#huey x reader

[brights-place]

The Boondocks with an Mother figure! Reader

Pairings: Riley X Reader, Huey X Reader (All Platonic)

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing,

A/N: Man I grew up with the Boondocks! love the show so much it was so funny and still is funny to see! Anyways imma do an motherly figure! - Okay LISTEN! LISTENNN! these boys have no parents they live with their fucking grandpa so you being an motherly figure to them is... Wild! - You were their neighbor so you wanted to greet them with your S/O but he/she/they/it was too busy at work so you went to greet them by yourself - You made some Sweets and came by smiling at them as Grandpa freeman opened the door to show you smiling at him who greete d you as you exchanegd conversation and handed him the container filled of baked goods before noticing an young boy by the age of 9 with cornrows raise an eyebrow judging you while an 10 year old beside him with an afro eyed you - You waved to them before waving goodbye to grandpa freeman "I'll invite you for dinner sweet pea" grandpa freeman said smiling as you smiled nodding "My partner and I will gladly come along!" you soon left after that - You have tried to befriend the two young boys but failed... - NGL I see Grandpa freeman see you as an daughter and cares for you - Wouldn't threaten you with an belt at all but maybe would whoop the two boys asses aka Huey and Riley most of the time when your around he doesn't hesitate at all unless you are used as a human shield - First of all, they didn’t trust you but then you started offering to babysit them when they were unsupervised. The two boys were more reluctant to accept your pressence, although they were polite with you... well Huey was RIley on the other hand would swear at you - You always took good care of them, you watched them closely and made sure they ate proeprly and didn’t get hurt... - When grandpa freeman says anything sexual around the two you gave the male an disgusted look just like the two boys and go try to cover their ears the best you could - When needed too you Cover the two's eyes whenever something bad would effect them which confuses the two since they were used to this type of shit but Huey didn't try to peak while Riley was squirming saying he wanted to see what the hell was going on - Riley is a highly impressionable third grader. He embraces the stereotypical "gangsta" lifestyle, doing his best to promote the urban culture in the contrasting suburb of Woodcrest since he was HEAVILY Influenced by the mass media via rap music and television, he frequently uses poor grammar, and tends to defend his idols even when his imitations go against common sense and righteousness... BUT DAMN WHEN HE SAW YOU WHOOP SOMEONE IS ASS WITH YOU IN HEELS? HE WAS GAWKING! - Huey is a highly intelligent 10-year-old boy, who rarely smiles or laughs, and recognizes and detests the absurdities (both obvious and perceived) of the society in which he lives. His cynicism often touches upon subjects such as politics, religion, the media, businesses and corporations, African-American culture, and American society as a whole. Tending to be obstinate in both manner and speech which makes you freak out on how an 10 year old knows ALOT! - Huey has shown like ALOT OF DEPTH! of understanding that would seem to surpass his young age, such as knowing roughly what is going to happen in the future based on the actions and personalities of the people involved... Which makes you concerned asking him if he or riley had even gotten a proper childhood... - Riley when he is close to getting his ass whooped would run towards you screaming and hide behind your legs as you stare in utter confusion when he jumps into your arms or hides behind your legs as Grandpa freeman stop and stare at you "Put the boy down Sweet pea I gotta beat this boys ass!" You stared at Grandpa Freeman before staring at riley before running away with the child in your arms screaming as Huey just stared at the chaos unfolding - After awhile you would cpome visit and would try to offer to braid rileys hair which he doesn't allow at first...

- When he does get comfy though and needs his cornrows to be fixed or get a new design he would go to you sit down between your legs on the couch while picking up his controller which makes you laugh - You and Huey discuss lots of things together and compliment and praise the young boy fro his work which he is thankful for - You are seen like a motherly figure to them after 7 Months of meeting you due to your sweet personality - For Riley and Hueyy felt so nice to have someone caring for them other then grandpa freeman. After all they didn't grow up with a good relationship with their parents or didn't have any? you didn't know - You are shocked by the boys is skills... like THEY KNOW SELF DEFENSE! in an shocking way and have done things no child would have done but this was Woodcrest... - Huey and Riley would come up to you if they ever finish a test and show you their scores huey always getting 100 and Riley getting... lets not talk about riley is scores - They both enjoy how you pat their heads when they do something right - Whenever they try to cuss infront of you, they always get an glare from you "Boy if you even try that Imma get your grandad to whoop you" You stated with an smile that held an menacing aura - You panic sometimes when you come to visit and see the boys attack eachother with weapons and they both stop quickly when you shout their names and scold them - If you ahve siblings though and their is a party at your place due to your partner hosting it they would be amazed how you are a whole different person cussing out your siblings - The other woodcrest neighbourghs wood also be shocked to see you close to whooping your younger/older sibling(s) asses with your purse cause they ate the last piece of your favourite food - You definetly will have to step in between Riley and Huey sometimes to stop them from killing one another which always freaks you out - You were staying over and helping Grandpa freeman with his upcoming date but you brought some sweets and got some of them eating one before lifting one up and walking towards you and Huey who were sitting on teh couch talking about one of Hueys recent experiments "Yo ma! what the fuck is this-" Riley froze when he realized what he said as Huey froze aswell turning to Riley with an raised brow as you stared at Riley - Riley spoke "Yall N**** ain't heard shit!" Riley said quickly but was to late when you rushed over hugging riley "AWWWW! RILEYYYY!" Huey glared at Riley who was getting your attention as Riley scoffed hugging you back - Riley and Huey wouldn't call you Ma, or Mother in public only in private cause they didn't want to seem like 'Pussies' by rileys words but to Huey he just doesn't want you to know he see's you as a mother figure - For huey the first time he call you Ma/mother was when you praised him for succeding in one of his experiments he worked REALLY hard on - he was in the garage and his eyes widened when he saw he succeed on making the bomb he had spent so long on... So when you come by he perks up slightly which is unusual and grabbing your hand taking you to the garage and telling you about his... 'Experiment' that def isn't a bomb and how long it took "Thats amazing Huey! your such a Genuis! you are an intelligent young boy I'm very proud of you" you stated with an sweet smile patting his head while his afro cause you didn't know where to pat as he stares up at you and looks away smiling slightly which wasn't shown well "Thanks Ma" Riley was walking past to grab his basketball before having his jaw drop so fast when hearing those quiet words from Hueys lips - Huey denies he ever said it but would say it to you in private. - He enjoys that he doesn't have to always be the responsible one in the family even if you live next door - They call you mom/momma/mum/mama/ma/mother - Believe it or not Huey respects you more than anyone in this world, I mean- have you seen yourself when you protected them of a group of assholes

- It’s still strange for you to know why some people hated the two boys Riley he has definitely called you “mom/mama” ) sometimes... and YES, Huey is still mocking him for that, when he does, surprisingly Riley does not get violent, he just scowls in shame and shouts “Well, SHE IS our mom! right?”  he just looks at you with the most confused and adorable expression ever made and you just can’t say no to him. - The two boys are very thankful for you like REALLY THANKFUL! even if they don't show it alot - Grandpa freeman is very greatful for having you around so he didn't have to always look after those assholes

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[hypnos333]

Boo’d up

Older up Huey Freeman x reader

Synopsis: Jasmine was always Jealous of you but what happens when she sees you and her crush kissing in his room

“If I don’t got you I don’t got nothing” Huey mumbles as you were laying on his chest, eyes close with him rubbing your back up and down.

Your forgotten shoes were mixed with his, as your body was intertwined with his. Riley was with his white gangster friends so he didn’t have to interrupt the moment.

Jasmine has always been jealous with your looks and clothes and your pure black skin. Maybe that’s why Huey picked you instead of her. But honestly that was never the reason you were just mature then others and Jasmine is Jasmine.

Huey lift up your chin before kissing your lips, your lips tasted like hot cocoa. His hands tightened around your waist as your lips open slightly giving him the opportunity to explore.

Then his lips moved down your neck leaving love bites on your neck. He sits up looking for a better position making you sit on his lap.

His lips found yours again, as he slid his hands up your shirt unclipping your bra too taking off everything in the process, You took off his shirt, he unnecessarily encouraged it. Him now shirtless, he started unbuttoning your jeans, until someone bust into the room making Huey cover you up with his blanket out of instinct.

“HUEY!” Jasmine yelled before looking at the sight before her. Her heart dropped seeing you under a blanket half naked and Huey covering you while shirtless and with unbutton jeans just showing his boxers.

“Jasmine can you get out, your making ___ uncomfortable” Huey demanded bluntly making Jasmine even more upset as she paused for a moment before closing the door.

“Jasmine” You called out feeling sorry for the poor lovesick girl.

“Leave her my queen” Huey said making you nod before cuddling in his chest but behind closed doors Tears ran down Jasmines face.

She was angry that she couldn’t be like you and angry that you took Huey away from her.

She’s gonna try harder to get Hueys attention but that’s impossible when All Huey can do is look at you.

[blackynsupremacy]

BEING THUGNIFICENT’S

NERDY GIRLFRIEND

HEADCANONS

pairing: thugnificent/otis jenkins x black!fem!reader

fandom: the boondocks (2005-2014)

summary: thugnificent wouldn’t be the type to easily settle down with anyone, but through your relationship, you shifted his perspective on many things.

contains: based on this request, fluff, comedy, swearing, use of the n-word, romance.

• if one could paint an image of the phrase “opposites attract”, best believe that you and thug would be the inspiration and the vision.

• thug was outgoing, flirtatious, confident, sometimes narcissistic and obnoxious, but he was real when it came it down to it. he had no shame about anything.

• no shame about his upbringing, no shame about his music, and definitely no shame about his personal life.

• he was the typical famous star that had surplus money and women flocking around. it was a fling here and a fling there.

• never a true, committed relationship.

• that all changed when he moved to woodcrest and met you.

• everyone greeted him with open arms—well, almost everyone.

• you were different from the rest of the women he met.

• you were cordial and polite, but a bit reserved. you didn’t really talk to him unless you had to.

• you heard his song “eff grandad” and you found it to be so funny.

• you didn’t throw yourself at thug and that had him piqued.

• he tried to get to know you by inviting you to a party at his mansion, but you suggested a different place. it wasn’t his style for a woman to tell him what to do.

• instead, you invited him to your favorite arcade and pizza spot across town.

• it was lowkey, so that no paparazzi would flash him.

• when it comes to any type of video games, you were competitive.

• “ahh, shit! you tryna make sure a nigga lose, huh? i got something for yo’ ass.” he’d tease as you competed in mortal kombat, maneuvering the controls to unleash an impressive power move.

• “hell, yeah! watch this.”

• you get your lick back when you pull a fatality on that man.

• he was shocked!

• you were talking all kinds of shit—which he found to be sexy. he thought you were just this shy homebody, but there’s a bad ass bitch in there.

• at that moment, thug had to lock you down.

• one time you were helping him out with his hair and you wanted to watch inuyasha while you did so.

• thug tried to ask questions, but you shushed him, so you could focus.

• he didn’t really understand it, so he just watched and it all clicked.

• “hold up, hold up! you tryna tell me that dog ass nigga is really a playa’? this man really wanted an alive and dead bitch. that’s some freaky shit. i respect it though—ow!”

• you thwacked his face with a comb at that statement.

• you introduced him to naruto.

• “so if that little blonde nigga become the hokage? is he gonna get all the hoes in his village?”

• dragon ball z is definitely his favorite. it’s a staple for him.

• he also likes sailor moon, but he sure as hell won’t tell you that.

• sometimes, you both binge watch, he’d invite the lethal interjection crew over to watch, or he’d do it alone.

• depending on the show, he prefers sub over dub.

• he loves to hear you spew facts and theories. he even has his own.

• sometimes you’d have debates on certain characters. ya’ll once had an argument on who could kick the most ass between superman and batman.

• got him so heated he literally made an unreleased diss track about superman.

• he spoils you with merchandise! if you even mention interest in a character, show, game, or comic, he’s going to buy stuff that’s related to it.

• hell, he even gets stuff for himself.

• he gets jealous when you simp over your fictional crushes.

• it cracks you up because you reassure him there’s no competition, it’s all for fun.

• “thuggie, don’t act like that. stop acting like you weren’t tripping over storm from x-men.”

• you clocked that tea really quick.

• he finds it sexy when you cosplay his fictional crushes.

• “hell yeah, baby! turn around for thugnificent, goddamn!”

• you like to spend quiet time with him by reading a manga or comic.

• it calms him when you guys watch studio ghibli movies.

• your best vacation spots are london, japan, universal studios, and disney world.

• you would randomly quote lines or make references, he’d just go along with it.

• he’d make references in his bars while in the studio.

• you’d be the first to listen and he’d respectfully ask for your feedback only, no one else’s!

• overall, he loves you and digs your overall vibe.

• you’re his nerd and he’s your thug.

[yandereducktales]

Hi hope you're doing well, I was wondering if you could do hcs about romantic yandere H, D, L, and Webby. And like the rest of the McDuck/Dick family supports them? Srry if that's too much. But I love your work😊

Oh ?

Dewey Duck

Oh, he's so in love

He's dazzled by you. You're just- wow

Every time he looks at you, it's like he has stars in his eyes

You met on one of the McDuck many adventures

The boys had noticed you with your uncle- Flintheart Glomgold

Ahh, forbidden love <3 [He loved Romeo & Juliet]

He can't approach you with Scrooge and Glomgold around, so he waits until you're by yourself

"Um... Hi-" He awkwardly calls, causing you to look at him confused. You instantly recognize him as one of Scrooge's nephews

"Oh, uh- Hi?" You tilt your head, a little confused on why he was talking to you.

He tries to speak, but it's like his tongue is tied. God, he feels like an idiot

Before you can ask him what's wrong, your uncle appears and reprehends the young boy

You don't see him until a few weeks later- At the arcade

He was with Launchpad, but he ditched him when seeing you on the dance game

He joins you and you recognize him

"Oh, hi again. Uh, Huey right?"

"Actually it's Dewey." He's a little disappointed that you don't know his name, but then he remembers he didn't give it to you, so you probably asked about him and that thought made him happy.

"Oh, sorry Dewey. My name's Y/n."

"Well, Y/n, it's nice to meet you."

"You, too." You chuckle

And that's how your friendship starts

You both like to sneak off when your uncles are fighting

He tells you about trying to find his mother and you try and help him

Whenever you come across something that could help him, you give it to him

When his mother comes back, he wants to introduce her to you

"You have to meet them, Mom. You'll love each other. Y/n's great!"

He wants you two to get along so bad

Dewey knows you two are meant to be and sometimes he can't get you out of his mind

Or his mouth. He's always talking about

Everyone's kind of sick of it

They think when you both start dating, maybe it'll stop- Oh, how wrong they are

Huey Duck

You were at a woodchuck meeting and you were new, so Huey clocked you fast

He wanted to help you, but he gets entangled with you

You share a lot of the same interests, hobbies, and ideas

He feels like someone finally understands him

And you feel the same

You two are like two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly

You even finish each other sentences

His brothers [Louie] think you're both losers, but you don't care, because you have each other

He didn't even realize he had a crush on you until someone else pointed it out

"Yeah, they're cool. Yeah, I think about them a lot. Yeah, they're amazing- No, I don't have a crush on them, I just think they're perfect in every way possible"

You'd have to confess first, because it doesn't look like he's going to be confessing anytime soon. He's heavy in denial

He's flabbergasted when you admit you have a crush on him

"Me? You like me?"

You're a little scared at first, but he's over the moon

Louie Duck

You've met on multiple occasions, but nothing that ever stood out to either of you

You have nothing in common- Well, that's not entirely true, but the more defining personality features are vastly different

When you first meet him, you think he's selfish, lazy, mean, underhanded, manipulative- you get it

He thinks you're different than him. He's never really met someone like you, but he doesn't really give most people a second thought

You're nice and helpful. You want to make life easier and for everyone to be happy

You weren't selfish- You cared about other people

He found that not only annoying, but he thought it was a facade

There was no way that you cared about other people above yourself

People like that didn't exist

Everyone was always looking out for themselves. You must have been faking it

Though, after he stalked you learned more about you, he realize this truly was who you were

You really did want a Utopia and you believing in 'You have to take the first step to change'

He wants to impress you, but you see right through is lies

He wants to change for you- Be nicer- which makes him sick

Though, he really does start to try. The more time he spends around you and the people, he realizes that these people are just like him- Just not rich

You're impressed when realizing he has changed. Maybe not by a lot, but a little is a good start

You become friends and he's glad that he's made you happy

He likes you being happy

Oh my god, he has a crush on you-

He tries learning more about you so that he can come off as someone you should date

Knows your favorite color, parents' names, favorite food, favorite number, your ideologies etc

His family notices he's changed- He's like a completely different person

They have mixed reactions

"Where is my brother and what have you done to him!?!?!!" Dewey shakes his brother when seeing his brother give money to someone

"I think it's great," Huey comments, "Whatever's happened, it's a good thing."

Dewey thinks Louie's an alien or shape-shifter... That is until he meets you

"Oooh! Louie has a cru-"

Louie quickly elbows his brother, his face a bright red

"Shut up-"

You invite Louie to hang out at the movies after working and he's quick to pick up your offer

As you're both leaving, you share a moment and a kiss

Louie's eyes are wide and his face is a deep red

"Wow."

You blush, before waving him off, "Bye Louie. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah.... Tomorrow."

Webby Vanderquack

You think she's rather strange

But she's super fun

You met while she was checking out the city

She had accidentally bumped into you

You meet on several occasions and each time she approaches you

She always starts a friendly conversation with you

She really likes you and tries to impress you a lot

She's very outspoken and tries flirting but it never goes well, even when you start dating

You find her charming though

You asked her out and she was thrilled. She couldn't believe that you liked her back

You always have a fun time with her, no matter what you do

[witchypandamonium]

A Knight's Honor

A collection of Luis/Reader snippets

This chapter: the lab. Luis and Leon fulfill their promises to you & Ashley.

Chapter 2 of ? Occurs during Chapter 15-16 of game 4,788 words, SFW No warnings Tags: Luis x f!Reader | AU | Luis lives

ao3

The ride to Saddler’s island wasn’t too bad, at least at first. Efrain’s boat was exactly what you expected of a smuggler’s ship–a little ramshackle, patched and pieced together with spare parts, but fast as the wind and draped in a tarp painted to blend in with the brackish waters of the sea. He’d even had enough to spare that he’d made a little den for “Huey” (turns out he’d been the one taking care of the stray, and he was loathe to leave the dog to fend for himself) to feel more secure on clearly his first boat ride.

Your left arm was bound to your chest to prevent further injury should you forget and attempt to use it, as well as to try and deaden the pain a bit (Tylenol could only do so much). It was, admittedly, a little annoying and hugely inconvenient, but you’d rather suffer through it, using all of that proprietary Umbrella drug on Luis’s much more serious wound, than to split it and risk his life further down the line. The healthy color in his skin and pep in his step returning after your shared rest was all you’d needed to be secure in your choice.

When the island came into sight through the mist and spray, however, Ef were forced to pull up to a small outcropping of rocks, still hundreds of meters from the shore, and cut all but the smallest engine. “Saddler’s eye may be focused on the American,” the merchant explained, “but from the radio chatter I’ve managed to tap into, they still have a small contingent on the towers watching the coast. If we follow this archipelago and keep down the noise, we should be able to slip in without detection.”

The thought of Saddler taking control of you again made your nerves buzz like a hive of bees in your chest, clutching your wounded left hand even tighter to your chest. You prayed he and Luis were right, that Leon was really putting pressure on Saddler as he grew ever closer to taking Ashley back; too much pressure for the cult leader to notice one little outlier sneaking in right under his nose.

Two broad arms enclosed you from behind as Luis, sensing your anxiety, pulled you against him. “It’s alright, querida,” he murmured against your temple. “We’re almost there. Then we can finally get rid of that damn plaga. You’re almost free.”

Giving one of his hands a grateful squeeze, you focused on taking a few calming deep breaths and quashing those intrusive thoughts that were convinced of your failure. Yes, the odds seemed impossible, but you had to try. Even if there was only a slight chance, it was still a chance–0.00000001-to-1 odds was technically better than 0-to-1.

“How do you feel?” that raspy voice continued, softer, gentler.

Terrified. But of course he meant physically, medically.  “O-okay… a little pressure in my head, but… nothing too out of the ordinary.”

“Good. Hopefully it will stay that way, but Saddler had been experimenting on ways to influence acceleration of the maturation of the plaga when I escaped. We don’t know what he’ll do if he starts getting desperate.”

Great, staying calm was impossible now. You had to keep your eyes focused on the waves lapping against the rocks to keep from dissolving into a nervous wreck.

“Calmaté,” he squeezed you tighter, holding your trembling hand in his, “Ef and I know a route through the sea caves that leads to a cove right under Saddler’s castle. We can take one of the hidden maintenance walkways straight up to my lab–barely anyone uses them. No patrols, no cameras. We’ll be in before they even have a chance to notice.”

You knew he was trying to reassure you, and you so desperately wanted to do as he said, but you just couldn’t shake that feeling of wrongness, that crawling sensation under your skin that increased whenever you neared an area of increased plaga influence–perhaps specifically whenever you drew close to one of the entities possessing the dominant strain. The nausea, the subtle feeling of intoxication, the way the dark coloring of your veins intensified…

You watched the darkness of a vein on the inside of your wrist beginning to pulse to your heartbeat, almost meditative, losing all sense of time, when suddenly darkness fell over you. You realized that you’d successfully reached the island and slipped into one of the cave passages he’d talked about. It was almost beautiful, the way the light refracted off the water and danced along the sparkling stalactites on the cave ceiling. Almost. The water was too brackish, smelling of rot, and occasionally you’d spot a rivulet of black ichor seeping down the rock walls rather than water. And it was too quiet, you realized–not a single sea bird call could be heard, no doubt all dead from disease or plaga predation long ago. Occasionally you’d hear the pop of distant gunfire, a few bursts, then all would fall silent again. Odd how it brought you a bit of comfort–it meant Leon was still alive and fighting his way to Ashley.

Luis was the first to hop off the boat when you reached the “cove”, really a thin strip of sand barely big enough to fit a grown man lying down, holding out a hand to help you with a little chivalrous quirk to his smile. The sand was slippery with slime, a little worn channel stained red from the drainage water flowing from a heavily-rusted pipe at shin-height that jutted out from a narrow passage chiseled in the rocks.

“No wonder no one uses them,” you couldn’t help but chuckle, glad you had at least a little humor left.

It seemed to ease Luis’s mind a little as well, the scientist giving you an encouraging pat on the back as he gestured to Efrain. “One last time–radio check?”

The smuggler held one speaker of the old headset to his ear, eyes narrowing beneath the shadows of his hood. “Chatter’s gone quiet, which means Saddler’s probably using the hivemind exclusively now. Either he’s gotten wise to third-party intruders or Leon’s really putting the screws to him. Last I heard there was trouble going on at the base of the mountain. Odds are the American’s managed to break through the gate to the keep.”

“Knowing Leon? Por supuesto,” Luis chuckled, giving you a reassuring wink. Stepping up into the crevice that was just big enough for him, he held out his hand, “Alright, stay close.”

You didn’t let go, even as you stepped into the darkness.

The passage was almost pitch black, even when your eyes adjusted, only the occasional weak red light giving you any idea of your surroundings. It was a disorienting, suffocating maze, the air thick as water (you hoped it was just water) seeped from unseen cracks and dripped slowly down the mineral-coated, rough-hewn stone walls, but Luis marched ahead confidently, never for a moment hesitating at each intersection.

Not knowing how far sound would carry, nor how thick the walls were, you whispered, “You memorize the route?”

“Absolutamente,” he replied with a brief glance back at you, tone similarly hushed but still playful–something you were beginning to learn he did on purpose to ease your nerves whenever fear or doubt started creeping in. “This was my way out. Time was of the essence–I only had a few hours at most to get somewhere safe before Saddler realized I’d removed the plaga.”

Sometimes you almost forgot just how smart Luis was–the flirting and light-hearted joking were quite effective smokescreens. His gentle, reassuring squeeze of your hand told you quite plainly he understood and didn’t mind.

The column of light that materialized ahead of you was almost a welcome relief. Almost. Problem was what it illuminated.

A ladder.

This was going to be tough.

“Almost there. Normally I’d say ‘after you’,” Luis murmured as he removed the bandages pinning your arm to your chest, “but I think you’re going to need me up above with a safety line, hm?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Thankfully a quick search revealed a rope hanging from a nearby pipe, and after one end was secured to the waist of the Spaniard and the other to you, the both of you began the ascent.

Hooking your elbow on the rungs worked well enough, but it was a bit of an ordeal, your wet shoes slipping while trying to step up more than once. Still, right hand gripping white-knuckled as you clung so hard with your left arm you were sure to have bruises on your ribs, you managed to avoid testing the strength of Luis’s knot-tying. You were so focused on following the very deliberate order of operations required for safe ascent–step, right hand, left elbow, step, repeat–that you didn’t notice the faint whispering on the peripheral of your senses, nor the pressure beginning to build behind your eyes (nor the occasional opportunity to check out Luis’s ass). It was only when you finally reached the top level, Luis gently lifting you by the waist to help you onto the platform, that your ears started to ring.

…my flock…

“You alright, ¿mija?”

You felt something warm under your nose, reaching up to realize it was bleeding. “Something’s wrong…”

Just over Luis’s shoulder, you saw two bright, pale blue eyes floating behind him. The area was well-lit and plainly empty, yet the gaze stared defiantly into your soul.

The American… kill…

A moment later the pulse hit you like a freight train.

You’d felt it once before, shortly after you’d entered Ramón’s castle. It was weaker then, when an ominous cultist in red robes had compelled the rapid growth of the other cultists’ parasites, the horrifying, bloated worms bursting their hosts’ heads as they continued to puppet their bodies toward you. Those plaga had already matured enough to completely control their hosts before, however. This… the agony, the twitching of your muscles as something worked to control them, the oddly intoxicating brain-fog, the voice. You knew instantly.

Saddler.

He must not reach the girl! Rise, my flock! Stop him at all costs!

You were only vaguely aware of your collapse, seizing as all your neurons fired at once, body struggling to override the various chemicals and electrical signals the parasite pumped into you as it began to seize control, tearing its way to your spinal column. As though underwater, you barely heard Luis’s muffled voice, the panic the only thing you managed to make out.

Not like this! You didn’t want to turn into one of those things! You didn’t want everything you to effectively die as a creature locked you inside your own body, a puppet at the mercy of one madman’s aspirations. Did the ganados even know what they were doing? Were they forced to watch as their bodies moved on their own, poorly mimicking mundane life routines and murdering any poor innocent that got in the way? Or did they die slowly, painfully, the internal damage too much, unable to even cry out as their entire essence was slowly donned by this foul creature as some grotesque disguise? You didn’t want to find out which nightmare was to be your fate. Please, no!

And then a cold wave washed over you, starting as but a pinpoint of light in the dark, bloody sea you were drowning in, but it spread quickly. But rather than scooping you from the foul, roiling waters, it was like being cast from one ocean into another, then being held under. At least it was quiet, the overwhelming susurrus dying away as the lightning firing throughout your body fizzled, leaving you exhaustedly adrift with only the pounding of your own pulse in your ears.

The suppressant. The last little bastion of conscious thought in the corner of your mind was amazed that it was at all effective at this point. You couldn’t make much out after that. The agony of something ripping through you, sinking its claws into your very molecules, was replaced with a pulsing soreness, like you’d just finished the most intense workout of your life.

Anything outside of yourself came through a thick, syrupy filter; blurry, echoing, smearing.

You were floating barely above the surface of a mercury ocean, light reflecting off the ripples of liquid silver, obscuring much else from perception.

Murky figures in black robes hung like upside-down statues, passing one after the other like pillars in some submerged cathedral.

A low thudding, the distant, rhythmic thunk like that of an axe hitting wood, sounded somewhere beyond your deadened heartbeat, the gavel of some divine magistrate delivering judgment.

Carried by the waters, you were laid upon a plinth of stone as the waves washed the entrails of some dead, mighty sea serpent, across you. First one, then another, and another, until you couldn’t move beneath them.

Three suns rose in the misty gray sky, flitting like fireflies across the heavens. They brightened, then, until all you could see was white.

And then you were filled with a new agony, burning from the inside out, reality jumping from surreal and mildly unsettling to stark, pinpoint-clear pain. You knew you were screaming, but you could barely hear it above the shrill buzzing that had swallowed all. You couldn’t move, held down as you were, couldn’t escape this lance of pure, tortuous sunlight as it struck a void of writhing darkness lodged inside you like shards of glass. Shrieking, shattering, combusting. The only thing that anchored you, saving you from getting lost in the pain, was a strong hand gripping yours, keeping you from digging your nails into your wounded palm or tearing open the stitches, barely in the periphery of your perception. A lighthouse in a dark, foggy night.

Then, just like that, it was over. You had never felt so drained before in your life, wrung dry and pummeled into a fine powder. The last thing you heard before blessed darkness took you was a familiar voice gasping,

“İGracias a Dios!”

•••

You awoke slowly, hazy, formless dream and reality blending together as your senses slowly recalibrated after such a traumatizing experience. The first thing you could properly discern (other than the full-body soreness) was that same warm hand holding yours, a soft, familiar voice mumbling barely audible Spanish. Eyes cracking open, the bright, clinical light of the lab was almost painful, the world a bright, hazy mess for several moments. As things began to focus, you slowly turned your head to see Luis seated at your bedside, holding your bandaged hand between his as he rested his forehead against it. You could somewhat understand what he was whispering, recognizing the words enough to discern them as Catholic prayers.

“After all that’s happened…” your voice felt like sandpaper, but you had to say something—he looked so pitiful, “…I’m amazed you still believe in a god, let alone pray to him.”

Luis’s head snapped up, eyes glistening but bright as a smile uncharacteristically lacking of any sass or flirtiness bloomed across his face, almost as blinding as the lab lights.

“I’d pray to anything that’d bring you back to me, querida,” he rumbled, voice as sweet as syrup.

You couldn’t help but snort. “Maybe a poor choice of words when we’re in the heart of a cult compound.”

“Not when we’re finally safe in their blind spot.”

Trying to sit up suddenly in shock and excitement earned you a wave of lightheadedness and Luis’s gentle hand guiding you back down to the bed you’d been deposited on. That brief angle, however, did allow you to see a very important face—one you feared you might not ever see again.

“Ashley!”

The President’s daughter traipsed over with a grin like pure sunshine, her skin finally a healthy peach tone completely devoid of any dark veins. “How are you feeling?”

“Not as good as you,” you chuckled wryly, not even trying to hide your envy.

“You hit your head pretty hard back there, mija,” Luis crooned, affectionately brushing the hair from your face as he tapped the bandage wrapped around your forehead. “Mild concussion, I’d say.”

Well that certainly tracked with the hallucinations you’d experienced earlier. You hadn’t even noticed the wraps until he pointed them out to you. “What about Leon?”

“Never better.”

You almost shot back up again, though Luis anticipated this and was already holding up a scolding finger and tutting sternly. And so you simply craned your neck to see the agent look up from the papers he was studying on a nearby table, similarly looking hale and healthy, gifting you with a rare, subtle smile. “Glad to see you finally awake.”

It was hard to quite make sense of what you were seeing and what this meant—most likely thanks to the concussion. “How long was I out?” If you were all together again, and this was indeed Luis’s lab, then that meant…

You were all cured.

The answer of “Thankfully only about an hour,” from Luis was barely registered as a wave of emotions washed over you, each vying for control in an almost overwhelming rush. It was hard to even realize that you were crying as one thought managed to push to the forefront:

You’d done it.

You were safe, and all of you were alive.

“No no no no, cariño,” There was a hint of panic in the Spaniard’s eyes as he gently brushed away your tears with calloused thumbs, the kind of vicarious distress of a parent upset to see their child upset.

…or a lover.

No, you chalk that one up to the concussion—the likelihood of that was even lower than you all surviving this.

Ashley joined Luis in calming you with a gentle hand stroking your arm, a much-needed diving-line that helped guide you back to the surface. “You okay?”

“We did it?” you whimpered.

“We did it,” Baby Eagle confirmed with a squeeze of your shoulder.

“Not quite.”

A part of you wanted to roll your eyes (though it probably would’ve made you nauseous; Luis did so in your stead, muttering a clipped “Oye, time and place, Sancho!”). Leave it to Leon to be the party pooper. But by now you knew full-well just how reliable the agent’s instincts were and understood that he wasn’t so much pessimistic as realistic. First he analyzed the problem, and then he always presented a solution.

So you know he’d continue. “Saddler may not have control over us anymore, but he’s still a threat. I’m going to take care of the psychopath once and for all.” The satisfying sound of pistols being primed rang through the lab as he clearly prepared for a confrontation. “Luis, meanwhile, is going to get you and Ashley to evac.”

“And he’ll be right behind us once he’s done,” the Spaniard added, anticipating your protest. “We’ve got it all planned out—Leon’s got the map, Efrain’s got enough explosives rigged to convince Saddler’s private army that American backup’s finally arrived from the east, while I get you two señoritas to his boat at the western dock. All you need to do is take it easy.”

You couldn’t help but feel there were still a few loose ends swinging in the proverbial wind. “Weren’t you trying to negotiate an exchange with someone for escape before all of this? What about them?”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I’m sure they can take care of themselves. Besides, I lost the goods thanks to Leon’s old buddy back in the caves. Ef will get us out of here for a US pardon. Trust me.”

While you couldn’t help but still be anxious, you did trust him, so you bit back any further objections.

As Leon headed for the door, Ashley stepped away to reach Efrain on the comm, leaving you and Luis alone for one last quiet moment.

His hands were still cupping your face, thumbs idly stroking your cheekbones. “I promised I’d get you out of here,” he murmured gently, “just like I promised I wouldn’t let you turn into one of them. We’re almost there, mija.”

And then he was leaning down to brush the softest of kisses to your forehead, quickly, barely more than a peck. Had his touch not kept you anchored in reality, you’d have been certain you were hallucinating. That couldn’t have been real. He couldn’t… You reached up to catch him before he could retreat too far, analyzing every micro-emotion that flashed in those gray eyes.

Surprise. Confusion. Realization.

Hope.

Amor. He’d said amor then, back in the foreman’s office. You hadn’t imagined it in your exhaustion. And his eyes said it again now, clear as a bell, amidst that shock identical to yours that you could feel the same.

Slowly you pulled him back, giving him every chance to stop you.

He didn’t. Not even when your lips touched his.

In fact, he leaned in, head tilting to better slot against you as his fingers crept to your hairline. It was relatively chaste, barely a hint of moisture felt, but it was like a fatal crack splitting a mighty dam in two; the completing of a circuit that launched a thousand fireworks. Luis, seemingly unwilling to bear parting from you for more than a breath, hissed a heated “Ay, mi vida,” before he swiftly closed the distance again, this time with searing intensity. You readily yielded to his tongue, welcoming him into the cavern of your mouth as you arched off the bed, desperate for more contact he was all too happy to provide, one large hand at the small of your back as he supported his weight above you on his opposite forearm. His scent washed over you–leather, tobacco, sandalwood, and traces of gunpowder–giving a pleasant, dreamy haze to your already floaty senses. You could be quite content to get lost in this moment forever, but the fingertips creeping just under the hem of your shirt whispered heated promises of more; of adoration showered upon you until the stars burst, just as soon as you were away from this place.

It felt at once too long and too short when you finally broke apart for air, a different kind of tears welling your eyes as they met his bright, shining quicksilver ones.

“Is this real?” you whispered, weak voice quivering in a mix of disbelief and joy.

Luis chuckled, the sound kindling a fire in your chest so warm you knew it’d never go out–your heart would become dependent on it. “After all that’s happened,” his smile took on that wry slant that had charmed you from the very start, mischief in his voice as he turned your words back on you, “I’m surprised this is what you have trouble believing.”

You clapped a hand on his face and shoved him away with a scoff, regretting rolling your eyes as you confirmed your hypothesis—it immediately made you dizzy.

He simply laughed good-naturedly and sat back in his chair, saying in a voice loud enough for Leon and Ashley to hear, “Alright, let’s get you two señoritas out of here,” adding in a lower, hushed tone for just you, “so I can show you just how real this is…” subtly adjusting his pants to relieve some… discomfort as he stood.

Your head went blank as your face went hot. How the fuck did he manage to do that? This wasn’t the first time he made something that could be misconstrued as creepily lewd instead so subtly hot that it short-circuited you. You’d always brushed it off, however–he was just a flirty guy, after all, and certainly would never be seriously interested in you.

And now here he was, his lascivious smirk tempered by the earnest adoration in his eyes as he offered a hand gallantly to help you up, even kissing the back of yours afterwards like a proper knight. You’d gone through hell, but it seemed you’d come out the other side with something… wonderful.

Now wasn’t the time, however. Now you had to concentrate on standing upright without swaying too much as you heard Ashley say into the comm, “Hit it.” You felt the vibration in the floor before the sound of a distant, muffled explosion caught up to it, triggering an immediate alarm that bathed you in red as sirens blared.

Leon, standing at the ready by the eastern door, met your eyes one last time. His trained neutral expression was oddly warm, comforting as only Leon could make it. Then, with a sharp nod, he was gone.

Fear immediately started bubbling up in you again, but Luis was right beside you in an instant, arm at your back to keep you steady and usher you through after him. Ashley then took his place as he drew his Red 9 and took the lead to heroically guide the three of you to the docks.

The distraction worked–the remarkably short route was empty of any opposition, and in what felt like no time at all you were being helped back into Efrain’s boat, the smuggler still cackling to himself about what a panic he’d stirred up. No, what ended up being the most difficult was the waiting afterwards. Retreating from the docks to anchor as close to the northern cliffs as they safely could, somewhere they wouldn’t be seen unless the witness was standing right at the edge, they had to sit in perfect silence, praying that Leon would be successful in whatever he’d planned to do to neutralize Saddler.

When the alarm stopped, you started fidgeting. When the gunshots started up again, you were trembling, welcoming the shelter of your knight’s arms–his coat was even opened up for you to burrow further within, perhaps because he thought you might also be shivering from the cold oceanic wind (a real possibility, but your head was too scrambled to really isolate any one sensation or emotion). Ashley was remarkably calm, brow barely creased in concern, as she kept her eyes squarely trained on the northern platform; the lack of a concussion probably helped, though being the President’s daughter she no doubt was already familiar with dealing with crises.

The roar that came next, however, made the whole boat flinch. You caught a glimpse of a massive, bladed tentacle thrash over the platform before you drew quickly back to the safety of Luis’s coat, pressing as close to his warm chest as you possibly could, screwing your eyes shut tight.

Trust him, you kept repeating to yourself, trust him trust him trust him. For once Saddler’s angry–that’s a good sign. Just trust him.

One shot. Two. Three.

Another roar.

Then silence fell again.

How exactly you missed the sound of the helicopter that approached the platform, you weren’t sure. You felt more than heard Luis’s chuckle. “I knew it,” he muttered to himself.

When another explosion hit, Ef quickly barking, “That’s not mine!” the panic started again. It soon became apparent that there were more being set off in a massive chain that stood to potentially level the whole keep. The smuggler was so desperate to get the anchor up that he was aiding the winch with his own hands, no doubt giving himself some pretty bad rope burn for his troubles, but it helped them gun the engine to a safe distance that much quicker.

But wait…

Was… was that the sound of another boat engine? It wasn’t the helicopter–it seemed to have vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared, the smoke covering its escape. You built up the courage to peek out from your jacket shelter.

Leon!

It was Leon! Shooting out from some hidden cave, the agent just managed to outpace the island’s collapse on a pilfered jet ski, none to worse for wear. A rare bright, boyish smile broke through his look of concern and concentration as he spotted you all–the last thing you saw clearly before your vision was swimming in tears again.

He did it.

You were free.

The evening was a blur after that. You remembered crying and cheering and so many hugs. Leon must have managed to contact whatever secret service department he was working for, as at some point you were intercepted by a Navy ship of some sort, which passed you to a carrier, where two helicopters were waiting–one for Ashley, the other for the rest of you. The last thing you remembered was dimly marveling at how fast the aircraft was before you fell asleep, Luis never once letting you go.

[vicioussimp79]

80s masterlist!

masterlist

i. corey haim

ii. tom cruise

iii. rob lowe

iv. michael j. fox

v. josh charles

vi. bruce springsteen

vii. huey lewis

viii. izzy stradlin

ix. ronald miller

x. johnny lawrence

xi. dinger holfield

xii. brian johnson

[lemonade1254]

Help pls

I rly suck at writing and am requesting for any sort of grammar person to help, currently writing my first fic (a ducktales child of evil au) I am absolutely useless when it comes to writing. pls just message me and I'll add u to a google doc.

(credit for au goes fully to @cartoon-brainrot pls go check them out, they're amazing)

[did-i-mention-the-shirt]

DUCKFICS READERS LISTEN UP

UPDATE POST ON WHAT'S HAPPENING WITH THE SERIES:

Duckfics update

[aresgodofwar23]

[munson-blurbs]

Eddie Munson x Shy!Reader

Summary: Max and Lucas are tired of their friends silently pining over each other but never making a move, so when the Winter Formal rolls around, they take matters into their own hands.

Warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluffy fluff

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Happy anniversary to the love of my life, @corroded-hellfire 💚 one year ago today, we met in person for the first time, and my life has been infinitely better ever since. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you more than Dustin loves his Weird Al shirt. Red, this fic is for you.

Divider credit to @saradika

“Kill me now.”

Three words uttered by none other than Max Mayfield, sliding her lunch tray onto the table and sitting down with an irritated sigh. 

You look at her with an amused grin. “What is it this time? Bombed a pop quiz? Got detention for flipping off a teacher—again?” Her brazen, flippant attitude provided many entertaining moments, so long as you weren’t on the receiving end of it. 

Max shakes her head, spearing a limp macaroni noodle with her plastic fork. “I wish.” She holds up two tickets to the Winter Formal. “Lucas is dragging me to this bullshit. ‘All the other basketball guys’ girlfriends are going,’” she mocks him in an octave much lower than his actual voice, “so I guess that means I have to follow suit.”

Bringing a hand to your heart, you jut out your lower lip in mock-pity. “Oh, no; your boyfriend wants to show you off at a school dance! How will you ever survive?” 

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “You could go, too,” she says, blue eyes pleading. “Keep me company when the guys inevitably bail to get wasted in the woods.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t need a date,” she insists, reading your mind before the words can leave your mouth. “I’m telling you, Lucas is gonna ditch me as soon as Jason and Patrick show up.” She takes your hand between both of hers. “Please? I’ll even tell Ms. Kelly the lengths you went to for your poor, troubled freshie.”

You exhale, knowing that she doesn’t need to go to all of that trouble. You’d started off the school year as her peer mentor, but just a few months later, you two have become close friends. “Fine, I’ll go,” you acquiesce, laughing when she pumps her fists victoriously. “But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”

You return to your own lunch, completely missing the mischievous look that graces her freckled face. 

Unbeknownst to you, a similar discussion is had at Hellfire Club later that same afternoon. 

“Absolutely not,” Eddie scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “Nice try, Sinclair, but I wouldn’t be caught dead at some lame dance.”

“Seriously,” Jeff smirks from his position across the table. “He’s never been to a single one in his ten years of high school.”

Eddie flips him off casually. “It’s only six, asshole. But that doesn’t matter, because I’m not dressing up in some penguin suit to drink unspiked punch with a bunch of shitty people.”

“C’mon, dude,” Lucas says, his tone bordering on a whine. “If you don’t go, I’m gonna be stuck with the jocks all night, and they just wanna suck face with their girlfriends.”

“And you don’t?” Gareth quips. 

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Not in front of everyone. And I don’t need a front-row seat to their performances, either.” He turns his attention back to the Dungeon Master. “Look, I’m desperate. Mike’ll be visiting his grandma and Dustin’s grounded because of his D-plus in Spanish.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “What about Huey, Dewey, and Louie over here?” he asks, gesturing to the three remaining club members. 

Their collective responses are jumbled excuses; Eddie swears one of them says he’s going kayaking—in mid-December in Indiana—but he doesn’t bother to sift through their lies. “You owe me, Sinclair,” he declares, pointing his forefinger at the underclassman. “Big time.”

The next few weeks leading up to the Winter Formal are spent meticulously making plans. For someone who seemed so disinterested in this dance, Max is paying careful attention to each detail. 

You walk out of the dressing room in a velvet emerald green dress that hits just above the knee. Max is beaming as she adjusts the off-the-shoulder sleeves and smooths down any creases. 

“You look really nice,” she says, nodding her head. She’s trying to temper her enthusiasm, but you can sense her excitement. “I can’t wait to tell Lucas.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Lucas? Why would he care?” He’s a nice kid—more in tune with emotions than the average fourteen-year-old boy—but that doesn’t constitute an interest in your fashion choices. 

Max’s cheeks burn as red as her hair. “Uh, well, seeing you happy makes me happy, and seeing me happy makes him happy, so…everyone’s happy?” she finishes lamely. She clears her throat as if expelling the awkwardness from the conversation. “Anyway, let’s buy this dress so we can look for shoes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You’re not fully convinced, but you brush it off and steel your nerves to ask a question. “Is anyone else gonna be there that we know?” You really want to know whether Eddie Munson is going to be there, but you can’t say the quiet part aloud. 

“Probably,” she shrugs, a bit too quickly, but she’s pushing you back behind the curtain to change before you can inquire more. 

“Why does this stupid tie need to be green?” Eddie asks, sifting through the store’s selection with Lucas by his side. 

“Uh, Christmas colors,” Lucas stammers, fumbling for a decent explanation other than the contents of his secret phone call with Max earlier today. “And, y’know, red is way overdone, so…” he trails off lamely, going back to the display table and hoping Eddie drops the matter. 

They find exactly what they’re looking for—not without Eddie complaining about putting in too much effort just to be a third wheel—and make their way over to the food court. Eddie makes a beeline for the Pizza Hut when he stops dead in his tracks. “Shit, Sinclair; we gotta go,” he says urgently, clapping a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder and steering him away from the fast food. 

“What the hell? I’m hungry!”

Eddie shakes his head, curls brushing against his shoulders. “Look, man.” He discreetly points to his left, where you and Max are giggling at the Orange Julius. “We can’t let them see us.”

“Dude, she’s like the nicest person ever,” Lucas rebuts. “Even Max likes her, and Max pretty much hates everyone.”

“That’s not the problem.” Eddie rakes his ringed fingers through his hair, wincing when he snags one on a knot. “The problem is that she’s gonna be all, ‘hi, Eddie; what’re you doing at the mall?’ And I’m gonna be all, ‘just picking out a tie for the Winter Formal.” And then she’ll go, ‘oh, who’s your date?” And then I’ll have to say, ‘I don’t have one; I’m just playing babysitter to some freshmen like a goddamn loser!” He hops back and forth to indicate each character change.

“First of all, ouch,” Lucas quips, “second, go hide in the bathroom if you want, but I’m getting something to eat.”

Eddie exhales an exasperated sigh, giving in and schlepping over to Pizza Hut, one of the few times in his life that he’s trying to be inconspicuous. 

You pull into the school parking lot on the night of the Winter Formal and shift into park before killing the engine. Max is bouncing her leg up and down in the passenger seat, lower lip tucked between her teeth.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask, mistaking her excitement for anxiety. “You know that Lucas would think you look beautiful even if you showed up in a potato sack.” You furrow your brow. “Where is he, anyway? Why didn’t he come with us?”

She mumbles something about not wanting her mom to ask any questions about the relationship, and you take them at face value. Her eyes light up when she spots her boyfriend walking into the school alongside…Eddie Munson?

“Eddie’s here?” you ask in a hushed whisper, feeling sweat prickling under your arms. You’ve been nursing a massive crush on him for ages–one that Max is very much aware of. And now he’s here, dressed in a black suit with his hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck. “Max, why didn’t you tell me? Who’s he going with?” The idea of him slow dancing with someone else has your stomach turning.

Max just shrugs. “I don’t think he had a date.” Too casual, too blasé–she knows something. “C’mon, let’s go in.” She swings the car door open enthusiastically, leaving you shell-shocked in your seat.

“Maxine Mayfield!” you hiss, using her full government name to drive home your bewilderment, but she just skips ahead. Damn your heeled shoes, slowing you down before you can catch up to her. When you finally do, she just grabs your hand and tugs you towards the guys.

She poorly feigns surprise, jaw dropping as she exclaims, “Eddie? What are you doing here? Oh, my gosh, this is such a coincidence!” She pulls you closer, smiling far too wide. “Lucas and I both brought our upperclassmen friends! What are the odds?”

“Yeah, so weird,” Lucas says, not as loud as Max but just as transparent. He looks at Max before regarding you and Eddie. “Okay, well, we’re gonna go dance–bye!” The two of them scamper off, leaving you alone with Eddie. If their stilted dialogue wasn’t evidence enough, the way Eddie’s tie perfectly matches your dress certainly clears up their intentions.

Eddie speaks first, shoving his hands in his pants pockets and nervously swiveling his body. “I, uh, think we’ve been set up,” he says with a small, awkward chuckle. “I swear, it wasn’t my idea. Not–not that it’s a bad thing, I just meant, like, if you’re uncomfortable with this, I don’t wanna be held responsible.” His cheeks burn red. “Shit, I need to stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with your own kind laugh, “we might as well make the most of it. Get some punch and make fools of ourselves out there?” You gesture towards the gym’s makeshift dance floor; the band has just started playing Journey’s “Faithfully.” Eddie’s nods, following you to an empty space, and you timidly drape your arms over his shoulders. Taking care to avoid an inappropriate touch, he rests his palms on the small of your back. 

His voice is low when he murmurs in your ear, “you look really beautiful tonight.” He clears his throat and speaks again. “You always look really beautiful, though.”

The two of you sway to the music, swapping shy smiles and fleeting but longing glances. As the song ends, you look over your shoulder. “We’re being spied on,” you report, noting the way the two younger kids are watching you from across the room. You consider your next words before eventually deciding to go for it: “Did you talk to Lucas about me as much as I talked to Max about you?”

“Probably more,” Eddie laughs, bringing you a bit closer. “But I’m interested in comparing notes.”

You nod, staving off any lingering nerves. “Maybe after the dance, we can split a burger from Benny’s and discuss?”

Eddie presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Yeah,” he says; you can feel his lips move against your skin, “I’d like that.”

--

[winchesterwild78]

Brat

Master List

Characters: Ben (Soldier Boy) x Reader (girlfriend), mention of other characters

Warnings: Use of degrading names (consensual), SMUT!, a sprinkle of fluff, Soldier Boy (because he’s a warning all by himself), rough touching, unprotected sexual contact (cover it people)

A/N: Happy Birthday @cheynovak! Just a filthy birthday present for Chey. I hope you enjoy. Y’all don’t read this if you don’t like rough, degrading, but consensual sex. This is just pure SMUT and of course it has Soldier Boy so you know it’s going to be nasty in the best possible way. 

I wrote this fast and edited it fast-please overlook any mistakes.

Minors DNI 18+

You woke up early to the sounds of the birds singing. It was still dark outside, but you had to work. You stretched, groaned and reached your hand over to try and feel your boyfriend of 2 years beside you. You felt a pang of sadness when your hand touched the cold bed. 

A smile creeped across your face, Maybe he got up early to make me breakfast or he has a surprise planned. You climbed out of bed thinking your boyfriend, Ben, or Soldier Boy as the rest of the world knew him, was up making you breakfast. It was your birthday after all. The one day a year where everything should be about you.

You quickly showered and got dressed. You decided to wear the short black pencil skirt and off white thin blouse Ben loved on you. It showed off all his favorite parts of your body, your tits, your hips, and your perfect ass. You also wore the green lace bra that matched his suit. You had it made a few months ago and it drove him wild.

“Now everyone will know you belong to me doll.” He growled when he first saw it. You ordered a few, because sometimes Ben forgot his own strength and would rip your clothes. 

Walking down the hallway of your shared apartment your heart sank. The house was quiet and dark. Ben wasn’t there. You blinked away the tears that filled your eyes. A stray tear fell anyway. Quickly wiping it away you made a coffee, grabbed your stuff and headed to work. 

Vought Tower was a buzz of activity today. As soon as you walked through the doors you felt it. As you passed the security desk, Bob, the head of security waved, smiled and yelled “Happy Birthday!” You smiled and thanked him.

You got on the elevator and pushed your floor. You checked your phone and saw dozens of messages from friends and family, but nothing from Ben. Your heart sank more.

When the elevator arrived at your floor you walked to your office. Passing Ben’s office, you heard him in there talking to someone. Hesitating at the door, you decided to keep walking. 

When you opened your office door you saw the most beautiful bouquet of y/f/f on your desk. It was huge and practically covered your desk. There were other gifts and cards. You sighed, letting out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

Sitting your things down you grabbed the card attached to the flowers. Your heart was thumping with anticipation in your chest. Then your heart sank. These beautiful flowers weren’t from Ben. The card read: Happy Birthday, Y/N! We love you and can’t wait to celebrate later with you. Annie, Huey, Butcher, MM, Frenchie and Kimiko.

Moving the flowers to the side you sent a message to the group text. Which Ben happened to be in too. 

You: Hey guys! Just got in and saw the beautiful flowers. Thank you for remembering my birthday. Love you guys so much! 

Annie: Yay! So glad you liked them. Can’t wait for later.

Huey: Annie and Kimiko picked them out, but Happy Birthday.

Butcher: Happy Birthday, love. 

MM: Yeah, Happy Birthday, Y/N.

Frenchie: Joyeux anniversaire mon amour

Kimiko: 🥰 💝 🎉

Ben: Get back to work!

His message pissed you off, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. You stepped in your office bathroom and slipped off your panties. Knowing when you bent over just enough of your pussy would show. What better way to get back at Ben for forgetting your birthday than to tease him. 

You grabbed your notebook, coffee and pen for the early morning meeting everyone was expected to go to. Walking into the conference room you were greeted by coworkers wishing you a Happy Birthday. You smiled, hugged them and your eyes flicked up to meet Ben’s. His face was cold with no expression. 

One of your male coworkers walked over to you and handed you a small gift and you hugged him. This time when you looked at Ben you saw a flash of anger and jealousy in his eyes as his jaw clenched. You smirked. 

Taking a seat, you decided to sit away from Ben. Your usual seat was right beside him. His mouth slightly opened when he saw you sit down. Whispers filled the room, which only intensified Ben’s growing frustration. 

“Alright, let's shut up and get to business.” Ben’s voice boomed through the room. A hushed silence fell. The tension in the air crackled. You sat in the meeting staring Ben down. Biting your lip, leaning forward and letting just the top of your breasts show. At one point Ben asked for the documents you had. Walking over to him you handed them to him. You ‘accidentally’ dropped your pen as you walked away and you bent down to pick it up. Ben saw you weren’t wearing any panties. A low growl came from his chest. You smirked when you saw Ben adjust himself. 

By the end of the meeting the tension in the air between you and Ben was so thick and strained. It was like a rubber band being pulled until it was ready to snap. Ben’s voice boomed, laced with frustration and anger as he told everyone to get out. The meeting was over. “Now, everyone get the fuck out and get back to work. Y/N, I need you to stay. I need to talk to you.” 

You gathered your things and looked up at Ben, “Sorry Soldier Boy, I have another meeting I have to get to. Whatever you need will have to wait.” Annie smirked as you gathered the rest of your stuff and sauntered out of the room.

Ben growled in frustration. You heard his heavy footsteps behind you, “I told you to stay, that I needed to talk to you.” “I heard you, Soldier Boy, and I told you I had another meeting and you’d have to wait.” 

As you got to your office door, Ben was hot on your heels. Pushing open your office door you felt Ben grab your arm, causing you to drop your things. “Woman, I told you to wait!” “And I told you no!” 

He pushed you against the door closing it. His face inches from yours. “Why do you have to be such a fucking brat?” He growled low. “Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole?” 

Ben crashed his lips on yours, pinning your hands to the door. He growled in your mouth as he deepened the kiss. “You’re such a little slut, walking around this office with your cunt out. Were you hoping someone would fuck your little pussy for your birthday?” 

You bit his lip, “Someone has to, because my boyfriend forgot my fucking birthday.” You pushed past him and bent over to gather your things. You stuck your ass in the air, giving Ben a perfect shot of your glistening folds. 

Ben couldn’t help himself anymore. The sight of you in his favorite outfit, your pussy on full display, just waiting to be filled up. He grabbed your hips and pulled you over to the couch. Throwing you over the arm he hiked up your skirt, revealing how wet you really were. 

A smile tugged at your face. You heard his belt buckle and your walls clenched. Ben slid his thick fingers in between your folds and felt how wet you were for him. “Mmm such a needy little slut aren’t you. Is this all for me, or were you hoping someone else would fill this hole?” 

You wouldn’t answer him, you just smirked and bit your lip. “Answer me, or you don’t get anymore of this.” He thrusted his fingers inside you and then pulled out. You whined, “Yes Ben, I was hoping you’d fill me up. Nobody else.” His fingers went back inside, pulling a moan from your lips, “That’s right baby, who’s pussy is this?” Through shaky breaths you moaned, “Yours, only yours. Please Ben, I need you.” You begged as your body ached for him.

“Such a needy little whore aren’t you? Want my cock to fill you up, fuck a baby into you?” You nodded and moaned. “Nuh-uh, use your words, pretty girl.” “B…b…Ben, please, fill me up. Fuck a baby into me.”

Ben’s cock twitched at my words and he lined himself up and pushed in your dripping hole. You gasp and grip the couch. His hands are grabbing your hips as he’s driving his cock deep inside you. You feel the sting of his fingers digging into your flesh. Then without warning, one of his large hands comes down and smacks your ass hard. The sting sends a shock through your body. You yelped. Ben’s hand rubbed where he’d slapped you. 

His pace is hard and brutal, but you couldn’t get enough of it. Taking your hand you slid it down to your throbbing clit. You start rubbing, chasing your release. “No! Don’t you dare. You don’t get to cum until I make you cum.” Ben slapped your hand away. 

Ben grabbed your hips and pulled you up, he pulled out and walked around to the couch, sitting down. He pulled you on top of him.

Sliding his hands up your shirt, he removed it, revealing your bra. He smiled and you smirked. He carefully unhooked your bra and your breasts sprang free. As he cupped them and started sucking on your nipples, you lined yourself up and sat down on his cock. Taking every inch in quickly. You gasped and placed your hands on his broad chest to steady yourself. 

Rocking your hips back and forth, Ben continued the brutal assault on your tits. One of his hands went into your hair and pulled your head back. Revealing your neck and breasts to him more. You continued to bounce on his cock, feeling your coil build and the need for your release growing stronger. “Please Ben, I need to cum. Please let me cum.” You begged. 

Ben kissed up your neck, and to your ear, “Not yet doll. I’m not done with you yet.” Ben stood up, your legs wrapped around his waist and his cock still inside you. He flipped you over on the couch and threw your legs over his broad shoulders. 

He pounded you into the couch, pushing you further into a fucked out state. Your mind going hazy and all sense going out the window. His hand gripped your neck. Which turned you on more. You trusted Ben, he’d never hurt you, and when he was rough there was always a gentleness to it. Ben loved you and you loved him. 

“You like that? Being fucked by a real man?” You nodded. “I can’t hear you, maybe I should stop.” “No….Ben….don’t….yes….I….like….it. Fuck!” You said through each thrust.

Ben pulled out and you groaned. He stood, pulled you into his arms and placed a soft kiss on your lips. He walked you over to your desk and helped you on it. You sat on the edge and Ben dropped to his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders he started to attack your pussy. Licking and sucking your hole and your clit. Your hands went into his hair and pulled him closer. “Oh fuck, Ben! Just like that baby.” He started eating you like he was a starved man. Pushing two meaty fingers inside and hooking them up. You pushed into him. “Oh Ben, I’m gonna cum, please let me cum.” You were a sweating, panting mess, ready for your release. 

Ben hummed against your clit and sucked hard. “Cum for me darlin’.” That pushed you over the edge. You came with a scream of his name. He lapped your release up, and when he stood you saw his beard was glistening. Ben kissed your lips and you could taste your release. 

He brushed a stray hair off of your sweat covered brow and smiled softly at you. “Benji, fuck a baby into me.” Ben pulled you off the desk and leaned you over it, pushing your belly into the hardwood. His hand grabbed your hips and the other lined himself up. He thrusted in and fucked you hard. Grabbing your hair. The fast, hard pace was pushing your belly and thighs into the desk. You knew you’d have bruises, but you didn’t care. 

As Ben got closer to his release you felt his thrusts get harder and his grunts louder. 

“I’m going to fuck a baby into this pretty little pussy so the whole world knows who you belong to.” Ben came with a grunt, you felt his release coating your walls. You bit your lip at the thought of having his baby. You were in love with him and saw a future with him. 

As Ben softened he pulled out, watching some of his cum fall to the floor. He smirked. He gently helped you up and grabbed a tissue to clean you. After the two of you got dressed, Ben kissed you. His lips, soft and gentle on yours. “I love you, Ben. That was amazing.”  “I love you too, Y/N. Happy Birthday, baby. Even if you are a brat.” 

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.  

Tags: 

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573 

@k-slla @jackles010378 

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 

@roseblue373 @cheynovak 

@jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa 

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75 

@superrey @kamisobsessed

[lovelytsunoda]

just like heaven // yuki tsunoda

summary: love is in the air at y/n’s cousins wedding, and it’s got yuki in a loving mood.

pairing: yuki tsunoda x female reader

warnings: 18+ smutty and romantic content :) sex in a library, semi-public sex, two fuckers who are so madly in love I’ve become jealous of my own writing, the library is full of bibles and religious text so does that mean this might be sacrilege? yuki may or may not have some sort of marriage related kink

the air smelled like roses and freshly cut grass, heavy with a feeling of love, and the hazy smoke coming from the fire pit at the head of the tent. a dance floor had been cleared out in the middle of the uneven grassy surface, a portable wooden floor laid out as a makeshift dance floor. it had clearly once been white, but had stained over the years.

yuki tsunoda sat at the groom's table, watching with a lovestruck gaze as his eyes found his girlfriend, who was dancing with her cousin in the middle of the floor. huey lewis and the news played from the bluetooth speaker in the corner, the bride circulating the room and speaking to relatives.

y/n and her cousin had been close once upon a time. they were only a year apart in age, and had both been babysat by their grandmother while their mothers worked. they fell out of touch a little as they got older, only seeing each other at major holidays, but when will had called y/n to announce that he had gotten engaged, y/n was over teh moon for him.

yuki thought she looked beautiful in the soft glow of the fairy lights, her red dress swirling around her thighs as she danced uninhibited, not worrying about how she appeared to the other wedding guests. her hair shone in the light, her smile radiant.

and yuki wondered if one day, perhaps he and y/n would be sharing a similar stage. except she would be wearing white, and they would have matching silver rings on their fingers.

as the song changed, yuki stepped away from teh table and towards the dancefloor, hoping to steal a moment with his lover as will scanned the tent for his wife.

"congratulations, will. give my best to claire as well, just in case i don't see her again before the evening ends." y/n said, giving her cousin a hug before he sauntered off to find claire.

yuki beamed at her, extending a hand. "may i have this dance, my fair maiden?"

"yes, you may." she smiled, wrapping her arms around yuki and tucking her body into his as they began to sway to the music.

in her heels, she was taller than him, in the same way that jason statham's wife towered over the actor. but yuki didn't mind. if anything, it made him swoon even more.

as they danced, his mind began to wander. what song would they have their first dance to? would it be that inxs song she liked? or would it be one direction, a callback to the girl who dreamed of her wedding but never thought it would come? what would they serve? a pasta bar, or a buffet line?

"whatcha' thinking about?" she hummed, forehead against his.

"us. you. forever." yuki sighed. "i want this to be us someday. all of it. the white dress, the speeches, the expensive food. surrounded by the people we love the most."

her heart softened, and she bit back a cry, feeling tears stinging the back of her eyes. weddings always did have a way of making her emotional.

"oh, yuki." she said softly, leaning in for a kiss. "i love you forever. when the time is right, and we can take the proper time to plan and to book a honeymoon. because you're it for me. all i want for the rest of my life. but i'm not in a rush."

"neither am i.” yuki smiled, kissing her knuckles. “I love you forever.”

the song ended, y/n easing back on her heels and wincing as she realized just how sore her feet were in her pale pink stilettos. she had prepared for this and packed a pair of thick-soled sandals in her tote bag, stowed gently underneath the grooms table.

back at the table, yuki helped her ease he sore feet out of their shoes, slipping a jacket around her shoulders as she slipped into her sandals. she kissed him on the cheek, wrapping the jacket tighter around her body as she rested her head on his shoulder.

it was hard not to feel giddy when surrounded by so much love. two years ago, she would have left the celebration feeling melancholia, tainted by the fear that she might never find her person. today, she hoped that she could hold on to the love she had, the feeling of safety and security that yuki brought her.

“you cold, love?” yuki asked, lips pressed against her forehead. “we can pop back inside the church for a moment to warm up if you want.”

“yeah, I need a minute of quiet, I think.” she agreed, kissing the underside of yukis jaw before reaching for her silver clutch purse.

yuki gently pulled her chair away from the table, taking her hand as she got to her feet. tucking his arm around her waist, he pulled her close as they ducked out of the white canvas party tent. she could feel the dewy grass on her feet, one hand holding her skirt away from the damp. her lovers hand dropped down her back, comfortingly running over her bum, and then her hip as they neared the low brick church building.

yn hadn’t been a church-goer in her youth, only attending for family functions, but she appreciated the generous plot of land that the religious institution rested on. it was a stunning view over the hill, peering into the entire valley below.

they slipped inside the church, y/n sighing contentedly as she gradually warmed to the inside temperature. yuki took her free hand, pulling her in for a kiss. she hummed against his lips, sighing against his body.

“come on, I want to show you something.” she laughed, practically dragging yuki behind her as she took off down the hallway. “I used to hide in here to get out of listening to sermons. especially when my cousins got baptized a few years ago, I got restless listening to the pastor talk so I went for a walk and stumbled upon this place.”

she tried the doorknob, delighted to find it unlocked as she pushed the door inwards. the door opened into a small library. the couple were surrounded by tall bookshelves filled with leather bound volumes of religious texts, the far wall filled with ornate stained glass windows, casting the wooden floor in varying colours as she sun started to fade from the sky.

“there are better books up top. there also used to be a rolling ladder in here but pastor frankie had to take it out after a choirboy fell off it and broke his arm trying to find a copy of miss chatterley's lover.”

"no shit." yuki chuckled, helping her out of the jacket draped over her shoulders. "this is quite the place."

"that it is." she laughed softly in return, reaching for the lapels of her lover's shirt. "come here."

still laughing, she pressed her lips to his, relaxing in his arms and letting herself fall into the kiss. she never had to be anything she wasn't with yuki. she trusted him more than she had ever trusted anybody else. he knew her inside and out, in mind and soul and in body. his lips were grounding against hers, pillowy soft and applying just the right amount of pressure against her own.

it was incredible how responsive she was to yuki's touch. she hadn't come in to the library with the intentions of having sex up against shelves of leather bound books, or sprawled out on the vintage wooden desk, yet as she sighed under his touch, she could feel her nerve endings crackling with life. she moaned into the kiss as his hand trailed up the slit in her dress to clutch at her thigh, and she was a goner. his lips trailed across her neck, his tongue darting out to kitten-lick at her pulse point and she felt her knees go weak.

"babe, in a church?"

yuki pulled away to look at her, his eyes soft and full of adoration. "you always said you wanted to be romanced in a library. i'm sure this isn't what you had in mind, but it's good enough for me. if you want it, of course."

she smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "don't stop now."

and he didn't. yuki backed her against the desk, pulling her legs up and around his waist. her sandals fell to the floor as his fingers fumbled clumsily with the zipper on the back of her dress. giggling softly, she pushed his hands away, pulling the stubborn zip down by herself before she guided his hands back towards her exposed breasts.

her thighs tingled with anticipation, and she could feel the wet spot on her lacy panties growing as yuki massaged her tender breasts, rolling her peaked nipples between his fingers, the pendant of her sliver necklace resting just above them.

"you're so beautiful." he whispered, scared that speaking any louder would ruin this magical moment they had created.

"you're not too bad yourself, handsome." she hummed, caressing his face.

she tilted her head up, kissing him again. harder this time, her tongue scraping against his lips, begging desperately for entrance as she pressed up against him, searching for friction to ease the ache between her thighs. it was awkward, given the seating arrangements in the library, but she managed to grind against his dress pants, one hand dropping from his neck to his cock as his lips parted enough to allow their tongues to touch.

she sighed breathily under his touch, yuki's hand gently caressing her bare thighs as he reached for her lacy white panties. gripping the edges of the table, she leveraged her weight to raise her hips, allowing her lover to peel the fabric away from her body. he slipped the panties into the pocket of his slacks before raising her knees and pressing kisses to her thighs.

"tell me what you want, my love. my tongue, my fingers, my cock. all of it is yours, just say the word." he rasped, running his thumb over her clit.

"that thing you do with your fingers." she hummed, canting her hips forward, trying to capture his slender fingers inside her dripping center. "you know the one."

"the one that makes you laugh, or the one that makes you scream?"

"both."

she gasped as his fingers slipped into her with little resistance, the driver scissoring both fingers, pushing up against her velvet-soft walls. she bit back a curse, tilting her head back and exposing her neck for him to kiss and suck at.

his lips were warm and soft as he peppered her skin with delicate, soft kisses, in contrast to the lightning-sharp way that he moved his fingers inside of her.

"fuck, that feels good." she breathed, digging her nails into his shoulders through the fabric of his dress shirt, breathing heavy as pants turned into moans.

the light from the stained glass window reflected over her skin, bathing her in the warm colors and contrasting shades created by the glass artwork. the sight took yuki's breath away, a part of him wondering if there was a way to capture that image and sear it into his brain forever. she looked positvely angelic, lips slightly parted, back arched in pleasure.

“that’s my girl. that’s my sexy fucking girl. are you going to come on my fingers, sweet girl?”

she gripped his arms, nodding furiously as she whined out a ‘yes’, grinding against his fingers as he pressed the heel of his hand against her clit.

“yuki, oh my god, shit.” she whined, burying her head in his neck.

his lips were soft against her hairline as he talked her through it, mumbling sweet nothings and dotting her sweaty skin with kisses as he finger-fucked her towards the edge.

“atta girl. I’ve got you, just breathe. my best girl. my perfect girl, coming so good for me.”

she sighed as she came, a breathy, whiny sound, fingers tightening around his biceps.

“you’re safe, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” yuki whispered, running a hand up and down her back. “you did so good, angel.”

she kissed him slowly, relishing in the feeling of his lips against hers. she smiled into the kiss, her hands exploring the expanse of muscle through his shirt.

her french-manicured nails found the buttons on his dress shirt, slowly popping them open. she kissed the warm skin on his chest as she went down, fingers moving towards the button on his pants.

“does my pretty baby want my dick?” yuki crooned, caressing her cheek as he looked down at her adoringly. “anything you want from me, just say the word.”

“babe, I always want your dick.” she smiled, taking him in her palm, stroking up and down his length. bathed in the light from the window, she thought he looked like a greek god.

she lined him up with her entrance, hiking both legs over his hips and allowing him to push himself inside of her. inch by inch, he slipped in slowly, his forehead resting against hers before he leaned in to kiss her, trading moans into each others mouths as he bottomed out.

he could die here and be happy, wrapped up in the woman he loved, her warm walls cushioning him on all sides. this overwhelming feeling of closeness. he started to move, thrusting slowly and interspersing the movements with swivels and grinds of the hips, rubbing against her soft, plushy walls, drawing every little whine and breath and pant from her lungs.

“oh god, baby, that’s incredible.” she tilted her hips forward, head rolling back as she tried to take him deeper.

one of her hands dropped to the table to support her body weight, the other tangling in yukis hair. she pulled gently, watching with pleasure as his eyes rolled back, a soft growl leaving his throat. in response, he thrusted harder, deeper.

“that’s my sweet girl. looking so fucking pretty with my rock-hard dick buried inside you. all fucking mine to worship. you know what I think about when I get off? our future. domestic things. picking out silverware, buying our forever house. you in a white dress, a big fucking diamond on your finger. you’re it for me.”

he was thrusting quicker now, pulling out almost halfway before slamming back in again, his hands gripping her thighs so tightly she worried there might be bruises. his eyes weee trained on her chest, captivated by the way her breasts bounced from the force.

“yes, yes.” she moaned, back arched as she kissed his neck, leaving a series of small hickeys in her wake. “fuck, I want everything with you, too.”

“yeah, you want me to make you my pretty perfect wife?”

“god, yes.” she was certain she was dripping onto the table, the room filled with laboured breathing and the wet sounds of yukis cock splitting her in half. “fuck, baby, I love you so much.”

the coil in her stomach was wound tighter than a wire, and she could feel that she was on the edge. any second now, she’d snap.

“fill me up.” she whined. “fucking make me yours.”

“want you to come first.” he rasped, dropping his hand to her sensitive clit. “love you so much, sweet girl. just let me make you feel so so good, okay?”

she kissed him again, fingers in his hair, then on his shoulders, searching for purchase as she hid her face in his broad chest. she always got shy when her orgasms approached. yuki found it endearing, and soft.

“I’ve got you pretty girl. come for me. just let go, make a pretty little mess on my dick.”

she came with a loud moan, feeling her legs go slack in her lovers grip as she rested all of her weight on him, her head nestled comfortably between shoulder and neck, his soft fingertips trailing up and down her thighs, his gentle voice reminding her to breathe through it.

“fuck, baby, I love you so much. I love you. I love you.” he repeated it like a chant as he reached his own climax, stuttering his words as he spilled inside her. “god, you’re so good to me.”

after a small moment to catch their breaths, yuki gently pulled out. she whined at the loss of contact, reading her whine for a contented sigh when yuki pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, gentle hands helping her readjust her dress.

“babe, I think I’m dripping on the table.” she admitted, red-faced and shy. “what did you do with my underwear?”

yuki grinned roguishly, dramatically producing the offending pair of panties from his pockets. “kept them nice and safe for you.”

“sure you did.” she laughed easing herself off the table, deliberately not looking at the mess she’d left behind.

while she redressed, yuki searched the pockets of his suit jacket for his red pocket square, u folding it and using the thin, expensive fabric to clean all evidence of their tryst off the hardwood.

“yuki, come on! not the pocket square!” she laughed, using her fingers to comb through her hair. “you’re so gross.”

“what else was I supposed to use?” he laughed, putting the square in his pocket and slipping the jacket over his shoulders. he pulled her in for a soft kiss, hands gently caressing her curves. “come on, let’s get back to the party.”

the pair stepped out of the library, linked arm in arm, content and sated as they turned to walk out of the church, and found themselves bumping headfirst into will and claire. judging by the lipstick stain on wills collar, and the flushed red of claire’s face, the happy couple had just snuck away to do the same.

“we never speak of this again.” will groaned, averting his eyes. “ever!”

[polarisbibliotheque]

Can You Hear The Rumble? - Vergil x Reader

Music Inspired Fics (Devil May Music) - Cirice, by Ghost

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: Everyone knew the kind of demon a hunter should be wary about is the one who plays with their victim's minds. You and Vergil were very proud on the outside - but how would it be when having to save each other on the inside for the first time?

TRIGGER WARNING: A lot of blood, cuts, bruises, scars and suffering on both Vergil and the reader's sides. The reader also struggles with perfection and self-loathing - in a "I'm never going to be a good person" kind of way, because I needed to get more intimate on the reader's part as well - and there are scenes with the reader covered in cuts and bleeding, though not self-imposed, it could be read like that. Those scenes are the reader's and Vergil's internal images of themselves. Reader and Vergil meet each other on their imperfections and the darkest parts of their souls, so BE WARNED. This might not be everyone's cup of tea and there are lots of potential triggers.

Author's Note: @tokkis-shelf asked me if Vergil's part of the Halloween special was inspired by Cirice, and here we are now. It is what kickstarted the song-fic requests! As with a lot of people, I think, Cirice is pretty personal to me.

In the video, it was so comforting to me seeing the black sheep being represented hahahaha and I guess that's why people love it so much. The part where they hold hands? I died, I'd never let go, I cry my soul out upon watching. (I did a very similar drawing to that scene when I was in school around 15 years ago, so it drop-kicked me out of my body xD)

Now, when writing this, I kept in mind that this song has a double meaning and can be quite comforting and quite manipulative at the same time - hence why I use the "can't you see that you're lost without me?" in two different situations, 'cause I think Cirice can be interpreted in so many ways and each person takes what they need from this song. I hope you guys like it!!

Plus, the song the reader and Dante sing at the end is The Power of Love, by Huey Lewis and The News

Cirice, by Ghost

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

It happened every time Vergil walked in the darkness.

That voice in the back of his head, silently taunting him, the hiss of a quiet viper in the hopes of taking him back to the darkest parts of his soul. Quiet, lurking, whispering… Mundus always there, somewhere in the folds of his consciousness, guiding him back into the void – luring Vergil back into his shackles.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

As if Vergil couldn’t belong anywhere else, as if his place was in Hell. After all he had been through, after all the sins he perpetrated, he believed wholeheartedly there was no hope for him at all – only a fool’s hope; only a glimmer of a wish he wasn’t as tainted as he was… A desire to not be such a monster as he was.

Pacing quietly through the empty cathedral, Vergil had already learned not to give in to those thoughts – to keep them at bay, as only a whisper in the darkness, of trickster voices that would always remind him of how inhuman he was.

It was times like this Vergil longed for the faint glimmer of the moon, or the warm ghostly light of a candle. It was easy to get lost in the dark, but a single ray of light could help through the direst of situations. That night, though, it seemed like the moon had fallen asleep behind the curtains of the clouds – Selene hiding her tears for her earthly lover in his eternal sleep.

None of you knew what that night entailed – you weren’t even certain what you were dealing with. That was the reason why Lady strutted in the Devil May Cry, not too fond of taking a job she didn’t know if it was up to her abilities.

“Well, looks like I have a new one for you to pay your debt, big guy!” Her singsong voice interrupted the ambience of the jukebox; Lady entering the shop with Kalina Ann and all.

“Eh, I’m never gonna be free of my debt, Lady, let’s be honest.” Dante sighed, putting his feet down and throwing his magazine across the table, shooting her a serious glare. “But things have been borin’ lately, so one of your odd jobs’ not gonna hurt. Whaddya have for me?”

“You talk as if I never help you enough to maintain this place.” She lifted one eyebrow, approaching the big desk at the middle of the shop.

“Gotta give the woman credit, Dante. Last month’s bills were on her.” You shrugged as you had finally come out of your shower, happy to see Lady around, still drying your hair with the towel as you went down the stairs.

“See? Someone who has a bit of common sense.” Her smile was nothing short of devilish as she gestured towards you.

“You know where you are, Lady. ‘Common sense’ isn’t much of a thing in this household.” You greeted her by quickly blowing her a kiss while passing by, making your way towards the couch where Vergil was quietly reading.

“Ey, you’re hurtin’ my feelings like that.” Dante put one of his hands over his heart, laughing alongside you as you kept on your way. “But fine. I’ll give ya that, Lady. So, what’s up? What job do you wanna throw at me this time?”

“I am not throwing it at you.” And there it was: you could always see when Dante stroke a nerve when Lady got defensive and with that fiery stare on her multicolored eyes. “If you wanna do it, great, if you don’t, I can deal with it myself just fine. I’m here to be a good friend since you can barely afford all that pizza you keep stuffing yourself with!”

As you sat by Vergil’s side, you both exchanged a telling glare. Just like you, Vergil was used to observing people. Granted, he didn’t know Lady as much as Dante or even you, but he did know her since he was very young. That fiery, easy-to-anger personality had been there since they first met at the Temen-ni-gru – and Vergil argued it was one of Lady’s traits that would never change.

Something he was quite pleased with, if he had to be honest with himself. It was a good trait for a human demon hunter like her. Dante always praised human’s hearts and particularly their love and empathy – Vergil praised their burning anger that made them unconquerable in the direst of circumstances.

“Jeez, alright, alright, don’t shoot me!” Dante raised his hands as if he was at gunpoint, making you wheeze quietly. Vergil side-eyed you for a while – half judging, half holding his own laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“Humpf.” Lady rolled her eyes and took a slice of pizza from the box resting on the desk, pointing at Dante with it right after. “You know I wouldn’t bring you something if it wasn’t important.”

“Actually, you would.” With those words, Dante rested his arms crossed on the table – all the while, you and Vergil watched it all as if it was a show. Who needed a TV when you had those two? “But you’re bein’ too dodgy ‘bout it, babe. What’s goin’ on?”

“I got a call from a priest in a city nearby.” Lady’s answer was uncharacteristically quiet, followed by a bite from the pizza while she seemed pensive and in any hurry to chew it. “I’ve done some jobs there, know the guy, he’s nice. All the times he called me, it was always a quick, good-paying job. He said some weird things have been happening at the cathedral for the last couple of weeks.”

“Not to sound mean, but there’s always somethin’ strange happenin’ at churches.” Dante’s eyes carried a bit of skepticism: ‘weird things’ didn’t always entail a job for the Devil May Cry – and it usually ended with all of you hunting a rogue raccoon or something.

“I know. But this guy, he doesn’t get scared easy, ok? He’s one of those types of priests who’ll try to shoot down a couple of demons with a shotgun and, if that doesn’t work, he gives me a call.” Those words, though, made you and the Spardas raise your eyebrows. Indeed, it was a rare type of priest, but a good one to keep as acquaintance. “He said the cathedral is increasingly quiet, even from noises outside, with occasional distant noises that are not done by any of those who live there. After it all started, the other priests reported having weird nightmares, of being chased by something in the dark, inside the cathedral – this thing whispering things they can’t understand. Alright if it happened to one or two, but soon all of them started waking up in the middle of the night with similar nightmares – and, catch this, the higher ups of the clergy didn’t tell the common priests about it, but they all reported the very same dream.” Those words caught everyone’s attention. Vergil finally closed his book and leaned forward, paying attention to Lady’s retelling of the priest’s misfortunes. “The priest has been trying to figure out what’s going on, but some old books appear to go missing from the library, only to re-appear as if nothing has happened. Some books are missing pages, something that never happened before. He also said the inside of the cathedral has been getting darker and darker as the weeks go by. As if something is approaching – his words, not mine.”

Vergil immediately furrowed his brows and seemed to turn into an ice sculpture right by your side. You risked a glance, finding him with his usual dark aura – pensive, somber and quiet; hunter’s eyes showing themselves in a matter of seconds.

“Rare are the creatures in Hell in search for knowledge…” He muttered loud enough for his brother and Lady to turn their attention to him. “But those who do, are usually among the worst. Haunting noises, torn books, nightmares, dead silence and total darkness…”

“What? You think those Hell Piranhas came out of their pit?” Dante’s question had a bit of fun in the words, but his eyes were serious and he didn’t allow his lips to smile.

“Could be. Could also be a demon trying to mimic them to hide something else.”

“Hell Piranhas?” You and Lady didn’t need a cue to ask at the very same time. Neither of you had ever heard of that – and both of you had heard of a lot.

“This is not their name, but it is how Dante calls them since we were kids.” Vergil almost sighed in response.

“How we both called ‘em. Mister smart-pants over here isn’t that much better than lil’ ol’ me.” Dante winked at both of you, making you giggle quietly in return. “They’re kinda like illusion demons, but they like stayin’ in the darkness and gatherin’ knowledge. Usually work for someone bigger, though.”

“And even if they don’t, they swallow up all their knowledge and that is dangerous in itself. Afterwards, they feed from the victims they have been toying for so long.” Vergil continued Dante’s thought, ignoring his brother’s previous words. The more you didn’t think about what Dante had said about him, the better – for Vergil couldn’t deny it. “They hunt in packs, and the more victims, the more powerful they become. Some call them the Pit Deceivers, others call them the Lie Weavers…”

“You call them Hell Piranhas.” You concluded bluntly, making Vergil stare at the horizon with emptiness in his eyes – he could say all he wanted, flex all his demonic knowledge, you heard the Piranhas and now you’d never forget it.

“I never heard of them.” Lady had her eyebrows furrowed, searching her memory for some story like that.

“They either don’t leave the pit that much or not many humans survive to tell the story. That’s why.” Dante pointed at a great, old book Vergil had left on one of the tables a long time ago and now it was its official resting place. “You can find it only in the likes of the Codex Daemonica.”

“So either we have them around, or it’s something else. Something bigger. Right?” As you asked, Vergil only agreed with his head as the attentions turned to you. “Or something mimicking the Piranhas.” And Vergil had to sigh at your addition. He would never have peace again. “The mimic or the master, what kind of demon would the Piranhas answer to? If they are that obscure, I take it their existence is more of a niche knowledge in Hell rather than a common information.”

“On that, you are correct…” Vergil murmured in response, falling back into his pensive demeanor. You knew he would be lost for a while.

“See? Good thing I brought this for you, then.” Lady waved dismissively at Dante, but you could sense a little edge in her playful voice. Dealing with big things was fine, same as dealing with cruel demons and the ones that played the big-scary-one persona. Unknown demons were another kind of monster – one only Dante and Vergil used to deal with. “Plus, they always pay well.”

“Eh, I won’t be seein’ much of that money, if I know ya well.” Dante scoffed, having a small smile hidden in the corner of his lips; his tone and demeanor, though, were quite somber and you knew the red devil was taking it seriously.

“If you don’t mind, Dante, I would like to take over this one.” Vergil finally declared while getting up from the couch. “I know some of the hellish creatures who might make use of the Weavers or mimic them.”

“Fine for me, I’m needin’ some time to rest.” Dante sighed, but looked right back at you while Vergil rested his book on the big Devil May Cry desk. “But I’m gonna feel a lot better with someone around to keep an eye on ‘im, pretty thing.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on letting you guys deal with this all by yourselves anyway.” You got up from the couch, immediately receiving a glare from Vergil. “I’m going, blue devil, whether you want it or not. I want to get acquainted with these Piranhas.”

Vergil only closed his eyes, letting out the longest and most regretful sigh you ever heard in your life.

And there you were – although Vergil lost track of you quite a while ago. He knew the stirrings rippling through his heart when you were in danger; and being the fierce human you were, Vergil wasn’t worried about having you search for the demons in the cathedral.

There was, though, a slight uneasiness. That voice echoing in the darkest parts of his soul, it always came as an omen – causing nothing but destruction, inside or outside of himself. Vergil never could really say which one would be, but both were devastating.

“Veeeeergil…”

His steps came to a dry halt in the middle of the cathedral. The night outside the colorful stained-glass windows was pitch black, robbing the colors of their warmth and light – the fire on the candles, long dead in that cold night. The whisper that crept to his ears, like stark chalk on a chalkboard, dragged itself through the marble floor and took a hold of his soul in its clutches.

It was a different kind of sound – different from the ones inside himself, calling him to the darkness. It was from the outside… The Lie Weavers. Slowly coming up, finding him as their next victim. He was close to one of the places they were certainly lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for someone they could consume.

Vergil never feared the darkness. Tightening his grip around Yamato, his steps resumed his way, approaching the places in the cathedral the faint light of the night could barely touch. Those demons should have known their end was near, and he was the harbinger of their demise – he expected all kinds of trickery, of resistance, of fight from them.

He did not expect to hear a familiar voice, filled with uncertainty.

“Vergil…?”

Halting his steps once more, this time his silvery eyes lost their predatorial gaze as his heart jumped in his chest – even if for a slight second.

“Mother?”

His answer was but a whisper before he was swallowed by darkness.

*

When engaging with illusion demons, one should be aware of not falling into their element: when engulfed by it, those demons were more powerful than expected, able to subdue even the strongest of foes. Breaking from their control required mental and emotional discipline rather than brute force.

It was a slight second – a foolish slip from his human soul, disarmed by the trickery of Eva’s voice – and Vergil was surrounded by a sea of darkness and turmoil. His heart stirred with anger towards himself for being such a child, a vulnerable stupid child, tricked by a puppet of something his heart missed so much.

Eva was long dead. There was no demon able to bring her back. And he would never see her again. All that logic was tossed aside in a spark of a second by his stupid human heart, trembling upon hearing her speak his name again. Granted, Vergil only heard his mother in his dreams, barely remembering how her voice sounded in reality, and this time he heard outside himself – but he should have seen it coming. Illusion demons, trickster demons, cruel demons… They all relied on the barely closed scars inside his damned human soul.

Vergil could always count on them to re-open those wounds, making him bleed as much as he did on the floor of that cursed cemetery so many years ago – and he was a fool to fall for it after he had been through so much.

“Vergil… Can you hear me…?”

“I can, you damned deceiver. You can stop these theatrics – mimicking my dead mother will not affect me.” His voice cut through the dark like the sharpest of ice, his predatorial gaze back into his silver eyes.

“I… Don’t understand you, son. I cannot find you.” Her voice had a tinge of sorrow and desperation – but it was exactly like Eva’s voice. Vergil remembered it with a tinge of gold, probably a result of the haze of nostalgia, but today it was grounded and melancholic – perhaps, that was how Eva had always sounded… He just didn’t remember it. “I can’t find you. You aren’t home.”

“I haven’t been home for a long while.” Vergil didn’t even try to hide the growl that raised from his chest as he argued with that creature. He was used to having a puppet of his mother parading in front of him to hurt his human soul even more, but that was already getting on his nerves. Taunting him about the fact his mother ran to find him that fateful night wasn’t part of the usual games those filthy demons played – and to say they were honing his wrath was an understatement. “And I will never be back.”

“I… I cannot see you, Vergil. Where are you…? Why…?” He could hear the weeping in her voice, faint sobbing while the desperation made her words tremble. Vergil raised his head in the darkness, holding his own heart not to quiver: she wasn’t real and it was all a gimmick to affect him. He would not be affected. He was stronger than that. “Why couldn’t I save you? Those demons they… They hurt you, didn’t they? Oh, my child! My son! They hurt you and I could do nothing! I couldn’t be your mother!”

“Enough with this, filthy, hellish creature!” His voice finally exploded from his chest, roaring in the dark and echoing through the void, finding only silence. “You have no right to desecrate my mother’s memory like this! Shut your putrid mouth and stop with your rancid lies!”

The glint of the Yamato being unsheathed made the darkness recoil for a split second, only to envelop the Dark Slayer once more. His grip was tight, his eyes fiercely looking for his first opponent to direct a very well-placed judgement cut that could end all those creatures with just one swing of his hand. Vergil had enough and all the patience he carried in his being wouldn’t be enough to stop him from overkilling those demons – he just had to know where to direct his wrath.

“Don’t say those words, Vergil… You are not… Not like this.” Her voice still trembled, and his hand was still certain around Yamato. Vergil knew quite well at that state he was a weapon of mass destruction, he just had to find his opponent. His soul was screaming for him to do that, to put a stop to all that mockery. “You are good… You are my son.”

Vergil would have sliced that demon into a thousand million pieces without flinching, even if it took the form of his mother – but his eyes widened as a soft, warm hand touched his face. In all those years being taunted by demons, being tricked and mocked, seeing so many puppets of Eva, Sparda and Dante, none of them had touched him… And none of them genuinely felt like them.

It had been so many lost years he hadn’t felt his mother’s touch – last time, she could cup his entire face, thumb lovingly caressing his innocent eyebrows, but now her thumb could only reach his cheekbones. Nevertheless, it felt like her: not like a golden, nostalgic lost memory of how she felt, but exactly like Eva’s hands, even with the slight roughness of her continuous gardening.

“It took me so long to find you… I am so sorry.”

“You are not my mother.”

“Don’t say that.” Her answer was a sorrowful whisper, her thumb now carefully caressing his sharp cheekbone. Vergil closed his eyes, unable to move, convincing himself all of that wasn’t real and not allowing his heart to sway – forcing his arms to remain frozen by his side, fighting the urge to embrace her. Reminding himself: his mother was dead, killed while trying to save him, a long time ago, and nothing could bring her back. “Your heart hasn’t hardened as much as not to recognize me. You…” Her voice once more became soft, as if trying to do the same with his soul. “You are not a monster… You are my son, my Vergil.”

With those words, Eva’s hand was finally met with a tear – melting the ice from those silvery eyes.

*

There was an impending storm rumbling inside your chest.

Whenever that turmoil took ahold of your heart, you knew Vergil was in trouble. You had just finished checking your side of the cathedral, finding some things out of the ordinary but no demons, when the waves became aggressive in your chest. Your steps were already taking you to meet him, but you found yourself walking even hastier – the sound, though, eaten by the shadows that seemed to only grow around you.

Neither of you had calm seas of feelings: they usually raged like a maelstrom of emotions you could barely get through without some destruction – be it internal or external. But there was a certain note of melancholy and desperation in your heart at that moment that made you know Vergil was hurting – and that hurting, you knew quite well.

It was almost ironic how you apparently despised each other at the beginning, but after a while you came to understand; that aversion was there because you, in a certain way, were a mirror of each other. You could see in him the traits in your soul you disliked the most, and Vergil did see in you the same thing – those traits, however, were the same ones that brought you together, and made both you and Vergil feel seen and understood for the first time in your lives.

He didn’t judge your sins, as you didn’t judge his. To your eyes, he was never a monster, and to his, you could never be as crooked as you thought you were. You found each other in imperfection and, in that, you managed to talk and feel on the same level – after that, every feeling of admiration, care and love was easy to blossom.

You understood that storm, that thunder rumbling inside your chest at that very moment. You could feel it exactly the way he felt – and you knew Vergil needed help… Even if he would never say so himself.

You couldn’t hear or see him, though. You found yourself exactly at his area of patrol in the cathedral, but there was no clue as where your blue devil had gone – and for him to completely disappear, imposing presence and all, was quite an achievement in itself. The air was stiff, heavy as if the windows had never been opened, eating up any sound from the inside and the outside. The darkness was heavier than the one you had previously patrolled, shadows allowing only a few glimpses of the opulent decoration and the path in front of you – although, you couldn’t see more than a few meters beyond your feet.

If you couldn’t trust your sight or your hearing to find him, you could trust your heart: the storm would guide you. Closing your eyes, you allowed your feelings to take over, following with your footsteps in the direction you could hear his soul calling.

Those shadow creatures wouldn’t be able to hide him from you: no matter what happened or where you found yourselves, you would always be able to feel Vergil’s presence and find him in the darkest of hours.

And as the thunder in your chest cracked violently, your feet came to a halt and you opened your eyes.

Right in front of you, there was only darkness. Not like in the shadows that took the cathedral little by little, but pitch-black darkness, that no light could cast aside. To enter it would mean to be completely bare: vulnerable, lost, without guidance, naked – but the screaming in your soul made it very clear Vergil was in there.

Contrary to your lover, you were afraid of the dark. You always preferred to have a little light by your side, for you never knew what could be lurking alongside you, ready to pounce and drag you to certain suffering and death. You protected yourself by being forever vigilant, as you always did – a trait that exhausted you, yes, but luckily, in the last few years, you had Vergil around to keep a light by you when your body started giving out.

For that reason, you would never fear entering the darkness for him.

And with a deep breath, your bold steps took you inside the dark.

*

Your feet were cold, bare, stumbling over a sticky floor. Even if your eyes could see only darkness, you felt the freezing air of that night slicing your skin: you were shirtless and something was hurting… Oozing. The cold wind mixed with a faint warmness that leaked from the open wounds on your skin.

Blood. You were bleeding.

Your arms immediately wrapped around you – those scars, they were showing. They never showed before.

Running your hands quickly over your body, you could feel the warm blood slipping through your fingers; some wounds barely holding themselves closed while others still poured as in the day they were created.

That was the version of yourself you used to fiercely hide. None of those wounds were physical, none of them could be seen… But whenever you looked in the mirror, you saw them there, under your skin, under your soul, quietly resting until you couldn’t hide them anymore.

“You are lost…”

It was always the same voice, of something dark, something inside you that could break your soul if you didn’t shove it back into the darkness like you always did. That was why you were afraid; that was why Vergil always kept a faint glow by your side whenever you couldn’t hold yourself together. The dark was dangerous to you – to both of you.

“You are lost without me…”

“I can survive quite well without you…!” You growled to the darkness, keeping that part of yourself at bay. The part that gave in to the pain, that bathed in the blood and didn’t want to get up… And the part that would bathe and rise in rage, making you survive at great cost to those around you.

You were past that. And you didn’t need that to survive. You didn’t have to survive, you could live.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

“Vergil!” Your scream was a roar in the dark, looking for the one you plunged into the darkness to find. You wouldn’t give in to the trickery of those Piranhas – and you would get Vergil out of there.

They would learn they shouldn’t fear only the son of Sparda: they should also fear you.

“You think you can find him…?” After the mischievous ethereal voice questioned, you heard a giggle rippling around your feet as you stumbled on the sticky floor to find your lover. “You think you are that good? You think you aren’t a monster?”

You furrowed your brows, doing your best to ignore the voices. You knew it was that part inside of you that always taunted how broken you were, how imperfect your soul was. For the longest time you believed there was nothing good in you, nothing to save you from a life of loneliness, until you crossed paths with Vergil.

He was broken too – and he would never judge the things you did to survive your lethal wounds.

“Vergil! Can you hear me?! I’m here to find you!”

“How chivalrous, how heroic! What are you trying to accomplish?” The giggles pooled around your feet, threatening to drag you inside that pool of viscous darkness. “Trying to prove yourself? You’re never going to be perfect. You’re a black sheep, an outcast, remember? The likes of you aren’t heroes.”

“Oh, I’m no hero…” You growled back, fighting against the things trying to pull you back; fighting against the pain of the freezing cold and warmness of blood. “I’m a fucking fighter. You’re messing with the wrong kind of monster, fucking Hell Piranhas.”

“Piranhas…?” A faint whisper in the dark broke whatever control those things were trying to have over your body, starting at your feet. It was Vergil’s whisper – followed by a louder speaking tone. “Y/n! I can feel you, where are you?!”

“Trying to find you!” You screamed back, immediately dragging your feet towards Vergil. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel where he was – and there was nothing those demons could do against that.

The darkness seemed to shift for a couple of seconds. You couldn’t understand what was happening, but you saw a faint, ghostly pale glow in the dark – almost imperceptible, but your heart knew, you could finally see Vergil.

And, in return, he could see you. Moving his feet, Vergil dragged heavy shackles through the floor, screeching in a horrid, soul scratching sound as he willed his body to move towards you. You could hear him grunting with the effort, another set of chains being dragged as Vergil moved his arms – slowly, but surely, wearing all of his strength to get to you.

You felt the viscous ripples of the floor creeping up your legs, almost on your knees, doing their best to pull you away – back into the darkness, back to the taunting voices, to the doubt, the hurt, the self-loathing.

“Vergil! Let me hear your voice! You’re still there, right?!”

“Yes. I am always here.” His answer came with grunts of effort, barely above the noise of the chains screeching around him.

The darkness shifted again, and his form became even more visible, as yours did to him – followed by a scream that rumbled in his chest, Vergil managed to get even closer. That made something spark inside yourself, that thundering storm breaking in your soul cracking in a scream that broke the insidious tentacles holding you back and making you lunge forward.

Once again, the glow you diffused only to each other seemed to get stronger as the darkness wavered.

“Y/n…” He growled once more, the shackles screaming on the floor as he reached out to you.

“Vergil…!” You reached out in return, barely making out the form of his fingers in the dark.

As you were almost touching each other’s hands, the heavy, muffling darkness faltered once more. You could finally see one another, as you were in that godforsaken place.

Vergil was shirtless, his body covered in wounds – new and old – bleeding profusely. His silvery eyes were red, sunken in deep shadow, surrounded by a deep purple mist on his dry skin. You could see his bones under his pale skin covered in so many lacerations you wouldn’t even know where to start healing him. His knuckles were battered, showing the flesh underneath, as well as his wrists covered by heavy iron shackles – wounds from fighting against them for so long. His hands were still long and elegant, but bony and covered in bruises.

You had never seen Vergil so hurt, so broken, so… Vulnerable.

In return, his eyes took in shock the vision of you: as shirtless as him, as battered and wounded as he was. Even if not locked in the shackles he wore for so long in Hell, you walked barefoot leaving a trail of blood behind you. Those scars, those wounds, those bruises… He knew they were there, but he had never seen those. You looked weak and tired, bloodshot eyes under dry skin, as if you hadn’t slept in ages… And those things you fought so much to conceal, now crystal clear in front of him.

Those were the scars you carried inside yourselves. The wounds you had to fight against every day – that you had to try to heal, even if sometimes it seemed impossible. The things you would never show, but, somehow, you managed to sense it in each other… Now you could see it, clear as a bright night.

And, even if you wouldn’t admit to yourselves, those were the very same breaking thunders that would keep you moving – fiercely fighting, fiercely surviving.

As you took in each other’s internal selves, Vergil’s silvery eyes finally found yours.

A loud thundering noise shook the floor underneath your feet twice, as your hearts rumbled alongside the devastating sound. You lunged forward, holding Vergil’s hand as if your life depended on it. Never breaking your eye contact, Vergil held your hand with the strength you would expect of the legendary Dark Slayer. You made each other stronger, and there was nothing that could come between you now.

His shackles immediately screeched back, pulling Vergil violently away from you. At the same time, you were grabbed by the viscous darkness – your knees, your legs, your abdomen, your arms. It pulled you back with vicious strength, doing its best to drag you away from him – back into the darkness.

“Don’t let me go!” You screamed back, tightening your grip around his bony hand.

“I will never let go!” He growled, doing the same, trying to drag his body forward – failing to notice you willed yourself towards him as he pulled you into his arms. Those silvery eyes never moved away from yours.

“You are lost…! Lost…!”

The voices chanted and screeched around you, doing their best to drag you apart. For a moment, your hand slipped and you let out a desperate scream, hurting your lungs as you were almost pulled back into the void. Vergil’s cry resembled a roar as he willed his body to move and tightened his grip in a way he didn’t hold even Yamato.

He hadn’t held his brother’s hand once. This time he wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time, he would hold you even if that damned the both of you to the darkest pits of Hell.

“Can’t you see…? Can’t you see that…?”

“I am lost…!” You barked back to the voices, still staring into Vergil’s eyes, trying to catch your breath while your lungs stung as if you were inhaling a thousand knives.

As Vergil looked into your eyes, though, he knew exactly what you were going to say – and he could safely say it was the very same thing he struggled to find the words to.

“Without you.” His answer came in a dark tone, ragged from the effort he too made to be able to hold your hand.

The thunder rumbled twice again – the voices shrieked and you suddenly found yourselves being launched into each other’s arms as the forces that bind you broke into a million pieces.

Vergil’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands holding your head close to his chest, as you wrapped yours around his waist, keeping him as close as you could. His head rested on top of yours, and you kept your eyes closed – washing away the blood above his heart with the tears that streamed down your face.

“Don’t ever hide from me.” Vergil’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, somber but reassuring. You had never been so vulnerable in front of him – and even upon seeing you like that, his reaction was to take you in his arms, to welcome you. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“And I’m not afraid of your darkness.” You tightened your arms around his cold, bony body as you felt tears running through your hair. “I can see beyond your glimmer, and I’m not afraid of what’s in the dark.” Your voice shook as you took a deep breath and Vergil’s arms held you even closer – his body shaking with the tears falling from his eyes. “It’s you. And I’m never afraid of you.”

“Neither am I of you.”

His answer was but a whisper – a whisper enough to break the darkness into a memory to be kept away in the deepest pits of Hell.

I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you

*

*

*

*

“You killed the Piranhas from Hell with the power of love?”

Vergil wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Or die. Or both.

Probably both.

The whole crew was there as you and Vergil never came back from the job as quickly as expected – and when you did, it looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

The priest was more than happy with the result of your work – even though you never discovered why the Weavers decided to come out of hiding nor what they wanted. The congregation was just happy they were gone and the whole reason behind it would be a long-term thing for the Devil May Cry to work on – or to keep an eye on; maybe something bigger was approaching.

You and Vergil didn’t feel like going back to the shop, though. When you were hurt physically, things were very much ok to deal with, but when the wounds were emotional… You needed time for yourselves.

Unlike his brother, Vergil was a little more responsible with his money – and you, a lot more than the two. You managed to find somewhere to spend a few nights… Which involved the both of you talking out everything you felt and saw. It was harrowing at first, something neither of you were versed in and honestly were terrified of, but it eventually brought you even closer together.

So, to say you had defeated the Lie Weavers with the power of love was something that killed Vergil inside.

And you could almost see his internal self, glaring at you with a ‘really, after all of this you say this kind of foolishness’ look in his sad, silvery eyes, as Lady stared at both of you and made the question everyone was thinking.

“Yep. Power of love, it’s a curious thing.” You shrugged, making Vergil physically groan by your side while Dante slapped his table with a huge grin on his face.

“Make a one man weep, make another man sing! Hell yeah, Back To The Future, babe!” He winked back at you as you smiled in response.

“Of all the people you could end up dating, Vergil…” Trish sat on Dante’s desk, crossing her long legs while sporting a devilish smile on her rosy lips. It was interesting how her voice could never really sound like Eva’s. “It had to be someone who references the same songs as your brother.”

“Alas, fate plays many games…” Vergil rolled his eyes, but as they rested on you, there was a vulnerability you saw only once in that pitch black darkness. “But it is kind enough to give us what we need.”

No one ever really understood what he meant, but Dante was the only one who managed to see something inside his brother’s silvery eyes that could only reflect in yours – and that made him genuinely smile.

Indeed, you would never be the romance of a fairy tale book or a romantic comedy – but you could see what lied beyond each other’s scars; taking a glimpse at the worst of each other without fear and finding whatever light was left inside. You could understand – and that was much more than most lovers in the world would ever have.

[blackynsupremacy]

i’m about to write for him. i can see this being a don’t judge a book by its cover type of one shot with thugnificent x black!babysitter!reader.

it sounds so chaotic, but trust me on this, it could be cute.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Permanent Surrender

This fic will cover my A Locket-A weapon-An Unexpected Kiss square on my 2nd @jacklesversebingo card.

Summary: Ben and Y/N hate each other...but what lies just over the edge of hate?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. Of course - it's Soldier Boy! Misogynistic language, Ben being an asshole. Rough, unprotected PinV sex, vaginal fingering, anal sex, spit and cum as lube, Oral (m receiving) slight face fucking, dub con (let's call it forceful seduction), lots of dirty talk.

Pairings: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader and Soldier Boy x Sarah (sort of)

Word Count: 3,633

A/N: So this is my next square for my second jacklesversebingo card. The request for this one came from @deans-spinster-witch who sent an ask saying simply:

A locket, a weapon, an unexpected kiss with Soldier Boy & the reader?

Rewatching 3x08, I came upon this classic line and it got my dirty mind rolling:

So, this is what I came up with, hon! Hope you (and everyone else too) enjoy it! ❤️ If you do, don't forget to like, comment and/or reblog. It means the world.

The dividers used here are created by @silkholland

The skyline of New York City stretched out in front of Sarah for miles, lights twinkling like fallen stars in the inky black sky. The night had taken its toll on her and she found herself with a bit of a headache. She rubbed a hand over her forehead as images of the night came back to her.

…the terrorists storming into their company's New Year's Eve party…

…the screams of fear from those around her as the Soviet terrorists forced them, at gunpoint, into the small, crowded conference room…

…the feeling of soaring relief and happiness as something smashed through the windows on the eightieth floor of Takao Corporation Headquarters…

…the way her heart beat triple time when she realized it was him - Soldier Boy! He'd come for her, just as she'd known he would…

He'd saved them all and sent those Soviet bastards packing!

And now she stood free and safe, in the chill of a New York December night, with only a light sweater over her shoulders. She shivered and considered going back inside, but then suddenly he was there - walking towards her in his emerald green suit, not even a single tear in it from his gallant rescue.

“Hey, sweetness.” He said as he reached her and ran his hands up and down her arms. “You're gonna catch pneumonia out here. I didn't come all this way to save you just to lose you to a cold.”

He smiled at her warmly and she felt her insides tremble. 

“Oh, speaking of lost things…” He reached into a pocket in his sleeve and pulled out a delicate gold chain with a locket dangling from it.

Sarah gasped. “My grandmother's locket!” She exclaimed with wide eyes. “When those bastards ripped it from around my neck, I never thought I'd see it again.”

Soldier Boy shook his head. “I knew I had to get this back to you. I know how much it means to you, being the last thing your grandmother ever gave you. I couldn't let them take it.”

Sarah’s eyes welled up with tears as Soldier Boy held up the locket and nodded towards her. 

“May I?” He asked.

She nodded and he stepped close to her, clasping the fine gold chain around her neck.

When he had it in place, he stepped back from her slightly, but remained close. He let his finger trail down the cold metal links resting on her warm skin and when he spoke his voice was deep and warm.

“So…” He seemed a little nervous and Sarah blushed. “I know it's well after midnight, but…do you think I could steal a New Year's Eve kiss?”

She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I thought you'd never ask.”

He smiled into their kiss…

…and the music swelled, the camera slowly panning away into a long crane shot until the screen faded to black and the credits finally began to roll. 

The Heart of Rock and Roll by Huey Lewis and the News blasted from the speakers as the theater erupted in applause, everyone cheering the latest exploits of Soldier Boy. Once again he'd shot down all the bad guys (except for a few who's throats he slit), saved all the hostages and, of course, got the girl.

Ben and Y/N came out onto the small stage at the front of the theater and gave everyone a wave. Ben spoke into the microphone someone had placed in front of him.

“Thank you so much for coming to the premiere of ‘Falling Thunder’. We hope you enjoyed it; we sure enjoyed making it.”

Ben smiled down at Y/N and squeezed the hand he held very hard until a smile popped up on her face. She leaned into the microphone.

“Yes, what an adventure this has been. And thanks so much to the best partner I could ask for.” She gushed, latching onto Ben's bicep and then coyly burying her face in the same arm as the audience oohed and aahed and whistled at them.

Ben laughed and chucked her chin, throwing her a wink and making all the women in the audience melt into puddles. The two of them flashed a few more smiles and waved again as they walked offstage. The second they were past the curtain, they dropped their smiles and each other's hands. 

Y/N breathed deeply and turned to face the man she loathed more than she ever thought possible. 

“Well, I can't say this was fun, but it's done and we never have to see each other again, so there's that.”

Ben turned his head to sneer at her. “Well, I'm still seeing you now.” 

Y/N clenched her jaw as she turned and stomped away from the absolute asshole the rest of the world knew as Soldier Boy. 

From their first moment on set to their very last take, they'd hated each other. Everything Ben did pissed her off, every snide comment, every lude suggestion made her want to smack him till his ears rang.

She knew he felt the same. He'd told her numerous times, when she’d refused to sleep with him, that she was just a frigid bitch. 

“Women like you need to be fucked long and hard so you remember your place.” He'd growled at her after the last time he'd cornered her and tried to fuck her in her trailer. He'd stormed out unsatisfied, slamming her trailer door off its hinges. 

That's how it had been the entire six weeks of shooting. 

Y/N couldn't deny that the asshole was incredibly hot and she had definitely been tempted by him quite a few times. His face was so goddamn perfect and his lips were so wide and full she just wanted to suck on them like candy. 

And his body. Fuck!

Having been pressed up against him many times throughout filming she knew just how rock solid he was, how his muscles felt rippling beneath her hands, and it definitely left her wanting so much more. But she'd never give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right when he whispered dirty accusations in her ear.

“I know you're soaked for me, baby.” He told her one day on set. He leaned in towards her and inhaled deeply. “I can fucking smell it.”

He'd told her over and over that she was denying herself the best sex of her life. She'd scoffed at him and rolled her eyes which never failed to piss him off. But secretly, she thought he might actually be telling the truth.

But now she'd never know.

She sighed deeply as she continued to wait at the coat check for the girl to find her coat in the back and bring it out so she could leave the theater behind, along with the group of Hollywood phonies involved with the movie. 

Mostly though, she admitted, she wanted away from temptation.

She was desperate to leave because now that it was becoming real in her mind that her time with Ben was well and truly over, she was beginning to feel a kind of panic setting in - as though overwhelming disappointment was washing over her. 

She was coming to realize that actually, a part of her had hoped that he’d win their little war. A deep-down-dark part of her had wanted him to fuck her and emerge victorious. She hated admitting it, even to herself, but she'd never been so turned on by a man in her life. Her body flushed and her core muscles clenched just thinking of him.

She angrily rang the little bell on the desk a few times. She needed to get her coat and get the fuck out of here.

Suddenly the little blonde who worked behind the counter popped out from between two trench coats. Her face was all red and she seemed a bit loopy. She was grinning and giggling. “I can't…I can't find your coat. You should go back and look for yourself.”

She pressed a button under the desk and the door swung open. The girl ran out, leaving Y/N to stare after her in confusion. 

“What the fuck?” Y/N mumbled. She scowled and shook her head, slipping through the door before it clicked shut and relocked behind her. She pushed her way through the racks and racks of coats, soon becoming lost in a sea of wool and tweed.

Suddenly she felt a hand grab her wrist and pull her behind the last row of coats. There was a wide spot there between the coats and the back wall. And in that spot Ben slammed her back against the wall, thrusting a knee between her legs and holding both wrists stretched above her head.

He easily held her wrists in one hand, so his other one was free to wrap around her throat as his face hovered above hers. 

“Together again, baby.”

Out of habit Y/N pulled away from him, trying to free her wrists, but it was like trying to escape steel manacles.

“Why are you fighting what we both know you want?” He asked smugly. He dropped his hand from her throat and ran it down her body, reaching her stocking-covered thigh and squeezing hard. 

“What will I find if I tear these fucking pantyhose off? If I try to make you come on my fingers, are you gonna be dripping for me?”

Y/N felt her panties flood even more at his words, giving an answer to his very rhetorical questions. But she tried to pull her leg out of his grip and struggled against his hold. 

“Fuck off, you piece of shit!” She hissed at him. “I thought you were out of my goddamn life!”

Ben trailed his fingers further up her thigh and shook his head. “N’ah, gave that little blonde bimbo a hundred dollar bill and quick finger fuck to get her out of here. So I could have you all to myself at last.”

It occurred to Y/N that she should probably be a lot more afraid than annoyed. There was absolutely nothing stopping this Titan from holding her down and doing anything he wanted to her. 

But just like all the times before, she was frustrated, not scared. She knew he didn't want to take her. He wanted to get her. He wanted her to admit how badly she lusted after him. He wanted her to give in. 

He wanted to win.

To that end, he pressed his lips behind her ear and made her shiver. His fingers ran just under the hem of her little black dress. 

“I know how much you want me.” His voice was low and smooth in her ear. “I know you've probably spent hours and hours fantasizing about me throwing you down and fucking you stupid. Have you imagined that? Hmm?” He asked as he pulled down the thick strap on her dress and trailed his sinful lips across her shoulder.

“How do I fuck you in your fantasies, Y/N? Do I make you come on my tongue first? Or do I just bend you over and ram my fat cock into that dripping mess of a cunt?”

Y/N was still shaking her head, but she was panting now too. She wanted to keep telling him no, but her whole body thrummed a resounding yes. 

But it wasn't enough for him, he wanted her total surrender.

“Tell me, Y/N. How do you wanna be fucked? Slow and teasing or hard and pounding? Do you want me to fuck this gorgeous mouth of yours.” He paused to lick her lips open and a moan escaped her.

He smiled wickedly, but didn't relent. “In your dreams are you on your knees, baby? Are you taking my cock down your throat like such a good girl? Are you gagging on it?”

He raised his knee slightly, flexing the muscle and making it push against her core. She sucked in a ragged breath and then cried out harshly as he pulled back and then slammed it against her pussy, the ridge of muscle in his thigh pressing perfectly and making her roll her head back and forth on the wall, trying to deny how desperately she wanted him.

“Do you like that, my little slut? Do you like fucking yourself on my thigh? Yeah, you do, don't you? I know just how badly you want me to fuck you, how badly you wanna be reamed by a big fat cock. Need somebody to fuck you down good, don't you? Need to be fucked so hard you can't walk for a week.”

Y/N wasn't even trying to stop the sounds of pleasure sliding out of throat, she couldn't possibly manage it. But she still pulled uselessly against his grip, still wouldn't give in.

Ben's voice was deliciously dark and deep as he continued. “All you have to do is say the word, Y/N. Well, two words actually. Just say, ‘I surrender.’ and I'll fuck you so good, keep you coming and coming.”

Y/N bucked her hips forward, rubbing against his thigh once again. She opened her mouth to tell him to fuck off, but only pathetic, whimpering sounds came out now so she slammed it shut.

Ben sensed his victory in the air and he smiled darkly. “Just fucking say it, baby. We both know you want it, you're not fooling anyone anymore. So surrender and I'll take you where you stand, fuck you against this wall till your knees buckle. Fill every fucking hole and have you absolutely begging for more.”

It was the breaking point for Y/N. “Oh goddamn it. Yes. Okay. Do it.” She gasped, but it wasn't enough for Ben.

He pulled her away from the wall and spun her to face it. He let go of her wrists so he could collect them again behind her back. He tore the front of her dress down to her waist. She wore no bra and the cold cement wall felt rough against her bare tits when he pressed her against it.

He wrenched her tight dress up to bunch around her waist, shredded her pantyhose with his fingers before yanking her panties down and then freeing his cock from its confines.

He groaned as he slid it up and down through the wetness he’d known he’d find. He pressed the very tip to her entrance and stopped. He applied his weight and strength against her, so she couldn't move a muscle, couldn't push back on him, couldn't create any kind of friction for herself.

“This is it, little tease. You've been denying me for weeks and weeks now. Trying to make me believe you didn't want me. Well now my cock is just waiting to fuck you apart, ready to make you scream. So tell me bitch, do you surrender?”

Y/N felt her last thread of resistance fall away and she simply didn't care about pride anymore.

“Yes, goddammit, yes. I fucking yield, I surrender, whatever you wanna hear. Just fuck me, you asshole!”

With that auspicious capitulation, Ben didn't wait another second. He rammed himself deep, and then deeper into Y/N's cunt. He didn't wait for her first cry of pleasure to end before he pulled out and slammed back again, this time lifting her off the floor with the force of his thrust.

He smashed her up against the wall, holding her wrists tightly behind her and crushing her body against the cement as he fucked up into her over and over. 

The tip of his huge cock dragged across her sweet spot with every punishing thrust. He was relentless and perfect and Y/N could only pant and beg him not to stop. Soon she was falling over the edge harder than she'd ever fallen. He buried his fingers in her slick and rubbed her clit hard as he kept ramming himself into her so deep that Y/N knew no one would ever fill her the same way again. 

As he'd promised, he kept her coming and coming.

After one particularly powerful climax, Y/N felt as though her brain had liquefied, and was only vaguely aware of what was happening as Ben pulled out of her and shifted her away from the wall. He bent her double and dropped her wrists.

He spread her ass cheeks wide and spit on her before dragging slick up from her cunt on his fingers and coating the tight ring of muscle there. He pushed the tip of his middle finger in and groaned.

“Fuck this ass is tight. Have you ever been ass fucked, my little whore? My cock the first to breach it?”

Y/N gave a disjointed nod, gasping as he pushed his finger in further and spit on her again. “Yes. I've never.” The garbled words were all she could manage.

Ben hummed. “Fuckin’ love that I get to pop this cherry.”

He spread more slick and spit over her asshole as he continued to push in his thick middle finger, stretching her slowly.

“Okay, baby, this is gonna sting.” He warned as he positioned his cock at her back entrance. “I'm gonna go slow, but I'm gonna give you every inch. And I want you to take it all. Got it?”

Y/N bit her lip as her slick continued to leak down her thighs. “Yes, I wanna feel so full of you.” She panted, so far past the point of denial.

Ben grunted. “Fuck yes.” He pushed forward slightly and it definitely stung. Then he pushed further and it hurt. He stopped as he met resistance. “You need to relax baby. Don't fight me.” he guided her, stroking down her back. He put his hands back on her cheeks, spreading her ass wide again. 

“Play with your tits, flick your clit, let yourself enjoy the stretch and burn.” He advised. She did what he suggested and soon she was lost in pleasure again, moaning harshly. He pushed further into her ass, restraining himself from slamming into her as hard and deep as he wanted to. He'd rip her open if he did. So he continued to go slow and listened for her sounds of pleasure as he proceeded.

Finally he was pushed into her completely, buried so deep she felt like she might burst. 

“Good girl.” He praised, reaching around and swirling his finger around her clit while she squeezed her own tits hard. 

“I'm gonna move now. I'll start as slow as I can, but I'm gonna wanna speed up soon. Think you can handle me?”

Y/N nodded. “Yes. I can take it.” 

Ben slid three thick fingers into her cunt and she cried out. He grunted against her spine, and then bit her there, leaving marks. 

“This is how I've wanted you for so long, completely stretched, stuffed so full of me you can barely breathe.”

Y/N let out a keening moan and Ben pulled out of her ass slowly. Inside her pussy his fingers found her sweet spot and pressed there gently, tormenting her. He slid slowly in and out of her tight hole for a while stretching her and easing the way. 

Finally, when he couldn't hold back anymore, he pressed his fingers in circles against her g-spot making her explode and clench around his fingers.

As she rode her climax, Ben took the chance to slam in and out of her hard and fast, letting the scorching pleasure of her orgasm dull the pain of his huge cock slamming deep and rough into her ass.

Finally he pulled out completely and pushed Y/N down to the floor, leaving her on her knees. She looked up at him, fuck drunk and barely conscious as he pumped his cock.

“Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue.” Ben ordered her through gritted teeth. She obeyed immediately and he tapped his heavy cock against her tongue. “Suck it.” He growled.

Y/N closed her lips around him, sucking hard as she gagged on his thrusting cock. 

Finally Ben's hips stuttered and he grabbed the back of her head so he could bury his cock deep down her throat. 

He came with a roar and Y/N realized if there were any other people coming to get their coat, they could likely hear everything. But gone along with her pride, was her ability to feel embarrassment. All she wanted was for Ben to keep fucking her. Forever.

He pulled out of her mouth, letting cum and spit dribble onto her tits and her tattered dress. He took pride in the way she was completely broken in now. He knew after this he could fuck her whenever he wanted to; she'd never say no again.

Y/N tried to come back to reality, but her brain was buzzing and her body was throbbing, sore and stiff, but already aching for him again.

Ben tucked away his dick and zipped himself up, before he grabbed a coat. It wasn't hers, but she didn't protest as he wrapped her up in it, covering the torn dress and cum stains. 

“Come on, my little cock tease. Let's get you back to my hotel. There are still so many ways I wanna fuck you.” He knew what the answer would be, but his ego asked the question anyway. “You gonna fight me on it? Or are you finally ready to admit this is what you've wanted all along?”

A long distant voice echoed in her head telling her she should be fighting this, but it was faint and easily ignored. She nodded and stopped to pull him down into a kiss. 

“Fuck yes, asshole. I permanently surrender.” 

Jensen RPF and Any/All Other Jensen Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@akshi8278

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

[mydearviserra]

Aftercare

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Otto Hightower x Fem! Reader ]

Warning: NSFW(mention of, choking, cream pie, spanking ), One shot, Otto POV. Short story. Age gap

“Seven hells I’m so cold” she mumbled as her teeth chattered, i scooted closer towards her as she sucked in all my warmth, once her cheek rested on my chest I pulled her even closer by her hip. My thumb rubbed lazy circles back and forth. I shook my head a bit before planting a kiss on-top of her head.

Seven hells she’ll be the death of me

One moment I was simply in my study looking through my work then she comes barging him depending attention. I could tell she has a few cups of wine ss her cheeks held a rosey Huey to it. Once she got on my lap everything was a blur, on the desk then the wall, then she has the bright idea on the balcony. Four times this women made me come, to think no spot in my study was left unfucked. When our last around was on the balcony just seeing her chest bounce with each thrust, her sucking on my fingers to cover her moans sent me on autopilot as I released my biggest load into her. When I release from her, seven hells I almost went for another around just seeing her trembling body barely gripping on the railing the trail of my seed dripping down her thighs I had to take a mental image of how beautiful she looked.

“Dear it was your suggestion to as I quote ‘rail me over the balcony husband” I mocked her words as my chuckle rumbled against her cheek, I felt her huff as she buried her face against my chest muffling out her response

“And you weren’t complaining a minute ago!” She scoffed, i felt her eyes roll but the way her body melted into mines i could tell her ‘matter of fact’ attitude was slipping. Oh how I love her.

“Oh and what else did my darling wife say hm? Oh yes ‘husband I want to ride your face- oh please Otto” I whispered against her ear nibbling slowly as my hands began to roam around her bottom. She shuttered with a low gasp, she was still sore from spanking her. Oops

“O-ow! Be gentle I’m still sore you know! A-and you suggested it last time” she fumbled her words, as she paused she looked up at me with cheeks a crimson red her eyes narrowing trying to hard to come up with a better response “You loved it!- so stop complaining” I mumbled in embarrassment as the sex high came rushing down

“I did, I have no regrets hearing those pretty little moans of yours dear” his voice was salutary and low as he whispered against my ear, his lips trailing down my ear to my neck leaving gentle kisses “oh honey chock me harder- hey!” I let out a laughs as she stop me from mocking her words when she pinch my side

“Stop it! I know what I said!” She rolled her eyes as she tried to pull away from me, i gripped her harder as our lips crashed against each other, after a few moments I pulled away resting my forehead against hers

“I know I know- I love teasing you dear I can’t help it” i whispered lowly as I stared into her eyes, a small smile crept my cheeks “I love you, and for a reward for being such a good girl. Let me take care of you my good girl” I smirked as her eyes light up

I carried her into the bathroom, resting her on the tub as I filled it with warm water. I smiled watching her sigh with relief once the hot water hits her body. I took care of each part of her carefully, washing and scrubbing away her body removing any tension and sweat. Then I helped scrub her hair, being gentle as I can to help take out small knots. Once I made it to he legs I rub away her tense muscles. Then she opened her eyes she had her smirk I knew to well, the same face she made when she came into my study when she lowered her leg I gasp as she pulled me down In the tub with her

We didn’t sleep at all that night

By morning I wasn’t the one being able to walk

Seven hells this is what I get having a young wife

My poor bones