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ollypopwrites · 8 months ago

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Dinner and Diatribes;

Gale x F!Tav (she/her, AFAB) [note: references to the fact Tav is Curvy but there’s no descriptors on her appearance besides what she’s wearing]

Summary: Gale gets his perfect night in Waterdeep.

Rating: M (18+ MDNI)

CW: smut (oral sex, PiV sex, fingering, slight overstim, references to Dom!Gale but he doesn’t actually make an appearance this time), insecurity, General Mystra Warning, L-bombs

Word count: 4.5k

Notes: this was originally written with my SorcBard Tav in mind. They end up together post-game and Tav and Gale have not been with each other physically as of yet.

Read on Ao3

Tav appraised her appearance one last time, nerves bubbling up in her when she knew there ought not to be any. She was having dinner with Gale, not a stranger.

Yet, she tugged at the lacy sleeves of her tunic, the cream colored fabric dangling off her shoulders and belling at the sleeves. Her breasts were up and out, figure tucked and smoothed by the sturdy corset she wore. The wrap skirt, slit at the leg with stockings underneath, was periwinkle, hugged her hips and showed some skin. She had wanted to veer away from the normally shapeless practicality of the protective gear she wore throughout their journey.

And she found the delicate pale blue embroidery against the white fabric of the garment to be quite pretty, the silk bows that served as sleeves made her think of romantic ballads. She felt delight at wearing something pretty without thinking of practicality for the first time since being taken by the nautiloid. There was a novelty to sitting down to take time to get ready for something fun rather than something that could potentially end with blood and death.

Her eyes drifted over to the corner of the room that until recently had housed a small altar to the Mother of Magic.

In its place was a vase of flowers, Tav’s favorite colors and blooms, which had appeared that morning. The altar itself had mysteriously disappeared the day after they first arrived in Waterdeep. Neither of them had said anything about it, but she knew he had seen her staring at the dusty offerings and long burnt incense laid at the feet of an idol of his former lover.

With one last look in the mirror she bolstered herself. She was no goddess but she had defeated a Vampire Lord, undead generals, a 200 year curse, hordes of goblins and a Netherbrain. That had to count for something.

Taking a deep breath she left through the bedroom door, and was met by Gale.

Well, Gale’s double. A projection, as he was often fond of using.

“Greetings! I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep!”

“Oh, are you?” She asked sarcastically.

“I am indeed!”

Sarcasm was not translated into the projection it seemed.

“If you are ready for the evening to begin, please say so, if not, I shall await your confirmation.”

Tav smiled a little, “I’m ready.”

“Please follow me.”

She followed him down to the same level as the study, and she found herself confused. They were meant to be having dinner. The whole package, she had recalled, he wanted to wine and dine her. She expected to be escorted to the dining room, not the study.

The door was closed, and the projection gave a polite bow to signal its leave. Should she knock? Uncertain, she gripped the door handle and opened the door.

Immediately she was confronted with a wave of unfamiliar smells. Normally the study smelt like the fireplace, leather of bound books, ink and slight sea air from the terrace. Instead this smelled of savory food, crisp night air, and heavy sea spray. The entry was draped by lavish silk curtains hiding any view of the room, tassels and embroidered prints creating lovely textures.

Gale stood waiting for her arrival.

His hair was pulled back and pinned neatly in his new fashion of a small bun at the back of his head. He wore a white tunic, billowed sleeves and a jerkin of sapphire blue, embroidered intricately with bronze filigree. Dark blue breeches, and what looked to be blue shoes which matched his vest.

It also looked as if he had trimmed his beard, the lines smooth and incredibly sleek. Tav had certainly noticed how handsome he was during their travels, and even then he was always somewhat genteel despite the rugged conditions.

This was different. He seemed more in his element like this, maybe not quite so formally dressed, but she could imagine this was the Gale Dekarios which caught the eye of a Goddess. Confident, gentlemanly and remarkably good looking.

His eyes lit up at the sight of her.

“Hello,” she said, aware how nervous and jittery her voice was despite her smile.

“Hello,” Gale grinned. “You look… exquisite.”

She blushed. “And you look very good in blue.”

Gale kissed her cheek, and she gripped his face to make sure he kissed her properly. “I’ve prepared everything,” he said. “Are you ready?”

“For you? Always.”

Like a true gentleman, he offered her his arm and she accepted. They walked through the fabric barrier and Tav audibly gasped at the transformation. The study was changed, made to look like an enchanting garden. Lit up by candelabras, framed by arches made of vines and flowers of every color imaginable, it was beautiful.

The view from the terrace had been expanded, so that from every angle a clear view of the glittering lights of Waterdeep glinted. The entire mirage was topped with a star filled sky and the moon hanging at the horizon of the water. She could feel a breeze, not too cold but carrying the scent of the ocean.

A table sat at the center, intimate, and music was playing from some unseen source. Most likely the enchanted piano. Where she knew the terrace was, his couch still stood, overlooking the view. The sounds coming through beyond the music were real, she could tell. It was simultaneously an illusion and blissfully real.

He led her to the table, pulled out her chair for her and then sat across from her. The smile on her face was starting to hurt her cheeks, only emphasized by another Gale projection bringing them wine. They toasted each other and she looked out on the view of the city.

“Do you like it?” He sounded uncertain.

Her hand came out to grab his across the table. “It’s hard to describe, but like isn’t a strong enough word.” She glanced over to the projection of Gale waiting to be summoned for any need they may have, “although I think the waiter fancies me.”

“I applaud his taste.”

It was very clear how meticulously planned the night had been. From the food to the wine, Gale had an exuberant explanation for his choices. For a moment Tav wondered why she would be nervous at all; they had shared every meal together for months. But, Tav knew that this was the courtship he had wanted to offer her, this was the night he wished he could have given her when he thought it was his last back on the road to Moonrise.

Gale, if he was nervous, did not show it. Instead his eyes glinted with excitement, eagerness, and delight. His gaze was so intense on her, she felt like either the wine or something else was making her brain fuzzy.

After dinner they danced, slow uncomplicated movements to the music from the piano for a while, and then settled onto the settee looking out at the water. The night sky was clear, the breeze from the bay adding a bit of chill that balanced out the warmth she felt from the wine. It was a beautiful tapestry of midnight blue and silver of the moon and stars.

She leaned against him half draped over his lap as her legs stretched out, fingers dancing over his palm which lay in her lap. His other hand gently danced over her arm and down her side. She thought she may melt at the warmth of his lips pressed against her bare shoulder, beard softly scratching as he lingered there.

“You ought to be careful, Gale.”

“Oh? What dangers lurk that I am unaware of?”

“The danger of spoiling me rotten,” she chuckled.

“I’m not averse to such a risk,” he nuzzled behind her ear, “quite the opposite, really. You deserve it, and more.”

Her mind rolled over that, heart full at his earnestness as usual. Even if she didn’t believe it, he certainly did.

“Thank you,” she said thoughtfully after a moment. “This night has been so wonderful.”

“It’s not over yet,” he whispered.

A shiver ran down her spine. No words finding their way to her lips.

“If I may be so bold,” he went on, “I’d like to partake in dessert somewhere more private.”

“Tell me, Chef Dekarios, what is on the dessert menu tonight?”

“You,” he said, a grin evident in his voice. “I’d have laid you across the dinner table if I hadn’t promised us both a bed first and foremost. You truly are a temptress,” his hand broke from her loving grasp to run along the curve of her neck, and shoulder, fingers trailing over the tops of her breasts before cupping her chin, “you incite such an insatiable hunger, even when you are doing nothing more than sitting there across from me. If you’ll allow it, I’d like to finally have a taste.”

Tav’s head tipped back, eyes closed as her skin began to flush and her heart began to thud in her chest. “I’ll allow anything you want,” she breathed. “Name it, it’s yours.”

“Tav,” he murmured.

“Yours.” She repeated.

A tug in her stomach and the strange shift of moving through the weave happened so suddenly, she opened her eyes, confused by her new surroundings. She was on her feet, Gale behind her still, but in the bedroom, no longer shrouded by lovely blue night sky but the warmth of a candle lit room and the familiar walls.

Gale murmured something, and then spun her around to kiss her. Needy, fervent meetings of lips, and tongues. Her fists curled into the fabric of his sleeves, and his settled on either side of her face. She felt a tugging at her back, then the cool brush of an unseen hand. He had conjured a mage hand to untie her corset, the fingers pulling at the strings to loosen them.

Before it managed to get them all the way undone, she was fumbling with buttons on his vest. She shrugged the heavy corset off, the thud of it falling to the ground ignored as she pushed his own garment off his shoulders. Before he could distract her with his hands again, she untucked his shirt and pulled the fabric over his head.

Her fingers danced over his warm skin, feeling hair and scars and firm muscle beneath flesh. Gale groaned, bending to grip her by the generous flesh of her thighs to pull her up in his arms, for the quick journey to the bed where he set her down. Her tunic was tugged off, thrown aside and he grunted in displeasure at the thin cloth bandeau that still covered her breasts.

Tav chuckled, grabbing the scrap of fabric and pulling it overhead. Gale’s eyebrows hiked up at the sight of her tits out, heavy and round with already pebbled nipples, and under the scrutiny she felt doubt creep in.

“Not what you were hoping for?” It was half a joke, a deflection for the blush she knew was on her face, something to do besides wrap her arms around herself.

“Are you completely mad?” He finally met her eyes, looking offended. “May I?”

She nodded, only to be firmly guided onto her back as Gale put one knee between her thighs on the bed and leaned forward.

His hands grabbed, not fully able to grasp, even with hands larger than her own. “Soft,” he thought out loud to himself. “How are you so soft?”

“I-I don't know,” she hitched a breathy tone. “Ah, gentle please,” she gasped when he began pinching and rolling the peaks between his fingers, calloused fingers from years of spell work and a combined over-excited pinch both thrilling and overstimulating, “they’re very sensitive.”

“Very important information,” he murmured, running a thumb over one in a soothing motion that still made her gasp out loud. “I wonder…”

The thought trailed off as his mouth clasped around one nipple and Tav gave an undignified squeal as her hips rolled. Too many layers between her skirt and underclothes to provide her the relief she wanted, even with his knee between her thighs. Each brush of his finger over one, followed by a firm squeeze, made her twitch and the laving of his tongue had her letting out soft little moans.

Finally he pulled away, watching as his hands continued where he left off. One hand danced over her soft stomach, and slipped down towards the waistband of her skirt, tickling the skin there until she gasped a laugh. He pushed down her stockings, tugged her skirt off and looked one last time for approval before he slipped her under things down her legs.

For a moment, his eyes darted over her body. Despite the thrill of being at the center of such avid admiration, she felt the need to do something in the face of it. A conflicting moment of uncertainty, the apprehension of him seeing any flaw in her moving her to try distract him. Her fingers came up to grab, but he gently redirected her wrist to his lips.

“You are perfect beyond imagining,” he said.

“You’re a flatterer,” she breathed, her eyes avoiding his, as they trailed over his torso and to the bulge in his breeches.

“I reject that accusation,” he said, grabbing a pillow and tossing it onto the floor before he got to his knees upon it. “I’m an admirer of art.”

Tav rolled her eyes with a half laugh as she allowed her legs to be spread, heels set on the edge of the bed. He kissed each one as he set them where he wanted, beard scratching and tongue peaking out to taste.

She was a little in awe of him like this. His eyes dark, a slight smirk painted onto his face, softened only when he met her eyes and smiled at her. With his broad shoulders forcing her legs wider as he moved further between them, and his hair coming out of his once immaculate bun, she felt her throat run dry and a heat rush through her body as she admired him.

He stopped suddenly, and she met his look of intentional seriousness. “If you need me to stop,” he said, “say the word and we will.”

She nodded her head.

He kissed the inside of her thigh again, before his eyes slid down his hands massaging around her outer lips. She was wet, it had smeared her thighs, that she already knew. A gentle gasp pulled from her lungs as he took his time, rubbing and spreading her, the same look of deep focus on his face as when he was taken with an interesting tome.

Gale rubbed along the seam of her, before spreading her open and gently rubbing her clit. A choked sound emitted from her after he commented, “you’re soaked, my love.”

“All your doing, beloved,” she replied.

“I do love hearing that,” he grinned. “You’ll have to tell me what else I do to you.”

Any response died away when he licked a long stripe along her. The slightest groan came from him, and he began to work. It was agonizing heaven, the filthy sounds as he sucked and licked at her cunt and the way he gripped her thighs only enhancing the actual sensation of his mouth on her.

Half-formed thoughts kept slipping out of her mouth until only single words and whines were all she could muster. Her hands slid over his, and he laced them together, his efforts doubling after the gesture of affection. Her excitement was running so high, anticipation adding to arousal, that she knew she would not last long.

“Gale,” she breathed, “feels so good — so close —“

He never pulled away, just found what was making her legs writhe over his shoulders the most, what made her hips search for friction, and her breath spike. Her hands gripped his so both of them had a firm grip of her thighs, as she suddenly teetered over the edge, heavy waves of pleasure singing in her veins as he licked her through it.

Except once it passed, he did not pull away. It felt good, so she was not going to push him off, but she was sensitive. Each touch of his tongue on her clit felt like a shock through her whole being making her legs clamp around him. He let go of her hands and pushed her thighs apart again, she thought that alone had her ready to fall apart once more.

Relentless and yet somehow still controlled, he was singularly intent on making her come again. The sensation almost scared her as she greedily chanted for more, more, more in her head and maybe aloud, she couldn’t be sure. Gale was groaning into her, the firmness of his grip surprising her still. She wanted him inside of her.

“Please“ she started to beg, “fuck me.”

He gave a moan, the only time she felt him falter. “One more, my love,” he replied. A demand or a promise, maybe both. “Give me one more.”

He let his fingers work over her this time, still between her legs, watching each movement she made. For her credit, she kept her hips and legs from knocking him away, the rest of her body making up for it. Her back arched, she writhed and gripped the bedding beneath her like it was going to anchor her.

When Gale slipped a finger inside of her, easy enough that he tried a second, she went stiff. “Good?”

She nodded her head.

“Words, please, Tav,” he said gently. It occurred to her he may be asking after her wellbeing rather than to tease.

Either way, she loved the feeling in her brain at the idea of it being a demand. Of him tormenting her in the most beautiful way.

“Good!” She blurted out. “So fucking good.”

His mouth had expertly pulled her apart, but she was finding his fingers to be just as talented. She clamped down around the digits pushing in her as she felt herself falling to pieces.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Good, Tav…” when she opened her eyes, she was met with him staring at hers. As if he could read her mind, he went on talking, “come undone for me.”

Her whole being responded to the request, as if he had the ability to command her body with just a word. She writhed and rolled her hips as she came, a truly unrestrained string of cries that she knew were a bit too loud. Gale’s hand cupped her cunt, and she could feel the pulse of it against his hand — his face giving way to pure want as he moaned.

“Alright?” He asked after a moment.

“Would be better if I had you inside of me,”she teased, giddily.

“Minx,” he grumbled, coming to stand.

“Tease,”she shot back sitting up.

When she kissed him he tasted distinctly of her arousal, and somehow it made her heart skip a beat. Her tongue danced over his, hand trailing down his chest to the waistband of his breeches, untying as she went. Her hands slipped inside, grasping through his underclothes at the length of his cock, hard and tenting the fabric.

Gale gave a sinful groan, eyes shut tight and when she started to stroke his jaw went slack.

Tav chuckled, “feel good, my darling?”

“Too good,” he grunted, hand gripping her wrist tight. “It’s been… far too long since I’ve — erm, partaken in pleasure on this plane, so to speak.”

Tav frowned, contemplating that, her eyes drifting to the space where Mystra’s altar had once been then back to him. “That’s okay,” she said immediately. “I don’t care.”

“You might,” he replied, wry smile masking what she knew to be embarrassment creeping up on him, “when the night ends rather, prematurely.”

Tav shrugged. “Then we drink some wine and wait until you’re up to more,” she said casually tugging off the rest of his clothes. “I didn’t wait all this time to have you just once tonight anyway.”

Gale licked his lips, eyebrows twitching up in interest.

She tugged at his wrist, “lay back,” she guided him onto the bed, pushing him to sit with his back against the headboard. “We can go slow.”

Gale got comfortable, hands grabbing at her hips when she settled in his lap. Her fingers danced over the orbs mark, raised like a scar but looking almost inked in like a tattoo. The fervor had stalled just slightly, his cock still hard between them but no longer pulsing as it had in her hand.

“What would our friends say if they knew what you were hiding under those robes,” she mused, arms curling over his broad shoulders.

“I rather think I held my own on our intrepid journeys,” he said, sounding more like himself. “Aside from the creaky knees.”

“That you did,” she agreed. “I would have been lost without you.”

She kissed him, slowly and affectionately, as she lifted herself a bit. Her fingers danced down his body again, taking their time to admire the sturdiness he hid under his wizard robes day to day.

Finger nails scratched through the hair that trailed down his torso, and into the thicker patch between his legs. She gripped him again, and he moaned into her mouth, the kiss matching his needy grasp on the flesh of her hips.

Unable to help herself from teasing, she dragged the head of him through her folds, letting him feel how wet she was for him. His brow furrowed harshly.

As she lined him up and slowly sank down, she was torn between watching every minuscule change in his expression and closing her eyes to relish the perfect fit. He stopped kissing her, the shuddering breath he drew and the way his eyes started to roll back giving her that much more satisfaction.

Her own gasp filled the soundless space between them, walls fluttering at the intrusion. “Gods, you feel so good,” she whined.

Gale was speechless. Voice stolen by deep concentration, and then his eyes opened. For a singular moment Tav felt as if she was the only other person in the world, the pure look of awe and combined sharp focus of his attention made her feel ten feet tall.

How could anyone, goddess or not, take his sincere devotion for granted?

“Do you want me to move?”

“Not yet,” he whispered desperately. “Just — please, let me —“

He pulled her to him, bodies pressing at almost every point. His arms were a tight wrap around her, his cheek pressed against her forehead as she gave him gentle kisses along his neck. It felt not dissonant to their time in the astral, joined in every way, but this felt somehow more intimate. To hold him within her, and still have him hold her safely in his arms — a perfect balance she could hardly fathom.

“Kiss me,” Gale breathed. “Please.”

Tav did as asked, fingers tangled in his hair and very gently rocked her hips. He groaned, grip becoming bruising, pausing the kiss and then coming back to it again. Slowly she started to rock, then raise her hips and roll them forward until she was slowly bouncing, the slap of her skin meeting his filling the room.

Gale broke from the kiss, hands moving to the sides of her face. That same look, as if he had seen something beyond his wildest imaginings; focused, stunned and reverent. She never felt so loved in her life, she was certain.

As if she could will the same feeling into him, she pressed their foreheads together. She moaned, as he hit just right within her. Sensitive, eager and greedy she chased the sensation.

“I love you,” she gasped.

His expression crumpled, and he groaned grabbing her around the waist so she had to stop. She could feel his cock throbbing inside of her. “You are… you — I love you —“ he grunted. “Please, let me — feel you.”

She slowed her movements to a subtle rock, which rubbed against something in her that made her entire body seize up in intense sensation. He murmured affirmations to her, face buried in her hair, his hand grabbing at her ass to pull her back and forth.

“I have to feel it,” he said, need dripping from his tone, “buried in you, I must —“

Her mouth left sloppy kisses wherever she could leave them as she rutted against him. As another sweet peak approached she leaned back, bouncing just slightly to get what she needed. Gale’s eyes flicked down to her chest, to where they were joined, and back to her face. Her body started to pulse, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

It felt so good. The drag of him against her walls, the blunt intrusion as she rolled her hips. Whines fell from her lips, she closed her eyes to focus in on the sensation, head thrown back in ecstasy.

As she peaked her legs shook on either side of him, hips moving out of pure instinct for more as she felt herself tighten around him. Uncontrollable pulses, grabbing and sucking him as far as she could talk him and a gush of wetness that added deliciously lewd sounds.

Gale seemed to stop breathing for a moment, before something in him snapped. He grabbed her hips, and with bent knees and feet planted on the soft sheets began fucking up into her.

More ruthless than she had expected, desperate and selfish and needy. It was nearly enough to get her to the edge again. Grunts from somewhere in the back of his throat joined her shocked cries telling him ‘yes’ over and over again.

He watched as he disappeared inside of her, mouth open as he panted, and then finally he broke.

With a swiftness she didn’t expect he pulled out of her, but his arms came around in a caging embrace so he still rubbed against her wet folds. He whined, as his hips jerked without any sort of pattern, punctuated by the hot splashes of him coming. Sticky, wet and warm.

His body shuddered as it passed, but he did not let go of her as he caught his breath. When she lifted her head to look at him, his head was tilted back and eyes closed as he recovered. She kissed his cheek, and he opened one eye to look at her, a smile blooming on his lips.

“You’ve ruined me,” he muttered.

“And you enjoyed every moment.”

“‘Enjoyed.’” He repeated. “Very light way to put it.”

“Then how would you describe it?”

“Hm,” he breathed. “Having trouble thinking currently. I will get back to you.”

“Now that’s a real accomplishment,” Tav laughed. “I’ve rendered Gale of Waterdeep utterly speechless.”

He laughed, one eye peeking open again before he playfully kissed her on the cheek. As she nestled back into his arms, she knew they would have to break away soon to clean up the mess they had made. But for just a moment she cherished the sound of his heartbeat, calming down and steadying with his breath.

“The first of a thousand nights.” He murmured.

“Hopefully more.”

“I’ll have the rest of your nights, if you’ll allow it.”

“They’re yours.”

Thank you for reading! 💜

#bg3 fanfiction #baldur’s gate 3 fanfiction #gale x tav #gale dekarios x tav #gale of Waterdeep x Tav #bg3 gale fic #gale smut #gale fanfic

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sofia-cloud · 2 years ago

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# THE NEW SINGER — TOM KAULITZ !

– ✎ PAIRING: young tom kaulitz x fem!reader

✎ SUMMARY: you’re the new singer of Tokio Hotel band, they really like you alot for your talent, but one person caught your attention particurally…

✎ CONTENT: checking out, praising, pet names, soft tom, shy reader, teasing.

✎ NOTE: omg i love him so much but im so sad cuz of i cant find any fanfiction abt him so i created one to convince myself not to be sad anymore😭 anyways if there is any mistake pls tell me cause im not english and i hope i wrote anything good (tbh i used translator💀) last thing if u wanna request anything or be added in my taglist just go here!!💙🫧

You have been chosen as the new singer in the Tokio Hotel band. Everyone was very happy with a newcomer, they were curious about how you sang and couldn't wait to hear from you.

However, the day you arrived you first met Bill who immediately recognized you from the physical description you had given him.

“You're yn, right?” Bill said with a smile on his face.

“Yes, it's me” you replied timidly, it was a very famous band and so you were afraid of not being up to it. Bill took you into the room where there were other members of the band.

They all greeted you and you greeted them. To be honest, your favorite was Tom right away, you loved how he played the guitar in concerts, in fact you blushed a lot when he told you "Welcome sweetheart" smiling.

“Thanks..” you said referring to everyone, but you were actually just looking at him.

However, you noticed how he checked you out, especially the skirt, you put it on purpose for him, and you would say it worked.

The first time they heard you sing they were enchanted by your voice, it was angelic, clear and ringing at the right point.

Tom stood looking at you for like 5 full minutes, watching you beat high notes, your eyebrows curling slightly, your eyes closed and the microphone in your hand. You looked like a real angel.

When you finished your performance they applauded you, you had become all red with embarrassment, you didn't think you would receive so many compliments.

“Aspectacular voice, yn,” Bill said,

“Fantastic!” They added Gustav and Georg,

“I didn't think angels sang so good,” Tom told you, approaching you slightly, and winking at you, that damn wink.

“Thank you for everyone,” you replied with a smile.

Months passed and by now they were used to your mind-blowing voice, and yet another thing had also changed ..

You had arrived at the band that Tom was your favorite, but you didn't think you'd develop any feelings for him.

Even once he let you play his guitar while he was behind holding you by the hips.

It was too much for you all this, it was too much for you him, he teased you some times knowing when you would want his attention, when you put on your low-cut shirts and adjusted your bra you noticed how he threw a look, or when he took you by waist to make you move by the side while he said “excuse me sweet girl”.

He knew it, he knew everything. He knew you liked him, that you would want more, that you didn't want him to stop with these games.

But you didn't understand why he didn't come forward, he just teased you.

So one day you decided to have courage and take the step. It consisted of dressing you in a mini skirt that accentuated the end of your thighs, a crop top that inflated your boobs, you put on a seductive scent and you were ready to go out.

You entered the room leaving a trail of perfume not ignored by the others, in fact Bill said “good scent yn” so Tom commented “no longer shy, hm?” He told you looking at you from above as he was sitting.

You had stopped in front of him standing and crossed your arms under your breasts, which accentuated them even more. “Better that way, isn't it?” You teased him.

Tom checked you out, you were so hot, then looked down even more on the skirt, your legs were so perfect, he was about to go crazy.

“This skirt seems dangerous to me,” he said, looking into your eyes.

“And why?” You say confused,

“Your legs are illegal, you look like a fucking model,” he said looking at you intently.

You stood there looking at him, but you didn't want to be shy, you should have teased him, so you decided to sit next to him.

“Don't worry because it's just you who will touch them,” you said that and left him with a lot of doubts.

What did you mean by 'only you'? And what did 'touch them' mean?

He would have liked to ask but you were late for the performance and you went out right away.

During the concert you winked at him and he looked at you surprised, as if to say ' where is the shy yn I knew?' But he immediately returned the smile you gave him.

Suddenly he put one of his hands in your leg dangerously close to the hem of your skirt, you felt your red cheeks, you could feel his breath in your neck.

You had the courage to whisper to him “this is not enough for me, Tom” almost as a plea, he as a decisive answer said “oh yeah?” You were completely melted.

The concert was over, you still had Tom's words in your head, you were in love lost you couldn't think of anything else.

“Mind if i sleep here darling?” A sudden voice interrupted the silence of the room, you turned around and it was him.. yes, him.

“Uh.. Yeah i dont mind" you said embarrassed as you were thinking about him at the time.

You slept together and he let you sleep on his chest.

he smelled really good, like home.

He was your home.

made by @sofia-cloud

OMG I CANT I LOVE HIMM DBEKXHEJ

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #gustav schäfer #bill kaulitz #fluff #x reader #x reader smut #x fem!reader #praise #smut #tiktok #georg listing

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bbyquokka · 1 year ago

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trapped with him

– in which yn looses a bet and ends up becoming felix's pet !!

pairing | lee felix x fem reader

genre | work colleagues, enemies to ??, smut – 18+ is advised!

cw | dom felix ; breast/nipple play ; sexual bets ; oral (f rec) ; clit stimulation ; vaginal fingering ; sexual asphyxiation (choking) ; unprotected sex ; birth control ; clit slapping w cock ; multiple orgasms ; pull out method ; cum on body ; pet/master

words | 5.7k ~ ( 5,794 )

note | this is a lil thank you fic for @oshimee for sending me a second package 🙊 there is still one more ty fic that is in the works so uh, enjoyyy! don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog

m.list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

“i can't believe this is happening.” you let out a disgruntled groan, head in your hands. a displeasured tut is heard from the side of you, causing you to feel even more annoyed at the situation.

you're stuck in work, or rather, you're trapped in work with your worst enemy; lee felix. a sudden snow blizzard occurred which caused a major power outage in the city. the whole city went quiet. trains and buses being canceled due to the fast mountain of snow being created.

unlucky for you, the company doors work electrical meaning you and everyone else have a fob key that allows you in and out and when there is no electricity, there's no escape.

what's even more unlucky, is that you and felix are the last to leave. you both work under the same branch meaning you both work somewhat closely together. today, you ended a little bit later than usual (only because your boss insisted on work being completed)

you and felix were the only two in the office. no words were exchanged between the two of you and if there were, it was very short. once you completed the last set of work, you breathed a sigh of sweet relief, cleaned your desk and grabbed your belongings. as soon as you grabbed your coat, the power went out resulting in your current situation.

“i can't believe i'm stuck in here with you.” felix grunts. he's sat on the floor just opposite you. his hair disheveled from running his hands through it numerous times with his tie and top button of his shirt loosened up.

“i guess that's the only thing we find in common.” you say sarcastically with a sarcastic smile. ever since felix joined the company, you never liked him. you hate how everyone pines over him. you hate how he looks so pretty and perfect everyday. you hate how he can do things better than you. how he can pick things up faster than you. you hate seeing your employees fuss over him. you hate how he always comes into work and is greeted with flowers or chocolates or even a letter of confession.

you hate how he politely turns people down. you just hate everything about him and to be stuck in work with him is a living nightmare for you both.

“why hasn't the back up generator started yet!” you groan, kicking your head back and straightening out your legs in an attempt to feel somewhat comfortable. but that's hard when you spend all day in nothing but work clothing. the appeal of heading home and changing into fuzzy pajamas sounds like bliss round about now.

“this fucking sucks.” felix sighs before standing up and looking out of the window. the snow is still heavily falling with the wind blowing it in various directions. people holding onto their hats, nuzzling their faces into their scarves as the bitter chill hits them.

“how long do you think we will be here?” you mumble. felix tuts.

“the fuck am i suppose to know.”

“alright! jesus, don't get your panties in a twist felix. was just a simple question.”

“has anyone told you how annoying you are?”

“several actually. why? am i annoying you?” you smirk. annoying felix is much more enjoyable than you thought.

“please yn.” he sighs before sitting back down on the floor. “just shut up.”

“have you always been like this?”

“like what?”

“a stuck up annoying brat that has no manners.”

“only when it comes to you.”

“mhm, thought so. because you seem so sweet and innocent with other people. especially when they pine over you.”

“it's called being polite and they don't pine!” felix unbuttons a few more buttons of his shirt before untying his tie and throwing it on the floor beside him. his body is heating up due to how hot it's getting in the workplace. you get a small peak at his honey skin as well as his collarbones.

your heart thumbs a little against your chest. butterflies swim in your stomach and lay dormant in your groin. you frown to yourself.

surely your worst enemy isn't making you feel aroused?!

“oh please! yes felix. right away felix.” you mock before rolling your eyes. felix smirks.

“what can i say. i love it when my pets behave.”

“pets?!” you look at him wide eyed before glaring. “you're insufferable. i hate you.”

felix smirks before leaning back against the wall. several minutes have passed by in silence with the exception of passing traffic and cars honking their horns. the office now feels like a sauna. the insufferable hot air hanging above your head and making it difficult for you to breathe.

your work clothes stick to your body, making you grimace and feel disgusting. felix has pushed his hair back with a headband, his brow coated in a thin layer of sweat as a few more buttons of his shirt have popped open.

you wish you could pop open a few more of your buttons but with the tops of your breasts daring to show, you chose not to. felix sits with his legs parted, one foot on the ground and leg bent which allows him to rest his arm on his knee. his head tilted to the side a little, lips parted and eyes closed.

"so fucking hot.” he mumbles. you give him a small hum of agreement, fanning yourself with your hand.

several more minutes pass with you and felix not talking to one another. this allows you to admire him from afar. you're so used to seeing him prim and proper. hair neat and perfectly styled, not a strand out of place.

seeing him like this however, makes you feel a little hot and bothered. he looks different, feels different. your eyes travel up and down his body, taking in every detail you can see. you can't deny that he's a very handsome man with a unique beauty. his freckles being your favourite thing about him; but you'd never tell him that to his face.

“like what you see?” you look at felix as heat travels to your cheeks. he's smirking. you've been caught. you swallow and avert your gaze which makes felix laugh. “cute.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. from the corner of your eyes, you see felix unbuckling the belt of his work pants. his eyes are on you. he's watching you; teasing you.

you suddenly feel vulnerable but you don't hate it. your body heats up, heart rate speeding up. you look at him, making the mistake of making eye contact with him. he smirks.

he's got you right where he wants you.

“hey yn. why do you hate me so much?” he says with a pout. you frown. you want to look away, avoid the conversation but you can't. your body won't listen. it's like he has a hold on you, gripping onto you tightly whilst watching you slowly melt in the palm of his hands.

“i don't hate you.” you mumble. “i just hate the way you act.”

“how i act?”

“you're so nice to everyone. so caring and attentive. you let people down gently, even when you get showered with cards and confessions. even when you look so uncomfortable, you still remain polite and professional. i hate it. it makes me sick.”

“are you sure you hate me because of the way i act with others or because you hate that other people have my attention?” your eyes widen at the thought.

you open your mouth to speak but felix is quicker than you.

“i see you yn.” he purrs before standing up and walking to you. you swallow thickly as you follow his movements. “i see the way you look at me. i see the dirty looks you give people when they confess. i see the jealousy.” felix bends down between your open legs. he strokes your cheek gently, a soft whimper escapes your lips as your body burns hotter and hotter.

“you want me yn. you desire me.”

“bullshit.” you whisper.

“tell me yn. when was the last time you had sex?”

“t-that has nothing to do with you!” you stutter. felix tuts and strokes your hair.

“but are you not pent up, darling? don't you want to feel the touch of another human? feel yourself get lost in the pleasure. i know you want me and i can provide that for you.”

“what…?” you stare at him in disbelief. he smirks.

“isn't this what you want?” he takes your hand, slowly guiding it down his body to his crotch. your head spins as you feel his cock through the layers of fabric.

he's hard.

“fuck no!” you stammer. you feel heat on your cheeks. you try to pull your hand away but he's strong. you can feel him grow; feel him throb.

“lets make a bet.” you look up at him. a glint of mischief in his eyes as he looks down at you.

“what kind of bet?” you don't know where this is going. judging by the look on his face, it can only end in disaster but oddly enough, you don't hate it? in fact, you're more inclined and drawn into him.

“if i can make you cum with just my mouth, you have to be my pet. obey my every command.”

“and if you lose?”

“you can do whatever you want to me. i'll be at your beck and call. your pet, so to speak.” you chew your lip as you think it over. “or i can leave you alone.”

“excuse me?”

“i know you hate me yn. you told me that before. if you win this bet, i will leave you alone and we shall act as though nothing happened. a simple caught up in the moment kinda thing.”

“i don't hate you, felix.” you whisper.

“you don't?”

“of course not. but why propose this? why me? why not all those people that confessed and bought you stuff?”

“because i’m not interested in them. i’m interested in you! i have been from day one. as soon as i saw you, i was smitten. you're attractive yn and slowly, i became more and more smitten and interested in you.”

felix's cheeks are bright red. he avoids your gaze and rubs the back of his neck shyly. you look at him in shock. lee felix has a school girl crush on you and it makes you feel strangely giddy and excited.

“ok.” you grin. felix looks at you before letting out a sudden groan due to the fact that you squeezed his groin. “lets play. i’ve always wanted a pet.”

felix scoffs before removing your hand from his groin. he leans in close, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear. “just to let you know, i've been told i do great things with my mouth.”

his voice is deep and sensual. purring and rippling along your skin. your core throbs with excitement, heart rate speeding up. you press your lips together in a thin line before scoffing and rolling your eyes.

“prove it, lee felix.” you challenge. he scoffs before pressing his lips against yours unexpectedly. your eyes widen in shock, mind failing to register what's happening. you don't move, not because you don't want to, but because you can't.

you feel felix smirking against your lips. his lips are unusually soft but that's to be expected with the amount of times you see him apply lip balm. felix nibbles on your bottom lip gently which is when your mind finally registers.

you hold onto his broad shoulders. eyes fluttering close as you reciprocate the kiss. you tilt your head to the side to allow more room, the kiss heating up and becoming more needy as time goes on.

it's soft but sensual. it feels natural, like you've both been wanting this for so long. felix's hands cup your cheeks. his palms feel so soft and tender. his skin is hot on your face. he slips his tongue between your lips unexpectedly which causes you to shiver and groan a little.

he tastes the inside of your mouth, tongues battling for dominance. all the while, his hands are gliding down your body and cupping your breasts through your work shirt. there, he squeezes and massages your soft breasts, kneading them as if they're bread dough.

he's not even doing much. just kissing and fondling your breasts but you feel like your body is on fire. you feel electrified. your core throbs with anticipation. the pit of your stomach tightening and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

felix detaches from your lips to kiss your neck. he starts off tenderly before sucking the skin. you tilt your head to the side some more to allow access which allows felix to easily plant kisses on your neck as well as leave a trail of purple bruises behind.

“felix.” you sigh out his name softly. he hums against your neck as a form of acknowledgement before unbuttoning the remainder of the buttons of your work shirt. he's back to squeezing and massaging your breasts through your bra. his lips never leaving your neck.

you're burning. it hurts. you're aching with so much lust and need that it makes you feel uncomfortable. his touch is doing something to you. it feels magical in a way as you can slowly feel yourself melting right into the palm of his hands.

you reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair and tug gently. you whisper his name softly which causes him to shiver.

“my name sounds so sweet yet so dirty on your tongue.” he growls against your neck.

“it does?” felix simply hums in response, too caught up in taking your shirt off and unclasping your bra from the back.

“i’ve heard my name many times but it sounds so sinful when it comes from you.” you blush, shocked and feeling bashful at the sudden confession. felix laughs softly and kisses your cheek gently before taking your shirt and bra off and throwing it beside you.

he swallows thickly. his adams apple bobbing in time with the swallows as he stares at your chest. your soft round breasts and perky nipples that are inviting him to touch, to lick and devour. he removes his own shirt, discarding it with your clothing.

you watch him dive in-between your breasts. your breath hitches in your throat as he caresses them softly in the palm of his hands, slowly getting rougher with each passing second. his mouth latches onto your nipples, sucking and licking them sloppily and getting your skin coated in his saliva.

the hot, humid air paired with his saliva hardens your nipples further. the tip of his tongue flicks on them, fingers rolling the buds. your shakily tug his hair gently, head kicking back and moaning his name softly. he peppers kisses on your skin, traveling up to your neck before kissing the valley between your breasts to then instantly attach himself to a nipple.

your underwear is feeling uncomfortable at this point. you don't know what to say or do. your head is foggy and you're moving on your own. it feels like it's not your body. you never thought you'd take your worst enemy on with a bet let alone this type of bet.

you know you're going to lose. the way his mouth is working on your breasts makes you ache with excitement and is a clear indication that what he said is true; he can do great things with his mouth.

“felix. need you.” you pant. he looks up at you through his lashes, a nipple still in his mouth as he sucks. “please..”

he smirks and lets go of your nipple with a pop. “so shameless.” your cheeks and the back of your neck feel hot. you watch felix strip you of your work clothing, leaving you in just your panties.

he licks his lips hungrily, palming his erection through his trousers. he eyes your body, taking in every detail like a lion eyeing up its prey. you feel small and submissive. your core aching to be touched and throbbing with desire and need. you're sure by now that your panties are soaked with an embarrassing amount of arousal.

you feel his fingers gently brush up your inner thigh, tickling the skin and leaving goosebumps behind. you watch, breath hitching in your throat as he hooks his finger under the waistband and gently tugging.

“cute panties. all for me?” you scoff and roll your eyes.

“not everything i do is for you, felix. i’m not your pet.”

“not yet.”

“what makes you think you will win?” you raise a brow as you watch him lean down and plant kisses on the lower half of your stomach just above the waistband of your panties. “clearly you don't know me that well.”

“clearly you seemed to have forgotten what i said before.” he peers at you through his lashes. “do i have to remind you again, mhm?”

you swallow and scoff, determined to keep up this tough facade, but you can feel it slowly crumbling. with each touch, each kiss and each word, your resolve is slowly crumbling away resulting in you becoming nothing but a hot mess in the palm of his hands, ready and waiting.

“i can do great things with my mouth, yn.” he smirks as he repeats himself once again. your bottom lip becomes caught between your teeth as you watch felix grab the waistband of your panties with his teeth and slowly pull them down.

he pulls them down your legs, unhooking one side and letting them rest on one ankle. you part your legs slowly for him to which he raises his brow at.

“already behaving like a pet i see. i didn't even have to give you a command and you're already spreading your legs for me.”

“stop.. it's embarrassing.” you mumble shyly.

“no.” he mumbles back before resting on his stomach between your legs. he starts by planting soft kisses on your inner thigh, leaving behind bruises. “it’s hot.”

you whimper as you watch him. his lips are so soft against your scorching hot skin. every kiss and suck he does, leaves you wanting more. your skin burns and reacts accordingly to his touch. his hair tickles your thigh, his nimble fingers caressing and squeezing the other.

he reaches your core, looking at you as a way of saying “can i?” you simply nod and watch him lick his lips before eyeing your core.

your skin is glistening with arousal. your clit swollen and folds slightly puffy. your core noticeably throbs. felix licks two fingers before rubbing them between your folds slowly. you press your lips together in a thin line as your slick coats his fingers up nicely. he uses your arousal to gently tap on your sensitive clit.

it's just a few gentle taps but it's enough to make your thighs shake a little and electric like pleasure to shoot up your spine. felix gives a low chuckle, amused by your reaction. he applies a bit more pressure to the taps, adding in a few small and slow circles.

“you’re cheating!” you moan out softly. felix hums and tilts his head to the side in a questioning manner.

“am i?”

“you said mouth.. this isn't your mouth. you didn't mention anything about fingers.”

“oh? did i not?” felix blinks a few times before shrugging. “oh well.” his fingers pick up in pace, rubbing quick circles on your swollen bud of nerves. your back arches slightly, words stuck in your throat as you watch him lean down and bury his face between your legs.

your thighs instantly shake and jerk. the feeling of his wet tongue pressing flat against your clit to replace his fingers sends a whole new feeling up and down your spine. his eyes flutter shut as he teases and sucks on your clit. the tip of his tongue feeling pointy as he flicks it along the bud.

you bite your lip hard, refusing to let out any sounds. but it builds and builds in the back of your throat. you feel yourself slowly melt and succumb to him and you're in awe of it. all he is doing is licking your clit like a cat licking milk but it feels amazing. you can't describe it but the way your body is feeling and responding to felix is embarrassing.

the built up moan is let free as you feel two of his fingers circle and tease your sopping hole. your arousal gathers on his fingers as he licks and sucks on your clit like a starved man. he teases your entrance before removing his fingers and moving his head lower down.

you watch him with beady eyes. his hands plant on your inner thighs, keeping them stretched wide apart as he licks a long, wet strip from your entrance to clit. your arousal gathers on his tongue, heightening his senses and satisfying his taste buds. he doesn't want to admit it but he can't deny that he loves the way you taste. his body is reacting on its own, his own mind slowly fogging over and becoming hazy.

he's teetering on the edge of becoming feral and it's only a matter of time.

he didn't think it was possible. felix has tasted many before and no one has made me respond, think or feel the way you do. is it because of the weird ‘i hate you’ type relationship that's making it even more exciting for him.

watching someone hold themselves proudly and sneer at everyone with jealousy that pines of him, slowly crumble and succumb to him in a matter of seconds. he loves it more than he likes to admit.

“f-felix..” his ears perk up as he looks at you. he swallows thickly at the sight of your glowing skin and your flushed cheeks. he groans deeply, a groan that ripples through your body and causes you to throb.

“fuck.” he mumbles repeatedly to himself. his tongue laps at your entrance, lapping up any arousal that spills. it coats his tongue and fills him with greed. the more he tastes, the more he wants.

his cock throbs and twitches in his trousers. he wants relief – sweet sweet relief but he has to wait until the bet is fulfilled.

his tongue dives in and out of your pussy. his fingers digging into the skin of your thighs, leaving bruises. you reach down to tangle your hand into his hair. you tug at the strands, removing the headband from before.

you moan his name like a symphony. you dont hide how much you want and need him, at this point it's pointless. the air around you both is so thick with lust and want, that it's suffocating and clear sign of the desire you both share for one another.

one hand on your thigh disappears and you feel fingers around your entrance again. felix is back on your clit, his face buried deep between your legs. he sucks, licks and spits on your cunt. his saliva and your arousal coating his chin and lips nicely.

as he caresses and plays with your clit, he slowly pushes one finger inside your tight entrance. you gasp at first, toes curling a little at the feeling of something foreign entering you; but you soon relax once his finger slowly pushes in and pulls out.

“relax.” he purrs. you do as instructed, allowing yourself to be completely consumed in the feeling. this makes it a tad bit easier for felix to finger you, your entrance slowly loosening and becoming wetter for him. “there we go. nice to know my pet can behave.”

“i’m not your p-pet.” you stutter.

“not yet.” he smirks between gently nibbling on your well stimulated clit. he slowly and gently inserts a second finger, hooking them against your walls and moving them slowly.

the whole stimulation is enough to make you cum. he's not moving at a pace you'd enjoy but it's making you feel foggy, like he has a spell on you.

you watch felix close his eyes and turn his attention on pleasuring you. his fingers pick up the pace and your body tingles with pleasure. your stomach dips and your hands are quick to pull his hair harshly. thighs shake, body feeling electrified and skin feeling like hot molten lava. your orgasm is fast approaching.

it burns in the pit of your stomach. you feel dizzy with all the intense lust. you tighten around felix's fingers as well as throb. your cunt sounds wet and sloppy and is mixed in with the sounds of the many moans and groans from you and felix.

felix smirks against your cunt. hot breathy moans fan against your skin as he drives his fingers in and out of you fast, driving you closer and closer to your orgasm.

at first, you decided to act tough and see how long you could last. you didn't want to crumble and give felix the satisfaction of knowing he'd win. however, all rationality flew out of the window the moment you felt his mouth on you.

“felix. i-i can't!” you pant, desperately. he knows by the way you have a vice grip around his fingers. how your hips are bucking against his face and your walls fluttering around his fingers.

felix just gives a simple and satisfying hum. he watches your eyes flutter shut. he feels his hair being tugged harshly at the roots. in one long breathy moan, your orgasm hits you.

you moan, shake and whimper. felix fingers you and sucks your clit throughout the process, helping to drive your orgasm out a little more. your walls flutter and pulse around his fingers as your thighs shake and threaten to close around his head. his digits get soaked in your arousal and you gently push him away by placing your hand on his forehead due to the sensitivity of your clit.

felix pulls away slowly with a smug look on his face. he kneels between your legs as he makes eye contact with you and sucks on his two fingers. he moans at the taste of your arousal and you feel your body burning up at the embarrassing, yet sexy, gesture.

“seems like i've won.” you roll your eyes.

“whatever.” you mumble. felix dislikes your tone and he grabs your face roughly and growls.

“that’s no way to speak to your master, pet.” you struggle to look away. your cheeks being smushed together for a second before he lets go and travels his hand down to your neck.

your breath hitches in your throat as he squeezes the sides slowly before tightening his grip slowly. your eyelids flutter, oxygen slowly depleting and making you feel dizzy and hazy.

with his free hand, he pulls down his trousers and underwear. he wraps his hand around his hot and throbbing cock and pumps himself a few times, letting out a few grunts.

he lets go of your neck and you feel the oxygen returning back to your lungs. felix swallows a little, his hand pumping him at an uncontrollable fast pace.

“fuck..” his head dips and he swallows as he looks at your glistening cunt. he wants to fuck you so badly, the want and need making him feral. he squeezes your thigh as well as squeezing his cock at the base. his skin is hot against the palm of his hand, tip wet and leaking pre-cum. he throbs several times in his hand and his hips buck.

maybe it's the sight in front of you that drives you to do it but you lean back a little, legs spread wide as you use two fingers to part your labia. felix's eyes widen as he watches your entrance pulsate and throb; it looks so fucking welcoming.

“it’s ok.” you purr. “you can use me. i am your pet after all.”

“i don't… i don't have condoms.” he stutters.

“i'm on birth control. it's ok.” felix's rationality and common sense snaps. he grabs the base of his dick and gives your swollen and sensitive clit a few slaps with his length. your body jolts with each slap before feeling him rub his length up and down between your puffy folds.

felix hisses as his tip enters you, his thickness stretching you which causes you to hiss at the burn. he pushes half his length in slowly before stopping to give you time to adjust.

as he waits, he shakes. the tightness of your cunt grips around him makes it hard for him to maintain his composure (not like he had any left.) your walls feel gummy and hot with added wetness that coats and hugs his penis so deliciously.

you look up at him with doe eyes and nod. “please move.” you stutter.

felix also nods before slowly moving his hips. his shaft strokes your walls slowly and gently. your brows scrunch up a little due to you not being completely used to the stretch. felix reaches down and toys with your clit with the pad of his thumb slowly. he rubs slow circles on the swollen bud and the added stimulation helps as the pain subsides and pleasure takes over your body.

“f-fuck!” you moan out. you rest on your back, head tilted to the side. felix picks up the speed slowly, his head kicking back as deep and long moans erupt from the back of his throat. his mind slowly turns foggy, his body tingling with pleasure.

you feel so warm and snug around his cock. he dares push all his length in, bottoming out in you. your eyes widen a little but are quick to flutter close. felix is thrusting roughly and fast. the sounds of skin on skin and your arousal mixing together with the moans and groans.

the background becomes a distance and fuzzy sound. the sound of cars passing by and pedestrians humming in your ears. you're hyper aware of your body and how good you feel alongside felix's touch. his hands caressing your hips and thighs. fingers on your clit to toy with.

“god i never knew you could feel this good around me.” he groans. you simply hum, your words drying up in the back of your throat.

felix holds onto your waist tightly to steady your body as he thrusts harder. your breast bounce with each thrust. your body screaming at you from pleasure.

“ah ah! fuck, felix!” you babble. felix grins and leans over you, his forearms planting firmly by the side of your head.

“are you enjoying yourself, pet?” you look up at him and nod.

“yes. you feel good. mhm, so good. more, want more. i want to be your pet forever.” you shamelessly admit. felix swallows thickly before letting out a shaky and hot breath. he leans down and buries his face into the crook of your sweaty neck.

“be careful yn. your words are dangerous to me right now.”

you pant heavily and reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair. your walls flutter around felix's length as his cock twitches a few times in you. his movements are sloppy and slow. the pit of his stomach tightening with each thrust.

felix feels so deep inside of you that he is stroking untouched territory. it's driving you insane and with your earlier orgasm, you're sensitive and your second orgasm is quickly approaching.

you tighten around felix, your stomach dipping and thighs shaking. you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut tightly. felix kneels back up, hands back on your hips as he resumes the fast and hard thrusts to help drive both of you closer to orgasm.

“cum!’ you choke out. your walls flutter around felix, thighs shaking as you moan loudly. it hits you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs and for you to hear a faint buzz in your ears. felix rubs your clit through your orgasm to help you, your arousal soaking the skin of his shaft.

you push away his hand gently as you come down. your body feels heavy, exhausted and sweaty. you lean up and rest your hands behind you to support your weight as you watch felix chase his orgasm.

his brows scrunch together. sweat drips down his temples as his hair sticks to his forehead and back of his neck. his grip on you is tight, leaving bruises behind. he opens his eyes slowly and groans, quickly pulling out and ejaculating on your breasts and stomach.

his hips bucks with each shot, hand around his penis as he pumps himself. his head flops to the side as he pants and moans. once calm, he opens his eyes and bites his lip.

“before you say anything, yes i know you said you're on birth control, but still. the appeal of seeing my pet cover in my cum is just hotter than i imagined.”

you look to the side to avoid his gaze as you slowly feel embarrassed and shy. right now, you want to go home, take a shower and go to bed.

as if on qué, the lights in the office light up and the sound of the air conditioning buzzing away is a relief. you and felix look at each other triumphantly.

you can finally go home!

“hey, uhm–” you look up at felix as he fixes himself. he looks at you, his cheeks red and stroking the back of his neck.

“yes?”

“uhm.. do you perhaps want to come back to my place?” you raise your brow.

“why? want to go for round two?” you smirk as you watch his cheeks go even redder.

“n-no! i mean, well, maybe but that's not why i suggested it. you're probably sore and well, i did y’know–” he gestures at your breasts and stomach “i do feel a little responsible for you, so please come back to mine. you can use my shower and wash up. i can cook up something to eat and you can borrow some of my clothing for the night.”

“and where will i sleep?”

“in my bed. i’ll sleep on the sofa.” your eyes widen a little. maybe you've had felix all wrong this whole time. something seems different about him right now, whether that be the adrenaline and hormones slowly calming down but he seems so gentleman-like.

“sure.” you shrug. “might as well take you up on that offer.” felix grins before helping you dress and stand back on your feet.

“please take good care of me, felix.”

“don’t worry yn. i always take good care of my pets.”

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purpleph4se · 2 years ago

Text

shades of cool

sigma | siebren de kuiper x reader

warnings | smut, fem/afab! reader, soft dom! sigma, oral (fem), creampie, praise kink, very very self indulgent sorry

a/n | i fucking hate tumblr why did i struggle so much to make this fucking post. this is a cry for help. tumblr fix your fucking app. but um yeah this. i go from nothing for months to smut of an old man i know. i’ve been fixated on ow for months and um i really really like sigma oops. so my brilliant idea was to sexualize him like it’s my full time job. to anyone reads this (im expecting not that many ppl) i hope u enjoy it <3 crossposted on my ao3

translations | mooi - beautiful, heerlijk - gorgeous, sterrenlicht - starlight, schatje - sweetheart , mijn liefje - my love, je bent te goed voor mij, mijn lieve meid - you’re too good for me sweet girl

—

“can i kiss you?”

you asked, and he tilted his head as if he believed that he had misheard you. no, you’re leaning in now, and oh, your skin is so soft against his own, gentle and yet somehow firm. you…actually wanted him. “siebren?” you murmured against his slightly parted mouth, snapping him out of his daze.

“yes,” he responded breathlessly.

you slowly touched your lips to his, gingerly and invitingly, daring him to deepen the kiss himself. and when he did, you couldn’t help but sigh with relief.

he’s going slow, but with such careful precision that the movement of his lips has you under some kind of spell. the warmth and wetness of his tongue flicks delicately across your lip. you didn’t expect him to be so…romantic. had he been waiting for this moment?

his hand comes to the side of your neck, “you are so, so beautiful…” again, he’s kissing you, speaking heated affirmations into your lips, “...so perfect…” those same, unbearably tender kisses begin to travel, moving to your cheek, peppering over towards your neck just below your ear.

his hand falls lower, allowing the roughness of his palm to slide down your arm, then to your waist, stopping to press his thumb into the smooth skin at the hem of your dress. the squeeze of it causes the most abrupt squeak to peep out of you, and in response, siebren chuckles into your neck. he kisses you there again and again, his body pressing you harder into the counter behind you as he moves in as close as he can possibly be.

he kisses you while his warm, heavy hands continue to wander. they seem to travel aimlessly, crisscrossing your back and inching higher, climbing your sides until his blunt nails ghost over your ribcage, dragging along your dress.

goosebumps start to peak there, following his fingertips when they sink into your stomach, cupping just below your tits. you breathe his name cautiously, as if saying it too loud might wake you from this daydream. two calloused thumbs swipe along the curve of your breasts, just beneath the swell of them, and meet at your sternum, sinking into the flesh of it when he closes his mouth on yours again.

you melt like putty in siebren’s weathered hands, easing further into his touch and allowing him to turn you around with the soft utterance of your name. his mouth draws nearer to yours, strung together with sweet saliva that clings to your tongues.

suddenly, he’s letting go, bringing that same hand back to your face. siebren pulls you into another, deep kiss. with every timid movement of your own, his lips press into yours harder. you can hear the heaviness of his breaths as, in between kisses, he’s mumbling inaudible words “mooi” and “heerlijk” and “sterrenlicht" none of it registering.

he mumbles something against your lips with a smile as his hands drift away from your face, skirting over the thin fabric of your sundress and squeezing just beneath the curve of your ass, only to scoop you up and lift you onto the countertop with a grunt, leaving your mouth to its own devices.

your thighs, warm and trembling, splaying across the cool granite surface and instinctively parting to accommodate his size as he guides your legs into place. his fingertips hook into the soft spot behind your knees, bringing them to settle on either side of his waist as you wrap your legs around him.

arching further into him while your vision begins to blur, you whimper, feeling lightheaded as your body chases his form, squirming and wedged between the weight of his hips and the countertop.

you allow your head to tip back, baring your throat to him as you trail your fingers up the column of his neck. your nails card through the surprisingly soft hair that falls around the nape of his neck, lightly scratching his scalp, following him as he dips to mouth at your collarbone.

somewhere in the suffocating space between you, siebren’s hands creep beneath your dress, bunching the material at the top of your hips while deft fingers creep into the space between your thighs.

his breath kisses the crook of your neck, warm and sticky, while a heavy, husky question rolls off of his tongue, tumbling onto the salty skin below his mouth.

“do you want me to stop?”

an unintelligible whimper claws its way out of your throat, embarrassingly pitiful.

you can’t let him go.

rough fingertips trace feather-light circles onto smooth flesh, pinching at the soft fat that sits at the tops of your thighs with a mellow hum and a quiet, disapproving tsk-tsk.

“say it for me.”

warm breath ghosts over your skin, tickling your neck while siebren’s lips graze the tender skin that lies just beneath your earlobe. his teeth scrape that sensitive spot deliberately as his hands climb higher, stretching until his thumbs meet, hovering mere centimeters away from the heat between your legs.

“i need to hear you, schatje...”

you stammer indistinctly, pawing at the back of his neck while your eyes train towards the ceiling. you felt dizzy.

siebren’s teeth scrape your skin, they sink into the curve of your throat. broad, practiced thumbs cross one another and press into your panties, stroking down the cloaked hood of your clit, rolling over the bud through thin, sticky cotton. your body jumps, chasing that feeling, and goosebumps rise on your skin as he begins to pull away.

“wait! i-i want it,” you plead, forcing yourself into his hands with a strained whine. “please, d-don’t stop!”

his lips curl against your neck, in a sly, subtle grin over the impression he has made, slick with his spit and marred by the circle of shallow, tooth-shaped indentations in your skin.

“you’re so precious when you beg.”

lodged between your thighs while he gently urges you to lift your sundress higher, bunching it up around your hips “we certainly don’t want to ruin such a pretty thing, do we?”

siebren crouches in front of the counter, thumbing at your swollen clit intently, inching his way down your body and littering insistent kisses there in his wake. he makes his way towards the floor, stooping until he is eye-level with your sheer, soaked panties, cupped so nicely in his large hands.

he’s barely touched you and you’re already seeing stars, with your cheeks flaming, you clutch at the cold, stony countertop, kneading your lower lip between your teeth while your nails clatter towards the edge, grasping for some sort of stability as your body chases him.

broad, heavy shoulders rise and fall, pitching with each reverent breath stolen between your legs, and siebren takes two fingers to your puffy mound, watching the flimsy cotton barrier cave under each swipe of his fingertips, smearing warmth along the damp material that clings to your folds.

his tongue flickers past his teeth, flitting over his parted lips as he stares, entranced by the responsive throb of your cunt when he swipes at the wetness, visible through your sheer panties.

“fascinating.”

heat emanates from his body, pouring off of his face and his palms, and he noses closer, mere inches away from the wet, sticky cotton.

“let’s take these off,” he huffs against damp, warm skin, breathing in the scent of your arousal shamelessly. “they’d just get in the way.” he let out a small chuckle. dork.

you brace yourself against the cabinet behind your back gently, lifting yourself while his fingers curl into the flimsy panties. siebren peels them off, agonizingly slow, dragging the skimpy, sodden article down your thighs and off of your feet, pausing to press gentle kisses along your damp skin. he takes his time, memorizing the shape of your body and savoring your scent before the warmth of his breath ghosts your pussy again.

siebren takes his time to savor the experience, trailing a lone fingertip through the slick mess, collecting it on the pads of his fingers and pulling away. one finger swipes up against you, nudging it aside and marveling at the easy gush of your cunt when he runs a cruel thumb along your clit.

“so sensitive.”

he hushes the whine that reverberates in your lungs. god he could smell your arousal. that was nearly enough to make him cum all over himself like he was an inexperienced young man again. he shifted–painfully hard between his legs.

“tell me...tell me how it feels.”

the thought of him watching your face, watching you unravel so easily under is a little more than humiliating. your grip on the counter speaks for you, straining knuckles beginning to ache while you hold onto the edge. your head feels full of cotton, you can’t even form a sentence.

all you can do is return his unwavering gaze with your mouth ajar, lip quivering, watching helplessly as he sinks a rough finger into your cunt, drenching it to the hilt in seconds. your face burns at the sight, having watched your pussy swallow a thick digit so quickly.

siebren pushes you further, swiping away at your clit, edging a second finger in beside the first. you let out a pathetic whimper. and cave, sighing, “s’ good—feels so good mmh-!” and then, his hands pull away and land on your thighs, kneading soft flesh as he drags you towards the edge of the counter, closer and closer, until his face is sandwiched between your legs.

in a moment of sheer weakness, you make the mistake of looking down, sealing your own fate in a single glance.

you meet his gorgeous periwinkle eyes while he pushes your thighs apart before hoisting them over his head, forcing you to accommodate broad shoulders as they settle into the soft curve of your calves.

as siebren bows his head, he plants a tender kiss on top of the soft mound between his hands, and breathes your name like a prayer.

his breath comes out in measured puffs, sucked in and fleshed out in utter restraint and a hot, heavy tongue trails up your cunt, pressing flat against your clit and dragging higher until its wet, rounded tip nudges the sweet little bundle of nerves between your legs.

your hands tangling into his silver hair. your nails track over his scalp, pulling him in and encouraging him while you writhe, hips hoisting off of the counter to chase his mouth as he sucks at your cunt. his name is the only word on your lips.

you peek down again, watching siebrens elegant nose bump against your clit, the sight was overwhelming. siebren makes a deep rumble of a noise. with his free hand he presses two digits up to your slick, awaiting entrance. You feel the roll of soft vibrations coursing through your core as he moans again.

siebren sucks at your pussy, lapping at the juices dripping down his chin, slick with his own drool as the tip of his tongue delves into soft, spongy flesh.

he’s hooked on the taste of your skin, drunk on it, eyes glazed over and lashes feathering his view as he peers up at you between your thighs. the noises he makes are downright obscene, contributing to the flare of heat in your cheeks. his fingers scissor and curl along your walls, dragging against the spot that leaves your cunt drooling into his hand.

“siebren,” you gasp, “i w-want—want you inside me…”

he hums inquisitively. you’re slurring a little, the words coming out jumbled, “please—fuck me-“

his tongue slips between his fingers, spreading the sticky walls of your cunt open, breathing, “such language…” it takes a single whine, a pathetic “please” to hoist him off his knees, stumbling up to cup your jaw in one hand, his mouth pressed to your throat, teeth grazing your ear while his other hand plays with your clit, thumbing it while steady fingers plunge deeper into your cunt.

“you want me to fuck your sweet little cunt, don’t you?”

his utterly filthy words caused a whimper bubble up from your throat. your hands begin to tremble once more, clutching to his shirt’s collar, eagerly nodding into the crook of his neck.

“i’ll take care of you, mijn liefje.”

the fingers filling you up slip out, soaked and slick. the cool and empty feeling aches, but the sound of a zipper and the rustling of fabric makes your head rush, dizzy with anticipation. you don’t dare to look, holding your breath as the swollen, silky head grazes your entrance. he guides it over your clit, rutting into the mess the two of you made gently, collecting spit and slick and precum on the tip of his cock.

it feels big, warm and round and thicker than his fingers - you don’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified, but you drag him in all the same, urging him on by winding your legs around his waist and pulling his hips closer. “you’re sure,” he breathes, “sure you want this?”

one nod, and he’s gone, angling the head of his cock against your drooling cunt, nudging at puffy lips and spreading them apart.

your fingers curl at his collar, knuckles locking while you stifle a squeal, feeling him sink into you. “i’m so sorry, i know, i know—“ his voice sounds strained, “you’re just so—tight... ”

siebren lets you set the pace, easing up and telling you to take it slow. you know he’s watching his cock disappear in to your cunt. you let go of his collar, seizing his face and hauling his mouth towards yours. you kiss him, deeply and desperately for a sweet distraction, lips colliding and stealing you away from the dull pain swelling in the pit of your stomach as his cock forces its way into your gummy, giving walls.

siebren slides in painstakingly slow, catching your lower lip between his teeth and tugging it gently as his cockhead breaches another inch of your cunt, wracking your body with a feeble sob.

“that’s it…”

a soft groan rolls off of his tongue, dripping onto yours as he bottoms out, extending his finger to flick at your clit, swollen and soaked with saliva.

“good girl,” he breathes, mouth leaving yours, entwined by the threads of drool between your lips. “you take me so well, liefje.”

his hands slip down your body, fingers grazing sensitive skin and curling around your thighs, lifting them higher on his waist and cooing out a soft reminder, “breathe.”

a beat passes, then two; he whispers your name, and his hands climb towards your waist, fingertips dancing over your ribs idly as he peers down at the place where the two of you meet, watching your cunt swallow the hilt of his cock and push back on it.

you focus on the rise and fall of your chest for a moment, your eyes slip shut, allowing your body to adjust to this strange new fullness. siebren dips his head into the crook of your neck, cooing praises and kissing them into your skin, thumbing circles into your skin.

your voice trembles, and your fists curl as you mewl, “hah—p-please, move…” a subtle smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, grazing your clavicle, and he nods, rocking his hips shallowly. his strokes are slow and measured, meticulously matching your breaths, setting a rhythm. then, he breaks it. your voice shatters his name as he bottoms out in a single, brutal thrust that makes you see stars. then, quickly, another. and another. soon, he falls into a gradual flow.

each rock of his hips, every pump of his cock that meets with your core sends pathetic noises flowing from your lips. even he, despite his desperate attempts to keep his composure, can’t help the broken, almost whiny, sounds that escape from his throat.

his head darts down, capturing you a sloppy kiss. and you return every single one, lapping at his tongue with your own, drinking him in. you’re overwhelmed, crying tears of pleasure from the hard, now quickening thrusts of his length. your walls clench around him tighter, engulfing him even deeper. he’s whimpering, a shy, needy little noise. his fingers reach to toy at your clit, playing generously with the bud. you cry out, mouth falling open in an unintelligible sob.

your nails dig into his neck, no doubt leaving noticeable marks. “so good, je bent te goed voor mij, mijn lieve meid” you're too lost in the to even try to understand. your squeals had now morphed fully into wanton moans and little pathetic cries, hitching and catching in rhythm to his pace. likewise siebrens grunts and groans are ripped from his chest, bubbling up only to escape when he glanced down at his cock pumping hard into your opening.

your toes curl, and you feel like you’re choking on air, smothered by his hands. you drown in him, in his cologne, his sweat, and his thunderous voice.

“such a-ah—sweet girl,” he murmurs, sinking into your tight little hole and drinking in your pathetic, disheveled state with a careful glance. “such a good girl for me…” your cunt drools, stretching and squeezing, groping his cock greedily and gushing when he splits you open again and again.

“s-siebren ! mmn-m-! please m-m’gonna cum,” your orgasm coils deep in your tummy, tight and white-hot, you sob into his neck, eyes glazing over as siebren’s hips collide with yours. you wail his name as he slams into the spot inside of you that sends you spiraling into nothingness and everything at once.

“cum for me, sweet girl—” and you do, clenching around his cock and squeezing, back arching and hips rolling clumsily as you shove him impossibly deeper, trapping him with your calves and pulling him close.

drunk on his cock, in the haze of your orgasm, you manage to beg, “siebren-! pl-please cum inside me!”

siebren groans in response. his thrusts were beginning to stagger now, your wet warmth was too much, and he soon picked up the pace to a bruising speed. your moans became breathless, his thrusts almost knocking the very air out of your lungs from sheer need. tears stream down your cheeks with every overwhelming sensation, spikes of pleasure leaving you intoxicated.

giving a few hash, stuttering pumps to your aching core, siebren came with a broken moan into your exposed neck. bottoming out as his pulsating length spasmed and throbbed. bucking his hips desperately to coax out every drop of his seed—the amount causing sticky strings of cum to leak out of your still throbbing pussy. he clings to you, huffing, and presses an appreciative, wet kiss to the crook of your neck.

he’s thanking you. your limp, tuckered-out arms wind around his neck lazily, pulling his face into your chest and tangling your fingers into silky salt-and-pepper hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. you thank him quietly in return.

#siebren de kuiper x reader #sigma x reader #overwatch x reader #overwatch smut #overwatch imagine #siebren de kuiper #my writing

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adarkrainbow · 1 year ago

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BD reviews: The good, the okay and the bad

Today's review - L'origine des contes, by Philippe Bonifay

France has a deep and intimate history with fairytales. My blog mostly focuses on literature, and I already did a few jumps in the domain of cinema - but this French presence of fairytales also expands into the most French of all media... THE BD! La BD! Aka, "bande-dessinée". Yes, it is technically just the French translation of the English term "comic book" - but I do like to keep the original appelation BD because the European BD (especially the Franco-Belgian BD) and the American comic books, while similar by many ways, are also very different by many other aspects - different sale techniques, different formats, different materials, very different histories and rules...

So, I wanted to do a quick dive into a handful of fairytale-related BD (not all because there's a HUGE amount of fairytales BD). I'll cover here four in a row, more or less extensively, and I want to begin with a series I deem to be a bad one. "A l'origine des contes". "At the origin of fairytales". A series written by Philippe Bonifay and released in three volumes in 2013 - each volume with a different artist and focusing on a different fairytale (Pinocchio by Thibaud de Rochebrune ; Snow White by Fabrice Meddour ; and Bluebeard by Stephane Duval)

I have only read two of the volumes - not the Pinocchio one. Everybody keeps saying the Pinocchio tome ("tome" sounds in English like "tome of eldritch lore" or a "grimoire" but in French what English folks call "comic book volume", we call "un tome de bande-dessinée" so I'll use tome for simplification) is the best in terms of art and story, but the other two ones left me such a sour taste I don't know if I will even take a look at it or not.

This series offers and proposes a very simple concept. "What if there was an actual, historical, realistic origin to the fairytales we know today? What if there was a REAL, and darker, story behind these childhood classics?". Each volume has as a narrative frame a fictional version of the ones who wrote the fairytales (Perrault for Bluebeard, the Grimm brothers for Snow White etc...), and proceeds to present us a dark, harsh story between the tragedy and the horror tale, set in a defined country at a defined time period, and that supposedly "inspired" the fairytales. Of course, this is all fictional pretense, as the author clearly wasn't interested in getting the actual folkloric or historical roots of the fairytales, and merely wanted to invent a darker, realistic alternative to the classics and present them through his BD.

In itself, it isn't a bad thing - as in, the series clearly does not pretend to be actual historical document, it is very clearly all fictional, and we had a lot of "realistic and darker, time-period" retelling of fairytales. In concept it basically evoked to me Maguire's "Mirror, Mirror" (I have not read Maguire's book, but based on everything I heard about it, the rough concept seemed to be the same). "A l'origine des contes" keeps popping up when you go searching for "adult BD about fairytales" - and the cover and general presentation already prepares you for a violent, mature and dark story. Just the cover of the Snow-White one depicts an axe-wielding woman with bloody snow surrounding her, and her breasts half-out of her corset. This establishes the "adult" trend. But what I was NOT expecting was for this to be one of those "bad" adult series.

There was a wave of "edgy" adult BDs at the turn of the century, whose entire topic was to present some sort of serious, dark story, preferably of historical inspiration, while adding in it a lot of shocking gore and a lot of nude women and a lot of sex scenes, at the detriment of the actual historic elements. A perfect example of this would be Jodorowsky's "Borgia" BD, a 2000s series centered around the life of the Borgia family - or rather based on their dark legend as a clan of corrupted, murderous, incestuous, proto-mafioso who poisoned everybody, defiled religion and took control of Rome... And it decided to amplify the dark legend even more. Deaths and mutilations and incestuous sex and gratuitous sexual perversity and plague and religious fanaticism all thrown together with as a pseudo-plot the historical political and religious manipulations of Rodrigo Borgia, and the dysfunctions of his broken family. Compared to this, "Game of Thrones" looks tame.

However, despite "Borgia" being basically a "historical snuff movie", it had something that "A l'origine des contes" does not have. It is FUN. As in, weird, perverse, classic slasher-fun. It does everything in such extremes and with such outlandish extent and it amplifies everything so much it becomes almost a gory parody and you just laugh at it all - and while it is clearly all hyper-fictional, it does take inspiration from the actual rumors, legends and claims surrounding the Borgias, it is merely a twisted mirror of their ACTUAL dark myth. But "A l'origine des contes"? Despite being much tamer in terms of sex and gore than "Borgia", and thus being more palatable, it lacks any kind of fun or interest - precisely because it keeps itself "contained" and "grounded", the bad elements pop out more (like the gratuity of nudity, or the lack of need for X violent scene to happen), and by literaly removing all the magic of the fairytales but replacing it with nothing, it produces a dreary and frankly boring thing... But worse crime of all: there's almost no real basis or interesting link or true twisting mirror of the original fairytales!

To give you an example of what I mean by that, I'll talk of the first volume I read: Bluebeard.

The so-called "real" story of Bluebeard is that there were in the Middle-Ages (well it's supposed to be the Middle-Ages but a recurring theme in this series is that clearly no historical research was made and the artist and author just threw whatever they wanted in there) beautiful twins - but one, after surviving the plague, became ugly. They grew up wanting to become great artists - but the ugly and deformed brother ended up drowning in his bitterness at being the "ugly, hidden one" while his lovely brother got all the praise and love. And the deformed twin growing madder and madder, he starts becoming murderous... You start thinking "Oh, I see, so this is what was hidden in that forbidden room, the murderous twin! And the one who killed wives wasn't Bluebeard by his evil double!". The latter is true: here, all of Bluebeard's wives were killed by his envious and mad twin. The first sentence howeve turns out massively wrong because of the final wife, of the blood-stained key, of Bluebeard's house/castle, we have no trace! In fact, the only two elements Bonifay kept from the original story were "A) A guy name Bluebeard B) has lots of wives that end up killed". And that's literaly it - nothing else from the original fairytale is taken, and in fact, if it wasn't for the iconic name of Bluebeard, you wouldn't even KNOW this was supposed to be a Bluebeard adaptation.

Many people pointed out that Bonifay clearly had here an inspiration and influence from Gothic tales or the fantastique genre - he pushed the original story of Perrault towards the grounds of "Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde", and "The Portrait of Dorian Gray"... But he pushed so far it basically ends up being its own story with barely any relationship to the original one. In fact, it feels VERY strongly as if Bonifay had an idea for a different BD, couldn't get published, and recycled it for his Fairytale series. This is just about a guy trying to escape his murderous shadow-twin, who keeps killing all of his wives, no matter how far he goes - because, and I rolled my eyes there and skipped the whole arc because come on ; because he even goes to THE DEEPEST PARTS OF AFRICA and marries there a girl from some random tribe, and I just skipped it all ahead... Oh yes the whole "artist" plot is also involved here, because the murdered wives are used by the mad twin brother for some sort of grandiose sculpture the brothers had planned since teenagehood. And if you want to know the reason why Bluebeard is called Bluebeard, it could have been interesting but it is delivered in such a silly way: the good-looking twin got a knife-wound on his chin that made it so that he had a hairless spot in his beard, and to cover it up he wore a beard-jewel with a sapphire on it, hence the "Bluebeard" nickname.

Overall my main grief was that, despite supposedly telling the "true story of Bluebeard", it offered us... something completely different, an entirely different and un-fairytale like story that seems to have been hastily stitched into the Bluebeard mythos. But I still decided to go on and check another tome of the series...

The Snow-White one. And... again, a disappointment and that's where I decided I wouldn't finish the trilogy.

It is too bad because there, at least the story clearly was a reflecton of "Snow-White", and there were some cool ideas in here. For example - a link formed between the dwarves and the "evil stepmother"! (She isn't queen here, Snow's father being... a count or marquis, or something, i can't recall well). I haven't seen a lot Snow White adaptations that decide to give something personal tying the dwarfs to the evil stepmother. Here, the evil stepmother used to be a scheming, ambitious circus-girl that ended up marrying Snow White's father pretending to be someone else (at least I think...), and ultimately, to get rid of her shameful past, set fire to the barn where her whole circus family was sleeping a few days before her wedding. And the dwarfs, as it turns out, were circus dwarfs who were part of the same team as the evil stepmother, and survived the fire, and still hold a grudge against her for killing their family. That's a neat and cool idea!

Similarly, the ending of the tale was also very interesting - to show how the tale is a "realistic" one that the Grimms "reinvented" into a magical one, in the historical story Snow White ends up actually dying, killed by her evil stepmother, and she only "survives in her glass coffin" because the dwarfs that had sheltered her grieve her and carry on her memory until their own death... That's a very cool and beautiful idea to oppose the sad reality of the death of a beloved young girl with the fairytale logic of "dead princesses come back to life thanks to their prince charming".

But unfortunately this comic still has so many flaws it becomes a dreary, bleak and even boring read. The tale is muddled, there's again gratuitous nudity (such as the evil stepmother getting undressed to "pay" the hunter she hired to kill Snow White) so blatantly un-needed (especially since the whole point of the stepmother's character was that she was tired of being used like a prostitute by the circus she came from), the framing device of the brothers Grimm commenting the tale they are reading is POSITIVELY USELESS (as in, they basically just do "Oh!" or "Ah!" or repeat what we just saw as readers - this felt like so much waste of ink and paper and space)... Oh yes, and there's also the problem of the defective print!

This isn't something exclusive to the copy I read - other reviewers online pointed it out. This tome got a big misprint issue resulting in the text of several speech bubbles being displaced onto other speech bubbles, or the dialogue of one page being interverted with the one of another page, making the story even more confusing and incomprehensible...

In conclusion: I do not recommend these comics, except if you are a fan of the artists who made each issue. But in terms of fairytale adaptations, or even of "dark fairytales", they're just... bad, and unrelated, and very poor. And I am sad THESE got promoted whenever there's talk of "adult fairytale BD".

#review #fairytale comics #bande dessinée #fairytale bd #comic books #dark fairytale #fairytale horror #bluebeard #snow white #french adaptations

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darsynia · 2 years ago

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Trust Fall | ch4b سورج کی روشنی

(MCU, Tony/OC 'terrorists made us fall in love,' IM1 timeline)

Summary: Emory Autumn works as a PA to pop star Rory Fall. While they’re in Afghanistan performing for the troops, Emory is taken prisoner along with billionaire Tony Stark. The terrorists think she’s Rory, and they’re expecting a ransom...

Length: 2,249 ((this chapter is in 2 parts))

Also! All chapter titles translate in some way to 'Sunlight.'

ARC reactor image by Eury Escodero on Unsplash | image by 'neverfeltbetter' on wordpress

In this chapter... The head terrorist shows up with one of Rory's CDs and demands that Emory sing from it...

I’m shy as hell about saying this but if anyone wants to be tagged or ask me to write something please do! Tags: @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon

Trust Fall Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Four: سورج کی روشنی

Emory heads back to her cot with a lot on her mind.

She wishes she had just put her hand on his chest below the magnet, and pushed him out of the way! That would have left her feeling less exposed, less like she’d directed that magnet to point at her body, instead. Can Stark even help it, the way he looks at women? Is it the same for everyone? She has to assume so. It’s not like she doesn’t know she’s often relegated to the ‘nice boobs in a dress’ role when going places with Rory.

It had happened so often recently that she actually feels like she might have lied to Stark about not being used to being on display. But it was always like being on a shelf, someone to look at and not touch, a facet of time spent with Rory Fall, her quiet PA with the big breasts.

Emory had hated being on the periphery like that at first, but people didn’t notice her after a while, and they’d say and do things that they wouldn’t have, if they’d known she was listening. She’d never have done the competition show at all if she’d known what that aspect of show business was like. No, Emory wants to do shows, musical theater, her favorite part of high school. She’s auditioned a few times, but nothing has come of it. It’s a shame, because as a contralto, her voice is valued but rare, and there isn’t as much competition for those roles.

Nothing had come of her association with Rory, none of the strings pulled like they’d been promised. Emory had told herself it was any number of things, but now as she sits in a cave in Afghanistan, the truth is so clear it’s embarrassing.

Rory needed her, and that was all that mattered. It was clear to everyone. Was it Rory or the execs that made a discreet, discouraging phone call?

Did it matter?

She takes off her shoes and throws them. At 20, 22, 24, those were the perfect ages to break in. Now she’s 25, and it’s not old, but if it takes five or so years to work up from ensemble, that makes her 30, 32, 33 by the time she gets that chance.

Stark is looking over. He stands up, and she scrambles to her feet.

“Don’t.”

“Oh, I’m not much of a gofer,” he says, grabbing something from the other side of the table.

Emory feels like a complete idiot.

“I’d kick them over, but the little rocks can really stick in there,” Stark adds, as if that helps smooth things over. “That and you look like you could probably set off one of these rockets with just your eyes,” he mutters.

“I want something to do,” she says.

“Well, you can’t help carry, but you can find an organized place to put that stuff?” he suggests, gesturing to the collection of objects on the table.

“I’m plenty strong for my size,” Emory says, but she walks over, snags her shoes, and meets Stark at the table. He gestures to the things he needs to stay, and she grabs a rectangular metal box from against the wall, cleans it out as best she can, and puts the rest of the items inside it.

“Your cot is the one in the middle of the room?” she asks, as Stark and Yinsen start carrying a missile over.

“Mmhmm,” Stark says, straining a little.

Emory notes that the way they have to carry the thing does actually press it against their torsos. That’s… not an available option for her, unless she varied positioning.

“What if I kept this under mine? I don’t want you to lose these things if they come in and start moving things around.”

He dusts off his hands and looks at her, his brown eyes assessing. “Ok. Thank you.”

Only after she puts the box with an inch or two sticking out at the foot of her cot does she realize that she’s put herself into the rhythm of his work as a matter of necessity. When he needs those things, he’ll have to come over to get them, whether she’s helping, or not.

Emory’s out of things to do but watch Stark, so she backs off out of his line of sight and leans up against the wall to do that. He’s removing screws that hold on the tail, always careful, especially when he has to turn the body of the thing to access the next tiny screw.

“How many languages do you speak?” he asks Yinsen. The interpreter rattles off many different ones, his tone implying a reluctant respect for the number of men the group has assembled, from so many various sources. Stark asks Yinsen what they call themselves, and Emory winces when Yinsen’s reply is to call them loyal customers of Stark Industries. He names the organization Ten Rings, which Emory’s never heard of before, but she’s not surprised. To say she and these people travel in different circles would be an understatement.

A shout sounds on the other side of the doors. Stark puts down the battery pack for a cordless drill he’d just examined, and Yinsen gets up to stand between them and the door. They open, and the bearded man comes in with a CD jewel case in his hand.

Emory’s heart sinks. Is this it? The point where they compare her face with Rory’s? She waits for the man to look at her, then at the jewel case, and frown-- but the last part doesn’t happen. He comes towards her, Yinsen trailing behind, and grins, saying something while shaking the CD case.

“He says he wants you to sing something from it.”

Stark’s standing behind the two of them, his expression grim, but Emory smiles at the terrorist. It has to be the ‘Watching’ album, her first. The album cover is of the back of Rory’s head and shoulders as she looks out on a beach scene. They’d styled her hair exactly like Emory’s is now.

“Which one?” she asks Yinsen, who passes the question along. Stark’s waving her off with subtle hand movements, which she’s grateful for considering the cameras are presumably still active. She ignores him, tossing her head to draw the terrorist’s attention to her hair, which she knows he likes.

If she can buy time acting the way he expects, she will.

The man shrugs when Yinsen passes along her query.

“Okay,” she says.

“Don’t you need instruments?” Stark asks. Emory’s pretty sure he’s doing it to get her out of the assignment, like he thinks she’ll fail miserably and he’ll have to watch her get shot and it’ll ruin his day, or something.

He’s wrong, though. She’s the one who taught Rory all of these songs.

She decides to sing the title track, because it’s kind of ballad-y with minimal accompaniment. The song is a low, sultry plea to the singer’s lover to come back to her, to stop worrying about the things that keep them apart. It’s one of the most emotional songs on the album; Emory’s heard that it’s harder for people to kill their victims when they see them as humans with emotional ties to the world and others. She can’t build something out of a stockpile of weapons, so Emory Autumn’s going to fight with the tools she has.

She doesn’t have perfect pitch, but she has relative pitch, so she starts in what is almost certainly the correct key.

I can’t go about my day

No shower, no coffee, no train

Nothing’s been the same

Since you pulled away

I get your life’s a mess

I don’t travel in your set

Can’t afford the right dress

That don’t make this hurt less

What good’s the money without love

Headlines don’t touch your face at night

Do you drive your Ferrari with the top down

Feelin’ the wind like my hands in your hair

Do you smile for the cameras knowing I’m watching

Do you sit alone and ache like I do

Premieres, interviews, fundraisers

Every girl you touch calls you sir

Your kingdom of subjects, empty as air

While this pauper watches from afar

What good’s the money without joy

Magazines can’t make you cry out a name

Do you drive your Ferrari with the top down

Feelin’ the wind like my hands in your hair

Do you smile for the cameras knowing I’m watching

Do you sit alone and ache like I do

I want you to know I’m watching

Counting the frown lines I’d have soothed

I want you to know I’m crying

Thinking about how perfectly we moved

Money ain’t memory, sweetheart-- you can’t take it with you

Can’t make you care more about your heart than your legacy

So I’ll just be here watching

Watching

Emory had gotten carried away around the second verse, closing her eyes and focusing on the words. At first she’d been remembering trying to get Rory to understand the word ‘pauper,’ arguing with her that her fans would not assume she was saying the word ‘puppy.’ But once she’d hit the words she loved most from the song, about the wind feeling like a lover’s hands, she’d thrown everything she had into the song.

When she’s done with the last, resonant low note, she opens her eyes. The bearded terrorist was waiting for her cue, it seems, because as soon as she looks at him, he grins, clapping his hands vociferously. He babbles a bunch of things out in a rush, nodding at Yinsen.

“He says you will be worth every penny.”

“What a compliment,” Emory says, her knees suddenly weak with both relief and deferred fear. She stumbles over to the table they eat their meals on. The man starts for the door, tossing a comment over his shoulder that makes Yinsen wince.

“Better than the recording, he says.”

“Yeah, that’s for a reason,” she mutters, scrubbing her hands over her face. “Fuck, that was terrifying.”

“You have an amazing talent,” Yinsen says quietly.

“Much good it’s done me, but thanks.” Emory sighs. “Are there any more chunks of bread?”

“Yes, sit, I’ll bring you some.”

She sits, suddenly cold. Looking over her shoulder towards her cot, Emory kind of wishes she could just will her blanket over to her.

“Rory can barely sing at all,” Stark says. His voice sounds strange, almost like he’s struggling to breathe. Emory shifts her gaze from her cot to the table where the billionaire is standing, staring at her.

“That’s not really true. She’s a soprano, but she can fake singing low, singing like me, and that’s what the execs have asked her to do for years. It fucks up your vocal cords, straining like that,” Emory says. She’s usually far more angrily defensive when talking about her friend, but there had been a moment where she’d thought she was going to die just by virtue of not being Rory. It’s still fucking with her head.

Years of Rory having to pretend to be Emory, vocally. At first, they’d tried to get her to act differently, too-- less excitable and fashion obsessed, more sexy and aloof. It had almost been a compliment for Emory, the idea that this might have been what they saw in her personality… but none of that really mattered. She’d just been a template, overlooked, likely discarded had it not been for Rory’s initial desperation and sense of guilt.

These things had been easier to ignore when she’d been working with Rory every day. Now? Some of the things she’d let go for years are proving that they’ve only seemed harmless. She’s been sweeping them under the rug for so long the dust bunnies have grown teeth.

“Does she pay you to do that? Explain away all her flaws?” Stark asks. He’s come over to the table.

“Here, they’ll bring more tomorrow, and it’ll be stale by then,” Yinsen says, handing her a large chunk of bread.

Emory takes a bite and looks up at Stark. He looks shaken, but she supposes that makes sense. The song is about a rich man, something she hadn’t really considered in context with Stark until just now. Because of his accusatory tone and seeming shock at her level of talent is nonzero, she feels loose and combative.

“No, she doesn’t pay me to tell the truth about her singing voice when someone disparages it to me, I just do that because she’s my friend.”

“Is she your friend, at this point?”

“Song hit a little too close to home, Mr. Florist?” Emory asks, tipping her head to the side and smiling sweetly.

Stark inclines his head, seeming to accept her jibe. “So hey, what happened to the ‘it’s better with feelings’ guy?” he asks, leaning his palms on the table, looking at her intently.

“Long-distance didn’t work out. Which kind of bears out what I said, doesn’t it?” she says, holding his gaze.

“Who left?”

“I did.”

He looks at her for many seconds, tracing his eyes across her face, along her hair, across her chest, and back up at her eyes. “It was a tour, wasn’t it? She took you on tour, and you lost him.” Stark’s smug certainty pisses her off.

“Fuck you,” she says, getting up and walking away.

“Imagine what a force of nature you’d be with someone who deserved that level of loyalty!” he shouts after her.

Next chapter, Emory's ruse is discovered, and Tony relies on his reputation as a womanizer to request that he be allowed to 'keep' her as a 'distraction.'

#tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x oc #tony stark x original character #iron man fanfiction #iron man #iron man x oc #iron man x original character #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #tony stark imagine #series: autonomy #ocfairygodmother #fyeahsuperverseocs

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oneeyedsnoot · 2 months ago

Text

I pressed send.

My heartbeat was in my throat. She'd been complimenting me on my looks and making so many sexual jokes but that doesn't actually mean she wants to actually see my tiddies ... Does she?

Oh well. We can write it off as a blunder if it goes bad...

Oh god.

*ding!*

My face flooded with horror and embarrassment as I opened my phone.

"🫣🫢✋🏻😩"

I felt a rush of adrenaline and dopamine that ended in a wince of regret. She's just being a girls girl. Supportive. A gal complimenting a bra in the girls locker room. She has a boyfriend and even tho she says she's bi, she's not into me.

"teehee! Thanks girlie 😘 you finally get to see my tits! Were they everything you hoped they would be? Lol"

I made a mistake. She can't know how hard this is to share for me; a demi sexual virgin who has never been this vulnerable with anyone - nor wanted to with anyone else. How can she know? She's been on one night stands, clearly the sacredness of my naked body doesn't translate as monumental to her.

"yur so hot omg 🥵🥵🥵 I want to kiss you on the mouth! 😝🤭"

I couldnt tell. I just couldnt tell if this was still a joke. My heart thundered and I wanted to cry.

"I'd kiss you back 🤭

Want another photo? 👀" I asked.

Maybe I was finally ready to push her to the limit and see how far she'd go. I couldn't keep worrying about her cheating on her boyfriend with me, that was her decision and not mine. What if they decided that I was welcome as a third (not that Id want to sleep with her man: gross) or that he gave her permission to try out being lesbian with me? My brain went around in circles and circles about the ramifications about my feelings.

"YES 🥵"

Goosebumps raised on my arms.

Okay

She wants more.

Picked through more selfies and dropped two more. Again I felt violently exposed but with it a light headedness, a rush of excitement.

"MOTHER 🙏🏻" she said

....

I struggled to regulate my breathing.

"ok WBU 👀😝🫣" I texted back.

I hid my phone under my pillow and screamed into the plush fabrics. I didnt think I could be trusted not to jack off on the images she might send me. Was I a horrible and perverted friend? Was she touching herself to images of me or was she watching a movie with her boyfriend and hyping me up as a friend as I sent her filthy nudes as a bit.

"👉🏻👈🏻 okee!"

(image)

My eyes about popped out of their sockets. Her smooth perfect chest was uninterrupted by clothing. Her perky small breasts down to her flat smooth stomach that tucked into the most perfect hips. She wore nothing but some beige panties. My finger on the screen holding the image open started to sweat. Do I screenshot and have Instagram alert her I did so or let it go and lose it forever? I panicked and made the worst decision: I screenshoted it.

*you took a screenshot* appeared in tiny letters in the center of the message screen.

"omg stop girlie you're so fucking hot ✋🏻😭please don't stop grrruffruffruffbark" I quickly said, wishing the small words would disappear.

She took a moment to respond.

"oh you like that 😼

Horny jail 🫵🏻"

I laughed in surprise. Girl where was your line! How far are you going to let this go?

I couldn't find an emoji for handcuffs or shackles or even jail so I settled for three police cars and captioned:

"if finding you hot is a crime"

And before my anxiety could make me exit into the next life from embarrassment -

"(image)"

She was grabbing one of her tits seductively and looking up into the camera. I screenshoted again, feeling like I was granted permission. I was so scared and so so wet.

"omg girlie I'm wet 🥵" I had to remind myself that she was an adult and could tell me to stop or simply stop responding or change conversation. I wasn't coercing her into anything. I repeated that sentence a few times trying to stifle my OCD.

"yeah you're wet for me? Aw 🥰 how cute 💕"

Mentally ill brain turned to mush brain and with it came a backbone.

I said "girl you're so hot I want to lick you all over. 👅😋"

"I'd let you 🤭"

I was losing my mind.

"I want to suck those sexy tits holy shit✋🏻😩

Please stop me. Please tell me to fuck off.

"oh!"

Shit. Not good. She hates me now. Our friendship is over and I just made everything super weird.

"😈🙏🏻 I want to suck on your mommy milkers too 😼"

My eyes went wide. Holy shit holy shit holy shit!

"plEASE 🙏🏻 they're the perfect size for nursing 🤭" I replied

"💯"

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blooming-violets · 10 months ago

Text

Before we begin, I need you to know that I am so happy right now. It's a very fleeting and strange emotion for me to chill with but it's here tonight and I'm enjoying it and I'm glad I spend a part of it while reading your delicious words.

I'm gonna do an old play by play reaction because I miss those and I need you to know my every thought the second I am having it.

Okay, first of all, it's hard for me to wrap my head around the fact this is our Peter and Honey back for more. It makes me wants to do my happy butt wiggle while I cackle up at the ceiling. My sweet precious babies are back. Oh how I have missed them. What a journey they have been on. What a moment in time that was. Pure perfection.

>>> your trip to pound town? 🍆🍑

Ooooh Felicia I have missed you, too, bby.

Peter swallowed hard. Tried to rid his expression of any hint of impatience or irritation.

Bitch you do not get to be impatient or irritated with this woman ever again. If she wants to make you wait all night long at a restaurant without ordering anything than you better put a lil smile on your stupid face and do anything she says for the rest of time. You owe this woman everything.

who didn’t expect to be subject to “este cabrón” and his picky girlfriend

I audibly snorted when I googled the translation of that. Yup. That's Peter for sure.

When Peter approached her earlier that afternoon in the park, he’d expected a much worse welcome.

Wow. It is like RIGHT RIGHT after. Not even a time jump or nothing! You're giving the girlies everything they wanted and more. (It's me. I'm the girlies.)

Which flowers say, ‘I apologize that the last conversation we had, I called you a whore in front of a room full of cops’?”

WAS THAT THE LAST CONVERSATION THEY HAD BEFORE HE LEFT I DONT EVEN REMEMBER omg i need to reread everything and live through that emotional trauma all over again

a cotton ruched-waist, tea-length gown in a yellow gingham pattern. It featured a sweetheart neckline that cradled her breasts perfectly between the halter tie-back straps.

Two things that you always do better than anyone else (well, actually you do everything better than anyone else but shh) is your detailed descriptions of clothes and interiors. I feel like I could show you any outfit and you could write a perfectly, elegant description of it in way that just makes it come to life in your imagination. I miss your descriptions of Peter's mansion cabins and penthouses and luxury hotel rooms and every single sexy outfit he or Honey ever wore.

Truthfully, he needed her to come home.

I would like to know if this man has cum at all in the past four months. He either gets off by reliving his memories with her and then cries himself to sleep afterwards OR he punishes himself by refusing to even cum without her there. A masturbation ban as punishment for his deeds. And I hope it's the latter because I need him on the edge of his seat about to burst simply from the sight of her.

She narrowed her eyes to slits. “Hmm. Six hours. Long time to wait.” Her eyes fell down to the menu again. Her lack-of-sympathy said everything.

I. MISSED. THIS. BEAUTIFUL. AMAZING. WONDERFUL. WOMAN. SO. MUCH. He deserves everything he's about to get in this fic and he better take it all with a smile and a thank you. I need dom Honey back in my life asap.

>>> the fuck? what do you mean? >>> she was in love with you b4... how hard can it be to take her on a date? >>> christ. did you fuck this up, parker?

He is, Felicia. He is. Maybe Honey and Felicia should date instead. That'd be hot. I'll write an au fic of your au fic.

>>> don’t get all crazy possessive either

It's too late, Felicia. Your man is losing the plot. He's spiraling! Pedro was all it took to unravel his delicate ego!

“Did you think you were gonna shave your face, take me to a fancy dinner, and then I’d just... open my legs for you?”

I miss the beard already.

“Big bad mob boss—all that power—and yet, you couldn’t just talk to me? You had me wait around for you like a stray dog! You can just come and go as you please, but you—you expect me to follow you around on a leash?”

.........it might be kind of hot though

This:

He should break down the fucking door. Throw her over his shoulder and tie her up. Gag her—Anything to get her to listen.

To this:

Fuck—He was going to cry.

Is the most perfect representation of Sugar and Vice Peter. A man who is emotionally stunted and repressed vs the woman who makes him feel all the emotions at once = a little bitch. A beautiful little bitch who I want to chop up and eat with a fork until there is nothing left.

Before Peter could open his mouth to speak, she was on him like a viper.

Yeeeessssssssss that's my girl! Hate fuck that pathetic man!

Immediately, he was met with an open-palmed slap on the cheek.

There’s my girl.

Peter snatched her by her shoulders and slammed her back into the wall, pinning her there. She went feral—hissing and raging at her entrapment.

Is feral Honey better than dom Honey?? Idk who I like more!

Apparently, he wasn’t the only beast in the room.

I think the "will they fuck" or "will they kill each other first" is my favorite thing in the entire world. I need the hate and anger and the passion and fact that they both can't physically resist each other to swallow me whole. I want to drink it up and pour it over my skin. I want to live here forever.

He dipped deftly, his spine bowing back, narrowly missing the bowl as it whipped past him. The object barreled through a crystal chandelier, glass shattering like raindrops as they came down.

The dude in the hotel room across the hall who's hearing all this and unsure if he should call the cops or start furiously masturbating:

but mostly with indignation that Honey had somehow destroyed $1,000 worth of the hotel’s tchotchkes in a few seconds.

That's his girl!!! Woo!

“See, if I were a jealous man,” he noted with an evil sneer, “I woulda gouged his eyes out with a salad fork.”

I got so sucked in that I forgot to comment on things because I was too busy holding my breath and biting the fuck out of my knuckle as I lapped up every word. But, yes, I would like to see a fight between Peter and Pedro Pascal because that would be v sexy. and I would like to see him gouge out his eye with a salad fork because that would also be very sexy and Pedro would probably look hot with an eyepatch. Ok let me get back to the sexiness and try to remember to breathe.

Honey felt drunk off of the vitriol he poured into her ear. It was violent and possessive... and it shouldn’t have made her so horny, and yet—

Girl, me too, I feel ya.

It was like a mask had fallen away, and the man on top of her transformed into a different person. Maliciousness evaporated, replaced by eagerness. Desperation.

god damn I am having a roller coaster of emotions tonight wtf bringing me up and down like this what gives you the right how dare you fuck you ily

like reminding her of a forgotten dream

it feels like forever ago omg the start of something beautiful and horrifying and sexy and dark and enchanting AND THAT WAS ALL YOU LIZ ALL YOU. YOU DID THAT.

“...Pedro.”

I wish you could have seen how wide my eyes got and the purely evil that spread across my face.

“Think that’s funny?” he said through gritted teeth.

Yes. She's hilarious.

“If you ever call out another man’s name when I’m inside ya again— I’ll make ya wear nothin’ but my cum for the next week.”

Fueled by devotion usually only reserved for a wedding day.

ok but imagine what their wedding day/night would look like??? fuck getting Honey a dress just have her walk down the aisle butt ass naked because we all know that dress wouldn't survive the night. it would be an overly expensive, handcrafted, one of a kind beautiful dress and Peter would have it in shreds

Jesus Fucking Christ, he’s talking about my pussy? In the third person?

babe i wouldnt be surprised if had a name for it with that way he worships her

She wept and squirmed, practically drooling on the table.

I think I'm drooling over here, too.

This was wrong, he reasoned. Not how he wanted this to go. Poor girl sounded brainless, begging to be fucked. He wasn’t much better off. This wasn’t how he planned this to go.

A little late for that train of thought, Pete.

And god, she'd forgotten he was thick.

Oh please you know she hasn't forgotten a SINGLE DETAIL about this man's cock

“Not until I’ve said what I shoulda said—!”

NOW?? AS YOUR BALLS DEEP WITH HER ARMS TIED BEHIND HER BACK AND HER FACE PRESSED AGAINST A TABLE AWAY FROM YOU?? NOW IS THE TIME YOU CHOSE?!

They stayed still for eons. Nothing but their breaths and heartbeats between them, eyes locked on each other.

and her arms tied behind her back. having a heartfelt conversation. i'd expect nothing less of them.

Then another. He was going to fuck her into submission atop the throne he built for her. She was already his queen. Then—He’d make her his whore.

The mob boss wife of his dreams

But not right now. Not while Peter Parker stood ass-naked outside of his door, having been kicked out like a cheap fuck.

You deserve it, you little whore. What I wouldn't see to witness him doing the walk of shame out of Honey's hotel room.

The nerve of this woman. This goddess-barista who served him his soul in a paper cup. Who held the keys to his heart, his home, and presently, his hotel room. Who somehow managed to kick him out of the penthouse suite of his own hotel.

What can we say? The man is in love.

>>> DO NOT FUCK HIM!!1

THE MASTER MANIPULATOR. I feel like Felicia is out here playing dolls with these two dumbasses. Pulling the strings of fate to mash them together.

ugh

perfection

I missed you. I missed your writing. I missed your characters. The way you write is so captivating. It draws you in and holds on tight and never lets you go. It sticks around with you long after you've gone. I'll be 100 years old and on my death bed croaking out to my nurses "Hey do you remember Honey and Peter? Remember when they used to hate fuck and it was the most romantic and filthy and deep and heartfelt and smutty thing you'd ever read?" And they'll be like "okay katie go into the light please"

and I will die happy.

love on the brain: sugar & vice, vol 2 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!OC]

summary: You didn’t think it was going to be easy, did you? AKA The night Peter and Honey reunited—Four. Months. Later. [mob!peter parker x oc!MJ]

words: 11.8k (omfg)

NSFW/MINORS DNI - ABANDON ALL CHASTITY, YE WHO ENTER HERE (detailed warnings below)

extended warnings (spoilers): p^rn with plot, detailed smut, really just... filthy and deranged. slightly dubcon parts (although consent is clearly confirmed), no Y/N...ever, arguing, anger, jealousy, physical violence (slapping, scratching, throwing objects), almost hate sex, fem!reader with a vagina and breasts and wears a dress, oral (f! receiving), P in V, rough!dom Peter, sub!reader, possessive!peter, mirrors, titty!worship, shame and slight degradation, use of emojis, f! being restrained, discussion of masturbation, slight breeding kink, non-consensual voyeurism, moderate BDSM kink, “punishment” play (spanking, edging) bratty reader, peter parker being a dunce around women, mob!au, furniture harmed in the making of this

names used: daddy, princess, baby, babygirl

A/N: This is a one-shot standalone story that takes place immediately after the Epilogue of Vol 1. And serves as the official beginning of Vol. 2. If you haven’t read Vol.1, you really should. The main OC is AFAB and goes by the name “Honey.” You’ll need to read Vol. 1 to know why. I try to be loose with my descriptions for people who prefer a Reader-Insert. But I’m not perfect. In this canon, Honey has a Latina heritage (as do I). Take that as you will. Thanks to @moonyslove78 and @blooming-violets for cheering me on through this very long hiatus.

This is 18+ AF. And if you think the term ‘AF’ shows how old and out of touch you are, then you’re probably not old enough to read this.

This version of TASM Peter Parker is not canon. The relationships here are not healthy and the characters need therapy. Don’t date a mob boss IRL.

#1 - Love on the Brain

>>> heya boss. how’s your trip? 😜

Peter arched a brow as he peeked down at the text message.

>>> ⋯ >>> your trip to pound town? 🍆🍑

He rolled his eyes, swallowing back an irritated snort.

Real mature, Felicia.

He almost tapped out a haughty reply but stopped. Corners of his mouth turned down, he found himself unable to respond.

“So many choices. I just don’t know what I want.”

An understatement.

The girl of his dreams sat across from him in the quaint East Harlem Cuban restaurant. They were crammed together at a bistro table near the kitchen. The enormous menu took up the entire surface, and she had spent the last 25 minutes reading the items aloud.

It was nearly 11 p.m., and they had yet to pick an appetizer.

The woman he’d called ‘his Honey’ sweetly sighed with a shrug. “Now that we’re here, I just can’t make up my mind.”

Her voice had a singsong tune to it, purposefully careless. Blissfully ignorant of the fact that Peter was starving.

“Maybe I’m just not feeling Cuban food tonight,” she shrugged, nonchalant.

Peter swallowed hard. Tried to rid his expression of any hint of impatience or irritation.

“Oh,” he remarked delicately, thinking of all the different dinner reservations he’d made for tonight. It didn’t matter what magazine talked it up, didn’t matter how many “tire awards” it had won.

Honey was unimpressed.

“M’surprised,” he said, as emotionlessly as possible. “Thought you had your heart set on this place.”

The place was one of those hole-in-the-wall joints that had less than 10 tables, which made takeout the most popular choice.

On this night however—a Tuesday— the restaurant was nearly empty, except for the overdressed couple and the loathsome kitchen staff, who didn’t expect to be subject to “este cabrón” and his picky girlfriend strolling in 30 minutes before closing.

While Peter could feel the heat of their ire over the oven, Honey avoided it. She explained to the manager that Peter was “un ricacho que tiene demasiado dinero.” And with that, they were seated.

When Peter approached her earlier that afternoon in the park, he’d expected a much worse welcome. He nearly died of a panic attack when he spotted her on the park bench. It had been four long months since he’d attempted to communicate with her, and he half-expected her to throw her iced coffee in his face.

Actually, he had no idea what to expect from her. Terrifyingly.

Peter had lamented to Felicia— “There’s no card that says, ‘Sorry, I ghosted you for a few months while attempting to shake the heat off my back.’ Which flowers say, ‘I apologize that the last conversation we had, I called you a whore in front of a room full of cops’?”

The true challenge came when Peter actually looked into her eyes. He didn’t expect that one look would render him useless.

She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Ethereal. Glowing. The human equivalent of a bouquet of sunflowers, with happy round cheeks and her hair tied back in a ponytail. She was the color of rainbows, and summer, and sunshine. She was the cherries of her red lip stain and the golden rays of her yellow linen sundress.

God, that dress.

Peter planned for everything—but not that dress.

His carefully rehearsed speech went out the window when he saw her in that dress: a cotton ruched-waist, tea-length gown in a yellow gingham pattern. It featured a sweetheart neckline that cradled her breasts perfectly between the halter tie-back straps.

He had no idea where that dress came from, but it was the most perfect piece of fabric ever to grace a woman’s body. He would buy her twelve more of them, no matter the cost. He’d buy every last one.

He’d give her the sun, the ocean, Hawai’i, and all the stars in the sky— if only she’d forgive him. He was ready to throw himself on a bed of hot coals as long as it meant that she would take him back. If she would come back home.

Truthfully, he needed her to come home.

Not to get ahead of himself, he started by taking her to dinner.

That was Felicia’s advice—women love dinner. solves everything. the fancier, the better, with lots of red meat—u know how they say food is the way to a man’s heart? dinner is the way to the ovaries. works every time.

Actually, Felicia gave Peter lots of advice. For once, he was more than grateful to accept it.

>>> make her feel like you can’t take your eyes off her. but don’t stare. like a creeper >>> be a gentleman, but not a pushover. you wanna be the good guy. soft YA novel boyfriend type

Followed quickly by—

>>> but not too soft! don’t be a little bitch. if she plays hard to get, you play offense. >>> and defense.

Peter had no idea what she was talking about. But he knew when it was wise to trust the advice of more intelligent creatures than men.

Five restaurants later...

“I thought going to dinner was your idea?” Honey asked with pursed lips.

“It was; it was my idea,” he nervously replied. “Six hours ago—it was my idea.”

She narrowed her eyes to slits. “Hmm. Six hours. Long time to wait.” Her eyes fell down to the menu again. Her lack-of-sympathy said everything.

Peter’s pocket buzzed again, and he glanced down at the incoming text message from Felicia.

>>> ...????

He rolled his eyes. Tapped out a response.

<<< Not great.

“Am I interrupting something?” Honey asked with a clipped tone.

Peter jumped, pocketing his phone immediately. “No, just... just something... silly,” he muttered. “How ‘bout we get a few plates in, yeah? I’m gonna just order some stuff—”

“Like what?” she questioned skeptically.

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged, his stomach twisting. “One of everything.”

“That’s wasteful,” Honey said, judgment sharpening her gaze. “Food waste is bad enough as it is in this city.”

“Well, at this point,” he snapped with an exasperated sigh, “I might be able to eat two of everything.” The words floated away from him, and he bit the inside of his cheek, wishing they would come back. Hesitantly, he made eye contact with Honey.

She peered at him disgustedly from over the top of her menu. She scoffed, crossing one leg over the other, and dropped the leather-bound book closed.

“Don’t let me slow you down,” Honey said icily. “I’m not that hungry anyway.”

Peter’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. His pocket buzzed again.

>>> the fuck? what do you mean? >>> she was in love with you b4... how hard can it be to take her on a date? >>> christ. did you fuck this up, parker?

He shoved the phone back in his jacket, nearly punching through the silk fabric.

“If I’m wasting your time, tell me,” Honey sharply retorted. She crossed her arms even tighter across her chest. He had to force himself to look away from the way it plumped her breasts together. “I’d hate to keep you from something important.”

Felicia was right. He was fucking this up. Before he could open his mouth—

“Excuse me, señorita,” a masculine, smoky voice crooned at them.

Peter and Honey glanced up to see a chiseled man in his 30s approach the table with a hurricane glass of ice. He was a specimen of Latin American art—a bronzed statue, with carved muscles that bulged out of his floral shirt. Deep brown eyes—no, hazel eyes— fixed on Honey as he reached across the table with rolled-back sleeves. The corded muscles in his arm, toned by long hours of hard labor, flexed gracefully as he gently set a cocktail in front of her.

A frosted, colorless liquid speckled with crushed mint leaves filled the glass. Honey blinked with delighted surprise.

“Our compliments,” the young, disgustingly attractive waiter explained with a sultry smile and a thick accent. “In case you found yourself thirsty while browsing the menu.”

A blush colored her skin as she glanced up at their handsome waiter. The sparkle in her smile was as blinding as ever, and she graciously looked back between the glass and the server. The waiter— no way in hell this fuckin’ guy is a waiter— beamed back at her, enamored.

“Oh, wow!” she gasped, reaching for the glass with dainty fingers. “Is this a mojito? That’s my favorite! How did you know?”

The waiter graciously chuckled. “Lucky guess. You look like a woman of refined taste.”

Peter felt his blood pressure rising.

Honey didn’t even look at her date, as if he was suddenly invisible. “Thank you,” she grinned, self-satisfied. “I mean, I do know my way around a Bacardi bottle.” The waiter chuckled, maybe too hard, at her silly joke.

“We want you to enjoy your evening with us,” the waiter added politely, sparing Peter a glance but keeping all his attention on Honey. “We are honored to have you as our guest.”

The waiter spoke gentlemanly as he splayed his long fingers across his chest. “Please, take as much time as you need. No need to feel rushed. It is my pleasure to serve you.”

Peter could feel a twitch behind his eye. Could have been the fire shooting out of his eyes. Fuck this prick, probably another Broadway reject or somethin’, couldn’t buy himself a decent shirt—His mind churned along with his anger.

Oblivious, Honey beamed up at him with a golden smile. “Thank you so much for saying that,” she replied, endearingly sweet. “You are too kind, um... I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Pedro.”

Honey’s brows shot to her hairline. “Pedro?” she repeated, absolutely delighted. She glanced over at Peter. “Isn’t that something?”

The mob boss’ lip curled mirthlessly. “Oh, it’s somethin,’ alright.”

Peter continued to burn his stare—fuck his stupid accent— into the side of the aloof waiter’s head. He wondered if Pedro’s handsome, chiseled jawline was sharp enough to cut through a noose.

Buzz..

>>> you’re keepin’ your cool, right? >>> remember what i said. >>> anything she wants. no questions asked! >>> don’t get all crazy possessive either

The joyful sound of her laughter ripped his attention away from his phone and back towards his charmed date.

“Pedro,” she sweetly preened. “Can you give us a recommendation?” She briefly flashed her eyes at Peter before looking back at her new friend. “My date’s clearly distracted. He has no idea what I like.”

Oh? Peter raised a brow at that. And lost his appetite.

Peter followed Honey down the hallway to his hotel suite while storm clouds swirled in his gut. Lighting crackled with each footfall. Tension clogged the atmosphere, and they shuffled in a silent fog to the door.

Despite Felicia’s advice about controlling his inner beasts, Peter’s hackles were raised, and his stomach growled. Now, he was hungry for more than just food. And simultaneously, he’d never felt so powerless.

Peter noted how tightly she wrapped her arms around herself. Her face suggested she was deep in thought. He wondered if she was just as tightly wound as he was. Wondered if she could break his heart with just a look.

He was flailing. Pathetic.

Peter’s fist clenched his keycard tight. He had to be careful not to snap the card in half between his fingers. Was it from excitement or terror? Desire or rage?

He had to focus, to make this work. He had nothing if he didn’t have her.

Rigidly, Peter pushed the door open and stood to the side of the frame to let her enter.

She paused briefly, lips tight, as she gazed into the rotunda entryway of the lavish suite. They hadn’t spoken in the car, and he hadn’t had the chance to explain the location.

Letting out a steady breath, she strode through the threshold and stopped. Her body blocked the doorway. She turned to look up at Peter, defiant eyes flashing.

“This is as far as you go.”

Peter blinked, looking at her in confusion.

Her tone was curt. Icy. He recognized that sound. It was the tone of voice she used when she wanted to draw blood, and it never failed to inflict pain. Her voice. Her eyes. Even her tongue was razor-sharp.

Peter curled a brow upwards. “Sorry?”

Honey narrowed her eyes. “Not yet, you’re not.”

He took a step back, blinking owlishly.

“What did you think was going to happen tonight, Peter?” The ire of Honey’s question sliced through him. “Did you think you were gonna shave your face, take me to a fancy dinner, and then I’d just... open my legs for you?”

A literal ellipsis formed in his mind.

Peter swallowed hard. “Uhhh—?”

“‘I’ll wait for forever, Honey,’ she parroted his earlier admission mockingly. “Is that all you have to say to me? You left me! For four months!”

Peter nodded his head, not sure exactly why or when he began. “I know, I know...”

“You know!?”

The walls of etiquette and politeness between them began to crack.

“How many times I gotta tell ya? I was tryin’ to protect ya, Honey—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

It stung like a snake bite. Rage filled her eyes, disdain bubbling out of her mouth. She had only just begun.

“You buy me all this expensive bullshit!” she scolded. “And you dress up in your ridiculous designer suits and parade me to all these fucking pretentious places! Like I’m some kind of accessory! Like you own the whole fucking city and everyone in it!”

He replied with a string of noises. Or, at least, he thought so.

“Honey, please. Let me explain—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Peter!” her voice echoed through the rotunda and down the hall of the hotel. “I don’t want to hear a single one of your lame excuses! I don’t want a fancy dinner, or a new Porsche, or a mansion, or whatever else makes your dick hard!”

Peter blinked rapidly, stunned. His body responded as if she had just kicked him in the place she referenced, “Jus’lemme—”

“And I sure as hell don’t want another apology!” she asserted definitively. “I don’t want you anywhere near me!”

Peter’s jaw hung open, tongue dead in his mouth. The woman who barely stood at his collarbone stared down at him, making him feel inches tall.

“Now, I’m going to bed. Exactly as I have been for the last four months.” Her voice thundered, “Alone!”

With that, the door slammed in his face, rattling inches from his nose. The echo reverberated through the empty hallway and inside his chest, emphasizing the deep crack that formed.

Peter let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The shock subsided slowly, and his heart sank. The ache soon sizzled into a burn, boiling his blood. At the same time, the sting of her rejection was raw. Unbearable.

Unbelievable.

Absolutely unacceptable.

He should break down the fucking door. Throw her over his shoulder and tie her up. Gag her—Anything to get her to listen.

Haplessly, Peter’s eyes fell on his expensive shoes—his Valentinos. Or maybe these were the Tom Ford’s? He had no clue. Just more bullshit.

Fuck—He was going to cry. Maybe he should let himself just do it. Lean into it. Drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Shoulders slumped, he squeezed his eyes closed.

He was a little bitch.

Peter pictured a door closing on a rocket or an airplane. Whatever it was, it was leaving him behind. He was falling back to Earth, having placed too much faith in miracles. This was his punishment for flying that close to the sun—

The door swung open.

Two hands grabbed Peter’s jacket, pulling him forward off his heels. It was a surprisingly fluid motion; his heartbreak had reduced the mass of his bones to nothing.

Honey’s nails practically pierced his lapels. She yanked him through the doorway into the suite, slamming the door behind him, and slamming him into the door right after.

Before Peter could open his mouth to speak, she was on him like a viper.

A sharp, biting kiss swallowed him whole, stealing the oxygen from his lungs. The heat was as intense as he had remembered. This time, they didn’t melt into one another. Honey was like a wildfire, her touch scalding him.

His skin flushed from the sudden unbearable heat. Before he could react, her lithe fingers started tugging the edges of his jacket. Clumsily, she tried pushing it back over his broad shoulders. As soon as he knew of her intent, he eagerly obliged, shrugging the garment off and to the floor.

Her hands went to his throat, ebony-painted nails leaving trails on his skin. Buttons popped as she yanked on his clothes. Her goal could have been to draw blood with her kiss.

Every time her teeth tore at his lips, he responded with a groan into her mouth.

Clumsy, he fumbled with his fingers—reaching up to grip her by the hair. Finally, he wrenched her head back, detaching her bite from his face.

Immediately, he was met with an open-palmed slap on the cheek.

Sharp gasps cut through them, and they jumped backward a few feet. Tension and shock reverberated in the chasm they created. Like the barometric pressure plunging before a storm, an eerie calm settled over them.

Honey blinked at him, jaw agape and her palm throbbing.

Peter glared at her in silence. He looked a mess—hair unkempt, the top buttons of his shirt torn open to reveal jagged crimson scratch marks across his milky skin.

His heartbeat steadily increased as he gently dabbed his fingertips at the ache in his jaw. The exquisite lines of his face were stained pastel pink, flushed by arousal or anger. His eyes were black as night, so it could have been either one.

She looked just as wrecked. Dress askew, her hairstyle half-unraveled. Goosebumps dotted her skin. She looked shocked at the violence she was capable of, surprised and possibly guilty at her own strength. As the seconds passed, the feelings faded.

Peter watched her, pupils dilating, blood pressure rising. The shadow of a smile curved his mouth. His features darkened into something primal. Something familiar.

There’s my girl.

Slowly, he lowered his hand, studying her threatening look until his own expression began to match.

Physically, his senses were haywire. Danger, excitement, and a sick sort of pleasure rattled his bones and labored his breathing. The hairs on his skin stood on end. Alarms blared in his head. The sound of his own blood was almost deafening to him, thumping like a kick drum.

Peter could hear her heart, too. Fast. Like a rabbit. He was a wolf in pursuit.

Maybe the pain of her slap triggered him, a preemptive action against further attack.

She got one in, Peter mused mockingly. He knew she was no match. Not as Peter’s night vision sharpened. Not while he could taste the salt from her perspiration on his tongue. Most intoxicating of all, Peter could smell her desire. Like a rose bursting open.

In another blink, they switched positions. Peter snatched her by her shoulders and slammed her back into the wall, pinning her there. She went feral—hissing and raging at her entrapment.

Not a rabbit. A honey badger, then.

“Get off of me!” Honey spat.

“Shut up,” he ordered. Quiet and fierce.

Fingers gripping her forearms tight, he attacked her lips, teeth colliding. The ferocity stunned her. For a moment, it seemed like she finally submitted to him before she wriggled her mouth free.

“Mmffucker—Let me go!”

His body might as well have been a brick wall. His face was stonelike, eyes just as cold.

“No.”

Honey’s brow scrunched up like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. “I’ll scream!” she countered.

Peter smirked, the hickory in his eyes igniting. “Baby. You have no idea.”

Peter’s guarantee sent a shiver down Honey’s spine. He saw the gears turning in her mind as she carefully considered pushing him further.

He hoped she would.

His fingers tightened around her forearms. He crucified her under his gaze. And yet, despite the danger anyone else would have felt... A glimmer of curiosity flickered in her eyes.

It set his mind reeling. A tiny sign of weakness to temptation made Peter’s stomach trapeze. He zeroed in on it, licking his chops.

Not to make it easy, Honey brought her knee up, attempting to make contact with his groin. There was nearly a foot of difference between their heights, and she paid it no mind.

Brave girl.

Peter admired her tenacity. She had balls. Smart, too, he pleasantly recognized. Honey went for the weak spot first. Good call.

Pointless, though.

Nothing below Peter’s belt was weak when she was around.

Unfairly, Peter picked up on her attack before her leg was even bent. He snatched her above the knee, lifting her toes off the ground and prying her thighs open.

He pictured the bruises on her skin that his fingertips would leave behind. Just the thought made him rock hard.

A year ago, Peter would have been ashamed. He would have shied away from her, for fear of repulsing her, and took out his frustration by himself in the shower.

Grinding his teeth at those memories, he pressed Honey’s hips into his waist, forcing her legs around him, and—Fuck—her heat.

Peter’s brain nearly short-circuited. She was like a bonfire against his belly. His cock pushed against his trousers, straining for her warmth. He secured her hips to his with a tight grip, which only pissed her off more. She thrashed, enraged.

She really needed to stop doing that. It only made the burn worse.

A few months ago, Peter would have been ashamed of the rush he felt from manhandling her. Ashamed of how his cock ached and twitched at her fruitless tantrums.

“Fucking asshole!” Honey sneered.

“Yeah?” he said with a bitter laugh. “You're a spoiled little brat!”

“Fuck you!”

“See what I mean?” Peter scoffed, holding her tighter. He breathed hotly into the shell of her ear. “Not even a ‘please.’”

His pride was short-lived. Inexplicably, Honey arched her neck and buried her teeth into his shoulder. He roared—“Fuck! What the fuck!!??” —surprised she didn’t bite through the silk of his collared shirt.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only beast in the room.

They tumbled down ungracefully. Peter landed hard on his back, with Honey crashing on top of him. She collapsed on his lungs, knocking the wind from his chest. Sputtering, he reached out to grab her, his fingertips barely missing the hem of her dress. The small woman scrambled to her hands and knees, then to her feet.

Honey dashed into the suite while Peter’s voice echoed—“Goddamnitareyacrazy!?”—after her.

Padding on her toes, she ran into a darkened living room with vaulted ceilings that might have been large enough to fit her entire apartment. Outside glass walls, the Midtown skyline surrounded her. The Metlife and Empire State Buildings glittered proudly in a breathtaking view.

The room was situated in the corner of the building. Velvet curtains framed the floor-to-ceiling windows, providing an unobstructed view of the city. The Dark Academia-Meets-Glam aesthetic seating area featured a sleek, modern leather sectional and mod velvet chaise lounge chat set.

Without time to admire any of it, she scrambled to the first piece of furniture she could reach. She grabbed the first thing her fingers could find—a designer fruit bowl centerpiece made of polished stainless steel and brass pomegranates.

It was exquisite and expensive.

Honey spun on her heel and flung the heavy metal at Peter.

He dipped deftly, his spine bowing back, narrowly missing the bowl as it whipped past him. The object barreled through a crystal chandelier, glass shattering like raindrops as they came down.

“Hey—!” he scowled, facing her with an indignant glare.

A moment later, he quickly shielded his face from another flying object: an asymmetrical crystal-and-Riverstone candelabra that crumbled against his forearm. It might as well have been a brick, with ceramic shards tumbling off of his shoulder.

Peter bristled in aggravation, brushing the pieces off. Now, she was really pissing him off.

He glanced up just in time to see a glass vase containing two dozen roses—meant to be her gift—hurtling towards his head. Reflexively, he snatched it from the air with one hand, water and all. He palmed the crystal vase like catching a baseball. Didn’t spill a drop.

His quick reflexes stunned the both of them. Peter’s jaw went slack—partially at his ability to save the flowers, but mostly with indignation that Honey had somehow destroyed $1,000 worth of the hotel’s tchotchkes in a few seconds.

“Enough!” Peter barked, carefully setting the vase down. Ignoring him, the woman darted toward another side table, already reaching for another expensive object to throw at him.

Suddenly, Honey’s ankle was caught in a sticky grip. Both legs pulled out from beneath her. She flattened immediately with an ooof—her belly dropping to the wool carpet.

Dazed, she glanced back at her legs with a crease in her brow. With a jolt, she was pulled along by a stringy, spongy substance on her ankle. It felt the way canned compressed air feels when shooting skin at close range.

Her nails dug into the carpet fibers as she was dragged back. “Agghhh! What the—Getitoff!”

As soon as the pulling stopped, Honey was on her back again, gazing up at the sharp lines of Peter’s cold gaze. He towered over her, even on his knees, as he mounted her hips. Protesting, she pelted him tirelessly with her fists.

The smell of sweat loomed in the air as he finally restrained her. He caged her in, pinning her wrists to the floor. Nerves buzzing and tempers flaring, she continued to writhe and wrestle with him to no avail. Peter quickly overpowered the more petite woman, fomenting her anger.

“You’re hurting me!” she sneered breathlessly, teeth gritted.

Peter was unimpressed. “Liar.”

“M’not lying—!”

He glared back, barely breaking a sweat. “You’re so full of shit—!”

“Fuck you! What do you know—?”

“I know you, Honey!” he charged, silencing her.

She went still, subdued beneath his dark gaze. Peter loomed over her like a stormcloud. “I know the games you like to play,” he said—both teasing and sinister, toying with his prey. He lowered his lips until they breathed the same air.

Honey’s focus was split between Peter’s intense stare and glistening, kiss-ravaged mouth. She tried not to notice the sensation of her nipples brushing against the fabric with each labored breath. He could easily reach down and touch her. Tried not to focus on how solid his chest felt against hers, like carved marble. Tried not to focus on the dark chocolate of his eyes melting in the heat of their gaze.

Just as intensely, Peter watched her watch him—zeroing in on the idle way her tongue darted to wet her lips. The tiny action shot electricity down his spine, straight to his groin.

Honey felt that, too. A tiny gasp escaped her, her lashes fluttering. The fight suddenly left her arms as she noticed the heavy bulge against her hip.

He was hot. Not just figuratively. Feverishly hot. He was so hard, too—and just for her. The lewd image of him splitting her open on his cock made her insides clench.

Peter eyed her dangerously, his voice a dark abyss. “Think you can hide it from me, eh?” The teasing smile on his lips bordered on a snarl. “Gonna sit here an’tell me... that if I were to reach down between your legs right now...” Her heart hammered in her chest, hanging on every word. In her mind, she was begging him to follow through with the threat. “...Those panties won’t be soaked?”

Honey failed to swallow back a little mewl as he leaned down closer.

“Ya think I can’t feel ya, huh?” he mumbled, lips ghosting the curve of her throat. “Think I can’t smell how wet you are right now?” Another wanton exhale left her belly as she leaned into the heat of his breath on her skin. “Y’know I can already taste you on my tongue, babygirl.”

Honey’s mouth and legs seemed to part further at his vulgar words. She shivered at the sensation of his slick tongue traversing her pulse point.

“You’re... an asshole...” she murmured breathlessly. She sounded half-asleep.

Peter hissed, “And you’re a needy little slut, aren't’cha?”

The sudden ferocity made her eyes unintentionally roll back. A second later, Peter’s fingers collared her, choking off the small mewl in her throat. He turned her by the chin, wrenching her attention to him.

“Hey—Eyes on me,” he commanded.

Mesmerized, Honey blinked up at him like a fawn.

“How ‘bout that little stunt you pulled with the waiter?” he prodded. There was an icy edge on the last word. Her throat bobbed while she kept her face neutral. The bright amber of his glare penetrated her. Peter continued accusatorily, “Those flirty little giggles while he gave ya fuck-me eyes? Y’think I didn’t see that?”

Honey sniffed, stiffening her upper lip. This was a power move; she knew better than to back down. “Look who's jealous,” she scoffed.

With a jolt, she again attempted to wrench her wrists free. He simply held on tighter, closing his talons as she twisted like a snake.

“Jealous?” Peter repeated calmly, narrowing his eyes into slits. “Me? Nah.” His hands suddenly seized her hips as he forcibly jerked her up off the floor. A slew of profanities spilled from her mouth, bucking against him as he carried her.

In a few strides, he was at the edge of a dining table. With little regard for his barbarity, he plopped Honey on the surface, shoving her flat on her back. Peter arched over her as if to dominate her, spine bowing until he filled her periphery with his fierce gaze.

Honey’s eyes sparkled, cheeks colored from the rush. “Threatened, then!”

Peter’s face softened inexplicably. Blinked at her for a moment, head tilting. Then, he landed an open-palmed smack against her ass.

It was a surprisingly heavy blow, as close as he’d ever come to intentionally inflicting pain on her. Honey yelped, hissing from the sting on her upper thigh. Right after the strike, Peter’s fingers began kneading her flesh, soothing the welt that was bound to form.

“See, if I were a jealous man,” he noted with an evil sneer, “I woulda gouged his eyes out with a salad fork.”

Peter swallowed up her gasp with a forceful kiss. A few moments later, he broke away.

“If I felt threatened?” he added breathlessly, “I woulda bent you over the table and fucked you dumb. Let everyone in the Five Boroughs hear you beg for my cock.”

Once the filth rolled off his tongue, Peter went back to using it to lash against hers. Honey was overwhelmed by the soft, wet muscle invading her mouth. Not only that, the violent edge to his words felt like standing in a river and grabbing a livewire. A shiver racked through her body, a current of pent-up anger and desire sending blood rushing to her core.

As if on cue, Peter’s fingertips made contact with the lace fabric between her thighs. She tremored at his touch, heart skipping. He toyed with the soft, stretchy material. Snapped it lazily against her flesh.

His voice was hypnotizing. “I woulda shoved these dirty panties down his throat just to never hear his stupid fuckin’ accent again.”

Honey felt drunk off of the vitriol he poured into her ear. It was violent and possessive... and it shouldn’t have made her so horny, and yet—

Honey trembled with anticipation, panting like a bitch in heat. “I-I... can’t... ugh, fu—”

The pads of his fingers ran firmly along her seam. She let out an embarrassing whine. Peter's prediction was spot-on. A shameful amount of wetness coated the inside of her thighs. He played with the soaked fabric and smeared her mess across her skin with a smug smirk.

“Think I don’t know what you like?” he muttered darkly, echoing her earlier jab.

RIP!

The lace bunched at her waist. Honey’s wet skin felt particularly chilled being exposed to the air. She quivered with anticipation. Her head was spinning, pussy throbbing. She felt worshiped and simultaneously defiled.

Peter pressed his forehead into hers, skin-to-skin. She stared into the black of his eyes in suspended silence, like the pornographic thoughts in his head were being projected into her mind.

Her own pupils were blown black. “Fuckin’ hate you so much—”

“I don’t care.”

“—re’such an asshole—”

“I don’t care,” he repeated more firmly. Then, “You belong with me.”

“You left me!” she fired back.

The sharpness of her tone sobered him a little. He blinked and sighed. “I couldn’t leave you. I didn’t leave you.”

She attempted to sit up, trying to lift her shoulders unsuccessfully. She writhed with spite, “Fuckin’ selfish prick, I outta cut off—”

“What was my drink order?”

He blurted the last sentence out with a mind-blowing level of calm. At once, their bodies went still. Still pinned to the table with a hummingbird beneath her breast, Honey stared up at him in confusion.

Her brows pinched together. “Huh—?”

“My drink order,” Peter repeated, his expression void of the aggression he had the previous moment.

It was like a mask had fallen away, and the man on top of her transformed into a different person. Maliciousness evaporated, replaced by eagerness. Desperation.

Peter stared at her, intently searching her gaze. “At the shop,” he whispered, eyes soft. “What you used to make for me every time I came t’see you..?” The words fell away as he stared at her expectantly.

She arched a brow.

It had been black coffee, bitter and dark. Just like Peter’s entire world. How it had always been. Until—

“You said I should try something new,” he added, with urgency like reminding her of a forgotten dream. “So you made something for me—something... special.”

Peter’s heart swelled through his eyes at the last word. Honey stared up at him, perplexed. He was looking for the answer on the tip of her tongue:

Honey and Lavender.

Confusion ceded to aggravation. A line formed between Honey’s brows.

“You remember, right?” he asked, hopeful.

She did. He knew she did. He could see it at the corners of her eyes, pooling behind her eyelids. Sobering memories flooded her, cooling the heat between them. A different sort of ache settled in.

Reluctantly, she nodded.

He took a breath, relieved but still anxious. “Say those words,” he said, “if you really want me to stop.”

Her damp lashes fluttered as Honey blinked up at him in surprise. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, he swallowed dryly. His stomach lurched at the thought of being sent away like this.

Still, it was a risk he had to take.

“I can let go, walk away,” he offered tenderly. “Right now. No questions asked.” Each word felt like sticking needles through his tongue. He gave her an out, needing confirmation that her reciprocated lust wasn’t imagined.

“Say the words,” Peter whispered in lament, “and I’ll leave you alone.”

That word settled like a boulder crushing his chest.

Despite Peter’s heart telling him her rejection would be unbearable, the thought of truly harming her was more so.

Honey studied him with thoughtful eyes, contemplative and curious. He had won. He subdued her. Restrained her. She remembered when he threw a piano like a toddler throwing a toy truck.

She could do little to stop him if he wanted to force her. And yet—

There he is.

This was the man she remembered. The one that was ready to die for her. To die by her hand, if that’s what she wanted.

“Two words,” Peter sighed, his nose brushing against hers. It was a sweetly affectionate gesture. “Say the words, and this can end right n—”

Honey captured his lips, stealing his breath like it was her only source of oxygen. Static filled Peter’s ears, his body tensing and relaxing simultaneously. He was soaring and plummeting. Rising and falling.

Her tongue slipped past his lips, dragging along the pad of his mouth. Soon enough, the sweetness melted off in their flames.

Honey pulled her mouth away, barely able to get out her plea. “Touch me, Peter. Make me feel it.”

And she dove right back in. This time, Peter plunged with her, deep beneath the waves of lust. He sank into her current, dragging her with the tide of desire.

Peter’s hands were frantic travelers. Flitting from her wrists to her shoulders. To gently cup her face. To smooth over the mounds of her breasts. To dig his fingers into the linen fabric of the sweetheart neckline.

“Love this dress,” he idly mumbled between kisses, abusing the neckline. “Mmm—where’d ya say ya got it?”

“Oh…uhm—?”

The question caught her off guard. She blushed, brain foggy with lust. Her instinct was to say something like ‘thank you,’ but her tongue fumbled the words. “Uh... it was, I think, Old Navy—?”

A ripping sound shocked her. She squeaked as a flurry of cotton fibers burst from the top of the dress.

Peter yanked the linen bodice apart like tissue paper, his tongue chasing away any protest from her lips. Gooseflesh broke out as her skin was exposed to the air. Driven by lust, he shoved the ruined material down to her waist.

“Fuck, Peter...” she gasped, scandalized.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not sorry.

It was his turn to be greedy. Peter dug his hands beneath the cups of her bra, toying with the peaks of her breasts.

With a snap, the bra was torn in half. The strength in Peter’s long fingers stunned her. Puzzling her as much as it turned her on.

He laved at her left breast with his tongue, drawing an obscene moan from her. His hand pinched sadistically at her right nipple. The delectable sting traveled from her chest to her cunt. She arched—”ughhh, god”—her spine bowing beautifully.

He held the cleft of her left breast delicately in his hand while lapping at the ridges of her peaked flesh. Warm tongue caressed the tip, drawing shapes and discovering pathways to her pleasure. Every little flick inspired something new. She cooed and twitched beneath him. He was desperate to memorize her taste.

Languidly, he massaged each of her tits inside his mouth, his cock aching as he imagined licking her pussy with the same fervor. It was almost unbearable. A strangled moan vibrated through his chest at the picture in his mind.

Her reaction to the sound came out as an agonized mewl.

Oh.

He needed more of that sound.

Peter felt her push on his shoulders. Trying to wriggle away from his mouth.

This time, he had no tolerance for misbehavior. He grabbed both wrists and forced them above her head. Honey yanked back, stunned at being glued down to the table surface by his palms.

The peach of his pouty lips curved upward as his eyes took a turn ravishing her. She was a sight of wicked debauchery. Her hair was a mess, and her nearly-naked body lay across the table like a feast. Her thighs locked around his hips.

He used one hand to rub circles into the delicate skin of her restrained forearms. The other hand mischievously dipped lower and lower, sliding through her wet heat. Calloused, dexterous fingers spread her lips open, playing in her slick and prodding her tight hole.

Honey was finished. Ruined. Past the point of no return. Unconditionally surrendered. Helpless and eager to subjugate herself to her conqueror. Filthy sounds filled the room, punctuated by weak cries from his new loyal subject.

“So pretty,” he sighed breathlessly as he coated his fingers in her cream. “All this for me, princess?” He cooed at her, edging on cruel.

A broken gasp fell from her lips, her chest pulsing involuntarily.

“Aww, what’s the matter? Does this little pretty pussy ache, baby?”

A vortex formed deep in her belly, dragging her in. He licked his dry lips, salivating at the image.

“I know it hurts, baby, I know. I know,” he teased. “It’s been hard playin’ all by yourself, huh?” The sunniness of his voice was eclipsed. “All alone. Screamin’ out my name into your pillow. Fingers buried deep in your wet cunt.”

Honey’s eyes snapped open. Before she could respond, the breadth of his middle fingertip penetrated her. She gasped as his finger speared her open. All the while, he wore a devil’s smile.

“Ain’t that right? Only for me.” Entranced, he watched her every twitch and shudder. “This pussy belongs to me, doesn’t it?”

It was a question feigning the need for her confirmation. She couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe.

No, that can’t be right—had he been watching her masturbate in her apartment? Was he watching her the entire time he was gone?

The possibility enraged her. Ten orgasms from the King of New York’s Underworld couldn’t even quell that fire.

Peter smiled wickedly, playing with her pussy. Taking his time toying with her flesh. He was a tyrant-king, dominating her pleasure. With a calloused hand, he held onto her cunt like it belonged there.

But she was his wild colt. Difficult to break.

“Oh-n—ohh god,” she gasped. Unbeknownst to him, an evil plot bloomed in her brain. Her lips curled into a smile.

“Fuck—gah—ohhhhh…”

He licked up each broken syllable.

“Yes! Oh, god, yes! Oh—”

Sweat beaded on her chest, sin oozing through her pores.

“...Pedro.”

Halt.

Brakes squealing. Full stop. Not only in the physical world between them but also in Peter’s living fantasy.

Mischievously, Honey’s grin widened.

She got him, alright.

Flawless victory.

Dark eyes flashing, Peter withdrew his fingers from her. “Fuckin’ brat…”

In one fluid motion, Peter flipped her over to her belly, stunning her. He followed with another forceful slap to her ass cheek. This one was more punishing than the last, drawing a puppy-like yelp. His voice was ice. Eyes black.

Now, she was in trouble.

“Think that’s funny?” he said through gritted teeth.

Peter manipulated her limbs like a rag doll. He maneuvered her forward until her cheekbone pressed against the table. She panicked for a moment at being in such a compromising position.

The chill of the air across her wet pussy made her shiver. At the same time, she clenched at his roughness.

Peter kneaded her sides, pressing fingerprint bruises on her waist. He yanked her hips towards him until her knees were on the table’s edge. Honey’s face burned, stricken with modesty and flustered by how he hoisted her ass in the air.

Her hips were propped up like a rack of lamb, and he licked his lips at the sight. It was too vulnerable, being bared to him like this. Obscene, on display, inches from his face.

For a half second, she considered using the safe words.

She squirmed uncomfortably while her mess dripped down the inside of her thighs. Peter denied any attempt to escape, eventually gathering her limbs and pulling her hands behind her back.

Short puffs of breath fogged the glass surface of the table. Her heart pounded beneath her. Honey had only witnessed this side of him a few times—and never directed toward her.

She was in trouble. But was she in danger?

The buckle of his belt clinked as it came free. Honey quivered at the sound, pussy aching in anticipation.

And if she was in danger, why did that make her wet?

“Pete—” Honey muttered, a scream bubbling at the back of her throat. Leather nipped at her forearms as he used his belt to tie her hands behind her back.

“Ple-please—“

He fisted her hair, rearing her head back. Her neck arched beautifully, her chin dangling above the table surface.

“Listen to me, princess,” Peter snarled, hot in her ear. Spite peppered his tone. “If you ever call out another man’s name when I’m inside ya again— I’ll make ya wear nothin’ but my cum for the next week.”

The savage tone contrasted with the glow of his eyes.

It was always opposites with him.

This was the same man who coddled and worshiped her. The same one who kidnapped her, drugged her, blindfolded her, and gagged her.

He forced her, a willing participant, into his bed—by asking her permission.

Peter was more than capable of keeping her chained to his bedpost if he wanted it.

Or… if she wanted it.

Peter snickered at her expression. “Ooh, yeah… Betchu’d like that, huh?” He taunted her like she was broadcasting her dirty thoughts. “Such a needy little slut for me, ain't that right?”

Honey felt his warmth leave her back, like being plunged into the Hudson in winter. His hands reappeared at the back of her thighs, and her first instinct was to try to close her legs.

That was a mistake and an impossible endeavor.

He split her thighs like opening a book. Grinned at the sight as if he stumbled across gold.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re soaked. Just talkin’ about it and look at the mess you made…”

Embarrassment and want ravaged her. The conflicting experiences had her ovaries twisted into knots. Honey bit her tongue, unsure if she was going to scream or moan.

Instead, it came out like a pathetic mewl. “Pe-Peter, please—”

Then he open-palm-smacked her cunt, fingers landing directly on her labia.

The wet sound it made was humiliating, and the sensation triggered all of the reactions above. She squealed at the sting on her folds. This was a delectable torture. For Peter, it was an appetizing sight.

“Ya like that?” he grinned over the sound of her whimpers. He already knew the answer.

Another slap to her cunt made her whole body shake.

“Like bein’ my kept girl? Tryin’ so hard to get my attention. Drivin’ me nuts. Well, you got it now, Honey.”

Slap.

A third strike had her pussy clenching. Honey had never experienced such an erotic rush before. She shuddered with embarrassment, afraid she’d cum from this—

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Honey gasped for air, a scream breaking through her voice. She was drowning in sick pleasure, tears in her eyes.

The mob boss gripped her thighs again, pulling her knees off the table and lifting up the weight of her lower half. The action was as easy as lifting a sheet of paper.

God, his strength was impossible. She struggled to comprehend it while picturing herself being broken apart by it. A slew of tiny pleas fell from her lips. She didn’t even know what she was begging for—his mercy or punishment.

“Shh, shh, babygirl,” he purred with a candy voice. Brought his lips to where she was split, equal parts seductive and sinister. “Be still for me. I gotcha.” He wore a Cheshire grin. “Lemme kiss it better.”

Slowly, he licked a line from her clit to the entrance of her cunt. She shuddered, followed by a lewd wail. She bucked her hips as he let the tip of his tongue toy with her.

“Mmmf—so fuckin’ sweet,” Peter mumbled between languid strokes around her vaginal gate. His grip was inescapable. “Can’t help myself, s-sooo hungry…”

Honey felt an evil smile against her skin before his mouth went back to work on her. Tiny, stinging nips and kitten licks tormented her flesh. With her hips locked in place, he lashed her clit with his tongue.

Honey squirmed against the leather belt, her nails digging into the grain. She wanted to be bound like this forever.

Peter had no intention of letting her go any time soon.

With her thighs spread open, he dragged her toward the edge of her ecstasy. As soon as he felt her body begin to shake, he pulled away. The punishment ended with another smack to her swollen clit.

Honey cried out in frustration at having her release snatched away.

Oh, yes—He was weak for that sound.

“What’s’a matter, baby?” he smirked with a dark chuckle. This was becoming his favorite pastime. “You mad now that you’re not the only one who can play games?”

“Gahh—Peter… fuck, plea—don’t tease—!”

Peter’s fingers slipped inside with a squelch, shutting her up. Simultaneously, he lapped at her juices while massaging her walls. Soon, he settled into an unbreakable focus.

Each kiss to her nether lips sizzled with passion. Fueled by devotion usually only reserved for a wedding day.

“—mmmm, tastes so pretty,” he murmured into her flesh, “my pretty girls...”

In her dazed state, Honey wondered with a pang of jealousy who the ‘she’ he was referring to was.

“—sooo sensitive; she likes it when I kiss her like that, yeah?—” He said, in between languid, open-mouth kisses to her slit.

Jesus Fucking Christ, he’s talking about my pussy? In the third person?

Honey gasped, scandalized at the preposterous thought. It was the most deliciously erotic moment of her life. Enraptured tears budded her eyes, the coil in her belly nearly suffocating her.

“—Fuck, oh god, Peter, don’t stop, don’stop, donstop, donstah—”

Preoccupied with his own intoxicating thoughts, Peter was eager with his tongue and steady with his hands. The room filled with the filthy, wet sounds of his carressing and French kissing of her cunt. He pleasured her with his fingers and mouth, passionately— reverently— as if making love to two different brides.

Soon, Honey’s pleas were barely more than breathless whining. He smiled like the devil, lips coated with her slick.

“Patience, Honey,” he admonished, sing-song and patronizing. “If you’re a good girl, maybe I might let you get to taste Her, too.”

Fuck—she was going to come from this.

The more perverse his words were, the closer she was. So, so close—

Then, another sharp slap.

Honey wailed, fingers digging into the leather of her restraints. Her whole body protested. The cycle repeated so many times she lost count—until her flesh was puffy from his torture.

“Please, don’t—please, Peter, don’t tease,” she frantically begged, tears streaming. “No more— Please, I wanna come so bad—”

He sucked on her clit. “Yeah?”

“God, yes, please—Nyahhh-need you—Need you... inside—“

Peter hissed behind his teeth, struggling to keep his pace even as his cock jerked at her pleas. He flashed an evil smile. “S’at right?”

“Pl-please, f-feels so good, ple—gah-I need it—!”

He was in no hurry. It was almost greedy, the way he ravaged her. His fingers pressed Merlot bruises into her hips and waist while his mouth left raspberry welts on her thighs.

Honey cried out around a moan as she felt his fingers deepen. His loving touches to her sensitive spots turned wicked, reminding her this was also a penalty for her bratty transgressions. She wept and squirmed, practically drooling on the table.

He simply grinned.

“—Mmmhm, that’s it—scream for me, princess—”

Honey’s tiny little hip thrusts fit easily in his palm as he groped her. He found it adorable, really.

“Mmm...m’sorr—ow—agh!”

“Sorry’s not gonna cut it,” he panted, eyes blown black. Shadow returned to his voice. “You’re mine now, ya hear?” His eyes traveled to where his fingers were buried to the knuckles. “Gonna fuck you every way I want—”

“Pleasepleasepleaseyes—it’syoursit’syoursallyours—”

His eyes swam over her body, drunk with lust.

All mine.

The sinfulness of his thoughts tugged his insides into a vortex. This was wrong, he reasoned. Not how he wanted this to go. Poor girl sounded brainless, begging to be fucked. He wasn’t much better off. This wasn’t how he planned this to go.

But he was willing to pivot.

Hands shaking, he fumbled with his fly. It wasn’t until his cock bobbed free, glistening with precum, that he felt any sort of relief. Peter grabbed her hips and lifted them off of the table, repositioning her so he was lined up with her slit.

“Fuckin’ need you so much, Honey—” he muttered mindlessly, focused on pushing the swollen, leaking crown of his cock against the silk of her pussy.

Her hips’ weight rested easily in his hands, and she keened at the sensation of his head pressing against her entrance.

And god, she'd forgotten he was thick.

Honey tensed up, even as her pussy throbbed with want. It was as if all her muscles were reaching for him, heart included.

It was too much. Mascara trailed faintly down her cheeks. Her heart soared. And ached. She felt spoiled with pleasure, delighting in this penance.

More. She wanted more.

“Fuck—wanted ya so bad,” Peter mumbled, watching his cock slip through her lips. He sounded airy, hypnotized by the view. “Wanted t’crawl through your window like the goddamn—ahh— boogeyman... fuck ya in your own bed. Wanted t’take’ya home with me and keep ya there— Never let you leave.”

Honey swallowed back a sob. Then why did you send me away?

He paused.

Uh-oh. Did she say that out lo—?

“Because I’m an idiot,” Peter huffed, his voice fragile.

He leaned forward and lovingly kissed up her spine, each tender press of his lips an apology.

“I’m a stupid fuckin’ fool.” The heat of his breath ghosted across her back. “So stupid—Thought I could protect ya if I kept you away. Thought I could somehow live like that—without you.” He shook his head. “Goddamn fool.”

Peter felt the sting of tears flooding his vision. Instinctively, he squeezed his eyes shut to keep them out. “I can’t live without ya,” he nearly whimpered. “There is no life for me if you’re not in it.”

“Peter,” she said, feeling her heart lurch. Her spirit was a ship being tossed in a hurricane. One more wave, and she would break. Honey’s voice trembled, “St-stop t-talking—”

“Not until I’ve said what I shoulda said—!”

“If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next five seconds—”

Peter cut her off by pulling her up by the shoulders and standing her upright. Honey fought it—because, of course, she did—desperately clutching the steel armor around her heart.

Overpowering her again, he tugged the naked woman closer until her back lined up to his chest. It was an awkward position with her bound arms crushed behind her against his abs. He towered over her, eyeing her face from the side, seeking her gaze. Hooked a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye.

Always the fighter, Honey tried to wrench herself from his hold. Peter’s body was like a Greek god’s, with pillar-like arms and marble fingers keeping her from wriggling away. But his soft, soulful eyes are what pinned her in place.

As soon as she peered into their oaken color, she was trapped again.

“No,” she sneered, shaking her head. The tears weren’t from pleasure anymore. “Don’t—”

“‘Honey and Lavender,’” he whispered, featherlike. “Those are the words. All you gotta do is say ‘em, and I’ll stop.”

She gritted her teeth, bucking against his sweetness. His arms wrapped around her torso, pulling her in.

“I thought you wanted to fuck me!” she revolted, voice getting weaker by the second. “What the hell do you want from me, Peter?!”

His features softened. Serenity pressed between his lips. “I want all of you, Honey,” he answered with resolve. “Body and soul. Wanna spend the rest of my life with ya. If you don’t kill me first.”

He said the ‘if’ part with a teasing lilt in his tone and a half-smile. The same smirk that she loathed—and fell in love with.

Honey squeezed her eyes shut. Peter’s thumb came up gently, wiping a messy tear from her cheek. That loving and pure act was worse than any torture he could inflict.

Walls tumbling down, her body loosened. She went slack against his arms, instead fighting to keep more tears from flowing.

“I love you,” he whispered, pouring his soul into each word. “Forever. Remember? No matter what.”

Peter waited for her eyelids to peel back, revealing glossy eyes and a weary expression. They stayed still for eons. Nothing but their breaths and heartbeats between them, eyes locked on each other.

“Even if you’re mad as hell at me,” he added. “Even if you hate me—I want it all.”

Her lower lip wobbled. “And what then, Peter? What now?”

A moment passed. He leaned around her shoulder, bringing her chin close, and answered her with a kiss. Gentle at first, his tongue explored hers as she relaxed against him. She felt her toes leave the ground before she realized what was happening.

Peter broke the kiss. “Now?” he breathed into her hairline. “I’m gonna show you what it means to be mine.”

One of his hands left her torso—borrowed to push the head of his cock into her gate. An overwhelming burn erupted between her legs. She arched her back away from his abs as best she could while being split open.

Honey wailed brokenly, voice shattered, as he bottomed out. Peter’s hand instinctively came up to cover her mouth. She let the scream out into his palm, just as he’d promised.

Peter hissed, letting his head fall back in agonized ecstasy. His eyes drifted shut, feeling both relief and torment buried to the hilt in her warmth.

He barely ground out, “Shh-shhh, s’alright... that’s it, s-so good, so good for me...”

His Honey was already writhing on his cock, and he hadn’t even begun to move. She was so goddamn tight he wasn’t sure he wanted to move at all.

Still, he couldn’t help indulging himself. Never could, around her.

The arm bracing Honey’s torso snaked back across her body. His hand, burning hotter than a branding iron, stretched out and smoothed over the curvature of her belly. Her pussy clenched tighter as his palm found the trophy he was looking for—an obscene bulge in her lower stomach.

A slow, sinful curve played upon his lips. “Fuck, babygirl. Look at you.” When he uncovered her mouth, her roars had quieted down to a wanton purr. He gently tilted her head downwards so she could witness the depravity herself. “Just look at how you take my dick, Honey.”

She shuddered at the sight, nodding rapidly, unable to speak. She wondered if this was just more teasing, but she couldn’t think beyond the penetration.

“God, you look so beautiful like that,” he muttered breathlessly. His amber eyes were fixated on the sinful spectacle beneath her waist, unable to avert his gaze. “So pretty with my cock stuffed up inside your tummy...”

Peter sounded unhinged, even to himself. His abs twisted into knots. Vile, perverse images eclipsed his sense of decency—her body naked and wrecked, with his seed spilling from her holes. Then, her belly round with his children. Just the thought devolved him like his civilized nature was sucked back into a black hole.

Wordless whimpers poured from her lips as her taut muscles succumbed to his girth. Calloused fingertips reached further down, brushing against the hood of her clit. She jolted in his arms with the slightest touch.

At that moment, Honey’s world disappeared. Nothing existed but the exquisite ache between her legs.

The conquerer inside him preened. “Is that the spot? Is that where it hurts, baby?” he purred into her ear with a filthy, predatory voice. Her body answered him, rewarding him with a delicious squeeze around his shaft. “That’s it,” Peter groaned, insatiable. “Good girl. So good for me.”

His praise, even if it was teasing, was too much. Peter’s affirmations, paired with his ministrations, tightened the coil in her stomach. Exhaustion crept up on her body even as the bubble of desire swelled.

Ever so slowly, his hips pitched back and then forward. He bottomed out again at the end of the languid stroke. A shattered mewl burst from her lips, pussy pulsating around his dick.

She was magnificent.

”Fuck, baby. Feels s-so fuckin’ good—ahh, I missed this tight pussy so much. Wanted to play with her so bad…”

Peter’s hips moved of their own accord. They were a pornographic masterpiece in the decorative mirrors situated around the room. He stole a greedy glance at the couple’s reflection. Smiling wickedly, he turned her head, making her see what he was seeing.

Honey’s stomach fluttered at the sight of her body—glistening and restrained—slotted against him. Her head bobbed as Peter gripped her hips and fucked into her like a sex doll.

Perverse. Debauched. Divine. It made her lightheaded.

Slowly, he increased the pace of his thrusts, panting into her ear. At some point, she started muttering. Broken and embarrassingly desperate pleas and pet names tumbled unwittingly out of her mouth.

One of them must have caught his attention. But she honestly couldn’t remember what she had said.

“Ugh—I lose my fuckin’ mind when you call me that name,” he growled, throwing his head back. “Ya know that, precious? Such a good girl for me. Good girls get spoiled.”

Honey’s body thrummed at his baby talk. In all its depravity, she started to suspect what she must have said in all its depravity. Slowly, she was losing the ability to be ashamed.

The slick-coated pad of Peter’s thumb circled her clit, before traveling down further. He curiously prodded where they were joined—“Fuck, look at how good ya open up for me.” — His fingers trailed the outline of her stretched hymen wrapped around his cock.

Honey closed her eyes and turned away, blushing from his praise. Timid about how she relished in the filth. Peter brought his lips to her ear as if there was a secret the two of them shared.

“Don’t worry, baby. I gotcha—Daddy’s gonna make the ache go away.”

The spring snapped. She was nearly knocked over by the wave of pleasure that followed. Her pussy fluttered around his cock with no warning, body trembling and toes curling. Her cream gushed down his shaft.

He snickered as if he’d won a prize.

Honey could vaguely recognize her pathetic voice through the bells in her ears. She squealed and cried out over his repetitive, patronizing chants — “Awwgoodgirl, fuckin’ so-so perfect— squeezin’ me so tight” — while he fucked her through her orgasm.

It felt like several moments of pure pink haze, herself a willing victim to his delicious, relentless pull.

“Shit, sweetie, did you just come all over my cock?” he asked, exasperated.

Embarrassment flooded her despite her persistent mewling.

“Don’t cry, baby. Don’chu worry,” he murmured affectionately, himself obsessed with the cavern of her divine flesh. “When I said I was gonna make you my toy, I meant it.” She whimpered, nodding her head as it rested back against his shoulder. “M’not finished with you,” he said, dropping an octave. “Not by a long shot.”

Time ceased to have true meaning. Peter rammed into her steadily.

“Please don’stop, please use me, please, wan’more—” She yelped like a puppy.

He smiled against her sweaty skin. “Yeah? Ya like bein’ a good girl? My good girl?”

“I’llbegoodI’llbegoodm’yours—fuck—yoursyoursyours—”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he groaned, with another curse beneath his breath. Eyes drifted shut. “Good, good girl.”

All he could think of was more.

More of that sound. More of her juices. More of her staccato breaths as he fucked her tits into a steady bounce on her chest. More of her whining, whimpering like a bitch in heat.

“All mine, all mine…”

Peter needed more of her. He needed to watch her fall apart on his cock again. Honey was so close already; he could feel it. He’d give her another orgasm, one that leaves her in tears. Then another. He was going to fuck her into submission atop the throne he built for her. She was already his queen.

Then—He’d make her his whore.

Flip her on her back against the table—or couch— countertop—fuck, maybe the bed if he could remember where it was. Whatever he could reach first.

Then he’d split her open again on his cock. That way, he could see the enraptured awe on her face. The neediness. Big, round, wet eyes pleading for his touch, calling him filthy names, as his cock bulges below her pubic bone. Begging him to rearrange her guts.

It was heavenly to witness. Peter loved watching her come. And he would, over and over. Once he relocated her to his bed—as soon as he remembered where it was— he could tie her to it.

Not that Honey was fighting at the present. There was no fight in her body, except maybe the will to keep conscious. With every strike against her cervix, she spread herself wider for him.

But Peter knew she would like it. Honey wanted his unforgiving ecstasy. To take out the mounting frustration of the last few months on her wet pussy.

“M’gonna fuck you so good, babygirl, m’gonna use your body like my fucktoy—make me feel s-sogood, don’worry—“

Honey full-body shuddered with a sob, her head thrown back against his shoulder.

“S’okay, baby, you can scream if y’want, makes it feel better, doesn’t it, huh—”

Cock-drunk, she nodded, her words coming out as puffs of air.

“Don’stop—don’stop—please, fuck— fuckmehardDaddyIneedit—“

Oh.

More. Of. That.

“M’not lettin’ you get away again…” he muttered, voice emerging from beneath his twitching abdominal muscles. With possessed eyes, he was glued to where they joined. “Never—never gonna let you go again… All mine now, Honey—you’re all mine…”

Her arms came up to circle the back of his neck as she panted into his throat. “My-my pussy is yours…”

“Everything,” he corrected.

“Everythi—god—I’m yours, Pete—ahh!”

Peter was getting close. No matter. He’d let himself come inside her soon. There was plenty more to follow.

He barely recognized his own wrecked voice. “’m not leavin,’ baby. I’m not leavin’ ever.”

A gust of wind followed him as the front door to the suite slammed shut. Peter stood alone in the hotel hallway wearing a sheen of sweat... and nothing else.

He flushed pink, fumbling to cover himself behind his hands. The cool air made the task easier.

Peter sighed. He’d need to talk to maintenance about better insulation up here.

But not right now. Not while Peter Parker stood ass-naked outside of his door, having been kicked out like a cheap fuck.

Which might have been Honey’s point, he recognized.

The evidence of their past hour together made his skin sticky. She’d tousled his hair and etched into his back with her nails. He felt sore in places he hadn’t felt in years.

Peter also looked thoroughly fucked. A mixture of pain and relief surged through his muscles. His brain was branded with erotic images of her. He wanted them there.

The door opened again, lifting his hopes. He only caught a fleeting glimpse of Honey, wrapped sloppily in a bathrobe. The rest of her didn’t look much better than Peter. She wore a sour yet adorable scowl on her face.

With a huff, Honey hurled a tight wad of fabric at his nuts, unintentionally intentional in her aim.

Peter oofed, doubling over to catch the ball of his clothes. At the same time, an Italian leather shoe smacked him in the head. Probably his Tom Ford’s. He heard the door slam closed again, rattling against the frame.

Perplexed, Peter gazed at the molding of the door and the gleaming golden script marking the room number.

He wondered.

Would she open the door again to throw him the other shoe?

Or perhaps the slacks that went along with the dress shirt covering his balls?

Unlikely.

He marveled.

Within the confines of his ruined dress shirt, Peter felt another buzz. He fumbled with the shirt, reaching the smartphone concealed inside.

>>> have you moved onto the main course? >>> or are you still tossing the salad? >>> pouring ranch on her hidden valley

Felicia. Peter’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head. With a sigh, he tapped out a reply.

<<< Kitchen’s closed. <<< Need clothes. And a new room.

He saw the ellipsis bubbling up on his screen.

<<< Not another word.

As soon as the message was sent, Peter took another glance at his empty surroundings. Haplessly, he looked toward the closed door. A river of memories flooded him. It surged, swelled, and finally, came to a low simmer.

This was never going to be easy. Nothing ever was with her.

Nothing worth waiting for ever is.

“See you at breakfast,” he whispered aloud lips curled into a smile. “Sleep tight.”

Holding her breath and her ear to the door, Honey waited until Peter’s footsteps faded. When she could no longer hear them, she sighed with exasperation, overcome with exhaustion. Eyes falling closed, Honey leaned back against the door, body aching in places she would feel for days.

After taking a moment, she heard a buzzing sound further in the suite. Honey jumped with alarm, then stumbled on Fawn’s feet to reach the source.

Quickly, Honey waddled to the remains of her yellow dress, fishing out the buzzing object: a 10-year-old smartphone with a black glittery hard case. A holographic cat sticker was fixed to the back, shimmering in the dim light.

Not just any cat.

She unlocked the phone to see the latest message.

>>> how’d it go? u give him hell?

The heaviest exhale left Honey’s chest, shame creeping up her chest. With her thumb, she scrolled up to review the text messages sent to her. The oldest of which dated back almost four months.

Weeks of correspondence and reassurance from Felicia, not to mention very clear instructions about Peter Parker and how to play his game.

There was the one from last month:

>>> don’t let him think for one second that you’re gonna let him get off easy!

Then one from last week:

>>> make him suffer. make him grovel. make him lay down in a puddle so you can cross

And these:

>>> go to dinner, but don’t eat anything. order wine, the most expensive one, take one sip and refuse the rest. you pick the restaurant. if he picks the restaurant, hate everything about it >>> play hard to get— but don’t be too cold >>> be flirty. but not slutty. >>> give him bedroom eyes, but don’t let him stare at you too long.

Finally, there was a clear instruction sent earlier today.

>>> under no circumstances >>> no matter what >>> you need to remember this >>> DO NOT FUCK HIM!!1

Honey frowned as she gazed at Felicia’s text message bubble, sent with so much hope and good intention. A notion soundly defeated. A truly hopeless endeavor, if there ever was one.

Biting her lip, Honey tapped out a reply to her confidant:

<<< Sure did.

Thank you for everything you do. Please keep fanfic healthy and support my writing with a reblog.

#fic recs #love on the brain

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ladyylesbian · 3 years ago

Text

always a reason (18+)

pairing: top!fem!reader x bottom!wanda maximoff

summary: reader and wanda seem to always end up in the same bed on the nights of tony’s parties. one evening when wanda becomes jealous, reader shows her that she has nothing to worry about, reader’s eyes are only focused on wanda.

warnings: MINORS DNI! daddy kink, smallest amount of playful violence, brief jealousy, alcohol mention, choking, pet names (princess, good girl, hun), degrading names (slut, whore, toy, brat), praise kink, degrading kink, nipple play, clit play, fingering, scratching

word count: 4063

a/n: sooooo i wanted to try my hand at a top!reader fic after my previous smut fic. honestly, i’m kinda proud of this fic, especially cause it's taken me over 5 weeks to actually get this finished. i really hope y’all enjoy and thank you for reading :))

you do not have permission to translate/repost my works anywhere! all mistakes are mine and mine alone. likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome & appreciated <3

GIF by @chrishemsworht

Tonight was home to another one of Tony Stark’s lavish parties which was giving you another chance to dress up and get that little red headed witch to drop to her knees again. You and Wanda had never put any kind of label on whatever relationship the two of you held. All either of you knew was you would always end up in the same bed the evening of a Stark party.

The thought of wearing something which would leave the Sokvian’s eyes glued to you all night had you forgoing the usual black floor length dress you would usually wear as you dig through your closet trying to find the new black suit you had just bought. Letting out a soft hum of satisfaction as you reach to grab ahold of the new, nicely pressed two piece laying it down on the black sheets covering your queen sized bed.

Stripping out of the sweat drenched clothes, you were wearing from your afternoon sparring match with Natasha, throwing them into the overflowing pile of dirty clothes around your hamper. Sighing loudly as the thought of needing to do your laundry re enters your mind for the fourth time this week before shaking your head to focus again on your plan to ruin Wanda tonight.

Going to turn the shower handle to the right towards the hot water as you quickly pull your hand back as the sound of water hitting the shower floor begins to fill the room. Turning around to face the mirror, you run your hands up your front cupping your breasts as you admire yourself before curling your fingers and dragging your hands back down as you leave light pink lines on your chest. Breathing in deeply as you admire the scratches wishing they were darker red lines across your back left by a certain Sokovian instead.

-------

The feeling of your cold, white silk bra against your breast has a shiver running up your spine as you sink into the soft memory foam mattress daydreaming about how the night could go. You were always anxious each night before a party wondering if maybe tonight was going to be the night the two of you wouldn’t fall into a perfect collision of kisses and tangled limbs during the early hours of the morning for the first time. Your mind is too busy running wild with what if’s that you don’t even acknowledge the soft knocks dancing across your bedroom door until a voice breaks through the silence.

“Hey. Are we-” The woman speaks before getting cut off.

“Holy shit, Natasha, you scared the fuck out of me!” You scream towards the Avenger who is now standing further into your room than you originally anticipated.

“Sorry. I just wanted to see if we were going to walk down to Stark’s party together tonight.” Nastasha says while looking around the room avoiding any direct eye contact after noticing the lack of a shirt on your body. “Also put a shirt on, the last thing I need to see is your ass shirtless outside of changing for missions.”

You could have sworn that with the intensity of your eye roll the spy should have been able to hear the movement. You reach over to the left and slide your arms into the sleeves of your suit jacket with a dramatic sigh leaving your mouth.

“How you are able to fake any kind of attraction to me on missions is beyond me, Romanoff.” You tease at the Russian.

The red head gives a fake laugh as a response before asking, “So-” dragging out the o sound, “You and Maximoff- is that going to happen again tonight? It would be..what the sixth time tonight?”

Even with all of your training to be an Avenger you were unable to hide your body tensing at the mention of the Sokivian’s last name. You try to swallow the lump in your throat before responding, “Uh- yeah, it would be. No big deal though, I mean we’re just hooking up.”

A loud roar of laughter broke out across the bedroom causing you to jump up from your bed. “No, I’m just hooking up with Maria. You are getting into a situationship with Wanda.” Quickly walking up behind the red head you wind your arm back to land a swift hit on her upper arm, but she quickly spins, her hand grabbing your wrist pulling you closer before you’re able to make any real distance in your attempt. A smile spreads across the assassin’s face at your attempt to hit her, “Oh, Y’N, you’ll have to train much more before you’ll be able to place that hit.”

The two of you, pressed close together, begin laughing at the exchange in a way so intentensely that it causes the both of you to lean into each other. After a few minutes, the laughter dies out as you look down to see Natasha’s hand is still around your wrist. In that very same moment, you notice a flash of flowing red hair outside your doorway.

Rushing to your door you glance down the hall to see Wanda rounding the corner faster than you’ve ever seen her move outside of training. The softness of her steps reminds you of the softness of her heart, which only worsens the retching in your heart at the thought of her somehow misinterpreting the interaction between you and Russian. With a firm thud your head lands on the doorframe. Your mind is panicking wondering if you’ve ruined everything until you’re cut from your thoughts by a swift smack to the back of your head, “You’re an idiot. Tell her tonight how you feel, Y/L/N.”

-------

The music is booming through the speakers so loudly that you can feel ringing in your ears and if you stand still long enough then you’ll feel the floors shaking underneath your feet. You’re sure that it’s been at least two hours and you still haven’t seen the red head you’ve been hoping to see this entire night.

Running your finger around the edge of glass holding the drink you’ve been nursing this entire evening. You had usually already finished a few drinks and started flirting with random agents by this hour, but instead your eyes were glued to the door.

Your night feels as if it’s moving in slow motion. Almost like a rainforest in a drought. You had not realized how much you enjoyed the games of playing for attention with the witch throughout the night. Seeing how many drinks you could send her way before eventually walking up behind her, whispering into her ear which always causes the red head to fall back into you ever so slightly.

Feeling a nudge on your arm knocks you out of your daydream. Turning to your left you see the Sokovian, your eyes widening.

“W-Wanda” you manage to get out after a moment of shock, “You’re here.”

The loud exhale coming from the witch doesn’t leave you with much confidence until her whispering words spill from her mouth, “You can kiss me, you know.”

A small smile comes from the red head as the statement causes you to freeze and then choke on the sip you had just taken of your drink. You finally regain your composure after a few seconds, unable to hide the smirk on your face. Turning to face the woman as you push your shoulders back. Looking down to find the green eyes housing the woman who has now shrunk back into her small frame.

“Took you long enough to get here, Maximoff.” Shifting your weight onto the bar as you lean on your arm, raising your eyebrow in a challenging manner.

Wanda lowers her gaze to the ground, trying to hide the red taking over her green eyes, as her voice shakes slightly, “Honestly, I wasn’t too sure if there was a reason to come.”

Your finger hooks onto the bottom of her chin before forcing eye contact between you two. With a deep inhale you use your free hand to push her red curls behind her ear, cupping her cheek as you run your thumb over the apple of her cheek. Arrogantly smirking as you brush against her ear, dropping your hand to wrap around her neck pressing down. “Oh dear, Daddy always has a reason for you to come.”

A soft pink blush starts to break over the Sokvian’s face as her eyes dart around the bar trying to see if anyone notices the sexual dispite the dark lighting. As she sees the bartender on the other end of the bar making a drink and the other party guests too enthralled by their own conversation to even throw a glance towards you two her heart rate begins to settle some. The witch swallows harshly as her green eyes find yours again.

“Let’s go, princess. You and I have plans to attend.” You say giving a final squeeze to her throat before grabbing her hand.

Walking along the walls of the room as you drag the red head behind you. The music slowly starts to get more and more muffled as you leave the room, rounding the corner you find yourself pinning Wanda up against the cold, steel wall. Looking into her green eyes as you bring your thigh up to separate her legs.

“Are you ready to be a good little whore for Daddy?” You say smirking as you run the side of your finger along the witch’s jaw.

Not missing the sharp but stifled inhale from the woman when you bring your hand up to scratch down her scalp with your blunt nails, tangling your fingers through her hair; yanking forcefully. You could have sworn you saw the lust wash over the Sokivian’s mind. Raking your eyes up and down the witches body reveling in the position you were able to put her in.

Holding back your own moans as you lean in further pressing Wanda into the wall. Your other hand runs up her outer thigh teasingly slow earning a low groan from the red head. With each inch your hand raises continues to hike up the tight, little red dress leaving goosebumps across her exposed skin.

Leaning your head down to leave a trail of soft kisses along the witch’s jaw stopping to occasionally nip at her skin. A smirk finds its way onto your face as you notice the rapid, uneven breathing from Wanda.

“I think we should take this somewhere private, hun.” Leaving a light kiss on her nose before stepping back and starting to walk towards your bedroom.

-------

A loud thud sounds out as your bedroom door is flung open and hits the wall. The pair of you fumbling into your room, desperate to finally have the Sokovian properly underneath you. Within a single moment you have the bedroom door shut yet again and the red head pushed flushed against the thick steel door.

Your mouth finds its spot on her neck as you suck and nip on the soft, pale skin. Pulling back occasionally to see the purplish blue bruises beginning to form before placing your lips back on to her neck. The sight alone has you groaning and the vibrations makes Wanda’s hips thrust forward into your own.

Placing one hand roughly onto her hip pushing her back against the door with a firm emotionless face as you look into her eyes, “A good slut doesn’t move unless being told.”

The Sokovian bites her lip successfully, holding in the moan begging to come out from hearing the degrading name, but she’s not able to stop herself from squeezing her thighs. Your hand feels the slight movement and drops from its place on the witch’s hip down her thigh. Curling your fingers up and under the red dress as you go to cup her cunt, lightly brushing your fingers against her underwear before pressing up when you find the wet patch.

“Is my little whore already leaking through her underwear?” You say smirking into her neck, biting down harshly then licking over the bite. Taking a few steps back to sit onto your bed sinking in slightly from the soft mattress, you look Wanda up and down slowly, “How about you give me a nice show as you take off that little dress?”

A deep blush takes over the Sokovian’s pale face once hearing your request. Nodding her head as she slowly turns around. Reaching her arm to the side to grab the zipper as she pulls downward letting the dress pile around her ankles. Your attention only stays on the dress for a second before focusing intensely on the black lace lingerie.

“Wait- That is new.” The smirk on your face is evident to the red head even with her back turned, ”Did you buy this new set just for me?”

With a small turn of her neck you see Wanda bite her lip before mumbling, “Black is Daddy’s favorite color, no?”

“Oh, hun, my favorite color on my favorite toy” Your tone filled with lust as you lick your lips. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, starting your playlist, before throwing your phone aside hoping you’d be able to help calm the nerves of the witch.

The music fills up the silence and the Sokovian begins to move her hips along to the music. Your eyes practically lock onto the black thong running down the center of her ass while her fingers lightly trace up her own body as her hips rock gracefully.

Once her hands reach the height of her bra her fingers reach back to unclasp the hooks. Holding onto the cups of her bra as she removed her arms from the straps, turning around as the music from the song builds up, dancing seductively before letting go and allowing the bra to fall onto the floor.

Even with every time you have seen the red head’s breasts previously it’s like seeing them again for the first time and you feel like a teenager all over again. You have to remind yourself to stay sitting down at the sight, but you don’t try to fight the smirk knowing it brings more confidence to Wanda.

With a slow curl of your finger, indicating your desire for her to walk towards you, the Sokovian walks closer with your eyes locked onto each other. When she reaches the spot directly in front of you, you stand up and grab onto the witch’s hips leaning forward to plant a hard kiss on her red lips.

Hooking your fingers into the waistband of her thong using the leverage to turn the two of you around. Kissing her once again before pushing her onto the bed by her hips earning a small shrink from the red head at the sudden action.

Towering over the woman as she lays on her back, “Daddy cannot wait for this meal.”

The sight below you has an avalanche of thoughts dirtier than the ground of the New York City subway coming into your mind. You knew you wanted to make the woman below you unravel and become putty in your hands, but who ever said you can’t have a bit of fun before that.

Softly dragging your hands up Wanda’s stomach before bringing them together to rest between her breasts, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps showing your path. The witch wiggling underneath you has you dying to just ram her into the mattress, but you have always preferred to take your time winding up the woman. Watching her beg to get the one thing she desires more than anything.

“Do you remember the rules?” you speak softly into her ear, biting down lightly.

Pulling back to see the Sokovian nod her head, mumbling, “Yes, Daddy.”

A quick “Good girl” comes from your mouth as your hands roughly pull the lace thong down her legs hearing the material rip. The sound earns a quick pout from the red head which only further stirs up the desire deep inside you to fuck her. Leaning up to plant a hard kiss on her lips, with the intent to smear the lipstick she had perfectly applied earlier in the night, pushing your tongue past the woman’s lips.

Your hands begin to wonder around the pale skin before landing on her breasts, mercilessly grabbing ahold of them as you massage. The action causes the witch to release a small moan into your mouth. Letting go slightly to readjust your grip so you’re able to roll your thumbs over her nipples, her back arching in pleasure from the stimulation.

Moving your hand so your mouth can take its place on her breast, twirling your tongue around the nub. Your mouth makes a pop sound releasing her nipple leaving it stiff from the attention.

Placing your mouth onto her other nipple as you drop her hand down to her stomach, teasing right where her underwear would be if you hadn’t ripped them off earlier. Her hips fighting to stay planted on the bed but the teasing movements of your fingers has the Sokovian teetering on the edge of complete submission.

“Such a good whore remembering the rules just so her Daddy will make her cum.” Your tone is filled with power and pride.

Dipping your hand further down as you run a singular finger through the woman’s folds. Collecting the wetness before bringing your hand up to her mouth, pushing your finger between her lips. The swirling of her tongue around your finger mixed with the innocent eyes she’s giving you has an uncontrollable groan coming from deep within your throat.

Your other hand gently petting her head in a downward motion, tangling your fingers in her hair then yanking back pulling her mouth off of your finger, “You got a taste of yourself, now it's Daddy’s turn.”

Bringing both of your hands to rest on Wanda’s knees, squeezing slightly before releasing your grip and pushing her legs apart. Your eyes drop immediately onto her cunt as it comes into your view, the smirk on your face widening.

Settling between the witch’s legs putting most of your weight on your forearms. Breathing lightly onto her pussy and pressing two of your fingers onto the wetness in front of you then spreading it all over light pink lips.

“Damn, hun, so wet and needy all for me.” Hearing the groans coming from above you has your eyes lifting up with an unamused expression, you snap, “Don’t be a brat.”

All you get in response is a whine and a head nod from the woman. Pleased enough with the agreement you place a long lick up her cunt. The taste was more pleasant than the fancy meals Tony had served earlier in the night.

Placing the tip of your tongue onto the red head’s clit leaving small kitten licks onto the bundle, humming with closed lips barely making contact. The red head’s hands reach forward to grab ahold of your hair, glancing up quickly, you raise your eyebrow and throw a warning look at her.

Pushing against her hands, moving your mouth further from where she wanted you, “Don’t get any ideas. You can touch, but it’s my pace.”

A barely audible gulp comes from her before she smiles, “Yes, Daddy. Your pace.” The submission from the powerful witch made you smile, but wasn’t something you took lightly or for granted.

Lowering your head back between the woman’s legs, you firmly attach your lips around her clit. Prodding your tongue against the bud before sucking harshly onto her clit. The Sokovian immediately curls upwards her breasts brushing against your head.

The slight movement brought your attention to her breasts causing you to release her clit. The lack of stimulation immediately caused a loud whine until you begin to suck on her nipples. Twirling your tongue around the bud a few times to distract Wanda before sliding a single finger through her fold then pushing in halfway.

Deep moans come from the red head while you purposely push in and out slowly to tease her. Pressing your finger up into her wall before sliding your finger out completely. Adding another finger and slipping the two back in, increasing your pace slightly.

Turning your head slightly to wrap your lips around the other nipple, your thumb reaches for the woman’s clit. Applying light circles onto her clit, her mouth falling open and head back from the contact.

Your hand raises up to the Sokovian’s neck softly holding on before quietly but firmly speaking, “Your eyes should be on me.”

Removing your fingers to wrap one around the other before pushing both back in, keeping the same pace. The action causes her back to arch, pressing her breasts harder into your face. You use this to your advantage, biting down moderately hard on her nipple eliciting a whorish moan from far within Wanda’s throat.

The sound makes your own eyes roll back, gaining encouragement, you pick up the pace of your fingers. Rolling your thumb in quicker and tighter circles trying to bring the woman right to the edge.

You begin to feel the witch’s walls clench and tighten around your fingers. Pressing down harder on her clit as her hips lift off the bed trying to meet your fingers, her body radiating heat.

Caught up listening to the sounds of her moans, your mind is far away from recognizing the woman below you movements, until you hear, “Daddy, please, go faster. So close. I’m so close.”

Your hand immediately stops with your fingers still inside her and your mouth releases her breast, “Oh, no. The poor little slut just ruined her own orgasm.”

Pathetic whines and pleads start pouring from the witch’s mouth, but she doesn’t dare move an inch as she begs, “Daddy, please, fuck me. I’ll be good, I want to cum. Please, make me cum, please.”

A wide smirk takes over your face, “Oh, how I love to hear you beg.” Tilting your head up to place a delicate kiss on the lips of the red head, “I’m in a generous mood. You want faster? You’ll get it.”

Teasingly, you begin to pull your finger out until the final knuckle then pushing back inside starting off immediately at a fast pace. Your focus centered on making the woman cum. Hard.

Your thumb begins to quickly roll the witch’s clit as her hands find your bare back scratching her nails up your back. Groaning as red lines begin to decorate you as she repeats her actions. Wanda’s eyes locking onto yours as they water over filled pleas as she bites her lip.

The view you had of her was better than any possible orgasm you could have. Nothing could beat seeing the witch unravel underneath you. Your fingers find a speed faster than you’ve done before.

The free flowing moans previously coming from the Sokovian start to catch in her throat as her toes curl. Loud gasps and broken moans draw your eyes away from her own and onto her pussy. The clenching around your fingers tighten and you know she is about to cum.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Is there anything you want to ask?” You say not bothering to attempt to hide the joy in your tone but hiding the smile on your face.

A bright blush matching the red head’s fiery hair warms up her face at the question, “Daddy, can I please, please, please cum for you?”

You pretend to ponder over the request for a moment until the smile you hid before finally breaks free, “Cum for me.”

Lowering your head back down between her legs and locking your lips tightly around her clit, curling your fingers up as you begin to suck firmly. Wanda falls backwards hitting the mattress hard before her back arches and her heels dig into the mattress.

“Da-d” The witch inhales sharply, screaming, ‘Daddy’ as she squirts.

It was hard to believe your smile could grow any wider than it was previously, but the scene in front of you drives you crazy in the best way. Slowing your fingers, never to a complete stop, to allow the Sokovian to ride out her orgasm.

“God, you’re a wonder.” Smirking before continuing, “Now, I want to see if you can do that again.”

#shay writes #wanda x reader smut #wanda maximoff x reader smut #scarlet witch fic #top!reader x bottom!wanda smut #top!fem!reader x bottom!wanda smut #top reader fic #top!reader fic #marvel fanfiction

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fivelakesinwriting · 3 years ago

Note

Drew starkey x reader where the cast is hanging out and swimming at the lake and it’s night. the cast notice the romantic tension between drew and the reader, they all slowly leave so they can be alone. Finally drew kisses her (can u do smut pls)

Hi, sweetness! I actually love this, so cute. And as a water girl/ lake lover, this is dreams.

Author's Notes: I just want to be friends with these people, so badly and this is basically one of my dream parties. And Drew Starkey can take me night swimming anytime... This one is long, but I think it's fun, it's flirty and I think it's kind of sexy. Please let me know what you think xoxo

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, Sexual references - sexual innuendos (I didn't do full smut, sorry. But it's still fun! I do have an idea for a potential second part...)

Requested? Heck yes! Requests for OBX are open!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

It was the perfect night for a swim. The sky was so clear it was almost as if they could reach up, grab the stars and count them in their palm.

Instead, they all decided it would be the perfect night to have a fire on the beach to accompany their swim. Everyone packed a bag, a cooler and drove down to the beach.

Drew drove her in his truck, just the two of them, down the to beach. His windows down to let the late night summer breeze hit their faces. He smiled over at her quickly when her heard he laugh, her hands pushing her long hair out of her face as the wind created a tunnel in the cab of the truck.

"Windows up next time?" Drew laughed softly as he adjusted his hat on his head then made the turn to the parking lot for the beach. The lot was empty except for the few cars that were waiting for the two of them to arrive.

"No. I like it." She smiled as she twisted her hair and held it to the side while he slowed his truck down, then parked it beside Chase's car.

"Good. I like the whole windblown look on you. It's cute." Drew smiled over at her as he pulled the keys from the ignition and undid his seat belt.

"Says the guy who doesn't have to brush his hair." She replied as she unfastened her own seat belt, then followed his lead and hopped out of the truck.

"You made it!" Madelyn squealed with a slight slur, her arms tossed around her friend's neck, their bodies hitting Drew's truck with a soft thud.

"We were like, five minutes behind you." Drew replied with a laugh as he reached into the back of his truck to pull out her backpack and his cooler. He kicked Chase in the shin as the wavy haired man walked up with raised eyebrows and a cheeky smirk.

"I didn't say anything, asshole." Chase grumbled as he reached down to rub his bruised flesh.

"You thought it." Drew replied under his breath as he lifted their items from the back of his truck and started to walk down from the parking lot towards the beach.

Drew walked next to Chase on the beach, the two watching as Madelyn drunkenly grabbed Her hand, and pulled her down to the shore. An eruption of giggles filled the quiet night air as the cold water of the lake touched the tips of their toes.

"So, you two?" Chase asked as both he and Drew placed their coolers down at the same time. Each man opened the lids of their respective coolers and pulled out either a can, or a bottle of beer.

"Getting there." Drew nodded with a sip of his beer, and another adjustment of his hat on his head. He kept his eyes trained on the shoreline as Madelyn grabbed Her hips and pulled Her down onto the sand.

"Guys! Sorry, we're late. JD forgot that cars need gas in order to function. So, we had to stop." Rudy called from the parking lot, before he came running towards them.

"S'alright." Drew laughed as he hitched at the waist, reached into his cooler and pulled out a beer to hand to the blonde man.

"Are they drunk already?" Rudy asked with a point the girls who wrestled on the beach as he pulled the tab on his beer.

"Madelyn is, yes." Chase laughed as he pushed his hand through his wavy hair.

"Ladies!" Madison yelled as she ran as fast as she could through the sand, stumbling only once, to get to the girls who still wrestled on the beach.

"She's drunk, too. Shotgunned a beer in the gas station parking lot." Rudy snickered while he watched all three women hug on the sand with a raucous of giggles.

"So, we lighting this thing? Or are we going to stand here like creeps all night?" JD asked as he finally made his way over to the rest of his friends and dropped down a pile of fire wood.

The boys took their eyes of the girls, letting them play in the sand for a bit longer, and took to building the fire in the stone pit on the beach. Drew tossed in the match and watched as the flames began to burn up the newspaper used for kindling. He jumped slightly when he felt arms wrapped around his chest from behind.

"Did you bring my bag down?" She asked softly in his ear, the sand from her body falling onto him.

"Yeah. It's right by the cooler. Going for a swim?" He smirked as he turned his body slightly to look at her. If it was possible, her hair was even messier than it had been when the windows were down in his truck.

"Yeah! The waves look like so much fun." She smiled as she ran her hands over his shoulders then made her way over to her backpack and began to rustle through it for her bathing suit.

"First of all, where are you going to change? Second. You're going to freeze your ass off in that water." Rudy replied as he crunched his beer can, tossed it into the garbage bag already full with a few empties courtesy of Madelyn and Chase, then grabbed a full can.

"Question one. I will change in Drew's truck. Question two. You don't know my threshold for cold, Pankow." She replied with a skip in her step as she carried her bikini in one hand towards Drew's truck to change.

Drew flicked a stone at Chase who mouthed a less than quiet "go" at his friend as the woman walked away.

"To help her put on a bathing suit? I'm sure she's fine." Drew replied as he finished off his own beer.

"She might need help tying those strings, Drew." Madelyn stated with a sing-song in her voice, her shoulders shaking from side to side.

"Fuck you, guys." Drew scoffed as he stood up, tossed his empty can then made his way towards the parking lot with his hands in his pockets to sounds of whoops and hollers from his friends.

He walked up to his truck and vaguely saw the shape of her body move around in the back seat of his truck. He bit at his bottom lip, then ran his thumb over it as he leaned against the driver side. It took all his conviction to not steal a peak through the open window.

"Good in there, hon?" He asked softly, his hands still in his pockets as he kept his eyes fixed on JD's license plate across the lot. He would not look at her bare back as she tried to tie up her bikini, one hand holding the triangles of her top to her breasts while the other reached behind her to tie the strings.

"No. I hate these fucking things. Can you help?" She grumbled from the backseat, as she reached to open the back door and shifted in the seat so her back faced him.

"Sure." Drew nodded as his bottom lip made home between his teeth again. He took the large step forward to stand behind her then took hold of the strings to her bikini and pulled them tightly around her chest.

"Thank you." She replied softly as his fingertips brushed over the back of her neck and tied the strings in a knot, his hands lingering over her shoulders for a brief second.

"You're welcome. This is a nice colour on you." Drew stated as he hooked his index finger in the top string of her deep purple bikini.

"Thanks, Drew." She smiled as she sat up on her knees in the backseat and faced him.

"Lady! Are you coming swimming or not?" Madelyn yelled from her spot on the sand, her bathing suit already on which led both Her and Drew to believe Madelyn changed on the beach.

"Yes, Madelyn! I'll be right there!" She laughed while she pushed her hair back from her face.

"Tell Drew to hurry up with your bikini! It's not that difficult!" Madelyn giggled as she took a swig from a wine bottle before she took off back towards the fire pit.

"Don't say anything back. She's more wine than woman at this point. Come swimming with me." She laughed as she reached for his biceps as he held his weight against the door frame of the truck. She pulled her body up close enough for a kiss but didn't give him the satisfaction of pressing her lips to his.

"Alright. I don't need help with my swimsuit, though." Drew grinned as he pushed himself off the truck and walked back towards the fire. He let out a heavy exhale when he knew he was far enough away from her earshot.

Drew, Chase and the girls made their way into the brisk water for a nighttime swim while Rudy and JD chose to stay and tend to the fire. Chase let out a loud yelp as a wave rolled in, cold water reaching up to his chest.

"You're a baby, Stokes!" She laughed as she began to tread water, then make the few front strokes over to Drew.

Drew took hold of her waist then pulled her close to keep her above the rolling waves. Their height difference apparent in the water.

"It's fucking freezing. What are you? A polar bear?" Chase replied, teeth chattered as he wrapped his arms around himself.

"You have to go under! Otherwise you're just two different temperatures." Madison giggled before she dove under the water, her feet splashing water high above everyone's heads.

"No. Fuck that. I'm not drunk enough for this." Chase shivered as he began to make his way out of the water. He raised his eyebrows at Drew as he looked at the woman in his friend's arms, her legs wrapped around his waist.

"I'm coming, too. I need more wine." Madelyn smirked as she swam over to Chase, her own eyebrows raised up at Drew.

"I'm going back up, too. Rudy is ruining that fire." Madison stated quietly as she pushed her long hair back from her face, and made her way towards the shore.

"They're all wimps." She smiled up at Drew, her arms around his neck as they both waded in the water as a large wave rolled over them.

"I don't know, hon. It is kind of cold in here." Drew laughed with his hands on her lower back to keep her close. It was the closest they had ever been, with the least amount of clothes on.

"I think it's nice. And you're warm, so I feel good." She stated softly as she placed her right hand on the back of his neck, her fingertips twirling the hair.

"Don't get me wrong. I'll deal with this cold water if I can have you wrapped around me like this. I really don't mind it." Drew grinned as he wrapped his left arm around her waist securely while his right hand grabbed at her thigh.

The two of them simply waded in the water for a bit, wrapped around each other and in the sexual tension they had created. She kept her hands on the back of Drew's neck, occasionally twisting a bit of hair at the nape.

"Drew?" She asked quietly after a few moments of sweet silence between them.

"Yeah."

"Did you see anything when I was changing in your truck?" She smiled at him as she placed her hands on his shoulders, her eyebrows raised.

"I mean..I may have seen just the side of these." Drew replied as he tilted his head to the side, the hand he had on her thigh reached up to brush the underside of her breast.

"Drew!" She laughed as she tossed her arms around his neck and pulled him close for a hug, her legs tightening around his waist.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. You're so pretty." Drew smiled while he nuzzled his face into her neck and tightened his grip around her.

"I forgive you." She whispered as he pulled his face from her neck and looked into her eyes, his nose brushed against hers.

Drew muttered a barely audible, "thank you" as his adjusted his hold on her, both his hands on her thighs to keep her around him. He felt her hands in his hair, giving the slightest of pulls and the other shoe finally dropped.

Drew pressed his lips to hers, closing the tiny space between them. He released a sigh of relief through his nostrils while she whined ever so softly in the back of her throat. The kiss between them had been building for weeks.

They finally broke apart, but only for air. Drew gripped at her thighs while he peppered her lips with kisses. Her hands pulled at his hair as she tried to catch her breath again.

"Drew?" She asked between pecks on her lips.

"Yeah, honey?" Drew muttered as he kissed his way from her lips to her neck.

"Do you think I could steal a peak at you in the back of your truck? It seems only fair." She asked as she released a heavy breath, her hands on his shoulders as his lips created a seal on her neck.

"You can have way more than a peak if you want, honey." Drew grunted as he lifted her higher around his waist, he pulled his lips off her neck so he could look at her face.

"Okay. Will you take me back to the truck to get warm?" She asked softly, her eyes downcast to watch as her fingertips caught the beads of water on his chest.

"Thought you'd never ask." Drew grinned as he adjusted her legs around his waist, then began to walk them back towards the shoreline. He placed her back on her feet softly on the sand and gave her backside a nudge towards the parking lot before he ran his hands through his hair.

"Are you guys finally coming back to the fire?" JD asked with a raised eyebrow as he poked the flames.

"In a second, yeah. She's cold, so we're just going to sit in the truck and warm up. Change out of these swimsuits." Drew replied as he shook the water off his fingertips.

"Whatever you say, Drew." Madison grinned as she rolled onto her stomach in front of the fire and cracked open another can of beer.

Drew muttered under his breath as he grabbed Her backpack then made his way through the sand towards his truck - the back door open. He walked to the front end of the truck, dropped the bag then made his way around the open door where his heart began to race.

"You're naked." Drew stated flatly as he looked at the woman sat up in the backseat of his truck without her purple bathing suit, the heat of the truck blasting.

"Can't sit around in a wet bathing suit, and you have my bag." She smiled over at him.

"Yeah, but you're naked in the back of my truck." Drew smirked as he held his weight against the frame of the door, his eyes scanning her body shamelessly.

"Do you want to come be naked in the back of your truck with me, Starkey?" She laughed as she turned to sit up on her knees, facing him.

"Uh huh. Sure do." Drew nodded as he reached down to untie his swimsuit then tugged it down to his ankles. He climbed inside the back with her and shut the door behind him, leaving his swim trunks in the parking lot.

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment Thank you for your support! xoxo

Requests for OBX are open!

#drew starkey fic #drew starkey fluff #obx request #obx fic #obx fluff #outer banks fluff #obx imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks requests #drew starkey imagine

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spookiekewchie · 3 years ago

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⛓kinktober 2021- massage⛓

—so put your hands on my body...

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Lance Tucker x woc!reader

Summary: His hands are too good, but you can't get enough of them on you.

Word Count: 2.2k+

Warnings: general language warning, massage, accidental stimulation, Lance Tucker (he's a warning), Lance tucker's filthy mouth, fingering, squirting, pet names (kitten)

A/N: Day six of kinktober is here my freaks and fiends. If there’s any errors or typos my bad, I gave it a look over before posting but I probably missed something knowing me.. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

“You know this might work better if you took your top off. Can’t really feel what I’m doing with this thick shirt in the way.” He commented, hiding the sly smirk from your sight when you rolled carefully onto your side to peer up at him in suspicion. “What? I’m just saying! I’m not gonna try anything, I just wanna make sure I get you sorted out so you stop taking my fucking head off every five seconds.” Lance insists, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. You sigh, you know you’ve been in a mood all day because of the painful knot in your neck, and finally you’ve agreed to let Lance work the kink out for you if only so you’d stop snapping at him every time he walked into a room.

You don’t buy it, and you know better than to trust Lance “the fucker” Tucker not to try something. That doesn’t stop you from slowly sitting up and pulling your shirt over your head to leave you in just a bra. You don’t miss the way Lance’s gaze darts lower to look at your breasts and you just roll your eyes before laying back down on the table to let him work his hands over you. “You better be as good as you claim to be, because if this is just an excuse to feel me up I’m going to kick you right in the Olympic jewels.” You threaten, only to hear Lance’s laughter over you. You know he is, you’ve heard his athletes talk about how he can work miracles with his hands. Doesn’t mean you can’t do your best to burst his bubble whenever you get the chance to make him actually work to impress you.

“Trust me, kitten. You’re not gonna want me to stop once I get started...ugh you mind undoing that for me. I don’t wanna hear you bitching about me messing with it while I work my magic.” He replies, and you debate it for a moment before huffing in annoyance and reaching behind you to unhook your bra. You can practically feel the self-satisfied grin on his lips when he finally reaches out to work his calloused hands against your bare skin. You shudder at the feeling of his touch, biting down on your bottom lip to quiet the little moan that damn near slips out of you. It felt good over your shirt, but without the barrier of fabric you can’t deny that his touch feels even better. Lance presses his thumbs against the right spot, kneading at the tight muscles. You groan again, cursing under your breath when he focuses in on that spot. It hurts, but it hurts in a good way that finally makes a little moan eek its way out of you.

“What was that? Didn’t quite hear you.” He teases, and you grumble under your breath, shoulders sagging in relief once the knot is finally massaged out. You know you should stop him now, especially when you feel his hands sliding further down your back. Something about his calloused hands just feels too good, and you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop just yet. You’re starting to get it, all that praise that his athlete’s give him makes sense. Lance is thorough, taking his time to test this spot and that and finding ones that you didn’t even know were a problem until he gets to them. It really does feel good, too good, and you can already feel yourself being lulled into a state of relaxation that makes you a little too compliant.

The sigh that exhales out of you isn’t intentional, but it gives Lance the perfect opening to push for just a little more from you. “You know,” he starts, “you’re still feeling a little tense, kitten. Seems like you shoulda let me take care of you sooner than this.” He tsks, hands sliding to your lower back to work at another knot of muscle that you were vaguely aware of. You try to focus, though you’re keenly aware of your breathing getting a little heavier when you feel how his fingers tease at your lower back.

“What are you suggesting, Lance?” You question, keeping your tone as innocent as possible but when another satisfied sound escapes you roll your eyes. It’s a natural reaction, you tell yourself. If something feels good it’s not uncommon for a person to respond vocally to it, you reason while doing your best to ignore the brief fluttering between your thighs.

“I’m suggesting a full body massage,” He can see that you’re about to try and resist so he rushes to try to convince you to give in before you can shoot him down. “trust me...you’ll be so relaxed by the time I’m done that I’ll have to carry you out of here.” He promises, and you hum in thought as you weigh the pros and cons of falling into that trap. You figure you’re still mostly immune to the effects of being this close to him, and you haven’t had a good full body massage in a while. If Lance is offering one then perhaps just this once you can indulge in it.

“I suppose it could help, I have been pretty tense lately.” You concede, doing your best not to complain too much when you feel Lance’s hands slipping down to the waistband of your pants. To his credit, you suppose, he only works you out of them and leaves your underwear in place. You pants and comfortable flats, join your discarded shirt and Lance takes a moment to simply admire your barely dressed form.

“Cute underwear.” He teases, trailing the rough pads of his fingers over one of your ankles slowly, making you shiver. “Wait here, I got just the thing to help you relax.” He says before stepping away to rifle through his gym bag to pull out a bottle of oil. He squeezes out a bit and then he sets to work. He works out the tight muscles of your calves with slow and methodical motions, then he inches higher and teases his fingers against the backs of your knees. It’s a spot that you don’t expect to be so sensitive, but the longer Lance lingers there the more you can feel yourself wanting to squirm.

You almost breathe out a sigh of relief when he moves on to focus on your thighs. The way his hands glide over you, and his fingers press into just the right spots makes you keen from behind your teeth. You feel how his every touch has gooseflesh prickling up over you, and he’s got you so lost in how good his hands feel working against your muscles that you don’t register how intense the tingling ache between your thighs has gotten until you feel how your panties are starting to cling to your folds. You curse yourself internally, chewing your bottom lip and think that maybe you should tell him that you’ve had enough even though you know you really haven’t. You’re relieved again when he lets his hands slide over the swell of your ass to knead at the muscles of your back again.

That relief is short lived, because when he speaks next you know you’re caught. “Still think I’m not good at this?” He questions, and you narrow your eyes slightly. “Because these cute panties are starting to cling to you.” He tells you, and you swallow thickly as you do your best not to squirm, but you can’t help it when his fingertips move back down to your thighs and dig into supple flesh and knead away at the softness there as he massages the soothing oil into your muscles. “Relax, kitten.” He coos, fingers inching dangerously high on your inner thigh. “I promised I’d take care of you and help you work out all that tension,” you can feel a finger ghosting over you through the damp fabric and you gasp out his name though you aren’t sure if it's a warning or a plea. “Just think of it as a different type of massage.” He whispers, testing the waters and dragging his finger more firmly over the damp fabric covering your core. When you don’t launch into a series of colorful threats he takes it as a sign to give you more, and begins to slowly stroke at you through the fabric.

You can’t help but moan, the sound coming out strained from behind your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s teasing you, and you know it but you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop. You feel too good and he’s gotten you so worked up that you don’t even care that you have most definitely let Lance talk you into this compromising position. Your hips try to press down more against his stroking fingers, but he makes sure to keep his touch just firm enough to taunt you with the promise of something more and you can’t stop yourself from whining in frustration. He chuckles, his other hand sliding slowly up the length of your spine until you can feel his hand against the back of your neck. You moan, muffling the sound with a hand only to feel him yanking your head back by a grip that he’s gotten on your pony tail. You gasp, back arching just enough to accommodate the way he’s making your head rear back.

“Kitten, you’re gonna have to speak up. Can’t hear you when you try to keep yourself quiet like that.” You grit your teeth, mouth falling open with a huff of frustration. “Tell me what you need.” He demands, and it’s the first time you’ve heard him sound so authoritative. It goes straight to your pussy and before you know it you’re saying words that you never thought you’d utter to him in a million years.

“Mmm, Lance...touch me, please touch me.” You breathe the words, hands gripping the edge of the table while you hope he doesn’t decide to just keep teasing you. You almost cry out in relief when you feel him pulling your panties to the side and pressing two fingers into your tight hole. Your eyes almost roll back, a loud moan crawling its way out of your throat at the feeling of his digits stretching you.

“Look at you, already making a mess on my fingers.” He says, fingers pumping in and out of you slowly until you're whimpering for him. “That what you need, or do you think you can handle one more?” The prospect of him giving you more makes you clench around him, and you nod as best you can with his other hand still pulling your head back by your ponytail.

“M-more…” You stutter out through panting breaths. Lance smirks, and you can feel him working a third finger into you, you curse loudly at the added stretch. “Fuck!..feels so good.” You know you’re being loud, but it’s only you two left in the gym and you can’t bring yourself to try and keep quiet any longer. Especially when his fingers start to stroke and explore your fluttering walls as if Lance were searching for something. It’s not until his fingers touch against that sweet spot inside you that your hips jerk and you let out a loud cry.

“That’s the spot, huh?” He laughs, already knowing the answer. He takes no time at all to zero in on it and let his fingers plunge roughly in and out of your core until you're dripping, and you can hear the lewd squelching of your juices as he targets that spot inside you. Your palm smacks against the table, and you can’t quiet your loud moans and cries of pleasure as Lance shows you just how well he knows how to use his hands. Your hips raise up off of the table that Lance has you laid out on, and it only gives him a better angle to drive his fingers into you. “Don’t fight it, kitten. Just let it go. Let go for me.”

You don’t know why but his words are like a trigger for you, and can’t help the way you cum for him right then and there trembling with a wordless cry as your juices gush out of you. You soak his hand, and he makes sure to keep fucking his fingers into you until he’s sure he’s gotten every drop out of you. He lets go of your ponytail to let you rest your head, and your hips collapse against the table with a wet smack when they land in the puddle that he’s coaxed out of you. You can’t even bring yourself to feel embarrassed, all you feel is relaxed and blissful as the post orgasm high begins to settle in.

Feeling his fingers slide out of you, you stir just enough to turn your head to peer up at Lance who’s unashamedly licking his fingers clean of your essence. “Next time I’m making you do that on my mouth.” He tells you, and you know you should tell him to keep dreaming, but you just can’t help but wonder if his mouth is just as good as his hands after what you’ve just experienced.

#lance tucker x woc!reader #lance tucker x black!reader #lance tucker x reader #lance tucker x woc #lance tucker x you #lance tucker reader #lance tucker fanfic #lance tucker fic #lance tucker fanfiction #woc!reader #black!reader #kinktober 2021 #trilla writes

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i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end · 2 years ago

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Sherlock Holmes, Goethe and “Faust” (and love, maybe)

So, I made this post which was basically a (sad) parody about the end of “The Sign of Four” when Watson says “I’m getting married” and Holmes says “That’s a pity, where’s the cocaine?”

What got me thinking was that Holmes also quotes Goethe at this point, saying: “Schade, dass die Natur nur einen Menschen aus dir schuf, Denn zum würdgen Mann war und zum Schelmen der Stoff“, meaning something in the line of „ It's a pity that nature made only ONE person out of you because there's potential in you to be a dignified man or a rascal”. [And that's not a great translation, but I'm struggeling with "Schelm". Anyway.]

So, this is far-fetched, I admit it. But I, as a native German speaker, immediately associated that with another quote by Goethe that is (at least nowadays and at least in Germany) much more well-known and has become some kind of a winged word:

“Zwei Seelen, wohnen, ach! in meiner Brust!” – “Two souls, alas! reside within my breast!”

[translation via the Gutenberg-Projekt]

So, basically, in this scene, the protagonist – Dr. Faust, who is some kind of a mad scientist and philosopher and just in general very enthusiastic about gaining knowledge and experience and the like, but currently despairing because he realized he can never really know anything at all – is going for a walk with an acquaintance of his, Wagner. Wagner thinks he’s super nerdy and edgy and stuff and says things like he doesn’t care about the beauty of nature and worldly things in general because he prefers reading ancient books.

So, that’s when Faust disagrees and says that that Wagner only knows that one impulse (and honestly, he actually doesn’t even know the one because Wagner is not such a big fan of critical thinking but rather likes doing things that make him feel important), the intellectual, spiritually minded impulse. But there’s a second one that Faust longs to experience rather violently: The worldly one, the beauties and joys (and all the other feelings) of being alive, being worldly and corporeal and experiencing what it means to be human. (Note: A few lines later they will meet Mephistopheles, the devil, and there will be a pact made in which Faust will trade his life for an all-inclusive experience of the worldly delights.) These two wishes (and ways of living) fight for dominance within him.

And that brings me back to Sherlock Holmes. Holmes quotes Goethe after Watson is like “Seriously, how can one person be so hyperactive and so lazy at once??”, so on the obvious level the quote refers to opposing character traits within one person. But if one makes the associative leap to the much more well-known quote from Goethe’s “Faust”, one might also argue that Holmes is really talking about how he both wants to live a rational, professional life and an emotional, private life – and that he doesn’t see a way to unite them. Don’t forget how only a few lines previous he said: “love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true cold reason which I place above all things”. Please don’t forget about “the science of deduction” that forces Holmes, or so he says, to remain detached from everything, just as Faust tries to unravel the mysteries and meanings of the world and life itself by theory – and despairs of it. (Following the worldly way of gaining knowledge is what satisfies Faust in the end, but it also brings him into sin, guilt and damnation. His soul is saved, however in part II, through the love of his girlfriend whom he treated really badly. Anyway.)

Watson is leaving Holmes, so he tries to tell himself that this is better anyway because "love is an emotional thing" etc. pp. we get it. Poor Sherlock Holmes thinks that he can either pursue perfection or happiness. You can choose either exact science or love, reason or emotion. He says so directly. Someone should give him a hug.

PS: I’m not a literature student and it’s been a while since I thought about “Faust” in depth, so if there are any specialists here, please correct me if I missed something crucial (but please be kind).

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chocominnie · 3 years ago

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Desperado — 09 (M) | JJK

Pairing: Badboy!Jungkook X Reader

Summary : A messy situationship at it’s finest. You don’t even know whats headed your way, just even engaging in the slightest within him. See, he has an assignment to complete. A mission granted by his father thats do or die. You just so happen to be a major pawn in that assignment. He didn’t mean to take an interest in you. Surely it was an accident right? Only except. you hold much value in this game that he’ll do anything to complete it. Oblivious is what you are. Poor thing. Poor.. Poor thing.

Genre: Mature/ Mafia!Jungkook

Trailer: xxxxx preview 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

Word Count : 7.3k

Warnings : This honestly isn’t for the light hearted and the weak…High angst, usage of drugs, drug mentions, mental illness, switch!jungkook, Brat reader, possible stockholm syndrom, kidnapping, assault, death of side characters, murder, weapons, usage of weapons, masturbation, physical violence, blood, alcohol, weed, unprotected and protected sex, spanking, honestly its a lot of aruging…

Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

TW : Suicide, Body Hanging for display.

Her hair moves so flawlessly and the her breasts spill over the mini triangle bra with each sensual move she makes. The way her waist and body whines against the pole could leave absolutely anyone in a trance.The rhythm of the music blasts in the air and she’s directly on beat to it, not missing anything through the song playing.

The led lights are dimmed low enough in a red color, but enough for everyone to see. Shes uncaring at the men in the room sizing her up in her designer high waisted thong that hugs her hips very well, showing off her round, plump ass. That was what she wanted, the attention all on her while they throw hundred dollar bills for her.

�� Who knew someone could get down and dirty like that.”

To no suprise, Jimin, the ladies man but heartbreaker for sure, enters the private room and closing the door beind him. He throws a stack of money towards her, as he was the seemingly late one to the meet-up.

“ Jungkook is late, he’s never late. What’s taking him so long?” A grumpy Namjoon says, looking down at his apple-watch. It’s half past 10 pm and usually he’s the first one here.

“ He’s probably sucking up to yn-”

The girl turns her head sharply towards the boys, overhearing what they said. She furrows her eyebrows at them, “ Why would he be doing that..”

Taehyung lets out a small groan. “ Because Mr. Lover boy has gotten himself a crush. The worst part is, she’s his target for this mission.”

“ Shut the fuck up. I don’t have a crush on her, i’m just doing my job.” A semi-loud voice roars through the doors. Everyone stops to look at the sudden intruder and to relief it’s him, Jungkook.

Of course he has to lie about that. He knew for sure he caught himself up with you and the feelings were strong. Though the big bad mafia boy catching feelings for his target is highly uncommon, and Jungkook doesn’t know the consequences.

“ Jungkook..” The girl says, frowning at him with her hand on her hips. He takes a seat on the couch and tilts his head at her to go on. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at the young boy. “ You fell for her.. so what about us?”

It isn’t hard to say that he doesn’t have any more feelings left for the girl. She and him both knew what they agreed upon. The pair had history together, sexual to be exact. Romance was hardly there if he were to be honest. She’d began actually working for Won-Shik, under this club they’re in now which is owned by him, a year ago. Jungkook had entered the club once when he was considered a minor, but that was to pass a message along to the girl from his father. He was told to go straight in and straight out. Of course, he did the exact opposite. Sat around looking at all the half naked women that night as the music blared loud.

It wasn’t until his phone rang and it was Casper telling him to hurry up and come back to the car, is when he finally decided to get up and look for the girl. When he did find her, it was over with for him. The girl was, and still is, stunning. One of the many foreign girls in the club but she’s the one that stood out of all. She wore nothing but a small outfit as she danced on the pole. Her beauty mesmorized Jungkook that night as he watched her dance in awe. Soon enough she came to him showing her her dimply smile and perfect teeth.

He was stunned alright. She knew he looked to be too young for the club so she asked him his age. He told her, and thats when she nearly called security on him until he told her who he was and affiliated with. The message was passed along accordingly to her, she got the memo. Jungkook though, kept coming back to that club and always going to where she was, following her around the club like a lost puppy. She enjoyed his time, as all she did was sit and talk with him and that turned out to not be enough for him. He wanted her, and she insisted that he was too young for her.

So Jungkook did what any other person would do when feeling rejected, he started to present himself like a true man and mafia boy. The gym was his favorite place after that and he buffed up very well. That jawline of his got sharper and his personality gained more confidence and dominant by the time he turned nineteen. He of course kept going at her, shooting his shot anytime he could and yet kept getting denied. It wasn’t until his nineteenth birthday is when he begged her telling her how bad he wanted her, and that lap dance he kept suggesting months before. Since it was his birthday and he was legal, she gave him what he wanted but that still wasn’t enough for him. He wanted her underneath him bad. The slight age gap between them didn’t phase Jungkook at all. What he wants, is what he gets.

And he did.

And kept getting it, and getting it, and getting it since then.

“ Relax baby, I’ll still be coming around you know that.” His voice is smooth, smirking at her. He wasn’t going to be coming around as much, but he knew that would disappoint her.

She purses her lips and begins walking towards him and sits directly on his lap, straddling him. Jungkook can’t push her off the way he wants to because it would confirm the crush rumors from the boys about you. So he lets her sit there, uncomfortable as hell for him.

Namjoon clears his throat to get the rest of the group attention. It’s nearly 11 pm and Crystal has been blowing up his phone ever since he stepped foot in the club. He told her beforehand about the meeting, but she wanted him at her apartment by at least 1 am.

“ We all know you love yn, but remember who you are Jungkook.” Namjoon says, glaring at the boy who returns the glare back at him. “ Fuck you. Like I said, im just doing my job.”

“ If you were doing your job Jungkook, there’s no way in the hell that it should take you this long. “ Jin retaliates. He knows hes right.

By this time, Jimin had finished preparing seven perfectly rolled blunts filled with the most finest imported weed. He places them onto the tray, taking his own and then passing the tray to Yoongi. Each of the boys take their own until it reaches down to Jungkook who takes his and puts the tray back onto the table.

“ Enough about her. I was summoned to go over the details for the next seven days. “ Jungkook groans, sparking his blunt and inhaling. He passes it Melanie, who takes it to inhale as well.

A malicious smile comes upon Yoongi’s face as he exhales the smoke into the already fogged up air. One thing he loves to talk about is torture. One of bangtan’s best walking torture device to be known.

“ Tonight we are starting.. I say you let me go first.” Yoongi pauses, taking a long inhale of his blunt. “ I’m coming for their trade transaction place. Arson, let me burn the bitch down and then fuck around with their father.”

It’s a good idea. Sending a message after burning it down straight to it’s opponent. Fire is Yoongi’s thing, and that’s his signature marking in the Bangtan Boys. The father of the shooter was one of their dealers, until the shooter’s father fucked up by taking money out of bangtan’s cut little by little. The boys knew about it, they waited for the perfect time back then to take action. Of course, giving them a mission to complete.. or so he thought. The mission was a false one. Created by Jungkook to catch him off guard. Jungkook used some of the mafia men on Won-Shik’s side to set up a trade off of drugs, decieving the shooter’s father by thinking they were just setting up a regular mafia trade from another gang. The trade was complete, but their protection was no more. Needless to say, the men didn’t even make it back to their cars. It was a bloodshed war between Jungkook’s assigned men and their men. The point was to send a memo that the Bangtan Boys were coming for them, and coming hard.

Everynight for two weeks unimaginable signs were sent to their family. Ranging all the way from several gunshot bullets going through their home, to severed heads of previous betrayers of the bangtan boys, sitting right on their porch. By now, all the other gangs in Korea knew not to have any business with them.

“ Day 2 I want it. I’m going for the mother. That scamming bitch and her precious flower shop? I’m shooting it up. Whoever lives, lives. Whoever dies, dies.” Jimin shrugs, smirking as he leans back in his spot.

“ Day 3, for me I’m sending another message. One of their men is gonna die in my god damn hands. I’ll be sure to take a selfie and send it to the father. The body will lay hanging on that pretty little oak tree in their yard.” Taehyung says. The boys are roar with shock that he’s said that. Normally he doesn’t like touching a dead body, so it’s a change for him.

The boys continue listing off the days and assigned tasks for the rest of the night into the wee early morning. Namjoon left after his, of course going straight to his girls apartment. They don’t judge him, seeing as though the boy really is in love and knows when and how to handle it. He definately doesn’t mix business and his love life together, unlike his other hyung. Soon enough the banter and socializing ends and it’s time for Yoongi first.

Night 1

It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to find the place. The empty steets of Seoul have soon faded into just dirt roads with the city left behind. The humming of his porsche echos through the night time air. Yoongi takes one final turn, making sure to pull into the place slowly like a true hunter keeping it’s eye on its prey. It’s not a full house tonight, even better.

Taking the jug of gasoline out his car, he carries it with ease up to the empty warehouse. The wildlife outside don’t make a noise. As if they know who’s approaching and just shut right up. Forty degrees fahrenheit outside and lastnight’s snowfall piled all around.The darkness outside is haunting, anything could pop out at any second to kill the man. That doesn’t scare him at all. Darkness is always what he crave. Inside and out.

“ Sir.. do you want us to go in with you?”

Yoongi stops dead in his tracks. He’d almost forgotten about the back-up men Jungkook ordered for him. It’s not like he needed them anyways, but since Jungkook can’t be there with Yoongi, that was the next best choice.

Rolling his eyes without turning around,“ No. Wait in your cars. I’ll handle it on my own.”

Just like that. The boys are off like lightening. Yoongi takes one final step towards the two double doors, and begins to pour the gasoline at it’s starting point. Usually, he’d go from the inside out, but seeing as though he wanted them to scurry out fearing for their lives, this is the next option as well. Soon enough, the enire jug is empty and he’s now poured all of it around the outside of the warehouse. Leaves crunch with every step he makes back to the starting point. Part of him hopes they can’t hear him from the outside. It’ll ruin the plans.

The lighter in his pocket feels so smoothe against his palms as he reaches for it. It’s one of his signature ones with his initials on it. An andrenaline rush runs through his veins as flicks the ignition with his thumb. The flame all bright and orange as he stands there infront of the building. It’s going to be a damn good night.

Without hesitating, Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair and throws the lighter right onto the gasoline puddles. The way the whole ring of fire lights up infront of his eyes makes him laugh hysterically while watching the whole building go into flames. The loud crackling sounds of the now decomposing warehouse jumps him back into reality.

He heads right towards the big tree next to the right of the warehouse, leaning on it with one foot up against it with his hands crossed. That sinister smile doesn’t leave his face. He enjoys the view of the men from the inside running out as fast as they can. Some falling in the ring of fire in the process. The fire is no match for any human as they try to stop drop and roll. Ha, as if that would work with a 15 foot fire consuming the warehouse. The dead bodies pile up on their own, just burning in the fire over their simple mistakes of falling and thinking they would survive the fire.

Until the golden egg comes out. He’s furious as runs out perfectly, as if he’s been through this, without managing to catch on fire. Yoongi chuckles, leaning off the tree. “ Kang Dong-Woo.”

Usually Yoongi would use the honorfics to people who were much older than him. In this case though, he doesn’t deserve honorifics.

“ Min Yoongi.” He says, harshness laced within his voice. Dongwoo frowns when nearing the man. He knows what Yoongi is capable of, and that’s what sets his fight for flight into action.

“ Let’s get straight to it. Your daughter is after our leader. She seems to be doing the dirty work for you yeah? Did you not train her enough? Of course you know she wont be able to live after this right?”

Dongwoo laughs right into Yoongi’s face as if he was joking. It angers Yoongi, so he grabs Dongwoo by the shirt and drags the man over to the fire where he kicks the back of his legs to where he’s kneeling inches away from it.

“ I don’t think this is a laughing matter, Dongwoo.” He growls, tightening his grip around Dongwoo’s arms that are behind his back. “ You want to die?”

“ She’s gonna fuck you all over.” He growls.” You may think she’s not capable of finishing off you guys one by one, but she is. I raised and trained her since a kid. She’s stronger with more energy than me. She’ll kill you all when you least expect it.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at him.” The dumb bitch can’t even shoot right. Going for someone else knowing Jungkook would save them is an ameteur move. Should’ve went straight for his damn head.”

“ I’ll make sure she’ll bring you guys hell Min Yoongi. All of you. Tell that shit to Jungkook and his daddy for me alright?” He mocks, laughing again at the boy to taunt him.

Yoongi doesn’t care for it. He’s had enough of this foolish talk. With one swift move he kicks the man’s back making him fall down to the left side, away from the fire. He’s lost it. He’s totally lost it at this point and there is no going back. Kick after kick after kick, he doesn’t stop. No. Not until the Dongwoo is sure to cough up blood. The crimson liquid poors from his mouth as he lays there. No remorse is felt.

Besides, the bastard bitch needed to get the message. Consider it message recieved.

Night 2

The flower shop is full, but not full to its entirety. There's tons of different bouquets and arrangements set around the pretty shop, from what he can see from the outside. It’s almost closing time, an hour left. Jimin’s fingertips grip on the steering wheel, anxious but patient to make his move. He’s running off of pure adrenaline and 2 cans of monster that are crushed and sitting in the passenger seat. Waiting isn’t his forte and he’d honestly like to get this show on the road now.

The moon is out and shining bright tonight. A sigh escapes his lips when he glances again at the shop. The only reason he’s not done it yet is due to the fact that there is a child and his mother inside. Rule number 2 of Bangtan, injure no child. The price to pay if you were to break the rule? Simply it would cost you your own damn life.

As if time would of went any slower for the boy, the child and his mother finally made their transaction and made it out of the store, heading across the street to continue their journey of shopping. It’s go time.

He knew to come prepared with his bulletproof vest and full face ski mask, long Sleeve black shirt to cover all the markings he has and also the two tattoos on each of his arms. He knew that the little lady wouldn’t be so dumb to not carry, or at-least have someone inside that would be her undercover security. Considering who her husband is, there’s no way she won’t be protected.

Oh how innocent the people look to not know what’s coming next. Jimin loads his Glock 19 with golden bullets that have Bangtan Boys initials and symbols on it just before pulling his mask down and getting out the car. He makes sure to signal his back-up men to create a distraction so he could make his entrance. Sure enough, a loud boom in the near distance of what sounds like some type of construction falling, echos loudly. It turns heads from all around to look where the sound came from, making it easy for Jimin to slide into the flower-shop.

Not a sound made by him. He draws his gun and pulls the safety off the trigger, then cocks it. Eyes are all on him as his eyes shift around the room looking for his target. There she is, eyes wide in the middle of a transaction for two middle aged couple. His eyes set into hers, lowly smiling and pointing it at her. The way everyone frantically screams and cries out doesn’t phase Jimin, no. It just encourages him even more as he starts firing shots mid air, shooting any and every person in sight for the hell of it. Bodies drop to the ground, and the bloodbath begins.

Jimin doesn’t hesitate to step over everybody, eyes still set on his target. The middle aged couple’s shrieks were cut short by their bodies dropping to the ground with three shots each to their hearts.

“ Park J-” He cuts her crying off with a finger to his lips, daring her to say his name in public. She gets the memo. “ I wouldn’t if I were you.”

The barrel is pressed against her temple as she trembles with fear. He cocks his head to the side, smiling at her when he taps the gun against her head harshly, repeatedly. “ You know why I’m here.”

“ You kill me and she will murder you all.”

Jimin chuckles, “ That’s what you guys think. We don’t have time for your gimmicks. It was you guys who stole money from us. Why did you think you’d still be protected from the law from us? Getting your daughter to go for the leader first is dumb, like the rest of you.”

“ We almost went to prison for you guys, remember that? We needed that cut money from you guys to pay off our legal fees. Thats why we stole. We completed your dirty work while trying to pay off the fees, its the least you guys could of did as a reward.”

“ That’s not how it would’ve worked. You fucked up. All of you.”

With two shots to the leg, she falls into Jimins arms. He rolls his eyes and throws his body off of him and onto the floor. It’s going to be a headache trying to explain to the dry cleaners why there is blood stains on his designer ripped jeans.

Night 3

It was too easy, way too easy. It took nothing to lure that man right into Taehyung’s trap. Nothing but a simple few slick comments made to him for him to get a riled up at the wrong person. Taehyung had spotted the man prior heading into the park with a small duffle bag. He assumed it was for a night trade off for some other person who had delivered drugs for him. Nontheless, it was merely too easy to pose as the alleged person who completed the mission.

A rookie. That guy must’ve been a rookie.

When the money was handed off to Taehyung, he tossed it to the side and struck the man down. The two did fight on the concrete floor for a bit but the man was no match for Taehyung’s quick moves. Taehyung’s pocket knife dances around the man’s throat as his body is pinned to the ground.

“ Rookie mistake not verifying if I’m the real one.” He chuckles, pressing the blade against the mans neck. The man pleads for his life but it’s no use. Message must be sent, that it’s no way you’ll fuck around with Bangtan and escape.

“ You know, I would’ve trained you more than Dongwoo. Letting the weakest link go run an errand? Ha. Your boss set you up for that one.”

Although the man is merely innocent, it doesn’t stop Taehyung from slicing into the man’s neck. A blood curdling scream comes out, but soon hushed over as his will of breathing and screaming is cut. It’s music to Tae’s ears.

The body is transfered per request of Taehyung to his back-up men. It’s not like him to touch a bloody dead body. So they take him into the back of their car and follow Taehyung to the residential house of the shooter. Nothing more than 10 minutes away.

The lights are cut off in the neighborhood. Not a sound made other than the two cars coming down the street. Everyone seems to be at peace and quiet in their homes. Sleeping to say the least. Upon arrival, Taehyung parks his car right infront of the house. The back-up men drag the bloody body out the car and onto their lawn, placing it right under the oak tree.

Taehyung takes the rope be brought along with him, and begins to tie multiple knots around a sturdy branch from the tree. When done, he wraps some of the rope around the dead boy’s neck, tying it into a slipknot and hoists him up high into the air.

The body dangles from the tree like a flag waving in the sky proud and high. He signals for the boys that the assignment is done and that they’re free to leave. Taehyung though, he just sits back in admiration of his work. It’s been a while sinice he felt this way. So he stands there soaking it all in.

Message recieved.

Since it’s been three entire days of hell, Jungkook knew his day will be approaching faster than ever. If only it could get here faster though. Truth is, Won-Shik isn’t too happy about Jungkook’s plan still not being complete. At this point, the father is going against him any chance he gets to just get this over with.

Luckily, tonight he’d be able to meet with his father again with some good news. It hasn’t been brought to his attention yet about your father being in Taiwan. With the technology of Won-Shik’s men, your father could be brought here within 12 hours tops.

“ Father.” Jungkook says, entering his office doors. The boy fixes his leather jacket upon entering and places his hands back into his pockets. “ I have news.”

Won-Shik is one to not play around with. Interupting his office time is a big, big deal. One is to not enter without it being urgency. That rule still applies to the heir of the company. “ It better be damn good because your plan isn’t getting anywhere Jeon Jungkook.”

Won-Shik takes his glasses off and sets them to the side on his desk. Its full of papers and photos of himself and Jungkook when he was a child. His favorite one right in the middle, where Jungkook had just ate some cherry flavored ice cream and his lips were all red as he smiled for the camera showing his two front teeth. It reminded him of when Jungkook was easier to manage rather as to now where he’s a damn menace.

“ Taiwan. Her father is in Taiwan. I don’t think it’s Taipei though.. he’s hiding so a city wouldn’t be ideal. I say search the mountains first, then the city.”

Bringing this proposal to the table meant that Jungkook wanted to atleast gain his father’s trust back. Hell, he wanted all this to be over with by now because you were driving him crazy to the point where he’s beginning to actually forget who the hell he was and why he was assigned this mission. The plan was not to fall, but to complete. He’d be lying if he wasn’t knee deep in love with you right now. It all comes down to him protecting you from his father at this point.

“ So your little plan is suddenly working huh.. still doesn’t mean she gets to run free Jungkook.” He says, smirking at the boy to challange him. Jungkook knew that. Once it’s proven that your father is the snitch, all of the family dies.

You’re innocent. Too innocent to know that or to be even tangled in that mafia mess of his. Part of him wishes he never met you and never had been assigned this mission. Then everything would be so damn different and emotions wouldn’t be caught up in this. From the moment he met you, he knew it would be hard. You have always held a special part in his heart. Only because you acted just like his mother. Sweet, but sassy and it hurt him a lot on how you remind him of her. You even word your words just like her, even when upset. Everything about you, is just like her.

It was hard to not get attached to wanting to get to know you more. Somehow he thought that if he got to know you, he’d somehow fill that hole inside him of his mother’s disappearance. As if you were going to be his new replica as you would be the one to put a band-aid on that hole to patch it up.

Here you are, not knowing you could die any moment and it will all be thanks to Jeon Jungkook, who couldn’t save you fast enough.

“ I know. But she’s innocent. She doesn’t even know her dad worked with us. I swear she doesn’t.” Jungkook bites his lip in hopes that there could be someway to save you by the hands of your father.

“ I dont care!” He roars, jumping out his seat. Jungkook flinches, backing up a bit from the sudden outburst. “ You know not to mix business and pleasure. You reap what you sew. You get to pay the consequences.”

Jungkook knew that though.

“ Father-”

“ Nothing more. I’ll have my team start the search right now. You on the other hand, get you god-damn shit together Jungkook. You’re the heir, not a damn lover-boy. Got it?”

It is no use of arguing with him. Jungkook looks down at the ground and nods his head yes just before Won-Shik dismisses him. It’s going to hurt. Seeing you dead. He hopes for a miracle can happen, that your father will not be the snitch. That you and him could live happily ever after. There will no be any happily ever after about this situation though. One will die. Just a matter of who it will be.

The vibrating sensation in his pocket snaps him out of his trance. An incoming call from Namjoon. It’s alarming since today is Namjoon’s day of hell, and only one thing could be happening right now if he’s calling for Jungkook.

There’s been a mistake.

“ What is it Namjoon.”

“ She fucking outsmarted me. The bitch caught on to where my location would be for the next kill. I don’t know where the fuck she is Jungkook.. this is bad.”

Jungkook sighs heavily, closing his eyes while letting out strings of curses come from his mouth. Shit couldn’t get possibly worse than this right now. Namjoon said he’d wanted to go straight for the killer and bust her up a bit. Give her some words and a branding on her. He had wanted to do it with a knife, carving the initals of Bangtan Boys into her upper hip. Namjoon had zero problem tracking her next location down, as he had been keeping an eye on her all day. To him, it seemed as if she would be heading to an orchestra shop in the city. Every step she took, Namjoon took it too.

Until she rounded the corner to go inside the shop and she wasn’t there. There wasn’t any outlet. The shop was on a dead end street surrounded by other shops that they both had passed. There was no way she didn’t go back, he would of saw it. He saw her go into the store, so she had to be there right?

Wrong. You see she knew all this time that Namjoon was followering her while in disguise. The orchestra shop where she led him to, she knew the owner. They were good friends. She had spoken to him asking if that she could use his upstairs office to read over some of the newest edition of music pieces for her to practice. He obliged, and she made up there in time before Namjoon came inside.

Up there, she’d be lying if she wasn’t scared to death. All this week the boys had definately given her hell. Each day with zero remorse. It was taking a toll on her for sure. Taking up this assignment by herself wasn’t something easy but she wanted to prove to him that she can be just like him. That she wanted to work with him too to take down Bangtan for decieving them and leaving them in the dust.

She can’t do it. The boys are to expierenced for her. It’s a bad mistake that she cannot come back from. You see, she thought it would be easy to befriend you and become close to you after you’d laid eyes upon Jungkook your first day here. She knew you’d soon fall for him, like any other girl did, and that would be her easy acess to him from you. It was all planned beforehand. To be quiet and observe you and your moves with him. In her mind, Jungkook needed to die first. The boys can’t function all that well without him, so that would be the weak spot to take advantage of if he would’ve died when she knew he’d take the bullet for you. She coudn’t shoot him first, it’d be too straightforward and blunt.

It was going all well. Deep in the inside she was jealous of you as well. Sungmin had been her crush for years, they even almost dated. Until you came along and he left her in the dust for you. Sungmin is everything she wanted in a boy, but you took that away from her. Her chances to date him ruined by you. It hurt everyday to see him head over heels in love with you, when that was just her at one point before you came along. Not only that, but she seen the way you play with Sungmin’s emotions. It made her upset that you do that. Sungmin’s love is a drug, whether it be friendship love or romantic, nobody can get enough of it.

All this stressed her out to her max. Her family being hurt because of her, her mom unable to walk for the next few weeks is all because of her. Only cause she cannot complete this task she brought onto herself. As if being in danger because of Won-Shik and Bangtan wasn’t enough beforehand, she just made things worse all in all. There is no way out of this for her and her family. So it’s time to just accept it and say goodbye to it all and start a new life.

“ I’ll find her. You wait at the base and I’ll report back to you guys after I find her. When I do, you will come and finish your damn task Namjoon. Do you hear me?” Jungkook’s beyond pissed at this point. If it wasn’t for him, the boys would be lost as fuck without him.

He shoots Casper a text, letting him know that he is to follow him closely as he searches for her. To his luck, Casper was already outside his apartment building in his car. Not long after he pops those contacts in and changes his outfit again, he’s cruising the streets of Seoul in his midnight purple lamborghini.

The pain in his shoulder throbs with each turn he has to make with the wheel of his car. A little pain medicine would of helped beforehand, but rushing to get this shit over with was more important. This bitch definately has it coming. It’s been taking Jungkook these past few days to not just up and kill her. No that would just be too easy. Torture and marinating her to lose her shit at the last minute is something so satisfying to him.

The streets of Seoul soon end behind him and the Mappo Bridge comes into view. It had been an a whole hour searching around the areas of where she could’ve been, including where she was last seen. No sights of her at all. She’s good at this for sure. Text messages are sent back and forth between the boys and Jungkook. They’re all on edge, tired, and frustrated at this chasing game that they’re all playing.

He’d almost missed it. The body walking alongside the side-walk of the bridge with their head hanging low and hoodie on. It’s the hoodie of his school, but most importantly it has their class graduation year on it. It has to be her. Jungkook flashes his hazard lights on, letting Casper know to pull over with him.

It’s now or never.

After sending the text to Namjoon, he’s out the car and jogging towards the suspect. Height, body type, and shoes match the alleged identity. It seems she’s too into something to notice the extra footsteps behind her. He can’t do anything to her though, it’s not his night.

“ Kang Minlee.”

She stops dead in her tracks as if a ghost had called her name. Frozen, she stands there contemplating on running or staying. If she runs, she’s dead. If she stays, shes dead.

“ You think..” He pauses, grabbing her arm and turning her around to face him. Her face is red from crying and her glasses all fogged up from underneath her mask. For a split second, Jungkook does feel regret.

Killing a classmate of his wasn’t something he’d ideally let happen. But it’s far too late to not have her killed off. “ You think that running away is the best option?”

Minlee trembles underneath his grip, “ I made a mistake. Please just let me go. Let me and my family go and we’ll leave you alone forever.” She breaks down into tears, placing her hand over his in attempt to let her go.

It didn’t hurt Jungkook to see her like this. All in all it just feels weird to him. Weird to have one of his classmates begging for her life to be spared from the gruesome events to come.

“ You know I can’t do that.” It honestly can’t be an option at this point. It’d be better to just continue out her days of hell with her family. “ You came for me, that means you die.”

Finally she jerks her arm back from his still in tears as she starts to back away slowly. Jungkook knew that she wouldn’t run. Not in this case. Letting her cry it out was the best way, hell it’s the only way because Namjoon would be here any minute to brand her. It would mean she belonged to Bangtan after that, and she’d have to keep quiet as they planned out her death.

Her sudden movement from the ground to climbing up the railing of the bridge alarms Jungkook. She cries louder when Jungkook comes closer to getting her down so he stops. Suicide? Right now? What happened to being all big and bold? It confuses Jungkook as to why she would take her own life right now. Either way she’d still end up dead and unhappy if Bangtan would kill her or she’d kill herself.

“ Jungkook!” She semi-yells, pointing to the direction behind him as another guy approaches them. Just in time, the sound of Namjoon’s car can be heard from afar. He’s getting close.

The guy she’s pointed to is Casper, who’s also alarmed at the fact that she’s close to the edge right now. Jungkook holds his hand up at Casper for him to stop right there and shakes his head, meaning that it’s too risky for Casper to step in right now. Casper nods and Jungkooks turns back to the scene.

“ Don’t you think that I’ve suffered enough? Everyday you guys give me hell. My mom can’t walk because of you guys, and my dad has health issues. You left us in the dust when we needed your support the most! I was almost put up for adoption a year ago because of you!” She sobs, wiping her never ending tears with her hoodie sleeves.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say, or do. It’s not like him to have sympathy over a rival. It’s just not in him at this very moment.

Minlee continues on, “ Yn? She took what’s mine. My Sungmin. She plays with his heart and it hurts him a lot. I wouldn’t have did that. But no, he’s head over heels in love with him. I got left in the dust when she came along and it looks like everyone loves her, including you Jungkook. My friendgroup does anything and everything she wants because she’s just oh so little miss perfect. That was supposed to be me!”

There it is. The jealousy. Jungkook would have never known it. It’s all news and shock to him. Sungmin and Minlee? Didn’t seem like a match to begin with.

Her dramatic meltdown continues on, but Jungkook allows it. Namjoon will be here any minute to sneakily get her down. Where is he and why the hell is he taking so long?

As if on cue, Namjoon pulls up to the scene and immediately gets out his car running towards the girl. Jungkook waves his hands for him to stop, eyes wide with a finger to his lips. The last thing he wanted was for the girl to jump. A death from their school? Surely was to be put on him and his boys.

Namjoon stops infront of Jungkook’s car, confused as to what’s going on. Jungkook mouthes to him the words suicide attempt. That’s when Namjoon gets it and decides to let him handle getting her down.

“ Yeah it was meant to be you. But I plan to take Yn away anyways. Then you and Sungmin could come together again.” Jungkook’s convincing isn’t convincing enough, she doesn’t buy it at all.

“ If I get down I’m going to die. There is no escaping that within the next few days i’d be dead in your hands. I made a mistake and there is no going back. Spare my parents. Let them live. I’m the one that started this. I’ll be the one to finish it.”

The girl lifts one foot off the railing and leans backwards. Jungkook’s breath hitches along with Namjoons. No. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

“ Kang Minlee!” They both scream, running towards her. It’s too late though. Her body falls gracefully down as all three of them watch over the railing. She looks peaceful, a smile on her face while her body is sprawled out in the air.

Inches before she hits the water, the three of the boys look away with only the sound of dense water splashing to fill their ears. Namjoon sighs, putting his hands against his head. Jungkook stands there in complete shock. Casper, well Casper just shakes his head knowing the two boys weren’t prepared for that.

“ We fucked up Jungkook.”

“ I fucking know that Namjoon.” His voice cracks. It isn’t like Jungkook to cry. No not at all. Especially for a target like that. At the end of the day she was human and she did what any daughter would do for her family.

She was also your friend.

You hadn’t heard about her death yet the next day. It’s a normal saturday morning for you. This time you’d decided to go to the cafe with your laptop and write your essay for your Psychology class. The cafe is nice, it’s cat themed and has some pretty kittens running around the outside of the kitchen and customer service area.

As soon as you order and sit down with your Caramel frappe you spot a white kitten laying near you on the floor. A smile comes upon your face when it comes to you when you call for it. They don’t have these in Canada. Cat Cafes. The kitten lets out his purrs when you rub his back as he lays across your lap. The nametag says Mochi, a cute name for a cute kitten.

Minutes seem to pass by without your knowledge. You’d been too into typing to hear the news on the tv being broadcasted live. It wasn’t until you heard suicide of a teenage student on Mappo Bridge. That got your attention.

You listen carefully as the news reporter goes into detail of how the body was found. It had gotten caught on a rock as the stream moved it around. A mother had found it with her kid as they walked across the bridge that early morning to look at beautiful water. It saddens you to know someone took their life. Maybe if that person had access to getting help, they’d live to see many more days.

When they announce the name and show a school picture of the student, the look on your face drops.

Minlee. It’s Minlee on the screen. Its all too much for you right now. Your stomach twists and turns along with your hands that begin fidgeting. She seemed so healthy and happy these past few days when you saw her. It didn’t add up. It wasn’t going to ever add up to you that you had just lost one of your new friends.

Packing your things up in a hurry, your phone begins to go off with a bunch of text messages at a time. You know it could be the groupchat. What you wanted to the most right now, is to go home to cry and calm down. You shove everything in your backpack and place the kitten back on the floor nicely before taking off towards the door. You bump into somebody on the way out, causing them to drop a picture in their hand. The two of you both reach to pick it up, but they pick it up first before you.

“ I’m sorr-”

You’ve seen her before. Long curled hair, big dimple on her left cheek, and bangs.

There’s no fucking way.

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writing-in-lesbian · 3 years ago

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You wanted to sleep with a Goddess but instead had to settle for a priestess. Pt3

Chapter 3 - the goddess inside the priestess Pairing: Yelena Belova / Female reader Tags: angst, fluff, minor violence (someone gets slapped) cursing words. Translations: Pridurok = jerk // Detka = baby // Moya lyubov = my love. Synopsis: the group organizes a small party to celebrate your engagement, but one jealous person is the only thing need it to start the storm… A/N: I like Sharon honestly, so sorry in advance for the way I treat her here! Chapter 1 // Chapter 2

The alarm on your phone rings exactly at 5:30 am the next day. This time Yelena actually stops it before continuing kissing you making you smile into the kiss.

“Someone is happy”

“Don’t tempt me” she places one more kiss before placing her head back in your chest, her fingers brushing the base of your breasts.

You lay there, contemplating the events of last night, taking your celebration way into the night or into the new day, depending on how you wanted to see it. You try to stretch the peace and calm you feel but you both know you have to face the world. Yelena is the first one to get up, stretching her body, she then looks at you and extends her hand, you take her without a doubt and let her drag you to the bath.

After your shower you get downstairs to start on a quick breakfast, just a couple of banana smoothies with oatmeal to sustain you until mid-morning. Turning on the coffee machine, you decide to take a look at your phone.

17 missed calls (6 from Natasha, 4 from Tony, 5 from Melina, 1 from Alexei, which you think was Melina trying to get you to pick up, and 1 from Bucky) 12 voice mails - you’re actually afraid of listening to them. 148 texts on your friend's group chat - you’ll read them on your break. 23 texts from Natasha. 47 texts from Tony. 9 texts from the in-laws.

Honestly, you weren’t sure if you should feel relieved or not.

“Your phone is also going crazy with the number of notifications?” Yelena says entering the kitchen and grabbing a cup before pouring coffee for her, taking a sip before doing the same for you.

“Something like it. Yours?”

“Just a few missed calls from my mama and Nat, but I saw the group chat so I figured your was worse”

“How come you only get a few missed calls and I get 17?”

“I’m the baby sister and daughter you are stealing away and marrying”

“Touché”

You grab Yelena’s left hand admiring the ring. It looks perfect. You kiss her before grabbing your smoothie. Just before you can even take a sip, your phone rings.

“My sister’s calling” Yelena’s sweet voice sing songs to you.

Nothing better than the present right? You think before answering putting her on speakerphone

“Finally you decide to pick up your damn phone after sending that picture last night y/l/n, the nerve you have”

“Good morning to you Natasha, I’m good thank you and you?”

“Cut the crap asshole-”

Yelena snickers behind you, making Natasha stop mid-sentence

“Am I on speakerphone?”

It’s Yelena now the one addressing her sister, giving you time to drink your smoothie.

“Yes sister, and to answer your question we were kinda busy celebrating last night, you know me giving the best orgasm to y/n/ thanking her for the amazing ring she gave me, so forgive us for not answering”

You choke.

“Ugh! I didn’t need to know that”

Yelena gives you an unamused look but pats your back lightly.

“Now you know. So if you’re calling to congratulate us please carry on”

“I… well yeah, of course! Congratulations you two!”

“Thank you Tasha” you say coughing.

“Just a heads up, Tony and Melina are really unimpressed with you Y/N”

“I’ll deal with them later”

Your phone buzz with incoming texts and a second call.

“Or now. Call you later Nat?”

“You better do”

And hangs up. Yelena places your phone back on the kitchen counter telling you to ignore it for a little more time. You get distracted with her lips and before you know you’re out and on your way to work. Before going into your office, the security guard at your building informs you your brother is waiting for you, which is odd since you don’t have a brother. Your brain is still riding the events from last night to connect the dots and before you can process it further, Tony is outside your door.

“I’m disappointed kid”

“Tony, good morning, always nice to see you this early over here” you say opening the door and entering your office, Tony right behind you.

“I had to, you refused to answer my calls which I imagine was because you were busy celebrating with your fiancée, congratulations by the way, but you owe me a proposing/engagement party”

“You weren’t invited to the proposing one in the first place, you were just going to help me set up and then leave…” you take a seat behind your desk, turning on your laptop.

“Rude”

You watch Tony, standing close to the door. He watches you with a proud smile.

“You did good kid”

“Thanks” you say dropping your eyes to your hands. Tony and you have a close relationship, but you still don’t know how to take compliments.

“Anyway, I have to go but tonight, 7 pm, celebration party at my house. Drinks are on me and don’t worry, nothing crazy, Potts wouldn’t let me do it, apparently tomorrow you guys still have to work, crazy uh?. Dress fancy and bring the angry koala with you”

He doesn’t wait for a reply and just leaves. Seriously, you need to start hanging out with people with better manners.

A text message makes your phone buzz

Lena 💕 Tasha just told me we have a party to attend tonight at Tony’s apparently.

Y/N Pridurok 😜 Apparently

Lena 💕 And are we going?

Y/N Pridurok 😜 Apparently

Lena 💕 Get ready to be teased detka

Y/N Pridurok 😜 Don’t remind me. Pick you up at 7?

Lena 💕 Isn’t at 7 the party?

Y/N Pridurok 😜 Yeah, but is in our honor so we can be fashionable late

Lena 💕 You leave work at 5 pridurok and we live together so…

Y/N Pridurok 😜 Right! Okey so thats still a no at arriving late?

Lena 💕 Will see. Now get back to work xoxo LY

Y/N Pridurok 😜 Love you too.

Boy, you would regret attending the party.

// //

You arrived 7:45 pm at your own party just in time before anyone could be mad at you. The scarf around your neck in order to cover the hickey Yelena did just moments before, told anyone in the room the exact reason why you were late. Safe to say you give them enough material to tease you endlessly.

For once Tony kept his word and it was just a quiet evening. Your close friends were there, Carol, Wanda and her new sextoy, a guy named Vis (you didn’t pay much attention), Clint, Bucky, Nat, Sam, Thor (honestly, you think his parents kinda hated him, who name his son like that?), Maria and her on-again-off-again girl Sharon (an acquaintance at best from your school days), and of course Tony and Pepper. Bruce was sick at home and Steve texted you to say he couldn’t make it, something about Peggy being tired. Whipped.

The night was quiet and relaxing, everybody was doing small talk while eating. Wine and champagne were served to celebrate. After a while, Tony brought a cake (because it’s not a proper celebration without cake) and more wine. You opted to get a cup of coffee.

Yelena was with you in the kitchen, her arms around your back, her chin on your shoulder. It was a little bit tricky pouring the coffee but you didn’t mind it.

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Like 2 times today”

“Well, make it 3 now. I love you y/l/n”

“And I love you Belova”

“You need a ring” She says it so quietly, you only hear her ‘cause she’s so close to your ear. You turn in her arms to look at her. Her stronghold anchoring you.

“I, I didn’t think about it. You know it’s okay if you don’t give me one, right?”

She doesn’t say anything and avoids your gaze. You grab her chin until she looks at you.

“I’m okay babe. It’s okay”

“But I want to give you one”

You peck her lips, before resting your forehead on hers.

“If you want, then I’m happy with it detka”

“I love it when you speak Russian”

“I just learned a few words love, but maybe one day I’ll surprise you”

She laughs at you. A cough is heard so you both turn towards the kitchen entrance. Carol is standing there with a smirk on her face.

“I was sent to check up on you two. Make sure you weren’t christening Tony’s kitchen”

“Jesus Danvers!” Yelena passed her leaving you there, red as a tomato.

“It suits you y/l/n”

“What?” you ask before you sip your coffee. You turn towards Carol, you guys kinda had a thing in college but remained good friends after it.

“Being in love. It suits you and I’m happy for you”

“Thanks Vers”

She crosses the kitchen and gives you a hug. You always felt safe in her embrace before Yelena arrived in your life. You rest your head on her shoulder, without noticing the blue eyes following every movement.

Once you return to the living room, everyone is gathered around the table, waiting exactly for you to arrive. Yelena opens her arms at you and you smile happily

“Good, now that you are here, care to explain how you propose? I mean you kinda ruined the plan?”

“Jeez, thanks Tony” you said before throwing a cushion at him.

“What plan?” asks Yelena while looking at you.

“I was going to propose during our anniversary dinner and Tony was helping me prepare it”

“Kid, it wasn’t just “preparing it”, I had all the treasure hunt ready. I even was organizing a drone display, but you threw it out the window”

“A treasure hunt?” Natasha asks surprised. She didn’t know what were you planning for the anniversary, no reason why Yelena was anxious to know. You never knew how to keep a secret, except for this apparently.

“Well, yeah”

“I want my treasure hunt now pridurok”

Everybody laughs and you promise her she’ll have it but you’ll need to change the final spot. Tony grunts in displeasure. Soon everybody reminds you to tell them the story so you comply. Enough to say that they thought it was better the way you did it. Yelena was a reserved person so maybe having a big display of affection wouldn’t have been the best idea, at the end of the day, what mattered was Yelena saying yes to you, no matter how you asked.

It was then, that Sharon decided to throw a question that would start the storm. You quite never liked her. It seemed like a goody-two-shoes ready to stab you in the back when you no longer served her purposes. The fact that on one of the “off-again” times with Hill she made a move on Yelena didn’t go well with you.

“So, how do you started dating?”

Everybody went silent. They all knew you kept it secret before telling the group, you both told them it was because you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but they never know the whole story.

“What do you mean?” You looked at her, no emotions on your face. Trying to gauge her intentions.

“Yeah, you know. How did it happen? You couldn’t wake up one day and think hey I’m going to date my best friend little sister”

“Carter” it was Maria’s voice, a warning in her tone.

“She’s right thou, you have never mentioned Y/N, now that’s just rude” Wanda teases you, but you can see everybody is curious.

You turn to look a Yelena and she just shrugs, the decision is yours. And at that moment, the exact events of that night replay in your mind and you feel a pit in your stomach. If you keep quiet, you know Yelena and Natasha will start asking questions. Why don’t say anything if there’s nothing to hide right? So you opt to say as much as you can without having to lie.

“It was at Steve’s wedding”

A chorus of whats and no ways can be heard through the room. Natasha found out 4.5 months after that day. The rest of the group did it 2 weeks after Natasha knew. And now that you opened that door, it was better to follow through.

“Okey, okay. Fine! I was having a rough night okay? I was kinda feeling nostalgic watching Steve and Peggy dance the night away, so in love, in their own little world and I was just thinking how it has been a while since I had a relationship. What if I never found what they had?”

“Weren’t you the have them, leave them kind of girl Y/N? Why would you want that then?” The look Maria gives Sharon after, has the room silent. She’s up to something, she knows something that not everyone knows. You’re just hoping is not what you’re thinking.

“Was. In college. Once I grew out of it, never went back to those ways”

“Funny” honestly, what game is Sharon playing at? She’s trying to deal you with shitty cards.

“Anyway. You were saying Y/N?”

“Thanks Bucky. As I was saying, I had this feeling of longing. So, stupidly I thought the best way was to drink it away, but Carol here wasn’t having any of it, dragging me to dance with her and Nat. After a while, I was thirsty so I went for a drink, the bartender talked me up to try a new cocktail but after a few drinks I felt dizzy so I left in order to have some air. When I came out I saw Yelena sitting at the stairs admiring the night. I asked her if I could sit and we started talking and…”

“We hooked up” Yelena abruptly says.

“WHAT?” you cringe hearing Natasha’s voice. “So you had a one-night stand with my sister?”

“Not exactly. I mean at first, we thought we should leave it at that, but when I went home I just couldn’t stop thinking of her so I texted her to hang out”

“And hooking up”

“Babe!”

“It’s true, isn’t it? At least that’s why I texted you too”

She rubs small circles in your leg with her hand. You get lost in her eyes that barely listen to what Sharon is saying.

“Cute. Now tell the real person you went out looking for Y/N”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you talking with the bartender that night, and you were asking for a very specific person. So tell us Y/N, who was hot enough to have your attention that night?”

“Is it true detka?”

“Yelena”

“Y/N who were you looking for that night?”

You knew coming to this party was a bad idea. You didn’t remember Sharon that night. Honestly you knew she always hated you but never knew why. Maybe it was the fact you never took her flirting seriously in high school or maybe it was the fact that she was also Carol’s ex. Now you know it was a dangerous combination of the two. You should have listened to your gut.

“I…” it’s hard to swallow. The room is silent, You feel everyone’s eyes on you. Natasha and Yelena staring. You take a deep breath.

“Carol. I was looking for Carol”

Yelena’s hand stops her movements on your leg. Carol just looks at you, her eyes surprised a little. Natasha is serious. You see, even when you hadn’t had anything in more than 5 years, Yelena wasn’t a big fan of Carol. She knew about your history, agreeing on being honest about past partners when you started dating. Don’t know if it was the best or worst thing but honesty was important for Yelena, so we agreed on that.

“Explain” Yelena’s voice is cold.

“Detka I…”

“I said explain” to anyone her voice appeared calm, but you know (and you’re sure Natasha knew as well) Yelena was trying really hard not to explode.

Sharon’s eyes are lit with happiness and she was smirking. You just wanted to get up and slap that smirk off her face.

“I’m not proud of it okay? I was feeling lonely and I just wanted sex, no strings attached and I already know Carol, so yeah I went looking up for her, but when I saw you out there-”

“So I was your second choice?”

Yelena abruptly stands up and you follow. No one in the room has said or done anything, the air around you is tense and awkward.

“NO! Never. I saw you there and any plan or idea I had disappeared from my mind”

“And you never thought about mentioning it?”

“No, because it didn’t matter!”

“It didn’t matter? It was all a lie! So if you hadn’t seen me outside, it would have been her you were marrying, not me!”

“Of course not! Yelena, do you know how grateful I am I ran into you instead of Carol that night? I love you, I’m in love with you!”

“Bullshit” she starts walking to the door.

“Yelena!” You try to follow her but she quickly turns and her hand in your chest stops you cold in your tracks.

“See? for me it was real since the beginning and now I’m just questioning everything”

“Lena, don’t make a big deal out of it because is not. Please babe!”

“It is to me okay? And now... it’s just weird, seeing her here and you, I have this mental image of you with… I mean I knew about your past with her but I dealt with it”

“Exactly baby, the past. My present is you and my future is you, please Yelena!”

“No. See Y/N, the thing is, that night you wanted to sleep with a goddess but instead had to settle for a priestess. I need… I don’t know what I need, I just need to be alone. I’m going for a walk”

She doesn’t say a word and leaves. The sound of the door slamming is enough to numb you. You try to follow her but a hand in your wrist stops you. Turning you see is Natasha’s. Her eyes are unreadable but a little soft, she subtly shakes her head. After a few seconds, she drops your wrist and grabs her things, no doubt she’s going after her sister.

“Well, that went well” it’s Sharon’s voice, full of false sweetness.

The sound of the slap is heard. You don’t know how or even when your hand connected to her face but it did.

“Shut up. Just shut up” her surprised expression does nothing to calm your anger. Maria’s trying to calm you but you can’t be calmed.

“You had no right to bring that up! So you heard me talking with someone, so what? You didn’t have a fucking clue of what happened after. What the fuck were you trying to prove right uh Carter?”

“You gave up on Carol! Why the fuck were you looking for her that night? She can do better than playing up your rebound sex!”

There it was. The underlying truth.

“You were with Maria at that time, so what did you fucking cared?”

“Because if I couldn’t have her again and be happy neither should you!” A gasp is all you hear and you look to see Maria giving Sharon the coldest look ever.

“You need to leave Sharon. I don’t want to see you again. Please fuck off”

Sam escorts Sharon out of Tony’s house before Sharon tries to even attempt to explain. Everything is getting blurred, your legs are trembling and you feel nauseous. Bucky’s hand in your back supports your weight.

You heard Sam, Clint and Thor give an awkward goodbye. Wand approaches and hugs you, trying to comfort you. You vaguely hear her ask if you’re okay and you just nod. Pepper starts cleaning and telling Tony to prepare the guest room. Maria helps her, probably as a way to distract herself. You stand up, not realizing when you sat. You can’t stay here, you need to go home and find Yelena.

Your heart and stomach ached at the thought. Should you go? She said she need it time to be alone and you want to respect her wishes. Besides Natasha is probably with her and you’re certain she wants to kill you. You should just bring her the gun. You hurt her little sister even if it never was your intention.

“Kid, you should stay here”

“I can’t Tony. I just… I want to be alone”.

“I’ll get her home safely” Bucky, your knight in shining armor. He’s a nice guy, odd at times, and shy, but you know you could always count on him. Your friendship didn’t make a lot of sense, you bonded over games and comics during your month in detention at school. You could say he was also like an older brother but it was more than that. You were best friends, platonic gay partners (so the whole romantic/lust feelings developing will never be an issue with you) the ones you know will have your back, no questions asked.

“Text me when you arrive?” Carol says. Despite everything, she’s just being a good friend. You know it. She knows it. Why Yelena can see it?

When you leave, you ask him if you can stay at his place since you know Wanda would stay with Vision. You see, he and Wanda are being roommates right now (don’t ask, it works for them) so you know you can let your feelings go without problems. Wanda would fuse motherly over you. Carol wasn’t an option at the moment and Tony would just try a) either get you really drunk (which would make you do stupid things or b) try to comfort you by talking about feelings and it’s just weird enough. Nat… well you don’t even know if you should even ask.

You text Yelena a couple of times. Just checking if she’s alright and at home, asking her to please call you. You tried to call as well but you’ve been sent straight to voicemail.

Twenty-four hours ago you were the happiest person in the world and had a fiancée and now, now you’re not sure anymore.

#yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x y/n #ao3 fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #unbeta'd #angst

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