d let me.”

It was like he could see the carefully crafted defenses go up, the pain etching your brow and making your eyes go cold. Anxiety flooded his veins as you wiggled out of his grasp, sliding your clothes back into place as you moved towards his bathroom.

“You don’t mean that,” you murmured, faking a smile. “You know what this is, Kyun.”

“I do mean that!” He knew he sounded too eager, too pitiful, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I’d take you out to dinner. Or,” following you, he paused in the doorway, watching you appraise yourself in the mirror. “We could just get take-out and go somewhere private, drive to a park, bring a blanket and some booze, eat somewhere no one would know or bother us.”

Your answering laugh had sounded wrong, like it had cost you something - like it was the last thing you had wanted to do.

“Like a picnic? Changkyun, you’re saying you want to take me on a picnic? Like a proper date?”

Stuttering, he tried to explain himself, but you had cut him off with a single wave.

“Listen, we both know I’m not that kind of girl, and you don’t want me to be.” Leaning forward, you had pressed a kiss against his mouth, your eyes somber when you had pulled away, moved towards the door.

“What if I do?” His voice broke, wanting to reach out but his arms remaining stiff at his sides. “What if I want you to be that kind of girl, with me?”

Tears stung your eyes, your stomach sinking like you had been punched. You couldn’t do this, couldn’t handle the inevitable disappointment that would come when you got your hopes up.

“I’ll see you around,” you threw over your shoulder before shutting the door, and shutting him out.

Just like the hundreds of times before.

It had been two weeks now since he last saw you in person. It wasn’t for lack of trying; texting you at all hours had proven fruitless, even when he tried to send the usual ‘you up’ message like he didn’t just lay his heart out on the line. You responded airily, non committal, and he knew what you were doing.

You were trying to let him down easy.

So here he was, phone glued to his hand as he scrolled through to find your picture, clicking on it to see if there was any update. You didn’t post a bunch in your feed, but you had a tendency to update your stories often - filling them with silly memes and cute selfies, little videos of you going about your day. Cuddling with your cat, attempting to cook something for lunch. His favorite was when you would do tarot readings for your followers; the way your face would turn serious as you read the cards, passionate fire in your eyes as you helped deliver the message to its owner.

Seeing you that excited and genuine did something to him, made his chest feel like it was going to explode.

He knows you can tell that he’s watching, can see the icon of his profile showing up at the bottom of the video under “seen by.” He can only imagine what you’re thinking when you see it - that he’s a loser, this friend with benefits who turned lovesick puppy, but he can’t make himself care. It’s the only way he feels close, can pretend you’re still in his life.

He never thought that he would need you, now all he wants is to see you - for you to answer him, to come back to him.

Changkyun still sends texts, unable to stop his fingers from reaching out, despite knowing you’ll shut him down. He calls sometimes too, late at night when his blood is more whisky than plasma, though you never answer those. Instead he listens to your voicemail, eyes closed to stop the world from spinning, letting your voice lull him to sleep.

He convinces himself he’s fine with this arrangement, that things would be alright. He can just miss you from afar, observe you live your life through the pixels of a screen. That watching your stories is enough for him, will keep him afloat.

Until he sees you with someone else.

It was another Friday night he was spending alone, half drunk and on his phone, looking for your picture. Taking a deep breath, he had felt his heart stop when he saw the rainbow ring adorning your profile photo, meaning you had updated your story. Sighing, he tapped it, hoping that it would be a few videos so he could pretend for just a moment that he was beside you instead of wasting space on his bed.

The first clip was a selfie, your heavily lidded eyes staring seductively at the camera through your lashes, making his pulse jump and pants tighten. The caption “gonna get drunk tonight!” scrolled across the image, right below the pout of your lips. The next was a small video of you making a drink, giggling about the mixture of tequila and soju you were tossing in your cup, whispering to the camera how it was going to get you ‘all the way fucked up’. But it was the third clip that had his chest heaving, his lungs forgetting how to work.

You were walking out your door, a few people cluttering your front porch as you asked if anyone had a light. Some tall red headed kid - Changkyun refused to acknowledge him as anything more than that - had shouted out, and you squealed as you ran up to him, sliding directly onto his knee before switching the camera into selfie mode to capture the two of you. The next clip was you in his lap, one of your delicate hands sliding through his hair as he gave you a big dopey grin, a cigarette perched on your lips as you cooed at him and told him just how cute he was.

Fuck. He knew that look of yours, knew those moves. Knew exactly what you were doing, what you were hoping to do with that fucking Mingi kid, and he couldn’t stand it, not anymore.

Taking a few deep pulls directly from the liquor bottle, his fingers flew over the keys of his phone, sending you text after text - all of which were ignored. He knew calling would be pointless, that you would rather light yourself on fire than answer your phone - especially at a party - and he felt desperation creep up his throat, choking him.

Changkyun couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let you just forget about him.

Clicking back onto Instagram, he started sending you responses to the story video as he got dressed, throwing on the nearest pair of jeans and sliding on his boots.

<Baby?>

<I’m on my way. Don’t take that kid to your bed.>

It took painfully long for the Lyft to show up, and he gritted his teeth the whole route there, knee bouncing to stop himself from demanding the driver to go faster, to just hurry the fuck up and get to you.

When the car had pulled into your neighborhood, he tried to send another message, instead clicking a video. Too frustrated to change it back, he lets it record, his voice low and pained.

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

You were alone on the deck when your phone started vibrating, the ding of an Instagram direct message making you click the app, eyes widening in surprise when you saw the number of notifications.

Changkyun, all from him.

Awestruck, you scrolled through every line, your heart throbbing with each word he had written.

You didn’t think he cared, not like that. Sure, he missed the sex, but that’s what you expected. That’s what all of them wanted when they sent you late night texts, when they called your phone at three in the morning. Empty promises and broken vows were what kept you company in the dark, when they’d predictably leave you alone with an ache between your legs and in your chest. None of them really wanted you, cared about you. After a few weeks of ghosting, they’d all disappear into thin air like expected, and your heart would harden just a bit more.

But now…

Another chime pulls you from your thoughts, eyes flicking back to the light of your phone. Instead of another direct message, it’s a notification that Changkyun had updated his story for the first time in months.

Shaking fingers slide against the screen, your vision blurring as you take in the shadowed back seat of another person’s car, the only light neon pink from the sign of the Lyft drivers decal. For a moment, all you can hear is the quiet chattering of a distant radio, of someone breathing heavily.

And then his voice croaking over the speaker, raspy with need.

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

The video fades just as a car pulls up to your curb, a flurry of movement as Changkyun climbs out, stumbles towards you. He all but collapses into your arms, his breath dripping with liquor, eyes reddened but burning fiercely.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, hands coming to cup your face, thumb dragging against the smooth skin of your cheek. “I want to take you on a picnic.”

You laugh, though it comes out more like a sob. “What? What are you talking about? Did you call a Lyft and come all the way across town to tell me that, you clown?”

His finger taps against your lips once, twice. “Shh. Just let me-” he sighs, stomping a foot. “Let me talk.”

He waits until you nod before continuing, words surging from his mouth as if he couldn’t hold back a second longer.

“I came all the way here because I want to take you on a picnic. I want to buy you food and take you on cute little dates and do cheesy things that make you smile at me like you are right now,” he grins, pulling you until your chest rests against his own. “I’m here because I couldn’t stand you ignoring me anymore. I meant everything I said - that I miss you, that I want to be with you, if you’ll give me the chance. I want to call you mine.”

Pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes fall shut, his voice fervent and barely more than a whisper.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Tears brim your eyes, and you fight every old wound that tells you to shove him away, to call him a liar. Instead you allow yourself to follow your gut, your heart for what feels like the first time, leaning back to give him a watery smile in return.

“I love you too, Changkyun.”

His mouth immediately lands on yours, tongue eagerly tracing the seam of your lips until it’s slipping inside, tasting every inch of you, ravenous and unsatisfied until your knees are shaking. He’s walking you backwards towards the door, tugging at your clothes, and you giggle at his impatience.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, palm pressing against his shoulder to hold him back for a moment. “But listen, if I give you a chance, that means you have to stop stalking my Instagram, you creep. And don’t try to deny it, I see you all over my stories, lurking around.”

He chuckles then, nipping at your bottom lip as his eyes darken. “Please, don’t act like you don’t love the attention,”

Pushing the door open, he guides you inside, mouth working over your neck, arms wrapped around your waist until your back is flattened against the wall.

“Plus, there’s no need, now that I got you,” he confesses, his nose swiping against yours gently before he captures your lips between his own, hitching your legs to drape around his waist as he grinds against you, humming words of praise.

Just like the hundreds of times before, but now as his.

#changkyun x reader #IM x reader #changkyun smut #IM smut #monsta x smut #monsta x scenario #changkyun scenario #I.M. scenario #I.M. smut #I.M. x reader #ksmutclub #plotsofpastel #im changkyun #monsta x #monsta x fanfic #taetaesbaebaepsae #my writing #fic: call you mine #fic: cym

804 notes · View notes

severetimetravelnerd · 4 years ago

Text

I Don’t Know(ft. G Dragon and MINO) (6)

Part 6

When Jiyong stumbles into your home drunk, you start to remember things long forgotten.

This series will be updated once a week, every Friday! No specific time though lol. It’s an AU where Jiyong has a younger sister and you’re her best friend! Featuring my OC Mirae as the Best friend. Just saying, it’s not related to any of the scenarios I’ve written so far. Please do leave me some comments or asks! I love receiving them! It’s also a bit of a love triangle situation, so yeah :)) There will be eventual smut in this series.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Taglist:

@kwonnansi

@unabashedturkeytreeslime

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast

@yee-hawwwwwwww

@slayergroupie0128

@herewecomeitsjekki

@happygirl327

Please comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list:))

Word Count: 2840

WARNINGS: slight smut, drinking.

——————————————-

6 years ago

It was late. Jiyong had just finished watching a movie and was wrapping up. He was just about to go to bed when he heard loud singing and knocking from the front door. Rushing to get the door before anyone else woke up, he opened it to find you, flushed and swaying, with an idiotic smile on your face.

“Jiyong!”

And you threw yourself at him. He caught you, whisper shouting at you.

“What’re you doing? Why did you drink so much?”

You pouted, eyes becoming sad. His heart clenched.

“It was Mina’s bachelorette.”

“Why’re you here?”

You looked around, confused.

“I don’t know.”

Your eyes widened.

“Do you not want me here?”

Your lips started trembling. Jiyong sighed.

“No, it’s not that. Come with me. Just… don’t make any noise.”

Immediately, your face lit up and you yelled,

“Yay!”

He smiled looking at you, gently shushing you. You were an adorable drunk. You pouted.

“Why do you not want me to talk Jiyong?!”

“Because it’s 2 in the morning and I don’t want you to wake up everyone else?”

“Oh. Good point.”

He held your hand and guided you to the couch.

“Sit here and don’t move, okay?”

You reached out and grabbed his hair.

“Woah! So fluffy! Your hair is surprisingly soft for someone who dyes their hair so much.”

Jiyong froze, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. You ruffled his hair, laughing.

“You’re surprisingly cute Jiyong.”

He turned red.

“J-just wait here, okay?”

Still flushed, Jiyong went up to his room to get make up remover for you. By the time he got back though, you weren’t there anymore. It was relatively easy to find you though. He just had to follow the sound of the crashes.

He found you in the kitchen, crawled up on the counter, trying to reach the chocolate wafers. He sighed and reached over you, getting the wafers and handing them to you.

“What’re you doing?”

“I was hungry.”

“Okay. Turn towards me.”

“No. I want to eat and you’ll steal my wafers.”

Jiyong didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.

“Y/N, I’m not going to steal your wafers. I just want to remove your make up and get you to bed.”

“Sleep is for the weak Jiyong.”

“Says the girl who once slept for three days straight.”

You huffed and widened your eyes.

“Hey! That was after not sleeping for a week!”

“Why didn’t you sleep for a week?”

“…I procrastinated.”

“Exactly.”

Tired of you rambling, Jiyong gently grabbed your waist and turned you towards him, standing between your legs.

“You can continue eating. I just want to remove your make up.”

And as he gently wiped off all your makeup, you stared at him, wondering how he was so beautiful. When he looked up and caught you staring, you blushed and stuffed a wafer into his mouth.

“What was that for?”

“Consider it a gift.”

“Come on, let’s go up.”

You started whining.

“No, Jiyong. I’m tired. I’m just going to curl up here and sleep.”

Jiyong raised his eyebrows.

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“On the cold marble counter top?”

“Yes.”

“Where there is barely enough space for you to sit?”

“Yes.”

He sighed. Muttering under his breath, one of his hands gently went under your knees and the other went around your waist as he carried you, enjoying the way your arms went around his neck immediately for support. Your face went red and you buried your face in his neck, leaving you unaware of his adorable smile. He opened the door to his room and gently put you down on his bed. Sounding adorable confused, you asked,

“Why are we in your room?”

“Because if you wake up Mirae, she’ll kill you and you need to change. Here, take this t-shirt and shorts. I’ll be outside. Call me once you’re done changing and I’ll help you to Mirae’s room.”

You felt happy when you wore his clothes. Your drunk mind didn’t comprehend why, but it felt nice. It was comfortable. It was familiar. You looked around at his room and stared at the pictures he had up. You were in some of them. It made you feel nice. At least he cared. Even if you didn’t remember this the next morning, it was nice to know he cared. You were interrupted by a gentle knock and Jiyong came in.

“You should have called me.”

“I was looking around.”

He sighed, ruffling your hair.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

And as he held your hand, you pulled him closer, burying your face in his chest.

“Jiyong, can we just stay here like this for a while?”

His breath hitched, but he sat there next to you in silence, allowing you to rest against him. After a while, he realised your breathing was getting slower and sleepier. He was about to get up and tuck you in when you grabbed his hand. You mumbled something in your sleep.

“Don’t go Jiyong.”

His heart melted when he saw your small hand wrapped around his. He moved you in and lay down next to you, letting you snuggle into him and just enjoyed the moment. He stayed like that for a while, until he was sure you were asleep, and then got up and slept on the couch. Seeing you in his arms in the morning would have been too much. He didn’t want to give himself hope.

4 years ago

There was a family get together at Mirae’s place. You were practically part of the family, so of course, you were there too. You smiled at everyone as you stepped away from the light and the noise, wanting a bit of fresh air. You walked away, enjoying the cold, fresh night air. You walked towards the back, walking through some grass when you heard the grass behind you rustle. Tensing, you turned around, prepared to punch whoever was following you, but only found a very surprised, sheepish Jiyong trying to light up a cigarette. You walked over to him, stifling a laugh at the way he refused to meet your eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m here to smoke.”

You looked at him sceptically.

“Weren’t you supposed to be trying to quit?”

He looked at you suspiciously.

“What’s it to you?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to help you.”

You moved away, not liking the smell of the smoke, and you stumbled. Jiyong’s eyes widened and he grabbed your arm, pulling you into him.

“Be careful! You could’ve gotten hurt. Why’d you move away?”

Your face scrunched up when he breathed out the smoke on your face.

“I don’t like the smell of cigarettes Jiyong. You do what you want, but I’m going to just walk for a bit.”

You gave him a light smile, wrapped your shawl around yourself tighter and walked off. Jiyong watched you walk away with a growing sense of panic. Suddenly, he found himself putting out his cigarette and jogging up to catch up with you. He never smoked a cigarette around you again, because he never wanted you to walk away from him like that again.

***

Minho sat down at the table, with you sitting right next to him, your hand on his thigh. Jiyong’s jaw tensed. You didn’t realise but Minho did, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at Jiyong while taking your hand and saying,

“Hi hyung! It’s nice seeing you here.”

Jiyong barely managed to politely smile and nod at Minho before getting up to leave for the bar. It was going to be a long night. Minho felt a little guilty for driving away his hyung, but the overwhelming feeling was still relief, because seeing you with his hyung just reminded him of everything in the past.

Two hours later, Jiyong could barely stand when Hwiyoung, the designated driver for the night, helped him into his car. Hwiyoung had very kindly offered to drop off everyone, but you had declined, knowing that they couldn’t find out about Minho. Jiyong was drunk, and while that was nothing new to him, he was used to taking someone home with him. After meeting you again though, he couldn’t, because every time he was with another woman, all he could see was your face, your smile, your lips, everything about you. He was lost in thought, thinking about you when Hwiyoung stopped the car for Somin to get out. Just wondering out loud, he asked,

“I wonder why Y/N didn’t just come with us. You and Y/N literally live on the same floor.”

Somin laughed.

“I’m sure she had her reasons. But we don’t live on the same floor. I live on the 9th floor and she lives on the tenth floor.”

“Meh, close enough.”

Hwiyoung was about to start the car again when Jiyong suddenly sat up, barely aware of what he was doing when he told Hwiyoung,

“Hwiyoung, thanks for the lift, but I’ll get off here.”

“What? Why? This is so far away from your place.”

To make things less suspicious, Jiyong smirked and said,

“Yeah, I know, but a girl I know just texted me to meet her at the ice cream place down the road, so I’ll just go.”

“Oh, okay then. See you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Hwiyoung.”

You were slowly unwinding after Minho dropped you home, changing into a tank top and shorts and listening to music while going through your emails. You smiled when you saw Somin’s. She really was a lifesaver. You opened up the email and a chill went down your body. It was about the meeting with Jiyong. The one where you thought he was making fun of you. The more you read of it though, the worse it became. Why was he apologising? Why were the colours he picked your favourite colours? Why did he pick tea, peonies and poems? Oh no. Oh good god no. You shook your head. You had to be wrong. He couldn’t possibly like you. After years of making you feel awful, he can’t just change his mind. Just when you were finally happy. You snapped your laptop shut. You didn’t want to think about it anymore. You couldn’t afford to. But just as your mind went back to it, you heard the doorbell ring.

You were suspicious about who could be knocking at your door so late, but you knew who it was the moment you heard his drunken singing of ‘If you’. Your blood froze, but you opened to door to see what he needed. Icy, you asked,

“What is it?”

Jiyong didn’t respond and walked straight into your apartment, looking around in wonder.

“Get out of my apartment.”

Jiyong just turned and flashed you a light, trusting grin. You just stared at him in disbelief. He came close to you and cupped your cheeks.

“Wow, you look really pretty.”

And before you could react and pull away, he moved away, covering his face and blushing. You looked at him, drunk out of his mind and sighed.

“Can you stand on your own?”

He jumped.

“Yeah, I’m going to take that as a yes. You’re too drunk to go home on your own, so I’m going to call you a cab, okay? I know we have to be careful about your image but I know this one guy-”

And before you could complete your sentence, he fell on you, pushing both of you onto the couch. His forehead was resting against your collarbone. You blushed as you looked around. It was a very awkward position to be in. You were just about to push him off when he held your hand and very sleepily said,

“Don’t go Y/N. Let’s just stay like this for a while.”

You froze. You never fully remembered what happened when you were drunk, but this brought back memories. Why was it that you had a vague memory of saying that to him and him actually listening? You looked down at him. He was asleep already. Sighing, you pushed him off and got up, shaking your head as you forced yourself to not think about what you just remembered. Or what Somin’s mail told you. You couldn’t afford to. Not when you finally got over him. Not when you were happy with Minho. You went and got a blanket to cover Jiyong with. It was cold without one. You looked down and decided that you didn’t want to be alone at home with Jiyong. Too many memories. And it would have killed Minho if you did. So, you called him.

He sounded quite surprised when he answered.

“Hey Y/N, all okay?”

You smiled when you heard his voice. You could already see the raised eyebrows on his face.

“Hey Minho. Did I wake you up?”

“No, I was just changing. What’s up?”

“Do you mind spending the night here, with me?”

You could hear him grab his car keys and wallet.

“I’m on my way. What happened?”

“Jiyong is here.”

Minho had just gotten into the elevator when he heard that. His heart stopped for a second.

“Jiyong turned up here drunk and passed out on my couch. I don’t want to be here alone with him, which is why I called you.”

You paused.

“Minho, sweetheart, listen to me. It’s going to be okay. Nothing happened. He just passed out here. I like you. I’m with you for you.”

You could hear Minho shakily take a breath.

“Yeah, I know Y/N. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t worry.”

When you opened the door fifteen minutes later, you were expecting to find a worried, sad Minho. You were not expecting to be pushed against a wall and kissed hungrily. Before you could get used to it and kiss him back, Minho wrapped your legs around his waist and his mouth had already moved on from your lips to your neck, hell bent on leaving marks. Minho couldn’t help it. His fear got the better of him. He had to feel you. He had to feel you to know that everything was real. That you were his girlfriend. That he wasn’t just lying to himself. His hands desperately went to your tank top and bra and ripped them off. You gasped. You knew something was off. This felt different. Minho had never been this aggressive with you. But the moment his tongue met your nipple, all thought left your mind and you moaned, letting him carry you to the bedroom.

---

Jiyong woke up early the next morning, wincing at the sunlight that was hitting his face. Yawning, he slowly stretched and looked around. Where was he? Did he go home with a woman last night? He furrowed his brows. No, that’s not right. He was with Y/N and her team last night. Oh shit Y/N. that’s when everything started to come back. And then suddenly, in the span of seconds, he went from confused to happy because if he was in an unfamiliar place, that meant you had let him stay. He looked down at the blanket covering him with a newfound appreciation. You had put that blanket on him. You still cared enough about him to do that for him. He grinned and jumped up, wincing from the ache in his head. He had to do something as a thank you. As he went to get water, he suddenly found a packet of pancake mix. His smile got wider. That was one of the few things he could cook and luckily, pancakes for breakfast were your favourite.

A good twenty minutes later, you stirred, the sounds from the kitchen disturbing you. Wait. Sounds from the kitchen? If you weren’t cooking, who was? Turning around, you saw Minho with his arms wrapped around you. You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face. You pressed a kiss to his cheek and slid out of his arms, throwing on his shirt from last night before walking out into the kitchen. You were taken aback when you saw Jiyong flipping pancakes and adding them to a stack next to him.

“Jiyong, what is this?”

Jiyong grinned. You called him Jiyong again. He was in the middle of flipping a pancake, so without turning around to face you, he said,

“Good morning Y/N! Thanks for letting me crash here last night when I was drunk. As a thank you, I made pancakes.”

He had just flipped the last pancake and turned around with a huge smile on his face only for it to fade. And fast. It first faded because he saw all the new marks on your neck from last night because of how loose Mino’s shirt was on you. It faded more because a shirtless Mino had walked out of your bedroom, wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you. He looked up at Jiyong, surprised at first, then nervous and finally, with a challenging raise of his eyebrows, he said,

“Good morning hyung.”

94 notes · View notes

littlefreya · 5 years ago

Text

Heart of Darkness

Synopsis: Slight sequel to Overprotected. Walter’s longing wife comes to visit him at his office.

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x OFC

Word count: 3.9K

Warnings: Explicit, graphic smutty sex, rough oral sex, choking, role play, pleasure denial, rough sex. MaleDom / FemSub. Slight fluff though.

A/N: A special thanks for @agniavateira or helping me proof my work. I don’t own Night Hunter / Nomins or Marshall!

Title: Heart of Darkness

The heating is broken at the station. It’s either that, or Walter came up with some new methods of torture to interrogate his suspects. I’ve never seen him in action, I’m not sure if it’s the shame of this very darkness that lives within him, or his desperate attempt to keep me safe from the horrors of the night. His colleagues filled me in a while ago, mentioning he tends to go rough, violent, even brutal at times.

They know very little for I bask in Walter’s darkness. I’m the first to witness the terror that consumes him and shadows his soul. I drink from his desire, joining him in this violent lovemaking. It’s the only thing that helps him cleanse his demons.

It brings us closer.

And yet, he doesn’t want me here. He fights to keep me secluded as if I was some porcelain doll.

As if I don’t see my share of blood and death every day.

I walk through the chilled halls of the station, wrapping my arms around myself to keep warm. Even though I’m wearing a large, thick winter coat, it feels like it’s four degrees here. I shouldn’t have worn a skirt beneath all this, but how could I have known? I left five text messages which remained unanswered. It’s not unusual. He is busy, and sometimes he forgets.

It doesn’t mean this doesn’t piss me off.

I find him in his office, with a phone pressed to his ear. His bulky body faces the window while he talks down some crime lab trainee for messing up the evidence. He turns to see who dares to barge his office uninvited, his blue eyes pale as glaciers. They immediately melt as he realizes it’s me.

“I don’t care how. Get a new sample or I’ll make sure you’ll never hear the end of this!” He ends the call without a goodbye and drops the device on his desk. His arms grab the edges of the chair tightly while he stares down, letting his soft dark curls fall on top of his forehead.

“What are you doing here, pet? You know I don’t like you coming here.”

I take off my long coat, hanging it next to the door. His office is only slightly warmer. It’s smaller, and Walter emits enough warmth on his own. Everyone is walking around in their coats and jackets but he's in a black wool sweater per usual, with the sleeves rolled up to expose his wide forearms.

“I missed you” I answer, pretending not to tremble but the fumes that come out of my mouth give me away.

I take a small, slow twirl in the secluded space, inspecting the room. There's so little light in here. On the shelf, he has some books about the history of crime and criminology, with his diploma and badges of honour laid next to it. Not out of pride, but out of compliance. Walter is not an arrogant man, he’s actually the opposite. He doesn’t have time for chasing glory, all he does is out of pure heroism, some would even say out of altruism.

The morbid photos next to his desk catch my eyes. Images of victims. They hang on a board latched to the wall, along with a map, and a thick, red string that trails the locations where the bodies were found. These are young women, mutilated, their lives were stolen from them by selfish monsters.

I get to see my share of blood every day, sometimes even death. But, this is not something anyone should see.

And this is what he sees all the time, probably also in his dreams. The ghosts of the girls he couldn’t save haunt him; it’s not his fault, but he’d never see it that way. For him, every girl who died on his watch is a girl he has failed.

My fingers press against the ring on my finger, twisting it anxiously. I can feel my heart shrinking to the size of a walnut. I wish I could suck the pain out of him as you do with poison.

“I told you…” he speaks with a deep frown on his face, as if he is angry with me for entering his cave of horrors. He was in a foul mood before I got here, and I defied his request. I am the one teasing the tinders with more wind and fuel.

All I wanted was to bring my light into his world, at least for a little while.

“You visit me at work all the time,” I answer, inching closer toward his desk. I try to ignore the sourness in my throat as the horrifying images on the wall stare right at us.

He gives me a small smile, almost invisible amongst the wrinkles of grumpiness on his forehead.

“It’s a part of my job to come to the hospital, and it’s the only one in the county.”

That’s how we met.

I was in my first year of residency. The tall, burly man with the most caring blue eyes appeared in the hospital. I have seen Walter once before that, spending an evening at the local Irish bar with his friends. The toughness on his face was the only thing I remembered then. I thought he was hot, obviously, though I didn’t bother approaching him.

I didn’t fall in love with him until I saw the ocean of benevolence he kept under that hard shell.

He came to visit a victim and stayed the night to make sure the aggressor won’t return, and that the girl is taken care of. I felt his eyes on me every now and then, silently observing me when I was checking up on other patients. He tried to strike a small conversation, about the girl first, and then about my job at the hospital. I believed the British giant was just being polite and passed the long, boring night by chit-chat. I should have known I was being interrogated to see if I’m single or not.

Suddenly, he appeared at the hospital every other day, to check up on “the girl”. The first night, he brought me some coffee because “I work crazy hours,” and he thought I’d like some to drink. Then, it was coffee and a sweet pastry to eat. For a week and a half, I had a constant visitor who took care of my caffeine and sugar intake. My colleagues teased me for suddenly wearing perfume to work, and how I’d blush whenever “Sir Big Dick” arrived.

On the last evening, he came to my department and found me signing some charts. I’ve told him the girl was released during the morning, but of course, he knew that. He smiled at me and offered me a single red rose instead, asking if I’d like to accompany him for a real dinner this time.

Four years since then, he comes to visit even when there are no victims. Sometimes, I’m worried he does that out of fear that something will happen to me, and not just out of a romantic gesture to see his wife.

“Is it part of your job to stalk your wife?”

He slouches on his chair heavily, making it squeak beneath his weight. His eyes rise to gaze at my face. There is a weariness in them, the kind that even sleep can’t cure anymore. I fear the day when my husband will stray too far from the light, when the heart of darkness will clutch its ugly thorns in his tender flesh.

“It is my job to make sure the citizens of this county are safe.”

I roll my eyes at him, walking to stand behind his chair. My hands reach to clutch his broad shoulders as I begin to knead the tense muscles with mild force. He stiffens for a moment and then emits a soft groan, flexing and trying to relax beneath my touch.

“Do you bring red roses to all the citizens in our county?” I speak with a sultry voice, moving my hands to his collarbone. Walter closes his eyes and throws his head back, a deep groan vibrates from the pit of his throat.

“Only the hot ones,” he answers as his hand finds my leg and snakes up my bare skin, running all the way up beneath my skirt to find the curve of my ass. “You’re shivering.”

“It’s freezing in here.” I answer, leaning into the warmth of his palm as he strokes up and down my thigh to keep me warm.

“Why are you dressed like that, then?” he guides me toward him to sit in his lap. His hands run up and down my legs, exposing more of my skin while a soft smile spreads across his rugged face. “If I wouldn’t know better, I’d say you came here to seduce a police detective.”

I bite my lower lip, wrapping my hands around his neck while my ass sinks against his groin. I feel so safe in his touch, with his coarse hands that burn hot on my flesh.

“Why? Is that a crime?”

“Actually, yes.”

I pull away from him, standing against the edge of the desk with a teasing smirk across my face. His hand reaches out to my knees, not wanting to break contact. He has been deprived of it all day long, abandoned in the cold.

Now here I am, the only warmth he knows.

“Show me then.”

He licks his lips, still smiling as he is caught up with my little flirtatious act. “Show you what, pet?”

“What interrogation methods would you use? How would you squeeze a dirty little secret out a seductress like me?” I place the heel of my boot between his straddled thighs, preventing him from moving and asserting my dominance to provoke him.

His eyes narrow at me while he considers the idea. I see how the ethical balance begins to tip, the ball falling from one scale to the other. His better judgment becomes lost in a thick cloud of lust.

“You keep secrets from me?” he asks as he plays along.

“Maybe…” I stretch the word, giving him a wicked flirtatious smile.

Somewhere deep inside this good man, there is a big black dog, hungry to rip this willing victim to shreds.

He peers at my leg and then up into my eyes while his fingers reach to gently tickle beneath my knee. I hum in delight, throwing my head back, my leg losing its strength, my assertiveness leaning on the edge along with my ankle.

“I’d begin by putting you in a position where you don’t have any power whatsoever,” he speaks in a voice that’s gruff and low, his fingers now pressing hard and I’m forced to straighten my leg and lower it to the floor.

The smile on his face becomes cold and his eyes darken as he moves to stand in front of me. His leans against me, his torso pressed against my chest, his chin against my forehead as he lowers his head.

“Down on your knees.”

These words take my breath away, making my skin prickle with nervousness. I follow his orders with the obedience of a good wife. My knees lay pressed against the cold floor, I try not to tremble too much. I’m not sure if it’s just the temperature of the room, or the dark glare on Walter’s face.

His groin is at the level of my face, the outline of his cock showing through the fabric of his trousers as it begins to harden.

He reaches out his hands to cradle my face. Stroking my hair back, examining my face as if he is learning my features for the first time. The smile diminished from his face the moment I went down on my knees. Now he stares at me with the severity of his bad detective attitude.

“You’re very pretty,” he compliments me, but it sounds more of a fact than anything sweet. His fingers caress my cheeks and then at the corners of my lips, forcing me to part my lips. “Pretty little mouth too, does it talk?”

“I ain’t telling you nothing, Detective” I play along, if I’ve known we’re actually doing THAT, I would have prepared a script.

His hands run to stroke the hair away from my face, beginning in a tender affectionate touch, he collects every strand lovingly until my hair is bundled between his strong palms. I can feel the softness of his touch draining away.

“Undo my belt.” He commands.

“I don’t…”

“You don’t want me to ask again.”

My hands tremble with fear and excitement as my fingers fumble with the metal clasp of his belt. Walter’s eyes look at me carefully, completely devoted to this role. I wonder how much of his job is pretence and how much is actually him.

“What do you say if I’ll fuck your mouth until you cry?”

He asks while reaching one hand to unzip his trousers, freeing his beautiful large cock and stroking it in front of me for display. I can’t help but lick my lips, like a hungry kitten presented with creamy delight. The little drop of pre-cum that trickles down his shaft is too inviting.

“I’d say you still won’t hear a word from me,” I provoke.

Walter gives a short smile, tugging my hair back painfully until I’m forced to part my lips open into a breathless gasp of pain.

“Take me in your mouth.”

Usually, when I please him, I’d begin with a soft teasing, licking my way up and down his hardness until I finally take him in and begin working him sensually.

I am not granted any of that courtesy right now.

Walter forces himself into the wet heat of my mouth with the delicacy of a grunt. A deep, throaty groan echoes in the room as he is surrounded by my hot saliva and is pressed against the softness of my tongue.

I choke out a mewl as he completely fills my mouth, feeling the head of his cock nearing the back of my throat. My cheeks betray me, sucking by instinct to savour his girth. Every inch of my body knows Walter all too well, it succumbs to the man that owns it, physically and emotionally.

I look up to him with helpless glossy eyes. Victory showers his face, golden and bleak at the same time. He lets his callous long fingers clasp around the hollow of my cheeks to force me to keep my mouth open wide just to please him.

I gasp for air as he pulls back slowly. Just a cruel act to make me think we’re done, but we are far from that.

“Loosen your mouth pet, I am going deeper.”

He warns and shoves himself in again, this time deeper as promised, relishing on my muffled whimpers he puts one hand on the back of my head and begins to buck his hips. Fucking my mouth in the rhythm that fulfils his lust.

My heart pounds on my chest, my knees begin to hurt as I try to move with him. But I’m his good girl, breathing through my nose, letting my tongue lap around his lavished cock lovingly while he uses me as the wet hole he unloads into.

His eyes are glistening, ecstasy drawing near. I look up to stare at him, admiring how glorious he is. My large man, so confident and dominating. His beautiful dark curls frame his square face, bringing out his high cheekbones and bright blue eyes. And damn, that voice, those low melodic hums of pleasure making my entire body shake.

I choke onto his swollen cock. Tears stained dark grey thanks to my eyeliner and mascara, run down my cheeks.

“Don’t cry beautiful,” he speaks with cynical sweetness, his thumb wiping the tears away from one cheek as he carefully withdraws from my mouth, allowing me to breathe once again. “All you need to do is tell me what you’re hiding and this will end.”

I gasp for air, my chest slightly heaving while his fingers run under my eyes to clean the black mess that is smeared on my face. He remains silent, the wrinkles between his brows are deep and severe while he is still pulling his bad cop act. Yet the way his hands run over my face with care gives him away so easily.

“Is this the worst you can do? Some detective you are!”

I provoke him, laughing patronizingly with my voice still husky, the edge of my throat slightly sore from having to endure his size in its depth. Walter chuckles momentarily before grabbing my shoulders and pulling me up to sit on his desk.

“Spread ‘em” he nearly barks, but it’s not really an order since his hands press my knees apart widely, exposing the dampness on my underwear. He smoothes both hands up my thighs roughly, his thumbs reaching out until reaching to my core.

I let my head back, feeling how his thumb massages me, pressing against my covered clit and drawing circles against it.

“You like that, little slut?”

“Yes…” I throw my head back and moan, my hands holding hard at the edges of the desk while I spread myself to him as much as possible and grinding my hips to steal more friction.

“You want more?” he teases while his fingers slowly slip my underwear to one side, exposing me to the cold air in the room. I’m so drenched for him right now, held open, anticipating like sliced fruit. He reaches out for his cock and begins to stroke himself in front of me, a wicked grin adorning his face.

I’m very much aware he can finish himself just like this while leaving me here to beg out of thirst. Well, I can do that too. I lift my hand to touch myself, nearly losing balance but he shoves his thighs between my legs right away and holds my wrist away.

“Ah, ah” he forbids. “You’re not touching yourself, you’re still under investigation.”

“If you don’t finish me off…” I threaten him but my intimidation breaks into a pathetic cry as I feel the head of his cock rubbing against my clit.

“You’ll what?” he asks, running the tip between my throbbing lips and up to my clit. Back and forth he tortures me, increasing the pace and then slowing down. His groans convince me he may be enjoying this more than actually fucking me, seeing me so helpless and weak, willing to cry and beg for him to just put himself inside me. “I’m still waiting to hear what you’re hiding.”

I close my eyes, head thrown back in agony and pleasure at once, so close yet so far away as Walter pushes just an inch inside, and then pulls out and strokes me again.

I am still not willing to break completely, what’s the fun in that? I know my man, and I’m aware of his darkest desires and capabilities.

Let him unleash his worst.

“Not a word from me, Detective, you’ll just have to try harder.”

His nostrils flares.

“Fine, then I’ll just have to punish fuck you, drill you like a whore.” He pushes all the way in, making me whimper with bliss as I am finally whole again.

I’ve led him just to where I wanted. His body conquering mine, filling me with the pleasure that’s not just physical.

Somehow both his hands find their way to my neck, holding me constrained while he allows my body to stretch for him. He makes me stare directly into his eyes, holding my face close to him, his hot mouth hovers onto mine, our breath mingling.

I wrap myself completely around him, my boots pressing onto his ass to keep him buried deep inside. My hands hang onto his shoulders as if hanging to lift itself.

He begins to finally move, grunting against my ear, his beard tickling at my neck while he thrusts me fast and hard. I grind onto him, our bodies making the erotic sounds of wet bodies as they slam together.

This isn’t romantic lovemaking, he’s not tender and caring. His force is controlling, consumed by his demons once again. He fucks into me as if he wants to rip me apart, his hands depriving me of air, tight, perhaps too tight. Yet it’s still love, he would have not been able to have this with any other person and I would have not given it to him if I have not loved him as much.

The desk moves as he pounds me, he stretches his arms somewhat to lean me back, so he can look at me as I squirm beneath him, choked, fucked, and beautiful in his arms. We have both long forgotten our stupid game. We were too lost in the act of seeking out pleasure in one another’s bodies.

I look back at the man I love, feeling the tremor that dances between my legs. My entire body quivers. My muscles embrace him deep inside as I come hard around his cock, snapping my eyes open, gasping at his sight.

He has his fingers engulfed roughly around my throat, leaving blue bruises. If he’d want me to stop breathing at this moment, he could so easily just push slightly tighter. I’d die happy in his arms, but I know he’d kill himself before ever really hurt me. His hands finally snap from my throat and reach instead to hold my face, crashing his lips against mine into a deep hungry kiss before breaking away and letting out one final gasp as true bliss sweeps him away.

For more than a few moments, Walter is lost, buried deep inside me, surrounded by light.

That’s when I break, entangling my fingers in his big soft curls, I inch my lips toward his ear to whisper,

“I’m pregnant.”

Walter backs his face away to look at me, first with disbelief, his eyebrows rising, unable to even form a word. I’ve never seen so many emotions at once. Then a smile appears, so wide I think his cheeks may hurt. His beautiful teeth show and he lets out a chuckle of joy, sounding almost half-believing.

“Really?”

I melt as I see the twinkle in his eyes. The man who is always so grumpy and gruff looks now like the sweetest, most caring person in the world.

“Yes, we're going to have a baby.”

He kisses me lovingly, his arms wrapping around my back and holding me tightly.

“Detective Walter do you ha… SHIT!” A young cadet barges in, finding me with my legs spread around Walter while he is still panting heavily with his curls sticky at his forehead.

It’s as bad as it looks.

The frown immediately returns to Walter’s face. Looking at the cadet as if he is ready to murder him at the spot.

“GET OUT!” he yells, throwing whatever’s within his reach to force the cadet out faster.

I can’t help but chuckle, wrapping my arms around my mountain of a man, there is so much of him to hug, it always makes me feel so protected. He leans his cheek against my forehead and then lets out a deep sigh.

That’s when I know the darkness is returning, and now he has a brand new fear in him.

#Henry Cavill #Detective Walter Marshall #walter marshall #Walter Marshall Fic #Night Hunter #Nomis #HenryCavill

1K notes · View notes