#final split pose had me gagged | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sserpente · 4 years ago

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A/N: Heyho there my lovelies! I’m finally back! I missed posting so much! This Imagine is based on a TikTok I found and what can I say? It inspired me! After this, next up, will be the 20k Special! Enjoy everyone!

Words: 3205 Warnings: colour-blindness

“What if I never find him?” You murmured, glancing at the fruit bowl with a saddened expression. Yellow bananas, green grapes, red apples. To you, they were all different shades of grey. Dull and boring, like you had been sucked into a 30s black-and-white film. Only you didn’t get a cheesy romance out of it.

You had been born with what doctors today would call a ‘remarkably rare, complicated and fascinating condition’, for you had lost all of your colour vision at the age of twelve. You still remembered what the world had looked like before—bright, rich, intense—then someone flicked a switch overnight and all you could still see was grey, grey, grey and greyer. The colours would only ever come back to you once you found the love of your life—your soulmate.

A sigh escaped your lips. Only a few people still existed with this… defect and to make things worse, you had had no idea you were one of them. Not until your twelfth birthday. Society admired and pitied you all the same and yet, being a hopeless romantic, at the end of the day, you longed to finally fall in love.

Tony chuckled. “Heads up. You’re too young to worry about settling down anyway.” He responded cheerfully and pointed at you with a screwdriver in hand. He had been trying to fix the dishwasher for a solid twenty minutes now and for a man who had built himself a pretty much indestructible suit that could fly, it was utterly amusing he couldn’t figure out why it had stopped working.

You were not an Avenger, mind you. The sole reason you were, as of right now, in the Avengers’ kitchen munching on grey chocolate chips was that your best friend, who in turn was friends with Clint’s wife, had managed to flood your shared flat over the weekend. It was utterly inhabitable now and it would take quite a while for the landlord to get it all dried up again—and since insurance would not cover the cost for staying in a hotel, for the time being, Clint’s wife had suggested you’d stay with them—right until Tony Stark had shown up and you had graciously offered you’d come hang out at the Avengers Tower. Okay, technically you had begged him but either way and needless to say, you had jumped at the opportunity and somehow even hoped that you would learn some dirty superhero secrets—but so far, nothing. Nothing but what superheroes did when they were not out and about saving the world. Truth be told, seeing Thor in Hello Kitty pyjamas and witnessing Natasha Romanoff of all people scream watching an Asian horror film had its perks but you had somehow expected for them to be called in for an urgent mission where they required a skill only you had and then they would rely on your help and you would fight and become an Avenger and… your fanfiction had always sounded too good to be true.

“Are you still there? How is that fruit bowl so interesting?” Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you blinked.

“Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I was saying that…”

“Tony?” It was Bruce who interrupted you two, peeking his head into the kitchen almost timidly. You waved at him and he nodded, yet he failed to reciprocate your smile. Uh-Oh.

“Did something happen?”

The scientist nodded. “You might wanna put on your suit.”

“What happened?”

Bruce pursed his lips. “We’ve located Loki.”

Your eyes were still widened by the time you rushed after Tony even after he had told you explicitly (three times, to be exact) to stay put and hide until he had been put in custody.

The Loki. God of Mischief, Thor’s brother, Frost Giant, the I-tried-to-take-over-the-planet-guy. It was exciting, somehow, meeting a villain and oh, would it fuel you for your fan fiction. You almost bumped straight into Thor when they all came to a halt all of a sudden, his body a wall of flesh and muscle and making you grunt in pain—you might as well have hit a brick wall. With his hammer in hand, he ensured no one would approach his dangerous brother closely enough for him to try anything funky.

But the fact that Loki was even more handsome in person and the first villain you ever saw in person when he turned around the corner with a proud and arrogant expression on his face despite his shackles, was not what startled you to the core.

All of a sudden, there were colours. Everywhere.

Your lips parted, the impact of all the pigmentation around you making you dizzy. Loki’s armour was black, his cape was green, his eyes were blue, and his hair reminded you of the plumage of a raven. And your surroundings... The compound was silver now, the sceptre they had taken from him golden. Nauseous, you held on to Thor’s muscly arm for support. The God of Thunder frowned in concern. His eyes were blue too, his hair blonde, his cape red… too… many… colours. You suppressed a gag, overwhelmed by the sudden return of your colour vision.

“Are you okay?” Thor asked.

“G-guys… I can see colours.”

Every single head in the room, including Loki’s, turned in your direction so fast you flinched. Tony’s face was the first to fall in response.

“You are joking, right?”

Mutely, you shook your head. Your eyes locked with Loki’s, electricity rippling through you when they did. His blue irises froze you from the inside out, like each and every one of your limbs failed to resist the magnetic pull you felt towards him, and your cells longed for you to throw yourself into his arms—despite the fact he was handcuffed... and for a good reason too. Swallowing thickly, you forced yourself to look away.

Loki was your soulmate. That was impossible; and quite frankly, the god in question appeared to be thinking the exact same thing.

You chewed on your lower lip, anything to distract yourself from your predicament all the while everyone was still staring at you like you had grown two more heads.

“Take him to the cells, I’ll stay with her.” Clint’s hand on your shoulder did little to console you. Part of you still barely resisted the urge to start at Loki like a succubus, the other… the other was terrified and meant to hide in the archer’s embrace.

You could feel Loki’s blue gaze still resting on you when he led you away from the scene, staring daggers into your back and rendering you speechless until you were finally out of sight and Clint shook your shoulder gently.

“Are you sure it’s not one of the security guards that helped bring him in?”

“No… no, I saw them first. Loki was behind them. It’s… I don’t know how to explain it but somehow, Loki was in colour first, you know what I mean? First him and then, a split second later, everything else was colourful too.”

“And now?”

“Now what?”

“Do you still see in colour now?”

“Of course I do.” Clint sighed and buried his face in his hands.

“So what happens if you don’t… act on this soulmate thing?”

“Nothing. Nothing happens.” You said.

“So you don’t have to… stay close to Loki or anything?”

“No. Not that I know of. But Clint—“

“Good. Because he might find a way to use you against us. Stay away from him. Thor’ll take him back to Asgard soon enough. All we need to do first is find the Tesseract.”

Your lips were pursed when he turned to check on them and if Loki was wreaking havoc while they were trying to get him imprisoned.

Stay away from him? Of course… it was the most reasonable thing to do. Loki was dangerous, a criminal… but was that right? Now that you had found your soulmate in him?

You couldn’t get him out of your head that night. Screw the danger, you had to see him. And eventually, your curiosity and that inexplicable and strange pull you felt towards Loki got the better of you. With a deep breath, you threw your covers back and let your bare feet hit the cold floor before quietly tiptoeing out into the dark and empty hallway.

Your blood was rushing in your ears, making you hear things your paranoia and imagination cooked up to the point your heart was pounding in your chest so hard and fast you feared it might jump right out of your ribcage. No one could know, of course. Clint would positively kill you—he, along with Tony, somewhat considered himself responsible for you here. You couldn’t really blame them. If something happened to you, they’d never forgive themselves. You were an innocent civilian, after all.

And now you had been tossed into the greatest fanfiction yet. Shivering, for the cold slowly crept into your bare skin and through the tanktop and shorts you were wearing to sleep, you finally reached the corridor leading to the elevator. The prison cells, a rather new addition to Stark Tower, were located at the very bottom, the cellar, or… what you preferred to call it, a modern dungeon.

You found Loki with his back turned to you in his cell, looking pale through the glass pane. Your heart skipped a beat when he suddenly spoke up.

“I expected you would find a way to come and see me at some point. I’d dare say the Avengers have taken quite the precautions to keep you as far away from me as possible.” He mused. He lifted his chin, approaching the glass window.

It was quite ridiculous to assume that this tiny and meagre prison would keep the Trickster at bay after everything he had proven to be capable of. If only he wanted to, he could shatter that glass with but a flick of his wrist or break the heavy metal door posing as the only barrier between you.

If you were to just… unlock that door to touch him… it would be so easy. Blinking rapidly, you shook your head to chase the thought away.

“Who are you?” He asked and for just a brief moment, you believed to see genuine interest and curiosity sparkling in his stunning blue eyes.

“No one, really. You already know my name, I presume but that’s all there is. I’m not special—I mean, I don’t have superpowers. I’m just a regular human with a rare condition.”

“Oh, I see. Surely you had not hoped for a criminal of all people to be your soulmate then? A murderer? A monster?” His expression hardened.

Yes. But you were not going to tell him that. He was still the person to have made you see colours again, regardless of who he was and what he had done. There must have been a connection between you, you felt it after all! And you were certain that he felt it too.

“Thor will take me back to Asgard and the great King Odin,” he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “will surely have me executed. You will never see me again. So do not worry.”

“I don’t want that.” You finally chirped, barely daring to look him in the eye. His gaze was scrutinising and intimidating… almost as if he was able to see right into your soul with but one single glance.

Loki frowned.

“I bet you’re not happy about this, are you?” A desperate scoff escaped your lips. “I’m not sure I am…” You confessed and sat down on the chair in front of the window. It creaked a little under your weight, the unpleasant sound echoing through the empty hallway.

This man right in front of you was not be trusted and yet, the desire to pour your heart out to him was so strong you felt it like a sea of emotions attempting to drown you.

“You know ever since my twelfth birthday I wondered when I would finally meet my soulmate. Who they would be, what they would be like… and then so many years passed I was beginning to worry I might never see colours again. That I’d be alone and grey for the rest of my life.”

Loki licked his lips and glanced up at you, listening intently to every single word you said.

“Now I met you and they all tell me not to trust you. I mean… I know who you are, I know what you’ve done. I can’t say I’m happy about the fact my soulmate is…” You stopped yourself, breathing in sharply. “What was the universe thinking? You are a god and I’m just… me. We live light-years apart!”

Eventually, after a moment of surprisingly pleasant silence between you, Loki hummed. “The Norns do have interesting ways.” He said, locking his eyes with yours, almost as if he was pondering if… if what? If he could imagine being with you?

“So what should we do? Never speak of it again? Pretend we have never met? I can’t just… come to Asgard with you.” You held your breath when you realised what you were considering here. Loki must have thought the same. He smirked in response—not mockingly but bitterly. “Odin would never allow a mortal on Asgard. If I was to survive my trial, that is.”

“Don’t say that. I don’t care you’re a criminal right now, I just found my soulmate, and I don’t want to lose him again right away, regardless of what happens between us.”

With a start, his face fell. “Nothing will happen between us. That would be unnecessarily cruel, would it not? Your life in the nine realms is but a heartbeat compared to mine.”

“So… this is goodbye?”

Loki hesitated. You noticed by the way his lips slightly parted without a single sound escaping them just yet.

“Yes. This is goodbye.”

The fruit bowl had become your new best friend. In the morning, tired and rather absent, you sat at the kitchen table holding on to a steaming mug of coffee all the while studying the different colours of the fruit before you like a complicated Maths formula.

“Did you have a good chat last night?” Clint barked at you when he entered the room, skipping the ‘Good morning’.

“Huh?”

“With Loki?” He probed, raising his eyebrows in an I-already-know-what-you’ve-done manner.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You said, shaking your head and focusing your gaze on the fruit bowl again. Yellow bananas, green grapes, red apples. In colour.

You flinched when Tony spoke your name. “We saw the footage on our security cameras. You sneaked to his cell last night knowing fully well why you should stay away from him, especially with… with… you know.”

Fuck… the security cameras. You had completely forgotten about those! Of course the legendary Tony Stark would have had security cameras installed all over the damn place!

Busted, you shrugged your shoulders as nonchalantly as you could muster. “I just wanted to talk him. I had to talk to him. I know what you’re all thinking—that he’s evil and brutal and cruel and ruthless… and… and you’re probably right? I… I don’t even know but… he is still my soulmate. I can see colours again because of him for Fuck’s sake! I can’t just… ignore that.”

“I get it. We don’t know what it must feel like. But it’s for the best. We don’t want him to hurt you.”

“I am his soulmate, too. He wouldn’t dare hurt me. You know maybe he’s not the monster you all think he is.”

“Are you saying that because you know him so well after last night or because that is what you want to believe?”

Both. “I just… have a feeling.”

“Right.” Tony clapped his hands. Your name left his lips almost like a plea. “You have to trust us.”

Thor nodded. “Loki is dangerous. You should stay away from him at least until we know he is not still plotting the domination of your planet.”

“What do you mean ‘at least until’? You can stop staying away from him when he’s back on Asgard and out of your reach.” Tony snapped.

“We’re just trying to keep you safe.” Steve intervened. You sighed.

“You know what? I’m getting a headache and I’m still tired, so I’m gonna go back to bed.” That wasn’t even a lie—well, at least the fatigue bit wasn’t. Besides, the blackout curtains in the room Tony let you stay in were heaven-sent.

That was until a loud tumult in the Tower woke you up again, even though you were not sure anymore you had actually fallen asleep once your head hit the soft pillow.

“W—“ Your scream of protest was muffled by a cool palm covering your mouth. You struggled briefly, ripping your eyes wide open in a weak attempt to make out who was assaulting you in the comforting darkness of your room when you suddenly heard a soothing voice shushing you.

“It’s me…”

“L-Loki?” You choked out when he removed his hand again. “Did you… did you break out of your cell?”

“It would seem so. Come.”

“What?”

He tilted his head. “I don’t have much time.”

You stood, throwing the covers back when he already reached for your hand and held it tightly, pulling you with him into the hallway and towards one of the more hidden exists of Stark Tower, a flight of stairs illuminated only by emergency lights.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I am proving to you that I am more than just a criminal.”

“Oh… but… um… where are we going?”

Loki smirked. Your eyes widened when he pulled out the Tesseract seemingly out of nowhere, its blue light glowing brightly in the dark and throwing artistic shadows on his face.

“Hold on tight.”

“Loki…”

The God of Mischief pulled you close, making you gasp. Your chest hit his, his arm wrapping around your waist. With his face only inches from yours, you could feel his warm breath on your lips, and suddenly longed to kiss him.

“You are my soulmate. I am not leaving you behind.”

“What happened to ‘goodbye’?” You chirped.

Loki tilted his head almost threateningly. “You are mine. Don’t you think I wanted to leave this place without looking back?” His expression softened. “But I couldn’t. Because of you.” And you might just be the only woman to ever love me in this way, he added silently.

“B-but… Y-you said Odin will never allow me on Asgard and… and…”

“I never said we were going to Asgard, now was I?”

Your lips parted. Could you trust him? The stranger who had finally made you see colours again? If you told him No, would he let go of you? Would he let you run to Tony and Clint and Nat so they could protect you from him? Swallowing thickly, you met his intense blue gaze and nodded.

Loki smirked and winked. “You are in for an adventure.” And you knew he wasn’t lying. Next thing you knew, you were both hurtled through space and into a shared future.

A/N: ☕

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thesmokingguns · 3 years ago

Text

WAP Headcanon

Word Count:2726

WARNING: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18. THANK YOU.

Warning Part Two: There is a lot of sexual content behind the cut. Oral Sex, Sex, Degrading, Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Lots of swearing,

Summar Request:”i was wondering if you could write a motley crue headcannon of them with a fem s/o that got that WAP lol” I listened to WAP 700 times well writing this. I also made a playlist that you can find HERE

A/N: THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READS MY WRITING! I appreciate you all so much and just wanted to let you know that I appreciate you all sending me requests and talking to me about fandoms. You all make me so happy and I can’t even put into words how much I appreciate the reblogs, likes, and messages you all send me. Thank you!

Tag List: @ayablackwood @littlemisscare-all @thenobodies-inc @agroupiewhore

VINCE

“I could make you bust before I ever meet ya”

-You met Vince well working as a lifeguard the summer before college

-He literally was so obsessed with you that he went to the beach everyday for two weeks until you finally agreed to go out with him.

-Watching you climb up the lifeguard with your little red bath suit cut high so he can stare at your ass bouncing with each step

-He picks you up in his sports car and literally almost falls on his ass when you come out of the house with a sheer white dress and white lingerie on under it.

-Teasing him all night so he feels like he’s going to explode

-Sucking your finger well making eye contact with him

-Reaching out to push his blonde hair away from his face

-Touching him constantly, in innocent ways to build him up

-Complimenting his lips and running your fingers over them and pressing a thumb against his wet lower lip and then licking it and dragging your lower lip down

-The sexual tension is so high Vince thinks he’s going to cum as he drives you home

-Telling him you don’t sleep with men on the first date and not giving him a time for a second date

-”In the food chain, I'm the one that eat ya”

-He sends gifts all the time until you finally agree to go out with him again

-When he picks you up you’re wearing a fur jacket and a pair of high heels.

-”Take me to your house”

-Walking into his house and sliding out of the coat and letting it fall to the floor as you look over your naked shoulder.

-Vince has been with a ton of woman but you’re fucking demanding.

-You spread your legs pulling his blonde hair to your aching pussy pushing him down and watching him eat you like it’s a last meal

-He’s a clean eater, licking and sucking, using only his mouth to suck up your juices and suck your clit

- Keeping your heels on as you lay them over his shoulders laying back on bed

-Kissing your thighs after you cum and licking up your thighs tasting the wetness that leaked over them.

-Putting a condom on using your mouth

-Being on all fours, ass in the air, letting him go deep and hard as he fucks you

-The feeling of your wet pussy leaking over his balls making a slapping sound that is driving him crazy

-Loud and Vocal during sex, telling him how he’s fucking you so good. And Vince is eating it all up. He loves being praised and you’re stroking his ego like your pussy is stroking his cock.

-Switching positions so you can reverse cowgirl

-“If he fuck me and ask, "Whose is it?",When I ride the dick, I'ma spell my name”

-Vince loves watching the way your ass bounces and twirls on the top. He watches the way you pull up, lowering yourself on the tip of his cock and spinning down on his cock like you’re screwing it in tight.

-Skin slapping skin, wet slaps as you ride him, watching your pussy sliding out around his cock

-Telling him you’re going to cum again and Vince moving to fucking you with your legs bent over his shoulder so he can fuck you hard and deep

-Legs shaking, squeezing Vince as you cum around his cock

-Vince would be praising you as you came, so enamored with you and also feeling like he had reached some level of success

-His sweaty forehead pressed into your shoulder as he clings you you emptying inside

-You got what you wanted so you roll out of bed making yourself comfortable as you go take a shower, locking the door so you get your privacy. Completely throwing off this teddy bear of a man who loves cuddling and pillow talk after sex

-Coming out after your shower to a surprised Vince wondering why you were shutting him out after what he thought was great sex

-You tell Vince you’re calling a cab home and he’s surprised but you don’t sleep over guys' houses. But you know what you want, you got it and now it’s time to head home

-Vince is literally left speechless as he watches you put on your coat wondering if he’ll see you again or if he is going to have to keep stalking you at the beach

-“Will I see you again?”

-Shrugging as you get into a cab and giving him a coy smile before shutting the door and leaving.

-Calling him that night and letting him know you’re free tomorrow

MICK

-Everyone jokes that Mick is an old man but dude is seriously Daddy

-Like sugar daddy and gives you daddy dick

- “Pay my tuition just to kiss me”

- Always showering and lavishing you with attention when you meet up

-But whenever you meet up you know he is going to want too hook up in public

-He gets so horny knowing you can get caught and you do little things to make him go crazy

-Like wearing a little collar, that goes to the bondage set he bought, out to brunch with him

-Or when you go out you wear sheer shirts so he can see the outline of your brown nipples

-Sunday Brunch was your weekly meeting with Daddy Mars

-You’re outside, the sun shining on your skin. Sunglasses over your eyes when you feel lips on yours

-Mick is always just looking at you, admiring you.

-You’re wearing this crop top white peasant blouse that ties in the front and a denim skirt

-“I don't cook, I don't clean, But let me tell you how I got this ring”

-You met Mick at a bar one night with your friends. He bought drinks for you all night, and you made him laugh with your witty one liners. He had asked to see you again and that’s how Brunch started. He knew he was older than you but when he met you he had proposed helping you with school fees and you spending Sundays with him.

- Your foot slipped out of the sandal running along the inside of his thigh

-His eyes are dancing, loving how you know what he wants

-As you’re eating the sky is turning dark, warning of a summer rainstorm.

-the sky breaks open after Mick pays and you expect him to take you to the car to have a quickie or go to his house but he’s leading you over to the beach.

-As much as you like to tease him you hadn’t expected for it to rain so your thin shirt is completely translucent against your skin

-“Sit on the wall.”

-He sinks into the sand in front of you, tossing his jacket next to you, rolling up your wet denim skirt. Legs over his legs as he tasted you

-“Make it cream, make me scream,Out in public, make a scene”

-Gripling the concrete wall, he’s in front of you lapping at your clit as his fingers plunge into your wetness. Fingers working you with the same precision he plays a guitar. Curling into your core tapping the g-spot

-Head thrown back, rain water flowing down over you

-“FUCK DADDY!”

-People are driving by wondering what the hell you’re doing out in the rain because they can’t see Mick working better. Your legs are shaking as he holds you in place, fucking your wet pussy with his fingers, toying with your clit witb his tongue.

-“I’m going to cum”

-Mick moved a little, fingers going into overdrive as he spread you further watching as you squirt.

-Kissing your thighs as you try to breathe again after he just dragged out a super strong orgasm from you.

-Wrapping his jacket around you as you go to his car

-He pulls up to your dorms and slips some cash into the jacket pocket.

-“See you next week, baby.”

NIKKI

-“He bought a phone just for pictures, Of this wet-ass pussy (click, click, click)”

-Nikki just bought a new video camera and you’re going to be the star of his film.

-He has you posed, sitting on the floor with knees bent and legs spread naked so he could video you touching yourself

-You’re looking at the camera, not shy as your hand dips lower. You take your fingers in a V splitting your lips to reveal the juicy wetness inside your aching cunt

-Nikki audibly groans seeing the sticky sweetness in a glistening pattern across you

-It’s obvious he wants to touch you but he’s trying to record all of this.

-Holding your lips apart you take a free hand swiping a finger over your wetness and holding it out for Nikki to taste. His mouth is around your fingers in an eager moan as he licks them clean

-The way he licked your fingers just had you wanting more

-You love performing for Nikki and driving him crazy

-Rubbing your wet fingers over your nipples, soft moans that cause him to curse under his breath

-Using your fingers to rub your clit and tugging your nipples well looking at him

-Nikki takes out his cock, stroking it as he’s watching you.

-You open your mouth, tongue coming out as an invitation

-He’s setting down the camera at an angle, gripping your head as his cock slides into your mouth

-”I don't wanna spit, I wanna gulp,I wanna gag, I wanna choke, I want you to touch that lil' dangly thing, That swing in the back of my throat”

-He’s gripping your hair, compliments like “fuck baby” “so good” “take it all” and deep groans of appreciate coming from him. You’re drooling, tongue lapping to stroke every inch of him as he’s holding himself all the way in your throat. You feel your spit sliding out of your mouth, covering his balls as Wet gurgles of pleasure come from you around his cock

-Nikki tilts your chin up, “Eyes on me.” You look up, eyes watering and mascara leaking down your face from not being able to breath but you put on your big eyes good girl act

-“I’m going to paint your face in my cum, Princess.”

- Pulling out of your mouth and shooting his hot cum across your face, licking your lips to taste him as he grunts out as he cums.

-“Stay like that I want a picture”

-Nikki shuts off the video camera and starts taking Polaroids of you covered in his cum, smiling like the little whore you are

-He’s posing you, and giving you a towel to clean your face as he starts taking pictures of you on your hands and knees ass in the air

-“You’re still so wet for me.”

-You get on your back, Nikki covering you with his body, his lips hovering above yours. Your heart beating with anticipation and you whisper out a “Please” the smug smirk of satisfaction is illuminating his face.

-Nikki slides into you, filling you until you’re stretched almost uncomfortably around him

-Deep strokes making you see fucking stars as he holds your hips, letting you wrap your legs around him, and he fucks you

-”Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes”

-Your mouth is hanging open and you go to lick your bottom lip and he spits in your mouth, taking you off guard at the intimacy and

-You’re looking up, open mouthed and horny shocked that he did that.

-“Treating my princess like a whore. “

- You nod your head to let him know you liked it and you’re okay with it. The way your nipples hardened and you squeezed around him gave him the confirmation you were his little whore.

-Your wetness was coating not only you but Nikki’s thigh as it slipped from your body

-You opened your mouth to tell him you were going to cum but it was shut off by his lips slamming into yours. He knew our tell tale signs. Your arms holding onto him, soft mons coming out as you pushed into him, writhing in your orgasm

-”I’m going to fill you up, Princess.”

-Your head was nodding, his lips easing you with kisses he peppered on your skin, the way his pants met your ears before the groan and you knew he had finished.

-You lay on the floor for a moment well you both get your breath back. And then you head to the shower

-Nikki helps you clean up, his hands gentle on your shoulders.

-”You were so wet today, Princess. I guess you like being in front of the camera”

-Just hearing him says that just gets you started all over again and you want him again

Tommy

-”Big D stand for big demeanor”

-Can not keep his hands off of you

-You sit down and he’s either next to you on the couch of he’s behind you reaching ove of his freakishly long arms over to hold your shoulder

-This man loves you and is always ready to go

-At a show, he’s making eyes at you backstage before the show and you know exactly what he wants from you

-Standing next to a table talking to someone you feel his hands on your back squeezing a hip as he leans in to whisper to you, “Come with me”

-He pulls you into a dressing room and everyone knows exactly what you tw are about to do.

-Tommy is quick to pull up your skirt and he’s dropping to his knees in front of you, tugging your panties to the side and pulling a leg over his shoulder

-He loves eating pussy, this man loves sliding his tongue into your pussy, swirling his tongue around to get your taste on his tongue. His fingers pinch your clut rolling it in tiny circles as his tongue fucks you in little thrusts and than laps hungirly

-”Fucking love the taste of you, babe. You’re so sweet.”

-You feel like you’re going to collapse, your thighs are trembling and you want to cum with him inside you

-”Tommy, fuck me. Stop fooling around.”

-Do not need to tell this man twice. Very good listener.

-”I want you to park that big Mack truck, Right in this little garage”

-Tommy has you bent over the couch before you can even realize what is happening, his cock teasing your entrance, sliding the tip in and pulling out. Inch by inch he goes in and comes out until your legs are shaking, needing all of him inside of you.

-He knows there isn’t a lot of time so he’s slamming into you, his bare cock filling you after his teasing and groaning Y/N in appreciation.

-Your pussy squeezes against him, making the drummer curse in surprise

-He’s wrapping your hand around his hair pulling you so your back is arched and he can really slam into you

-Your ass is slapping against him with each thrust and you’re meeting him

-”Fuck babe, you’re so wet. Your thighs are like a fucking slip and slide”

-Tommy is more vocal during sex than you. He’s always praising your body, telling you how hot he thinks you are, telling you exactly what he likes, making little groans of pleasure when you clamp down on his cock, and just really making the whole thing feel good.

-”Stop squeezing me, I’m not going to be able to pull out if your pussy keeps sucking me in.” He warns you as you bounce back against his cock

-Tommy wants you to cum, you can tell he can’t hold on much longer

-His fingers reach around pressing your clit and after a few touches you let go against him, falling forward with a shudder

-Making you cum just gets this man even more fucking excited. He’s pushing deep into you, getting a sweat appear

-He’s pulling out, jerking his cock in fierce needy motions, shooting his load over your ass in white stringy patterns. Slapping your ass playfully

“Quick, jump out 'fore you let it get inside of me “

-After his boner brain goes away and he can think like a normal person again he’s helping you clean up.

-All about aftercare and making sure that you’re okay

“I said, certified freak, Seven days a week, Wet-ass pussy, make that pull out game weak”

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hawnks · 4 years ago

Text

Party Attire

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

r18 (mdni)

wordcount: 1,600

my drabble for the valentines day exchange uwu. for @some-kindofgnome hope i did your wants justice. smooch.

warnings: dom/sub undertones, oral s** (giving & receiving), edging, spit, size kink

.....................................................................

He’d warned you about that skirt.

In the hall outside the bathroom of the four star restaurant his parents invited you to. Crowding you against the posh wallpaper. Fingers digging into the skin just below your hemline. Admittedly, it was pushing the boundary between business chic and let me get railed on my five break and then meet you back here to talk about the budget requests. A cute, pink pleated number you’d thrifted a few months back. The weather had just turned right to wear it with some knee socks. It was fun and flirty, you thought. A little daring, sure, but not enough to draw any attention that was too salacious.

Katsuki had other opinions.

“We get home, I’m fucking you so hard you won’t be able to form a coherent thought for days.”

He made good on his word. And after pampering you a little bit (no thinking required with your boyfriend literally carrying you wherever you needed to go), Katsuki passed his final judgement on your dinner attire.

“No.”

You put on your best pout, waggling the (now very stained) skirt at him. He slapped your hands out of his face, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes followed the swish of the fabric, or how they fell to the marks he left on your thighs.

“Throw that shit out,” he groused.

You know he would never actually dare to tell you what you can and can’t wear. You also know he had a soft (and inexplicable) spot for that particular outfit. So you don’t feel bad about tucking it away for a rainy day -- after a very thorough washing, at least.

Now seems like the perfect occasion to break it out again.

Your boyfriend hasn’t been home in three days. The two of you keep up a constant back and forth over text, but you could tell the stress is beginning to wear on him, his responses getting pricklier and shorter the longer he’s away.

Finally, you get the message you’ve been waiting for. Home in ten.

Just enough time to get ready.

You hear Katsuki pull into the garage. He likes his cars fast and loud, which has never bothered you -- but the sound of the motor cutting out has your heart thundering in your chest. You’re seated on the plush couch in the den. You’re not sure if you should arrange yourself pleasingly or just plant yourself. You try several poses before you hear the front door open and shut, and Katsuki appears in the doorway, peering at you through the dimmed lighting as you struggle with one leg on the floor and one off.

It’s an uncomfortable position, and you can’t extract yourself without doing a bit of an awkward shimmy, which you suspect is endearing but not exactly seductive. Finally you end up with your legs hugged against your chest, your eyes trailing over to your boyfriend as he watches you, not moved from his spot by the entrance.

He’s in civilian clothing, sweats and a dark t-shirt, both perfectly fitted. It’s the first time he’d changed from his hero uniform in days, and the loungewear feels strange on his skin. Unnatural.

He leaves his coat on the floor in a heap, forgotten as he finally starts stalking toward you. His expression is bland, impassive -- but you catch a glimpse of interest in his eyes before your gaze darts, landing on his thighs. They’re massive, just like the rest of him. Sometimes you catch yourself watching him on slow days, as he leans over the stove, or grabs something from the top shelf from you, just marveling at the sheer size, the strength of him. It’s like he was designed with you in mind. Like he was made to make you feel small.

You can feel the divine heat of him as he stops before you, knuckles brushing your chin up until you meet his gaze. “Cute.”

You lean into his touch, and he cups your cheek, thumb petting the soft skin. “Missed you,” you say.

“Oh, yeah?” He stares at you for a second, the arches and slopes of your face. His thumb continues stoking, moving ever so slightly until he’s rubbing your bottom lip, dragging it down until he can see the dark color of the delicate inner skin. His forefinger creeps in, prodding against the soft point of your canine before finding your tongue. He presses down, a gentle pressure, but one that won’t let you ignore it. “Prove it.”

Your tongue presses back against his finger, licking around it, sucking. You do all of this without modesty, groaning when he presses back, gagging when his finger sinks deeper, edging toward your throat.

Katuski has big hands. You know that -- how could you ever forget that every part of him is a mountain -- but it’s moments like these that remind you just how big. How much bigger than you. How well he can fill you, in any way he chooses.

Your teeth are held open against his knuckle, and strings of drool begin to trail down your cheeks, land on your chest. Katsuki takes all of this, you, in with red eyes hooded, his other hand clenched at his side until he can’t hold himself back any longer.

With one arm he picks you up by the waist and repositions you, laying on your back beneath him as he straddles your midriff. He wipes the spit from his index finger off on your cheek, peering down at you as you let out another low whine.

“Impatient, huh?” he murmurs. At your eager nod, he grins, all teeth. “Guess I gotta show you who’s in charge here.”

One hand on the arm of the couch, the other cradling your chin, he crawls up your body until his hips are hovering over your face.

He lets go of you for just long enough to rip down his sweats, cock hard enough to tap his stomach, just from playing with your tongue, then his fingers are back on you, teasing open your mouth. He grits his teeth as you so willingly let him tap himself against your tongue, a dab of precum already budding at the tip.

You’re caged in by him from all directions, his thick thighs framing your temples, his hand stroking his cock in slow jerks just above your face. You should feel smothered—instead you feel intoxicated, drowned in his and his domination, and your lips continue to part further and further as he teases you, until you’re gaping and he’s grinning down at you.

“That’s it baby,” he hisses, nudging his cock in (finally in) to the warm cavern of your mouth.

He’s too big for you to take all of him like this, laying down, his legs splayed over you, but he continues to prod at the back of your tongue, his hips rolling in a firm, shallow rhythm. He edges himself in your mouth, pulling out and letting his cock smack gently against your cheek, smearing precum and your own spit across your skin.

“Yeah,” he says, voice worn thin, self control fraying. “So goddamn cute.”

Twice more pulls out just before cumming, smearing your face with your combined slick, groaning as his hips jerk against your jaw.

With a hiss he crawls off you, goes to his knees on the floor. In less than a second he’s manhandled you into the position he wants, hips hung off the couch, your whole body supported by his strong arms. With a wicked growl he flicks your skirt up, then he lowers his face.

Nothing Katsuki does could ever be considered sloppy. He’s perfect, sometimes maddeningly so. When he’s between your thighs he does things with a brutal finesse, one that you appreciate to the fullest extent. But what’s happening right now can only be described as messy.

He still knows how to treat you right, the exact pressure to make you buck, the spot inside to stroke with his index and middle finger while his other hand squeezes the meat of your thigh just this side of painful. But all of that is interspersed with split seconds of ravenous mindlessness. There are moments you don’t know what’s happening because it’s all so much, before he pulls you back in with a perfectly timed tweak of your clit, a particularly firm thrust.

And when he pulls back, just before you reach your peak, once, twice, three times, his praise is gravely and soft, his eyes have that mean glint that you hate love.

“Too soon, princess?” he says.

Or, “I told you to be fucking patient.”

Or, “Look at you, so fucking fucked. Just let me take care of things baby, I got you. Fuck that look on your face. So good for me—“

And when he finally (finally) let’s you cum on his tongue, he’s quick to follow after. You didn’t even know he’d been jerking off while he was eating you out, but you watch him rise up onto his feet, keeled over as he spends right on your pretty pink skirt.

He takes a moment to just look at it, you, all fucked out, a loopy smile on your face. He doesn’t think about what does it for him, how he likes how delicate you are compared to him, or how sometimes he just wants to fuck you up a little, how the urge lives closer to the surface when he’s stressed. Like today.

He runs an index finger through the cooling puddle caught in a pleat of your skirt, brings his wet finger up to paint your swollen bottom lip.

He says, “Was thinking about Italian for dinner tonight.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x y/n #im sorry i know we said like 500-800 words but i like talking abt messy stuff aklalkgjaerlkgj;aefgkllaadfg

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ladyfogg · 3 years ago

Text

Black Sea

Fic Summary: James has been tense for days, trying to wrangle the hotel’s undead residents while preparing for the upcoming historical landmark accreditation. Thankfully for your husband, you know exactly what he needs to make him relax. Bruises & Bitemarks Masterpost. The Evans Masterpost.

Fic Rating: 18+

Fic Song: Black Sea by Natasha Blume

Pairing: James Patrick March/Serial Killer Female Reader

Warnings: Seriously guys, 18+ for real. Explicit Smut, Pegging, Rimming, Dom/Sub, Oral Sex, Face-sitting, language, Praise kink, and probably more.

Married life suits you quite well.

After the decades of wanting James Patrick March, he’s finally in your grasp and your bed and you couldn’t be happier. Shortly after the wedding, the Countess asks to meet with you where she showers you with gifts and assures you there are no hard feelings. While you do have a few choice words for her over her treatment of James, it’s all water under the bridge. Your husband is thoroughly yours and his ex-wife no longer poses any sort of threat.

Your marital suite is now yours and James’s inner sanctum. No matter what is going on at the hotel, your space is untouchable. The moment the two of you enter the room, everything else gets left behind.

At least, that’s how it usually is.

Lately, James is having a difficult time letting go. The threat of the Cortez being torn down in the future was always minimal. However, as time progresses and wealthy philanthropists try to buy the building, the need to achieve historical status becomes a necessity. Of course, that means no more killings or disappearances. For someone like James, it’s a hard habit to break but he’s willing to make the change if it means keeping his home.

Most of his frustrations come out in the bedroom, which you thoroughly enjoy. The trunk of sex toys you have has gotten quite a bit of use during your marriage. Mostly on you. But when James arrives late one evening, fuming with anger, you have a feeling he’ll need a little something extra to take his mind off his troubles.

“Idiots, the lot of them,” he grumbles in a huff as he walks through the wall. “I do not know how they expect to keep themselves anchored to this mortal plane with no hotel. You would think the threat of absolute extinction would be enough to sate their blood lust.”

“Rough day, darling?” you ask, sliding off the bed where you had been lounging as you waited.

“Is it that obvious?” he sneers.

You pout and slink over to him, letting the sash of your silk black robe fall open so he can see your naked body, still covered in bruises and bite marks from the previous evening’s festivities. “Don’t snap at me because the others can’t follow the rules. I haven’t murdered anyone in years.”

He sighs heavily as you wrap your arms around his waist. “You’re right, my dear. Apologies.”

You lay a trail of hot kisses up his neck. “I know exactly what you need to take your mind off it.”

James grabs your upper arms and pushes you back, not too rough but rough enough for you to stop. “I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for our little games tonight. I’d be more than happy to watch you take care of yourself should you feel so inclined.”

“Darling, I think you are the one who needs to be taken care of.”

James quirks an eyebrow but does not argue. As he studies your gaze, he recognizes the same mischievous cunning he’s come to associate with pleasurable experiences. “Why do I have the sense that you have some tricks up your sleeves?”

“Because you know me so well.” You kiss him roughly, teeth biting down on his lower lip.

James grunts when you do, his arms snaking around your waist so he can pull you flush against his chest. “What are your plans with me, Mrs. March?”

“Get on the bed.”

Your tone is low and stern, leaving no room for argument. As you slip out of his grasp, James excitedly slips his suit jacket off, watching you cross the room. Against the far wall, your trunk of treasures sits on an antique chest of drawers, flanked by two red candles. The moment you light them, you hear the bed springs as James takes a seat.

“So what is it tonight, darling?” he asks in an almost bored tone. “Whips? Chains? Handcuffs? Gags?”

“No, no, none of that,” you say, casting a look over your shoulder. “Well, unless you’re a bad boy.”

James has slipped off his shoes and is in the process of unbuttoning his shirt sleeves. While he certainly looks interested, there’s also a sardonic smirk on his face, as if he’s doubting your ability to take his mind off his troubles.

Which is incredibly laughable since you have proven yourself to be a delightful distraction over the years.

“This is something new,” you say, opening the trunk. Inside, all manner of provocative and sinful toys sit posed and ready for use. A fair number of them have been used already. But tonight, you have a special item that you’ve been eyeing for some time. One you know James will love. “Take your clothes off.”

“You’re being so mysterious. You have me intrigued.”

“That’s the point.”

You glance over, watching as he meticulously removes his clothes until he’s down to nothing. The sight of his naked body always thrills you and you take time to admire it. James notices, raising his eyebrow.

“You look like you wish to devour me,” he says.

“I do. Now, close your eyes.”

James humors you and does as he’s told. Once you’re sure he’s not looking, you get yourself ready. You can see him tilting his head in your direction, listening to the sounds as if he’s trying to figure out what you’re doing. Ready, you secure your robe once more before slinking over to stand in front of him. You study his handsome face, reaching out to stroke his cheek before you gently tilt his chin up and lean down for a kiss.

James responds instantly, his hand coming up to seize the back of your head and grip it tight. In retaliation, you slip your hand around his throat and squeeze. He gasps in delight, eyes rolling back in his head when you forcibly break the kiss.

“We’re going to do a little role reversal tonight, my love,” you say, thumb pressing into his windpipe. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll make you come so hard you’ll blackout. If you’re bad, well…” You lick the shell of his ear, feeling him shudder. “That can be fun too.”

You ease up on his throat and James growls at you with a smirk. “Color me intrigued. What did you grab from our little treasure chest?”

You don’t answer his question. With a firm hand on his chest, you push him onto his back, leaving his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. A wink and a coy smile are all you offer before leaving a trail of precious kisses and bitemarks down his chest, towards his cock, which is already swelling in anticipation. James hums with approval, tucking one hand behind his head as a cushion while he watches your movements.

Your hand wraps around his cock, leisurely stroking his length while your lips continue to kiss his pale skin. You’ve lost track of the number of times you’ve marked and claimed him, leaving red irritated skin in your wake. That primal urge wants to come out, but you hold it at bay. Not now. Not yet.

Gently, you lavish the head of cock with attention as your hand drops from his shaft to stroke his thigh. You hear his breathing hitch, see the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows his saliva. His eyes close for a moment as he simply enjoys your attention, the tension and stress starting to melt away. You squeeze both thighs hard as you take him further into your mouth. Not all the way, which you know he wants. Just enough to tease him with what he likes.

When his eyes flutter back open, they’re hooded with desire. “I must say, I truly enjoy you at this angle,” he says, peering down the front of your robe which has started to slip open. “It’s a particularly erotic visual—what the fuck are you doing?”

Without warning, you seize the backs of his thighs and push his legs up so that his knees touch his chest, leaving him far more exposed than he’s ever been in your presence. You let his cock slide out of your mouth as you straighten your stance, the thin sash of your robe falling away so James can see the flesh-colored dildo hanging between your legs, firmly secured to your hips by a leather harness.

“Helping you relax, darling,” you say in a falsely innocent tone, your hand stroking his thigh. “You’ve had me in this position. It’s only fair that I have you.”

He opens his mouth to answer, but whatever retort he prepared never reaches your ears because a split second later, you kneel by the edge of the bed, running your tongue across his tight ring of muscles. What you do manage to hear is something between a gasp and a moan, and you can’t help but smile to yourself.

James loves to be dominant. Always has. And while most of the time that suits you just fine, there are others when you’ve taken the reins. During those particular times, you’ve noticed James’s excitement seems to grow. The idea of being overpowered by the woman he loves thrills him. You can tell by the look in his eyes, the delight and surprise at the turn of events, and the way his body molds to your whims.

Even now his hips arch upward, seeking more friction than what you’re currently providing. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock and giving it a rough squeeze.

James thrashes against the bed. “Your mouth is truly a godsend.”

“Obviously not if you’re still stringing words together.” You jerk him off roughly, wrapping your lips around his pucker and sucking.

James throws his head back with a loud gasp, fists twisting the sheets. Empowered by his response, can’t help but keep your eyes on his face, the way his eyebrows knit together and his teeth dig into his bottom lip…if either of you showed up on camera you’d be recording him. His movements push him further up on the bed and you eagerly follow, kneeling between his legs on the soft mattress.

As you continue to loosen him with your tongue, you take your hand off his cock so you can reach for the bottle of lube in the pocket of your robe.

“You’re being an exceptionally good boy, my dear husband,” you coo, laying a bite on the round cheek in front of you.

Taking your hand off him, you uncap the bottle and let the cool liquid drip onto his overheated skin. James hisses only to moan when you start to spread the lube around his waiting hole.

“Darling, please.”

You pause, glancing up at him. “Is that begging I hear? Already?”

His cheeks are flush red which has traveled down to his chest. A chest that’s moving rapidly with each heavy breath. It’s a gorgeous visual that you’ll never get out of your head.

He is shameless in his need, reaching down to fist his cock. “You wouldn’t hear begging if you’d get on with it.”

Quick as a flash, straddle his body so you can grab the bindings attached to the headboard. “I told you to be good,” you scold, seizing his wrists and binding them. “That means, listening to me and not touching yourself. Also, don’t be an ass. I’m doing you a favor you know.”

“Is that so?” Once his hands are secured, he bucks up against you, again seeking the friction you deny.

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you, James. If you’re going to be rude about it, I’d much rather gag you. Is that what you want? To be gagged? Because that’s not all it’ll be. I’ll gag you and then go fuck off for a few hours, leaving you here, naked, and begging for me. Is that what you want?”

To your delight, James purses his lips and doesn’t speak. With a grin, you wrap your hands around his throat and give it a loving squeeze as you bend down to steal a kiss. It’s quick, just enough for him to want more before you shimmy down his body, back to the space between his legs. Shoving his knees up again, you swirl the lube around the loosening muscles with your thumb, watching with delight at the way James closes his eyes and throws his head back.

The sounds coming from your husband are positively sinful and you can’t get enough. His voice even climbs several octaves when you push a lubed-up butt plug in past his prepped muscles. His body shifts and clamps down around the toy, keeping it inside him.

“W-What did you do?” he asks, fingers digging into the bindings around his wrists.

“Just used something to help get you ready for me,” you purr, stroking his thighs again. “In the meantime…”

You slide his cock back into your mouth, causing James to exhale a string of obscenities. God you love the way he fills your mouth, not to mention the way he moans every time you suck him off. To have such a powerful man like James at your mercy sends a rush of pride through you. This man, this titan of industry and murder, is reduced to a sweating, shaking mass of limbs just by your mouth and hands. It’s empowering and addicting.

You pull your mouth off him, lewdly sticking out your tongue to lick the underside of him. “Such a beautiful sight,” you say, hand still wrapped tightly around him. “I look forward to seeing you on all fours.”

“Please…”

“Keep begging, darling. It turns me on.”

You lose yourself in the taste of your husband, sucking on his cock with practiced skill and precision. His body constantly moves under you, thrashing and flexing, trying to set the pace even when you have his hips pinned to the bed by your upper body. He really can’t help trying to take control even when he’s completely at your mercy.

You can feel he’s close but it’s not time yet. There’s no way you’re going to let him come without fucking him first.

Letting him slip from your mouth, you pull back, heart slamming against your ribcage as you see tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

“I was so damn close!” he whines.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get there.”

Grabbing his hips, you flip him onto his stomach, forcing the bindings to twist. You maneuver him onto his knees, admiring the visual for a second: muscled and scarred back with taut muscles, perfectly round ass with a plug begging for you to replace with something bigger. You hook your finger through the ring and pull it out, listening to the shaky breath James exhales.

He’s so ready for you.

You let the robe slip from your frame as you kneel behind him.

“Gorgeous. Just gorgeous. You look so ready for me,” you tease, lubing up the dildo with one hand as you run the other hand down his backside.

“Yes. Yes, please.”

“Please what, James?”

He doesn’t respond right away. You can feel him clinging to that last bit of control, which definitely won’t do. Fisting his dark hair, you yank his head back.

“Please what, James?” you repeat. “If I have to ask again, I’ll just leave you here. Hard and open, waiting…”

“Please have your wicked way with me.”

With a smirk, you push into him. Between the toy and your prep, it’s almost a smooth thrust. Keyword: almost. Instinctively, his body tenses, forcing him to clamp down around the head of your toy.

You drape yourself along his back, licking and sucking on his shoulder. “Relax, baby boy. Just relax. I’ve got you.”

You feel his shaking body exhale and the toy slides further in, more and more until you bottom out, your thighs snuggly tucked against his.

“There,” you say, stroking his hip. “That’s a good boy.”

You pull out and thrust back in. James throws his head back and lets out the most guttural moan you’ve ever heard. You do it again, thrilled by his visceral reaction. You take him roughly, thrusting in and out at a steady pace, loving the way his body moves under yours. You get why he loves to fuck you this way.

Holding this power over someone is addicting and you know you and your husband will be playing this little game for centuries to come.

Your mouth keeps busy, sucking and biting at James’s throat, marking the pale flesh. His noises are to die for. Moans and grunts, occasionally broken by swears and your name.

“Fuck, darling. Fucking hell, yes!”

“Do you like it, husband?” you coo in his ear. “Do you like your wife taking you from behind?”

“Yes!”

“Such a good boy taking my cock like this,” you groan, reveling in the sounds of his pleas and your hips slapping against his. “Such a good boy, letting me take care of you.”

“My dear, please. Please!”

“Please what?”

You see his hands flex in his bindings as he clenches them. “I’m close, dear. I need to come.”

“If you insist.”

When you pull out of him, he all but howls in disappointment. But he doesn’t need to worry. As quick as you did before, you flip him onto his back, shoving his legs up before pushing back into him. Now you can see the expression on his face, watch his mouth fall open as his head falls back against the pillows.

His rock-hard cock bounces against his stomach, leaving trails of precum in its path. When you wrap your hand around his length, it’s hot to the touch.

All you need to do is stroke him once and then he’s coming with a shout, jets of white painting his flexing stomach as he chants your name.

Your own neglected arousal is nearly painful at this point. Ignoring it for much longer is not possible. Without removing the toy from your shuddering husband, you release yourself from the harness and crawl up his body.

He opens his eyes just in time for you to sit on his face, forcing him to taste you. If his moan is any indication, he doesn’t mind in the slightest. Now you’re groaning, clutching fistfuls of his hair as you grind yourself along with his tongue.

“Yes, James, yes. Such a good boy.”

Your praise is punctuated with groans, his eyes closed as he sucks on your swollen folds. You’re too wound up yourself to hold back or prologue your pleasure. When you come, your body locks in place, nails digging into his scalp until the last waves of pleasure recede and you collapse next to him.

Both of you pant harshly. James tugs on his bindings. “Untie me,” he orders.

You do as he says, only to find yourself pinned beneath him, his mouth attacking yours in a biting onslaught of kisses. It makes you smile.

“Relaxed now, darling?” you tease when he finally draws back.

James yanks the toy out of himself with a wince, tossing it to the side. “You certainly know how to help a man take his mind off his troubles.”

“I live to serve, darling,” you say with a smirk. “As do you apparently. You did a marvelous job.”

James grunts before kissing you again, his seed now spread across your chest as he holds you flush against him.

“As did you, my love. Tell me, what other toys have you been dying to try?” he asks.

All you do is offer him a coy smirk. “A lady never reveals her secrets. All in good time, dear husband. All in good time.”

---

Fic Taglist:

@lejardinfleur @kitwalker64 @tatestripedsweater @milly-louise @kitwalker02 @xmaximoffic

#james march #james patrick march #james march x reader #james march x you #evan peters #bruises & bitemarks

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uniquevocashark · 3 years ago

Text

A Good Servant Part 4

Content warnings:

Graphic depictions of gore, blood, smoking, lady dimitrescu washes the readers mouth out with soap and a horse brush so watch out for that, mentions of taxidermy, mentions of meat preparation (skinning), mentions of murder, aftermath of murder

“How dare I?” Lady Dimitrescu said, then her face split open in a wide smile and she threw her head back and laughed. It was light and hysterical, and she covered her mouth softly with one hand. Her bedroom was lit only with candlelight, her pet cowering on the other side of the room by her bed.

You glared at her and she met your eyes gleefully, striding over and grabbing your face in one hand. She squeezed your jaw and forced your mouth open, then rubbed your teeth through your cheeks. You grabbed her wrist and dug your nails in, but she didn’t so much as flinch, smiling at you with all the grace of a lion with an antelope in its mouth.

“Pet,” She called, and you glared, “Go fetch some soap and water, separate bucket for each.”

You glimpsed at her, at her smirk and her pose, the way it accentuated her perfect posture and the perfect way her hair fell and curled. The sleek stitch work of her hat, her cream dress, the strokes of her makeup brush that painted her white. Perfect, down to the last cell.

Lady Dimitrescu walked with you struggling against her, dragging your feet over the well-polished floor and well-appointed carpet to her bed. She sat down and pulled you forward with a quick yank, forcing your stomach against her knee. She reached over you to her bedside table, where she kept a specially designed toothbrush for her horse, Matthias.

“This is such a lovely little knick-knack,” She said pleasantly, twisting the dark wooden brush to catch the light, “It’s a shame I barely use it, don’t you agree?”

You grabbed her wrist in both hands and clawed and, though she swayed slightly, she manhandled you right back where she wanted you with ease. You grunted and she tapped your lips with the brush.

“Now, now, Wesker, no need to act an animal,” Her pet came back with a bucket of soap and a bucket of water, “Excellent choice, pet.”

Last year Lady Dimitrescu had taken to the scent of vanilla, and the smell was thick and syrupy the moment it was set down near you. She used a soft soap that gouged, somewhere between sloid and liquid, and pungent enough to drown your nose already. She scooped some onto her fingers, smiling, then looked at you with a grin crawling up her cheeks. “Try not to swallow.”

You took a quick breath, and she shoved her fingers into your mouth. The soap taste was unbearable, and she took obvious pleasure while she rubbed the soap onto your tongue. The taste filled your mouth, your nose, and no matter how hard you bit her hand she never wavered. She hummed a pleasant tune, tapping her feet beneath you while you struggled against her. When Lady Dimitrescu pulled away to grab the brush, you pulled in a breath and gagged.

She looked down at you, trapped against her and gasping between your violent gags, and smiled.

She tapped your cheek with the brush, and you flinched away from it.

“What a shame,” Lady Dimitrescu mused and tilted your chin up to watch the soap foam drip down your chin. She smiled slowly, her eyes widened softly, and she pushed the brush into your mouth. She scrubbed your teeth harshly, then your gums, your tongue and as far down your throat as she could push you before you were clawing desperately at her hand. She scrapped the brush against the inside of your mouth until you bled, until you had clawed holes in the skirt of her dress, until tears rolled down your face flatly and all you could smell, or taste was iron and rosemary.

By the time she had deemed your mouth clean, suds and spit covered your chin and her skirt. She released your jaw and let you sink to the floor and pushed the bucket of water over to you with her foot.

“All this, because you can’t listen,” She mused, taking her quellazaire from her pet. She turned to the tongueless woman and said, “Inside the bathroom, pet.”

You spat out a mouthful of blood and bristles, your hand shaking, running your tongue over your teeth and finding a few loose. Lady Dimitrescu was never gentle with her punishments to her staff, only her daughters were ever treated gently. She had told you not to cuss once before, in passing.

You wiped the spit off your chin and threw it into the bucket, your hands shaking, and your breath laboured. Rosemary tinted your every breath in when you heard the bathroom door shut.

“I would do that to Mother Miranda,” She said wistfully, relighting her cigarette, “if I could get away with it.”

“She’d kill you,” You choked out, coughing up a chunk of soap, “Speaking to her might help.”

“Mother Miranda doesn’t listen to me,” Lady Dimitrescu took a drag from her cigarette, “not anymore, at least.” She smiled at you, small and bitter, then turned her attention to the bathroom door and frowned.

You stared at her, and the bloody bristles covering your palm. “I know she doesn’t.”

“She speaks to you, a human—”

“Not a human.”

“A mortal,” She corrected absently, moving your chin towards her with the tip of her shoe, “is told over me. Does that seem… fair to you?”

You didn’t answer and she tilted her head as she took another drag from her quellazaire. Then she laughed, soft hiccup like chuckles more bitter than the taste in your mouth, smoke leaking from her ruby red lips.

“I’m obsolete.” She said, turning her eyes to the ceiling and then she laughed again.

“You are not,” You said, the words spilling blood from your mouth onto her shoe, “You have some uses.”

“Oh, thank you for the assessment,” Alcina crooned sarcastically, “It is ever so helpful.”

“I’m not good at this. And you scrubbed my mouth out with a horse brush.”

She pushed the tip of her shoe into your neck, just above the skin that hid your oesophagus. Her golden eyes glowed, “And you were just commenting on my daring, were you not?”

You glowered, then lowered your eyes to your murky reflection. “Yes, Madame.”

“By all means,” Lady Dimitrescu said, flicking ash onto the floor, “Speak.”

You picked up the still glowing end of her cigarette with a handkerchief and spat a glob of blood to smother it with. It was too late, predictably. The carpet was already ruined, “You are a hypocrite.”

“Hm? Did I not scrub hard enough?”

You pulled another bristle out from between your teeth.

“You never told me you had children.”

You dabbed the inside of your cheek with another handkerchief, pulling out a loose tooth as you did so. “I only had one.”

“You lied to me.”

You looked at her and shrugged, “I lie about a lot more than that.”

“Yes,” Her fingers tightened around her quellazaire, “I am aware of that.”

You looked away, into the bucket, then at the door. “It isn’t any of your business.”

"The lives of all my staff are my business."

“But I am not just yours.”

She leaned back a little, cocking her head to the side and smiling, “Yet.”

You glimpsed at her, at her smirk and her pose, the way it accentuated her perfect posture and the perfect way her hair fell and curled. The sleek stitchwork of her hat, her cream dress, the strokes of her makeup brush that painted her white. Perfect, down to the last cell.

“I know plenty about you,” She said, “A Frenchmen, a biologist, a test subject.”

“Easy things to learn from a file.”

“You hate the smell of brandy,” She continued in a dreamy sort of tone, “and acorns, whatever those are. You hate kidney beans and men who smoke. But you like cooking and you like me.”

You wobbled to your feet and took a few shaky steps away from her. She watched you and the blood that dripped down your chin with razor focus.

“I will likely be leaving.” You said, though it was much quieter than you would have preferred.

Lady Dimitrescu saw through your basic attempt and hummed, the sound reverberating through your bones. Then, mockingly, “Oh, are you afraid of dying?”

You looked at the draping on her bed, “You aren’t?”

“I am immortal,” She said, taking a drag from her cigarette then cocked her head, “Get out.”

…

You didn’t sleep that night.

So, after a few hours of soothing the pain in your mouth, you redressed and went into the kitchen. Alex was there, skinning whatever the Lady had deemed to her palate, so you moved to help with the vegetables. You didn’t speak for three hours, not until the prep work was done and the silverware was shining bright enough to blind.

You nodded as the other kitchen staff entered, “Ensure everything is perfect.”

And then you went to start your day.

You put your room to rights, cleaned the table, fixed the bedding and refolded any loose clothing. Then you moved into the dorm rooms for the other maids and roused them up fifteen minutes before six. You cleaned away the last remains of the five that had been eaten last night and dictated tasks down to the rest. Once the dorms had been cleaned to standard, and new bedding was placed on the once used beds, you moved to meet Mihaela at twenty past six and handed off the schedule for Lady Dimitrescu’s morning before Vanessa arrived.

Afterwards you sought out the three Dimitrescu daughters, who slept until half past seven before they deigned to rise. They kept their rooms warm as melted butter, with enough blankets to burn the scales off a rattlesnake, and you took a breath before entering. They were, as ever, aggressive but for Daniela who practically jumped into your arms. She smiled her wide smile and, after a little prompting, began talking excitedly about the necklaces she had made using your teeth.

You brushed their hair, first Daniela, then a yawning Bela and finally Cassandra who flopped half off the bed and snored while you fixed her hair. Once they were dressed, and their necklaces comfortably on their necks, you opened the doors and had breakfast brought in. The ate the dog meat with friendly chatter and warm tea. They weren’t as picky as their mother, nor as reliant on human flesh, and enjoyed tasting different meats when the opportunity presented itself.

But always you knew that they would bounce back onto human flesh. Such was their nature.

You took extra time to clean up their room as quickly and quietly as possible while they talked amongst themselves. Cassandra had disappeared immediately after breakfast, as she always did before you were finished cleaning and never returning until well after dinner. She was, as the other maids had told you, doing something in the opera hall and had barred all entrance into it while she was working.

Lady Dimitrescu always came to say good morning to her children, just after she had finished balancing her accounts and fielding any emergency phone calls. They calmed her considerably, and they talked while you cleaned around them in a flurry of movement. You did catch her eye one time, just as she was leaving, and she smiled at you with more mania than you had seen from her in a while.

At twenty-three past eleven, you went to clean the lower bedroom that Lady Dimitrescu worked in and found her pet hanging on the hooks with her chest broken open. Her ribs had been removed and you could clearly see her lungs inflating and deflating while she noisily took in breath. She would not live another minute, not with the glaze in her eyes as she reacted to your footsteps, especially not with the flies that buzzed out of your skirts and onto her neck. You watched her breath once and then turned your attention to the mess that was Lady Dimitrescu’s desk.

She had small roses made of glass, stuffed rodents that Daniela had made for her, flowers that Cassandra picked for her each morning from her private garden and small statues made of clay that Bela had made for her. And all of it was covered in blood which you would need to scrub and bleach from it all.

“At least you don’t have to deal with this.” You said to the hanging corpse and got to work.

When Vanessa did finally arrive, at one in the afternoon, you had been so thoroughly distracted by your work that you had run your fingers until they were bright red and throbbing. Lady Dimitrescu had watched you from her couch, tilting her head this way and that with feline laziness to track your every move.

Vanessa took tea with Lady Dimitrescu when she arrived, drinking the blood infused blend with a brave face and healthy smile. She always did have a stunning smile, matching to the Lady’s that you now worked under. The business they discussed, and discuss they did, loudly and bordering on obnoxious, was you. And Lady Dimitrescu twisted it into your past with almost reverent ease.

She was always too good at getting information from people.

“Cryogenically frozen?” Lady Dimitrescu asked, her smile stretching a tad too wide, “My, my. I had no idea.”

Vanessa smiled, and you could see the ticking of her brain as she tried to worm her way out of the current conversation, “Yes, it’s a fascinating process.”

“That sounds like quite the ordeal.” Lady Dimitrescu leaned forward, resting her head on her chin and you dug your nails into the platter you were holding.

“It was,” Vanessa said, “There are so many components that can go wrong.”

“Do tell.”

And so, it went on and on and on for two hours. By three in the afternoon, Lady Dimitrescu had weaseled herself into your personal life with as much finesse and subtlety as a charging rhinoceros, not that either you or Vanessa could divert her interest away from the topic. So when she left for work, brushing her hand under your chin as she went.

You watched her go for a moment too long, before Vanessa threw her arm around your shoulders and kissed your cheek.

“That is quite enough.” You said and shook her off.

Vanessa laughed and you went over to the dirty table and began stacking the dishes away. “Oh, come now, I haven’t seen you in twenty years!”

“That was on purpose.”

She sat back down while you cleaned, tossing her dark hair so that it caught the light brilliantly. She didn’t wear perfume, which made the room seem empty now that Lady Dimitrescu had left, and she seemed cold compared to the Lady. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I hope you’re quite finished.”

“You talk like that giant bioweapon.”

“She is,” You said severely, picking up the full tray and wiping down the table, “by definition, not a bioweapon.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Be more precise with your language.”

“Now you’re nit-picking.”

“Please, stop talking.” She smiled gently and you relented. “Fine. I missed you.”

Vanessa threw her arm around your shoulders again and gave you another kiss on the cheek. Daniela appeared before you and placed her sickle against Vanessa’s temple.

She scrunched her nose and her tone was soft and confused, “Why are you touching our things?”

#lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #A Good Servant #my writing #tw gore #FUCKING DID IT #FHKEHKUBAKUCASHCKIASUHNCHJANC

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cassanovancats · 3 years ago

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felicitate. four.

three < current > five

March 2017

White Day is only a few days away when you begin to notice Rika’s form is absent from your training sessions lately. There shouldn’t be any reason for this, at least not one you’re aware of. Your class celebrated Yuta’s birthday just two days ago, and both the curse and cursed seemed fine, great even. You decide it’s best to bring this up casually - Yuta was still so skittish and Rika would be able to hear whatever you said anyways. So while you lead Yuta through a yoga session, you ask, “How’s Rika?”

He flusters and falls from his side-plank variation pose. The band he was using as an aid tangles around his calf. You debate and decide to leave him. If you touched him now, he might spontaneously combust. That thought makes you giggle a little. You move to change to a position that meant you weren’t looking at him. Hopefully, that’s less pressure.

Yuta speaks up when you’re fully downward dog, leading you to believe your plan worked. “She’s fine, yeah, fine. Just uh - tired?” You nod but inwardly roll your eyes. You shift your hips in to move to upward facing dog and make eye contact again.

“Just checking. I miss her hanging out, you know?” It’s obvious Yuta just lied, curses don’t get tired, but it’s better to not call him out this time. You just have to hope it wasn’t anything you did. “I know you fell but at this point you’re just slacking. Get back on your mat,” you say, changing the topic to something safe.

You’re back in downward facing dog when the door slides open. A familiar voice drawls, “Why are you still working out, dummy? Forgot our plans?” You scramble to your feet.

“Gumi!” You rush to hug him despite his obvious distaste. “What time is it? Do I still have time to shower or will we be late?”

Your little brother snorts and pushes you away, “Please do, you smell. You have,” he checks his watch, “fifteen minutes.”

“Gumi! That’s not enough time!” You yell, already sprinting towards the showers at the back of the gym. Yuta pouts at how quickly you seemed to forget his presence. That face doesn’t escape Megumi.

“So, you like my idiot sister?”

“W-what! No, no no no, it’s not like that! She just helps t-train me and -!” Yuta knows he’s rambling but he can’t seem to stop talking.

“Whatever,” Megumi has better things to worry about than repressed hormones. He's known that Yuta had a crush on you since the first time he came to campus to train with you after Yuta arrived. Your classmate couldn’t stop staring and seemed disheartened by the fact that you called Megumi by a shortened version of his given name. He had pouted until Satoru showed up and made a spectacle of ‘Team Gojo’ being all together again. Like you three didn’t, at minimum, have a weekly dinner together.

“If you ever want to acknowledge them, you’ll have to get approved by Satoru.” Yuta feels like he also needs the approval of this boy, but he leaves that unsaid. Just nods dumbly. Probably a good thing he didn’t respond, because you barrel through the doors you disappeared from.

When you rush past him, Yuta gets a strong whiff of the floral scent he’s come to associate with you. Megumi laughs under his breath at the blissed out look. Your hair drips water onto your tee shirt and it’s clear you rushed. “Really, really sorry to dip, Yuta. Run through those stretches we did last week to cool down!” Your fingers distractedly pull your wet hair into a braid as you instruct him. “Oh! Tell Maki I won’t be at afternoon training, Satoru already knows and gave permission. Megumi, grab my duffel?” Already carrying it, he rolls his eyes. “I should be back tomorrow morning, but don’t count on it.”

“Wait, but why -?”

“Gotta dash. Bye, Yuta!” You run ahead of your brother, headed to your room to grab Tsumiki’s gifts. Megumi gives a nod and follows after you. Alone and without anyone around to judge, Yuta groans and buries his face into his yoga mat. God, why can’t he just be normal.

When he looks back up, Rika has taken your spot on your mat. You left in such a hurry, you didn’t even clean up. He’ll have to drop it off in your room. “Ya’ know, it’s not that I’m mad about you liking her,” she begins. “It’s just…. I know we can’t be together so I do want you to be happy. I just feel jealous. Especially since you got her that super fancy chocolate for White Day,” Rika finishes with a pout.

Yuta doesn’t really know how to reassure her. So he does what he promised when he was ten, and is just honest. “I’m here to learn how to let you go, Rika. Neither of us know how to do that yet. I can’t be in any kind of relationship until I learn. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you.”

Rika hums and picks at the corner of your mat. “Well. I think it’s more than just us two you’re worried about.”

“What?”

“Inumaki seems pretty interested in the both of you too. You may not see it, but all three of you are pretty smitten. It’s actually kind of gross.”

“That’s - he - no!” Rika just laughs and dissolves her form. Yuta, still flustered, continues to mutter as he collects the things you left and wipes down any used equipment. When he finally leaves, it’s just his luck he runs (literally) into Inumaki who looks unfairly handsome in a fitted tee and sweatpants. Even his markings are uncovered, which makes Yuta groan, tuck tail, and run away. Yuta can hear Rika laughing in his mind.

“Tuna mayo?” Inumaki tilts his head to the side but shrugs off the odd behavior.

July 2017

JJH Thots the good gojo: guysss help which tie do i get :( fushiguro: isn’t satoru with you the good gojo: yea but u know he’s shit at gifts maki: Both of those are ugly, (y/n). Do you hate the man? osamu: the cheetah print trophy husband: I like that one too! the good gojo: this is why you two are my favorites

From a few cities over, Yuta flushes at your words. Inumaki notices and kicks his foot. He’s laughing when he says, “Nori,” but Yuta can spot a faint pink over the hem of his collar too.

You turn around in the middle of the street when you hear a loud, “(y/n)-chan!” Satoru is speed-walking towards you, waving an arm that is covered in different shopping bags. His long legs have him beside you in a split second, even without the use of cursed energy. “Are you done yet? Nanami won’t even thank you properly you know. Why don’t you just get gifts for your precious Nii-chan?” He pouts and takes the two bags you’re carrying.

“One, it’s not your birthday. Two, you could buy anything you want already. Three, who's to say I didn’t already get you one?” You pull a box of macaroons out from one of the bags he took. Satoru moves to snatch it immediately but you put it behind your back. Of course, if he wanted, he’d just grab it, but your Nii-chan would never deny playing a game with you. “You can’t get it until we’re back on campus! I’m already tired and this is my bribe to go home early.”

“But (y/n)-chan,” he whines.

“Nu-uh. I promised a movie night with Toge and Yuta and I don’t wanna be late.” You realize too late you revealed too much, because your brother suddenly looks like a very successful cat.

“Why didn’t you just say so? I would never make my little sister late for her first date.”

You blush furiously, “Who says it’s my first?”

“It better be your first.”

“It’s not even a date,” you roll your eyes. “Neither like me like that, and if it was a date, wouldn’t one be a third-wheel?”

“Tricycles are pretty fun.” Your brother says casually. You roll your eyes again and add a gag for good measure. “Seriously, (y/n). You should know you have my full support to love anyone and everyone you want. Not that you need it, though. You’re a Gojo. We do as we please anyways.”

You tear up at his sincerity and throw your arms around your brother, or at least the best you can with his bags in the way. The two of you are frequently physically and verbally affectionate but not often in such a serious manner. You know there’s a deep love between you; for a long time, the two of you only had each other. Eventually, your family expanded to include Megumi and Tsumiki, but neither ever took the Gojo name. You and Satoru had a special bond. “Thank you,” you stutter around tears. You hope he understands it’s not just a thank you for the reassurance but a thank you for giving you such a life.

“Come on, no crying. You can’t go on your date with puffy eyes, you’ll scare both of them away.” He pats your head softly and just laughs when you punch him in the gut.

#felicitate #cass.writes #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #inumaki x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #inumaki x reader x yuta #female!reader #jjk spoilers #jjk volume 0 spoilers #in ao3 this is two chapters but theyre real short so #combined with my author powers

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luxekook · 5 years ago

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stay in your lane | jjk

⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader ⇥ genre: e2l / college au / smut / fluff / crack ⇥ summary: in which the reader is the captain of the women’s swim team and jungkook is the “golden freshman” of the men’s swim team... OR in which jungkook is overtly whipped for the reader and acts out in any way possible to gain her love and attention - no matter the consequence. ⇥ word count: 5.8k ⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, Vine references, dirty talk, sub!jk, dom!reader, jungkook being the biggest brat, swimming lingo, college athlete party, drinking, body shots, noona kink™, smut (edging/orgasm denial, face sitting, oral [m + f receiving], unprotected sex [wrap it, plz], spitting, cum eating [i am sorry skksks])

In all your twenty-two years of living, you never encountered anyone as openly cocky as Jeon Jungkook. You stared in disbelief as the boy posed and preened from his lane of the pool, throwing his fist in the air and flexing his muscles.

“He is such a hoe for attention,” Your teammate Lina said, shaking her head next to you and reluctantly clapping along with the crowd gathered for the Regional Swimming and Diving Championships.

You nodded in agreement, plastering a fake smile on your face as you forced your hands to clap. As the captain of your college’s women’s swim team, you had to keep up appearances after all. You cheered for everyone - regardless of how infuriating they might be.

When you were appointed as captain this past fall, you were fucking thrilled.

Leadership came naturally to you, and it always felt good when it was recognized by others. For you, being a leader meant being a bad bitch - powerful, fearless, intimidated by no one.

And a bad bitch you were. You liked to quietly dominate in pretty much all facets of your life. You aced your studies, you broke records, you fucked hard.

But this year, your fucking senior year, you were consistently being pressed, your dominance constantly being questioned, your restraint wearing thin.

And it was all Jungkook’s fault.

It all started at the beginning of the swim season... You had been talking to Kim Seokjin - the captain of the men’s team - before the very first practice. You had been glad the fellow senior was chosen, not only because he was a solid swimmer, but because he was supportive and such a laugh.

The two of you had been going over your competition schedules when a boy you hadn’t seen before had bounded up to Seokjin. “Jin-hyung! There you are. I thought I was running late, but it turns out I’m just really early.” You had blinked at the energetic boy who’d been way too excited for the 6 AM hour. He had felt your stare, looked at you, and continued, “Oh, hello. I’m Jungkook! Are you a freshman, too?”

Seokjin had stifled a laugh, and, for his sake, you had hoped it was at this Jungkook’s expense. “No,” You had glared up at him, ignoring his outstretched palm, “I’m a senior and the fucking captain of the women’s team.”

The freshman had turned bright red before smiling at you with renewed vigor, “So, you’re my noona then?”

“I prefer (y/n),” Your teeth had gritted together as your hands fell to your hips.

“Jungkookie…” Seokjin must have seen something on the younger boy’s face and had tried to prevent him from speaking again. It had been no use.

Jungkook had stared down at you with stars in his eyes as he announced, “I think I prefer you, too.”

And it had been precisely at that moment you knew that someday in the near or distant future you would enjoy disciplining that boy. Thoroughly.

Now, as if he felt your attention on him, Jungkook faced the direction where your team was gathered and locked eyes with you. His smile grew infinitesimally larger, and he blew you an exaggerated kiss with a wink. Your jaw clenched. It looked like you were going to need to have yet another talk with Seokjin about teaching Jungkook his fuckboy mannerisms.

Finally, the next event began to be announced, and Jungkook hopped out of the pool. You tried to turn your attention away from him, but you couldn’t. Not when he looked like he had been sculpted by the gods and had drops of water cascading down his tanned skin.

The proclaimed “golden freshman” strutted back towards your team area. His abs moved with each step, his muscled chest heaved for breath, his tight swim suit gripped his thighs and his crotch - basically leaving little to the imagination.

You stared at him with raised eyebrows as he approached, grinning at you and running a hand through his wet hair to slick it back out of his face.

Jungkook stopped in front of you and Lina, dangling his goggles from one long finger and swinging them in your face. “Did you see me win, noona?”

[That little shit.]

You swallowed your instinct to reply with a scathing remark. Instead, you remained cool as ice, just as you always did when Jungkook demanded your attention. It was your foolproof method for dealing with brats. “You know I did, Jeon. I have to watch everyone. That’s what good captains do.”

“Ah, that’s right. Captain noona…” His grin returned as you stared (READ: glared) up at him, “Always cheering me on and watching me win.”

“God, carrying that giant ego around must be exhausting,” Lina cocked her head and frowned at the younger boy.

“Are you talking about my dick?” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows in mock confusion, “I mean, I guess it is pretty big. Maybe noona could help me carry it...”

You saw red; and, for the first time since meeting him, your perfect control snapped. Rising to your tiptoes, you gripped his neck to lower him enough so your mouth lined up with his ear, “Listen, Jeon. You better watch that pretty little mouth of yours before I tie you up and gag you.”

You pulled back. Jungkook’s eyes were blown wide open, his cheeks stained pink, his ears bright red. “N-noona!”

Lina was cackling next to you over how flustered you made the typically overconfident boy. You allowed yourself a brief cheeky smile at your friend before returning to a straight face. You needed to go get ready for your next race.

You had been trying all season to break your personal best time in the 100 meter butterfly, and you had a good feeling that you might just accomplish that today.

“I’m going to go warm-up,” You told Lina, grabbing your swim cap and goggles from your bag.

“Good luck, (y/n)!” Lina slapped you a high-five, “You got this. You are a legend. A queen!”

“A goddess!” Jungkook chimed in, peering at you from over Lina’s shoulder with heart eyes.

“Kook,” Seokjin swooped in and tugged the boy away from you, “Not the time. (Y/n) needs to focus! Good luck, babe!”

You gave the other captain a thumbs-up and headed down onto the pool deck. Faintly from the stands behind you, you heard Jungkook whining on about how Seokjin was allowed to call you ‘babe’ but he wasn’t.

Pushing that aside, you hopped into the designated warm-up/cool-down pool that was adjacent to the competition pool and proceeded to loosen up before your race.

Visualize the victory.

Take down the competition.

Leave nothing behind.

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself hovering over the starting block, awaiting the starter. The natatorium was silent. You sucked in a breath and dove into the pool at the sound of the starting buzz.

Your body felt like it was on autopilot. Kick, kick, pull. Kick, kick, pull. Each time you took a breathe you could hear a split second of the roaring crowd. You pushed yourself faster.

Two laps turned into three as you sprinted. You didn’t dare check on your competition; those would be precious milliseconds wasted. And, as you swam your final lap, you didn’t even dare to breathe, swimming your hardest right until you hit the wall.

Gasping, you clutched the wall and swung around to look at your time.

00:51.34

Your best fucking time.

You felt like crying, laughing, and screaming all at once. As you shook hands with the girls to your right and left, you smiled hugely up at your cheering teammates. They had known how much you wanted this - needed this.

The next race began to be announced, and you hauled your tired self out of the pool. Immediately, you were swept into a tight hug by your coach followed by what felt like your whole entire team. Your cheeks honestly hurt from smiling so hard.

As you thanked your last teammate, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Noona?”

You had never heard Jungkook sound so tiny; and, when you turned around, you didn’t stop him from hugging you.

“You did so good,” He mumbled, head burrowed into your wet hair. “My noona is so fucking good.”

You melted at his words. It had been so long since someone had called you ‘theirs’. And, so, you blamed your post-adrenaline spike exhaustion for your following actions.

Your arms slid around him, tugging him closer. You felt every ridge of his hard body - separated only by the thin swimsuits you each wore. Your nipples brushed his chest, and you honestly didn’t know if the moan that followed was from you or from Jungkook.

You whispered, “Thank you, Jungkook.” Calling him by his first name was a rarity for you, and the muffled hum from the boy wrapped around you let you know it was well received.

And, when you pulled away from him, you made sure to run your hands over his chest along the way.

[That one had been on your bucket list, okay?]

Still so close to you, Jungkook stared at you with an unreadable expression. “Noona, are you coming over tonight?”

The men’s team always hosted the post-meet party at their house, and that was fine with you and your team. It meant no mess and lots of free alcohol.

“Yeah,” You pulled your wet hair over your shoulder, “I’ll be there. Post-Regionals is always so fun.”

“Well,” Jungkook puffed out his chest, “This year will be even more fun since I’ll be there!”

Ah, there he was - Cocky Jungkook™.

“You promise?” You smirked, tossing you hair over your shoulder as you moved past him, “After all, this is the only one you’ll get with me, Jeon.”

You didn’t look back at him as you made your way back to your team area.

But, if you had, you would have seen him staring intently at you with determination.

The challenge you had half-knowingly thrown down had been accepted.

Hours later, you and your teammates were decidedly tipsy from pre-gaming.

“Okay, we should get going,” You said, checking your phone, “Jin said - and I quote - the boys are going to start rioting if we don’t get our sweet asses over there.”

“I bet he’s talking about Jungkook,” One of your teammates giggled, “That kid’s been trying to get with (y/n) this whole year.”

“That’s so true,” Lina threw her arm over your shoulder, “You might as well just fuck him and put us all out of our misery. We know you want to.”

You scoffed, pushing her arm off of you, “I will not be fucking anyone.”

“That’s what you said last year,” Lina fired back.

“Wait, what happened last year?” One of the freshman whispered.

You sighed, “Two words. Lim Jaebeom.”

A collective hum of appreciation and understanding rose from the group at the mention of the now-graduated swimmer.

Your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You rolled your eyes, answering it. “Seokjin, for the love of god, we’re coming!”

“(Y/n)!” Seokjin yelled at you through the cries of what sounded like an angry mob, “My death will be on your hands if you don’t show up within the next minute!”

“You’re so fucking dramatic, Kim,” You hung up on him. Every fucking year the men’s team did this. You swore they couldn’t entertain themselves without you and your team.

“Come on,” You marched to the door, “Time to go ruin some boys.” With that, the lot of you walked across the street to the men’s team’s house.

[Yes, they literally lived right across the street. Seokjin was the king of drama.]

Not even bothering to knock, you swung open the door.

“What the fuck is up, Kyle!” Lina announced your presence for you as she hurried past, “Your better halves have arrived.”

“Oh, thank god!” Seokjin appeared by your side, clutching his chest, “My life is saved at last.”

You playfully shoved him, “Shut up, Kim. Now, where are the drinks?”

“Allow me to guide you to them, my queen,” Seokjin grabbed your hand and tugged you over towards the crowded kitchen.

You let him lead you, greeting members of the men’s team as you passed by them. Your pesky little freshman was nowhere in sight.

“Captains coming through!” Jin screeched, “Part the seas!”

You shook your head in disbelief at his antics, laughing as people actually seemed to be listening to the chaotic boy.

“See what authority we have when we’re together, babe? We could totally be a power couple,” Jin grinned at you as you finally arrived by the drinks scattered across the kitchen counter.

You weren’t going to lie, Seokjin was hot. You knew it. He knew it. The pope knew it.

But, you had done the whole alpha male thing. It was fun, but just not for you. No, you wanted someone a bit more submissive. Someone who you could gently break and build back up again. Someone like—

“Jungkook!” Jin cried, almost bursting your eardrum, “Come take a shot with your captains!”

Busying yourself with pouring shots for the three of you, you felt Jungkook arrive before you saw him. The warmth of his body seeped into you as he appeared by your side.

“Hi, noona,” He greeted you, his arm nudging yours. You turned, taking in his ripped jeans and loose black shirt before meeting his eyes.

“Hi, Jeon,” You shot him a small smile. He looked really fucking good tonight. His hair was long and messy, like he had been running his hands through it constantly. His cheeks were flushed, and you wondered how much he had to drink before you arrived.

“Yes, yes, you have now exchanged greetings. Let’s move on,” Seokjin grabbed one of the shots you poured and hoisted it into the air, “To the best captains you’ve ever had!”

You threw your head back and laughed as you played along, lifting your glass in the air beside Jin. You felt Jungkook looking at you as if he’d never seen you act so carefree. And maybe he hadn’t.

The room echoed Seokjin’s declaration, and you took the shot, feeling the tequila burn down your throat as you locked eyes with Jungkook yet again. Heat settled deep in your stomach that you fucking knew was not from the alcohol you just consumed.

Jungkook’s lips were wet from the tequila, and your tongue subconsciously darted out to lick your own. His eyes latched onto the movement before looking back at you under heavy lids. “Noona…” The honorific came out like a plea, but you didn’t even think he knew what he was asking for.

“(Y/n)!” One of your teammates called to you from across the room, “Play King’s Cup with us!” You shot her a thumbs up. Fixing yourself a drink, you gave the now pouting Jungkook a lazy smile, “Talk to you later?”

You squeezed his arm briefly; and, as you sauntered away, you felt his eyes glued to your ass. And, naturally, you made sure to put a nice swing into it. God, were you actually going to do this? Were you actually considering fucking him tonight?

[Yes.]

You cursed Lina for putting the idea into the front of your mind. You cursed yourself for having that very same idea since the very second you met him. And you cursed the boy himself for being so outwardly arrogant but so sinfully submissive.

[Or at least you hoped he was a sub. God, how you hoped.]

You greeted the group gathered around the coffee table for King’s Cup and plopped yourself down between Park Jimin and Lina. Jimin smiled at you, his eyes crinkling and his cheeks pink. “Hi, (y/n)! I’m surprised Jungkook let you leave his side.”

Your eyebrows flew up, “And what makes you think I let Jungkook dictate my actions?”

Jimin gulped, eyes searching around the group for assistance and coming up empty handed. No one wanted to deal with your wrath. “I- I thought you were getting together?”

Lina let out a low whistle, “Jimin, you’re just a little too early, my dude. (Y/n), give the poor kid a break. Let’s play some King’s!”

Jimin let out a sigh of relief as the matter was dropped. “Sorry, (y/n). Geez, you’re scary when you’re mad, but also kind of hot.”

His admission cracked you up, and you pinched his blushing cheek, “Jimin, you’re too cute. Don’t even worry about it.”

Two boys turned bright red at your actions: Jimin from embarrassment and Jungkook from jealousy.

You didn’t even know how many rounds of the game you played before someone suggested playing something else. You had a pretty nice buzz going, leaning on Jimin’s arm and laughing at a joke Lina told.

“I’ve got it!” Kim Taehyung snapped his fingers, grinning manically, “Body shots!”

Chaos ensued. It seemed half the group was down, and half the group was against it.

You knew Lina had the fattest crush on Tae, and so you reluctantly joined the side in agreement. She shot you a grateful look.

“Let’s fucking do it,” You got to your feet, “Jin, do you have salt and limes?”

“What kind of host do you think I am?” He cried, running over to the kitchen and pulling random ingredients off of shelves. “We have salt, limes, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, cherries, sugar, orange juice, pickle juice, pepper—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” You slapped a hand over his mouth, “Tequila, salt, and limes should be okay. God, were you really just about to offer pepper? As in the fucking spice?”

“Yes,” His muffled response came from behind your hand.

“You’re something else, Kim Seokjin,” You muttered before turning back to the group. “Alright, who’s going first?”

“We wrote everyone’s names down, and we’re going to take turns picking,” Lina said, thrusting a hat in your direction that was full of slips of paper.

“No one else wants to go first?” You looked around the room suspiciously and then shrugged, “Alright, fine.”

You dipped your hand into the pile of papers and selected one. Opening it, your breath escaped you in a whoosh, “Jeon Jungkook.”

The room erupted into cheers.

“Fuck yeah! Get it, Jeon!”

“Oh, this is going to be hot!”

“Yas queen! That’s my mom right there!”

You threw the slip of paper at Lina as she screamed that last remark at you.

Searching the room for Jungkook, you found him lounging by the empty couch against the far wall waiting for you with a shit-eating grin. Did the boy think he was going to be taking the shot off of you?

[Oh, how foolish.]

You approached him, grabbing the bottle of tequila, a shot glass, the salt, and a slice of lime from Jin on your way over. Jungkook opened his mouth to say something, but you didn’t allow him the chance, “Shirt off, Jeon.”

Whistles broke out as Jungkook froze, looking confused for a second, and then he tugged his shirt over his head. You praised your decision-making skills. His body deserved to be worshipped with your tongue. It was only right and just.

“Now what, noona?” The boy grinned, crossing his arms across his chest. A move you knew he only did because it made his biceps flex.

“Lay down,” You tilted your head, indicating he should get down on the couch, “And shut up.”

Jungkook’s eyes heated at your words. He obeyed, laying down just like you asked. However, he brought his arms up and clasped his hands behind his head. The fucking brat knew what he was doing.

You would punish him accordingly.

Your finger brushed over his lips before pushing the slice of lime between them. “Hold that for me, would you?” You murmured, hitching one leg over his body and settling firmly on his lap.

Assessing where to put the shot, you decided—fuck it—and placed it right between his legs.

Vaguely, you heard the people surrounding you yelling and screaming, but you were only focused on Jungkook and how round his eyes were as they stared at your hand holding the shot glass steady, dangerously close to his crotch.

Suppressing a smile, you poured a trail of salt down the middle of his abs. Finally unleashing your evil grin, you lean close to him with your hair blocking your face from the audience, “You ready, baby boy?”

He nodded furiously.

You flicked your hair over your shoulder and slowly lowered yourself over his stomach. Keeping your eyes on his, you swiped your tongue teasingly over your bottom lip. Jungkook’s chest was heaving, his abs were tensing, his eyes were hooded.

You licked slowly down his stomach, tasting the salt and him all at once. His skin was burning under your tongue as you delved into each groove of his abs, making sure no salt was left behind. Satisfied you had gotten all of it, you shifted lower still, ghosting over the now growing bulge in his jeans to hover over the shot.

Wrapping your lips around the glass, you tilted your head back as you straightened into a sitting position. The liquid coursed down your throat, but you barely felt the burn this time. You moved up, settling right on his hardening cock, and sucked the lime from his mouth.

Jungkook let out a breathy moan as you threw the lime’s peel somewhere over your shoulder, ignoring the indignant cry in response from Jin.

You kissed him, his lips sticky with lime juice and oh so delicious. His hands finally moved from behind his head to grip your hips. You didn’t even realize you were grinding into him until his hands tried to hold you still.

[Sorry, not sorry.]

Sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, you tugged on it before releasing it to place another soft kiss on his mouth.

“Okay, okay,” Seokjin’s loud voice broke through your daze, “No fornicating on my couch, please!”

“So, if we were married, we could fuck on it? Is that what you’re saying?” You pulled away from Jungkook’s mouth and laughed at Jin’s gobsmacked expression.

“Yah, so disrespectful!” He yanked you off of Jungkook and set you on your feet, “Okay, who’s next? Tae and Lina? Me and Jiminie?”

You shook your head at your fellow captain and turned back to Jungkook; but, you found the couch empty. Whipping around to look for him, you noticed one of your teammates gesturing towards the stairs. You shot them a thankful glance and darted in the direction the boy apparently disappeared in.

“Jeon?” You called as you reached the top of the staircase. Failing to hear a response, you moved down the hallway. Your eyes and ears strained for any sign of him.

Finally, your gaze focused on the closed door at the far end of the hall. A soft light emitted from the bottom of it; and, as you crept closer, you heard Jungkook cursing on the other side of it.

You knocked once. “Jeon? What are you do—” Your words died in your throat as you threw open the door and laid eyes on a very naked and very turned on Jungkook.

“Noona, I can explain!” He jumped out of his bed, fumbling around for his pants.

You calmly shut the door and locked it behind you.

“Shh, baby,” You whispered, crossing the room and stopping in front of him. “You don’t have to explain. It made you hard, didn’t it? Having me on top of you, licking your skin, kissing your lips… You just couldn’t help yourself, hmm?”

Jungkook’s throat bobbed, “Y-yes. I’m so hard it hurts. Noona, please touch me.”

“I can see that,” You glanced down at his cock. It was admittedly big, and it reminded you of what he had said earlier about you holding it for him. “Jungkook, I want to make you feel good, but you’ve been such a brat to me this whole year. Why should I?”

You turned and began to walk to the door. As predicted, Jungkook rushed around you to block the exit, “Please, (Y/n)! I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll stop bugging you. I’ll return the swim cap I stole from your bag...”

[That was him? You looked for that cap for weeks!]

He continued, “I’ll stop trying to get your attention! I’ll—”

You grabbed his cock - a truly effective method to shut him up. “You’ll be good for me, baby?” Your thumb brushed across his slit, collecting the drop of precum gathered there. Bringing your thumb to your mouth, you licked the droplet off, savoring the salty taste.

He let out a strangled groan as you did so. “Fuck yes, I’ll be good for you. I’ll be your good boy.”

“You know,” Your hand returned to stroke his cock slowly, before dropping it, “I don’t think I believe you.”

“No!” Jungkook looked close to tears as he tried to bring your hand back, “Please, I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” You sunk to your knees before him, “You’ll do anything, Kookie?”

He shuddered, “Yeah, I’m yours. I’ll do anything as long as you ask me.”

“Really?” You cooed, running your fingers up his toned calves and quads, “I like that the sound of that, baby. Okay, fine. But you can’t come until I say so, got it?”

After seeing him nod vigorously, you spit on the head of his cock and use your hand to spread the combination of spit and precum around.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hissed, leaning against the door, “Noona is so dirty.”

“Oh, baby,” You grinned, “You have no idea.”

And, with that, you took the head of his cock into your mouth and sucked.

Jungkook let out a choked groan, his fingers sliding into your hair.

You took him as far as you could and then swallowed around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” He chanted above you. You glanced up at him and hummed in amusement at his fucked out expression, and the stimulation from your humming only made him squeeze his eyes shut tighter.

You released him with a pop. “Jungkook, look at me when I suck your cock.”

“Y-yes, noona,” The boy blinked his eyes open and angled his head down to meet your eyes.

“Good boy,” You nodded and then licked up the underside of his cock before taking him back into your mouth.

You blew him hard, stroking the parts of his cock you couldn’t fit entirely in your mouth. Your mouth bobbed, your hands grabbed his ass, your tongue swiped over him.

“Please, please, noona, I’m so close,” he begged, looking down at you with wide eyes and a pleading expression, “Please let me come, (y/n)!”

You glared up at him, releasing him once again, “No.”

“What? Why?” Jungkook gasped above me, his breath coming in pants, “Please, can I come in your mouth?”

“No,” You repeated, your hand stroking him loosely. He whined, his hips straining to try to get you to grip him tighter.

You dropped your hold and stood, heading over to his bed.

“Nooo! Noona!” The brat moaned from behind you. You glanced back and scowled as you saw him clutching his cock in his hands.

“Jungkook, if you don’t get your hands off your cock in the next second, I won’t let you touch me.”

He dropped his cock like a hot potato. “I can touch you?” His eyes shone at the possibility.

You rolled your eyes and tugged your t-shirt dress over your head.

“Damn, noona, you’re so sexy,” Jungkook reached out to grab your waist but you smacked his hand away.

“Lay down on the bed, Kook,” You ordered, unclasping your bra and shimmying out of your thong, “I’m going to ride your face, and you’re going to make me come.”

“Hell yeah,” The idiot launched himself onto the bed and flipped over onto his back, “I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life.”

You pinched his nipple and he yelped. “You’re such a dweeb,” You sighed, getting into position on top of him. He grinned up at you from in between your thighs.

“I think I’m in heaven,” He said, flicking his eyes across your body and staring hungrily at your pussy.

“Hm,” You shrugged and lowered yourself down just out of reach of his tongue, “I don’t know about that, but I do know that if you make me come hard enough, I’ll reward you.”

With that, you sunk down onto his face. His tongue immediately delved into you, flicking and lathering between your folds. His hands flew up to grip your ass, pushing you harder down onto his face.

[Fuck, you had never been more thankful for swimming and its conditioning. Amazing breath control? Check. Incredible stamina? Double check.]

You arched your back as Jungkook circled your aching clit. “That’s it, baby,” You moaned, reaching down to roll your hardened nipples between your fingers, “You’re doing so well. You’re making me feel so good.”

His pace quickened at the sound of your praises, his tongue thrust inside you, his nose rubbed at your clit. You felt the pleasure building and building. “Yes, Jungkook, don’t stop,” You looked down at him and his eyes were so dilated. He was looking back at you like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

And it was that look that pushed you over the edge. You came with a scream, your legs giving out from under you and your full weight falling on Jungkook. The boy took it, tongue unceasing in its movements, lapping up every last drop you have him.

As you rode out the last of your orgasm, you lifted yourself off of Jungkook and stood.

“I’m sorry, noona,” Jungkook said, breathing hard.

“What for, baby?” Your cocked your head, confused as to what he could possibly be sorry for after making you come so hard.

The poor boy blushed furiously. You glanced over him and quickly realized the problem.

“You came on yourself?” You murmured, stroking your hand through his hair as he gazed up at you regretfully.

He nodded, lower lip jutting out in a cute pout.

“You know,” You said, rounding the bed and settling in between his legs. “Usually I would punish you for this, but I think it’s really fucking hot that you came just from eating me out, baby. I’m just sad you didn’t come in my mouth or my pussy.”

You swiped your finger across the cum gathered on across his abs and sucked it into your mouth.

“I can still come inside you, noona!” Jungkook rocketed up into a sitting position, “Look, I’m already hard again! That’s the effect you have on me!”

You looked down and, sure enough, he was right.

“What a lovely surprise,” You murmured, “Now, should I let you have my mouth or my pussy?”

“I would die for your pussy, noona,” Jungkook said gravely.

“Always so dramatic…” You pushed him back down and lined his cock up with your pussy.

He bit his lip, watching entranced as you pushed the very tip of his cock inside you. A choked breath burst out of Jungkook as you sunk down lower.

“Noona, you’re so fucking tight. You feel so fucking good,” His hands clenched on your thighs as you took him to the hilt and rolled your hips. Damn, he filled you up so nicely. Your walls clenched tightly around him, every shift of your hips brought delicious friction.

“Move, noona, please,” He begged, “Fuck me.”

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down, reveling in the moan he let out in response.

“Play with my nipples, Kook,” You panted, beginning to ride him hard.

Jungkook grabbed your ass and shifted backwards. Sitting with his back against the headboard, his mouth descended onto one of your nipples.

“Oh, yes, that’s it, baby,” You moaned, grinding down onto him as he bit down lightly.

“You’re so fucking hot, noona,” Jungkook groaned, “And your pussy feels so fucking good. I always knew it would though…”

You gripped his hair and tugged hard, “Don’t make me follow through with my gag idea.”

You felt his cock twitch, “Oh, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“No,” He lied.

You brought two fingers to his mouth, “Suck.”

His eyes widened at your command, but his mouth opened obediently. You shoved your fingers inside. Quickening your pace, you bounced on his cock as he sucked on your fingers, moaning around them. You brought your other hand down to play with your clit as you felt your second orgasm rising.

“Are you going to come, Kook?” You panted, clenching down around him, “Are you going to fill me up? Are you going to paint my walls with your cum?”

He nodded furiously, still lapping at your fingers. His hips bucked up into yours, and you clenched down one last time before pinching your clit.

The onset of your climax set off Jungkook’s as he came hard. You tugged your fingers out of his mouth as the boy cursed and cried your name over and over.

The warmth of him filling you up felt so fucking good. “You’re such a good boy, baby. You’re my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” He smiled with his eyes still shut, “I’m noona’s good boy.”

Suddenly his eyes shot open and he frowned, “But for how long?”

“What, baby?” You shifted off of him to lay down at his side.

“How long am I going to be your baby?” His pout from earlier had returned with epic proportions, “Don’t think I didn’t see you earlier getting close with Jimin-hyung downstairs. And I know you let Jin-hyung call you ‘babe’! And—”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. “Shut up, you idiot,” You said, lips brushing over his, “You’re mine for as long as you want me and for as long as I want you.”

His pout remained, “But what if Jaebeom-hyung comes back?”

“How do you even— I’m going to kill Jin,” You growled before bringing your hand up to brush over Jungkook’s cheek. “Jungkook, listen to me. Yes, you’ve been a nuisance this whole season, but I always knew you did it because you liked me.”

You grinned at his blush and continued, “Well, guess what? I like you, too. God only knows why. You’re cocky and brash and loud and—mmmf!”

Jungkook flipped you over and attacked your mouth with kisses. “Noona, you like me?”

“Yes,” You groaned, shifting your face to try to avoid some of his affection, “I like you, you big brute of a baby.”

“Oh, this is so exciting! I’m going to have to plan the most perfect first date. Oh my god, we are totally going be that Swim Power Couple™. Holy shit, wait! Just think about how good our kids are going to be! We’re going to make a whole team of Olympians, noona!”

“Jeon Jungkook!” You screamed, “Kids?! Good god, what am I going to do with you?”

He smiled down at you and kissed your cheek, “Keep me forever, I hope, noona.”

You smiled back at him softly, “I think I just might…”

3K notes · View notes

mrsniallhoran505 · 4 years ago

Text

A Good Girl, Through And Through

******Quick note here. This was a dream that I had not to long ago. There are some descriptors of the male in the smut but its left open for you to add in who ever you want to imagine... for me it happened to be Jensen Ackles/Dean Winchester. (so I will tag it as such) I couldn’t tell which given the house was the one J&D showed on AD but he was dressed like Dean and sounded like him. so feel free to think of who ever you want... and please let me know if you want me to post more of the crazy ass smut dreams I have. Now please enjoy A Good Girl, Through and Through.******

"Strip." He commanded. I didn't hesitate to do as I was told. It's what I've been hired for after all. I took my clothes off and dropped them in a pile beside me.

"Over to my desk," he nodded to it in the corner. I walked over, my heels clicking on the tile floor. "Bend forward and put your hands flat on the desk, legs spread." He downed the rest of his drink and placed the empty glass on the table.

I complied with what he asked of me. I wanted to speak, but I wasn't given permission. He was tall, broad, and strong. His voice rough and deep, making me wetter with each syllable that passed his plump lips.

I didn't realize he moved till I felt his hand on my hip. Normally this is where the guy would tell me something along the lines of, "scream as loud as you want baby." Or even, "my name is… scream it for me."

He said nothing as he got to his knees. He placed both hands low on my ass and spread me. Before I could even brace myself I felt his tongue against me. Licking from my clit, over my entrance, and back again. I moaned softly, pushing back when his tongue passed over my entrance again.

He continued to lap at me in slow long strokes. I was dripping with his spit and my own juices. Finally after what seemed like hours he pushed his tongue into me, swirling it around as he brought his large callused hand down on my ass.

I jumped and let out a louder moan. He tongue fucked my cunt a few times before moving down to suck my clit, using his tongue to rub it quickly. My legs started to shake, my moans growing in volume. He moaned against me and smacked my ass again.

He was eating me out like a starved man given his favorite meal. All I could do was hold on and moan. Just when I thought he'd let me cum he pulled away. I wanted to look back at him, see what he was doing. See my juices smeared on his lips and beard but I couldn't. I refused to break the pose he had me in.

Finally he moved again. He pushed his tongue into my cunt one last time before pulling back and spitting on my entrance. I wasn't a fan but if he wanted it, I'd gladly take it. He used the spit as extra lube as he pushed two fingers into me.

I clenched around his fingers, moaning loudly. I wanted to beg for more, let him know I could take it, but the words died on my lips as he started fingering me fast and hard. My body rocked each time his fingers thrust in.

I felt them twisting inside me, pressing at different spots. He was looking for my gspot and he was close to getting it. He leaned forward and dragged his tongue over my asshole making my hips push back again, this time his fingers found my gspot and I cried out.

It was all too much. I nearly broke my role and spoke, but he started fingering me fast, keeping his fingers pressed to my gspot. His tongue was now working its way inside my ass and all I could do was let out high pitched moans and whines.

He knew I was close but he didn't give me permission so I held off. Part of me started to wonder if he remembered he had to give me permission.

When I reached my breaking point he pulled back and stood up. "Turn around and get on your knees." He watched my movement as I stood and faced him before lowering to my knees. The tile was hard and it would hurt my knees but I would never disobey or argue. I was a good girl through and through.

"Open your mouth and stick out your tongue." I did as I was told, tilting my head back to look at him. He leaned down and shoved two fingers in my cunt again. I moaned as he swirls them inside me. When he pulls them out he stands up straight and looks at me.

"Do you have a gag reflex?" He asks and I shake my head no. His brow went up quizzically. "Let's test that." The fingers he used to finger fuck me were now being pushing into my mouth. My juices still coating them. He made sure to press on my tongue as he slid them deeper.

He passed where the gag reflex would be but kept going till he felt my throat. My eyes fluttered closed and I moaned around his fingers. He looked at me curiously.

"You like that?" He asks and I nod yes. "Keep your eyes open, on mine." I quickly snap my eyes open and lock stares with him. He starts to finger my mouth, keeping a heavy weight on my tongue. I moan softly, fighting against closing my eyes.

"Good girl." He pulls his fingers back and leans down to spit in my mouth. I hold still waiting for his order. "Swallow it." He growls and I do as I'm told. "Open up, tongue out." I resume my position.

He takes his hard cock out and if I had to guess he was a good nine inches, maybe ten. He was thick from base to tip. I'd be split in half but I'd enjoy every centimeter.

"Let's see how well you like this." He taps my tongue with his cock head before pushing in slowly. "Careful of the teeth sweetheart, don't need my cock to be grated." I tuck my lip over my top teeth, the bottom was covered by my tongue.

He started thrusting once his tip hit the back of my throat. I moan around him, loving the feel of his thick meat in my mouth. Every few thrusts he'd push deeper, eventually he was fucking my throat, gripping my hair to guide me on his cock.

I let him use me. Let him do as he pleased as long as I could take it. When it became too much I gave him the signal. He pulled out and let me breathe. When I was ok again I took back up my pose letting him know I could continue. He didn't waste time, burying his cock in my throat.

I kept my eyes locked on his as he fucked my throat raw. Moaning around him as he got satisfaction and my oral fixation got satisfaction. "That's it babygirl, swallow my cock." He pushed in as far as he could before reaching down to squeeze my throat with his hand. My eyes watered and my throat constricted around him but I could take it so I held on.

He let out a low, throaty moan that I knew vibrated in his chest. I wanted to run my hands up over his stomach to his chest to feel it. I wanted to climb him and have my way but this wasn’t about me, this was about him. I was his to use and I’d do as I was hired to.

He slowly pulled out till just the tip was left in my mouth. He looked down at me and gently stroked my cheek. “Look at you… Drooling over my cock like a bitch in heat.” He makes a tsking sound like he was scolding me but I could see the lust in his eyes, feel his cock pulsing against my tongue. “Stand up.” He growled.

I stood up and licked my lips, my eyes still on his. He pulled me close and pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to my lips. It was sweet and held a promise to care for me. When he pulled back he looked me over. “I’ve barely touched you and you already looked well fucked.” He cups my cheek and runs his thumb over my bottom lip; which was red and swollen from his rough face fucking. “On the couch, hands and knees.” He nudged me to the couch gently. I nodded and walked over. I get on the couch and take the asked position.

I could hear him get himself another drink, hear the ice hit the glass. When he walked over he placed the glass on my back. “Don’t drop that.” He stepped into view so I could watch him strip. Anytime I looked too relaxed he would stroke his cock reminding me what was to come. When he was naked I could see just how much of a man he was. He wasn’t just some muscle head that was sculpted abs and hard muscle. He looked strong like he could bench press me and not struggle one bit but also like hugging him wouldn’t leave me bruised. He was everything I wanted and more.

“How are you with cold?” He smirked and walked behind me lifting his glass. I was asked a direct question but it wasn’t one he wanted me to answer. He had the answer. He read it. I figured he’d tease me with the cool glass of his drink so when I felt his cold tongue press against my cunt I jumped slightly but relaxed and moaned loudly. He kept his tongue and breath cool with an ice cube in his mouth as he ate me out. I was dripping again, I could feel it down my thighs. My hands dug into the couch as I tried to fist them.

When the ice melted he put the glass down and got to his knees behind me. He teased his cock head between my folds. With how cold he left me I could feel heat coming from him and it made me shiver. “I’d relax if you don’t want me splitting you in half.” I could hear the smirk in his voice. This would normally have me rolling my eyes but with him I did as I was told.

I took a deep breath and relaxed. As I let the breath out he pushed into me making me moan low. I could feel every single inch of him. He was the biggest thing I’ve had in me and it scared me a bit how easily he fit. Soon he bottomed out and I swear he was in my womb. If I looked down I’d probably see the outline of his cock in my stomach.

He gripped my hips right where they curved so his grip wouldn’t slip. He was a pro. He guided me forward a bit then held me still as he pulled out. I whimper slightly feeling empty without him. I hear him chuckle. “I’m not going anywhere babygirl.” He pushed back in and pulled me back on his cock. I got what he wanted from me. He wanted me to meet his thrusts. On the next one I did it and he moaned in approval.

We found a rhythm working together to get off. Each thrust it seems like he was somehow getting deeper, making sure no other man would suffice. He was ruining me. I dipped my hips slightly and he kept fucking me harder, now his cock dragged over my gspot each time making me whine and moan for him.

“Look at you taking my cock like your cunt was made for me.” He growled and smacked my ass. I moaned again wanting to tell him I was made for him, I was made to be fucked by his cock. But I couldn’t. After tonight, I’d never see him again. Not like this.

He pulled out and sat back. “On your back, I wanna watch you take my cock.” I did as I was told, spreading my legs for him. He leaned down and spit on my cunt before using his cock to spread it around. He pressed his cock head to my entrance and watched as he started to sink into me. I arched my back, pressing my head into the couch. I moan, gripping the couch tight in my hands. “That’s it, scream for me, babygirl.” he groans as he starts to fuck me hard and deep. His hips slamming into mine making my body rock.

I cried out, enjoying nothing more than being used by him. Enjoying bringing him so much pleasure. I enjoyed my pleasure too but the look of pure lust and ecstasy on his face made it so much more worth the bruises and soreness I know I’ll feel tomorrow.

“Do you wanna cum, babygirl? Do you wanna cum all over my thick cock?” He said it in such a teasing way I almost wanted to say no but I didn’t. I nodded my head, letting him know how bad by tensing up and moaning so loud my voice cracked.

“Cum for me.” He growled and started rubbing my clit in fast circles. I saw sound and tasted colors as my orgasm took over. My whole body tensed till it lifted off the couch, a cry of his name the only thing heard in his big lake house. He kept thrusting never once letting me forget his cock. When I finally couldn’t take it he pulled out and lowered me back to the couch. He crawled over me till he was on my chest then jacked his cock. I leaned my head up to wrap my lips around the tip. I sucked and licked the few inches I could get till he came. Spurt after spurt of his hot cum hitting my tongue and throat.

When he was done he pulled out and had me show him before allowing me to swallow. I laid back as he got up and got dressed. “The money is on the counter… A car is waiting, whenever you’re ready.” With that he left me to recover and see myself out.

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles x reader #mrsniallhoran505 works #jensen ackles

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.33}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

They arrived in front of Morgan's private rooms a few minutes later, and it instantly sobered Robin up from her feelings of happiness and comfort that she had been able to cling onto ever since setting foot into the office earlier. If only life could always be as easy as it had seemed minutes ago, just Snape and her, and their relentless curiosity for magic and adoration for each other… But it wasn't, and both of them seemed to remember that as they stood in front of Morgan's door in silence. If they didn't find out about Morgan's reasons, didn't find out what this entire thing was about, there would be no life for Robin to lead at all.

She looked up at Snape next to her for a silent moment of gathering her wits, and his gaze spoke volumes of the same story. They could do this. They would find the bloody portrait, and then they would take the next step and the next and the next until this stupid mess was over with, until Morgan was no threat anymore. Whatever that might take. Even if it meant having to make Dumbledore their friend or enemy.

Upon a silent agreement that time was of essence, Robin got started on opening the door at last. It was warded rather heavily as she found, but that didn't stop her in the least, and on the contrary made things rather easy in return. Quite like paint that was applied in thick layers, she could peel them back and remove them all at once, even as thickly plastered as they were. A few minutes of quietly murmured spells and some trial and error later, the door swung open with a little squeaking noise and opened up the view of a perfectly ordinary, even if slightly ostentatious bed- and living room.

"I have to ask…" Robin spoke up quietly, once they had closed the door behind themselves and were now looking around the dark room with a lumos each. "Are you actually bad at breaking into places, or did you just pretend to be? Earlier today, I mean."

"I successfully worked as a spy in one of the worst wars known to wizarding history, and even beyond that, you have seen the neighborhood I grew up in. What do you think?" He asked in return, easily and without reproach, while yet he kept his focus on searching the room around them.

"Honestly, I think you could probably break into Azkaban unnoticed and back out again as well if you wanted to."

"That's perhaps a bit exaggerated, but the general sentiment is close enough."

"Then why did you want me to do it?" A small frown creased Robin's brows, as her eyes darted over the various pieces of luxurious furniture. "I'm sure you're far better at opening doors than I am."

"To humour you." Again, his reply came easily and with an almost graspable not-smirk engrained in his tone, and Robin inevitably had to smile as well while he went on. "In very much the same way you always do when you ask me to grab an item from the top shelves for you. You know as well as I do that you wouldn't even have to use your wand to collect it yourself, but instead you keep asking me to help you. Because you know how much it pleases me."

The smile on Robin's lips broadened, and finally her eyes found Snape on the other side of the room. "I had a vague idea that you knew I was doing it on purpose by now. Did you see that in my mind?"

"No. I simply know you well enough to know how well you know me."

"That's as confusing as it is amazing." She sighed with the same smile, then went back to searching the room with her eyes fixed on the shadowy corners and places. "And thank you, for humouring me. I needed it today."

For another ten minutes they searched the admittedly small chambers in well practiced collaboration, checking even the adjunct bathroom and the wardrobes, but they still came up empty handed. Robin ran a hand through her unruly hair in frustration, then looked up at Snape who was standing next to her in the open space in equal irritation. "The bloody portrait has to be here. It wasn't in the classroom nor in the office, so it just needs to be here. There's no other possibility!"

"Considering how… frequented Morgan's quarters are by visitors of various kinds, it would only seem logical that he hid it well enough to not be found by guests on accident, but close enough to retrieve for his private moments."

"Ugh…" Robin shuddered while pulling a face. "It's not your fault, but any way to phrase it just sounds disgusting to me."

"I try to ignore that as best as possible. But the facts remain as they are, and I believe he hid it in close reach. The question remains as to where."

"Let's see… Perhaps we have to think like Morgan if we want to find the stupid thing." She suggested, and upon Snape's attentive yet expectant expression, she elaborated as silently demanded. "If I was Morgan, a wizard of thirty something years who is obsessed with a girl who is my student and who I happen to have a painting of… I would put it in a place where I often see it. I would be a lazy arse, but clever enough to still get my way; which means I would hide it somewhere where I don't have to move it, only conceal it."

"Sounds reasonable."

"And if I was Morgan, I would put it in a place where I can enjoy it while following my daily routine, since I would always be short of time and everything else would be too much of a hassle."

"Still reasonable."

"So… where in my chambers would I spend a lot of time?" Robin frowned to herself, then started sauntering through the room once more. "The desk, perhaps. I would always be working here instead of my office."

"But would you, as Morgan, not choose a place to display it that doesn't demand a constant split of attention? Having the portrait near the desk would pose a terrible distraction from your work. And as much as I hate the man, he always finishes his grading and other work neatly and in time." Snape commented in return, and Robin found herself nodding along as she trailed away from the desk again.

"True, I wouldn't be able to focus if I was constantly tempted to look at something I am obsessed with. And I would be terrible at controlling my own impulses. So… where else would I spend a lot of time by myself? What would I like doing in my free time?" She sauntered over to the small sitting area in the far corner, frowning to herself in contemplation. "Reading, perhaps?"

"You really don't have the slightest idea about what goes on in the mind of the average male, regardless of age, do you?"

Robin turned back around to Snape with a scoff, a half smirk and one raised eyebrow. "But you do? I can hardly imagine that."

"I was unfortunate enough to live with a hoard of them back in my school days." He scoffed at the memory, rolling his eyes to himself before he continued on in obvious disdain for what he was saying. "Perhaps Morgan was taking a literal approach with his words about looking at the painting each morning and each night. Perhaps, he hid it in the very place where he spends his every morning and night indeed."

"You don't mean-... No. No…"

"I wish I could hope I'm wrong." The gravity of Snape's tone made Robin shudder a little, or perhaps it simply was the idea he was so subtly presenting, but she took a deep breath anyway and walked over to the large four-poster bed in determination. That same model seemed to be a staple for all staff rooms, and if Morgan had hidden the portrait there, she would find it.

Indeed, after a moment of pushing through the queasy and awkward feeling of searching the vile man's bed, Robin finally found what she was looking for. Hidden under the roof of the canopy, concealed and fixated in place with some subtle charms work, was the portrait that she had last laid eyes upon in her fourth year. The almost perfect image of herself, the eerie similarity that now was almost absolute, hidden in such a place for only Morgan's eyes to devour at his fancy. Robin felt sick at the thought, her stomach churning, and even the last hairs in her neck were standing upright now. Morgan really hadn't been joking about his literal need for her… she suppressed the need to gag, which was only followed by another unpleasant shiver. This was worse than any amount of blood had ever made her feel.

"I, uh… I found the portrait." She finally managed to speak out loud without the bile rising in her throat, and after another few seconds of staring at the bloody thing that still looked just like she remembered, she added, "The… other me really doesn't have earrings, just as we thought, but otherwise she could be my mirror image. Well, if I had lived a couple hundred years ago, that is."

Her words faded, but even after multiple moments of silence she still received no answer, nor did she hear Snape coming any closer to look at her findings for himself. With a confused frown, Robin turned to look through the open room behind her only to find him lingering by the desk now, a deep frown plastered on his own face as he inspected a dark brown wooden box in front of him in silence. Again, as so often, his expression and body language spoke volumes, this time of weariness and caution.

"Sev? What's wrong?" Robin couldn't keep the concern out of her voice as she skipped over to the other side of the room to stand beside him in an instant. For a moment she followed his gaze to the intricately decorated box on the tabletop. It was an intriguingly unique piece, even if Snape seemed to be rather lost in thought than to be studying the object itself, and she finally looked back up at him with unease written all over her features when he still didn't reply. "Talk to me. Please."

"I believe to have seen this very object in the headmaster's office before… Years ago, when I was a student, and again and again when I started teaching, but not any time recently. In one of the shelves in the far back of the room where all the important artefacts are stored, far out of everyone's reach." He answered at last, obviously lost in thought and consideration, which didn't do much to calm Robin's uproaring nervousness. If Snape was concerned, she should be double as much.

"Do you know what's inside?" She finally dared to ask, and while she wasn't sure if she even wanted to know the answer, she suddenly was very certain that whatever the box held would bring them closer to solving the mystery around Morgan and the Portrait. It had to, everything else just wouldn't make sense. But perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

"I have no idea." He mused, seconds before casting a detection charm for curses and dark magic over the object, only to have it come back negative. "But we should certainly take a look. Out of all the bizarre objects in Morgan's room, this is perhaps the second most curious after the portrait."

"Why do you think that?"

"Have you ever in the entire castle seen an object that required a key and not magic to unlock it?" He finally turned to Robin, then motioned to the box once more while his eyes stayed on her though. Frowning to herself, Robin leaned down closer towards the box and held her wand so that she could properly study the object in question with sufficient light. Indeed, there was a keyhole on the lid. Something she hadn't seen in use in the longest time. For a few minutes she tried every spell to open the box she had at her disposal, then however gave up in the light of her company's greater knowledge of such spellwork.

"That really is curious." She said as she straightened her back once more. "Do you want to try?"

"I already have."

"And?"

"There is nothing to be done without the corresponding key. It seems to be entirely unaffected by magic in general. And knowing who the box belonged to, it likely wouldn't do to simply break it open either."

"Pity." Robin sighed, stemming her hands into her hips as she thought. If the box really had been among the important artefacts in the headmaster's office for at least ten years and had still been there when Snape started teaching, then it must have not been in Morgan's possession much longer than the portrait. But if-...

"I can feel you thinking, Robin." Snape interrupted her thoughts before she really could get going deeper. "And usually that results in some brilliant revelation. Enlighten me, yes?"

"Right…" She breathed, nodding both to him and herself. "I was just thinking, if the box was in the headmaster's office from possibly before the time you started school until roughly when you started teaching, then it can't belong to Morgan and also can't have been in his possession for long."

"The latter is obvious, but what brings you to assume the former?"

"Well, when you started school at the tender age of eleven, then Morgan must've been like what, sixteen? Seventeen?" She reasoned, more guessing than knowing, but the point stood nonetheless. "Either way, as you previously pointed out, he is quite the ordinary male with an ordinary mind."

"That we have yet to determine for certain."

"I'm not talking about him going crazy over me, that's another issue entirely so let's just ignore that for a second. What I mean is that at whatever age he was when you started school, he was still a teenager. And how likely is it that a normal teenager possesses artifacts that are important enough to make the headmaster's top shelf?"

"I see your point." Snape mused, frowning to himself again for a moment. "In that case Dumbledore must have given it to him deliberately, at a point in time after I started teaching even though there does not seem to be an apparent reason for that particular timing. Which in return makes it highly unlikely that the contents of this box don't correlate to the portrait in some way."

"Precisely my line of thought."

"That makes it all the more important to find a way to open this crude thing now." He grumbled to himself and went back to studying the box intently. "Obviously Morgan will possess the key, but I sincerely doubt that Dumbledore doesn't still have one as well. He wouldn't part from anything of relevance without precautions."

"Wait, so there can be more than one key?" Robin's mind came to a sudden halt, then toppled over some more and finally changed direction. "I was under the impression that Morgan would logically have the only one."

"I see no reason why there couldn't be more than one. Creating them certainly must be a difficult procedure, but not impossible to replicate over and over again if desired."

"Oh gods…" Her voice grew shallow as her heartbeat sped up in an instant, followed by a cold rush of adrenaline while she mentally chastised herself. They had a lock without a key. She had a key without a lock. How stupid could she be not to make that connection sooner?!

"Minerva's key. Of course…" He came to the same conclusion as her then, eyes widening every so slightly as he watched Robin fumbling with her locket with slightly shaking hands. She had too much adrenaline in her body for anything else, was too exhausted and anxious… But this had to be the reason why McGonagall had given her a key for her birthday, and why she'd been so insistent on it that Robin kept it a secret. She had another key to this box, a key that wasn't supposed to exist.

"Fingers crossed…" Robin said under her breath as she finally put the small piece of metal to good use at last. It fit into the lock easily, and with a weary look up at Snape, Robin finally twisted it in one swift move. It obliged without resistance, and she pulled her hand back as if burnt when not one metallic clicking was heard from inside the box, but multiple in a row. Oh gods, hopefully she hadn't just set off some trap or self destruction or anything of the likes… But after a few seconds, the sounds faded, and the box sat still and innocently as ever on the desk before them.

"Do you wish to open it or shall I?" Snape asked quietly, but even he didn't dare to take his eyes off the box now.

"I'll open it, and you make sure that nothing jumps at me. Like always, yes?" She propositioned, nodding to herself to perhaps shake some of the fear out of her head. This was a good idea… she just needed to make herself believe that now. "We've been in plenty of situations like this before, haven't we? I go off to inspect some potentially dangerous thing, and you make sure I survive it. Isn't that what we always do when we go hunting for ingredients?"

"It is similar enough, yes."

"Good…" She took a deep breath, then placed her hand on top of the lid and looked over at Snape once more for a confirmation of what she was about to do. He motioned for her to go ahead, and after another second of hesitation, Robin finally had enough of herself and flipped the stupid box open with a start.

Nothing jumped at her, nor did she seem to have set off any kind of follow-up spells. It simply was a box, admittedly larger on the inside than the outside, but Robin barely took notice of that any longer, seeing how most of her own boxes and bags were graced with the same magic. What did surprise her however were the contents the box in front of her held now, in all their striking unspectacularity. A look at Snape confirmed that he shared that sentiment to the fullest. They had expected anything at this point… but not just a gigantic stack of parchments, ranging from literally ancient to almost modern.

"Well, at least we have something to look into now…" Robin sighed to herself as she frowned down at the pile of paper in front of her. "There has to be some kind of important information written on these, or nobody would've bothered hiding them that well. They will either give us answers, or leverage on Dumbledore who in return can give us answers."

"Indeed… However this is hardly the time nor place to look through an epos of loose leaf parchments." Snape said in argument with circumstance, which made Robin look up at him again while raising her eyebrows.

"Do you really think we should just take the box? Morgan will notice for sure, and then it won't be hard to guess for him who took it."

"I think we should take the parchments." He returned easily, then motioned to the object in front of them once more. "The lid had a thin layer of dust on it already, which means that Morgan likely knows the contents of these papers at this point and therefore has no need to open the box again any time soon. If we leave the box where it is, and with a bit of luck, he won't notice the papers' absence until we long have the information we need. Until we are ready to face him on equal grounds."

"Clever." Robin replied with a half smile. "As always."

Snape merely rolled his eyes in that exaggerated manner that humour her so much, then they finally went to gather up the papers into a portable pile in his arms. Half a minute later, Robin locked the box back up with her key, then hid the latter back inside her locket.

"What about the portrait?" She asked as they made for the door at last, after having spent decidedly too much time in Morgan's quarters already. "It feels wrong to leave it here, in that place… I know we have to, but it makes me feel sick nonetheless."

"As much as it bothers me, I'm afraid we have to leave it where it is indeed." He answered, then his voice turned into more of a growl than the rich silk it usually was. "But don't believe for even a second that I wouldn't gladly end his pathetic existence for lusting after you like this."

"Because I'm yours and only yours?" She couldn't help asking with a small smile, while she peeked out through the door into the empty hallways first before opening it further for him as well.

"Because you deserve better than that."

"But also because I'm yours."

"Yes."

"You really can't deny that you are quite territorial, you know…"

"I would rather call it protective than territorial."

"Same thing."

"Does it bother you?" He inquired calmly but in seriousness, looking down at Robin over the papers in his arms expectantly.

"Rather on the contrary." She replied with a small but affectionate smile. "It makes me feel almost too giddy with pride and adoration. I just wish you could show a little more of that in public too; would certainly keep the right people from bothering me. Oh well… I wish."

"Believe me, so do I." He sighed in return, then took another look inside Morgan's room once they both stood in the hallway. "Let us hope he will be too drunk upon his return to notice the traces we left."

"Or… I could turn back the time inside the room to before we arrived?" Robin suggested more than asked with a hopeful and pointedly innocent expression. "You know I can freeze objects in time… And I'm actually quite sure that I can turn time back in a limited space just as easily, as long as there are no people inside. That's way more difficult, or rather impossible without a timeturner."

"You are aware that technically tampering with time is forbidden in any regard, yes?"

"So is breaking into a professor's private chambers and stealing his papers."

For half a second Snape seemed to freeze in his protest, then a not-smirk tugged on his lips and he shrugged as far as his arms full of parchments allowed. "I ran out of arguments. Go ahead."

A mirroring smirk played on Robin's lips for a moment, then she took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand. She'd read more about messing with time than she should probably admit, going through the entire restricted section of the library without anyone ever putting a stop to her efforts. Really, all the fun magic was in the restricted section anyway. Everything that was worth learning about. The part about potions and herbology she'd already finished years ago, then the dark arts had followed a long time prior as well, and now finally she had moved on to researching charms, also in regards to the still impending NEWTs.

It took two attempts to cast the difficult spell successfully, but then the room looked precisely how it had before they had entered. Even the layer of dust on the box was back in place and undisturbed by fingerprints. Content with her efforts, Robin finally closed the door and placed the same wards on it that she had removed upon their arrival.

"Do you know what truly is a shame?" Snape asked after a moment, while they quietly made their way back through the dark hallways and down a few stories.

"Quite many things, but please, do enlighten me."

"That neither Morgan nor Flitwick will ever know how ridiculously talented you are in their subjects."

Robin let out a humoured huff in replacement for a certainly too loud chuckle. "Oh, I think Morgan does know at this point. I managed to fend him and his best efforts off after all, even if just barely. Isn't that what defense class is about?"

"About fending off your crazy professor? I certainly hope not."

Now Robin did snort a little, even though the topic itself should have been rather depressing. "It's ironic that I have to defend myself against him with defenses that he himself has taught me. Or rather I would have to, if I hadn't read so much more about the dark arts in advance. What truly saved me today wasn't anything I learned in defense class… but rather the things I came up with myself, or what you showed me. Things Morgan didn't see coming."

"And therefore my point stands."

"How so?"

"Well, any idiot can learn the textbook by heart and master the school taught spells."

"Most idiots can't, in fact, as you very well know. They're far too narrow minded to even accomplish such a thing, and-..."

"Anyway…" He went on, in a manner that reminded Robin an awful lot of her own mannerisms, but she gave him that and let him go on. "What makes you such a brilliant witch and not just an outstanding student is that you don't even try to stay within the given boundaries. Most of the things you excel at are either straight out illegal for most people, or at least so far out of the school curriculum that your teachers will never know what you truly can do."

"I don't really mind." Robin shrugged in return. "It's a good thing that Morgan doesn't know me well enough to know what I can do. That's my only advantage over him."

"I certainly agree with that assessment. Perhaps once Morgan isn't an issue anymore we can see to it that you get the recognition you deserve."

"I just want to ace my NEWTs and move on to more interesting matters of study once and for all. I don't need anyone's recognition. The only person I ever actually tried to impress is you, and that seems to have worked out for me just fine." She replied with a small smirk, which earned her another of those lovely feignedly annoyed expressions in return. They both knew she was right though, she had impressed him so many times and likely always would, and it had indeed worked out in both their favour. And, almost needles to say at this point, Robin felt like they both were equally proud of that fact after all.

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 5 years ago

Text

Needs

Summary- Ransom x You. You can feel yourself spiraling out of control, and Ransom sets you straight. Warnings- Dominance, degradation. NSFW

Word Count-2.7 k

Most days your fine, normal, able to laugh, smile, tease your boyfriend, put up with his attitude and general snarkiness in strides. It all worked, you were happy and in love with the bastard.

But once in a while, you would slip into a place hard to describe. It would start with a moment of distance. Ransom would be venting about something, usually his family. They were the primary source of his frustration although he leaned heavily on Harlans financial support. Then he would pause, his eyes snapping over you as you seemed not there. “Whats wrong with you?” a bit of snark lacing his voice, and you would just smile a bit and come back to focus on him. “Nothing, Im fine. So Walt really said that?”

He would look doubtful, but wouldnt comment anymore on your strange behavior for the time being.

And that would be the start of your despair. It would start to consume you till it traveled into your chest, aching, heavy. Your body to would start to loose interest in touches and affection, pulling away when he would reach for you during the night. It was nothing Ransom done, and he would ask you once more “Whats wrong Y/N?” Leaning over you in the dark, but you had no real answer. You could feel him withdraw, leaning to sit up against the headboard, the tension brewing.

Then the day came you couldnt handle it anymore. Your skin was crawling, and no amount of distractions would help. Your mind buzzed incessantly with nothingness and everything. You needed it to shut the fuck up. When you heard Ransom coming up the steps and the door click, you fell to your knees with a bowed head, waiting for him to enter. Once he did, you head his audible sharp intake of breath. Please fix me, I need you. Silently you plead while not moving an inch.

Ransom admired you, he knew this was coming. Recognizing that dark little demon that had made its home in you for a lifetime, it matched well with his own. He approached you, his hand gentle at first along your jaw, his thumb brushing over the softness of your cheeks, this little soft hairs near your hairline, going to cling at his hand. But softness is to much, not want you need, and hes well aware.

The touch swiftly changed, going from caring to bruising as he grabbed your chin, fingers digging right into the fleshy part of your cheeks and tipping your head up so he could study you, and when your eyes met his, he snarled out “Did I tell the whore she could look at me?” Immediately your gaze dropped, his hand went to his pants, snapping open the button and unzipping the fly. Taking himself out, a few pumps around his erection made him stiff. Fingers digging in enough to pop your jaw to open. “Dont you dare loose a single drop slut.” He continued harshly, and you nodded, your words slurred from the grip he still had on you. “May I use my hands Sir?”

“Hands behind your back, your taking all of it” Ransom let go and fisted his hands in your hair, to hold you in place, the head of his cock slipping around your mouth and the tip of your tongue slides out to trace the head, flicking over his sit to and then he dominated your mouth, choking around him. “See, I knew you didnt need to use your hands, such a good little whore.” You do your best, your hands folding behind you, fingers locking together to keep from pressing them against his thighs to slow his thrusts down. Finally you match his thrusts, your tongue sloppily curling around his length, your cheeks hollowing as you suck on him. Heavy as he slams into the back of your throat, over you his grunts make you squirm, trying your best not to look up to see his expression.

Soon your gagging, messy between drool and tears brimming from your eyes when he looks down at you, drenching his cock and balls sloppinly when he pulls you closer, the spiral of heat snapping his gut as his cum shot the back of your throat, your eyes rolling up finally as you whimpered, doing your best to take it as he had told you to, brimming on the edge of your lips when he finally pulled from you and tucked himself back away. The tip of your tongue traces your lips to clean up quickly, slouching slightly even though his hand still is twisted roughly in your hair, it stings with a hiss as he jerks you enough to lift you to your feet.

“Dont forget, I own you little slut. Now get undressed and on the bed now. Do you understand me?” His head tilted as he stared you down, loosening his hold when you again dropped your gaze, Ransom dared you to defy him, but you knew better. “Yes Sir…”

“Go” he wrenched his hand away, and you were quick to escape to the bedroom while he went off to the kitchen. Tugging away your clothes and putting them into a pile, you folded them carefully and set them on the floor, on your side of the bed and crawled into the center, again taking a similar kneeling pose as before. When Ransom came back into the room, a tumbler of whisky in hand. Seeing you so patient, he was quick to finish it off, setting the tumbler aside on the nightstand “My little whore, so patiently waiting for me after being so good earlier. Its not going to save you though.” He promised as he placed a kiss on your lips, drawing out your tongue and slipping over your teeth, dragging your lips into a bite.

“Face down in those pillows, ass up high. Spread those thighs till I can see your pussy.”

You were quick to oblige, hearing him behind you rummaging through his chest drawers. You knew your ass was about to burn, but from what? You didnt have to wait to long when you felt the dip of the bed behind you, a glance over your shoulder showed that he had undressed as well. A sharp sting of his hand against your ass was issued when you looked back, growling out. “I said face down in the pillows.” You should have known better. His fingers traced the red handprint he left, admiring the way your back curved down, and you displayed yourself just for him, his fingers slipping between slickened folds.” Did eating my cock make you this wet, or have you been a needy little slut well before I came home?” spreading your slickness over your folds, around your clit. A slight pinch to your nerves made you yelp into the pillow “Answer me, I know you havent forgotten how to talk”

“From sucking you off Sir.” You imagined the satisfied smirk behind you playing across his face. Thats when you heard the whir of a vibrator, and he ran it along the back of your thighs, slipping to the inside of them. Ransom was always adding new toys to your collection, but he knew this happened to be a favorite of yours, making you come undone at the seams, but it was a two edged sword. He would bring it so close, making you bite your lip at the anticipation. A frustrated groan would fall from you, and his sharp laughter would come from behind you. “What, little slut cant wait to get what she wants?”

You knew better then to answer him, he was waiting for it though, letting the vibrator hover close to your aching pussy, but not giving it to you. Your ass sways, and that gets a sharp broad slap of a paddle, pushing you forward into the pillows. Right after that, Ransom slid the vibrator against your core, making the sting burn in all the best ways. The warmth of it traveled up your spine, and you arched further, crushing your chest into the mattress, and your back bending in a sharp curve. The vibes from the toy left you squirming slightly now, dripping mess. Ransoms hand replaced the paddle, digging his fingers into your ass cheek, pushing it up and jerking your hips back against him as you tried to pull away from the overload of sensations the vibrator rattling your core. “Oh no my little Slut, theres no getting away from it.” He leaned over and gave a sharp bite to your cheek.

You start whining into the pillows, fisting your hands into your designer sheets he insisted on having, panting as he upped the speed of the vibrator, your toes locking and legs half lifting off the bed. “Ransom, oh fuck.” Your pushing yourself back against the vibrator to dig into your pussy, harder, your eyes are rolling back in your head and taunt like your about to snap. The tension is hurting your muscles that cant loosen, they are about to break, and he pushed that vibrator up another speed, causing you to crash without permission. Your scream still sharp in the pillows and you try to drag any kind of air into your lungs, but the pillows are suffocating. Ransom turns off the vibrator and tosses it away.

Leaning over you as your still struggling to lift your head in these seconds, his frame leans over you and he fists his hand back in your hair, lifting your head to hear you drag in a gasp of air finally. “Fuck little whore, you came without permission.” He hissed against your neck, biting at your cheek, and down onto your neck, ripping his hand away for you to drop into the pillows. His hands curved around your hips and jerked them into where he wanted you. You shift to your elbows, or attempt to, but his hand wraps on the back of your neck, shoving you back into the pillows, twisting your head enough so you werent smothered. The thick head of his cock pushed against your entrance.

it was a hard snap, his thick cock felt like it was splitting you open, and there was no moment to adjust. Quick snaps of his hips slapping against the back of your thighs and ass, the tight hold of his hold on the back of your neck keeping you in place, but jerking you into the mattress beneath you. His feet locked behind your ankles to keep you legs spread and in place. There was no escaping him, driving himself deeper into you, was there anyplace he wasnt? It was as if he was rearranging your insides.

“Fuck Y/N” the first time since you two started he used your name, his slaps behind you bruising. He released his hold to slid under your chin, snapping your head up, and his fingers filled your mouth, unable to muffle the whines and cries now, his chest burned against your back, his teeth and mouth laying claim to your neck and shoulder, it wasnt kisses, it was inhalation of skin. firm sharp bites digging in, pulling sucking remarks of how good a fuck you were pressed into your ear as he bit your lobe, and all you could do was hold on best you could, your hands ripping into the sheets. Your channel clenching around his cock, but that didnt slow him any, and he ripped another screaming orgasm from you.

Shaking uncontrolled, you are sure hes ready to end you. But he pulls out and with a grasp to your hips, he whips you onto your back and jerks you down the bed till your perfectly flat. “No Ransom Im done” You claim, and he wraps your legs around your hips, catching the first glimpse you have had of him, his hair is disheveled in a flop over his eyes, and the tops of his cheeks are flushed red, his chest heaving slightly in exertion. He pops his hand against your breast, pulling the nipple with a sharpness that has you arching from it with a cry. “You dont look done to me, your not dripping my cum from that sweet little hole of yours. Were done when I say were done Slut.”

He was right, you reach to touch him, but his hand catches your wrists and slams them down above your head as he fills you again. “And your sweet pussy is just taking me so well. Going to leave you full of my cum. Cant let you forget who owns you.” Ransom grasped your breast, pulling and twisting till you were arching for more, or to try to break his hold, your not sure. It was a border line or pleasure and pain. He replaced it with his mouth, hot tongue and sharp bites holting you from his mouth with his hard thrusts, your hips rolling to meet him. Your fingers twisted in his hold, and head falling back as all of it, the sensations were becoming an overwhelming mess , and you snapped, coming again, your orgasm ripping you apart at the seams. Screaming his name and he lifted his head from where he was biting and kissing your breasts. Your tears streaming down your face, and there it was, finally.

Ransom had gotten you were you needed to be, that hard dominating look softened and shifted enough to cup the back of your head, and kissed you deeply, grunting against your lips as he chased his own orgasm, his hips rutting out of sync now and burying himself as he filled you, just as he promised he would. A few unsteady rolls of his hips spread his cum through you, and you just cried at all of it, his arms wrapping around you and rolling enough so that you laid against his chest, rubbing your back deeply and speaking softly as you cried against his neck. “Now thats my good girl, I got you its okay. So good to me, I love how well you took all that.” His hands would brush through your hair and everywhere was gentle touches, caresses bringing you back to him.

Soft kisses rove over the bite marks he had left of your neck and shoulder. You ache, you can feel how hes still buried in you, but soft now. Everything is about bringing you back down. Finally you lift your face and look up at him. “Can I have a bath?”

“Of course, let me just go set it up.” He moved you to curl up next to him and he slid from the bed, and into the bathroom. Ransom was alot of things, but these moments, you wouldnt know that he could be a spoiled trust fund brat. Everything was about taking care of you. All the way from drawing a bath, to easing you into the tub, he sat behind you and did things such as wash your back and took his time with your hair, sure to use your favorite washes. He even toweled dried you and brought you back to bed. “Hows take out sound tonight?”

“Yea that sounds really good” You started to perk up as you sat at the headboard of the bed, and he winked pulling out his phone. He knew your order, and he left the room to make the call. You wait, stretching yourself out, and once he returns, he fell down on the bed next to you, grabbing the remotes, flipping through the channels on the wide screen tv hanging across the room. It was an easy silence between you two when he settled it on a movie you two had seen many times before. Ransom was sitting against the headboard, your head laying on his stomach as you lay crossways across the bed. His fingers trailed slowly through your hair, the tv softly muffled and the only glow in the room.

After several minutes, he spoke, his voice catching your attention. “Are you feeling better now Y/N?” You twist so that your able to look up at him, laying on your back, still pillowed on his stomach.

“Yes thank you Ransom”

“Anytime Sweetheart, you know I love you, but next time tell me before it gets that bad.”

@what-is-your-plan-today @official-and-unstable-satan @jtargaryen18 @p8tn0lish @imanuglywombat

#ransom be my mean daddy any day #ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale x you #knives out

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queenjunoking · 3 years ago

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Wolf Taming pt 54

CW: Noncon - Petplay - Gaslighting

I didn’t really care about what Clarity wanted to show me. I was sore and could only look forward to being sore tomorrow as well. I knew they weren’t going to give me time to actually recover unless I completely collapsed and even then I wasn’t sure. Even if I got eight hours of sleep it wouldn’t fix everything that had been done to my body since last night.

But, I didn’t complain. I was trying to keep up the facade, trying my best despite the stumbles. Be good and listen. It was humiliating, but I had to do it. I needed to get as much trust as I could, if I didn’t have that I wasn’t going to get anywhere. I had stumbled a few times today, but they were small stumbles. They seemed to put up with them as long as I made an effort to do what I was ordered to do.

As we walked past the barn Clarity motioned to a group of stablehands to join us. Four left the group and started to follow a few steps behind us. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but if Clarity was getting backup it couldn’t be good.

We kept walking and eventually I realized we were going towards Eos’s house. I was wondering if I was going to have to go talk to her. I didn’t want to see Eos in the condition I was in, I wasn’t sure I could handle her evil rants right now. To my surprise, we continued on the path past the front door and walked around to the side of the house where we stopped.

“Here we are.” She said like I was supposed to pick up on something obvious. She reached up and unlocked the bit, allowing me to work the stiffness out of my jaw.

I squinted, trying to figure out what Clarity wanted me to see. The sun was directly in my eyes, making it hard to make out anything easily. We stood in front of an admittedly lovely looking garden. A mixture of flowers and vegetables. It was quaint, something I’d expect at an old lady’s countryside cottage. Not something I expected out of a kidnapper who made human ponies and cows.

I could barely contain a scoff at the two scarecrows in the garden. Apparently Eos was paranoid about crows taking her precious vegetables. I was surprised she just didn’t have one of her many slaves just standing here all day to scream at any crow that decided to land here.

A moan came from the garden, taking me by surprise. Clarity snapped her fingers and the four stablehands that had been following us split into two groups, each one heading towards one of the scarecrows. As they messed with them I felt my heart drop, those were people.

“The system is fairly ingenious. These are Sunflower Scarecrows, a punishment system that Mistress Eos created that also serves a purpose.” Clarity’s voice always took on a slight dream-like tone. Something that was always offputting, but took on a new kind of horror while I stared at the women being taken out of the frames. “Those who continue to act out are placed here. The frame keeps them posed like a scarecrow, leaving them unable to cover themself. The stand tips them so the sun is always shining down directly on their body. Like a sunflower, the stand turns so the sun is always shining down on them.”

I could hear muffled sobbing as the women were being unshackled from the frames they were on. If what Clarity said was true, they must be terribly sunburnt. My mouth felt dry as a word finally tumbled out of my mouth. “Why?”

I could feel Clarity getting annoyed already from just that one word. “Because those here need to learn their places. If they won’t learn on their own, we will teach them with any means at our disposal. At first this punishment was a simple one bar prison. They’d be made to stand in the heat, unable to sit due to the plug inside of them. It’s simply too large and too deep for the offender to escape on their own.” The annoyance vanished out of Clarity’s voice as she began talking about Eos’s horrible device again. “But, why let a slave do nothing for hours? Now a slave can protect these precious crops. They’re locked in the frame and gagged. If they see something coming for the crops all they need to do is squeeze that plug and activate a sound system to scare whatever it is away. And, if they do a good job, they’ll even get water once they’re taken down.”

I watched as each group lifted one of the women off the frame. Neither of them was able to stand on their own, each stablehand stood on either side of the woman and walked her over to us. It was only once they were close that I could make out their faces, the sun no longer obscuring the details.

I felt tears start to drip down my face when I recognized them. Lucky and Clover. Both looked dazed and in pain. Their skin was an angry red from their time in the sun. Their mouths still pried open by the massive gags shoved inside. I saw a glint of gold and saw clamps biting down on their nipples.

“They didn’t do anything wrong.”

The annoyed tone flared up in Clarity’s voice. “You’re right. They didn’t. You did. You are valuable to Mistress Eos. You will not get harsh punishments. Others will get them for you. They’ve been punished for everything you’ve done today. They got put here because you weren’t ready this morning.”

“You tortured them because I wasn’t ready this morning?!” I screamed. I couldn’t believe this is the kind of thing they would do to someone for something like that.

Clarity sighed. “Left, one each.” I wasn’t sure what Clarity was talking about until I heard two sharp screams. Each of the stablehands standing on the left had each slapped their captive’s sunburnt stomach. I watched both Lucky and Clover almost collapse to the ground, but the stablestands forced them onto their feet.

“Stop!” I was begging at this point.

“Left one each. Right one each.” I heard another round of screams as the one on the left hit each on a burned spot again before the ones on the right hit them as well.

I was sobbing almost as much as Lucky and Clover were. It was pathetic, I wasn’t even the one hurt. But I was responsible for it.

I felt Clarity push gently on the back of my knees. I was barely standing as it was, the tap was all I needed to fall onto them. Clarity walked in front of me and turned to face me. She was taller now that I was on my knees. Calm and passive despite the horrible things happening. She used one hand to force me to look into her big sad eyes.

“I don’t know how else to make you understand, Callidora.” She sounded like she was on the edge of tears herself. “I told you others would be punished for what you did. Yet you keep talking out of line, even now. Please, stop screaming. Stop swearing. Stop talking if you aren’t being asked to speak. You’re hurting them because you can’t behave. Your behavior can’t go unpunished. These two are my friends and you’ve made me hurt them.”

I hadn’t made her do anything, but I understood now. Deep down in my heart, I had hoped it was a lie. That they were just saying that in hopes of keeping me in line. They wouldn’t just punish people unrelated to the offenses to make some kind of twisted point. That, maybe, they would just put up with me because I was important.

The evidence to the contrary was staring at me now, though. Anything I did would be punished. Eos couldn’t do to me what she did to Lucky and Clover and have me race. She was more than willing to hurt people to make her point.

Clarity walked behind me, I could feel her body against mine. I tried to look down, I didn’t want to meet eyes with the two hurt because of how I acted. But Clarity grabbed my head and forced me to look up at them. I tried to shut my eyes, but with a practice motion her fingers pried my eyelids open. Try as I might, I couldn’t shut my eyes. All I could do was stare at the two.

“I want you to understand what you did today. Not being ready in time got them here. The clamps were added because of the first few times you spoke out of turn. Your attempt to struggle out of the pen’s harness took away their chance to get some water sprayed on them. They lost a chance to cool off. Then your outburst during your conversation with Frosthoof got them sprayed with an irritant, making them feel even worse.” Clarity began to stroke my hair, but I couldn’t even feel angry at her for the patronizing action. I just felt numb. “Every time you messed up today, they got punished for it.” She let go of my head and walked towards Lucky and Clover. “And they might not be done yet. They’ve had a long and very hard day, but I’m not convinced you’ve learned your lesson yet.”

A new stream of tears began. Of horror and frustration. The horror of the idea that they might be punished more and the frustration of not even being allowed to beg for leniency. I wanted to scream and beg, but I stayed silent.

“They’ve been awake all day. Maybe, while you’re getting some rest tonight, they shouldn’t. I was thinking about not letting them sleep tonight. They can probably wait until morning for some water. Maybe knowing that they’re waiting for you to wake up in the morning so they can get a drink before they start their work for the day will get you to behave for the rest of the night.” Clarity turned to me. Despite the horrible things she was saying, she still looked sad. “What are your thoughts, Callidora?”

I waited for a second. I was allowed to talk if I was asked something directly. I quickly tried to gather my thoughts, I needed to convince her to spare them. The idea of making them go the entire night without water and sleep only for them to immediately have to work the next day was horrific.

“Please. I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll be ready tomorrow morning when Mistress Eos comes down.” I made sure to call Eos by her stupid title in the hopes of getting a few more points with Clarity. “I’ll do even better on tomorrow’s exercises. I’m still learning, I can’t promise to be perfect, but I will do my best. I will be better. I can do better. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. Please…” A choked sob escaped my throat. “Just…. just let them sleep.”

Clarity walked back over to me. I looked her in the eye, doing my best to convince her I was sincere. She stared at me for a few moments before she spoke. “I will give them water, sleep, and a special ointment to help them heal quickly if you behave tomorrow. They will be allowed to rest tomorrow.” I felt a wave of relief, but then she kept talking. “But. If you aren’t ready by the time Mistress Eos comes down tomorrow they will be put back on the Scarecrow. If you misbehave tomorrow they will be sent back to work in the state they’re in. You choose their fate, Callidora. Do you want them to go without water and sleep tonight and not have to worry about them being sent back here? Or do you think you can behave tomorrow?”

I felt the sword dangling over my head. If I messed up, they’d be back here. I could spend the day without that sword over my head, but I’d have to tell them both that I’d rather their torment continue than behave.

When I found my voice it was barely a whisper. “Please. Let them sleep. I’ll be good. I promise.”

Clarity smiled and kissed me on the forehead. “I’m proud of you, Callidora.” She turned around and spoke to the stablehands. “Place Lucky and Clover in the recovery cells. Place the first round of oinkment on them before they sleep, then do it in another 4 hours. After morning activities start, apply it every two hours.”

The stable hands nodded and carried the two off. I could hear moans of pain from the two as they were handled. Each sound a stab in my heart. They were like this because people were mad at me. I should be the one that was put here, not them.

“Remember, Callidora. This never needs to happen again.” Clarity knelt down and took my head in her hands, forcing me to look into her sad eyes. “I don’t want it to happen again. Lucky and Clover are my friends and it brings me no pleasure to hurt them. Just be good. All you need to do is behave and train.”

I felt my heart break. If I tried to escape and failed, Lucky and Clover would only get a far worse fate. Even if I escaped there was no way I’d be able to save them. Nothing short of turning everyone against Eos would save everyone here. Too many of them were deep-throating her boots to even start thinking about where I could even start without getting caught.

The helplessness hurt. I couldn’t save myself without hurting others. I couldn’t even try saving others without getting them hurt regardless. For the first time, I didn’t see any exits.

“I’ll do better tomorrow. I promise.”

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thewalkingfanfictions · 4 years ago

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I’m Not Gay -- Sam Winchester x Male!reader (part two)

I'm Not Gay — Sam Winchester x male!hunter!reader

Part One / Part Two

Description: Forced out of his motel room by his sister when she and a stranger burst through the door playing tongue wars, (Name) decides to go for walk, where he runs into Sam, tall, handsome, smart, and no, (Name) definitely doesn’t like guys, I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Warning: Some internalized homophobia, references to sex, and some cussing. Supernatural-themed gore and violence (they fight vampires)

Genre: Fluff, I guess? A bit of angst in there somewhere probably, too, since I have no self control. Can “dat gay shit” be a genre?

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Male!Reader

A/N: I hate this. So fucking much. I am, however, willing to write a part three with somma dat gay smut, if y’all want. I won't do it if no one says anything, though, so someone better comment. This is a threat.

Words without A/N: 2342

Masterlist

<—————————————>

The two of us crept through the old, neglected house. It was big, two stories with several rooms on each floor, and crawling with vamps.

Looking at Lidia over my shoulder, she motioned that she was going to go north, and waved me the other direction. Taking off as silently as I could, it wasn't long until I ran into the first group. How they hadn't noticed me yet, I guess we'll never know.

Creeping closer, I got within a few feet before the group of three tensed up and turned towards where I stood. Baring their teeth, two of them launched while the third took off through a doorway. Coward.

Dispatching them was easy enough, and I was quickly on to another room, leaving a stack of bodiless heads behind me. The next rooms were much of the same: alternating between empty bedrooms, to ones with two or three vamps chilling together, the job was simple enough. It wasn't until the very last room on my side of the building that I ran into trouble.

Seven, all together, and they already knew I was there. The one from the first room who had run when I showed up was standing beside them.

Fourteen bloodthirsty eyes glaring down at me, they slowly began surrounding where I stood. My heart beat in my ears, and I strengthened my hold on my machete, trying to form a plan. I should work on the big ones first, as they could pose a larger threat--but I should really save the bigger ones for after, so I can focus more of my energy on them--but at the same time, the smaller four could be more trouble than the big ones, they are more, and they are probably faster--or I could just focus on whoever came at me first--but what if they all launch at the same time? Am I really overthinking this right now?

Fuck it.

One of the smaller ones came forward to glare at me, sharp, disgusting teeth on display as she inched ever closer. As she got within reaching distance, she opened her mouth to say something--only to be cut off by my blade disconnecting her head from the rest of her. Her body fell to the floor like a...well, like a body, and all was silent for a moment, before the rest of them launched. Slicing and dodging and trying not to die was becoming increasingly more difficult as all six of the rest fought for a piece of me. I felt the side of my face light with a sting as one of them struck out and hit me, just before my blade cut through their flesh, hands grabbed me from behind, and I swung back as hard as I could, listening to the "shlingt" of the blade cutting through its neck. Before I could move to swing again, another body was grabbing me from behind and pulling me back, turing in their grip to swing again, my wrist was caught in their fist, making me look up at my opponents face.

Familiar, smokey-honey eyes surrounded by locks of fluffy brown hair graced my vision, and my breath caught in my throat at being so close to that perfect face.

"Sam?"

He pushed me behind him and went to work on a vamp that was right behind me, hacking its head off before turning to me with a bashful smile.

"Heh, uh, hey? Fancy seeing you here," a cheeky smile lit up his face as he turned back to the fight. My heart did an odd little "per-thump" as I gazed at his muscled body (now clad in a red and white flannel that did wonders for his shoulders (not that I would, uh, notice that.)) Shaking those very-not-me thoughts out of my head, I launched back into the fight beside him.

I knew there was something familiar about his room.

It wasn't long till we had dispatched all but one. The thing launched at Sam, who had at some point in the battle lost his own machete. He dodged gracefully around the vampires outstretched claws, and managed to get ahold of him from behind, holding the beasts arms behind its back and looking up at me. Well would you look at that. It was the same asshole who'd run away before and warned the others.

"(Name)!"

Wasting absolutely no time, I stepped forward and beheaded the thing, splattering blood onto Sam's face in the process. Good riddance.

Dropping the blood suckers body to the ground, Sam stepped over it, and walked towards me without so much as a second glance at the thing. A worried look came over his face as he moved closer, and his hand reached out to trace a thumb over the side of my face. Hissing, I couldn't help but flinch back at the sudden pain that erupted under his fingertips. My own hand flew to my face on reflex, coming away sticky with blood.

Apparently the thing that punched me earlier got me a bit more than I'd realized.

"You're hurt. We should get back and clean you up before you get infected, you might've gotten vamp blood in it."

His hand carefully traced over it again, this time taking care not to hurt me, and his eyes shone with his concern for me. It was kind of sweet, actually. We only met, like, less than twenty four hours ago.

"I knew there was something familiar about you," I mumbled, gazing up into his eyes, which silently questioned me in return. "Your room. The pre-packed bags, and the half-drank coffee next to the pile of papers and the laptop. It looked a painful lot like what my room usually looks like before a hunt," I smiled.

He grinned back at me, gaze dropping a bit lower than my eyes for a half a moment before darting back up. Licking his bottom lip, (an action I definitely didn't gawk at) he opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by someone loudly clearing their throat.

We both flinched away from each other, and it was only then that I realized just how close we had been standing, and that his hand had still been rested gently against the side of my bleeding face. Turning quickly towards the interruption, I locked eyes with my sister, who stood beside the larger figure of her bedmate from the night before, both smirking and gazing at us knowingly. I felt an ugly blush crawling its way towards my ears.

"Uh-uh-I-uhm-hey--hi-ah-uhm--" Sam stumbled from a few paces away from me, looking far more like a human-lobster hybrid than he had a moment before.

An ugly snort came out of my sister at that, and her smirk only grew as she looked between the two of us, looking like she was trying to refrain from saying something that I would most definitely punch her for. I wonder how hard it would be to dig a grave her height by myself.

"Shut up."

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

The ride back to the hotel was literal hell.

Lidia waited exactly six seconds (I counted) after we were both safely in the car and following the brothers' Impala down the road before she started interrogating me, that stupid smile still clinging to her face.

I've never wanted to punch her more.

I didn't know my face was capable of turning that red.

I was out of the car practically before it had even stopped rolling, and back in the hotel room before anybody else had even gotten out of their rigs. I could feel eyes on me the entire time, and hear my sisters uncontrolled laughter even through the closed car doors. I made sure I was already in the shower before she could get up to the room to bother me any more.

The water was nice, one of the best I'd had in a hotel, actually, and that is definitely the only reason I was in there for as long as I was. Yup. The only reason. It had nothing to do with avoiding my womb mate, and absolutely nothing to do with the thoughts going through my head about a certain 6-foot-something brunette.

After a good solid hour of wasting hot water, I finally decided it was probably time to get out. I'm sure Lidia wants to wash off too. Good luck with the few drops of hot water that I left you, punk. Drying off my hair and pulling on the baggy sweats and a tee-shirt that was way too big on me that I had thankfully remembered to grab from my bag before I rushed in here, I opened the door enough to peek out.

Of course, because it's only my luck, I got a nice side view of Dean with his tongue down my sisters throat.

Apparently they heard my exaggerated gagging sounds, because they split off and looked towards the bathroom door, eyes lust-drunk and lips red and swollen. Gross.

"Oh, don't act like you're not jealous, (nickname)," Lidia chided sassily, before rolling her eyes dramatically. "If you were in there any longer, we woulda started fucking, instead of being the polite person that I am and waiting for you to leave first."

I cringed at the thought of having to see that again, and flipped her off, before grabbing up a book and heading for the door as quickly as I could, listening to the two of them chuckling at me as I went.

“Loser.”

“Punk.”

"Your boyfriends waiting for you over in our room again, (name)!" I heard Dean say just before the two of them erupted into aggressive kissy noises, "(Name) and Sa'am, sitting in a tre--" the door slammed closed behind me.

Children. They are both complete children.

I found myself standing in front of the brothers door without even realizing I'd started walking yet, and I was knocking before I had the chance to try and compose myself. Fuck you, muscle memory.

The door opened before I'd even finished knocking, like Sam had just been sitting on the other side and waiting for someone to get there. His face flushed as we locked eyes, and I think he realized how it came across, too. I smiled at his cute ass dimples before my eyes dropped to take in the rest of him. Grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips (I'm not drooling, you are) and a plain white tee that had to be a good two sizes too small (holy mother of pecs). I probably stood there for a solid minute before realizing that it was really kinda weird for a totally heterosexual man to be staring like I was, and promptly looked away, clearing my throat and blushing stupidly once again.

His earthy chuckle was enough to break me out of my stupidity.

"Uh, so, uhm, uh--" I cleared my throat again, trying to reel my mind back into my body and refusing to look at him "Our siblings were dangerously close to fucking again and I really didn't wanna have to see that again, and I was kinda hoping I could hang out with you like last night but I totally get if you say no and I'lljustgofindsomewhereelsetogoI'msorryI'llleave--" I was half way through turning away when I felt him grab ahold of my arm, and pull me back towards him, his laugh cutting through the aggressive amount of self-loathing that was rushing through my system at the moment.

"Its okay, please don't go, Dean said to expect you over while he was there."

I paused for a second and stared at him, dumbfounded. He's a fucking angel.

Blushing stupidly, I nodded and followed behind him as he turned and swept his arm as an invitation to follow him inside. I stepped through the doorway, very aware that his hand still rested on my arm, and moved to sit on the bed when he pointed to it.

"Your face is still kinda busted up, I've got a first aid kit in here somewhere, let me help you," I was opening my mouth to protest when he turned and gave me a playful glare, like he already knew what I was going to say.

Soon enough, he was kneeling in front of me, one large hand resting on my shoulder while the other tilted my head to look at the cuts and the forming bruise. I couldn't look away from his kaleidoscope eyes.

Smearing some cold cream on my face (which I assumed was Neosporin, that's what it smelled like, anyway) I flinched slightly, which made him move both hands up to my head to hold me in place. Letting go for a split second, he reached for a bandage and moved back to cupping my face, and gently laid it over the split in my cheek. Being this close to him, smelling his freshly washed leather-and-old-book scent, I was practically drooling. It took far more restraint than it should have to not lean into the weirdly-soft hand that was cradling my cheek so gently.

Soon enough, he was done patching up my cheek, and looked up from his work. When our eyes connected, it was very much like the first time they had last night. I never wanted to look away. I don't exactly know when we started leaning in, but at some point we had. My eyes closed of their own accord, just a fraction of a second before his peachy lips were on mine. It was really just a peck, and far too soon he was pulling away from me, looking nervous. Before he had the chance to ruin the moment, or I had the chance to chicken out, I reached up and grabbed a handful of his shirt, and pulled him right back to me.

One of my hands found its way into his hair, the other still clinging to his shirt, terrified of him disappearing from my grasp. His hips found their way between my knees, where I still sat on the edge of the bed, pulling my body closer by the small of my back. By the time the both of us were too out of breath to continue, and he had to pull away, I was already far too lost to his hands.

Okay, so...Maybe I am a little bit gay.

fin

#Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x male reader #Sam Winchester crack fic #Supernatural #Dean Winchester #Male reader #this is literal trash #I'm Not Gay

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bradie-valentine · 3 years ago

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To Live in a House That is Haunted

By Bradie Valentine

The afternoon sun bakes me through the windshield as I drive towards Leah’s house. She hasn’t answered my texts in a couple of days. Not that unusual for her, even before this silence. And yet I’m still on my way to check on her. We’ve been basically inseparable since we bonded over our family troubles in grade three and this is the longest we haven’t seen each other since then. The quiet from her side of our friendship has gestated long enough.

When I pull up to her house, a wave of unease washes over me. The house looks almost the same as it usually does, but just slightly off. The grass is way too long and I can see a pile of mush near the mailbox, the storms of summer turning her mail into pulp. As I head towards the house, parting the long grass that tickles my legs, I notice the stack of oak she bought a few months ago. The wood is bloated and full of wet rot, another victim of the January showers.

Don’t get me wrong, Leah has always been quiet, reserved. But this is different. Besides the occasional ‘I’m still alive’ text, I’ve barely interacted with her in the past two months. I can’t exactly blame her though. I can understand why she hasn’t been feeling very social. Her husband, Brian, died two months ago; the death of Leah’s voice immediately following.

I was with her that day, the day cops turned up to deliver the news. We were in the lounge room, chatting about Leah’s upcoming carpentry projects when there was a knock at the door. Leah answered it, there was some muffled chatter and then a sorrowful screech, like an animal caught in a trap. I leapt up from the couch just in time to see Leah collapse in on herself. The strong statue of the woman I knew, reduced to a pile of discarded tissues; delicate and tear soaked.

It was a freak accident that killed her Brian. A bump on the head at work. Rushed to the hospital, and he was dead on arrival. We found out later that the knock had popped a massive aneurysm that was nesting between the folds of his brain.

I take a deep breath and rap on the door a couple times but Leah doesn’t answer. I pause for a few seconds, knock, pause again, and knock again. I pull out my phone and text her, a drop of sweat trickles down the back of my neck. The heat and worry working together to slick my skin. I try calling too, but the phone rings out. Usually I wouldn’t bother worrying over Leah, but since Brian, grief has metamorphosed her, leeching both her light and strength. I think I should go, maybe come back later, but then I notice the sound of music. Leonard Cohen’s deep voice emanates from within the house. I try the handle and it’s unlocked, as soon as I open the door I get hit with the foulest stench of my life, even worse than when I used to get paid to wash down animal cages at the local vet. The stench clogs my nostrils and makes my mouth water with pre-vomit saliva.

I call out to Leah and get no response in return. Covering my nose, I start down the hallway, passing picture frames filled with photos of the happy couple. I call out again and I still don’t get a reply. Oh god, I should have come sooner. As I approach the bedroom, I hear a buzzing. I can’t place it for a second, and then I realise, it’s flies, a swarm of flies.

It’s all making sense, her favourite album playing, their wedding anniversary is coming up. The stench of sickly sweet death crowding the hallway. Leah has killed herself and now a horde insects are busy getting comfortable in the rancid warmth of her lifeless corpse.

I brace myself, a few steps and I’ll be able to see the bedroom, the carnage Leah has made of herself. And then I hear a laugh, Leah's laugh. The fear mixes with confusion and I’m so disorientated, I stumble the last couple steps forward and then I see them.

Leah is lying on the bed, holding Brian’s hand. It takes me a second to realise that the swollen form on the bed is indeed Brian. The flies have made their home here a while ago. There is a split in Brian’s belly where the gasses of rot have burst him open. Maggots spill off Brian and wiggle across Leah, like they can’t even tell anymore where the death ends and the living begins.

I turn away and run for the kitchen. My stomach is roiling and lurching. I only make it halfway and end up vomiting on the floor. Bile and this morning's toast exploding from my mouth.

“Hi”

I look at Leah. She’s knobbly and bony where she used to be muscular. There’s a stain down the left side of her night gown. It’s yellowy thickness let’s me know it’s broken down fat that has leached out of Brian and onto her. As if he was trying to offer back some of the bulk that weeks in bed have taken from her.

I’m still gagging when she starts talking.

“I dug him up, after the funeral. I brought a shovel with me.”

“Why?”

“I was getting ready for the funeral and all I could think about is how he would be so lonely in the ground. You know how much he hated being without me.”

“Leah, this is fucking crazy, you know that right? I love you but holy shit. You need help Leah… you need serious help.”

She just turns away and walks back to the bedroom.

“Leah, stop! I’m serious.”

She doesn’t listen to me. I follow her down the hallway and watch her climb into bed next to the mass of degrading flesh in a burial suit.

The liquid of his body has seeped into the mattress and the carpet beneath their bed. No one is ever going to be able to scrub him from the carpet or the floor below. An oily stain has spread up the wall above him, a halo made from his desecration. Brian now has a permanence he never had before. I wonder for a second what will happen to this house after they’re gone. Who would even want it now?

“Go away,” She says.

“Leah please”

She stays silent, just staring at Brian’s empty face.

“This is beyond fucked up, I’m getting you out of here. If… if you don’t come with me, I’ll call the police. They’ll be able to drag you out”

There is another long pause, and I almost think she has forgotten I’m here. She’s so clearly out of it.

“Please… please just let me say goodbye” She finally replies, “I need to say goodbye. I didn’t get to say it last time, please“

She leans in close to the bloat and starts whispering. I feel like I’m watching something I shouldn’t. I head for the front door, for fresh air. As I’m walking through the house, I realise all of the pictures on the wall that used to be of parents and cousins and nieces have been replaced.

They’re all of Leah with Brian’s body. All taken in the house. In one, Brian is propped up on the couch. Leah is sitting straight, like she’s posing for a portrait. The self timer on her phone capturing a record of her depravity. The photos all vary in poses and states of decomposition. The latest one I find is of them in bed. Brian already shiny and slick, his body bloated and gnarled. Leah has an arm around him and her head on his chest.

The front door is calling to me, fresh air and a reprieve from the incessant vibration of insect life. I reach for the handle when I notice the frame right by the door. The photo is of Leah, Brian and I at their wedding. It was Leah's favourite of the night, the three of us caught in laughter together. I sigh and head for the lounge room instead, climb the couch and slide open the window, pressing my face to the fly screen, breathing deeply the outside air.

The light tap, tap, tap of Leah’s steps announce her presence in the hallway.

“It’s okay now,” she says, “I got to say goodbye. We can put him back and no one has to know. You don’t have to call the police or anything.”

“Leah, you dug up his body, I can’t just pretend like that didn't happen.”

“Please! If anyone finds out, they’ll put me away. I don’t want to be alone. I lost Brian, I can’t lose everyone else as well.”

She’s just standing there in her yellowed nightgown, hands wringing each other. Leah looks so young, so helpless, like she’s in third grade again. Actually, she reminds me more of myself when I was in third grade. Unsure, broken, needing someone to look after me. Leah was the one who took care of me then, she was my person. Now I have to be that for her.

“Alright,” I say, getting up from the couch, “you get the gloves and aprons, I’ll get the rope.”

Standing in the bedroom, decked out in aprons, gloves, and face masks, we stare at the pile of flesh on top of the mattress. Assessing the best course of action, I really stare at Brian. Once a man, a great man at that, he is now somewhere between human and object. Tender and fragile, a bag of rot. Meat, past its use by date. A spoiled egg, one sharp prod and he’ll pop like a runny yolk. We have to be gentle.

Next to the bed, we lay the blue tarp I grabbed from the shed across the floor. Leah climbs up beside Brian, the movement jostles him, shaking the fluid filling his skin, wobbling like an oversized hot water bottle. Bracing myself over the tarp we grab his arms and pull him towards the ground, our fingers sink into his raw sausage meat arms. He slips from our hands a couple inches from the floor, with a wet slap he hits the ground. We rear back, and Leah spews a startled cry. The gash in Brian’s stomach yawns wider and a rush of melted organs spill from his open body; a thick grotesque puff of odour erupting with it. Following closely behind, a swarm of flies and maggots escape his bodily cavity, startled from their reverie.

Shocked still for a moment, we spring to life and scramble out of the room and slam the door shut. Leah slides to the floor, moaning and crying.

“What do we do now?” She asks me.

Dropping to the floor, I gather her gently into my lap. Trying not to think about bits of Brian swill getting all over me, I pat her matted hair.

“We take care of you now, the way you took care of Brian, the way you’ve taken care of me. Whatever that means.”

“Okay,” she says, “okay.”

Once Leah is soundly asleep, I dial triple zero. The operator seems a bit surprised by the situation I describe.

“My friend dug up her husband’s dead body and had been living with it for two months, can you send an ambulance over?”

“Uh, yeah. Right away.”

Once again, Leah and I are startled by a knock at her front door. I’m the one who answers it this time. Leah stands at the end of the hallway, she must look frightening to these strangers. Gaunt and covered in sludge, sticky with the putrid stench of the death that was stewing in that once pristine bedroom. They’re gentle with her, she goes with them willingly. We finally get outside, the freshness of the crisp air disorientating. Leah stops and turns to me.

“I’m sorry for bringing you into this,” she says.

“Anytime,” I say.

We both laugh a little bit.

“Leah?”

“Yes?”

“You’ll be okay. Eventually, things will be better.”

“I know,” She says, “will you be okay, without me around?”

I think it’s a joke. Her, also trying to lighten the mood. I answer her seriously anyway.

“Yes, Leah. I think I will.”

#shortstories #shortstory #bradievalentine #originalwork #originalstory #writer #author

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Legend of the Three Caballeros: Labyrinth and Repeat Review (Commissioned by WeirdKev27)

Saludos Amigos! We’re back on the Ride of the Three Cablleros as I intend to knock this wonderful series out at a steady cliip, and since I THOUGHT the premire was a two parter, it still ends on a cliffhanger but it’s too early to tell if this is just normal for this series like say Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, where it’s really more one continuous story, or just the end of the pilot. For now with all the exposition out of the way from part 1, we can jump right into the thick of things where we picked off. PREVIOUSLY ON LEGEND OF THE THREE CABLLEROS: Donald had an enormously shitty birthday, loosing his job, his house and his nightmarish harpy.. er his girlfriend, all in one day. Things went up a bit though when he inhereted a Cabana belonging to his ancestor Clinton Coot and met two new pals: Ladies Man Jose Caricoca and loveable weirdo like myself Pancito Romero A Lot of Other Names Gonzales. The three soon had a yard sale with the various treasures inside the cabana and got an offer for a million dollars for the cabana and all inside from local waiter’s nightmare Baron Von Sheldgoose, whose deal includes a jewel incrusted golden atlas. Upon finding it our boys were attacked by a human goddess who popped out of the book and that’s where we pick up.

Good. Let’s begin. So Xandra, said goddess, is holding our heroes at arrow point with their attempts to defuse the situation falling flat and their attempt to understandably flee by claming to be the cabs failing pretty much immidatley. We do get some good gags including Jose accidently telling Xandra she smells like feta cheese in greek. But lucky for our boys before Xandra can do a murder on them Donald accidently shuts the book.. and finds out she disappears when he does that. Cue our loveable idiots opening and closing the book for a while, easily one of the best bits of the episode. I will say while the pilot was pretty good comedy wise this episode solidfies how funy the series is. The series is at times a barrage of wonderful jokes and set pieces and it is awesome to behold. Also a breif thing before we get back to the plot... Xandra is indeed human, or at least looks like one. Normally i’m against this as honestly Ducks just mesh better with Dogfaces, other birds and other anthromorphic animals. It just works better and is more consitent to have a world that’s simply anthro animals and non-anthro animals. But.. it works for me here since so the human characters.. are all gods. While i’d of PREFFERED them to still be non humans, like Ducktales does, it works since she’s not really a human but a god and thus it comes off more as her being something inherently diffrent and otherworldly, but something that’s not so distracting it pulls focus away from the rest of the cast, just otherworldly to our heroes.

So while our boy screw with the goddess who you know, tried to murder them for flimsy reasons without stopping to ask why three strangers look exactly like her friends, we get to know the triplets better. I also get a better bead on what voices Jessica is using. May is using Jessica’s Lynn voice, just a touch higher since May isn’t a preteen, while April, the one in yellow, uses the voice she’d later use for candace. Junes is a BIT like Lucy, but with obviously way more energy and emotion. But it’s clear the three are smart confident and willing to run a scheme, and easily get a thousand bucks out of sheldgoose for the spooky purple ring he saw last episode in a really chortleriffic bit where May serves as an auctioneer while her sisters up the price by bidding thus tricking Sheldgoose into paying. They also get past him having a claim on it as he dosen’t have a receipt or anything else other than a verbal contract with Donald, one that wasn’t even complete since the boys hadn’t brought out the atlas, so they were within their rights to fleece him for the ring.. even if him getting it at all is going to backfire, they had no way of knowing that so it’s whatever. Back in the house the boys have apparently done the book thing on Xandra about a hundred times, and Xandra FINALLY grabs the book. At least our boys are bonding. But while threatening them again , she finds out they don’t know what happened.. and recongiing clinton int he painting realizess time has passed, these boys are her boys decendants, and perhaps some explination is in order since she’s lost in a strange world.

So after unveling a bookmark that allows her to project out of the book without being trapped, Xandra gives us our backstory: long ago, in a distant land I Aku master of darkness unleashed an unspeakable evil... wait sorry wrong narration. Long ago Xandra was guardian of the Atlas, which is explained to be the key to various magical hot spots around the world where various myths come from. Things were fine.. until the evil Lord Felldrake decided to screw it all up, binding Xandra to the book and using it to cause chaos and try and take over the world. All was lost till the Cabs stopped him, freed Xandra best they could, and then journed the world with them till she tragically was shut inside the book and seemingly lost. For whatever reason Clinton never opened the book, we’ll presumibly find out later, and well.. here she is. Xandra is voiced by, unsuprisingly given this project’s all-star cast, voice acting vetran and modern legend of the buisness Grey DeLisle, also credited as Grey Griffith for a time. And like tress she has a rather massive and awesome resume, which naturally i’ll be going into since usually I go into shows mid way and don’t get to do this: Grey’s notable rolls include Daphne Blake ever since What’s New, Scooby Doo?, Lor from Weekenders, still not on plus and I will not let that fact go till I get a valid reason why not, Crazy Cat Lady and Lizzie Divine, Mandy, Doctor Ghastly, Kimiko Tohomiko, Sam Manson, Frankie Foster, Azula, Riley Daring, Freida Suarez, Black Canary (Brave and the Bold), Fire, Dr. Holiday, Aya, Master Nadia, Magpie, Moon Butterfly, Jackie Lynn Thomas, Lola Loud, Lana Loud, Lily Loud, and Martin Prince following Russi Taylors tragic passing, just to give you an idea of how long, varied and wonderful her career and range is. And to give a certain person paying for this review an idea of some of the shows i’m familiar with. Moving on. Despite learning of their family legacy of heroics, our heroes are planning to still sell the book given Donald and Jose are poor, and Panchito’s giving in to peer pressure. Seriously Camil is already the MVP of the series, easily the best part of it and it’s a shame he wasn’t brought back for Ducktales, especially since by season 2 frank was aware of legend and Jamie had been on the show before. But Xandra offers them a life of adventure and heroisim.. and when that fails points out theirs treasure and the boys agree to hear her out. So after showing some off Xandra takes them to a Labyrinth to retreive three mystic amulets, and goads Donald into going in by challenging his Ego after he tries to refuse to go. Panchito is naturally fully on board with a dangerous adventure and Jose is talked into it after Xandra pulls an explination why she can’t go out of her firmly toned ass that theirs a mystic barrier which he buys. So while Xandra conjurs a chair and a coconut drink to relax and wait to see if they die or not, our boys head in. They find a massive, beautiful labyrnith and a large house containing a minotaur. Sadly i’ts not Ferdinand aka the Minotaur who worked as Wonder Woman’s chef, cooking up damn good vegetarian goodies for her at the Thymsicarian Embasy. All of this is real things that happened and all are things that should be in the next fucking movie. Seriously as much of a mess as Wonder Woman 1984 is, i’d buy a ticket in a heartbeat caution to teh wind if it was announced he was being adapted for it. He’s also very smart, kind and loyal if you were wondering. Get yourself a man like feridnand if your into men.

Anyways Jose once again tries to speak a languge, and thus we get about a minute of Eric Bauza saying the word moo... sometimes... most times really.. I REALLY, REALLY love my job. But with the bull pissed off and going super sayian god super sayian, there’s only one thing left for our heroes to do...

So they do and we get a great gag where Donald, when deciding wether to split up as to lower the possiblity of him getting hit, has TWO shoulder devils, because inside every man is a battle between good and evil that evil usually wins while dancing and singing a jaunty toon over good’s grave.

But it naturally backfires and the two devils tell him he’s on his own. So we get a fun chase sequence with the three before Donald finally decides fuck it we can fight back. Noticing Panchito’s talent with a rope, he has him rope and ride the Minotaur which he does, then uses Jose’s hankerchief to lure the minotaur and beat him. It’s a gorgeous, fun action sequence that shows off the series is as cool as it is fricking hilaroius. So our heroes find the amulets, a blue one for donald, a red for panchito and green for jose, and put em on, proudly telling Xandra. It’s then revealed the Minotaur.. is an old friend of hers and this was just a test to see if they could work together and you know.. not die. They can, and she’s proud and plesantly suprised by how good they are. So our heroes return home, Xandra storring the atlas on her back, and all three suitably impressed. Their further impressed when they find a hidden lair with more treasure, and three sets of armor, their ancestors old armor which as it did in the teaser at the start of the series, looks REALLY fucking cool and comes from various civlizations. Just.. lovely to look at. Our heroes pose.. and the nieces find them, wonder what’s going on, and mention Sheldgoose at the door, apparnelty not phased to meet a god or that their surrogate uncle has a hlemet. Sheldgoose has come to offer the money.. and it’s REALLY tempiting. Donald has lost EVERYTHING remember, this money could help win Daisy back, get him a fancy house still in new quackmore.. even a third of a million is still enough to set someone as humble and easy to please as donald for life. But.. it’s here where this episode succeds where the premire fell. By this point we’ve SEEN Donald’s weaknsses: he’s greedy, short sighted and selfish. So it makes it THAT MUCH more impactful when he does the right thing, tearing up the check and refusing to sell out his legacy. Sure this could make his life better.. but it’s not worth his soul, his new friends or the world’s safety. He may not be able to get Daisy back or a new house.. but he’d NEVER be able to repalce his new friends, his legacy, or his wonderful new home. Sheldgoose naturally throws a fit and vows vengance and what have you... and just as naturally gets dragged away by his ring. Like the boys he’s brought to a mystic secret chamber by a family heirloom.. but unlike the boys we get a wonderful sequence of him being slammed into things while Wayne Knight makes delightful noises.

But Sheldgoose finds thanks to the ring he was drawn to a styigan well leading to a talking staff... Felldrake surivived, if trapped in the staff.. and he’s Baron’s ancestor, himself a sheldgoose who urges his decsendant to take the staff, accept his destiny and thus Sheldgoose revels in his new power as he and feldrake summon Feldrake’s loyal minon.

So we end on Donald happy. His day was crappy to start.. but while he lost his house, his shrew and his job.. he’s found a new purpose saving the world, an ew life of adventure.. and forever friends in his two new amigos and goddess mentor. He’s finally happy. OR he is for a a second before Feldrake’s minon emerges from it’s sarcophagus and runs off with donald. TO BE CONTINUED. Not doing the jojo gag this time.

Before we go on one last cast member; Kevin Micheal Richardson is Felldrake, and he is unsuprisingly awesome and like Grey has a long and storied career.. you know the drill by now: He’s voiced the Narrator for Clerks the Animated Series, Robert Hawkins (Static’s Dad), Dark Laser, Numbah 5′s dad who was a VERY poorly aged refrence to Bill Cosby, Mammoth, Trigon, Armagedddroid (Something I never realized holy shit good on him), Captain Gantu, The Joker, Pandabubba, Principal Lewis, Schnitzel, Tombstone, Omega Supreme, Cleavland Junior (They drove a dump truck full of money up to his house he’s not made of stone), Mal Duncan, Doctor Fate, Man Ape, Kilowogg, Sheriff Blubs, William Viceroy , Mr. Gus, Rhombulous, Shredder (TMNT 2012), Rosie Rosevelt, Coach Mitchell (Seriously watch Milo Murphy’s Law, we need a season 3), and Dot’s Zit. As you can tell the guy is VERY good at villians so he was a natural choice.

Final Thoughts: This was a huge improvment. With the miserable parts of the pilot long gone this episode is a fun, breezy adventure that sets up our heroes, the series tone, and our bad guy some more while giving us tons of great gags. I highly look forward to whatever comes next and cannot wait for the next episode. Until then, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

#the legend of the three caballeros #the three caballeros #grey delisle #kevin micheal richardson #donald duck #panchito romero miguel junipero francisco quintero gonzalez #Jose Carioca #panchito pistoles #april duck #may duck #june duck #baron von sheldgoose #lord feldrake #xandra

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