#next up i'm getting his fucking divinate before i get him

[impala124]

Bad Buddy Ep 6

My thoughts on Ep 1 | Ep 2 | Ep 3 | Ep 4 | Ep 5

Me, at the end of this episode:

Something about the way Pran buttoned his shirt all the way up to the collar, like it's suffocating for him to share space with Pat for the first time since their rooftop kiss, is making me unwell.

Why is Pat's father on my screen? I do not like that man. He makes Pran uncomfortable and I can't allow that. Why does Pran make himself look small when interacting with Pat's dad? Is it just his way of showing respect for an elder or is there something more?

"We know how it's going to end; isn't it better not to start at all?" Pran, bestie, are we still talking about music here? It hasn't escaped me that Pran is leaving the guitar with Wai after Pat kept it with him for 3 years before returning it to Pran. I just hope Pat doesn't find out about this.

Now, What is Pran's mom deal? You're on a timeout along with Pat's dad. Go sit in the corner for a while.

Pa is a child of (PatPran's) divorce at this point. She has to put up with Pat wreaking havoc in his room with the drums.

Pa out her assuming that everyone likes Ink because she likes her. Understandable, bestie, but you're way off in this case.

Pat following Pran to the architecture faculty volunteer camp strengthens my belief that Pat is just a lost puppy following Pran around.

The irony of Pran ignoring Pat by using the earphones that Pat gave him isn't lost on me.

Pran hasn't counted on Pat's pesky persistence. I'm cheering you on, Pat; make Pran go off-kilter.

Now, let's all thank Uncle Tong for coming up with these activities at a volunteer camp and divine intervention for actually pairing them together.

PAT USED HIS HAND TO PROTECT PRAN'S HEAD FROM THE FALL.

Wai is officially on my shit list. Why is he being so damn possessive of Pran? Pran can make his own choices, and if he weren't comfortable with Pat lying on him, I can't imagine why he wouldn't be, he can take care of himself.

Pat, bestie, I love how brazen you are, and I appreciate it.

Pran saying, "Someone like him will quit bothering us when he has had enough," in relation to Pat, and Pat coming with a chair to settle between Pran and Wai is just too fucking funny.

Now, Pran is being the physical embodiment of "My having feelings for you has nothing to do with you. Don't talk to me."

Pat is using the child, Junior, as their unofficial couple's counselor.

So, the trip to the market counts as a date, right? Glad we agree on that. Even the vendor thinks that they look cute together.

PLAYING IN THE WATER TOGETHER!!! This episode is a gift that keeps on giving. The conversation by the beach.

Okay, but what did Pat do to have Pran transferred from the school? I get his anger at his mom, but what did Pat do other than be a part of the band?

I love how, although there isn't any direct mention of homophobia (yet) in the show, their (familial & faculty) rivalry, that they didn't ask for but was imposed on them, feels like an allegory for it.

Without people around, I can sit next to you just fine. But when there's other people, talking to you feels like amatter of life and death. What can we do? We were just born this way.

OMG. Their hands touched, and Pran didn't pull away!!!!

I'm not even mad about the product placements, and that's how you know the show got me hooked.

Wai and Pat sharing a room will be interesting for sure. I don't trust him, though; he looks like he's planning to hurt my boy.

I love how Pat has zero chill, just bulldozing his way to Pran.

Wai, you fucking asshole, who do you think you are?? Pran, save your man!!!

And he does. Pran's on-the-spot lore cooking skills need to be taught in school. It's a survival skill if I'm being honest. He wasn't lying, though. His first love did fall in love. WITH HIM.

Pat CAUGHT Pran's hand and stopped him from leaving. ASFFGHDGJ—

Oh, nothing to see here, just a pair of lying liars sitting by the beach and lying to each other.

Pat's face lit up like a Christmas tree when he heard Pran say It is so obvious that you like me.

Gotta love Pat's tenacity and how he maneuvered Pran into being the recipient of his flirting.

Everything's gotta be a competition with these two. However, in this scenario, both of them are going to win and have fun along the way.

Let the (flirting) games begin!!!

Pran's definition of flirting is licking Pat's finger. SIT WITH THAT INFORMATION!! Pran, my beloved, you are a fucking menace for pulling the big guns out this early in the game!!

Tagging the usual suspects: @shortpplfedup, @incandescentflower, @starryalpacasstuff, @7nessasaryevils, @greenteadumplings, @grapejuicegay, @madworld-bbs, @usodeshou. If anyone wishes to be tagged in the future, let me know.

[akuma-tenshi]

got back into dislyte recently. idk how much i'm gonna be screaming about it on here but please know i have to start from scratch bc i lost my old account and i am VERY unhappy that they still won't give me falken back

[sharkylass]

ALRIGHT, I ASKED FOREVER AGO, BUT WHO WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT MY ISA LOOPS AU??

Heads up this contains a lot, and I mean A LOT of spoilers for In Stars And Time. Including: = Act 6 spoilers, including main mystery and secret encounter = Minimal Act 5 stuff = And a bunch of extra stuff that happens through Act 3 and 4. SO BASICALLY ALMOST EVERYTHING, FINISH THIS GAME COMPLETELY BEFORE READING (ESPECIALLY THAT ACT 6 ENCOUNTER, IT WILL LITERALLY BE THE FIRST THING I MENTION UNDER THE CUT)

With all those warnings out of the way-

IN REPETITION AND CHANGE

Initial Concepts:

I feel it's important to show these sketches because they were the first ideas I ever had. I wasn't even entirely sure I wanted to make an AU at this point, I didn't even know how I'd approach it. But I started sketching and it's been on my mind since- SO! Isa is stuck in the timeloop. I know what his wish is and he DOES have a Loop equivalent! The grumpy dandelion guy is Roboro (it/they/he). Their name is a very small play on Ouroboros and they call Isa "Seedling". However, this post is not about them, as I'm gonna talk about it and Isa's dynamic in a separate post. In short, Isa is his normal loud self up until Act 3, right? They beat the King, they reach the end, and whoops, the loop isn't broken. So now, what happens is that Isa starts getting his brains out. He starts thinking more analytically and tries to problem solve.

The more stuck he gets in his head, the less he's able to perceive his friends as real people, and more like them holding him back. Because even if Isa explains that he's smart, that they shouldn't be surprised if he says something, shock of all shocks, reasonable- They'll forget it the next loop.

So Isa is stuck with trying to portray his confident, loud, supportive facade- Which is fine! It wouldn't be the first time! But it progressively gets more and more frustrating, as he tries to find answers and simply looses the energy to pretend to be stupid.

TL;DR: Isa in the timeloop, unlike Siffrin, becomes more distant and cold rather then something more akin to Sif's mania.

NOW, MORE ART!!!

KILL KILL KILL:

I imagine Isa didn't have this encounter the same way that Sif did. Yeah, frankly, Isa is pissed with the sadness- But that's not why he goes through with this.

In this moment, Isa is trying to kill two birds with one stone. He's trying to get through this quickly, as well as reassure Mira that they can do this! If he shows how strong he is, then she'll feel safe right???

Poor Isabeau forgot that whenever he shows that he thinks ahead, he scares people. How could he forget that? How could he forget that he's inherently---

Family Quest:

I still think Odile is the one to call out to him (same with sus quest).

The hangouts I'm still figuring out, cause I don't think they'd too similar to base game- But, fun fact, at the end of this run, everyone agrees to keep travel together!

Isabeau brings it up, can't hurt if you can fix your mistakes right? And everyone agrees. The relief on Siffrin is the most palpable thing Isabeau has ever seen.

In this moment they love you. In this moment they all love you. In this moment---

Death Screen:

He loops back anyways. (This is one of the initial concepts that I ended up animating. This line in particular is when he reaches the end)

Act 5 Tarot Card:

NOW TO SEE MORE OF HIS PASSIVE AGRESSIVE SIDE

Thanks to @the-bitter-ocean for prescribing tarot cards to Isa (THEY ALL FUCK SO HARD) and for the RAW ASS LINE

If interacted with in act 5, predictably, Isa tears it apart. He doesn't need the divine judgement upon him, he's faced everyone's perception his entire life.

However, he tears it methodically. Tears it once in even pieces, twice, three times, and one of the pieces once more. In a way he isn't even getting his emotions out, it's like he's actively trying to tear it apart so it stops nagging him, like he wants to shut it up. Though, the Judgement card symbolizes rebirth, absolution and inner calling. In Act 6 he'd be able to look at it and find comfort and confidence in the card.

Act 5 Mirror:

And lastly, I have the Act 5 mirror picture. I haven't quite figured out how to make the normal ones work yet, however, I couldn't let go of the idea that Isa would not want to be in the picture.

The idea of seeing himself at all makes his head hurt and his stomach squeeze. The memory haunts him as he stands to the side and says the word. He didn't think the mirror would catch him.

AAAAND THAT'S ALL THE ART STUFF FOR NOW!!

I still have quite a bit of it to post, especially about Roboro, but I'm gonna leave it here for now.

I still gotta figure out the hangouts and potentially the dagger equivalent- but I have ideas for Bad Touch, the glass equivalent, and some extra little things that didn't happen in Siffrin's loops.

I needed to yap about this, because I've been slowly stacking up ideas and writing and I needed to share it at some point- If anyone read all this and has questions and stuff I fully welcome 'em!!

[alucarddear]

Position anon again, would you please write a NSFW alphabet for Alucard? Pretty please? 🥺

Alucard N S F W Alphabet*

I'm personally offended that I haven't done this for Lulu before. Anyway, rather than just spelling out his name, I'll give you the entire alphabet. Heh. This is LONG! Your thoughts and keyboard smashes are welcome. 🤭

P.S. I go explicit and specific; read at your own risk. I also tried my best to keep it as gender-neutral as possible, so this is [Alucard x You]. However, I did have a little self-indulgent fun with W: wild card, the only section with an obvious she/her indication. Just so you know!

A: Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Aftercare is not optional to this dhampir. It's a must. It doesn't matter if you had a quick romp or a long night, he'd still take the time to treat you right, especially if he'd been rather rough with you.

Forehead kisses, soft caresses, helping clean you up—you name it and he's got it covered. It's all about making sure you feel loved, appreciated, and cared for.

Alucard is not one to just up and leave or make you feel used. In fact, it's noticeable how much more he dotes on you after actually using you up good and fucking you raw into next week. 😏

B: Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

Your neck. Let's not even pretend that Alucard doesn't gravitate towards it. As you ride him, he buries his face in the crook of your neck and nips and pecks at your throat. There's a part of him that wants to sink his fangs into you then and there and another that wants nothing more than to whisper sweet nothings against your skin as you throw your head back in bliss.

Alucard likes his hands—the way they're so large against yours; how perfectly your hands feel in his own. He likes his hands gripping your thighs or hips, his hand coming down to slap your ass, his hands caressing every inch of you. The way his hand closes around your wrist, encircling it completely as if it was made to do nothing but. The way he pushes you down with his hand on the small of your back as he prepares to take you from behind. Most of all, all of the things his hands can do to make you cum.

C: Cum (anything to do with cum)

Alucard's desire to spill his seed inside you is next to nothing sometimes. If you'd let him, he'd bury himself balls-deep and cum inside you each and every time.

He loves to make you cum, loves the way you sound—the hitching of your breath, your begging, the way you can barely keep yourself from shaking as he coaxes yet another orgasm out of you. He loves to praise you for it. "God, you're fucking beautiful," is something you hear often. It just never gets old.

D: Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

Alucard loves when you allow him to bend you over whichever way he pleases. Loves how tiny and pliable you look underneath him, adjusting and propping your arms and legs as he sees fit. Just the sight of you like that, it's enough to push him over the edge.

So, you know he draws you—you are his muse after all. You've seen his sketches. But not the ones of your beautiful, naked body. Not even the tasteful pieces he draws as you sleep. Not the ones where, try as he might, he just can't replicate how utterly divine you look when he fucks you. He's a talented artist, but nothing tops the real thing.

E: Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Is he very experienced? No. Does he know what he's doing? Hell yes. His mother was a doctor and his father is a man of science. He lives in a castle full of resources. He has deep knowledge of biology—he's got the theory down pat. Sure, he fumbled a little the first few times, but he quickly learnt how you like to be pleased.

Besides, being a dhampir, Alucard is in tune with your body's responses to his ministrations. When you're intimate, he can practically feel your heart racing, dear. He knows when you're close, can tell when he's hitting it good, need I say more?

F: Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Mastery. He sits on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor to support you sitting on top of him with your legs bent on either side of him, your feet flat on the bed. This position allows you to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss. It lets you start off slow, very intimate—with you grinding against and riding him. Once you're a little tired (or he starts growing impatient), he simply grips your hips and pounds up into you until you're a screaming wreck. His grip on your hips and his feet securely planted on the floor allows him to rut into you fast. And the view? Fucking fantastic. He loves watching you come undone like this, seeing you throw your head back and expose your throat to him. Yes.

For a quick romp, you can't go wrong with doggy style. When you're in his study and you both get a little too distracted? He’ll bend you over his desk and have his way with you.

G: Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Oh, he's very serious about giving both of you a good time, alright. He might do something that makes you giggle, sure, but for the most part it's probably accidental and not his intention. Sex with Alucard can be intimate and sweet or downright animals humping in the undergrowth (👀), no in between. He's not here for the shits and giggles, darling.

H: Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It does match. Maybe not all the time completely bare, but he keeps himself neat and tidy. Do you see his luxurious hair? He takes care of himself down there too.

I: Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Alucard loves to see you and hear you. He's considerate and goes out of his way to find what works for you. So much so he probably has ruined you for anyone else. You'll never find a more receptive lover; it’s time to accept that.

When you make sweet love, he whispers sweet nothings against your skin. He peppers kisses all over you and makes you feel like the most gorgeous being on the planet. He's not afraid to voice his thoughts out loud too, praising you and urging you on.

J: Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

You remember those naughty sketches of you? Yep. He has used them a couple times while you were away. You're in his thoughts whenever he touches himself.

K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Edging. He not-so-secretly loves it when you beg. How are you to know how much more you can take? He'll just have to show you.

When you moan his name as you grip the sheets and quake beneath him? Yeah. He loves it, especially when you can barely even make out the words for “Adrian, please, please, please.”

When you take control and ride him like your life depends on it, it does something to his brain. You on top, taking control and looking absolutely beautiful as you do so... he could cum just from the thought of it.

There is a part of him that likes the thought of cumming deep inside you and breeding you. Maybe it's that loneliness that sometimes nags at him, maybe he yearns for a family, but he can't lie this feels utterly divine.

L: Location (favourite places to do the do)

The bed is cliche, but it works and is comfortable. Your kitchen counter, desk, against the wall or a tree, table, or out at some secluded clearing by the lake... Alucard is truly not that picky, as long as you're not out in the public for other eyes to see and you’re both comfortable.

M: Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your reactions and enthusiasm. Knowing you're into it just as much as he is.

When you sashay towards him, crooking your finger at him to beckon him closer? He's right there with you in a heartbeat.

When you wear his shirt and it swallows your smaller frame? It turns him on more than he lets on.

When you moan his name and gasp and writhe in pleasure. When you beg for him to take you harder, faster, and deeper. It just about short-circuits his brain.

N: No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any form of bondage or restrictions to his movement. It brings up unnecessary trauma and makes him feel that he's not in control or safe. He is mostly a switch, sure, letting you take control and dominate too, but tying him up is just a no-go for him.

He won't transform into a wolf. It's practically bestiality, which he's not down for.

Somnophilia or any other act where consent can be dubious. He's just big on consent and trust, for obvious reasons.

O: Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves having absolute control over your pleasure, knowing it's him coaxing the sighs and moans and screams out of you. He enjoys how easily he can make you cum and drive you mad.

That said, he also loves watching you pleasure him, taking as much of his hard length as you can, especially whenever you greedily swallow his load.

P: Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends. Sex can be whatever it needs to be in the moment. While he loves nothing more than to take his time and make sweet love to you, he also loves ravaging you and leaving you utterly spent. It's satisfying either way.

The usual case is he begins slowly and sensually, but by the end of it (and sometimes without warning), he's rutting into you like his life depends on it.

Q: Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn't above having a quickie if that is all time permits, but he would really much rather have his way with you properly!

R: Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Given that he's a dhampir, he knows exactly how to go unseen or unnoticed. It's likely his risk assessment is much more honed. You might think you're being risky, but he is well aware of the chances of you getting caught in the act.

As for experimenting—other than his hard reservations (the ones listed in N), he is game to experiment and try different things you may be curious about as long as you both feel safe and comfortable about them.

S: Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's a dhampir... need I say more? The chances of you exhausting him first is little. Sorry to burst your bubble. 😆 He's got stamina for days, honey.

T: Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Alucard is not above using toys to pleasure you. But what can a toy do that he can't do better? Hah. Chances are he will attempt to learn how it pleases you and try to replicate that with his own cock, mouth, and hands.

U: Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can be such a little tease. You know the way he banters. That snark and sass can sometimes make their way inside the bedroom too.

"What was that, darling?" he'd ask, as if his amazing sense of hearing wasn't enough to register your begging as he edges you for the nth time. "Tsk. Patience, my love..." he would even dare chide you!

Alucard also loves to glide his fangs over your skin, just enough to leave a faint mark but not enough to draw blood.

V: Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not shy to let you know he’s having a good time, but he’s also not overly loud. He gasps, moans, and curses, a tight-lipped “Fuck!” slipping out once in a while.

W: Wild card (a random headcanon)

He loves to praise you. His way of talking dirty is to let you know how good you feel around him. How ethereal you are, how perfect for him, how you taste so sweet.

He encourages you as he pushes you over the limit. “Yes, yes, darling, you can take it. Cum for me,” he would say. He’d place a kiss on your open mouth as you convulse around him as he rips yet another orgasm out of you. “My sweet darling,” he would groan, wiping the sweat off your brow. “How perfect you are. Good girl.” And just like that, he’s about to do it all over again. RIP. 😫

X: X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s active and it shows. He’s well built without being overly bulky. It suits him—muscular/toned yet elegant and lean.

He’s packing a just-about-above average penis, but nothing you cannot handle. The man’s over six foot, it just fits.

Y: Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Alucard is the type to yearn and pine, so set the volume level up cause he cannot get enough of you. Enough said.

Z: Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sometimes you drift off to sleep together, but you usually fall asleep first.

He’s a night owl. He’d take you in his arms and stroke your hair as you sleep, admiring the way you glow under the moonlight, and wonder how he got so lucky to have found you. 🤍🌙

[soft-pine]

when i think about this scene from 15.15 it makes me want to chew glass and tear up the walls in rage.

AMARA: I wanted two things for you, Dean. I wanted you to see that your mother was just a person, that the myth you'd held onto for so long of a better life, a life where she lived, was just that, a myth. I wanted you to see that the real, complicated Mary was better than your childhood dream because she was real. That now is always better than then. That you could finally start to accept your life.

for the record i want to say i am a known amara-hater. don't like the non-con shit. don't like that she's doing what so many beings in spn do and narrativizing dean's life back at him while judging him because she drew the wrong conclusions. but i think fandom does have a tendency to take those claims at face value because that is easier than combing back through to check if it's correct or not. (see for example, rachel saying dean only calls cas when he needs him in 6.18. narrativizing, incorrectly. but i digress)

so let's talk about mary. because, through the seething rage, i think two main things about this claim. 1. dean does not have this mythos around mary and 2. mary has arguably more of that mythos around dean.

first off, we'll tackle the claim that it's a myth that if mary hadn't died, dean wouldn't have a better life. because that is absolute, utter, dogshit. OF COURSE HE'D HAVE A BETTER LIFE. while i will always maintain that clearly mary and john were far from stable before she died, her death was what speared john forward into hunting, into turning his kids into soldiers, into neglect and parentifying, and every other god forsaken thing he did. "a better life, a life where she lived, was just that, a myth" - girl, i DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE DIVINE, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

like please don't come here acting like dean grieving the future he could have had that didn't include him taking care of his younger brother alone in motel rooms for days while maybe actually being left as bait for the Kid-Eater is a character flaw on his part that he needs to learn better from.

next, amara claims dean needs to see the "real, complicated Mary."

but hasn't he? dean goes back in time and meets his mom in 4.03 and 5.13. and both times he treats her both as a competent hunter and a colleague. like to be clear, before that, i dont think he was wrong to be relying on a four-year-old's memory of what his mom was like because that's literally all he had access to. but dean actually did meet and interact with the whole, complex woman who was his mother long before amara decided to teach him a lesson with her as the homework. in both 4.03 and 5.13, dean tries to give mary advice to save her life but he doesn't belittle her experience hunting or her desire to leave and life a normal life. i don't know what more you want from him in terms of interacting with his mom as a whole, real, complex person?

this also applies wholly and completely to his interactions with her when she returns in s12. he apologizes for being nervous for her safety (AFTER SHE WAS JUST RESSURECTED) at first. mary says she wants to hunt, dean gets on board. mary says she needs space, dean asks clarifying questions to best support her request. he gets mad at her not for being who she is or needing what she needs but for lying to him for months and working with people who tortured him and sam.

in fact, s12 is what i would point to to indicate how well dean articulates and navigates the nuance of being hurt by someone's actions while still understanding and empathizing with why they did it and forgiving them. for example, he says this in 12.04

DEAN: This whole mom thing, it's... I mean, we get her back, and then she leaves. I hate it, but I get it. I do. I guess I'm just...still working through some of that crap. I'll try to be less of a dick about it.

[you're not a dick, dean, ilu]

in fact, dean's much maligned "how 'bout for once, you just try to be a mom?" isn't even about dean wanting anything particularly maternal from mary. it's about him not wanting her to ditch them to hunt alone and/or with the aforementioned torturers.

so circling back to amara's speech about expectations and myths. cause while her words do not apply to dean. amara's speech does remind me of something that happens upon mary's return in s12. these lines from 12.03:

DEAN: Mom, it's okay. All right? You're home now. MARY: No. I'm not. I miss John. I miss my boys. SAM: We're right here, mom. MARY: I know. In my head. But I'm still mourning them as I knew them. My baby Sam. My little boy Dean. Just feels like yesterday, we were together in heaven, and now...I'm her, and John is gone, and they're gone. And every moment I spend with you reminds me every moment I lost with them.

of course she has every right to grieve the time she lost with her kids. but someone in this room is having trouble really looking at the people in front of them because of their idealized memory of who they were compared to are and It Is Not Dean.

and i just think about dean's speech in 12.22. cause it wasn't dean that needed to see the real mary. it was mary, tucked away in her dream world where sam is a baby and dean is a little elementary schooler who likes pie and has never held a gun, who needed to see the real dean.

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter six

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): 18+ content, light smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, mentions of curses and dark magic

series masterlist; previous part; next part

You both silently stared at eachother, surrounded by the knickknacks in the Room of Requirement.

"You look like you're thinking awfully hard." you say in a teasing whisper.

"I'm trying to figure out if that really just happened, or if the weed has fogged up my brain." he replies in with a huffed laugh. You laugh and step a little closer to him so that you're chest to chest and you stare up into his eyes as you smile. Gods, he was so fucking tall.

I can assure you, it was very real.

He smirked.

So you wouldn't mind if I did it again?

He kissed you with fervour. You felt insatiable; you felt like an addict, longing for more of his touch.

Mattheo. He groaned when you mentally whined his name.

You sound so pretty, sweetheart.

His hands trailed from your hips to your shoulders, until they cradled your face, bringing you even closer so he could deepen the kiss. Then, almost as if he didn't know where to settle them, his hands trailed back down, past your hips to the curve of your bum, cupping the underside of your thighs.

"Jump for me." he mumbles as his grip tightens. You do as he says and he brings your face to his level, causing your arms to briefly squeeze at his shoulders before you loosen them and bring your palms to cradle his face, angling your's to a better position. He groans, moving his lips to the long column of your neck; you tilt your head to the side to give him more access.

You drive me mad, sweetheart. Gods I don't think I'll ever be able to stop.

Then don't. You whimper as his teeth graze a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

"Tell me you want this." he mumbles, licking and sucking at your sensitive skin.

"I want this- Gods I want you so badly." your reply is delayed as you lose yourself in the euphoric feeling of him. Suddenly you're spun around and dropped, rather unceremoniously, on the plush velvet cushions of the chaise lounge that Mattheo was utilising before you came in; he was towering over you, leaning on his strong forearms that were positioned on either side of your head.

He presses forward and kisses your lips softly, gently trailing them down your chin, to your neck, his body moving to hover over your's so that his hands could toy with the fabric of your blue and bronze tie. Silently asking if he can remove the obstacle in the form of your school uniform and you happily oblige, shoving away at your robe sleeves as he meticulously undoes the knot of your tie. You repeat the same motion with the emerald and silver tie donning his collar and fight to remove the buttons from the holes of his shirt which leaves an open view of his stunningly sculpted abdominals that ripple against supple, tanned skin.

Patience, sweetheart. He says, his voice echoing in every crevice of your mind. Smooth and silky like honey.

He kisses you again before his mouth travels south, his fingers deftly removing your arms from the sleeves of your shirt once he got the buttons undone.

"Gods. You're a criminal for hiding all of this from me, sweetheart." He mumbles into the skin of your collarbone, onyx eyes staring up at you under his long lashes, desire deepening steadily.

You furrow your brows. "What?"

He sucks a deep mark into your skin before soothing it with his tongue.

"Your body is divine, Meadow." he groans as he kisses along the strap of your bra, one hand travelling behind your back and lifting your body up, with your help, so that he can unclip it, with unsurprisingly accurate precision.

Mattheo moves even further down your body, hands beginning to massage the sensitive skin of your thighs as he spreads them apart, flipping the fabric of your skirt up. He's pressing kisses at your naval now, following a path from the bottom of your belly button to the edge of your panties. He huffs a laugh at the fact that you had coincidentally decided on wearing a lacy dark green pair that day.

Piss off. Your voice is a low grumble in the forefront of his mind, which only makes him laugh more. But he sobers quickly, pressing a kiss to where your clit sits under the cover of your panties. He teases you like that for a long minute: presses kisses to and massages the sensitive area, watching you with hawk-like eyes as you squirm under his hold.

Your whines and moans spurred him on, so he continued until you were practically begging for him to do something...anything more.

"What's the magic word, sweetheart?" he teases, his voice a low, taunting rasp.

"Please." you mumble with a whimper. Matt-"

That's seemingly all it takes for his resolve to crack and he practically tears the underwear from your body, throwing up somewhere behind him. Immediately, he buries his face in your core, using his tongue to lap up the wetness that had begun to pool there, thumb brushing sensually against your clit.

Gods. You're so wet. 'S this all for me? You can't see his expression from where he's devouring you whole, but you can feel and hear the smirk in his voice.

"Yes!" He was so good. So effortlessly good that you didn't know if you'd exclaimed out loud or in your head. It was so overwhelmingly good.

He lapped at your centre like you were the first meal he'd had in days, and when you felt a familiar tightening in your core, he seemed to become more feral, transcending from a man starved, to something entirely more alluring.

When he used two of his fingers to scissor you open while his thumb nimbly rubbed fast circles on your clit, you came with a shout, curling over his body, and yanking at the mop of unruly black curls atop his head. He groaned and you keened from the overstimulation as he carried on, speed increasing in fervour as he kissed, sucked and licked at your most sensitive parts.

"Matt- Théo, please! T-too much! Ah!" you were reduced to a babbling and whining mess as he took his fill from you, hands tracing soothing circles against your thighs as he brought you through your climax.

When he finally relented, you were panting from exhaustion, eyes glazed with lust and skin shiny with sweat. When you looked at him, you all but melted into a puddle of desire: his mouth and chin was slick with your cum and he was slowly sucking the fingers he'd had inside you, not thirty seconds ago. Gods he was so fucking attractive.

You weren't even ashamed to be openly oggling him as he used his discarded wand to summon a couple flannels to clean you both up.

"You taste heavenly, sweetheart." he mumbles as he presses another kiss to your lips. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue. You want more. You want him.

"No. The first time I fuck you will be in a bed, sweetheart. Not some old chaise lounge in the middle of a room that anyone can walk into." he says with a smirk as you narrow your eyes at him, but your face only holds a sort of satiated amusement.

"Get out of my head, you dick." you let out an airy giggle as he flicks your forehead lightly.

It all feels so...domestic. Completely flipping what you thought you knew about him. But you suppose you'd learnt more about him in the weeks you'd spent in his presence than you had in the entire almost six years you'd been at Hogwarts.

You'd never seen this side of him before, however.

"If you tell a soul, I'll have to do unspeakable things to you." he says, smirking as he unapologetically rifles through your recent thoughts, but you find that you really don't care.

"What sort of unspeakable things?" you ask, a teasing lilt to your tone.

He only chuckles, that wicked smirk gracing his features.

"One day, you'll find out, but not today. We need to talk." The serious tone of his voice washes away any of the warm, bubbly feelings you had garnered at his response to a possible repeat of whatever had just transpired. Sobering you up from your lust-driven state immediately.

~∞~

As you both go through the motions of sorting yourselves out properly, you're relieved that the atmosphere, at the very least, isn't an awkward one. Once you're in your uniform once again, creases smoothed out, tie neat and pristine, arms folded across your chest, Mattheo guides you through the meandering trails that littered the Room of Requirement, until you come across something akin to a library – towering bookshelves and a cosy looking sofa, complete with an old mahogany coffee table.

"Sit down, Princess." he says softly, and you do as he says, watching as he walks to the nearest bookshelf and reaches for a book on a particularly high shelf, titled A History of Curses and Dark Magic, Volume Three.

"What are we going to read eachother post-coital stories now too?" you scoff with an unsatisfied scowl on your face.

"Not quite." he chuckles at your put-out expression. "I've spent the last week researching different curses and forms of detecting dark magic." He sits beside you, thigh brushing against your's. "And I think I've found out what's happening to you."

Curiously you take the book from his hand. It was old, heavy. The pages were beginning to brown and tear at the edges, the spine cracked insurmountably.

"What did you find out?" you ask, turning to look at him, to find him staring at the column of your neck, where he'd left a mirage of love bites and hickeys. You smirk as he mumbles a basic healing charm, watching the way his face sours when the marks magically fade away.

"Can you show me what happened when Dumbledore gave you the ring you told me about?" he questions, bumping his thigh to your's. "Open your your mind to that memory, like I taught you."

You do as he says, closing your eyes and allowing the vivid memory to take ahold in your mind, your own voice a distorted echo as you feel Mattheo's presence permeating the memory.

"Interesting." Dumbledore says as he pulls an old signet ring from his deep robe pocket, holding it out for you to take. You watch imperceptibly as Mattheo narrows his eyes on the ring, his ring.

"Can you tell me what you feel when you touch this, please?" Dumbledore's voice echoes in your mind. You do as he says and take the ring into your hands. Twisting it around your fingers, allowing your magic to swirl around it before it burns your fingers. You drop it in an instant. That same cold, tingling feeling you felt when Blaise rotated the necklace washed over you right afterward.

"It's cursed?" you asked, looking up at the Headmaster for confirmation, who is staring at you with knowing, inquisitive eyes.

"Something like that, yes." he says, his decaying hand twitches in response. You watch as the ring seems to vibrate in your lap, something that was amiss to you in the original moment.

You suck in a breathe when you're both forced from the memory. Mattheo is looking between you and the book curiously.

"The way your magic surrounded the ring. It's beautiful." he says. "It's one of seven, you know. I have one and the other five are in the manor."

The signet ring on his hand, that you never seemed to notice before, glints in the dim light of the room, the insignia is identical to the one in Dumbledore's possession.

"Seven rings?"

"No, seven heirlooms. Two rings and five other things that I've never been allowed to touch. They're all quite ugly actually, never had any use for them."

"I don't think the ring is ugly." you say, taking ahold of his hand to bring the ring closer to your face. "It's weird. I felt the energy in the one Dumbledore gave me the second he walked into the room, as well as in the memory itself. This one feels....lifeless."

"The book says it has something to do with different magical cores." Mattheo explains and you nod in understanding.

"You can do wandless magic just as well as you can do non-verbal magic." a statement, not a question. as if he already knows the answer and just wants to hear proof. "But wandless magic takes even the greatest witch or wizard years to master." he continues. "I've seen your development. It took you mere months to master that skill."

"Stalking me now, Riddle?" you tease, but when he doesn't entertain your jokes, your smirk drops. "What are you insinuating?"

"Where do you draw your magic from when you perform wandless magic?"

It's a bit of a taboo in the wizarding world. If you told your friends about the source of power you use, you'd surely be looked at like you were insane, specifically by Hermione who would've surely come across this sort of thing in her mountains of extracurricular reading. But you had grown frustrated when the only progress you'd made upon teaching yourself the throes of wandless magic, was lifting a quill an inch into the air for less than a second. The magic you utilised instead is highly unstable when used incorrectly, and it's borderline illegal in the minds of few people, namely those in the Ministry who specialised in Magical Cores. It teetered on the edge of unassailable power – something most people wouldn't dare mess with.

"I draw it from the air." you mumble, turning away from him, ashamed. "I know it's unconventional. I tried using my own magical core, but it never seemed to work. I did it on accident the first time, but I was successful. Then when I tried again the conventional way, it didn't work. I don't abuse the power, only borrow."

He tilts his head as realisation seems to seep into his features.

"Show me?" he asks, squeezes softly your hand with his large one that you're still holding, unconsciously.

You nod, hesitantly shifting your gaze to the book in his lap. You focus on drawing from the energy surrounding the old hardback, watching as the swirls of your magic, invisible to the boy beside you, intertwined with with potent magic supplied by the Room's core. You felt a rush of power surge through you as the book begin to levitate from Mattheo's lap, only to fly into your awaiting palm. You inhaled sharply at the prickly feeling the magic left coarsing through your veins.

"Incredible." he mumbles as he stares between his lap and the book that you now had in your grip. "And you did that using the magic in the air, not your own?"

You nod. "It always leaves a minute lasting effect afterwards, sort of like a consequence of using another magical source. There has to be a balance. If I do it too much I begin to feel a little dizzy, but I've never fainted like I did in the Wing last week."

"I was right." he mutters to himself, nodding his head, his lips quirking. You raise a brow at him.

"Care to share with the rest of the class?" you question, sarcastically.

"You're a syphon, love."

You sit there for a moment, silently contemplating his words. A syphon. A rare ability among few witches over the centuries; even rarer than a seer.

"How'd you come to that conclusion?"

"I wasn't sure until you showed me how you draw power from the air around you."

When your face drops to a confused frown he draws your body into his, lifting you so that you're sat on his lap, facing him.

"Listen. This isn't a bad thing. It's far from a bad thing. Trust me, sweetheart." he reassures. It's obvious to you that he knows something that you don't.

"What aren't you telling me?" you mumble, hands reaching to mess with the curls at the nape of his neck.

"When its safe for you to know, I'll tell you I promise. But for the sake of saving my friends-"

"And you." you interrupt, but he only shakes his head.

"For the sake of my friends, I can't tell you until the time is right."

"And when will that be? After you ghost me for another week? A month?" you sigh. "Is that what you're going to do when we walk out of here?"

He sighs deeply, his hold on your hips tightening ever so slightly as he brings you closer to him.

"That was a mistake on my part, sweetheart. You make me feel things that I was certain I wouldn't ever feel. I'm truely sorry."

He seals the apology with a long, breathtaking kiss, which momentarily leaves you unable to speak.

~∞~

Some hours later, you're sat beside Hermione at the Gryffindor table for dinner, Harry sat opposite you both. Ron was further down the table with Lavender Brown practically in his lap, the former of your friends sending poorly hidden glares his way.

"How's befriending Professor Slughorn going, Harold?" you ask, taking a sip out of your bronze goblet. After Dumbledore's visit last week, you sought out your three friends and demanded answers regarding Slughorn and Harry. But much like you, Dumbledore wasn't being as straightforward with the Chosen One as he thought he would be, especially after the miscommunication of last year, which inadvertently got Harry's Godfather killed.

"Not brilliantly." Harry mumbled as he stabbed his fork into his chicken.

Hermione scoffed.

"He's completely understating." she said. "It's going abysmally."

"Well, what methods have you used to get the information?" you ask, incredulously. How difficult was it to get information out of a man who spent his free time in the pub drinking away his sobriety?

Harry stammered as he tried to think of a reply and you balked at him.

"You didn't just outright ask him did you? Harry are you an idiot?" He gaped at you as Hermione snickered behind her goblet.

"Dumbledore showed me the half-memory that Slughorn gave him. There's a vital piece of information missing." he cringed as your face morphed into further disbelief. He knew that you knew he'd done the complete opposite of the logical thing to do.

"Don't tell me you tried to play out the memory with him, when Voldemort's own son could have been eavesdropping from fifty feet away?" you snapped, feeling entirely not guilty for dragging Mattheo's name into it. What does that say about the person you've began transitioning into?

"I'm not an idiot." he ignored your deadpan look, shaking his head he rambled on. "I sought him out after our last potions lesson, when everyone had left."

He stopped abruptly, turning to Hermione who, in turn, swivelled to face you.

"Speaking of Riddle," she started. "You weren't in the library earlier when I went to find you. Actually, I haven't seen you since after Ancient Runes after lunch."

"You're name wasn't on the map." Harry accused, eyes narrowing behind his thin wire glasses. "Riddle's wasn't either."

"Why were you in the Room of Requirement with him?" Hermione asked gently, as if she were trying to coax a misbehaving child to fess up information.

Internally, you were beginning to panic; the lies and excuses you'd been sporting for Mattheo's sake fizzling out by the seams. Your heart was irratic and you would've confessed there and then, had it not been for the calming presence of Mattheo's magical core in your mind.

What's wrong sweetheart, you look like you're going to pop a blood vessell.

Charming, Matt truly. You snark and he chuckles in your mind before his presence washes a feeling of seriousness over you.

What's wrong? He's insistent.

They're suspicious of us. Of why we were in the Come and Go room together.

How did they know about that?

That isn't important. You weren't stupid enough to give away one of Harry's best assets. What do I tell them without having to lie. I can't bare to lie again.

He's silent for a moment and you internally curse him as Harry and Hermione seem to be berating you, but you hear none of it, focusing on the pulsing of Mattheo's magic as he takes his sweet time to respond.

Tell them what you were doing. Say that you were annoyed by my avoidance; that it interrupted your schedule; that I was taking advantage of your time.

Harry was in the middle of a they-are-all-Death-Eaters spiel when you interrupted him to finally answer after what had only been a few moments.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Harry. I've been tutoring him since the start of the year. Which you both already knew." you send a look towards Hermione, who shrinks away. "He's been avoiding me all week – Rowena knows why – so I made Theo tell me where he was."

You stifled a laugh when Theo dropped his fork under the deathly glare that Mattheo sent his way.

Behave. You mentally slap him.

He smirked wickedly at you.

"He was probably doing his father's bidding." Harry spat.

"Maybe. But he needs a stellar Ancient Runes grade if he wants Theo to keep him on the Quidditch team. I'm doing Teddy a favour, nothing more." you reassure, and while it was only a half-lie, the guilt ate away at you all the same.

The pair seemed to sigh in tandem before Hermione turned to you, apology written all over her face. The guilt seemed to intensify.

"Just–" she paused, glancing over at the Slytherin table momentarily. "Just be careful will you? I don't want you to get hurt."

"I am being careful Mione, don't worry about me." you smile, but your pretty sure that, and judging by her unconvincing glance shared with your friend, she doesn't believe a word you say.

And after what happened in the Room that could grant you whatever you wished for, you weren't so believing in your resolve either.

~∞~

wasn't actually planning on writing smut this early but it kind of just happened lol this ones quite a long one, but i had a lot of things to add for the plot

sidenote; ive finally started reading acotar after its been on my tiktok fyp for time and low-key i see why i dnf'd the first time i tried reading it😭 but im speeding through it actually - im on like chapter 20 i think

taglist:

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed

[ichore]

tags: nanami kento x afab!reader, smut, reader is a simp for rin itoshi

synopsis: kento takes you to pound town while you're waiting for your take-out dinner to be delivered

Nanami Kento is the type of man who likes to take care of dinner. It doesn't matter if it's on a busy weekday or a lazy sunday afternoon, he's insistent on putting a plate full of love ahead of you before you go to bed.

However, sometimes, these love bites mean a take-out from your favorite Korean restaurant instead of his home cooked meals. Not that you mind. Not that you could when that means he has more time to have his hands occupied with you.

"The app says it's an hour until the food gets here," he says, turning the volume up on his phone before locking the screen and putting the device on the coffee table. His back smoothes against the couch while he loosens his tie as his other hand gently caresses your freshly shaven and lotioned leg. "Already took a shower without me?"

"I was feeling gross. It's hard to dress up for this terrible weather; one minute I'm freezing, the next I'm all sweaty," you explain with your head resting in your palm, wearing nothing but a crimson robe as your fiance hums in understanding. "What should we do until the food gets here? Do you want to continue Blue Lock?"

"I have a better idea," he says as his caresses become rubs on your calves. He places a tender kiss on your knee while fingerpads travel to your thighs, gingerly sinking into your flesh to have you reveal your already throbbing ache. "Can't have that green-eyed monster occupy your mind when I need you the most, can I?"

"Green-eyed monster?" you throw your head back as you laugh, and Kento almost finds it hard not to smile at his own joke when such hearty sounds leave your chest. "I'd choose you over Rin every single day, handsome,"

"You really mean that?" he mumbles against the supple flesh of your inner thigh, the edge of his teeth grazing up after he gets on his knees on the ground and pulls you closer to himself. You slowly untie your robe, letting it fall halfway off your shoulders as you arch your back. Your fingers rake through the softness of his blond hair, your breath hitches as his own tickles against your wetness.

"Mhm," you nod eagerly, your eyes getting lost in his questioning, darkened gaze. "Fuck, I'd choose you in every life,"

"I'm so glad, my love," Kento says before his tongue finally rushes across between your folds. His face gets completely buried between your thighs as each of his hands interlocks with yours, and you gasp each time he takes his tongue out of you to suck on your clit. Your ragged breathing turns into moans when he lets go of your hands to have two of his fingers inside you and his free hand teasing your hardened nipple. His upper lip and tongue focuses on your sensitive bud as his fingers fasten, hitting and massaging your sweetest spot until your walls tighten around their thickness and a gush of wetness drips out of you while you moan his name. "I love how your voice changes right before you orgasm," he says as he wipes off the mixture of his saliva and your cum with the back of his hand.

"I love you so fucking much, Kento," you whisper while you watch him unbuckle his belt; his usually pouting lips curving into a proud smile and his normally perfect hair all disheveled, falling right against his forehead - happiness looks like a divine light on Nanami Kento. And as his dick expertly slides into you and his smile turns into a groan against your lips, tears begin to gather in your eyes.

"I love you more," Kento mumbles to you in between swallowing your moans as he thrusts in and out of you, making the room fill with the fragrance of sweaty sex and the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the wet quenching of your pussy each time he pulls away. "More," he says again when his fingers wrap around your throat and the movements of his hips become harder, and you see the furrow between his brows deepen as he's edging close to his own orgasm. A sharp knot in your stomach begins to harden, the spams of your own orgasm nearly drive him mad in an instant, making him grunt and groan along, his hold tightening around your neck as you ride through your peak. "So. Much. More." each word comes with a hard thrust, sending his cum deeper with every stroke while his hand lets go of your throat, and cups your jawline. His tongue circles in your mouth as the remnants of his orgasm rush across him, and your fingers caress across his sweaty shoulders and back.

"That was amazing," you whisper when he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, earning a gentle smile from him while he entirely pulls himself out of you.

"Didn't choke you too hard, did I?" he glances at the redness that thrones on your skin while he dresses up again, and you tie back your robe.

"You were perfect, as always," you smile at him, your hair all messy and your cheeks still flushed and your lips a rosy raw from his loving. If it's not for his phone ringing, he would tell you that you are the most beautiful being he's ever laid eyes on.

Kento fixes his hair with a brush of his comb before he takes the food from the delivery man who leaves with a generous tip for having the perfect timing. But Kento cannot help, but offer a plea of a smile to you when he comes back and Rin Itoshi welcomes him on the TV screen.

[star2fishmeg]

getting married to Luke and doing that thing at the reception where your bridesmaids discreetly hand him risqué polaroid photos of you

Hi nonnie!! I have a blurb for this exact scenario, you can find it here! But you can never have too many blurbs and I like to spoil so here's Groom's Eyes Only II ;) Except in this version, he's more discreet and suffers bc of it.

In the beginning, he was fine, the polaroids were periodic and your bridesmaids did a great job at slipping them into his pockets without him knowing. They weren't lethal at that stage, hot but not dangerous, just you in divine, lacy lingerie posed all pretty for him in your shared bedroom. He was able to take a peek when he found himself alone and let the grin crawl onto his face, imagination running wild and plotting the things he'd do to you back in the hotel room.

Halfway through the reception just before food, his pockets start holding a weight only he knows about. He's found new polaroids in his pockets, and the more he finds the less clothing you have on and the more his cock throbs against his boxers. His most recent one he finds while in the bathroom and thank the heavens he was alone because if anyone else were to see that photograph of you with your hands grabbing at your bare tits for him, the 'L' necklace draped between them, he would have blown his cover. His cock twitches in his slacks, his chest becomes tight and he slips the photo into his pocket, taking deep breaths to contain himself. He's done so well so far, no pink cheeks, no stuttering and no suspicion that anything could be up and he certainly hasn't let on how unfathomably horny he is. Luke stuffs his hands into his pockets again, doing his best to readjust his slacks (and maybe himself) to look decent. He still has dinner to get through before he can devour you.

When dinner rolls around, he sits next to you at the table, you've got that glint in your eyes. The glint that only awakens when you're planning something and he knows then and there that his last polaroid is to be presented by you and he's not surprised in the slightest that now is the time you've decided to make his life difficult. You're both waiting for the guests to take their seats, your hand finds his and he's side-eyeing you as subtly as he can. You changed your outfit long ago, to a shorter dress for ease and he doesn't complain when you're dragging his fingertips along your inner thigh, the fabric rising along with them. He swallows hard, chest rising and falling in a way that's surely noticeable by now. Then he feels it. The lace, the polaroid. His final gift of the night, tucked under your white garter belt on your thigh and heat flushes through him, collar suddenly too hot and stuffy, slacks unbearably tight but he can't peel his eyes away from the polaroid displaying your nude: everything he loves about you on full display.

Your fingers gently tug on his tie, pulling him down to your level and you murmur in his ear, airy, seductive, "I'm not wearing any underwear, Lu."

The reception is over, guests are in their rooms, and you're officially Mr and Mrs Hughes. But Luke's not done with you just yet. He barely lets you close the door before his mouth's on yours, tongue asking for no permission as it laps against yours and his needy hands pry away your dress, leaving it in a pile at the bottom of the bed with his slacks and shirt. Chest to chest, you've riled him up so much throughout his own wedding day that he gives you no room to talk, only release gluttonous moans from the pits of your lungs that bounce off the walls while his hips rut and drive his cock into your sopping cunt relentlessly. He's almost chuckling at how breathless you are, clawing at his back and begging out his name with tears making your mascara stream down your cheeks. All that attitude, that minx from dinner fucked out and sprawled beneath him coated in layers of sweat and hickey's he's decorated you with so beautifully.

Yeah, it's been the best day of his life.

[fastboatsmojito]

my sweet beloved boatie!!!! congrats on 100<3 you're so deserving of it and i hope you get many more!! 💐

i've come for some filth with carl because i'm depraved so here we fuckin go my friend

19) angry sex in the middle of a fight + ❛ you want me quiet? make me. ❜

thank you xoxo -🐁

You’re so sweet :,) thank you !! <33

19 - angry sex in the middle of a fight - from this smutty prompt list! + “you want me quiet? Make me.” from this smutty dialogue list! For my 100 followers party !

| a/n; omg my first Carl req Ever I hope this does him justice 🫡

| cw; 18+ smut btc of course, fem reader (‘good girl’ used once), you’re both kinda dicks but it’s hot so it’s okay <3, smoking, Typical Shameless Shit, porn with a little plot, couch fucking in a house of peacefully sleeping gallaghers, PnV, no mention of condoms (b safe) - shocking I know, he covers your mouth for a bit, implied facefucking at the end whoops, a little brat tamer!Carl if u will >:)

| wc; 466

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

You would’ve admitted you were being a dick if he wasn’t doing the same, his head leaned back against the couch as he huffed out a cloud of smoke he’d usually direct away from you.

You could barely remember how the fight started, focused more on the pissy attitude radiating off of him as you stood with your arms crossed in front of him.

“You just gonna fuckin’ stand there all night?” He scoffed, putting the well finished cigarette out in the ashtray next to him before waving you over to sit with him.

You weren’t exactly happy but he was still Carl, and you figured you could be just as annoyed with him while comfortably sat in his lap.

The unamused expression on his face stayed when you settled into him, though his arms immediately coming around you almost gave his barely scorned attitude away.

“You wanna apologize now?” You asked, looking up at him through your lashes - still pissed enough not to kiss him even though the desire was clearly still there.

“Me? What about you?” He retorted, strong arms around you softening as he dropped his head back against the couch with a sigh.

“No fucking way.” You replied, draping your legs over his lap, elbows resting on the arm rest as you leaned away from him.

You didn’t enjoy fighting with him but he didn’t make it hard, especially when you both shared the bad habit of apologizing with actions before words.

—

And that’s exactly how you ended up bent over that same armrest - not the most comfortable position that he was holding you in. You could practically feel him in your stomach like this and the harsh hand clamped around your mouth was only adding to the fire burning within you.

“Apologize quietly.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear, moving his hand from your mouth to grip your hair instead. He had zero intention of dealing with the shit he’d get for fucking you in the living room of all places if you woke someone up.

“Make me.” You all but moaned, pouting when he pulled out of you and turned you around to face him, sitting on the same armrest you were just draped over while he meanly squished your cheeks together.

“Can’t call you a good girl if you don’t act like one, can I?” He looked divine like this, furrowed brows only making you want to piss him off more as his eyes bored into you.

He shook your head for you with his hand when you didn’t answer - tsking at you like a bad dog as he walked backwards and guided you to your knees.

“If you can’t even say sorry with that mouth I guess we’ll just have to find some other use for it.”

[bell4lan]

Friends

Genre: Smut

DNI: NON-MLM/NBLM, fujoshis, mlm/nblm fetishizers, trans fetishizers

CW: words like pussy, cunt, folds, hole, t-dick, and dick are used to describe privates, masturbating in front of each other, fingering, overstim (?), mentions of blood but its not a lot, biting, hickies, cunnilingus, after care hell yeah, ignore any errors pls i dont feel like rereading this again

Character(s)/Reader: Top Trans Male Reader x Bottom Trans Male Scaramouche

'How the fuck did I get to this moment?'

That was all you could think as your best friend was sitting on your lap making out with you while your hand was down his pants, teasing and rubbing his t-dick.

One moment you guys were arguing over which youtuber to watch for the night. The next you guys are kissing and grinding on each other, which led to you feeling up and playing with Scara's needy cunt. Your fingers slid up and down his wet folds before making direct contact with his dick, making him twitch every time.

After a few minutes of teasing, you moved your hands to his waistband and pulled off his pajama pants and underwear. His pussy was practically dripping onto your bottoms, so wet and sensitive. He looked delicious. Your hand moved back down to his soaked cunt and, slowly, you slid a finger inside of him.

"Fucking finally." He breathed out as you entered him. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sass he still had even while being touched so intimately. You slid your finger in and out before pushing in another one, making Scara moan at how full he felt. His fingers definitely didn't fill him this much, but yours were perfect. They hit the right spot as they thrusted at just the right speed. He wished you guys had done this sooner.

"You gonna cum baby?" You whispered as he got even whinier. He nodded quickly as he rested his head on your shoulder. Just as he came, he bit hard into your shoulder. Barely enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a bruise. You didn't mind though. It was kind of hot knowing he basically marked you.

You pulled your fingers out so Scara could sit properly and calm down. Your bottoms were covered in his cum and juices, as were his thighs. You held him close and ran your clean fingers through his hair until finally, he was calm. You still weren't done though. One orgasm out of him didn't satisfy you.

"Can I eat you out?" You asked as you rubbed his back. Scara sat up straight so he could look you in the eyes.

"Wh- I just came." He said.

"I want to make you cum again." Scara couldn't control the butterflies that erupted in his stomach from your words.

"Don't you want to cum too?" He asked. You shook your head.

"I'm okay with just making you feel good. That's enough to get me off." You explained. Scara just nodded before laying down on his back and parting his legs. You sat in front of him and moved your hands to the sweater you lent him, bunching it up right under his chest so his stomach is exposed. You kissed down his stomach and sides, nipping and sucking at random areas so he was marked.

Eventually, you made it down to his dripping cunt. It was even prettier up close. You just wanted to devour him. You flicked your tongue across his t-dick, making him flinch. He was so sensitive from orgasming before, this was going to be fun. You moved your tongue down to his hole and licked up to his dick, continuing this movement so you could lap up all of the cum from earlier. He tasted divine. You could stay between his legs for hours just tasting him, making him cum over and over so you could get more of him on your tongue.

Scara's hands moved to grip your hair as you licked at him, pulling it whenever you swirled your tongue on his t-dick. It was embarrassing how loud you were making him just from your tongue. He wanted to hold back his moans, but you felt too fucking good. Hearing himself whimper and whine made him feel so powerless, so submissive. It was weird, but he enjoyed it.

"Shit (Name) i-i'm cl-close." Scara warned as he gripped your hair tighter. You moved your lips up to his dick and sucked on it, making Scara let out the cutest moan. He bucked his hips into your mouth as you kept sucking him until finally, he came. Scara pulled at your hair the hardest he did all night as he came on your face, his whole body trembling from how intense it was.

You pulled your lips off of him and quickly got a towel so you could clean up. There was no saving your sheets, but you didn't care. You carefully cleaned up Scara as he was recovering from his orgasm, and got him some new bottoms to put on.

Scara fell asleep in your arms after you finished cleaning up. You watched your tv on low volume as he snuggled against you. You didn't know what you guys were now, or if anything would change at all. You were just happy you got to experience it. You had been wanting it for a while after all.

---------------------------------------------------

Yay! New story! I finally gathered the motivation to create this, so I hope you guys enjoy! I'll try my hardest to write more stories again, but my life has been quite hectic lately, so I can't promise i'll fully return yet! I am definitely not abandoning this account though :)

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

*Ribbed For My Pleasure

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 676

cw: smut without plot, fingering, fisting, slight shadow play, rough editing

Note: Can you find the meme?

His hands. Oh Gods his hands.

The texture of his fingers molding between your flesh. Working you like putty melted around his.

"You're so good bunny." Azriel purrs, shivering your spine.

"Sir," your voice raspy, gasping for your next moan, "Your hands- I love your hands."

Stillness.

"What- ?" Three scarred fingers still cocooned in you warmth. The male was too stunned to speak.

Flushed, airy, "They're ribbed, for my pleasure... fuck please please keep going sir?" Waves of confusion spiraling your mates lust coated eyes.

You've been watching him. Admiring the ways he flexes his fingers while writing or holding a fork. ...cutting his food- gods you just needed to know what it felt like. If his fingers were this delicious, how was the rest of the meal?

"Fist me Az. I wanna feel you down your forearm. Fuck... your scars feel divine sliding in and out of me."

As his fingers started to fall back into rhythm, the air fills with the sounds of your lewid orcestra once again. "Are you sure Angel?"

"Please. I need it"

"Well, then let's see how good of a girl you are."

The momentary loss of his skin being repleaced with the pressure of more digits aligning themselves to your entrance coiled something so deep, so primal in the base of your stomach. Tickling your very soul and being. "I'm ready. Give it to me sir."

The pressure. The texture. Fuck. It felt like being torn open and sown back together by the hairs of a God. Four fingers in, three knuckles deep, thumb teasing your opening. His thick moan ripping the oxygen from your blood. "You take me so well bunny. Look at you fucked out with my hand deep in your womb."

Bliss. That's all you could feel. All that you were. At the hands of your mate, grinding down to his wrist, feeling him- needing him inside you. If you asked him to put his head in he would find a way. Just as addicted to each other as you were decades ago when the mating bond was accepted. You'd try just about anything with one another.

Azriels growls grew as his thumb finally slid inside. Scar tissue pressing against your walls, creating rippled screams of please from your thoat. Shadows curling around your body to get a better view, playing with your nipples and clit. Finding any contact they could to add to your pleasure.

Mate. Must please our mate.

One hand fisting your sopping wet cunt, one gripping your jaw, Azriel leans inbetween your neck. Leaving a trail of kisses from your earlobe to your collarbone. Evenetually finding shelter in the crook, he bites down. Marking his mate. Taking his claim.

"So good baby. Just like that- fuck your so beautiful."

"Az... Sir.. I.. I"m"

"Let go Y/N, cum onto my hand." That was your undoing. His raspy dark voice, his delicately rough hands, the pulse of love and adoration being shot through your chest. It was all too much. Arching against the bed you scratch at Azriels shoulders. Screaming as your release dances down the ridges of his skin. Skin intertwined with yours.

" You did so well my love" Wispers of praise help ease you as your come down settles. Bringing your mind back to reality.

"Don't leave yet. Please"

"I'd never leave you bunny. I should take my hand out, but I'm not going anywhere." With a whine of displeasure, Azriel begins to slowly pull his arm out of you. The shadows bring over a towel, cleaning you up before tossing it to Azriel. Allowing their singer to clean himself in your esseence. You were as much their mate as he.

"Drink sweetheart" handing you a cool glass of water the sleep starts to hit your eyes "Let's get you cleaned up. These sheets desperatly need to be changed or we'll be sleeping in a waterbed." Kissing the top of your head Azriel carries you into the bathroom, ever the loving mate. "I love you Y/N"

"I love you Azzie"

[mylovelies-docx]

Love Bites (But So Do I)

🎃 HAPPY HALLOWEEN TO ALL MY SPOOKY, HORNY BITCHES 🎃

I'm finally participating in Kinktober, but it's literally the last day and it's whatever the fuck I wanted to write.

Pairing: Innocent!Vampire!Reader x Werewolf!Bucky

Plot: Reader is suffering from hunger pangs due to national blood shortage. Bucky offers a solution.

C/W: 18+ MDNI!!! (I am so for serious). Loss of virginity, age gap (Reader is late 20's), what’s the name for blood drinking?, fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex, slight dom/sub, knotting, cock-warming, fluff, resolution of mutual pining.

Vampirism is cool and all, but it also fucking sucks sometimes.

Like during a national blood shortage.

You’d been turned only a couple of years ago around the time of your 25th birthday. You can’t quite recall what happened, as everything around the event is distorted in your memories. All you know is that you were on a mission with some of the other Avengers one second, and then the next you were lying in the med bay with an intense craving for blood.

Everyone was surprisingly accepting of your new ‘condition’, with the exception of one person.

Bucky.

Bucky wasn’t on the mission where you were turned into a vampire, so he had no idea what he was walking in on when he stopped by to visit you in the med bay. You distinctly remember the look of worry and confusion on his face when he peered through the window and saw you strapped down onto the bed. You’d given him a forced, awkward smile and turned your head away, not able to look him in the eye.

You heard the door to your room click open and Bucky began to call your name, but then he inhaled sharply, unable to finish his question. You turned your head slightly and peeked back at him. You could tell immediately that Bucky’s werewolf senses had picked up on the change in your DNA, his instincts telling him that you were now his enemy.

You leaned your head back against the bed and closed your eyes, devastated that Bucky hated you before you could even have a proper conversation with him. You’d been on the team for a few months at that point, only really developing surface level friendships with everyone. They were all welcoming enough, but your anxieties prevented you from letting anyone in.

With your eyes closed, your other senses were able to accommodate for the loss of sight. The gust of wind from Bucky opening the door rushed up your nose, and a heady, intoxicating scent lit up your brain. Your eyes popped open and you stared at Bucky, noticing his heavy breathing and his pulse pounding against the arteries in his neck. Your mouth watered at the smell of him, divine and irresistible in a way that no one else had been up to that point.

A choked keening had erupted from your throat, your wrists and ankles straining against the bonds holding you down. You twisted and pulled, trying to break free and make a run for Bucky, but he’d immediately sensed your desire to drink his blood. A shutter fell into place over Bucky’s face, masking any expression that might have been there. He sucked in one final deep breath and slammed the door to your room, storming down the hallway and away from you.

As soon as you could no longer detect Bucky’s scent in the air, your mind cleared somewhat and you were able to realize just how out of control you had acted and how embarrassed you were at your actions. But you were also unable to stop imagining running after him and sinking your teeth deep into the flesh of his throat. 

Slamming your head a few times onto the bed underneath you, you cursed yourself. Bucky barely even liked you before, but now he probably despised you – not just for what you were, but for how you acted, as well. You’d gotten off on the wrong foot with him to start, but then you’d stumbled hard and crossed a line by almost ripping your arms to pieces in order to get to him.

You’d never been able to look people in the face or hold eye contact for very long, but it’s especially true when it comes to Bucky. You’re not exactly sure why it is that your heart races and butterflies fill your stomach, but the feelings bubble up and prevent you from speaking and make you uncomfortable in your own skin. This happens every time you meet someone new or are with people you don’t really know, but the sensations that flood your body when Bucky is around are 100x worse than anything you’d felt for anyone before.

You’d realized in that hospital bed that whatever you’d felt for Bucky prior to becoming a vampire had changed, had become almost unbearable. His scent never left your thoughts and your mind always drifted off to think about Bucky: what he was doing, where he was, who he was with. Your eyes would darken and turn red, fangs lengthening when you imagined him with anyone other than you. 

It’d taken you weeks to recover your sanity completely. You’d drained bag after bag after bag of blood, never feeling completely satiated, but unable to find out why. Some members of the team visited in those weeks to determine if you were safe to be around, and although the aroma of their blood wafted through the air and surrounded you, you never reacted to any of them the way you had to Bucky that first day. Dr. Cho had decided that you were no longer a threat after your successes, so she’d allowed you out of your restraints. You were finally able to walk the halls again and explore the compound. 

Though the sunlight wouldn’t kill you (discovered during Dr. Cho’s studies), your skin would prickle and start to burn after prolonged exposure, so you tended to avoid the daylight. You’d wander the halls after everyone had turned in for the night, lamenting the fact that you could really only spend the evenings with them all before they needed to sleep. 

You’d catch whiffs of Bucky as you stalked the night, your pulse racing and endorphins fizzing through your veins, but he never appeared. Bucky kept his distance from you for nearly a full year after you’d nearly attacked him. You couldn’t blame him. He’d been tortured enough in his life, he didn’t need the added stress of you trying to suck him dry every time he entered the same room as you.

It took some time, but you were finally able to cohabitate the same spaces with him again. Even though your mouth watered and your hands longed to reach out and grab him, you refrained. You kept yourself distant in order to make him more comfortable with your presence even though nature meant for your two species to hate each other.

You understood why Bucky had such a vehement reaction when he smelled you for the first time after your transition; walking the streets of New York, you’d catch of whiff of wet dog and dirty sock, immediately identifying werewolves as they prowled the streets, their stench clinging to your nostrils and turning your stomach. You’d grimace and walk away as fast as you could in search of clean air not polluted with the presence of werewolves. If grody socks and dirty mongrel was what you perceived werewolves to smell like, you can’t imagine what Bucky must smell emanating from you.

The only thing that doesn’t make sense is that you’d never found Bucky’s scent displeasing: in fact, the fresh, pine scent drove you crazy and had your body begging to be near him despite knowing that he’s a werewolf. You feel insatiable whenever he’s around, needing to consume blood soon after in order to calm the raging hunger within you.

Your mouth waters at the thought of the hot liquid filling your mouth and sliding down your throat, warming your insides and sending shivers all the way down to your toes. It’d been nearly a full day since you’d last tasted the savory red substance. 

A nation-wide disaster the Avengers had handled yesterday required the hospitals to use up most of their stores of blood, leaving you feeling guilty for even thinking about taking the life-saving liquid for your own benefit. All the Avengers were out celebrating a job well-done and the prevention of more death and destruction that would have occurred had you all not been there to help. 

The fight yesterday had taken everything out of you, and you were unable to drag yourself from the couch where you had collapsed earlier in the day. Your head is spinning and your muscles are weak from the lack of  blood in your system. Some of the others had offered you their blood to help you feel better, but you’d declined and told them to go out and donate it to one of the blood banks that were in desperate need.

You’d never drank directly from a person in the years since you’d become a vampire, choosing instead to avoid the intimacy that must come along with the action. Holding someone’s wrist in your hands as you clamp down on their radial artery, nuzzling your face into the crook of their neck and sucking a mark around the two perfect puncture holes from your fangs – it just felt overwhelming.

And besides, the only person you could even imagine suckling from was Bucky and he’d never offer you his blood, regardless of whether it was in a bag or straight from the source.

You groan as your stomach contracts in on itself, the emptiness feeling as if there’s a black hole inside of you and you’re going to be consumed from the inside out. You feel foolish for turning your friends’ offers away, but there’s no way you’d have kept them from enjoying themselves after everything they went through yesterday. You can only hope that Dr. Cho is able to procure something for you in the morning or else create some alternative to the human blood that sustains your life force.

You’re curled in the fetal position on the couch, clutching your stomach and trying to think of anything else besides this nauseating hunger you feel. Your eyes squeeze tightly shut and your face scrunches in agony. You moan once more, unable to hold it in.

All of a sudden, your senses detect the presence of another person in the compound – a door in the residential wing swishing open and the pad, pad, pad of socked feet walking towards you. The sweet, fresh smell of a pine forest after a spring shower wraps around you, easing the pain enough for you to open your eyes and witness Bucky walk into the living room and find you lying there. His face contorts momentarily, but then smooths back out.

“Y/N?” he questions. You whine at the timbre of his voice, the rich sound penetrating your eardrums and burrowing into your veins. “What’s wrong?”

You wince as another hunger pang claws through your gut.  “I’m –” you whisper hoarsely. “I’m hungry. So hungry.”

“Hungry?” he asks. “What about the blood you keep in stock?” Bucky walks over to the hospital-grade equipment in the kitchen behind you, looking for a blood bag you know isn’t there. You hear him open and close the door, quickly ascertaining that there is nothing to be found within. Bucky quickly walks back over to you and crouches a few feet from the couch. “Where did it all go?”

A red-tinted tear falls from your lower lashes, leaving a pink streak along your cheek. “The… the civilians,” you murmur quietly. Even with Bucky’s enhanced hearing, he has to lean closer to hear what you say. “They n-needed it more th-than me.”

“Shit,” Bucky mutters under his breath. A determined look comes over his face as he rolls up his sleeve. He holds his wrist in front of your mouth and barks out a command. “Drink.”

You barely find the strength to shake your head at him in refusal. “No,” you whine. “I’ve never… I can’t…”

“Yes,” he growls, “you can. And you will.” Bucky stretches his mouth wide and rolls his head on his neck, transforming his normal human teeth into the incisors of a wolf. He bites down onto the center of his wrist, tearing open his vein and shoving it back in your face. “Drink.”

Your bloodlust overtakes you at that moment. The warm, coppery blood seeps down his wrist and beads onto the sofa beside your head. Your hands move of their own accord, your mind fighting a losing battle with your instincts. You grasp Bucky’s wrist and wrap your parched lips around the gaping wound. You lick and suck where Bucky’s teeth had torn apart his own flesh. At the taste of Bucky’s blood hitting your tongue after years of craving it, a pleasured whimper crawls up your throat and forces its way between your parted lips against his flesh.

Buck’s metal arm reaches around and cups the back of your head, holding you in place as you continue to feed from him. “That’s right, doll,” he says. “Take as much as you need.” You feel the cold pressure of his hand as he strokes your hair away from your face. “Fuck. Been waiting for this. For you.”

The words send a shiver through you and you would have happily stayed right where you were for the rest of eternity, but the mouthfuls of blood have quickly turned into a trickle. You whine at the realization, running your tongue over Bucky’s wrist to confirm that his wound is healing too rapidly for you to continue drinking. You cry and raise your eyes up to Bucky’s, tasting his blood that had dribbled down your chin as you lick your lips.

“It’s –” you try. “You’re not…”

Bucky curses once again. “I heal too fast and the vein is too small for the amount of blood you need.” 

He takes a hair tie from his pocket and quickly runs his fingers through his hair, gathering it all into a bun at the back of his head. Bucky rises swiftly and picks your body up into his arms. He cradles you against his chest as he settles quickly on the couch and places you in his lap. He circles one arm around your back to hold you upright and uses his other to guide your mouth to his throat.

“Bite,” he commands.

You whimper at the authority in his voice, but shake your head. “I’m okay,” you plead. “I – I don’t know how –”

“It’s instinct,” he replies harshly. “You do know how.” He takes your head and pushes your face further into his neck. “Bite me. Now, Y/N!”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you cry, resting your forehead against his skin and struggling to maintain the hold you have on your sanity when Bucky’s pulse is thrumming just under his skin. It’s right there. So close you can hear the blood as it rushes through his veins. This is the closest you’ve ever been to Bucky and his scent is beginning to drive you insane. You pant heavily against his throat, exhausting yourself from the effort of holding back.

Bucky releases a sigh and a sliver of tension leaves his muscles. The hand against your back strokes up and down, settling your body as it shivers against his. 

“You won’t hurt me,” he says. “If I use my claws, the cut will be too big and I'll bleed too fast. Your teeth are so small, I won’t even feel them,” he soothes.

You hesitate for a moment before saying, “... you promise?”

“I promise, baby,” he hums.

The softness of his words is all it takes to tear down your defenses. You suck in a breath and bare your fangs. They sink into the skin right above his jugular and you feel the slight pop as you pierce its wall. Blood gushes into your mouth and you feel something inside you pop open just like Bucky’s vein. 

All of the sudden, you become acutely aware of everything Bucky.

The rhythm of his heart as it pumps blood through his body and into yours, his breaths as they leave his mouth, the sounds he makes as you suckle at his neck – as if he’s enjoying every second of having your lips at his throat and sucking the blood as it floods into your mouth in time to the pulse of his heart. You can feel your own heart race to match his, beat for beat.

You moan at the sensation and pull harder against Bucky’s neck. Needing to be closer, you swing a leg over his lap to straddle him, hooking one arm around his shoulder and the other around the back of his head.  You feel Bucky’s hands grasp your hips as he holds you tight to his body. 

Involuntarily you roll your hips against him, rubbing your covered core over the bulge in his jeans. The action elicits a groan from Bucky and the contact sends an electric current through your body, forcing your hips to seek more friction. You continue to grind against Bucky’s crotch, your panties becoming soaked and leaking through your shorts and onto his jeans. 

You continue to draw from Bucky’s neck as he begins to thrust against you in response to your motions. You moan at the extra pressure against your mound and work harder to match his rhythm. 

“Fuck yeah, baby,” Bucky groans. “Using me so well to work that sweet little clit.” You whimper against his neck and brace one arm on the back of the couch, gaining leverage and moving your hips faster against him. “You gonna cum like this, darlin’?” He pants into your ear. “Gonna cum when I haven’t even touched you yet?”

At his words, you release your fangs from his throat and take big, heaving breaths. You pull away and stare down into Bucky’s eyes, his pupils dilated and staring deep into your own. You lean down quickly, capturing his lips with your own like you’ve dreamed of doing for so long. Bucky returns the kiss feverishly, working his tongue between your lips and delving into your mouth. You continue to grind yourself against Bucky until you’re nearly delirious with lust and feel a tight knot forming between your legs.

Bucky’s fingers snake between your bodies and pull the fabric of your shorts and panties aside so that he can run his fingers along your soaking slit.

“What a good girl,” he growls. “Already so wet for me.”

He nudges one finger at your entrance and you keen at the pressure of his thick finger trying to enter you. You huff against his mouth, trying to relax and allow his finger entry.

“’s okay, sweetheart,” he breathes against your throat as he trails wet kisses from your lips down to your shoulders. “’m not gonna hurt ya.”

You nod your head feverishly and lean backwards, changing the angle of your hips so that his finger has more access. It slips inside and your pussy clenches hard around it, not used to anything filling you so full. You cry out in pleasure as he crooks his finger against your walls with what little room he has.

“Goddamn, you’re so tight,” he huffs. “Have you not done this before?” Bucky questions you, using his free hand to pull your face back towards his so that he can kiss you once before letting you respond. 

You shake your head no and cry out again as he withdraws his finger and plunges it back into you. He continues to massage your walls while he pulls his finger in and out, in and out.

“Then is this okay, baby? Do you like this?”

“Yes! Yes, Bucky! I – I love this.” 

He sucks your bottom lips between his teeth and holds it there for a second before letting go. “Let me see how much you love it, Y/N. Come on, cum for me.”

“Uh, ah, I’ve never –” you half confess before stopping yourself by biting your lip and throwing your head backwards.

“You tellin’ me you’ve never let yourself orgasm, pretty girl?” he asks you. “What a tragedy,” he growls against your neck, finger still working between your legs as he slowly tries to fit another one inside you.

“Unh,” you whine in time with his finger thrusts, feeling the stretch of your hole as the slick from your core coats his hand and allows his second finger entry. You gasp at the sensation of his two thick fingers inside of you and the heel of his hand against your clit. The knot in your stomach feels as if it’s stretching as tight as it can go, pulling and straining to be undone. You work your hips in time with Bucky’s hand, trying to get him deeper inside you where your body screams for more.

“But don’t worry,” he whispers against your ear. “I’ll take care of that right now.”

Bucky’s other hand comes up and pinches your erect nippled through your shirt. The sharp sizzle of pain morphs into pleasure as he surges through your nerves and rips the knot in your core apart. Your hips freeze and your knees lock tight against Bucky’s hips, every muscle in your abdomen clenching and your walls bearing down on Bucky’s fingers. 

“That’s a good girl,” he breathes. “Look at you cumming all over my hand.” His words send another blade of pleasure to your core and you squeeze his fingers tighter. “You like when I talk to you, baby?” Bucky asks. “You like when I tell you you’re a good girl?” Bucky chuckles at the realization that his words cause your pussy to work his fingers harder.

“Does my sweet, pretty girl want to cum on my cock?” He wonders, tracing a finger down the side of your face and then slipping it into your mouth. You instinctively suck on his digit, lathing your tongue around the tip. Bucky sucks in a sharp breath when you nip at his finger with one of your fangs.

“Dirty girl,” he teases as he takes his finger from your mouth. He grabs your chin and looks into your eyes again. “Will you let me fuck that tight little pussy of yours?”

You moan and nod your head. “Yes! Yes, Bucky – please!” you cry out.

With a wolfish grin, Bucky grabs the back of your thighs and holds you up as he carries you out of the living room and towards his bedroom. You notice two little pinpricks of blood where your fangs had been earlier, the skin already healing over. You lower your mouth back to Bucky’s throat and lick his skin clean. Bucky bounces you in his arms and kisses your lips forcefully as he finally arrives at his room.

He crawls with you up the bed until your head is nestled on his pillows and his body covers yours completely. The warmth of him encompasses you and his scent surrounds you where it pours from his sheets and clothing scattered around the room. Bucky’s bedroom smells just like him, like being sheltered by a grove of pine trees as the sun rises in the sky after a long, dark night. 

 Bucky slides his hands under your shirt and pushes it up your chest, kissing your breasts as they’re exposed. You hum at the warm, wet kisses he places on your nipples before he pulls the shirt over your head and up your arms. Next, he kisses your lips and slowly makes his way down your body, leaving a trail of warmth in the wake of his lips as he reaches the waistband of your shorts.

His fingers curl around the elastic and tug them down, down, down, your legs. Bucky sits back on his haunches, your shorts and panties dangling from the end of his fingers. You reach to cover yourself with your hands, never having had anyone look at your naked body before. 

His glacier blue eyes lock onto yours and freeze you in place. Bucky shakes his head once, telling you to stop hiding yourself from him. You slowly pull your hands away, not exactly sure what to do with them now that they don’t have a purpose.

Bucky hums in content at seeing your naked body lying on his bed, wet and ready for him. He slides backwards off the bed, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. Your face heats as he whips his shirt over his head, exposing his solid chest and torso. He reaches for the button of his jeans and slowly undoes the fastenings. He watches your eyes widen when his cock springs free, finally relieved of its confinement. 

You can’t take your eyes away from Bucky’s dick as it stands at attention, the pink tip weeping liquid. You quickly glance up at Bucky’s face, and see amusement flicker in his eyes.

“I don’t th-think…” you stammer.

“Oh,” Bucky rumbles. “It’ll fit.”

Bucky positions himself on top of your body again, pulling your legs apart so that he can nestle his hips between yours. You feel as his warm, hard length rests between your lower lips and up onto your mound. He’s so big that you could wrap both hands around him and there would still be leftovers. You swallow hard and look up into Bucky’s eyes as he hovers over you. 

“Are you sure?”

He leans down and presses a hard kiss to your lips. “I’m sure.”

Bucky guides his tip to your entrance, coating the head with your juices. He slides it up and down your slit, notching it against your clit and sending shocks to your core. You slowly bring your knees up and wrap your feet around the small of Bucky’s back, reaching your hands to grab onto Bucky’s metal wrist where he has it placed above your head. You look into his eyes as a smile graces his lips.

“Good girl,” he praises. Your body shivers at the compliment and you smile shyly back at him. Bucky takes the head of his cock and slowly notches it into you, pausing at your gasp of air. “Relax, doll,” he says as he leans down to kiss you. You melt into the kiss, allowing your legs to relax slightly and your walls to open enough for Bucky to slide in a couple of inches.

His cock is thicker and longer than his fingers and your body is unsure what to do with so much of it inside you. You whine against Bucky’s lips, the stretch and pressure unfamiliar. 

“It’s okay, baby; you can take me.”

You nod and consciously relax your pelvic floor, imaging the muscles loosening up and allowing Bucky inside. You can feel the effects immediately, Bucky’s hips closing the gap and the tip of his cock lodging deep inside you, the notched head putting pressure against a point inside you that forces all the air to leave your lungs. You suck in a sharp breath as Bucky fully sheaths himself inside you, barely believing that his entire length rests within your walls.

“That’s it, doll,” Bucky commends your efforts. “Told you you could do it.”

You smile at him earnestly, proud of yourself for taking all of him inside of you at once. He brings his flesh hand up to your face and pulls your bottom lip down with his thumb. “I’m gonna move now, okay? You ready?”

“Yes,” you breathe. Your heart pounds in your chest as Bucky slowly slides from you until he’s almost completely out. Then, in one smooth motion, he presses back inside, the head rubbing against the spot that made you lose your breath when he entered the first time. You stare into each other’s eyes as Bucky continues to rock into you, his hips meeting yours with every press forward.

You can’t help but sigh at the sweet pleasure that builds from Bucky’s measured pace. You unwind one hand from Bucky’s metal wrist and reach for his face, closing your eyes and capturing his lips in an ardent kiss. The feeling of him moving inside you is nice, the coil from earlier returning to its place inside your core.

You cry out suddenly when Bucky’s next thrust enters you with more force than his previous ones. He opens his eyes and looks down at you, seeing the heat of your cheeks spread down your neck. He smirks and slams into you again, harder. Your eyes widen and your breath rushes out with the thrusts, your walls constricting around him with the repeated motion.

“You like that?” he questions, thrusting hard into you again. You gasp when he picks up speed and force, slamming into you over and over again. “I said: do you like that? Answer me.”

“Uh”-thrust-“huh”-thrust- you answer, your affirmation being knocked out of you as Bucky slams into your core. The rapid, harsh thrusts have the ridges and veins of Bucky’s cock sliding against your walls, and you can feel every single one of them tightening the coil inside of you until it is stretched tight once again. Bucky continues to thrust, taking you higher and higher and higher until there’s no room left inside of  you that your emotions seep from your eyes, your pink-tinged tears from pleasure rather than pain this time.

You gasp for breath repeatedly, listening to the wet sounds of Bucky thrusting in and out of you, the moans and muttered praises falling from his lips. 

“So good for me.”

“You take me so well.” 

“Look at you, crying over my cock because it’s making a mess of your sweet little cunt.”

The praise sends you soaring, you can’t help but whimper and sob into Bucky’s mouth as he keeps his face close to yours, making sure that you like everything he does to your body, monitoring your cries of pleasure to make sure he’s doing the best he can.

The coil begins to fray and snap. You begin to tense up, the sensations becoming too much.

“I think,” you moan, “I’m gonna…!”

Before your body completely lets go, you feel Bucky snarl into your neck and bite down hard with his incisors. You feel a flood of endorphins rush from Bucky’s mouth and travel through your body, pooling in your core and lighting the coil on fire. You cum hard on Bucky’s cock, liquid gushing from you. Your mind goes completely blank as your body shudders and shakes against Bucky’s, your pussy sucking him in as if it will never let him go. Buck retracts his teeth from the mark on your neck, licking his tongue over the puncture wounds. 

“Oh, fuck yes, baby girl. Look what I did to you – no one else will ever make you squirt like I do. No one will ever touch you. You’re mine, baby. No one else’s. I’m never letting you go.”

You stare down in enraptured surprise as you feel Bucky’s cock suddenly swelling inside you, locking him in place. He’s buried to the hilt and you feel a bulging just inside your entrance, preventing him from thrusting any more. Bucky groans loudly in your ear and you feel warmth and extra pressure against your walls, filling you to the brim with Bucky’s cum.

 Bucky leans down and nuzzles into your neck, placing tired kisses against where he’d bitten you. “Mine,” he growls. “Say it. Tell me you’re mine,” he commands.

Your eyes drift closed as the after effects of your orgasms and Bucky’s mark leave you breathless and blissed out. “Yours,” you murmur. “Always.”

Bucky flips you both over, his knot keeping you firmly locked together, unable to separate even if you wanted to (which you don’t). He lays you gently on his chest and holds your face in both of his hands. He wants you to look at him, but your eyes are so heavy that you can barely lift them.

You hear Bucky’s low voice as you drift off to sleep, but the words don’t make any sense.

“My mate.”

***

Your eyes snap open at the feel of soft lips against your forehead, then your nose, then eyelids and cheeks, and finally against your own lips.

You pull away immediately, hands covering your mouth in absolute horror. The previous night comes rushing back to you when you sense the heaviness of a mark on your neck and the aching pulse between your legs. Bucky looks up from where he lays beneath you, his expression turning puzzled and then quickly alarmed at your words.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m sorry, Bucky. I didn’t mean to. I can’t believe –” you gasp out, placing your hands over your entire face and scrambling away in embarrassment. “I don’t know what came over me. I told you. I’ve never done that before, I didn’t know that would happen. I – I must have hypnotized you or something!” you cry out. “I didn’t know that was something I could do! I'm so sorry. I never should have –”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he calls, rushing to sit up and pull your hands away from your face, tilting your chin up until you’re looking at him. There’s a tender look on his face that you’ve never seen before, as if he’s dropped all of his walls with you. Your heart shatters at the realization that you’ve made him do things he never wanted to.  

His eyes soften, almost as if he could understand your thoughts just by looking into your eyes. He tries to get you to calm down, to regulate your breathing by taking in deep breaths of his own, but you’re too full of anxiety and self-loathing for it to work.

“It’s okay,” he consoles you. “We didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do.”

“How is that possible?” you sob helplessly, trying your best to divert your gaze from his. “You don’t even like me. You’ve never liked me and especially not after I became a vampire. I mean, you’re a werewolf! You hate me. You couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as me for a year.” 

“Shhh,” Bucky soothes. “When did I ever say I hated you?”

Your brows furrow in confusion, your breaths continuing to heave in and out of your chest, but your heart somehow calms of its own accord. You feel its beat echoing around you and you realize that Bucky’s heartbeat is working to calm yours, his eyes peering into your own while his hands rub up and down your arms in a soothing motion. “I – we’re enemies,” you say quietly. “Vampires and werewolves have always hated each other.”

“Do you hate me?” he questions, turning your face so that you’re looking at him once again.

You hesitate for a moment before shaking your head softly. “No.”

“And I don’t hate you,” he states, raising a hand and softly stroking your hair.

“But you…?” You try to make sense of what Bucky’s saying. “You can’t stand me. You avoided me after – after I…”

“Because I didn’t want to scare you,” Bucky murmurs. “I knew that if I was around you, I would do something I would regret.”

“...like kill me?” you wonder.

Bucky’s lip quirk into a small smile and he chuckles at your question. “No, Y/N. Not kill you.”

“Then what…?”

“After you were turned,” Bucky begins. He pulls his hand from you and clasps your hands within his, gently stroking your skin with his thumbs. You watch, entranced, as his fingers move over your skin. “I realized something as soon as I walked into your room in the med bay and scented you for the first time.” He tugs on your hands until you look up into his face. He smiles softly down at you with a look of pure adoration and love. “You’re my mate, Y/N.”

You stare at him in confusion. There’s no way – that’s not possible. “How… How is that possible? Are you sure I didn’t hypnotize you into thinking that?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and laughs. “You didn’t hypnotize me – that’s not real, and you know it.” He moves one hand to your throat, where he caresses his bite mark on your skin with his thumb.  “I don’t know how it happened or why the universe saw fit to bind us together, but it did.” Bucky bends his head and smiles ruefully at you as he continues. “I knew you were going to be special to me the first time we ever met, but you were so quiet and you avoided me like the plague, so I thought you were afraid of me.” 

You feel the anguish coming from Bucky as he thinks back on how you treated him these last couple of years. How your inability to meet his eyes or hold a conversation with him led him to believe that you were frightened to be near him, frightened of him. 

You pull your knees to your chest and rest your chin on your folded arms. You glance away and say softly, “I’m… I’m not good with people. Sometimes it’s okay, but others… it’s like I forget how to talk to people.” You flicker your eyes to his quickly, but look away just as fast. You raise your fingers to your lips and rub back and forth, a nervous habit you’ve had for years. “If…if I… like someone. It makes it worse.”

“And that’s why you wouldn’t talk to me?” Bucky questions, pulling your hand from your mouth and placing a kiss on the center of your palm.Your face flushes and a small smile flits to your face. You nod your head while looking down at your knees.

“Well,” he says, “I like you,too.” You raise your eyes to see a smile lighting up his face and brightening his eyes. “I always have.”

“You do?” you ask, checking to be sure that Bucky isn’t just saying these things because you slept together after feeding from him. “It’s not because of what I did last night?”

“No, sugar,” he replies. “I’ve wanted to be with you this whole time.” You watch his eyes scan your face, watching your reactions and feeling your emotions through your new bond. “Do you want to be with me? I wasn’t going to mark you without asking first, but my instincts wouldn’t allow you to be so close without claiming you.”

You shyly pull your hair over your shoulder where Bucky’s mark resides. You worry a strand between your hands and look up into his eyes. “I… I like it,” you confess, feeling your heart beat faster in your chest at your bold words.

“Good,” Bucky states. He leans into you and brushes your hair back away from your shoulder, exposing your mark and placing a tender peck against the raised edges. “Because you’re mine.”

You nod and tilt your head to the side, allowing Bucky to trail his lips up and down your throat before he makes his way to your lips. He kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth and meeting with yours. You hum and unfurl your body, climbing into his lap as his hands guide you into straddling his waist.

“I’m yours,” you agree.

“And I’m yours,” he echoes.

________________________________________

So I didn't have time to make the part 2 I was thinking about for this, but it was never a direct continuation anyway.

Hope you enjoyed! 🎃

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 3

Hey guys!! I am really loving all the excitement for this story. It's going to be a fun ride.

I'm going to be taking a week off with this and Icarus (metal band Steve) next week because I can't wait for you guys to see the Stripper AU and the Olympic swimmer one. And Sept is too far away dammit!

This part we see the morning after and Eddie learns Steve's real situation.

Part 1 Part 2

~

Steve woke up the next morning, warm, sated, and happy. He stretched luxuriously in the bed, reveling in the silky softness of the satin sheets against his bare skin.

“There’s the sleepy head,” Eddie said from a nearby chair. He was gently strumming his guitar and jotting down notes. “Did you sleep good, princess?”

Steve sat up and let the sheets pool provocatively around his waist. “Best sleep I’ve gotten in a long time, if I’m honest.”

Eddie chuckled and put the guitar down. He strolled over to the bed and kissed Steve deeply. “As much as I would like round two, I’ve got to check out in an hour and I still need breakfast and shower.”

Steve pouted, but the tantalizing smell of room service hit his nose and his stomach growled.

Shit.

He hadn’t eaten since his dinner two nights before. So he slid out of the comfort of the bed and pulled on his pants, before padding over to the table that had a literal feast laid out.

“I figured you’d be hungry,” Eddie explained. “Eat as much as you want, I can grab food on the tour bus.”

Steve looked up at him, chewing his bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

“Yup!” Eddie said, and then gathered some clothes and slipped into the bathroom.

Steve dug into the food with gusto. His mouth watering around each bite. Look, he’d grown up rich. He had never had “poor” people food. Only the best ever graced his mother’s table. But this? This was god tiered level food. Each bite melted in his mouth and lit up all his senses. It was divine.

Granted that could just be because he was hungry, but he didn’t think so.

He wasn’t sure how long he took savoring each morsel but he looked up to Eddie chuckling in the doorway to the bathroom.

“You keep making those sounds, baby,” he purred, “and I might be tempted to see how fast I could get you off.”

Steve ducked his head to hide his blush. “Is the food always this good?”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Not always sometimes they’ll have some asshole chef who thinks he’s god’s gift to food and makes it all about him. Small portions, bland, expensive as hell. There isn’t much Hawkins has going for it, but this hotel is definitely one of them.”

“It must be so expensive getting a room here,” Steve breathed.

Eddie just shrugged. “You must have not come from much if this impresses you.”

“My parents are like lawyer and businessman rich,” Steve said shaking his head, “not rockstar rich. Trust me when I say that this would blow their fucking minds.”

“Duly noted,” Eddie said coming to sit next to him at the table. There was still a lot left as Steve had been enjoying the meal instead of scarfing it down. “I wouldn’t know. I grew up in Forest Hills that’s the trai–”

“Trailer park,” Steve said quietly, “I know. I used to babysit after school for fun money. I didn’t have to do it, but I enjoyed it and I liked the pocket money that wasn’t dependent on Mommy and Daddy. Anyway one of my kids was from there. She had a single mom who worked and when she didn’t she drank, so I was happy to watch her and get her out of the house for a couple of hours.”

“Oh.” Eddie blinked for a moment and then half shrugged. He pulled some food onto his plate and took a bite. ���So yeah, I grew up poor and each time we moved up the chain from sleeping rough, to motel, to cheap hotel, to nice hotel, to some place more like this I was always impressed. Don’t impress me anymore, though.”

Steve tilted his head to the side. “Do you miss that? The wonder of seeing each new place?”

Eddie frowned as he thought about it. He took another bite of food but he nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

He poke Steve in the ribs. “Don’t I didn’t notice you wanting to go diving into those pillows when we first came in. I saw you.”

Steve squeaked and giggled. “All right, all right. But can you blame me?”

“Nope!” Eddie said with a grin. “Because that was the first thing I did when I got into the room yesterday afternoon.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, all right.”

They finished their breakfast.

“Come on let me take you back to your car,” Eddie said putting his luggage together for his PA to grab later.

“Oh.”

Steve didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t tell him that he still had all his earthly possessions in his car. At least he hoped they were still there. That he didn’t have any place to go and he couldn’t ask the parents of those kids he babysat. His dad would make their life hell.

“No, it’s fine,” he said waving Eddie off. “I’ll relax here in the lobby for a bit and then call a friend for a ride. You can go whenever you need to.”

He had no friend to call and he would be walking that long ass trip back to the bar.

“I’m not going to do that,” Eddie said, standing up. “I’m going to take back to the bar because that’s where the tour bus is anyway. It doesn’t make any sense to have you call someone else when we are literally going to the same place.”

Shit.

There was nothing Steve could say to that. So he finished getting dressed and walked with Eddie back to his rental car.

Once they got to the bar, Steve tried to sneak off, but Eddie wasn’t having it.

“I’m walking you to your car, Stevie,” Eddie said with a chuckle. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Fuck.

Steve dragged his feet all the way to the back of the lot where his Bimmer was parked.

Eddie stopped ten feet from the car and looked at Steve in indignation. “Please tell me you have some place to go after I get on that tour bus.” Steve opened his mouth, but he held up a hand, “And please don’t lie, you’re terrible at it.”

Steve’s jaw dropped as he stared at him in shock. “I am not!”

“Yeah, you are, babe,” Eddie said coming and taking Steve’s face in his hands. “It’s how I was able to tell you weren’t twenty-two, remember?”

Steve let out a small petulant huff but said, “Yeah, okay. My dad kicked me out and threatened all my friends so they wouldn’t want to take me or risk his wrath. He did the same thing to my job at the video store.”

Eddie kissed him tenderly and then pressed his forehead against Steve’s. Steve grabbed onto his wrists for something to hold onto, not to pull him away.

“Let me get this straight,” Eddie growled, “you have no friends, no money, no job, and no place to go, is that right?”

Steve nodded, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured. He took Steve’s hand and started hauling him away from the car.

Steve stumbled, trying to keep up. He looked back at his car and then back to Eddie. “But where are we going?”

“I need to make a short pit stop and then we’re going back to the hotel,” Eddie said firmly.

“But what about your tour?!” he protested. “I let you throw your life away from some guy you just met!”

Eddie stopped and turned around to face him. “You listen real close, little Canary. We are going back to the hotel to get you a room for the next six months so that you have a roof over your head and a constant supply of food. Then I will be going on tour and will check in on you from time to time to make sure you do need anything else. Is that clear?”

Steve gulped he wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. And he had the feeling that if he tried to weasel out of it, Eddie would be right back in Hawkins to hunt him down.

“You take care of everyone else,” Eddie said gently, “let me take care of you.”

“How–how did you know I take care of everyone else?” Steve stammered, trying not to think of the implications of what was going on here.

Eddie kissed him gently. ‘Because little Canary, you have not once talked about the boy you were obviously caught with for your dad to throw you out even though he’s not offering to take you in either. You haven’t railed against the friends that are clearly more afraid your dad then they care about you. You haven’t blamed your dickhead boss for firing you for being gay, even though you really should. And you haven’t called the parents of the kids you used to babysit for fear of your dad coming after them, too. You have carer written all over you, babe.”

Steve blinked in the face of that onslaught of information.

“Oh.”

He hadn’t really thought to blame anyone for his current predicament because it was obviously his fault this all happened.

“So you’ll let me help you?” Eddie asked with a raised eyebrow.

Steve sighed and waved his free hand back to the direction they were going. “Lead on.”

Eddie cackled and did just that.

~

What the pit stop was was Eddie talking to his band and manager about getting Steve a room at the hotel, putting all of the expenses on Eddie’s credit card and hauling all his belongings up the hotel room Steve had vacated literally a scant hour before.

The room had been cleaned and the bedding replaced and the bed made anew.

Eddie handed Steve a paper with a couple of numbers on it. “The top one is my cell phone. I usually leave it in the tour bus, but if you call it I’ll call you back as soon as I can. The second number is Chrissy, she’s our manager, if you need anything other than what the hotel provides, call her and she’ll get it for you. The third number is your hotel en suite phone number. I don’t recommend giving this out to too many people though, okay?”

Steve nodded and gingerly took the paper from him. He looked up at Eddie, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Thank you so much for this.”

Eddie kissed him again. “You just relax and enjoy yourself, baby. The tour will be over in a few months and then I’ll come back to you, I promise.”

Steve kissed him goodbye as tears flowed down his cheeks. Eddie kissed them away and gave him a hug goodbye.

Once Eddie was gone, Steve sat down into the chair Eddie had been in when he woke this morning. Hard.

His entire life had been turned upside down again. This time was even more insane than the last.

Just two days ago, he had been making out with Tommy Hagan on his parents’ sofa and now he was sitting in the swankiest suite in Hawkins’ swankiest hotel, which would be his for the next six months.

He had all his clothes and his pictures and things. He even got to put them up on the side table, housekeeping would just dust around them. His clothes were in the drawers and closet. There was a basketball court in the hotel gym, there was a swimming pool, and a fucking sauna. There was a TV in the room, hooked up to cable. He could even order porn on here and it would all be charged to Eddie’s credit card.

Steve literally had everything he could ever need and never leave the hotel. There was just one condition.

No underaged drinking on Eddie’s credit card. Steve could smoke, watch porn, do whatever else he wanted, but he couldn’t drink alcohol until he was twenty-one. Because Eddie didn’t want to get into trouble with the law and Steve really didn’t blame him.

So he traded booze for the life of luxury. Which fucking hell was a pretty great trade.

He wiped his hands on the black leather pants he had yet to change out of and stood up.

Steve eyed the bed for one moment before he was running straight for it. He leapt into the air and landed spread eagle, face first in the center of the bed, pillows flying everywhere.

It was every bit as amazing as he thought it would be.

He rolled over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe he could get used to this, in fact.

~

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag list: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006

[rainbowolfe]

Chaos

*cracks knuckles* finally, some fucking lore.

Here's the song for those who haven't heard it yet.

All of my time spent scouring for and trying to interpret symbols... trying to interpret the tarot cards... a conspiracy board of connected dots. It all pays off now, with this album. MY TIME HAS COME.

Before I get into analyzing the lyrics, I wanted to call attention to the tarot cards that appear in the music video.

True Sight, Strength From Within, Diseased Heart, Death's Door, Divine Curse, Hands of Rage, Gift From Below, Ambrosia, Weeping Moon, and two cards that haven't appeared in the game (yet).

I will make an in-depth analysis of what I think these cards mean for Leshy's fate in another post, cause it's gonna be huge. I also wanna see what cards the other Bishops get, as many of the tarot card's reference each other and have meanings that depend on the context from other cards.

But some quick surface level observations based on the notes I already have about the cards:

-whatever "it" is, it starts with the Blood Moon Ritual.

-Either Leshy or his demon were wounded, metaphorically or otherwise, putting him on a path towards corruption.

-Leshy has large reserves of Fervour. His demon receives strength/power from the Sun.

-He almost dies. A deal is struck to exchange something (or someone) for a boon.

-He was eating Gods for his immortality. A specific type. More on that some other time.

-Leshy is the receiver of a gift (of extra life)from TOWW.

The two remaining cards that are still unknown may relate to Leshy's eventual fall.

ON TO THE SONG.

Enough interpreting vague pictures and cryptic lore text. It's time what I've been hungry for. DESPERATE for. Very plain and straightforward text about what a character's been up to.

So there are four entities singing in this. There's the demon who starts the song off, the Green Crown, Leshy, and a fourth being related to the Green Crown.

The demon is marked by a specific, deeper (almost whispery? Dare I say... hissy) voice. We don't hear it again after it says it's peace.

I am the demon growing inside of you. I feed off all your fears and lies. It's so true. I can't wait to hunt you down, capture, and do the horrid things I must do to survive this.

This could very well be the creature that is literally inside of Leshy, visible only in his Eldritch form. But it could also be Leshy's heart. At the core of all the Bishop's actions was fear, and something had to be feeding that fear. Resulting in hearts cast in vile, impermeable, unrelenting terror.

Or it's Shamura.

It also plays off of what Leshy says to the Lamb. "I hear your lies and I smell your fear."

We then transition into what seems to be Leshy finding his Crown (while burrowing) and emerging from the dirt.

I claw my way out, My feet on the ground This horn atop my head... ...is my Crown.

We can know this part is Leshy's because the summoning circle that appears in this section is the one found in Darkwood. Thus, based on the summoning circle in the next section being the same one used by the Red Crown Snake, these lyrics are the Green Crown speaking. ((I would even posit. It's the Crown's original, intended owner. Someone had to put it in the dirt, and it surely wasn't on accident.))

I won't stay in line (I won't stay in line) I'm destined to die (I'm destined to die) The thunder rages on (The thunder rages on) (as night forever falls) As night forever falls

While it's Leshy's voice, they aren't his words. These words belong to the second voice echoing him which slowly reveals that it isn't repeating after Leshy. Leshy is repeating after it. As the 'secondary' voice gets ahead of the 'primary' voice.

The night falling means both an eternal nighttime and the literal "Night" falling. As in, dying. If the Light is the Sun, then the Dark is the Moon. And the decorations in the Heretic's pack would greatly suggest that the moon is dead (if not, then heavily injured).

The eternal night is a reference to the Old Faith, more on that later.

Next section!

True Name vs True Moniker. Moniker does technically mean name, but it's more in the sense of your "brand". Here I'm sure it's being used as a "nickname".

We know him as Leshy, he's representative of chaos (his ""brand"" lmao) and thus is known by that title. But he's not Chaos itself. Something I've pointed out before is that he's "he of havoc" and not "he of chaos". Havoc is not synonymous with chaos.

No, no. Chaos is the one on the other end of the Crown. Because the Crowns are just conductors of devotion. We even see with Narinder's Crown that there's something we make sacrifices to that gives us/the Crown power in exchange. And unless Narinder's hiding tentacles under those robes, it's not him. There's someone/thing higher.

The Old God. Maelstrom. Or Turua, they're both red-coded.

Know him as Leshy, the vessel of chaos. But the second voice (the one influencing Leshy without him realizing it) demands you worship him as Chaos. And only Chaos.

And the "me" here is strange but maybe it'll make sense after hearing the other Bishop's songs?

An important side tangent though. As this is "The Goat" album, there is of course going to be a slight difference in what's being described in this song and what actually happened in Lamb's reality. And that difference lies in the names of the songs.

It's Chaos, and not Leshy. I suspect it's a lot like how Narinder stopped being Narinder, and became The One Who Waits. A being his siblings regard as something indistinguishable from the Red Crown. Maybe even something more severe, as he eventually gets to go back to being Narinder it seems.

Daylight will come undone; as we eclipse the Sun

What I assume is going to be Kallamar's song was previewed in the Goat trailer/teaser, and that too makes an explicit mention to killing a representation of the sun. (or someone adjacent to it)

I said before that the Old Faith represents an eclipse. That's why those specific, but incomplete moon phases appear on all their stuff. They are the omen. They are the punishment for someone's misdeeds towards a higher power.

Destruction wastes at noonday.

[naehja]

I had fun to imagine another version Hua Cheng: Give me a reason what why i should let you take the Earth Master away! Xie Lian: San Lang, listen… Shi Qingxuan (F): *panicked* Because you’re not enough cruel to deprieve a baby of his father even before his birth? Xie Lian: Hua Cheng: Lang Qianqiu: Hua Cheng: Excuse my langage but what the actual fuck Lady Wind Master? Everyone: Hua Cheng: Sorry. I…just...didn't expect that. Xie Lian: *immediatly checks Shi Qingxuan's spiritual energy* you really ARE? Hua Cheng:(I didn't even know that it was possible) Lang Qianqiu: How it is possible? Xie Lian: I'm sorry your highness but now is not the good time to explain how babies are made. Lang Qianqiu: I KNOW HOW THEY MADE. I JUST DIDN'T KNOW THAT 2 GODS COULD… Xie Lian: Well they were both alive and healthy. Hua Cheng: (except that one of them wasn't. So yeah HOW?) Lang Qianqiu: HOW COULD YOU TAKE ALL THOSE RISKS? Shi Qingxuan: It's fine, it has been only two months! Hua Cheng:(OK. Ok. What's the actual fuck Black Water?) I guess you can go. -Later- The next arc is cancelled because Lang Qianqiu never realized that Xie Lian was his former teacher with all this drama. Hua Cheng left them go away with a "ok, take the futur daddy I guess" -Later- Ming Yi (He Xuan): *Waking up* (worst idea ever but it has worked I…) *sees Shi Wudu who looks at him like if he was going to destroy him slowly and painfully* Yes? Shi Wudu: I know what you are. Ming Yi (He Xuan): WHAT? Shi Wudu: Don't raise your voice at me, you little shit! I also know what you did! Ming Yi (He Xuan): (he knows? HOW? The Healers realized that i was a ghost? No i'm free, so it's not that.) What do you mean, Water Master? Shi Wudu: YOU DARE TO DENY IT? Shi Qingxuan, arriving in the room: GE!! Ming Yi (He Xuan): Deny what? *annoyed* Shi Wudu: THAT YOU FUCKING GET MY BROTHER PREGNANT WHILE HE WAS UNDER HIS FEMALE FORM? Shi Qingxuan: GE HE DIDN'T KNOW YET!! I DIDN'T TELL HIM!! Ming Yi (He Xuan): Shi Wudu: ho… Ming Yi (He Xuan):…I WHAT? Shi Wudu, after 5 minutes to communicate with someone via spiritual array: Nevermind, i spoke to the emperor, the wedding is next week. Ming Yi (He Xuan): I…what? Shi Wudu: you'll take your responsabilties before it becomes too obvious! Or... Shi Qingxuan: Ge, stop threatening him! -Later- Ming Yi (He Xuan): and you planned to tell me THAT when? Shi Qingxuan: I had planned to tell you after Pei Xu's trial, when i got sure of my situation, but you got kidnapped by Crimson Rain :/ Ming Yi (He Xuan): …(Fuck you Crimson Rain, you and your stupid plans!) Shi Qingxuan: Don't worry, it has been only two months and i have not taken big risks! Ming Yi (He Xuan): You shouldn't have take any risks! Shi Qingxuan: I don't regret to have saved you Ming-Xiong =) *hugs her lover* Ming Yi (He Xuan): *internal screaming of pure panic + guilt* -Later- He Xuan: Fuck, what will I do now? Hua Cheng, judging the hell of Black Water: You better to not hurt her. First because Gege would be upset. and secondly because i refuse to let you put a pregnant woman and a unborn baby in your revenge, even more if she isn't aware of what her brother did. He Xuan: And what i should do? Waiting the birth and kidnap both of them before killing Shi Wudu or kidnapping Shi Qingxuan before the birth and kill her brother after have put her in safety? Hua Cheng: As you wish. Just remember that taking her divinity away could kill her since the baby is half ghost. He Xuan: YOU DON'T HELP! Hua Cheng: You are lucky that i do what i do, because i'm pissed over you fish boy! Hua Cheng: Because what the fuck did you think? He Xuan: HOW COULD I KNEW THAT IT COULD HAPPEN? I'M DEAD, REMEMBER?

[scoonsalicious]

7.2 Bucky*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (oral (m receiving)).

Word Count: 1.3k

Previously On...: Bucky surprised you with a night-time picnic. You exchanged dog tags, and now things have taken a sexy turn.

A/N: Fair warning, this and the next two sections are smut! Hurray!

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Bucky Barnes was convinced in that moment he’d died and gone to heaven. How else could he explain the sight before him? Major, on her knees, completely naked in the middle of the woods, save for his dog tags around her neck, body glowing under the candlelight of the lanterns as she palmed his aching erection through his jeans, telling him how much she wanted it down her throat. 

But Bucky knew that a man who carried as many sins on his back as he did had no hope of finding paradise in the afterlife, so this could only be the real thing. He watched with mouth hanging open as Major crawled up his body, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. “Help a girl out and lift your hips, Sergeant?” she asked him with a smirk.

Bucky let out a low groan as he obliged, lifting his hips from the blanket so Major could pull his pants off his legs. Once she’d removed them, she tossed them aside atop her own pile of discarded clothes. 

“Mmm,” she hummed, “you sure look pretty, Sarge. Let’s get that shirt off.” Bucky made a move to reach for the hem of his shirt, but Major tutted him. “Let me take care of you tonight,” she said. “You always do such a good job of making me feel good; I want to return the favor.” Her hands reached to his waist, dragging his shirt up and over his torso, then his head, and Bucky thought he was going to cum on the spot. He’d never been with a woman so… enthusiastic? Insatiable? Commanding? All of the above, he thought. 

Once she had his shirt off, she leaned back on her haunches and studied him, licking her lips as she took him in. “I just want you to lay back and let me do all the work, okay?” she asked him. 

Bucky found he couldn’t speak through the lump in his throat but did as Major asked, leaning back on his elbows so he could watch her. She locked eyes with him, and he expected her to take his briefs off of him the way she had his pants, but instead, she leaned down and began to nuzzle his cock with her cheek through the fabric.

He sucked in a breath as she drew her nose along his clothed length. As he grew harder, she began sucking open-mouthed kisses against him. While Bucky couldn’t wait to feel her warm mouth against his sensitive skin, the friction the fabric was providing as she worked on him was divine.

“Fuck, sugar,” he grunted as her palm rolled over him. The gray fabric of his boxer briefs was already dark with precum, but Major added to the growing wet patch with her saliva. “If I don’t get these off soon, it’s gonna be the second pair I’ve ruined because of you in two days.”

Major laughed, her mouth so close to Bucky’s groin, he could feel the vibration of it in dick. “Wouldn’t want that,” she said teasingly. “No washer and dryer out here in the woods. Though, I suppose you could rinse them out in the stream and I could fuck you until they’re dry.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Bucky asked, his laugh turning into a gasp as Major rolled his boxer briefs down his hips, setting his erection free.

“Nope, just this fat cock,” Major said, winking at him. Once she’d slid his underwear down to his knees, she leaned forward and gave his cockhead a featherlight kiss. Bucky grunted and arched his back. Who knew the softest of touches could feel so fucking good?

Major licked a long, slow stripe along the underside of Bucky’s cock from the base to the tip, and Bucky nearly came right then. He tried to think of any and everything he could come up with to stave off his orgasm as Major took him fully into her mouth. 

He settled on the 1941 Brooklyn Dodgers. 

Major’s tongue around his tip, dancing over its weeping slit and Bucky bent his knees to brace himself against the ground… 

Winning the Pennant for the first time in 21 years over the Cardinals. 

Her cheeks hollowing as her mouth tightened around him, enveloping him in her warm heat… 

Losing the World Series to the goddamn Yankees, 3 to 1 in the fifth and final game. 

Her tongue sliding along the underside of his cock as her head began to bob back and forth, taking him deeper and deeper with each thrust. 

Higbe and Wyatt pitching their best seasons. 

The feeling of her nose brushing up against the curly hairs of his pubic bone… 

Eight hundred runs, the highest in the league and – Jesus fucking Christ, was she actually swallowing around him?!

It was too much. Despite his best efforts, everything she was doing to him felt too wonderful, too euphoric for him to continue to think straight, let alone try and hold back. “Fuck, sugar, pull off; ‘m gonna cum,” he grunted, but Major didn’t retreat. If anything, her eyes took on a sardonic look and she gripped his thighs tighter and began moving her head faster than she had before. God, Bucky thought as he watched her from between his legs, she looked a vision, the way she was devouring him. With her eyes locked on his, and the flickering shadows dancing in the candlelight, she looked like something out of ancient myth, a goddess of fire and lust, of darkness and passion. And he was a willing sacrifice to her alter.

The candlelight reflecting off the silver tag around her neck that bore his name. Of all the mere mortals that roamed the planet, Major had selected Bucky Barnes to bestow upon him the honor of seeing her, like this, in all of her divine glory. 

With a grunt that bordered on a growl, Bucky came at that thought– the thought that someone like her felt that he, of all people, was worthy. He could feel seemingly never-ending ropes of his cum spurt from his cock, and he was fully expecting Major to pull away– none of the other girls he had ever been with could seem to withstand the amount of cum the serum led him to produce, but Major? Major continued to suck him like he was a straw, as though she were trying to draw every ounce of cum out of Bucky’s balls and take it down her throat. And by the gleam in her eye, she seemed to actually be enjoying it. 

After what felt like the longest orgasm of Bucky’s very long life, he finally stopped, his cock beyond sensitive. Bucky’s elbows gave out and he fell onto his back, gasping for breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cum that hard. Gently, Major slid herself off of him. She wiped at her mouth gently with a hand, then moved to grab one of the extra blankets Bucky had brought for their picnic. She carefully draped it over him, then crawled up alongside his body to mold herself along his length.

“Are you okay?” she asked, tracing a gentle finger along the line of his jaw.

Bucky sucked in a gulp of air before turning to face her. “You…” he began, not even sure where he was going with his thought, he was so lost in the post-orgasmic fog of his brain, “you are fucking magic.”

Major pressed her forehead against Bucky’s shoulder and snickered. “If you say so,” she told him. 

“I do say so,” Bucky said, still trying to catch his breath. “I just need a minute.”

“Take your time,” Major said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

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