#god knows I read enough smut this shouldn't be hard

[imwritingthefout]

after session hangout

basically you fall in love with the dm of your campaign in college: Ford pines, smut ensues

This is crossposted to ao3 so if you wanna go read it there, here’s the link:

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Waking up each day to the same old ceiling was starting to bore you. 

Ever since moving out of your parents house for college you felt like a stranger in the dorm you now called ‘home’, and It didn't help that you refused to decorate it. 

Getting out of your plain old bed, you stand up and push away the blinds with a tug, the light from the early morning sun blinding you temporarily. You glance down at your clock; 6:30am, thursday. The time isn't the part that excites you though, it's the day. Today is the day you look forward to all week: Dd&md day! 

You go to get ready for your morning class, excited for what the future of today may hold. You love dd&md, its been your favourite game since you were a child -even though you had no one to play it with back then, you got creative (no goat was harmed in your past attempts at playing the game).

Your classes went by in a blur. Of course you were taking notes and whatnot, it was important to pay attention! But in secret, you were drawing your character all over the side of your notebook and thinking of strategies on how to defeat the next dungeon your dm set up for you.

And then there was your dm. 

One of the many reasons you adored thursdays was because you got to play dd&md of course, but other than that there was another big reason you liked thursdays.

To put it plainly: your dm, Stanford Pines was Hot. like, capital H Hot. you couldn't get over his warm brown eyes that sparkled with passion whenever he detailed the characters he was playing. His hands that moved with his every word, adding to the description of the imaginary world he was building. God you wanted to feel those hands on you. What would they feel like, intertwined with your own, on your hips while he-

You decided to stop that train of thought. As much as you liked him, you also respected him enough to know that he would probably never feel that way towards you, and you shouldn't fantasise about him like that (even though it was hard not to).

And though he was Hot, that wasn't the only reason you liked him. You liked him because he was smart, compassionate, funny and so very cute.

What can you say? You had a thing for nerds.

As your last class of the day finished finished up, you quickly packed up your things and rushed to the old building next to the dorms that housed your favourite room in the whole campus: the old meeting room you guys used to house your dd&md sessions! 

The room wasn't glorious, it was just an old meeting room that's been out of use for years. But to you, that room was the home of your imagination. It held a special place in your heart, and you were sure it was the same for the rest of your party.

Speaking of which, you saw Fiddleford approach you down the old hallway, little puffs of dust kicking up with each of his steps. “Hey Fidds! You ready for today’s session?” you yelled to him slightly as he approached. “Ready as I'll ever be! You won't believe what I have planned in order to kick that sorcerer's butt!” he gave your shoulder a weak punch and opened the door with his key.

Usually, the old building was out of commission. But since Fiddleford knew a guy who works as campus security and convinced him to give him the key, you had full access to the building to do whatever you pleased. Of course for you, anything just means playing dd&md, not causing a mess and cleaning up after yourselves as much as possible in order to not inconvenience anyone. You knew that other people your age would throw huge parties and wreck the place, but you weren't that kind of person, really. You just liked having a quiet place to play your games and hang out with your friends. Fiddleford was like that too, that's how he got the key in the first place; because his friend trusted him not to mess up the place.

As you walked inside, you saw the table set out just how you guys left it last week: the long rectangular table set up in the middle of the room, with seven chairs set out all around the table, one for each player and one for your dm. A whiteboard behind the dm’s seat that shows the map of the fantasy world you are currently in the middle of exploring, and cork board on another wall with a bunch of graph paper pinned to it.

You walk around the table, taking your regular seat across from Fiddleford. “So what do you think Ford's planning for this session?” you ask Fidds. This is your usual routine: get to the building early, wait for Fidds and ask him if he has any intel for the session since his roommate is Ford. “like usual, i can’t tell you, it'll ruin the fun!” Fidds exclaimed, although the grin on his face told you he likes this familiar back and forth. 

You eased into a casual conversation from there, talking about your days as you waited for everyone else. You liked coming early because then you had more time to talk with Fidds and, of course, with Ford.

You met Fidds on the first day of the semester, when you sat next to each other in the freshman orientation presentation, and hit it off from there. you became friends rather quickly, bonding over the fact that you were both far away from home with no friends in town. You decided to help him move into his dorm after the presentation, and that's when you met Ford.

At first, you were a bit speechless at the guy in front of you. His outfit was the usual scholar's outfit of a white button up shirt with a brown vest on top, but then he was wearing jeans in order to look more ‘casual’ as he put it. His hair was neat and tidy and his glasses framed his face perfectly, at least in your opinion. You introduced yourself awkwardly, and once he introduced himself as Stanford Pines, a parapsychology major with aspirations for 12 phd’s in the next five years, you knew you were in over your head. You can't have a crush on a super-genius! What if he turns out to be an arrogant asshole? But you couldn't help developing feelings for him as you got closer. He wasn't just a super-genius, he was also kind and compassionate, understanding and just a good friend. That's when you decided to just stay friends with Ford, you couldn't afford to lose such a good friend.

Speaking of which, the man himself comes into the room, holding a stack of books detailing the rules and monsters of dd&md, a satin sack full of dice and his dm screen. You can barely see his face behind all of the things he's carrying, and immediately you jump up to help him carry everything. He silently thanks you for the help and starts setting his stuff up while you go back to your seat. “Hey guys, how've you been since last week?” Ford asks you two. “Oh i've been well, you know. Dealing with you every day can be challenging but I manage somehow” Fidds says dramatically and you stifle a giggle. Ford gives Fidds a death glare before turning to you “and how are you?” he asks with a smile that makes your knees weak. “I'm good!” you proclaim a little too loudly and cough to hide your blush “yes i'm good, just the usual classes and such” you say in a normal voice (or at least what you hope is a normal voice, it doesn't help that Fidds looks at you cheekily, already knowing your secret crush on his roomate) “how have you been?” you ask him. 

“Just the usual: doing homework, studying and building up today’s session” you catch on to the last part as a potential way to continue the conversation. “Well, what do you have planned for today?”. “Oh come on now, it wouldn't be fun to just spoil the game for you, would it?” he says and points to you to emphasise his point. “You can't even give us an outline? Something?” you pout a little and Ford gives in “fine… I may have something up my sleeve for today, and I can guarantee you won't see it coming this time! That's all I'm going to say for now though” he jabs his finger at you, trying to seem angry that you caught onto his plans last time, but his little smile gives him away. 

Soon your other party members start filing in and you all start the session. 

It goes as usual, you all mess around for a bit before getting serious. You can confidently say you saw the twist Ford put in this session coming, it was obvious how the wizard was actually a party member’s son, they had so many similarities! After another successful session, everyone leaves for their respective houses, leaving you, Fidds and Ford alone in the room to clean up.

“I can't believe you saw that coming again! I swear you're like a sorcerer in real life” Ford chuckles and Fidds adds “that would also explain how you get here before me every time! I swear I ran to get here today and you still beat me here!” “well what can i say guys? I'm just magical in every way!” you strike a silly but confident pose as Ford and Fidds laugh at your antics. “Oh shoot! I promised my friend i’d go on a blind date today, could you guys lock up this time? Ford you can just give me the keys tomorrow morning if i get lucky” Fidds winks and Ford rolls his eyes “alright, we get it, you can go”. Fidds leaves the keys on the desk and almost sprints out of the room.

You and Ford clean up the mess on the desk in silence before Ford decides to break it “how do you keep predicting my twists anyways? I swear it was supposed to come out of nowhere but you're too smart” you blush a little at the compliment “thank you, i guess i’m just good at guessing twists. But you do make it kind of easy. I mean, a secret relative of someone close? It’s kind of a cliche don't you think?” he pulls at the collar of his button up shirt and you can immediately tell something is wrong.

“Yeah.. I guess it is kind of cliche, but it's what fits the character, don't you think?” he says with a guilty tone. “Ford, what's wrong? I feel like you're hiding something” you get close enough to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder “you can tell me anything, i wont judge” you add, trying to coax him into telling you what's wrong.

“Well… I guess I brought the secret relative from my own life because… well… I have a twin brother….” the sentence doesn’t completely shock you, but it is still somewhat of a surprise “why do you never mention him? Did something happen between you two?” he chuckles a bit before saying “still as perceptive as ever, huh?” you blush a bit as he continues, looking out into the middle distance in thought

“Me and my brother were really close when we were young, we would do everything together. But as time went on, we grew apart. He didn't like the fact that I wanted to go away to a fancy college, especially because he knew he couldn't follow me there. I was working on a machine to impress the college, but on the day of the showing it stopped working. My own brother sabotaged my future. We had a big falling out over it and that’s why I'm here instead….” you empathised with Ford, but you couldn't help but question some things about his story.

“I know it must have been hard to deal with the fact you lost your ticket to the college of your dreams, but do you really believe your brother would sabotage you? If he loves you, wouldn't he want to support you? Maybe it was an accident and he didn't mean to destroy your project?” Ford looks lost in thought again before replying “i… it's foolish but i never thought of it that way…” he looks at you with thankfulness in his eyes and you can't help but smile up at him “you should maybe sort this out with him? Talk to him about what actually happened and if he meant to hurt you?” 

“God you're right… Thank you! This changes everything! I'm so glad I could just kiss you!” 

….

It takes him a second to realise what he said and blush at the thought of actually kissing you. You just stare at him dumbly for a second until your brain processes what he said.

He wants to kiss you?

Well this took a turn for the better.

“Do you really mean that?” you ask him with hope in your eyes

“Well… yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t i? Look at you” he finds that it's suddenly very important you understand how much he wants to kiss you. “Wow… i- i didn't know you felt the same…” you say softly and look down. He says your name and puts his hand on your cheek and lifts up your face to meet his eyes “i like you. More than as a friend. Would you… let me kiss you?” he looks at you nervously for a moment before you close the gap between you two and kiss him yourself.

The kiss feels electrifying. As your soft lips meet his you put your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You realise he smells exactly how you thought he would; of old books and aftershave. His hands find your waist and rub gentle circles with his thumbs into your skin. You pull away after a little and touch your forehead with his “you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that” you whisper gently.

“Me too” and he goes back to kissing you, this time he takes the lead. You tighten yourself around him until your chests meet, his hands move down to your hips and he pulls you onto his lap in one swoop. You gently bite his lip as he groans into your open lips. He then moves down to kiss from your jaw to your neck, leaving the occasional love bite. You sigh at his bites until he gets to your collarbones. “Do you…. Want to do this?” he breathes the question against your skin, the feeling of him against you makes you shudder. “Yes. im sure”. He straightens up from excitement and goes back to kissing you collarbone, now more eager than ever as his hands travel past the hem of your shirt and up to your bra. Meanwhile your hands go down to feel him underneath you.

“Someone is excited” you smirk as he breaths heavily against you. 

“Very” his response falls heavy against you as he unclasps your bra (with only a little bit of a struggle) and his hands move to massage your breasts. You moan as he pinches your nipples in between his fingers. You lower your head to bite at his shoulder to stifle another moan from falling out of your lips- “No” he says and moves his shoulder to get you to stop muffling your sounds. “I want to hear you”. The thought of him wanting to hear you like this makes you blush and sends a bolt of pleasure down your spine. “Y-yes’’ 

You intend to start massaging him through his pants but he beats you to it, moving his hand down into your pants. You help him take off your pants and underwear (with a lot of struggle because of your position) and he suddenly picks you up and places you on the table. The cold desk underneath you only adds to the pleasure as he caresses your side before moving his hand down to finally touch you. 

His hand caresses your folds and feels how wet you are, and you moan from the feeling of his thick fingers on your sensitive skin. “Damn, you feel so good” he whimpers at how you feel before kissing your breasts and plunging his index finger inside you. “A-ah~” you sigh as he moves his hand so his thumb is circling your clit. 

He continues pumping his finger inside of you for a second before adding a second one and speeding up the pace. If he continues like this you wont last long. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, he stops and goes down onto his knees, his face in front of your core. “Can I please taste you?” he asks innocently, as if his request isn't the most dirty thing you've heard him say. Thinking about it makes you even more aroused -if that's even possible at this point- and you hastily agree.

Not even a second after he sees you nod does he jump into your pussy, his tongue plunging into you and licking you from the inside. His nose bumps into your clit as he moves to taste and lick you even more. Your breath hitches and you moan loudly as he begins sucking at your clit, toying and teasing it with his tongue. “Please F-Ford” you manage to say in between moans. He groans against you and the vibrations send a wave of pleasure through you.

He suddenly brings his fingers back into you, curling them just right, hitting that spongy spot inside you that sends you over the edge. 

You briefly hear him let out a broken “Fu-uck” as your orgasm ripples through you in waves. Ford helps you ride out your high as he continues fingering you and licking at your clit. You have to push him off of you as it becomes too overstimulating

You try to pull him up to his knees, but he seems embarrassed by something. He looks up at you with his chin and nose glistening from your wetness, a guilty smile on his lips and his glasses fogged up and crooked. You then look down and notice it. A wet spot against his jeans

oh.

He got off on pleasuring you. He turned into a mess from just tasting you, feeling you on his lips and fingers. “That's the hottest thing i've ever seen” you say suddenly and lean down to kiss him passionately. He pulls away “really? You think so?” he looks at you in shock. “Yes! Now let me kiss you” you bring him up and kiss him passionately. He takes the hint, grabs at your hips and grunts. You can feel him already hardening again so you pull at his belt and pull down his pants and underwear. You softly grab him and start moving your hand up and down as he whimpers against your lips. You bring up your hand and spit onto it in order to create less friction when touching him.

“Please Ford- fuck me” you moan into his ear and he leans his head back in pleasure. “But i don't have-” you cut him off “there's some condoms in the front pocket of my bag, please” you emphasise your point by giving his cock another stroke. This seems to fuel him on to run to your bag and get the condom. He opens the packet and rolls it onto his member. He rubs his cock against your folds to collect your juices and as his head rubs against your oversensitive clit you moan. “Please put it inside” you hold onto his shoulders as he follows your request and pushes his tip in slowly.

He slowly pushes himself inside you until he's bottomed out inside you and you both groan. You move your hips experimentally and he whimpers at the feeling of you around him. He slowly starts to pull out and then thrusts back in with a moan of your name. You dig your fingers into the soft skin of his shoulders as he continues thrusting inside of you slowly. 

He continues gently until you decide to whisper in his ear something that changes his attitude completely “harder- please~”. He understands the message and suddenly picks you up and flips you around -while still inside of you- and bends you over the table. You moan at the sudden change of positions but you have no time to get used to it as he starts thrusting into you at a killer pace. He moves his hips sharply into you, with an almost mechanical pace as he pushes your chest onto the table with his broad torso. You can't help the sounds you let out each time he hits that deep spot inside of you. He grunts into your ear at each thrust and it makes your eyes water from all the pleasure.

You're suddenly pushed over the edge for the second time when he wraps his hand around your body and starts playing with you clit. You scream his name as you cum around his cock. His pace stutters a bit and he curses in your ear as he cums too for the second time.

He slowly eases you both down with some gentler thrusts and then exits out of you with a sensual pop. 

You lay down for a little while with your ass out before you gather some strength to get up. As soon as you do, your legs start to shake and Ford catches you in his arms and chuckles a bit with pride. “So…. did you like that?”  

You dead-pan him and say “no. i didn't like that. Of course I liked that you doofus!” he laughs a bit and kisses you again. “I just wanted to make sure!” he says against your lips. You giggle and pull him even closer “well, i enjoyed that a lot” you give him a small peck on the nose and then pull away to put your clothes back on. He disposes of the condom and goes to put on his pants but pauses. “I can't go out with a wet spot on my pants…. What should I do?” he looks terrified at the thought of walking around campus like that.

“Don't worry, i always carry an extra sweatshirt around in case the ac is too much in class” you laugh as he looks at you like you just saved his life “you are an angel!” he comes up to you and kisses you again before going back to putting on his pants. You hand him the sweatshirt and he ties it around his waist in order to hide the evidence of what happened.

He then comes up to you and hugs you. “You know i meant what i said, right? About liking you” you blush and then respond “i meant what i said too”

“Then can this not be a one time thing? I want to -if you’d want of course, there's no pressure if you don't want to do anything more than what happened today but-” you cut him off to spare him from rambling even more “i’d like to go on a date with you, Ford. i want to go out with you and be with you” he sighs with relief. “Great! Are you free tomorrow?” you check your calendar “yeah i should be- do you want to meet up?” 

“I would love that” he kisses your forehead before picking up your bag and the keys to the room.

You go out but as Ford locks the door, he realises something.

“Why do you have condoms in your bag?”

You immediately flush a deep red as you remember the fact that after first meeting him, your horney brain convinced you to put some condoms in your bag. ‘Just in case something happens’ you thought to yourself

“No reason” you yelp out and pull at his bicep so he continues walking and change the subject.

He chuckles at your antics but goes along with you.

He’ll just have to ask another time.

[seventeenpins]

new rules

pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅

You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.

DO NOT PICK UP

You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.

And then it lights up again.

Just ignore it. Just ignore it.

As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.

It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea. 

But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–

And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.

“Hi, baby-”

Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.

“Hi Logan.”

—

“It’s been too long, sweetheart-” 

“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”

“But you answered.” 

Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.

“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”

It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.

"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.

“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”

You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.

“What do you want, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”

“No.”

“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”

You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.

It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.

“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.

“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”

He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”

You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.

Is this really living?

“Fine. You can come over.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”

With a snort, he ends the call.

He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance. 

With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.

He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.

When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble. 

Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you? 

You need to gain some control back.

“Condom,” you tell him. 

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”

He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.

Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. 

In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.

“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.

“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”

“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”

“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”

“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”

You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.

“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”

“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.

You groan, and he laughs.

You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything. 

The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.

But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat. 

You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-

He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.

After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.

For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.

But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”

Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.

“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”

He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake. 

He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.

“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”

You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.

“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-

“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess? 

“Fuck you, Logan.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes-”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”

You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.

It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.

He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple. 

As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.

He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder. 

You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.

At least you got those tide pens. 

You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.

You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.

—-

You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.

You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.

Back to this-

"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.

"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-” 

You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”

"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“ 

He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.

This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.

You leave the room.

A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.

"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”

He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.

"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.

You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”

He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.

You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.

A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.

"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”

Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.

You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.

You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.

And then one night you get a text. 

He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.

DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video

With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.

You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.

Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–

It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.

It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.

There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.

This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.

You hit play. 

At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.

“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”

AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.

Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it. 

A moment later, the text comes through.

“Ready for you, princess.”

God, if only it would take more than that.

As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt. 

You’re at his house an hour later. 

You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you. 

You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.

And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.

[stayevildarling]

could you write a natasha x reader fic based on the song wait a minute. maybe reader leaves her diary in nat's place and she reads it? something smutty, possibly a bit of corruption?

Natasha Romanoff x Reader- Wait a minute

A/N: thank you for this request anon! I'm always a bit self conscious about writing smut because I'm worried it's bad but here we go.

tags/warning: female reader, nsfw, corruption kink, mommy kink, bondage, oral, fingering, reader receiving

word count: 5.5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahs , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples

The sound of grunting echoes through the training room inside the avengers compound, your body hitting the mat for what feels like the hundredth time today. Gasping for air, you look up at Natasha, your mentor, towering over you, her chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. Every movement she makes is controlled and calculated, fitting for the woman who had been a trained spy and assassin at first before becoming a famous avenger.

,,Focus, солнышко'' she teases in a low, provocative tone, offering you a gloved hand to pull you up. ,,If you keep getting distracted, you will never improve''.

You can't help but flush under her gaze, sighing at the same time. The black widow has always had this effect on you, ever since you joined the recruiting programme several months ago. Mr. Stark had come across you through his contacts and wanted to bring you along straight away but some newer rules and contracts insisted on every potential new avenger to go through their skilled training programme, making sure you are ready to fight in battle. Steve Rodgers and Natasha mostly led those and much to your disliking, you had been paired with the redhead. Ever since seeing her in person for the first time, you had been in awe, feeling the attraction towards the woman and unable to shake it.

You knew from the start you shouldn't glance at her the way you did, but there was something about her that you couldn't shake. The way her body moved, the command in her voice, the knowing smirk on her lips every time she ghosts over you, the faint smell of her perfume mingling with sweat. It drove you crazy, made you forget every single thing you had trained so hard for, your goals, your desires and your usual shyness around strangers, only ever focusing on your work and goals and never usually one to back away from those, mostly keeping to yourself.

Her fingers curl around your wrist, pulling you up effortlessly as if you weigh nothing at all. She doesn't let go right away though, instead she holds your hand just a second too long, her eyes flickering down briefly to where your skin made contact. Your breathing hitches, your pulse quickening in your chest in that all too familiar way again.

,,You're distracted again'' she murmurs, barely above a whisper, some more recruits slowly filling the training room. She leans in close enough that her breath brushes your ear. ,,I think I know why''. In response you swallow hard, stepping back as you register more people in the room and trying to remain professional, your shy side suddenly bubbling to the surface. Natasha doesn't miss the way your eyes dart around the room, the blush on your cheeks. She never misses anything.

,,Again'' her voice snaps you back into the moment and she was already preparing for the next round. You couldn't concentrate, not when every fiber of your body feels turned on whenever she is around. The way she stands, the curves of her body, the glint of amusement in her green eyes, her red curls falling freely- god she was breathtaking and you weren't sure how much longer you could keep this up.

A few nights later, the compound is completely silent, most of the avengers either sound asleep or on missions. As the seasons had changed, the rain was now a constant friend, always pattering against the large windows and making the days much colder. Natasha finds herself lingering outside your room. She hadn't meant to, her legs had simply carried her there after a few days of noticing how you fumbled around her, how you could barely meet her gaze without the signs of nervousness. It was cute really. The black widow had been curious about you from day one, noticing you in the room full of recruits that Tony so enthusiastically introduced. You had been so excited, yet so shy around everyone, especially the avengers but especially her. Then she began training you, excited after everything Tony had told her about you and your shyness only turned her on more, seeing how she can make you an absolute mess with a single glance or touch, causing you to forget your strength, causing you to falter and since then she had been fantasising what you would feel like underneath her, falling apart but the way she wanted you, underneath her, naked.

The redhead had mostly been curious, something about you intrigued her, the raw mix of innocence and desire that you tried so hard to keep hidden, expect you were doing an awful job of it. The door to your room is slightly cracked and Natasha's eyes almost instantly fall on your small desk near the window. There it is. A small leather bound journal, half covered by some files, left innocently open. A smirk tugs at the corner of her lips, it's too tempting to resist.

She slips into the room, making sure the hallway is clear before she quietly shuts the door behind her. She had known about your journal for a while now, sometimes seeing you in a quiet corner writing in it's pages while looking so innocent and she had grown curious, needing to know the contents so badly. With silent and practiced movements, she moves towards the desk. The journal is well worn, it's pages slightly curled at the edges, as if you had been pouring your thoughts in this for years.

Her fingers ghost over the corner of your journal, her eyes glinting with curiosity and something darker. She can't help but flip it open gently, the pages crackling under her touch as she reads through the first few entries. It's as she expected, your experience training, notes on some training missions, thoughts on the avengers and compound. A few personal notes about your upbringing, your family, some rough days. But as she goes further, the writing begins to shift and her name appears for the first time. You had done your best to keep your feelings and desires hidden but within these pages you let go, writing about your fantasies, how her touch lingering made you feel, how your heart races whenever she is nearby, how it would be like between you two if things could be.. different.

The further that she reads, the more personal and explicit it becomes, your handwriting shaky as you describe how it feels when her hand brushes your waist, how the heat spreads through your body when she hovers above you while training. How you touch yourself to the thought of her, how the mere mention of her name sometimes causes you to force your legs closed, how you want to feel her lips, her hands roam your body, wondering what her lips taste like, what it would feel like if she would make you feel so good. A few pages further and you begin revealing your desires, wanting to completely give your trust to your mentor, have her blindfold you, have her tie your hands, give her utter and full control over you, wanting to obey her so badly.

Her lips curl into a smile, her amusement deepening with every paragraph. This was all the proof she needed, you had been thinking about her, just like she had expected. Only you had been obsessing a little more than she initially believed, your innocence, so eager to prove yourself, yet so naive and unguarded, leaving your room open while doing your late night training in the gym, leaving your desires written for anyone who might find them. Well, Natasha had found them and that changes everything. She closes the journal quietly and slips it back exactly where and how she had found it, her mind already miles away. She suspected the attraction was mutual but now she knew just how deep it runs through your body and it thrills her.

She knew just what to do as she goes to bed that night, tomorrow she would act like nothing had changed, she would still be your mentor, the black widow and avenger, calculating and composed but she had the upper hand now and it both aroused and excited her.

The next morning, you enter the training room, trying to shake off the lingering sleep. You shiver slightly, the rain and slight wind causing you to freeze a little. You hadn't noticed anything unusual this morning, everything perfectly in place. But as you step inside the empty training room, seeing Natasha standing on the mats, arms crossed, watching you with an expressing you can't quite understand, something feels different.

,,Good morning Y/N'' she says smoothly, her voice almost a little too casual, making the shivering go away as your body burns within an instant. ,,You ready for more sparring?'' she asks and you simply nod, trying to ignore the way her eyes seem to linger on you a little longer than usual. You muster up your courage, after all Natasha always had a way of making you feel like this. Today, it feels even more intimate though, like she is waiting for you to slip up.

As the session begins, you can't help but shake the feeling that she is playing with you. Every one of her moves feels calculated, like when she catches your wrist and twists you around, pinning you to the mat. Instead of pulling back immediately, she leans down, her breath warm against your neck her body pressing into yours, just enough for you to feel the heat radiating off her.

,,You're not focused again'' she murmurs, her lips barely an inch from your ear. ,,You know I hate when you're distracted, right?'' she tuts. Your heart slams in your chest, was this simply your head or was she toying with you? It was like she knew what her closeness did to you, how your thoughts are spiralling with each fleeting moment and every time she touches you.

And then she leans in even closer, her breath ghosting over your ear yet again. ,,Tell me detka'' she purrs, her voice dropping to a whisper that only you can hear. ,,What keeps you so distracted? is there something I should know about?'' she questions so innocently. The question hangs in the air, thick with implication. She doesn't move, her body still pressed against yours, her hand gripping your wrist with just the right amount of control. She is daring you to answer, daring you to reveal the thoughts she already knows. You swallow hard, your pulse racing. You can't form words, you can't breathe but yet you can feel her smirk against your neck, like she is finally waiting for you to crack- waiting for you to admit what she already knows.

,,I'm right here, you know'' she whispers, her voice suddenly utterly comforting. ,,All you have to do is ask'' she teases, causing you to gather control of your strength and escape her grasp. Instinctively, you take a step back, putting a distance between you both as her words repeat in your mind over and over again. You freeze, heart pounding so loudly that you are sure she can hear it. ,,All you have to do is ask'' the words send a flush of heat through your body, right to your core, causing the inability to look at her, or ever respond.

The redhead however feels no rush, not moving an inch as she takes in your features, watching your pretty little brain do all the work as her words sink in. She reads your body language, how you are squeezing your fists, the trembling of your lips and breath. And in that moment you realise she is playing with you, every action before, every word deliberate. She is pushing you, testing your boundaries and suddenly the thought crosses your mind whether this was some sort of avenger thing, whether this was part of your training, whether this was to teach you about distractions on missions and you begin doubting yourself, suddenly feeling embarrassed as all the ,,what if's'' cross your mind.

,,What's wrong?'' she asks, noticing how your behaviour changes from flustered to embarassed and uncomfortable within an instant. ,,You've gone very quiet'' she teases. And then again her tone makes it obvious, causing you to believe she is doing this on purpose. ,,Natasha I-'' you struggle to form a coherent sentence, overwhelmed by your insecurities, the doubting but also the clear attraction and signals your body is sending you.

,,I have read your diary'' she whispers, her voice soft but dangerous. Your stomach drops, a sharp wave of panic surging through you as the words sink in. She knew. Suddenly your face goes incredibly pale as the realisation sinks in that she had read every single one of your thoughts, every filthy dirty secret. Before Natasha can carry on with her game, you abruptly leave, at first feeling like you are going to be sick before feeling the pure embarrassment of this situation. You run to your room so fast that everything begins spinning but Natasha of course is much faster than you.

As you reach your room, a panting mess as you lean against the nearest wall, she is already right behind you, closing the door, before halting. ,,I know what you want detka'' she continues, her tone smooth. ,,I know exactly what you feel when I touch you, when I'm close to you''. ,,You've been thinking about it for a while haven't you?'' You can't help but bite your lip, desperately trying to catch and control your breathing. There is no point in denying it now, she has all the power.

,,Natasha I-'' you start again but your voice falters, you can't admit it, not yet, not with how she is so close yet so far away. ,,It's okay, you don't have to say anything darling'' she teases. With slow and deliberate steps, she approaches you but you back away just as slowly. And almost as if the two of you dance, your breath hitching with every step she is taking towards you, you suddenly reach the wall, again now her having the full control over you.

Her fingers slide down your arm, trailing over your waist before settling at your hip, her grip firm and possessive. She doesn't move quickly, she isn't rushing. She is savouring this, taking her sweet time with you. ,,I can make it real for you'' she whispers against your ear, her lips barely brushing the side of it. ,,Everything you wrote down, every little thought sweetheart... I'm going to give it to you''.

Your breath hitches, a small moan slipping out, the promise of her words causes your head to spin, You feel her pressing closer, her hand slipping up your side, leaving a trail of heat. You can't help but arch your back, just slightly, into her touch. The tension had been building between you for so long and it's finally there that you can't fight it back any longer.

,,You have thought about this detka, haven't you?'' her voice is low, her lips ghosting over your skin. ,,About me doing this.. holding you down, making you admit how badly you want it''. And of course the trained spy was right, it had been there all along in your journal, the words you had spilled out late at night while touching yourself to the thought of her. You had thought about her in control, the way she could dominate you, and now she was right there, willing to give it all to you.

Her fingers curl into your waist, tugging you just a little closer to her, enough for you to feel her breath hot on your neck. ,,I know you want this'' she whispers, her voice soft but commanding. ,,You don't have to hide it anymore, pretty baby'' she encourages. You tremble under her touch, the weight of her words sending a thrill right through you. Every inch of you is tense with anticipation, waiting hoping. She had taken the first step and there was no turning back now.

,,Tell me darling'' she murmurs, her lips inches away from your own, her voice dripping with control. ,,Are you ready to stop pretending?'' she questions.

,,Yes'' the answer quite literally bursts out of you as you meet her gaze, unable to pretend any longer, needing her, wanting her with every fibre of your being. A knowing smirk creeps it's way onto her features, this being what she had wanted all along and now she had you right where she wanted you. ,,Good'' she whispers before stepping back. ,,Meet me tonight in my room at 8pm'' she instructs and your mouth is left hanging open in shock. ,,What?!'' you ask, your breathing heavy. ,,And don't you dare touch yourself darling, I need you to be good and patient for me'' she teases, kissing your cheek before disappearing from your room, leaving you a panting mess.

The rest of the day passes by in a painfully slow blur, your mind completely consumed by her words, her presence still lingering on your skin, and the promise of what was to come tonight. Every second feels agonisingly slow, despite you opting for an everything shower, taking your sweet time as you get your body clean and ready for the redhead. You make sure to choose one of your expensive lotions, your favourite underwear and dress. ,,Don't touch yourself, darling'' the words keep repeating in your mind, your body aching with frustration.

Your entire focus is on 8 pm tonight, when you would finally be in her room alone. What would she do? What would she want from you? The very thought makes your stomach flutter with a mixture of nerves and excitement. You try and distract yourself as much as you can but nothing can pull you out of the haze that Natasha has left on you.

By the time you arrive at her door, your heart is hammering in your chest. You stand there frozen for a moment, nerves twisting in your stomach, your hand frozen mid air before knocking. Finally, you force yourself to tap your knuckles against the wood, the sound final and sharp. The door creaks open almost immediately, revealing Natasha standing there, dressed in something far more relaxed than her usual combat gear, a simple black tank top and loose sweatpants. But there is nothing casual about the way she looks at you, her eyes roaming over the dress, your exposed skin. ,,Come in'' she offers, stepping aside to let you pass.

You swallow hard and enter the room, it's dimly lit, warm and inviting but the air feels thick with tension. Natasha closes the door, behind you with a quiet click and suddenly it feels like you are trapped, no escape or turning back. You stand in the middle of the room, unsure what to do with yourself as your body buzzes with anticipation. The redhead circles around you slowly, her eyes never leaving yours, as if she is savouring every second of your discomfort, every tremble running through you.

,,You listened to me didn't you?'' she asks, her voice low and teasing. ,,You didn't touch yourself?'' she questions, causing you to nod quickly, your mouth dry, struggling to find your voice. ,,Good girl'' she praises, stopping in front of you, her hand reaching out to gently cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet her gaze. ,,You're going to be so good for me tonight, aren't you?'' she whispers. Her words send another shiver down your spine, you open your mouth to respond but Natasha doesn't give you the chance. Her lips crash into yours, hot and demanding, her fingers gripping your jaw with just enough force to keep you exactly where she wants you.

Her lips overwhelm you, consuming every bit of you, gaining every ounce of control over you within an instant as her mouth moves against yours, her tongue teasing, coaxing you to give in. You can't help but melt into her touch, your hand instinctively reaching for her waist, pulling her closer to you. But before you can lose yourself completely, Natasha pulls back, her breath heavy, her lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss. She smirks down at you, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip as if she is claiming it, marking what is now hers.

,,Patience'' she whispers, her voice sending a thrill through you. ,,I'm not done with you yet'' she teases as she steps behind you. You close your eyes, feeling her circling you like prey again. Before you know it you feel a cool silk fabric covering your eyes as she blindfolds you, just like in your entries. Next, her hand brushes down your arm, finding your hand in hers and leading you somewhere. It felt both scary and exciting, giving her control, strangely trusting the woman with your entire life. It all passes by in a blur as she lays you on what you assume to be the bed, in an instant lifting your arms above your head before you feel something cool but much sharper on your wrists and the clicking moments later only confirms your fantasies about being chained to her bed.

The room is absolutely silent, the only sound to be heard your own breathing and despite your inability to see you can feel the woman's presence as the bed dips moments later. ,,You have been so patient, waiting for this so long detka'' she whispers as she hovers above you, her breath hot on your body. Her fingers begin gently trailing down your arms, causing you to shiver, your breath hitching yet again. Her hands begin trailing lower and lower but painfully slow, causing you to move your hands, testing the restraints but you quickly learn it's no use, Natasha smirking as she finally had you right where she wanted, solely in her control.

The black widow takes her sweet time, watching as goosebumps form on your arms with every bit of movement of her fingers, watching as your thighs press together when her hands slowly reach your bottom half. Your nipples perfectly peak through the dress, causing Natasha to bite her lip in anticipation. She had every intention of taking it slow with you, knowing she could do anything and everything but there is something so sweet, so innocent about you in this moment that she finds it hard to control herself, wanting to feel you right now, wanting to draw out all those sweet little noises she had fantasised about for weeks now.

After endless teasing and her kissing about every inch of your body, already having you a whimpering mess, she finally begins moving your dress, exposing your underwear and she smirks as she notices the mess you had made simply from her touches. ,,Oh my..you are soaked'' she smiles, causing your cheeks to glow red but your breathing still heavy as you need her so badly at this point. ,,Please Natasha'' you beg, unable to keep any form of dignity at this point as you need her to touch you, to make you feel good just like she had promised you.

And this time she uses the surprise element, ripping off your underwear in one deliberate movement before her tongue dives right into your glistening core, giving you no chance to adjust, no chance to catch your breathing as you begin whimpering uncontrollably. The redhead begins devouring you, your taste even sweeter than she could have ever imagined, knowing already she was never going to get sick of the taste. Your hands form into fists despite the cuffs, your chest heaving as the pleasure runs through your body, so close to the edge already as you had waited so long, so patiently and had grown so desperate. ,,Fuck'' she pants as she catches her breath for a second. ,,You taste so good detka'' she praises, sending you into another moaning fit.

The black widow had considered for a while just what she was going to do to you tonight, whether she was going to use any of her toys on you, stretch you out the way she had imagined. But again she had learnt through your diary that you aren't too experienced, wanting to cherish tonight, do exactly what she had read you wanted. And so she begins diving into you again, this time at a much more brutal pace, causing you to lose yourself completely in the moment, the only thing you are able to do at this point, breathing and moaning. She doesn't stop, relentlessly pushing her tongue into your core, already able to feel you clenching around her, your juices flowing freely on her tongue, causing her own arousal to get the better of her.

For a moment she stops, not to punish you, not to torture you longer but simply to smile at you. You are perfect, exactly what she wanted and needed, a perfect little toy for her to play with, so good, so obedient and she knows she wanted to take your time with you from now on, not wanting this to be the only time she would get to see you fall apart for this. She watches in awe as you move against the restraints, your body simply a shivering mess before she smirks ,,You have done so good sweetheart'' she praises, causing you to smile a little which only makes her feel even more for you in this moment.

Without warning she enters one of her fingers and you immediately clench around her, the release so close yet so far away. She knows you could fall apart simply from one finger but she needed to hear you, needed you to beg for her. She hovers over you, her finger still moving inside you before she kisses you, her tongue fighting for entrance and you grant it immediately, moaning as you taste your own arousal on her lips. ,,God Natasha please'' you beg as she pulls away and the woman is enjoying this far too much. She leans back, before relentlessly adding another finger, curling them perfectly just to hit your sensitive spot.

,,Please.. god.. Tasha.. Please'' you beg, needing permission, needing her to finally let you cum and feel so good. ,,You sound so good when you beg for me sweetie'' she teases, causing you to pout in frustration. ,,How about you tell mommy exactly what you need?'' she teases, casing you to moan at the name she had chosen for herself, a drooling mess at this point. It takes you a second to recover before you respond. ,,Please mommy, can you fuck me? just fuck me please... I wanna cum for you, I want you to make me feel so good mommy please'' you beg over and over again, the sound so sweet it almost causes Natasha to tip over the edge.

,,Good girl'' she praises before she begins relentlessly pounding into your glistening pussy, her tongue finding your clit and the sensation sends you into overdrive, causing your entire body to shake as your orgasm begins washing over you. ,,Please mommy, may I cum?'' you ask and this was it. This was exactly what Natasha needed, she never expected you to be this good and obedient especially after the first time and she was sure she was going to please you in every way now. Her fingers move faster, curling deeper and harder into your core as her tongue flicks circles around your clit, and before you know it, she feels your walls tightening around your fingers, your white precious liquid spilling out of your core and onto her fingers, the sweet juice hitting her taste buds again as her tongue savours every single drop.

You didn't even realise you had been screaming for the entirety of your orgasm, never having felt something like this feeling in your entire life. Natasha had simply enjoyed, watched you as she savoured every bit of your dripping cum, her fingers still right where they had been. ,,Oh god'' you moan as you try and catch your breathing. ,,You did so good detka'' she praises as she finally pulls back and slowly extracts her fingers, knowing you must feel so sensitive now. With slow and gentle movements, she undoes the handcuffs and blindfold, finally granting you freedom again. You feel dizzy as you open your eyes, still in a haze of the orgasm that had washed over you moments before, your breathing still heavy. ,,Taste yourself detka'' she orders as she holds her two fingers out to your mouth and you obey as she hovers above you again, meeting her eyes that now seem much softer, much more content, almost as if you had pleased her.

She smiles as she kisses your lips, before pulling back ,,You did so well detka'' she praises, causing your cheeks to coat in a slight red shade again. Before you know it however, she gets up, leaving the bed as she gets rid of her supplies, walking away to get a wipe and clean her hands. Despite the daze of your orgasm and this night, your heart still pounding in your chest, you sit up on her bed, collecting yourself and pulling your dress up. ,,What are you doing?'' she questions, her eyebrows knitting as she comes back from the bathroom. ,,Um I- I wasn't sure if you wanted me to leave now'' you mumble, almost a little shy and she tilts her head before tutting. ,,Leave?'' she chuckles lowly. ,,Oh detka, I'm running us a bath, I'm far from done with you'' she teases and your stomach drops at her words, the earlier excitement rushing right back through you, knowing this wasn't a one time thing and curious what else she had planned for you. And if one thing was clear, Natasha wasn't going to let you go, not now, not ever, having found her perfect little detka, so innocent, so sweet and so obedient, just for her.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

could you write spanking slash?

A/n: When I first read this I thought it was spanking w/ Slash and idk if that's what you meant but spanking Slash is more fun in my head

Warnings: Smut, spanking (with a belt), riding, reader is referred to as mommy (only once I think), angst, mentions of bullying, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You had your ways of dealing with Slash's behaviour, he wasn't much for parties but he still went out and would often come back with girls, or at least try to.

You never took it too hard since you never defined your relationship, you lived together, sure, but you brought home just as many guys.

Even so, it was fun to discipline him, and you knew he loved it. Slash was always quiet, an introvert, but no one except you knew him to be a whiny little thing, begging to cum, saying he was a good boy and asking for forgiveness.

To everyone else he had dignity, but he handed it over to you at a condescending glance, dropping to his knees in an instant just for your approval.

There was a girl, Slash didn't know her but you did. She made high school hell for you, and seeing her in Slash's lap at the bar made you furious.

He was drunk, of course, you'd had a few yourself, giving you some extra confidence. You marched right over to him and the girl recognized you immediately, giving you a wide smile.

"Y/n, is that you? Oh, god, it has been too long! How are you?" She greeted, reaching a hand out to shake yours, her other arm wrapped around Slash's neck. He smiled wonky at you but his attention was drawn more to her chest in his face than anything else.

You rolled your eyes at him, of course he'd be easily distracted by tits, this was Slash we're talking about. "I'll be much better once you get off my boyfriend." You stated, crossing your arms over your chest.

The girl paused for a moment, processing your words and she had to hold back a laugh. "Your-your what?" She asked, muffling a chortle by taking a sip of her drink.

Slash took the drink from her and finished it off, wiping a drop from his lip before setting the drink down on the counter. "My. Boyfriend. Get off." You said, reaching for Slash's hand but he pulled it away.

"I'm not your anything." He said with a light laugh, eyeing the girls outfit a little closer. You knew he wasn't your anything, but it still hurt to hear him say it, especially when it just fueled this girls ego.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and looked over your shoulder to see Duff, where he came from you didn't know but you were happy he was here. He saw the tears in your eyes shining off of the bright lights of the party.

"He is her boyfriend." He said, moving to try and get the girl off of him. "He's just wasted."

The girl scoffed and refused to move. "He looks fine to me." She said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He'd not looked in her eyes once since she sat down, he didn't care about her, just her body.

"If you think that's fine you shouldn't be here at all." Duff got a little more aggressive with it and pulled her off of him. Slash stood and the blonde guided him towards you. The guitarist stumbled but held onto you and let you walk him out of the bar.

Neither of you were exactly sober so you flagged down a taxi and pushed Slash in. He leaned on you the whole way home, leaving kisses all over you, wherever he could reach.

"Who was that girl?" He asked, chin on your shoulder. He smelled of booze and cigarettes, hints of pot carried with him.

"Don't worry about it." You grumbled, arms over your chest. Slash looked at you, in your eyes, it wasn't a lot but it was a reminder that you were important to him, enough so that you were more than a body for a night.

"I am worried about it." He said, giggling. "Not worried, but, you know, curious."

You thought about it a moment before huffing and slumping in your seat. "She was... in highschool..." You started, searching for the right way to say it but you weren't really in much better shape than he was.

Slash gasped and sat up straighter. "No!" He exclaimed, to which you turned to your head, brows raised in confusion. "Fuck, I never knew you swung that way... but you said no to a threesome!" The driver shot a look back at you when he said that.

You rubbed your face in exhaustion, Slash saw the annoyance on your face. "She was just a bitch, always made fun of me and shit." You mumbled, looking out the window as you spoke.

Slash let out a soft 'oh'. "Fuck... I'm getting it tonight, aren't I?" He asked, giggling again. You gave a firm nod.

You were happy he got so giggly when he smoked, he was all cute and smiley while you helped him out of his clothes, keeping his belt next to him on the bed while his shirt and jeans got tossed to the floor beside the bed.

He was on his stomach, you were sitting just as naked on top of him, straddling his thighs from behind, his expensive leather belt folded in your hand.

It didn't take long for his giggles to die down, though. His ass was red and stinging, body shaking as sobs ripped from him. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, mommy, I'm sorry." He cried, burying his face further into the pillow in his arms.

His legs kicked as you brought the belt down again and again, counting in your head to a good number. You watched the jiggle of his ass and it made you smile, you saw the marks from his alligator skin belt, the scales were hard on his skin.

"All you had to do was tell her you were my boyfriend." You said through gritted teeth. You didn't need him to hear you, he did but you just wanted to say it, get it out.

"I-I didn't want to lie." He mumbled, looking back at you over his shoulder.

You scoffed at that. "Didn't want to lie?" You hit him with an extra amount of force, it pissed you off that that was the best excuse he could come up with. "You lie all the fucking time, you fucking bastard." He choked as the belt came down again.

"You-you really think I was- I was thinking about that?" He asked, no matter how shaky his voice got, how bad it stung where you hit him, there was still that look in his eyes, an extra spark he never had when he looked at anyone else. There was the look he had for sex, for food, then the look he had for music, and then there was you. He looked dazed, in awe. He never did say anything negative about you, even if he was being especially rough with you he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

You stared down at him, running the belt over your, feeling every scale over the palm of your hand. "Roll over." You said.

"Huh?" He asked, sniffling.

This time you emphasized your words with the belt, spanking him again. "Roll over." His breath caught but he did as you ordered and rolled onto his back, struggling to hold himself up on his elbows.

His cock was leaky and pulsing painfully, neglected and needy. You were about to solve that.

You moved up the bed and sank down on him, watching closely as his eyes rolled back and he fell into the bed again. He reached for your hips, holding them loosely as you began moving on him, grinding and rolling your hips. His crying didn't stop but it morphed to a more pleasurable one, whines and moans echoing off the walls.

He came quick but you weren't done and he knew it, you needed to cum too. He took a hand from your hip and started rubbing your clit, not doing a great job of it in his static state, you grabbed his hand and moved against it yourself, feeling that familiar knot building until it snapped and you rode out your high on him, feeling him spilling more into you.

You collapsed on top of him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around you and his crying quickly died down as he fell asleep as well, holding you tight to his chest.

You went out again the next night, sticking closer to Slash this time. He was drinking less, which was odd but brushed it off as nothing. It was just like every other night, same club, same few bands, same drink.

Same fucking girl. She came back and ignored you, choosing to take a seat in Slash's lap again instead of the free seat on the other side of him. He wasn't drinking as much but that didn't make him sober, a drink was still in his hand it just wasn't his fifth in the last hour.

"Hey, baby." She greeted, again Slash's eyes were drawn away from her face like the dog he was, she wore a dress that exposed more of her chest on the off chance that Slash was there. Same lack of personality, different year. Slash smiled as a greeted but he kept his hands to himself unlike yesterday. "Couldn't get enough of me, huh?"

"You're the one that came up to me." He said. "I think it's the other way around, sweetheart." That nickname stung something deep in you. That was your name, when he was tired and you were cold, seeking his warmth.

"Can you fuck off?" You grumbled under your breath, shooting a look at them.

"Ooh, girlfriends mad, huh?" She mocked, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling herself closer.

"She's not my girlfriend." Slash said. You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood, it took your mind off the stinging in your eyes. Then Slash spoke again and your head snapped to him as the words left his mouth. "She's my fiancée." He looked to you and reached for your hand only to find there wasn't a ring on it.

You had no idea what he was talking about but he looked so sad, brows knit together, lips parted slightly as his eyes met yours. "You took your ring off?" He asked. You stared blankly at him, the girl looked between the two of you, unsure of what was happening. Then, like a train, a realization came over Slash. "Oh, fuck me then, it was a dream." He pushed the girl off and searched through his pocket a moment before handing you a small box.

He didn't want to lie, you weren't his girlfriend in his mind. If only his mind didn't play tricks on him like that.

[rodolfoparras]

angels I hope you do get better there !! sprinkling some of the smut here to help you feel better, AGAIN INSPIRED BY YOUR PERVERT PRICE DRABBLES CUZ BY LORD I'm boutta yeet myself across time and space (help me AAA)

You've been working in the Task Force 141 team for awhile now— having given a chance to unveil yourself at the field with skills you've honed over the years is such a wonderful feeling. You find yourself fortunate to be working with some of the most finest, open-minded people over there, and recently work, the missions have been rougher around the edges. It's nothing you can't handle of. Except for one: the captain himself, John Price.

Now, you find him fascinating— the man is THE brilliant man, having lead through the plans with precision and professionalism, his tactics and skills are handy by time. One of the many reason you've come to respect and admire the male. But little do you know that Price is.. rather infatuated with you. Do you even notice how he always sticks to you whenever you both training or practice shooting together? How your clothes always seems to disappear whenever Price had come by to drink whiskey with you? How he'd always crossed his legs together whenever you're with him?

You do notice Price started to wear a throat mic when the heli is taking the team towards the location, and how some of the wiring bits are all tangled up.

"Hey, Cap, need help with that?" You gestures towards the item, and he looked confused as he tries to check it with his hand. "Here let me help."

Did you know that he purposely fuck it up so he can get your hands around him? Once he saw Graves (he rather not mentioned that name) wore it when they worked together before, immediately the idea of it resembling a collar made him blush, and with how your big hands almsot wrapped around his throat, fuck does he wishes you can punish him for being a bad, horny dog.

Want to know something that's even more dangerous? He's wearing a cage of your favourite colour. Little cute one, pushing his big cock to the smallest size. Hey, it helps by covering his erection, and while before he didn't think he could get it up again, just the voice of you booming through the base and teaching the recruits, is enough to make him hard and fuck himself on his finger (How convenient that his office window has the direct view of the training ground) Did he take the cage off? No, the only time he did was to pissed and god, he's getting hard again at the thought of how your piss would taste like. Bitterness from the coffee or the sweetness of your desserts?

The only time you almost catch him is when you had to ask for the report of the recent mission, and before you could knock on his room door, (he's nowhere by the office or anywhere else at the base) you can hear some sort of noise— oh,you're not that daft to not know.

"F— Fuck Daddy! I can't, you're too big.." You fucking hate how that nickname earned a twitch from your cock, and how you shouldn't be listening in, whoever Price is with not of your concern. "Have no mercy one me.."

The sounds of skin slapping skin is enough for you to palm your hardening cock under your cargo pants, looking around to see if there's any soldiers passing by. That is until you heard a title, your title. With your name.

"Yes, yes, put me in my place! I'm your toy, AH! Use me, mark me.." God the filth of that mouth..

The moment he screamed daddy again, you had accidentally spilled all over your boxer and rushes towards your room.

He does noticed how you kept getting flustered around him the day after, clueless to your eardrops act, but he does love how his object of obsession keep crossing his legs as he does now. Oh the tension, Price rather love that and he thinks he's gonna play the pervert captain role for MUCH longer.

-🪂 anon

I AM GOING TO GO FUCKING INSSANE JESUS CHRIST HONEY BEE????:;!: I GENUINELY DONT KNOW WHAT TO SAY TO THIS EXCEPT FOR THE FSCT THAT OTS THE HOTTESR THINH IVE READ??? Let me reeead this a couple of times before I speak more in it there’s genuinely so many parts of this that I need to just soak up for a good moment

[surferblues]

hi livy! congrats on 500💘 so honored to be mutuals i literally adore your writing! may i humbly request prompt ❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜ with Austin? so excited to read 🫶🏼

careless whispers ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

pairings austin butler x fem!reader

warnings 18+ only, minors dni, smut, choking, degrading kink, oral (m), and obviously sexual themes (duhhh) SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG THIS WAS AT THE BOTTOM OF MY DRAFTS 😭🫣

you and austin weren't anything to each other, well, at least not romantically. to put it lightly, you were friends who messed around.

friends who messed around in secret, because, god forbid anyone knew about this dirty friends with benefits situation you and austin agreed to.

it was always the same little game. you and austin would be out with all your friends and he'd suddenly slip his rough hands under the table to rub your thigh.

causing you to slap his hand away, even though your crimson red cheeks undeniably gave you away.

but that's what he liked about the whole situation - he loved how you got flustered and soft with every single touch.

He had you completely wrapped around his finger.

the room was fairly dark, the only source of light being the luminescent neon colors from screens and led lights - but aside from that, no one at this party would see what Austin was up to.

he knew not to be too bold, anyone in here would kill for a chance to expose something so scandalous - "costars who fuck on the low!"

pfft, what a flashy headline.

the only people aware of this sudden dynamic between you and Austin were your castmates and closest friends, aside from that - your's and Austin's publicists have been working their asses off.

Austin had been slyly making his way across the room, letting out small thanks and smiles as a-listers praised his acting in elvis. although his current destination had been far more important.

you were in the corner of the room, a small smile on your pink lips and a teasing glimmer in your soft eyes. your finger tips twirling with your locks of hair as you let out fake laughter.

you were oblivious to Austin's watchful eye, you were too busy giggling at the brunette beauty who was horribly attempting to flirt.

Austin watched every movement you've made since that wannabe a-lister walked over to you. jealousy was running through his veins as that guy leaned towards you, whispering in your ear - he was too close to you.

maybe this was how you ended up in this current situation. your knees on the cold tile floor, your tongue toying with austin's thumb as he looked down at you.

"your mouth is better for so many other things than talking." Austin's tone was as rough as his grip that his cold hand had as he gripped your cheeks, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” You challenged, inviting him to take what he needed.

"you're just begging to be punished, aren't you ?" He cooed as you looked up at him through your long lashes, nodding.

Austin reached  down and pulled at his pants to release his hardness, and brought a hand to the back of your head, ever so roughly pushing you towards it.

"c'mon, slut, don't be shy." he husked, gripping a handful of your hair and pulling it nearly out of your scalp as he positioned your lips to be on his hard dick.

Your tongue came out, to lick and tease his tip, your eyes never leaving his. A smirk of satisfaction spread on your lips as his head threw back and incoherent curses slipped from his lips.

Austin hissed at the contact, He grabbed himself at the base, rubbing the head of his cock in a circle on your lips before lifting his hips to enter. 

“you shouldn't get so jealous." you remarked, moving your wet tongue against his member. He then eased his cock into your mouth. You couldn't't help but to let out a cry of pleasure as his hard laid heavy on your tongue . Meanwhile, he groans at the feeling of your warm wet walls surrounding his cock. He could never get enough of how you felt around him.

your hands flew to his hips for support, while his back hit the hard wall behind him for support.

Austin let out breathless chuckles in disbelief, his tongue poking at the side of his cheek as he watched you with a focused sense.

"you shouldn't have been talking to him." he said sternly in between thrust in your mouth, and breathy whimpers. you were about to pull away from his dick, to let out a snarky response. but he pulled your head towards him before you could even try.

you let out a small grunt, his dick hitting the back of your throat. you continued your work on Austin's member, hallowing your cheeks around him as your tongue danced against his now-wet, velvety skin, moaning against him.

Soft grunts were erupting from Austin as he bucked his hips to meet your head bobs, your warm cheeks and spit nearly throwing him off of the edge. Tears began to slip from your eyes as his dick went deeper and deeper with every thrust .

He quickly pulled out of your mouth, not wanting to cum just yet, roughly grasping your chin before leaning down to collide his lips with yours. you gripped his blond lock, your tongues rolling against one another roughly.

your knees began to raise up from the ground, following his lips. you pulled away, breathless whimpers slipped from both of your lips.

"I'm not wearing any underwear.. just thought you'd like to know." you suggestively whispered against his lips, both of you chest to chest. he threw his head back, a playful smile on his lips as he processed your words.

"you're going to be the death of me." he murmured, pushing you against the wall with a reckless force. he was quick and messy, this time.

he nearly ripped your dress as he bunched it up your hips, the look in his eyes seemingly so urgent.  “Do you think you deserve this?” his tone demeaning as he finally met your eyes, his finger tips barely grazing your wet clit.

you opened your lips to speak, but as soon as your lips parted Austin pushed his lips roughly against yours while his duo of ring covered pushed into you, thrusting and curling upward as he leaned up to kiss you. your tongues collided as you kissed.

you let out a groan of annoyance, tired of the teasing. "please, stop teasing austin." you begged, reaching for his fingers but he pulled them away with a sly smirk.

"oh, baby im gonna fill you up so good." he cooed, gripping your hips so hard that you were sure you were going to have bruises.

he lined his dick with your needy hole, slowly and slowly pushing his dick along your wet slit. once he finally got to your empty hole, he slammed his hips into yours with ease.

the filthy action drove you crazy, and you whined, your hand wrapping around one of his biceps as you let him settle.

It didn't hurt, but God did you feel full. he pulled out once again, following back with another thrust. he lifted up one of your legs to his waist so he could reach that sweet spot of yours.

With your legs hooked around his waist, you pushed your pelvis up to meet each thrust, the breaths coming more and more shallow as he unconsciously began to move faster and harder within you.

you placed your hand over your mouth to silence your moans, because god forbid anyone heard what was going on behind closed doors.

you squealed as austin let out a loud groan, the two of you reaching your highs together. his hips stuttered while he kept thrusting inside of you, spurring you on as you came. your cunt squeezed him with a vice grip as if it wanted to cage him in.

his head dipping in the crevice of your shoulder as his lips parted and eyes shut. you could hear the sound of your juices mixing with each lazy thrust.

"if i see him with you again, ill beat his ass." austin murmured against your skin, letting out a croaky chuckle.

but his laughter couldn't disguise his seriousness , because you knew he would.

[francis-writes]

In the dungeons

Judge Claude Frollo x fem!reader

Smut. I might got carried away.

You were standing in the hall of Palace of Justice, nervous and shivering. Not only it was cold there but also you never liked this place, it made you feel uneasy. Maybe it was the thought about all the people who were tortured and sentenced to cruel death in this building that caused your antipathy. In normal circumstances you would never come there but you needed to see your husband. He wasn't one of the poor prisoners - but who knows if it wouldn't be better for you. Your husband was no other than the infamous judge Claude Frollo.

Honestly, you wasn't worried when your parents decided that you should married him. Though his old age, in your opinion judge was still handsome and his authority and coldness somehow only made him more attractive to you. It was hard to decide whether you're friends were more frightened or disgusted when you told them about who's gonna be your husband but you always had a thing for older man. Well, maybe there was something wrong with you but at least you had fun.

I mean... for some time.

You shouldn't complain about your marriage. Frollo provided you safe, wealthy and comfortable life. You lived in grand mansion in Paris, without any duties, large group of servants helped you in everything and they were at your command. You could have almost anything, Claude was very lavish with you and he was willing to fulfil your every whim. He was smart, handsome, he cared about you and treated you with respect... your life was almost perfect. Except for one little detail. You felt lonely.

It sounded stupid but that's how it was. Your husband was very reserved and he rarely showed you any affection. He spent most of the time at work and when he came home, he was talking about his job. This... you could even understand. Due to the difference of age and passions between you, there was little amount of topic that interested both of you. But you talked with your friends. You always found yourself something interesting to do in your free time so you didn't need your husband to accompany you at the day. But at night - there was the problem. 

Claude didn't avoid his marital duties, he probably enjoyed them but you couldn't stand how boring and conservative your love life was. Sometimes you noticed a glimpse of desire in Frollo's eyes. You knew you were beautiful and your husband wasn't made of stone. But the bigot in him looked for sin in any pleasant activity and that's why sex between you always was so modest. And dull.

You were young and hungry for life - that's why you decided to visit your husband in work. You hoped that you'd be able to convince him to going home earlier than usual.

You knocked to the door of Frollo's office. Hearing cold "Come in", you entered the room with a bit of a worry and a bit of excitement mixed in your heart. He was sitting behind a desk, reading documents but when you came, he stopped working and looked at you surprised. 

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" Frollo asked with a note of irritation in his voice.

"I, uhmmm...." your throat became dry as you wondered what to say. Your husband had another disadvantage (though it was certainly very useful skill during interrogating prisoners): in his presence you always felt litlle and insecure, as if Claude was not your husband but an inquisitor arresting you.

(Fact that it was turning you on didn't help)

"I just wanted to see you" you finally said, immediately realizing how stupid it sounded.

Your husband raised an eyebrow.

"You saw me at morning and you would see me at evening when I come home. Is it not enough of my company for you?"

Oh God, it was bad idea. You tried frantically to find a good explanation for your visit.

"am I bothering you here?" You asked.

"No, not really" Claude steepled his hands "I simply thought you had an important reason to visit me"

You blushed. Well, this discussion was already awkward so you decided to be absolutely honest. What bad could happen? (Probably a lot of things but you didn't want to think about this now)

"So, I know this isn't the best moment to talk about this but I feel like I don't attract you"

(That wasn't actually true but it sounded better than "you're a goddamn prude and I want you to pound me as if your life depended on it")

"What?" Judge asked in a shocked tone.

"When we're together you seem so distant and cold... I understand that you have a reputation to uphold but... even when we are in bedroom-" God, you could feel your cheeks getting redder and redder "you... you don't seem interested and sometimes I feel that if we didn't spend nights together, it wouldn't make you any difference"

You felt silent, waiting for answer. Probably your husband would scold you for talking about such things in his work.

Claude looked at you, full of thoughts and inner turmoil. To say he didn't desire you was a complete lie. Since the very first moment he saw you, he thought you were incredibly beautiful and he looked forward for your wedding night. And after it, his feelings only intensified but he tried to hold back his desires and restrict his love life to make sure that he doesn't commit sin of leacherousness but the sight of you standing in front of him, blushing, made him forget about his doubts. Suddenly he had a wicked idea. If you felt that he doesn't desire you.. maybe it was a good time to show you what he fantasised about?

"I think that I can fulfill your needs" he said, getting up. "Just come with me".

You followed him, titillation and impatience seething in you, especially that you went down the stairs to the floor where prison cells and torture chambers were located.

When you entered one of the dungeons, Claude hanged the torch on a wall and locked the door.

"Why-" you wanted to ask but he interrupted you.

"I'm making sure that no one will find us. I have a reputation to uphold"

His stern voice and a little smirk on his face when he looked at you, made you shiver. Though you weren't sure whether it was a caused by fear or by excitement.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to see what I dream about when I look at you?"

You replied without hesitation.

"Yes"

"Then take off your clothes " he ordered. You blushed as you always made love in darkened room, under the sheets, but you began to take off your dress. You weren't going to disobey your husband, especially not now.

When you were finally naked, Frollo stood there for a moment in silence, eyeing you up as if he wanted to note every inch of your body in his memory. He probably still tried to hold his mask of a pious judge, but his face, his eyes, were barely hiding his desire and long tamed lust.

Finally Claude came closer and grasped your hands, then handcuffed them above your head. Position was highly uncomfortable but you didn't make a sound, wondering what would happen next. You could see a lot of different torture devices around the room (honestly you didn't even have idea how some of them worked) that only increased your fear.

You weren't able to turn your head much and see what's happening behind you, you could only hear footsteps of your husband so first lash of the whip was unexpected. You screamed loudly as ineffable pain pierced your back. You still couldn't see Claude but you had an impression that you heard a pleased gasp.

"I want you to count strikes while I'll be punishing you". And after a moment of consideration, he added "ehm, if you feel that you can't take it anymore... and you want to already stop, just say 》red《. Nothing else will stop me. Crying, groaning, whining, begging for mercy will be ignored. You understand?"

"Yes" you whispered. Your back felt as if it was in fire and you had no energy to speak but somehow... You wanted more.

"Speak louder, I can't hear you. And call me 》Your honor《. Clear?"

"Yes, your honor"

Then another strike hit you.

"Two!" You shouted, tears streamed down your face. Your voice was shaking, your back was burning, your arms ached because now you were almost hanging on them.

Another strike.

"Three!"

Now you openly started sobbing and whimpering.

"I am s-s-so sorry, your honor... I beg you, have m-mercy on me... I will d-do whatever you w-want!"

Frollo put bat aside and embraced you, with no regard for your hurt back. His one hand caressed your skin, wandering from your thighs, belly and spending longer time between your breasts. He buried his face in you hair, enjoying the  moment. After a while he rested his head on yours, pressing cruelly his body to your suffering back.

"If you're begging so desperately... I will have mercy"

He stood in front of you and freed your hands. You fell on your knees, too sore to stand.

Frollo smiled, enjoying the feeling of power that punishing people was giving him. He took of his robe and pants. Standing naked in the light of the torch made him feel uncomfortable but thought of having sex in clothes was simply unappealing for him.

He put his hand in your hair, stroking it gently.

"I'm lucky to have such obedient wife" he murmured.

You raised your head and looked up at him, with tears streaming down your face.

"Will you..." you gulped, unused to talking openly about intimate things with your husband. Ironically, you talked  about it with your friends, especially before wedding, trying to guess how your married life's gonna look like - but never with the one person it concerned. "Will you take me now... your honor?"

He crouched and took your chin if his hand.

"I thing you deserved it" Claude leaned over and kissed you. He never did it so passionately, aggresively even, before. At some point he bit your lip. You pulled of, surprised with sudden pain. You touched your lip. After seeing blood on your fingers you looked at your husband who was observing you carefully, and smiled. God, honestly you used to think about Frollo punishing you and having sex in dungeons but it felt much better than you could ever imagine. You wrapped your hands around his slender waist and sank in his lips. His hands were roaming your body, causing a pleasant shiver. You could barely breathe but you didn't want to interrupt the moment. After a moment you tried to pull Claude on the floor but he stopped you.

"No" he said standing up and grabbing your hand "there's a better place"

He led you to a massive table - or rather a rack - in the corner. As far as you were concerned, prisoner's hands and ankles were fastened to rollers on devices ends and executioner was stretching victims body until it caused excruciating pain.

"Get on it" Frollo ordered and you obediently followed his command. He began tying your hands to the rack.

"Are you gonna use it on me?" You asked jokingly but with a bit of anxiety. After all, you didn't know how far Claude wanted to take this game. Well, he told you that you can stop whenever you want and you supposed you can trust him.

"Maybe another time" he replied in a serious tone and kissed your neck, sucking on a delicate skin. Then he crawled on the top of you and stroked his member a few times until it got hard. He didn't fasten your legs to the table so you wrapped them around his hips.

"Are you ready your honor?"

He nodded with cocky smile and entered you.

It wasn't painful like the first time. For a long time it was awaited moment and you loved feeling him inside you, thrusting, feeling his warm breath on your neck and hearing quiet moans, proving that as much as he doesn't like to show this, your husband enjoys what you're doing. Usually your hands were wandering along his back, sometimes scratching it, but this time you were restrained and you could only arch your back when pleasure was too overhelming.

Finally, Claude came and fell on your body, breathing heavily. You wanted to move hair from his wet forehead but with tied hands, you could only raise your head a bit and kiss his cheek. Frollo kissed your lips and smiled.

"I love you, y/n. You know it right?" He said and you felt surprised. Of course, he was your husband but Claude rather avoided talking about feelings so you had to guess if he has any affection for you. This confession made your heart warm.

"I know, Claude, I know" you smiled. "And by the way, we need to do it more often"

[skibasyndrome]

Hey Simon 💜,

3, 12, 28, 29 and 30 for the ao3 wrapped asks

Hey Sophia! Thank you so much for asking! 💜

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

I've more or less unsuccessfully tried to answer this before, but I think the conclusions is: I'm proud of most of my fics, for the simple fact that I dared to write them and share them, no matter if they were read by a lot of people or not or whether I think they were some of my stronger ones or not. But it bears repeating that I'm really proud of my Simon does YR Kinktober 2024 series overall because! Oh my god! I wrote a LOT in a month, especially since it was a busy month and with those fics especially it felt like I needed to be brave to post them (you know best of all how much I get into my own head before posting smut that feels a little more out there, whoops).

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

I answered this here and the short answer is: don't look at me, I have enough WIPs to last me for another year probably 💀

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

this one I've also tried to answer before, but why not add more fics!

Tbh I really like what I did with Body language say you wanna!!! I think it's one of my more creative concepts and - I haven't reread to confirm! - I think I pulled it off nicely <3

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Answered this already a couple of times but you know I can't stop finding new ways to answer this because choosing a single favorite is HARD! so...................... have a beautiful, slightly NSFW, line out of a snippet about our favorite princess Wille (it's the gender affirmative smut for me <3 I love her dearly):

This shouldn't feel real, she doesn't dare to look down, afraid that she'd wake up from a dream if she's not careful, but she can see it behind in her mind's eye, the visual accompanying the sensation, Simon kissing and licking over her skin, shoving the lace of her bralette out of the way with his face to get to her nipple.

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Oh my god, if January me saw what December me has written in a year???? I think he'd fucking laugh in disbelief!!!!

I have a tendency to downplay how much I write because my bad phases feel like they last forever and because I mostly write oneshots and ficlets and it's difficult for me to feel like those "count", you know? But, I mean, objectively? I posted 171,274 words on ao3 and hat doesn't even include the 47 (if I counted correctly) not-5-sentence-ficlets I posted!

And, to be honest, there definitely were some points this year where I was doubting myself so hard that I was convinced I'd just stop writing, because I can't really do it anyways. It was a huge surprise that I bounced back from that and that I am in a place now where I'm, just generally and conceptually speaking, happy with writing again. And, honestly, I have my beloved friends (you know who you are) and all the lovely people reading my fics and engaging with them with so much positivity and love to thank for that 💜💜💜

ask me a ao3 wrapped question if you feel like it <3

[rs-hawk]

wild to me that ppl are saying you're making being native your whole personality and that you're too political but I remember a handful of times you got ppl criticising you for writing monster smut w native mythos and "appropriating" native folklore and you're just like "I'm native tho..." like there's no winning w ppl when your very existence is political. (I'm not native but I'm disabled, queer and fat and have gotten criticised for highlighting my struggles)

Literally like?? That was wild. I got accused of basically not being Indigenous enough because made it too hard to find on my page (even though I had posted about it multiple times and only had at that time like 100 posts) so at least that Anon thought it was more likely I was appropriating myself than being Indigenous, now I'm getting crap for it being what, too obvious?

I agree though. When people consider your very existence political, there's nothing you can do to not be political.

I delete most asks about this kind of thing because I know it's a "Don't feed the trolls" situation, but I get anons all the time complaining about me saying AFAB/AMAB, trans<insert gender>, Cis, fat, how I portray Disabled!Reader in the God x Disabled!Husband series, etc etc. I think some people just like being unhappy because I get primarily overwhelmingly positive feedback and people saying that some of what I write is the most positive portrayals they've seen in a long time. I try my best to pull from my own experiences, and I do listen to criticism. I want my page to be a reprieve for people, and if someone found my work disrespectful in a genuine sense, I would want to know. That's one reason I have my anons on and my inbox and messages are always open. Also why I was very careful about my tagging and trigger warnings with the Raven Mocker piece that started that whole situation because I know many Indigenous people wouldn't want to read it. Like how I block tags relating to Sk1nw4lk3rs or W3nd1g0s because I'd be paranoid the whole time reading it, and I'd personally find it disrespectful.

I'm happy with what I write and glad other people enjoy it. If others don't just because they don't like it or me, I want them to block me. I want everyone on my page to be happy and enjoy my work. If they don't like me or my work, they shouldn't be here.

[poppy-in-the-woods]

Playing God | Chapter One: The Worst

Plot: Sadie is a vampire hunter with a problem: the members of her favourite band are vampires. She spent the last five years since she found out training to take them out, one by one, beginning with the youngest, guitarist Tim Henson. But things rarely go as planned, and Sadie's life will be turned upside down after her first encounter with Tim.

Pairing: Vampire!Tim Henson x Vampire hunter!OFC

Word count: 3352

Rating: Mature/Explicit.

General tags: vampire au, arranged marriage, smut, violence, blood, biting, implied homophobia, misoginy, lgbtq characters, slight gore.

Chapter tags: violence, alcohol consumption, asshole brother.

Author's note: Per @veronicaphoenix advice, I have decided to cross-post this on here too, but if you want to read it on AO3, here's the link. As always, English is not my first language, this is not proofread, yada yada yada, you know the drill already. Hope you enjoy!

Learning that her favorite group was made up entirely of vampires was not easy for Sadie. Another girl would have loved that, but Sadie came from a family of vampire hunters, and she felt betrayed. She knew it was stupid to feel that way, because it wasn't like they'd done it to pick on her specifically, but she couldn't help it. So, she set out to finish off all of them, starting with one of the guitarists, Tim, since he was the one who had been a vampire the least amount of time. If she could kill him, the others would fall, one after another, sooner or later. After all, even though there were several of them, they only had to separate them.

A couple of years earlier, Sadie had had her initiation ceremony in which she had killed her first vampire, and in the five years following the perceived betrayal, she trained hard, driven by hatred until she was considered one of the best hunters of her age within the family.

On her twenty-fifth birthday the opportunity presented itself: like vampires, hunters moved around a lot, and it was the first time in years that Sadie's family was in not just the same state, but the same town as the band. It had taken some effort, but thanks to internet forums and their own research skills, they had found their address. It was funny that there were several fans who were closer than they thought to the band's real address.

With the help of her siblings, Sadie had spent a month watching them, studying their patterns, all the while monitoring social media, and she knew they were all going to be at a club that day, celebrating the anniversary of Tim's conversion. Confident in her abilities as a slayer, she insisted on going alone.

A nice dress and a couple of fifty-dollar bills were enough to convince one of the employees to sneak her through the service door, where her purse would not be searched. Once inside, she headed for the restroom. As soon as one of the cubicles was free, she entered it, skipping the queue and earning a few angry exclamations. Without paying attention to them, she took the silver stake out of her bag and hid it in the shaft of her boot. She checked that it did not stick out or show too much of its outline and stepped out, again ignoring the protests.

She searched for them by looking around, but there were too many people. Determined, she made her way to the bar, which, being slightly elevated, offered a better vantage point.

“Hey, can I have a Shirley Temple?” she asked the bartender.

The guy ignored her. Maybe she shouldn't drink anything, even if the cocktail was non-alcoholic; it wasn't a good idea for her to feel like going to the restroom in the middle of the job. She had to be focused and in top form to kill the greatest living guitarist.... well, the greatest undead guitarist. A shudder ran down her spine.

Tim's affair with vampirism had been no accident, he had been chosen for his talent. He was the youngest of the band, and although the others treated him like the little brother, the truth was that none of them had reached a century of life. They were all the offspring of a vampire who was about five hundred years old, but from the first year of his new life, his sire had trusted his new siblings to take care of him and teach him everything he needed to know about being a vampire. Like, for example, how to feed.

The door to the booth was open, so he smelled her before he saw her: blood uncontaminated by alcohol, foundation, hairspray, metal, and a very faint vanilla-based perfume. The mixture stood out powerfully among the rest of the smells of the place, and it was not unpleasant at all, so he looked around for her. The girl in question must have been about twenty-five years old, and she was making her way through the crowd with determination and in a somewhat aggressive manner, as he couldn't help but notice. When she reached the bar, she leaned forward, highlighting the heart-shaped neckline of her dress and said something, trying to get the attention of the bartender, who ignored her as he continued to prepare cocktails.

“Did you see anything interesting, Tim?” asked Scott, the other guitarist in the band, seeing that his attention was elsewhere.

“Maybe,” he replied in a casual tone, trying not to sound too excited.

He pointed at her with his chin. The other three members of the band then looked at the girl, who was still trying to get served.

“Too muscular for my taste,” said Gober, the bass player.

Her arm muscles were certainly quite pronounced, though not so much so that she looked like she was a professional lifter, but more like someone who worked out often.

“Gym chicks take care of themselves, she sure tastes good," said Clay, the drummer.

“I saw her first,” said Tim defensively.

“We know, man, relax,” said Scott.

“And even if that wasn't the case, we'd bring her to you, it's your night,” added Clay.

The anniversary of a vampire's turning was an important day, or so he'd been told; it didn't seem to Tim to be any different from any other night of hunting, and it never did; unless his maker was there to host the party, of course.

“Would you rather go get her, or shall we bring her to you?” Gober asked.

“I'll go.”

Without taking his eyes off the girl, he got up, walked out of the booth and slipped through the crowd with little effort. He stood next to her and only then looked at the bartender.

“Hey, man, you have an unattended customer here,” he said.

“She can wait, just like everyone else,” the waiter replied without looking at him.

“I thought this was supposed to be an exclusive club,” the girl protested. “Is being rude part of the exclusiveness, or is it just your personality?”

“Ha, ha. Look, honey, I have a lot of cocktails to make, my co-worker is not here, so I also have to tend the bar in her place. Your drink is way down on my list of priorities, got it?”

The girl nodded and turned her back to the bar, seemingly resigned.

“I'm sorry,” Tim said.

“At least you tried,” she sighed. “I'm Sadie, by the way.”

“Tim,” he introduced himself. “Hey, if you want, my friends and I have drinks in our booth.”

“Shouldn’t you ask me for a dance first?” she joked.

“Would you like to dance?”

“Sure, why not?”

They danced for a while, though it was clear they'd both rather have been doing something else. Sadie seemed uncomfortable with his hands on her waist, and dancing was not Tim's favorite activity. After what he considered a reasonable amount of time, he invited her to go with him once more, and this time she accepted.

Taking her by the hand, he led the way through the crowd back to the relative silence of the booth; it was soundproofed so that only a third of the noise reached inside. Glass panels up to half-height let you see what was going on in the rest of the club, yet it could be turned into a private space just by closing a couple of curtains. It was a perfect place for a group of vampires to do their thing with some innocent girls. That night, however, Tim didn't feel like an audience, and he didn't want to share her either. Still, he introduced her to the others.

“Guys, this is Sadie. These are my friends: Scott, Clay and Gober.”

“Gober?”

“His name is also Clay,” Scott explained, “that's why we call him by his last name, to avoid confusion.”

“Oh, I see. Nice to meet you.”

“Guys, it occurs to me that maybe Tim and his new friend would like a little living space, maybe we should go for a walk, you know, see what's going on,” Gober suggested, getting up.

“Yeah, yeah, that's a great idea,” said Clay, mimicking him.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” said Scott.

The other vampires left, leaving her alone with Tim, who drew the curtains. It was good enough for her that he wanted privacy; by the time they returned, she would be long gone and the only trace of her presence there would be the corpse.

She had expected to have to use her charms to lure him in, and that things would have to get a bit physical for her to get close enough to stake him, though she hadn't expected to get his attention so quickly. She smiled at him as he poured her a glass of champagne, but didn't drink; she needed to be sober for what was coming.

“Are you from here?” He asked her, pouring himself another glass, but he didn't drink either.

“No, from Illinois,” she said, “and you?”

“From Texas. But you know how it is with music, you have to go where the money is.”

“It makes sense,” she replied. “So you're a musician... and those are your bandmates, I guess.”

“Exactly,” he confirmed.

As if she didn't know precisely who they were; she had followed them since their beginnings, when she was a teenager and Tim was still human. It wasn't until he made the switch that she realized they were all vampires at a show she went to, her first concert. She had been so excited to go to a concert, and felt herself explode with happiness when they appeared on stage... Maybe if she hadn't pushed her girlfriend to get closer to the front row, she would never have realized what they were. A mixture of anger and disappointment rose in her throat, threatening to overflow in the form of words. Swallowing down, she pushed them back inside her.

“And what are you celebrating?” she asked, looking at the display of expensive alcohol on the table.

“Oh, well, it's private,” he replied evasively. She arched an eyebrow in disbelief. “I'm just embarrassed.”

“Come on, it can't be that bad,” she encouraged him.

“It's my birthday.”

“Happy birthday!” she exclaimed, feigning as much enthusiasm as she was capable of. To give it a little more realism, she toasted him and pretended to take a sip of the champagne. “A birthday is a great thing, why didn't you want to tell me? Don't you like your birthdays?”

“It's not that, it's just... I don't know, after a certain point I think it's a bit silly to celebrate them, you know?” He said, shrugging. “I mean, when you're a kid it's okay, for the presents and stuff, but then it's a bit... meh.”

Sadie thought back to her own birthdays: every year since she was fourteen, her parents had gifted her some new weapon, and before that she'd barely get any toys, as her parents had preferred to give her books. They had encouraged her reading habit on purpose, since, in addition to high school, as a hunter she had had to pass some exams, both practical and theoretical.

“Yes, they can be,” she agreed. “Sorry, I didn't buy you anything.”

“That's all right. We could celebrate in another way,” he said, caressing her bare knee suggestively.

Her heart raced at the prospect of finally being able to kill him. She smiled wickedly before launching herself at him and beginning to kiss him voraciously.

It wasn't what Tim had expected, but he wasn't going to complain about her initiating it, was he? He was about to bite her when he felt it against the base of his sternum, hard and hot as red-hot iron.

“Silver,” he hissed.

The stake was more like a stiletto, narrow and sharp; enough to kill him if it ever pierced his heart. All she had to do was apply a little pressure, and he'd be dead... but she didn't do it. She looked him in the eye, frowning, and let out a grunt of frustration.

“Come on, what's stopping you?” He asked, showing his fangs as he spoke. “You got me now, kill me.”

“I can't,” said Sadie, pulling away sharply, the stake still in her hand. “I can't destroy so much talent.”

“So, you knew who I was, huh?”

“Of course I know! I've followed you guys from the beginning, and when I found out you'd let yourself be turned into a monster, I hated you. I hate you.”

“Bullshit. Deep down, you're just a groupie. You adore me,” he contradicted her.

Using his telekinetic powers, he snatched the stake from her. As the metal fell, clattering against the floor, he caught her, forcing her to lie on the couch. She struggled, but in the end, he was stronger, and managed to hold her back.

“Come on, what's stopping you?” she asked, mockingly, using his exact words. “You've got me now, kill me.”

Tim moved his lips to her neck, ready to feed on her blood, but when his fangs were already grazing her skin, he stopped.

“Fucking kill me now!” she exclaimed, a note of defiance in her voice.

“No,” he said, pulling back enough to look at her face, “I don't do that.”

“Kill me, I tell you!” she almost begged.

“No. A life for a life,” he said, getting off her.

“You're going to regret this,” she assured him, picking up the stake and putting it back in her boot.

“Probably you will too,” he replied.

She scowled at him intently before darting out the door of the booth. Tim slumped onto the couch, sighing.

With the music thundering in her ears after the relative silence of the booth, Sadie pushed her way through the crowd toward the door through which she had originally entered. She stumbled out into the alleyway, and leaning against the wall, breathed in the sour, putrid smell of garbage emitting from nearby dumpsters. That helped clear her nostrils of Tim's natural perfume, so sweet and alluring. Unfortunately, the stench also helped to accelerate the vomit rising in her throat.

She spat it to the side, her heart pounding in her chest, like a little bird wanting to escape from a cage. She stifled the scream of frustration that threatened to come out of her mouth, and then realized that she had left her purse in the booth. Feeling like breaking something, she took a deep breath, examining her options:

She couldn't go back in through the door she'd come out of, since it wouldn't open from that side unless she had a key, which she didn't have.

She couldn't go back in through the front door, because she didn't have a seal, and even if she could, she wasn't going back to the booth. No doubt Tim's friends had seen her leave, so they would have returned. By now, she was sure he had told them what had happened, and they probably wouldn't be so understanding.

She could only walk home and hope the scolding wasn't too much.

It took her all night to walk home from the club, taking obscure routes to avoid being seen by police. If there was one reason no one walked in Los Angeles, it's because it's not a city made for pedestrians. At least her boots weren't stiletto-heeled.

“Honey, what happened?” her mother asked when she saw her arrive, at about seven in the morning, disheveled and sweaty.

Her parents, Serena and Jonathan, her older brother, Jack, and the one after her, Luke, were eating breakfast in the kitchen. Her two younger siblings, Tony and Annalee, were nowhere to be seen, and Sadie assumed they were still asleep. Since they were still in high school, they were allowed a little more leniency with schedules, especially on weekends.

“Nothing. I couldn’t do it.”

“Well, don't worry, another opportunity will arise.”

“Of course. I'm going to sleep,” she announced.

Ignoring her mother's protests, she limped upstairs to her room and forced herself to remove her makeup and put on her pajamas before collapsing into bed and falling asleep almost instantly.

When she woke up it was almost three in the afternoon, and she was very hungry. She went down to the kitchen and opened the fridge, where her mother had left a portion of food in a container.

“You didn't have the guts, did you?” said Jack, the first-born son, three years older than her, behind her. “You had a chance, but you just couldn't do it.”

“Why are you saying that?” she asked, turning around with the container in her hand. She closed the fridge and sat down at the kitchen island, ready to eat like it was all right.

“Because I can't believe that you, Sadie, have beaten hundred-year-old vampires, but you haven't managed to take this one, who, according to all our data, doesn't exceed a decade of life.”

“The window closed too soon, okay?” She said defensively, “I miscalculated.”

“Yeah, right. Where's your purse?” Jack asked suddenly.

“What?”

“You didn't have it with you when you came in this morning,” her brother continued. “You left it there, didn't you? That's why it took you all night to get back. At least tell me you had one of the fake IDs on you.”

“Of course I had one of the fake IDs on me, I'm not an idiot, okay?”

“I hope so. I'll tell Dad we need to change the locks,” Jack sighed. “And I'll take care of that vampire.”

“No! Tim's mine.”

“Then don't screw it up next time.”

God, I'm the worst, Sadie thought.

The contents of Sadie's purse (if that was her real name) were scattered on Tim's bed. He examined the items, one by one: a very simple cell phone with barely any power left, a wallet with some cash, a Nevada driver's license, wet wipes, a bottle of alcohol-based hand sanitizer gel, shea butter hand cream, a sample of perfume that smelled vaguely of vanilla, a set of keys on a metal key ring that read " Souvenir from Pasadena," the keys to a car, and a small knife camouflaged as a key.

Tim hadn't told the others what had really happened in the booth. Instead, he had made up a story about how Sadie had refused to have sex with him and left before he could bite her. His friends had laughed for a while and then found him another girl to feed on. The rest of the night had gone well.

He didn't know why he had taken the purse home. It's not like he was going to return it, right? The address on the driver's license probably wasn't the current one, or wasn't even the real one, and even if it was, he wasn't dumb enough to show up at a house full of slayers. He should have let the club's employees take care of keeping it, in case she came back for it. Anyway, it was too late for that now.

Between the stake and the contents of her bag, there was no doubt in his mind that she was a professional vampire hunter: a normal girl wouldn't have a solid silver stake (even if it was as thick as an ice pick), nor would she be as skilled in fighting. Obviously, she was counting on the surprise factor to achieve her purpose, not just brute strength, which made him think she had been preparing for a long time to kill him. Nothing had been casual: the dress, makeup and footwear had been carefully chosen, and most likely the date as well.

She'd said she hated him, yet he'd detected something else on her lips (and in her scent) when she'd kissed him: desire, fervent and deep, and unless it turned her on to kill, he was sure it was for him.

Maybe we could get laid and then try to kill each other, he joked to himself. God, I'm the worst.

[lokisprettygirl]

Lose me to Love you (Loki x Female Reader) (AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 9 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 10

Summary: Jolene continues to be a menace. A secret you had kept comes out in the open.

Trigger Warning: Extreme dark themes, Sexual abuse, physical abuse, public sex, Rough violent sex, 18+, Steamy stuff, Rough language, mention of suicide, manipulative behaviour, mention of trauma, smut, toxic relationship between main characters. Dark themes, cult stuff.

He entered the secret underground den and it was all lit up with the flames of several torches, he saw his father on the throne, his brother was standing next to him with a sullen look in his eyes, that was never a good sign, everytime Thor looked at him that way he knew he'd be in trouble, on the other side stood the other employees Clint and James. They were carrying belts and floggers in their hands and that scared him. And then his eyes fell upon Mrs. Waldrof, she had joined the center 4 years ago, she seemed a bit drunk but definitely not out of her senses, her daughter Tricia was lying on the bed in the middle of the open space, she was all naked.

"You called for me father?" Loki asked him as his eyes teared up 

"Mrs. Waldrof here wanted her daughter to be blessed, it's our responsibility to purify her and deflowering is the first step into womanhood, you know that right Loki?" Loki nodded as his father questioned him, he didn't want to be beaten up today. It still hurt when they had flogged him last time. 

"I gave the responsibility to Thor but Tricia here had a request, she chose you to purify her" The evil grin Odin had on his face was enough of an indication, he wanted Loki to fuck Tricia in front of all these people, her own mother.

"I …I can't .. she's just ..father I am begging you..I can't" he got on his knees and started crying, Tricia crawled towards him and she caressed his head, that made him flinch in response.

"Hear that my children? He can't. What a disappointment and then he cries to his mother that I prefer Thor over him" Loki started to cry even harder as Odin belittled him. Not that it was his first time but it hurt the same everytime he was insulted by his father.

"Pleaseee Loki..I like you so much, I know you want me" Loki looked at the girl trying to seduce him, she shouldn't behave this way, they were the same age but she was a virgin and he definitely didn't want to do this in front of his family or hers.

She dragged him on the bed with him and then she took his shirt off, he was so scared, he couldn't get it up and they all laughed at him, she jerked him off with her hands and she tried to kiss him but he was too humiliated to even respond. He looked at her mother and she was smiling.

"Come on son, get it up you pathetic excuse of a man, fuck her" Odin yelled at him and then he gestured Clint. Loki winced as he felt the first hit on his bare back, it hurt, the hit was so hard that it must have broken his skin. Loki laid Tricia down and he tried to fondle his cock to harden himself up and then he entered her slowly. She winced in pain and he wanted to stop but as soon as he showed concern he got flogged again.

"Fuck her like a man, bless her Loki, you're a god, you're supposed to act like one" He started to go faster as he fucked her harder, his father's voice kept ringing in his ears "Hurt her, ridden her of past sins, hurt her Loki, do it, do it, you pathetic disgusting swine" 

He woke up with heavy breathing and your concerned form staring at him so he looked around, it was just a nightmare, he wasn't back in the den, he wasn't that same pathetic boy Odin had raised.

"What's wrong?" You asked him softly as you kissed his neck and held him tightly.

"Nothing…just get off me" he snapped at you suddenly and you were taken by surprise.

"Loki?" 

"I said..get the fuck off me" you looked at him shocked for a moment before you got off him and he immediately got up to storm out of your room. Did he have a nightmare? He seemed scared and you just wanted to comfort him but he didn't give you a chance.

He sat down on the couch as he tried to calm himself down, just a nightmare, he had to keep repeating it in his head to get out of that mental space. He haven't had such a vivid regressive nightmare in such a long time, years in fact, and now that he did he could clearly see that day and what he did with Tricia that night, that nightmare ended where it did but that day he didn't exactly stop there, he did hurt her and then she hurt him too, it was violent and bloody by the time they were done with each other, all this happened while her own mother sat there quietly enjoying the show and thought her daughter was being blessed by the gods. 

He went to his room and Jolene was sleeping thankfully so he went inside the bathroom and locked it. He sat down in the bathtub as he really wanted to shove those images deeper into his mind like he had done all this time. He didn't want to feel so weak again, he pulled his knees up to his chest and put his head down as he cried as silently as he could so no one would hear him but his tears kept coming.

It wasn't just that day he was reminded of but several other memories he had from his childhood kept haunting him. He wanted to be held and be told that he wasn't at fault here, that he had no other choice but he felt evil for doing things he had done. He should have been stronger, he should have fought harder, he shouldn't have done what Odin wanted him to do but he was so pathetic like Odin said. 

After getting dressed you came out of the room and tried to find him but he wasn't in the living room, did he go to Jolene? You had no idea but you sat down on the couch and waited for him. About an hour later he came out, freshly showered wearing just a pair of black sweatpants. He didn't even look at you, he made his way to the kitchen instead so you followed him.

"Lokii are you okay?" 

"Absolutely..what do you want?" He asked you sternly and it made you tear up. The softness was gone, it was good while it lasted.

"I just.. you seem hurt" he looked at you and chuckled as you said that 

"Weak people get hurt you know.. people like you...not me" he mumbled as if he didn't even care that his words would bother you deeply.

"I just wanted to…nevermind" you turned around and stormed towards your room. After he heard your door shutting violently he groaned as he bashed his fist onto the countertop. He should have filtered his mouth but he never could in moments like this, that was one of the things that ruined things between him and Jolene. He always apologized to her but it wasn't enough. How could it be? She didn't deserve his cruelty and neither did you, especially not you of all people, you came out of the same hell as he did, he never should have said that to you. 

He tried to distract himself and decided to prepare breakfast and when he was done he went to your room, you were brushing your hair so he got behind you and held you like that.  He wanted to tell you that he got scared by a nightmare but what kind of man would he be if he did that? He shared a few things from his past with his ex wife and it only drove her further away from him, he survived that but he could never survive losing you. 

"I made breakfast" he whispered in your ear then he pressed a soft kiss on your earlobe making you sigh in response. 

"Not hungry" you mumbled as you still felt hurt by what he had said. 

"Okay give me that" he grabbed the brush from your hand and then walked you towards the bed to make you sit down, then he started to brush your hair. Reminded you of that day at the center when you wanted to go to the fair and he did your hair for you because your mommy was too busy with her therapy session and your daddy was out getting high and drunk somewhere.

He parted your hair from the center and started to work on braiding one side of your hair first,

"What do you want me to do baby?" He asked you so you glared at him 

"Apologize maybe?" 

"Okay, want to watch a movie after work today?" He asked you so you shook your head, he secured the braid with a tie before he moved on to the other side 

"What about your wife? Is–" 

"Ex wife" you huffed as he corrected you

"Is she going to join us? Because if yes then I'm not interested" 

He sighed as you said that.

"Come eat breakfast..we have to go"  He didn't say anything after that, once he was done securing the braids he leaned down to kiss your forehead then he left, you really didn't want to upset him further but he started it. 

As you all reached the set, you immediately stormed away from them, there was an actress a little bit older than you who had a scene or two with Peter and she immediately caught Loki's eyes. There it was again, the fucked up cycle you could never get out of, now with his ex wife in the mix it only got more awkward. 

The actress Layla was salivating after him as well, so once her shot was done and she was on a break she took off with Loki and you didn't need a third person to tell you where they went to. 

You could see Jolene looking upset by the prospect so you sat down next to her

"It hurts right?" You chuckled so she glared at you.

"So you must enjoy sharing him like this huh? Makes sense when you were such a whore yourself at the orphanage" your eyes teared up as she said that "Ohh you think I didn't hear about John? And those other guys?" She snickered but you wouldn't let her insult you anymore, she had no right to complain when she had hurt him like that.

"You know nothing so quit acting as if you know me or him for that matter, how many years you spent with him? Two? Three? You married him during the lovey dovey stage of your relationship and when he started to give himself to you..you fucking abandoned him" Your name was being called so before she could retort you got up and left her to stew within her anger.

 "Oh my goddd yess oh fuck yeahhh" the girl he couldn't remember the name of screamed in ecstacy so he placed his palm on her mouth, he didn't want a repeat of last time, his hips thrusted in and out of her slowly and then he increased his pace,

"Hurt me" 

"What???" She looked him a little surprised by his request 

"Just hurt me.. However you want alright?" he whispered in her ear before he sucked on her neck harshly so she gripped his hair in her fist and it made him moan in response, she took his shirt off and her nails scratched through his chest so harshly that it broke his skin. 

"Mmmm choke me daddy please" she whimpered against him so he obliged, how could he not, she wanted this afterall. His hand wrapped around her throat as he fucked her mercilessly, she moaned as he made her breathless in every possible way but he knew his limits, he knew how much she needed this.

They all did, they needed him to be this way and he couldn't fuck a woman without getting himself hurt or hurting her, even Jolene was into this and he thought he had gotten luckier, he enjoyed the soft lovemaking too but he hated how weak it would make him feel afterwards. He felt emotional, he fell in love, he cared about her, everything that his father taught him to not do in life he went against it to prove him wrong but what was the point? She still left him because no matter what he does in life now he'd always be that fucked up predator who had ruined those girls at the cult.

As he zipped himself up after the deed, she ran her fingers over the marks that she had left behind.

"Wow you are something…where were you all my life?" She smiled so he chuckled in response. However as she looked at the hickey on her neck she got upset 

"Fuck now I have to cover this" she groaned and he rolled his eyes.

"That's why I don't fuck actresses..Well get out of my way now" he walked past her leaving her surprised, shocked, offended all at once. His phone started ringing so he picked it up, he had found a place for Jolene so on the way back from work he took you both there, you could tell she wasn't happy because she wanted to stay with him and she wanted to win him over again. 

"It's small but it's just a matter of few days..I hope that's alright?" He asked her hesitantly so she smiled which was as fake as her nails were. He told her that he'd bring her stuff tomorrow and she insisted on going for a dinner together which only made you roll your eyes again. As all of you were walking down the stairs somehow she managed to slip and fell down, for a moment you were absolutely terrified and worried but as Loki picked her up and her eyes met with yours, that smile was enough to tell you what she was doing.

"She can take care of herself right?" You asked Loki as she was getting patched up at the hospital.

"I can't just leave her alone in this condition y/n" he told you strictly and that made you sigh. That's what she knew he'd do and she did it all on purpose.

So after all that nonsense she still ended up in your apartment, even worse now that Loki was helping her everywhere as she supposedly couldn't walk on her own.

At night you were browsing through the Facebook, stalking Jolene's profile obviously, she didn't have any pictures of Loki in there which confused you. She had all kinds of pictures except of Loki's, you heard a knock on your door but you didn't respond so he entered anyways. 

"Your ex wife doesn't have a single photo with you. How come?" You asked him as he got into the bed next to you, he peaked at the laptop screen and shook his head, what was his life now? He wasn't doing anything right, ever since Odin escaped things had only gotten worse, though he couldn't deny that you two had your sweet moments.

Sometimes he truly did wish for sex to just not exist so he could just love you and keep you close without having to label your relationship or what you two meant to each other, sex ruined everything, always, and he knew he'd lose your constant interest in him once he has given you everything.

"She told me once to not tell her friends about my past, that could be the reason" you looked at him as he said that. She was ashamed of his past. What a bitch!!! "I never cared about it, social media is superficial anyways" he mumbled in a nonchalant manner.

"Huhh? says the guy who watches puppy videos on repeat" his cheeks flushed as you said that, he was embarassed to say the least.

"No need to make lies" he picked up the laptop and placed it on the side drawer so you would stop stalking Jolene.

"How's her fake injury?" 

"It's not fake sweetheart" 

"Whatever" 

As he took his shirt off you noticed the red scratch marks, bite marks and several bruises on his chest.

"Layla said you sucked at sex and your cock is two inches long" he chuckled as you said that, he must have pissed her off greatly for her to be so upset with him.

"I don't care sweetheart" he smirked as he grabbed your hand and placed it on his clothed bulge "See .. so much bigger than your fucking petite hands" he whispered as he looked into your eyes and your throat went dry instantly. Teasing whore.

"Do you care about anything?" You gulped as you asked him, he made no effort to place your hand away from his cock, that you could feel was starting to grow bigger because of your touch. 

"I care about you" he whispered as he cuddled you closer to him, you stroked him up and down slowly and he stifled a moan that was going to spill from his throat "Such a naughty girl" he mumbled softly as he swatted your hand away from his member, your lips latched onto his neck as you tried to kiss each and every bruises one by one 

"What happened today? You had a nightmare?" His eyes teared up as you questioned him, he was about to get up but you got on top of him and pinned him underneath your body. 

"I don't get nightmares" you smiled as he said that, he was lying ofcourse but you didn't want to upset him anymore. 

"I do" 

"I know baby" 

"Guess that makes me weak" your eyes teared up so he sighed.

"I apologized for that" 

"Nooo you offered to watch a movie" 

"Same thing" he cupped your cheeks and pulled himself up so he could kiss your forehead then he laid down again.

You turned the lights off and laid down next to him but you made sure to undress first, he left the panties on yesterday but you took it off as well, it's not as if he hasn't seen it all before. He snickered at the game you wanted to play knowing very well that once he played his cards he'd leave you a quivering drenched mess. He took his sweatpants off and even in the dark room you could see the outline of his cock standing up for attention, and gosh you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to touch him, stroke him, suck him in your mouth and pleasure him until he was screaming your name.

"Fuckkkk" you muttered under your breath as he scooted you closer to him, he was walking on a slippery slope he knew that, he was so close to losing his self control tonight when you laid there all bare for him and when you smelled so good.

"I do admire your patience darling, you're such a patient girl" he whispered in your ear and your response left him shocked and confused, it can't be, you have been in relationships before, those boys at the orphanage, that man you went out with against his permission on your 19th birthday, you must have done it right?

"Well being a virgin pays off in such situations" 

As soon as he heard your response he got off the bed and put his clothes on, then he stormed out, he had alot to think about the perceptions he had made about you until now.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

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[ivy-loves-chocolate]

A marriage ends - chapter two

Note: This chapter is pure smut, with some angst elements. I hope you'll like it nonetheless. You can read the first chapter here.

Pair: F!Reader x Albert Wesker x Chris Redfield.

Tags: smut, angst, crying, vaginal sex, oral sex, masturbation.

Note: if you like what I'm writing and wish to support/commission me you can do it on my ko-fi page. Thank you!

“It’s settled then.” He said it in a forcedly cheerful tone as he unbuttoned his shirt.  

It’s the first time Wesker has had some sort of power since this affair started, and it surely felt that way in the room as neither of you said anything against his wishes. You obliged, and thus the perverted act began. 

Wesker tossed the shirt on the floor, revealing his sculpted body. Years of running after criminals and police training made him look like a God, and once you got a glimpse of him, you couldn’t look away. 

He climbed on top of you once again, resuming his action like nothing happened. Chris could only watch as your husband took you one more time. Feeling bad for him, you looked at Chris, murmuring an “I’m sorry” quickly before returning your attention to your husband. You felt bad for him, but in the end, it’s your fault, and you shouldn't have known Albert would figure it out sooner or later.

Albert kissed you with the same tenderness, and this time you didn’t feel cornered. You tilted your neck, giving your husband more space to caress your neck just as you like it. He made a trail of kisses that started from top to bottom, and then his tongue would lick your skin, a sensation that gave you goosebumps. You wrapped your arms around his back and pulled him closer, and upon feeling the closure, his kisses turned into gentle bites. He would move his head on both sides of your neck, making sure he wouldn’t miss a part. While doing so, he would slowly began to rub himself between your crotch, so you could feel his bulge and know how much he yearns to be inside you. 

You spread your legs even further to give him space to play. 

Before moving on, he bit you hard enough to give you a bruise, which resulted in a loud moan that echoed in the room. Seeing this scene made Chris horny, so he palmed his erection through his jeans. 

Wesker’s lips moved lower until they reached your cleavage. He rubbed his nose between your breasts, inhaling your scent, which was a mix of your natural musk and a hint of Chris’ cologne. Upon smelling the latter, he let out a low grunt and removed your shirt, exposing your breast to him. If you could see his face, you’d find out that he is looking at your chest with an expression of bitterness and desire because he knows it’s the last time you’ll be like this for him. You were about to say something, but Wesker’s mouth made contact with your breast, and instead you let out a sharp exhale. His mouth remained glued as his tongue twirled around your hard nipple, in slow motions. The other hand massaged the other one, his palm rubbing against the nipple. You threw your head back, and as the pleasure increased, the guilt slowly left your body. 

Chris unbuckled his belt and slid his hand inside, pulling out his hardened cock and gently stroking it.

The once-silent room was now filled with sucking noises and soft moans as Wesker kept lowering himself over your body. Being grateful for the attention he gave your chest, you pulled him in for a kiss, but after your lips touched a few times, he abruptly pulled out. He wasn’t ready yet, as he still felt resentment over what you'd done. Instead, he focused on kissing your body, where Chris’ smell was less and less present as he didn’t have time to taint you. The more he would lower himself, the weaker you’d become, knowing damn well what he was after. He would kiss and lick the skin as he went down.

Wesker placed one last kiss right on the pubic bone before pulling you to the edge of the bed. Then he dropped to his knees and removed your shorts and panties.

“God damn I’m gonna miss this….” He said as his fingers toyed with your pussy, going up and down, spreading and closing your labia. The little friction it caused on your clit made you whimper and arch your back. 

“Albert…” before you could finish your sentence, pressing his mouth over your warm and wet core. He began to kiss your clit and to suck it so slowly because he wanted to take his time with you. Then his hands moved to grab your thigh, leaving only his mouth to play. 

When he switched from kissing to tongue-play, you let out a long, sharp exhale, followed by soft moans. His tongue traveled in circle motions around your clit, and then he used the tip to cross it up and down. He made every move possible to make you squirm, moan, and basically to let as much juice as you could over his tongue as the mere taste of it turned him into a madman. 

He kept himself buried like that, increasing the pace based on the intensity of your moans. 

“Albert…” You cried out feeling overwhelmed by his tongue play on your core. As a result, you grabbed his hair and pulled him by the hair, so close that it almost suffocated him. It didn’t bother him; in fact, he decided to add two fingers inside you, which were very welcomed by your throbbing cunt. He inserted them slowly, and as they kept sliding in, Albert couldn’t help but moan as he enjoyed the warmth. You, on the other hand, gasped and let out a loud grunt, grabbing the sheets with the free hand for support. While you were high on the clouds thanks to what Wesker was doing, you took a quick glance at Chris. Pants were down, his cock was hard and the hand around it was stroking at a medium pace, resulting in beads of cum to come out and smear the flesh. You wanted to put that cock in your mouth and lick it clean, and you also thought it was a shame that his precum was wasted like that. A dirty thought occurred in your mind—that of a threesome with these two—but it wasn’t something that was going to happen in the near future. 

Feeling that you might not pay attention anymore, Wesker inserted a third finger, which made your toes curl. You felt full, so full, and you felt your orgasm approaching as he curled his fingers inside you.

Wesker loved to feel you throb around his fingers like that, he loved when you’d spill your juice all over his face, but that wasn’t his goal for tonight. Sensing that you might approach your orgasm, he pulled them out slowly, making you whimper in protest. You didn’t like the sudden cold, but Wesker was quick to fill you back up again. Upon hearing his zipper being pulled down, you spread your lips for him with two fingers. You look at him with your big (y/c) eyes that express pure desire and eagerness, waiting to be filled again. 

His cock sprung free from his pants, and with a few quick motions, he tossed his clothes aside and climbed back on the bed, positioning himself between your legs. His wet tip was at your entrance, teasing your throbbing cunt with extremely slow motions. Chris’ eyes widened when he saw Albert’s shaft, as it was above average and very thick, and he got even more excited when he saw him towering above you. There was a significant height difference between you and Wesker, who was a giant compared to your smaller frame. 

Wesker didn’t move as he looked down at you. He stared at you with a saddened look over his face, while his hand went to caress your forehead. He wanted to say something, but the words just didn’t come out of his mouth. 

You cupped his face, and your fingers began to caress his cheeks. You locked eyes for a few seconds before he buried his head at the crotch of your neck, moment you hugged him tight. He began to push his cock slowly inside, stretching your muscles in a pleasant way thanks to the oral sex you received. Your swollen cunt began to throb once more after he inserted the entire length inside, making you feel full, almost on the verge of exploding.Because of this sensation, you held onto him very tightly, and you began to kiss portions of his neck that were accessible to your mouth. He seemed to enjoy it because he picked up the pace, going in and out with his entire length and bruising against your sweet spot.

Chris enjoyed hearing you two moan, so much that he felt like coming every second now, but whenever he’d feel his climax approaching, he slowed down, as he wanted to cum simultaneously with you. 

Wesker made up his mind about kissing you, and with one quick motion, he grabbed your chin, holding your head in a pretty tight position, and kissed you for one last time. It was a sloppy kiss, where he tried to relieve those many moments from your marriage into a single one, to reconnect with the woman he lost in favor of another man. He closed his eyes and imagined that he had never caught you, that the man he had caught wasn't on the chair masturbating at the sight of you making love, that you were still doing it in your intimacy, and that your mouth was still his, all in an attempt to keep from crying. On the other hand, you tried to keep up with him and breathe as his tongue invaded your mouth in a ruthless way. 

“Why…?” He whispered between kisses. 

“I-I’m sorry…” you said in a trembling voice.

As he was kissing you, he picked up the pace, the sound of his balls hitting your wet cunt was heard in the room along with your moans. The quicker he’d go, the harder you’d feel him throbbing inside you. Also, you were approaching your end too, as he was hitting both your spot and clit with his fast and deep thrusts. 

“Albert, I-“ 

“I know…” he said between kisses.

Chris picked up the pace too, being the first to come. He closed his eyes, feeling hot, white spurts of cum landing on his bare chest and hand. You clenched around Wesker, reaching your orgasm as your body began to tremble because of the intensity. Wesker buried himself at the crotch of your neck once again as he came inside you. You hugged him tight, and he did the same, remaining inside you for a few minutes. Chris watched the two of you in silence. 

Wesker began to sob quietly near your ear, and you ran your fingers through his hair as a comforting gesture. 

“Why?” He asked again between sobs, his hot tears running down your neck as well. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to end up here.” You felt tears coming down your face too, despite trying not to cry. You held him tight and kissed him, trying to calm him down. 

An embrace that once soothed him now makes him angry and sorrowful. When he felt he had calmed down a little, he whipped his face over the sheet and got up, picking up his clothes and going to the bathroom, leaving you and Chris alone. 

“Is everything alright with him?” Chris asked, concerned. 

“I don’t think so.” You replied, waiting for your soon-to-be ex-husband to come out. 

I know this may not be everyone’s favorite cup of tea (mostly because of this version of Wesker, which doesn’t fit with the one we all have in mind), but this is an AU after all, where I wanted to humanize him and make him suffer just to satisfy my sick pleasure lol. It's just a matter of personal preference, of how I liked to write him in this story. Either way, I hope you still enjoyed it.

Taglist: @shadow-wolf510 @cassie-todd

[space-mermaid-writing]

The witchling and the god [Loki x Witch!Reader] Chapter 31

Summary: The Avengers were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak. He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. The Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision. This is now your job. Why? Because you’re a witch. You’re not sure why this qualifies you, but here you are, giving it a shot. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Witch!Reader, Magic, Witches, slow burn, everybody lives in the tower, character development, Loki‘s redemption, Stephen Strange is a friend, Loki and Stephen are frenemies, Tony Stark is a good bro, kids love Loki, Tony has stupid nicknames for everybody, eventual smut

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter’s Note: We're slowly approaching the end of this story. It feels weird because this became a big part of my tumblr dailies | Check out the Witchling Art tag |Beta by @zaria-04

Chapter 31: Loose ends

Loki wearing his full Asgardian leather armor has become a rare sight. He became accustomed to Midgardian fashion or sometimes wore a combination of both. But now he chose his green and black armor, stepping onto the roof level of the tower where the Quinjet is located. He's never flown it before, but how hard can technology from Earth be to operate? All he has to do is take off before Stark notices what he is doing.

Ideally, Loki would like to travel another way, but the Sorcerer Supremes' deadline of three days is running out. He doesn't have much time left.

He steps to the ramp of the jet when a noise makes him whirl around.

"You really think you can just sneak off like that?" You look at him with your arms crossed and your eyebrow raised. You had told Jarvis to let you know if Loki tries anything of the sort, and you're proven right.

"I thought you were at your cottage."

"I was. I picked up a few things." You wiggle your fingers, each one of which has a ring with a spell stored on it. Additionally, you shouldered your bag. "I'm coming with you," you announce before Loki can object. "This is about Daegal, isn't it? He knows a lot of things about us."

The witch knows a dangerous amount. About you and Loki but also about your family, your siblings. And he's proven to be a revengeful opponent.

Loki steps down the ramp of the jet toward you. "You said a witch shouldn't kill another witch, love. But that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"I know." Your voice is low. "I thought about it. I thought maybe a strong forgetting spell would be enough. But he broke through it last time. He's too dangerous for us to stay alive. We've seen what he's capable of. I love you for not wanting to put that burden on me, but I made my choice. Even if I'm not happy about it – it needs to be done."

You're not taking chances. Not when it comes to Loki's secret. Normally you would prefer a non lethal solution, but Daegal made it personal.

The Asgardian looks at you and sees your determination. It would have been easy for you to let him go alone. He would have taken care of it, you wouldn't have had to lift a finger. He wouldn't have blamed you.

But you can’t ignore the danger and you're willing to take it into your own hands. Even if it goes against your heart. It's a trait not many possess: courage. And the prince respects that.

"Okay," he finally nods. "As long as you're absolutely sure."

"I am." You pull a Sharpie from your pocket. "Besides, that bastard was in my head. I can track him down faster than you." And traveling by a ritual circle also makes you less nauseous.

It elicits a chuckle from Loki. "But you should change into something more suitable." With a flick of his hand, your clothes change and the next second you're also wearing some kind of Asgardian armor. You look down at yourself in amazement. It's not as heavy as Loki’s or Thor’s, but still covers most of your skin and it's surprisingly comfortable.

"You look fierce."

"I feel like a warrior." Maybe you should make use of Loki's outfit changing skills more often in the future. You remember the last time he did that. Back when he was still under observation and Shield agents stood guard at the prince's suite. So much time has passed since then. Loki has changed a lot. Or maybe he's finally back at his own self.

You turn to the Quinjet. "Could you even fly this?"

"I promise you, no harm would come over you, should we take the jet," Loki replies sincerely.

"I didn't hear a 'yes'. You’re lucky I have safer means of travel. You probably would have crashed that thing if I hadn't come here."

"My lady doubts me." There is that gleam to his eyes, his stance theatrically exaggerated as he lies his hands on his chest and gives you a faux-aggrieved look. He knows that you are just as aware of the fact that he is a trickster, and it only seems to delight him further.

Shaking your head, you start drawing runes on the floor.

~~

Daegal enters his loft. He recently moved to Portland, managing his business in California online now. After everything that had happened, it was necessary to put some distance between himself and Los Angeles. But it also had its advantages. Rents are cheaper here - not that he needs it. He has enough money for a lifetime or two.

Portland is liberal enough that his tattoos rarely get noticed. It’s no more than an appreciative nod every now and then. Sometimes a 'those are dope, man'.

He takes off his jacket and with a snap of his fingers he turns on the gas flame of his stove. The kettle on it is magically filled with water. It's already late in the evening, but he still has enough work to do that a coffee is worthwhile. And Daegal is hipster enough to make it by hand without any fancy machine. He needs to call a business partner, but maybe he'll put that off until tomorrow.

The curtains close as he steps into the kitchen. His loft is an open concept, modern and sleek. He likes this style, but still keeps some older pieces in his furniture that have been in his possession for decades.

When he said he makes his coffee by hand, he meant by magic. Everything moves on its own, as if rehearsed. He could do it in his sleep - sometimes he does that, to be greeted by a cup of coffee first thing in the morning when he wakes up.

With a mug in his hand he turns to his couch, where he left his laptop – and stops rooted to the spot when he sees someone sitting there.

Loki's gaze is on him. "Good evening, Daegal." His voice is dark velvet, soothing, almost too calm for this kind of meeting. The edge in it is more like an underlying feeling, a promise of danger, than actually noticeable.

A green flow emits from his hand and the coffee mug that slipped from Daegal's grip stops falling mid-air and levitates to the table without spilling a drop.

"Please take a seat."

The witch whirls around in the attempt to dash to the door, but you are standing behind him and he jostles right into you. A brief scuffle ensues between the two of you. You are prepared for it and better equipped than the last time you two met. Daegal casts a spell, one of his tattoos begins to glow. Reacting quickly, you stop him. His movements are familiar to you. He was in your head and even if you were the one being possessed, he left his mark.

Also, it’s two against one.

Loki lets the gem that started the enmity between the three of you hover over his open palm. "You were looking for this?"

It draws Daegal's attention to the Asgardian.

"It belongs to me! You stole it from me!" He manages to land a nasty blow on Loki, who stumbles back.

Enraged, you kick the witch in the back of his knees from behind so that he falls and yank him up by the hair. "Do something like that again, and you'll be so cursed that your ancestors will feel it." Your grip is firm, you activate one of your magic rings and use it to keep Daegal on his knees.

With a flick of his second hand, Loki makes the remaining parts of Bloodweeper appear.

"You have no idea what this is. What you messed with," he warns the witch. He moves his fingers together and with them the pieces of the sword. The cold flame of the glowing blue blade appears, vibrating excitedly as if it is looking forward to being wielded. Its ability to weep blood is a result of its thirst for it.

For the first time, there is something like panic on Daegal's face; he senses the power emanating from the weapon. He tries to free himself from your grip, but without success.

Loki steps in front of him. "You see," he says viciously, "after everything you did, my lovely lady probably still feels sorry for everything that happened. But I am not." Loki catches your gaze, waiting for your signal as he continues talking. You nod, barely noticeable. "I'm mostly annoyed. Annoyed and angry that you dared to touch her."

He strikes and quickly beheads the witch.

You avert your eyes, but feel the moment when the weight of the head you're still holding suddenly lightens and you hear the muffled 'plumb' as the body falls on the ground. Quickly you let go of the head.

There's nothing to sugarcoat; this has been an execution. Simple and cold-blooded.

Loki steps up to you - he has taken the sword back apart and stowed its individual parts in his pocket dimension – and gives you a kiss on your forehead. You look up at him and then down at the lifeless body next to you. A puddle of blood has formed on the floor, growing larger and larger. Blood is also on your hands, figuratively and literally.

Daegal is dead and he has taken your secrets and knowledge with him. A witch is usually a little harder to kill than an average human, but in the end it's just another mortal being. And you know ways and means to make sure that the body is not misused for magical purposes afterwards. They are not nice methods, but Death never is.

You summon a sacred fire on the body. It does not spread onto the furniture, not even to the floor. There's no smoke, no smell of burning flesh and just for that you are very thankful. If you touched the flames, they wouldn't be hot, but it burns the witch to his last bone.

You don’t speak while watching the fire. It's faster than it should be. Sacred fire is merciless, purges its target thoroughly until not even ashes remain.

As the flames go out, you breathe a sigh of relief. It's as if a veil has been lifted. There had been some lasting doubt, that the witch is truly defeated. But now he can no longer harm you.

"I don't want to go back yet," you admit, and it's the first words you've spoken to Loki since you entered the loft.

Loki turns his head to the windows hidden by the curtains. He had seen the view before Daegal arrived. "Do you want to go to the ocean?"

It has always had a calming effect on him. You like the suggestion too, and nod.

With one last look at the spot where Daegal vanished, you swear to yourself that you will never steal from a witch again. In this spiral of an eye for an eye, there is no winner. Only an eternal circle of inconveniences and death. It's not worth it. You have learned your lesson and it’s not your proudest moment.

Loki takes your hand and the next moment you are gone from the apartment. Several days will go by before Daegal's disappearance will be noticed. There will be no trace to you or Loki, you two made sure of that.

The beach lies deserted in front of you. Still, you don't feel alone, because you have each other. You have the sand under your shoes and the breeze in your hair. Your hand is still in Loki's. He and the soft sound of the waves soothe you. You feel like there should be tears, but there's nothing. Nothing, but a light regret about how things ended.

The ocean is dark - it's hard to tell where it ends and the sky begins - but the city is full of light, even in the middle of the night. There is something peaceful about it. The air is refreshing and despite the lack of sleep, you're not tired. It feels like the beginning of something new. There is something very calming about this feeling. You could spend an eternity here.

"Do you regret it?" you suddenly ask Loki. "Living on Midgard."

The Asgardian turns his face to you in the darkness and stops walking. Instead, though, you feel his fingers under your chin, gently tilting your head up so he can look at you.

"It may be the best thing that ever happened to me," he whispers and kisses you sweetly.

His fingers slide up effortlessly to stroke your cheek. How could you ever grow tired of this man?

All too quickly, he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours, his arm encircling your waist.

“It is?” you reply quietly, your voice no more than a murmur. Because this is a different confession of love.

Loki laughs softly, pressing another quick kiss to your lips and pulling back to look in your eyes. “Of course. You have stolen my heart like no one else.” A new light comes into his eyes, a sparkle you have never seen before and in this instant you just know. You’re truly blessed by this god. He came onto Earth and made you his devoted follower. A believer.

"What do you think about moving in together?" It's a thought you've had for a while. It's probably long overdue. "Traveling between the cottage and the tower became difficult lately. I'd like it if we lived together."

"You mean an apartment together in the tower?" Loki doesn't seem averse to the idea.

"Yes." You hesitate only slightly before making another suggestion. "Or somewhere else. A small house, wherever you want. We can set up a door portal to the tower and we'd be in New York in no time to play hero."

Loki doesn't miss the mischief in your last words and he chuckles. "That sounds wonderful. A house it is." You feel his warm breath on your lips before he kisses you again.

"Let‘s head back home and bring the sword to the Sorcerer Supreme, before he shows up and throws me in the third circle of hell."

Now it's your turn to chuckle. "Can't risk that."

_____________________

Sometimes love is about having good sex and committing unspeakable acts of violence for one another. Couples who slay together, stay together.

This is the character death y’all were stressing about. It’s an important part of the story because the Witchling does the one thing she never wanted to do: kill another witch.

Tag List: @lokisgoodgirl @lokixryss @itsybitchylittlewitchy @yokshi-unbeliebubble @fictional-hooman @elennair @all-envy-suyu @purplekitten30 @elisadmaggiore @nothing2113 @ceo-of-stfu @moonlightreader649 @ronipiamka @fluffybunnyu @ninjarose23 @ozymdias @huntress-artemiss @sofi786 @thedistractedagglomeration @rosaline-black @msrawog @moonlightreader649 @paetonnn @eldriidd @r4inlov3r @eleniblue @eleniblue @maeisonline @marvel-love24 @sinsandguilt @kalinaselennespeaks @ohtellmelove @eleniblue @hyojin-2579 @just-someone11 @marygoddessofmischief @fall-myriad @melavoris @baebeepeach

[snnynaturalarch]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN!

Name: lumi!

Pronouns: she/her

Most Active Muses: sonny on this blog and on @snnydcys , @greatcstarcher is second , i do have other blogs that you can find here

RP Pet Peeves: oh god, to list a few...

plagiarism. whether it be a character or a plot idea, don't steal from anybody. people work hard on their characters and plots. i understand not many plots can be considered original, but everyone comes up with their own twists. stop stealing.

lack of respect for female characters both canon and oc. i can't say enough that female muses deserve to be seen. especially poc female muses.

white washing. as a poc person, i have dealt with a lot of racism both irl and on tumblr. it was to a point i took two years off of this hellsite. so do not change a poc character into a white one. we've been erased as it is. and if you struggle trying to match a character to its race, do not feel afraid to ask someone for help on it. there are also websites that show you an fc's ethnicity as well.

not knowing where the line is between mun and muse. they are two completely different things.

god modding. for the love of all that is chuck, do not control what anyone else's character does. we all control our own characters and that's how it should be. this also means doing something crazy that someone else may not approve of so if you want to do something, ask first.

demanding people read your rules, but you don't do the same. everyone has different rules for each of their blogs. respect goes both ways. so if they read your rules, please do the same. they are there for a reason.

force ship, simple as that

anon hate. seriously, that kind of negativity should never be welcomed nor encouraged. we all come here to escape as it is so just let everyone have fun writing.

lack of communication. we're all grown adults here. if there's a problem, just communicate.

trash talking someone's portrayal. realistically, we all interpret canon characters differently than others and that is okay. no one's version is right or wrong. no one is the "chanel/walmart" version. just don't rp with that portrayal if you don't want to.

rushing people to reply and shaming them when they don't reply fast enough. everyone has real lives and can't always get to it. or maybe they don't just have muse for it and need time away from it. now a simple nudge to let someone know they replied maybe weeks later just in case they missed it is fine. but if you're going to put pressure on people? stop.

using mental health as an excuse to be a shitty person. many people here suffer with different kinds of disorders and that is no one's fault. but that does not mean it's a pass to be a horrible person. you choose how to treat people around you. you choose whether or not to be a kind person.

i can go on and on, but we don't have time for that so here is the rest of the list on the top of my head for now: self victimizing, ignoring triggers, trying to control your rp partners, bullying, hovering, spreading lies about people, gate keeping, face chasing, racism, not understanding boundaries, not understanding that rping is a hobby and not a jobby, ect.

Experience/How Many Years: a long as time that for the earlier years... i shouldn't have JBESGKBKB

Fluff, Angst, or Smut: yes. i love both angst and fluff so much, but if for example i am doing too much angst, i would want a break for fluff so that way there is time for me to breathe. for smut, as long as i'm comfortable with you, i'll do it. but if i don't know you or have never written with you before, i most likely won't.

Plots or Memes: i love memes that inspire plotting. cause as much as i love plotting, sometimes i don't know what i actually want. unless a plot randomly hits me out of nowhere.

Long or Short Replies: depends on my brain. short replies are fun for crack and silly things, but longer threads for actually plots and things.

Time to Write: when my brain feels like it! i don't force myself to write if i don't want to.

Are You Like Your Muses: i would say i am in a way. more than i realized? more so her disney canon version. we both give are all to the people we love and care about, even if it means never putting ourselves first. being clumsy ekbrkg. we both get walked all over by people that we love. she's not afraid to be herself and stand up for herself, which i'm not afraid of being myself but i'm working on standing up for myself more.

tagged by @rebuiltmyself ( my bb <3 )

tagging : youuuuuuu

[feral-childs-word]

FINALLY SOMEONE TALKING ABOUT THIS.

I want to say personality to those who survived that I'm proud that you made it this far. You managed to do the impossible and managed to survive and still thrive even when your mental health isn't okay. Keep thriving people be the person to outlive the ones who did it to you and laugh at there grave.

Now on to the topic. R@pe isn't okay. It's disgusting and sad with how many people read and enjoy this. It shouldn't even be written at ALL.

People those who enjoy r@pe isn't okay they are sick in the head and need help. It's not a way or coping for those survivors who read those type of things.

Dark romance and smut do NOT go good with r@pe. It's basically saying that you are fine with r@pe.

Now I seen some comments on this post saying "oh it's just fanfiction." It isn't just fanfiction. It's sad excuse that you enjoy it. AO3, Wattpad, and even Tumblr has allot of r@pe fics.

Teenagers and adults who enjoy this nasty shit seek help fr. Especially those who write it seek some fucking help.

I've seen so much god damn r@pe smut to the point I'm scared to even look at the fandoms I enjoy.

And as a minor it's really uncomfortable to even look for fics without smut. And I'm told say "oh go use Wattpad. I don't think this app is for you then. Or why don't you block it?" Shut up man you don't know when to shut up trying to defend this shit.

Those writers don't tag good enough and I can't block the blahs because writers don't tag smut. (Fr start tagging correctly. If you don't want minors to be interacting tag SMUT DAMN it isn't hard to tag that is it?)

Be so fr you are sick to the head and need actual help go talk to a damn therapist about it.

Though it hasn't been happening with just x reader fanfics it's been happening on different books with OC's and such. This needs to stop like now.

Go check this article and see how bad r@pe is in America.

It's bad bad and you nasty guys enjoy it.

Those who are tying to justify that it's just fanfiction. It isn't it just proves that you enjoy it.

Try to attack me but my point is proven. And MANY others who understand the pain of a loved one, family member, or even friend getting r@ped and those who been through it.

Nasty ass people I swear 🤢😒

Again those survivors I'm proud. Even when one of y'alls parents don't care you are worth more than anything. You managed to survive with only your mental health going down. You survived like a real champ :)

Your childhood basically got taken away if you guys where young and still managed to lived with that heavy burden thinking it's your fault.

It was never your fault those guys where just some sick people who need help. Survive and spit on those who wronged you on their grave.

Love you all <3

(platonically of course)

stop making fanfics about characters raping and sexually assaulting y/n, you are fucking disgusting people who romanticize a serious crime that happens every day to children and women

"but that's just reading dark romance" that's not a dark romance, that's just the stuff of a horrible fetish, IF YOU HAVE A RAPE FETISH, GO SEEK FOR FUCKING PSYCHIATRIST HELP!!!!!!!!!!

[the-cookie-of-doom]

I just. Cannot get past this sex scene for Artillery. Literally it is the only thing holding me back from updating, the rest of the chapter is finished. I just can’t write the goddamn sex!