#lacey watches shattered glass

[lacebird]

feel like watching shattered glass bc every picture i've seen of hayden in that movie he's so damn pretty in it

[the-kr8tor]

Crossed Stitch

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), brief mention of fainting, cw injury, drinking, description of illness, reckless driving, cursing.

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Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 7 >>> CHAPTER 8

Hobie lied to you.

He absolutely does not feel well. Shutting off his engine, he weakly waves to Ned, smoking outside the pub. The place is packed, loud voices and music can be heard.

Ned scrunches his nose at Hobie, "bruv, you don't look too good" He offers Hobie a cigarette, he declines it, thinking it might make him feel worse.

"Yeah, I know" Hobie wipes his sweat off his brow, he feels a fever coming. Maybe he should've listened to you.

"What's wrong with you? Flu?" Ned flings his cigarette onto the street, the light flickering out.

"Spider bite"

"What the fuck" Ned laughs, patting his shoulder. "Fucking hilarious, bruv. Go get it checked"

"I'm fine, I'll just go show my face and leave" he huffs, almost breathless.

"You sure? I'll get you some water then, c'mon" Ned leads Hobie by his sagging shoulder.

Entering the pub, everything seems to be brighter and louder than before. Hobie hears glasses clinking everywhere, loud laughter ringing in his ears. He scrunches his nose, Yuri and James spots them from their booth.

"Oof you look a little green there, Hobie" Yuri schooces to give Hobie some room to sit on.

The leather squeaks when he sits down, groaning at the bright lights. Hobie rubs his eyes using the heel of his palms.

"Did you pregame or somethin'?" James asks, nursing a pint.

"He's sick, poor Hobie," Ned chuckles, handing Hobie a glass of cold water.

"Shut up, you bloody tosser" Hobie grumbles.

"How'd it go with y/n?" Yuri questions Hobie.

He doesn't have time to answer her question when Hobie touches the cold glass, it feels weird in his hand, wincing, pulling back his hand like it burnt him. "Fuck" the glass falls in slowmotion, he catches it before it shatters into the hard floor.

The group looks at him surprised and amazed at his fast reflexes.

"Yoooo" Ned exclaims. Yuri acts unimpressed, checking her nails.

"How'd you do that?" James watches as Hobie gulps the entire drink, glass thumping against the wooden pub table.

"I've got to go" Hobie's eyes are blown out, senses overwhelmed. He still feels thirsty and hungry, very hungry.

His friends call out to him in concern, Ned tries to follow him but too many people block his path in reaching Hobie. Ned tries to get his attention by yelling Hobie's name.

Wobbling on shaky legs, Hobie bumps into someone. Lacey turns around to smile at him, fluttering her lashes.

"Hobs! You made it!" She tries to offer him a shot of vodka, the smell wafts his senses.

"Not now" he grimaces, declining. Hobie continues walking towards the exit. Clambering on his bike, he speeds off.

Hobie hears Ned and Lacey call out to him, ignoring them. Wind nips at his bare arms as he rides away.

He dodges cars on the road, some angrily honking at him. His eyes seem to open up to everything, aware of every little movement on the road. Heart thumping loudly in his chest, Hobie follows the road back to his place. If he heads to yours, you would force him to go to the ER. He's stubborn, thinking a good night's rest and some ibuprofen would knock this sickness off him.

You, he smiles at the simple thought of you. Hobie's glad he took that chance in the museum, judging from how you kissed his cheek and your goofy smile you made right after, it's safe to say that you feel the same way. He can still feel the ghost of your lips on his cheek, lingering on his skin like your perfume.

Distracted, Hobie almost collides with a van, gasping, eyes wide, he swerves away last minute, avoiding a collision. "Shit!" He screams, sparing a quick glance at the driver he almost hit.

You're right, he should drive carefully, especially now that he finally told you how he feels. Hobie feels like he should've been more blunt, deciding to be more direct tomorrow when you meet. He wants to spend more time with you, more than excited to see you again.

Hobie finally reaches his houseboat. Opening the front door, tugging his boots off, tossing it haphazardly. He takes his sweaty clothes off, leaving him in only his boxers. Exhaustion claims him before his hunger did, landing harshfully on his bed, he sleeps like a corpse.

—

Hobie wakes up weird, not like 'I woke up on the wrong side of bed' weird, but a 'I feel like I climbed Everest while asleep' weird. He groans at his blaring alarm clock, the sound seems to be amplified in his sensitive ears. Shielding his ears with a pillow doesn't help with the loud ringing sound.

Frustrated, Hobie turns to shut it off, shattering the poor alarm clock with his fist. He looks at his hand like it grew an extra finger in his sleep. The clock beeps sadly before it shuts off completely. Hobie sits up, extremely aware of his surroundings, he can see everything like his eyesight improved a hundred times more. From the dust bunnies in the corner of his room, to the lone ant skittering on his floors. The sound of dripping water from the faucet is annoyingly loud. The hum of his radiator stings his ears.

Goosebumps appear on his arms before a draft whooshes past him. Maybe he has a fever? Hobie feels at his forehead, finding it to be a normal temperature. So not a fever? He wipes at his sweaty forehead, moist clinging to him like glue.

He stands up, seeing his mattress covered in his sweat, leaving a Hobie shaped mark on his green sheets.

"I need water" he says to no one, smacking his dry lips. Hobie's starving like he hasn't eaten in days, stomach gurgling at the thought of food.

Opening the bedroom door, he accidentally breaks the doorknob right from its socket. "What the fuck?" Hobie's sure he's not that strong. The metal doorknob falls harshly on the wooden floors, the sound banging at his eardrums.

Grabbing the hole where the doorknob should be, he pulls it open, unaware of his new found strength, ripping it right off its hinges. "Fuck?!" The door sticks to his hand, unable to shake it off even with all his fingers letting it go. Shaking the flimsy wood, he has no other choice but to bang it on the side of the wall, it shatters effortlessly. He looks at the shards of wood with shock and confusion.

Hobie breathlessly looks at his hand where a piece of the door is still stuck on his palm. He tries to shake it off while heading towards his bathroom. More aware of his strength, he carefully pushes the door with his hip. Stepping inside he opens the faucet to wash off his supposed sticky hand. Hobie, forgetting about his unusually strong grip, flings the metal right off the sink, water splashes his face in a rush.

"No!" He splutters, water hitting him right on his face.

Panic settles in his chest, he grabs whatever piece of cloth he has inside the small bathroom, tossing it to the gushing water, trying to stop its flow. His ear perks up when he hears your footsteps getting closer to the door. He has no idea how he can hear your shoes hitting the floor of his boat.

"Shit" Hobie can't let you see him like this. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he looks like a mess. Water dripped from his face to his torso, hair sticking in different angles, lips dry from dehydration. Not to mention he's only wearing his boxers.

Rushing out of the bathroom, he slips on the wet floor, sliding around his boat, hip hitting his rickety table, the landline and answering machine falls harshly on the ground. He falls on his ass trying to save it from falling.

The phone's dial tone beeps loudly. His answering machine lay open on the ground, the speaker letting out bits and pieces of what sounds like Lacey's last voicemail.

"Hey, Hobs– are you…Hey, Hobs– here?... can…Hobs?" Her voice annoyingly continues in a loop, speaker unusually loud and clear for an old machine, Hobie has no time to silence it when you knock again, voice muffled, asking if he's okay. He looks like he's in an episode of looney tunes, slipping on the floor comically while his hands stick to everything he touches for support.

"I'm fine!" he yells back to you, forgetting you can't hear a thing from outside. Hobie groans in pain, wincing, hand nursing his sore ass. Breathless from sliding all over his boat. At least the piece of wood isn't stuck on his palm anymore, landing somewhere he wouldn't bother to look for. Hobie almost slips again when he reaches the door, using the wall to stop his fall.

He flexes his fingers, trying to control his strength, opening the door a little too harshly for his taste (good thing he didn't rip it off this time) your concerned face greets him. He licks his dry lips, trying to look semi presentable.

Seeing his jacket on you in the morning light makes him speechless, it hugs you comfortably, sleeves too long for your arms, yet you don't fold it so that you don't damage its leather. Hobie holds the doorknob harshly, trying to stop himself from kissing you right there and then.

The world grows dim around you, bathing you in a spotlight, you're the only thing that matters to him at that moment. He can't believe it took him this long to tell you how much he—

"Hobs?"

Lacey's voicemail loops again, cutting his words before it leaves his lips.

Hobie watches your face turn from concern to anguish in a matter of seconds. Your lips quiver, turning harshly from him. He tries to grab you by the shoulder, fingertips grazing his jacket.

"Y/n! Wait!" He tries to follow but he literally can't move, feet sticking to the floor like he's trying to wade through maple syrup. "Fuck! What the fuck!"

There's a sharp pain in his chest as he watches you run away from him. "Y/n!" He tries again, futile.

—

Hobie sits on his lumpy settee, still in his boxers, eyes staring blankly at the open front door, cold seeping inside. He clutches the cursed answering machine in his hands, wanting to slam it against the wall. Alas it still works no matter how busted it looks, he's sure he can still fix it. Answering machines are damn expensive anyway, even if they are cursed.

He jumps when a mosquito buzzes inside his living room, the bug's wings flapping clearly in his vision. Hobie chokes on air.

"What the fuck is happening!" He screams into the void of his empty house boat.

His first thought is you, if anyone could help him with his affliction it would be you. But it doesn't seem like you're in a chatting mood. Hobie curses the answering machine again, he should've at least said goodbye to Lacey before leaving, if he did, she wouldn't have left that voicemail. Or better yet, he should've tried harder to run after you, hold you in his arms and explain everything. Public indecency be damned.

"Stupid fuckin' machine" Hobie places the machine on his sofa, reflecting in the what ifs.

The annoying buzzing sound from the mosquito gets closer to him, he has had enough of this bugger. jumping immediately when the bug stops right above him, intending to squish it, Hobie finds himself jumping higher than before, like an astronaut leaping in low gravity. He yelps, panicking, reaching towards the ceiling.

Instead of falling on the hard wooden floors, his hands and feet stick to the ceiling like velcro. The mosquito mockingly flies past his head and onto his hand, making Hobie look at his fingertips closely, seeing tiny spikes all over his palms and fingers.

"What the fuck?" He whispers, Hobie tries to wiggle himself free. Grunting, he figures if he relaxes, his hold would loosen. Exhaling, the stickiness loosen, fingers slowly unsticks to the ceiling. He begins to fall, landing hard on his bare back.

"Argh!" He yelps a pained yell. "My back!" Reaching behind to rub his sore muscle. Hobie stands up, stretching his torso, testing his shoulders for any pain.

Hobie limps towards the sofa, sitting back down, feeling every thread under him, overwhelming his senses. Trying to tamp down his panic, relaxing on its lumpy cushions. He broods in the weird situation for a few minutes.

"I'm a mutant," Hobie says in bewilderment after a moment of reprieve. At the last word, he remembers one person who could also help him, someone who's into comic books that has superpowered mutants in it. But first he heads to his kitchen, raiding his fridge for much needed sustenance.

He could maybe try to get used to his strength, he can't ride his motorcycle like this, afraid he might accidentally break it. So Hobie spends the entire day bouncing around his boat, exploring his new found abilities, eating everything in his fridge, trying to find out where he got the abilities and most importantly, trying to call your dorm.

Hobie hopes you pick up soon.

—

Hobie bangs at Ned's door, "Ned! It's me!"

A few minutes later, a disgruntled Ned opens the door, wearing a fluffy bathrobe. "Hobie? What the fuck! It's seven am! What are you doing in Richmond?"

"She's not talking to me" Hobie pushes past Ned to get inside his new flat.

"Welcome, come inside" he sarcastically says, "Christ" shutting the door.

Hobie takes a few seconds to look around the sparse flat, boxes are littered around the place, a disassembled shelf sits in the corner, plates and pans placed haphazardly on the kitchen counter. He turns around to face a tired Ned.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Hobie points at Ned's questionable fashion.

"Don't fucking mind that" Ned tries to cover himself up with his arms crossed on his chest, "What the fuck are you doing this fucking early? And what did you do now?"

"I think there's something wrong with me, Ned"

Ned looks at Hobie's disheveled state. "Clearly there is." Hobie rolls his eyes at his friend's quip "Wait hold on, why isn't y/n talking to you?"

"I told her" knowing exactly what Hobie meant, Ned has a huge grin, proud of his friend. "And she seemed to feel the same"

Ned dramatically gasps, "I could've told you that," rolling his eyes, "good on you. Continue"

"The next day, she knocks on the door with me answering half fucking naked and sweaty–"

"Way to lay it on her, bruv" Ned teases.

"Yeah, after that we had hot steamy sex–"

Ned plugs his ears with his fingers, "Nope! Can't hear you!" Regretting his joke.

"It's not fucking like that you wanker" Hobie huffs, "she thought I hooked up with someone, and she ran"

"Have you tried calling her?"

"Of course I did, she wouldn't answer. Her RA wouldn't let me in, said she's sick or somethin'"

"Mate, look you're one of my best mates" Ned pinches the bridge of his nose. "But it's seven fucking am! I don't have the energy to put up with your lover's quarrel!"

"I fuckin' know that, it's not just that. D'you think I would wake up this bloody early? I haven't fuckin' slept"

"What else then?"

"It's best if I show you" Hobie jumps high, stumbling a bit, hands sticking to Ned's ceiling. He dangles by his hand, long legs swinging from the momentum. "Remember the spider bite?"

Ned laughs loudly before his eyes roll back to his head, falling down like a sack of potatoes, unconscious body hitting the carpeted floor.

"Shit" Hobie says while sticking to the ceiling. It's gonna be a long day, maybe he should help Ned with unpacking while he explains. But first he needs to help his unconscious friend off the floor.

—

A few days later, Hobie tries again to contact you again, leaning against his bike in your campus' parking lot, waiting to see your familiar face. He flexes his stiff hands, unusually anxious to see you again.

Hobie reeled himself in from bothering you for a few days, busying himself with handling whatever that spider gave him. He stopped calling you, maybe space is what you need, even if it hurts him to do so. He will never admit that though, not to Ned, not to anyone, even you.

He feels like an absolute stalker standing in the parking lot, eyes darting around, he hates it. But Hobie misses you terribly. He misses your voice, especially when your hand is cupped in his, squeezing his hand, telling him you're still right next to him. He feels your absence right inside his ribcage, eating away at him like spilled acid.

He finally sees you come out of the building, a soft smile appearing on his lips. You clutch a heavy bag on your shoulder, stacks of books and notebooks in your arms. Hobie notices your downturned gaze, a frown in place instead of your usual smile. You don't see him in the lot, a sea of cars blocking him from your line of sight. You walk away from the doors, mind seemingly occupied.

Hobie weaves through parked cars, eyes fixated to your retreating form. Someone catches up to you before he does, He stops abruptly, watching as someone wearing glasses taps your shoulder getting your attention. Turning around, you smile sweetly at the man in a sweater vest, lips moving to talk to him.

You still haven't noticed Hobie.

From where Hobie's standing, he can't make out what you're talking about with the guy, but you seem to be engaged in the conversation, nodding at his words. Hobie waits for you to finish talking to the man, he needs to talk to you without an audience. Hobie has no idea how to start but he'll be damned if he doesn't explain everything to you. He can't let your ten year relationship go to waste just like that.

He can't lose you because of something so stupid.

Hobie shifts from foot to foot, impatient. The conversation looks like it's about to end, the glasses guy tries to hand you something, your hands full, trying to balance your stuff in your arms. The man offers to take your books for you instead, you sheepishly thank him with a smile, exchanging your books for the package he was handing to you.

Hobie watches as your fingers grazes the unknown man's hands, passing the heavy stationary to him. The man says something, making you giggle. You point at the direction of your dorm, he nods, following you, continuing the conversation.

Hobie isn't a jealous man, the guy looks like he has good intentions, he appears to be nice. You deserve someone nice, you deserve so much more.

He starts to walk away when a familiar woman who Hobie has probably seen in your class. She jogs towards you, pink hair shiny in the sun. You greet her with a timid smile, introducing her to the other guy, you three walk by, talking comfortably with each other.

You'll be fine, Hobie thinks. But will he?

Hobie swallows the lump in his throat, walking back to his bike with a heavy weight weighing him down. His chest feels like something's crushing it, waiting for him to keel over.

—

The boat rocks softly in the waves, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. Hobie tinkers with his invention, still a prototype, he screws in a canister with a screwdriver, entirely focused on the little gadget.

Goosebumps appear on his arms, hearing your familiar footfalls. He stands up immediately, Hobie needs to explain everything to you that it was just a misunderstanding, a very *stupid misunderstanding. He rushes towards the front door when he hears you running away again.

Opening the door, you're nowhere to be found. He gets out onto the 'porch' of his boat to look for you, nothing, just your perfume lingering in the air.

"Goddamnit" Hobie looks down at his feet, dejected. He sees a box wrapped in red sitting next to his front door. Bending down, he gingerly grabs it. His eyes go straight to the piece of paper taped on top of the packaging.

It's his favour card, Hobie frowns at it, flipping the card over, he reads your familiar handwriting, a single word scribbled on it: Please.

A/N: Me: i hate miscommunication tropes, also me: hehehehehe.

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️ reblogging encourages me to write more ❤️

[porcalinecunt]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 — 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

💀 KINKTOBER EVENT

🎧 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐗 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐜𝐰 — dollification (specifically the ‘porcelain doll’ treatment). dom!shang tsung. porcelain doll!reader. praise kink. crossdressing(?). stripping. size kink. reader isn’t an actual doll btw!

a/n: hey! sorry i missed out the last five days, i was busy ;-; regardless, im back with shang tsung yet again and a kink that i haven’t seen any content of on here. i had fun writing this (especially with shang tsung) so please, enjoy! 🫶🏼

Shang Tsung adored his little dollie, sitting in front of him on the red, velvety examination bench. You were completely still, with the only thing moving is your legs. Your once superior—now fiancé—bent down to tighten the straps of your dolly shoes till they fit snug on your feet.

You were his masterpiece, a fragile thing made of glass eyes and a heart made of yarn. Your skin, porcelain with tiny imperfections that Shang Tsung left on you as he loved them too much to remove. However, besides the adorable and docile appearance you adorned on your face, you were utterly devoted to your maker.

Even if there was a more twisted side of him, one that is only shown behind locked doors.

His hands began to run up your legs, gently squeezing your calf before reaching your thighs. Through this, you still remained stone face with only slight twitches and your doll-like eyes resting a bit as you watched your lover worship the skin your in. His fingers hooked onto the hem of your skirt, quickly pulling it down. You already knew what he wanted, and you already were playing your part.

“My love, my beautiful boy. I can’t get enough of you, you’re my perfect doll—so fucking perfect.”

He whispers in your ear, pressing his body against yours. He was so much larger and taller then you, making it way too easy for him to tip you over. But he caught you before you could fall and hurt yourself.

Gently, he laid you down. You were completely still as Shang Tsung began to strip you of your garments. The lacey top he put you in slipped off of your body, exposing your nude state. The only thing you had was a ribbon around your marked up neck from last week. The thigh high stockings hugging the flesh of your thighs, putting the focus on your weeping cunny. Needy and desperate for your maker.

Yet you never showed a shred of emotion, only your dilated pupils staring up at Shang Tsung. Although, he knew that eyes don’t lie. He looked down at your pouty lips, trembling with the urge to beg. Beg for his cock to tear you open while his hands bruised your skin, all while ruining your guts to your desire.

But he would never. Not to his porcelain doll.

His fingertips ghosted over your cheek as he slowly sunk deep into your cunt. Your eyes fluttered shut, mouth forming an “o” shape as a breathy moan slipped out from your throat. Immediately, he crept his fingers into your mouth, silently encouraging you to suck on them.

You watched as your maker pumped his cock in and out of you, savoring every inch. You continued to hold still, your body rocking up the table from how hard Shang Tsung was fucking you, all while trying not to bite down on his fingers.

You were also quite, with small mewls and breathy moans being the only thing coming out of your mouth. Usually, your maker would be pleased. Quite and obedient, without making a fuss of things. However, Shang Tsung must’ve grown bored of your usually docile state and wanted to see a new side of you, if you were willing. With an iron grip and a quick slap to the thigh, you yelped and immediately covered your mouth. For the first time, your stone face finally shattered and your dolly eyes were syrupy and wide from shock.

“No no, don’t be shy y/n—I want to hear you better then before.”

He commanded, pulling your hand away and placing it back onto your hips before lifting them up and rapidly fucking you. He leans over you, while you gripped his shoulders and cried out his name. Underneath him, you felt so small and helpless, only able to take his cock and cling onto dear life. Cut off whines and sobs for more as he inches closer and closer to his orgasm, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and needy.

“Ah—ah—ah—‘m gonna..!”

You were cut off when Shang Tsung cupped your face and captured your lips with his, swallowing your sobs as you came hard. Your legs shook, your toes curling while you simply melted under the foreign feeling of an orgasm this intense. You couldn’t even recover from the afterglow when you suddenly felt a hot sensation fill your cunt, realizing your maker was—once again—breeding you to the brim like the good doll you are.

Shang Tsung stared down at you, a grin painting his face at the sight. Tears stained your cheeks as your eyes were still watering. Your pouty lips were glossy and swollen from his aggressive kisses and your body trembled still. He wished he could just bury his dick in you forever, but he reluctantly pulled out and scooped you into his arms.

“You did so good today doll, what would I ever do without you..?”

He cooed, carrying you away to touch up and place you somewhere where he can admire his creation, while you just sit still and be the good porcelain doll you were ment to be.

🎧 this work belongs to @porcalinecunt. reblogs and feedback are appreciated. <3

[pierrotwrites-hc]

Chapter 44 Sneak Peak

Redditch was fast asleep when the gate exploded.

To the unlucky guards on night shift, it seemed as if the gate had been annihilated by an angry god. It combusted in a fireball that lit the night with an unholy orange glow. The blast shuddered through the camp. Glass shattered; roofs cracked. The sky rained splinters and hot metal.

In the barracks, soldiers jerked awake and flung themselves from their beds. They were treated to what would in better circumstances have been the hilarious sight of their commanding officers in long underwear, trying to fumble on their boots while bellowing orders so muddled it was clear they were still half-asleep.

Through the chaos, the soldiers heard the cries of the runners sprinting through the garrison.

“The rebels are here! The rebels are here!”

Davies woke up and fell out of bed. Pain clamped on his leg like a double set of teeth, dull and sharp at once. He screamed for his secretary—his useless secretary, who was not even worth having now Balkas was no longer around to torment.

A moment later, the man appeared in the doorway. Some trick of the light made him look like he had too many legs. Davies blinked; his vision cleared.

“Help me up at once,” he ordered.

“That’s not very polite, is it, General?”

Davies blinked again, this time in an irrational attempt to clear his ears. Surely he couldn’t have heard that right?

“I gave you an order,” he said, and winced at how petulant he sounded. Like a child, not an officer. Never mind a General.

The secretary considered. Then—

“No.”

“No?”

“I should think a man of your dubious personal qualities would be intimately familiar with rejection,” the secretary sighed. “But I see not. Pity; a few more no’s might’ve improved your character.”

“I’ll see you court martialed!”

“You underestimate the gravity of your situation, General. By sunup there will be no court for you to martial.”

The watched Davies sputter with an almost clinical amusement.

“That’s assuming you’re still alive by then,” he went on. “Let’s see what kills you first: the rebels or that rotting leg.”

He slammed the door and locked it behind him, leaving Davies in the dark to shout himself hoarse.

When the gate exploded, Tris was in Gaskin’s bed, laying listless as a dildo was sawed in and out of him. The old man rarely got hard anymore, and almost never hard enough to fuck, but he seemed to enjoy mimicking the act nearly as much as performing it.

This dildo was a particular favorite. The General had commissioned it specially; it was modeled after his cock.

It was difficult, when being used like this, for Tris to remember that he was important. It was difficult to forget all the men who had thrust and sweat and emptied themselves in him. He ought to be angry—and he was angry, most of the time. The heat helped cauterize the wounds those men had left.

But this was one of the nights when he was so tired that he felt the wounds as if they were fresh. This man was every man who’d ever forced themselves on him. This rape was every rape, every single one, back to the night his virginity had been auctioned off to a fat old lord who reeked of piss and hair oil.

Tris was spread out over all these moments, each pinning him like a nail. He was spread so thin he was transparent. Like he wasn’t really anywhere at all.

Then the gate exploded. Tris didn’t know that, of course; all he knew was that some great unseen force flung itself against the walls. Precious things fell off shelves and shattered. The lamp swung wildly overhead.

Tris thought of Luca’s funny little box. He thought of Asher Lacey, playing peasant. He started to laugh.

Gaskin had leapt to his feet. Now he turned to scowl at Tris.

“What the devil are you laughing at?”

Tris grinned up at the ceiling.

“You.”

Gaskin stared at him, astonished. He was still holding the dildo.

Tris wondered if his master was going to hit him. Other masters hit him often; this one never had.

Maybe this will be the one I hit back, Tris thought. How was that for justice?

Someone kicked the door. It jumped in its frame. Gaskin jumped, too. He had just enough time to throw the dildo aside and grab his sword before another kick broke the lock.

The door swung open. Aram stood in the threshold. He was holding a broom-pole with a knife lashed to the end.

“Is that meant to be a spear?” said Gaskin after a moment. The condescension didn’t quite hide the edge of fear.

Aram flexed his fingers, turning the makeshift spear in a deft figure-eight. Gaskin went pale.

“The reji said you were nobody. A servant, given to the temple.”

“The reji is a liar. I was First Spear of Ithithe’s Sacred. And before that—” Aram met Tris’s eyes and smiled. “Before that, I was a prince.”

[julybloom]

carson's heart twisted painfully in his chest as he watched lacey crumble before him, her words cutting through him like shards of glass. he wanted to reach out, to hold her close and whisper apologies into the void between them, but the weight of his own guilt kept him rooted to the spot, helpless to ease her pain. her accusations pierced his soul, each one a reminder of the mistakes he had made, the walls he had built around himself to keep her out. he had never meant to hurt her, never intended for their love to unravel so completely, but now it seemed as though he had shattered something irreparable. "why didn't you just let me help you?" her words echoed in his mind, a haunting refrain that filled him with a sense of shame. he wanted to tell her that he had tried, that he had fought tooth and nail to keep her at arm's length, but the truth hung heavy on his tongue, suffocated by his own fears and insecurities. as she spoke of putting his happiness before her own, he felt a lump form in his throat, a bitter reminder of the sacrifices she had made for him. he wanted to tell her that she deserved better, that she deserved someone who could love her the way she deserved to be loved, but the words died on his lips, choked by his own self-loathing. and as she lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes searching his for a glimmer of warmth that he knew he could never give her, he felt his heart break all over again. he wanted to tell her that he didn't deserve her forgiveness, that he didn't deserve a second chance, but the words caught in his throat, silenced by the weight of his own remorse. "i'm sorry, lacey," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out to touch her face, his fingers trembling against her skin. "i never meant to hurt you...- i never wanted any of this to happen." but even as he spoke, he knew that his words would never be enough to mend the shattered pieces of their love. and as he watched her tears fall like rain, her heartache etched into every line of her face, he knew that he had already broken her heart beyond repair. ''i really wish i didn't have to do this, i promise. but - we can't make this work whenever we're together, let alone when we're thousands of miles away from each other.''

unsaid and bottled up feelings came out like sharp glass leaving lacey in a fragile state. realization hits that no matter what, she’d probably never get over him — never get over at the possibility of being something great together. she’s aware that he’s didn’t meant to hurt her, she could sense it in the way he’s looking at her — those desperate looming eyes and it just brings on more pain. the pain of losing a connection that shine brighter than all the stars. they had that everlasting type of relationship, one that seems so timeless until the burst of the bubble. reality slaps her in the face, that maybe perhaps she meant nothing to him. countless nights where she wondered if she was the issue, wondering how one minute they were on top of the world and then the next she was dropped. “why didn’t you just let me help you? why? why did you have to push me away. make me feel like i’m some burden.” streams of tears falls down her cheeks, throat burns and her stomach aches. “that’s the thing though… if given a second chance i wouldn’t change a thing. i will always put your own happiness before me.” that’s why she didn’t put much of a fight when he suddenly pulled back, but now there was no holding back. she needed to express those feelings to understand him fully. lifting her gaze upon his, eyes searched his trying to find that warmth in them, except it’s only filled with sadness. inhaling, this was her one chance at chasing for what she wants. “i’m giving you one last chance… please don’t break my heart again.”

[voxmortuus]

I have a Ivar the boneless request. Ivar and reader are not a couple. They flew into a small town with an airport on the same evening. The weather gets really bad so all flights are canceled and they have to stay at the same hotel. There is a fire or some hail or whatever breaks the readers window so she has to be out in the hall and she can’t go back to her room but it’s late so she’s in her nightgown and Ivar sees her. He offers her to come stay in his room. And stuff…Use this how you like but make it smutty! Please and thank you lady!

PAIRING: Modern!Ivar x F!Reader

UNIVERSE: Vikings AU

WORDS: 1.1k

SUMMARY/PROMPT: See above <3

Trigger Warning(s): Angst | Fire in isolated area | Smut | Unprotected Vaginal Intercourse | Oral Ejaculation | Primal Ivar | Dominant Ivar | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…

NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, I'm hoping this finds you well love! SMUT UNDER THE CUT.

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

My Master Masterlist | Taglist

REQUESTS: 500 FOLLOWER EVENT REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN UNTIL AUGUST 15TH!

Sitting in the shuttle bus on your way to the hotel. You let out a heavy sigh, looking outside at the rain beating against the road, the trees almost horizontal, you look down at your phone. A text from your partner had really put you on edge, but it wasn't that you could control the weather. You let out a soft breath, rubbing your forehead, and finally, respond.

I'm sorry. It isn't my fault my flight was canceled. You're going to have to do the presentation without me. Or at least have me on the phone speaker. I'm sorry, Jane. Truly.

"Fuck." You muttered to yourself. Rubbing your lip again, the man next to you looks at you.

"Hey, you alright?" A long-haired man asked you

"Yeah, just, important meeting that I have to miss thanks to the weather."

"Ahh, yeah. No fun. I'm sure they will be alright without you." He reassures.

You smile and nod, hoping he was right.

You held power in your job. You were VP of a multi-billion dollar production company- you had a lot on your shoulders. You place your phone in your lap, and a few minutes go by, and it goes off again with a hugging gif and an 'Okay, boss.'

Pulling up to the hotel, you get out and walk to the desk. "Hello, and welcome to the Hilton! Are you staying?"

"Umm, yeah, the airport sent a bunch of us this way, our plane was canceled due to weather?"

"Okay, not a problem! Name?"

"Your First & Last."

"Aaaaaalright Ms. Y/LN. You're all set, Room 103. If you need anything, don't hesitate to give us a call."

"Um, yeah. Thank you." You give a small smile.

Finding your room was easy. Getting in, you look around and let out a heavy breath. Tossing your carry-on bag onto the bed you, sit at the small table and put your head in your hands, and let out a loaded breath. It was going to be a hell of a night, and you weren't looking forward to a bit of it.

Sometime later, you were jolted awake by the sound of your window breaking, scattering glass all over the floor. The rain had turned to hail, and the wind was so bad a tree limb was thrown into your window. You step out into the hall in your nightgown, shaking your head. "Fuck me."

The man from the bus spots you in the hallway walking to you; he looks into your room and notices that the window is shattered. He looks you over, licking his lips- he looks back at the room, walking in, he grabs your belongings and makes sure everything is out of there, clean and clear. With your bag and phone in one hand, he grabs your wrist, and you yank back.

"Excuse me."

"You're going to come stay in my room."

"Are you asking me or telling me? The hotel owes me a room."

"You're standing here, in-" He gestures to your black silky, lacey, short nightgown. "that, you go ahead down to the front, or you can bite your CEO pride and stay the night with me."

"VP... not CEO..."

"Close enough. You coming?" He asked.

Crossing your arms, you follow, at first, you questioned how he knew you were what you were, but then you realized, when he gathered your things, small details like that were on some of your stuff. With your jaw clenched, you followed behind him.

"That's it, boss lady. Let's go."

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes a bit as you follow behind him and close the door behind you. "One bed?"

"Yup, one bed."

"Lovely." You let out a soft sigh and get in bed, sleeping on the very edge of the king-sized bed.

He climbs in bed and lays on his back, his arm behind his head. He looks over at you a moment. "Do you always have to control everything?"

"I am a woman of power... so yeah. I guess so."

"Want to see what it's like without power? Experience something new in your life?"

"What do you mean?" You ask.

He rolls over and places his hand on your back. When you don't push away, he moves it to your hip. Nothing. He smirks, and wraps his strong arms around you, and pulls you close. At first, you are tense, and then you melt against him.

"I see... If you think you can handle that." You chuckle softly. You turn over and roll him back onto his back and get on top straddling his hips, looking over this stranger's face. You move your hips a bit feeling him stiffen under you as he pushes his ups up against yours. With a chuckle, he literally rips the panties from you, the fabric brushing against your bud made you bite your lip, he moves his sweatpants down just enough to slip into you.

You let out a soft moan, biting your lip, your hands rest on his chest as you begin to rock your hips. He let you get away with this for a bit, but after a few moments, he noticed you were just using him for one thing, he knew you would get off, rollover, and fall asleep. Not tonight.

He grabbed your wrists, and rolled you over, and pinned you down. "No, I'm in control, you don't have power right now." He smirked. "Let go." He muttered over your lip as he kept your hands pinned above your head in one hand while the other gripped at you, feeling you under his fingertips. He growled softly as he started to thrust into you, pulling your leg up to get at a right angle.

Thrusting harder, and faster your body shook. He started to slow down a bit, holding you under him he pulled you to the edge of the bed. Standing he lifted your legs and used your body any way he desired, bending you, twisting you. Your moans escalated, echoed through the room. Your hands gripped at the bed. The only thing you could manage to mutter out. was. "Fuck, Sir, you feel so good." You didn't know what happened it just escaped.

This only fueled him. He wanted to feel your finish. He wanted to feel you explode all over his cock, and he told you just that.

"Cum, now." Not second-guessing it you released upon demand.

He was quick to pull out of you and get you on your knees sticking his cock in your mouth and released. His head fell back, running his hand through his long hair when he brought his head back down to look at you he smirked. "Good girl." He praised as he watched you swallow.

Looking over his face you stood up and smiled. "Thank you." You whispered. You made your way to lay in the bed and looked over him as he climbed in bed.

"What's your name?" You ask him.

"Ivar."

"I will remember that, I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you."

"Oh trust me girl, pleasure is all mine." He chuckled.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Family Bonds

Chapter 61: Alternate Lifestyles

That sewing machine was quite possibly the best decision that he'd ever made in his long life. It wasn't just a gift that helped endear him to Lacey, it was a gift that granted him the unexpected gift of blessed peace.

He'd been right in his predictions that she'd take to it, but he hadn't expected her to throw herself into it half as much as she had, to immediately pull clothes from Belle's closet, to take measurements, to start sketching, and return to her machine…wearing that?!

When he'd first arrived, she'd been wearing a bathrobe and in his mind, he'd just expected her to continue to wear that robe as she worked until she had something she was happy enough to put on. He did not expect her to come prancing into the living wearing one of his own button-down shirts. The sight of it had shocked him enough that he'd dropped the glass of water he'd been holding, and it shattered on the ground. She'd smirked, proud of herself, but it had very little to do with the fact that she was clad in damn near nothing and everything to do with the fact that she'd put it on when Belle would never have done such a thing. It wasn't bad, he wouldn't have minded if Belle did it, she had every bit of Lacey's beauty and with legs like that, he probably would have started drooling over himself. But the fact that she'd be so bold as to change into that instead of staying in the bathrobe…

He took a deep breath as she'd sat down to work, and he cleaned up the shards of glass. It was nothing. He didn't know why it bothered him so much, but he knew he shouldn't let it. She was in his shirt, but she was otherwise occupied. She had a glass of wine nearby, but other than the occasional sip she spent most of her time drawing, cutting, pinning, and sewing. He remained quiet as much as he could while she worked, rejoicing in the silence. If he had to spend this much time with Lacey, it was the best way to spend it. As the hours passed part of him thought that this might be the entire day and he would not for a single second be disappointed in it. But as afternoon began the fade into evening he watched as she took what she'd been working on and went back into the bedroom. When she returned, she'd rid himself of his shirt and was wearing a skirt that was significantly shorter than he knew anything in Belle's closet ever had been and…well…he supposed he could call it a sweater. It was made of a fabric that should have held onto her head and had long sleeves, but she'd cut so much of it out that he wasn't entirely sure it served that purpose anymore. She might have shown less leaving the apartment in his dress shirt.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked with a smile as she flung her arms out to show off the entire thing.

He took a steadying breath. "You look-"

"Great right," she filled in before he could think of a proper adjective that was neither lie nor insult. He did not mind the interruption. But then, as she moved her hands down over Belle's curves, she looked back up at him, walked over, and took his hands, forcing them around her waist. "What do you think?" she asked again, looking at him in a way that let him know this time she was going to wait for an answer. This time he'd have to have something to say; something neither lie nor insult…thank the gods he was good with words.

"I think I should have believed you when you said you could make your own clothes."

"Well, I'm glad you see the error of your ways," she paused with a small blush. "You know…I think we should go out tonight, maybe stop at the Rabbit Hole, show these innocent townsfolk what real class and power look like."

That was an interesting suggestion, not to mention an interesting motivation that sparked his curiosity. "This is what power and class look like?"

"With the right attitude it does," she whispered before leaning forward and kissing him. It wasn't just one kiss, wasn't just twice, but three times. She wanted more, he'd been with enough women in his life to know when more was desired, but he couldn't bring himself to go further. And she knew it. She smiled when she pulled away, but it didn't have half the interest she'd had half a moment ago or any of the joy that she'd shown when she'd been given the sewing machine. He had to do better. Kisses weren't working on her yet and so he had to keep trying. Whether or not he felt interest for her, he needed to at least pretend better.

"I'll get my coat and we can…shit!" she exclaimed loudly as her eyes widened.

"Lacey?" he questioned as she stepped away suddenly looking around the apartment for something in a flurry. "Lacey, what's-"

"I have to run over to Modern Fashions like…now!" she shouted at him as she kept searching the apartment. He swallowed looking her up and down. She wanted to wear that…out?!

"Modern Fashions?"

"It's across the street from Granny's diner-"

"I know where it is, it's down the street from my shop."

"I used to work there," she explained pulling the coat that she'd worn yesterday free. "I borrowed this coat for last night and promised to return it this morning before Nike got in and could notice…" She nervously ran her fingers through her hair before turning and checking the clock. "Which would have been hours ago! Dammit!" she swore stepping into her shoes. "Come on, we have to go!"

She grabbed his hand and was pulling him out of the apartment before he could truly process what she was saying and the meaning of it. Modern Fashion…they were going there because she worked there, or at least thought that she worked there. That was where she'd taken her clothes from yesterday, he did not know how that would have gone given that no one would have memories of her, and Belle had never worked there at all. As she walked in with him, he was suddenly nervous for her. How had she made all this work yesterday without him?

He knew how. She'd done it by being such a fast talker that no one else could process what she was doing. When she entered one of Cinderella's stepsisters was behind the register. Lacey spoke to her as if she'd known her all her life and followed it up with actions that were confident. Why wouldn't her words and actions be confident, as far as she knew she had been in here her entire life.

"Hey," she exclaimed to Kimberly. "I promised I'd return this and I'm sorry it's late, but it was just one of those nights if you know what I mean."

Kimberly shook her head as she looked down at the coat she shrugged off her shoulders and placed on the counter between them. "What the…" Kimberly shook her head and took in the sight before her and that was when her eyes landed on him. He heard her heartbeat skip a small beat as a flash of fear went through her. "Mr. Gold…"

"Miss Tremaine," he nodded. "How is your dear mother?"

"She's fine. Just fine," she swallowed. She was confused both by what was going on with Belle and why she was around, but he was a face that she knew. How she'd gotten through yesterday, he wasn't sure. But if his presence today could help get Lacey through without realizing things were too far off, then he'd do it.

"And still no word on your beloved sister? How long has she been missing now?" he paused to let Kimberly's mouth move up and down a bit, speechless at his questions which undoubtedly caused more than a few emotions. "And your niece? Growing every day I'd imagine."

"Well, a-actually we ha-haven't-"

But before she could confess to still not meeting her step-niece a door in the back hallway could be heard opening and closing and before he knew it he was confronted with a face he hadn't seen in years, not since she'd made a deal with him in the Enchanted Forest.

"Drizella, I have to run home, one of the kids called and it sounds like they-Mr. Gold!"

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Ledershue," he breathed when she stopped dead at the sight of him. "I trust business is profitable. At least I hope it is for your sake."

Though probably not if Lacey had come in and stolen clothes yesterday.

"It's fine," she answered looking from him to Kimberly and Lacey at the counter and then back again. "I'll have the rent for you on time this month."

Oh…how convenient, she wanted him gone almost as much as he wanted to get Lacey out of here. He could make that happen.

"Oh, I've no doubt you will, Dearie," he assured her taking a few steps closer. "But I'm more curious about last month's rent, the rent I generously gave you two more weeks to gather."

"I'll have it ready for you next time."

"Now, Dearie," he smiled, "that wasn't the agreement we made. If memory serves me correctly, you promised you'd have the money three days ago."

"I thought that with you gone and, well…things in town being what they are-"

"I'd forgotten?" he assumed before chuckling at her. "Oh, well I never forget a deal, Dearie, surely you haven't forgotten that. How are your children?"

Nike Ledershue swallowed hard at his friendly reminder. Or unfriendly reminder if she-

A thrill shot through him unexpectedly; a familiar sensation that sent shock waves through him. Someone was in the library, someone with magic, someone with Regina's magic. Every instinct in his body was to get out, to leave, to go find out what the fuck Regina was doing sneaking around in the library. In front of Nike and Drizella it would have been nothing, but in front of Lacey…he had to get them out of here. Now.

"Remind me again how many you have?" he questioned, pressing forward and trying to ignore the sensation. The sooner they were out of here, the sooner he could check on it. "It must be ten, twelve, fourteen? All to replace-"

"What do you want?" she snapped before he could finish that thought. Good, if she wasn't committed to getting them out the door before she certainly would have been now. And he was certain he'd made this so awkward that Kimberly would want them gone as well. As for Lacey, she enjoyed shows of power, he felt certain that she'd enjoy this then. Of course, at the moment he knew better than to look over at her, so he kept his gaze on Nike. What did he want?

"Well, I would think that would be obvious-"

"I don't have the money on me."

"Then what do you have?"

He watched as she looked around the room, her eyes falling on Kimberly as well as Lacey. Then, suddenly she moved closer to the register.

"Move, Drizella," she demanded as she opened the register. He risked a glance at Lacey and caught her brows furrowed in confusion. "Drizella," Nike had called her. Here she was known as "Kimberly", which was the name the curse would have provided Belle for the woman, had she noticed the wrong name being used? Was that the source of her confusion? He really needed to get her out of here, away from the public, and somewhere more private.

"There," Nike suddenly reached across the counter to hand a stack of bills to him. "That's half of what we owe you. We can give the rest the next time we pay rent. Is that all?"

A deal half served then. Considering his company was half-clothed…no, it was not all.

"Not quite," he growled as he took the money from her then collected the coat that Lacey had been using since yesterday. "Lacey…" he handed it to her and turned back to the woman suddenly feeling more like a crook robbing a bank than he ever had. "That's a good faith payment. I'm certain that you'll have it all in a couple of weeks the next time I stop by."

"I will," the woman promised.

"Perfect!" he smiled. "Then there will be no more need for pleasant chats like this in the future. Am I right, Mrs. Ledershue?"

She offered a curt nod.

"I look forward to the next time we meet. Have a nice day, Dearie."

[bakubabes-tatakae]

Hello! Can I request some Kiba x fem!reader smut? Kiba and reader are best friends and reader is very popular with the guys but she's insecure about dating because she thinks most guys just want her for sex and she's a virgin, so one day she and Kiba are talking about it and reader proposes that she and Kiba lose their virginities to each other because she knows they won't regret it since they're besties. But Kiba and reader secretly have feels for each other so it's super fluffy? Thank you :)

This might be the longest request I’ve ever done. But our boy Kiba deserves it. ❤😍 I hope you like it. You’re so welcome. 

First Times || {NSFW} Kiba x Reader

AO3 Link

Word Count: 1.7k

Kiba couldn’t stand the way the other guys in the village were with you. Every single one of them thought that they stood a chance with you. It angered him more than it should have. 

He could never let go of the feelings that he had felt for you, and he had hoped that you felt that same way. But he could never find the courage. When he had met you at the academy when the two of you were eight years old you had grown inseparable. 

Now it was twelve years later and the two of you were still as inseparable as ever. 

He had never worked up the courage to tell you exactly what he had always wanted too. He had always wanted to tell you that he was in love with you. He wanted to tell you that no matter what happened he wanted to be the person that you ended up with. Kiba wanted to tell you that he had been in love with you for twelve years now, that he had been saving himself for you. But he just couldn’t do it. 

You could never tell him that you felt the same. You could never tell him that since the first day that the two of you had met he had been the only thing that you ever thought about. Kiba was the person that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with as well, but you were too frightened of being rejected, that you never said anything. 

You knew that a lot of the guys in the village just wanted to get into your pants and you were afraid that even the good guys felt the same way. 

As you thought to yourself you heard a familiar barking coming from behind you. When you turned around you saw a happily bouncing Akamaru coming toward you. When the ninja hound made his way to you he jumped up, his paws landing on your shoulders. Akamaru was taller than you when he stood on all fours. As a bark came from the hound you heard another familiar sound coming from behind him. 

“Akamaru, I know you’re excited to see her, but get down.” Kiba’s hand was behind his head, nervously scratching as he watched his dog nearly knock you down.

Akamaru hopped down and went to stand next to Kiba. 

“Kiba!” You ran to him and he wrapped you into his arms. You took in the familiar smell of the Inuzuka boy and you were hesitant to let go. It had always felt so safe in his arms. 

He let you go and crossed his arms. “What are you doing tonight? I was thinking about bringing some ramen over and having dinner and a movie. We haven’t had a movie night in a while.”

You smiled at the thought of it. “I’d love to have a movie night Kiba.”

He gave you a thumbs up and looked down at Akamaru. “Then Akamaru and I are going to go hit the store and get everything that we need and I’ll meet you at your place around six?”

“Six works for me.” You chuckled at his enthusiasm and watched as the two of them bolted away. 

* * * * * * 

A knock on your door caused you to turn around and jump some. You looked at the clock and realized what time it was. You spoke softly to yourself. “Kiba…” You were already picturing the man before you opened the door. 

His excited smile greeted you as you held it open. “Good evening milady.” He bowed and held a bottle of champagne out to you. 

You grasped the bottle and held it. “You even brought champagne? What a gentleman.” 

He followed you in and shut the door behind him. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. You had only been in a baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, but you still looked as beautiful as you always did. 

You allowed him to start dinner while you set everything up for the movie. As he moved swiftly through the kitchen preparing everything you found your gaze lingering on him. You had never realized how at home Kiba looked in the kitchen. When he approached with two bowls of ramen that looked almost to delectable to eat you smiled. He placed them on the coffee table and poured you each a glass of wine as you both sat on the couch. 

He held his glass to yours. “To best friends and always having each other’s backs. Forever.”

You clinked them together. “Yes, I one hundred percent agree with that. Forever Kiba.”

As the two of you ate dinner and drank your champagne it felt like home. Just being in each other’s company made you both feel at ease. The more champagne the two of you drank the more confident Kiba was getting. 

Before you even knew what was happening Kiba’s arm slowly made its way over your shoulder. You didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into him, resting your head on him. But you wanted more, your own confidence was building with every sip of your drink as well. You turned your head to Kiba and watched him, he hadn’t noticed you staring yet so you made your move. 

You reached a hand up and touched his cheek. As he looked down at you, you slowly turned your body, and before he could object you straddled his lap. As your lips slowly moved toward his you saw his eyes grow wide, but as your lips touched the hunger in his kiss became evident. 

Kiba’s hand slid down to your waist and held your hips. You grasped his shirt in your hands and pulled him as close to you as you could. His hands grabbed the bottom of your shirt and slowly lifted it over your head. As his eyes befell on the lacey bra that you had been wearing under the shirt he licked his lips.

Your hands gripped the zipper of his jacket, pulling it down and helping him take his arms out of it, leaving him in his tank top. He grabbed his own tank top and yanked it over his head, throwing it haphazardly to the side. 

Kiba’s strong arms wrapped around you as he lifted you off the couch, allowing you to wrap your legs around his torso. As you clutched your body around him he walked toward your bedroom, lowering you to the edge of the bed and loitering over you, never once letting his lips leave yours. 

“Kiba… please.” You pleaded with him as you felt the bulge in his pants pushing against your leg. “Touch me.”

His hand pushed the hair in your face back. “Are you sure you want to do this Y/n?”

You grabbed his hand and slowly ran it down your chest, stopping as it reached your throbbing cunt. “I need you Kiba.”

That was all it took. Kiba knew he had never done this before, and neither had you, but it was time to learn. His hand trailed into your shorts, hesitant that he would do something wrong. He rubbed his finger over your panties. “You’re so wet for me darling.” There was a rasp behind his voice. “How long have you been holding this back?”

You whined as his fingers met your clit, slowly rubbing circles around it as he watched you arch into his touch. It was so much different when another person was in control. His fingers finally entered your sex and his name rolled off your tongue. 

His own erection was getting painful against his pants. He had to finish this quickly or he wouldn’t be able to control himself anymore. His other hand rubbed against your clit and the stimulation had you nearing your release quickly. He could feel your walls tightening against his digits and sped up, hoping to get you there any second. Your walls clamped down against his fingers and a loud moan filled the room as you felt yourself come undone under his touch. 

A low growl left Kiba as he pulled his fingers out, holding them up so that you could see your slick upon them. He licked his fingers clean and slowly undid his belt. “You’re one hundred percent sure you want to do this Y/n?”

You nodded, still reeling from the orgasm that had just shattered your world. You felt his erection against your leg as he lined up with your entrance. He slowly thrust into you and pain sent a shock through you, but once that pain was over it was nothing but bliss. When he noticed the pain in your face he stopped. You whined. “I’m fine Kiba. Keep going.”

He obeyed and thrust in and out of you. The feeling of your wet cunt was almost too much for him to handle. “You’re so tight Y/n. I don’t know how long I’m going to last.” 

You threw your head back against the pillows and arched your back, trying to get him as far in your core as he could. 

“So good for me. So perfect.” A few small grunts left his lips as he tried to hold his composure. You leaned forward into his chest as you could feel another orgasm coming. As your walls closed around his cock his pace quickened. “I’m almost there Y/n.”

His name rolled off your tongue again as your second climax pulsed through you. The feeling of your slick coating his cock caused a moan to leave him as he released into your quivering pussy. “I love you Y/n.” 

He collapsed on top of you as you tried to catch you breathe. You were still trying to wrap your head around what he had just said. When you were silent he looked back up at you, worried about what you might have to say, but when you opened your mouth his worry washed away. “I love you, too, Kiba.”

He rolled over onto his back and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into him. The only thing he could say made you chuckle. “Wow.”

You looked over at him. “Stay the night?”

He looked back over at you and smiled. “Yea, I’d love to.”

And the rest of your night you spent in his arms. Not worried about the world around you. Finally able to get out what the two of you had wanted to say to each other for the longest time. Finally able to have the person that you had each wanted to spend the rest of your life within each other's grips. It was the most peaceful sleep the two of you had gotten in a long time. 

Naruto Content Taglist 💕 @chidori-mint @praisingkuroosbedhead @korianrdr @excitedlysuffering @kakashishan @rubysroom @kurobo @uhhh-hatake @ari-hatake15 @siesel @blackkacchan

[queenlists]

Collision

Summary: Dean has put the reader through hell and soon enough became enough. The reader found herself with someone else..someone very close to Dean.

A/N: I finally finished the sequel to trainwreck done! If you haven’t read part one then click here. I hope you all are staying safe. I love you all and I appreciate all of the support! I really hope you enjoy this ✌ masterlist

Word Count: 1244

Post Date: 06/03/2020

SPN Tag List: @morguleth​ @yeolliedokai​

“We were happy,”

“Dean, no!” I laughed out, holding my hands up in defense watching Dean stalk closer to me. A mischievous smirk crossed his face as he held up a piece of my birthday cake. “Do not do it!” I warned, backing up until I hit a hard body. I looked behind me to see a smiling Sam looking down at me “I’m sorry, Y/n,” Sam held me still. "No, no! Don't do this! Don't d-" my giggling plead was cut short as Dean smashed the cake in my face. Chuckles erupting from the brothers as Dean smeared the cake all over my body.�� “You guys are assholes!” I gasped, giggling and wiping the cake from my eyes. “Here,” Sam began to clean me up with a warm, wet washcloth. Dean leaned over, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek once Sam turned around, whispering “Happy birthday, beautiful” in my ear.

“I trusted him against my better judgement,”

“Your date left her clothes here. Lacey underwear? She must be a keeper, huh?” I joked as I sat down Sam’s freshly cleaned clothes on his dresser. “Huh?” Sam’s eye twitched as he watched me pull out a pair of underwear and a dress. “Those aren’t from me. Probably the chick Dean brought here a few nights ago,” “Huh?” my heart dropped to my stomach as Sam stood up and began to nonchalantly put his clothes away. “You didn’t see her. It was the weekend you went to chase down a lead. She was nice...and loud. Unnecessarily loud,” Sam grumbled, rolling his eyes “Thank you for doing laundry, Y/n" Sam looked at me with a dimpled smile.

Rushing into Dean’s room, I threw the clothes at him “You cheated on me?” Dean didn’t bother to look at the clothes before looking up at me “You really think I would cheat on you, Y/n?” “Well I don’t bring anyone here and Sam told me these belonged to the girl you brought over while I was away!” I grit my teeth as I shook my head at him in disbelief. 

“If you don’t believe me then leave. Leave right now if you don’t believe me!” Dean raised his voice which startled me a little bit. “I-” I opened my mouth, but nothing came out as I stood there in shock. “Do you believe me?” Dean growled, stepping closer to me, his eyes peered down at me as he waited for my response.

 The energy that rolled off of him wasn't the same as before, his voice as well as his gaze were both cold and sharp. A rare sense of fear washed over me as Dean towered over me.  “I-I believe you,” I whimpered, staring at my boyfriend’s hard face. Dean's eyes searched mine. I had only seen this look whenever he was looking at a monster. Slowly, the sides of his mouth curled up into a smile before he pressed his lips against my forehead "Good girl,"

“I should have known because from that point on he just got worse. Now look at us,” I snorted, shaking my head. Sam’s fingers drew circles on my shoulder as he sighed “He didn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve you. You deserve a man not a boy,” I looked up at Sam who shot me a warm, genuine smile.

Sam’s POV

“We were happy..” Y/n has been venting about Dean since we both finished which was...hours ago, but I could listen to her all day. All day and every day. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. I'd rather her confide in me versus drinking herself into oblivion. My brother didn’t deserve someone like Y/n. Since Dean was marked, he's done nothing but hurt people. I should have stepped in.

When we first met her, she was so quiet..so kind...so innocent. Despite the condition we found her in, her eyes were bright and her smile full of life. Hell she didn't even drink before meeting us.

“I’ve had a few sips here and there!” Y/n lifted her hands up in defense as she giggled. “You’re telling me that you never just drank a beer. Just something like this?” Dean lifted up his second beer bottle, his eyebrows raised. “Nope!” “Looks like we have a good girl over here that needs to be broken in,” Dean smirked before putting the glass bottle to his lip and guzzling the liquid down. Y/n chewed on her lip as she watched Dean drink, desperate for approval "I'll try one. I'll try to drink one and we will go from there,"

She drank one. One turned to two. Two to three. Three to four. Four to...

Vomit spewed out of Y/n's mouth into the toilet as I held her hair back "You don't have to drink. You don't have to do anything. You're pretty amazing as is," I smiled, watching the corners of Y/n's mouth turn up into a gentle smile. "Let's get you home," I slowly helped Y/n get back onto her feet. Her hand stayed in mine as she stumbled out of the bathroom, leading me through the bar and out the door.

I scanned the bar until I laid eyes on Dean, I glared as Y/n and I walked out of the bar. Before he became out of sight, Dean gave me the cockiest smirk I've seen in years. He knew what he was up to. Hell, I know what he was up to. I vowed to take care of her.

But I failed that.

“He didn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve you. You deserve a man not a boy,” I sighed, watching as Y/n slowly looked up at me. I couldn't help but to smile as my heart skipped a few beats.I stroked my thumb across Y/n's face, wiping away a stray tear as I stared into her mesmerizing (e/c) eyes. She crinkled up her nose as she smiled at me, her bright smile lighting the room up. I could lose myself in her forever.

Y/N'S POV

I never noticed how handsome Sam was. Well of course I noticed his appearance but not the way he made me feel. Not the way my stomach twisted into loose knots. The way a smile threatened to escape every time I looked at him while he looked at me. The way I felt: protected, secure, valid. I haven't felt valid in...in…

Tears filled my eyes as I searched for a specific moment I've recently felt valid, valued, safe. I swam in my thoughts, rushing around for one moment in the past few months that I've felt wholesome. One moment where I was touched with love and only love. One moment when my body was warmed by another and not a brown liquid.

Nothing.

There was nothing.

Nothing until now.

Tears spilling out of my eyes, I looked at Sam who's eyebrows were knitted together as he sat up with concern. "All this time," I whispered to myself as a smile peeked on my face. He was there. He was always there picking up the pieces that Dean shattered over and over again.

Without hesitation, I crashed my lips onto his soft lips. His fingers instantly tangled in my hair as he pulled me further on top of him, squeezing me against his body.

He was the one all along.

[emospritelet]

Heatstroke - chapter 6

Let’s pretend the lake is clean and in no way full of leeches...

[AO3]

x

The events of Saturday evening had left Gold conflicted. Throwing a drink over Lacey had initially made him feel a sort of smug satisfaction, but on the journey home he began to experience a twinge of regret. He rarely lost his composure, even in the face of extreme provocation, and he was uncomfortable with the idea of someone getting under his skin so much that it caused him to act out of character. Ordinarily he would have returned home and drunk a couple of whiskies while reading a good book, but instead he packed an overnight bag, along with a few food items, and drove out to the cabin that he owned in the midst of the woods. A night away from Storybrooke, and the memories of recent awkward interactions, would be welcome.

The cabin was as cool and restful as always, and he made himself a small meal of bread, cheese and sliced apples, eaten with a glass of cold white wine out on the back porch overlooking the lake. Insects buzzed in the air, but the citronella candles kept them away from him for the most part. Gold took a sip of wine, thinking over his altercation in the bar.

Knowing the young woman’s first name made it easy to make some enquiries into her identity, and he had made one or two phone calls while he sat there, and done a couple of online searches until he had some answers. Her name was Lacey French, she was twenty-six, and she had moved to Storybrooke from New York to take up a journalist post with the Storybrooke Mirror. Quite why she wanted to pursue journalism in a small town rather than the city was unclear, and Gold had learned to be suspicious of anomalies. His wealth and power had made him enemies, and while he knew that everything he did was entirely legal—one of the reasons he had so little patience with those that failed to honour their agreements—that didn’t stop people looking for something that wasn’t there. She didn’t appear to be poking her nose in anywhere it didn’t belong so far, though. Unless you counted his back garden.

He set down his glass, using his forefinger to pick up crumbs of cheese and eat them. Whatever the reason Miss French was in Storybrooke, it was probably nothing to do with him. He just needed to ignore her as best he could, and hope she ignored him in turn. The last thing he needed was to lose his head over a beautiful woman.

Gold blinked, straightening up, his heart thumping. Where the hell did that thought come from? Okay, she’s beautiful, anyone can see that - anyone who isn’t blind, anyway - but she’s a bloody disaster! I am absolutely not losing my head over her! I’m not losing anything! Except maybe my dignity.

He shook his head, pushing the plate away and drinking the last of his wine. Time to go to bed before his imagination really got him in trouble.

x

Sunday was Gold’s day to unwind. It was the one day he kept the shop closed, and used the time to catch up on jobs in the house, or to read and relax. The previous Sunday, he had decided to sunbathe in the garden, but given how that had ended, he was pleased that he had chosen to come to the cabin. It was a welcome retreat into nature and solitude, and waking up to the sound of birdsong and the whisper of leaves was soothing to a mind that was constantly thinking and planning and fretting. He threw back the covers, walking through to the kitchen and putting on a pot of coffee. The early morning sunshine was already sending dappled light through the trees, and he left the coffee brewing, walking out onto the back porch and breathing deeply. The air was beginning to lose the chill of the night, and Gold looked out over the lake that lapped at the wooden decking at the foot of the steps. It was cool and tranquil, and looked inviting, so he went inside to grab a towel, taking off the loose pants he slept in and walking naked to the back door and down to the lake

Cold water was an invigorating shock to warm skin, and his head burst through the surface, tendrils of weed stroking his shoulders like a lover’s caress. Gold swam across the lake and back in long, slow strokes, enjoying the weightlessness of his body in the water, his leg relieved of the pain of standing. A dip in the lake, followed by a hot shower and a pot of good coffee. It was a good way to start the day.

After a few lengths he swam back to the deck and climbed out of the lake, water pouring off his body and his skin tingling from the chill. The wooden boards of the deck felt warm in comparison, and he grasped the towel and drew up his knees, drying himself off quickly before towelling his hair. Dappled sunlight provided a little warmth, and he grabbed the cane and pushed to his feet, looking out over the lake again and enjoying the feel of the light breeze against his naked skin. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply and drawing the clean scent of the forest into his lungs, and felt a sense of peace steal over him.

“Oh my God!”

Gold’s eyes flew open, and he almost stumbled and fell before he found his balance, his hand getting a death grip on the cane handle. Across the lake, staring at him incredulously, was the lithe figure of Lacey French. She was dressed in a pair of purple running tights and a matching crop top, her hair tied up on her head and her chest heaving with either exertion or outrage. Possibly both.

“I don’t fucking believe this!” she announced, gesturing at him.

“What are you doing?” he snapped, and she put her hands on her hips.

“Duh? I’m running?” She flapped her hands up and down herself before pointing an accusing finger at him. “Why are you naked? Again!”

“Why are you here?” he demanded, jabbing a finger at his feet.

“You do realise there’s a trail here, right?” she said, and wrinkled her nose at him. “Are you gonna cover up, or what?”

Gold had been thinking about wrapping the towel around himself, but at her words he clenched his jaw and met her eyes insolently, leaning on the cane a little harder and letting his hip swing outward. The movement made his cock bounce.

“Oh, man!” Lacey shielded her eyes with a hand and turned away. “I don’t believe this…”

“Why don’t you just keep running, then?” he said waspishly. “I fail to see why I should be inconvenienced on my own property. Again!” 

He mimicked her affronted tone, head wobbling from side to side. Lacey turned back to face him, hands going to hips. He watched her eyes flick briefly to his groin and back up.

“Look, Gold, I just went into your damn garden to get my cat back!” she said hotly. “I didn’t know I lived next door to a bloody naturist!”

“So you just thought you’d throw a gin and tonic at my crotch, did you?” he snapped, hand flicking outwards.

“Oh my God, for the last time, it was the cat!” she shouted. “It wasn’t me! He was sitting on the table next to you and he knocked the glass off! I tried to get to him before he could do it but I was too slow! Be mad at me for that if you have to be, but he was the one that threw a drink at your balls, not me!”

Gold had opened his mouth to say something cutting, but closed it again. Oh.

“And the second time, when I did throw a drink at you, you kind of deserved it!” she added, and he found his voice again, feeling himself swell with indignation.

“For fuck’s sake, woman, I didn’t steal your underwear!” he snapped. “I told you!”

She gave him a withering look.

“You expect me to believe my cat went on - on a campaign of taking you my panties?” 

“Well, it wasn’t bloody me!” he growled, and she tossed her head.

“Whatever. I’m out of here. Try to stop exposing yourself every five minutes, would you?”

She ran on, buttocks clenching pleasantly, and Gold glared after her.

“I’ll expose myself as often as I like on my own bloody property!” he shouted.

She didn’t look back, and he felt his nostrils flare, fists clenching. Well. Peace shattered.

x

Running with a hangover was a bad idea at the best of times, and coming across her neighbour stark naked didn't help. Still, he had provided an interesting distraction, and by the time Lacey had settled back into her run she could stop being indignant and start to see the funny side of her encounter in the woods. So much so that as she left the trails and joined the road into Storybrooke, she had to stop, doubling over and giggling madly. Wow, I almost feel sorry for the guy. If you can’t get your cock out on your own back porch, where can you?

She was still grinning to herself when she got back to the house, and she went to shower and dress before making herself eggs on toast and coffee and carrying it outside. She ate quickly, hungry from her run, and pushed the plate away before reaching for her coffee. The morning was pleasantly warm, and she thought it would be a hot day. It was fortunate she had gotten out of the door for her run early. In some respects.

Darcy was sunning himself on the grass, black fur tinged with reddish brown in the sunlight. Lacey glanced towards the drying rack where her latest load of laundry was hanging, reminding herself to check it was dry before she went back inside. She took a sip of coffee, enjoying the bitter taste that was mellowed by the cream and sugar she had added. Darcy looked up, catching her eye and getting to his feet before stretching and yawning, his tail curling over. He sauntered towards her, tail in the air, and stopped to sniff at the clean laundry hanging on the rack. Lacey took another sip of coffee. She was watching Darcy with half an eye as she mused over her plans for the day. The kitchen floor needed mopping, and she could unpack the rest of her things that were still in boxes, but other than that her time was her own. 

Her attention was caught by Darcy tugging at something, and glanced around, putting down her cup. Her eyes widened as he dragged a pair of coral-coloured lace panties from the rack and trotted off down the garden with them. Lacey bounced out of her chair.

“Hey!” she shouted, heading down the porch steps, and Darcy ran faster. 

She put on a burst of speed, but he squeezed through the hole in the fence before she could catch him. Swearing under her breath, Lacey ran around to the front of the house and through to the back garden. At least it was unlikely that Gold would be back anytime soon. She couldn’t see Darcy, and she looked around in vain, hands opening and closing, before a click from behind her made her turn. There was a cat flap in the kitchen door, and Darcy was sitting just outside it, watching her with his tail curled around his feet. There were no panties to be seen, and Lacey threw up her hands.

“You’re killing me!” she complained. “So it was you! And you just let me make a total idiot of myself accusing Mr Gold!”

Darcy bent his head to lick a forepaw, wholly unconcerned, and Lacey sighed.

“Great. So there’s a pair of panties in his house now, is there?” she said. “Well. I guess I’ll have to find some way to apologise. I don’t believe this!”

She scooped up Darcy and stomped off, listening to him purring contentedly against her chest. Anyone would think the little bugger planned this whole thing to embarrass me.

[lakinda5654]

Stains of Wine

—————————————————

One-Shot story of Loki x Reader. NSFW. This is my first one-shot, so please let me know if you like it. 

Contains: Smut. All the Smut. So much smut. Dirty talk, dom/sub

Word Count: 2,806

—————————————————

“Fuck!” you curse as the entire tray of red wine spills onto your white shirt and apron, the glasses falling to the floor, many of them shattering. Whoever just bumped into you was definitely at fault, as you had been walking straight without turning when they backed into you. 

“Watch where you’re going...” you mutter as you kneel to the floor to begin picking up the shards of glass. You said it mostly for self-satisfaction, not loudly enough for anyone at this A-List party to hear. 

“I was.” The voice is smooth and deep. 

Upon hearing a response to your comment, you look up, ready to apologize profusely... no one was supposed to hear that and you could easily be fired for such an attitude. But as you look up, the man kneels down in front of you.

He is one of the most attractive men you had ever laid eyes on. He isn’t stereotypically attractive- not like Captain America or any other of the men at this boring party. He is pale, but with jet black hair that reaches his shoulders. His entire suit matches that aesthetic, with not a drop of color but black to be found. The only colorful thing about him is his eyes- which pierce through your gaze in emerald green. He’s vaguely familiar...

You force yourself to stop staring. “I’m sorry sir, I was just- talking to myself.” 

“Oh- so you didn’t notice me intentionally back into you? Oh come now, I know you’re more observant than that darling.”

You stop your delicate hands cleaning up the shards of sharp glass for a moment. “You... you meant to run into me?” you ask him in confusion as you try to avoid being stepped on by the masses of dress shoes and heels making their way around you and your mess. 

He lets out a breathy, yet sexy chuckle. “Indeed I did...” he said it slowly, in a tone that expressed satisfaction... as if he was being rewarded for his efforts. You look up to see his devilish smile, and his eyes staring shamelessly at your wine covered breasts. 

Shit. You recall what you’re wearing... the catering company’s uniforms are so damn thin. The only bra you could wear under them without being seen was a thin bralette, and with the cold wine sticking to your skin and giving you chills at the moment, your nipples are quite easily seen. 

Well, he’s certainly blunt... you think as you realize what his intentions are. The way he so carelessly stares at you, as if he knows you won’t be offended by his crude actions. 

And why aren't you? Under any other circumstance, you would have slapped this perverse man across the face. But right now, you are blushing and you feel your heart speed up. 

He looks up at your eyes with eyebrows raised expectantly, his head tilted, waiting for a response to his comment. 

The way he stares at you with those eyes and that smirk- it’s intoxicating. You freeze and lose all ability to form words for a moment. You have to force yourself out of his stare, shaking your head and blinking away the high he just put you through. 

But when you look down, everything in the entire mess had vanished. The glass, the wine stain on the floor, the tray, all of it was gone. All except the wine on your white shirt. Dumbfounded, you look around and then back up at the man, who is now standing. 

“How... where did it-”

“Come now, you poor thing. We must get you cleaned up.” His tone was almost sarcastic. He holds his hand down and out to you. 

Still in awe of the disappeared mess, you take his hand and stand up. You look back at the ground once more, trying to ensure you haven't gone crazy. 

Against your better judgment, you allow the man to lead you by the hand through the party towards the other side of the room. He weaves his way seamlessly through the crowd. However, instead of leading you to the restrooms, he goes to the elevator. 

“Wait w- where are we going... I have my job and-”

“Well come now, you can’t do your job looking like that...” he insists and presses a button on the elevator. 

Gaining some of your willpower back now, you respond, “You know, there's a bathroom at the party, I really need to get back to my job...”

“Your job...” His tone is sultry. “Is to serve the guests, is it not?” 

“Well, yes...” you feel your heart pounding as his next words fill your ears. 

“Then you will most certainly be doing your job darling, no need to worry over that.”

You stutter, trying to process what he means. “Um...I-”

“Ah, here we are... this is my floor,” he speaks over you to drown out your hesitation. You both step out of the elevator, you walking much slower than him. You take in the sight of the empty lobby with apartments leading out of the walls. 

He lives... in the Avenger’s tower? “Wait... who are-”  You finally place the memory. You knew he looked familiar.

Loki watches as realization dawns on your face. His expression darkens. Without hesitation, he walks to you. It only takes him a couple of strides to be directly in front of you, staring down at you with those piercing eyes. 

“I... am Loki...” His voice is almost aggressive now. You begin to shake as he takes your wrists in one hand and pins them against the now-closed elevator doors. They are cold against your skin and give you chills all over again. You also now realize just how tall he is, as he leans against your pinned wrists, towering over you. 

“Prince of Asgard...” His voice is gravely and dark. He puts his other hand into your hair and roughly pulls back, forcing your head to face upward towards his. 

“And you... weak mortal, are meant to serve me.”

Even if you had the ability to run at this point, to get far away from this man before he had his way with you... you knew you would reject the opportunity. 

He watches your reaction for a moment, watching your eyes fill with fearful lust. Watching how your panting causes your wine-covered chest to rise and fall. With his eyes narrow, his mouth slightly open, he relishes in all the power he has over you at this moment. 

Then, he takes his hands from your wrists and hair. They instead make their way to your chest, his cold fingers reach into your shirt between two of the buttons. 

His fingers running along the soft skin of your chest creates a reaction in you far stronger then it should be, and you try to hold it in, closing your eyes. 

In an instant, he shocks you out of the trance by ripping open the thin shirt. You hear several buttons fall to the floor, and he pulls it off of you completely. You are now exposed to him in your lacey bralette, which has also been stained from the wine. 

He takes a moment to soak in the sight of you, but it isn't long. In an instant he grabs your hair and pulls to the side, forcing you to expose your bare neck. 

“You see darling, a beautiful creature such as yourself would be wasted on mortal men...” He whispers into your ear. He then takes a moment to run his cold tongue from the base of your neck up to your ear, causing you to let out a small whimper. 

“You are mine,” he growls into your ear. With a flick of his wrist, you find yourself completely naked in front of him. The sudden wave of air against your bare body is startling and your arms instinctively move to cover yourself.  

Loki doesn’t even let you complete the movement as he takes each of your wrists in his hands once more, and re-pins you against the elevator. “And what do you think you’re doing pet? Trying to hide from me what is mine?” he hisses into your neck and bites at your supple skin. 

You let out another whimper. “N- no... I- I was just-” 

A hand forcefully cups over your mouth. It startles you, and you still whimper slightly. 

Loki listens to your muffled noises coming from under his palm. His eyes are locked onto yours, and they are filled with lust. The tension between your bodies is so strong you swear you can physically feel it in your chest. 

“You are my personal whore tonight. You are here to serve me, and you will deny me no part of you. Every inch of you belongs to me. Do you understand?” 

Your eyes stayed locked on his, and you manage to nod with his hand still pressed against your lips. 

His smile is lustful and sinister. “Good girl” 

The hand drops from your mouth, you take in a sharp breath of air.

That’s when you feel his tongue. He is licking and kissing the sticky sweet wine from your skin, starting from your collar bone and working his way down your breast. His tongue is pleasurably cold, and soon his lips surround your sensitive nipple, nibbling and kissing until you whimper for him once more. 

Without warning he backs up again, only to roughly command you. 

“Now kneel.”

You obey his command as quickly as you can.

“Hmmm...” He let out a deep hum at the sight of you. “The first time you were like this for me we were surrounded by others. But now here we are...” He walks up to you and leans his hands on the elevator above you so that he is arched over your knelt body. “...completely alone.”

With that, he appears naked in front of you, causing you to jump. You hardly get a moment to take in the sight of him before he pushes himself into your agape mouth. You gag a bit at the size of him, then work to adjust to it as well as you can. He is far bigger than anyone you’ve ever taken before.

“Ahhhh...” He lets out a voice filled sigh, it’s almost a moan. Then he begins to move in you, making thrusts in and out of your mouth. His pace slowly quickens as you feel him pulsing in your mouth. He continues this until feel drool falling onto your chin and dripping onto your breasts. 

In an instant, he surprises you by removing himself. You gasp in a full breath of air. 

As quickly as he was gone, he is back inside you. Only this time, he pushes as far as he can into you and stops. He holds himself there and looks down at his mortal. You look up at him, locking your eyes with his, taking every inch of him in your mouth and throat. Loki rolls his eyes back at the sight of you.

He then surprises you again by stopping entirely, only to roughly grab your wrist and lead you down a hall and into a room. You stumble as you try to stand and keep up with him. When you arrive, it’s large and lavishly decorated, but you don’t get an opportunity to process it. 

Loki practically throws you onto the bed in front of him. 

“Open yourself to me,” he commands you. 

You hesitate, nervous and naked in this stranger’s room. 

His stare bores into you. “Are you daring to disobey me, pet?” The way he said things like this always baffled you. The words themselves were threatening, but his tone was purely quizzical. “To deny your King his pleasure? I do believe there would be heavy punishments for such defiance...”

“N-no... sir.”

His tone turns hard and gravely. “Then obey your King and spread your legs.” 

You do as he says, and he takes in the sight of you. “Ah, what's this?” he said as he ran a finger through your wetness, bringing it to his mouth to taste it. “So wet for me, and yet we haven't even begun.” 

You feel your breathing quicken again, and the feeling of such vulnerability in this position only leaves you more flustered. 

“What a naughty girl you are...”

He lowers to kneel between your legs. His kisses and tongue are cold and soft. They line your thighs and all over your pelvis, anywhere but where you need him most. He continues this endlessly, never giving you the pleasure you desire. You begin to move your hips, trying desperately to get what you want. 

“Loki... please...”

“You will receive pleasure when I believe you have earned it, pet. No sooner, and no later. If it happens to torture you, so be it.”

Now he was still and unmoving just above your wet, pulsing heat. His eyes lock onto yours once more. The look of him between your legs, staring into your eyes makes you even more desperate. You can feel his chilled breath against you, causing you to squirm. You begin to buck your hips once more, whimpering with need. 

He backs his head away from your desperate thrusts, clicking his tongue three times. “I choose when you receive your pleasure darling. The harder you try, the longer this will take...”

His words cause you to whine with need, but you put all your effort into holding still. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, trying to control yourself.

His mouth crashes into you. You let out a cry of pleasure as his silver tongue begins to work over every inch of you. It is as is there is no nerve left untouched. He nibbles at your most sensitive spot, before pushing a finger inside you. 

“Oh Fuck...” You hear yourself moan. 

He stops. 

You groan at the sudden and entire removal of him. He pulls himself on top of you and nibbles at your ear before whispering into it, “If you are to make any sound, it shall be my name. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes sir...” you wine to him in response, just wanting him to continue. 

“Good girl...” He returns to his place, his head between your legs once more. His tongue still moves over you like water, pleasuring one part of you before fluidly moving to the next. Back and forth, he keeps going like this until you are on the brink of a mind-blowing orgasm. 

“Oh... L-Loki”

He continues his work on you just for a moment, before retreating once more. This earns him another groan from your lips. 

“If I do grant you release, pet, it will be when you are taking every inch of me inside you...” His words are almost like growls at this point, as he positions himself at your entrance. He barely pushes into you, only to quickly back out as soon as you push closer to him. 

A disappointed whine escapes your lips. “Loki...” 

“Beg. Beg for me to fill you. Beg until your voice leaves you and I will take you with the strength a god can possess.”

His words light your insides on fire. All you want is him. 

“Please. Please fuck me Loki. Please use me. Please take what is yours. I just want you to use me. Please.”

Your begging satisfies him, and with a single thrust, Loki is inside of you. You cry out his name as he thrusts in and out of you, faster than you thought possible. It feels unworldly, the way he slides in and out of you so perfectly, and how wet you are to receive him. 

As Loki gets closer, you feel yourself coming to your edge. Loki grabs your hair and pulls your head back. “I can feel you tightening. Cum for me. Look at me and cum for your King,” he growls, never letting his piercing eyes leave yours.  

His words are all you need. 

‘LOKI!” 

Your body is sent into a storm of pleasure, your body pulsing and shaking around his. He continues to push into you until your tightening around him sends Loki into his end as well. He unravels in front of you, his thrusts becoming less rhythmic and his eyes roll back. He is gasping as if he had been holding his breath. 

Finally, he collapses on top of you. Both of you are sweating and panting. 

After a moment, he rolls to the side, laying on his back next to you. 

“Wow... that was amazing” you stammer. “But I really should get back to work now...”

Loki chuckles at your ignorance. “You truly are a naive mortal...” He rolls over to sit up and look at you once more. “...if you honestly think I am done with you.” 

Thank you so much for reading! Again, this is my first one shot and I honestly don’t know if it’s any good. Please, Please, Please let me know if you like it!

[katsukikitten]

Disinterested 3

Katsuki wanders the city aimlessly, unable to sleep as he already tried. He tossed and turned for hours thinking of things he should have left buried.

Things he set in motion by hitting send all that time ago.

Explosions skitter over his skin, they die as quickly as he breathed life into them. Small little things that barely make a sound.

Something similar to what he had with you. He silently damns himself as he makes his way back up through the open staircase, leisurely climbing the steps as he thinks, wonders if you're alright. His phone pings in his pocket and he wonders who it could be at such a late hour.

Probably that idiot Kirishima lost his key card, like he's fucking done before in his drunken escapades. But when scarlet eyes rove over a locked screen it reads something completely different.

It reads of a head line about the number one female hero. Katsuki unlocks his phone in a hurry as he fishes blindly for his key in his other pocket. Eyes glued to blue illuminating screen as the door beeps, shining green in the night as he pushes into the darkened room.

That is to hear a scream when Katsuki flicks the light on. He readies an explosion in his hand until he sees two bodies intertwined on Eijirou's bed.

"You fucking idot!" Katsuki explodes anyway. Almost setting off the sprinkler system in the hotel room.

"I...I.." Kiri stutters as Mina tries to sink under the sheets.

"You what? Spit it out!" Katsu says turning his eyes back to the article.

*'NUMBER ONE FEMALE HERO KNOWS HOW TO PARTY.'*

Kirishima proceeds to give some lame ass excuse that falls on deaf ears as crimson eyes scroll through the article posted at 1AM.

He spies a photo of you dancing, downing shots, and his screen almost shatters when his thumb hovers the last picture.

You recieving a kiss on the cheek from some fucking creep that has his grimy ass hands on your hips.

Hips that should still belong to Katsuki.

"Where the hell is Y/N?!" He shouts, interrupting the story, "You just left her down there? With those fucking assholes Mina?"

"I...she said she didn't want to...."

"I don't give a fuck what she said she did or didn't want to do. She's clearly drunk as fuck and you LEFT her." Katsuki wants to ring Mina's neck but his hands find better work of rummaging through her purse for her key card to their room.

"Bakugou, if I tried to drag her away. You know she would have caused a scene." Mina all but squeaks. His grip threatens to crush the doorknob to the hallway to dust as he speaks.

"Then you drag her bratty ass away anyway. Better than the possibility of her getting drugged and date raped."

Worry grips Katuski hard enough that he jumps from the fifth floor straight to the hard pavement in his black skull tshirt and black cargo shorts. He practically sprints to the bar a few buildings down that is bumping with music.

He pushes through the crowd angrily as women begin to squeal when they recognize him. His heart pounds when he cannot spot you but the guy in the pictures smiling ear to ear. He shoves past the glomping girls in such a rush that some fall on their ass, tears fueled by too much alchohol and hurt pride.

"Yea then Dark Star just kisses me on the lips. Tongue and everything. God I can't wait to fu.." But he stops short when he sees a death glare in the reflection of the bar mirror staring back at him despite the glass bottles filled with tempting liquid.

"You can't wait to do what?" He growls darkly turning the man to face him, "Please continue. I'd love to hear what you think you're going to do."

The man smirks, suddenly filled with liquid courage.

"I said I cannot wait to *fuck* Dark Star. She's clearly an easy slut."

Bakugou does not try to hold his temper back like his PR and agent director suggested.

No Bakugou rears his fist back so fast that it takes the asshole four solid seconds to realize that he's missing majority of his front teeth.

Hell four solid seconds before he slumps to the floor, blood oozing past his lips. Katsuki turns to his friend, a malice laced smirk plastered on his face as he lets explosions go freely in his open palm.

"Now where did you see Y/N go?" The guys eyes widen with fear and he audibly gulps.

"She...ahhh..she left. Went back to her hotel I think..." Katsuki slams him against the bar top.

"You think or you fucking know?!" He yells. Slamming him again so he won't blast one of his limbs off.

"S..sir. I'll have to call the police if you act any further." The bar tender is sheepish, although he is three times as big as Katsuki. There is just something about that Bakugou rage that can make any man quiver.

A hiss leaves the hot head's lips as he squeezes the guys throat a final time. Turning without saying a word as the whole bar stares at his receding built back.

He climbs the open stairwell steps two at a time, rushing up them only to stand before your door hesitant.

A breeze whips his shirt, bringing with it salted sea air that clings to his skin, his hair.

Air that you've said you loved the smell of during a quiet movie night you two shared.

He sighs, pressing the key to the door, it beeps, flashing green and Katsuki grips the handle a second before it locks again.

"Y/N?" He calls softly into the darkness, wondering if his eyes are playing tricks on him and if the quiet night is much deeper in the poorly decorated four walls than it normally is.

When there is no answer he creeps into the room, flicking on the light to small hall before the bathroom to see neatly made beds and clothes strown all over the cheap furniture. He growls in frustration, wondering where you could be when he spies your obnoxiously large handwriting that seems slurred even in ink.

*"Came back didn't see you went back out. Not bar, beach or pool maybe."*

Katsuki sighs with slight relief. He thinks of going back to his room, at least you're on hotel grounds but he thinks better of it.

Not only is Kirishima balls deep in Mina, a sight he really doesnt want to experience, again, his mind wanders to thoughts of you being too drunk to swim or worse too drunk for another asshole to take advantage of you.

He jumps from the sixth floor, landing harshly in his combat boots. He makes his way to the pool first and he is thankful he picked right. He sees a heavy darkness looming like a black fog over the pool.

So inky black one can barely see the gate and he knows no light will cut through that depth you've emitted. He pulls the lock of the gate up and only takes one step in unsure of where the body of water starts and the cement deck ends.

"Y/N?" He calls out, voice barely cutting through the vast darkness.

"Ah Katsuki-kun!" You use your sweetest voice pulling all of the night back to you. Water splashes as you go from floating to standing chest deep in clear water, the small pool lights begin to shine again, no longer oppressed.

Katsuki notices that you're clad in nothing but a lacey black bra and a matching black thong. He swallows.

"What are you doing?" His voice is rough and you laugh.

"Enjoying the moonlight!" Voice never wavering in confidence or joy. You splash next to you as if tapping a seat, "Come in!"

Another breeze wafts in sweet salty air, cooling the pool deck

"You've got to be fucking joking." He half snaps. Staring down at you in your underwear.

"I'm not fucking joking, King. Now get undressed and get in the fucking water!" The sharpness in your voice pierces his heart. Espeically you using the dom name you gave him since you were not a fan of calling him Daddy. You're drunk, he reminds himself as he unties his combat boots with a growl. Biting his lip to keep from "correcting" your bratty tone. He'd never admit it out loud but if you weren't such a brat it would be no fun to make you submit to him. He pulls off his cargo shorts and his deadly hand grabs onto the collar behind his head, yanking his shirt from his body in one swift motion.

You sigh with delight audibly, eyes hungrily raking over what was once yours.

Well yours behind closed doors. You remind yourself as you lie back floating, sstaring at the sky and satisfied with a splash of water signaling Katsuki's entrance.

Long moments stretch between you two in silence as you both stare into the sky, fingers floating into the other but neither grasp on.

"Do you know why I like the stars so much Suki?" You break the silence, voice so solemn and sad. You tread water just enough for your shoulders to still be underwater, Katuski follows suit but does not speak.

He isn't sure why you love the stars so much. He just knows that you do. He knows that the comet is coming in about twenty minutes. He looked it up, not knowing you were going on this trip.

He was going to watch it for you. You hold eye contact with him, deep brooding scarlet eyes bore into you, waiting patiently for your answer.

"Because even when space is so cold, so dark....so unfuckingfeeling...they shine anyway Suk. They burn brightly and for millions of fucking years in the darkest place in all of existence. It gives me...hope." You sigh shakily, dimming the lights around you so he cannot see your tears.

But he knows what you're doing. He knows your tactics but gives you space.

"Hope that my quirk won't scare people off, that someone will persevere despite my darkness. That I'll persevere despite it." You stop speaking just before your voice breaks. You swallow, the world swimming for a moment as you collect yourself.

You ebb closer to Katsuki, staring at his lips. Lips that had always commanded you, climaxed you, comforted you in your weakest moments.

He makes you weak now as you are a breath away from pressing your lips to his. He is hesitant to pull back, still sure you are dating that inconsiderate asshole.

He knows that he's better for you but he knows not to take advantage of your drunken state. As you lean closer he places his finger to your lip, cannot help himself as he pulls your bottom lip some.

"Kitten, we are going to miss the comet if we kiss." He says before scooping you up princess style. Grabbing both of your phones as he heads for the beach.

The sand is soft and cool beneath his feet, another breeze that brings mist and a bright moon that makes the sand shine.

He finds a good spot near the water but not close enough that it could kiss your toes. He settles you in his lap and leans back on his arms so he can create an incline for you.

He was right, had you two kissed it would have left you no time to see this gorgeous celestial body cut through the sky like a shining knife.

You sigh leaning into him, when the comet has gone you take the time to point out the constellations to him.

He doesn't remind you that you've showed him thousands of times and he would quietly listen a million times more.

"Oh that one is Taurus!" You point and he follows your delicate figures.

"That one is mine right?" His voice rumbles in his chest and you can feel it in his back. You blush.

"I forgot I've told you about them. I'm so.."

"Don't you dare fucking apologize to me about something you love enough to share with others." It comes out as a snarling growl and you turn to face him.

How could you forget that he always listened? How could you let all of this slip through your fingers.

He was only being kind now because you were drunk. Just like he was only being kind during that year cause you two were fucking.

And you asked, you asked for cuddling after the first time and he gave them ever since.

Tears drip freely from your cheeks as you lean forward. He stops you again with a solemn sigh.

"What about Todoroki?" He hisses, but somehow you know he isn't angry at you.

"Ah. We broke up." You say so quietly.

"But I thought..."

"Yea I did too. I thought our sex was nothing more than sex to you in those last few months. I sighed everytime I saw his Instagram because I wasn't sure what I wanted you and I to be." You scream continuing, "I told myself that it was the sex and your dominance that made me want to stay and that I wasn't anything but a good time to you. When you sent that picture with the line I sent you I thought I knew. I tried to cover myself I felt raw and vulnerable suddenly. I...I almost talked myself out of it when I stood in front of your door. I almost told you until I saw you deleting all of my photos, our selfies. I knew you didn't love me then."

Even fatter tears fall from your cheeks.

"I'm sorry I've been so much trouble Kat..Bakugou." You go to stand but he yanks you back down, knees hitting sand hard. He is huffing as he collects himself,explosions erupt from his back.

He fishes for his phone with his free hand and pull up the photo.

The photo of the two of you, young, stupid and both too prideful to admit what you felt for each other. You cry for a different reason as he speaks.

"I never said I didn't love you kitten." He growls in your ear, "I just never said aloud that I did."

He devours your lips then, pulling you to him kissing you deeply tongues touching.

He pulls away panting heavily.

"I love you. And don't you ever fucking forget it." He growls before kissing you again, tempted to take you then and there on that beach with no one to see but the moon.

[nightwingshero]

Unwanted

Okay guys, so I’ve been working on two different stories for FC5: one that follows the game and the other is a burlesque/mafia au that I couldn’t get out of my head. This is the first piece of work I’ve posted for Wren and John, and its for the burlesque au. I’m going to be posting my work on AO3 soon, but I got really excited about this and wanted to share it! Trigger warning for some alcohol use and dark thoughts, so read at your own risk!

Her green, venomous eyes were taunting. She sneered at everything that came across her withering gaze, her hips swaying with a little extra effort to gain the attention from those around her. It was in vain, of course, with Rowan’s performance still in full swing. But that didn’t stop this woman from holding her head high as she looked down her nose to our dancers. We’ve had people in here before from the first class. Most of the time, they were pleasant, friends of Whitney or John. Some just stopping through to check out the club they’ve heard so much about, but that southern charm had never failed. Until now.

She flipped her platinum blonde hair, the curls catching the little light that created the ambiance. Her short emerald dress hugged her curves, showcasing her breasts perfectly. I was almost impressed. I shifted a bit, fidgeting with the material of the outfit I wore for my last performance. I was talking to John before he had ducked outside to take a call from a client. I stood there, waiting for his return, but as her gaze narrowed on me, I knew I was in for it.

“Where’s John?” she asked in a clipped voice. I would have thought her beautiful, if her personality had matched. I frowned at her.

“I’m sorry, he’s not available. May I ask who’s asking?” I asked in curiosity. John had people come in here and there, asking for his time. This wasn’t new. He would brush them off, telling us to make sure to ask who they were and why they wanted to see him. He was so allusive here, insistent that his business hours were always clearly communicated. If those expectations weren’t met, then too bad. He took his schedule seriously.

She sneered at me, her glossy lips shimmering with her teeth. “I’m his fiancée. Now, go tell him that I’m here.” My brows shot up in surprise as my heart stopped. Fiancée? He had never mentioned…

“I didn’t realize he was engaged.” I replied quietly, hoping to keep the disappointment hidden. I felt deflated, as if someone had poked a hole in me. I wanted to stay neutral, not give away how my heart sank to the pit of my stomach at the thought of it. But she smirked, her green eyes twinkling.

“Well, he is.” She let out a little laugh. “Its cute, you know? This little crush you have.”

“I don’t—”

“Oh please.” She snapped. “It’s so obvious. He probably already knows. You wear it on your sleeve. It’s disgusting and pathetic.” She clicked her tongue as she gave her a look of pity. “Let me guess, you’re some country girl from the middle of nowhere who is trying to make it in the big city. Am I right?” I don’t answer. I’m raging, the blatant rudeness wiggling under my skin. But I can’t seem to defend myself. My tongue feels heavy and the tears are coming. It only fuels her, knowing she is so close to making me collapse into myself like a house of cards.

“Oh honey, did you really think he would go for that? Some little girl playing dress up when she belongs back on the farm? You’re way out of your league.” She steps closer, placing a hand on my shoulder as she squeezes with a false sense of reassurance. As if we were in this together, the two of us against the world. “Honestly, I’m doing you a favor. Saving you from the humiliation of rejection. John has standards, a particular taste darling. And this? This isn’t you. It’s not fitting in the slightest. Whore isn’t exactly on John’s radar. He prefers women of class, love. You’re beneath him. It’s time for you to understand that you’ll never be good enough for him.” She smiles again, before rubbing her hand on my cheek. Then with a slight smack against my skin, she’s gone, and my eyes are catching Whitney’s shocked ones.

The room spins as I lean against a chair for support as Whitney tries to call for me. Fight or flight is strong in my veins, roaring in my ears as my stomach twists and twists, creating something I don’t recognize within me. Reforming, as I stumble to the back, desperate for something I can cling to, something real I can put inside myself to make me real. I’m a ghost of something as I gather my things to leave. The breath in me is gone, forcing me to choke on the stale cigarette smoke Adelaide is supplying. I’m almost in a trance, and yet I feel some sort of clarity. The fantasy broken like a magic mirror, and suddenly I am seeing my true self in the broken pieces lying before me. I barely register Faith’s words, but I’m sure she’s asking if I’m alright. I smile, say yes, pretend that I’m still the same person on that stage. She’s not convinced and so I tell her I’m going home. My sleeve must be dirty from everything that shows there.

I leave quickly, feeling like a fool. Perhaps I should laugh, like most clowns do, pulling all those emotions out of my sleeve like a colorful handkerchief chain. That would require a voice, something I was lacking. A mime would be more fitting. My body the tool, invisible and locked inside a box I created for myself as I tried to put on a display. A vision no one had wanted, the piece of art that sat in the back unwanted. I forced a sob down as I entered my car, fumbling for the keys.

I wish I could say that I remembered getting to my apartment. Out of character for small town Wren, sweet little Wren. The box was closing in, my chest threatening to implode. I let go, the tears and sobs forcing my body curl into itself on my bed. The little moments were a mirage, something my naïve brain believed to be something more. How many times had he been there to protect me? His bullet wound had only just healed. How many times had he saved me? The disaster of a date with Detective Pratt merely weeks ago. I could still taste the fear on my tongue as Pratt plied me with glass after glass of wine. The gentleness in which John had handled me, almost caring. Like I was the most fragile thing in his world.

I scream them into my pillow, the broken pieces of my heart. Pieces of my soul shattering like the illusion of him, the illusion of what I thought we could have become. I breathe in deeply and that’s when I feel the shift, the steel resolve of my psyche overcoming me. It’s the numbness I notice first, turning my sobs into nothing. I rise, making my way to the kitchen like a vengeful spirit that is the one being haunted. The vase is crystal, a gift from Adelaide for the new place, but it’s the flowers I want. He had them sent to me, celebrating our big show only a few nights prior. I laughed to myself, remembering the rush I had felt. For the first time, I had felt high. Elated.

I swayed, humming to myself a bit as I made my way to the bathroom. Turning the chrome handle, I began to run the hot water, desperate to feel the burn against my skin to help me rid myself of her touch. To purge the gaze that had taken me in with such disdain, as if I was a stain upon this earth. Her tainting touch scorched my skin, leaving an invisible mark that only I could see. That I could feel. And with that, I ripped the soft petals from the stems, allowing them to sprinkle down into the water. They dance across the surface, a secret waltz that only they knew.

One by one, I light candle after candle, a dark ritual that was only just beginning. My hair is twisting up and up, piling elegantly on top of my head, and then I’m dipping into the water. The warm, baptizing water welcoming me, loving me as it takes me as I am. Scars and all, it holds me securely in it’s embrace. I could almost hear the shushing of its calming voice, almost feel the comforting fingers of my mother as she played with my hair. The ghost of her was almost enough, pushing me back to a time where I didn’t have to feel the weight of loss or rejection.

And suddenly, her ghost is gone. Blue eyes have taken over haunting me, her fingers replaced by his tattooed ones. He plays me like a harp, pulling my tight strings just so he could hear me sing, watch as I move with a simple flick. The hypnosis of his ocean eyes is deep and tempting, calling for my drowning. They wish to claim my last breath, the very last bit of my being. And I’m rising from the water, panic clawing my throat because I can feel the pull, feel his gaze as I felt hers. I fight off the tears that demand to be seen, that want the show they so rightfully deserve. It was only fair, my heart screams, but I laugh at it. Life is never fair.

I stand naked in the mirror, but I see her standing next to me. The blue bloods that own this city, the embodiment of the perfect Georgia peach. A woman I could see John taking by the waist with pride. Her red lips and dark lashes, the long neck and golden blonde hair on display for all to see. My body not nearly as lean or as striking. I imagined her in her castle as a child, the beautiful princess of Atlanta, ruling her kingdom with her head held high. My childhood filled with softball tournaments and the old beaten up acoustic guitar that slept in the corner, while she attended operas and orchestra concerts. A culture I had never dreamed of, a social circle that could never be touched by the likes of me.  

I dry my skin, the feeling of being paper thin is overwhelming. I laugh to myself, because I know what comes next. I know what I’m about to do. It’s silly, childish, and yet I glide to my dresser. Slowly, I pull out my favorite number, something I had always imagined wearing for him. Not on stage, no. This was something for him and him alone. I put on the bra, the black lace striking against my skin and suddenly I’m untouchable. Slipping on the lacey underwear to match, I turn to my closet, desperate for the last pieces. The silk ebony robe sending shivers down my spine as it caresses me, and it’s as if I’m being held in my lover’s arms. The heels are last, simple and elegant. Tall and black, two thin straps leaving my feet bare, the same shoes I had worn to my father’s funeral. I felt like death herself, all powerful and ready to take whatever she wanted. Provocative and demanding, a queen among men.

My hair is released, falling like a waterfall down my back. It felt good to pretend, to believe in this moment that I was like her, that I wasn’t me. That I was a woman that was cherished and wanted, an envy-worthy being. I reason with myself; I know I’ve gone mad. I had fallen off the deep end and taken flight, and it had never felt better. The feeling addicting, the need for more growing and growing. The heels clicked against the wood floor, fueling me. The righteousness they sang, the vengeance they demanded, it became a soothing lullaby.

The kitchen is dark, only the light above the stove and sink burned with life. I reached for the most expensive red wine I had, pouring a glass with a smile of satisfaction. The blood red liquid was all consuming, drawing me closer. The dark, bitter taste becoming my sanctuary, but I wasn’t done. No, far from it. And as I sat down at my small vanity back in the bathroom, I choke yet again on a sob, and force out a laugh instead. I had a plan, a traitorous plan against the tears that begged for the freedom they longed for. I knew how to trick the emotions into becoming wisps of smoke on the inside of my porcelain glass exterior. I had never been an artist, but I paint. The burgundy against my lips, the black liquid liner creating sharp edges that would dare touch without permission. The brush then creates a frame for the windows of my soul, residing in the blue green irises staring back at me. They’re heavy, sad even, but the mascara does its job and I finish with a flourish.

I’m suddenly beautiful, a perfect doll someone would love to have, to play with, and have on their arm. I wonder briefly which arm he would use to put around my own waist, and suddenly my vision swims. I scoff as I hold my head high and take a sip in victory, toasting myself for outsmarting the betrayal of my heart that suddenly matched the blue of his eyes. I was so strong, I told myself. I was better. But as I held the glass gently, it became comforting to me, whispering sweet nothings and promising me a numbness that kept me safe and sound. I knew I was lying to myself. I was far from better.

A sound pulls me from the calling, and I set the glass down as I rose. The noise led me to my bedroom window, finding a cat messing with some metal trashcans as it scavenged for its next meal. Then I hear the soft clicking of my front door, and I scoff while squeezing my eyes shut momentarily. I should have known. Rowan was the only other one with a key, and I could almost bet that Faith had sent her my way. The wine’s singing int the next room, creating an atrocity of noise in my head. Perhaps just one glass, just to get the noise to go away. To make everything quiet.

Rowan would wait patiently in the living room; she respected my privacy. She wouldn’t just wander around. No, she would sit on the couch or at the kitchen table, preparing for whatever conversation she had planned on having. “Rowan, I’ll be out in a moment.” I call out in a sigh, letting her know I was aware of her and wasn’t being ignored. “I hope your show ended well. Sorry I wasn’t there to see the grand finale.” Every word was an effort, taking energy away from me. I wanted nothing more than to be alone.

I give only a few more seconds as I come to my decision and began making my way back to my bathroom. I could down the glass quickly. Rowan gives no response, but I don’t mind. It doesn’t matter. But as I step into the bathroom, I freeze. The blood in my veins suddenly turn to ice and my breath hitches. The glass was missing, as if it were never there in the first place. Sad and confused, I approach the vanity. The red wine, that had matched my lips, was gone. Staring at the reflection in the mirror, I’m reminded that I could never be her, or any of them. The beautiful women that could seduce him with just a soft smirk, a glance in his direction as her finger curled, beckoning him closer. I cringe as I turn away. I didn’t need another reminder that I wasn’t good enough.

“Rowan, give it back. I’m fine. Let me finish my fucking wine.” I stomp down the fall, my heels screaming their wrath. That’s how I enter my kitchen, ready for war, but I stop as something catches my attention. I make my way to the sink in a daze as I reach for my empty glass, the stain from my former lipstick taunting me. The wine bottle is set down and I reach for it, not caring of the guest I had yet to acknowledge. The lightness of the glass bottle tells me exactly what I had been thinking, it had not been spared. Everything was empty, just like me.

I slam the bottle down as I clench my teeth, seething. I wanted to scream, to see the world burn with the rage I was feeling. “Rowan!” I snap and I begin to shake, but whether it was from anger or the lack of control, I wasn’t sure. “Are you fucking kidding me? I barely had any—”

I’m no longer yelling but choking on the gasp that rushes out as fingers caress my neck, a hand gripping my hip tightly. They tease at the base of my neck before tracing my collarbone. The hand on my hip is sliding and sliding until its entangled with the knot of my robe. I know this touch, this gentle melody against my skin. The same gentle caress that ran over my skin as he marked me, embedding his creation into my skin with his dark ink. A permanent work of art that would be displayed on me for the rest of my life, and then suddenly he grasps my neck, squeezing only slightly. I knew what this was. I knew that this was a punishment, his own way of showing his disappointment for my lapse. He wouldn’t hurt me, I trusted him, and I knew that concern was driving his anger. My head rests against his shoulder as his lips find my ear.

“Promise?” he asked, dead serious. His breath makes me shiver and I breath out slowly through my nose. “Promise me that that’s all you had, Wren. Do not lie to me.”

“I promise, John.” I whispered in shame. He knew, god he knew. I was usually good, drinking only in moderation and at social events. I was so careful. But he knew, in this moment, that I had no intention of stopping. I was so swept up in the hurt, in the insecurity and anxiety, that I hadn’t realized how quickly I was falling down the rabbit hole. I make a sound at the back of my throat, and I feel my armor began to fall, disintegrating into nothing as I’m fighting the tears that are coming back.

He doesn’t give me the opportunity to cry. His lips find the junction of my neck and I sigh. Rowan wouldn’t have taken that step, pouring everything I had down the sink. That just wasn’t how she was. She would have lectured, sure. Express disappointment? Absolutely. John wasn’t like that. John was bold, unafraid of anything that ever came his way. I let out a shaky breath as he pulled away, his hand leaving my neck as his finger gently turned my chin. His lips found mine and I couldn’t think.

How long had we skirted around this? How many times had we came this close, but never crossed the line? The stolen glances, the shameless flirting. The way he held me the night I was almost shot in the alley, and yet neither of us were willing to take it further. I could almost laugh, because I had thought for so long it was just me. I was crushing on someone way out of my league. I had believed the words that woman had said. And suddenly, I remembered exactly why I was in this situation. I’m his fiancée.

He pulled away as the tears fell, and I looked away from him. He wasn’t having it. Gripping the front of my robe, he jerks me around. It takes only a few seconds for him to see, and without missing a beat, his hands are on my thighs. He sets me up on the counter as a sob successfully, finally, escapes my lips. His hands cradle my face as his thumbs wipe the tears away. His eyes are soft and they’re pulling me in, a tug on my seams as I become undone. I tore my gaze away, trying to hide everything I was feeling.

“Look at me.” He whispers, his face close enough that I can feel his breath. I looked back, fear and hurt all over my face. “Listen to me and listen very closely. You are enough. Do you hear me? Wren, you are enough.”

“Enough for you?” I croaked as I cried. My hands twisted as the clung to his white button up shirt. I was creating wrinkles, but neither of us cared. His brow furrowed and his jaw ticked.

“Enough for me? God Wren, who gives a shit about me?” He gently pokes my chest, against my beating heart. “It doesn’t fucking matter what I think or what anyone else thinks for that matter. Anyone.” He sneered as a dark look swirled in his cerulean orbs. “All that matters, is that you’re enough for you. You matter, Wren. You come first.”

“But that woman said—”

“That woman is nothing. Her opinion is nothing. She will never touch you, or get close to you, do you understand? She’s a liar and a manipulator. A child throwing a tantrum for not getting what she wants.”

I shook my head, my insecurities still whispering doubts. “She’s so pretty, John. She’s so thin, and I’m nothing like her. I’m not like her.” I sobbed.

He chuckled, a soft smile gracing his lips and showing off his perfect teeth. The light gave him a heavenly glow, yellow highlighting his features that made him look warm. “No, you’re not. You’re nothing like her, Wren. But that’s one of the biggest things I love about you.” He gently pressed his thumb against my lips, helping silence my sobs as I hung onto every word. “Shhh. Don’t cry, darling. Do you not see? Do you not understand just how beautiful you are, inside and out? Do you not know what it is you do to me?”

“John—” I gasped, but he presses his lips softly against mine before pulling back.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this? I’ve thought of little else since I’ve first laid eyes on you.” He whispers. “I get to watch you, Wren. I get to watch you every night when you perform, and I want nothing more than to devour you, to have you all to myself.” He tugged the robe loose, making it fall open and his eyes travelled down. My skin heated immediately from his attention, his finger returning to my chest as it teasingly traced the top of my breast. “I waited, bidding my time for the perfect moment. It never seemed to come, though, and I had to watch as that idiot detective circled you. But I protected you when you needed, listened to you when you needed the shoulder to cry on. I wanted you, craved you, but needed you to be happy, to be ready and unafraid. I wanted to take my time with you, but I can’t keep my fucking hands off you.”

I laughed and his smile broadened as he leaned back. “So…you’re not engaged?”

He scoffed. “Hell no. We used to be, but that was years ago. She’s nothing to me.” He placed a light kiss on my nose, before going for my lips, but I stopped him. He gave me a look and I smirked.

“Did you break into my apartment?” I asked, my brow raising, and he gave me a smirk in return.

“Oh darling, I plead the fifth.”

“So, that’s a yes.”

“It is not. Need I remind you that I’m innocent until proven guilty?” he asked, a breathless laugh escaping him. He gave me a mischievous smirk, something dancing in his eyes that made my lower abdomen pull as I bit my lip. “I heard about what happened, Whitney told Rowan and I everything. Rowan was enraged, I believe she may or may not have taken a swing at our unwanted guest. I didn’t stay though, I needed to check on my girl.” He tilted my chin up gently, his lips brushing mine lightly. “And you are my girl, aren’t you darling?”

“Yes, John. I’m yours.” I breathed out and his lips crashed against mine once more. Everything forgotten as a sense of relief settled over me. My heart swelled as his hands caressed lovingly against my skin, holding me, and driving the last of my inner demons into the shadows as I fell into his sweet embrace.

[deathbymeow]

For You, I’d Die.  Chapter: 4. Shots

Adrien walked into the club, nodding at the bouncer at the door. He never had a problem getting into places, everyone new his name. It could be a curse just as much as a blessing sometimes. When everyone knew your name there was no privacy and everyone expected something from you.

She was the first thing he saw as he climbed the stairs towards the VIP lounge. No matter how hard he tried he was always drawn to her. He could find her in a crowed without even trying. It didn’t matter if he was transformed as Chat or if she was in her spotted ladybug suit. She was his compass guiding him home and he would always be hers even if she didn’t know it.  

Her black hair was out and fell down her back curling on the ends. Thigh high black boots that should be illegal showed just a hint of her toned legs, until Alya spun her around and Adrien caught an accidental peek at her black lacey panties. If he wasn’t already dead, he would be in a second as Alya let go of Marinette, who spun laughing into his arms.

Marinette looked up at him with some seriously sexy kitten eyes. Yep, dead. He was memorized by the way the flashing light seemed to make the blue of her eyes look like the sparkling sea. A surprised pout formed on her pink lips and she blinked her long lashes a few times before bopping him on the nose giggling.

“Adrien… you made it.” She breathed, smiling up at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Hey, Marinette. You look amazing, like always.” He hugged her back, just a second longer than he would anyone else.

Adrien held her at arm’s length to get the full effect of her outfit. The high waisted black skirt had small pleats, giving it the movement that allowed it to lift. Her long sleave top was made of tight black lace, showing off her perfectly toned body. The lace was see-through enough to show a hint of her lime green bra. If that wasn’t enough to kill him for the second time, what he saw next surely would. Around her neck a little gold bell hung off a satin ribbon. He instantly recognized it as the present he’d given ladybug on her eighteenth.

Adrien lightly flicked it and his sensitive ears heard the soft ding over the loud music. He could see her shiver as his fingers skimmed the soft skin under the bell and he intentionally let his fingers linger against her warm skin. He traced them along her neck and up to her cheek, brushing a wild strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb skimmed over her miraculous and he smiled as a soft blush formed on her cheeks.  

“Dance with me Agreste.” She said, sounding breathless. He nodded as she pulled him onto the dance floor.

One thing he was yet to learn, was how to say no to her so without hesitation he took off his leather jacket and threw it on the nearest lounge. Completely forgetting about the little black kwami snuggled in his pocket.

The music faded momentarily, and Nino was introduced by a deep voice. A loud cheer rung out from the packed club and Nino started his set with one of his original songs. When the bass dropped the crowd went wild, but Adrien was only focused on the dancing girl in front of him that was intent on torturing him. She danced against him, throwing her hands in the air and closing her mischievous eyes. The wicked smile on her lips gave him the feeling she knew exactly what she was doing.

Alya grabbed the bartender and yelled, “Get this boy a drink. He’s going to need it when my girls finished with him.” The bartender watched Marinette and Adrien for a moment then smirked and nodded in agreement.

Marinette knew how to move her body and tonight she wasn’t holding back. It wasn’t news to Adrien, but normally it was Luka that got all of her attention. He knew there was something going on between the couple. Marinette had taken two weeks off work much to his father’s disapproval. She’d ignored all of his texts and calls. He was worried about her and wanted to talk but now wasn’t the time.

He was slightly confused by all of her attention, but figured it was best focused on him than some of the other creeps in here that would use her vulnerability to their advantage.

The bartender returned and put their drinks on the table.  He gave Adrien the thumbs up and disappeared back into the crowd. Adrien grabbed Marinette’s hand and lead the still dancing beauty to the table.

“I’ve been worried about you.” Adrien half yelled next to her ear so she could hear over the music.

Marinette turned to him and softly smiled. “You shouldn’t be Agreste. I’m fine.” She winked at him and took a sip of his drink.

“Somehow Marinette, I don’t believe you, but I’m not going to push. Just know I’m here if you need me.” He kissed her on the top of the head, and she wrapped her arms around him.

“You’re too cute Agreste and god you smell good.” She mumbles into his shirt. Adrien chuckled; he knew he wasn’t meant to hear that but having the cat miraculous for ten year had its perks. One of them being extremely good hearing.

Alya startled the two when she slapped the table and yelled. “Let’s do shots.” As if on cue a heavily remixed version of Shots started to play.

“Ugh, I hate this song Nino.” Kim whined behind them. “But I’m in for shots Al.”

“You sure that’s a good idea Al?” Adrien asked pointing to an unaware Marinette who was still cuddling him.

Marinette loosened her hold on him and look up at him pouting. “You afraid Agreste?” She playfully stuck her tongue out at him and poked his chest.

“Me? Hmph never.” Adrien gave her one of his model smiles and flagged down the bartender.

Adrien was afraid though. Afraid of losing himself in her blue eyes. Afraid of telling her how he really felt. Afraid of forgetting his morels and trying to kiss her even though she was with Luka.

He hadn’t been in a long-term relationship since Kagami. There had been other girls but no one he really cared about. They always made him feel like they wanted something from him. Whether it was his money or fame he didn’t know or care.

He’d never fully got over his feelings for Ladybug and no matter who he was with it always hung over him like a storm cloud. A constant reminder that she wasn’t his. Ladybug had a boyfriend and was happy, so in turn he was happy for her. That was how love worked right?

There was only one girl that managed to change that.

He’d always been good friends with Marinette, but for some reason she’d always held back with him. He saw how carefree she was with everyone else, but he never got that from her. Until a few years ago when she started to intern for his father’s fashion house.

Marinette was halfway through her fashion degree. Luka had just left to tour with his band and Adrien somehow became her shoulder to cry on. The two spent almost every day together and he found himself falling hard for yet another girl he couldn’t have.

Finally, he got to see the carefree Marinette with all her adorable little quirks. At first it felt strangle familiar and then it started to all fit together. The day she bopped him on the nose then folded her arms confidently over her chest while calling him “silly Agreste” was the final piece to the puzzle.

Marinette was Ladybug and Ladybug was Marinette.

He’d fallen for both of them, at different times and years apart. He felt like the biggest idiot. All this time she’d been right under his nose. Literally, he was at least a foot taller than her.

Torn, he decided not to tell her in fear that he could lose her as a friend if she found out who he was. He would never come between Marinette and Luka. If friendship was all he could ever have with her, then he’d have to be content with that. As long as she was in his life that was all that mattered.

The bartender put a tray of shot glasses all filled with different coloured shots on the table in front of them, bringing Adrien back to reality.

Adrien ran one of his hands through his hair, trying to clear his head. Marinette was dancing provocatively in front of him with Alya.

“Shots it is then.” He said lifting the glass to his lips.

The rest of Adrien’s night was a blur of drinks, blue eyes, more drinks, laughter, even more drinks, dancing and way too much physical interaction with Mari. Not that he was complaining, but he was definitely going to need a cold shower when he got home.

At some point Nino finished his set and joined them. They continued to dance and drink until the music momentarily faded. The DJs voice rung out through the club. “This was a request from one of you, sassy things out there,” he pointed into the dancing crowd, “for the beautiful Marinette Dupain-Cheng in our VIP lounge. It’s safe to say, we can thank her for the slick new tunes from Four-sided Tragedy.” The music started to play again, and the crowd went wild.

A few people turned to look at her as “I’m going under and this time I feel there’s no one to save me. This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy,” played throughout the club.

Adrien felt Marinette tense against him. Her glass dropped out of her hand and shattered around their feet. Alya was instantly by her side, wrapping her arms around a shocked Marinette.

“Oh my god, there’s a remix already. Mari honey, are you Ok? Do you want to go?” Alya asked holding her face.

“What the actual fuck?” Nino yelled, looking around furiously.

“No… Yes… What do I do, Al?” Marinette looked shattered and it killed Adrien.

Adrien clenched his fists; he could feel his temper rising and his impulsive thinking took over. He grabbed his jacket and the girl’s bags, passing the bags to Alya and put his jacket over Marinette’s shoulders.

“Nino get Kim and Ivan to take the girls out the front with you. I just have to do something.”

Before anyone could stop him, he took off down the stairs, taking two at a time. He pushed his way through the crowd to the stage where the smug DJ was playing his set. Going around the back he snuck onto the stage before anyone noticed.

Adrien grabbed the DJ and slammed him against one of the speakers. “Who the fuck requested the song?”

“Whoa… Adrien Agreste?” The DJ smiled raising his hands in surrender.

“Don’t test me. Who was it?” Adrien growled, pressing his arm firmly across the DJs chest.

“I don’t know. Just some girl.” The DJ said smugly.

Adrien let him go and took a step back. “You’re pathetic.” He turned to leave.

“Hey Agreste. So, I guess we have you to thank for the song too. I hear she’s a great fuck.”

Adrien saw red. He turned and before the DJ had time to react Adrien’s fist connected with his nose sending him stumbling into the sound board. Blood started to pour from his nose, but Adrien didn’t care, he went to punch him again, but Nino and a bouncer grabbed him and dragged him off the stage.

“What the fuck Nino. Did you hear what he said. You should’ve let me give him the beating his punk ass deserved.” Adrien yelled still struggling against the hands that were holding him.

“Adrien there’s press here. We have to go. The girls are waiting around the corner but if the press find them…” Nino didn’t have to finish Adrien stopped struggling.

“I’m good. I’m good!” Adrien raised his hands. The bouncer let him go grumbling something under his breath about the youths of today.

Adrien and Nino took off towards the exit pushing their way through the dancing crowd. Even with a busted nose the smartass DJ managed to change the song to Apologize and as they walked out, he heard the lyrics “It’s too late to apologize, I said it’s too late to apologize,” being played over and over.

They found the girls with Ivan and Kim where Nino had left them. Adrien wrapped his arms around Marinette. She snuggled against his chest. “You Ok?” He asked suddenly feeling guilty for leaving her.

“Mm hmm. I just wanna get out of here. Can I go back to your place, I don’t want to go home?” She asked looking up at him with those damn eyes.

“Sure.” He answered with out really thinking about it, but it wasn’t like he would’ve said no to her anyway.

“Adrien do you really think that’s a good idea. She should come home with me.” Alya offered.

“Hello I’m still here. Alya you don’t have to babysit me. I’m good. Go have fun with Nino, don’t let me ruin your night.”

“Are you sure Mari? I really don’t mind.” Alya looked at Marinette, clearly worried.

“Hey guys, we don’t have time to for this. The press is heading this way.” Nino said, looking over his shoulder.

“Shit… Shit. Adrien, you better take good care of her, or you’ll have me to answer too.” Alya gave Marinette a kiss and her bag then nudged the two towards to road. “Quick grab that taxi.”

Adrien grabbed Marinette’s hand, he looked down at her and she nodded. “Don’t worry Al. You know I will.” He yelled over his shoulder as the two ran towards the taxi. His sensitive hearing heard her reply as they jumped into the taxi.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about Agreste.”

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

[fangzeronos]

Raven Ravishes Robins Ch. 2: Tim

Ch. 1

Raven could feel Tim’s emotions getting the better of him in the office. She looked over from her desk, seeing the oak doors of his office shut, but she knew on instinct he’d had at least seven cups of coffee since that morning, op top of the four he’d drank before leaving Wayne Manor. Raven knew the mergers were on his mind, since taking Kord Industries and PalmerTech were big steps Bruce wanted him to do, even if it meant that Wayne Enterprises would own controlling shares in two companies owned by Bruce’s friends.

 Raven sighed to herself, shaking her head before she got up, undoing a couple of buttons on her top so the top of her lace bra was just starting to show. Seducing Tim to get him to release some stress was starting to become a part of her job, and she wondered to herself if she could get paid for it. She walked over and knocked on the office door, walking in before she shut the door softly, clicking the lock closed before seeing Tim on the phone, pacing the office.

 “No, I don’t care if he’s got something else going on. Mr. Wayne wants these mergers signed tonight. I can’t take that for an answer, Mr. Carter. Mr. Kord needs to be the one to sign this document,” Tim said, pinching his nose. “Just have him call me, Mr. Carter. No, you’ve done enough.” He turned and slammed the phone down, growling before launching his coffee cup across the office, hearing it shatter into the empty coffee pot. Tim flinched, sighing as he sank into his chair.

 “Kord’s still dodging the phone?” Raven asked, walking over, sitting on the edge of the desk, crossing her legs. Clad in a short skirt and purple silk leggings that peeked under the hem of her skirt, her blouse unbuttoned at the top and showing a sizeable amount of skin, Raven had a feeling that morning she’d need to destress Tim in a very familiar way, one she honestly admitted to herself she never could get enough of.

 Tim looked over at Raven and nodded. “His “Golden Boy” keeps answering the phone. Luckily, Ray Palmer called. He’ll be here tomorrow to sign PalmerTech to Wayne Enterprises. Unfortunately, Bruce wanted them done tonight,” he said, running his hand in his hair and sighing. He shook his head, pressing his hands to his eyes. He dropped his hands, fingers drumming on the desktop. “I don’t know what to do.”

 “You need to relax,” Raven said, sliding over a bit until her legs were in Tim’s view. “You’ve been up eighty hours, drank most of the coffee in the building, and have barely eaten. I can’t force you to eat or sleep, but I can take away some of the current stress.”

 “How?” Tim asked, looking up at Raven who took his hand, putting it on her thigh as she uncrossed her legs, his fingers squeezing her covered thigh. “Raven. We almost got caught the last time.”

 “That’s why I locked the door,” Raven said, pulling Tim’s hand closer to her core. “Besides, you haven’t ever taken me over this desk. You’ve done me over Dick’s, Megan’s, and in the copier room. My tits were on the scanner, remember? A thousand photocopies of my tits, one of which you scanned back into the computer and put as your desktop background, remember?”

 Tim blinked. “You knew?” he asked, his fingers finding their destination before he started rubbing Raven’s pussy though her underwear.

 Raven smirked, biting her lip as she felt Tim’s fingers brushing against her thong covered cunt, her lips starting to leak at his touch and thought of his cock in her mouth soon. “Of course, I knew. You asked me to get something off of your computer and I saw them. I’ll have to just let you get a picture after we’re done today,” she said, reluctantly pulling Tim’s fingers away from her pussy.

 She pushed him back, dropping to her knees before unbuttoning her top, letting it slide down and give him a view of her tits clad in a lacey purple bra. Raven slid her hands up Tim’s thighs, her fingers cupping his bulge though his pants.

 “Fuck,” Tim groaned, looking down at Raven who was smirking as his eyes locked onto her tits. “Never did tell me what size those things on.”

 Raven looked down and smiled. “Depending on where I buy my bras that month, they’re between F and G. Either way, they’re still big enough to get attention from men and women. You wouldn’t believe how many girls have played with these babies in the gym,” she said. She undid his belt, pulling it out of the loops and tossing it aside before opening his pants up and fishing his cock out, lithe fingers gripping him and stroking slowly.

 “Raven…” Tim groaned, his hands clenching around the armrests of his chair. He groaned as he felt Raven’s tongue against the head of his cock, moaning softly.

 Raven kissed the tip of Tim’s cock, opening her mouth before taking Tim in, bobbing her head to go deep. She loved how he tasted, even when he was stressed out. In her mind, the stress made him taste better, but that was probably her inner demon fueling that particular lust.

 Raven dropped her hands as she felt his hand in her hair, reaching behind her and undoing her bra before tossing it to the floor. Reaching back up, she tugged on her nipples, squeezing her tits before moaning around Tim’s shaft. She reached down and pulled her skirt up, dipping her hand into her panties and playing with her clit slowly as she kept sucking Tim’s cock.

 Tim groaned, his fingers threading in Raven’s violet locks. He closed his eyes, feeling her tongue swirling around his cock, moaning softly. “Raven, fuck…how’d you get so good…?”

 Raven pulled off of Tim, licking her lips and smirking. “If I told you, I would be breaking some very important trusts, and I will not get in trouble if I tell you her name,” she said. She licked Tim’s cock from base to tip, feeling him harden in her hand as she ran her tongue against him. Bringing her head back up, she took him back into her mouth, bobbing deeper and feeling her lipstick smear against his shaft.

 “Her, hm?” Tim asked, fingers twisting in Raven’s hair. He groaned softly, his hips thrusting up into Raven’s mouth and making her gag around his cock. “Fuck…Zatanna? Or was it Karen? M’gann’s too damn innocent.”

 Raven reached down, grabbing Tim’s testicles before she squeezed, his gasp of pain enough to stop him talking as she pulled her mouth off, teeth nipping his crown. “Timothy. You can stop trying to get answers out of me. I will never reveal. Now. I’ll let your balls go and keep blowing you, but you have to be good and stop questioning who taught me to suck cock. Understand?” she asked, tightening her grip lightly.

 Tim winced, wanting to try and pull away but knowing better. He nodded, looking down at Raven. “I’ll behave,” he said, visibly starting to sweat.

 Raven smiled, letting go of Tim’s balls before she kissed his cock, swirling her tongue around his tip before she stood up, tugging the skirt down. “Good boy,” she said, turning and laying her torso on the desk, her stiff nipples pushing into the cold glass top of the massive desk with her heeled feet still on the ground. “Now. Get on your knees and eat my pussy.”

 Tim dropped to the ground, his hands sliding up Raven’s legs as he kissed the backs of her thighs. He slid his hands up slowly, caressing every inch of skin he could reach. He knew Raven only wore the leggings to torture him, and goddamn if it didn’t get him hard as diamond every time.

 He playfully smacked her ass, watching her cheeks jiggle from the force. Raven’s moan at the slap made his heart race, and he slapped her ass again. He pulled her panties down, snickering when he saw how wet she was as the lacy undergarment didn’t want to come away without a fight. He slid them down her legs, lifting her left leg and letting the soaked thong bunch around her right ankle. Tim kept ahold of Raven’s leg, leaning forward before sticking his tongue out as he moved closer to her dripping core.

 Raven moaned, feeling Tim’s tongue against her pussy. She bit her lip, wiggling her hips against his face and pushing back as his tongue attacked her clit. “Fuck…I love when you eat my pussy,” she whispered. She whimpered as she felt Tim’s fingers pushing into her, pushing back against his digits.

 “Fuck, you always taste good,” Tim said, wrapping his lips around Raven’s clit and sucking on the nub softly, making her scream out. “New soap?”

“Mm…lavender and jasmine,” Raven moaned, her hips wiggling against his face. “Thought…I’d do something new today…”

 Tim smiled, pushing his fingers deeper into Raven as he attacked her clit with his tongue. “Mmm…I love it,” he said, pushing against her most sensitive spot, making her scream out again. He pulled his fingers out of Raven, bringing them to his lips and sucking her juices off of his digits, standing up and smacking Raven’s ass again. He rubbed his cock between her ass, moaning softly.

 “I don’t think so,” Raven moaned, reaching back before pushing Tim away from her before she stood up. She looked over and smirked, grabbing Tim’s tie and walked him over to the couch, throwing him down before she climbed on top of him, grinding her core against his shaft, feeling him rub her clit on each movement.

 “Raven…don’t tease,” Tim moaned. “Please.”

 Raven ground against Tim’s cock, looking down at him before placing his hands above his head. “Grip the arm. Don’t touch,” she said. “You touch me at any point, I get dressed and leave you with a raging boner you’ll be unable to get to go away.”

 Tim nodded, looking up at Raven and smiling. “As you wish.” He gripped the arm of the couch, intending on not breaking the rules since he loved watching Raven’s body bouncing on his cock or writhing under him.

 Raven smirked, reaching down to grab Tim’s cock, stroking him slowly before she sat up slowly, pushing him against her entrance before sliding down, taking him all the way to the base. She moaned as Tim stretched her walls, rolling her hips slowly as she got used to him being inside again. She started to work her hips against Tim’s, watching his eyes as he tried to focus on her and not lose his grip on the couch at the same time.

 “Fuck, Raven…” he moaned, biting his lip as he bucked his hips to meet Raven’s thrust. “God…you feel so fucking good…”

 Raven moaned softly, smiling as she leaned down and kissed Tim. “You feel good inside me,” she said, twisting her hips and slamming down onto him. She leaned back and rested her hands against his legs, starting to drive her hips down harder onto his cock, feeling him reaching her deepest spots. She shifted at just the right angle, feeling his cockhead push against her spot, moaning as he did. “Fuck…”

 Tim smiled, watching Raven’s tits bouncing as she kept thrusting. He wanted nothing more then to surge forward and suck on them as he pounded her into the couch, but he was determined to stay where he was. Settling on pushing up into her, Tim focused on Raven’s face, watching as her eyes rolled in pleasure. “Fuck, Rae. You’re getting so tight!” he moaned.

 “I’m so close,” Raven moaned. She slowed her hips, a devilish glint in her eyes. She pushed off of Tim, moaning as his cock left her pussy and hearing him whimper under her. She rolled her eyes, turning around and facing the wall before she grabbed him and slid back onto him, knowing he couldn’t resist her ass.

 As Raven’s thrusts resumed, Tim growled in his throat, knowing Raven’s game. “That’s fucking evil,” he said, looking at the ashen-skinned woman as he thrust up to match her movements. “You’re a fucking evil woman, Raven!”

 “You love it,” Raven said, slamming her hips back down and whimpering as she moved her hand down to play with her clit. She leaned back, letting her hair fall onto Tim’s chest as she kept thrusting, knowing what she was doing to him.

 Tim growled, unable to stand it anymore. Letting go of the couch, Tim surged forward and knocked Raven onto her hands and knees, one hand on her hip and the other reaching under her to grab a tit, pinching her nipple between his fingers. “Fucking tease,” he growled, slamming into Raven’s pussy, making her mewl in pleasure. “You were teasing me the whole goddamn time.” He pinched her nipple harder, her pussy tightening around his cock. “You love me playing with your tits, don’t you? It makes you cum so fucking hard, doesn’t it?”

 Raven nodded, panting as she moved her hand to play with her clit. She felt her body tightening up, knowing her orgasm was so damned close. “Fuck…yes…” she moaned, groaning as she felt Tim slam his cock into her depths. “Fuck me…fuck me until I cum on that goddamn glorious cock, Tim!”

 Tim moved his hand off of Raven’s hip, smacking her ass as he did. He repeated the process on the other cheek before he reached up and grabbed Raven’s hair, pulling her head back and making her gasp. Slamming into her, he pinched her nipple and tugged, making her scream out. “Fuck…cum, you horny fucking secretary. I want you to cum on my cock before I cum in you,” he said.

 Raven panted and moaned, her fingers going at a fast pace on her clit before her body gave out. She screamed as she felt herself come undone, her orgasm ripping through her with the combination of Tim’s cock plowing her depths, his fingers pinching her nipples and her own fingers on her clit. Her eyes rolled back, unable to fall forward thanks to Tim’s grip in her hair.

 “Fuck…” Raven panted, her tongue teasing her lips. “Fucking…cum in me, Tim. Mark my cunt as yours…fuck…”

 Tim smiled, letting Raven’s hair go as he grabbed her hips and started plowing into her faster. He slammed into her one last time, his own orgasm ripping through him as he felt his balls tighten, spilling his load into Raven’s needy and wet pussy. He panted, his body covered in sweat as he leaned forward, his chest pressed against Raven’s back, not caring he was probably ruining a shirt and tie. He kissed her neck, making her shudder in a post-orgasmic bliss.

 Raven moaned as Tim pulled out of her, holding her hand down to her gaping pussy as his cum tried to leak out of her. She muttered a spell, the cum disappearing from her pussy, the bluenette slowly sitting up and panting as she licked her lips. “Better?” she asked.

 Tim sighed as he sat back panting before he nodded. “Much…” he said, wiping his face. “Fuck.”

 “You just did,” Raven said, getting up and heading for the desk, her legs shaking in her heels as she bent over to grab her panties and bra. As she slipped the garments on, she heard the lock click, her eyes going wide as the door opened, her hands covering her tits in her bra.

 Bruce Wayne stepped into the room, looking at the state of the two disheveled young adults, sighing and shaking his head. “Stress relief again, Tim?” he asked, doing his best to avert his eyes from Ravens’ half-naked body.

 Tim nodded. “The mergers were stressing me. Raven felt it, and…”

 “Helped,” Bruce said. “Got it. Ms. Roth, please get dressed and get back to your desk. I’ll discuss this with you later.”

 Raven nodded, grabbing her skirt to pull it back on before she pulled her blouse back on and buttoned it, straightening out before she walked out, looking over at Tim who smiled. She smiled lightly, walking out before shutting the door behind her. As she sat at her desk, her face got red and she bit her lip, squeezing her thighs together at the thoughts of what she’d do to Bruce fucking Wayne if given the chance.

[morningfears]

Same Ole Situation [Chapter One]

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18!

Summary: Venus (whose real name is still a mystery, even to those closes to her) loves a good party just as much as the next person but when she’s got an entire tour to prepare the wardrobe for, she just wants to get to work. But when the band she works for is going on tour with one of the biggest bands in rock and roll, she can’t really turn down the party invite. Especially when her best friend insists she join him. Ashton just wants to live his rockstar fantasy. What happens when it turns out to be more than any of them could’ve ever imagined? (Featuring Motley Crue!)

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Drug use (cocaine, heroin), exhibitionism, very brief mention of harassment (like, blink and you’ll miss it but still).

Disclaimer: This is fiction. It is not meant to represent anything real, even if it alludes to things that did happen to actual people in the 1980s. It’s not meant to be historically accurate or suggest anything about anyone.

Los Angeles, October 1986

“This is fucking insane.”

Venus hears a murmur of agreement from the group standing behind her as they stand in the paved driveway and stare up at the massive mansion in front of them. It is, without question, the biggest dwelling any of them have ever seen and it takes a moment for each of them to comprehend the grandeur of it all.

It takes even longer for them to comprehend that this is where the party is going to be held.

“I honestly feel like I don’t even belong in this neighborhood, let alone this fucking house,” Calum breathes, his words leaving his lips in an exhale of cigarette smoke. “What the fuck did we sign up for?”

“A tour with Mötley fucking Crüe,” Michael reminds him with a grin. “This is gonna be the best,” he cheers, his words already slurring as he gestures to the mansion in front of the group.

The others, although somewhat uneasy, cheer at Michael’s words. Calum takes the bottle of Jack from his hand, downs a gulp of whiskey, and passes the bottle to Luke. “Something feels weird,” Luke murmurs before he takes his own gulp from the bottle. “Something’s not right,” he asserts as he passes the bottle to his most recent girlfriend (Lucy? Lacey? Lisa? No one is really sure).

“That’s the drugs, mate,” Ashton reminds him as he grabs the bottle from Luke’s girl and takes a gulp. “Makes you paranoid. Come on, it’s a party,” he reminds them with a grin as he glances at the group of giggling girls, all scantily clad, stumbling up the driveway toward the open front door, “what could go wrong at a party?”

“A lot,” Luke murmurs, his eyes heavy and words slurring. “A lot can go wrong, mate.”

Ashton ignores Luke’s comment and shakes his head. He feels good. He’s on top of the world, living the live he’s always imagined, and he’s not going to let Luke’s drug-induced paranoia sour his mood. Instead, he chooses to ignore Luke’s words as he tosses his arm around his best friend’s shoulders and lets his fingers tap a rhythm only he can hear against her skin. The pair of them lead the group up the driveway, Michael and Calum cracking jokes and laughing with the girls they’d brought along while Luke and his girl (Luna, maybe?) trail behind and speak in hushed whispers.

“She gives me the fucking creeps,” Ashton hears Venus murmur as they move closer to the front door. “Ever since he and Hannah broke up, he’s been bouncing between groupies and each one is harder to deal with than the last. Like, I get it. Fuck whoever you want. But, Jesus, they don’t have to be so fucking awful.”

“She’s a cunt,” Ashton agrees with a laugh. 

“What’s her fucking name?” Venus (whose real name is, ironically, just as much a mystery to the group) asks as she returns her full attention to Ashton.

“Lauren, maybe?” Ashton shrugs as he takes the bottle of Jack from Calum’s outstretched hand.

“I thought it was Lilly,” Calum’s friend for the night offers as she brushes a lock of platinum blonde hair from her eyes. “Or maybe Lana…”

“Do you even care?” Michael asks with a laugh as he closes the distance between himself and Ashton and Venus to grab the bottle from the pair of them.

Venus pauses for a moment, pretends to think about it, before she shakes her head. “I really don’t.”

“Well,” Michael hums, pausing to take another sip from the bottle, “I care about getting inside. I’ve heard their parties are fucking insane.” He glances at the rush of people stumbling up the driveway past their small group and grins as he catches sight of mini skirts and high heels. “This is what being a rockstar is all about.”

“I thought it was about the music, asshole,” Calum teases as he drops his finished cigarette to the pavement and crushes it beneath the heel of his boot. “Isn’t that what you always tell us?”

“The times, my friend,” Michael trails off as he locks eyes with a woman Venus is certain has graced the pages of Playboy at least once.

“They’re changing?” Venus finishes, an eyebrow raised in half-amusement. When Michael shoots her a grin and a wink, she rolls her eyes and turns to Ashton once more. “You sure letting these assholes loose in a Mötley Crüe party is a good idea?”

“It’s the worst fucking idea any of us has ever had,” Ashton informs her with a grin, “but it’s going to be a great night.”

The others in their group echo Ashton’s sentiment and release a happy cheer as they pick up the pace toward the front door. As the boys murmur about the girls they already see milling about the driveway and near the front door, Calum and Michael’s girls close in on Venus. “There are tons of bands here,” Calum’s girl informs Venus with a grin as she obnoxiously pops the bright pink gum in her mouth. “Gonna find a hot rockstar for yourself?” she asks with a faux innocent tilt of her head.

Venus wants to roll her eyes at this. Calum’s girl has been making eyes at Ashton for the better part of the night and when she’d learned that the two of them weren’t together, it only made her more eager to go for it. Venus has half a mind to remind her that she’s with Calum, not Ashton, but she doesn’t want to seem like a jealous bitch. So, instead she shrugs. “I’m not a groupie,” Venus informs her. “Not interested in fucking rockstars who never even learned my name.”

“We’ve been friends for four years and I still don’t know your real name,” Calum reminds her as Luke and his girl catch up to their group.

“Guess that means I’m never gonna fuck you, Cal,” she counters with a grin before she sends a half-hearted smirk to his date for the evening. “Don’t get too fucked up tonight, yeah? You guys are recording tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry, mom,” Calum teases with a roll of his eyes. “We’ll all get super hammered and record through our hangovers tomorrow,” he promises her before he presses a kiss to her cheek and steps around her to enter the fray.

Michael raises his hand in a mock salute and grins at her. “I’ll make sure to pass out somewhere convenient for you guys to get me home,” he promises before he mimics Calum’s kiss on the cheek and drags the girl he’d brought but wouldn’t be leaving with further into the crowd.

Luke and his girl wander past Ashton and Venus without a word, neither of them looking wholly like they know that they’re even at a party, and Venus shakes her head. “Fucking creepy bitch,” she huffs before she turns to glance at Ashton. “Have fun, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Same goes to you,” he points out before he leans in and presses a kiss of his own to the corner of her mouth. “See you in the morning, V,” he calls before he allows himself to be swept up into the madness that is the party they’re attending.

Venus watches the boys disappear in various directions before she shakes her head and glances around for the kitchen. She’s assuming they’ll have good booze, if the show of wealth is anything to judge them on, and isn’t disappointed to find the counter littered with bottle after bottle of booze and various party favors lying around. She rolls her eyes at the insanity of it all as she fills her glass.

Four years ago, even a fraction of the alcohol in her bloodstream would’ve been enough to knock her on her ass. A glimpse of a joint or a baggie of cocaine would’ve been enough to send her running for the hills, desperate to be anywhere else in case something bad happened, but after four years of working with the boys, she doesn’t even blink as she catches sight of someone doing a line off a stripper’s breast. The lethal amounts of drugs sitting out in the open, the sight of a band member getting a blowjob in the middle of the living room, the shattered glass littering the floor where someone dropped it but couldn’t be fucked cleaning it up; Venus barely notices it anymore.

What she does notice, however, is the tall man with black hair eying her from across the room the moment she steps into the living room.

She’s gotten used to ignoring rockstars’ advances. She’s trying to make a name for herself as a designer and has been on tour with the boys for a better part of the four years she’s known them. She’s made everything from stage clothes to casual wear for them and doesn’t want anyone to even consider the idea that fucking some asshole who can’t even tune his own guitar is what has kept her in the game for so long. So, she doesn’t let anyone who even looks like they play an instrument get too close.

Ashton included.

The first night they met, Ashton was sure that he was going to end up with Venus in his bed. The band was getting bigger, girls were throwing themselves at their feet and the party was just getting started, but Venus didn’t give a shit about what band he was in. She didn’t care that he could twirl his drumsticks and he’d nearly asked what was wrong with her when she turned down his offer to buy her a drink but now, four years and a solid friendship later, he’s glad that she’s still in his life.

Their relationship was strictly professional in the beginning, they only saw each other when she needed to make alterations or fit them for new designs. However, long nights preparing for tour turned into them bringing her along to make alterations as needed on the road. Venus became a permanent part of their tour family and an even more permanent part of Ashton’s life. The pair of them live together, along with Calum, and she’s certain she wouldn’t have it any other way.

She’s also glad that he didn’t walked away the night that she told him to go fuck himself.

She’s assuming that the tall man approaching her is going to be much the same in terms of persistency, only this time, she hopes that he does take the hint and walk away when she tells him to fuck himself.

“Haven’t I seen you around somewhere?” he asks, a charming smile on his lips as he leans in close enough for her to hear him speak.

“I doubt it,” she hums before she takes a sip of her drink. “I travel a lot.”

“Yeah?” he asks as he unabashedly checks her out. “Me, too.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes lingering on her breasts, before he meets her eyes once more. “I’m Tommy.”

“I’m not interested,” she returns as she turns her head to glance out at the group of people milling about the open space.

Tommy is momentarily taken aback before he grins and laughs. “Damn, you’re mean. I like it,” he informs her before he gulps down the remainder of his drink and gestures to her glass. “I’m gonna get another drink. You want one?”

“No,” she breathes before she thinks better of herself and adds, “thanks, though.” He’s not quite getting the hint but his heart seems to be in the right place, she thinks, as she watches him nod.

“I’ll catch you around, then,” he nods. “And maybe I’ll catch your name before the night’s over.”

She doesn’t reply. Instead, she offers a half-shrug meant to be vague enough to keep him from trying even harder and he seems to accept it as he grins at her once more before disappearing in the crowd. She rolls her eyes, not nearly intoxicated enough to deal with this, before she follows his lead and gulps down the rest of her drink. 

She decides to avoid the kitchen for the time being, hoping that she can avoid Tommy, and decides to take a seat on the leather sofa near the wall of windows. She doesn’t much feel like partying, not when she doesn’t know half the people wandering around the room and she’s fresh off a cross-country flight with way too much work to do the next morning. She thinks that maybe she should find Ashton, tell him that she just wants to go back to their place and get some sleep, but before she can move, a hand enters her field of vision.

She can see a rolled bill between the man’s fingers and she frowns as she turns her head to meet his gaze. He’s leaned back against the couch, an arm slung over the back as he raises an eyebrow at her. He looks similar to Tommy, long black hair teased to hell and back with a cocky smirk on his lips, and she wants to roll her eyes as she asks, “What do you expect me to do with this?”

“You look like you could use something to get you out of your head,” he offers, expression never faltering as he gestures to the lines cut on the table. When Venus continues to stare at him, eyes narrowed and suspicious, he laughs. “I was just offering,” he shrugs as he sits up and moves closer to the table. “But if you’re not interested…”

She watches him lean down and snort a line before he sits back up and reaches for a different rolled bill. She stares at it for a moment as the voice inside her head tells her to get up and walk away. However, she decides that she wants to enjoy herself. She’d rather be too high to remember being miserable than too sober to experience every moment of it. So, after a moment of hesitation, she takes the bill from his fingers and rolls her eyes at the grin on his lips when she moves closer to him to reach the table.

The man beside her doesn’t move so she’s forced to lean over his lap as she stretches to reach the drug. She can tell that he’s enjoying this position, if the grin on his lips is anything to go by, but doesn’t let herself dwell on it as she does a line of her own. The man looks somewhat impressed as she tosses the bill onto the table without so much as flinching and Venus rolls her eyes when he shifts closer to her.

“Why are you here when you clearly don’t want to be?” he asks as he tilts his head to get a better look at her. 

His tone isn’t judgmental nor is it rude. It’s just curious, she notes, as she turns her head to face him. She allows her eyes to roam over his face, to take in the smudged black eyeliner around his eyes, before they trail down to the expanse of chest exposed by his unbuttoned shirt. He’s beautiful, that much she can admit, and she wants to look away. Venus doesn’t want to let her guard down and get too comfortable because even though she’s gotten good at turning down rockstars, she’ll be the first to admit that it’s hard. Especially when they’re fun to look at. And she knows that with the drug soon to be coursing through her system, it’ll be even harder to turn this one down.

However, she reminds herself to stay strong. Judging by the look in his eye and the smirk quirking his lips, he’s more trouble than he’s worth.

“You done checking me out?” he asks after a moment of silence.

Venus blinks before she glances up to meet his eyes once more. He looks amused now, nearly giddy, and she does roll her eyes. “Bite me,” she huffs before she reaches out to grab the bottle of Jack off the table.

“Sure,” he shrugs, smirk prominent on his lips as he reaches out to grab the bottle of Jack from her, “but I didn’t think you’d be into that sort of thing.”

Venus rolls her eyes before she watches the man take a gulp of whiskey from the bottle. His eyes never leave hers, even as he leans forward to return the bottle to the table. It’s stupid, a fucking staring contest to see if he can get her to blink, but she doesn’t relent. She meets his amused gaze with her own level one and waits for him to be the one to give up.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he reminds her as he shifts a little closer to her.

“Do you really want an answer?”

He pretends to think for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he sees the fire in her eyes and hears the challenge in her words. “No, not really,” he finally answers.

Venus’ own eyes narrow and she can feel the frown on her face. She isn’t sure what to make of the man in front of her. Usually, she’s good at reading the asshole rockstars who hit on her. They stare at her tits, try to sweet talk her, flash their wealth, or even go so far as to attempt to touch her. This man, however, has done none of those things. He hasn’t followed the pattern his predecessors have set and that throws Venus off enough to make her blink. Across from her, the man grins and reaches for the bottle once more.

The pair of them sit in relative silence for what feels like a lifetime. Venus stares unabashedly at the man beside her, attempting to read him, as he lazily glances around the room. She can feel the drug beginning to take hold in her mind. She can feel her heart beginning to race and her judgement clouding. She’s no stranger to a casual hookup, she does let loose and have fun every now and again, but hooking up with a rockstar is something she’s tried her hardest to avoid (she won’t admit it to anyone but she failed and hooked up with some guitarist after getting a little too fucked up on her first tour with the boys).

However, she can feel her resolve crumbling the moment the man turns his head to look at her once more.

“Who the fuck are you?” she manages to ask, even though she can feel the sense of euphoria building in her mind and threatening to drown out anything that isn’t going to contribute to her high.

“Who the fuck are you?” he returns, voice just as amused as it’s been the entire time she’s sat with him.

She’s impressed that he didn’t fire back with some variation of, “Don’t you know who I think I am?” He’s completely dodged every rockstar cliche she’s catalogued in her brain and it annoys her. She’s not afraid of a challenge but some things should just be easy, like knowing when a man is more trouble than he’s worth. This one, however, is proving to be difficult and she doesn’t like it.

As she stares at him, eyes narrowed and frown on her lips, he rolls his eyes and moves closer to her. One of his hands grips her thigh while the other moves to the back of her neck as he leans in to kiss her. Venus is surprised but she finds herself leaning into the kiss rather than pushing him away. She knows that it’s a bad idea, knows that rockstars only mean trouble, but she can’t bring herself to care as she feels the drug fully settling into her body. She feels her high begin to envelope her and all she can focus on is the taste of whiskey and cigarettes as she returns the kiss.

His hand moves up her thigh and dips beneath her black leather skirt. She can feel the callouses on his fingers, confirming her suspicions that he is, indeed, a musician. However, that realization doesn’t even begin to faze her as he nudges her thighs apart. She wants to care that he’s got his hand up her skirt in the middle of a crowded living room but, if she’s being honest, she doesn’t. She knows that this isn’t the most fucked up thing anyone has seen over the course of the night and she’s certain that their’s won’t be the only act of exhibitionism anyone witnesses. So she gives in to the high, gives in to the man whose teeth are sinking into her bottom lip as his fingers nudge the material of her panties to the side.

His hands are rough but skilled. Her fingers tangle in his hair as his thumb brushes her clit before he sinks two fingers into her heat. He’s able to keep a steady rhythm despite the stimulants coursing through his system and Venus can’t help but imagine how good other aspects of this man will be as she shifts closer to him.

Across the room, Ashton and Calum stand with a group of girls who are all too aware that the boys will be opening up for Mötley Crüe on their latest tour. They understand that these girls only see them as a steeping stone to the bigger stars but they don’t care. It’s fun, it’s relatively harmless, and everyone gets something from it. Why question a good thing?

However, before he can get too comfortable with one of the girls, Ashton hears someone exclaim, “Fucking Nikki!”

He glances over to see Tommy, Mötley’s drummer, shaking his head and turning back to the kitchen. He turns his head to see what had caused the exclamation and nearly drops the glass in his hand when he realizes what he’s looking at. “What the fuck?” he exclaims, his voice louder than he intended. “Is she fucking stupid?”

Calum, surprised by the sudden outburst, turns his head to follow Ashton’s gaze. When he sees Venus on the couch with Nikki Sixx, his hand up her skirt and hers unbuttoning his pants, he blinks. “Whoa,” he laughs as he shakes his head. “Didn’t think the first rockstar she hooked up with would be him but good for her.”

“What do you fucking mean, good for her?” Ashton questions as he turns to face Calum. “She deserves better.”

“Chill out, mate,” Calum huffs as he nods to the counter where lines have been cut. “Take a bump. She’s enjoying herself, you should, too.” When he sees that Ashton wants to argue, Calum rolls his eyes. “She’s an adult, Ash. She can do whatever the fuck she wants. Or do whoever the fuck she wants,” he amends as he glances over to see Venus on Nikki’s lap, skirt bunched around her waist and hands gripping his shoulders. “Jesus, she’s hot. How the fuck did he manage that?”

“Everyone wants Nikki,” one of the girls with them giggles. “He’s gorgeous and, like, totally fucking rad.”

Her friend nods in agreement but Ashton doesn’t pay them any mind as he glares at the pair of them on the sofa. Venus and Nikki are making no attempts to hide what they’re doing (he suspects the massive amount of blow on the table in front of them has something to do with that) and the cocky smirk on Nikki’s face as Venus rides him makes Ashton’s blood boil.

Venus’ eyes are screwed shut, her mind blank of anything except the man beneath her as she feels his fingers dig into her skin. He’s letting her do most of the work, letting her fuck herself on his cock as he watches her tits bounce, and she feels as if her heart is going to explode as her orgasm builds. She doesn’t even attempt to keep her moans quiet and she can hear cheering from some of the partygoers as she begins to fall over the edge but that only spurs her on.

Nikki cums not long after Venus and the pair remain still for a moment before she moves off of his lap and returns to her seat beside him. She tugs her skirt back down as he tucks himself back into his pants before she leans over and grabs the bottle of Jack from the table. After she takes a gulp, she passes it to him and he smirks at her.

“Nikki,” he introduces as he passes the bottle back.

“Venus,” she returns, and just like that, she can feel the shift in the air.

As Venus attempts to wrap her hazy mind around what’s happening, the party goes on. 

Ashton follows Calum’s advice and takes a bump. After fifteen minutes, he can’t remember what he was so angry about and doesn’t attempt to stop the hot blonde from dropping to her knees in front of him. Calum, who usually prefers to keep his wits at least somewhat about him, manages to keep his clothes on but does find himself downing more Jack than he probably should. Michael, whose date for the evening has gone on to bigger and better rockstars, finds himself with his head between the thighs of a gorgeous brunette as the rest of the party cheers around him. And Luke, who is farther gone than even he realizes, finds himself holed up in a bathroom with Laura and more China White than either of them need.

It’s the same ole situation, the same story they’ve all heard a million times before, only this time, they’re the ones living it.

Author’s Note: Again, I promise there will be more Ashton. This is just. To get us started? And I honestly wanted an excuse to write Nikki smut, whoops. The Dirt reminded me how in love with him I was as a kid, tbh. Also, you can imagine whichever Mötley you want. Personally, I imagine MGK!Tommy and real Nikki but, like. Whatever floats your boat. Also, if anyone wants an actual fic for one of them, let me know.