#as long as there was a compromise that he would go away at least once a day

[derfpossessions]

Rented You Out - Part 6

*I'm not even gonna explain why I was gone lmao, feel free to skip the backstory, it's a bit long.* “Well.. I guess he’s staying here for now.” Denholm put down the unconscious Vince inside his closet at home.

“But what about his family? They thought he finally came back! We can’t just let him disappear out of their sights again!” Markus said.

“They’ll be fine, I have Vince’s phone and I can just contact them that I’ll be heading away for a while.” Denholm explained.

Months have passed since Vince’s second disappearance, but his family was assured that one day he will return again.

Jumping across years, Denholm and Vince have finally graduated high school. They also managed to save enough money for Denholm’s father’s treatment. Denholm was relieved in tears knowing that his father has finally recovered. His father also thanked Markus for being on Denholm’s side no matter what, and that he had helped out with earning the money for the treatment. 

With both them entering their 3rd year in university, Denholm has even gotten more intimate with his girlfriend Paula, and was even thinking of proposing to her once they graduate. Markus was obviously devastated by this inevitable fact, but what else can he do? Overtime, he has slowly accepted that he should start burying the idea of him and Denholm ever becoming together, and that he should start loving himself at least for once.

As for the bodysuit situation, Markus and Denholm agreed that it would be best if they paused on Denholm being rented out. Markus then put a “pseudo” lock on Denholm’s switch, so that no one can easily activate him into a bodysuit. They soon regretted this decision when a day after the graduation, Markus received a blackmail text. 

“Oh desperate Markus. We thought we wouldn’t find out about what you and Denholm did? You dared to STEAL a bodysuit that was about to be shipped, then reconnected him to his family? Instead of just being grateful that the man of your dreams didn’t turned into a lifeless doll completely, you still managed to meddle into the bodysuit business huh? Well, let me tell you it does have consequences.”

“But I know this threat won’t make you shut up. So here is a compromise: You and Denholm meet up at a location I will give you, and I can be able to permanently remove his bodysuit condition, IF you promised that you would never mention or bring up anything about our company ever again. So make up your mind, and choose your decisions wisely. And remember, don’t let your heart go too crazy for Denholm, or it might get shattered in a heartbeat.”

“Sincerely, The Manager”

And thus, the mysteries of the bodysuit mafia remain unclear. Denholm is still bewildered by how Vince disappeared and how he was turned into a bodysuit. This, along with the fact that there are new disappearances in their old high school, led to him and Markus reopening past wounds, and began searching for the facility. Markus didn’t told Denholm that he was blackmailed, so he had to pretend that he found a leak to the facility’s address.

At around 1 AM in the dead of night, Denholm and Markus snuck into the facility. They didn’t meet up as planned with the Manager, and instead infiltrated the building. “Markus, I have a bad feeling about this.”, Denholm whispered. He began sweating as they walk deeper into the hallways of the facility. And then, it greeted them. Boxes and boxes containing who knows what it was. As they both walk towards a slightly opened box, something became very clear: All of these were bodysuits. These were the successful attempts of the mafia, and they are seemingly “sold off” to buyers who are willing to spend a good fortune to live as someone else. 

“I think we should leave...”, Denholm nervously told Markus. 

“We’re already so far down the halls, if we move back we’re definitely going to get caught.” Markus said.

As the two slowly walk through the labyrinth of boxes of bodysuits, they came across a room accidentally left open. There it revealed some sort of headquarters with paperworks. Denholm looked at one of the papers, which turned out to be a “form for bodysuits”, which listed out the names and attributes of the people that were turned into suits. Among the names they could find, one shocked Markus and left him tremble and cold. It was Denholm’s name. “Is something wrong?”, Denholm asked as he sees Markus standing very still. “Uhh.. nothing. It’s just that your name is here.” Markus nervously said. Both of them were in shock, but weren’t ready for what’s more to come.

Besides the bodysuit forms there’s also forms for clients, and these two papers can be paired to see which suit belonged to which buyer. As they searched through the client papers, they found the one that was meant to be for Denholm. Denholm’s heart dropped as he read the paper:

“PROPOSED CLIENT: AMAAN SINGH” 

“STATUS: NOT DELIVERED”

“We have to get out of here.” Denholm said with a rough tone. Suddenly, a silhouette of a middle aged man appeared and walked up to them.

“Well… since you already discovered your client papers, why not we finish the delivery process shall we? We even have room for one more!” 

Guards in black uniforms then stepped in to capture Denholm and Markus. The two started running towards the nearest exit. There they saw an exit hole, but only one person can fit at a time.

“We’re not gonna make it out here alive if we both try to fit there! Markus! Turn me into a suit then exit out!” Denholm shouts. Markus then deflates Denholm and carries his suit through the vents. He finally managed to find the hole that leads to the building’s garage. 

Markus then reinflated Denholm. The two ran again and hid in a nearby building. 

“What are we gonna do now?” Denholm asked while looking to see if there’s any guards who caught up to them. “I don’t even know if we can go home, but we need to be not traced.” Markus said while Denholm then asked. “How are we gonna do that?” 

“Well, I stole some disguises while we were there.” 

As they arrived in the far away motel, Denholm and Markus prepared to leave the car.

“Wow, you really picked the hot Italian guy for me huh?” Denholm said in his new sexy baritone Italian voice. Markus looks away shy. He knew how hot it would fit Denholm. It was making him so turned on to the point that he started sweating.

“Of course mi amigo Tiziano! We had to pick the most perfect disguises for this getaway!” Markus said, while wearing a guy named Manuel.

“Shall we?” Manuel said to Tiziano as they walked into the motel.

“Soo… can I take this off now?” Denholm began to itch from wearing Tiziano. He was also getting annoyed of the accent. “Well if you’d like to take it off then go…” Markus said. That combination of Denholm’s phrases, and the puppy eyes of Tiziano and his large pecs staring right at him in the eye, activated some sensations.

"You okay? You seem zoning out." Denholm stared at Markus.

"Uhhh.. nothing! I'm fine!" Markus stuttered.

"You look damn good though. That suit really fits you a lot." Denholm grinned. “I’m.. just gonna go outside to light a cigar.” Markus hurried. He was getting a boner.

“No, no, no, no.” Markus tried to calm his and Manuel’s cock down. The latex from the bodysuit will sting a lot since he just put the suit on and isn’t used to it.

Outside, a sneaky link that he had in the past showed up and approached him. “Well isn’t it Markie??” 47 year old Roger said with a grin.

“Ho-how did you know it was me??” Markus said in shock. “You really thought you’re the only one who knows about this bodysuit thing?! After all these disappearances!”

“And besides, I was supposed to be a buyer for that damn company. But they scammed me!” 

“Wha…what?? You WANTED a bodysuit?” Markus was shocked.

“You’re wearing him right now.” Roger smirked. Markus stepped back as he tried processing what he just said. 

“I thought I needed some younger biceps. My hair is gonna turn gray soon. My face will wrinkle. I gotta be forever young you know?” Roger explained.

“I should go now.” Markus was starting to get scared.

“Why not… we take that bad boy out for a test drive.” Roger grabbed Markus’ arm and gave him a kiss in the neck.”

“Room 207. Meet you there.” He starts walking upstairs. Markus stood there trying to light his cigarette. He walks back to his and Denholm’s room to check on him. Denholm was already asleep, and the Tiziano suit was on the bedside desk. Markus then sneakily took the suit, and headed upstairs.

Room 207 was dim-lit. Scented candles surrounded the bed. 

“Shall we?” Roger said to Markus as he held his hand across the bed. Roger then noticed the Tiziano suit.

“Another gift for me?” Roger chuckled. “Well uh… He IS sexy.” Markus sighed. Roger laughed and started putting on Tiziano. Slowly, his wrinkled legs were encased with Tiziano’s hairy ones. His torso became smoother, leaner, muskier. Sweat on the insides caused by Denholm using it encased Roger further. He was a bit bigger than Tiziano, so it was a tight fit. Tiziano’s biceps bulged as Roger slipped in his fingers into the suit like gloves. “Mhmmmm… so this is it what it feels like.” Roger silently moaned as he spits on the mask, and starts putting it on his face.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Markus said in disgust. “I want this shit to be glued onto me.” Roger explained as he tried to breathe through Tiziano’s nostrils.

Markus then turned around to check for his phone. As he looked back, a new silhouette emerged. Roger stretched his arms upward, showing his new pits, and let out a satisfied breath.

“Eccelente.” Roger said as he titled his head and bit his lip. Markus then leans onto him and the two kissed. He then gives Markus a tight headlock with his new stronger arms. “You like that Markie?” Markus let out a moan as he tried putting down his boner. It was going to hurt if he cums now. 

Roger was unstoppable. He started rimming Markus’ new ass, then he was ready to go all in. Markus felt twice as penetrated as he felt the combined force of Tiziano and Roger going down on him. His eyes rolled back in awe as he listened to Manuel’s moans coming out of him. Roger started to breathe fast, but Markus assumed it was just exhaustion.

Roger’s musk mixed with Tiziano’s as it leaked out of his neck through a very tiny opening. Markus moaned even harder as Roger eats his ass and feels Tiziano’s spiky facial hair. He also licks Markus’ body and inserts it in him as both locks in eye contact. Roger then began to even breathe harder.

As Markus was about to cum, he knew he needed to get out of the suit. “WAIT! Please, I need to get out of this suit!” Markus panted. Roger looked confused but was patient. Markus took off Manuel, and was covered with sweat. 

“You know. I don’t wanna fuck my ideal suit anymore. I wanna FUCK as what I was supposed to be.” Roger laughed again. He started taking off Tiziano. “Let’s switch.” Roger gives Markus the sweaty Tiziano suit. Markus felt disgusted as he puts on the Tiziano mask. It's full of sweat, Roger's spit, and Denholm's sweat as well. The slimey sensation slowly encased him into the new ripped body.

This time, Tiziano is the one that’s stuttering and shy, while Manuel became a beast. “Mi amor…” Manuel let out a wide grin as his muscles bulge out due to Roger’s larger frame trying to fit in a smaller body.

Manuel then grabs Tiziano and his cock went right into his ass. He slid up and down on Tiziano unti he came. As he was in the process of cumming, he aimed directly for Tiziano’s mouth and started shooting. Tiziano was tearing up as he tried to breathe and swallow Manuel’s cum, letting out high-pitched moans.

Roger-Manuel then pins down Tiziano-Markus against the bed frame and kisses him and bit his neck again until it went red. Tiziano’s biceps accidentally broke the bed frame wall and both fell onto the floor.

Roger then caressed Markus' ass cheeks, as he prepares to dig down his ass with Manuel's cock. Markus screams in pleasure, letting out deep baritone moans as Roger slides forward and upward towards him. Roger then pulls both of Markus' legs towards his cock back and forth.

The two shared a passionate tongue to tongue kiss, as both tried to feel each other's goatees. Loads were shot everywhere, including their hairs, which served as a pseudo-hair gel.

"You like that huh?" Roger giggled as Manuel, as he headlocks Markus again and forces him to sniff Manuel's pits. Roger then reaches for Tiziano's pits and licks it continuously like ice cream. The mix of body spray and deodorant filled in Roger's taste palettes as Markus kisses his neck.

Roger heavily breathed. "I.. need to get this off." He tried pulling up the mask, but the sweat and spit seem to have binded onto his skin. "Fuck! Help me take it off!" Roger panicked. He started breathing loudly to the point that his voice started getting muffled and distorted. "I'm trying!!" Markus struggled as he tried lifting the mask up. Roger crawled on the floor, with sweat dripping out of him as if he's showering. He let out a few more loads as he slides down to the door, with Markus trying to pull his body and unzipping him. Finally, Markus found the opening at the back and unzipped the whole thing, something else was waiting to get unzipped.

"MR SINGH??!?!?!??"

A sweaty and pale Mr Singh emerges from the suit. He was covered in sweat, spit, and Tiziano and Manuel's cum. Near him lies the bodysuits of Manuel...and Roger.

"Bu...but how???" Markus starts backing away in shock. "Look. I hate how this is how you would find this out. But It will all be over soon. I was just sent to lure you and Denholm in. Please, don't make this harder for the both of us.", Mr Singh explained.

"No... I'm gonna get the fuck out of here.", Markus prepares to run but was suddenly hit in the head with a blunt item. Luckily, the bodysuit prevented him from bleeding. Markus' vision blurred, as he watched Mr Singh talk to a group of men in black, and there, he heard Denholm's screams in the background as he got taken away.

TO BE CONTINUED

[flowersforbucky]

acquainted

bucky barnes x reader (undercover stripper!reader x undercover bodyguard!bucky)

word count: 3.3k

warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (male and female receiving), vaginal penetration, language, strip club setting, creepy dude being a piece of shit, violence and a brief mention of blood, protective/possessive bucky, reader is afab, no use of y/n, touch her and die trope, Bucky might have a slight lingerie kink... 18+ only!

The pulsating fuschia and lime green strobe lights illuminating the club had been making your eyes throb for the last three hours. EDM plays so loudly that you're surprised blood doesn't trickle down from your ears. Not to mention the suffocating combination of cheap perfume, body odor, cigars, and booze that permeates the air makes your empty stomach churn.

If you never step foot into another nightclub when this is all over, you'll consider yourself lucky. Not just any nightclub - one of New Orleans’ scummiest strip clubs.

Five goddamn nights of this operation and not a lick of progress.

Your objective was simple - obtain proof that the owner was operating a sex trafficking ring out of the club, and then call for the back-up squad parked a block away. So far, you had not been able to acquire any kind of definitive proof. No hints of anything shady going on behind the scenes, and you had yet to even see the owner make an appearance at any point since the mission began.

Everything seems as above board as a strip club can be.

One last night, you compromised with Fury. One last night and if it went as the last few have, you were done, and he owes you a few days of paid leave for putting you through this.

“If you don't stop picking at your garter belt, it's not going to have any sequins left.” Bucky's low voice murmurs through the communication device placed discreetly in your left ear.

“If you don't stop watching my every movement, you’re not going to have any unbroken toes left,” you threaten lightly, taking a sip of your drink - just a Shirley Temple, to keep up appearances. “Shoes like this could do a lot of damage.” You glance down at the pointy heels of the black velvet stilettos.

“Is that not my job?” he counters. You don't have to look over at where he's standing in the corner of the room to know he's smirking. “To not take my eyes off of you?”

“Then do your job. Watch me. You don't have to make comments on my sequins to do that.”

“Alright, alright,” he concedes. “I'll be over here, admiring your sequins from afar. You won't even know I'm here.” The com line clicks off before you can retort.

Except you absolutely would know that he's here. Just as you have the previous four nights of this mission - painfully aware that he's here, tracking your every movement in the skimpiest outfits you've worn in your life, doing the most provocative dances imaginable, and flirting with men that you wouldn't touch with ten foot long poles in real life, all while he keeps to the sidelines in case something were to go wrong.

Keeps to the sidelines and just watches you. Even when one of the dancers approached him to ask if he'd be interested in a private dance once he's off the clock on the first night on the job.

Even when there's gorgeous, topless women crawling on the stage and all but humping the pole in his direct line of sight.

He isn't here to look out for them, of course. He is here solely to keep you safe if things were to go sideways. But you had assumed you would have caught him sneaking glances at the dozen other women at least once by now.

It's almost your turn to go up on stage. You've performed a solo set every night so far, and you still feel every bit as nervous as you did the first time.

You enjoy dancing, actually. In the comfort of your own room, when listening to music alone. When you go out with friends, occasionally. When you took ballet lessons as a child. This, however, was leagues out of your comfort zone.

“The creep from a couple nights ago is back,” Bucky's voice is a strained whisper in your ear.

“Gonna have to narrow it down a bit for me, Barnes. You could be referring to at least half of the men in here right now.”

“Sitting in front of the stage, to the left,” he mumbles back. “He's wearing a red wife-beater–”

“See him,” you interrupt, your eyes zeroing in on the short, stout, beady-eyed fuck who had been thrown out of the club night before last. One of the other security guards on duty chucked him out when he repeatedly got too handsy with one of the girls who had been giving him a lap dance.

“Fantastic,” you huff under your breath, as you finish touching up your lipgloss and reapplying the iridescent baby pink body glitter across your chest. “Just in time for my dance.”

You get up from your seat at the bar and adjust your lace bustier and thong as the announcer calls your stage name.

“He won't lay a finger on you,” Bucky assures you as you're walking up the steps of the platform.

There's a weak round of applause and a few whistles as you take your place on the center of the small stage. You give a vague nod in the direction of the DJ’s booth to indicate you're ready for your song to begin.

An upbeat but sensuous synth-pop song pours out of the speakers throughout the room and you begin to sway your hips.

You're hyper-aware of the fact that you can see Bucky making his way closer to you, away from his position in the back of the room. He settles when he's just a few tables behind the man in the red wife-beater.

There's an eruption of butterflies in the pit of your belly at how close he is. Each night prior to this, he has kept to lingering around the exits and the far wall towards the back of the club. Now, he's close enough that you can actually see his eyes following every languid movement that your body makes around the pole.

“Take your fucking top off!” a grating voice bellows from the audience. “We want to see your tits.”

You don't have to look to know who the voice belongs to. You decide to ignore him, hoping he would stop if you didn't give him any attention. You go to wrap your thighs around the pole again, preparing to spin–

“Did you not fucking hear me?” he shouts even louder this time, audible to everyone over the roaring music. “I said take your fucking–”

A flash of movement in your peripheral vision causes you to freeze around the pole. You turn your full attention to the ruckus, just in time to see Bucky fisting the man's greasy, shoulder length hair and pulling his head back. The music comes to an abrupt pause.

“You don't fucking talk to her like that,” Bucky snarls. “In fact, you don't talk to her at all, you don't look at her, you don't even breathe the same fucking air as her.”

The man is thrashing around, trying and failing miserably to get out of Bucky's grasp.

“Let me go you fucking–”

He doesn't get to finish his sentence before Bucky snaps the man's head forward, sending his face crashing into the granite tabletop.

The instantaneous pool of blood that contrasts so starkly against the white stone snaps you out of your fear-stricken trance.

Bucky pulls his head back up, forcing the man to look up at him.

“It's not my fault she refuses to show off those perfect–”

You all but jump off the stage - miraculously not breaking an ankle in the six inch heels - and rush over to where Bucky still has the man's hair yanked into his fist.

Just as Bucky is beginning to shove the man's head downwards again, you place both of your hands on his chest, gently but effectively shoving him backwards. He immediately releases his grip on the man as the other few security guards on duty arrive to detain the pervert.

“Hey, hey,” you place your hands on his biceps, trying to turn his attention to you and away from the man who he's still glaring after, as he's hauled off by security. “I'm fine, yeah? Everything is fine,” you try to assure him, though you're not sure your shaky voice sounds very convincing. “He's just a creepy, entitled asshole.”

Noticing that Bucky is shaking beneath your touch, you rub your hands up and down his arms in hopes of calming him down.

He finally meets your gaze. He doesn't say anything for a moment, just stares at you as he takes a few deep breaths.

“Go get dressed,” he orders you calmly after a moment. “I’m getting you the fuck out of here.” You want to leave too badly to even think about objecting.

You make a beeline for the changing room, where you throw on a sweater and force your pants over your heels, not even bothering to change out of the lingerie and stilettos.

Bucky's waiting for you right outside the door as you sling your duffel bag across your shoulder.

“How mad do you think Fury will be that we are abandoning our positions?” you ask in a hushed tone as Bucky ushers you through the club, his metal arm wrapped around your waist.

“Not as mad as I am that he's had you doing this bullshit for no reason for almost a week now.”

You and Bucky exit the club as quickly as possible, ignoring the curious and confused stares of the other dancers and security guards. He guides you down the block, then through an alleyway where his motorcycle is parked in a heavy silence - other than the obnoxious clanking of your heels against the pavement.

Bucky straddles one leg over the seat of the bike, taking his place in the driver's position and then hands you the helmet.

“Wait,” you pause before putting it over your head. “I'm starving.” Your stomach growls, as if on cue. “Can we stop and get some take-out?”

He looks at you incredulously. “I just shattered that guy's nose and likely severely concussed him and then just dipped. Our cover is essentially blown, don't you think we should get back to the motel room and lay low until the morning?”

“There's a Chinese place open late just a few blocks from the motel–”

“If I say yes will you put on the helmet and get on the bike?”

Taking that as a win, you slide the helmet over your head and hop on behind him. You wrap your arms securely around his midsection in a tight hug and he takes off down Bourbon Street.

You spend the drive trying to ignore the thought that of all the times you've ridden on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle, you don't remember him ever feeling so tense beneath your touch.

Half an hour later, you're lounging on the rickety motel bed, stuffing your face full of sweet and sour chicken and vegetable fried rice while Bucky fills Sam in on what happened over the phone.

He sits in one of the small chairs at the singular table in the corner of the room, his posture rigid. He answers all of Sam's questions with clipped, one-word responses as he massages his temple between his thumb and forefinger.

He hangs up the phone, refusing to meet your gaze. Instead, he pretends to be interested in the episode of Family Guy playing on the old motel TV.

“Your egg rolls are going to get soggy,” you tell him, pushing the to-go box across the mattress towards him.

“I don't have an appetite right now,” he says, picking up the box of food as he stands. You grab his bicep in your hand as he begins to walk past where you're sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” you say, stopping him. “Everything's okay. Really. Don't let that guy get to you–”

“A little late for that, don't you think?” He snaps, pulling his arm from your grasp. You sit back, too stunned by his reaction to know how to respond. You just stare after him as he crams his take-out box into the motel room's mini fridge.

“I shouldn't have reacted so harshly,” he says after a moment, still facing away from you. “I couldn't stop myself. He spoke to you that way, and I could have killed him and not thought twice about it. Probably would have if you hadn't intervened.”

He turns back to you. You're frozen in place.

“Do you know what that's like?” He asks, taking a step closer to you. “To feel like you aren't in control of your own body? To be so irrationally protective of someone that you'd kill for them without a second thought?”

You feel like all air has been stripped from your lungs. He's just inches away, staring down at you from where you sit on the edge of the mattress. The way he's looking at you makes your skin feel like it's on fire.

“Because that's what you do to me. That's how you make me feel.”

Heat pools between your legs.

“Come here,” you say - it sounds more like a question than a command.

He closes what little distance is left between the two of you, and pulls you up from the mattress by the tops of your arms so that your body is flush against his.

His mouth hovers over yours - not quite making contact, though you can feel his breath fan across your skin.

He takes his flesh hand and cups the side of your face with it, his thumb trailing across your bottom lip. His metal hand wanders down your back until it reaches the curve of your ass - grasping your cheek in a firm hold and squeezing until his touch borders between pleasure and pain.

“This is what I wanted to do to you every time I saw a man so much as glance in your direction in that club,” he whispers against your mouth. “I thought about bending you over the stage and making them watch me take you right then and there, but they didn't deserve to see that.”

“They aren't here to see us now,” you murmur as you bring your hand to cup the noticeable bulge of his jeans, eliciting a hiss from him. “So what are you going to do now?”

There's a dark grin spread across his face. He pushes you, softly but effectively, back down on the bed. You scoot back a few inches on the mattress, and then bring one of your feet up to remove the stiletto heels that you'd completely forgotten to take off upon returning to the motel with your haul of Chinese food.

“Oh, no,” Bucky laughs lowly. “I want you to keep those on. I've grown to like those quite a bit.”

Your cheeks warm in both arousal and bashfulness. You begin to push your pants down your thighs as Bucky kneels on the ground and helps you maneuver the fabric around your shoes. The sweater that you threw over your bustier goes next.

You're left in the lingerie set that you wore at the club.

“Call me jealous,” Bucky sighs as he begins trailing sloppy kisses up the insides of your thighs. “Call me possessive, call me crazy..”

You lay back down against the scratchy comforter as Bucky gets closer and closer to where you're aching to have him the most.

“But I don't want anyone seeing you like this but me.”

He pulls the already soaked lace material of your thong to the side, exposing your cunt.

He licks up your center torturously slow, causing you to let out a sharp exhale. He repeats the motion, and then locks his lips around your clit. Your hands shoot to his hair, fisting your fingers through the short brunet strands.

He eats you until you're a mewling and squirming mess beneath him.

You come hard, clenching your thighs around his head and riding his face through your orgasm.

“Stand up,” you instruct him as soon as you can think semi-clearly.

He obeys without any hesitation. The warm glow of the singular lamp in the motel room highlights the way your slick coats the lower half of his face.

You get up on your hands and knees before him and he lets out an audible groan at the sight in front of him. He bends down enough to kiss you - cupping your face in both of his hands and tipping your head up to give him a better angle to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moan into the kiss - the ache between your thighs reappearing already.

He removes his hands from your face, unbuttoning his pants while still kissing you.

You pull away to help free his cock from the confines of his boxers. Your mouth waters at what's directly in front of you. He's impressively long and girthy, with a thick vein running up the side.

You pump him a few times in your hand, swirling your tongue around the pre-cum dripping from his slit. He's already putty in your hands - groaning above you and placing his metal hand around the back of your neck to keep you where he wants you.

After you've run your tongue up and down his length a few times, you spit on the tip of his cock and massage it over the entirety of his shaft before taking him as far into your mouth as you can in the first go. He throws his head back, moaning your name.

You feel him hit the back of your throat and you gag before pulling back.

He curses under his breath, nudging himself slowly back towards your throat again.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises and you moan around his dick. He gradually increases the speed at which he pumps himself into your mouth, obscene noises echoing off of the thin motel room walls.

When he pulls out, you feel drool running down your neck and mascara-tinted tears leaking from your eyes.

“You're so gorgeous like this for me,” he tells you, and despite knowing that you look thoroughly fucked out, you believe him. “Will you turn around?”

You do as he asks, turning around on your hands and knees. You lower your chest down to the bed so that your ass is angled upwards.

“Jesus Christ,” he grunts under his breath. He grips your hips with both of his hands, yanking you to him. His erection juts against the cloth of your underwear.

He tugs them aside once more, giving him access to tease your slit with the head of his cock. You rock backwards, grinding against him. He brings his flesh hand around your stomach and reaches down to rub your clit as he begins to slowly fill you from behind.

He pauses for a moment once he bottoms out, giving you time to adjust to the fullness of him before he starts fucking into you.

The combination of him slamming into you at such an intense angle and massaging you so perfectly has your climax building shamefully fast.

You grunt his name, bouncing your ass to meet his thrusts. “I'm gonna come,” you mewl, knowing he's on the verge of doing the same as his movements become uneven.

One, two, three more pumps and you can feel your pussy clenching around him as you come together.

You pull off of him, collapsing onto the bed and rolling onto your back. He crawls over you, propping himself up on his arms above you.

“You know,” he stares down at you, his eyes trailing to your breasts that are now spilling out of the black lace bustier. “As much as I hated every second of that mission, I do hope I might get to see you in some of these outfits again.”

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist!!!

[xshadowdelta]

FORMER MANAGER

PART 4: Like a tulip.

Kazuha x Male Reader (4K length)

Your hands were gripping the steering wheel of the car tightly, you were still in disbelief at everything that was happening, as if some divinity up there was playing with you for fun, and its enjoyment involved seeing you suffer every fucking moment of the day.

The red light of the traffic light forced you to brake and stop the car for a few seconds. You looked out of the corner of your eye towards the passenger seat, there she was, sitting looking out the window while the fingers of her hands played between them, showing a clear sign of nervousness. Kazuha Nakamura had become, without foreseeing it, the biggest headache of your entire life.

It's not that you had gotten used to sexual encounters with your former Iz*One members, but after what had happened in the last few days, you wouldn't have been surprised if a few more had arisen or even were going to arise in the future, since they seemed to be competing for you or something, something you hadn't been able to figure out yet.

But this totally escaped logic and compromised you enormously, you had in your car an idol whom you had never had under your tutelage, whom you did not know at all, and who had made you an irrational request, to say the least. 

“Can you have sex with me the same way you have sex with Chaewon unnie?”

That phrase kept echoing inside your head. Despite your attempt to hide that 'professional opinion' session, it seemed that Kazuha had perfectly realized what you had done in that practice room.

You didn't even have time to make an excuse or a lie, you had been hunted in such an obvious way that denying it would only complicate this situation even more.

Before you could realize it and without even having accepted her request, you were already leaving the Hybe compound, but with more company than the one you entered with, thanking the gods that your company vehicle had completely opaque window glass.

Neither of you had spoken a single word during the journey, which made the atmosphere feel even more tense and heavier than it would normally be. You wanted to start a conversation or ask a question, but the words just wouldn't come out of your mouth.

“Turn right on that street.” She commented, pointing her finger in the right direction.

And this was another big problem: your destination place. You had really gotten into the car without a fixed direction in your mind. Should you take an idol to your house? Was that right? And what would happen if someone saw you on the street and treacherously took a photo? Could it be camouflaged as part of a television program? Was a hotel suitable? You didn't believe it, but if so, it must be one suitable for celebrities, something you couldn't afford.

You parked the car, following another signal from the girl, in one of the free spots and got out, going around it to reach the passenger door, doing a complete sweep of the area, and opening the door once there was not a single living being. in your range of vision.

Kazuha quickly left and, taking some keys out of her bag, opened the door of one of the buildings, giving you way and successfully completing the first checkpoint.

He called the elevator, and you both went up, still in pure silence. You looked at her through the elevator mirror automatically, she looked back at you through the mirror and blushed, she quickly looked away.

She left in terror when the elevator opened its doors again, yes, taking one of your hands, practically dragging you after her. Your nerves increased when you felt the softness of her hand, wasn't it crazy? Now you were behaving as if you were still a teenager going through puberty.

You entered the interior of one of the apartments, which looked large and spacious from the inside despite only seeing the hall for the moment. "Where are we?” You heard your own voice for the first time in a long time, wondering why she had brought you to that place.

“It's LE SSERAFIM's bedroom.” She answered, taking off her shoes.

Knowing where you were scared you to death, you were in unstable territory. Stepping into that apartment had to be the closest you're going to get to a war camp, with too many people who could come and go at any moment and catch you in the middle of the action.

“The rest of the members are very busy and won't come until the evening, and our staff doesn't usually barge in without warning.” It was certainly relaxing to know that, but still, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest at any moment. Kazuha unexpectedly took your hand again and dragged you down the main hallway of the apartment, passing by the living room and the kitchen until you entered one of the bedrooms.

The bedroom itself was quite simple, some large beds pushed together, a small desk with a chair decorated with clothes and various junk on top, and a closet built into the wall. You diverted your gaze to the corners and blind spots of the room in search of possible cameras, it wouldn't be the first time that after recording one of those home realities they forget to remove them.

The girl was quick to turn on the light in the room and close the window despite it being broad daylight, seeking to create a more intimate and safe environment.

You turned around, looking around at the entire bedroom, paying special attention to the pile of clothes scattered on the desk chair. She noticed this and, embarrassed, ran there to put all those clothes in the closet in a disorderly manner.

“Sorry, Chaewon unnie and I were a little late this morning.” Great, so this bedroom also belonged to Chaewon.

“Kazuha-ssi, I think you've rushed into all this, I... we shouldn't be here. I'm flattered, really, but I don't think you're aware of what this means."

She walked towards you and took your hands in hers, looking into your eyes with that look that begged you.

“I've wanted to do this for a long time, but I didn't know how. I'm too shy to approach some other random guy and propose this kind of thing out of the blue.” You laughed inside yourself, what she was saying had nothing to do with the spontaneous request she made to you. “I wanted to wait for the right moment and the right person.” Her fingers caressed the palms of your hands.

“I'm definitely not that person.” The expression on your face became more serious now. "You are!” She snapped loudly, making you step back in surprise. “I mean, I know Chaewon unnie very well. She wouldn't have done anything like that with you if she didn't have complete trust and deep respect for you, and that's more than enough for me.”

“But that's not how it should work, you shouldn't do this with some random guy you don't know at all like me, it should be with someone you love, someone you love from the bottom of your heart.” “You sound like the protagonist of a kdrama.” A small smile now graced her face. “Look, it's not that I'm a virgin, nor an expert, but I'm enough of an adult to know that I can have sex without commitment with whoever I want.”

The truth is that she was not wrong, perhaps you had seen too much fiction lately, after all, the vast majority of humans today had sexual relations guided more by vice and lust than by love.

You still had time to run out of there, you knew that she had nothing against you, she would never tell what she knew, and she loved Chaewon too much to harm her dear unnie. This was never about blackmail, just a favor, no one was forcing you to do anything.

That's what you told yourself internally over and over again.

‘This is not right.’

'Why don't my legs react?'

'I have to get out of here as soon as possible.'

'Fuck, she's beautiful.' Wait, what?

You stared at her for the first time in all this time, indeed, she was pretty and beautiful to look at, like a flower blooming in a beautiful meadow surrounded by huge green trees and a bright sun.

She was also attractive, you could see how well trained her body was. Her legs looked toned, and the lower part of her abdomen that did not cover her shirt was better worked than yours. She had an aura of tenderness and sensuality around her that was difficult to find.

Suddenly, in a burst of bravery, Kazuha raised her hands to your face, holding your cheeks to give you a small kiss on the lips. You wanted to resist, you really did, but who knows if, in order not to hurt her, you reciprocated that kiss by taking her waist with your hands.

“Everything you say is true, but also believe me when I say I want you to fuck me, oppa." She whispered against your lips.

"Kazuha, you're asking too much of me." Your lips were now moving unconsciously over hers.

"I don't think so." She chuckled, bringing one of her hands to your bulging crotch, gently caressing that area of your pants. She stood on her tiptoes to bring her mouth closer to your ear. "Don't you want to know how flexible I can be?” That whisper hit you squarely. It would have been a K.O. if we were in a boxing match. Your skin crawled just thinking and imagining certain scenarios, and the bulge in your crotch only grew under the touch of her delicate hand.

You let out a sigh, you sounded defeated, and you actually were. How could you be so fucking weak? Why were you trapped in a spiral of sex with gorgeous girls with beautiful bodies? And why were you martyring yourself for it when anyone would sign with their own blood to take your place? You didn't have the answer to any of those questions.

“Lie on the bed.” Despite your obvious annoyed tone, Kazuha's smile did not fade but rather widened, and she followed your instructions.

Immediately the Japanese idol was lying on her back, with her legs dangling from the edge of the bed, undoing the button on her jeans and slowly lowering them to your delight.

You knelt on the floor right in front of the bed, between her legs, starting to touch her thighs and going down her legs at the same time as her pants were going down.

You noticed how her skin stood on end under your hands, it burned, and you verified it with your own lips when you leaned your head over Kazuha's body, spreading a few kisses on the part of her abdomen that the shirt did not cover.

Her toned abs contracted as she felt your lips on them, your hands joined hers on either side of her legs, finishing off her pants in a single pull.

Your kisses marked a downward path towards the girl's panties while your hands took the opposite route, going from her legs to her hips, moving upwards slowly caressing every centimeter of skin.

A new piece of clothing was recognized as the next enemy, as your hands fisted the hem of her shirt. She understood quickly, and with an agile and quick movement, she slid the garment over her head and threw it away, landing somewhere on the floor of the room.

You kissed her pussy over the fabric of her panties making her moan, and then your tongue began to create lines of saliva before starting to move as if it were a normal cunnilingus.

Even though the panties continued to act as a barrier between your tongue and her pussy, the caresses you provided were felt on her body in a remarkable way, proof of this were the moans that Kazuha expelled from her mouth.

Her pussy was getting wetter due to the excitement, starting to leak down her thighs and even going through her panties, as your tongue began to enjoy the taste of the girl's intimacy.

You sat up a little and jumped on the bed, being careful with her delicate body so as not to hurt her, remaining on top of her, and going directly to kiss and lick her neck as an attack.

Her moans became noticeable again, with an increase in volume and much closer to your ears. However, she was a fighter, and although she seemed to be completely under your control, she managed to take off your shirt and expose your torso, which she did not hesitate to touch and caress.

You ceased the attack on her neck, moving back a little, allowing her to kiss your bare skin, causing you to sigh occasionally. You crouched over her again, kissing her lips deeply, taking her cheeks in your hands.

“Condoms?” You asked the instant the kiss broke.

She pointed out the nightstand next to the bed, and you jumped out of the bed again to approach the designated piece of furniture, opening it and finding a box of condoms still sealed.

You were opening it as you walked back, placing yourself in the starting position, facing her between her legs. You looked up and could see that there was no longer a trace of her panties.

You smiled, finally opening the package of condoms, taking one between your fingers, and placing it on the mattress. You needed both hands free to finish undressing completely. 

Kazuha sat up slightly on the bed so she could look directly at your now-naked cock, opening her mouth shocked by its size and almost reflexively opening her legs wider, giving you a much better view of her wet and shiny entrance.

You placed one knee on the bed, bringing your penis closer to her vagina, one hand holding your dick firmly and the other gripping one of the young girl's pale thighs.

"Wait! The condom…OH!” Her words were interrupted by a violent moan.

She was right, you hadn't put on the condom yet, but you didn't need it for the idea you had in mind, which consisted of rubbing the folds of her pussy with your cock over and over again without actually inserting it inside.

That game seemed to take its toll on Kazuha, who was now trying to silence her sounds by putting both hands over her mouth and allowing you to play with her intimate area to your pleasure.

Your penis soon became well lubricated after being rubbed mercilessly by the wetness of the Japanese pussy, at which point you decided that it was now possible to start the real action.

Now you wrapped your penis in the latex of the condom to bring it closer to the female entrance again, this time with the intention of entering her. You looked one last time into Kazuha's eyes, waiting for one last step back that never came, quite the opposite in fact.

She placed her hands on her thighs, separating her legs as much as she could, leaving you amazed at her incredible flexibility and increasing your excitement as you witnessed that move.

The tip of your penis made contact with her vagina, making you both moan slightly, moans that increased as more inches entered her cavity.

As you expected, Kazuha's insides felt tight, although you had to admit that it was less than you had originally imagined, because the truth is that most of your cock entered without any problem. You gave her a few seconds for her insides to adjust to your size before you started moving.

You started to move slowly, moving in and out slowly and careful not to hurt her, but she seemed to be enjoying it.

“God, you're stretching me so much... It feels so good.”

That gave you the green light to increase the pace, your hips moved faster, introducing you deeper into her. At this point, her pussy was already able to swallow the entire length of your penis without problems.

Kazuha's moans quickly turned into pleas, letting her get carried away by excitement and asking you to go even further.

“AH! Please…more… AH…MORE!”

She raised one of her legs to your shoulder, leaving her foot at the height of your head, leaving the other still resting on the bed. That only deepened your attacks against her even more.

You wrapped your closest hand around the thigh of her leg that was hanging from you, and your other hand went behind her head, grabbing the back of her neck, bending over her, and moving at a hard and incessant pace.

Kazuha's intense moans were only stopped when your lips joined hers in a kiss, just as intense as the clash between your hips. Everything was so intense that tiredness immediately began to appear in you.

After a few more minutes of fun, you wanted to change positions, now lying on your back on the bed, motioning to the girl to sit on your lap with her back to you.

You kissed the back of her neck and her back as she got into position, turning her head for a moment and demanding another kiss on the lips that you didn't deny her.

She raised her body enough so that in one quick movement your cock entered deeply inside her again, causing a sensation of incredible pleasure in both of you.

The girl placed both hands on your thighs to begin jumping on your penis, again and again, without stopping and emitting sweet and erotic moans for each thrust that your cock gave her as it lowered her body.

You wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her back, causing a small cry of surprise from her and causing her back to collide with your chest.

You once again had control of the situation, you once again imposed the rhythm of the penetrations to your liking and what was best for you.

From this position, you were once again able to attack Kazuha's neck at will, which for some reason had become one of your favorite regions of her body, and she seemed to love it too.

Your bodies were totally immersed in the heat of the moment, eager for each other's contact, roaring for sex, and sweating from the furious action, the temperature of the room had risen some degrees since you entered through the door.

Once again the idol raised her legs, surrounding them with her own arms, preventing them from falling, thus making your attacks clean and direct against her pussy, which you began to notice how it contracted, squeezing your cock against its walls, making you moan louder.

“Shit, Kazuha, your pussy...”

“Please don't stop now! I’m so close!”

Listening to the girl's request and with the aim of releasing yourselves sexually as soon as possible, you gave everything you had left, placing your hands on her butt and attacking her frantically, feeling how after some hard thrust you came brutally, filling the condom with your cum.

“AH! YES! OH GOD! AAAAAAAAAH!”

That liberating scream was followed by her body arching over yours, your hands quickly rising to her hips, pressing her against your body again, and leaving both of you gasping noticeably trying to recover from the intense orgasms.

Kazuha leaned her head back with her body resting on top of yours, trying to compose herself from the tremendous ecstasy you had made her feel. She turned her head to look into your eyes, just inches from your face.

“Now I can understand Chaewon unnie.” She murmured, offering you a soft smile, trying to hide her tired expression.

You, on the other hand, did not hide it at all, you continued searching for air almost desperately, and the fact of having her on top of you did not help, but the truth is that you were not going to complain about it.

“You are definitely very flexible.” You spoke, making her laugh softly, and then kissed her lips, passing your arms around her stomach area, surrounding and hugging her, lying there for a few minutes.

.

.

.

You left the group's apartment after making sure that Kazuha was in good condition. She said goodbye to you very happily, with her eyes giving off a special shine and giving you a small kiss on the cheek, making you both blush.

You drove back to your own house, a little rest wouldn't hurt to clarify all your ideas, but with a firm decision. You had to end your sexual encounters with idols immediately. That was obvious, but would you be able to cut it short? You assumed only the future would know for sure.

You entered your apartment, tired, extremely tired, but you still managed to find the energy to move your butt to the bathroom and get into the bathtub for a long half hour that left you almost as good as new.

You were now wearing your two-piece pajama with a shirt and pants, walking around the living room while drying your damp hair with a towel. You heard the sound of the doorbell, it seemed that the delivery man you had contacted had arrived to deliver your dinner. You put the towel aside, and with your hair still a little wet and messy that fell on your forehead, you approached the door.

You opened the door, but, to your surprise, the person on the other side was not who you expected. A young girl with black hair tied up in a bun, somewhat taller than average and with a slim but very elegant figure.

That girl seemed very familiar to you, the fact that she was wearing sunglasses late at night made it a little more difficult for you to recognize her, but you quickly realized it.

“Wonyoung…”

The sudden sound of a slap echoed throughout the house, silencing you. Your left cheek turned a reddish color at the same time as a burning sensation began to sting. Your face was now looking to the side due to the unexpected slap that the young woman had given you.

You took a step back, trying to stabilize your body so as not to fall, and directed one of your hands to the affected area of your face. Your eyes were wide open, as was your mouth, you didn't know what was happening, unable to understand anything.

When you returned to this world, you looked towards the door again, finding yourself facing the wall of the hallway.

You ran out of your apartment, finding Wonyoung a few meters later walking towards the exit of the building.

"Hey! Jang Wonyoung! What the hell do you think..."

You grabbed her arm, applying some force, without excess, to make her turn towards you, but your words fell into the void when you glimpsed her red face and how some tears formed a path from her eyes, hidden behind those sunglasses until they ended up on her chin.

She didn't say anything, you could only hear her weak crying and sobs that penetrated your soul and stabbed directly into your heart.

Still confused, you loosened your grip on her arm, and with that she got rid of you, setting off on her way again, but this time you didn't follow her, you stayed there, absorbed, with no other possibility than to see her back moving further and further away.

[sh1-n0bu]

bello, not sure if your taking requests so this will be my little thirst😼

was thinking about the elf bf and how intimacy is so foreign to him! How good your touches feel on his heated skin but what was this odd feeling? The coil in his tummy getting tighter with each grind of his hips on your thigh. The feeling felt so weird.. it feels good? is this good? he doesn’t want to disappoint you, or worse, scare you away! so he stops himself, letting his hips slow their grind for a moment. Inadvertently edging himself!

id like to imagine if he touched himself he would stop before cumming as well, he doesn’t know what it is! it feels so odd, makes him feel hot all over!

After he slows his grinds, you would be a bit confused…, does he not want to cum? or does he want to wait til your inside him? it takes a bit before you even think that maybe he hasn’t gotten that far before, the idea that you get to corrupt him making your face heat. Goodness he would be so pretty, teary eyes begging for you to slow down. Hips bruised from how rough you had grabbed him!

and to think, when he finally cums? its so overwhelming. heat spreading through his body, mind numbing as his legs twitch slightly? his pretty cock leaking onto his stomach? GOOD LORD I NEED IT💥💥💥

ty for listening nobu🫶🏼 we love you pls dont die

(low key my first ask, hope you enjoyed as i dont write much)

bellooooo, me is not taking requests for now but im still open for brainrots/thirsts!!!!

good lawdddd y’all gotta stop corrupting me more, my horny level can’t keep up guys. so i haven’t read the history of middle earth and all abt the biologies and cultures of the races tolkien created but i have come across multiple posts or points of people pointing out that sex and intimacy is an extremely important and raw thing. like how a constant friction creates fire over time and how that fire spreads into a wildfire that consumes everything, that’s how it is to elves and their culture. courting is important and it could go for a very long time until they decide to officially tie the knot. yet even after getting married, the consummation won’t happen in a while, first the couple must at least intertwine their fëa (soul) and so, the consummation act is more intense and powerful. its a very draining thing, when elves fuck, they fuck. long and hard, probably all night and into the next morning and even evening perhaps. they’re immortals, they have a monster amount of stamina

so with this info in mind, u gotta realize that elves do have knowledge of sex, how it usually feels etc and how near sacred it is to their kin. love is a fragile thing that will cross their eternal life only once and when they love, boy do they love. yet something tells me that despite having knowledge of sex, masturbation and other fleshly pleasures, they don’t participate in it much. its like they barely have anything that gets them pent up or sexually frustrated until they fall in love. and if it is a mortal? oh boy, they are confused and yearning. it’s like an instant neuron activation for them

the poor elf would barely know what to do with these thoughts and imaginations of you and him in such a compromising position. images of you guiding him through your first times together, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings into his sensitive, pointy ear while he shrivels with embarrassing noises on your lap. oh how those calloused, hardened hands would feel when tightly fisting at his cock, draining him dry and milking every last drop of his cum. how those long, thick fingers would feel when thrusting inside him, scissoring him open and making him squeal. good god, don’t even get him started on the dirty images he thinks of you when he looks at those arms and thighs of yours, he’s imagining himself riding that muscle until he soils his pants or how your hands would push his head down to fully swallow your cock into his throat

would it taste as how it is described in the eroticas? would your precum be salty as your thick cock head pushes past his soft lips with your soothing voice instructing him to “open wide, puppy”? would you be so mean as to fist at his gorgeous locks and fuck into his mouth, use him to your own pleasure? he would be a good puppy for that, taking whatever you had to give him with red cheeks and hands obediently held on his lap. like a good puppy, he would open his mouth, tongue out like an eager little dog waiting for the taste of his favorite snack as you stroke your dick, a low moan falling as he finally taste your load shoot into his awaiting open jaws

and when his dirty thoughts are finally granted and turned into reality? he’s a goner. scrambling on his feet, tripping over his words, mind blanking as he feels your hands grope his ass over the linen of his pants. feeling like a young ellon rather than the full grown elf he is when your hands fiddle with the buckle of your belt, gulping down the saliva in his mouth as he sees your strap spring out of your undergarment

with a shaky hand, he would grip your strap, meagerly stroking his hands up and down with a stuttered “i-is this okay…?” oh dear stars, how badly you wanted to just fuck him dumb right then and there, seeing the cute pouting lips, big eyes staring at you for an approval as he weakly asks for your preference. how fast he is to crumble when he feels your rough hand wrap around both your and his own dicks, stroking them together with a slow pace, occasionally spitting on them. his mind was already blanking, and he was sure that he had already came into your hand the moment you touched him

“w-wait a—annh!! mmh uhnng♡︎ h-hold owwnn♡︎ i ju-ust c-came! i came alreanngh already...♡︎!!” the poor elf weakly cried out, falling back into the sea of soft pillows as his hands shook by his chest, where he held them close to himself. he was sure you could hear the rapid beating of his heart, embarrassed by the noises he kept letting out despite biting down on his lips to shut himself up. poor sweetheart, doesn’t even know that the thing dripping down onto his stomach is his pre-ejaculation and not his cum! “shh shh… it’s alright, darling. i’ll be sure to teach you all about the fleshly pleasures tonight♡︎” and you were going to absolutely ruin him

sweet virgin elf who crumples into a heap of mess after experiencing his first cum. moaning and even squealing as his hands flailed around, unable to choose whether to hold onto your arms or to claw at the blanket beneath himself as you continue to keep going despite his whines of having already came. you were so mean, quickening your pace and even squeezing your dicks together, he was so sure that he blacked out when you first did that or swiped a thumb over his oozing tip. arms covering his face to hide the flush of his cheeks and the drooped ears, crying out to you that he was going to die. so dramatic

“sh-stooohpp..! stop stopstopstop—stop it♡︎♡︎! i came!! i nyaagh ungh guhc—came! i alreaawdyy camee…♥︎!” the elf cried out, already slurring his words together as his hips grind back and forth on the bed until your free hand comes up to keep it down in place with a bruising grip. your sweet boyfriend could only cry out, a broken whine falling as he shook his head, looking down at your hand that held down his hip before shifting to look at where your cocks were touching. held together in a tight fist, your hand already soiled with his cute load of precum as well as his stomach. he never noticed it before but gods, your strap was dwarfing him in size and girth. he would surely die if he takes that big thing inside himself!

but when you don’t seem to hear his pleas and only continue to fuck your strap and his weeping cock together in a faster pace into the tight grip of your fist — even rocking your hips forward too! — the poor elf was sure he was going to see the bright skies of valinor that night. whimpers turning into broken wails, punched out sobs of your name falling out of his now bloodied lips as he covers his face with his hands. he could feel the hot tears that fell from his eyes, wiping them away with cute pathetic sniffles as you tighten your fist just at the heads. another squeeze and one more before he was crying out your name in a shrill scream, his legs around your hips tightening, shaking even, as he finally feels himself cumming alongside you. translucent colored seeds mixing together, dirtying his stomach and even shooting up to his heaving chest

“…s-shoo goowdd… aaanh hhagc—♡︎ c-cum..♥︎ cumming ’gainn hhgaaa♥︎ ughk haahg [n-naawme], [namenamenamena—]♥︎♥︎” the elf sobbed out weakly, a putty in your hands as he feels his cock slowly grow flaccid. if it weren’t for the rough pads of your fingers tracing circles around his clenching rim and the feeling of your clean hand push away his hands from his face, your elf bf would have most definitely been sure that he had died and was re-embodied. yet despite the fuzziness in his brain and the way his blood seemed to circulate too quickly through his veins, his body unconsciously pressed itself against you, against your fingers as if seeking for more pleasure

thats enough thirsting yall, go do yalls assignments

[omega-e123]

Unwombing Day

Really self indulgent. It was my birthday back in December and I got to do none of the things I wanted to.

For the past two months, meticulous planning had been made. Ideas upon ideas on how to celebrate your birthday were scribbled in a mini notebook. Days leading up had him checking the weather incessantly. There was even a back up plan for when it rained instead of snowed. Placed he could drive you to and still stay toasty warm. Plus, Shadow knew that you didn't mind sitting in a car while it rained. Pitter patter of droplets hitting the roof had a calming effect.

Instead of it raining, clear skies, or even a mild snowfall the world had decided to shut you two in. Snow was accounted for, but not a whole blizzard. Roaring cold winds plus the quickly accumulating snowfall foiled each and every single plan to take you out on a nice birthday date.

Frustrated, Shadow apologized to you constantly, "Forgive me. I hadn't expected for this to happen. I will make it up to you." He thinks on the spot on what could be done to salvage this despite your reassurance that it's no big deal. So far the only thing he was able to cross off his list was a late breakfast in bed.

"I have an idea! How about we make something together?" You suggest, placing an arm on his shoulder.

He rsises a brow, "Make something? What do you have in mind?"

"There's this trend that has been going around where you take a few minutes to paint something and then trade the canvas. What do you say?"

"I'm not particularly artistic," Shadow replies under his breath.

"And that's perfectly fine with me!" You begin to pull away from him and make your way to where you've stored your art supplies. "It's about spending time with each other!"

"If that is what you want, I have no objections."

Art supplies are neatly arrenged atop the coffee table. For the next few hours, you two spend time chatting around and painting. Shadow was not in the slightest overexaggerating when he claimed that painting wasn't his strong suit.

Didn't matter.

It was interesting to see where his mind went. Looking up you can see him spend at least a solid minute staring at the canvas. Occasionally Shadow would narrow his brows and stare at it hard, lightly chewing on the brush end in hand. That's when you knew he was thinking of what to add. When those eyes were relaxed and a smile sneaks onto his face, it was easy to tell when Shadow was simply admiring the work already done. Those moments.. you sneakily cancel the timer and restart it. Leaves him a little more time to paint and a little more time for you to 'inconspicuously' watch him. Honestly, it gave you the idea to paint each other right after.

Not once did either of you get frustrated with the other during the activities. It's fun trying to think of how to incorporate the other person's additions to create a cohesive painting with each pass. At the end of it, you two signed the corner of the pieces and hung them up.

The sun was starting to set.

Shadow heavily insisted on making dinner by himself only to be shot down by you. “It’s my special day!”

“Exactly why I wish to spoil you.”

“I thought it was supposed to be whatever I say goes. What I want is to help you make dinner.”

No matter what he’s say, it seemed like you had a rebuttal. ‘If it makes you happy’, he supposes. Truth be told, this is the most quality time you two have spent with each other in a long while. Part of the day wasn’t going to be spent on you waiting on him to finish cooking!

A compromise was eventually reached where he did most of the work while you watched and helped on the side. More so you guided Shadow a lot.. of the way. His skills in the kitchen has improved exponentially. Before it was only soups and instant microwaved food. Now he’s able to create an edible meal so long as he has instructions.

With your help, dinner tasted great. The ambiance of decorated flowers in the middle plus a few carefully placed candles really set the mood. Why do to a busy restaurant where you can barely hear the other person and have to wait a while for over priced food? At home it’s quiet. There’s no rush to finish the plate. Plus, you get a fun little activity together.

Shadow took your empty plates and brought them over to the sink. As you were about to protest, the power went out. The only thing giving light to your surroundings were those candles. “Looks like the dishes will have to wait,” he states, washing his hands.

Dejected, you sigh, “I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie.. Looks like that’s out of the agenda.”

Nodding Shadow replies, “I understand. Is there anything else you would like to do?” Just as things were turning out okay, the power had to prove him wrong.

“No..“

His ears flop down, feeling sorry that the day hadn’t gone as planned.. or even unplanned. No cake. No ice cream. No hot chocolate. Not only that, opening up the fridge would make whatever is inside spoil faster if the power doesn’t come back on soon enough.

The last thing on the list he can think of is your present.

Shadow asks you to get more candles out to light up the room. At least one in each room. Meanwhile, he beelines it to the closet and searches all the way in the back behind a small dresser. It slides forward to reveal a meticulously wrapped box about half the size of a pillow. He returns to the living room to see you setting up the last candle on the coffee table.

“Oh! Shadow! What do you have there? It’s a bit hard to see even with these.”

The hedgehog takes a seat on the couch, gesturing you to join him. You comply and plop onto the soft cushions. “What’s that?” Again you ask, pointing at the box.

“This is.. your gift. I apologize for being absent so often. It must be lonely for you to wait so long for me to come home,” Shadow replies in a soft voice. The present is passed onto your lap and he gives you the ‘go ahead’ to rip into it. “Truth be told, I had help figuring out what you’d like.”

One by one the layers are torn off. “Help? Shad, you do know that whatever you get me I will cherish no matter what, right? Even if you got me nothing, your presence alone today is all I could ever ask for.”

A hearty chuckle is mildly muffled by gloved hands attempting to hide his shy smile. “I figured you would say that.”

In the box revealed a small doppleganger of your beloved partner. Tears well up from how absolutely adorable it is. It’s so soft! So squishy! The craftsmanship is amazing. This little plush is the spitting image of the ultimate life form, down to the teeny smirk on his face.

“Shadow this is..!” You pull it in for a tight hug, smooching it on top of its head before burying your face in the fluff.

Already he can feel the jealously bubbling in his chest. It should be him getting all that love! Not the little imposter.. Ah, how ridiculous— becoming envious of a stand in. “For when I’m away on long missions. He can keep you company. “

Lavender scent fills your nose. How unexpected! Lifting your head up, you beam, “Thank you so much Shadow! I love him!”

Gck…

“Of course, not as much as you,” you quickly add.

“How did..?”

“It’s written all over your face, silly.” Pulling away from the plush, you give another good look at it. “Buuuut.. I think the little guy looks much more cuter,” you add before peppering it in kisses, “and he doesn’t mind all of the rapid fire smooches.”

Shadow huffs and yoinks the doll from you. “I’m right here, you know. One thing it can’t do is kiss you back,” he claims, boldly kissing your cheek. “That and kiss you like this.” With a finger and thumb, Shadow tilts your head and envelops your lips with his own.

“Shadow, my heart.. I might have to pay more attention to your clone if it gets you to act like this,” you whisper, slowly leaning towards him to take back your gift.

“Hmph.”

[ronwestbreeze]

too slow

pairing: miguel o'hara x spider!fem!reader

warnings: angst heheh. spoilers! small scenes of somewhat explicit nsfw. mentions of death!

summary: the both of you would come back from this. you would...right?

word count: 4.9k

author's note: did i come out of hiatus just to post a angsty miguel fic? yes. you know i had to as y'alls fav angst queen

part 2

No matter how far you left that spider life behind, he somehow managed to pull you back in.

And god you tried so desperately to stay away. To refuse him.

Miguel O’Hara just had a way with you. He always did. 

Sometimes you wished you were stronger.

The moment you stepped into your apartment was when all of your senses struck your spine and made you freeze in your doorway.

No one else would have known to continue forward cautiously by leaping up to your ceiling and crawling the rest of the way into the apartment, high on alert. Then again, no one else was you. At least not in this universe.

Your spider senses got worse as you crawled toward your ajar bedroom door. When you were close enough, you dropped down as quietly as you could to the floor. One hand preparing a web to shoot and the other raising toward the door to push it further open.

Only you freeze all together.

A sharp tingle struck your back.

Behind you.

Of course, you were quick. Without turning toward the intruder entirely, you shot a web to grab a large vase sitting on a nearby table in the short hallway and swung it behind you. They dodged the vase just as fast and you instantly shot both of your webs toward the intruder. Only for them to be caught by them with both their hands.

“I’m disappointed, Domino.”

It was a mistake to let your guard down by only a little. It was a mistake to instantly recognize his voice.

“Miguel—AAARGH!”

A sudden yank from the webs caused you to fly forward until an iron grip wrapped around both your wrists. Until you were facing the scarlet and blue mask of the one Spider-Man you never expected to see again.

“Too slow.” Even with the mask, you could hear his smirk.

Now that you were aware of who you were dealing with, the tension in your muscles lessened. Just a little.

Some part of you wanted to say “You shouldn’t be here” but since you weren’t in the mood for a long and exhausting spout with the man, you took the more easy and straightforward route of the conversation.

“Why are you here, Miguel?”

His hold on your wrists loosened but he didn’t let go right away. Which was to your dismay as you really didn’t want to be this close to him. Not when you knew that both seeing him now and now having very little space between the both of you would compromise your senses, your steeled will.

And yet you didn’t pull away.

You watched quietly as his mask disappeared, trying your very best not to get too drawn into his features like you used to. Resisting the urge to run your fingers through his dark locks, tugging on some of them like the old days.

Stop.

That was a long time ago.

And it should remain that way.

Unfortunately, Miguel didn’t appear as strong or restrained. The way he hungrily looked at you wasn’t missed but it certainly wasn’t voiced. By either of them. That was something they wouldn’t touch right now. Probably not ever.

When his forehead gently brushed against yours, when his scent overwhelmed your nostrils was when you forced yourself back on solid ground.

“Miguel.”

Eventually, he also had to pull himself together. Eventually, he dropped his hold on your wrists and walked around you, putting a good distance between the two of you. Warily and curiously, you watched his movements.

He gestured toward the shattered pieces of what once was the vase, “I bought you that, you know. That was rude.”

“So is breaking into someone’s apartment.” You retorted dryly. 

Miguel suddenly took out a small object that shone in the gentle light of the sunset, “I still have a key.”

You huffed, “Imma need that back.” You tried reaching for it, only for Miguel to quickly yank it out of your reach, the beginnings of a smirk forming on his face. That’s when you grew annoyed. 

“I thought you were never gonna come back to this universe again. Remember? You went on a whole tangent about it.”

“Mmm.” Was his response at first. You silently watched him tuck the extra key away into some invisible pocket in his suit. “That was only after you said you were never coming back to the team” You tensed at this as the memories came trickling back. “Or coming back to me—”

“So what’s changed?”

Miguel frowned, “I need you—”

“No.”

You reframed from smirking at the twitch in his jaw, at the way his trained mask momentarily slipped at your obvious stubbornness. You gestured in the direction of the front door, “If that’s all, the door’s over there—”

“It’s Electro.” That, of course—he knew it would—made you stop. It was your turn for your mask to fall, just enough for Miguel to notice as well. The intenseness in his features softened, “It’s your brother…he somehow made it into another universe—”

“When do we leave?” Miguel had the audacity to look surprised. You glared, “I’m not doing this for you, O’Hara. It’s like you said, he’s my brother. After that, I’m done for good, you hear me?”

With that, he schooled his face back to a controlled mask. One that meant business.

“Whatever you say, Domino.”

You wince and send him another glare before stalking toward your bedroom to change.

Ever since he started calling you that name, Domino, you’ve hated it. It originated from a mission gone bad—mostly for you—and he hadn’t stopped calling you Domino since. It was mostly because you had been knocked down into a bunch of trash cans that happened to be in a long line. 

Hobie said you tumbled like a stack of dominos. Miguel never let that moment go.

Fuck him.

Yet despite your hatred for it, you never discouraged it. You just liked the way he said it. You liked the way his voice softened whenever—

No. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck. Him.

After this you wouldn’t ever have to see him again. You wouldn’t ever have to be wrapped up in his shadows, in his overwhelming way of showing…

Fuck him.

It was odd being back in your old suit. Frankly, it felt dated as you swung around in it. There was an itching part of you that wanted to update it, get new designs, and test them out of your suit. Self-restraint was a challenge during that mission. Especially around Miguel.

Thankfully, Jessica and Hobie showed up so it wasn’t just you and Miguel facing Electro—or in other words your estranged brother. It was already enough having to face family drama, but then you add a frustratingly unlabeled drama that kept interfering with your focus.

“Stay on your side, O’Hara!” You snapped when you dodged an electric zap sent your way.

“Don’t be a child!” Miguel shot back.

“I’m not! We agreed Hobie and I’d take left and you and Drew would take right! You are not holding your end of the agreement!” You landed on a nearby pylon. “Which is no surprise!”

Another blast came from Electro, this time aimed at Miguel and Hobie. Hobie was able to swing out of the way and land on the same tower with you while Miguel landed on the other side, “What the hell is that supposed to mean!?”

“She means you’re an asshole, bud.” Hobie added.

“Nobody asked you!”

“Hey!” Jessica shouted from below, steering her motorcycle toward Electro, “Less fighting like children and more getting this guy before he causes the entire city to go dark!”

The fight hadn’t gone on for long. Eventually, you were able to confront your brother up close despite Miguel’s protests against it. Yet you were the one that knew your brother the best, who was he or anyone else to tell you what to do when it came to him? Certainly not, Miguel. Leader of a secret society or not, this was your turf. He asked you here and you would complete the job the way you knew how.

There was a point where you managed to get Electro at a somewhat calm and the thrilled part of you was ready to prove Miguel right. But unfortunately, family bonds wouldn’t save you in this situation. It wouldn’t tie anything up in the neat bow you were expecting.

The blast nearly threw you entirely off the building if not for a bunch of webs catching you in mid air and bringing you back up. Miguel and Hobie managed to subdue Electro thanks to your unintentional distraction while Jessica was the one to pull you back to your feet.

“Damn, babes, that was a close one.” She gave an amused smirk. “Just how long have you been out of the game?”

“Shut up, Drew.” You grumbled despite the other woman’s grin.

Coming back to HQ was the very last thing you wanted to do. But you wanted to make sure your brother was properly dealt with. Even if that meant dealing with Miguel’s bullshit along the way.

As you entered the computer room, Miguel’s mask came off, “What the hell was that back there?”

“Domino doing Domino things.” You mutter dryly.

“Yeah you are.” Hobie held up his hand for a high five, which you reluctantly gave.

Miguel sent him a scathing scowl before turning back to you, “You think this is funny? You could’ve gotten yourself killed back there!”

“I had it handled.” You gritted out, removing your own mask. “He didn’t need everyone coming at him all at once. If you had given me a few more minutes with him—“

“But we didn’t have a few minutes, did we?” Miguel snapped quickly.

“No, of course not.” You crossed your arms, ignoring how he stood taller than you. Ignoring how he would’ve appeared menacing if not for your pissed off mood. “Because everything has to go O’Hara’s way, right? Fuck everybody else.”

Hobie smirked from the side of the room, his mask also removed, “I missed her. ‘ow come she’s not around often, Bossman?” 

Miguel’s jaw twitched dangerously because they all knew Hobie never referred to him as “Bossman” unless to piss him off. because he knew that Hobie didn’t respect him as much, and didn't care for him as a leader. Bossman was just Hobie being a little shit, in Miguel’s words at least.

“It was fucking reckless.” Miguel seethed. “And as usual, you’re too immature to even realize what you did. What could’ve happened—“

“You brought me here!” You snapped back, as venomous as his fangs. “If you don’t like my way then you should’ve left me the fuck alone!”

“Guys, come on.” Jessica sighed, already used to the both of you like this.

Miguel was fuming and trying so desperately to hide the fact that you easily worked him up this way. And him failing at hiding it only made him pissed off even more. 

He hissed, turning his back to you.“I was being considerate. For your sake. It was your brother after all…It was a mistake bringing you in. I should’ve known fucking better.” 

A bitter laugh left your lips, “Finally! We can agree on something!” You stalked out of the room with Hobie trailing behind you—you were used to him following you around—as you muttered, “Let me know when you’ll be sending Max back.”

Just as you left the room, there was a loud crash and Jessica snapping at Miguel.

When your brother was finally sent back to your universe so that he could be sent to a cell powerful enough to hold him, you left HQ and didn’t look back when you did. Swearing to yourself that it would be the last time you would ever allow yourself to step back into that place. To allow yourself to set your eyes upon him again.

Unfortunately, that promise didn’t last too long.

Despite yourself, you started messing with your suit designs. Adding new stuff to make it look less dated than before. But that didn’t mean you were back to that spider life. No. Not one bit.

Hobie swung by your dimension and suggested that both of you went crime fighting for the day. And you only agreed just so your fighting techniques weren’t so rusty anymore. But you weren’t back in the game. Not one bit.

Then Jessica came to visit, claiming that she wanted you to see the progress in her pregnancy and catch up as friends. Which then led you to following her into another dimension to fight another Rhino, which was a great success.

Fuck, you missed this.

And you were tempted. You really were tempted to swing through your city as their Spider person again.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt after all. Didn’t mean you had to face Miguel. Yes. That was fine.

In the next month forward, you had started your crime fighting as the spider person of your dimension. A new suit and refreshed skills, you felt unstoppable. You even brought out your dimension traveling bracelet. Just to go and visit Hobie and Jessica whenever. Just that.

Soon, Jessica took on a new protege. Spider-Gwen. She was a nice kid and started coming over to your dimension with Hobie whenever they had the time. You liked her alot. She was like a little sister whenever she came around. Same as Hobie being like a younger brother to you.

At one point you found yourself back at HQ—you were honestly terrible at keeping your steeled will—but only to return a few bad guys to their respectful dimensions. You had fully planned on avoiding Miguel—at this point you hadn’t seen each other since your spat a month ago—and going back to your dimension.

That was the plan at least.

“How come you never go with us to see Miguel?” Gwen asked while the two of you watched one of the villains being sent back to their dimension. “You two don’t get along or…?”

Spider-Byte snorted and you sent the hologram a glare, “They have a special history, newbie. You’ll see someday.”

“Quiet, kid.” You mumbled, crossing your arms before addressing Gwen, “Yeah…we don’t get along. It’s best for the both of us that we aren’t in the same room together, right now.”

“Is it?”

You tried your very best not to allow your face to fall into shock at his voice coming from behind you and Gwen. Really, you should’ve expected that to happen.

Miguel approached the two of you, glancing briefly toward Gwen but his eyes remained glued to yours. “Drew’s asking for you. Says she needs your help on Level 4.”

It took you a few seconds to realize he had been talking to Gwen as the blonde nodded her head and disappeared out of the room. Spider-Byte threw on some headphones and continued with her work. In other words, it was just the two of you. The very opposite of what you had planned and wanted.

“I hear you’ve been coming around here a lot more often.” Miguel mused as he brushed past you, his arm grazing yours as he did. You watched him, a lot less hostile than you thought you would be. Instead, you only stared at his back muscles. “I didn’t know you’ve become quite the contradicting person.”

You shrugged, hugging your arms closer to you, “I’ve just been helping Jess and Hobie out. S’not a big deal.”

A sound came from his throat, similar to a chuckle, “I also hear that the White Spider is back on the news.”

“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?” You instead said, one of your brows raising slightly. “When did you start that up again?”

Miguel glanced over his shoulder, his face unreadable, “Who says I ever stopped?”

You smirk, trying to hide how tight your chest felt at his words. At how soft his voice had gotten.

“Look who’s become contradicting now.”

Miguel was quiet at that.

You tried to continue your original goal after that frustratingly vague interaction. You weren’t really sure where you had stood with him after that. Sure, you still were hesitant to rejoin the society fully—mostly because of him—but now you were going on missions with some of the members and helping Jessica train her protégé. At this point, you were practically back, just without the official stuff.

And now you were on a mission with Miguel. You hadn’t been on one of these since your fight. Piece by piece you were just breaking your own promises, your stubbornness was weakening. Your spine had shaken.

Damn him.

No matter what you could never resist Miguel.

You could tell it was the same for him.

“You should go home.”

“Do you know how many times you’ve said that and I’ve still ended up staying?” You leaned on the doorway entrance to his quarters with a smug look on your face. “I think you should give it up by now.”

Miguel was topless. After a particularly long mission, a lot of the team had come out with some cuts and bruises, Miguel wasn’t exempt from that.

You watched as he was cleaning his wound on his left shoulder, only that put too much strain on his bruised side every time he reached his right hand over to tend to that shoulder. For a few more minutes you watched him keep going at it before you sighed and eventually stepped in.

“Stop.” You smacked his hand to the side gently and took the bloodied cloth from his hand.

Miguel tensed, “Domino—”

“I’ve got it.” You told him sternly. “We don’t need you reopening your stitches. Just relax. I’ve got you.”

Your words had disarmed him and caused him to loosen the tension in his muscles at your gentle touch. The wound wasn’t too bad, at least not as bad as the one under his right arm. Once the blood was wiped away, there was just a bit of purple coloring. The blood must’ve been from someone else.

His breaths fanned against your own shoulder. You didn’t forget how close the two of you were in that moment. It was more like you were trying to distract yourself from the fact.

Instead, a small smile tugged at your lip, “It’s been a minute since you’ve been injured.” You noted the light scars on the other parts of his arm.

“Not really.” Miguel grunted, ducking his head down as he rested his elbows on his knees. “I got hit a couple months back. Only difference was that you weren’t there to lick my wounds clean.”

“Do you always need me to?” You joked halfheartedly.

A small tug upward in his lip made your heart skip, “I would prefer it better than being alone.”

“I thought you liked being a loner.”

“Not these days.”

You knew you were treading dangerous territory but the question left your lips before you could rethink it through.

“Did you really want me to go?”

Underneath your fingers, you felt him inhale, slowly.

“Honest?”

You scoffed, “I wouldn’t be asking if I wanted to hear a lie.”

Over his shoulder, he stared at you. A part of you wanted to shift under his intense gaze, a part of you wanted to look away sheepishly but you bravely held it. Though the change in your grip was probably a dead giveaway at your nervousness.

“If it were up to me, you wouldn’t have ever left my sight.”

You tried not to feel too overwhelmed by his words, knowing it was your own fault for asking. For even bringing it up in the first place.

So instead you snorted, “Wow. Sounds awfully possessive—”

His other hand grasped the back of your neck and brought you toward him, your lips connecting. His desperation for you was clear. And your resolve had slowly fallen—no that was such a lie. It had quickly crumbled the moment you felt his touch, the moment his lips were on yours, the moment you felt his desperation sink into your skin just as easily as his fangs would.

When his larger body moved on top of you, you knew your resolve had fully broken. Completely gone. When his lips found your neck, you were gone. When his hips rutted against yours, your mind was gone. When you finally felt him sink into your being, when you felt him inside you—god you never realized how much you had wanted this until now.

No. You knew.

Miguel held your hands down to the bed sheets, only you managed to slip them from his grip and find them tugging and running through his hair, legs wrapped around his hips to pull him closer.

You felt him smirk against your neck, “My stubborn girl.”

And just like that you were back into a cycle in which you swore not to fall into again. Only, this time the two of you didn’t make it known to the others. It was a silent choice between the two of you to keep whatever this was to yourselves. It was better that way you realized.

But as time went by, you knew it would be a little more difficult to hide it. Miguel was touchy. It was fine on days where it was just the both of you, when the both of you were working on something together. Yet on the days where you are around others, such as missions, you know he can’t help himself. And neither can you.

The both of you were terrible at hiding it in the end.

Hobie was surprisingly observant.

“You’re lookin’ cozy now.”

You glanced up to find Hobie lounging about as you were looking at videos of different dimensions. “Let it go, B—”

“I ain’t sayin’ shit.” He shrugged. “Just noticed a few things is all.”

And the two of you left it at that. Never really spoke on it again. Hobie now knew. And Jessica had eyes and a brain, she probably already put two and two together. Especially with you coming to HQ a lot more often now. Even the newbie, Gwen, took double takes every now and then whenever she saw you and Miguel together.

“You seem particularly stressed tonight.” You hummed to him on another night—this time in your apartment, squirming as his cock twitched inside of you.

Miguel looked down at you, a brow raised in challenge, “Can’t take it tonight, baby? Usually you like it a little rough, hmm?” He buried his face into your neck, his thrusts slower than before. Gentle nips at your neck that would sure to leave bruises the next day. Just the way he liked it. The possessive shithead.

“And yet, you’re still stressed.” You whisper next to his ear, breathing out a sigh of pleasure.

Miguel grunted in reply and remained at your neck. Until he slowly pulled away to rest his forehead on yours. He sighed against your skin, “Just another anomaly. Nothing we can’t fix.”

You smiled with a soft hum, “You always do anyway.”

His lips were pressed into yours, a hint of a smile shaping his mouth, “Not just me.”

The anomaly problem never went away it seemed. Soon Miguel got buried deep into his work. You were fine with it, already used to his committed work habits. Besides, you had your own world to manage. You weren’t just waiting all night for him to come home like some girlfriend slowly practicing patience. No, instead you had your own thoughts to keep you busy. But you still managed to find time and visit HQ. To visit the others. To visit Miguel.

It wasn’t until the anomaly was formed into a single person. Another Spider-Man. A kid.

Miles Morales.

Gwen told you about him a few times. How he was the first friend she made after her Peter’s death. You remembered wanting to meet the boy with how much Gwen kept talking about him. And you told Gwen this as well. That they should plan a day to go visit him. Unfortunately, that day never came to fruition.

The unfortunate part was the why.

“What are you not telling me about this Miles guy?” You already knew the answer. You weren’t stupid. You just wanted to know if Miguel would tell you. Would trust you with the information.

Miguel had his back turned to you, facing the screens when you stalked into the room to ask him this. “He isn’t your concern.”

“Bullshit.” You cross your arms. “Clearly, you said something to Gwen. And Jess. Hell, even Hobie. What are you not telling me, Miguel? Why is Miles Morales so important?” You narrow your eyes challengingly, “Or rather, why does he make you so nervous—”

“Enough, Domino.” Miguel said through gritted teeth, trying desperately not to snap at you. “He isn’t your concern. Let it go.”

Hobie had already filled you in on the details before you had come to Miguel about it. The information in itself was troubling, yes. But what was even more troubling was why you were hearing it from someone else other than Miguel. Why did he want to keep you in the dark about this?

That’s when your eyes landed on the old video of him and his daughter. The daughter he lost on another Earth.

“Fine.” You frowned. “Don’t tell me.”

Miguel still had his back toward you. You scoffed and turned to leave. You would’ve been fine to leave it there. That was the one thing the two of you disagreed on the most. The canon stuff. Your sister had to die for it. That’s why Max had become what he had become. That’s why you had left the society, left him in the first place.

Restarting all of this. Thinking you could forgive.

But there was no way you could’ve ever forgotten.

You had to stand by and watch your sister die because it was a part of canon. Because Miguel cared for you and your world so much that he did not want to see it unravel like his did. A part of you wanted to believe that—maybe there was a small part that did—but that didn’t change the grief nor the terror. You just hoped.

Hoped. And hoped. And hoped….

Eventually, you did some research for yourself. Apparently, this Miles guy hadn’t lost his parents but his uncle. Apparently, he was supposed to lose his dad once he became captain. There was nothing you could do about it if it was supposed to happen. You certainly couldn’t tell him that was going to happen.

You couldn’t do anything….

Until you could.

Hobie appeared in the middle of your living room that night.

“I quit that place.” He shrugged, flopping down onto the couch next to you. “But I suggest you suit up, yeah?”

“Why?” You furrowed your brows, placing down your book you had been reading until he unexpectedly arrived.

“Because I ‘ave a good feelin’ you are the only person that wouldn’t like what’s about to happen. What’s currently happening.”

This time you frowned, an aching feeling tugging at your chest.

“Hobie. What’s going on?”

It wasn’t long until you were flying through the HQ, following all of the spider people as they chased after one thing. One person.

Nobody had known you were there. Nor what you were there for. You had blended into the crowd of spider people, flying around, swinging around until you spotted a blip of the boy that they were chasing. And you saw Miguel, Gwen, and Jessica going after him.

All that you knew was that he was alone. The boy was alone. He needed at least one person at his side. One person who understood what he was going through right then.

By the time you had gotten to the speeding trains, Miguel had Miles pinned down to the top of the train. He had yet to see you. But there was no doubt he would sense you. There was no doubt that he would see your flashing figure, zipping toward him. There was no doubt that in the corner of his eye, he would see you flying at him with a kick and landing it just perfectly, and in time before he could prepare to block you.

Now you stood in front of Miles as Miguel rolled away before clawing his hand into the top of the train to keep him on it.

You removed your mask and grinned, “Too slow, O’Hara!”

“Y/N!” Gwen stared at you in shock.

“Who’s that?!” One Spider-Man with a pink robe—and a baby—attached to him questioned in confusion.

Miguel crawled to his feet. In the corner of your eye Miles jumped off the train and disappeared in seconds. “What have you done?!”

You shrugged, “Nothing yet. That depends on you.”

“Y/N, don’t!” Jessica shouted. “You can’t beat him!”

Miguel’s face was twisted into a scowl, mixed with both betrayal and anger, “She’s right, Domino. You can’t win. You’re on the wrong side!”

You pulled your mask back on and melted into a fighting stance, “I don’t have to win. I just have to give the kid more time.”

For a brief second, the scowl was gone. This look was only for you to see. The same look he wore when you first quit the society.

They were back to where it all began. This was the cycle. It was bound to happen. You knew this. He knew this.

“I don’t want to fight you.” He gritted out. “Stand down, Domino. I’ll only ask this once.”

Not once did you budge.

“I hope we come back from this, Miguel.”

You dashed forward.

Miguel let out a roar of anger and dashed toward you.

The two of you would meet in the middle. And for a second, you really wondered…

Would you? 

Would you come back from this?

[sylus-doll]

Synopsis: You tend to forget that Sylus is a dangerous man. There are moments when reality decides to slap you across your face. It reminds you that he is unhinged— an untamed force of incomparable power.

Warnings: Death; he kills someone. People, actually. Sylus doing his job. Descriptions of violence, blood, etc. Licking of said blood (done by MC [you]. Don't ask why, I'm ashamed). MC (you) lowkey being obsessive of him because why not.

Author's note: Felt unhinged. Comments and reblogs are appreciated. <3

Your time spent with Sylus is always pleasant. Even with the constant banter, filled with your witty remarks and his teasing. It feels right. Everything seems to fall into place when you stand by him. This is natural; to embrace the rough edges of the other and sharpen it with your tongues. It feeds into your unlabeled bond. Two people dancing, never intertwining— not yet. Not lovers but not quite discernable from it.

Sylus is not forceful. At least, not anymore. Very persuasive at best. He knows exactly how to tug your heartstrings. You think it is because Mephisto has been out on “kitten duty” as Sylus so affectionately puts it. Just a nicer terminology of stalking you. He takes the time to learn more about this version of you. Invites you into his territory, his home. Has the twins deliver you clothes, trinkets, and whatever else he knows you love.

Anything that money can or cannot buy, it is yours so long as he thought of you while obtaining it.

“I thought this necklace from the auction would look nice on you. Throw it away if you don't like it.”

Sylus never tells you how much it costs. Or the price of anything he gifts you, for that matter. You know the number is likely to be in the millions. That's what he does— spoil you endlessly and ask that you discard whatever is not to your liking. You've tried protesting, insisting such gifts are far too much. And he does tone it down. But he could never resist adorning you in glorious luxury every once in a while. All he says is that you could stand to be a little greedier.

It goes beyond material pleasures. Sylus knows when you step into the N109 Zone, sent by the association to deal with whatever they need done. Sometimes through Mephisto, sometimes because you tell him. After every mission, whether it ends in success or failure, you'll know he's not far away. Mephisto's incessant caws only cease when you follow him back home— back to Sylus. What welcomes you are a set of red eyes, a quirked brow and a soft tug of his lips. His thumbs in the pocket of his pants, waiting for you as he always did.

Rinse, repeat.

Too comfortable. You've become complacent with that routine, and you are reminded of who exactly Sylus is. Infiltrate a protocore auction; that was your mission this time. An Aether Core fragment was rumoured to be the star of tonight's show. You should have expected Sylus to be here, too. Why would he not be? He was always interested in Aether Cores. The scene before you is familiar, the only difference is the man you've grown accustomed to.

“Well? What's going through your head? Don't tell me you've forgotten what exactly I do, sweetie.” He looks at you, piercing, bored. The term of endearment tastes bitter on your tongue, how ironic.

But you already learned that this expression is simply a mask. Sylus cannot afford to lose anything, so he gives away nothing. Only you could tell, of course you could. His breaths are heavy, deeper. There's a slight tremor in his voice. He stays deadly still as the bodies that lay at his feet. Splatters of blood on his cheek. Crimson coats his fingers, dripping, he's painted an eerie silence of death.

You had been compromised. One of the attendees blew your cover. And soon enough, the guns were pointed at you before you could even raise your fists. Yet, the bullets never came. Black-red mist decays people. Whoever was closest to you met their demise through Sylus's gun to their heads or even his bare hands. You watched the spectacle, rendered incapable. The stark contrast of the Sylus you know and this— this man who is the leader of Onychinus.

So why are you not afraid? This is who Sylus really is. Who he has to be despite the warmth and safety he provides for you. The same hands that cradle you are tainted, the heart he has given to you have rotten bits. A monster, soaked in an ocean of blood that only grows with each day. But it is still a heart, yes? He still chooses to love you, yes?

You walk towards him, stepping on carcasses. His thumbs are in his pockets; he's waiting for you again. Always. This time, you reach for them. This time, you nuzzle into his palms like a cat starved of affection. You look into his eyes and don't break away even as you lick his fingertips clean. Sylus's hands were meant to cradle you, damn whoever's blood decided to taint what's yours.

“You always said I could be greedier with you. Don't start complaining now.”

[wwilsonbarness]

i messed up...

pairings:  bucky barnes x pregnant!reader

summary: you go against what you and bucky agreed, how will he react?

warnings: angst, pregnant reader, asshole bucky, none more i think?

word count: 1219

a/n: Bucky's a major ass in this but i have part two started if anyone is interested :)

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

part 2

masterlist

You didn’t mean to mess up this bad, you just wanted a normal day, a day where you could leave the tower alone without an Avenger there to protect you. 

You knew what you signed up for when you and Bucky became official. He had told you so many times that being with him put you at risk but you didn’t care, you loved him too much to be without him. He had insisted that since that day you would have someone there to protect you at all times, you knew it was in a loving way it was a lot to handle, and ever since you and Bucky discovered you were pregnant it had only gotten more intense. You knew it was for the better but it was suffocating you, which is why you went to the store alone this morning. It wasn’t far from the tower and you would be back within the hour, surely nothing could happen in that time?

On your walk home your phone started to buzz, and not just once but it kept buzzing until you opened the chat and the messages started loading in. They were from Sam, the first was a picture of you, from just 15 minutes earlier, you were reaching up to the top shelf in the store and your shirt had risen up, making your bump slightly more visible. How someone noticed that you have no idea. The rest of the text messages were fairly calm but the last one made you panic.

Sam

where are you? let me know you’re okay please Y/n are you safe?  He doesn’t know yet. 

Shit. Bucky was going to be furious at you, he had told you so many times not to go out alone because of this very reason. Now everyone was going to know that you and Bucky had a baby coming. You and Bucky had both agreed that you would keep your pregnancy between as few people as possible, for the baby’s safety and now you’ve compromised that. Only the other Avengers, your family and a couple of friends knew about it. 

Unintentionally you slowed your pace for the rest of your walk, sending Sam a quick text to let him know you were safe and on your way back.  You were scared to face Bucky but at least you could tell him yourself before he found out online or by Sam. 

It doesn’t take long even with your slow pace to get back, you hesitantly push the button for your floor, mentally preparing yourself for facing Bucky. He had been especially insistent on keeping your baby away from the public because of his long list of enemies and being a part of the Avengers meant that list was forever growing. 

When the lift dings and the doors open you pause for a second before stepping out, first you check yours and Bucky’s bedroom but it’s empty so you head for the common room. When you walk in Bucky’s there, as well as Sam, Tony, Natasha and Steve. At first glance things look normal, and no one notices you walking in until you speak. “Hi..”

That’s when Bucky turns around, his jaw was clenched together, brows furrowed, anger practically seeping out of him. He knew. You want to apologise but you can’t manage to get any words out. A few seconds pass before Nat’s voice breaks the silence. “Are you okay Y/n?” You nod towards her, fidgeting with your fingers trying to distract yourself from the shouting match you knew was about to begin. You’d seen Bucky angry before but never this much and never because of you. 

“Bucky, I’m so-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence before he interrupted you 

“Did you not listen to anything I said to you? Did you really just ignore everything? I told you this would happen but what? You just did it anyway?“ 

“Buc-“ He wouldn’t listen, his words were spilling out of him. He didn’t even know what he was really saying. He was just so scared and angry at himself for not protecting you and your baby. 

“You’ve seen what the people we deal with can do and you still acted like a complete idiot.” You could hear muffled sounds of Sam and Nat trying to stop him from going any further but all you could focus on was Bucky’s words.  

“No. How could you make such a careless mistake?” 

Your eyes were growing wetter with each word he said but you tried to keep yourself composed. You didn’t feel as if you had any right to be upset, you were the one who messed up. 

“I wasn’t trying to..” You attempt to interrupt him and defend yourself but at this point you knew that was pointless. 

“I mean seriously,” He pauses for a moment, contemplating his next words, “it’s like you don’t care about our baby at all.”

Oh. That one hurt. He had to know you cared right? Your baby was everything to you. Could he really think you didn’t care?

Tony had stayed quiet up until now. “Enough James!” He screeched from behind Bucky, “I won’t let you talk to Y/n like that, either calm down or leave my tower.” 

You knew he was going to be angry at you but you were not prepared for this much of it. Bucky stares at you for a few seconds before he walks out, dropping his head down to your stomach and scoffing as he does so. Now it wasn’t just anger you felt from him, it was disappointment too. 

You can’t bring yourself to move from the spot you’ve been standing in since you arrived, the only thing breaking you out of your trance was someone’s hand on your shoulder. You weren’t sure who until they spoke. “Y/n? Are you alright?” 

It was Sam, you manage to turn to him and stutter out, “I‘m sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” He brings his hand up to your head and pulls you gently towards him for a much needed hug. “He’s not angry with you, he’s just scared. It’s gonna be okay.” 

“I just wanted to do something for myself, I don’t want to have to rely on an Avenger everytime I want to go to the store.” 

“I know, he shouldn’t have gotten angry like that. I’m not making any excuses for him but he’s never felt love like he does for you. You and this baby are everything to him, he’s scared to lose you.” 

“Do you think he’ll forgive me?” Your voice is quiet, almost too quiet but Sam can just hear you.

“I know he will, he just needs some time to cool down.” You nod your head against Sam’s chest, part of you knew Bucky would forgive you but an even bigger part of you believed you had messed up too bad. 

You reach into your bag and take out the small white teddy you bought, when you read the words printed on its tiny outfit you start to cry harder. It read, “Best Dad Ever”, you just hoped Bucky would forgive you so you could give it to him. 

If you could go back to this morning and change your decision you would. You just want things back the way they were. 

[lure-of-writing]

Little sister: Knock before you enter

Summary: Maybe Rhys should knock before he enters

Word count: 1.6k

Rhysand had many titles and jobs he was required to upkeep and fulfill. The most daunting title of all; your brother. And as your older brother it was his job to keep you happy and safe but how is he supposed to do that while being high lord, tending to his court, being a new father and a good mate. It was safe to say that he had been falling behind in that area of his life and by no means were you upset with him. Truthfully if Rhysand was willing to admit it to himself you were probably happy to not have him breathing down your neck every two seconds but as your older brother he couldn’t let his lack of time keep him from checking in on you. 

Flying to the house of wind he greets Cassian and Nesta in the kitchen having breakfast after what he could only assume was a long training session. Of one kind or another. “Good morning, have you seen my sister by chance?” He stopped to grab a piece of fruit that sat in the basket on the counter. Nesta shook her head in a no motion while bringing her cup to her lips to take a sip. “She wasn’t at training this morning.”  his general responded. It wasn’t unusual for you to skip training every now and then but since befriending Cassian's mate you made it more of a point to be consistent in your routine. Something most definitely had to be off. The high lord nodded at his family members and silently made his way to your bedroom and once your door handle was within reach he pushed the door open without any thought. 

The second his eyes took in the scene before him, he really wished he would have knocked. At least to give Azriel the chance to winnow away before he caught the two of you in a compromising position. “Well good morning to you too.” Your light laughter felt like a slap in the face and your brother directed his gaze to the ceiling. Azriel said nothing as he continued tightening the lace of your corset as if this was another normal day for the three of you. It in fact was not another normal day for the three of you.

In the middle of the room stood you and Azriel. Your back facing him while he gently pulls the strings of the fabric together in hopes of tightening the fabric to be flush with your body. Neither you nor Azriel seemed fazed by this arraignment. Rhysand made a mental note to ask his shadowsinger about that later. Right now he was trying to find a reason as to why you felt comfortable wearing nothing but this corset top and underwear in front of the man he considered a brother. He would also have to ask about that later. 

Coughing Rhys found the bravery in himself to look at you again for a mere seconds before shifting his gaze to literally anything else in your room. “Azriel, why are you helping my sister get dressed?” Before his friend could answer you jumped in to answer for him “Because I can’t tie a corset by myself, obviously” for a few seconds you watched while your brother tried to find the right words but by the time he had found them you were already strutting across the room and into the closet to grab the skirt that matches the outfit. Putting it on before him and the spymaster. Effortlessly you pulled it up and around your waist while turning once again to give Azriel access to tie the strings of your skirt together and complete your outfit. “And where exactly are you going where you need an outfit like that?” nothing about your outfit was revealing but it was definitely one of your nicer outfits for sure. Once again your laughter rang out into the room filling it with undeniable warmth. “Fatherhood sure has made you quite forgetful hasn’t it?”  Rhys tried to rack his brain for any reason you would need to be dressed up and he couldn’t find any. Maybe fatherhood has made him forgetful. “I’m going to visit the summer court and try to fix our relationship with them and since you are quite forgetful today, here is your reminder that Az is coming with me.” Silently the two male lock eye contact and Rhys raises a brow in questioning. Az titled his head slightly in a questioning manner. “You really want your sister going to another court alone?” 

Sighing a hefty sigh which Rhys was sure would be the first of many today he shook his head. “Of course I don’t want her to go alone. I just don’t recall telling you to go with her.” Confused, Azriel asked “Who else would go then?” And honestly Rhysand had no idea. 

After one week which felt like forever knowing you were alone with his shadowsinger the two of you had finally returned. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust the two of you but he couldn’t help but remember you curled up a little too comfortably in the spymaster's lap during the family dinner and now he walks into your room and there is Azriel helping you get dressed while you're basically naked. Something about that made his stomach queasy. 

After you had debriefed with your brother about your week, your very exciting week at that, you had made your grand exit to your room to wash away the day of traveling you had endured while Azriel gave him his report of your experience. After explaining everything the two males once again found themselves in the same situation as a week ago. Silently observing each other waiting for someone to make the first move. “Would you like to explain why you were in my sister's room helping her get dressed last week?” Az said nothing for a minute while staring at his high lord. “Like you said I was helping her get dressed.” Rhysand couldn’t help the scoff that slipped from his lips in disbelief. “Az I’m not stupid. I know something is going on between the two of you just please be honest and tell me. First she sits in your lap which sure isn’t unusual for her but then when I go to get her up from you, you don’t let me. Then at the court of nightmares, which don’t get me wrong I am eternally grateful that you protected her but then she kisses you like her life depended on it and leads you off to gods know where and now I find you in her room quote unquote helping her get dressed while she's basically half naked. I would be lying if I said this didn’t make me mad but  I really just want you to be truthful with me.” 

Azriel knew just how bad it seemed to anyone but the two of you but listening to Rhys list off all the stuff he had seen you two do, did seem a little suspicious. But truthfully he could say that nothing was going on between the two of you. Sure you liked to push the boundaries of friends to lovers quite often but it was always with Azriels concent and permission and nothing more ever happened then what Rhys had witnessed. Azriel respected Rhysand in more ways than one and part of that meant never crossing the in your relationship into something more as much as Azriel really wished he could. Some part of Azriel knew that you were meant for him but he knew his high lords stance on either him or Cassian dating his little sister. And it was never an option because Rhysand would never allow it to be one. 

“Rhys, I respect you which means I also respect you that don’t want me to date your little sister. I would never do anything to cross that line and I honestly try not to but you know you sister. She likes to get under your skin and since Cassian can’t help her achieve that goal anymore she comes to me. If it truly bothers you that much I will talk to her and put it to a stop. As for last week, after training I was the first one back down into the house and she simply asked for my help. At first I denied but once she brought the corset out to show me how complicated it was I agreed to help her, nothing more was going on I promise.”

After a long and much needed talk with Azriel, Rhysand had finally made it back to his bedroom and his wonderful mate. Once the couple had caught each other up on their day things started to escalate and before he knew it he was starting to undress Feyre. Suddenly the bedroom door slammed open and there you were standing in the entrance of his room staring at him expectantly. After a very lengthy pause of the three of you glancing at and forth at each other you finally speak. “Rhys what are you doing? Feyre is a grown woman she can undress herself. She doesn’t need your help.” with an exhausted sigh you watch as your brother rubs his weary face. He knew exactly what this was about. “Maybe next time you'll knock before entering.” Feyre watched as you turned around and left as if you had not just barged into their room. Without saying anything to her mate she raises an eyebrow in question as if to say “What was that about?” Sighing once more Rhysand just shakes his head before face planting into their bed. Exiting his house you make your way to where Azriel was waiting to fly the two of you back to the house of wind “Maybe next time he’ll actually knock.” The gentle laugh of the shadowsinger caressed your heart as he scooped you into his arms and took off to the sky. That was not before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @gorlillaglue25 @willowpains

[blackberries45]

Time to Pay Your Dues (Beetlejuice Drabble)

Beetlejuice x reader

Notes: Mentions of bra/underwear/boobs but no gender mentioned.

Spelling and Grammar ain’t my thing, chicken wing.

No Smut but implied heading that way

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time you really did catch him off guard. He was too busy staring to be able to stop you before you said his name thrice. Now he was just biding his time. You hadn’t caught on yet, but you weren't faster than him in the least. He was just letting you play this little game. He knew it had to be benefiting you in some way and it most certainly was benefiting him. A dead guy can only take being teased for so long though.

******

For weeks you've been playing a nasty little game with Beetlejuice. The first time you pulled it after a mischievous thought had popped in your head stepping out of the shower. Just as you were wrapping yourself with the towel, you called out his name. He was so caught up in the moment of seeing you starting to drop the towel that you banished him as quickly as you had summoned him. You cackled all the way to your bedroom and the game began.

You had managed to do it three or four times more. Each time either in a compromising position, like leaning over to grab something off the floor and your butt in the air or were in the middle of changing. You even managed to ask him once while putting on a dress if he thought it was pretty before sending him off again. You knew it couldn't last long but it lasted a lot longer than you thought possible. This time had to be the last. You could only imagine what he’d do if he stopped you from saying his name and sending him back.

*****

The matching underwear set was hot and you knew it. You had never bought yourself anything that looked quite like this before and currently had no one to share it with. Truthfully you bought it just to pull this last tease, if you were being honest with yourself. This would be it. The grand finale. It was perfect. He would lose his ever loving stupid little dead mind and you couldn't wait to watch his face. You positioned your hair and pulled your boobs up in the bra cups. Next you adjusted the panty straps just perfectly on your hips, approving of the view in the mirror. It was clear by now that Mr Beej didn't care about your stretch marks or your weight, he devoured you visually just the same each time. God you'd be thinking about this forever. Was this little game starting to turn you on? Before you lost your nerve and talked yourself out of it, three times that ghoul’s name left your lips.

Usually Beetlejuice's preferred method was to startle you or at least appear somewhere unexpected. This time, he was right in the doorway where you had hoped he would be. He was leaning against the casing perfectly, with one boot resting against the bottom of the door frame and his other leg slightly forward to push his weight back. Removing the cigarette from between his lips, he ever so slightly started to turn his head. If the light hadn't been just right to catch the glint of his blue eyes, you wouldn't have noticed that he was drinking you from the bottom to the top. Nothing about him moved besides his eyes and a slight flick to his cigarette. He took another drag and let it out, staring at you now. The gulp you made was audible and you were starting to lose your nerve.

“Do you, uh, do you like it? I got it on sale. I've never bought myself a matching set like this before but I figured it deserved to be seen by someone else who would appreciate it” The nerve came back and the smugness dripped off of you as your head slightly tilted to the side. The corner of your mouth started to go up in a slight sneer. You knew in half a second what you were going to do but truthfully you were expecting a little more reaction from him. This was taking away from the game. Was he disappointed? As the excited smile started to fade, the words started forming in your mouth but he already knew what was coming and was prepared.

Instantly what felt like a shoelace tied your lips together. You put your fingers up to your mouth in pure surprise, eyes wide as you started to panic. Beetlejuice turned away from you, taking another puff of his cigarette and letting you mumble under your restraint.

“I think I've had enough of your little game there, babes” He flicked the cigarette somewhere unseen and started walking towards you. You couldn’t help but feel some tingle of turn on even as your protesting noises became louder.

Pulling at your lips you found an end that you could start to pull. You looked down at your fingers as you started to yank on the string. Before you could continue however, in one snap of his pale long fingers, you heard the bedroom door bang and suddenly you were slammed into it. His hands were on your ass as he pinned you up against the door. You couldn't help but brace yourself on his shoulders and your face bent down to his. Still wide-eyed but mouth no longer sewn shut, you gulped again.

“I don't like being repeatedly teased without a payoff. So honey, it's time to pay your dues.” He leaned into your neck, kissing it lightly once and enjoying feeling you shiver. “Good thing you bought this on sale” he snapped your underwear band with a lazy finger against your ass “because it won’t even be worth free when I get done ripping it off you”

[butterfreetamer]

I was inspired by this piece of art by @tomatoplantoo

Cross posted to AO3 here.

Only Playing Dead

Today was a good day.  Stan was lounging on the deck whittling away at a hunk of wood that he was hoping to make into a pig.  It’d been a long time since he felt like he’d been able to just relax like this, pick up a new hobby for no reason other than he wanted to.  It was calm, which was a nice change of pace.

That was until his brother came dramatically swooping onto the deck.  “Ah!  Stanley, there you are!  Great, you’re not busy.  I need you to come with me to the lab.”

Stan sighed.  He sets down his project and gets up to follow Ford.  He’d rather ignore whatever Ford’s got going on right now, but the chances of him leaving Stan in peace seem pretty slim.  “What’s up, poindexter?”

Ford bounces impatiently as Stan pulls himself out of the lounge chair.  “I finished setting up for an experiment that requires your presence!”

Stan rolls his eyes.  “That’s not ominous or anything,” he mutters to himself as Ford corrals him into the cabin.  “Why exactly do you need me?”

“Well…”  Ford hesitates for a second.  “There is a spirit that has attached itself to you.”

“A spirit attached…”  He takes a moment to process.  “Wait, Ford, are you saying I’m haunted?!”

Ford looks a bit sheepish and then admits, “To put it simply, yes.  Given its activities it appears to be benign or benevolent, but it is still wise to investigate these things.”

“Oh, holy Moses.”  He’s haunted, and he didn’t know.  “How long do you think this thing’s been on me?”

“Well,”  Ford muses as they enter the lab, “I’ve never seen one so firmly attached to a person before, normally an attachment like this would only be to a place or an heirloom or such, and attachments get stronger with time, so it must be… at least a few decades old.”

“You’re telling me a ghost has been on me for decades???”

“Yes, I suppose I am.  You know, it doesn’t seem reminiscent of any of the ghosts I researched back in Gravity Falls.  It’s truly an anomaly!”  Ford has the gaul to look thrilled at this.

Why is his brother like this?  “I’m glad you’re having fun but can’t we just get this thing off of me?”

“Give me a moment.  With a ghost this firmly attached, it’s easier to exorcise if we can see and trap it first.  Though, as I said, given its behavior I do not believe we need to worry.”

“Right, behavior that you’ve been keeping track of!  How long have you known I was haunted before you said anything?!?”

“Only a few weeks, I didn’t want to compromise the data while I was still testing hypotheses,” he rattles off dispassionately as he digs through some papers on his desk.

Stan dragged a hand across his face, a few weeks before telling him.  “You’re impossible, Ford.”

“Yes, yes,” Ford waves him off dismissively.  “Ah, here’s my notes.  This spell should make it visible to us.  Here, hold this.”  He finishes rustling through some jars and hands him a weird smelling collection of herbs and twigs that remind him of Ma’s incense.

Stan sighs holding the bundle and lets Ford guide him into a circle of ruins Ford drew on the ground.  “Should I be worried about any of this magic nonsense you got set up?”

Ford rolls his eyes as he lights some candles.  “Please, Stanley, do you think I’d do something dangerous without warning you?”

Stan shoots his brother a look.  “You really want me to answer that?”

Ford glares back.  “There’s nothing to worry about, at most there might be a flash of light as the spell completes.”  He gives the scene in front of him a once over and nods approvingly.  “Well, we’re all set up, just need to read the incantation.  Are you ready, Stan?”

“Go ahead,” Stan sighs, gesturing for Ford to continue.

Ford nods and starts chanting in latin or something, before he knows it there’s a blinding flash.

The light clears and his vision is back and Ford has a look of surprised glee on his face staring at a space right over his left shoulder.  “Why hello there!  That explains why the spirit was so attached to you.”

There’s a hiss from behind his neck.  He tries to turn and see what’s behind him but whatever it is clinging close to him.  “Holy crap Ford, what’s going on?”

“Oh, yes, um, let me.”  Ford fishes out a mirror from his pile of supplies and turns it to face Stan.

There blue, glowing, translucent, and hovering right over the back of his shoulder was a grumpy old possum.  “Shanklin?”  He reaches up to hold the little guy and he jumps into Stanley’s arms.  “Buddy, you’ve been here this whole time?”  As Shanklin burrows his nose into the crook of his elbow affectionately, he can definitely feel his little pal, even if he’s not quite solid.  There’s a chill where Shanklin touches him but he can’t help but feel warm holding his old pet anyway.  Stan does his best to give him some affectionate scritches even if Shanklin doesn't have much in the way of tangibility.

“Definitely a benevolent spirit,” Ford says brightly as he jots down some notes.

“Benevolent!” Stan exclaims in faux outrage, “Don’t insult Shanklin like that!  He’s a no good miscreant!”  Shanklin hisses in agreement.

Ford rolls his eyes fondly.  “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”  He looks back to his notepad and hums thoughtfully.  “Now, we need to figure out what to do with him.”

Stan’s eyes narrow suspiciously, he clutches his ghostly possum protectively.  “What do you mean ‘do with him’?”

Ford furrows his brow as he continues writing in his notepad.  “Well, he’s going to need a more permanent solution for visibility and tangibility.  I can’t imagine it was good for him to go ignored all these years, we’ll need to acclimate him to interaction.  Some method of communication might be helpful, I wonder if we could make that opossum translator we tried to invent that summer?  I also need to make sure any defenses I have against supernatural interference won’t get in Shanklin’s way.  We should test the bounds of the attachment as well, make sure it’s not dangerous to either of you.  Do you think he’d appreciate a cat bed?  We could pick one up next time we’re at port.”

Oh good, Ford wants to keep him too, Stan thinks to himself, relieved he won’t have to argue with his brother about this.  As Ford sorts out the logistics of keeping a ghost as a pet aloud, he smiles fondly at the ghost that is settling into a nap in his arms.

Stan has his brother, his boat and his possum, it’s all his eleven year old self could have dreamed of.  Yeah, today is a good day.

[yandereforme]

Yan! Mafia! Batfam AU Dynamics

Part 1

TW: Murder, violence mentioned, light mentions of assault, torture, kidnapping

Also, since ages are weird in DC canon (often conflicting) I’m assigning my own choices

Bruce

Like I mentioned in my earlier post, Bruce started working towards controlling crime at a young age. He first gets the idea after his parents died, and slowly over the years he starts cultivating skills that would later become useful(fighting, intimidation, deceptive things that you can do that aren’t exactly illegal, etc.)

He still takes that backpacking trip, and he still meets the league of assassins and has his affair with Talia. The reason he returns to Gotham isn’t a crime as vigilante. It’s to fight crime his own way.

He takes on a persona as the bat, no one knows his face or real name. He garners a lot of attention from criminals, and often steal men from people who he defeats to work lower level jobs(Think Red Hood’s system)

The rugs in the say, you are a mixture of actual criminals, and alternate mob bosses. However, Bruce still keeps the Bat and Bruce Wayne very separate, though he does not utilize a Brucie persona. Instead, he makes himself seem more quiet and soft-spoken so people tend to overlook him.(Bruce does not realize that his persona is someone that is one bad thing away from going full on crazy. Everyone in high society knows something is wrong with Bruce Wayne, and just does not comment on it.)

Bruce still has his no kill rule. That does not change, but any enemy of his will tell you that there are worse things than death.

He is 23 when he adopts 8 year old Dick Grayson.

Dick

Dick joins not long after he does in canon, or at least he tries to. After he figures everything out, he confronts Bruce and says that he wants to be a part of the business. He wants Zucco‘s head on a stick. Bruce gets him to compromise. They will capture Zucco and after a few years of training, Dick will be allowed to do what he wants and take on his own role. 

For a few years, he takes the role of Robin, a terrifying person who has seen as Batman‘s little shadow, constantly following him, and smiling brightly enough that people will forget about the blood covering his knuckles.( some believe he gives the smiles that Batman never has. Others believe he is the one thing that keeps the Bat from killing.)

As he grows, Robin’s persona of a vicious, smiling distraction slowly morphs into an amazing fighter who smiles unsettlingly and bends in a way that does not seem entirely human.(about 60% of Gotham’s criminals believe that the bat and robin and all of their associates are not human. Most of them of them think demons of some kind, though there is a smaller portion that believes that they are embodied souls coming back to enact justice)

Nightwing is not a reality in this world(since that is a story learned from Superman.) Instead, criminals learn to fear Nightingale, a distractingly, beautiful person whose voice tends to make you mesmerized so you don’t see the bloody intent behind it. The underground calls him a siren, and Dick is very good at making people tell him what he wants to hear.

In this AU, he switches to Nightingale after Tony Zucco is finally killed. Bruce had kept Zucco in a cell for years, until Dick was old enough to do what he originally wanted. Dick kills him in an act of final revenge, wearing his family’s colors. After the death, he decides he doesn’t want to dirty those colors anymore.

It becomes a commonly known fact that Robin doesn’t kill, and neither does the Bat. But once they get their own costume, you have to be cautious of the fact that some of them don’t have a no kill code.

Dick is 17 when 12 year old Jason is adopted

Jason

Instead of stealing from Batman, Jason is caught stealing tires of Bruce Wayne’s car. The rest of the interaction follows canon though.

Before Bruce formally adopts him, he tells Jason who is surprisingly okay with it.(Jason grew up in Crime alley. He knew what the Bat did with the worst of the worst, and how the Bat made life more live able.)

He and Dick don’t get along in the beginning, but after an attempted kidnapping at a gala, they get better.

The two incarnations of Robin are very different. Dick’s Robin was loud and haunting in his joy, beating people bloody with a smile. Jason’s Robin was softer in a sense, brash but polite. He was careful to only injure in places that they could recover from, and helped a lot of the victims(people whispered that he was the innocence that Nightingale had lost, that the Bat never had.)

The only people he didn’t care about hurting were the abusers and assaulters, men drunk on power. (More and more people started believing the re embodied souls theory with Jason. He seemed the most human of all the Bat family)

Then, when Jason was 15, he was kidnapped as Robin, and Gotham was never the same.

Note: Thank you all for being so interested in my writings. I don’t know if this is good or not, I’m sick at the moment and just wanted to finally write this. Let me know what you think!

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Chapter Fourteen

Word Count: 3452 Warnings: some suggestive thoughts/actions, mentions of past abuse, more pining, fluff, minor alcohol use, several large timeskips Notes: There is actually no possible version of this chapter that I'm fully happy with lol. But I hate this one the least. And I hope y'all still find it somewhat enjoyable XD All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider indicates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

AO3 | Masterlist

The snow came down heavily most nights over the next few weeks, and Lelia was stuck in the cottage more often than not, leaving Simon to continue scavenging alone. Food wasn’t as plentiful in the village as they’d hoped, and at one point, Simon brought back two dead, clumsily skinned squirrels after his hunt. Lelia was horrified, shrieking in disgust when she saw them, and then tearing up out of pity for the poor things.

She ate them anyway.

It wasn’t all bad, though. She managed to convince Simon to let her paint his nails after she caught him watching her do her own. He objected to the sparkly pink color she was using, so they compromised on a pretty shade of light blue. He’d gone silent and looked at it for a long time when she first offered it to him, and he’d seemed almost… sad. Or perhaps lost was the better word. When she’d tried to ask him about it, he’d just shrugged and stayed quiet, not even letting out a grunt or groan. She’d pursed her lips in concern, and spent the next hour trying to cheer him up by telling him how stunning he’d look with his new nails.

Simon had pretended not to be amused, but she could tell that he was.

Today, she was reading him poetry when she was struck with a sudden thought.

“Simon,” she said, getting his attention. He opened his eyes, staring up at her from where his head was laying in her lap. She bit her lip, hesitating for a second, but then continued. “Would you… I mean, you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, of course, but— would you like me to try to teach you how to read?”

Simon didn’t answer for a long moment, didn’t so much as move, and she started to worry that she’d upset him. She didn’t know why he couldn’t read—he had to have been able to at some point, to be a soldier, but she didn’t know if he had lost the ability before or after he died. She didn’t even know if he knew.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, when the silence got to her. “I wasn’t— I didn’t mean to presume—”

Simon cut her off by sitting up and cupping her cheek with one hand, looking into her eyes. The cloudy film on his own had begun to fade two weeks past, showing hints of the brown beneath. It was nice to finally know their color. Just like the dirty blond hair, brown suited him.

Neither of them knew what it meant, that it was coming back. Neither of them dared to hope, either.

“Yyeah,” Simon grunted, tapping the poetry book and nodding. “Llllearn… yyeahh.”

“Yeah?” Lelia echoed, a slow, tentative smile blooming on her face. She felt his thumb dig into the apple of her cheek lightly, and it made her blush. She quickly looked away, down at her book. “Well… I’ll have to grab some paper and a pen, then. We’ll start by relearning the alph—”

Simon’s hand moved to grip her chin, lifting her face again. A small, stuttered breath left her, her eyes widening as they looked into his once more.

Is he going to kiss me?

As soon as she had the thought, she realized how stupid it was—not just because Simon didn't have lips, but because he couldn’t possibly see her in such a way, either.

Do I want him to see me in such a way?

Do I see him that way?

Simon was still staring at her, slightly-less cloudy eyes raking over every inch of her face. His broken jaw quivered where it hung, drool sliding out the corner and down his chin. Without thinking about it, Lelia reached up to wipe it away. A second later, she blinked in surprise at the instinctiveness of the gesture. But what was there to be shocked about? She cleaned his drool all the time. She always had. And she always would.

Oh. Oh.

She sucked in a deep breath, feeling dizzy as the realization rocked through her. She loved him. She loved Simon, her zombie, her protector, her only friend. She felt stupid that she hadn’t noticed her own feelings sooner—how many times had she thought about how handsome he was? How many times had she thought that he was the only person who had ever made her happy? That she was selfishly glad the world had ended, because it had brought them together?

It was so obvious, she almost laughed. But then Simon let go of her and tapped the book again, and the spell was broken. She delicately cleared her throat, trying to ignore the way her heart raced in her chest, and the way her whole world felt like it’d been turned on its head. She could agonize over what she was supposed to do now, how she was supposed to act like everything was normal when she was in love with a zombie who would never love her back—or she could teach that zombie to read, like she had offered. She could avoid ruining her relationship with the only person to ever care about her, or she could risk it all.

Lelia had never been very brave.

“I’ll go get that paper,” she said, making her choice. 

Time passed.

He spent most of it in genuine fucking domestic bliss with his dove, cuddled up with her in front of the fireplace when the snow kept her trapped inside, and exploring the village with her when it didn’t. Every little treasure she found made its way back to their cottage, turning it into something resembling a home. She’d even collected a few children’s workbooks for him, and she’d looked so excited that he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed—especially not when they actually helped. He could recognize the first dozen or so letters of the English alphabet, now, all thanks to her. His beautiful miracle worker.

“Hold still,” Lelia scolded him lightly when he reached over to try and run his fingers through her hair. He grumbled but relented as she batted his hand away, focusing back on his bare arm, which was laid out on the kitchen table, palm facing up. She was carefully filling in his tattoos with a fluffy makeup brush and a bunch of colorful eyeshadow. The pallet she’d found the other day was massive, with over two dozen shades, half of which were downright ugly, in his opinion. He also didn't understand why anyone would need five different hues of blue, but Lelia had been ecstatic about that, so he supposed it wasn’t entirely stupid.

His dove had spent the last hour turning his greying, translucent skin into a damn rainbow. Purples, pinks, reds, yellows, oranges, greens, and all those shades of blue filled in the spaces between the black lines of his tattoos. He felt like a bloody coloring book—but it was worth it to see the proud little smile on Lelia’s face when she finally straightened up and set aside her brush.

“There,” she said, pleased. “Now we match.”

She batted her dark lashes at him, drawing attention to the light blue powder on her eyelids. He groaned. Loudly. Lewdly. But she just giggled, innocently unaware. Christ, she had no idea the things she did to him…

It was getting harder and harder to keep his desires to himself. She’d had another wet dream in his arms just the other night, and he nearly gave in right then and there. He'd wanted to touch her, to taste her, so fucking badly. It was only the memory of her teary, devastated face when she’d confessed about what that bastard of a husband used to do to her in her sleep that had him slipping out of the bed instead of slipping his hands into her sleep shorts.

Ghost was a monster, had been even before he died and came back wrong. But he wasn’t evil. He wouldn’t do that to her. He would never hurt a hair on her precious little head.

“You’re sniffing me again,” Lelia pointed out, and Ghost grunted as he leaned back, putting some space between them. He had been sniffing at her hair like a damn dog, without even realizing. Bloody hell, but that never stopped being embarrassing. “Do you need to go hunt?”

He shook his head, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly before standing up and fetching one of his workbooks from the shelf over the table, along with a pencil. Lelia smiled brightly, clearing away the makeup so there was space for him to practice. He sat back down and opened the book up to the last page they had worked on—one covering the letter N.

“Do you want a refresher?” His dove asked, but he shook his head. The letter was recognizable to him now, as were the ones that came before it, and he was eager to move on. He wanted to be able to read again, to write again. It would make communicating with Lelia so much easier.

“Alright then,” she said, turning to the next page for him. It just looked like two N’s smushed together. “This is the letter M, like in Mama. It makes a mmmuh sound when used in a word. Mmmuh. Mmmuh. It's written like this…”

Lelia loved Simon so much it hurt.

The thought never left her alone, not since she had realized it nearly a month ago. The ache in her cheeks from constantly smiling at the sight of him, the way her heart raced whenever he touched her, the not-nerves that squirmed in her belly when he let out that deep, rumbling growl—none of it would let her forget, not even for a second. Now that she was aware of how hopelessly in love she was, it was all she could think about.

She was sure she was doing a terrible job keeping her feelings a secret, but Simon never seemed to notice. Nothing changed between them, at least. She was simultaneously relieved and disappointed at that fact.

They were currently searching the only section of the village that they hadn’t been in before. Simon had insisted on sweeping the area before letting Lelia step foot in it, like a chivalrous knight of old from her favorite stories. She barely refrained from confessing then and there. Instead, she’d just told him to hurry back, her arms wrapped around him in a hug.

As ordered, he made it quick, returning only ten minutes after he’d gone. So of course, when an hour later a zombie stumbled out of a closet Lelia was looking for new clothes in, he blamed himself. Doubly so when she tripped and fell into a broken window trying to get away, the sharp glass splitting her skin. She could tell by the way Simon reacted, sprinting into the room at the sound of her scream, an inhuman snarl tearing from his throat as he tackled the zombie to the floor and ripped it to shreds.

It was the first time since the cabin that she’d seen him fight another undead, and though it was scary, it was concerningly attractive, too. There was something wrong with her, she was sure, because the sight of Simon covered in gore and viscera, chest heaving, teeth bared… it made her heart race and her body feel warm.

But just like every other time she feared she was being exceedingly obvious about how badly she wanted him, he was oblivious. She found herself almost wishing he would notice, or that she could find the bravery to tell him, because living like this was painful.

But not as painful as it would be if he found out the truth and left her because of it.

Lelia insisted on cleaning Simon the second they got back to the cottage, refusing to let him have a look at the cut on her arm until she’d brushed his teeth and helped him change into fresh clothes. He’d fought her on that, but there were very few things she was stubborn about, so when she decided to be, she went all in. Only when she’d made it clear that she’d bleed out before letting him treat her wound while covered in zombie guts, did he finally relent. Even then, the second she was done, he scooped her up and carried her into the living room before plopping her onto the couch. He briefly disappeared into the kitchen, only to come back with a bottle of cheap whiskey to sterilize her wound with.

He poured a little bit of alcohol onto a clean rag and set the bottle down on the coffee table, before beginning to disinfect the deep cut on her forearm with gentle ministrations. It stung, but Lelia didn’t so much as twitch, used to far worse. Instead, she stared at the whiskey curiously.

It smelled something awful, nothing like the top shelf liquor her father and husband used to drink. Lelia found herself itching to try it regardless—neither man had ever let her have anything more than half a glass of champagne. Hard liquor wasn’t ladylike, after all.

She’d had a terrible dream about Andrew last night. Just the memory of it—hands, pushing her head underwater as his cock forced its way inside her—made her shudder. Maybe it was that—that need for reassurance that she was no longer his pretty little art piece to destroy on a whim—that had her reaching for the bottle. Maybe it was her brush with death earlier that day that had her taking a generous sip. Whatever it was, she regretted it instantly, the whiskey polluting her mouth with a taste so foul she thought she might be sick. It was even worse going down, burning her throat and making her cough like someone dying of tuberculosis.

Simon laughed, that familiar, gravelly chuckle settling in her chest, warm and heavy. Or perhaps that was the whiskey. Either way, she wanted to hear it again, so when Simon reached for the bottle to take it away from her, she pouted and took another, big sip. She gagged in between her coughs this time, but it was worth it. It was so worth it, because suddenly, Simon’s cold fingers left her bandaged arm, plucking the bottle from her grasp and setting it back on the table, before he tugged her off of the couch and into his lap. He gathered both her wrists in one hand, pinning them between their chests as he took her chin in the other. He swiped his thumb over her bottom lip, wiping away a drop of alcohol.

“Naughhhhh’yyyy,” he groaned, low and playful, and Lelia sucked in a sharp breath, eyelashes fluttering. The warmth spread outwards from her chest, and a shuddering gasp escaped her, hot air ghosting over Simon’s fingers as she fell into his touch, irresistibly drawn to him. She could have sworn she saw his own cloudy, speckled eyes darken, and felt his loose grip on her wrists tighten. Wishful thinking, probably, but she was struggling to think rationally between the slight buzz of alcohol in her brain and the dizziness caused by his touch.

Lelia shifted a little bit, straddling his strong things. Her heart raced in her chest and part of her knew she wouldn’t be so bold if not for the whiskey—but maybe that was why she had drank it after all. She just wanted to be as close to Simon as possible. She’d tuck herself inside the hollow of his chest, if she could.

He could be inside you.

Lelia shivered at the thought. That nervous squirming sensation in her belly was back, but she knew by now it wasn’t fear—it was something she had never experienced before, at least not to the degree Simon’s touches caused. No, it was the feeling she got when she saw a fit actor on the telly take off his shirt. It was the feeling she got when her Year Eleven English teacher—a handsome, slightly older man that wore reading glasses and sweater vests—called her a good girl for helping her fellow students whenever they didn’t understand the material like she did. And shamefully, it was the feeling she sometimes got—very rarely—when Andrew or the soldiers took her. But this time, there was no terror or disgust attached to the moment. There was just Simon, and how he made her feel. Safe. Treasured.

Aroused.

Simon was silent and still beneath her. He’d let go of her wrists, and his hands drifted down her body to settle on her hips, thumbs slipping under the hem of her sleep shirt to rub circles into her flesh. She swallowed, and then leaned forward, until her lips pressed against the hard plastic of his mask, right over his forehead. He shuddered, grip tightening, and Lelia moved her lips lower, kissing the spot just beneath his left eye, then his right.

“Please,” she begged Simon, voice soft and needy. “Please take it off… I want to see you. I want to see all of you.”

Simon stared up at her with an unreadable look in his foggy eyes, taking deep, rattling breaths even though she knew he didn’t need to. But then he jerked his head to the side sharply, a denial.

“Sssscaa’eee… yyyyouuu,” he mumbled, looking away. Lelia’s heart broke, and she tried to gently turn his face back towards hers, but he wouldn’t budge. She sighed, resting her temple against his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his neck, eyes still trained on him.

“You could never scare me, Simon,” she whispered. “Never. You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel safe.”

Don’t.

Ghost knew he should listen to the voice in his head—not Johnny’s, for once—and refuse. He’d traumatize his sweet little dove if she caught a glimpse of him. He could see it all too clearly—the second his gaunt, rotted face was revealed to her, she’d start crying and lock herself in her room.

But she’d asked, and he was pure shite at saying no to her.

Slowly, he reached up and began to lift his mask. Lelia’s eyes widened and she straightened before going perfectly still, watching with rapt attention. He swallowed thickly, fucking terrified that she would scream and run away. That this would ruin everything between them.

“Please,” she whispered again when he paused, hesitating. He gave a full-body twitch, but then yanked his mask the rest of the way off, like he was ripping off a plaster. She gasped, and Simon closed his eyes, unable to stand the sight of the horrified expression that was bound to be on her face.

Several seconds of silence passed, but then suddenly, he felt Lelia’s plush lips on his forehead. His eyes snapped open as she began to pepper his face with lingering kisses, just like she had his mask. He could feel the softness of her skin, the feathery touch and addictive warmth.

“You’re so beautiful,” she breathed in between kisses. Simon could barely hear her, entranced with the delicious, searing heat of her mouth on his cheeks, his nose, even his broken jaw and the corner of his lipless mouth. “Thank you… thank you for trusting me… for caring for me… for saving me… Simon, I—”

She cut herself off, pulling back to look into his eyes. As his hands found her hips again, he watched her carefully, a part of him still waiting for rejection.

“I love you, Simon.”

I love you. I love you. I love you, Simon.

Lelia’s soft words rang in his ears. He let out a choked noise, his hands squeezing her so tightly she whimpered. He immediately let go of her, and she looked at him with a mortified expression.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a rush, blinking rapidly as her eyes grew shiny. “Just— just forget I s-said anything, I shouldn’t h-have, I’m sorry—”

Simon didn’t have lips to kiss his dove with. He didn’t have the words to tell her how badly he wanted her. He couldn’t press her palm to his chest and show her how she made his heart race, the sensation just a phantom of memory.

But fuck, if he wouldn’t bloody well try.

He laid a hand over her heart, and recalled one of the first poems she read him—a favorite of hers, she’d said. Carefully, he spoke.

“Cccaaaarrryyyy thiiiiisss,” he patted his own chest with his other hand. “Innn hheeeerre.” The tears in her eyes spilled over, and finally, finally, she surged forward, her mouth crashing against. And for the first time since he’d died, Simon felt truly human.

[parvulous-writings]

Could I request headcanons for Wyll, Rolan, and Zevlor react to being stuck in close proximity with gn crush?

Warnings: None!

Notes: These may be a little short/uneven, but these were so cute to write!! Anon, you've become such a prominent asker, that I'd love to give you a nickname of some sort, if you're comfortable with that! <3  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Wyll

Wyll is a gentleman about the whole situation - or at least he tries to be. He gives you as much space as he is able to, even though he's squishing himself into a corner, he's more than happy to do that so that you're comfortable.

He tries to keep up conversation with you, to try and distract from the somewhat uncomfortable situation; mostly mundane questions, like 'What's your favourite...' or 'Have you ever...' It's also partly to distract you from the fact that his cheeks are burning hotter than the hells. Who'd have thought it'd be easy to fluster the Blade of Frontiers, even if it were only slightly, by being so near to him?

He cannot take his eyes off of you. Not even for a moment. He tries, at first, but finds it astronomically difficult, and eventually just gives in. He loves gazing at you - your presence brings him such peace, even in such a compromising position such as this.

Once the two of you are found/make your way out of the confined space, Wyll apologises - even though it was not his fault - and offers to make it up to you at some point, by however you see fit.

Rolan

Rolan is entirely speechless. He cannot find the words to say anything to you, not even a half-handed snappy quip. His eyes rarely meet yours, and are rather more often aimed off to the side, or somewhere above your heads. It's... Quite awkward.

You try anything to break the silence between the two of you; "Can you move your leg, please, Rolan?" Followed by a quiet shuffle as Rolan tries to move a little bit further from you but still remain comfortable. It is of little use on either front, but he tries. Any question of "how are you feeling?" Or "You okay?" is met with either complete silence, or a quiet grunt of acknowledgement.

Rolan doesn't know what to do, he's never been in a situation like this before - much less a situation where he can't find the words to express himself. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, harder than he can recall it ever being in his life. He's entirely tense, and he has no idea what to do; his normal confident facade has completely crumbled away, leaving little besides anxiety, and a slightly fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever you speak.

The first chance he gets after the pair of you can separate, he all but disappears from view - for several hours. You had wanted to talk to him about it, but couldn't find him anywhere. Eventually you do find him, but as soon as you bring up the situation, he turns his gaze from you; "I... Would rather not dwell on the situation... If it's all the same to you." He's just too flustered still to be able to process any of it.

Zevlor

Zevlor is constantly asking how you're feeling. "Are you sure you're well?" followed a few minutes later with, "Is there anything you need? ... Yes, I am aware I can't go and get anything, but I'm sure you understand the sentiment..."

He constantly asks you if you're alright, comfortable, etc. Neither of you know how long you're going to be stuck in this situation, so is completely understanding of the constant need to shuffle to keep your limbs from going dead. This being said, he'll always tell you if he's going to try and move himself, just so that he can try not to kick you, and you can brace yourself just in case of this outcome.

He tells you of his time in Elturel before it's descent into Avernus, his time as a Hellrider, all sorts. He finds it very easy to share things with you, since he's so sweet on you - it would usually take some probing for anyone to get that kind of information out of him. But, since he would like to establish more of a relationship with you, he's willing to part with some of it.

Once the two of you are out in the open again, Zevlor double checks that you're okay. "I would have hoped to have had some of those conversations in a more... Traditional way. But, I suppose, one cannot deny the deft hands of fate, hm?"

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Akatsuki Headcanons: Halloween with their Darling

Featuring the Akatsuki and how they would spend Halloween with a Darling that loves the spooky season!

Itachi

Itachi is rather introverted and doesn't like parties or loud events. He could, of course, put on a smile and interact with anyone if it was for your sake, but he will be looking forward to being alone with you once again. Plainly put, he has no interest in other people.

He finds your excitement cute and might suggest that you spend a quiet evening in the graveyard, feeding the ravens and discussing horror movies and literature. It's peaceful, comforting and fitting. Oh, he just loves hearing your voice.

Truly, what could be more romantic than debating ghoulish matters among the dead and decayed? For Itachi it is a statement in itself, that your love prevails over everything. Perhaps even foreshadowing, if anyone ever dares to interfere.

Kisame

Kisame will be happy to comply with any proposal as long as you're by his side. That's really the only requirement for his successful Halloween. If you prefer larger events, he will dutifully keep suitors away and allow you to mingle with your friends. Otherwise a cozy evening indoors will suffice.

Now listen, when it comes to horror movies I’m sure the first thought is usually Jaws. But I had this picture in my head: watching Silent Hill with Kisame and getting him to dress up as Pyramid Head. If there’s a costume party happening, he’ll be right behind you in that bloodied up apron and great knife dragging along.

In fact, you could even go for a matching costume, such as Bubble Head Nurse. Kisame takes his role very seriously, so naturally once you’re alone he might just do what Pyramid Head does. You can tell he’s been looking forward to it once his imposing gloved hand is around your throat, grip tightening in anticipation.

Sasori

Sasori will be against any social event, so you better not pester him with any of those annoying Halloween parties. He does not care for it and he finds it an utter waste of time that could be spent with you instead. Why do you need the company of others?

If you must celebrate in some way, he’d much rather compromise on some quiet, cultural activity. Perhaps some museum exhibition, or a candlelight organ concert in a church. Even better, a horror movie at home so he doesn’t have to worry about perverts eyeing you.

I like to think he’d enjoy Tim Burton movies. They’re artsy and tasteful and a lot of the recurring themes might pique his interest. You’ll finish watching Edward Scissorhands and notice he’s been thoughtfully gazing at you for some time. Is anything wrong? Not really. He’d just been pondering that you won’t be allowed to grow old. He’ll make sure of it.

Deidara

Deidara is a thrill seeker and will absolutely share your enthusiasm for Halloween. Costume parties, haunted houses, amusement parks, you name it. He loves a good scare and might even compile an elaborate list of activities to make sure you have the best time. Truth be told, seeing you enjoying yourself might be the actual highlight.

He won’t mind, however, if you’d prefer a less intense evening. There’s plenty of things to do away from the crowd, such as pumpkin carving. He’ll do his best to impress you with his artistic skills, presenting highly elaborate carvings, often depicting your favorite things. He lives to entertain you.

If he thinks about it, this is a perfect opportunity to prove to you that really no one else compares. His love for you is unmatched. And as he likes to say, the holiday isn’t complete until it ends with a bang ;) (Had to make the joke)

Kakuzu

Ugh. Kakuzu just dreads the upcoming holidays. It’s all puerile, commercial quackery and he does his best to ignore the nonsense. Or he used to, at the very least. As much as it irritates him, your disappointed expression might be even more unbearable. He does have a soft spot for you, after all.

So fine, go ahead. Do your silly little Halloween shenanigans. As long as he doesn’t have to deal with other people. It’s really just the best for everyone involved. You wouldn’t want some poor soul complimenting your outfit to immediately meet their demise at the hands of your intimidating boyfriend. His patience might be thin, but when it comes to you it’s basically nonexistent.

Ideally it’ll be just you and him. Graveyards, horror movies, haunted houses, pumpkin patches, whatever your little heard desires. If he’s in a good mood, he might even be willing to don a matching costume.

Hidan

Given Hidan’s beliefs, he’s not very impressed by some pagan invention, although he does enjoy the activities that come with it. It’s his guilty pleasure. Especially because he gets to see you all dressed up.

That might just be the main reason, really. You. He loves seeing your excitement and would do anything to entertain it. He enjoys social events where he can show you off, but doing things alone as a couple is also perfectly fine. Okay, if he’s entirely honest, he would very much like to parade you around as his.

All the gore and the terror really gets him into the mood. By the end of the day he’ll be a starved man, and you can be sure that once he gets his hands on you it will be a bloody, scratching, biting mess. He’s probably the type to suggest you do it in a graveyard for the thrills.

Pein

Pein pretends not to care, but he is very much aware your favorite holiday is approaching. He’ll prepare weeks in advance to make sure he won’t have any paperwork or surprise missions. The day will be entirely dedicated to you.

He will either quietly follow you around to whatever plans you’ve made, like a loyal dog, or will conjure his own activities in case you didn’t expect too much productivity to be possible. Oh, the things he’ll do for your sake. Anything for a glimpse of that genuine smile.

You’re quite amused by the fact that Pein retains his serious expression no matter what jumpscares come your way. Impressed, you can’t help but ask him: “Is there even anything that frightens you?” And he won’t have to contemplate an answer for long. Naturally the thought of losing you. All the other artificial horrors pale in comparison. But you needn’t worry, he will never, ever allow it to happen.

Konan

Konan is only mildly excited about Halloween, but she will never say no to spending time with you. Additionally, it comes with the opportunity of doing arts and crafts as a way to relax. Forget buying decorations, she’ll be crafting the most exquisite garlands and ornaments you’ve ever laid eyes on.

She prefers to keep to herself. If you desire to attend a social gathering, she won’t downright refuse, but she’ll maintain her distance from the crowd and count the hours until you’re alone and together.

I feel like she would treat it as a spooky Valentine’s Day. She’ll show up with an elaborate gothic bouquet of flowers and a card quoting your favorite horror book or movie. “I have crossed oceans of time to find you”, as she lovingly once read in Bram Stoker’s Dracula. You’re her very own undying romance.

Tobi

You might think you’re excited for Halloween, but it quickly fades when compared to Tobi’s enthusiasm. Before you can even mention it to him, he will present you with a full itinerary of things to do together. He has been counting the days, constantly daydreaming of having all the fun in the world with you.

Similarly childish is his possessiveness. You find his little bouts of jealousy when you’re among other people terribly cute, as he pouts and tries to drag you away, reminding you dramatically that he’s your Halloween date. Only him.

Although you’re taken aback by his abrupt change of tone, when at some point during the night the silly threats turn into a deep, jarring voice demanding your undivided attention. Surprised? It’s a holiday of frights, after all. Perhaps he’ll show you how scary he can be if he wants to.

[letorip]

Lorraine Day Headcanons? :))

lorraine day headcanons

very fun to think about and heavily inspired by romeo and juliet, i know other people had also requested i do headcanons for lorraine but i was just gonna do the one, so if people want more lmk. you might be a bit crazy but whatever

sorry for the wait btw this was requested a looong time ago i believe

you and lorraine have been aware of each other since childhood, but you don’t ever interact or become something even close to friends because of a very simple reason: your parents absolutely despise each other, and have since you moved there

it doesn’t matter that both your family and the day family are farmers, or that the town is very small— it’s functionally split down the middle, in allegiances to each side that only worsen with time

you have your friends, lorraine has hers, and you both know to stay very far away from each other, even if you’ve never actually interacted much

though you don’t speak to one another, you have your minds made up about each other. lorraine day is condescendingly smart and ambitious, and all the time she spends silently under RJ’s arm is also spent judging you with her eyes. you, on the other hand, are overconfident and idiotic, and you spend any time you haven’t got your hand down a girl’s pants doing something stupid with your friends

of course, neither of you have actually spoken to the other long enough to actually see if you’re correct in your evaluation, but you also know speaking would be a minefield, what with cousins and friends who are just as passionate about the divide as your parents

you only actually meet properly for the first time at a high school party that’s getting busted by the local sheriff for getting too loud

immediately once the sirens go off, you’re running through the woods, chucking the half empty beer can over your shoulder and racing into the trees

you wind up hiding in one, well hidden up in the branches, easy to climb but not to see, and you wait in the dark as you watch police flashlights comb through the forest in the search of teens

you don’t know why you do it, but you can see the police closing in on lorraine, and though it can compromise your position, you reach down from the tree, whisper “up here,” and yank her into your hiding space

you’re definitely both extremely wary of each other in the spot. you keep glancing in the other’s direction like you think she’ll betray you or you’ll betray her but neither of you say anything for another hour until you’re sure they’re all gone

when she does get confident enough to speak, lorraine whispers “thank you…” softly in the night, and you do a double-take because you thought she would yell at you or something

you start talking, and go to help her down from the tree. you start walking back in the dark, towards the parking lot where a bunch of kids put their trucks, and the both of you are just chatting normally. about school, life, family stuff, anything

it definitely catches you both off balance because, well, neither of you seem unpleasant. you’re not stupid or hyper-sexual, and she’s not condescending or judgemental

the moment RJ finds you both, though, all hell breaks loose. he’s rushing over and tearing lorraine away from you, like you have the plague, shouting at you to “stay away from her!” and asking her if you did anything to her with your filthy (L/n) behaviour, and he has jackson and bobby-lynne there to back him up

it’s jarring to say the least, and you both stumble away from each other in a daze, to find your own friends watching lorraine suspiciously

both yours and lorraine’s parents are furious when they find out what happened (your best friend told yours and RJ told lorraine’s), and they warn you about each other, even after lorraine and you repeat over and over again that you were both nothing but pleasant and helpful

you see her again at school, but her friends are giving you death glares just as your friends are giving her death glares

you wind up talking under the bleachers, away from everyone, and you find you’re both just as pleasant as you were at the party

lorraine is intelligent and kind, along with incredibly introspective, and you’re funny and caring, and just a fun person to talk to. it’s refreshing and also a little strange, and you’re both trying to reconcile how the other isn’t some cruel monster your parents described them as

you sneak out back to the same woods as the party and talk to each other almost every night. she tells you about how she’s not entirely in love with RJ and hasn’t been for a long time, and you tell her about how you want to get out of your small Texas town and make something of your life. it’s like there’s a magnetism pulling you towards one another, and though it’s definitely star-crossed, considering your parents’ hostility, it also just feels right

lorraine is the one to kiss you. you say something silly about your car tire and how your idiot friend blew it out, and she’s just watching your lips as you talk until she can’t take it, and just reaches over and kisses you

you end up with your back to a tree and it definitely goes way past that lol

you hate having to hide your relationship from everyone else, so you decide, rather quickly, that you both want to run away together

you formulate a whole plan about how you guys will leave town suddenly, together, and leave a note for both your parents, saying you’re safe and in love

RJ tries to stop you after he finds it, saying you’ve done some sort of witchcraft on lorraine to brainwash her. he tries to attack you, but lorraine cracks him over the head with a baseball bat, and hops quickly into your car

you definitely drive off into the sunset, lol, surprising every person in town who sees you driving away together

after long enough, your parents reach out about wanting you to come home and that they want to make it all work between the families, as much as they hate each other

you live happily ever after? idk, maybe i’ll do a part 2 or make this a story

get ready cause i might be posting 2x tonight