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rainstormsdarling · 4 months ago

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A Court Across Seas and Stars

Chapter 2

In the recent snow, the yellow gleam of lamps washed over the cobbled streets, reflecting off the signs of nearby shops and cafes. Warm amber and rose, neon blues and greens thrust beams into the full dark that was falling. The glowing metropolis of Edinburgh in late December was stunning, the grand Old Town buildings with their ornate facades contrasted against the magnetic energy of the diverse pubs and restaurants. People spilled out onto the streets, talking and laughing. Night was falling quickly but the city was just coming alive with light.

Feyre turned left at the end of the lane, towards the community garden and away from the congested traffic and colourful lights. She cut through the park on the way to and from her flat each day, and never got tired of walking through the shady green canopy, wooded and dim and wet. As a gust of wind stirred the branches overhead, she remembered the strong sense of magic she had felt here when she was younger, not dissimilar to what she had felt this afternoon in the library. It felt like a world within a world, a place she had imagined as a child where one of the winding paths might take her to another land. But it hadn’t happened then, and whatever it was that happened today - it couldn't happen now.

A breathtaking echo of something wistful rolled through her as she thought of the stranger in the library. There was something about his presence, even down to the cadence of his speech, that was thrilling and ancient and wild. The tunnel of trees finally opened, and Feyre lifted her face to the sky, watching the moon drip eerie light onto the heavy grey clouds below as they passed beneath - the calm before the storm.

The tranquillity in the air evaporated with the fast approaching sound of footsteps. She glanced over her shoulder and stopped dead in her tracks.

‘Feyre. Could you wait for a moment? ’ That voice. Rhysand’s voice, low and level. It felt familiar to her now, at least in tone, although it ought not to.

She turned around fully, her eyebrow hiked. ‘Rhysand. What do you want?’

But his gaze was still focused on the street ahead, the buses and cars rolling by, with their beeping horns, and the familiar fast beats of city streets as they passed. He looked dazed.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

His eyes travelled back to hers. ‘Feyre, you must believe me, I am..’ He took a breath, and his voice lowered as he stepped closer. ‘Not from this time, from this place. And I need to get back to my world, immediately.’

She stared up at him warily. Something about his expression halted her, catching her snarky reply on her tongue. Looking past his strong mouth and sharp cheekbones, his tan skin looked too pale and his eyes too bewildered. A muscle feathered in his jaw, ‘Please, Feyre. You saw the book did you not? Somehow I have traveled to this world…’ he gestured to the street beyond as he said desperately, ‘and I need to know where I am, and if I can get back.’ His broad chest expanded as he took a breath. A bitter gust of wind blew, sending his shirt billowing. She noticed then just how inadequate his attire was for midwinter in Scotland. Her eyes traveled back up to him in speculation. He gazed back imploringly, waiting.

‘You truly don’t know anyone here?’ She asked. He nodded stiffly. The idea that this man was really from another world, and could somehow travel through them was more than Feyre could comprehend. But… she did see that ancient book glow, felt the tang and mineral grittiness of magic as it filled the air and stung her nose.

Big, fat drops of rain started to fall, and she pulled up the hood on her coat. They dripped down his forehead and spotted his shirt. She watched the spots grow, turning transparent as they stuck to his skin. As much as she wanted to believe she imagined what had happened, if he was telling the truth, leaving him here alone would be thoughtless. When she met his gaze, those violacious eyes beseeching, she wished she had some of her wary sensibility back. There was so much about him that made little sense to her, and she felt frozen in place as he unravelled her with his eyes.

Apprehensive, she took a step backwards, and he raised one hand to calm her.

‘Do not fear me. I will not harm you.’ He said evenly.

But Feyre was afraid. Not of him, no, she was afraid of what had happened in the library that afternoon because it made no sense in the analytical, rational part of her mind. She didn’t think she was afraid of him for some unfathomable reason, because there was something low in her stomach, something purely instinctual that recognised him on some level. Even if she didn’t understand what that was yet.

As they stared at each other, he exhaled then backed away another step.

‘I’m sorry. I never should have followed you here.’ He looked away, dragging a hand roughly through his hair. ‘I’m sorry’ he said again quietly, his expression slipping into something unreadable before bowing his head and turning away.

Her heart started pounding, and she knew that she was being more than a little reckless when she shouted, ‘Wait!’

He stopped and turned, the corners of his lips drawn downwards.

‘Why don’t you come with me,’ she said quietly.

His eyes widened fractionally, and he stepped back towards her, wiping the rain off his face.

She remembered the umbrella in her bag and hastily took it out, opening it with a woosh. Gesturing for him to come closer. ‘Look, Rhysand… we can’t go back to the library tonight. It’s storming and I’m cold and all I want to do is go home and have a long bath.’ She looked up at him and knew she sounded whiny. ‘I can… try to answer your questions, but why don’t we get somewhere warm and have some food first?’

His eyebrows drew together and he nodded. ‘Yes. That would be… most appreciated. Thank you, Feyre.’

‘Okay then.’ She smiled weakly. ‘Let's go,’ and inclined her head towards the continuing path, the wet pavement gleaming under the soft orange lamplights. She lifted the umbrella to allow Rhysand to be concealed underneath, and he moved closer, his body crouching low, before she allowed him to take the handle and hold it over them both.

She didn’t know if it was the moisture in the air, but his scent of sun-ripened citrus, salty wood and cedar wrapped around her as he pulled her closer to him, the umbrella protecting them against the downpour. As they splashed through puddles in the heavy rain she envisioned swimming in a cliff-lined cove, the soft drift of smoke wafting… where sensuality rose after night had fallen. The painting was almost fully formed in her minds eye.

She dragged herself back to the present as she saw the familiar lights of her apartment building come into view, and they walked towards the narrow stairway squashed between the local Thai takeaway, Aom’s, and the newsagents. Feyre pushed open the security door and walked inside the building, holding the door for Rhysand to enter. He looked around the stairwell, noting the flickering yellow lamp and paused.

‘This way’ she said, walking up the stairs ahead of him, ‘I’m on the 2nd floor.’

They were halfway through climbing the stairs when Rhysand broke the silence, ‘Feyre, won’t your - family or uh husband… mind you bringing me home with you?’ he asked carefully, his voice slipping over her like warm honey.

‘Oh no, I live alone.’ she replied, continuing up the stairs.

‘You do?’

‘Yes,’ she chuckled, ‘Is that so hard to believe?’ she asked, looking back at him over her shoulder.

‘Well, where I am from, human women do not usually live on their own.’

They rounded the stairs and she got her keys out. ‘Well, I think we can safely establish that our worlds are fairly different, don't you think?’ she offered.

He nodded, ‘Yes’ the corners of his full mouth lifting, but his eyes tightened. Assessing.

She opened the door, holding it out for him. Glanced down at the empty stairwell at the neighboring apartment, and then back to him again. ‘Why don’t we talk inside? Somehow I don’t think my neighbors would be accustomed to this topic of conversation.’

He appraised her for a moment longer, decidedly agreeing, then walked inside. His petrichor-rich scent washed over her as he passed. Even his smell was intoxicating, intensely masculine, and sinisterly attractive. She watched him as he cast a brief but thorough glance around the living area of her flat. Now that he was inside, the space felt too small, cramped almost. He didn't just occupy space in a room, he owned it, saturated it. Where there was her green kitchen, benchtops stacked with papers and books, vanilla caramel candles, and bowls of fruit, now there was only him. Filling it with his strong presence, so that it was all she could see, all she could focus on.

Suddenly nervous, she quickly turned away, shutting and locking the door. Taking the moment to steady her mind before turning around. Bracing herself, she stepped purposefully towards the kitchen island and dropped her bag onto one of the barstools.

‘Well, um this is it. My home I mean.’ She watched him warily, noting how his rain-soaked shirt clung to him. Before he could answer she asked, ‘Would you like a shower or something? I can put your clothes in the wash if you want?’

He blinked, then nodded. ‘Yes. Thank you.’

‘Alright. Come with me’ she smiled, leading him to the hallway. She opened the linen cupboard and took a towel out before handing it to him. She gestured to the door opposite, ‘That's my bedroom', she walked further down the hallway. ‘And this is the laundry and bathroom’, pointing to the doors on her right.

‘Go ahead’ she nodded towards the bathroom door, ‘I’ll try to find something you can change into’ and walked towards her open bedroom.

She doubted anything would fit him, considering his stature. But there could be an old bathrobe somewhere that might do the job for the time being. It was either that or… nothing. Resisting the urge to indulge herself further in that particular thought, she rifled through the back of her built-in closet, pulling out a fluffy pastel blue bathrobe that was at least two sizes too big. She grabbed it, and walked back to the bathroom where he was looking at her hairdryer with a puzzled expression. He held it up to her, dangling the cord in front of her face.

‘What is this instrument? I’ve never seen anything like it’

She found herself grinning, ‘That is a hair dryer. For drying your hair.’

His eyebrows pinched together as he studied it once more.

‘Here take this’ she shoved the bathrobe into his hands, ‘Let me show you.’

She plugged the hairdryer into the wall socket and turned it on, the rattling sound of hot spinning air coming on at once. He jumped back, startled, withdrawing a dagger and almost tripping into the bathtub.

‘Sorry, sorry’ she hastily turned it off, stumbling back. He looked at her in alarm, before seeming to remember the dagger in his hand and carefully sheathed it again.

‘No, no. I’m sorry’ he repeated after her. There was a protracted silence and then she burst out into laughter, semi-hysterical bursts that made her eyes brim with water. This whole situation was too bizarre.

Catching her breath, she looked up to him with tears in her eyes. ‘I think I might put this away now…’ she trailed off, ‘Unless you’d like to use it?’ she said with a chuckle. His eyes were alight with concern, and maybe a quiet hum of amusement too. But he shook his head firmly.

‘Thank you, but perhaps not today’ he said, grimacing.

‘Okay.’ She put the blasted thing in the cupboard under the sink. ‘There’s some soap and shampoo and stuff in the shower if you need it.’ She looked back to him, where his dagger was safely strapped away once more at his hip, and debated telling him to put it elsewhere while he was in her house but she doubted it would make a difference. At least he hadn’t unsheathed that sword again from where she could see its hilt peeking over his broad shoulder.

‘I'll go start on dinner now’. She paused. ‘Is pasta alright? You’re not allergic to anything are you?’

‘No I'm not allergic to anything.' His lips quirked in an echo of a smile, before pausing. 'I’m sure anything you make me will be fine.’ He said softly, before facing his back to her.

‘Okay’ She turned to go, closing the bathroom door behind her. But not before she caught him whispering, ‘Thank you Feyre.’

Notes: Thank you everyone for reading so far I appreciate each and everyone of you! As I mentioned this is my first fanfic (and first work ever to be perfectly honest) so please bear with me (I'm sure each chapter is laden with grammatical and spelling mistakes... eeek!). In terms of the story... well Rhys has somehow managed to transport himself to modern day Scotland, rest assured both he and Feyre will make it back to Prythian and be reunited with the IC... Please let me know what you want to see :)

See here for more

#rhysand #ao3 fanfic #acotar #feysand #feyre x rhysand #high lord rhysand #feyre archeron #sjm #ao3 #a court across seas and stars #rainstormsdarling #@isnotwhatyourethinking

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hoodedfigure-no99 · 11 months ago

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So I’m in Vegas and I’ve just had the most whiplashed day I’ve ever had. I bought a ticket to see Zak Bagans’ Haunted Museum, which was actually pretty cool, glad I went. Some of it’s pretty hokey but whatever it’s a Las Vegas entertainment thing. Loved the gift shop ngl. Anyway, I got to go into the basement and let me tell you I saw a shadow in the mirror down there and the spirit box went nuts. Other areas were tamer, I love Peggy, though she was kinda quiet. I felt super somber in the room involving Kevorkian. I grew up watching all sorts of news reports involving him, and honestly i don’t understand how his van could be haunted or anything if at all. Yes, many died in that van. Many died because they wanted to do so. He let them dictate when their final moment was. He didn’t connive them into suicide. They longed for rest that would eventually take them after days months years of excruciating/debilitating pain. Anyway off of that tangent. The worst of it was the room with Ed Gein’s cauldron and as soon as I entered it I felt BAD. The vibes were off in the most unsettling way. Another “I am uncomfortable” moment not involving claustrophobia and/or clowns was the Dybbuk box. To start off, the room before it, I was starting to lose my balance, but when I entered the room, I…lost track of myself in that room. I found it super hard to focus and I felt off. I got the shivers as soon as I entered, and continued to feel cold and shivers until way past when I got back to my hotel.

Would I go again? Absolutely. I want to do the flashlight tour because I want to talk to Peggy, or really get down to brass tacks with the Dybbuk box.

Also: did I look Peggy in the eyes? Yes. Did I have severe random stomach pain for a half hour later that evening? Sure did.

Now let me bring y’all around to the whiplash. I wasn’t feeling too hungry, and seeing this as a time to try Gordon Ramsay food, I decided to walk to the fish and chips place next door. Got my food, super quick, very tasty when i eventually ate it.

The whiplash occurred as I walked by 2 guys next to a lit up Chippendales sign. i was tired, i was a little peckish, so I walked, until I heard one of them say “stop right now” in *that* voice. The sub part of my brain like TOOK OVER, help. I stopped dead in my tracks and looked over and he absolutely lost it. IMAGINE USING DOM VOICE ON A RANDOM STRANGER AND HAVING IT WORK. That boy got his claws right into me. Anyway I wasn’t thinking (I really wanted to try the fish and chips), and he’s like “here have some beads, also come over here and take some pics with us” basically and again i was like ok but the math wasn’t mathing in my head until he took his jacket off and I was met by a broad toned *naked* chest. I stared at him like I’d just encountered an alien (Christ I love being acespec, just makes these encounters actually hilarious), and then his FRIEND joins in and I don’t think I’ve ever been this red before in MY LIFE, Anyway I got some really funny pics and I’m going to show you all.

Also I touched a man’s ass (as requested), and when the camera went off he flexed his cheeks and IVE NEVER BEEN MORE CONFUSED IN MY LIFE ARE ASSES SUPPOSED TO BE THIS MUSCULAR HELP 😂😂😂 all i could say at the end of it was “you guys are so warm” 😂😂😂

#zak bagans #Zak Bagans haunted museum #tw suicide #tw haunting #tw serial killers #Chippendales #las Vegas #what a day #tw suggestive #suggestive #naughty frickin gentlemen

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sparkletastic-cookiedough · 2 years ago

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Jacob Marley Hired the Wrong Ghost

A Beetlejuice Christmas Carol Part 3/5

Warnings: Discussions on death, capitalism, the death of children, misunderstandings, threats of violence, some stuff ripped directly from the work of Charles Dickens but it's public domain and he's dead so nothing can stop me, some self loathing,

Scrooge was left alone in his room for a while- long enough that he must have drifted off to sleep, because at one point his eyes were closed, and when they opened, he saw the demon again. The demon was perched on a chair, eyes glowing in the dim light of his bedroom. He didn’t speak, and only continued to stare at Scrooge with a blank expression on his face.

“You’ve returned” Scrooge said.

The demon didn’t react to that. Rather, after a short moment of silence, it spoke.

“You don’t like me very much”

It wasn’t a question, rather a statement, and not a statement that Scrooge could deny. He was not incredibly fond of the foul ghost, nor of his advances. Scrooge had only met him for the one night, and so far that night had been terrible. Instead of arguing with the demon, he responded with a question of his own.

“Why are you here?”

“I have a contract to fulfill.” The ghost said, stretching himself out as he stood from the chair. “Gotta show you the Christmas of the Present. I’d rather not talk to the ghost himself though, that guy’s a prick” the ghost said.

“I’m sure he couldn’t be worse than you”

“Buddy, those ghosts will send you on a trip of your own guilt and embarrassment. Jesus Christ himself wouldn’t come out without feeling like garbage. They’ve bothered me a few times, and each time it just reaffirms my belief that humans are terrible”.

“What do you mean? We can’t be all bad.” Scrooge asked

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell me all about what you did today, huh? Why don’t you tell me all of the kindness that you’ve done.”

Scrooge was silent at that.

“Exactly. So, are you ready to get this guilt train on the road?” off to the side of his bedroom, Scrooge could see small train tracks that hadn’t been there before. He heard a train approaching.

“I don’t suppose either of us have a choice.”

“Nope.” With that, the the pair got on the smallest passenger train imaginable- it looked like one from a fairground meant for small children. The train was shorter than he was, and the pair had to crouch down awkwardly on seats that seemed like they were meant for people half their size. Scrooge could swear that the ghost boarded behind him, yet looking ahead the ghost was driving the train. He wore a pair of striped overalls, and a conductor’s hat.

“All aboard the guilt-train! WHOO WHOO” said the ghost. “Be sure to keep your arms and legs inside the ride- I’m talking to you back there” the ghost said. Turning to see who the ghost was talking about, Scrooge saw the ghost behind him, dozens of disembodied limbs in his grasp spilling about the seats. Scrooge let out a laugh- and the ghost in front of him looked offended.

“Instead of laughing at me, maybe you could give me a hand here?”

“I’d say you’ve already got enough!” Scrooge replied.

The conductor ghost laughed at Scrooge’s joke. A few seconds later, ghost had gathered up all of its disembodied limbs. The train began to start moving, and ran outside of Scrooge’s house.

. Despite the fact that Scrooge could probably outrun the train if he wanted to, and the ghost could certainly transport them faster, there was a certain charm to invisibly riding a tiny train with a ghost. They passed by the festive shops- most of them decorated, but closed for the holiday. The train turned down an alleyway, and came to a stop outside of a garbage can.

“Hey Paul” the ghost yelled out.

From inside the trash can, a scuffling could be heard. Out popped a large rat, one of the many that could be found along the streets of the city. The ghost seemed to be familiar with this specific rat for some reason.

“I’ve got a job to do today. You wanna come along?” The rat hissed angrily and bit the ghost on the thumb. “Oh, you’re too busy with the family to spend time with your old pal? Well… that’s fine. I don’t need you anyway.”

The ghost blew the whistle of the train,

“So much for that Christmas kindness, right Scrooge? Hey, we might be alone on Christmas, but at least we’re alone together. Who needs to be invited to parties when you’ve got the two best friends a guy could have: Ben and Jerry” the ghost pulled a tub of icecream from his pocket and began eating it.

“Where are we going?” asked Scrooge.

“I have no idea. You know, this train is a lot like life-”

The approached a wall, but instead of going through it, the train crashed into it and caught fire.

“-it tends to crash and burn at the most unexpected times.” the ghost finished, rising from the burning train completely unharmed.

“Did you just crash the train in order to tell a joke?” asked Scrooge, rising from the ground where he had fallen during the impact. His body was a bit bruised, but the damage faded quickly in the ghost-like state that Scrooge was in.

“Well, I was gonna say ‘it goes wherever it wants’ but you gotta be able to improv sometimes.”

The pair looked at the outside of the house that they had crashed into, and decided that if fate had crashed them here, fate would probably want them to head inside.

They found themselves on the poorer side of town, a small and crowded house. Inside were a set of children scuttling around and preparing for a Christmas dinner- three of them. The door opened.

“Martha, Martha!” The children all crowded closer to the door. “You’re home”

“Sorry I’m late” Martha said, “there was a bit of work to finish up”.

“Well, that’s alright, as long as you’re here”

“Father’s coming!” cried one of the children, peering out the window.

Martha giggled mischieviously and ducked under the table. Her mother smiled.

Scrooge recognized the next man that came in through the door. “Why- that’s my clerk, Bob Crachit” he said.

“The child?” the ghost asked. Indeed, his clerk had his son, Tiny Tim upon his shoulders.

“No, I didn’t hire a child- I meant the man.”

“That does make a bit more sense” the ghost replied.

“Now where’s our sweet Martha?” the clerk asked, setting his son down on the floor.

“Not coming” Mrs.Crachit said sadly.

“Not coming?” Mr. Crachit asked “Not coming on Christmas day?

Martha popped out from under the table at that moment- “Surprise!”

Mr. Crachit laughed at the joke, pulling his daughter into a hug.

Scrooge and the ghost watched onwards as the family had their Christmas feast. If it were possible to interact with the world, the ghost probably would’ve eaten it himself, especially the dish of black pudding that had been placed in the corner of the table. At the moment, however, the pair were merely observers to the outside world. The two watched on even as they finished their feast, and closed it out huddled together around the fire.

“Hey, you want to know a secret?” the ghost asked

“What?”

“That one, right there” the ghost pointed to Tiny Tim “won’t be here next Christmas”.

“What?”

“Yep, kid’s gonna die. Ain't that tragic?”

“Wh-why would a sweet child like that die?”

“Kid’s frail, sick with some unspecified illness- probably polio or flu or something. He’s going to die in less than a year. That’s what you get for being unvaccinated, and for being born before modern medicine.”

“Ghost,” Scrooge asked “Isn’t there anything you can do to stop it?”

“Scrooge, death happens all the time. That’s the thing about life- it can be snuffed out in an instant. Even for children, even for the ones we love.”

“But that’s not fair”

“No, no it’s not. Life is full of unfairness. Why should someone like you have money, when people like Mr. Crachit here have next to none? Why should people live on the streets when others live in big fancy houses? Why should people like you and me be alone, when everyone else gets to have this big happy family? Life isn’t fair, and you know what, neither is death.”

The world shifted around them.

“It seems fate would have us move on, Scrooge.”

This time, Scrooge found himself in a home that he recognized- the home of his Nephew, Fred. The house was crowded with party guests, a fancier, but still just as warm and welcoming. The place was filled with laughter, as they were in some sort of game-

“Are you sure it isn’t a wild dog?” Asked one of the guests

“No, no! I’d say it’s far more ferocious than a wild dog” said Fred

“Only yes or no, Fred, you know the rules”

“But what other animal could it be? It takes the streets of London, it growls, you should fear it when it’s angry- it isn’t found in a zoo, or sold for meat, and you wouldn’t find it pulling a cart… could it be a cat?”

Fred laughed a bit at that option as well. “No… not a cat.”

“It could be you” chided Scrooge at the ghost. “You could narrow it down and ask if it smells bad”.

“It couldn’t be, they don’t even know my name.” replied the ghost

One of the guests perked up. “I know, I know, It’s your uncle Scrooge!” At this the ghost burst into laughter. Scrooge huffed angrily at that.

“It’s perfectly fine. Besides, it’s tame compared to the things I’ve heard people say about me! And they summoned me there, only to be all disappointed that the demon they summoned is ‘too ugly’ or ‘smells like a rotting carcass’ or ‘keeps stabbing me’. It’s incredibly rude.” The demon said.

“Summoned you?”

“Oh yeah, mortals like you can summon me up by saying my name three times. It unleashes so many more of my powers, and it’s super fun. I haven’t had a mortal summon me in centuries though.”

“What is your name anyway?” asked Scrooge

“Can’t tell you.” the ghost shrugged “Ghost rules.”

“Perhaps… we could play a round for it? See if I could guess it?”

“Maybe… it’s two words put together. First word is… a living thing”

“Alright- is it a plant?”

“No.”

“Is it an animal?”

“Is a bug a type of animal?”

“Okay, so it’s a type of bug. Can it fly?”

“Yeah”

“Is it colorful?”

“Probably”

“Probably?”

“It’s a category, so there’s a bunch of different kinds”

“So… an ant?”

“No, those taste completely different”

“Is it a moth?”

“Nope.”

“A grasshopper?”

“No. You’re not very good at this game”

“Well I don’t know many bugs, so you’ll have to forgive me for being bad at this.

“Then you’ll be guessing for awhile. Might as well have a snack”. The ghost pulled some insects out of his pockets, and started eating the squirming things.

“You… eat beetles?”

“Hey, that’s it!

“Eat?”

“No, the bug part”

“Beetles?”

“Yep! That’s the first part of my name. Well, not plural.”

The game went on for a long while, as the ghost managed to somehow get Scrooge to guess that the second half of his name was “Juice”.

“Your name is Beetlejuice?”

“Technically, it’s spelled differently, but I’m illiterate so that doesn’t matter. You know, even though I’m contractually obligated to be here, it’s been nice spending time with you.”

“So if I said that two more times, you’d be summoned up into the human world?”

“Not exactly- I was already summoned by your ghost friend, so it would technically un-summon me.”

“So I could just say your name three times and be done with this night?”

“That would be a bad idea. It would break the demonic contract I have with your ghost friend, and you do not want to break a demonic contract. So you’re stuck with me for another chapter after this one”

“Well, maybe it won’t be so bad.” Scrooge said “You aren’t as much of an annoyance as I originally thought you were”.

“That is the nicest thing anyone's ever said about me. Who cares that we aren’t welcome anywhere else. I’ve had a wonderful night spending Christmas with you.” Beetlejuice pulled Scrooge into a hug.

The crowd around Fred was laughing yet again.

“And he actually called Christmas a Humbug? Can you believe it?”

“I can- you know how much of a grouch he is.”

“I don’t see why you invite him every year”

Beetlejuice froze at that.

“You- you were invited to this party? But you were alone-”

“Hey, you’re alone too. We’re together- you’re like me-”

Beetlejuice’s expression twisted into one of pure fury. “I am nothing like you. You chose to be alone, but I don’t have a choice. You made a bunch of mistakes in your life, but I’ve never even had a life. Do you have any idea how many people I would kill to be given just one of the chances you’ve had? Do you have any clue what it’s like down there?”

“I thought you liked the parties-”

“The parties? Everyone in the Netherworld is DEAD, Scrooge. You’re in the wrong place if you want a lively party. You had people who loved you in your life, and you squandered it. You know, I was trying to go easy on you. I was trying to be a good friend, because I felt bad for you. But you’re just as bad as the other humans- they don’t even realize how good they have it, and waste their lives, only to cry about it when everything is gone.”

In the distance the clock was striking midnight.

“See you soon, Ebeneezer.” Beetlejuice said “And this time, I’m done playing nice.”

#Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice fanfiction #A Christmas Carol #Except with Beetlejuice

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sparxwrites · 3 years ago

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“You left me,” says Scar, when he finds Grian on top of one of his wagons at several hours past midnight, a week after they– well. A week after. None of them have talked about it enough to give it a name, but it hangs in the air between them. Puts a wall up, between them and the ones who didn’t get taken, the ones who don’t understand why their friends have gone quiet and distant and cold.

Some of them have coped better than others, of course. It takes more than a nightmare sequence to dampen Rendog boundless enthusiasm, and Cleo’s half-violent and mostly-unhinged at the best of times. Tango seems more embarrassed than emotionally scarred. But Mumbo’s stopped restocking his end crystal shop, and Etho’s been trailing Bdubs like a shadow, and both of them look at Grian like they want to hurt him, and Grian–

Grian’s been avoiding just about everyone, mostly. Grian’s been avoiding Scar, especially.

Which makes it all the more strange that he’s here, now. It’s dark. It’s cold. Most everyone else is asleep, and the ones who aren’t are only awake because they’re so focused on whatever they’re building that they lost track of the passage of time entirely. Yet here is Grian, on top of one of Scar’s wagons, legs hung off the edge of the roof and wings splayed out loose behind him, awake and not building and with a distant sort of look in his eye.

“You left me,” presses Scar, when he gets no reply, because it’s late, and he’s tired, and the hurt has been sitting like a stone in his gut for a week now. Festering. “You, and all the others, just– taking my things, and moving on. Even when you signed contracts.” He winces. That just sounds pathetic, even to him. “You all did it, but– You.”

And there’s the crux of it: but you.

He expects it from the others. Expects it from just about everyone, really; there’s nothing like being a salesman to make you realise just how easy it is to take advantage of people, and he doesn’t begrudge people turning his own tactics against him. Not much, anyway. But last time... last time this had happened, last time they’d all been taken and penned in and set on one another like animals in a cage, Grian hadn’t left. Last time, Grian had stood by his side.

Last time, it had been them against the world, right up until they– Right up until the end.

Grian doesn’t pretend to not know what Scar’s talking about. That’s a small mercy, at least. “I stayed, last time,” he says, instead, which doesn’t really answer the question. He’s not looking at Scar. He’s staring up at the unnaturally huge moon, its pale light reflected in the bottomless dark of his pupils.

He’s not looking at Scar, but Scar is looking at him.

“I stayed,” Grian repeats, “right until the very end. Even after I died, even after I didn’t have to any more. Even after you–” He cuts off. They both wince. “I stayed, last time, and then I had to beat you to death with my bare hands.”

“...Ah.”

Scar feels... a little stupid, perhaps. A little guilty. A little selfish. He hadn’t thought of that. From his end, it was– not pleasant, in absolutely no way pleasant, but it was easy. Being red hurt, like an itch that could never be scratched, like an ache in his back teeth, like a drum beat in his head that just wouldn’t quit. He’s never much liked marching to a rhythm other than his own. Dying was, in some ways, a relief. A blessing.

Letting himself be killed by Grian was, perhaps, the easiest choice he’d ever made in that godforsaken place.

He’s never thought about it from Grian’s perspective, though, not really. Grian won’t talk about what happened after, to any of them. What happened when it was just him, alone, the last man standing in a land of the dead. But Scar can imagine it easily enough, now he’s setting his mind to it – the blood, the quiet, the emptiness. The corpses.

His corpse.

“Yeah.” Grian sighs, heavily, and kicks his legs back and forth where they’re hanging over the edge of the wagon roof. “Ah.”

The two of them sit there, for a while, and watch the stars. They’re bright tonight. Almost as bright as the enormous moon. They’re like little fractures in the sky, tiny shards of broken glass where the canopy of the night’s been punctured enough to let the light through. If Scar squints, he can almost imagine spiderwebbing cracks between them, the heavens beginning to pry themselves apart. Or, well. He hopes he’s imagining it, anyway. He’s beginning to get the sinking feeling he isn’t.

Grian’s the first to break the silence. ��I thought maybe... if I. If we. If I stayed away, then it might keep us safe. Or, at least– I wouldn’t have to kill you, right? At least I wouldn’t have to– gah. It sounds stupid, when I say it like that. But I thought it might keep us safe.” A pause, and then, so quietly Scar thinks he might not have been supposed to hear it, “I thought it might keep you safe.”

“...Well,” Scar says, forced and bright and cheery, and ignores the hand slipped through his ribcage to make a fist around his heart. “That didn’t really work out, now, did it.”

“Nope!” Grian laughs, a wheezy little thing, half an octave too high and slightly hysterical with it. “Nope. It sure didn’t!”

And then Scar’s laughing, too, because– what else is there to do? The moon is too big, and the stars are too bright, and the tremors had ratcheted up to a rate of once an hour at Doc’s last count. And this time a week-and-change ago, half of them were sick with bloodlust and blind with rage, trapped like rats in a far-off cage, trying to kill their friends for fun.

The new scar on Scar’s neck where Rendog’s final arrow hit itches something fierce. Grian’s rubbing at his knuckles like he expects to find old blood in the cracks of them. The moon is far, far too big where it hangs above them, squatting bloated and wrong in the sky.

What else is there to do, but laugh?

“For what it’s worth,” says Grian, quietly, when the laughter passes, and it’s just them on a roof in the cold once more, “I’m sorry. For both of them. For– for all of it. I really am.”

Scar inhales, slowly. Looks up at the moon, bright and full and pale. Looks back at Grian, dark eyes wide as dinner plates and gaze fixed determinedly on the black and open sky before them.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, quieter still, “I’m sorry too.”

#hermitcraft #last life smp #third life smp #scarian #if you squint anyways #last life third life #hermits crafting #hermitfic #last life third life fic #fic #i have................ many thoughts about these two always #i especially have thoughts about them avoiding each other in last life #or rather. about scar's ongoing romance with loneliness and abandonment in last life #and about cc!scar's aggressive editing out of friendliness on grian's part in his pov #and about stuff other people have written about ll!grian thinking love makes you weak #and that it's pointless/meaningless

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gryffindormarveltwilight · 3 years ago

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Secrets Out Part 2 (Demetri x Reader ~ Marvel Crossover)

A/N: Here is part 2 to the series...I currently don’t know how many parts there will be...there will be more Demetri and reader moments in upcoming parts though, I think I have set the story enough now,,,please send any story suggestions or feedback!

Part 1

WARNINGS: Violence, Mentions of Blood and Death, Injury

Pairings: Demetri x Reader

‘Clint! What the hell are you doing here?!”

Felix looked at me with shock on his face and growled.

“You know this human Y/N!”

“Yes Felix from a lifetime ago, let him go please.”

As Felix dropped him on the cobblestone, he looked up at me like he had seen a ghost, but then again considering they thought I was dead it probably an expected welcome.

“Red….you are actually alive” he mumbled “I wasn’t going mad”

“No Clint you weren’t and as much as I love this catch up can we do it somewhere I can maybe patch my shoulder up.”

“Oh come on Red I’ve seen you with worse than this.”

Felix growled protectively from behind me glaring at Clint.

“Be that as it may, it still hurts, Fe can we take him back to the castle then he can explain why he is here.”

Felix reluctantly agreed stating however there were going to be four very unhappy vampires when we returned to the castle with my shoulder bleeding and a knife sticking out of it and an unknown human. I made Felix promise to help hold them off until I found out why Clint was here.

As we made our way to the entrance of the castle I turned to Clint.

“Listen clint things are about to get weird and I need you to do as I say, considering our….profession I think I can convince Caius, Aro and Marcus to let you live okay?”

He looked confused but nodded in agreement. As Felix pushed the door open suddenly Demetri Heidi and the Twins flashed before us, the twins growled as they smelt the blood and looked to Clint, I knew the look in Jane’s eyes and quickly stepped in front of Clint. I whimpered in pain as I fell to the ground, Jane gasped and stopped her gift immediately as Demetri broke out of his trance and ran to my side. Heidi looked ready to attack Clint as Felix stood in front of him exchanging a look that meant back off.

“What the hell happened out there Y/N?” Demetri questioned growling once again as he looked at Clint.

“It’s a long story lets just say this is a friend from work, he threw a knife at me I would assume to make sure I was real and not a figment of his imagination, I am about to question him as to why he is here, good enough summary.”

I say as Demetri helps me to stand up confusion written across everyone’s faces. “Heidi can you please get me the first aid kit, Hawk come stitch me up.”

“Are you sure Red, I think your boyfriend might kill me if I come close to you” he laughed

“Don’t laugh human, first I am her husband,” Clint looked at me in shock “Second I still may kill you for throwing a knife at her.”

“Demetri, play nice this is one of my closest friends, plus hawk we had a pact you make someone bleed you stitch them up.” I smirked clint rolled his eyes mumbling something about how that shouldn’t count considering I was meant to be dead.

As Clint started to patch me up the Heidi and the twins moved to sit on the bench opposite us though Demetri and Felix wouldn’t move from behind me staring at Clint. Whenever I gasped at anything I heard five growls from around the room and Clint flinched every so slightly. As he finished I pulled my shirt back onto my shoulder and looked at Clint.

“Now that that is done, want to tell me what the hell you are doing here Hawk, shouldn’t you be off with the Avengers or Tasha, or I don’t know with your kids.” Clint rolled his eyes at my comment.

“I am here because of Hydra Red.”

I perked up at the mention of this I knew they had been my last mission but I had been tracking them since my stay in Italy all those trips on tour days weren’t just shopping days I was doing surveillance looking for any activity.

“Not possible Hawk, I’ve been monitoring Hydra activity since your little stint in Sokovia they have gone for months, so try again why are you here.”

Everyone was now looking at us as I stood up pacing the room Demetri looked concerned the others all looked as though we were speaking another language.

“You knew about Sokovia, you could’ve helped Red.” Clint grew frustrated at that comment.

“How Hawk, I was dead, as long as you didn’t drag Gunner out of the woods to fight, I had no business in Sokovia, that’s avenger stuff, I don’t do that not anymore.”

“Drag Matt out of the woods?” Clint said confused “What the hell are you talking about Red, that kid has been nonstop since you disappeared looking for you, hell he came to Sokovia hoping you’d show if you were alive.” Clint start scolding me like I was a child.

“I should of known he wouldn’t stick to the deal.”

“What deal Red?”

“That if one of us died the other got out, left this god forsaken life actually retire instead of going out with a damn bullet.”

I had almost forgotten there was other people in the room until Alec spoke up.

“Y/N, what life are you talking about we found you in a warehouse with Newborns, we always assumed you were forced there by them, but I am starting to think that wasn’t the case.”

I looked at the group with guilty eyes, I knew they wanted an explanation I could see the hurt looks on their faces that I had hidden my entire life from them, Demetri looking the most hurt that me, his mate and entire reason for existing had lied to him and not told him about my past. I sighed as I started explaining.

I explained the Red Room and the missions my conversion to a shield agent from a widow the avengers and New York.

“My last mission the one that you guys found me, I was here in Volterra with Matt or Gunner as we call him, hunting for hydra agents you see when shield fell all our information got released including my past in the red room, turns out I really only trading the red room for hydra, so I wanted to end it. During the war when Captain America was fighting them, they used bases here in Italy, we tracked movement thinking we made have found their main base given the amount of movement, but we were wrong it was the Newborns, that is when you found me. Gunner was outside on the sniper ready to take down any target just before you guys arrived, I sent him away to get him to safety.”

“Why, why get him to safety and not yourself?” Jane asked confused why I would risk my life to save him.

“He was my Alec Jane, that’s why he saved me gave me a better life, in the life that we were in there were few ways we could make it out most of them involved going out fighting. Like I said we were the team they sent on impossible missions with no extraction plans it why I made the deal with him I knew I wouldn’t get out of the life alive, but he could, he had time. When you guys arrived, and I saw Demetri I knew I wanted to be with him, and it gave me a chance to start over and with me going Matt could get out as well”

Heidi looked at me with sympathy upon hearing this, Jane glanced at Alec understanding where I was coming from as she would do the same for Alec and Alec for Jane, Felix looked expressionless he looked as though he didn’t know how to feel he wanted to be mad at what I had been through but proud at the selflessness I showed even at my own expense. I couldn’t brave looking at Demetri scared I would see anger in his face, instead I was met with a sad look venom glazing over his eyes as he pulled me into a tight hug mumbled sweet nothings about how brave I was and how proud he is that I was his mate.

“That’s all well and good Red but Hydra isn’t the only reason I am in Italy”

I broke from Demetri’s grasped and spun to look at clint urging him to continue.

“I am here for Matt or more so here looking for Matt.”

“I am not following Clint what do you mean.”

“Matt came back here, to look for you he has been asking around town, he never believed you were dead, about three weeks ago he called me said he had spoken to a rather creepy looking man one similar to what he had seen the night you went missing, he said that man had seen you before around Volterra and that he was going to come looking for you here at the castle where the men had seen you and report back. I haven’t heard from him since”

I mumbled a slight no I knew what this meant, and I started pacing again mumbling to myself thinking that it was now my fault that my best friend and partner was missing. As I glanced around, I noticed the guard all looking at each other like they knew something we didn’t before Demetri moved next to me and spoke.

“Did your friend say if this man had an accent and a partner?”

“Yes he did how did you know that?”

Next it was Felix’s turn to speak, “Did he say what accent he had?”

“Yes”

“And what did he say human?” Jane growled seemingly knowing the answer already.

“Romanian.”

#demetri volturi x reader #demetri x reader #demetri volturi #twilight #marvel #felix volturi

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johnsamericano · 3 years ago

Text

𝒯𝒽𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓎 𝓁.𝓉 6

summary: Your mother hires the most wanted tailor in town to design a new dress for the ball, who turns out to be completely different from what you’d expected. But you couldn’t allow yourself to catch feelings for him, not when you were finally so close to marrying your childhood crush.

warnings: infidelity

taglist: @multistan30

threads of destiny m.list

“So...How is everything going? Found some interesting lady yet?” Johnny looked at his friend through the mirror beneath him. He shook his head. “That's a pity. I'd love to have kids around the same time you do. I imagine them being friends, playing around while we have some tea with our wives...” He sighed, completely lost in his daydream.

“You are very much in love with y/n, aren't you?” He successfully concealed the sad tone in his voice with a fake smile.

“Ever since we were both young, I thought of her as a funny little child. But it wasn't until she turned sixteen, with all her witty replies and cocky attitude, that I truly started thinking of her as a woman. Have I told you the story of when she scolded me for not holding my fork correctly?”

“No, you haven't.” It was pure agony for the tailor. Knowing you'd marry a gentleman like Johnny, and not some other scumbag, was like a hot knife slowly stabbing his chest.

“They’d invited me over for dinner that night. I had only had etiquette lessons when I was a kid, but no one had ever commented on my manners.” He made a brief pause, smiling to himself. “I was quietly enjoying dinner when she suddenly took my hand and replaced the fork between my fingers. I recall her saying something about how much my way of holding it had been annoying her. Oh god, her mother scolded her so badly that night.” Johnny could almost travel back to that evening, staring at your beautiful orbs that lately had been driving him insane. “I think it was then that my heart started racing every time I saw her.”

“And you're spending the rest of your lives together. Must be wonderful...” Ten busied himself fixing his friend’s suit, marking the spots he'd have to cut and sew.

“I can't wait for you to live it as well. I'll find a proper lady for you as soon as I finish with the wedding preparations” The tailor smiled and nodded in response, putting an end to the conversation that was painfully clenching his heart.

He made some corrections here and there as fast as he could, eager to guide his friend out of the shop. The universe, however, had different plans for him.

“Is anyone here?” His hands stopped dead in their tracks as a familiar voice reached his ears.

Your mother.

“Mrs. Lee?” Johnny’s face brightened, stepping down from the pedestal he was standing on to greet his soon-to-be mother.

Oh, but she wasn't alone. You were walking closely behind her, fear taking over your features as soon as you saw both men.

“Johnny, what a pleasant surprise to meet you here!” Your mother shoved you in front of her body, holding you tightly by the shoulders. “We’re here to give our trusty tailor a task of utmost importance.”

“How can I help you, my lady?” His palms were sweaty.

“Go on, sweetheart, ask him if he could help us.” Just as if you were a little child, your mother urged you forward, an old piece of cloth between your hands. “I’ll be outside with Johnny if you excuse us.”

“Miss y/n.” You were standing face to face, soon left alone as your mother exited the store with Johnny, probably to show him the bakery where she'd just ordered your wedding cake. “Y/n...” He whispered ever so softly, tasting the sweet sound your name made as it flew out of his mouth. “I need to speak with you.”

“I just came here to have my grandmother’s veil fixed, Ten.” You shoved his way the thin piece of lace that had acquired a light shade of yellow from all the years. “Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it.”

“I hate the fact that I'm so selfish I can't be happy for my very best friend...” He caressed the patterns in the veil. “But how could I be when he's stealing away the woman I cherish?”

“The woman you cherish...” You scoffed, tightening your fists. “Interesting. Exactly how many women do you cherish, Ten?” The image of him with another woman still wounded you. Even worse, it hurt your pride.

“What you saw that day was nothing, I swear on my life. I was only trying to get rid of the thought of you.” He stepped closer and closer, forcing you to retreat until your back hit one of the walls. “Do you believe me?”

It took a few seconds for the words to truly settle in your ears. His proximity was too distracting.

“No.”

“I’ll gladly get on my knees if that's what it takes for you to forgive me.” He started to lower as if to prove his promise was true.

“That won’t change a thing.”

“Then what will? I'll do anything, y/n.” He grabbed your hands, warming them with his own. “Just say something.”

“If I cancel my engagement now, my whole family will suffer the consequences. Even if I want to forgive you, I cannot be selfish to those who love me.” Your fingertips traced his palms. “We should've never crossed that line.”

Ten retrieved his hands to place them on the wall behind you, caging your body with his arms.

“Who says you have to cancel your engagement?”

“...Pardon?” Caught by a sudden rush of bravery, he tenderly attached his lips to your neck.

“I'm willing to stay in the shadows as long as it means I can be with you, even if it's just for a couple of minutes every day. Just kissing your lips for a moment would be more than enough for me.”

“I can't do that to Johnny.” Your mind and heart were fighting each other, trying to get the right solution to your situation.

His hands touched your perfectly done hair, twirling a strand of hair between his fingers.

“I know it's wrong, but I can't help it. Even if it means being selfish, I need to have you by my side.” His breath was tickling your cheeks ever so slightly. “Tell me...tell me you want this too.”

You tripped over your words, lost in his brown orbs.

“Ten...” You whispered.

“Y/n...”

Your lips pressed against his as if to seal an unspoken promise, one that no one could ever know about.

#nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios #nct angst #wayv #wayv angst #wayv smut #wayv fluff #wayv fanfic #wayv ten #wayv scenarios #nct ten

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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

Note

How about some barbarian bakugo noncon?

Prelude - One time I came home from a walk and smelled this scent so freaking thick that I could taste it, and I almost threw up cause it smelled like skinning a deer but like, ten times worse?? and I was like lol that’s kinda weird and it turns out the neighbor had caught a skunk in a catch-and-release trap (which we gave him cause we didn’t want him catching a skunk in a trap that’d kill it) and apparently decided to kill it right then and there, and just let it by the edge of his property, right by my car. That was fun.

Anyways, Katsuki makes a big deal about reader looking different in this. You can take that any way you’d like. Personally, I was feeling insecure about my freckles (I have so many that my skin almost looks even-toned because they almost all touch rip) and my hair color/odd face so I wrote him liking that reader looked different. It’s not super deep lol

Pairing - Bakugou Katsuki X Reader X slight Izuku Midoriya

Warnings - NSFW, dubcon, noncon, voyerisum, exhibistionism, blood mention lol. Idk groping?

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4FeWr4OsidcJClBjUEBHWI?si=OPHwLWXrTsiNQ42SlMKLEg

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There is a point where you stop screaming.

A point when you realize that no one is coming to save you, that you’re wasting your breath, that it’s fruitless. Does nothing more than raw your throat and grate against your own ears.

It’s no use. The Barbarian King seems unaffected, perhaps even spurred on by your ear-splitting screams. There’s no reason to scream anymore - it’d be impossible to scream forever.

——

Village in flames, corpses littering the streets. You’d heard about the stench of death from books, from traveling warriors who stop in your village for a night, regaling the people with tales of heroics and strength. It smelled quite different from what you had imagined though.

Metallic, yes, but tangy, thick enough for you to taste the iron seeping into the ground. Raw, like the scent of the butcher’s shop, heavy and suffocating - you hadn’t been able to breathe.

Everything had happened so fast, too fast. People were dead, people were dying, people were killing and being killed. You had been running, trying to escape the stifling aroma of your village being drained, the barbarians running amok through the streets leeching out it’s lifeblood.

Then you had been falling, tripped up by a loose limb on the ground, a body still warm and rattling with it’s last breaths. Shocked by the vivid image of the gore underneath you, a man reaching for his severed arm, you hadn’t been able to catch yourself as you fell, a cry leaving your lips.

Darkness.

And then light as you slowly blinked to awareness, slumped on the ground. A line of prisoners, prizes from the raid. You were one of them, hands bound to your neck, ankles tied to the people on either side of you. Two men had come by after a while, a green haired man in dress similar to your own - perhaps a captured man from the village?

The other man was bare chested, as many of the barbarians were, gold and red paint swirled across his skin in intricate, sharp patterns. He looked fearsome, and he barked at the green haired man accompanying him who scribbled furiously onto paper at each utterance of the fearsome blonde man.

They seemed to be going down the lengthy line of prisoners, assigning them? Selecting them for something? You didn’t know, couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were numb, sealed off from the horrific event you had just experienced, safe within your cocoon of forced apathy.

And then the two men were in front of you, the blonde man silent as he stared you down, the green haired man with his pen poised, though he studied you also.

But they quickly moved on, the barbarian barking something at his companion, before striding to the next prisoner.

You had been untied from your fellow captives, led through the barbarian camp. Red tents, warm fires and laughter filled the space, bare-chested warriors of both genders celebrating their recent victory.

The large red tent you had been led to was warm, a fire crackling in the deep pit in the center, silky furs softening the harshness of the ground. There was a table in front of the fire, a large basin filled with water nearby, close to the fire. A desk in the corner, near the tent flap, and a folding screen hiding the back of the tent from view.

Promptly tied to the leg of a table, you were left alone, the woman who had dragged you here leaving before you could ask what was happening.

Shortly, green hair popped through the tent flap, quickly followed by the rest of the man from earlier, the one dressed like your people.

“Izuku Midoriya!” He had introduced himself, giving a little flourish as he bowed, before being pushed aside as the fearsome blonde from before entered the tent.

Still tied to the leg of the table, numb to the world, you merely stared at the ground when the two men approached.

“What’s your name?” The green haired man - Izuku - asked.

He was met with a blank stare.

The blonde man growled at your lack of answer, spitting something in his native tongue, words you didn’t understand. Izuku seemed to shrink, before turning to address you again.

“Please tell us your name. Kacchan is not the most patient man.”

The fearsome man beside him bared his teeth towards you, and you shrank back. He did not seem the type of person who tolerated being left waiting.

“(Y/N)….” You whispered, eyes falling to the ground.

“(Y/N), ah! Such an interesting name, the first part means-“ Izuku was cut off from his ramble with a shove from the blond man - Kacchan - who crouched down in front of you, rolling your name around his tongue.

Turning, he spoke to Izuku in the same jumbled language, who listened, then addressed you as Kacchan turned back to study you again.

“Kacchan would like to know uhm, uuh.....” Izuku trailed off, uncertain eyes flickering between you and the blonde.

Kacchan scoffed, listening to Izuku’s hesitancy with disdain, saying something directed at the younger man, yet Kacchan’s eyes were fixed on you the entire time. It was intimidating.

“He uh, wants to know ifyou’reavirgin.”

Oh god.

Even though the man’s words were rushed, you understood, limbs beginning to shake. You were going to be violated.

A finger poking your calf made you jump, the blonde man leering at you, head cocked to the side, eyebrow raised as if to say “Well?”

You shook your head - lovers had existed in your life, not many, but you still cherished each one deeply, thought back on the experiences you shared fondly.

When relayed this information, the blonde man seemed to grin even wider, rising to his feet. “This will be easier then, no need to go slow.”

With a gasp, you lifted your gaze, wide eyes taking in the man hovering above you. His words were completely forgotten as you took in the shock of understanding his words. He spoke your tongue? Wasn’t he using an interpreter? Why-?

The confusion must be apparent on your face, because Kacchan scoffed, turning to stride to the table, taking a seat facing the fire.

“It pays to play dumb.”

“Loose lipped locals give information more freely when they assume that Kacchan can’t understand them.” Izuku beamed, crouching down in the Barbarian’s previous place to begin untying the rope binding your hands and feet to the table leg.

“Stand up for me please.”

You did as Izuku asked, shakily rising to your feet with a helping hand from Izuku on your arm. He began leading you towards the basin nearby, Kacchan watching the two of you with sharp eyes.

“Do you need help with the fastenings?” Giving Izuku a confused look, your eyes fell to the basin, to the fire, to Kacchan seated at the table. Were they going…. Were they going to boil you alive? Eat you?

Trembling even harder now, it was only Izuku’s surprisingly strong grip on your arm that kept you upright, knees giving out beneath you.

“Help her out, she’s damn near useless.” Kacchan’s strong voice cut through the air, the air that seemed too thick, the air that was choking you, throat closing up.

What does one even do in this situation? Do you beg for your life? Scream for help? Who would come? Accept your inevitable fate?

There was no time to make a decision, however, because Izuku’s nimble fingers were pulling at the fastening of your dress, quickly unlacing it.

You were numb again, fingers leaden, legs heavy, mind fuzzy and listless. Izuku peeled down the top of your dress, and you barely thought to cover yourself - you’d be dead in minutes anyways, what did it matter?

Still, your hands rose to your breasts, shielding them from view involuntarily. Kacchan snorted from his sweat, but said nothing.

When you were completely bare, an arm over your chest, a hand over your sex, Izuku ushered you towards the basin, prompting you to step into it.

This was it, you were going to die.

One last shot of fear raced up your spine, and you turned to the green haired man by your side, his hand falling away from the small of your back. “Please, please don’t kill me, I don’t know what I did but please spare my life. Please, I’m sorry.” Tears were burning your vision, throat choked up with thickness.

Kacchan burst into laughter. “I’m not gonna kill you, the fuck?! Goddamn, your people call us barbarians yet you’re afraid of a bath, fucking hypocrites.” There was a mirthful glint in his eyes when you looked at him, the man leaning back in his chair, arms resting behind his head as he relaxed.

Izuku chuckled also, putting his hand on your lower back again, gently pushing you towards the basin. “You’ll be okay, it’s just some warm water. It’s close to the fire because we don’t want you to catch a chill. You know, the human body actually operates best when it’s within the temperatures of-“

“Deku, shut your trap before I come kick your ass, just get the girl into the water, you dumb fuck.”

The water was warm, and it felt pleasant against your skin, just on the right side of too warm, hot enough to have you relaxing your shoulders as you sank down lower, the liquid covering you up to your neck.

Izuku-Deku? Held your hair out of the way, quickly using a scoop to wet down the strands before rubbing some kind of herbal scrub through your scalp, cleaning out the dirt and debris that had gathered during the raid. You were certain you were absolutely filthy, covered in mud and small scraps, half of your side crusted with dried blood and muck from falling in the bloody street.

For a moment, you felt embarrassed at your earlier panic, silly and like a stupid child, thinking that they were going to boil and eat you. It was clear now what their intent had been, but riddled with fear your thoughts had been clouded and slow.

Fear was still present, rolling through your brain in waves, goosebumps rising from your flesh as you tried to hypothesize what was going to happen to you. From their earlier questioning, you had a faint idea, but you couldn’t bear to think about that outcome, didn’t know if you could tolerate it.

Instead, you let the warm water soothe your body, washing away the grime and dust. Izuku’s hands were gentle in your hair, as he massaged your scalp, as he rinsed out the soap. You tried to ignore how his breath hitched whenever you shifted - you couldn’t keep all of your body covered, no matter how you positioned yourself.

His hands disappeared from your hair, instead prompting your to sit up straight so he could scrub at your body with a cloth smelling of the herbal soap.

It felt weird, and goosebumps arose on your skin as strange hands touched your body. You closed your eyes and endured, for there was nothing else that could be done.

Running would be a bad idea - a naked woman sprinting through the barbarian camp would surely be caught and violated, or brought back to this tent for some twisted punishment. And you could only run if you managed to get past the two men, who ere watching you like hawks, and much, much stronger than you.

Izuku’s hands paused briefly at your chest, eyes flickering over to the blonde man, who nodded in permission. Then Izuku’s hand were running the cloth across your breasts, washing them in gentle circular motions, taking care to not scrub too hard or push too deep.

You bit your tongue as you waited for it to be over.

And it was soon, at least that part. Then the green haired man was instructing you up on your knees, facing him. Telling you to grab onto his shoulder (the man was also kneeling) and spread your legs apart.

Trembling limbs obeyed, face flushing bright red as you followed his commands, eyes squeezing shut so you wouldn’t have to look at his own flushed face.

He ran the cloth down your back, over your ass, then slipped it between your legs to wash your sex with easy swipes of the cloth. The man’s breathing picked up subtly, and you could tell, leaning up against him as you were. His hands wandered, the cloth moving slower and slower upon your cunt, almost stroking at your folds, his fingers pressing through the cloth.

“Oi, Deku! Keep your shitty hands to yourself, you’re supposed to be washing her up, not feeling her up, shitbrain.” Kacchan barked, slamming his fist down against the table to get Izuku’s attention.

Both you and the man in front of you jumped, Izuku immediately blushing the deepest red you’d ever seen, flashing the blonde an apologetic look and you a nervous smile, before he seemed to gather himself, continuing to dutifully cleanse your nether regions.

It was awkward for the both of you, feeling his hands run over your private areas, over your sex, through your ass cheeks. But then he was down, rinsing you off with scoops of warm water before fetching a large towel, ushering you out of the basin, holding out the towel to wrap around your body when you stepped out.

Then you were ushered closer to the fire, sat upon a small stool as you huddled close to the warmth, clutching the towel tightly around you. The air was quite warmer than outside, but was still cold to your wet skin.

Izuku began running his fingers through your hair, parting knots, patting sections dry with a corner of the towel. By the time he was finished, you felt warm again, face rosy from the heat of the fire.

The heat felt pleasant, like the feeling of a full belly after a long day.

You were tired, exhausted from the emotional weight you had endured. Village burned, tripping over corpses and disembodied limbs, taken captive, forced away from your fellow villagers. Stripped down and fondled - at this point, you just wanted to sleep.

To sleep and sleep, wake up and have this all be a bad dream. Some twisted nightmare your mind conjured up while in the warmth and safety of your own home.

A large hand upon your shoulder roused you from your half-asleep state, lulled by the warmth of the fire and the quietness of the tent. You jumped, turning to find Kacchan towering over you and Izuku both.

Kacchan crouched, his hand sliding from your shoulder to your hair, then onto your cheek. “You look so fuckin’ weird.”

Izuku sputtered. “Oh my god, what he means to say, is that we’ve never seen anyone like you before. You’re… quite unique, and very um, attractive.”

You leaned away from the hand on your cheek, and Kacchan let you, red eyes blinking slowly as they scanned your features. He was an odd man, as was Izuku. There was an obvious dynamic of power, Izuku submitting to Kacchan willingly.

“Alright, you’re dry enough, get up.” You blinked at Kacchan, processing his words, before he huffed out a breath, rising to his own feet. “C’mon, let’s go, are you stupid? Get the fuck up.”

You scrambled to your feet, towel still wrapped tightly around your body, preserving your modesty.

Kacchan’s hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you along with him as he strode towards the back of the tent, towards the sectioned screen acting as a wall.

“Deku, make your ass useful and dump out the bathwater, will ya?”

You weren’t able to see Izuku move due to the hand forcing your head forward, but you could hear his footsteps as he hurried to do what Kacchan instructed.

Rounding the screen, it was clear to see that this was where the Barbarian King slept, a pile of cozy-looking furs strewn in a pile on the ground.

You were promptly shoved towards them, stumbling down to your knees as you lost your balance. The furs provided cushion though, soft and inviting.

But you were scared again.

It was happening, it was going to happen, you were going to raped by the King.

Turning back towards the man, you began to plead, hands securing the towel around your shoulders like a safety blanket. “Sir, please, don’t do this, why me? You can have anyone, not me, please not me.”

He ignored you in favor of beginning to strip, unfastening his cloak, removing his weapons. You decided to try and appeal using a more personal approach.

“Kacchan-“

Suddenly the man was in your face, his own visage twisted into a growl.

“Don’t you ever fucking call me that. Stupid ass Deku made that shit up when we were kids, I’m not some brat anymore. I’m Katsuki-“ He backed away from you, leaving you trembling. “-Barbarian King.”

The man resumed removing his clothes, dropping his belt to the ground, grumbling as he began to undo his pants. “Should beat his fuckin’ ass for calling me that, so goddamn disrespectful. Fuck him, stupid little ass wipe twerp-“

You tuned him out, frozen. What could you do? Another impasse where your options were none.

A strong hand gripped your shoulder, or more accurately, your towel, tugging it forcefully away from you.

“No!” You cried, trying to pull it back, to cover yourself, but the man was stronger, ripping it away before you could utter another word.

“No! Stop, please!” You tried again, finally taking in Kacc-Katsuki before you. He was naked now, aside from the paint decorating his skin. His cock was quickly hardening, plumping up with each step he took towards you as you scrambled backwards.

“Katsuk-Katsuki, I’m begging you, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything! Please just have someone else!” You sobbed, back finally meeting the wall of the tent.

Katsuki smirked, crouching down just out of your reach. “You’ll do anything? You’ll let my horde use you as a toy then?”

Dread flowed through your already fear-filled body, and you gulped thickly, eyes closing.

“No?”

Shaking your head, you started to cry silently, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“You’re already doing fucking anything.” Katsuki growled, hand shooting out to grab your ankle, dragging you down and towards him.

A high-pitched cry left you as he pulled you under him, until he was hovering over you, grinning. “Cry all you want, ain’t gonna change a damn thing. In fact-“ He surged down, until his forehead touched your own, red eyes blazing “-It just turns me on more.”

The man pulled away, a hand falling heavily around your throat, giving a compulsory squeeze before hie started moving his hand downwards, fingers skimming across your flesh.

Immediately, your own hands caught his own, trying to still their journey as they neared your breasts. Katsuki paused, a sound akin to a growl falling from his throat as his eyes flickered away from your body and up to your own eyes.

There was a threat there, a warning. Let him touch, or else. Trembling, you removed your hands, instead grabbing at the furs you rested upon. Katsuki made a gruff sound of approval, before resuming his exploration of your body.

“You’re like nothing I’vs ever seen before, know that? Like some fuckin’ alien or something, but damn, you’re gorgeous. Didn’t even know someone could look like this.” He mused, entranced as he watched his hands splay over your body, pinching at your skin, caressing your breasts, slipping over your stomach and down between your legs.

“Oh god, pleaseee-“ You sobbed out, cringing as a finger trailed down your slit.

Katsuki stilled, quirking a brow as he smiled meanly. “Please what? You wanna cum?”

“Please stop…” You whispered, eyes clenching shut again as he found your clit, giving it a few quick rubs.

The man scoffed, before quickly teasing one of his fingers into your tight hole. “Tough shit, I’ve never had whatever the fuck you are, I ain’t stopping”

His finger burned, dry and too large, and you struggled to keep from clenching down upon it in discomfort, trying to force out the intrusion. This would go easier if you relaxed, if you let him have his way. You knew that, rationally, but it was hard to make you body obey.

Katsuki prepped you quickly, fingering you open until he deemed you ready, withdrawing his fingers and crudely wiping them off upon your thigh. You twitched away at the wetness, at your own slick being cleaned off on your skin, but Katsuki ignored you.

“Why do you look like this anyway? What the fuck happened?” Katsuki asked coarsely, shuffling off of your thighs, moving to lounge by your side, studying you.

The man seemed to be taking a break, more interested in your looks than fucking you, but you were glad for the reprieve, trying to wipe tears from your face as you struggled to think of a response.

“I-I don’t know?” You finally spoke, genuinely at a loss for how to explain your appearance.

Katsuki studied you with sharp eyes, a hand reaching down to his cock, beginning to absent-mildly pump himself while he looked you over.

“I’ve traveled through every shitty little village in the north, met with the damn piss-baby tribes of the east, I’ve ransacked the towns of spoiled nobles, and I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you.”

You sat up, subtly shuffling away from the Barbarian King while you shrugged, at a loss.

Your appearance wasn’t anything superiorly unusual, but apparently it piqued Katsuki’s interest. Yes, your skin was perhaps a bit different, but it’s not like you were inhuman.

Katuski seemed to get tired of talking though, settling further back into the furs, getting himself comfortable as he jerked himself off. You refused to look between his legs.

“Alright, whatever. Get up here.”

Pausing, you looked at him incredulously. Did he mean on his lap? His chest? You didn’t want to be anywhere near him - wouldn’t he find more pleasure with someone who was willing?

“Are you fucking deaf? C’mon, up.” He growled, patting his thigh, urging you over.

A gulp before you started moving, limbs heavy and hesitant, unwilling as you slowly crawled forward, towards the intimidating, impatient blonde.

You straddled his thighs unsteadily, swinging your leg over, trying to avoid touching his cock.

Unfortunately, despite your best efforts, you caught sight of it, the red tip, the precum making his length shine, the wrinkly, darker skin of his balls, his blond pubes.

You cringed, distaste evident upon your face, and you heard Katsuki chuckle darkly before his hands grabbed your hips, dragging you forward.

“What, don’t fucking like what you see? Am I not to your taste? I’ve fucked whorebag princesses less fussy than you. Get over yourself.” He spat, before taking a hand off your hip, reaching underneath you to line himself up as his other hand kept you lifted.

You trembled in his hold, twitching and swaying to the side, but this was unavoidable.

A gasp left your lips as he entered you, tip slipping through your folds, teasing into your wet hole, stretching you out.

Katsuki let out a groan, slowly dropping you down until he could remove his hand from his cock, returning it to your hip, guiding you to push further down. You felt disgusting, his cock sliding against your velvety insides, dirtying your walls with leaking precum.

When your sit bones rested against his upper thighs, his cock resting fully inside you, it felt impossible to breathe, your chest rising to draw in air but failing, the distress you felt upon being speared open seemingly too much for your body to handle.

“Fucking hell, you’re so tight. You got a dirty little cunt, don’t you? Feels fucking amazing.” Katsuki groaned, moving his hips minutely, relishing the grip your inside had on his cock, how warm you were around him.

“Ride me, will you? I’m getting bored down here.” He snapped after a moment, delivering a harsh slap to your rear to emphasize his words, spurring you into tentative action.

Problem is, you didn’t want to.

Your palms rested against his heated chest, eyes raising to the ceiling as your cheeks burned. This was embarrassing, you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t be an active participant in your violation. What would that make you?

“Oi, princess - I don’t got all night.“ Katsuki growled, landing a significantly more-jarring hit to rear, hard enough to make you squeak and jump, hips twitching at the sensation of his cock moving around your pussy at the movement.

Afraid of more forceful repercussions, you started to move, slowly sliding up, then down, creeping along, hoping it’d be enough to satisfy the man.

It wasn’t.

Katsuki grumbled something under his breath, before tightening his hold on your hips, planting his feet in the furs, then plunging into you with force. The sudden movement jostled you, and you fell forward with a cry, head bouncing onto Katsuki’s chest by your hands, the man groaning as he found a satisfactory rhythm.

“There we go, that’s fuckin’ nice.”

You cried into his chest, hands clutched into fists as you were bounced up and down, the led slap of skin too loud and jarring in the tent. The paint on Katsuki’s body was beginning to smear, sweat dampening his skin and letting the paint drip onto the ground, transfer to your own skin.

It was starting to feel good, make your stomach tighten, limbs tremble with pleasure instead of fear, and you hated it.

Slick sounds reached your ears, out of rhythm with Katsuki’s quick prods. It was wet, pulsing, as if someone-

Gasping breaths reached your ears, not from the man grunting beneath you.

Another round of cold fear dampened your arousal as you honed in on the sound, realizing it was coming from the other side of the screen.

Someone was on the other side of the screen, listening in to the Barbarian King taking you against your will.

A stuttered cry left you when Katsuki pushed too hard, hitting your sweet spot, making you clench and shudder, forgetting about the other person for a second.

But they were so loud, little gasps and moans, and the shlick, shlick, shlick, was getting faster and faster, it was impossible to ignore.

Should you try to tell Katsuki? Would he stop? Would he be mad? It was so disturbing, knowing someone was sitting on the other side of the screen, jerking themselves off so obviously .

“Katsuki-Katsuki wait, oh-“ You started, quickly cut off by a series of battering thrusts against your sweet spot.

But you had to try again. “Wait, sto-o-op, wa-unh, unh, Katsuki pl-mmh!”

“Shut up, I don’t fucking care.” The man snapped, out of breath.

“But there’s-oh…. Katsuki there’s someo-“

“I don’t /fucking care/.” Katsuki reiterated, gritting his teeth. He shut you up with another perfectly placed push against your sweet spot, and a cruel spank against your already-stinging ass.

“Ow!” You yelped, clenching up. It was clear now, that Katsuki was aware of the listener, he just didn’t mind. Maybe he got off on it, knowing someone was listening to him take apart his latest conquest.

Clenching up was the wrong response, because the Barbarian King swore, before his hips sped up, bouncing you so violently on his lap that you found it hard to breath, barely able to hang on for the ride.

“Oh…. (Y/N)….” The voice behind the screen moaned lowly, almost whispering.

It was Izuku.

You shivered, at the sound, feeling creeped out with the knowledge that the gentle, timid “interpreter” was listening. He must have returned at some point from dumping out the basin. You were feeling revolted by this entire situation, disgusted with Katsuki, Izuku, and most importantly with yourself.

Pleasure was building quickly in your stomach, zapping up into your chest, making you tingle and shake with the sensations assaulting your body.

“Sit back, fucking sit back-“ Katsuki panted, pushing at one of your shoulders to push you up, so he could see you as he fucked up into you, watch your body move, your face contorting in pleasure.

You felt like you couldn’t help it, your eyes closing, mouth falling open to let out girlish, high-pitched moans.

Your breasts were being jostled, jiggling up and down with the movement of your body, and it hurt. Hands moved to hold them, stopping their bouncing, but Katsuki appreciated the view apparently, because he groaned, pushing his head back while still trying to watch you.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Keep touching yourself princess, keep moaning like a little slut. Let Deku know how fucking good I’m making you feel.”

Your body didn’t give you a choice, noises being pushed from your throat involuntarily as Katsuki pounded into you, red eyes trained on your frame, intense and unwavering.

An orgasm ripped through you, seemingly out of nowhere despite the steady buildup of it the past few minutes. You gasped, breathing catching in your throat, hips furiously grinding down against Katsuki’s as you rode it out, trying to stimulate your clit to intensify the feeling.

The noises leaving you were perverted; wet gasps, little squeaks and long moans as you fucked yourself onto Katsuki’s cock, previous hesitance forgotten in preference of chasing your pleasure.

Katsuki swore underneath you again, rabbiting his hips up into you in response, breathing raggedly as he neared his own release.

You were so lost in feeling the sensations in your own body, you didn’t register the stuttered groans on the other side of the screen, the speedy clicking of Izuku jerking himself through his own orgasm, the almost-silent spatter of his cum hitting the screen.

Katsuki swore once more, a vehement “Shit, shit!” before he pulled out quickly, orgasm apparently catching him by surprise, the first few warm strings of cum shooting into your warm cunt, adding to the wet mess of your own orgasm.

The rest was aimed onto the puffy lips of your slit, one of Katsuki’s hands leaving your hips to pump his cock as he gasped, hips twitching upward at the sudden temperature change from your burning heat to the air of the tent.

Then there was just the sound of three people breathing heavily, completely spent, sweaty and dirtied from sex.

Katsuki pulled you down onto his chest, chuckling breathlessly as he brought his clean hand to your head, ruffling your hair tiredly.

“Well, you’re a goddamn catch, pussy’s like a fuckin’ vice.” The crude comment made your cheeks color, but as exhausted as you were, you couldn’t find the energy to offer a rebuttal.

“I think you’re gonna stick around for a while.” Katsuki mused, and you felt your heart drop. “Yeah, you’re a keeper. Maybe if fuckface over there-“ The blond slapped at the screen “-can stop being a pervert, we could actually fuck without feeling creeped out.” He growled, although the blonde didn’t sound irritated in the least.

A small “Sorry Kacchan” was whispered from the other side of the screen, and Katsuki laughed dryly.

“Tell you what bastard, maybe I’ll let you touch her a bit.” Katsuki said, a hand creeping down to knead at your ass. “Then you don’t have to act like a little freak. Who knows, maybe I’ll even let you fuck her if you do good translating those maps we found. Got it, you little shitnugget?”

“Mm, alright Kacchan.” Came the tired response.

You were barely awake, already drifting off on Katsuki’s warm chest, too preoccupied with the red and gold paint no doubt smearing against your cheek than with the conversation going on around you.

You could panic about that later.

#fun skunk story #srsly the air was so thicc #it made my eyes water and my stomach cramp #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #barbarian #barbarian katsuki #barbarian bakugou #tw dubcon #tw noncon #dark bakugou #kidnapping #captive #blood #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere

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luxwritesfanfic · 4 years ago

Text

On Tap

Sherlock insists that it would work better with the reader on top and after the night they’ve had, there’s no point in arguing. Or, the one where reader plays superhero for poor Greg and her beloved detective. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You hadn’t even taken your shoes off when your phone started ringing in your purse. Sighing, you dug around for it with one hand and reached for the lightswitch with the other. Work had been incredibly stressful since you were working short during flu season and everyone in London had been feeling under the weather apparently. You had told your coworkers that if they really needed you that you would come back even though you had put a solid 16 hours in. Sherlock and John had gone out for John’s bachelor party so you didn’t mind working late, and Bucky was visiting his brother in the States so all your time was truly yours. You had thought about soaking in the bath or catching up on that show you always missed, but all of those thoughts were stopped in their tracks when the ringing persisted.

“Hey, what’s up?” You tried not to sound like you’d rather chew on glass than clock one more minute into the hospital but you weren’t sure you were so convincing.

“Come get him. Please, for the love of God, come get him.” At hearing Greg’s voice, you were both relieved yet confused. Sherlock must’ve invited him last minute to celebrate with them, you didn’t remember him saying that he was coming along.

“Oh, I didn’t know you went out with the boys! Where are you guys?” It was nice to know they were all having a good time. You liked Greg and thought he was a really good friend for Sherlock and John. You had plopped down on the couch and had started pulling one of your shoes off when he said, “No, I didn’t go with them. They were brought to me. Someone called the cops on them and now I’ve got tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum arguing about the solar system and taking turns puking in my waste bin. Please, I beg of you, come get him. Matter of fact, I can bring him home. If that makes the process quicker--- I mean easier.” You heard Sherlock trying to take Greg’s phone in the background, asking to talk to you and then quickly after arguing with John once more if it was really that important he knew they orbited the sun. Greg sounded just as exhausted as you felt and you could only imagine how annoyed he was by the drunk detective that he was already annoyed with most of the time sober.

“Yeah, yeah of course I’ll come get him. I’m actually at my flat though, so if you could meet me at his place that would be awesome. I’d just need a few minutes to finish up here...” You mourned the hot bath you were never going to get to take and worked on shoving the shoe you just took off back on, “did you call Mary for John?”

“Yes, she’ll be over soon. As soon as she gets here, I’ll bring Sherlock. You’re doing the Lord’s work, thank you.” With that, he hung up and you went to your room to pack an overnight bag. You were exhausted and if you had to go all the way to Sherlock’s, it would be easier for you to crash on the couch than to try to come back home late.

By the time you got to Sherlock’s, you were dragging your feet up the stairs and you could barely keep your eyes open. You had received a text from Mary when she picked John up saying “good luck” and you wished you knew what you were walking into. You had never seen Sherlock drunk, or heard any stories of him being drunk, but you were sure he was even more eccentric than he was sober. If you weren’t so tired, you’d be jumping with joy at the experience to see Sherlock so out of character.

You went into Sherlock’s room and laid out some pajamas for him and went ahead and put a water bottle and some Advil on his nightstand because you were sure he would need it. After doing that, you changed into something more comfortable too and rummaged through his fridge to see if there was anything to eat. Thumbs, unsalted butter, and milk that shouldn’t look like blue cheese was what was on the menu and you had decided sleep for dinner sounded much more appetizing. You’d go shopping for him tomorrow.

Greg had texted that he was outside but Sherlock didn’t have his key so you made your way down the steps to meet them. Upon opening the door, Sherlock looked up at you like he hasn’t seen you in ages. He stumbled towards you and held you at arms length with a look of wonder on his face. “Finally! Y/N, I was thinking I’d die from being surrounded by total stupidity, and here you are. Ever the shining light and the beacon of hope.”

You felt the heat from his stare and turned to Greg to try and keep your composure under all his attention. “Uh.. I— thank you. For bringing him home.”

Still staring at Sherlock and shocked by his outburst, Greg met your eyes with a knowing smile. “It’s no trouble. He’s your problem now. Good luck, my dear.” He was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving you with a very drunk Sherlock Holmes and a dozen steps to climb.

“Okay,” you clapped your hands together, turning towards the door, “do you think you can get up the stairs? Or do you want me to help you?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” he started until his eyes widened like he forgot who he had been talking to. It had only been a second but he saw the look that flashed across your face. You hated when he made you feel dumb because you always tried so hard to keep up with him, and he knew that. You didn’t have a chance to react before he quickly interrupted. His previous statement was immediately followed by, “I’m sorry. Forgive me. Please help me.”

You just nodded, unsure of what made him have such a quick change of heart but you were happy he did. You hated him thinking you were dumb. In comparison to him, maybe, but you were intelligent in your own right and you did a better job of keeping up with him than most. He threw his arm around your shoulders to steady himself and allowed you to lead him carefully up the stairs. He started telling you about his night and it honestly sounded like he had a great time, and so did John. You were really happy that it all worked out even if they did end up with Greg at the end of it all.

As soon as the back of Sherlock’s legs hit his chair, he was down in a clean swoop and you took the opportunity to start untying his shoes. He seemed like he was lost in thought and was quiet for a few moments but you could tell from the way he was swaying that he was too far gone to sober up before the morning.

“I already put your clothes out for you and I’ll help you to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’ll love me for that in the morning.” You smiled at him as you pulled off his loafers and moved to stand up so that you could figure out how you were going to get him out of his chair.

“Will I, though? Will I tomorrow once I’m in my right mind?” He asked, and while he didn’t say it in an ignorant tone, it sounded like Sherlock, and that was close enough.

You looked at him hoping he’d say something else. But he didn’t, and he looked back at you with a look of confusion as if he was really expecting you to answer that. It seemed like just last week he was in your bed trying to convince you that he didn’t have eyes for anyone besides you and now he’s reminding you that he’s not even sure of that. Sherlock could have you at the top of the poll and then have you kissing the ground in the same hour if he tried.

“It’s just a saying. I didn’t really mean...you know, let’s— let’s just get you to bed. It’s late and you have a date with a hangover in the morning.” You could tell he was on the verge of passing out which was good in the way of no more awkward conversations but horrible in that you’d never get him into bed as dead weight. So you pushed things along and eventually got him in bed before he was out like a light.

Draping the blanket over him, you watched as his eyes fluttered behind his lids and how his lips twitched as fell into a deeper sleep and you were sure then that you would never love anyone more. You would never understand how he didn’t realize how beautiful he made the ordinary and how easily he made everything extraordinary. Afraid that you’d turn to stone if you spent any more time staring at him, you turned off his light and made your way to the living room where the the couch had never looked more inviting. It didn’t take you long to get settled in and asleep seeing as the TV in the background ended up being the perfect thing to mask Sherlock’s drunk snores and you had never been more tired in your life.

—

“I thought you were staying over?”

It had only been a few hours since you had put Sherlock to bed when he found himself looking over you on the couch, wrapped up in his bedsheet.

“M’right here.” You murmured into the pillow, body still turned away from Sherlock on the couch. He was probably still drunk and you were hoping if you laid still enough he’d wander back to bed.

He didn’t respond to you, instead he continued to stand and stare with his lips pursed and brows furrowed. You had drifted back off only to be nudged awake once more.

“I won’t fit like that.” He gestured with the hand not holding the sheet to the couch, sounding exasperated like he had been explaining this to you all night. “It’ll only work if you’re on top, so get up so I can lie down first.”

You didn’t process what he said really, you just knew that if he was being persistent and you didn’t do as he asked he’d never let you go back to bed. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the light and swung your legs off the couch, standing on stiff bones. Sherlock immediately made to get comfortable on the couch while you stood dazed and confused and he cleared his throat expectantly when he had finally got settled. He was on his back with one arm holding the sheet up between himself and the back of the couch allowing room for you to climb over and snuggle right into him.

All you could do was blink and hold his stare as he waited expectantly, still holding the sheet for you. You didn’t think he was asking you to lay with him, especially with how close you’d two be. Sure, you shared your bed before, but there was always enough room for you both to have your own space. You could tell he was getting embarrassed by your reaction, or lack there of.

“I didn’t think this would be rocket science, even for someone like you.” His nervousness was showing as he yanked his arm back down and curled into to himself like a child. You jumped into action so you wouldn’t upset him any more and shook his shoulder as you whined, partially from exhaustion and from missing the chance to sleep next to him.

“I’m tired, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize what you were asking. Come on, open up. Let me in.” You continued to shake at his shoulder until he looked back at you. He looked wrecked from drinking all night and you knew this bout of sobriety wouldn’t be as easy on him in the morning but you were sure he looked holy.

Sherlock reluctantly brought his arm up again and you wasted no time sliding under the sheet and tucking yourself under the crook of his arm. He smelled like beer and mouthwash and Sherlock and you thought you were going to go into cardiac arrest when he brought his arm back down on you, subsequently pinning you down to him. It was definitely a tight fit especially since the couch barely fit Sherlock but you had decided that if you had the opportunity to sleep with him like this every night that you would. Back pain be damned.

The steadiness of his heartbeat was already working you back to sleep. Sighing content, you let your body fully relax and sink further into him.

“You never answered my question.” He shifted next to you and kept you close to him all the same, his head leaning to rest on yours.

“Hmm?” You made an incoherent sound, your breath evening out as you fell asleep.

“My question,” he whispered more so to himself as he worked it out in his head. The feelings he found himself harboring for you were ones he had never felt before. He thought so highly of you in a way he couldn’t understand even if he wasn’t the best at expressing it. You were patient with him when he got on your last nerve and was amazed by him when other people would tell him to piss off. You were always kind and warm and made him feel human even after he spent so long separating himself from his feelings. He couldn’t stand the idea of you looking at anyone else the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

So yes, he thought. Yes, he would love you in the morning. He’d love you when you’re angry with him for putting himself at risk during a case and he’d love you when you were overly tired and petulant after he made you stay up all night to keep him company in the lab. He loved that you valued him regardless of what he offered you, and that you always showed him that even if he never reciprocated it. You were never embarrassed by him, you always tried to learn about what he was interested in, and you never doubted him even when he was wrong.

Girlfriends weren’t naturally his area... but he didn’t think he would mind if it was you. He liked being close to you and physical touch wasn’t something he had sought out often before. He found that he chased the opportunity to be near you at all times. He thought you looked lovely in scrubs and a lab coat and even lovelier in your everyday wear, even if you considered it plain. He had begun to notice the way other people stared at you when you walked by and it left him with the most unsettling feeling. But then you’d smile at him and despite himself he’d smile right back and he wondered if anything in the world mattered to you besides him. Because in those moments, nothing mattered to him besides you.

Sherlock woke up alone again the next morning with the worst headache he’d ever had. Light was shining through the curtains and he cursed the sun for rising another day as he covered his eyes and groaned. Peaking through his fingers, he saw that the Advil and water had been moved to the coffee table for him and when he reached out for it he noticed the note on the table. He sat up with one hand gingerly holding his head as he read it.

“Got called into work to help the girls. John and Mary are coming over for lunch, so text me what you want me to bring home. We can’t serve our best friends buttered thumbs for lunch. I’ll see you soon!

-Y/N xx”

He held the note in his hand, contemplating what his next move would be. You were interested in him, that he knew for sure. He’d contemplated casually mentioning to everyone that you were dating, but he technically hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend and you two had never talked about any mutual feelings. Maybe he’d kiss you when walking you to your taxi, but he knew he’d make you stay with him instead of letting you go home. Possibly tonight when you were laying in his bed he’d tell you it had to be you, it could only ever be you.

Leaning back against the couch, he rubbed at his eyes and decided he’d call John over early and he’d help him sort it out. John always helped him. Standing up was harder than it looked apparently, as Sherlock wobbled to the side and fought the urge to puke. Perhaps he should shower first, surely you wouldn’t say yes to being his if he didn’t look his best.

He remembered how he looked and acted last night and winced. On second thought, maybe you would. You had already given yourself to him for better or for worse and soon enough, he smiled, he would give you himself in return.

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charliedawn · 4 years ago

Text

Marvel x Chubbyreader imagine

Imagine going shopping and one of the employees/customers bodyshaming you.

You find a cute dress and try it on. You get out of the dressing room and Tony's awestruck expression is enough for you to beam with pride.

" What do you think ?"

For once, Tony remains silent and only takes out his credit card as an answer.

" I'm buying this dress, and there's nothing you can do about it."

You giggle, but then someone's nasty comment makes it's way in your ear.

" Look at all that fat, it even moves when she laughs. It's disgusting. Nobody wants to see that.."

Tony stops dead in his tracks and turns towards the man with a fake smile before simply stating.

" You're fired."

The employee only laughs mockingly before replying confidently.

" I don't even work for you."

But, Tony walks to him and stares right at him with a death stare.

" I don't care, a**h*le. I buy the shop, thereby I become your boss and fire you. Now, get out of my sight before I pulverize your a**."

The employee doesn't say anything else and just walks away, not before glancing one last time at you with hatred. Tony wraps his arm around you defensively until he is definitely gone. However, the damage has been done and you finally utter weakly.

" M..Maybe I should just put the dress back.."

But, Tony doesn't let go and whispers in your ear in an hungry tone.

" Don't you dare.."

He then pays for the dress and as soon as you're in the car, he kisses you with such passion that it takes your breath away.

" Home ?"

You ask and he nods before replying in agreement.

" Home."

You already knew that Bucky was handsome..But, that didn't mean that it hurt less when people made comments about it. You spot a beautiful dress and the employee quickly takes out the dress with a huge smile.

" Here you go ! I'm sure you'll be perfect in it !"

You smile happily and nod before entering the dressing room. However, you don't even have to time to get out that you hear the same employee talking to one of the other customers.

" Oh my God ! Did you see that ?! It's a shame to let oneself go this far ! They look like a freaking mammoth in a dress. If she is like this..I can only imagine the man accompanying her !"

You don't dare get out as they start laughing together. You feel tears in your eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. However, the door of your dressing room opens and Bucky gets in, worried since you seemed to be taking a long time. The moment his eyes land on you, he finds you gorgeous in the dress and promises himself to buy it. But then, he sees you face and crouches in front of you with a worried expression.

" What happened ?"

You don't have to answer as the employee outside makes her voice heard again.

" Are you finished, miss ? Or do you have some trouble putting it on ? Do you want a bigger size ?"

He automatically understands and clenches his jaw, glaring at the door before looking back at you with a small smile.

" Did you hear that doll ? Sounded like a death wish to me.."

He takes your hand and kicks the door open, shocking the woman that falls on her butt and looks up at the you with a glare, not noticing Bucky standing behind you.

" Watch where you're going, you big ugly..!"

She doesn't have the time to finish her sentence as Bucky steps out and crouches in front of her to take her by the jaw harshly.

" Next time you even look at her with anything else than admiration or respect, I will make sure that you can't look at all..Understood ?"

The woman only nods in agreement and Bucky stands up, satisfied. He takes you by the waist and leaves the shop after having paid for the dress. You arrive in the parking and Bucky opens the door of his car for you.

" Now, let's go dancing..Okay ?"

Bucky asks and, when you don't answer, he turns around to see you with a frown on your face.

" Are you sure we should still go on that date ? People will still look at us and I think it would maybe be better if..Mmmmppphhh !"

You don't have the time to finish your sentence that he pins you to a nearby wall and kisses you with his hand wrapped around your throat.

" Now, I will only accept two answers from you. Dancing or kissing ? Your choice."

You smile and kiss him hungrily again. Looks like the choice is made.

" Yuck..Look at those stretch marks. They should go cover all of that up.."

Sam can't believe what he is hearing and looks at the man with anger radiating from him. You want to say that it's fine, but Sam doesn't give up and glares at the man while trying to remain calm.

" Man, shut the hell up. She is perfect in every way and there is nothing, absolutely nothing, wrong with having tiger stripes. It just means that if you were in the wild, they would be the one surving.."

You have tears in your eyes at his beautiful metaphor, but the man only laughs mockingly while eyeing you up and down.

" If the tiger is as slow and overfed as this one, won't be a problem outrunning it.."

Sam walks towards the employee and stands just in front of him before replying.

" That's where you're wrong..because this tiger is always accompanied by a falcon that will not hesitate before ripping the eyes of its prey.."

He doesn't understand until Sam punches him straight in the nose. The man whimpers in pain on the floor while Sam doesn't wait before grabbing your hand and stepping over the whimpering man.

" Come on, tiger..Let's go home.."

Vision was clearly excited when you asked him if he wanted to go shopping with you. He was starting to worry about you as you hadn't come out of your room for a while. When you both arrive, your eyes immediately see a very interesting dress that you want to try automatically. It calls you and you drag Vision along as he looks at you with a wide smile, happy to see you so happy. You take the dress and try it on. However, when you get out, you didn't plan on another person being there.

" Oh my God ! You're going to damage the dress ! Take it off !"

The man nearly shrieks and Vision frowns up at the man.

" What do you mean ? You think the dress isn't a good fit ?"

The man sneers in disdain before lookin at you with clear disgust written all over his features.

" No..SHE's not a good fit for the dress.."

Vision's eyes widen perceptibly and you can see his fingers digging into the arms of the chair. However, he still succeeds in remaining calm and answers with cold smile.

" Oh, I see..Apologies my good sir, I thought you were just mistaking, but I can see now that you're just a moron."

The man is shocked and gapes at the insult like a fish out of water.

" What did you call me ?!"

He finally shouts in indignation, but Vision, far from being intimidated, only continues to smile falsely before repeating.

" A moron. Should I repeat it again, sir ? Are you perhaps deaf ?"

The man becomes as red as a tomato and wants to slap Vision that only takes a step to the side. In an instant, he restrains the man on the floor and, in his usual polite smile, says.

" Now, the lady here is doing her best to manage her insecurities. It took weeks for me to reassure her that she is perfectly fine, and you ? You just destroyed all of my efforts with one sentence."

He is about to break the man's arm when you gently run your hand on his back soothingly. He seems to remember where he is and gets up in an instant. He then takes you by the hand to pay for the dress and get out of the shop. You wait until you are in the parking lot before stopping and making him look at you. He seems as upset as you and you try to calm him down by gently kissing him on the lips.

" Sorry..He just was so mean to you and I.."

You kiss him again and he finally melts into the kiss.

" Never say sorry for acting heroically..You acted amazing out there.."

He smiles proudly before picking you up.

" Vision ! What are you doing ?!"

You exclaim before he answers with a small smile.

" I'm taking my wife home."

He then takes back his original form and flies up in the air.

" Miss, I need you to step out of the dress. There is the scale on your right, we don't accept anything outside of size Medium in here."

You are about to reply when Scott suddenly stands up and glares at the salesman.

" No one. Tells. My. Wife. That. She. Looks. Fat."

Scott would normally go with the pacifist approach, but when it comes to directly insulting you about the thing that you're most insecure about ? Get prepared for full-on mad Scott. He will make a scene. He will physically attack the employee. It will take you to physically restrain him from scratching the man too much. He will ask to talk to his boss and will not go without a sincere apology. Don't mess with angry Scott.

" Get up ! Come on ! I'm not finished with you !"

He wouldn't say anything because you told him that you didn't want him to kill anyone again. But give him the chance ? And he would take the man's tongue and cut it so he may never speak again.

" Come on, let's go, Loki..The dress is not that important anyway.."

You take his hand and try to gently guide him outside of the dressing lounge. But, the employee adds before you could avoid any more problems.

" Yeah..The dress would be wasted on you anyway.."

This is the last straw. He turns towards the man with a dagger in hand and threatens him by putting it against his throat.

" One more word, and I will skin you like the pitiful human scum that you are ! Now, address one more time to my future wife with this sort of disgusting behavior, and your may find a thousand snakes hidden in your bed."

You drag him outside, grabbing your clothes and paying quickly. Loki frowns, upset at the fact that you didn't let him finish. You run out and it's only when you're in the car that you turn towards Loki with tears in your eyes.

" Loki. One more complaint and they will throw you in a cell again. Is that really what you want ?! Don't make idiots the reason we are separated again.."

He understands your concern and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb before kissing your forehead.

" Never..I just don't like how people treat you around here. It's so unusual. In Asgard, we don't care about the size, we care about how a woman fights. Here, you are called weak by strangers, and when you try to defend yourself, you are blamed. It just doesn't make any sense.."

You laugh at his perplexity before answering him with a kiss on the cheek.

" Never change, Loki.."

Sometimes, when you're alone like this, Loki seems almost innocent. He hasn't been shaped to understand human flaws, he even has trouble understanding why. But, this is why you love him.

" Hey, fata**! Move out of the way ! You are blocking my view !"

A customer yells at you as you just got out of the dressing room. She tries to get in, but Stephen only arks an eyebrow and uses his time stone on her.

" W..Where..?"

She stammers and Stephen quickly answers.

" You are in my realm. I was just checking if you are relevant in any dimension or time-line..Guess what ? You are not. I could send you to another planet and nobody would come looking for you. Now, do I make myself clear when I say to never speak so rudely to anyone again, and especially not her ?"

The woman nods her head vividly and Stephen smiles before making them both come back to reality. The customer looks shocked for a moment, but she only humphs and walks away. You look at him with an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

" Stephen..What did you do ?"

You ask, but he only smiles innocently at you.

" Nothing, dear. Just had to get some things done..By the way, this dress is lovely. I'll pay for it."

You quickly nod and get back in the dressing room. However, you can't seem to be able to open the back zip and finally ask for Stephen's help. He wants to act casual, but is still nervous when you ask for his help..He still enters and pulls the zip down, marveling on the exposed skin of your back in the process. He slowly runs his fingers up and down your back before kissing your neck shortly and getting out. You still smile. At least, you had your approval on the dress..

The moment you enter, everybody stares at you, Thor had insisted on coming with you in his mighty armor and you just knew it would attract many eyes..and the comments didn't take long to arrive..

" Did you see that ?! How did she manage to pull him off ?! I mean..Why her ?! It's surprising."

You hide behind Thor in shame and he quickly notices why. He approaches the man and leans in front of him with a fake smile.

" Is it though ?"

The employee seems taken aback and takes a moment to answer.

" What ?"

" Surprising ? Is it normal for humans to act in such a way when they have flaws themselves ? I mean, your brain is the size of a poptart, and you don't see me complaining about it now, do I ? I don't think you're even worthy of gazing upon her. She's a queen. A woman who has been by my side from the beginning to the end and who never left my side, even when death was upon us. Would you have done the same ? What are you compared to her ?"

Both you and the employee are shocked by Thor's words and he then takes you by the waist to kiss you in front of everyone, even going as far as squeezing your hips. You blush vividly, but he then takes a step back and looks around before shouting for everyone to hear while pointing you with his index.

" This is my woman ! She is just the way I want her and if everyone has a problem with that, he can come and talk to me !"

That quickly shuts everyone up and he then takes your hand, having spotted a very gorgeous red dress that he just knows would look good on you..or off you. 😏😂

Thor can be very confused about many human things, but he knows when something is wrong with his human and will do everything to make you feel better.

He wouldn't say anything, but as soon as your home..He would take his arrows and bow.

" Where are you going ?"

" Out."

He would simply reply and you already know that if you let him go, the employee will be psychologically scarred for the rest of his life..You post yourself in front of the door and refuse to let him pass.

" Come on, darling. Move. I just wanna talk to him..I just wanna talk to him.."

He would try to reassure you, but then, he would remember how ashamed you seemed when buying said dress. His mindset completely shifts to murderous mode as he tries to get past you.

" I just wanna kill him..I just wanna kill him.."

You wrap your arms around his waist and refuse to move.

" Come on ! You're stronger than this, my love ! Don't do it !"

He finally sighs in defeat before nodding in agreement. However, he takes you by the arms for you to get up and gently kisses you.

" I would do anything for you..Okay ?"

You smile and nod, knowing that he means it.

" I know.."

" Hey there.."

You try to ignore the woman openly flirting with your boyfriend, but it's hard when she whispers something in his ear. Something that makes him cross his arms and frown.

" I'm sorry ?"

He says, apparently confused and the woman only giggles before wrapping her arms around his arm.

" You heard me cutie, come with me and leave the pig behind.."

You nearly choke on your own saliva as she repeats high enough for you to hear..You turn around and see an angry Steve that suddenly gets up and glares down at the woman.

" Oh no..You misunderstood. I was genuinely sorry for the fact that no amount of make-up will ever be able to cover your mean heart. Now, leave us Regina George, before I decide to make you leave."

The woman's eyes widen and she turns around with a loud dramatic humph. In an instant, Steve is by your side and covers your face with kisses.

" Don't listen to her. She isn't worth it..And her perfume was just horrible, I need to wash it off when we get home."

You smile with tears in your eyes, reassured and extremely grateful for having such a perfect man in your life..

" Wait..How do you know Mean Girls ?"

You suddenly inquire as you remember that the movie only got out a few years ago..He smiles before blushing almost embarrassingly. He then admits while massaging the back of his neck with his hand nervously.

" I decided to culture myself..And I also heard Hawkeye talk about how his girl has been going crazy over that movie..So, I decided to check it out.."

Your eyes widen at the information and you smile almost mischievously.

" This is actually very "unlike" you, Rogers..Listening on doors..Are you turning to the Dark Side of the Force ?"

He looks back at you with an arked eyebrow, visibly confused and you sigh loudly.

" Oh come on ! Star Wars ! Don't tell me you've watched Mean Girls but never heard about Star Wars ! "

He only shrugs and you suddenly take him by the arm to drag him towards the exit.

" B..But the dress ?!"

He exclaims and you only reply with a slight grin.

" The dress can wait. We've got other very important matters to intend to !"

He suddenly gets out of your grip to run to get the dress and pay for it before coming back to you. He then grabs your hand with a huge smile.

" Now, we can go."

#fandoms #imagine #marvel #scott lang #scott lang x reader #captain america x reader #iron man x reader #vision x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #hawkeye x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #doctor strange x reader

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barnes-n-nobles · 4 years ago

Text

Youre My Path (SMUT)

Yandere Bucky being crazy, possessive, and DARK!

TW-Mentions on non-con, drugging, stalking, and overall dark behavior. A little bit of knife play as well.

Smut SMUT SMUT

Let me know what y’all think

Today was just another boring ordinary day. You had to go to the store and stock up on some groceries that you had been planning on getting but you lacked the will power to do so. You opened your phone and looked at the time. Ugh, I need to go before they close you thought to yourself as you managed to peel yourself off of your comfy sofa. You got ready and headed towards the nearest super market.

Lately youve been having some weird feelings, as if someone is constantly watching you. You always shake it off though, because nothing ever happens to you. You always get home safe and sound. Today was a little more intense though, as if you could almost hear someone breathing behind you when you were walking to the store. Relieved to have made it inside, you grabbed your cart and started your trip through the empty isles of the store. You loved and hated to come at night, it made you feel at peace knowing there there wouldn’t be annoying ass kids and angry moms yelling at them to behave. No people blocking the isles with their carts and most importantly, no need to run into someone you knew. The only reason you hated it, was because you didn’t want to get kidnapped and left for dead.

As you made your way to the bread isle, you had that feeling again. You felt like someone was behind you, you stopped dead in your tracks to see if anyone would walk past you. You pretended to look at the merchandise and you slowly turned around to see if there was anyone there. You looked both ways, and sure enough there was nothing. You rolled your eyes and kept it moving. As your trip started coming to an end you decided to stop by the makeup isle, needing a couple of items that you would use for your upcoming date.

Usually you didn’t try this hard but you figured you would give it a shot. All the past times you went on dates they would disappear after your first date. You weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t try hard enough or if they simply weren’t feeling your vibe. As your mind trailed off you accidentally ran into another person with your cart, completely snapping you out of your mind. A broad man, fell to his knee. “Oh my god!!! I’m so sorry. Are you ok? God I’m so clumsy please forgive me” you said frantically as you started to help him up. He lifted his head up to meet your gaze, big blue eyes % bore%% into your own. Your eyes started to trail from his eyes, to his lips, and up again to his perfectly sculpted face. You were mesmerized, you had never seen such a handsome man. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it, y/n” he said quickly getting up and walking off with a visible smirk on his face. You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, knowing damn well he did not just say your name. You werent exactly sure if your mind was playing tricks on you or if he really said what you think he had said. You got up quickly, still in shock but hoping that it was really your mind playing tricks on you. Hesitantly you continued to shop, even though there was a little voice in your head telling you to get the hell out of that store.

Bucky POV

FUCK she’s so beautiful, he thought to himself. The way you stared at him, it was clear you wanted him the way he wanted you. This was the moment that he had been waiting for ever since he laid eyes on you. He had never been this close to you, it was like a dream come true. You smelled like candy, your beautiful e/c eyes meeting his. Just how he had imagined but better. The way you apologized made him hard. Just think of how submissive my y/n will be to me mmmm I’m going to devour her in every way possible he thought to himself, smirking.

Bucky ran into you at a coffee shop near your house. It was love at first sight for him. He watched you interact with your friends, smile, laugh, and it was like a match made in heaven for him. He knew he needed you to smile for him, laugh for him, and live for him. He followed you home that night. Making sure you wanted to be safe, of course. But his monthly visits turned to weekly and then turned to daily. He eventually managed to get into your home. You left a space key under your mat, and he felt so happy yet disappointed that you would endanger yourself like that. “When we live together, I’ll make sure you don’t make silly mistakes like this” he said to himself as he got into your home.

He went through your house just browsing, seeing if anything interesting caught his eye. He then made it into your room and continued to look through your things. He found your panties next to your bed and quickly grabbed them and put him in his picked for him to enjoy later. He also took some pictures of you, to also enjoy later.

You were his new routine and he enjoyed every second of it. As time went on he would keep tabs on you, absolutely hating it when you went on dates. He was consumed with jealousy and couldn’t believe anyone would dare lay a finger on you. He knew that this would not fly and he had to make sure to get rid of any roadblocks that got in his way. Bucky murdered them and everytime he did he felt relieved, almost happy knowing that he was that much closer to you.

After his encounter with you, Bucky walked off into the parking lot, one car over from yours, slipping into the drivers seat. His mind started to go wild. He needed you so badly. He wished he could have taken you right then and there. How he wished he could be inside you, your soft moans begging him to make you feel good. His cock soon started to throb at the thought of you. He leaned back in his seat taking a pair of your panties out from his pocket. He brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply, moaning as he exhaled. “Fuck Y/n...you make me so horny...I’m going to fuck the shit out of you when you’re here baby just you wait”.

Wasnt long before he pulled out his dick, stroking it hard. His hips bucking into his hand wishing it was your pussy. He started to think about how beautiful your pretty mouth would be around his dick, how good your tongue would feel swiveling around his tip. Just as he was about to cum, he stopped. He growled and threw his head back lowly moaning your name. “Fuck...I cant take this anymore. I need her” He quickly tucked himself back in and relaxed.

All you could think about was how that guy knew your name. It kept replaying in your head and it didn’t make sense. You headed to your car and started to load everything in. “Hello my Y/n” you heard someone say in a low deep voice. You quickly turned around, your heart starting to beat a little faster. “Umm. Do I know you?” You asked. Bucky sighed and started to walk towards you. “Not yet doll but you will” a smirk on his face once again. You backed up as he took steps forward. “Don’t come any closer, or I’m calling the police”.

Bucky pressed himself against your body, his hands snaking their way to your hips. His face now pressed against your neck. “No you wont Princess, I know you like this. I can tell by the way that you’re breathing that you want me to keep going” his low voice going straight to your core. “N-no please...stop I ..” you tried pushing him off but you started to feel so weak. You had not noticed that Bucky had used something to drug you. All you felt was your body going limp and you falling into his arms.

Bucky smiled as you fell into him, placing a soft kiss on your temple. He noticed that someone was coming over so he quickly pressed your body to your car, and grabbed your face, kissing you. The person walking, walked a little faster as they were feeling a little awkward. Perfect he thought to himself. He placed you into the back to his car, resting your head to a pillow he had just bought and covering you with his sweater. He quickly drove off, leaving all your things by your car.

Your eyes opened, your head pounding. Wherever you were it was dark but comfortable. You groaned as you started to fully wake up, slowly sitting up. Your left hand felt heavy, you tried pulling it and you heard a chain. You yanked your hand hard again, making a loud sound. Bucky heard the noise coming from your guy’s room and he smiled and quickly got up making his way to you.

“Baby you’re awake now” Bucky excitedly said

“What’s going on..why are you doing this to me, where am I?”

“You’re home doll, with me”

“But I don’t know you” you cried softly

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. I’ve been looking after you for a while now and it’s been a pleasure but I'm so glad that I finally have you all to myself, just how it was always meant to be”

He started to get on the bed climbing towards you. You backed up as he came towards you, your back was now against the wall, pinning yourself between the cold wall and his broad body. His hand going to the back of your neck, bringing you close to him, your lips almost touching his.

“I’ve waited a life time for this, to have you here with me. You make me crazy and I would sacrifice the world for you. Now that you’re all mine, I won’t ever loose you” he closed the gap between you two, his lips desperately locking into yours. Kissing you passionately, he was hungry and desperate. You turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss.

“This isn’t the way Bucky, this isn’t right. You need to let me go” you begged. Bucky smiled and looked down moving back away from you. It made you feel relieved that he was not too mad due to your actions. He slowly got up from the bed and went over to his dresser, rummaging through some things.

“Bucky...maybe we are in different paths right now, maybe in the future we will be together but now right now, not like this...please Bucky listen to me”, hoping that he would have a little sympathy, you used his name to make it more personal.

“You know , y/n...just because you say we are on different paths doesn’t mean it’s true” he grabbed something and started to walk towards you again. This time his metal arm reached out to pull you by your leg to the edge of the bed, giving you whiplash. He quickly climbed on top of you, pinning your arms above your head with his metal arm and pulling out a syringe with his other hand.

You quickly started to wiggle around trying to get him off you. Shaking your head, “no no please stop no”. Buckys eyes had a hint of madness to them, dark and disturbing. “Don’t worry these don’t hurt, it will make you feel better I promise”. He quickly injected it to you and you soon started to feel get hot, with a tingling sensation “This will loosen you up a bit, it’ll make you relax so that we can enjoy eachother baby”

His lips made their way onto your neck, kissing and licking you all over. Your heart started to race, your eyes closing, soft moans escaping your lips, “n-no..” Bucky grunted as his erection started to press against your clothed pussy. His hips bucking forward, dry humping you. He lowered down to your ear, whispering, “ cant you see what you do to me. You’re so sexy and sensual you’re almost making me cum in my pants with your adorable moans, my love. As much as love to hear you right now, I want you to moan and scream my name y/n...begging me to fuck you harder”

All his words, combined with his dry humping made you soaking wet. As much as you hated this you couldn’t help but moan louder. His cock pressing against you was not enough and you needed more. You tried your hardest to resist, “G-get a..way f-from me..” you managed to choke out, trying to not moan anymore and trying to push him off with your body. Suddenly Bucky got angry. Hating how you were fighting him. He tore off your thin leggings in a fast single motion, revealing your soaked panties. He took out his knife and pressed it against you, earning a frantic gasp but you stopped moving. “Stop fighting me doll, for your own good because I swear I will fucking destroy you. I’ve waited too long for this, don’t push me because you won’t like the way I punish you.But......if you behave I’ll make sure to take care of you..real good care darling” he said as his knife traced your body. He grabbed your shirt roughly and ripped it off, slicing your bra open as well.

His mouth watered at the sight of your delicious breasts, making his cock twitch with excitement. His knife trailed down to your panties, making you whimper. “You’re so delicious kitten, I’m going to fuck you so hard. I cant wait till my cock is right in here” he motioned and tapped your clit with his knife. He roughly grabbed them and ripped them open instantly. He threw his knife to the side and quickly started to rub your clit making your back arch with your eyes closed. Your moans now filling up the room. Bucky smiled and took one of your nipples into his mouth, making you quiver and move your hips down into his hand. “Mmm, I knew you wanted this..wanted me...only me” he growled against your chest. “F-fuck Bucky...keep going please”. You hated yourself for saying that but you couldn’t help it, you were in pure ecstasy.

Just as you were about to reach your orgasm, he removed himself from you. Making you whine and buck your hips up, wanting and needing his touch once again. “Don’t worry kitten, I’m not done with you yet”. He quickly undressed and positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing his tip on your clit, making you mewl. “Tell me what you want doll...tell me what you want from me” he coaxed. You didn’t answer, as you were too embarrassed to say anything. His metal hand went to your neck, squeezing it hard. “Tell me y/n..tell me what you want NOW” he yelled, releasing his grip from your throat.

“Fuck me Bucky...please” you finally said. “I don’t think I heard you doll, say it loud and clear”. “FUCK ME BUCKY PLEASE I NEED YOU...PLEASE”. You finally broke. You needed him now, there was nothing in the world you wanted more than to have his cock inside of you, his lips on your skin and his hands all over you. You were finally filled with his big cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy. His hands on your neck, choking you but not too hard like before. His hips snapping in and out of you making your body shake.

“Such an obedient slut, MY obedient slut. I’m going to break you and bend you to my will. Making you all mine. I’ll make you crave my touch, my attention, my voice. You’re going to live only for me, doll. Only for me” he growled as he pounded into you, rubbing your clit making you loose it. He then started to feel you reach your end, making him moan, “cum on my dick baby...cum for me. Let go” he cooed as he angled himself to reach into you deeper. That’s when you felt your orgasm hit you, your body started to shake, waves of pleasure surging through your body. “Mmm Buckyyyy” you moaned. Making him loose it as well, he coated your insides in his thick warm cum. Pumping himself in and out slowly. Gasping for air.

Fuck he was such a God, he made you want more of him. It was the first night and you were already going crazy for his touch. You wanted him to keep going keep doing you however he wanted, but most importantly to keep pleasuring you. Bucky finally pulled out and laid next to you, looking at your beautiful face. He brought his lips to yours and gave you a soft kiss. “The drug hasn’t worn off baby, don’t think this is over. We’re going until we cant no more, doll.” He said against your lips, flipping you over for round two.

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madamedevien · 4 years ago

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Infernal Heat

Hey! It’s been a while - I really miss you guys. Anyway, I know that a lot of you were keeping up to date with my Mammon x GN! Reader fic...while I’m updating it regularly on my AO3, I thought that I’d post the chapters that I’ve got here as well. I’m planning for it to be a 4 chapter fic, but let’s see how that goes! Warnings in tags (both here and AO3) - monster fucking comes into play much more come Chapter 3 and 4. The biggest thanks to @mawwart for their inspiration and @popcherrypop for reading over what I had all those months ago and actually helping me find direction. I’ve got a bigger/cheesier spiel on AO3, but anyway. Fingers crossed that the ‘Keep Reading’ line shows up here...

Chapter 1: Embers

The Great Mammon had woken up in a mood. He'd felt this creeping up for days now and he wished that it would just come and go already. It was hella distracting to have a constant tug of warmth and want in your gut, y'know? And it was annoying to feel the incessant need to primp and to add to the nest of pillows, blankets, sentimental and decorative items that now overtook most of his bed. But he was due a heat cycle. Annoyingly, he felt that it was probably going to settle in properly on that particular day and he'd been wrangled into going shopping by you. And for whatever reason he'd agreed. Not because he had a crush on you or anything. Damn, he couldn't even remember what you two were meant to be shopping for, that's how addled his mind was. Mammon really just wanted to stay put and perfect his nest. Maybe show it off to you. Although he wasn't sure if you'd appreciate the fact that he'd stolen a few items of yours while on laundry duty to tuck into said nest. Or that he wanted to maybe do something kind of nasty to a piece of your clothing. If not you.

But would you want to? To see his nest? To lay in it, lay with him, to mate with him? He wanted you to. So very, very badly. He didn’t feel like he deserved you but, oh, to say that he wanted you was a vast understatement. Fuck.

He groaned and threw one of his tanned arms over his eyes. The silveret realised that he was going to have to partially dislodge his beautiful nest to pull out Goldie (he couldn't go shopping without her - the very thought was offensive!) and that he was going to have to get rid of his raging boner before he faced you.

So into a cold shower he trudged, loudly cursing the whole time.

---

Longest shopping trip in fucking history.

It seemed like you were in need of freakin' everything imaginable. He wasn't to know that you were actually just taking your time because it'd been a while since the two of you had some time to yourselves. The demon had been acting strangely around you the past few days, although he was completely oblivious to just how weird it’d been for you.

And today, the Avatar of Greed just wasn't engaging. Questions went unanswered, as if he hadn't heard even when clearly looking at you, no boasting or sulking occurred, no bets or harebrained schemes hatched...he didn't even take you up on your offer of Hell Sauce Noodles! The demon was completely disinterested in all of this - the only thing he was interested in was you. He was also trying very very hard not to let his thoughts slip into anything inappropriate. Which was probably the single most difficult thing he’d had to do in all of his many years. Mammon wanted to take your hand and lace your fingers together; to shamelessly nuzzle your cheek in front of everyone on Silent Avenue. The thought made his heart swell. Better yet, if you were mated, he could kiss you in front of the whole crowd before publicly mounting you and-

Damn, it was hard to keep lewd thoughts at bay. He could feel his cheeks burning and looked away when your concerned expression turned to him.

On the trek home (finally!), he fell into a lazy pace behind you and Mammon couldn’t help it as you walked together. His cerulean gaze raked over the beautiful curve in your neck - the space was perfect. In his mind, he could see how perfectly his head would fit and how the mark he could leave there would only accentuate the beauty of your skin. It’d be a gorgeous brand that would loudly proclaim to all, ‘I am mated to THE Great Mammon, the Avatar of Greed and Second of the Seven; don’t you dare even think to touch me’. The very notion only caused the flush of heat over his skin to worsen and his breath to hitch; he wanted to tear into his flesh to relieve himself of the insufferable and fiery itch.

The same thoughts washed over his brain again and again like some cruel tide, even once you'd passed through the doors of the House of Lamentation.

It took only a scant moment. He didn’t even think. The silver haired demon was aware that he was losing his mind due to his damned biology, but he didn’t realise that he was so far gone that he would do something so stupid. It was only your screech that alerted him to the fact that he had pulled you tight to his chest, that he was actually in the process of sinking sharp fangs into your supple skin. The sudden realisation made him tear off of you in surprise.

Beel had been the first to burst through a doorway and into the corridor. The redhead stopped dead in his tracks and stared wide-eyed at the two of you; you with your hand clamped over the section of your neck that had been bitten, and Mammon an arm’s length away from with a look of abject horror painted over his handsome features. Stupid Mammon, indeed. The next to burst in was Lucifer, who looked ready for a proper melee. The sound that had come from you had genuinely startled the older brother, not that he’d admit that if asked. As his garnet gaze took in the scene before him, his mouth twisted unpleasantly. “Mammon…” Lucifer’s voice was dangerously low. Mammon shook his head urgently in response, “Nonono, Luci, it didn’t - I mean, yeah, it is what it looks like an’ I didn’t mean ta, but it...it’s not deep enough. Y’know?” The second brother sounded desperate. Mammon anxiously twisted his rings around his tanned fingers and had to fight back the tears that threatened the edges of his vision. He could have hurt you. “Oh, I think you’ll find that it’s more than deep enough.” Lucifer stalked toward you and put his hand on top of the one you were using to cover your wound. “Let me see how much damage the fool inflicted on you”. Mammon could see the frown that pulled at your mouth as you revealed the bite mark to his brother. No proper damage - the indents might linger, but no blood had been drawn; no skin had been broken.

“It was more from the surprise than pain, Lucifer. I just wasn’t expecting someone to bite me, you know? That’s the kind of thing that I’d expect more from a very hungry Beel.” Your attempt to lighten the mood only made the Avatar of Pride’s expression sour further - but Beel muttered a small, “Fair”. Lucifer sounded positively glacial when he spoke again. “Beelzebub, please take our brother to his room." The Avatar of Gluttony nodded solemnly, gently taking the second eldest’s shoulder. Mammon stared miserably at the floor, guilt clearly written on his flushed face although he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He didn’t trust himself to. Not after such a stupid stunt. As the other two made their way up the stairs, Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose.

This wouldn’t be pleasant.

It was no surprise to Mammon that Lucifer texted him shortly after the whole ordeal. He was just thankful that Lucifer hadn’t decided to come up to his room and literally tear into him after biting you. Of all the people to bite in the entire Devildom, it just had to be you didn’t it? Lucifer: Mammon. I have strictly instructed the household that you are not to be disturbed until I have given the all clear. You will stay in your room and I will bring you provisions at regular intervals. If you need anything, you will let me know. Are we clear? Mammon: Yes. Lucifer: Good. He waited, hopeful that Lucifer would provide an update on you. After an eon of waiting (which was actually all of seven minutes) he decided to ask. Mammon: Are they okay?

Lucifer: They are. And they will continue to be so long as you stay in your room and do not venture out. Ensure that you lock your door and remember to take your pheromone blockers as well or the whole house will reek of your mating scent. What were brothers for, if not a good motivational speech? --- Chapter 2: Flames Even with Lucifer’s reminder, Mammon had forgotten to take the pheromone blockers and to lock the door. He’d been far too distracted; worrying about your state of health, whether he’d damaged your relationship beyond repair, still trying to keep the lewd thoughts at bay, his instincts fretting over the piece of nest that had been dismantled earlier… It was a lot to be preoccupied with, okay? Without the pheromone blockers, the corridor outside of Mammon’s room was thick with the sweet perfume of a demonic male in heat. It was rich and cloying, the kind of scent that would cling to one’s clothes much to the annoyance of the other residents (Asmodeus excluded). Mammon, however, didn’t care. He was too busy now attempting to cool the heat in the pit of his stomach and to regain some clarity of mind. An attempt at sleep had been made once his nest had been repaired and Goldie tucked into her rightful place, the lights turned down low and his clothes discarded to some far corner so that he could crawl into the nest in a comfortable state...but how could he sleep when obscene images of you kept popping into his head? At first, he had tried to keep some semblance of his mind. The demon didn’t like to lose control during his heats. If he could keep his mind, he would keep to his more humanoid forms - and that was what he wanted. Because if you did, by chance, happen upon him...well. He didn’t want to scare you. Before he allowed himself to spiral into the anxiety of your imagined reaction, he reached for his ridiculously large bottle of lube. If he was going to dwell on the thought of anything, it was going to be how good he knew you’d feel… --- Mammon wouldn’t have been able to say how much time had passed. He had brought himself to orgasm more times than he could count - but it only seemed to just take off the edge. A demon’s heat was never an easy thing, but why was this time around so damn difficult? Satan would have been able to answer that with ease, the smug bastard; if a demon chooses a mate they will, naturally, be most inclined to couple with said mate for optimal breeding. To not couple with a chosen mate could make a heat worse - but to withhold coupling at all? Well, it would be a foolish endeavour. The Avatar of Greed hadn’t realised just how he was slipping ; wings and horns had appeared without him even registering and his fangs had dropped to a predatory length (which he only noticed when he had apparently attempted to put a mating mark on a pillow covered in one of your stolen shirts that he’d been desperately rutting against, much to his embarrassment). His breathing was rough. Mammon was equal parts exhausted and invigorated. He wanted nothing more than to let his knees fall out from under him so that sleep would hopefully take him - he wanted to stalk down the hall and into your room and fuck you senseless. And if Lucifer found out? Well, Mammon would love to see him try to pry you from his arms. The very thought made him snarl, his grip on his cock tightening. It was enraging to even think that his brother would dare, a thought that had him so preoccupied that he didn’t hear the door click open. His blue eyes slipped over to you and the wet sound of him furiously fucking his fist stopped abruptly. It was impossible to tell which one of you was redder. This was not what he had been expecting. “Uh-” A rasp of your name interrupted you. “Didn’t Lucifer tell you not to come?” He watched as you nodded dumbly, “Yes”. Heavy breath was the only noise to pass between you several beats. The demon in front of you was wondering whether this was fate; you weren’t running, you looked interested and, fuck, you smelled so good. You smelled aroused and it made him growl; “C’mere then”. The way that you slammed the door and scampered toward him practically had him preening in pleasure. Just as eager, Mammon scrambled over to meet you, flustered yet excited, and hauled you up close to him. He bumped your foreheads together. From here it was easy to see how incredibly blown his pupils were, to feel how desperately ragged his breathing was. You were dangerously close. “Now, see here, I'm gonna give ya one chance to go. ‘Cause if I kiss ya, I’m not gonna be able to stop. I won’t be able to let ya go. You’ll be stuck with me for the whole fuckin’ ride, ya hear?” Holy shit, his voice was so strained. “Then kiss me, you dummy.” No repeat was necessary. Mammon threaded his fingers into your hair, hesitating for only the briefest moment before pressing his lips to yours. When you responded in kind his fervour, his deep rooted greed, quickly followed. He’d wanted to kiss you from day one and not a moment had gone by since without him imagining it. This felt so incredibly right. But he couldn’t ignore the heat curling in his gut. He needed you, wanted you. And as far as he could tell, despite the dark whispers in the back of his mind saying otherwise, you seemed to feel the same.The way that you returned his greedy kisses, how your fingers had twisted sharply in his hair, how you didn’t seem to mind the messy clicking of his elongated fangs against your blunt teeth as he tried to figure out how best to navigate your mouth in this form - how could he deny that he was wanted? Mammon's only regret when looking back on this evening with you would be not savouring your body laid bare for him for the first time. His mind was too heat-addled to appreciate it; he was unable to slowly peel off your layers and to have the sentiment returned in kind as he had previously fantasised about. In his mind’s eye, he had a whole big romantic gesture planned if you had decided to sleep with him. Previously, he had imagined how he would make love to you and treasure every moment of it...but alas… Your clothes were quickly stripped from you, sharp fangs nipping at new skin as it was exposed. There was no delicate treatment here and he paid no heed to the sound of torn material. When he next plundered your mouth, it was far smoother than the first time - he was a fast learner, after all. The only complaint that he had about kissing you was that it muffled those beautiful noises of yours. When he broke the seal of your mouths it was to gently toss you back toward the top of the bed, deeper into his nest and into the comfort of a ridiculous amount of pillows - to properly secure you into his nest. To see you like that felt...good. It felt right. It was clear that was exactly where you belonged. The very image had him growling in satisfaction as he took the opportunity to crawl over your body, his fingers gripping at the meat of your thighs and hips as if ensuring that you were truly there with him. Thankfully, his nails had not yet turned into talons or they would have pierced through you with ease at the way that he handled your flesh. Mammon had to take a deep breath when he looked at you this time. He needed to make sure that he didn’t hurt you while doing this - it was the last thing in the world that he wanted. It was unusual for the Avatar of Greed to put the needs of others before his own...but you weren’t just some ‘other’. You were you. His very own treasure, his very own mate. Reluctantly, a hand left your body to fish for something buried within the nest. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” He coated his fingers generously in lube, desperate to ensure that he would cause as little pain as possible, “Just fuckin’ perfect”. Two fingers slipped into you as Mammon spoke, his tone low and hoarse. Never had he imagined just how difficult it would be to hold himself back like this, nor could he have been prepared for just how much desire he felt in that moment. The sensation of your hot core wrapped around his fingers had him shamelessly rutting against your thigh, a poor attempt at taking the edge off of his lust. A human really had no business wrecking him like this. His heat cycles were normally pretty boring - desperate rutting for a day or two and then back to normal life. You had no right to set his skin aflame like this, no right to have him feel like he could cum just from the noise you made once he had three fingers fucking into your heat. The way his blood was rushing in his ears was deafening...and he wanted more. It didn’t take too long for it all to get too much. Even all of the dark hickies that he had furiously littered your neck, chest and shoulders with weren’t enough to distract him from the wet sound of his fingers preparing you or the stunning sounds he managed to pull from you when he got the angle of his hand just right. Mammon would never admit it, but he kind of missed his target. The point of removing his hand from you had been to slip himself right in. Instead, as he kissed you he rolled his slick cock against your sex...which, to be fair, had felt better than your thigh. And if the sound that you’d made in response was anything to go by, you thought so too. He liked that noise. A lot. So he rolled his hips against you again, groaning in response to you. Ever eager to please, the greedy demon found a rhythm that you both seemed to enjoy in the interim. “Ya like that, huh?” Mammon wasn’t sure where the cockiness in his tone was coming from when internally he felt so nervous. It was those very nerves that quickly had his hand moving to guide his cock to your entrance and thrusting into you before you could retort. Mammon didn’t realise it would silence both of you. By no means was he a virgin. The Great Mammon would have it known that he was a proper Casanova type, thank you very much. He just didn’t realise how different it would feel coupling with someone that he truly and deeply loved. The heat causing that deep need to breed the closest thing with a pulse didn’t help things, of course. It was...incredible, for lack of a better word. Divine. Mammon choked on an Infernal curse once seated completely in you and had to literally bite his tongue to keep an anchor on his self-control. All of that hard earned control was thrown out the window when his name passed your lips. There was no hesitation in how his hips pistoned, fucking into you relentlessly. His hands manoeuvred to cradle the back of your knees and he pushed your legs back to allow him more access to your body, his fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. The noises that left him were snaps and snarls of Infernal praise, not that he realised. The only thought on Mammon’s mind was his primal objective of breeding you until neither of you could move ; it didn’t matter whether you could actually fall pregnant or not. No logic or worry clouded his mind with these thoughts. All he could focus on was filling you with his seed until he couldn’t any more, the thought of your stomach tender and round because of his affections toward his mate... Mammon’s first orgasm came with an embarrassing quickness. When he spilled inside of you, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of your chest, he was quickly filled with a relief and warmth that he hadn’t felt in ages. For the first time since his heat had set in, there was true clarity in his mind. While his natural instincts weren’t completely quelled, it was enough for him to actually think with something other than his adamantly pulsing dick. His relief quickly fell to mortification, the shadows of which were clear on his features when he pulled back to look at you. His cheeks were tinted red both from exertion and embarrassment ; he hadn’t paid enough attention to get you to climax. He was quick to stutter out your name, mouth tripping on the words that were trying to get out of his mouth as his sluggishly content brain tried to supply words just beyond reach. “What, isn’t The Great Mammon going to make me cum?” Your sass fanned the flames in his loins. A playful snarl was made in response, “Oh sweetheart. I’m going to make you cum so fuckin’ hard you black out. You won’t be able to feel your legs by the time I’m done with you”. And so The Great Mammon set to work. --- Mammon hummed contentedly as you lazily played with the hair at the nape of his neck hours later. This was perfection. Strong fingers stroked your thighs as he enjoyed the sensation of you wrapped around his hips, the pleasure of you sat on his lap while cuddled up together in your nest. The demon toyed with the thought of pushing his hips up just to make you gasp from the overstimulation, but decided against it. Although he was loath to admit it, you needed rest - because Mammon had been good to his word, ensuring that you both had more than your fair share of orgasms. But this was good. The fire in his gut had died down to crackling embers, although he knew it would flare up again soon - but you would be there to help ease him through it. And you even seemed to like helping him out. What was the phrase… ‘mutually beneficial’? Somethin’ like that. His eyes fluttered open when he heard your chuckle. He couldn’t help but wonder if you knew how freakin’ stunning you were when you smiled like that. “What?” When your eyes met his, he was pouting frowning. The laugh that you let out only made his brow furrow more, “I said what. What’s got ya laughin’ like that, huh? You should be out like a freakin’ light by now”. It wasn’t until you replied that he realised how obvious it was, “I didn’t know that demons could purr”. Mammon squawked loudly and attempted to divert your attention - he sounded like a damn motor! It wasn’t fair! He wasn’t even able to control the way he was going off… It was embarrassing. “Well, yeah, y’know, sometimes. We’re incredible ‘n mysterious creatures us demons, y’know! Demons are capable of things that your human mind couldn’t even comprehend! Anyway, ’s not like ’s all the time or anythin’ like that…” He tried to occupy himself and forget about the heat radiating from his face by playing with your hair - but he could feel you smiling against the crook of his neck. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” The incredible and mysterious demon sounded more like a petulant child (well, a purring and petulant child). “So, when do you normally purr?” “I dunno. When we’re happy, I guess?” “Does that mean I haven’t made you happy before?” The way that he spluttered was definitely worth teasing him. “Who said that ya haven’t made me happy?! ‘N besides, this is different!” Even Mammon couldn’t deny that he was now pouting, but he tried to focus on the feeling of your fingers running along his shoulders. It was nice; soothing, even. Until he felt a sharp tug on the back of his neck. “Ouch! You gotta be more gentle than that!” The look of surprise on your face made him want to curl in on himself. “Mammon - are those feathers?” “Phffft,” The greedy demon rolled his eyes and tried to deflect your query, “Shaddap. You dunno what you’re talking ‘bout”. When your mouth opened again, he did take the opportunity to thrust sharply into you. At the gasp, he lurched forward with a passionate kiss. Simply to shut you up, of course. No hidden agenda. His pleased purring melted into a deep rumbling, the fire in his belly stoking itself back to life. It was impossible for him not to roll you over to allow him to bask in more of your shared passion. The laughter that ensued, laughter that he was sure was aimed at him, only made his heart swell as much as his cock.

#obey me #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date #deVien writes #deVien writes for asmo #Infernal Heat #Smut #mammon x gn! reader #mammon x gender neutral reader #Gender neutral reader #Mating cycles #Heat cycles #mating cycles/in heat #Feral Mammon #Monster fucking #Well gradual monster fucking #Insecure Mammon #Kind of a breeding kink but that's more instincts

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ahatintimepieces · 3 years ago

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It Comes Down in Buckets

Before Luka and Hattie ended up in Subcon, they faced many challenges on the road as they adjusted to Luka’s curse. This is a lil gift for Mak, @doodledrawsthings, and their “””Coffeeshop au””” where Luka pushes himself a bit too hard while trying to make the day special for Hattie. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 7,678

The rolling waves tumbled against the velvet sand and the morning sunlight skipped across the foaming crests, painting them gold. Hattie’s grip tightened around the old bucket she had found as she inhaled the salty, fishy air. Standing at the patches of grass that separated the edge of the forest from the beach, she gazed out at the shore. Her sketchbook waited in her backpack, begging her to pull it out and to memorialize the look of the sea and snapshot the ebb and flow of surging waves, but she had work to do.

She had to find the prettiest seashells before anyone else so she could sell them for some extra cash. Every little bit helped.

Weaving down to the beach, the warming sand caught between her toes and kicked up with each flop and flip of her flipflops. She swung the dented bucket with rust stains as she hurried to the lapping tide. She stepped into the water and immediately squealed before jumping back from the cold. The foam receded, as if teasing her, and an impish grin spread across her features.

As the water crawled back up the shore, Hattie fixed her old baseball cap and then leapt into the ankle-deep wave. Her initial screech dissolved into laughter. Splashing around, her flipflops tossed clouds of murky dust up and the sloshing, icy water splattered against her leg. She placed her hands on her hips and struck a pose as she gazed out at the sliver of light where the sky paralleled the ocean. With the cascading crackles of the snapping sea rumbling around her, it was hard not to let her mind wander into daydreams.

She could picture it perfectly. A calm day at the beach. No time limits for her dad, no worrying about money, and he could finally rest. He could finally be happy again. And she could play in the surf and chase crabs, pretend to be a pirate finding buried treasure, or draw and paint next to her dad as he napped. She could picture it so perfectly.

But she glanced down at the bucket as it bumped against her hip. Its creaking handle brought her back to reality.

Hattie let out a huff before shuffling out of the grasp of the waves, where it would be easier to spot shells. But before she did, a playful crest rolled back to reveal the tip of a fancy looking shell. Gasping, Hattie knelt and carefully tugged the shell free and revealed what she always thought of as a mini conch, though her dad would probably tell her that it was whelk of some kind since it had a rounder top and thinner end.

After checking the inside cavity for any snail or sea critter by poking a cautious finger around to confirm it was empty, she held the whelk to her ear.

She grinned when she heard the ocean. But she was also standing in it so the shell could still potentially be a dud. Nevertheless, she placed it into the bucket, and it slid around as she went searching for more.

As Hattie combed the beach, a couple people showed up to lounge on the sand or wade in the surf. It didn’t get crowded, since it was a workday, but when she wandered towards the opposite side of the long beach, where the sand was cut off by rounded boulders that jutted out into the sea, she ran into a tourist screaming at a seagull.

“What’s wrong?” Hattie called as she hoisted her bucket overflowing with shells to the side to make it easier to sprint forward.

“That darn seagull took my stuff!” The tourist gestured angrily towards a seagull perched on one of the rocks surrounded by water. It bobbed its head around as it stood proudly over a grey camera. Sunlight glinted against the lens.

“I’ll get it,” Hattie offered without hesitation. She placed the bucket down and scrambled up the boulders.

“Wait, kid, you don’t have to!” He waved his hands across his chest, trying to get her to stop, but it was too late. She didn’t listen as she assessed the slippery boulders and slowly navigated her way across.

She came to the edge of the final boulder and eyed the gap between it and the one in the waves. The seagull cocked its head towards her and let out a squawk. Pausing, Hattie glanced around, trying to figure out how to distract the seagull.

Before she could, the seagull snapped its beak towards something behind her and she glanced over her shoulder to find the tourist was waving a sandwich around. The seagull swooped over her, and she belatedly ducked as it soared over to the tourist. He yelped and turned on his heels before sprinting from the squawking bird.

Hattie tugged her cap down in determination before turning back towards the rock. She took a cautious step back before lunging from the boulder and vaulting onto the next. Grunting after she smacked against the rock, she scrambled up and grabbed the camera. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and nestled the camera between her sketchbook and Professor Popcorn. For good measure, she tucked her dad’s hoodie around it to keep it extra safe.

Once her backpack was zipped, she looped her arms through the straps and got ready to jump back.

The tourist had returned to his spot, hunched over and panting with his cap askew and white and grey feathers stuck to his vibrant orange shirt. She inhaled a steadying breath and leapt back towards shore.

She misjudged the distance.

Nearly sliding over the side of the rock, she scraped her knee against stone as she clambered and clawed. Panic squeezed her chest until she could finally find her grip.

“Careful, now!” the tourist called as she hoisted herself up with her heart pounding. She glanced towards the worried man and gave him a thumbs up before crawling forward.

Her stinging knee threatened to buckle when she first stood, but she gritted her teeth and pushed onward. She navigated back to the beach and dropped down onto the sand.

“Geez, kid, that was dangerous!” the tourist sighed as Hattie pulled out his camera.

“But I got it!” She beamed, holding it out proudly. Her smile faltered when she noticed the identical camera that hung around his neck. His chin tilted down as he followed her gaze.

“I was trying to tell you, I have a spare,” he said apologetically. “But, hey! Since you got it, why don’t you keep it? It’s great for preserving memories!”

Hattie pulled the camera back, appraising the contraption.

Preserving memories? No matter how much she sketched all the places she and her father had been, it might be nice to be able to just take a picture to quickly capture everything. She could take a picture of the sea, in fact. But she stared into the curved lens with growing dismay.

Flashes of headlights and blinding snaps. Posters with blurry images of her shadowy dad offering money for anyone who could capture the pictured creature, dead or alive. And, even when he shapeshifted, he was still so jumpy around cameras.

Maybe she could sell it at a pawn shop for a little extra cash? In the meantime, it might not hurt to keep it on hand…

“Oh, hold on,” the tourist exclaimed, startling her out of her thoughts. She tucked the camera back into her backpack and blinked up at him with wide blue eyes. “You got quite the scrape there, let me help.” He motioned her over to his set up on the beach, complete with a towel and umbrella.

After the tourist helped her clean up and shared back-up sandwiches he had prepared, she let him choose one of the shells to take as thanks and set off to sell the rest.

She set up a little area at the top of the beach, halfway between the rest of the city and the parking lot for beach goers. After doodling a cute sign declaring her wares were ready, she caught the eyes of passersby and wove imaginative tales about the shells for anyone who came near. Since this wasn’t the first time that she had sold items that she salvaged while her dad worked, she had developed a good enough sense to get a read on personalities and how to appeal to them. Parents with children were easily swayed by silly stories about the shells. She even managed to convince a businessman walking by to purchase one since her wares were far cheaper than the nearby souvenir shops that sold the same shells. And, after all, hers were higher quality and, really, didn’t he want to support an aspiring entrepreneur? (It probably helped her chances that she practiced that word a few times prior to make sure she was pronouncing it right).

She bolted when she spotted some cops patrolling the area, though.

By the end of the day, she successfully sold more than half of her shells. She tucked the coins and cash safely into an inside pocket in her backpack, where her secret stash would help her buy food for whenever her dad inevitably got stuck in noddle form and couldn’t work. She had tried giving her earnings to him directly before, but he had only gotten upset, insisting she didn’t need to worry about money and it was his job to take care of her, not the other way around. But they both knew that he often pushed himself past his limits, and he couldn’t do everything himself.

She was just beginning to collect firewood close to their camp when footsteps tracked through the grass. Hattie froze, turning towards the sound and holding her breath. Golden light flickered between the trees and an approaching shadow broke into the small clearing.

“Hey, kiddo!” Her dad, still in his human form, which surprised her, jumped forward with a wide grin and his hands behind his back. Wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes, but he was alert with enthusiasm as he straightened. A plastic bag crinkled noisily as it swayed behind him. “Guess what I got for our most important celebration tonight?”

“Celebration?” Hattie tilted her head, though his energy was infectious, and she cracked a smile.

“Don’t tell me you forgot what day it is,” he teased, bringing his hand forward and adjusting the delivery cap he wore for his morning job of delivering papers.

“Payday?” she guessed, crossing over to their firepit and dropping the dry twigs and branches she found.

“N-no, kiddo,” he faltered, quirking a brow as he revealed a plastic bag with local dollar store logo. “It’s your birthday!”

“Oh.” She blinked up at him.

“Did you really forget?” His features fell and the worn creases on his face highlighted the underlining fatigue. “We talked about it, right? When we were-when we were moving.”

“Y-yeah,” Hattie said. She did sort of remember now that he mentioned it, but she hadn’t thought too much about it since they had other things to worry about. “I just forgot what day of the week it is.”

He didn’t seem to believe her but he accepted the excuse.

“Well, I got hot dogs and marshmallows,” he added quickly, pulling out a bag of large marshmallows for emphasis. If he sensed how she tensed, he ignored it and gestured towards the direction of the beach. “I thought we could start a fire at one of the communal firepits and have a cookout!”

“What about our camp?” Hattie gestured to the little circle of rocks they had set up a few days ago when they first decided to settle in this city.

“It’ll still be here,” he promised. After tucking the marshmallows back into the bag, he walked over to her pile of wood and searched for the longest and cleanest sticks.

“But the beach is out in the open,” she pressed, nervously fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Don’t you need to change back?”

“Of course not!” he insisted with a little more force than he probably intended. In a lighter tone, he waved his hand dismissively with a smile plastered across his face. “I can hold it together long enough for your birthday. Come on! Let’s have fun!”

He placed a few sticks he deemed worthy for hot dog and marshmallow roasting into the plastic bag and then motioned for her to follow.

“But—” she hesitated.

“You know, I used to do this when I was a kid,” he jumped enthusiastically into the memory, not giving her a chance to argue. She frowned but grabbed her backpack and the bucket that still had the leftover seashells.

Hey, if they were going to be on the beach, she might as well keep an eye out for more.

“Any time we went camping, we would grab a bunch of hot dogs and marshmallows. Of course,” he added a bit quietly as they walked through the woods, “usually we had buns and graham crackers and chocolate. But I did snag some ketchup packets from the restaurant!” He beamed proudly.

Hattie forced a smile, though guilt gnawed at the reminder that he had worked two jobs that day, trying to get enough money together so that they could find a motel to stay at sooner than later. She considered giving him the money she had saved, but she didn’t want to cause him more grief especially since she could tell he was masking his exhaustion. Maybe she could hide the money where he would find it with his things? She could pass it off as him misplacing the bills!

Though, both of them had become increasingly vigilant when dealing with money in the past couple years. He would have noticed if that much went missing in the first place.

“Here we are,” he gestured to the firepit closest to the forest the second they walked onto the sand. “Sit tight while I get the fire going.” There was wrapped firewood next to the pit, all ready for them and their cookout. His water bottle was also leaning against one of the logs, indicating that he had stopped by before running to get her. While he finished setting up, Hattie gazed out at the sea.

The water mirrored the stretch of twilight. Orange-pink rays of dwindling sunlight lingered on the horizon and the occasional star twinkled in the darkening sky. Crackles and pops that came from the growing fire behind her mingled with the surging waves before her. And when her dad joined her side and held out his hand, she smiled as she took it, keeping her gaze locked on the horizon.

“It’s like that one picture in the book at the library in the last town,” she whispered, craning her neck back to meet his warm golden gaze. “The one with the watercolor illustrations!”

“It is!” he agreed, giving her hand a tight squeeze.

“I want to paint something like this one day,” she admitted, turning back to the sea.

“I bet you can, and sooner than you think.” His smile permeated his voice. He gently tugged her hand and nodded towards the firepit. Despite the lines under his eyes, he did seem happy, and that was good enough for Hattie.

“Okay!” She joined him on a log, and eagerly waited for him to pass her a stick he doused with water to keep it from burning.

Her dad filled her in on his day as they roasted the hot dogs. He got her laughing with a few jokes his coworkers shared, and she nodded knowingly when he told her about some of the customers he had worked with. When he asked about her day as he broke open the bag of marshmallows, she explained that she was looking for seashells and presented the bucket with her findings.

“Quick, if you have twenty seashells and I take five, how many do you have left?” he quizzed.

“F-fifteen!” Hattie blinked, hesitating only a moment as she registered the question.

“Good girl,” he praised, passing over a marshmallow.

“If you bought one bag of marshmallows for tonight, how many marshmallows will you have tomorrow morning?” She blinked up at him, trying and failing to conceal her growing smirk.

“Hmm.” He speared his own marshmallow as he gave her a wry grin. “That’s a tough one, why don’t you give me a hint?”

“Zero!” She pulled her burning marshmallow out of the fire and quickly blew on it.

The flames dissipated into a plume of smoke, leaving a burnt crust behind on the marshmallow. Without waiting, she popped it into her mouth and the gooey burst of molten sugar melted on her tongue.

“Becath I’ll eat ‘em all!” she declared through her sticky mouthful.

“Just don’t choke!” He chuckled before putting his arm around her and giving her a side squeeze. She immediately snuggled into his side, comforted by his warmth.

As they worked through the marshmallows and the night cloaked the beach, Hattie pulled out the hoodie and tugged it over herself. The hoodie was far too big since it was her dad’s but despite the floppy sleeves and how it was more like a dress on her, it was cozy and kept the night chill away. She became even cozier when her dad plucked her up and enveloped her in a hug.

“Happy birthday, princess,” he whispered as he nuzzled his cheek against hers.

“Hap—erm,” her cheeks flushed since she had almost wished him a happy birthday back. “Thank you.”

He chuckled and gave her a tight squeeze.

“Okay, I have one more surprise,” he said, arching back and stretching his arm maybe a bit farther than a human arm should, and rummaged around the plastic bag.

She leaned over, trying to peek and his other hand moved over her eyes.

“Don’t look!” He shifted around a bit before Hattie felt something lower into her lap. “Alright, now you can.” He pulled his hand away and she immediately glanced down.

Watercolors. A plastic palette of watercolors rested in her lap with a tiny brush snuggly tucked into a divot on the side. A single golden ribbon was taped on for the birthday wrapping. Her chest tightened as she imagined all the things she could paint, all the things she wanted to bring to life with water-soaked pigments.

But how much did he spend on her?

“Well?” he prompted with an edge of nervousness. “Is it okay?”

“I love it.” In one swift movement, she hugged the palette before swiveling around and burying her face into his chest. A lump threatened to lodge in her throat, but she swallowed it as she hugged her dad.

“Oh, Hattie.” He leaned over her and held her tightly. “I’m glad. I know it’s not much.”

“It’s perfect,” she promised, grasping his shirt.

He did so much for her, sacrificed so much just to take care of her, and now this? She wished she could do more to help.

After a few moments of lingering in his embrace, she pulled back while rubbing at her eyes.

“Everything oh-ahem.” Her dad suddenly pulled his hand away from his task of brushing her hair back. She wrinkled her nose as she blinked up at him.

He held his hand behind his back and his nervous, forced smile revealed his growing fangs.

“Dad,” she shuffled out of his lap, “you need to change back.”

She glanced around the beach quickly, relieved that there was no one nearby to see him.

“No!” He winced when an edge of a reverb tainted his voice. He cleared his throat and waved his other hand dismissively. It had completely turned ebony-violet. “I’m fine! I can hold it for a little long—” he stalled as he glimpsed his other hand and snapped it behind his back too, “—longer.”

Hattie frowned with her brows drooping. His irises radiated golden light as his pupils faded.

“Please. I know I can—” he faltered, pulling his hands back and holding them out before himself. His fingers trembled as they dripped, trying to reconnect. He bit his lip and grimaced when his lengthening fangs jabbed him. The familiar, purple-singed shadows spread from the expanding tips of his chestnut hair.

“It’s okay,” she insisted, turning around and rolling up the sleeves of the hoodie to start cleaning up so that they could head back to camp. She knew he was probably more exhausted than he let on.

“But it’s your birthday,” he whispered in such a broken voice that she felt a world of guilt press against her shoulders.

“And I can still spend it with you as a noodle!” She kept her tone light, giving him a smile strained from her concern.

The gold had encased his eyes and his teeth became backlit by a surging light in his throat. He considered her with tight dismay before scowling.

“No!” He pushed to his feet. “No, I can do this!”

“But, Dad,” Hattie called anxiously, unable to do anything but watch as he paced by the bonfire.

He held his hands out in front of himself, clenching them as he stared daggers into his purple palms. During his pacing, his legs began to quiver, and he paused, hunching as his hair began to drip. His fingers merged into mittens, taking on a gloopy appearance and Hattie thought that that was it, that he would just start getting bigger. She opened her mouth to try and get him to focus on saving his clothes, but the words died in her throat.

“Stop changing,” he wheezed in a wavering voice. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as he strained to keep a human shape. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, snuffing out his golden light. The flickering fire cast twisting shadows against his trembling form. His arms lost all pretense of having bones and flopped down like limp noodles. His legs buckled and he thrust out his hand to catch himself.

“Something’s wrong!” Hattie hurried to his side, reaching out as his mitten hand clenching the sand lost its shape entirely and expanded into a puddle.

“N-no,” his reverberating voice gurgled behind globs of dripping purple that stretched across his mouth when he parted his lips. “I can do this!” But just as he said that, he grunted and lurched forward. Viscous liquid oozed from his shoes as his legs melted.

But they didn’t form a tail.

They just pooled out uselessly behind him.

“Dad!” Hattie placed a hand on his arm, but it collapsed under her touch. He let out a strangled cry as his whole arm gave away and he slammed against the beach.

He continued to melt despite his groaning and straining. The trembling shadows spilled from his clothes and into the sand. Panic seized Hattie’s chest as she feared she was going to lose him to the beach. Glancing around frantically, her gaze fell onto the bucket, and she lunged for it.

“Hold on!” Hattie called as she dumped the shells out and slid over to her father, who had gone eerily silent as the pooling liquid oozed and spread.

She dropped the bucket into the sand and quickly tried to shove waves of the viscous liquid inside, catching particles of sand with it. Once half of him filled the rusted bucket and kept spilling out, she righted it before scooping up purple globs. She tossed handful after handful of the soupy remains of her father into the bucket. The trembling sludge sputtered and splashed. Tears stung the corners of her eyes when she saw some liquid darkening and fading into intangible shadows that disappeared into the sand, gone for good.

“Stay with me,” she whispered in a cracking voice as she scooped up every last bit that she could.

After wringing purple from his shirt, pants, and the edges of her sleeves which had tumbled into the puddle a few times, Hattie searched for any of her father’s features in the goop squelching against the edges of the bucket.

“Dad?” She lightly prodded the thick surface of the liquid and it shivered. A muffled groan bubbled up, though no golden light from his eyes or mouth followed. Hattie sighed, sitting back in the sand as she convinced herself that the fact that he had groaned meant he was still there. But now just as soup. In a bucket.

They’ve been through worse, right? This, too, should pass?

“Okay, you just sleep while I clean up,” she muttered as she pushed to her feet.

She collected their things and put out the fire, all the while glancing at the bucket as the goop settled. Once she had the plastic bag slung over her shoulder and her birthday gift tucked into her backpack, she slowly picked up the bucket.

“Oof,” she huffed as she heaved the bucket up, wincing when droplets splashed over the side. “Why is magic goop so heavy? That’s stupid,” she grumbled as she slowly made her way across the dark beach and back to their camping area. As she paused multiple times to give her arms a break and catch her breath, she swallowed the rising lump in her throat and pushed onward.

Luka groaned and on top of the usual reverb that came with his noodle body it sounded oddly like the gurgle of a garbage disposal choking on water. He blinked tired eyes and the golden glow rebounded against the daffodil-yellow inside of Hattie’s baseball cap.

Oh. Had he shrunk down and dozed while Hattie was shopping? That didn’t seem right. Actually, what had he been doing before this?

A surge of panic bubbled up as he recalled trying to hold onto his humanity at the beach. He remembered the tighter he held the form, the more it slipped through his clenched fingers. He heard a slosh of thick liquid when he tried to lift his hand.

He couldn’t lift his hand.

He couldn’t even turn his head! His eyes darted around frantically, catching the rim of some sort of curving, metal wall in the corners of his vision but he could only really look straight up at Hattie’s cap.

“K-ki—” he sputtered as some sort of gunk trickled into his mouth. Expelling wet coughs only caused more of the viscous goop to slip in. His anxious attempts to move coupled with his hyperventilating only increased the panicked sloshing that sounded like puddles disrupted by pricks of rain.

“Dad?” Hattie’s sleepy voice responded.

“H-help I’m—” he gagged on a particularly large glob.

“Hold on!”

He tried to spit out the gunk and a heavy droplet plunked against him. He shivered from the sensation but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what was going on. Relief swelled when the cap was removed and Hattie looked down at him, with sunlight filtering through the trees. Squinting at the sudden light, he tried to squirm around.

While not happy, she at least looked safe and sound. She wore his delivery cap, and he could see the dangling strings of his hoodie. If the sunlight was any indication, he must have slept through the night. He grimaced, hoping she hadn’t been too uncomfortable or cold without his coil to protect her from the elements.

“What’s going on?” he forced out, feeling like he was talking through a wad of bubblegum.

Hattie sat back, making it harder for him to see her at his angle. He twisted to try to get closer.

“You’re in a bucket,” she answered tiredly. When she glanced up and realized she was wearing his delivery cap, she jolted and swiftly took it off.

“A bucket?” he echoed in distress. His eyes shifted around as he glimpsed the walls and the occasional splash of purple-black goop if he moved too quickly. He blinked.

“Oh my god, I melted.”

“Yeah,” Hattie sighed as she rubbed her eyes with the baggy, purple sleeve. “Are you okay?”

“Um.”

No.

“I’ve been better.” He winced, realizing all the gunk that was getting caught in his mouth was himself. Fantastic.

“Do you need anything?” she prompted with hesitation as she glanced around. “Like water or something?”

“I need to get out of this bucket!” He pushed his eye against the rim, and he felt himself ripple. “Here, dump me out! I can try to—” he coughed, “—pull myself back together.”

“I lost so much of you on the beach though,” Hattie objected. “And y-you just disappeared, like the goopy stuff turned all shadowy.”

He caught the crack in her voice, and frowned, both from hearing how part of him just up and evaporated—okay, a lot of him if what was left of his monstrous noodle form could fit inside a tiny bucket—and from how much he had frightened her.

“I can’t stay like this, though,” he argued. “I have work! And you can’t stay in the woods on your own!” He shifted around, trying to figure out how to stretch his neck or anything but his neck and everything was gone! First, he lost his body and now he lost his monster body? This wasn’t fair! He couldn’t live like this!

In his frustration, he tried to will himself to have arms or hands or even his tail would work. The goop bubbled and frothed, and he grunted from the strain, but he could do it! He could pull himself together!

“Stop!” Hattie commanded. He yelped as he felt small hands jut into the goop and scoop up his features.

He felt himself spread out and winced as strands dripped back down into the bucket with heavy plops. It was like the world and his body were spinning around him, disconnected and far from his grasp as his head remained stagnant but stuck. After blinking and spotting Hattie’s thumb acting as a barrier as trickles of him slipped through the cracks of her fingers, he grounded himself in her frustrated blue gaze.

“If you keep hurting yourself, you’ll just make it worse!” Her nose scrunched up into a hard scowl, but he heard the lump in her throat underneath her irate bite. “Just stop!”

“Sorry,” he gurgled quietly. Her brows furrowed even more, and he added as gently as he could, “I’ll rest, kiddo. I’ll take it easy.”

“Promise?” She stared him down.

“Promise,” he breathed out, slumping.

She lowered him back into the bucket and a soft bloop sound was followed by flickers of drops as she pulled her hands out. He hummed to relieve some distress as he tried to force himself to relax.

“Maybe you just need sleep,” Hattie offered. She grumbled a bit, but he could tell she was trying to soften her tone.

“That’s usually all it is,” he agreed.

He did feel a similar exhaustion to all the times he pushed his time limit and got stuck in noodle form. Only this was much worse. Even when he was a human, he wasn’t sure he could ever remember a time he was so tired that he couldn’t move his muscles.

Leaning his eyes against the rim of the bucket for some semblance of security, he desperately hoped he wouldn’t be stuck like this. But even if he did eventually turn back to monster-normal, he had a sneaking suspicion he really screwed over his already sparse shapeshifting time.

“Do you want me to put the hat back over?” Hattie lifted her cap into his view. “To help you sleep?”

“No,” he said a little quickly. She lowered the hat and he added, sheepishly, “I know I can’t see much from here, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Okay. Go to sleep. Let me know if you need anything.” She scooted over to their campfire, and he heard the click of the lighter.

He sighed but tried to let the distant crackle of flame and the low tap of Hattie sketching on paper lull him into a semi-relaxed state. His eyes closed into tiny slits and as he dozed, a gentle and continuous rumble bubbled up from within.

“Dad?” Hattie whispered after a stretch of time, scooting back into view and looking down with her hair slipping from behind her ear.

“Hmm?” His eyes cracked open, slowly registering the rumbling sound. In his peripheral vision, the surface of the ebony-violet goop rippled steadily.

Hattie cracked a grin.

“You’re purring!” she said in slight disbelief before exploding into giggles.

“I’m—?” he began before he recognized the familiar and involuntary purr. A dusting of faint gold emanated from beneath the surface of the goop as he blushed.

“The whole bucket is shaking!” Hattie covered her mouth as her laugh trickled out in mirthful chimes.

Despite himself, Luka smiled, glad to hear her laugh.

“I guess it looks pretty silly,” he admitted, imagining the bucket wiggling around. Though now that he was becoming more alert, the rumbling slowed to a stop. In their absence, he realized how comforting the vibrations had been.

Hmm. Maybe the purring was a way to pull himself back together? It wasn’t something he could force or speed up, though. Typical.

“Do you want any food?” Hattie perked after she calmed down from laughing. “I was roasting some hot dogs.”

“I’ll try a bite,” his eyes and mouth shifted up and down in an affirmative nod that sent tiny waves splashing against the side of the bucket.

He couldn’t really tell if he was hungry, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to eat but he would do anything that would help him replenish some energy.

When Hattie returned with a torn piece of a hot dog, Luka opened his mouth and let out a gurgling, “ah.”

With a giggle, she gently lowered the hot dog as close as she could before dropping it. He felt the hot dog plop down and coughed. Hattie winced in apology as he closed his mouth and pensively chewed.

“I’m fine,” he said after a thick swallow. He couldn’t feel the lump of the hot dog anymore but in the past few years of dealing with his magic, goopy body, he learned to not ask questions he couldn’t answer and near the top of that list was wondering what the heck replaced his melted digestive track.

Hattie fed him a few more pieces and he swallowed the dismay of not being able to feed himself. Even though he had grown accustomed to relying on Hattie for help when his chameleon paws couldn’t work with delicate silverware, the familiar sorrow from the early days returned now that he didn’t even have hands.

After what he was certain was a late lunch, he napped on and off as Hattie remained nearby. When he would check in with her, she would present her latest sketches proudly, and even had one completed work in watercolor. It was a scene of the ocean, and while her sketchbook paper wasn’t meant to hold so much moisture, causing it to crinkle and warp when it dried, she excitedly explained that she was going to do other paintings exactly like it, but all showcasing the ocean at different times of the day. He told her that he was eager to see them, overjoyed that she was having fun with her gift like he had hoped she would.

If only he had been able to save up enough for a motel in time for her birthday, or at the very least, if only he hadn’t melted on her. But that was really his fault for pushing himself so hard.

He had just so badly wanted to make it special. She hadn’t even remembered her own birthday! What else was he supposed to do? Let himself turn into a monster? She deserved to have her actual dad on her birthday.

“Hey, Dad?” Her voice drew him out of his sinking despair.

“What’s up, kiddo?” he shifted his eyes in the bucket, trying to find a position that best allowed him to see her.

“What should I tell your boss?” She held out his phone, which was lit up with messages with letters in all caps.

Luka groaned.

“Can you read the messages for me?” He mentally prepared for the nerve-wracking ordeal of trying to explain himself without admitting to his boss that the reason he couldn’t make it to work was because he turned into a bucket of silly putty.

With Luka directing her, Hattie responded to the understandably angry but maybe harsher than necessary texts from his boss at the restaurant. Once that was done, he let out a heavy sigh, accidentally blowing a bubble in the goop, which shortly popped and splattered. He flinched when a drop landed in his eye.

“Do I have anything from the newspaper office?” Luka asked, dreading the thought of not only the manager getting upset when he found out no one had delivered newspapers in the morning, but of all the people who would no doubt call to complain about empty doorsteps.

“No,” Hattie replied slowly.

“Really?” Luka wasn’t sure if he should count that as good or bad. Either way, he was probably out of a job. “I’ll need to start looking for something else.”

“Why?” Hattie scooted closer, hugging her knees to her chest as she looked down at him.

“They’ve probably already decided to fire me,” he lamented with his mouth sinking and gurgling in the gunk.

“Nah.” She glanced away, tapping around on his phone.

He blinked up at her.

“Nah?” he repeated. When Hattie kept her gaze down and her lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowed. “Hattie? What did you do?”

“I maybe did your deliveries for you?” she offered guiltily.

He stared at her.

“You what?” he sputtered, causing his sludge to ripple as panic seized him. “By yourself? Hattie! You just turned eight! My route is a couple miles long, and you would have had to bike before dawn! There are child labor laws! What do you mean you did my deliveries?”

“I had help!” Hattie hurried to explain. “I ran into a nice tourist I met yesterday, and he gave me a map and delivered half of the newspapers for me.”

“You worked with a stranger?” Luka demanded, shifting around in the bucket. “Harriet Princeton, you are not supposed to talk to strangers!”

“So, I’m only supposed to talk to you?” She threw her hands up in the air.

“No! I mean—that’s not the point!” he faltered, sloshing around as the bite in her words stung. Bits of goop splattered over the rim and Hattie jolted.

“Stop freaking out!” She helplessly tried to grasp at the stray droplets. “I can’t lose you again!”

He paused, tensing. Well, tensing as much as he could as a viscous liquid.

“Wh-what do you mean lose me again?” he pressed tightly.

“I thought you were gone when you melted,” she said with a cracking voice. She hugged her legs and rest her chin on her knees. “I thought I didn’t get all of you in time and you were gone, and I just wanted to help because you’re so tired all time but—” she trailed off in a squeak as tears filled her eyes.

“Hattie—” he shifted towards her, but the goop sputtered as he instinctively tried to reach out to his daughter. Liquid stung his eyes and he blinked rapidly. “Hattie, look at me please.”

She turned and revealed tears streaming down her cheeks.

Gold blurred his vision, but he pressed on.

“I’m sorry,” he began in a congested voice, thick with gunk and reverb. “I know you were just trying to help, and I appreciate it! But I don’t want you worrying about my jobs or money. You shouldn’t have to.”

His voice cracked and all too late, he realized that the reason he sounded so congested was partly because of the golden tears filling the bucket. They glittered in the goop, separated like oil drops in water. His breath hitched and the goop swelled.

“But I can—” he tried to continue as the tears slipped out and the goop splashed up when he instinctively tried to wipe them away with a hand that wasn’t there.

“You’re spilling!” Hattie interrupted, jolting upward and hurrying over, placing her arms around the rim but the added tears were causing his anxious sloshing to spill over. “Stop crying!”

“What?” He jolted, shifting his eyes around and catching glimpses of purple and gold staining her sleeves. Her dismayed features above him only encouraged his tears and he made a muffled sniffling noise as panic surged and his tears swelled.

“Dad!” she yelped. But her own distraught features cleaved through his squishy, melted chest.

“I-I can’t! Give me a moment!” Twisting away, he tried to lock his eyes on something to ground himself, but in his panic, he kept attempting to turn and wipe his tears. The spilling goop sloshed uncontrollably.

“Try to laugh!” Hattie begged. “Tell me a stupid joke!”

“Ah, uh.” He pressed his lips into a tight line as he struggled to think of something. “Um. You know what? This situation really pails in comparison to—uh—that one time we teleported into that bear den!”

“What?” Hattie furrowed her brows. But it looked like her tears halted in confusion.

“P-pails, like a pun? It’s a joke. It’s supposed to be funny. Please laugh,” he said weakly. He blinked and let out a tight exhale as he felt himself calm and the rest of the goop start to settle.

“That’s a stupid joke.” Hattie sniffled as she leaned back and slowly lifted her arms, revealing sleeves soaked with purple sludge.

“I got buckets of them.” He added a sardonic, “ha,” as the gold ebbed. While a few dancing droplets of tears wiggled in his goop, now that he was calmer, trembling splashes no longer spilled over the rim.

Hattie wrung out the sleeves. He flinched at the droplets that pelted his face and sent ripples along the surface.

“That’s even worse,” she sighed, though a small smile found its way onto her features. She tugged up one of her sleeves and gingerly reached over and wiped at the edge of his eye.

He grunted, squeezing it shut but when she pulled away, he watched her flick a golden droplet towards the grass. He sighed, blowing a few bubbles.

“Please don’t do my job tomorrow,” he said quietly. “We’ll be okay.”

She nodded slowly before thinking better of it.

“Only if you promise not to push yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” he said tiredly before he yawned. Sludge dribbled into his mouth, and he sputtered.

“Sleep.” She poked the goop. He shifted his eyes next to her finger, which was the closest he could come to giving her an encouraging nuzzle.

“What about you?” he asked, staring up at the canopy of leaves. There was still sunlight trickling down, but it seemed fainter.

“I can eat soon,” she shrugged.

“Wake me if you need anything,” he muttered, feeling his eyelids grow heavy.

Did he even have eyelids at this point? Maybe it was more that his eyes were sinking. Might be more apt.

Hattie promised to, but he had a feeling they both knew she would deal with any problem on her own before waking him. Frowning, he supposed the best thing he could do for her would be to recover as swiftly as possible.

He settled into the bucket, and soon enough, the sludge began to ripple as he automatically purred. He caught Hattie’s stifled snort at the vibrating bucket before he fell asleep.

Night blanketed the forest by the time he woke up again. Still purring, he blinked as he felt something shift. The rippling rumbles of goop seemed to be tightening and when he moved to lift his head, he peeked over the rim of the bucket. Relief swelled inside as he spotted Hattie’s back. She was drawing by the fire, safe and sound.

Edging backward, he tilted his head down, blinking at the vibrating goop as it slowly re-solidified into shape. After a moment, he lifted his noodle arms and wiggled his chameleon paws. Funny, he was actually relieved to see them for once. Once his tail formed, he heaved out a sigh. There wasn’t a drop of him left behind in the bucket, but now he took up less volume.

“Kiddo,” he called softly, floating up to the rim of the bucket and placing his hands on the edge, curling his tail beneath himself.

“Dad!” Hattie gasped when she saw his familiar form. Scrambling around, she darted over, and he flew up into her embrace.

“You’re tiny,” she muttered into the plush fluff around his neck. His tail waved back and forth as he returned her firm hug.

“I’m sure I’ll get back to normal size,” he guessed. Probably. After a long enough rest without using his shapeshifting.

Moments passed until he caught a low grumble coming from Hattie’s stomach. He craned his neck with a smirk.

“In the meantime, are there anymore marshmallows to share?”

“I ate them all. Remember our math quiz? Zero left.” Hattie said without missing a beat as she turned back around and brought him to the fireside. “Just kidding, I saved you some.”

“That’s my girl!” His tail waved harder as he chuckled.

He extended an arm towards the bag, noting that he couldn’t really stretch it like usual, and made a grasping motion. Hattie plopped the bag into her lap, still using an arm to hug him, and they both took turns popping the confections into their mouths.

Yes, after a week’s worth of rest, he would grow to his usual massive size and when he could shapeshift again, he would have to deal with the consequences of missing so much work. But until then, he and Hattie would take it day by day and one marshmallow at a time.

#ahit coffee shop au #doodledrawsthings #ahit prince #ahit hat kid #my writing #*kickflips into ur tumblr experience wearing rubber fishing suspenders and a cap that says 'words want me. ghost dads fear me'*#Me: Bucket's haunted #You probably: What?#Me not breaking eye contact as i grab a pail and head for the exit: Bucket's haunted #this got very long whoops #but i hope its a fun read!#thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

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