#okay but why the hell do you want to hold them accountable for the sins of the white men of the past???? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

orchidyoonkook · 3 months ago

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IM HERE!! IM LATE BUT IM HERE!! FINALLY!!!

30 days late (I counted because I absolutely hold myself accountable) but I'm here and I thank you for your patience endlessly.

ONTO:

ASKØÆÅVFÆÅFØLDB

This made me laugh in the absolute best way. 10/10 way to start a review, so ASKØÆÅVFÆÅFØLDB right back!! 😂😂

Fucking hell.

😇😇😇😇😈

I finally got the time to read this one, AND IT DID NOT DISAPPOINT 💯✨

Lissa I'm finally able to respond to this with matching energy so SAME TO YOU MY GOOD DUDE(gn). You absolutely spoil me with your love and I dont deserve it 😭😭♥♥♥

This is hands down one of the best stories I've ever read, and I'm so happy I did and I'll revisit this story again sometime, because, fuck, it was just soo fucking good!!! 😭

SOBBING CRYING. I literally am so so happy you enjoyed it. It was my first time really going in on like. Lore and fantasy and smut so the fact that it hit so hard for you just makes my heart freaking soar dude.

Re-revisit???? SPOILED!! I AM SPOILED!!!

Yoongi as the devil is sin on legs, I don't know how to put it 🤧 he's so fucking sexy, and so is oc! She's a bit bad ass and I love it! Taehyung was also so funny, and the whole supernatural world was so good and interesting! I feel like I want more, so much more of this universe 😭💖 and please, don't take this as me asking for another part or anything, it's just praise that I think it was so good that I would read more of it if ever made 💜

I whole heartedly that Mr. Min as Mr. Underworld wholly just does something for me. IDKWTH that says about meeeeeee. But I see you. I see you.

OC makes my heart happy because she (unknowingly to me at the time of writing) stole all my gryffindor like traits and then turned them up to 11, and I love her for that. I love how brave and unbothered she is by everything. I just. Adore her.

I debated for all of 4 seconds on which member I wanted to make OC's bartender coworker bestie and Tae just fit because he's sooooo the type 😂😂. I thought for 2 seconds to make him Jimin but then I figured Jimin would suit a Banshee better and forevermore Tae was decided to push OC's buttons in the ways she needed.

I do have theories in my mind for more of this universe with the other members, and hell even if i wanted to, with other groups even. But I know what the other members are in the universe, and I have a rough (very VERY rough) couple of ideas what could happen for each. Who, knows, I've gotten so much love from this oneshot that series is starting to sound much nicer.

And I gotchu! I know a lot of folks take praise as demand but you dont gotta worry about that with me. As someone who was and remains a reader before a writer, I getcha. I do.

And... The smut... It was so fucking good. It made me feel so much, it was hot, so, so hot 🔥

God this is consistently relieving to hear. I can't read it myself anymore without cringing but my mum has read the story so maybe thats why. I did put a lot thought into word choice and actions and such, but trying to ~write~ and trying to make it hot at the same time is such a talent and so for my first time really trying to write it I think I did okay. My point being, every time someone as lovely and kind as yourself tells me this it's such a nice relief to know it's only cringey to me (because ~i~ wrote it) and the experience is different for people who didn't have to sit there and think "should I use cock or dick here??? Is folds okay still or is it starting to become cringe as hell??? Shit why are there only like 3 acceptable words for clit!!??" 😂😂😂

Everything in it; the lore, the storytelling, the writing! It was perfection!!! ✨✨✨✨✨

*cries while looking up from my bowing position at your feet* T-thank youuuuuu😭😭😭♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Im just rambling now, but yoongi was so hot, like what 🥵🥵🥵

Ramble always! I don't know a single writer out there who doesn't love it!!!! And I agree on terms of principle. Yoongi is just.. fucking hot.

And I haven't watched Lucifer, but I imagined Crowley from supernatural 🤭 but in a young and sexier edition (I really do love Crowley, so no shade there!).

I've never seen supernatural but I have seen Lucifer XD. Yin and Yang you and me! And now that I've googled crowley, he's a cutie pie!! So I'm good with that!

But damn. I really loved this one.

I really loved this gloriously kind and loving review. Folks like you are the reason fandom persists, thank you for your efforts ♥♥♥

It was perfect in every way 🥵✨🥰

*continues sobbing a puddle the size of the pacific*

Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. For the review, the patience you give and for your existence <3

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word.

Intimate. That would be a better choice.

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering.

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony.

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy.

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts.

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go.

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between.

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company.

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight.

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off.

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges.

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter.

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot.

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are.

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back.

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses.

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up.

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.”

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is.

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck.

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself.

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.”

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night.

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung!

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing.

You just lost all your tips for the night.

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it.

Fuck.

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet.

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know.

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it.

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass.

No one serves him but you.

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you.

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year.

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath.

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,” he responded.

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased.

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you.

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it.

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink.

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself.

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.”

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.”

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation.

No one calls the Devil by his first name.

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to.

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives.

No one except you.

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is.

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that.

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in.

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night.

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker…

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up.

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath.

The King of Hell.

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end.

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon.

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging.

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers.

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully.

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity.

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive.

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again.

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well.

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while.

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was.

And maybe he is.

But not to you.

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow.

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him.

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world.

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you.

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find.

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos.

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside.

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor.

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding.

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system.

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth.

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing.

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer.

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.”

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target.

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own.

Yoongi.

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself.

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real.

And he looks like sin incarnate.

Fitting.

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you.

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on.

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved.

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you.

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises.

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night.

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse.

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him.

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body.

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.”

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now.

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening.

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you.

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant.

Beautiful.

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says.

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you.

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers.

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you.

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring.

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear.

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait—

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse.

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?”

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’.

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him.

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides.

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it.

You’ve decided.

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power.

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years.

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back.

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club.

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait.

And apparently neither does Yoongi.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate.

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil.

You trust Yoongi.

“That's a good girl.”

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft.

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people?

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on.

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get.

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight.

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent.

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea.

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh.

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off.

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?”

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs.

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you.

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.”

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him.

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge.

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look.

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded.

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter.

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip.

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue.

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.”

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get.

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it.

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt.

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines.

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before.

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip.

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him.

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it.

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it.

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.”

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures.

You’re the most powerful person here.

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible.

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know.

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact.

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets.

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace.

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them.

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you.

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else.

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal.

Perfect in every single way.

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too.

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back.

Not yet.

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling.

Ever.

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more.

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence.

There was only you.

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows.

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming.

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance.

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white.

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need.

It’s yours.

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze.

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented.

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?”

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?”

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before.

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking.

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say.

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.”

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.”

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him.

You just know it.

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless.

You never expected anything like that.

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years.

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better.

Because of you.

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that.

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly.

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell.

He was yours now.

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

#truly truly truly truly #Like i dont even have the words for how excited reading this made me #reviews #kingofbodyrolls #TDWV reviews #kind souls #LISSA♥

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starserto-blog · 6 months ago

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☾ Hazbin Hotel Swap AU Needs People!☽

Hello hello! it has been ages and years since I have checked this account! I am pretty sure NO ONE remembers me as I was not very active to begin with, however, I have returned to say I am in desperate need of dedicated role-players for my Hazbin Hotel Swap AU Roleplay Server! I will give all the details below, but please I beg you to take a look! My staff and I desperately need Swap Valentino, Vaggie, and Charlie! So please continue reading this post to understands the rules and the overall lore of this roleplay. Things are strange and a bit different! I have taken a lot of inspiration from other swap alternate universes and really wanted to make my own! So Keep reading! This is a Discord Roleplay Server so a Discord account will also be required. Do not be a toxic person if you are you will be banned. The roleplay will take place similar to the show except we will not be following a heavy script! This roleplay server also gives voice calls and and we even have a singing channel if you so wish to sing! This server also allows you to have reaction roles! So no @ everyone here! You can click on the roles you want! The future of this serve I as the admin plan to host art events and reward with ponytown skins as I am not a rich folk I am sorry I cannot give you nitro! This server also hosts a non-cannon in character voice channel where you can be silly! We also have music channels and music bots. Just follow the rules! And you will fit right in! ☾ Roleplay Lore ☽ A long, long time ago Angels reigned over the world, they saw life and beauty and decided to create the first man and woman! Adam was created first and he ventured into the new light! It's beautiful! He has all he needs! Right? However, he felt…lonely so the creators made a woman, Lilith…The two did not click, It is unknown why, perhaps Lilith just wasn't Adam's type. So a Young Angel, Lucifer! Found Lilith and they fell in love. Lucifer and Lilith wanted to give humans free will. The other angels did not agree, so Lucifer thought of a plan while Adam was with his new wife Eve he came to the Earthy Grounds and offered Eve the apple, a new promise to humanity and a new life! Of Free will! Eve refused the apple and left, unknown to Adam where her whereabouts were, so feeling hopeless, Lucifer went to Adam perhaps this man would accept his offering. And Adam did. This was a sin Lucifer and Lilith got cast to Hell and Adam soon joined them after his time was up. Such a small sin? Cause this much chaos? Lucifer disappeared with his and Lilith's child unknown where they are. Lilith rules this Kingdom but seems to be somewhere in the Shadows. Adam then found a new dream, similar to the man that gave him free will he had a dream to redeem the demons of this world, holding no resentment towards the Heavens as he blamed himself for the sin he had committed. Now here he is running the Hazbin Hotel! As Angels compile executions from way above, another goal to add to his list. Is there still hope after all that's happened? He holds onto that hope ☾Rules ☽

➳ Please no erp also known as Erotic Roleplay ➳ Please don't spam ➳ Please no twinsies to make the roleplay less confusing ➳ Have fun ➳ Roleplay and talk ➳ Any and all rp styles are allowed here. ➳ There is no limit on ocs however you are required to fill out the character sheet AS IT IS. ➳ Do not complain if your favorite character has been taken ➳ Do not ask for admin/mod powers ➳ Do not ping the mods or admins unless it's something important ➳ Please for the love of god. Do not ping someone to reply to a rp. it's understandable to be impatient but please note everyone has a life to. ➳ Please respect triggers and headcanons ➳ Please keep things pg-13 sexual jokes are okay! But please be mindful, yes this is hell but c'mon most of us are here for redemption and chaos! ➳ Please read through everything before making a claim and such ➳ Please make your claims before roleplaying ➳ Do not roleplay in the "In Character Text" channels. It is pretty self-explanatory. But it's for characters to interact through text ➳ Below 14 cannot enter this server ➳ Have fun! That is an order ➳ You can have up to, one claim for this roleplay! For the canon characters. OCs? Have all ya want! Go Nuts! Admins can have two roles, to help fill out the characters. ➳ Please put effort into your writing, at least two sentences. ➳ This server accepts all roleplay styles! ➳ You can make your own designs for your swapped role I made my own for Adam so go wild ➳ Please change your name to your characters! ➳ Tupper is required for these roleplays I as the admin will help you set it up. ☾ The Roles ☽ I will also have a list below this list at the roles that have been taken, so it is not too confusing. This will be as of posting this and this CAN change over time. So join while you still have the chance!

☾ Hotel Staff and Guests ☽

➳ Adam Eden - Hotel manager and owner (Swaps with Charlie)

➳ Lute - Second in Charge of The Hotel (Swaps with Vaggie)

➳ Husk- Hotel's Main Investor and Main Line of Defense (Alastor's role)

➳ Valentino - Hotel's First Guest on his path to redemption (Swaps with Angel)

➳ Velvette - Hotel's Maid (Swaps with Nifty)

➳ Cherri Bomb - Second Guest of the Hotel (Swaps With Sir Pentious)

➳ Sir Pentious - Cherri' Bomb's rival ( Swaps with Cherri Bomb )

➳ Vox - Bar Tender (Husk's Role)

➳ Lilith - Queen of Hell (Lucifer's Role)

➳ Razzle, Dazzle, Keke, and Fat Nuggets are the same just designed in different colors and maybe different names up to whoever picks these roles

☾ Heaven ☽

➳ Emily - The leader Seraphim (Swaps With Sera)

➳ Sera - The other Seraphim (Swaps with Emily)

➳ God - Is Still God no changes here

➳ Charlie Morningstar - Princess of Hell leader of the Executioner Angels (Swaps with Adam)

➳ Vaggie - Charlie's right hand (Swaps With Lute)

➳ Lucifer - Why is he here? (Swaps With Lilith)

➳ Auntie Susan (Swaps with Rosie)

☾ Overlords ☽

➳ Zestial - Runs the weapon community (Swaps With Carmilla)

➳ Carmilla Carmine - Zestial's role in the original (Swaps With Zestial)

☾ The A's ☽

➳ Angel Dust - Runs the horny jail studio (Swaps With Valentino)

➳ Alastor - Leading Radio Podcasts (Swaps With Vox)

➳ Aniftty - Youngest of the A's they changed her name to fit their Crew (Swaps with Velvette)

☾ Hotel Staff and Guests ☽

➳ Adam Eden - taken

➳ Lute - taken

➳ Husk- taken

➳ Valentino -

➳ Velvette - taken

➳ Cherri Bomb -

➳ Sir Pentious -

➳ Vox - taken

➳ Lilith - taken

➳ Razzle -

➳ Dazzle -

➳ Keke -

➳ Fat Nuggets -

☾ Heaven ☽

➳ Emily -

➳ Sera -

➳ God - taken

➳ Charlie Morningstar -

➳ Vaggie -

➳ Lucifer - taken

☾ Overlords ☽

➳ Zestial -

➳ Carmilla Carmine -

☾ The A's ☽

➳ Angel Dust - taken

➳ Alastor -

➳ Aniftty - ☾ Welcome to The Hazbin Hotel ☽

Link should be where it says Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel Also when you join the server please state if you were recruited from here or Toyhouse

#SwapAU #hazbin #hazbinroleplayswap

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theartisticgamingwitch · 2 years ago

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Any habits you like to share with the class?

OK welcome to the 7 deadly sins of my art farting career. Hopefully i will not get the punishments equal to these said sins in my life So buckle up cause were starting hot with lust.

Lust is a complicated one because im not twisting the anatomy to the point its not legit accurate. Looking at you superhero comics and games that are just boobs and ass mostly mortal kombat is a fall of this.. i just.. can't draw ugly people. Dont get me wrong i honestly am trying! Its just complicated. And dont worry i may write smut but i cant draw it either.. Ill try if im brave enough but i know better not to put it on my portfolio...or here..

ENVY ohhh boy do i have it. and i have ways to control this lil demon! Its okay to compare yourself to the masters/ other people BUT, not to the point where you think copying them 1000% will make you just like them! Mish mash your favorites to make your own style. Thats how i learned mine. Compete with yourself not with someone else. Take breaks from other peoples work if they make you the sads and focus on your end goals. ok now BACK IN THE CORNER ENVY!

Okay whos next *sees sloth playing animal crossing* Right. you.. I tend to get unmotivated by projects easily if im stressed the hell out or i dont like somthing in my sketchbook.. so i just put it away and go play some video games. IMHO this isnt 100% a bad thing.. we all need a break for a kit kat bar every now and then however HOWEVER!, Making excuses for weeks at a time effects your artwork later, So this is why you need to focus on the game but also allow yourself to take maybe 15 min breaks to do anything else besides video games. Water your plants, Play with your pets, Party in your room, EAT SOME FOOD!

Next is Gluttony and taking on too many things at once is a good and bad thing all at the same time. Welcome to the world of ADHD. This is mostly bad for me cause im a people pleaser and i want to please everyone except myself (yes my dad raised me as a doormat im slowly growing a spine.)

Now the biggest sin i have out of all of them...almost killed my chances of getting into this school.. PRIDE. Its okay to take pride in your work but, you have to learn when to step back and give what the client wanted..even if its in graphite form. Bite your lip and hold those words you were gonna say and just give what they wanted. You might just get in.

Next is greed and like i said before im a people pleaser not a greedy person so this one is off the table kind of however, i have seen people on my artstation and my linkdin accounts trying to work with me cause im going to this school and they gave off red flags. One was even a huhbot trying to sell me makeup. o

*looks at wrath* Okay buddy youre up! Now im not the 100% type to use blood, violence, and edgyness into my work. Its more i hate my own work and it drives me insane to where i wanna crumple it up, yeet it in the bin and start over..and this cycle can continue for a few days till i go into sloth mode. Dont be so harsh on yourself to where what your drawing is no fun! Try to think about it from another view if its not what you expected. You might be surprised on how it comes out.

#art sins #study time

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rustytrident · 2 years ago

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time for the token pact mark hcs every obey me writing account has!!

kinda 18+ on asmo's section but not in the way u think.

mammon's pact mark came first, and you couldn't say you were surprised when it showed up on the palm of your dominant hand. circular, not too intricate, shining yellow; it wasn't exactly hard to miss but it wasn't too obvious, compared to the ones you would gather along the way. mammon still finds every chance to hold your hand, trace his sigil – hell, even high five you – so he can feel his power merged with your energy (his favourite is when you cup his face with that hand, but of course he won't admit it).

leviathan's showed up on your sternum – an interesting spot, you thought, but rolled with it either way. it was only when you felt envy for the first time after your pact that you realised it weighs down more on your chest than any other spot on your body. did you kinda feel like iron man, walking around with an orange circle in the middle of your chest? yeah. did you thank whoever decided the mark would show up there when levi cuddled his face into your sternum to feel your combined energy before he fell asleep? yeah <3.

beelzebub's showed up on your tongue, and no matter how obvious the spot is you just couldn't find it the first few days?? like okay pact is here but here where?? then you yawned in front of a mirror by chance and almost gave yourself whiplash cause why was your tongue bleeding?? upon further inspection, you concluded it was just a pact mark! long, branching out like the roots of a tree, like lightning, from the back to the front of your tongue, it looked sick. now, did you start taking selfies with your tongue out because of a newfound bad boy look or was it because you wanted to show off your demon – that is up to the audience's interpretation.

asmodeus gave you a tramp stamp. a fucking tramp stamp. you don't even know whether to laugh or cry the first time you see it in all its pink glory, so you do neither. you call solomon. you ask him where his pact mark is. he answers "on my lower back, right above my ass". you hang up the phone. asmo later on explains that he's doing you a favour by getting you into 2000s fashion, and that you should be glad the pact mark showed up there, and not on the spot the beings he doesn't have romantic feelings for get it. you don't ask where that is, but you do start wearing more low rise clothes. asmo's home screen after that is him hugging your ass after he put you in his juicy sweatpants with the bedazzled JUICY on them, pact mark on full display.

satan's pact mark is on your temples – two small, spiked circle sigils, green as his sin's colour. he says you look hot when you get mad and they light up, and when you roll your eyes at him he reassures you that you look just as badass, too. the one time you watched back a video leviathan took of you failing to beat a boss for what felt the hundredth time on the newest game he bought, you understood what satan meant. if you're the type of person to cry while angry, your red eyes make the green marks show up even more – satan says during those moments you look like a siren, and you accept it with a bashful nod. it would be improper to deny a compliment from a demon lord, anyway.

belphegor's mark showed up on your nape. you're bummed out about not being able to see it when you'd like, but he says it's fine. really, who wouldn't be overjoyed about having purple, star-like freckles at the back of their neck, right? especially when your demon says they remind him of the sky in the human world, hence the design and detail that was put into it. sometimes, belphegor likes to fall asleep while spooning you and kissing the stars on your nape. will he admit it? nah. but you know, and he knows, and that's enough (he's usually asleep after the 11th star. yes, you counted).

lucifer gave you the longest mark you had, starting from the top of your neck, and dropping down between your collar bones. it looked like a very intricate dagger, with a carved blade, the tip of it resting at the spot where your ribcage starts. when you asked him about it, he told you that pride, the sin and the feeling both, demands of you to keep your head up. hold your head down, submit, show humility, and you miss it. and so, you kept your head up. it wasn't like lucifer carelessly handed out pacts and emotional bonds with the beings of any realm – and you couldn't say you disliked when his eyes trailed down to your neck before returning to your eyes again, with a softer look this time.

gonna close this by saying that the only pact mark placements I've seen are on mc's back, placed in a sigil wheel, or one atop the other in a line on their spine. still, if someone has said what I said before me, tell me so i can credit them!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #sing me a song // the song of our glory

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fanficimagery · 4 years ago

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Five Years After

Imagine going to the feed store for your sister, only you come home with more than just feed for the animals.

Words: 5.1K Author’s Note: The ending of this imagine was definitely inspired by a TikTok video :)

When the Blip happened, you were in complete disbelief. Chaos erupted all around as planes fell from the sky and automobiles crashed because their drivers had vanished into thin air. Everyone was a complete mess as they attempted to call loved ones, their calls going straight to voicemail or being answered by another family member that were having to deliver the bad news of a disappearance.

Your only living relative was your sister Laura and her children she had with her husband Clint, so when one of your co-workers and a handful of your customers vanished into thin air, your first call had been to your ex-Avenger of a brother-in-law. Unfortunately Clint was just as clueless as you and the phone had nearly slipped from your hand when he gave you the news that Laura and the kids had vanished. You had nowhere to go and were so scared because of the looting that had started, so Clint told you to pack your things and get to the farm as soon as possible.

You'd only been on the farm for a full day before Clint's friends came looking for him. Natasha, who you had met after your sister had married Clint, greeted you with a rather solemn hug. It was Steve Rogers, however, who attempted to introduce himself with as much joy as he possibly could in order to be polite.

You had shaken his hand, smiling sadly. "You don't need to force a smile for me, Rogers. The circumstances suck. I get it."

That had surprisingly pulled a short laugh from Natasha. "See, Steve? Told you she wouldn't be expecting the Man with a Plan."

Steve and Natasha had proceeded to stay for the duration of the day, telling Clint all about a fight that had taken place in Wakanda and who out of their friends had vanished. It was a devastating blow and you had no idea how everyone was going to cope. Then soon after the two Avengers had left, Clint went into overdrive. He was making phone calls left and right, packing bags and weapons, and you were at a complete loss.

You had decided to leave him be and it was only the following morning when you woke to an empty house did you find the letter on the kitchen counter. In the letter he had apologized for leaving you after everything that had happened, but went on to explain that there were criminals still out there who had survived the Blip when others who were sin-free didn't. He couldn't leave them be while people like his wife and children were no longer alive, so to work through his aggression he was going to hunt those criminals down. Fortunately enough, he left you in possession of the farm-house and made it so you were able to access his bank accounts. He told you not to look for him or get the others involved, so you waited a whole day before contacting Natasha and telling her all about Clint's derailment.

Clint left no trail, leaving you all alone. Or so you thought.

With Clint's vanishing act, Natasha and Steve made you their responsibility. They made sure you knew they were only a call or email away, but only after Nat drove down to give you some technological devices since the regular power grid was fluctuating. Since Earth lost half its population, everything seemed to be falling apart.

Then Tony Stark was brought back home and the world seemed a little bit brighter.

For years you drifted, working at a grocery store in town to keep yourself busy. The Blip took a toll on everyone, but it was nice to have to talk to someone even if the other person moved on autopilot. Clint sent an email every other month from a burner email, so it was a dead end every time Natasha looked into it after you had forwarded it to her. And about the only news-worthy thing that had happened after the Blip was the announcement of Tony and Pepper Stark's baby girl Morgan. You didn't know the Stark's personally, but it didn't stop you from sending their little girl a present every year on her birthday for the next five years on behalf of yourself and the Barton family.

One morning you're sitting at the breakfast table when you hear the telltale sounds of a jet overheard. You figure it's just Natasha and Steve for their monthly check-in so you think nothing of it.

The screen door creaks open and you call out, "In the kitchen!"

The steps of what sounds like more than one person falter, but then they pick back up until they near your location. "Got enough for another plate?" That oh so familiar timber makes you spew orange juice across the table. You're up and out of your seat, staring at your brother-in-law who's a lot more tatted up than you remember him being. "Hey, sis."

Tony Stark stands just a couple feet to Clint's right, but his presence isn't enough to deter you from marching up to your brother-in-law and punching his shoulder. "You asshole!" You punch him again for good measure as tears sting your eyes. "You left me. You left me all alone! How could you-"

He dodges your continuous blows, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from attacking him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but I'm here now. It's all going to be okay." The fight instantly drains out of you as you sag into his embrace, sob after sob leaving you as you clutch to him tightly.

Clint tightens his grip a little more around you until your cries turn into sniffles. "What- what are you doing here?"

"Lang came up with a plan to bring our people back." You tense in Clint's arms and pull back to look him in the eyes. "Banner and Stark made the machines necessary to make the plan work. We're going to bring 'em home. We're going to bring 'em all home, Y/N."

"Please tell me you aren't joking," you mumble.

"Nope. No joke," Tony says. "It's not a total guarantee, but we're going to try our best." You let go of Clint and turn to look at Tony who's standing by the stove and picking at the leftover scrambled eggs. "Mmm. These are good. What'd you put in them?"

"Uhh, just butter and cheese."

"Morgan would absolutely love these. She's on this whole cheese kick right now."

That earns a chuckle, and after gathering yourself you look back at Clint. "So what's going to happen now?"

"The team's getting ready for a test run," Clint says. "I just wanted to let you know I was home and that we had a really important mission coming up."

"How soon?"

"Today if the test run goes good," Tony says. He pours himself half a glass of juice before downing it in one go. "And speaking of, we need to go."

You look at Clint, a little let down that he's leaving so soon, but he grins and pulls you back into a hug. "It's going to be okay." You nod against him and he lets his arms drop before he steps back. He looks around the kitchen and his grin widens. "You've kept up good with the house. I'm impressed."

"I should hope so," you mumble. "I had to flirt with the hardware store boy so he'd help me keep the house from falling apart."

Clint laughs. "You did good, Y/N. Laura will be proud."

"Yeah, yeah. Now go bring my sister, niece, and nephews back."

"You got it, boss."

- - - - - - - - - -

You're grateful for the day off because it leaves you with time to clean the house from top to bottom. You need some way to burn off all your anxiousness and making sure the house looks good for your sister is one hell of a way to do just that.

You're not sure how long you'd been cleaning when you decide to take a break, and you head outside for some fresh air. You walk off the porch and onto the grass, tilting your face skyward as you inhale and exhale softly, your eyes closing. One moment all you can hear is the wind ruffling tree limbs and grass, and the next it's a cacophony of chirping birds.

Your eyes fly open and you're shocked to see the swarms of birds flying around in the sky. Sure there have been birds around after the Blip, but you've never seen so many together since then. You're too busy staring up into the sky that you don't see what appears to be ash take formation behind you.

"Aunt Y/N?" The timid voice makes your heart stop before you whirl around, your eyes widening at the sight of Lila glancing around in shock. "What's going on? Where's dad?"

"Lila?" You breathe out in awe. You stumble towards her, eyes glistening with tears. "They did it. They actually did it." You pull her into a hug, cries stuttering in your chest. As you hug her, you glance towards the open field where you see Laura appear, followed by Nathaniel and then Cooper. "Laura!"

You grip Lila's hand tight as the both of you break out into a run towards the rest of your family, you and Laura colliding with twin oomphs. The two of you are crying as Laura tries to work out what the hell happened and where Clint is, but before you can explain anything she's pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing Clint's number. As she worries about getting her husband on the phone, you quickly hug Cooper and pick up Nathaniel to hold on your hip as you squeeze him in relief.

"Clint?" Laura sobs when he finally answers. "Clint, what's going on? I-" She stops talking all of a sudden and she looks at you, eyes wide.

"What happened?" You ask.

"I- I don't know. One second he was talking and then-" She cuts off, glancing at her children and shaking her head. "He just cut out."

You know all is not fine and that something terrible must have happened for Laura to trail off the way she did. But instead of worrying her kids, you offer a grin. "I'm sure it's fine. As clumsy as he is, he probably just dropped his phone." She forces a smile for her kids' benefit. "So why don't we go ahead and wait for him inside. I'll make something to eat while you guys relax and I'll catch you up on the five years you missed."

"Five years!?" Laura nearly shouts.

You wince. "Yeah. You guys missed a lot."

- - - - - - - - - -

For the next couple of hours you tell Laura all about the Blip and how half of Earth's population just disappeared- Avengers included. You tell her how Clint had you move in, and how you helped take care of the house and what few animals they had on the farm still while working at the local grocery store. You tell her all about Steve and Natasha, and how Tony Stark is now married with a daughter of his own.

"Wow." Laura chuckles. All the kids have fallen asleep around the living room, leaving Laura the time to finally ask, "And where was Clint this entire time? I noticed he brought you onto the farm, but then everything became about Steve and Nat."

You suck in a breath sharply. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice that."

"Y/N.."

"He went rogue." Her eyes widen and you wince. "He left me here with access to your bank account, which I only used to pay bills and buy groceries by the way, and not even Natasha could find him. He only came back when she tracked him down and told him there was a chance they could reverse the Blip."

"Oh Clint.." She sighs, shaking her head in disappointment.

The sound of a quinjet hovering makes you and Laura perk up, but you keep quiet so as to not wake the children. You and Laura meet each other's gazes before you carefully get up and tiptoe out of the living room, and then you're rushing out the front door and down onto the lawn.

The door drops down and then Laura is sprinting across the field to reach her husband. You joyously laugh, jogging over to catch up. But as Laura and Clint hug one another, sobbing, you turn your sights to Steve who's standing sheepishly off to the side. There are two others with him, but since you've yet to meet them you make your way towards the familiar.

"Hey Rogers. Good to see you in one piece."

He tiredly chuckles. "Y/N." You punch his arm and he opens them up so you can hug him. "How are you holding up?"

"Better now that I got my sister back," you muse. As you pull away, you glance behind him into the quinjet. "Hey, where's Natasha?" Steve's smile falls and your heart plummets into your stomach. You can practically read the answer in his eyes. "No.." You shake your head.

His breathing stutters before he clears his throat. "We, uh, we lost Tony too."

Your expression completely crumples then, but Steve is quick to pull you back into a hug. He lets you cry into his chest before Clint steals you away, and then you're crying into your brother-in-law's shoulder. Then once all the tears taper off, Steve introduces you and Laura to Wanda and Bucky.

"I'll be in contact with you about what Pepper decides to do," Steve tells Clint. "If you do anything for Nat, let me know."

Clint sniffles. "I will."

You, Clint, and Laura wave off Steve, Wanda, and Bucky as they return inside the quinjet and lift off.

"Come on," Clint then sighs. "I need to see the kids and then figure out a way to tell them all about auntie Nat's sacrifice."

"And plan a memorial," Laura says.

You frown. "This was not the homecoming I was hoping for."

After a few days of planning, Clint decides on a cookout with all the Avengers and close friends of Nat's invited. It was a couple of days before Tony's own memorial, so you were surprised when Pepper Stark showed up with Morgan in tow. You were happy to finally meet the young girl who you'd been sending gifts to and you gladly ended up on babysitting duty.

You had met more of Clint's ex-coworkers, but your attention always ended up back on the children. Then when it came time to say a few words on Natasha's behalf, you somehow ended up between Steve and Bucky as the children ran back to their respective parents with Steve tucking you into his side when the tears started.

Then when the day of Tony's memorial came, there were more guests than you had anticipated. So as Pepper and Morgan walked a small flower raft with an arc reactor replica on it and set it out on the water, you stood back with Laura and her family and waited in silence. And as the crowd dispersed, you mostly kept to yourself until you saw Steve walk out of Pepper's home in the oddest white and red suit you'd ever seen.

Walking up behind Steve, you nod at Bucky and Sam who grin at your presence. When Steve turns around, you chuckle. "Why do I got a feeling you're about to do something very stupid?"

He grins and adjusts his grip on the suitcase hanging by his side. "Someone's gotta return the stones to their original timeline."

"Mhm. Well be careful. Don't start any unnecessary fights."

"I'll try my best."

As he walks up onto the platform, you step back and nudge your arm against Bucky's. He smiles down on you and you stand by his side as you listen to Bruce who walks Steve through about what's going to happen. Bruce checks all his monitors, giving Steve the go-ahead when everything is fine. Steve nods, a mask of sorts opens up and wraps around his face, and he presses a button that had been in his hand. Bruce counts down the seconds before he flips a switch which is meant to bring Steve back, but nothing happens.

Bruce looks around his monitors and starts pressing some more buttons. "Where is he?" Sam asks.

"I don't know. He blew right by his time stamp. He should be here," Bruce says as he flips a few more switches.

Bucky sighs and you quickly glance at him, and he looks more resigned than anything as he turns to walk off.

Your attention goes to Bruce as your heart rate picks up. "Get him back."

"I'm trying."

"Get him the hell back!" Sam urges.

You and Sam are low-key panicking, but it's Bucky's calm voice that stops the both of you. "Y/N. Sam."

The two of you whirl around, gazes sliding towards where Bucky is staring off to. In the distance, on a stone bench by the water, there appears to be a man sitting there that wasn't there before. You and Sam stumble forward, and you squint your eyes, only to glance back at Bucky with wide eyes.

"Is that.."

"Go."

You share another look with Sam and he gestures for you to follow him. The two of you walk towards the man together and Sam stops just behind him as you walk around in front. When you get a good look at your friend who is way older than what he appeared to be a mere twenty seconds ago, your heart cracks just a little.

You try to force a smile, but it wobbles as an elderly Steve chuckles at you. "I'm really trying not to be so mad at you right now." Your voice cracks and he pats the spot next to him as you sniffle. You immediately sit next to him and take his left hand within your own two, a gleaming wedding band not going unnoticed. Your fingers trace it. "Was it at least a happy life?"

Steve pats your hand. "It was. It was the beautiful life I always dreamt of."

You take a moment for yourself, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "You know you were my complete impulse control, right? Who's going to stop me from trying to get into your best friend's pants now?"

There's a snort from behind you, but you don't bother giving Sam your attention. "Go easy on him," Steve tells you. "I'm not sure he even remembers how to flirt."

You grin as you lean your head on his shoulder. "I'm really going to miss you," you say after a beat. Another moment passes before you drop Steve's hand and sigh before you stand. "Well, um, I should get back my sister and Clint now." You meet his gaze and flash him a small smile. "It's going to suck not seeing you every month, but I'm really glad you found your happiness."

"Thank you, Y/N."

Your bottom lip wobbles again. "Goodbye, Steve."

As you walk away, you hold your head up high and nod to Sam when he looks at you to make sure you're okay. You continue walking, nodding at Bucky as you pass him up as well when you see Laura wave you over. "For the record, I still remember how to flirt." You stumble and and then hear Bucky chuckling quietly behind you.

"Goddamn super soldiers and your dog ears."

As the days turn into weeks, Clint and Laura offer you a permanent place on the farm now that everything seems to be going back to normal. He's promised to build you a small house on the property for all that you've done in the past five years, so in the meantime you've taken to bunking with Lila while Wanda took over the guest bedroom. Clint had also taken to bringing Bucky to the farm when he noticed the super soldier not coping as well as he was letting on, so you found yourself often sitting by the back pond with him as the two of you traded stories about Steve and yourselves.

Though you had originally joked about getting into Bucky's pants, you found yourself seeking friendship from him more than anything else and vice versa. So when you weren't working at the grocery store, you were watching the kids for Laura and Clint or hanging out with Bucky and Wanda. It was no surprise to anyone that the three of you latched on to one another after losing those that you did.

"Hey Y/N," Laura calls out. "Will you do me favor?"

You glance up as she walks out the front door, you and Wanda ceasing your conversation. You grin. "What do you need?"

"Lucky needs some dog food and we need a few bales of hay for the goats."

"Oh. Okay." You look towards Wanda. "Wanna go for the ride?"

She shrugs. "Sure."

"Thank you! You can just put it on the Barton tab at the store," Laura says. "Clint pays it monthly and I've already called ahead to let them know someone was going in to pick up some stuff we needed."

"Got it." Standing up, you pat down your pockets to make sure you have your keys, phone, and some cash. Realizing you have everything, you grin at your sister before walking down the porch steps. As you near your truck, you whistle at Bucky who was throwing knives at a target on the side of the barn. "Hey Buckaroo! We're heading into town. You wanna come?"

He throws the last knife in his hand before he turns to look at you. "Don't call me Buckaroo!" He shouts back as he makes his way towards you.

"Then stop lookin' so darn cute!"

Wanda snorts and you laugh as Bucky shakes his head at you. "One of these days he's going to flirt back and then what are you going to do?"

"Bend myself over the table and let him hit it from behind," you mumble. She snorts harder this time and your eyes widen when you see Bucky start to smirk.

As he nears the two of you, he says, "What did you say?"

"Nothing," you blurt. "Nothing at all. Wanda's just easily amused, is all."

His gaze slides to Wanda, but she shakes her head and doesn't tell him a word. You mentally sigh and praise her for being a good friend, and then you turn to walk towards your truck. Wanda readily heads for the back driver's side door while Bucky walks around to the passenger seat so he's seated next to you.

Once you're seated behind the wheel and the engine is turned on, you take a moment to find a decent song on the radio before driving. It's not too long of a drive and you find yourself pulling up to the local feed store not even three songs later.

Parking and cutting the engine right in front of the store, you turn towards Bucky. You know he's not a huge fan of being out in public, but you rather not have to flirt inside the store to get a helping hand. "Hey Buck, can you do me a favor and load up four of those large rectangular bales of hay and one bag of that dog food right next to it?" You see him tense. "I rather not have to flirt with the boy inside just so he'll help out."

He relaxes then and gives you a nod. "Yeah. Sure."

"Thanks. Just keep watch through the window. Wait 'til I give the signal for you to start loading up." He gives you another nod and you turn around to face Wanda. "Wanna head inside with me?"

Wanda grins and readily opens her door, you and Bucky following right after. But as you and Wanda head inside, Bucky remains by the tailgate of your truck and keeps watch through the large front window as you had said. Inside, Mr. Reeves is waiting by the cash register and keeping an eye on Bucky outside.

"Don't worry, Mr. Reeves. He's with me." Mr. Reeves glances at you, smiling in relief. "I need four large bales of hay and a fifty pound bag of dog food."

Mr. Reeves starts punching buttons on his register. "Alright, sweetheart. Is that going to be all for you?"

"Sure is. Um, Laura asked if you can put it on the tab? Clint will be by at the end of the week."

"Sure thing." You turn towards the window and give Bucky a thumbs up. He turns to open the tailgate and then move towards the bales of hay to start loading up. Mr. Reeves chuckles. "That's a strong fella you got there."

His words make you blush and Wanda giggle, but you can't even reprimand your friend because she is further away than you expected. She's leaning over what appears to be a warming box, hand inside as she smiles down at something you can't see. "Whatcha got there, Red?"

Her smile widens as you hear small chirps. "Ducklings."

You walk over to her, peering inside and your heart absolutely melts. Inside are the cutest ducklings you've ever seen and you know you're done for when you set your hand down inside and one particular little duckling runs onto your palm.

Mr. Reeves walks over, chuckling. "They were hatched a few days ago. All have been looking mighty strong and are ready to go to good homes."

"How much?"

"Y/N," Wanda laughs. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking this little sucker with me." You pick up your hand, duckling still happily nestled in your palm as you cradle him to your chest and look at Mr. Reeves. "Any chance you have those small plastic kiddie pools?"

"As a matter of fact I do," he muses.

Wanda is giggling the entire time Mr. Reeves gets exactly what you need, you nuzzling the yellow fuzzball to your face. You pay with your own money and sadly hand over the duckling when Mr. Reeves has to box her up. You then carefully take the box from him as Wanda takes the kiddie pool, and you walk behind her as you make your way to the truck.

You have absolutely no regrets about buying the duckling, but you still hide the box as you walk around the truck and open the driver's door. Wanda shoves the kiddie pool into the back with her and Bucky turns so his gaze darts between the both of you- Wanda looking far too amused and you looking a little sheepish as you continue to stand outside the truck.

"What did you do?" He sighs.

"Well we went in to just buy the food," Wanda says, "but-"

"I bought a duck." You blurt. You finally put the box in front of you, on the seat, and you open the lid. The duckling chirps and you beam down at her, picking her up and nuzzling her once more. "I'm gonna name her Flauta." Bucky snorts and Wanda laughs uncontrollably then. "No one tell Laura."

"Gonna be hard to hide her, doll."

Bucky reaches over to take the duckling from you and the sight of him cradling it, holding it up to his face and smiling makes you melt once more. Wanda is staring knowingly at you, but you don't even have the urge to flip her off because you know you're fucked. Instead, you take your phone out of your back pocket and snap a picture.

"That's my new wallpaper."

Bucky doesn't bother admonishing you for taking the picture, so after setting it as your wallpaper you put your phone away and climb into your truck. He holds onto the duckling as you make the drive back to the farm, Wanda giggling every now and then when you glance at Bucky and sigh longingly.

When you make it back to the farm, Clint and Laura are on the porch as the kids play out in the yard. They both stand as you park, their expressions turning suspicious as Wanda hops out of the back with the kiddie pool in tow. You grin as you hurriedly hop out as well, leaving Bucky to carry the incriminating evidence.

You can tell he expected as much as he watches you jog around to his side of the truck, already pointing at him through the opened window. "Bucky bought a duck!"

He shakes his head at you and you blow him a kiss, Clint and Laura then joining you by the truck. "Oh really?" Your brother-in-law muses.

"Yep."

"Mhm." Clint looks to Bucky as Laura bites back a grin. "Buck, what's the duck's name?"

Without missing a beat, he says, "Flauta."

Laura finally laughs. "Nice try, Y/N." As Bucky and Wanda guess how Laura knew, she says, "When we were younger, Y/N did the same thing but with a turtle. She named him Taquito."

"And Taquito lived a long and happy life until we went off to college," you say. "Flauta will live just long, if not longer, here on the farm."

Clint chuckles and then takes the duckling from Bucky. He looks to Wanda and gestures for her to follow him. "Lets go get this little lady all set up. The kids are gonna have a blast."

Laura follows after them, but not before winking at you, and you shake your head as you're left alone with Bucky. He finally climbs out of the truck, shutting the door and then leaning against it. You nervously laugh as he smirks. "You threw me under the bus."

"I couldn't take the chance that they'd make me return Flauta." You pout. "I couldn't send her back, Buckaroo. I'd already named her."

He pushes off the truck, turning you around and laying his arm around your shoulders. For a moment you forget how to breathe. "You're just as bad as Steve."

"Oh whatever." You roll your eyes, grinning as your arm wraps around the back of his waist and start walking towards where Clint went. "Steve got you shot at. I momentarily put you in momma bear's crosshairs." He quietly chuckles. "And besides, I didn't hear you deny it. Admit it, Barnes, I'm growing on you."

"Like a fungus."

You pinch his side. "Oh fuck off." He fully laughs then. "Just you wait, Buckaroo. The day we decide to put sex on the list of things we should definitely be doing, I'm gonna withhold just because you're being an ass."

"You sure about that?" The teasing lilt to his voice suddenly makes you feel at unease. "You sure you won't immediately bend over the table and let me hit it from behind?"

Your face flames, but you can't help but laugh at your earlier words. When you manage to calm down, you can't help but say, "I hate you," as you finish making your way towards your family.

"Nice try, doll, but I'm calling bullshit."

#marvel gen fic x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel imagine #clint barton #laura barton #steve rogers #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #avengers imagine

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rcksmith · 4 years ago

Text

Geniuses — Five Hargreeves

Request: “Hi! I am just the annon that recently sent the request 3,11,16 and 22. You asked what I wanted, I forgot to put that I got them from the “fluff” prompt list. I am so sorry!! And don’t worry! It’s not your fault I didn’t see the list 😂😂 but thank you so much! I really like your fics and your writing style so much! 🥺🥺💖💖”

Fluff prompts:

3“You’re staring again.”

11. “Wow- you look…amazing.”

16. “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.” 16. “I heard that!” 1 .“You were supposed to!”

22. “well the probability of that is 0, but you go ahead”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

Haha love, it’s okay💖💖 i hope you like, because I really like to writing tis. Thank you for resquest. Love u❤️

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves/Fem! Reader.

Warnings: nothing, just bad words and fluff.

(gif not mine)

— — — — —

It was fun to think that Five never had an equal opponent, someone as smart, canny, sarcastic and ironic as he. Five Hargreeves was always used to being the smartest person in the room, always being the one with the quickest response on the tip of his tongue.

And, well, it was fun to think that it all went up in the air when you showed up.

You were cruelly intelligent, able to correct errors in Five's math equations, sarcastic and always had a cheeky smile on your face. You weren't used to being underneath, which is why when Five wanted to show that he was better than you, well, you wouldn't give up.

But unlike the time traveler, you didn't have super powers, you weren't extraordinary, you didn't have any skills, but that didn't stop you from being equal to him in every other way.

Whenever Five wanted to come out on top with the argument that he had powers and you didn’t, you raised an eyebrow, looked at him as if he had made a basic math mistake, and said: “I don’t need powers, I’m a genius, you should try to be one too.” And it made him furious, and, truth be told, you just liked to tease him too.

But just as the two of you had personality differences, the ability to handle emotions and people well was different from Five. You were kind, funny and wanted to make people comfortable around you. Being a genius didn't mean you shouldn't be a nice person, and Five usually forgot about it.

As you and Five spent more time together, it became clear that you two were no longer able to stay away from each other. Five liked (secretly) to have someone to really talk to. Someone that understood and followed his line of reasoning, that understood the equations he did, and that considered him a genius instead of crazy with some reasoning.

Being with you was like, for Five, meeting another human being in a dog-only world, and when he kind of told you that in other words, you laughed out loud and said: “Or how to find an equal sign in an equation.” And that's when he felt his heart pounding for you.

Five remembered when you beat him in chess for the first time, no one had ever done it before, and he agreed to play with the full awareness that he was going to win again. Well, that is not what happened.

When you checkmate his king, Five was stunned. He leaned over the board, looking at the pieces as if they had created a head. And you laughed, leaned back in your chair in a victorious smile.

“This is impossible.”

“it's actually just intelligence, why don't you use it now and then?” You were kidding, it was obvious, you couldn't stand hurting people and Five knew it. The dynamics of the two of you who were exchanging barbs.

“You must have stolen or something, this is very much your style” He returned, eyes on you as you laughed “Let's play again and I will give you a the most brutal defeat.”

“Well the probability of that is 0, but you go ahead” You accepted, first because you wanted to show that you would beat him as many times as possible, and second because there was nothing you liked more than spending time with Five.

The matches started, and you won every time. And when the sunset and the breeze was cold, you and Five looked at each other, with the peach rays of the sun illuminating their faces, and the mutual smile they gave out sweetly.

He were really enjoy the game and you knew that, and he knew you not just want the victory. You two know Just more matches would make you spend more time together. And... Five didn't remember if anyone ever really engaged in a game just to want to be around him.

But things really got more real and serious when Vayna asked you to go to one of her violin performances too. And, well, you wore a long, red dress, firm in all the right places, and Five couldn't get his eyes off you just one second.

It was as if, when he saw you, all the equations in his life had been solved. And a single thought rang in his mind: “I want her”

And the certainty of that was absolute. He wanted you as an overwhelming force, which shook his whole body. He needed you like needed oxygen. And there was no way to deny that anymore.

But it all happened in a fraction of a second, and you had just chosen that moment to approach him and ask:

“So, how am I look? Are you going to make a little joke about berries or something?” You laughed.

But Five could think of nothing but that if there were the personification of sin and perfection, it would be you. He looked at you as a whole, a fucking beautiful woman with a fucking brilliant mind. You are incredible and he had no other adjectives for you.

“Wow- you look… amazing.” You felt all the intensity and truth in that sentence, and your heart pounded in your chest.

For, truth be revealed, you had dressed up for him. Because wanted him to think you were beautiful. Because you thinking him were a young God with all the vigor and beauty.

Five really wanted to focus on anything but you. Not In the swing of your body, in the outline of your lips, in how he wanted to put you out of that dress. He really tried. But his eyes were always drawn to you at the end of the effort, as if you were the only thing worth seeing.

“You’re staring again.” Luther whispered in his right ear, while Five kept his eyes on you for a moment that seemed to him seconds, but to Luther it was hours.

But who could blame him? You looked like a mirage, too beautiful to be true. And Five wanted to record every detail of it in memory.

“Take care of your life!” He replied, taking his eyes off you.

After that night, Five already knew that he could no longer keep his hands off you. He couldn't just look at you anymore when the hunger to touch you started to hurt physically. As soon as you got back to the mansion, he grabbed you by the wrist, in a strong, firm grip, and pulled you with him as he climbed the stairs towards his own room.

Five needed you. A kiss, a caress, a body-to-body contact, anything, he just needed it. And it had to be now, he not wait for you to go home and come back later, he couldn't wait days...damn it! He couldn't wait seconds!

Then he knocked and locked the door behind you when you entered the his room.

“What the hell?” You rubbed your wrist that he must not have measured how much firmly him hold you “You're acting like a nut and I thin ...”

But Five didn't give you time to continue. He couldn't give you time. He could not explain something that for him was still a mess. So he showed you.

Five came to you in big, determined steps, and he fit your face in his hands before tilting and sticking his lips to yours. And then the world seemed to make sense for the first time.

Everything was suspended. The people, the rotation of the earth, the wind, the noise of the streets. Everything went into a black hole and was no longer important. The only thing that really mattered was you. And Five kissed you until the oxygen was strictly necessary.

“I have been waiting for this for some time.” You confessed, and Five blew out a low laugh, answering you with another kiss that ended up taking you to a bed and messy sheets.

After that night, Five became more attached to you, and the relationship grew stronger over the weeks.

“You know this is wrong, right?” You said as you took a look at the equations he had made that afternoon.

Five looked at you with a frown, irritation in his eyes, but you were trying to contain your laughter.

“You have nothing else to do no?”

“Besides seeing your accounts wrong? No.” You had fun, taking one of the white chalk Five was using and erasing an equation from it, redoing it in the right way.

You could feel his gaze on your back, but you did your best not to laugh and return the chalk complacently.

“Now it's right.”

Five looked at the account you redid, and gave you an expression of so few friends that you couldn't control your laughter anymore.

And his expression closed even more. You shook your head and were already on your way to the door when when you heard him mumbling:

“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

Then you laughed even harder and turned to Five, who had been doing his math again on the walls of his room.

“I heard that!”

“You were supposed to!” He countered without even waiting a second, and then you came back towards him, the laughter still present in your voice, your eyes full of play and love.

You put your arms behind his waist, still with the remnants of laughter coming from yours lips, and leaned your head against his broad back.

Five felt and heard your laughter, and then controlled himself not to laugh too, before giving yours hands that were hugging his waist a few gentle pats.

“You are unbearable.” You mumbled, but full of love overflowing with the words “But I love you.”

Then Five laugh came and he exchanged pats for an affectionate affection on yours hand, signaling that he also found you unbearable, but that he loves you.

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chocominnie · 4 years ago

Text

Wasted Times- Pjm.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: A lot of Fluff, Angry Sex, Slight BDSM, Dom!Jimin, Jealous Reader, Fuckboy!Jimin, oral sex, Penatration, Foot Job?, kissing, spankings, seriously lots of jealousy and tension, use of the word ‘’whore’’, exhibitionism, cum in pants

Word count: 5.8k

Authors Note: So this is a draft of mine from way long ago. It was also posted on another account I used to be apart of, but no longer am. It’s an oldie but goodie.

Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken.

Summary: Two weeks, five days and counting since you’ve last seen him. Two weeks since that sinful body was tangled in yours, where you both let out strings of moans and shared sloppy wet kisses. Two weeks.

If it wasn’t for Hoseok that whole night wouldn’t have happened. Despite you already knowing of Jimin, what you didn’t know is that looks can deceive. Oh yes, they deceived you very well. When you met him it felt like it was unreal? It felt as though you were talking to an angel. The butterflies in your stomach whenever he spoke made you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. So unreal.

A cute cheeky smile and a squeaky laugh. Someone’s who’s kind hearted, as what you previously had heard from Hoseok himself. Oh, but did he leave the major detail out from you.

He’s a fuckboy.

One that knows exactly how to play his cards right. Knows how to get into a girl's pants and make them melt with the sweet and dirty things that pout out his mouth like honey. He has the looks and charms for it. The hand he runs through his hair constantly, those pink full lips begging to be touched by someone else.

You’ve only recently found out about most of the girls he’s slept with. It wasn’t a lot but enough for him to qualify to get tested every month. All because he can’t keep his god damn dick in his pants. And you, the fool, fell for it. You fell for his ways.

Yet he pretends to know nothing. He pretends like he didn’t break your heart by saying he can’t commit to a relationship. He was just a one night stand. He fucking acts that nothing happened between you two prior to having sex.... and it hurts.

Now you’re sitting in your office stuck in-between whether to let that night go, or to bring it up with him. Because surely, he felt something too when you guys made love for an hour and a half right? Right?

‘‘Y/N. Did you hear me?’ ‘

You quickly snap back to reality to the nagging voice beside you. Taking a sip of your peppermint tea, you turn towards the young girl. Her full bangs compliment her perfectly shaped face. Her long, straight hair that curls at the end a bit is jet black with no sign of split ends or damage. She holds a blue folder tightly to her chest with a cheeky smile upon her face.

‘‘Mrs. Jane would like to see your work for this month’s upcoming project. Do you have the rough draft done?’ ‘

You nod, ‘’ I’ve finished it already. Are you collecting?’’ The girl nods her head and holds out her dainty pale hand. Next to you is your documents drawer which you rummage through for a good minute or so before finding your pink folder with all the information and sketches.

‘‘Thanks..’‘ She smiles, then walks away to her next prey. You let out a big sigh and place your hands in-between your head. Never have you had someone constantly be on your mind.

It was killing you.

‘‘ Child are you okay?’‘

You turn towards the voice to your left which sits next to you is your best-friend. Her smirk lets you know she knows what you’re thinking about. She knows. She also knows about that one night stand that you couldn’t shut up about two weeks ago.

You try to hold back your laugh, ‘’ I’m. fine.’’ You manage to choke out. She shakes her head again with that damned smirk on her face. ‘’ Was he that good that he has you sitting here contemplating life honey?’’

Your eyes go eyes go wide and soon enough you find yourself swatting her thigh while trying to cover your face of embarrassment. ‘’ Stop! Geez I shouldn’t have even told you about it.’’

‘‘ I knew about him before you even did. Once you told me after the fact, I automatically recognized who he was by the way you described his features so well.’‘ She shrugs, swiveling her chair around to face you. You do the same.

‘‘ What?’‘

‘‘ I went to high school with him. Park Jimin right? He was a ladies girl. Everyone wanted him. Plus he was a former dancer.’‘

Former dancer? It all makes sense. The way his body was nicely toned, not to muscly but noticeable. The way his hips moved every which way making sure his sinful area poked and pried at every nerve inside your walls. Made you let out strings of moans and whimpers because of how good he felt inside you. You’ve never felt something like that before. How dare he.

‘’ Well he has a cute friend. His name is Tae... Tae something. I don’t know but they were also friends in highschool. He was a handsome boy as well. If you would like to you know... tap that.’‘ She giggles.

Who does she think you are? Some type of person who gives away sex for a living? Definitely not. By the looks of your face she quickly abandons the subject. You decide it’s best to get back on task before your whore of a boss comes back around.

Only before that petite girl, with the bangs and perfectly trimmed straight hair, comes back with your folder and a ton of papers for you. As if this this day could get any worse.

‘‘ No I don’t want to go tonight.’’

It feels like you’ve said this on the phone more than ten times. You’re sure of it. He just doesn’t want to give up. You’d rather be in the comfort of your home cuddled up in a blanket watching Netflix all day. After-all, it is a Friday night and it has been a very stressful week for you in the office. A nice hot bath and a binge worthy tv show is all you want right now. It’s what you deserve.

‘‘ Come with us it’ll be fun. You can invite your hot best friend too.’‘ He says, and you know he’s smirking on the other line. ‘‘ Hoseok for one, you will not hook up with my best friend understand? Two, i’m tired. I want to sleep.’‘

‘‘ Oh come on Y/N it’ll be fun. It’s just a night out on the strip. It’ll be fun. I’m bringing Jimin.’‘ He tapers off at the end to wait for your reaction.

Could this be it? Another chance to see Jimin. Your chance to ask him.. if that night he felt something. Surely he did right?

‘‘ I’ll come. But that doesn’t mean i’m coming for Jimin. I’m bringing Scar with me as well.’‘

A few seconds of silence fills the other line. Which you know that Hoseok probably muted himself to scream in success. You take this time to think about what you’re going to wear. Something that’s eye catching? Or something that’s casual yet classy since it is just hanging around downtown. Why not do both?

Hoseok come’s back to the line and you notice he’s more cheerful. It makes you smile to yourself, how cute. ‘‘ Be there in 45 minutes. We’ll be waiting by Krystal okay? Meet us out front of that place.’‘

You two say your goodbyes and hang up the phone. Anticipation runs deep through you lacing your blood with it. Just the thought of seeing him again rubs you the right way.

Going into your closet, you take a good look at it and decide on a casual yet classy outfit. One that will surely catch his attention but very presentable as well. You hope that it’s going to pull through. Taking out your phone, you send a text message to Scarlet telling her all the details and to meet you here.

‘’This will be one hell of a night.’’ You smirk to yourself as you pull out the accessories to your outfit.

It wasn’t until you heard the doorbell constantly ring that broke you out of your trance of admiring yourself in the mirror. You look ravishing. Delectable. Every thing in the book. Surely you must have been admiring for quite some time because twenty minutes had passed and you didn’t even know it.

The doorbell ringing comes to a halt once you open the door forcefully. Scarlet greets you with a smile and a hug before coming inside.

‘’ Okay does this make my ass look bigger than it already is?’’

You glance over at Scarlet who’s posing in-front of the hallway mirror, earning a small chuckle from you. ‘’ Yes, that dress always look’s good on you.’’

Scarlet grins at you, ‘’ Thanks. I try I try. You look sexy Y/N. Who’s getting it tonight? ’’

You giggle once more before adjusting your black dress ‘’ You look so good Y/N i’m not lying. Did you put some make-up on?’’

You shyly nod your head yes, ‘’ Just a little. Not one of my dramatic looks.’’

‘‘ It suits the mood for tonight. Nothing to dramatic, more neutral.’‘ Scarlet says, picking up her purse again. ‘’ The dress does bring out your curves.’‘ She steps back and pulls out her phone for a snapchat picture.

The two of you pose in the mirror for a quick second then giggle afterwards. Scarlet brings her phone back down as her fingers begin to type at a rapid speed. ‘I’m going to caption it; Going out with my babe!’’

You on the other hand were to busy into the hearts snapchat filter with Scar in the background of your video. You tap her with a smile and she looks up with a smile as well. ‘’ We are so gonna be late Scar. ’’

‘‘ Okay. Let me just grab my purse and we can go.’‘

You can’t believe you’re actually doing this. The cool breeze is enough for you to handle. Not to cold and not to hot of a breeze. Downtown is busy tonight, especially the strip. The neon signs blare into your vision, the cars speed past with drunk laughing people. Music plays coming from each store or bar you two pass. There’s a jazz man who’s playing some cool tunes next to the giant water fountain. You drop a ten dollar bill into his case hoping to brighten those tunes up a bit. Couples are everywhere you look. You haven’t been downtown in such a long time. Everything feels so brand new to you. It’s so lively.

Scarlet walks confidently in-front of you, hips swaying naturally. You see Hoseok down the sidewalk waiting at the entrance for your arrival. Behind him is Jimin who looks fine tonight. He wears a long sleeve white Stussy t-shirt with black distressed jeans that show off his thighs. The same thighs that flexed with each thrust two weeks ago. The same thighs you wanted to ride because they had you soaking wet. Oh geez.

‘‘ Y/N! ahhh you look so good tonight!’‘ Hoseok grabs your hand and twirls you around a little. ‘‘ You’re right. Wow Y/N.’‘ A voice comes from behind him.

Part of you just wants to melt right into his arms right then and there. Keep it together.

‘‘ You don’t look bad yourself Jimin.’‘ It’s like your eyes refused to make eye contact with him. You want to, but can’t pull yourself to do it. ‘‘ And this is my best friend Scarlet.’‘

‘‘ Hello I’m Scarlet or Scar for short. Nice to meet you.’‘ She smiles, Jimin takes her hand and gives it a kiss. His eyes never leaves hers when he does so.

Scarlet lets out one of her nervous giggles as he lets her hand go. ‘’ How sweet.’’ Jimin smirks at her, ‘’ No worries. I’m Jimin, Park Jimin my love.’’

You almost choke at those last two words. My love? Seriously?

‘‘ Okay enough now that you’ve met my flirty friend who doesn’t know boundaries...’‘ Hoseok glares at him, earning a shrug from Jimin. ‘‘ .. I’m Hoseok. I’ve seen you on Y/N’s social media.. and I must say you are very pretty.’‘

‘‘ Thank you Hoseok. You are handsome as well.’’ She says.

You decide to end this introduction and start off the night. ‘‘ Alright enough of the talking. Can we have some fun tonight?’‘

‘‘ I agree, let’s get some drinks first.’‘

Only one hour in and you’ve only had one long island ice tea that you haven’t even finished yet. Somehow you’ve got tricked into third wheeling. Hoseok and Scarlet seem to be hitting it off very well walking in front of you. But walking next to you is a quite Jimin. He’s to busy scrolling and typing on social media for him to even notice you. Oh so you thought.

‘‘ Y/N...’‘

The butterflies in your stomach begin. What could he want? ‘’ Hmm.’’

Jimin locks his phone and places it in his pocket. He then looks at you with that oh so familiar warm smile. ‘’ They seem to be hitting it off well yeah?’’

Oh. ‘’ Yeah. I ship it.’’ You giggle, crossing your arms.’’ How have you been? Haven’t seen your pretty self in weeks.’’

‘‘ I’m fine. You know, work and stuff.’‘

‘‘ Yes I can say the same. I’ve got some things going on as well.’‘ His eyes shift back towards the busy city. ‘‘ I’d be lying if I didn’t say I missed you.’‘

You stop dead in your tracks. He missed you? All this time you had thought he didn’t care but he does? ‘’ Missed me huh. Or did you miss the idea of me.’’

He smiles, ‘’ Can it be both?’’

You decide to let that comment slide. ‘’ Well Jimin. I missed you too.’’

‘‘ Great so I can do this.’‘

You’re caught off guard by his lips connecting with yours. Both of you move in sync with each other. Jimin open’s his mouth more so his tongue can move more freely inside of yours. Both of your tongues fight for dominance making you moan inside the kiss. His hands cup your face, sending chills up your spine. Soon you find yourself whimpering for more, but you can’t let it go this far so you break away first.

‘‘ Hmm I missed those lips on mine. Sorry if I spooked you my love.’‘ Those dark brown eyes look deep into yours. ‘‘ I missed us talking constantly before we..’‘ He trails off, looking away from you smiling shyly.

‘‘ Yeah me too. We spent a lot of time texting and calling each other before that. But after that night we sort of.. stopped? I’ve been meaning to bring this up without it being awkward.’‘ You bite your lip, fiddling with your fingers.

Jimin looks around you guys. Scarlet and Hoseok are nowhere to be found. As he expected. ‘’ Well it looks like our friends ditched us. Have you eaten?’’

‘‘ I munched on something before I came here with you guys.’‘ You say, eyes shifting towards the city again. ‘‘ Well if you’re up for a little bit more of a walk I know this good place on the boardwalk. We are getting closer and closer to the beach.’‘

‘‘ Is this you asking me on a date Park Jimin?’‘ You giggle, covering your mouth with your hand. ‘‘ It can be considered our first friendly date. I would love to take you out some other time where it’s not last minute my love.’‘

‘‘ Stop saying that.’‘

‘‘ Saying what?’‘

You roll your eyes playfully, ‘’ My love. Stop saying it.’’

Jimin raises his eyebrows at you in amusement, ‘’ Did you just roll your eye at me.. my love?’’ Your cheeks have never hurt this much before from constantly smiling, but tonight you just cant stop them. ‘’ And if I did?’’

‘‘ I suggest you don’t do that again.’‘

The walk wasn’t as far as you thought. Jimin had linked his hand in yours on the way there. It surprised you for a minute but you let it happen. He hasn’t let go since. The two of you are sat down at a table outside by a waitress who cannot keep her eyes away from Jimin. Only if she knew how much of a sex god he was. Then she really wouldn’t be able to keep her eyes away.

‘‘ The moon looks beautiful tonight.’‘ He nods his head over towards the sky. Your eyes gaze over the sandy beach and waves that crash onto the shore. The moon lit sky peering over it looks beautiful.

Jimin brings both of your hands onto the table and intertwines them with his. A smile appears on his face when he sees you shyly try to hide your smile from him. Jimin’s most favorite feature of you is your smile, and moans of course, but your smile brings him happiness. It’s something about the way your lips curl up into a smile and your eyes narrow a little bit with it. Or when you laugh at one of his comments or jokes. It makes him happy inside and out.

‘‘ So, what were you saying earlier my love?’‘

You playfully roll your eyes again at that nickname. Before you can roll them again, Jimin’s smile drops and he let’s go of your right hand. You furrow your eyebrows at him for a second until you’re caught off guard with a tiny slap to the inside of your thigh. You hiss at the pain.

He says, ‘‘ Stop rolling your eyes at me. playful or not my love, I don’t like it.’‘

‘‘ Fine but stop calling me that nickname. You said it to Scarlet. Now I don’t want it anymore.’‘ You say, attitude high with your arms crossed.

Jimin chuckles and lets his tongue swipe across the inside of his jaw, ‘’Someone’s jealous.’’

‘’ I just see the name is useless is all if you’re calling other girls that.’‘

‘‘ Hmm jealous now aren’t we?’‘ He smirks, leaning back in his chair. ‘‘ Says the one who was all over me that night. Practically craving me. Now, what If i let someone else do that hmm? Equivalent to you calling other girls that name.’‘

His smirk never lets up. You know you trying to act all tough isn’t going to last. It’s just not in you. But what you can do is make him jealous and tease him for a while. You consider it a payback for those two weeks of hell you went through.

‘‘ I’m enjoying our night out Jimin. Thank you for taking the time to catch up with me tonight.’‘ Your face is innocent as ever, sipping on your water.

His expression changes when your foot travels up his leg and onto his crotch and slowly grazes over the tip of his dick. Jimin glares and bites his lip at the constant friction between the head and your foot going in agonizingly slow circles. He let’s both of your hands go to try and pry your leg away but you increase pressure making him choke out a small wince.

‘‘ Aww. Cute.’‘

Jimin’s head pops up with a death glare on his face, ‘’ Don’t call me that after you just tried to pull some type of stun-’’

Your foot begins it’s slow circles again. It’s fun watching him stop his sentences. The way he holds in his moans and bites his lip. It turns you on very much.

“Fuck,” He grunts, eye’s closed.

You stop once your food arrives. The same waitress that can’t keep her eyes off of Jimin. She makes eye contact with her, and he winks as she places the food in-front of him. Your face drops into a stone cold expression. Once the waitress leaves his head slowly turns towards you with his famous sly smirk. He knew just how to press your buttons.

You start back up again, going at an even faster pace at this point. He curses at himself and his eyes close again. You smile when he starts to shake his legs and breathe heavily. Only for Jimin’s eyes pop open with a devilish smile that confuses you. He grabs your leg and makes sure that your foot is positioned right ontop of his dick. He rolls his hips to the movement of yours, looking you dead straight in the eyes. You go along with it for now. But your eyes almost buck out of your head when he starts letting out moans and grunts as he throws his head back.

‘‘ Mmm fuck Y/N you do this so well.’‘

You’re at loss for words. The risk of being caught mixed with the sight you’re seeing now has your panties becoming wet.It takes all your might not to just jump over the table and devour him when he sighs in relief. You watch his body convulse of the aftershocks. So fucking sexy.

And as if nothing had just happened, he picks up his fork and begins to eat his pasta. The rest of the night is silent. You both eat in silence but in the inside you want to say something but you know better. The stunt you just pulled has something coming for you. Maybe payback wasn’t such a good thing after all.

After Jimin comes back from the restroom, assuming he cleaned himself up well down there, he sits back down at the table with a warm smile. It confuses you.

‘‘ Do you want to leave now? We can go to my place and just chill for the night. Looks like the two love birds might have already went back to one of their place’s.’‘ He says, grabbing your hand once again.

You nod your head dumbfounded at what you didn’t know that was going to happen at his place. But you agree to go. What can go wrong?

The moment you guys enter his luxurious apartment, he pins you against the wall and raises your hands above you head. He tilts your head and nips at your neck, alternating between kissing and sucking. He hit one of your sweet spots that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

‘‘ Please Jimin.’‘ You cry out. Slowly pulling away, he pulls you from against the wall and bends to dip an arm under your legs to lift you up bridal style.

He deeply chuckles into your ear, ‘‘ You have an eventful night planned out for pulling that stunt at the restaurant sweetheart.’‘ His words sends shivers down your spine.

Jimin closes the door behind him, giving you a taste of comfort before he has his way with you. He places you on his bed and you stare into those dark brown eyes that you love oh so much.

‘‘ Face down, ass up now.’‘ He growls.

You nod your head and do as told. Soon you feel your dress being unzipped and thrown to the floor. You’re in nothing but your bra and baby pink lace thong. His hands run up and down your spine, then to your ass.

‘‘ You ruined my pants today. Made me cum inside them since you wanted to feel like you had control over me.. babygirl.’‘ He says, hands stopping right above your ass.

‘‘ Count for me Y/N.’‘

You don’t even have time to take a breath in when the first hard impact comes. It wells tears in your eyes but you love it. You love every smack and every second of it. And so you count for him, you count all fifteen hits to your sore,red ass.

‘‘ You’ve taken your punishment well.’‘ Jimin says soothing the pain by rubbing over it softly. ‘‘ You looked so pretty doing what you’re told my beautiful girl. You deserve every inch of me. You deserve all of me.’’ His voice is soft and low. It intoxicates you.

Jimin shifts you onto your back, his hands tracing every inch of your body. You prop yourself up with your shoulders and you don’t jerk away, instead you let him lean in and kiss you passionately. The lewd sounds of the two of you sharing a wet, sloppy kiss can be heard throughout the apartment. You whine in his arms wanting more than just the kiss. He growls in return, yanking your head back to mark up that pretty neck some more. His hands swiftly makes their way towards your nipples, you moan out in response.

“mmm so cute and hard for me.” He flicks your hard nipples with his index and middle fingers on both your breasts. The way he speaks is sinful. Your panties grow even more wet as he pinches your nipples to make you whimper. “ Making pretty sounds for me hmm? Got you all wet baby?’’

With his hands dropping to your hips, he pushes you to lay down on the bed. Your breasts look so captivating to him. Your back arches when his lips connect to your right breast and soon to your left.

“Jimin...’’ You whimper, tugging on his hair to get him to look at you. He pauses the swirling of his tongue on your breast and looks up with lust filled eyes.

“ Yes sweetheart?” He coos.

‘’Off... t-take it off.’’ You whine, moving your hands towards his clothing and tugging on it firmly.

Jimin smiles before balancing on his knees to lift off his shirt. You watch him strip his shirt off, revealing his beautifully toned stomach and sharp v-line. You want nothing more than to run your tongue across him, leaving hickies behind.

Once he takes off his shirt, he dips back down to you to kiss your lips once more. ‘’ Your reaction was instantaneous, your back arching as your hands flew to his hair in shock at the pleasure it gave you. You really were sexually frustrated. Just him kissing you was all too much for you to handle.

As if he could tell what you wanted, his hand found its way to the hem of your lace thong. He feels how wet you were with his index finger sliding up and down your entrance. Your breath hitched as he slid them off with his teeth.

Your mouth instantly falls open when one thick finger slides inside you, your wetness pouring out beneath his finger. Once his finger is coated in your juices, he pulls out of you leaving you whimpering at the loss of friction. You watch him slide his wet finger into his mouth, his eyes close as he hums around it.

“You taste so fucking good. Let me have more of you yeah? He says, waiting for some type of consent from you.

You nod, wanting him more than ever.

Jimin props both your legs up onto his shoulder, licking his lips at the sight of your glistening core. You are left exposed to his lustful gaze as he took in the appearance of your swollen lips. Your lips spread apart to expose your clit that desperately seeks attention.

And so he provides it. His head dips down to get to work on your cunt. The pleasure you feel is outrageous, it has you clawing at his back, not even letting up, before letting out your never ending moans. You knew for a fact that Jimin’s tongue was a work of art when put to the test.

“Oh fuck! ” You yell out, arching your back when his lips begin to suck harshly on your clit, that bubbly feeling in your stomach appears.

“Do I make you feel good ? Hmm, use your words.” He encourages, using two fingers to spread your folds apart to lick and suck on your clit.

“It feels so good Jimin, oh my gosh, please don’t stop. Fuck!” You cry out, tossing your head back as you clutch onto the sheets once more, leaving his hair alone. As soon as he hears that, he seemed to lose control. His fingers start abuse your g-spot in sync with his sucking on your clit. That’s all you took for you to explode around his fingers. Your body spasms when you close your eyes. You can practically hear your heartbeat pounding in your head.

That doesn’t stop Jimin though. He continues to abuse your hole but you can’t handle the over-stimulation. You grip his wrists to stop him in which he obliges. He pulls his fingers out of you slowly and shows you them before sucking on them harshly.

“ Such a naughty girl now aren’t we.” He coos, rubbing your thighs that shake endlessly. “Want more princess?”

You nod your head, to busy lost in a trance. His words always get to you. A boy who knows his way with his words. The things that come out his mouth laced with either sweet venom or sugar. Damn him. Damn him for making you feel like this. Damn him for letting you fall under his ways.

You don’t realize all of his clothes were off until the head of his cock is sitting at your entrance. He’s a nice size, as you remember, but it’s the thickness that gets you. He has a lot of girth and it damn sure stretches you out.

“Shit, oh my gosh.” You moan, letting your head fall back as he starts easing into you.

“ Mmm babygirl,” He growls, using one of his hands to spread your lips, giving him the bes view of you taking him all the way. “Fuck just look at that baby. Your little pussy stretching to take my thick cock. Feels good yeah?”

“ Yes Jimin, fuck, it feels so good please. ” You whimper, wanting to feel all stuffed and full. Finally he bottoms out and you definitely feel it in you.

Jimin’s hands grip your hips as he starts to move inside of you. Since your previous orgasm residue was still there, mixing with your fresh juices, every time moved in and out your juices would drip.Lewd, wet slaps filled the room as the pace quickened, wanting to get you to cum again.

Your cries of pleasure filled the room. There was no point in hiding them now. With his hips moving at a fast pace, and his dick murdering your g-spot, it makes you feel that familiar feeling again.

“My good girl, you’re doing so well for me.” Jimin smiles, praising you as you become undone around him. Your hole spasms around his length and it feels like heaven for him. Jimin holds himself up on his elbows, resting his face against yours while he gently eases you through your orgasm.

“You don’t know the things your body does to me Y/N. The faces you make when i’m fucking your brains out. You look like you’re in pure ecstasy because of me and only me, baby.” He whispers, his lips hovering just above yours. You nod and press your lips against his. Smiling into the kiss, his hips begin fucking you again, getting up to his previous pace.

Your body is automatically put into over-stimulation mode. “Are you going to cum again for me?”

“Mhm, oh my god!” You whimper, closing your eyes shut harshly. Jimin pulls out of you, and starts to slide his cock up and down your folds to bring you to another orgasm. You let out a scream as Jimin watch your juices fly and soak everywhere around you both. Your death grip on the sheets havent left and your back is arched so high from the bed that he has to bring you back down.

“Fuck, that’s it. You’re squirting princess.” He praises you, smiling as he doesn’t stop movement, juices everywhere. “You’re squirting so much baby look at you.’’

The feeling is too much for you so you shut your legs around him. Jimin smiles at you when you finally open your eyes. They hardly stay open but long enough for you to see him get himself off using his right hand. You open your mouth to say something, but he interrupts “Shh princess, you’re too sensitive. Maybe next time.”

You nodded with a small pout on your lips. You want him to cum inside you. To feel his hot sperm coat your insides. Your body says otherwise. You are spent, exhausted to the max..

Just as he is about to cum, you sit up and climb over to him. Your mouth quickly finds it’s way to his length and as if a habit, you begin to suck. ‘’You don’t have to princes- fuck.’’ He groans, releasing his load inside your mouth while you deep throat all his length.

Soon you pull away from his cock after he cums. You open your mouth to show him and then swallow it all down. ‘’ Filthy whore.’’ He smirks, pecking your lips.

Jimin kisses your forehead once more, before lifting up and disappearing into the bathroom. He returns with a warm, wet towel to clean up the mess between your legs. Your eyes flutter open and close. You catch a glimpse of his nicely toned back when he turns to disregard the towel. He comes back again with a green t-shirt which makes your heart flutter as he pulls it over your head. Another forehead kiss, then those nose, then the lips.

‘’ Jimin?’‘ You coo.

He climbs in bed beside you, ‘’ Yes?’’

‘’ We never discussed what we are...’’ You say quietly, picking at your fingers.

He laughs softly, ‘’ You know I can’t commit right now. I have too many things going on and-’’

‘’ Excuses Jimin.’’ You pout, turning away from him. ‘’ Aww come on don’t be like that. Listen, if I ever get my life together and the ladies off of me you’ll be the first one I run to, my love.’’

‘’ Promise?’’

‘’ I promise.’’

Oh so you had thought. Another two weeks had passed and the same thing happened. Now you’re stuck in your office again contemplating life, as Scarlet would say. The only difference is, he texts you more often. Usually good morning and goodnight texts. An occasional ‘how was your day.’

You can’t help but to wonder what he’s probably doing with other girls. Feeding them empty promises. Saying sweet nothings in their ears. Letting them hear what they want to. It’s no doubt he knows what he’s doing. No doubt.

Only if he hadn’t wasted your time.

Two weeks and counting since you’ve last seen him. Two weeks since that sinful body was tangled in yours, where you both let out strings of moans and shared sloppy wet kisses. Two weeks.

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

Text

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar Lessons 10-12

Masterlist

Time for a Freaky Friday situation, an Isekai situation, and a fun family trip! And what’s a fun family trip without helping your uncle who is trapped in an attic and trying to raise a cat with your half-brother/uncle/whatever whose in your father’s body? Dear Grandfather God… get MC some help-

Let’s pick up where we left off last time with MC and Belphie >:)

“No need to be nervous, I won’t bite.” Belphie tapped his knuckles against the door he was leaning on to emphasize his point. “And I can’t on account of the magic door.”

“Why…” MC began before straightening their posture and clearing their throat. “What are you doing up here? I was told you were in the human world.”

“As you can see,” Belphie sighed. “I’m not. I’ve been stuck in the attic since before you got here.”

“But why?”

“Lucifer.”

MC narrowed their eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He locked me up here, rude, right?” Belphie’s carefree tone heavily contrasted how tense his shoulders were as he leaned oh-too casually on the doorframe. “To cut right to the chase, I need your help.”

“My… help..?”

“Yep. I need you to get me out of here.” Upon seeing MC’s scandalized expression, he raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Calm down, I’ll explain.”

Belphie began his explanation. “So, Lucifer and I got into a little brotherly spat that got blown out of proportion, it was really all a misunderstanding. I want to be able to have a civil conversation with Lucifer that isn’t marred by my… prison.”

“Mammon told me that you opposed the exchange program, and that’s why you got sent to the human world.” MC said quietly. Ugh, they almost cursed themselves out then and there for all the muttering they were doing. They weren’t some guilty child!

Belphie had a look on his face that MC had seen on the five other brothers. The look that always preceded one of the brothers calling Mammon a scumbag, a moron, an idiot, or something equally nasty. The look quickly disappeared as Belphie gave MC a halfhearted shrug.

“I was, yes. But I couldn’t care less about that now.” Belphie waved his hand in the air like he was waving off the whole issue. “It was my bad, really. I was being unreasonable, and I got pissed.”

“What exactly do you need me to do to get you out of there?” MC asked, clenching and unclenching their fist to get the tension out.

“I need you to undo the spell holding the door shut. If you were anyone else, I’d be asking you to make pacts with my brothers in order to override Lucifer’s spell and open the door,” Belphie’s eyes flashed again. “But you… you can just use some of your magic, can’t you? I assume Lucifer passed some of his power down to you?”

MC stiffened and took a step back from the door. “How did you-”

“MC, I’ve lived with Lucifer for over five thousand years, I know his magical signature as well as I know my own, and yours is too damn close to his to be a wild coincidence. And,” Belphie gestured at MC. “You look and act like a mini him. It’s cute, honestly.”

MC frowned, cute?! MC wasn’t cute! But that was a… decent explanation..?

“So,” Belphie took a step back from the door. “Put your hand on the door, and try to open it. You might feel some magical resistance but if your magic is similar enough to Lucifer’s you might be able to open it without any difficulty at all.”

MC reached out, then hesitated. “How do I know you aren’t lying to me?”

“MC, you’re my brother’s kid. I don’t want this dumb fight between me and Lucifer to break my family apart. Besides, it’ll be nice to have you as a part of the family too. I don’t want to sully that by being stuck up here.”

Part of the family? MC’s eyes practically sparkled. A real part of their new family… they looked up at Belphegor and nodded.

“Okay, here I go…” MC tentatively placed their hand on the door.

It began to burn at an intensity that nearly made MC scream and collapse on the spot. Their hand was glued to the door as the door’s spell seemed to crawl its way up their arm. MC countered with the biggest burst of their own magic they could possibly muster.

The blast of bright blue that slammed into the door made it creak back and forth slightly, but the spell held its ground.

MC snatched their hand back and stared expectantly at the door. They swayed on their feet slightly as they looked up at Belphegor, who tapped the door. When blue sparks met his hand, he frowned.

“It didn’t… it didn’t work… I’m…” MC paused before they apologized, they didn’t have to. They tried their best, didn’t they? They just needed to get a better hold of their magic. “I’ll get stronger, I’ll get better at magic and then I’ll come back and open the door.”

Belphie sighed in relief and smiled at MC. “Thank you, MC. You’re really helping me out here, you’re sweet.” Belphie then crouched ever so slightly to get to MC’s level, and smirked conspiratorially. “You know, all powerful demons need snacks to recharge their magic, right? Mammon has a massive stash of candy that he thinks is secret hidden in one of the potted plants in the planetarium. You didn’t hear this from me though.”

They gave Belphegor a small smile. “I’ll get you out soon, okay?”

“I trust that you will.”

———

Disgusting.

That was the one thought that permeated through Belphegor’s mind when he first saw MC.

The thought remained throughout the entire first encounter, and the feeling of roiling nausea only grew when MC’s attempt to break Lucifer’s spell failed spectacularly. Belphie tried as best as he could to follow MC’s retreating form down the attic hallway, but his vision was limited.

A half demon. Truly Lucifer had fallen from whatever grace he still had left from a time where his youngest brother actually respected him.

A half human child. Did Lucifer truly have no self respect? A proud high ranking demon, the second strongest in the entire Devildom, in fact, had a half human child.

How monumentally stupid.

Belphegor was no stranger to half-demons, he had been alive far too long to have never come across one. A few hundred years ago they were much more common, running around the human world wreaking havoc and scurrying around the Devildom like scared mice. The duality always made Belphie smile. They may have been beings of pure terror in the human world, but their demon half could never compare to real demons in the Devildom.

Asmodeus held the unofficial record for most half demon children, obviously. As much as Belphegor absolutely detested humans, he couldn’t exactly fault his older brother. Asmo was the Avatar of Lust after all, and the Avatar of Sloth of all people couldn’t judge him for indulging in his sin every once and a while.

Hell, even Satan and Mammon occasionally had children pop up in the human world. The difference, the thing that made all the difference was that they never brought their… spawn home. They never brought their half-human little monsters into his home.

What gave Lucifer the right to do so? The right to bring that into Belphegor’s home? One of the beings responsible for the death of their sister. His sister. Did he not care about that at all?!

Belphegor collapsed onto the bed in the attic, ruffling his hair and shutting his eyes.

The brat couldn’t even break the door.

The thought almost caused Belphegor to laugh. The little brat couldn’t even break the door.

He cracked up, muffling his laughter with his hand. The child was Lucifer’s and they couldn’t even fully break the door. My my, how the mighty have fallen. It had taken over three months for Belphegor to even get close to being able to get into that little brat’s head to call them up to him, and they couldn’t even break the door?

Belphie’s borderline hysterical laughter at the sheer absurdity of the situation stopped abruptly as he looked around the room. Something-

Someone was glaring at him.

His eyes instinctively darted to the door, the most logical conclusion was that the brat had snitched and Lucifer was at the door. But the hallway was empty. The feeling of being watched made him shudder, then stiffen. He tilted his head and sat in silence. No sound, just the familiar smell of…

The Celestial Realm.

Belphie dragged a hand down his face and growled, lying back down and clamping his eyes shut. He needed to sleep.

So, that was the first problem MC had to face that month, the second was the fact that Satan snuck a cat into the house and he and MC were co-parenting it in secret. The third problem was Satan was still acting like a massive dickwad. All this fighting wasn’t good for baby Detective Toe Beans!

After receiving the “Lucifer got so mad he gave birth” talk from the other brothers, MC could have had their own rage-baby then and there.

I have never regretted typing a sentence more, but anyway, MC was on a warpath to find Satan.

‘Calm down,’ MC thought to themselves as they walked down the hallway of the HOL. ‘Don’t overreact, maybe this is all some big misunderstanding.’

The demon they were hoping to find was walking down the hallway in the opposite direction. Satan gave MC a half nod and barely acknowledged them.

“Hi Satan!” MC chirped, trying to sound as friendly as possible. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

After being so coldly snubbed, MC stood in the hallway completely motionless, until of course the little voice crawled its way up their spine and nestled in the base of their skull.

‘Who does he think he is?’

MC squared their shoulders and started after Satan, resolute in their totally non-suicidal goal of chastising him for his behaviour.

“Satan!” MC threw his door open and crossed their arms, the room was a complete mess of books and loose papers as usual, the Avatar of Wrath himself was sitting on his bed with his nose in a book. “We need to talk.”

“Do we now?” Satan drawled, not looking up from his book. That stupid encyclopedia must’ve been the most interesting thing in the god damn universe for Satan not to look up and see MC seething with a kind of pure rage only preteens we’re capable of. “Walking into people’s rooms without knocking is rude, you know. Let’s talk about that.”

“Honestly can you not be a smartass for a few seconds and just fucking look at me?!”

The sudden cursing got Satan to raise an eyebrow and look up. “What do you want, MC?”

“I want to know what the hell your problem with me is.” MC said, attempting to keep their voice as level and calm as possible. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you since I got here, and you’ve been nothing but a massive jerk!”

“Did you ever stop to think that I just don’t like you?”

“For what reason? What did I do?!”

“You look exactly like him!” Satan finally snapped. “Another Lucifer prancing around the house like they run the place!”

“So to you I’m just another Lucifer..?” MC asked, then let out a humourless laugh. “Are you… are you fucking kidding me right now? You’re pegging me as another Lucifer? You?”

Satan bristled, his eyes began to flash green, MC’s own eyes had begun to show a slight blue tint. “What are you implying?”

“I’m ‘implying’ that you, Satan, the one who was born of Lucifer’s wrath, calling me a copy of Lucifer is literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever had the misfortune of hearing.” MC snarled, almost every fibre of their mind was screaming to transform and teach Satan a lesson, but they held back. “You hate Lucifer, anyone with two brain cells can see that, but you don’t see how stupid you’re being?!”

In an instant Satan yanked MC up by the front of their shirt and let out a low growl. “Do you want to repeat that, half-breed?”

“You’re being an idiot.” MC’s bratty, teasing tone couldn’t fully hide the boiling anger that was just beneath the surface. “You think you have the right to demand that people see you as different from Lucifer, yet you don’t grant me the same courtesy.”

With that, Satan’s demon form was out and less than a second later so was MC’s. The half-demon’s foot shot out and hit Satan right in the knee, the Avatar of Wrath staggered backwards slightly which allowed MC to back away until they felt their back hit a pile of books.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds, daring the other to make a move, when the door to Satan’s room slammed open. There stood enemy number one, Lucifer.

“What the hell are both of you doing?” Lucifer hissed, his eyes flicking between Satan and MC.

“STAY OUT OF THIS!”

With Satan and MC’s combined shout, books began to shoot off the shelves and off the tops of piles. The books whizzed around the room, crashing into things and making the room even more of a mess.

“Both of you calm down!” Lucifer growled, both Satan and MC turned to shout at him again.

“JUST SHUT UP!”

Quick as lightning, a book shot towards MC, time seemed to slow as the spine of the book brushed past their nose as they stumbled out of its way. MC was out of the book’s path, but now it was speeding directly towards Lucifer.

Satan, most likely desiring to protect his book from Lucifer-germs, dove forward to grab the book while Lucifer prepared to catch it with an outstretched hand. The moment the two touched the book a blinding flash of light engulfed the entire room, leaving everything completely still.

Huh, well that happened. Argument paused, gather everyone.

Satan and Lucifer switched bodies… coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool-

Wait why are they staying in MC’s room?!

Lucifer (in Satan’s body) pulled the “you live under my roof you follow my rules” card, and MC got to work ordering a tent on Akuzon. Their tent, their rules.

“Satan! We have a bit of a problem with you agreeing to stay in my room with Lucifer!” “And what’s that problem, MC?” “Uh, I don’t know, THE DETECTIVE.”

Satan completely forgot that they were hiding a cat from Lucifer. Whoops!

When Lucifer stomped out of MC’s room later that day holding the cat the two knew they were screwed.

MC and Satan had to compromise their dignity and beg Lucifer to not take away their poor kitty. Lucifer just grumbled that he’d deal with this when he got back into his own body.

Body switching shenanigans were abound, Mammon and Satan were working together to make Lucifer look as ridiculous as possible without breaking any of the ground rules everyone laid out.

This all culminated in getting Mammon hung from the ceiling.

That night, MC tried to ignore Satan and Lucifer’s sleep talking, but it was a fruitless endeavour.

The only good part of that arrangement was the fact that Bean refused to snuggle up to Satan while he was in Lucifer’s body, and Lucifer didn’t want the cat near him while in Satan’s body, so MC got all the snuggle time with their favourite kitty.

While Bean’s intense purring was adorable, it wasn’t loud enough to drown out Lucifer and Satan’s rampant sleep talking.

“Fuck you Lucifer…” Satan in Lucifer’s body mumbled. “Gonna fuckin rip your head off…”

“Diavolo you can’t just get me another dog…” Lucifer in Satan’s body grumbled before letting out a snore.

MC rolled their eyes and looked at their cat. “Can you believe this shit, Bean?” They whispered.

Bean responded by pawing at MC’s face. What a big baby with such cute widdle eyes omigoodness what a baby baby-

Having enough of that tomfoolery, MC gently placed Bean down on their bed, and tiptoed out. They ended up doubling back to their room and grabbing one of their books.

Sneaking up to the attic a second time was much easier than the first attempt. It had been a week since their first encounter with Belphie and MC thought that he might want an update.

“So yeah… that’s what’s happening right now.”

Belphie appeared to be suppressing a laugh as he nodded and cleared his throat. “Mm… that’s… very unfortunate.”

“It’s not that funny.”

MC and Belphie stared at each other for a few seconds, before both of them broke out into a fit of giggles.

“Okay,” MC relented. “It’s kind of funny…”

“So, any updates on the plan?” Belphie asked, MC responded with a noncommittal shrug.

“Well, almost everyone has welcomed me in with pretty open arms, so I don’t think they’d question it if I asked them to come up here and get you out.”

“Almost everyone?” Belphie tilted his head as he leaned on the wall next to the door.

“Yeah… um…” MC quickly looked away and pursed their lips. “Satan… you know?”

“Ah,” Belphie’s usual lazy smile reappeared. “Satan’s going to be a tough one to win over. You know why, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Lucifer told you?”

“No actually,” MC mumbled. “Mammon, Beel, Levi, and Asmo did.”

Belphie’s eyes flashed for a brief moment, like MC had just offered him a present, but it was so quick MC barely took notice.

“I’m guessing he must be keeping a lot of stuff from you, huh?”

MC crossed their arms and shrugged. “Kinda… I guess. He kept you being in the attic a secret, he’s keeping the reason the Grimoire is in the Underground Tomb a secret…” MC frowned as all the strange little secrets began to come to light. Their father’s practically fanatical loyalty to Diavolo, the reason for the Celestial War, the reason no one talked about Lilith…

“Hm,” Belphie sighed. “It sucks that Lucifer doesn’t really tell you anything.”

“Mhm…” MC looked down at their feet, until they remembered the other reason they went up to visit the attic. “Oh! I brought you something!”

They held out the book to Belphie, carefully sliding it between the gaps in the door. “It’s a manga Levi recommended to me, I read it and it’s awesome! I thought you might be bored up here, so I brought it up for you to read.”

When Belphie took the book he stared at it like it was a completely foreign object, then his features melted into a smile. “Thank you, MC.”

“Right!” MC smiled proudly. “I’ll work on my magic, and on my relationship with Satan, then I’ll bust you out of here!”

Belphie chuckled and gave a thumbs up. “Good luck, kiddo. I believe in you.”

The seeds of discord were planted and the local attic cowboy was being one hell of a gardener. I need to stop typing take my phone away from me.

When MC left the attic, the first thing they heard was Mammon crying in the stairwell. It seemed that even the HOL’s ghosts were annoyed with all his whining.

“MC… help meeeeee…” “You’re hanging there for a reason, Mammon. I’m not going to disturb your punishment.” “MCCCCCCCCC!”

Don’t worry, MC did some sick maneuvers and cut Mammon down! Hooray!

“You now owe me a life debt.” “Wait what-” “We’re fixing my and Lucifer’s relationship with Satan.” “…kid if you smoked the weed in my room just tell me, I won’t be mad.”

No dear uncle Mammon, MC was not high on the devil’s lettuce, they were high on the power of family!

Time to fire up Doji Magi!

Obviously MC wasn’t the protagonist, everyone was trying to woo this random generic anime character (tm)

It wasn’t going good for anyone other than Levi. MC wasn’t even allowed to properly participate because Lucifer didn’t approve of his child getting involved in this degenerate anime stuff.

Too late Luci-goosey, your kid was a weeb long before they came to the Devildom

Of course, come graduation day, things got much more fun.

“THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!” MC screamed with delight as they swung a folding chair at an oncoming monster.

Mammon was having decidedly less fun as he dealt with his share of the monsters that had suddenly spawned into the game. “MC what the hell are ya talkin’ about?! This is crazy!”

“Can both of you shut up?” Lucifer said as he calmly snapped a monster’s neck. “Get to the roof, all of you.”

“This was very well foreshadowed I’m very impressed.” Satan said, Levi nodded enthusiastically.

“I know! All those hidden lore bits were so fun to find.”

“Wait, lore?” Mammon asked, he turned to MC. “What’d we miss while we were in fake detention?”

As the group continued to make their way up the steps to the roof, downing monsters left and right, MC turned to Satan and laughed. “You’re absolutely drenched right now.”

Satan smirked and flicked some of the monster goop onto MC. “You don’t look any better.”

“Ew!” MC stuck out their tongue and leaned to the left, looking behind Satan. “There’s a monster behind you by the way.”

“Ah,” Satan turned and punched the monster so hard in the forehead that its skull caved in. “Thank you, MC.”

The rooftop was filled with significantly less monsters than the rest of the school, and it uh… oh… hm… gamer instincts were tingling.

“Hey, this is a lot of negative space…” Levi picked a medpack up off the floor. “And an odd collection of healing items…”

“Where’d all the enemies go..?” Mammon asked tentatively.

“Better question,” MC piped up. “Where’s the music?”

Right after those words left MC’s lips, the door to the rooftop burst open, revealing a very familiar three headed doggo that MC and Lucifer so adored. It was Cerberus! Who looked positively murderous!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Mammon shrieked and hid behind Levi.

“Oh… that’s what all the dog imagery meant.” Satan said. “I thought it was odd that all the books in this school’s library had something to do with dogs.”

“Yeah! Aw, it all makes sense now!” Levi exclaimed.

“Cerberus,” Lucifer stepped forward and crossed his arms. “Sit.”

Cerberus, did not in fact, sit. He instead growled like a monster truck, and the acidic looking drool that was falling from his gaping jaws was an indicator that the giant pupper was quite hungry.

“Uh… bad dog?” MC offered. With that, Cerberus charged forward.

Mammon, Levi, and MC dodged to the left while Lucifer and Satan dove to the right.

“Shit! How are we supposed to fight Cerberus!?” Levi squeaked.

“Maybe we can- SATAN WATCH OUT!”

Cerberus had decided to ignore Lucifer and rush straight towards the fourth born, whose weapon of choice had just decided to break, and MC had a sneaking suspicion that Satan wouldn’t be able to punch all three of Cerberus’ heads at once.

“CERBERUS!” Lucifer shouted, causing everyone to freeze in place. “YOU LAY A HAND ON MY BROTHER AND I WILL [Hello, this is the narrator, Lucifer has asked that I censor what he said because he doesn’t want this to end up reflecting badly on Diavolo].”

It was thirty seconds into the very vulgar threat before Levi thought it would be a good idea to cover MC’s ears. Game-Cerberus whimpered and sat down, much to the utter amazement of everyone.

“Wow, I can curse in Latin now!” MC chirped.

“MC, you will forget what you heard.” Lucifer sighed.

“Of course, father!” MC said sweetly, they then leaned over to Levi. “Noooooot.”

Yay, the fam’s out of the game! L!MC and Satan both agreed that Cerberus would never in a thousand years listen to either of them and they should just depend on Lucifer to deal with their homicidal pupper.

Good news, in the days after the game, glasses related thefts went down 100%! Also, pranks relating to Lucifer’s coffee being turned into vinegar went down 83%!

Satan was chilling out :D… but Lucifer still had a speech to give and he was not about to trust the guy who filled the house with cats once.

It was time for a visit to the human world to go find a witch!

“Come on! I wanna see the horsies!” Mammon whined, hanging off of Lucifer in Satan’s body like a petulant little kid. The actual kid rolled their eyes and snorted.

“Let’s be honest with ourselves, Mammon.” Lucifer said. “You want to see the horses so you can find the one you’re going to bet all our money on.”

“Of course I wanna see the horse I’m gonna bet on!So can we gooooooo?!”

Satan in Lucifer’s body finished off the last of his gelato and scoffed. “No, we’re not going to bet the house on the ponies, Mammon. We’re going to spend it on-”

The high pitched shriek that left MC caused everyone to whirl in their direction as the half demon jumped up and down and frantically pointed at a sign. They were clearly trying to sputter out some kind of explanation of what had them so excited, but no one could understand a word.

“MC, calm down-”

“It’s the musical!”

“What-”

“I’ve watched so many analysis videos on this! Father! Father! The music in this is supposed to be insane! I wanna see! I wanna see! You gotta let me see!” Every single word was punctuated by MC jumping up and down to the point that Lucifer was actually concerned their wings might pop out and they’d take flight.

Right in the middle of one of their jumps, Satan caught them and held them up in front of Lucifer. “Oh dearest brother of mine, your poor spawn wants to see the show- hang on it’s this one?” Satan did a double take at the sign for the show. “Now I actually want to see this.”

Lucifer finally shoved Mammon off of him and got a good look at the sign, at least two out of the three people he was travelling with had taste. “Yes, we can watch the show.”

“Yay!” MC clapped their hands, then noticed their feet weren’t touching the floor and turned to look at Satan. “Uh, Satan, you know you can put me down, right?”

“No, I don’t think I’m going to do that,” Satan said as the group began their walk towards the theatre. “It’s fun having you up as a half-human meat shield.”

“Hey!”

A distinct interest of MC’s had been discovered by the rest of the group that day when they started rambling and explaining the intricacies of musical theatre and opera to a very confused Mammon. Lucifer and Satan exchanged amused glances as MC continued to rapidly explain increasingly more confusing parts of music.

“So that’s the main difference between recitative and an aria,”

“Uh huh…”

“So technically Hugh Jackman is wrong in his explanation that Val Jean’s soliloquy in the movie adaptation of Les Miserables is recitative because it’s more of an aria because Val Jean is basically screaming about his emotions.”

“Hugh Jackman? Wolverine?”

“Yeah, Wolverine. Anyway back to leitmotifs-”

MC’s animated explanation continued all the way until the four were sat down in their seats and the show began. Mammon, of course, started fully weeping whenever anything sad happened. It was intermission when Lucifer and Satan finally had enough of it.

“Mammon…” Satan rubbed his temples and glared at the sobbing second born. “I swear, if you don’t stop crying, I’m going to strangle you…”

“Do it like the Phantom of the Opera.” MC offered.

“What?” Satan asked.

“Lasso noose.”

Mammon loudly blew his nose and shoved popcorn a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Musical theatre is so fuckin’ weird…”

MC 🤝(being a musical theatre nerd) 🤝 Lucifer

So after the play, they hopped on the train and MC and Mammon stuck their heads out the window to baa at some nearby sheep. The sheep responded, Mammon and MC can speak sheep confirmed.

Of course, Mammon went off and got involved in the murder of the very witch they were trying to find.

“Only one version of events is ever true!” Satan proclaimed to the three unfortunate bastards that were also involved with the crime.

Lucifer looked from the dead body that was covered in a tablecloth, to MC. He made an awkward attempt to cover their eyes, but even he seemed confused by the action.

“Father, it’s fine.” MC lightly moved their father’s hand away and pulled something out of their brand new bag. “Satan, here!”

MC held up a Sherlock Holmes cap. “It’ll make you look more like a detective.”

“Thank you, MC.” Satan put the cap on and turned back to the crime scene in front of him. “I’m going to solve the shit out of this.”

Hearing those words come out of Lucifer’s mouth even knowing that it was Satan saying them made Mammon forget he was being accused of murder and laugh like a maniac. This did not help MC and Satan’s “Mammon’s not crazy” case.

MC and Levi had spent a week playing Danganronpa nonstop, MC was ready for this!

After clearing Mammon’s name, the ghost of the witch showed up and told the gang to solve her murder and she’d undo the body switch curse.

“The killer is, YOU!” MC and Satan pointed at the culprit with flourish.

“You have no proof!”

“I’m afraid we do in fact have proof.” Satan smirked triumphantly. “The other two suspects were too far away or standing up,”

“And the knife entered the body at a downward angle,” MC continued. “The only person close enough to stab the victim like that is you.”

“So suspect number 3,” The two said together. “You’re the dumbass who did it!”

“Did they rehearse this?” Mammon leaned over to ask Lucifer.

“No idea.”

Yay! Murder solved! Time for the life lesson!

“If only I had trusted him to be my apprentice…” “oh wow what a convenient life lesson, right father? Right Satan? Trust?”

“…” “…”

Satan and Lucifer got poofed back to normal and everyone got to go home. Lucifer, like in canon, lets Satan give the speech because he learned that he needs to trust his brother more and have a little bit of faith.

The speech is a success, and life returns to normal, but better. Satan and MC build up their relationship and after a few weeks, it was like the stuff from the beginning of the year never happened.

The attic was Belphegor’s favourite nap spot, though at the moment, Belphie didn’t want to sleep in the attic. He had been stuck up there for the past four months, and the only form of social interaction he had was sporadic chats with Lucifer or the half-human.

He must have been going completely mental up there because he was actually wishing he was talking to the kid, at least the brat was nice to him…

“Belphie!”

The cheery voice of the little “angel” echoed down the hall, Belphie found himself smiling at the sound, at least before he realized what he was doing. MC appeared at the door, practically bouncing on their toes.

“Belphie Belphie Belphie!” MC waved their DDD in the air.

“MC MC MC.” Belphie repeated. He leaned against the wall next to the door and yawned. “Nice to see you again, any updates?”

MC flicked through their DDD and gave Belphie a thumbs up. “I’ve been practicing my magic and stuff, but that’s not what I’m up here for.” They held up their DDD to show Belphie a picture.

“Beel’s team won their game-thing!”

The picture showed Beel in his team uniform eating an entire pie with a medal around his neck, the rest of the brothers and MC were posed for the picture around him. “I have no clue how this sport is supposed to work or what the rules are, but apparently he won, so that’s good!”

Any traces of Belphie’s half decent mood vanished as he looked at the picture. Everyone seemed… really happy. Levi, Asmo, Satan, Mammon, Beel, all of them, looked happy. Happy without him…

“That’s… great, MC.”

—————

Belphegor truly didn’t think he’d pity the human he vowed to kill. MC was literally a mixture of everything he hated, humans, Lucifer, Diavolo’s stupid exchange program… but yet, Belphegor felt pity.

The way MC lit up when they talked about the fun things they had done with the brothers and the other exchange students, how they went up to the attic to keep him company when they had a spare bit of time… they did all of that without knowing that Belphegor despised them. It was honestly pitiful.

Though, the Avatar of Sloth’s feeling of detest had somehow lessened. The little half demon had managed to get their hooks in him. Unfortunately for them, it only made Belphegor’s blood boil more. His brothers adored that little brat, it was plain to see. The half human had won them all over, like half of MC’s ancestry wasn’t responsible for the death of their little sister.

Belphegor narrowed his eyes as he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had been stuck up there long enough to have counted every knot in the wood, every nail and plank, and every spider that managed to crawl through the cracks. The familiar feeling of guilt began to twist in his stomach. His sister died because Beel chose to save him. He should have been more careful… he shouldn’t have taken her to the human world…

‘It’s their fault.’ Belphie tried to push any and all thoughts other than that out of his head. ‘That human killed her. If they had never met she wouldn’t have died.’

Repeating that over and over did not expel the roiling feeling of guilt that crawled its way up Belphie’s spine and constricted his ribs.

“I hate you…” Belphie growled. MC was the reason for all this, weren’t they? They were the reason he wasn’t with his family, they were the reason they could be happy without him, yet even repeating his declaration of hatred like a mantra didn’t make the guilt go away. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!”

A sudden sharp yank on Belphie’s ear made him lurch upwards and look around the room. Nothing.

It was a childish gesture, wasn’t it? A sharp pull to his ear, a habit he knew all too well belonged to…

It belonged to…

…

Belphegor needed to sleep.

———————

Sup my witches, bitches, and bastards, we’re reaching the exciting part :D the part you angst hungry sickos (affectionate) are waiting for! ✨ lesson 16 ✨ next time, we’re doing the buildup, then after that, ANGST COUNTRY BABY!

Reblogs are very appreciated!

#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Satan #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me MC #obey me! headcanons #obey me! lucifer #obey me! mammon #obey me! satan #obey me! belphegor #obey me! leviathan #Obey me Fic

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y-so-hungry · 3 years ago

Text

Midnight Food For Thought

Beelzebub x MC

Ok I wasn't sure whether to write it as "MC did this, they did that" or "you did this, you did that" or even "I did this, I did that" for this fic, so I went with the first option, lemme know if you guys prefer it a different style (I don't mind any way) and I'll keep that in mind for if/when I write another one of these!

This wasn’t the first time MC had gone downstairs for a midnight snack and found Beel already in the kitchen, but this was the first time they’d seen him in demon form at this hour. They supposed that’s why they lingered just by the steps, watching rather than going in. Not that he was scary in this form, but they worried he was upset, and would rather not be bothered. Beel didn’t have his head in the fridge like usual, oddly enough he seemed to be making something. Usually he was too hungry and tired at night to cook, so it was rather odd to see him kneading dough.

What was odder than that was it seemed he didn’t actually have any other ingredients out, just flour and a cup of water next to him. MC watched for a couple more minutes as he continued making more and more of this dough, adding flour and water and flour and water over and over again until the ball of dough was as wide as a dinner plate. That seems to be when he ran out of flour.

He sighed an oddly miserable sigh, and MC watched in confusion as he took a handful of dough and started… eating it. And it was only when he sat down a second later that they actually caught sight of his face.

There were tears running down his cheeks.

“Beel?” they said, finally calling attention to themself. Beel snapped up, fear flashing through his violet eyes before he saw them. After that, all that showed on his face was a mixture of guilt and embarrassment, his face turning as red as his hair and eyes filling with even more tears.

“Beel?” MC repeated, making their way into the kitchen. “What’s wrong, why are you crying? And why are you just eating dough? I��m sure there’s something a lot better than that to eat.”

Beel looked down and took another bite of his pitiful midnight snack.

“There wasn’t,” he muttered.

“What? What do you mean?”

“There wasn’t anything else to eat,” he said, louder this time. “It was all gone, there was only a little bit of flour left. I-I didn’t know what else to do. I’m s-so hungry, I-I didn’t think I’d make it to Hell’s Kitchen before I passed out o-or something so I-I just--” he cut off with a tiny sob, raising a wrist to scrub at his eye.

“Oh Beel, I’m so sorry,” MC said, wrapping their arms around his shoulders and pulling his head to rest against them. His horns didn’t feel exactly comfortable against their ribcage, but they didn’t really care at the moment. “I could’ve sworn there was plenty of food earlier today--jeez I don’t know what happened to it all.” They gazed around at the now completely bare cupboards, feeling almost angry at them for being empty despite the fact it’s not actually their fault.

“There was food! I saw it! We must’ve eaten it all at dinner, I didn’t even go in the kitchen to make sure I’d have something for tonight,” Beel said. His stomach snarled right then, and he quickly shoved another handful of dough in his mouth, grimacing at the taste.

“There should be more, Lucifer always takes into account how much you need to eat--wait, who went shopping this week?” MC asked.

“Mammon,” Beel growled. “He probably spent half the money on some sale and didn’t get enough food.”

“Goddammit Mammon,” MC said, pinching their brow and squeezing their eyes shut. I’ll have to beat him up later, they thought. Snag his credit card, buy poor Beel all the cheeseburgers he wants. They opened their eyes to see the hungry demon was already halfway through his tiny meal, more tears coursing down his face as he watched his food disappear.

“Hey,” they said softly, cupping his cheek and tilting his head up so he could meet their eyes. “We’re gonna go get you something to eat, okay? Something real, not just sticky dough. We’re gonna go to Hell’s Kitchen and you’ll end up so full your shirt doesn’t fit right, how does that sound?”

The rumble that sounded from Beel’s stomach at the suggestion seemed to be rather painful; he wrapped both his arms tightly around his belly, curling in on himself with gritted teeth and a small whimper.

“Oh Beel,” MC murmured, running a hand through his flaming hair. They gently pulled his arms until he stood up, still clutching his grumbling belly. They quickly grabbed his glob of dough still on the table and handed it to him, hoping it would be enough to tide him over until they both got to Hell’s Kitchen.

~~~

MC called the restaurant on the way, letting them know the situation, so despite the fact that it was a rather busy night at Hell’s Kitchen, they were seated quickly, and in a quiet, secluded area of the restaurant. Beel asked for his usual, a large plate of burgers, and said he’d give MC a few. He always seemed to forget that MC didn’t need ten whole burgers to feel full, but they appreciated the thought nonetheless.

Beel’s dough was long gone now, and he kept pressing his fingers deep into his stomach, it’s rumbles only growing louder with time. Besides his belly though, Beel himself was rather quiet, staring down at the empty table with his eyes unfocused and far away.

“You okay, Beel?” MC asked. They felt a little stupid as soon as they said it; it’s quite clear that he’s not okay. But he blinked and glanced at them, seeming to understand what they meant.

“I just… really hate when this happens,” he muttered. “I get all wound up and upset, and now everyone gets to see the Avatar of Gluttony being an idiot and crying because he didn’t have enough of his stupid snacks.”

His face was screwed up now, anger and disgust warping his features into an expression MC wasn’t sure they’d ever seen on him before. They’d never seen him so repulsed, not even when he found out about Lucifer trapping Belphie in the attic.

“Beel, you shouldn’t say such mean things about yourself. You’re not being an idiot, and your snacks aren’t stupid, you need them, and that’s okay. You shouldn’t beat yourself up about this, it’s not your fault,” MC said, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it gently. But his words were still bitter when he answered.

“I bet none of my brothers ever cry about their sins. Why can’t I just be like that? Why do I have to burst into tears if I miss breakfast in the morning, or if someone eats the rest of something I saved for later? Why can’t I just calm down?” Beel muttered, wrapping his arms more protectively over his belly. His shoulders and legs were tensed up so hard MC wondered if it hurt, he looked like he was trying to curl in on himself. Even his wings were wrapped around him, all in an attempt to protect his middle. His muscles bunched even tighter as his stomach gave another pitiful grumble, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

MC sighed and reached over, pulling at one of his arms curled around him until he moved it away with a questioning glance at them. They moved their own hand in to replace his, pressing their palm to his belly. They could feel it rumbling continuously against their hand, and they began rubbing gentle circles into his middle, loosening the knots of pain as best they could. Beel almost instantly relaxed, melting against the cushions of the booth. The grumblings of his belly didn’t stop, but they didn’t seem to be as painful as before.

“Your brothers do cry, you know,” MC said. “Sometimes about their sins, sometimes about other things, just like you.” Beel looked up at them, his eyebrows raised.

“Really?” he said. MC nodded, shifting closer to massage deeper into his middle. He relaxed further, leaning his head back with a small sigh.

“They do,” they said. “Yours I think is the worst of them to be honest. It causes you physical pain, and affects you more often and worse I think than the others. But that doesn’t mean their sins don’t hurt them.”

Beel scoffed, looking away from MC and down at the empty table again.

“What could Mammon possibly be crying about?” Beel snarled. “Getting his credit card taken away?”

“Well… yeah,” MC said. “Mammon can’t control his want for things. It’s a bit like if someone took food away from you. Not quite the same since that would actually hurt you, but it still upsets him. And I mean… He doesn’t actually like how greedy he is. He knows it can hurt people, he just can’t really stop. And that makes him sad.”

“…He actually feels bad about that stuff? I always thought he didn’t care,” Beel said.

“He does,” MC said. “It’s the same with your other brothers. Lucifer is so prideful that when he messes up even a little it can send him spiralling. Levi, his envy can get so intense he feels like he’s all alone in the universe. He gets so jealous of other people that it can blind him to what he has. Satan gets so angry sometimes that he starts crying out of rage. Asmo cries because he feels so much love for people that it hurts to see them in pain. That and of course he gets angry at himself for being so vain. And I’m sure you’ve seen how upset Belphie can get when he hasn’t slept. I've seen him go to bed with tears running down his face after a whole day with no rest.”

“I have too,” Beel said solemnly. “I used to hug him when he couldn’t sleep after Lilith died. Even when I got hungry in the middle of the night, I’d hold him until he fell asleep. …Though I think sometimes he’d pretend to be asleep when he heard my stomach, that way I would go downstairs to get something. He always worried that I didn’t eat enough.”

His stomach growled pointedly right then, loud enough that Beel actually looked down at his belly in surprise before wincing in pain. Those chefs are really taking their sweet time getting his food here.

“Well he had reason to,” MC said, rubbing deep, soothing circles into the place where it seemed to hurt most. “Basically my point is that you’re not the only one who struggles with their sin. I think you struggle the most, but you’re not an idiot for crying over something that hurts.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I never knew my brothers got upset about that kinda stuff,” Beel said, and he shifted closer to them, laying his cheek on their head for a moment and careful to avoid hitting them with his horns. “Thanks for coming with me, MC. You’re the best.”

His words were simple but they made MC’s heart swell with happiness. They were so happy actually, that they may have lost focus and pressed a little too deep into Beel’s stomach. MC only realized this after he grimaced and stiffened up, a loud growl erupting from his middle, the hungry rumbles shaking their fingers before tapering off.

MC opened their mouth to apologize, but Beel was already waving it off with a miserable glance at his stomach.

“Don’t even, it’s not your fault,” he said. “I’m starving. It’s just so empty now, it feels like it’s trying to eat itself. The chefs must be really understaffed today or something, they usually have my food out by now.”

Not a second after he said that though, the rich, thick smell of a variety of foods suddenly got a lot stronger as several people made their way to MC and Beel’s booth. They were waiters, about ten in all, each carrying at least two platters piled high with food, if not more. MC could see burgers, fries, pizza, sushi, and then it seems for dessert they had platters full of Wicked Cupcakes and apple pie.

At the sight of the food MC was reminded that the whole reason they even found Beel eating dough in the kitchen was because they’d been craving a midnight snack, and their own middle shifted hungrily as they gazed at the platters. Their stomach had nothing on Beel’s though, which gave a long, desperate rumble under MC’s hand. He even put his hand over theirs, pressing it deeper into his belly in an attempt to soothe his hunger.

“Sorry for the wait,” one of the waiters said, giving a small chuckle at the look of surprise and desire on Beel’s face. “We wanted to bring it out all at once as a surprise!”

“Well you definitely surprised me,” Beel said, eyes wide as they set down the food in front of him, swallowing thickly at the scent of the burgers only a foot away. But suddenly he got a rather sad look on his face, and he squeezed his eyes closed. “I-I’m sorry, I can’t take all this, Lucifer would kill me if I bought this much food at once--”

“Beel, you misunderstand, it’s on the house!” a curly haired waiter said, giving him a quick pat on the shoulder after setting down a platter of apple pie.

“What?” Beel said, his eyes flicking open again, but staring at the waiter instead this time. “Why?”

“MC told us what happened,” the waiter answered. “And when you came in here you looked so upset, we wanted to do something special for you. You’re our oldest customer here, you were here buying food back when Hell’s Kitchen was small and struggling to stay open.”

“I remember when you found out we were on the edge of going out of business you bought all your meals here for weeks until business picked up again so we could keep everything afloat,” another waiter chimed in.

“And you’ve brought your brothers here for every birthday you’ve had since we opened,” said someone else.

“You’ve been here for us for years, Beel,” the curly haired waiter said. “We figured it was time we tried to pay you back.”

Beel stared at the waiters gathered around him for a moment, his mouth open but with no sound coming out.

“Thank you,” he said eventually. “Thank you, that… that means a lot.” He looked down, his face turning red as his voice cracked with emotion. Several waiters made noises of sympathy or an understanding chuckle, before they all suddenly gathered around the back of the booth, reaching forward to wrap their arms around Beel. MC laughed at the awkwardness of everyone pressed around them, but they could tell Beel was enjoying the affection immensely, a small smile widening on his face, a soft blush in his cheeks.

However, his belly had other plans.

A loud rumble suddenly sounded from Beel’s stomach, sounding quite empty, and desperate for the food in front of it. MC could feel his stomach shaking under their hand, and it was certain that anyone who’s arms or hands were near his belly could feel it too.

“Aww, Beel!”

“Your poor belly!”

“Jeez, you’re really empty aren’t you?”

“Poor thing!”

If it was possible Beel turned even redder, laughing a little nervously as MC patted his belly sympathetically.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m starving.”

“No shit,” said the curly haired waiter with a laugh. “We’ll leave you and MC to your food. You fill up, let us know if you need anything, alright?” Beel nodded, waving goodbye to the waiters as they returned to their jobs.

“Wow,” he whispered, staring at all the food. “I… fuck, I don’t even know where to start.” He sounded overwhelmed, but in a delighted, eager way. His belly gurgled excitedly, and he quickly reached out, grabbing the first thing his fingers touched, which happened to be a burger. He ate half of it in one bite.

“Mmmmf,” he said, letting his head fall back against the cushion as he chewed. When he swallowed MC could feel his stomach immediately start to churn and contract, breaking down the food rapidly. It seemed quite happy to finally have something to digest.

“Feel better?” they said with a small laugh as he shoved the rest of the burger in his mouth. Beel just nodded, a deep sigh escaping him after he swallowed. It was in that relaxed, blissful moment that Beel’s form changed, his horns and wings retracting, his clothes shifting from the leather of his demon form back to his soft pajamas he’d gone to bed in.

“Much better,” he said. He reached for a slice of pizza next, folding it in his fingers so the whole thing would fit in his mouth easier. He looked a bit like a chipmunk now, and MC laughed at the way his cheeks puffed out.

“How the hell do you fit all that in your mouth?” they said. Beel swallowed, with a bit of difficulty it seems, but his eyes were bright when he answered.

“Lots of practice,” he said. “Chubby Bunny was my favorite game when I was little. I always won, even with Mammon stuffing bunnies in his mouth like a maniac.”

“…Human world Chubby Bunny is very different from Devildom Chubby Bunny.”

Beel laughed, grabbing a plate of sushi and ignoring the chopsticks, instead just picking it up with his fingers and popping the roll in his mouth. Then he suddenly looked down at MC, glancing from their eyes to their hand still rubbing his stomach, and back.

“Do… you want me to stop?” they asked, a little confused.

“Huh? Oh, no, well, I mean--Weren’t you hungry?” he said, pushing another roll of sushi in his mouth. “You came to the kitchen because you were hungry, right? Here, you like apple pie, right?” Beel pushed the large platter of pie slices over to them, looking expectantly from MC to the pie and back. They smiled and thanked him, transferring a slice to their plate and starting to eat. When MC took the first bite he beamed in approval before continuing to eat his own food.

For a while there was silence, each of them too focused on their food to talk much, but after finishing their second slice of pie MC was starting to feel a bit sleepy again. They turned to Beel, wondering if he wanted to box up the rest of his food and eat it at home, but when they actually saw him, that was no longer at the forefront of their mind.

Beel had actually stopped eating, though not because he’d run out of food, in fact there were a few platters still untouched. No, Beel had stopped eating because there was a significant swell in his middle that definitely hadn’t been there before. His stomach was so full it had begun to press against his shirt, making it look a bit smaller than it was supposed to. He looked up at MC after a moment, hands over his stomach, and a sleepy little smile on his face.

“Think ‘m full now,” he said. “You weren’t lying when you said I’d be so full my shirt doesn’t fit right.” MC laughed, reaching over to press their hand into his belly again. It was still grumbling, but it was in a muffled, happy way now. They weren’t sharp noises, more soft and low, almost like the sound of a kitten purring.

“You sure sound full,” they said, massaging slow circles into his stomach. “You wanna head home? We can get boxes for the rest of your food, we can eat it for breakfast tomorrow.”

Beel nodded, but suddenly leaned over, pressing his cheek to the top of their head.

“Thanks for coming here with me. An’ for rubbing m’ tummy. That felt really nice, even when I was hungry,” he mumbled into their hair. MC laughed and patted his swollen middle.

“Well tell you what, when we get home I’ll rub your tummy all you want, how bout that?” they said. Beel made a small noise of delight and wrapped his arms around them in a tight hug.

It was the best hug they’d ever gotten in their life.

#hunger #hunger kink #stuffing #belly kink #belly rubs #starving to stuffed #obey me beelzebub #obey me mc #obey me shall we date #beelzebub x mc #Y's writing

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plush-rabbit · 3 years ago

Text

In God's Warm Embrace

Pastor Simeon decides to talk about you and your little absence around the Church as of late.

Warnings: could be considered noncon, or like coercion

Warnings: 4.2K

A/N: (〃￣︶￣)人(￣︶￣〃)

You walk through the corridor, the statues looking upon you. White roses are placed in vases at each window, the petals wilting at the ends and falling onto the lace tablecloth. The eyes of a crucified Jesus seem to follow you as you enter a room. It’s empty, only pictures and a singular cross looking upon you and keeping you company as you sit on a teal cushioned chair and wait.

The room is filled with light, the rays of the fading sun catching amongst the panels and shining a kaleidoscope of colors onto the room, peeking at the top of your knees and creeping to your thighs. Your hands are moist with sweat, your brow knitted with worry and your lips pulled into a frown. Shame floods your body, burning hot with the fire from hell, your tears slipping down the curve of your face and dripping onto the collar of your shirt. You’re stuck in silence while the world outside moves on, living shame free and simply existing.

The door to the office opens with a gust of warm air entering, and in the same breath, it’s closed, clicking to a lock. You swallow and your mouth is dry, your gaze sticks on the hardwood floor, trying to make out a pattern within the lines. A chill runs through your body when two hands rest on your shoulder, gripping tightly onto you.

Silence rings in your ears, deafening and enough to make your ears ache. “You know I care for you deeply, do you not?” He offers no room for you to answer him. “I do my best with what I can, while I’m in charge of the church- in charge of you. You know you’re able to come to me if you’re ever struggling.” His index finger twitches against your shoulder. “Have I not made that clear?” He squeezes your shoulders with both hands.

“No, Pastor Simeon. You’ve made it clear I can turn to you. You’ve taken great care of me ever since I found the Church.” You can hear laughter ringing outside the window, the color on your knees twinkling with each passing second. “I appreciate it very much.”

“Then, you’d be willing to tell me why I found you with Pastor Raphael? You know, he doesn’t just allow anyone in his office.” His nails are cushioned by the fabric of your blouse. “Nor does he allow anyone to sit so close to him.” You can hear something venomous in his voice, a low hiss that is gone as soon as it came.

“I simply needed help planning the monthly party. You seemed busy with a new follower and I didn’t want to take away your attention.” Your heart leaps into your throat, catching and making it impossible to breathe. “I didn't mean to offend.”

“You know I’m always happy to make time for my favorite follower.” His hand creeps closer to your neck, his skin warm against your clammy one. “While you’re here, I’ve also been meaning to ask you why you haven’t shown up on Friday nights? You know we still hold services on those nights.” His index tickles the base of your neck, stroking upwards onto you. “Where have you been?”

You rub your thighs together, anxiety deep in your joints, making you antsy and uncomfortable. “I’ve met some friends,” you confess. “We go out on Fridays and well, Fridays are usually empty so I assumed-”

“Ah,” he says simply. “You believe that your own enjoyment is above others who are seeking guidance from our Lord.” He sighs, his hands coming closer to the base of your neck, fingertips light against you. “I see the Devil has tainted your heart,” a sad tone lacing at his words.

“No!” You gasp out, trying to look above. “It- It’s not-”

His words cut through yours. “Tell me, are these friends the ones who saved you when you were alone? When you were lost and broken? Are they the ones who rescued you from damnation?” You shake your head. “I can’t hear you.”

“No,” you mutter, twiddling your hands together. “That was you.” You swallow, your lips dry and the swirl of colors makes it hard to focus. “I apologize. I just thought-” your lips pull into a straight line- “I had thought that perhaps I could go out. I didn’t mean to abandon my duties here. I promise to do better.”

“You’re in God’s house. You should know that promises made under here are sacred.” You nod your head. “Speaking of Fridays-” his hands finally wrap around your neck and you startle- “you’ve been missing confession during then.” Your hands flutter but make it no further than your chest, your eyes trying to latch onto a reflective surface to look at him. He says your name in a light whisper, his fingertips caressing the front of your neck. “I’m sure you have things to confess. Don’t fret, we all sin from time to time. We are only made in God's Image, but he’s the one who gave us free will. As long as we find our path to light, we’ll surely be saved.” He clicks his tongue, a hand faltering away to slip past your shoulder and tease at your collarbone. “Is there anything you’d like to confess? After all, you have my undivided attention.”

“I’m afraid I have sinned.” His hands tighten around you. You aren’t sure if it’s a threat or something else- even then you aren’t sure what the “something else” could be. “As you mentioned earlier, I’ve been putting my own satisfaction above others. I fear that I’m becoming selfish in my ways. However, I know that with enough prayer, I could overcome this. I think I'll head home tonight and pray.” You don’t know how to feel with his hands around your throat, not liking the way they seem to claim over you. “I still need to purchase items for the monthly party.”

As you move to rise from your seat, he pushes you back down. You fear that the Devil’s clawed hands will rise from the floor and grab at your ankles. You call his name, straining your neck to look up at him and when you meet his eyes, you look back down, murmuring an apology for daring to look at him.

“You’ve been lacking your duties, playing around with people who don’t care for you- at least not in the way I do- and now you want to rush home? You’re already here, let me help you. Let me be the one to help you repent your sins. I am a man of God, devoted and under his light, it’s only right that I save you from damnation.” His words leave a sinking feeling in your stomach, aching and twisting around, pulling tight until acid is rising- thick and burning. “You want to be forgiven, don’t you?”

You nod your head. “In the confessional?”

“No, dear.” The colors are warm on your skin, his hands light, and the room cold. “This one is a bit more personal. Something that I’m only willing to share with you.” The sun shines outside, colors reflected across the room, shining in an heavenly light. “Hebrew 4:13-” he sounds almost smug as he speaks, his abdomen pressed against the back of your chair- “Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account.” You can feel him hover closer to you, his hand lowering past your collarbone and slipping to the curve of your breast. “You seek to repent for your sins, do you not? Do you think Raphael would still be intrigued with you after learning that you’re abandoning God to seek out pleasure from others? I know how you care for the opinion of others.” His hand massages at your breast, pulling at the cup, your hardened nipple peeking through the shirt. “Come now, my little lamb, make the wise choice.” His finger pinches at your clothed nipple, causing you to pinch your thighs together, a shameful sound muffled between your closed lips. “Do you wish to confess your sins to me?”

Your body is lit aflame with the way that he touches you, an uncomfortable growing wet spot forming between your legs. “I wish to repent, Pastor Simeon.” Your stomach drops at your words, your heart beating against your chest and a cold feeling wraps tight around you. “Please, help me.”

“Open your mouth,” he says, a hand hugging your throat and forcing you to look up at him. You do as you say, the tip of your tongue peeking past your bottom lip. “You wished to repent for your sins.” His lips curve into a thin smile. “Well, I’m about to help you.” He bows his head, the apple in his throat bobbing as his lips are pursed together. Spit falls onto your tongue, the taste bitter with wine, and thick with salvation, as you close your mouth and swallow it. A hand cups your face, his hand softly curling into a petting motion. “Good-” he pulls away and you watch him move, standing before you with hands on his belt, the metal clinking together as he undoes the belt- “get on your knees and take my cock into your mouth.”

You can still feel the way that his hand felt when it was wrapped around your throat, the lingering feeling of something tight coiling around you and you fear that you’ll be left with bruises. “Yes, Pastor Simeon,” you whisper under your breath.

The chair squeaks in the room, your knees cold as you meet the floor. You open your mouth, wanting to speak further, to perhaps put a stop to this or have some sort of guidance, but the taste of wine weighs heavy on your tongue, your breath coming out in short pants as your hands tremble to unzip his pants. You inch close to him, the zip echoing in your ears as you pull it down. He removes his shoes and kicks them off the side, his pants lowered and he stands in his briefs in front of you, the outline of his cock bulging against the fabric. Your hand cups over the outline, your lips pulled into a frown when warmth emanates from it and burns against your palm.

“Are you okay?” You look up at him, with wide eyes, sneaking a glance back to where your hand still holds his covered cock. “I understand, being tempted is quite different than actually committing the act, but I assure you-” his hand curves over the top of your head- “this is for you. I’m trying to save your soul. I was chosen by God, I wouldn’t dare trick you in any way.” He senses your hesitation, the worry in your eyes that brim over with tears. “How about this? Kiss me. That way, it’ll be an easy transition for you.” He helps you onto your legs, standing against him, his hands cupping your face and lips bittersweet with wine. “We’ll kiss like lovers. Make love as one, and I assure you, that after today’s session, you’ll be one step closer to God’s Light.”

His lips are soft, tongue even softer as it slips between your lips. His kiss is nice- something pleasant and slow that makes your stomach churn as if butterflies were inside of you. You lean closer to him, pressing your chest against his and your hands are awkwardly stiff at your sides. He’s still pressed against you- his erection stiff and pulsating with heat as he deepens the kiss.

A hand leaves your face, leaving you cold. You whine into him when his hand traces down your body, grabbing at your empty hand and placing it above his cock. He holds yours, gently mimicking jerking motions as the kiss continues. Saliva pools under your tongue, slipping past the corners of your lips and dripping thickly onto your shirt. Your head spins, fever burning your skin as the summer heat does to you. You hold together onto him, the cock thick in your hands as shakily continues the motions without his help. With a mouth filled with his tongue and shared spit, he pulls away, pecking at the corner of your lips to your jawline and against your neck- right below where your heart pulses. His briefs are slipped off, the heat of his member burning against your hand.

“Get on your knees. It’s time to worship,” he says quietly to you, his hands wrapped around your arms, guiding you to your knees. “Remember, that this is for you.” Your knees meet the cold floor once more, your joints aching and lips already feeling bruised despite the soft kiss. “You’re the sinner and I’m the one guiding you to salvation.”

Your cupid’s bow bumps against his cockhead, a slimy trail of pre-ejaculate spreading across your lips. A hint of something salty replaces his bittersweet taste, you push yourself forward, your lips opening as you wrap them around his cock. His hands cradle the back of your head, a sigh of pleasure filling the air between the two of you.

“Suck on it,” he orders, pushing your head deeper onto his cock, until it hits your uvula. You hollow your cheeks, the soft, plushiness of it pressed against the side of his cock. “Just a bit harder, my dear.” His hands knit between your hair and his fingertips press against your scalp. “You suck on my cock, and I’ll guide you.”

True to his word, he guides your head, pushing you deeper down his cock as tears spring to your eyes, your ears hot and chest losing air with each thrust. Your mouth closes around his cock, a pitiful attempt at sucking at his cock while he thrusts your head onto him. With each thrust, the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, his hands holding tightly onto you. To say he is forceful feels almost wrong, but his hands are heavy, his gestures anything but sweet and the only kind words that he can hiss out between his clenched teeth are praises that make your stomach twist. You aren’t sure if it’s his taste that is acidic or sickness settling in.

“But while my relationship is secure with you, I know sin can break our fellowship at times. I’m still human, and I often forget who I am and Whose I am. You want to convict and correct me, not shame me.” His voice cuts through the air, louder than your choking. He holds power in his voice, muttering through the prayer, increasing in volume as his moans do. “So before I take communion today, I’m asking You to truly search my heart and reveal hidden things for which to ask Your forgiveness.”

The noises that fill the room are loud, gagging and wet slapping sounds with each movement. Your jaw aches, tears slipping past the curve of your face as your nails dig into his thighs. You call his name and it’s unheard, a jumbled mess of slurred sounds that are lost within the wet slapping sounds. Yet, even with his cruelness, something pulses between your legs. It’s an uncomfortable situation, something thick slipping past your entrance and resting on your underwear, the twisting in your stomach rivaled by a burning ache.

“Oh my,” he grunts, pressing your face down to his base. Your tongue slips around the underside of his cock, tracing at a vein as saliva slips down your chin. “My little lamb, you feel fantastic.” He’s too deep in your mouth, closing at your throat and blocking any air that can travel. “Just hearing you gag is nearly enough for me.” Your face burns, burning hot tears form and cling to your lashes. Your mouth bubbles with drool, your palms slapping against his thighs as you call to him through his cock. Something acid crises in your throat, only to be washed away by his thick seed. It slides down your throat, heavy and filling, white creaminess staining your tongue and burning past your tears.

When he pulls you away, you cough, small specks of semen ruining the cherry wood floors. You gasp for air, the scent of candles burning strong in the air. “Sim-” a cough interrupts your words- “Simeon,” you hiccup, your hands flat on the ground. You look up at him, watching as he strokes his cock, semen dripping onto the floor. “What are you doing?”

“We’re not done yet,” he says as he grabs you by your biceps and lifts you into a standing position. “I apologize for the roughness but it’s what the Lord commands me to do. Now, it’s time for the other steps.” He presses you against the edge of his desk, the hem of your skirt in his hands and his breath close to yours. His thumb brushes away your tears. “Lift up your skirt for me, my sweet lamb.”

“What?” You ask in a strained whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself, giving yourself the comfort you desperately need. “What do you mean? Wasn’t that enough?”

“There can never be enough salvation.” he grabs your hands and lets them hover over the hem of your skirt. “Now, lift up your skirt. Don’t make me repeat myself again, dear.” He takes a few steps back. He gives you a slight nod, allowing you to proceed.

You lift up your skirt, the fabric clenched in your hands, and even though you just had his cock in your mouth, you feel exposed. Simeon hums in thought, stepping towards you, his index finger tracing over your slit. His index presses harshly against you, almost teasing at your entrance and when he pulls away, the tip of his index is shining. He tilts his head and rubs his index and thumb together, your arousal smearing between the two, as his hands on your thighs as they reach the hem of your underwear and pull down. You can feel a cool strand of your arousal slap against our warm skin when the fabric pools around your ankles.

Your clothes are removed, falling onto a lifeless puddle on the floor. You rest on the desk, your hands flat against the table as you peer at your Pastor. He fills the gap, the tip of his cock smearing between your lips. You gasp out, your head shaking as you look around the room. “Wait- Wait,” you stop him. He listens and gives you a tender smile.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” His hand cusps at your face, his thumb brushing against your lower lip.

“I’m a-” your face burns with shame as you look down. Your hand is casted in rainbow light. “I don’t- I’m saving myself till marriage. I don’t- isn’t there another way?”

“My lovely lamb,” he whispers out, his lips ghosting over your collarbone and resting over a pert nipple, another hand covering your other breast. “You don’t have to worry about that right now. God won’t hate you for acts of love. If that’s difficult for you to comprehend, why don’t you think of me as your God for now?” His lips peck at your nipple, his mouth opening and suckling at your breast. “Making love with God is not a sin.” You arch your back as he nurses on your breast, his other hand massaging and kneading at the other breast.

Tears dry in your eyes, your gaze wide and doe-like. “What about a condom? I’m not on birth control or anything.”

“My dear-” he kisses at your breast once more, lolling the hardened nipple with the tip of his tongue- “with me inside of you, it’ll be much more pure. It’ll be the pure essence of me- our God- in your body. Nursing at your womb and filling you with life. Don’t deprive yourself of that.” He lifts his head, your breast is cold from the air, the other pert from touch.

Your rim is stretched, a pain sparking between your legs. The crown of your head is pushed against his desk, your hands lawing around his biceps. He muffles your yelp with a rushed kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips. You gasp for air, pulling him closer to you and wrapping your legs around him, hoping that that will deter him from continuing.

It doesn’t.

He thrust into you, pulling away, his cock stretching you virgin walls. He pulls away from the kiss, his lips on your neck before he rises above you and kisses your lips once more. Your legs loosen from the hold on him and he grabs at you, pushing your legs into a bent position over your body. Everything feels much too tight, the position only bringing a stinging pain with pleasure right at the cusp, your body aching for anything to remove the pain.

In a desperate attempt, you bring your hand to rub at your clit, letting out a breathy moan when it does relieve you from the pain. He kisses your lips once more and unable to think, you can only press down at your clit.

“It stings,” you murmur between the lips. “Pastor Simeon, it doesn’t-”

“Just give it a second.'' His hand replaces yours and his fingertips feel foreign compared to yours. “Such a good follower to know that you have to play with yourself.” He presses the kiss deeper, his hands finding a sweet rhythm that makes you gasp into his mouth, the pain fading away with every thrust. “How ever did you know to do something like that?” His pace quickens, a wet clicking sound filling the room as he pushes himself inside of you. “Do you do this often or-” his fingers pinch at your clit, causing you to squeeze your legs together, your cunt wrapping tightly around him- “did someone teach my favorite follower something so perverse? What was it? Were you being a whore and touching yourself or did you let someone play with you?”

“Me,” you choke out, clinging onto him, so desperate for another kiss to dull the fading pain. “It was me.” Your tears catch on your tongue and you shake your head at the taste. “I’m so sorry Pastor Simeon. I was weak,” you moan, closing your eyes until colors and organic shapes fill the inky blackness. You can feel the gold cross around his neck rest between the valley of your breasts, a cold surface against your fevered skin, it bobs and piches at you with every thrust.

He grunts above you, moaning your name until it sounds odd in your ears, his cock twitching inside of your velvety walls. His cock fills you, stretches your cunt and makes you feel impossibly full. Your clit pulses with arousal as you drip around his cock, pulling him close to you, desperate to feel his burning skin upon yours. He calls your name, stuttering his hips inside fo you before coming to a still. You’re filled with his seed- creamy white that spills out of you only to be pushed back in by his hands. You’re covered by him, your entrance puffed and spilling with white discharge, your body shakes as he pulls himself out. His lips meet your in a tender kiss, sucking at your bottom lip and holding you close.

Your eyes are heavy with exhaustion, your body shaking lightly as thick semen pours out of your ravaged cunt. You call for him, your hands blindly searching as they fall past the edge of the desk. His lips press against your forehead, cold hands that touch at your feverish body, makes you lean into him. His lips smile against you.

“You’re free to rest here as long as necessary.” You open your eyes at him, your brows furrowed but without energy and no room to have any coherent thoughts, you are unable to ask him anything. “I hate to leave you here, but I have a meeting to attend. I’ll hope to see you again next Friday, of course.”

You turn your head lazily towards him where he’s already buckling his belt. “Next?” You ask with a pause. “What do you-” a yawn ruins your sentence and chance to speak.

“Surely, you did not believe that one session was enough to lead you to redemption? Oh my, sweet lamb, no.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head with a patronizing huff. “You’ve told me yourself that you’ve touched yourself- do you believe that God would take in such a whore?” He smiles at you and it’s cold. “He wouldn’t,” he says simply, adjusting his collar, the necklace that once laid between your breasts now rests between his. “But I’m here to watch over you. To give you the treatment that you deserve and make sure you get into God’s good graces.” He walks to the door, his back turned to you, until his hand is around the knob. “Now remember, you wanted this, and I’m more than happy to help, my dear lamb.”

The door clicks close behind him and you are left in a darkening room, the kaleidoscope of lights vanished long ago, only a dripping trail of semen leaking from your cunt. Your body aches and you feel cold, naked under the eyes of the Lord. With shaky limbs, you rise from the desk, wearing the clothes as they are- wrinkled and dirtied from the dust on the floor. You pat yourself down. The doorknob is cold under your touch, your body pricked with goosebumps, and let the door close behind you.

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too-gay-for-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

one of us

a/n: I LIVE! listen. listen. yall know me well enough at this point to know that i make no promises about posting more stuff. i might post something in a few months. maybe next week. lets spin the wheel of fate and see what happens, shall we?

Request: hi!! do you think you could write a prequel of sorts to i don’t need a hero? it’s one of my absolute favorites and i was wondering if you could write something angsty for the mission where the reader gets shot protecting wanda? <33 thank you!!

Word Count: 2546

Warnings: swearing, canon-typical violence

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

She hated you.

Wanda Maximoff absolutely, unquestionably, without a doubt hated you. There was not a single thing about you that she didn’t hate, from the stupid cocky look on your face to the way you refused to be of any help. You were supposed to be an ally now, not a nuisance.

And yet there you were.

Sitting across from her at the table and shooting her a look that made her want nothing more than to throw some magic right at your face. If she was lucky then maybe it would even knock you on your ass and she could wipe that stupid smirk from your face. It would almost make this meeting with you worth all the hassle.

“Does everyone understand their jobs?” Maria asked, bringing Wanda back to the table and forcing her to pay attention.

“Blow shit up and have fun doing it?” You asked even though that most certainly wasn’t your job and you knew it.

Don’t let them out of your sight. Maria’s voice rang in Wanda’s mind and, after a silent look, she gave a nod of affirmation. It didn’t seem as if you had noticed, and that gave Wanda a feeling of superiority. Technically it wasn’t a competition, and she already knew she was better than you, but to know that she could scheme about you in front of your face was something that gave her more joy than she would ever openly admit.

The meeting concluded without a hitch. You had even admitted - rather begrudgingly - that you were to do nothing other than keep the attention off of Wanda and Sam. In Wanda’s mind, that was a good start; you usually argued until you were blue in the face.

But with you agreeing, all Wanda had to really worry about was the upcoming mission. And whether you would keep to your word or not.

----------

By all accounts, and much to Wanda’s and Sam’s surprise, the mission had been going well. You had launched fireworks on one end of the building to cause a commotion while they had snuck in through the back. She had used her powers to distract the few guards left inside, and within minutes they had found what they were looking for.

In fact, the mission had been going so well that Wanda had been on the verge of asking if you were okay. There was no way you could have behaved for as long as you had, not without a proper motivation. But right as Wanda had lifted her hand to start her comms, an unusually loud explosion sounded off, quickly followed by guards running and yelling.

Heading in their direction.

“I knew it was too good to be true,” Wanda mumbled to herself.

Only seconds after Wanda had muttered her lack of surprise at the situation, the same guards she had heard appeared in the hallway behind them. Directly between them and their exit.

Of course, she heard Sam think. Very loudly.

It turned, very quickly, into an all-out brawl. Unlike you, they didn’t exactly aim to kill; if it was avoidable then they would. But that didn’t mean there weren’t still plenty of bodies lying on the ground, continuously making it harder and harder for them to leave.

“To the roof,” Sam ordered during a short lull in the fighting. “We can get an emergency evac from there.”

And before Wanda knew it, they were once again fighting and trying to make their way up the stairs. It wasn’t the most difficult thing in the world, not with her powers and Red Wing. But that didn’t mean it was easy either.

“Leaving already?” You asked over the comms, causing both Wanda and Sam to roll their eyes at the lack of seriousness in your tone.

“Just get to the roof,” Sam replied shortly, refusing to say anymore on the matter.

“When I’m ready.”

Wanda swore if she hadn’t promised Bucky not to kill you, she would have done it then and there.

It didn’t take long after that for Wanda and Sam to make it to the roof. He told her he was going to fly around and scope a potential landing, and Wanda agreed to hold down the fort until he came back. They both ignored the fact that you were nowhere to be found.

In typical Avengers fashion, the guards came back not long after Sam had left her alone. She wished she could have been surprised, but when it happens nearly every time, it loses it’s shock factor.

But this one was worse than usual; Wanda was, unfortunately, feeling overwhelmed. She knew the horde would run out of bodies eventually, but would that happen before or after Sam showed up? She had no clue, and that was something that terrified her.

Needless to say, she got her answer when an entire army made it up to the roof.

“That’s my cue,” your voice came over the comms, a little too cheery for the situation, but Wanda wasn’t going to answer. At that moment, she hoped you burned along with the rest of them.

An explosion rocked the building underneath her feet, sending more panic racing through her veins. Fucking idiot, she thought, you’re going to destroy the building with us still in it! More explosions followed suit.

“You’d better hurry, Sam, Y/N is gonna blow the building,” Wanda spoke clearly, but rushed. As terrified as she was, she knew it would do no good if Sam didn’t even understand her.

“Just a bit longer, I’m almost there.” She didn’t like that Sam sounded more panicked than her.

“Need a hand?” Your voice came through again, but it was drowned out by a roar that grew increasingly louder.

It was a missile. A missile that was going to hit the roof. The roof that she was standing on.

“Just move!”

Wanda was too transfixed by the missile heading her way to notice someone running toward her. Someone who quickly wrapped their arms around her waist. Her body tensed as her feet were lifted off the ground and she was suddenly launched off the side of the building right as the missile hit the spot where she had previously been standing.

Wind rushed past her ears, along with something that sounded like a scream. She couldn’t tell who it was coming from. The trip to the ground took only a moment, but felt like it was never going to end. Well, not until she forcefully met the ground, that is. The air was knocked out of her lungs and the person on top of her didn’t help.

“Get off me,” she grunted as she pushed the person off and sat up. Only when she was up did she notice it was you, new scratches on your face and blood dripping down your ears.

“You stupid Avengers, always in the way,” you mumbled just loud enough for Wanda to hear. Or maybe it was just muffled because of the deafening ringing in her ears.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Wanda shouted, pushing herself onto her feet and watching as you did the same.

“What do you mean, what was I thinking?” You shot back. “You were the one who didn’t move!”

“I didn’t need your help.”

“You almost got hit! By a missile!”

“And yet you were the one who launched it!” Wanda stepped forward, her finger jabbing into your chest as she talked.

“I saved your life!” You shouted back, throwing your hands up in indignation.

“You pushed me off a building!”

“Don’t criticise me! No one else was helping!”

“I didn’t need help from some wannabe hero!”

“I’m not trying to-” you were cut off by the sound of a gun, and your eyes widening. You both looked down to see a dark red spot near your hip, growing larger by the second.

You hit the ground before she could catch you.

Wanda looked past you to see one lone guard, his shirt still on fire and his skin singed beyond recognition. His arm was still up, gun pointed where you had previously been standing. She didn’t have to bother with finishing him; he collapsed, his body slowly burning.

She crouched down immediately, her hand moving to the spot on your hip. Her hands went to press on it; something she had learned from Maria and Natasha, something she hadn’t thought she would ever really need to know.

You groaned ever so slightly when she pressed harder, but aside from that you were silent and still.

“Coming in hot,” Sam said. She didn’t bother looking up, but felt the wind from Sam and the evac landing behind her.

Sam was quick in assessing the damage. He picked you up and carried you to the quinjet, getting you stabilised for the trip back. Wanda thanked the gods that it would be a short trip.

She hoped you would be okay.

----------

Technically, it wasn’t the worst injury someone had come back from a mission with. Tony always came back with multiple contusions, sometimes broken bones if he had been careless. Natasha and Clint were always a mess, having been absorbed in trying to keep the other safe. Hell, you had come back with worse injuries.

So why this one had taken so much out of you, Wanda had no idea. All she knew was that it had been four days and you were still unconscious. Even the doctors couldn’t understand why you hadn’t woken up. Sure, trauma could keep someone in a coma, but you had seen much worse. So why this one?

“Time for food.”

Bless that man.

Wanda looked up from her book to see Clint leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. A signature look for him, she realised. But she noticed, strangely enough, that he did not come with food. Extremely rude.

“Making me scavenge for myself now?” Wanda teased as she closed her book.

“You could say that,” Clint shrugged. “You gotta get out of here for a few hours, Wanda.”

So that was his purpose.

“Not yet,” she answered simply.

“They haven’t woken up yet, won’t wake up while you’re gone.”

“You don’t know that-”

“-Wanda,” Clint interrupted, “they’re not waking up. Get some food, take a shower, maybe a nap. It’ll be fine.”

She looked over to you and just stared. Your face hadn’t really changed since they had gotten you back to SHIELD. No sounds, no movement, nothing. Maybe there was a new crinkle between your brows, but nothing to really indicate you were going to wake up. No matter how much she wanted you to.

Damn you for making her worry about you of all people.

And damn Clint for being right.

“Two hours.”

“Make it five,” Clint shot back, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Three.”

“Four.”

Damn him.

“Fine. Four. But not a minute more,” Wanda sighed. But, and she hated to admit this, Clint was right; she needed some time to recover. She hadn’t even left herself recover from the mission, instead coming straight to the medical ward with you.

Clint nodded once and waited for her to leave before heading into your room. Sweet of him to take her place while she was resting. It would at least give her some respite to know that someone was watching you while she was gone. Now she just needed to take care of herself and get back.

Well. Maybe after a bath.

----------

“Wanda wake up!”

Not the best way for anyone to wake up from a nap.

Wanda shot up out of bed and tried to blink the sleep out of her eyes. She was sure she looked like an absolute mess, and she could feel the knots in her hair. Oh god she felt terrible. Two hours was not enough time for a recovery nap. They better have a good reason for waking her up.

“Good, you’re up,” Clint huffed from the doorway. “Y/N’s gone.”

Okay. Pretty good reason.

She didn’t bother brushing her hair; didn’t even bother changing into clean clothes. It was fine though, she had slept in her mission clothes anyway. What was one more day, right? Besides, it gave her a bit of comfort that she at least wouldn’t be running through the hallways half-naked.

It was, for lack of a better word, pandemonium in the halls. The assumption was that everyone was looking for you; and that assumption was correct. If you hadn’t been such a damn nuisance to SHIELD in the past, maybe they would’ve just let you go.

So really, this was all your fault.

But that didn’t stop Wanda from making her way to where she felt she knew you had gone. There was no proof, but it was a feeling. A feeling that was similar to when she had known whenever Pietro had gotten into trouble. Not quite as strong, because nothing could beat twintuition, but it was still there.

And it was right.

Wanda didn’t know what to really expect you to look like after a few days of rest. But you looked a mess sitting in the dark cell. You were still in your hospital gown, and the gauze was still wrapped around whatever wounds you had sustained. The worst part? You sat curled up in the corner.

“Y/N?” Wanda stepped closer to the cell, but was met with a beeping sound that she was terrifyingly familiar with.

A proximity bomb.

She jumped back and waited for the explosion that never came. Instead, the beeping stopped, and you continued to sit in the corner. Her eyes searched for the bomb, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to find it. If you had hidden it, then you would be the only one who could get to it.

“Everyone is looking for you,” Wanda whispered, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Leave me alone.” Your voice was hoarse, and you let out a series of painful-sounding coughs.

“They’re worried about you.”

“They can worry about themselves,” you shot back, “I’m fine.”

“Y/N,” Wanda urged. She didn’t like seeing you like this. She hadn’t cared for you much, hadn’t even liked you, but this… this wasn’t you. “What happened?”

And then you turned. She could see the bruises on your face, the bags under your eyes, a look on your face that she couldn’t quite place. But your eyes… your eyes pierced through her soul in a way she hadn’t thought possible.

“You fucking heroes happened,” you replied, your eyes never leaving hers. “Couldn’t fucking leave well enough alone, had to bring me into all this fucking mess.”

“Y/N-”

“You wanted me in this fucking cell, now I’m here.” Wanda could tell you were running out of breath. “So leave me the fuck alone.”

With that you turned and stared back at the wall, your back to her. She couldn’t go to you, couldn’t help you. That bomb of yours would blow the both of you up if she got closer. And she just knew you were finished talking to her. You had made your decision, and she would just have to accept it. It seemed the team was right.

You would never be one of them.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #requests #my writing

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toosicktoocare · 4 years ago

Text

AU where the Avengers don’t know that Spider-Man is Peter Parker just cuz

inspired by a fantastic ask about concussions from @carley-carley-carley (hope it’s okay that I tagged you!)

“Young man? Young man, are you alright?”

Grunting, Peter drags his head away from the insistent tapping against his cheek, an almost rhythmic, steady pressure that jerks up his temple to spread across his forehead. The pressure isolates to the base of his skull, where the pounding seems to be at it’s worst, and it holds ground there, pulsing uncomfortably.

“Young man, you fell from a four-story apartment building.”

Peter’s brows furrow at this. He wants to object because he’s Spider-Man, and a fall like that is minor compared to the novel of inuries he’s suffered alongside the Avengers. He opens his mouth to do just that, to explain to this woman that this is nothing, that he’ll walk it off, but a pricking senstation hot against the back of his neck hotwires to his eyelids, forcing them open.

He’s aware of two things: One, the woman leaning over him is far too close, and she’s doubling and tripling before him, going in out of focus against his blurry eyes. Despite hazy around the edges, she looks concerned, if the deep-set wrinkles etched into her forehead are anything to go by. Two, there’s a small crowd surrounding him, and while Peter’s not particularly claustrophobic, right now, it feels like each body is pushing against his lungs, and his stomach. When the hell did he start feeling so nauseous?

“Young man, do you know what day it is?”

No, Peter thinks flatly to himself. He really doesn’t. He could dig through his mind, eager to push out logic, work through his mental calendar that operates soley around when homework assignments are due, but there’s a solid rock of pulsing pain blocking all normal, brain functioning. “Monday?” he tries weakly. He’s faintly aware that his own voice sounds hollow and distant, but more so, he’s distinctly aware of the saliva pooling in his mouth, a copper taste that coats against his tongue.

Peter didn’t think it was possible, but the woman somehow frowns deeper at him, and she climbs to her feet, body rigid. He supposes it’s not Monday after all.

“Call an ambulance! He’s concussed.”

Peter shoots forward into a sitting position, and the pain in his head bursts like a balloon. The redistributed pressure is blinding, and Peter drops his face into his cupped hands with a low groan that threatens to bring more than just air up his throat.

He wants to assure them that a hospital isn’t necessary, that his enhanced healing defies medical science, but when the white light coating his vision dies down to an unsteady sway of darker, blurring colors, he only sees scraped up palms before him, not gloves. He rips his hands away, and one, quick look down shows that he’s sporting a blue NASA hoodie and blue jeans and that he’s definitely not wearing his signature red and blue Spider-Man suit he thought he had on.

The hell?

He glances to see his backpack beside him, thankfully still zipped up and intact. He tries to wrack his brain, briefly craning his neck up toward the rooftop he assumes he fell from, only to quickly jerk his gaze back down when the setting sun seems to shine past his eyes to burn at his skull. He can’t remember why he was up there in the first place, especially since he’s in civilian clothing. He can’t remember much of anything, now that he dwells on it.

“Young man, by all accounts, you should be dead.”

Peter makes to reply, his clenched jaw unhinging almost painfully, but a different, probing jolt sparks up his spine to the back of his neck, and he’s climbing to his feet, pale, wobbly, just as two, new voices somehow carry over the wall of chatter around him.

“What’s going on?”

“Make way. Crowds typically mean one of two things: some weird alien contraption that equals bad news or a dead body, either of which I can’t really fit into today’s schedule.”

Even if Peter didn’t have the two voices memorized, down to the timbre, the sudden, loud squealing from the crowd of “Tony Stark!” and “Captain America!” is enough to have him eyeing for a quick exit, determining if he can duck his way through the pressing bodies.

“This young man fell from the roof!”

“So,” Tony draws out, his voice growing closer. “Dead body it...” He trails off as he nudges around a few people until he’s breaking into the center of the circle with Steve hot on his heels.

“Well, hello there, not dead person.”

Peter wants to shrink away from Tony’s gaze. He wants the ground to crumble and break and swallow him hole, to rid himself of the awkward fear and warm embarrasment that flushes his cheeks. He can feel a thick, lukewarm liquid dripping down his neck, and he doesn’t want to look down to see the concerning pool of blood at his feet.

“Son, are you alright?” Steve shoves forward, and on instinct, Peter backs away and brings a hand to the back of his neck, a nervous tick, but he pulls it back almost immediately, faintly frowning at the splattered red coloring his palm.

“You fell,” Tony starts, and Peter knows this tone well as it’s Tony’s signature speculation tone, where he dissects the situation around clipped, short sentences.

“From up there?”

Leveling his gaze, Peter huffs out a shaky sigh, wincing slightly as Steve prods lightly at the back of his head.

“Um, yeah. I guess?”

“You guess?”

“I don’t really remember,” Peter laughs awkwardly, clears his throat. He can sense the tension that builds behind him, can almost feel the way Steve’s muslces grow rigid.

“He’s concussed, Tony. Maybe save the interrogation for another time?”

“Sure,” Tony says, and he steps forward, carefully avoiding the puddle of blood. “But, you can’t blame me for finding this entire situation unsettling, Steve. This kid fell from the roof of a four-story building, landed on his back, and now he’s standing, and aside from the fact that he looks a tad worse for wear, he’s alive?”

“I’m right here,” Peter mutters under his breath, and Tony nods and crowds too close to him.

“You are. Standing. Speaking. Alive. Three things that don’t exactly pair well with falling off a roof.”

Peter’s head hurts, bad. Deflect, he thinks. But how? “I’ve always been told I come from a family of hard heads,” he mumbles around a hollow laugh, and, he thinks, it definitely sounds as stupid out loud as it did in his head.

Tony’s gaze, in response, his sharp, and narrow, and Peter unconsciously closes his eyes. He can feel the ground rippling below his feet, and he sways, steadying only when Steve wraps an arm around his shoulders.

“Enough, Tony.”

“How much would it take to get you to come back to our labs so I can run some tests-”

“-Enough, Tony.”

Steve’s voice vibrates all across Peter’s body. It’s a powerful yet familiar feeling that makes him shudder slightly.

“What’s your name, son?”

Peter contemplates lying, maybe even using Ned’s name. But, he’s been careful as Spider-Man thus far, so, he thinks, he’s not at risk by sharing his real name. Besides, it’s not like it’s uncommon. “Peter,” he says after a moment.

He could hear Steve talking beside him, but an unannounced rush of blood in his ears begisn to drown out close sounds. He grows hot suddenly, or maybe, he’s been getting steadily hotter this entire time and he couldn’t fully realize. His body’s shaking a little harder now, inconsistent trembles jerking his limbs. His throat’s tightening, and when he realizes what the hell is happening, he’s shoving away from Steve and hunching over to vomit.

He feels worse when he finishes. He’s exhausted, and his head is positively throbbing. Yet, there’s a color of clarity flicking across his mind. Through the thick pain, he can think a little clearer, see a little clearer.

“Peter?”

“Gross, kid. Time to go to the hospital.”

“No!” Peter whips around, staggers, and unconsciously reaches out to Steve’s arm for support. “I mean, that’s not necessary,” he clarifies at the two, wide expressions looking at him expectantly. “Really. I’m already feeling better.” To punctuate his point, he lets go of Steve’s arm and bends down to snag his backpack, clutching it close to his chest. “See, totally fine. No passing out or anything.”

On the back of his head, he can already feel his broken skin moving, closing torn gaps, slowing the bloodflow. He figures he’s got about an hour until it’s completely healed, and he’d rather not be around two Avengers when it happens.

“I’ll just go home and... rest! I’ll rest. Scout’s honor.” He mock salutes, and then he spins on his heel and starts pushing his way out of the crowd, missing the furrowed gaze from Tony. He swallows thickly when he hears two sets of heavy footsteps behind him.

“Peter, wait!”

“I’m with Steve on this one, kid. I can’t, in good conscience, let you disappear in this condition. I can see the headlines now. Iron Man Abandons Helpless Teen.”

“Tony...”

Peter keeps walking ahead, keeps his gaze locked to the sidewalk below him as Tony and Steve take either side of him. “My apartment’s just a few blocks from here,” he mumbles, focusing on the rhythmic pound of his shoes on concrete and not on the hot pain pushing all across his head or on the fact that he can’t shake a couple of Avengers, something he’d never consider as Spider-Man.

“Do you not like hospitals, Peter?”

Steve’s question is a gentle prod, and Peter goes with it, shrugging.

“Not really,” he offers, keeping his voice low, indicating he doesn’t want to pursue the conversation, and luckily, Steve takes the bait and drops it. At least, Peter thinks, they’ll stop insisting he seek out medical assistance now. Though, he does feel a little bad lying to Steve; he doesn’t like lying, unless it’s to egg on Tony’s nerves as Spider-Man. But to Steve? It feels morally wrong, and he thinks he should seek out a confessional for his sins later.

“Not interested in having a bunch of doctors deem you a medical miracle?”

“Definitely not,” Peter groans, finally dragging his gaze up until he’s looking forward and not at the scuff marks on his shoes. His memories, though fuzzy, are filtering through cracks in the thick mud that’s currently his mind. He can remember standing atop the roof, maybe a little too close to the edge. He was getting ready to rip open his backpack for his suit, and then he remembers losing his footing. He remembers the back of his foot hitting the edge of the roof, and everything goes dark after that.

Embarrassing, he thinks. He’s the only super hero he knows clumsier than a newborn deer. Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize he’s reached his apartment until his leg muscles are dragging to a stop on habit. He looks up, craning his neck, and sighs. “Well, this is me. I appreciate the escort, but I’m good now.” He starts up the steps, sighing louder when he hears the two follow.

He makes it all the way up the steps to his apartment door and unlocks it before he spins on his heel, a second, longer sigh pushing past his lips. “Look, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but don’t you both have... bigger things to do? Iron Man and Captain America things?”

“You busy, Steve?” Tony asks, and Steve mutely shakes his head before following Tony into the apartment.

Groaning, Peter rubs at his forehead and shuffles inside, knowing full and well that both are incredibly busy on an hour-to-hour basis. He’s quick to slip his bacpack into his bedroom and close the door before he steps back out into the living room to see Steve motioning toward the couch with a pack of frozen peas in hand.

“It’s all you had.”

Shrugging, Peter drops down flat onto the couch, sitting up briefly so Steve can slip the bag of frozen peas behind his head. He shivers on contact because shit, it’s freezing, and Steve’s reaching over him to snag the blanket draped behind the couch. He hums absently when Steve tucks it around him, and then he cracks an eye open to see Tony staring down childhood pictures with a familair set of glasses on.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Huh?” Tony whips around, already plucking the glasses from his face.

“Really, Tony? How much info is FRIDAY feeding you right now?”

“What?” Tony drags out, both hands raised in defense. “Kid fell off a roof and walked away. Sue me.”

“I promise, Mr. Stark, I’m not even remotely interesting,” Peter tries, and Tony raises a single brow his way.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Peter’s kept his identity tightly under wraps thus far, and he knows childhood pictures or pictures with May aren’t going to reveal that he’s Spider-Man. Still, it’s annoyingly intrusive, and he sits up with a groan.

“If I swear on my best friend’s lego model death star that I’ll stay put, rest, and wake up every few hours to monitor my condition, will you both please leave? You really don’t need to hang around here; I know you both have to be really busy.”

“Your best friend has a lego model death star?” Tony starts, isolating that one fact. “Is your best friend in second grade?”

Peter clambers to his feet, stalks over to his door, and yanks it open. “We’re the same age, and I happily helped him with it,” he challenges, motioning toward the doorway.

“Easy, champ,” Tony says around a laugh as he and Steve start toward the door. “If you and your friend want to play with legos, that’s none of my business. Just try not to fall off any more roofs because, unfortunately, that is my business.”

“Yes, sir,” Peter says, offering a nod as the two step out.

“Consider going to a hospital, Peter,” Steve adds. “Maybe take your friend with you for comfort.”

Yeah right, Peter thinks. Ned can’t even handle the thought of a needle without feeling faint. Still, he nods, if only to appease Steve, and then he’s closing the door and sinking against it with a low sigh. He listens for a long time until he can no longer make out their footsteps, and then he’s ignoring the pressure in his head and running to his room to don his suit.

Concussion or not, Queens still needs the friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man.

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