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strawberrysnoopy · 11 months ago

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ACT ONE: The Photo-shoot, Part Two

prologue, part one

warnings: basic stuff (infidelity, mentions of sex and masturbation, ada slander, yadda, yadda), i also don't know how an er really works so..., brief mention of disordered eating habits but not an eating disorder (if that makes sense), foreshadowing (in the same chapter), almost sex but not yet sugar, blah blah, blah. I also can't write fight scenes so whatever. Also I promise that this will be the last dinner party esque scene in a while lol.

tags: @heylesamis, @sweetserial, @iloveyousomuch1989, @galactict3a, @m1sery-busin3ss, @ssulfurr, @julia13123, @nic-stars, @stillhavingdaddyissues, @greywardensaywhat thank you anons for your submissions and helping motivate me to continue this series!

Leon sat beside you in the emergency room, holding up an ice pack to his eye. You hated that out of all things to be concerned about right now, you were staring at his thick biceps and his veiny forearms like some cheap whore. The nurses who saw the both of you come in had looked at Leon first, so you were justified in staring. At least a little. "How's the eye?" You asked, reaching over and pulling the ice pack back a little so you could see the damage. A few capillaries in his eye had burst open, making his eye look all bloody and gross. The beginnings of a dark bruise were beginning to form. "Hurts. But nothing I haven't felt before." True, he was a government agent assigned to save the world over and over again: so this might be just a blip in his entire career. You nod, patting his arm and settling back into your seat beside him. Tonight hadn't been what you anticipated at all. You just wanted a cozy dinner with Leon and your husband to ease his loneliness. He was cooped up in his house and you knew he would neglect to feed himself. Leon wouldn't really consider himself a lonely man. He had friends to bide his time with when Ada was gone doing a mission. Your husband was one of those people, and of course, by instinct: the invite of friendship was gracefully extended to you. However, Leon would really hate to admit that you're the better in maintaining the friendship than your husband ever was. You were the one to start inviting him over for dinner when Ada was gone because you knew he'd probably put some half-assed attempt in feeding himself everyday. Not that he didn't know how to cook (he was quite an excellent one, in fact), he felt that it was kind of pointless if you ate when there wasn't someone to share the meal with.

Tonight was one of those nights for him. You texted him earlier this afternoon, offering him dinner and the company of friends. He could practically hear your soft voice from over the phone: the kindness you radiated with your mere presence lighting him up like the Fourth of July. Of course he had to accept your invitation, it's not like he had plans: other than sitting in his boxers, drinking and stare at the ceiling while he laid in bed. You were rather quick to trot over to the door when Leon came knocking. There was a stupid grin plastered on your face and with the way your eyes looked at him with a bright, glimmering shine glazing over them. "Leon!" You squeal, capturing him into your arms and swaying him back and forth. A low and rumbly chuckle escaped his throat while he hugged you, arms finding their home around your waist. Your husband's off somewhere in the house, if you had to guess accurately: by the fridge, contemplating how plastered he was planning on getting tonight in the shortest amount of time. Perhaps he'd go a little slower tonight, but you don't have much hope in him with the fact Leon's there. It might encourage him. Who knows.

"I appreciate you having me over tonight. So nice of you to make sure I'm never lonely." Among other things. But he's not squealing too soon. Your eyes longingly rake over his body, and god, the gall of this man to not appear in your life sooner and sweep you off of your feet. Noticing he's wearing something different, he smiles at you and pinches your cheek, muttering the same nickname he always called you.

Silly Girl.

God, fuck this man to the highest degree, you curse to yourself. And his attire?! Oh fuck him. You tried not to notice his attire. It was that of a somewhat dorky husband. Perhaps that’s what attracted Ada, perhaps that��s what made her hate him so much. Regardless, you loved the somewhat silly outfit on him of a gray sweatshirt he’s had since police academy, the lip of his boxers visible from above his jeans if he stretched his arms up (maybe bless your eyes and existence with the token appearance of his happy trail), and some semi-baggy jeans with his beat up shoes. He was a handsome man, and he seemed to know it. Yet, he still had enough a heart to be humble. Dinner was served quickly, everyone taking their seats at the table. Leon had praised you on your cooking skills with words (and a hand patting your thigh under the table. Hot.) The conversation was light-hearted, cheerful, but most of all, refreshing. The table had even gotten to the topic of firsts: obviously dancing over the first time any one of you had sex but you had a sneaky feeling your tipsy turning drunk husband would bring it up. "So, who was your first kiss, Leon?" You asked, taking a bite of the braised rib on your plate (that you worked your ass off on, might we add) while your head slowly turned over to meet his gaze. "Some girl in like...4th grade. She kissed me first. I don't even remember her name." You laugh, jokingly raising your hand to signal you were the same. "Anyone after that?" Leon shakes his head. "Just some college girls and Ada." The table falls silent, the sound of forks scraping against the plate and quiet chewing beginning to get on your nerves due to the fact nobody was speaking. "And after that?" Your husband chimes in and you realize you would rather just have the sounds of chewing and forks scraping than having him say something stupid. Leon shakes his head, assuming whatever your husband was trying to imply was a joke, but you knew better and you had a feeling he knew better as well. "Oh, come on, Leon. You're telling me you haven't at least kissed another woman after marrying Ada." He fights back an eye roll. You laugh. "Can't say I have." "No? Seriously. That's what makes relationship so healthy. Just a once in a while business trip where you're drowning in pussy." Your mouth dried. Blink and you'd miss it, Leon's cool facade cracks and shatters, a scowl overtaking his face. "Well. I'll have to think about that sometime." You look at him, noticing that he was threatening to say something. Something ballsy. Something that might, quite literally, have your soaked panties flung across the room. The look in your eyes was daring him to say it. The fucked part of you wanted to hear it.

"What if someone fucked your wife? Would it be any different?" And just like that, you're on fire. Of course you found it hot. Because his best friend, who is not supposed to have any romantic feelings towards his friend's wife mind you, was actually standing up for you. "The fuck you just say to me?" Leon gets up from his seat with a death glare that could kill any man but oh lord, you? You're fucking living for this. "You heard me. What if I fucked your wife? Would it be any different?" Your eyes widen, head snapping over to Leon. Oh, he wanted to fuck you? He wanted to fuck you? Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit! Within minutes, your husband tackles Leon and tries punching him but if you think he's winning this fight, you are sorely mistaken. Leon was a government agent and in seconds, he's on top of Ezra beating the lights out of him. After the shock (let's be honest here, giddiness) passes, you pull Leon off of your husband, mumbling to him to calm down. You were surprised when he had apologized and asked to take your husband to the emergency room.

"How's the eye?" You asked, reaching over and pulling the ice pack back a little so you could see the damage. A few capillaries in his eye had burst open, making his eye look all bloody and gross. The beginnings of a dark bruise were beginning to form.

"Hurts. But nothing I haven't felt before." True, he was a government agent assigned to save the world over and over again: so this might be just a blip in his entire career. You nod, patting his arm and settling back into your seat beside him. Tonight hadn't been what you anticipated at all. You just wanted a cozy dinner with Leon and your husband to ease his loneliness. He was cooped up in his house and you knew he would neglect to feed himself. "I'm sorry." He murmured to you, referencing the least important elephant in the room. "About him...cheating on you. If it's any consolation, I'm sure he's not—" You interrupt him.

"He is. It's nothing I don't already know." He nodded, finally taking your hand in his own and running his calloused thumb across the soft and vastly explored top half of your hand. Your husband cheated on you. Something you had dreaded for so long when you first met him but now the fact was spoken into the air just felt like...relief. Like you didn't have to play the guessing game anymore. You weren't acting in a role of a dumb, clueless housewife bobbling around with her mouth and legs open if your husband so chose to have mercy on your needs and finally have mediocre sex with you. "And I also want to apologize for what I said. About fucking you. I wouldn't actually do that to you, yeah? I was just pissed he said that stuff to you." You both know it's bullshit. You both know he wants to fuck. You both know he sleeps with Ada wishing it was you. You pat his arm. "It's okay." A nurse arrives into the waiting room, clipboard totted on her side and a much too relieved poker face gracing her features. "Your husband is alright. We admitted him for a few days to monitor his status, make sure nothing odd pops up. Just needed a few stitches and painkillers so he should be fine." The both of you took that as a cue to take off for the night. Although Leon had been wondering if you'd even visit him in the hospital after the whole cheating confession thing, probably not. Getting up from your seats, Leon takes you by the hand and walks you out to your car. The night air was a soothing chill against your skin, the warmth of Leon's palm bursting through the layers of cold your body temperature had managed to build up. "If you ever decide to....y'know...divorce him. You can always stay with us for a bit while you get back on your feet." His hand rubbed up and down your arm, soothing you like you had lost something very special to you. Which you had: your husband. But that was long ago and the admission was a long time coming: the band-aid had been ripped off of your skin and the pain had subsided. "Thank you." You whisper. He nods. His eyes flicker down to your lips, hand moving from the side of your cold arm to your cheek. His thumb caresses your bottom lip and moving dangerously close to the inside of your mouth. In his eyes, they're zoned out, almost like he's reminiscing of Ada. But you're not Ada. You're you. And that's what has him writhing with lustful agony. But the problem was that there was still a woman he was betrothed to and as much as he hated it, he had a duty to be loyal to her. He hadn't ever broken that loyalty to her and he's not starting anytime soon. With a sigh, he pulls away from you. "I'll see you around, yeah?" He doesn't even let you respond before he awkwardly pats your arm and leaves you alone in the hospital parking lot, leaving you wanting for more. "...Bye." You mumble, getting into your own car to drive home. But on the ride home, Leon's left you wondering. Wondering what would happen if he had just thrown caution to the wind and kissed you. But he was right. You were both married. The most tragic thing of all being that it's not to each-other.

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bandgie · 1 year ago

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Cursed

Yandere!Innie x fem!reader

a/n: another psycho innie cuz I can't get enough of him!

synopsis: At first you just thought you had bad luck. The things you loved always seem to leave you, abandon you. It didn't matter how hard you tried or what you loved, it would always leave you. Unlike I.N, your childhood best friend, now lover, who stays by your side through it all. He's the only thing you can count on, even if he can be a little possessive.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, yandere behavior, manipulation, animal cruelty, PIV, no foreplay, blood play (sorry), Innie is toxic, slight over stimulation, praising, idk I think that's it

song!

2.9k words

The first thing to leave you was your cat. You were about 7 when you first got it, cute fluffy tail and giant whiskers you adored. I.N, your best friend in the 2nd grade, seemed to share the same sentiment. You both dotted on the cat with him going to your house nearly everyday to feed it. You both would pretend that you were the parents and the cat tat baby. It was all fine.

Until Innie began feeling like you loved it too much, more than you loved him. How you would pet it, coo at it, let it lay in your lap for hours at a time. It's not your fault though, it was that feline's fault for taking you away from him. I.N could never get mad at you, even if you ignored him. He would just have to get rid of the thing distracting you, and you would go back to loving him and only him.

It's how you found your kitten mangled in its own bones. You had screamed, wailed to your parents about your dead kitty. It was mauled, they told you. The next school day, you had told I.N about the tragedy. He consoled you, held you as you cried. It's in a better place now, he said in your ear.

Since then, you refrained from having pets. The pain of losing them was too much, and you don't think you could stand another heartbreak. Innie was there for you, always there for you. Didn't matter how late it was, if he had work to do, if he had to scream at his parents to drive him to your place, he was always there.

So it makes sense when you told him about the guy that asked you out once you got to middle school. I.N had told you not to date him, but you brushed it off. "You're too overprotective," you giggled. He laughed with you, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. The rest of the day, he was quiet. When you asked him what was wrong, he would say, "I'm just thinking."

The boy who confessed to you came back with a broken arm the next to school. Apparently, someone with a mask attacked him and threatened him. He didn't get into details, but he decided to withdraw his confession. You were bummed, but you understood his situation. You had Innie after all, you wouldn't be alone.

This bad luck persisted in high school. Friends didn't stick for too long, teachers seemed to give you the cold shoulder, almost all the boys avoided you at all costs.

"Am I that ugly?" You cried to I.N in your room. You both had been studying for your Econ final, but you ended up how lonely you felt all these years. Like always, he held you in his arms, wiped your tears, kissed the top of your head. "No, of course not," his voice was gentle. "I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen."

You dryly laughed as you wiped your tears. "You don't have to lie to me just to make me feel better." You expected him to laugh and agree with you, but his expression was serious. The air in the room shifted as he took your hands in his own. He spoke your name softly, lovingly. It made your breath hitch in your throat. "I would never lie to you. I...love you. I really do. I don't know if this is the right time or how to even say it, but...would you be my girlfriend?"

His timidness was obvious in how he rubbed his fingers over your hands. It wasn't often to see him like this, but it was cute whenever he did get all shy. Deep down, you knew he liked you. You knew from how he spoke to you, how he listened to all the things you wanted to say. You could even tell when he would get jealous when some boys would talk to you in P.E. It was cute, he is cute. And deep down, you've fallen for him too after so long.

You gripped his hands firmer for reassurance, "Of course, Innie. I think I've loved you for a long time now."

Years passed with you two together, now in college. Sure you may not have friends, yeah your coworkers eye you wearily, but you're happy. You're happy with I.N. You two are always around each other whether it be on dates, in the apartment, on campus. He would wait for you even if his class ended hours before yours. Love, you told yourself. He does it because he loves you.

It does come as a shock to you though when he seems upset at the thought of you adopting a cat. You assumed he would be happy for you for overcoming your fears, but his reaction was the opposite. "I just don't see why we need a pet," he argued. "Don't you remember what happened last time? I thought we agreed to stay away from animals."

You grimaced at the memory, but pressed on. "Yeah I know. But we were young. We just didn't know how to take care of it. Please Innie I just want something to keep me company." Your pleas don't stir him in the way you hope. "Keep you company?" He questions. "Am I not enough for you?" Uh-oh, that hadn't come out the way you had hoped.

"No! You are babe, you're more than enough. This is just for me for-"

"Great then," he cuts you off with a clipped tone. "You don't need a cat if you have me." You bite your tongue to keep from arguing with him. A part of you wants to believe that he's doing this for your own good. That he's just trying to protect you like he always does. Still, you leave the room with upset footsteps, ignoring how he calls out your name.

Maybe it wasn't the best choice to get a cat behind his back, but you don't regret it. Not as you hold the small kitten in your hands as you walk into your apartment. It meows and yawns even though it had slept the whole drive home. You kiss its pink nose and nuzzle it close to your face. "I'll take care of you."

You would've taken care of it, you would've had it live forever if it was up to you. You tried keeping it in the garage of your house, hidden from I.N eyes. He'll warm up to it, you think to yourself. You keep deluding yourself into thinking that I.N would be okay with sharing your love. Deep down, you knew. Deep down, deep into the creases of your mind, you knew he would do anything to you for himself.

So it's really no surprise when you come home from work early to find him putting the kitten in a plastic bag. It was already dead, limp body hangin off his slender fingers with wide, lifeless eyes. You had screamed, thrown your bag on the ground and ran to the kitten corpse. The look was I.N's face was pure shock, confusion, anger. Still, not a hint of remorse in his eyes.

"You're home early," he managed to speak as you cried. You just screamed at him, cursed at him. You didn't;r even need to ask what happened. Not with his bloody fingers and the small scratch marks on his wrist. There was a curse on you, and that curse was Yang Jeongin.

No apology, no soothing, no nothing. You had somewhat expected him to at least pretend to care, but he just gave you that blank stare when he's deep in thought. You cradled the small kitten in your hands, petting it as if it could respond. I.N's hands finally came to rest on your shoulder to steady himself. He looked pained, irritated, unsure.

You chocked back your sobs, "Why?" Yes, you knew Jeongin was possessive, you knew he could get a little too jealous a little too easily. You hated that you knew that, and you hated it even more when you ignored it. Now, you're paying the price for your ignorance. You just don't understand why he had to go to such lengths, such desperation.

He heavily sighed, hanging his head down. "Baby I...I just love you so much. It hurts, I can't even breathe. I want you to be happy, with me. Only me. I just need you, and I hate it when you don't need me. It makes me feel like you don't love me, that you wish I wasn't here."

You know he's doing this to manipulate you, to make you feel bad for him. Even still, you set the cat down and embrace him. It shocks you just how much he was shaking. From anger? Sadness? You'll never know. All you can do is comfort him, and find comfort in him. How he can be your salvation and your curse, not even God could understand.

"I do love you Innie," you speak through your tears. "I love you so much, in ways you'll never know. But you can't do this! This is enough. When we were younger I understand but now-"

He cuts you off with a kiss. It's powerful, controlling, harsh. You whimper from the force of it, pushing on his chest lightly to get him off. He breaks away for a moment to look you deep in the eyes. A shiver goes down your spine with how wide his pupils are. "Do you love me?"

I.N's hands grasp at your hips, keeping you close to him as he awaits your answer. You know you do, you both do. For some reason, his question weighs heavy on you. Like he's asking for more than just your love. With a shaky breath, you answer, "Yes."

He's back on you in a second. He backs you up until you hit the dinner table. I.N's hands are a little harsh on your hips, but you find solace in his touch. He's familiar, he's warn, he's love. He's love in the filthiest form, impure. His touch sends goosebumps in your skin, and you tug on his bottom lip in response.

Rather than sucking on your tongue like he usually does, his lips travel down your jawline, your neck, to your chest. Your hands grip his hair, tugging and pushing him closer. "I love you, I love you," it's a spell you can't stop chanting. A promise to him that you'll love him forever, no matter the cost.

I.N gathers you in his hands and sets you on the table. You immediately open your legs to give him room. He's moved up back to your neck. His bites hurt, and it leaves you whimpering. Hid bloody fingers unbuckle his belt, undoing his zipper. You hoist your long skirt over yourself, holding it towards your chest.

No prep, no stretching, no feeling on I.N's tongue on your pussy. The penetration is going to hurt, you can feel it already with how he frees himself from the hole in his boxers. You quiver in anticipation, feeling how he rubs the head of his cock on your clothed pussy. I.N would love to finger you, but the thought of infecting you with the cat blood quickly shuts down the idea.

"I need you baby," he whispers in your ear. You moan in response, "You already have me." He pulls away from the crook of your neck to look down at your pussy. He uses his pinky finger (the only one not bloody) and moved your panties to the side. It looks so small, so unprepared. "I'm gonna hurt you," he looks up at you unsurely.

It's cute how considerate he looks in front of you. Hair going in different angles, lips red from kissing, chest heaving. I.N had just killed your shortly beloved kitten, but he looks unbelievable lovely now. You must think there's something wrong with you because you still crave his cock slamming into your cunt.

"You already hurt me."

Your words have an immediate effect on him. It's obvious in how is caring expression turn dark. He turns his attention back onto your soon-to-be-broken pussy and grabs his cock with his free hand. I.N smears your arousal over your clit, watching how you shiver from the contact.

He angles downward and presses into your cunt. The first stretch make you squeal. You open your legs wider to accommodate to him. Rather than staying sitting up, you find yourself laying full down on the table. I.N continues to push in against your tight walls. Tears sting in your eyes, and upon the sight, Jeongin wipes your tears away. Some blood manages to smear on your cheek, and it makes him moan outloud.

"You're so beautiful," he says it like it's a fact. To him, it is. With you laying down, eyes red from crying, cheek smeared with blood, your thighs wide for his pleasure. You look perfect, you are perfect for him. No one can take that away from him, he'll kill them before they even have the thought.

His hands are under your knees when he full bottoms out. The pressure in your pussy in unbearable, but you can't stop moaning with being full of him. He thrusts slowly, letting you adjust to his girth. It doesn't matter what I.N has done, or what he will do. If there's one thing for certain, your Innie hates the thought of giving you pain.

You bring your legs backwards so your knees are up to your chest. In this way, I.N is able to deeply penetrate you. His strokes pick up pace, and have to cover your mouth with how loud you've become. His hands are on the back of your thighs, leaving bloody fingerprints. I.N can't help but paint a mental picture in his mind of you right now. You're covered in absolute filth, and you still look like a goddess.

Both of your hands grip your breasts as you take him. You love the feeling of being under him, having him use you like nothing. Foreplay or no foreplay, I.N knows how to give you indescribable pleasure. The sounds your pussy and his dick make when meeting is pornographic. You could even hear the gentle scratching of the dinner table legs against the floor.

Jeongin doesn't hold back his praises from you. He's always ben vocal in bed, but he seems uncontrollable now. "My girl, fuck you're my girl. Pussy belongs to me, only me. Say-fuck!- say it." You don't know why he thinks you're able to speak. You're too busy being fucked to think properly. To get your attention, I.N uses one his hands to grip your chin. He forces eye contact, "Say it."

You babble nonsense for a moment before forcing your brain to think. "Yours! Jeongin I'm yours. Only you, only you!" Your hazy eyes focus on the smile that appears on his face. It makes your stomach warm with affection upon seeing it. Yeah, there's no doubt in your mind that I.N loves you. He just does it in a different way.

"Oh fuck baby," he groans. "I'm gonna cum, gonna make this little pussy so fucking wet." You can feel it too, your pending orgasm. You honestly don't know how you managed so long. He's cock has been stroking your insides in all the right ways. Stretching you out in delicious precision.

Your lower tummy heats up with pleasure, and your body shakes in anticipation. "I want it. I want it so bad," you whine. I.N's thrusts into you until his thighs clap against the back of yours. You feel him so deep, you think he's touching your heart literally and figuratively. Your walls squeeze around him a few times before you bursts. You series of whimpers and moans leave your lips as you cum.

Jeongin fucks you through it, eyes watching where your cream paints his dick. Your so tight, pulling him back in to the point where he feels like he no option but to cum in your womb. His hot cum spurts in you, leaving no room for escape. His tip kisses your cervix and you shriek at the penetration.

"Innie!" You cry out. "Too deep! I can't...I can't!"

He knows you can take it, that it hurts too good. He presses himself deeper into you, and you sob. It feels like fire, as if your body is overwhelmed with inhumane pleasure. You start shaking and twitching, a clear sign that he's pushing you beyond what you can handle.

Finally, he relents. His softening cock slips out of you and you whimper at the loss of contact. It's bliss to feel his arousal seeping out of you. It travels down your ass onto the table. I.N can't help but stare at your pussy, keeping your underwear moved to the side. "Such a good girl for me."

You're too busy catching your breath to care how his hands keep massaging your body. You think he's trying to soothe you, give you some aftercare, but you're wrong. He's trying to smear the dried blood on you, marking you. Your bruised neck and thighs are enough proof, but Jeongin can't help but use your body as a canvas.

"Such a pretty little thing," he coos. You smile lazily at him, trying to ignore the sudden possessive look in his eyes. "You're gonna stay with me right? You said that." His voice is sure, determined. It doesn't matter if you disagree with him, he's going to make you see how perfect you are for each other. All you do is nod and blink back your tears.

You're his, and he's yours. A curse you just can't find yourself to get rid of...not that you would if you could.

a/n: guys im so sorry. so much has been going on in my life its crrazzyyy I dont know how I'm keeping it together. is the ending rushed? perhaps... Should I have done a better job...perhaps. at least I did it please praise me

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b1ackoutartist · 2 years ago

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Mommy

Natasha x reader

TW: mommy kink, strap-on use, age gap (legal)

You ever hated yourself for not completely muting you phone in class? Because Y/N does in this moment. The buzzing of the phone was anything Hut quiet in the already quiet room, so Y/N sighed and tried her best not to look too noticeable when she pulled her phone out, knowing her professor hates to see these damn things while he his teaching, his words. She was actually paying attention until her phone buzzed again, distracting her. "You’re so cute, you know that right?" She looked at it and saw Natasha's name, and as if the older woman sensed her looking, her phone buzzed again. She tried to ignore it, but it wouldn't stop so she cracked and took the chance to see what Natasha was texting about. "But I’ve got to say… you look much cuter face down, ass up in front of me." "And gosh, you look positively adorable when your eyes roll back into your head as I feed inch after inch of my strap into your aching cunt."

The messages were far from innocent.

"You look so gorgeous, sweetheart, when you’re crying out, begging me to fuck you harder, to use you like the slut you know you are."

A buzz again.

"And you’re so, so cute when you’re cumming for me over, and over, and over again."

Y/N cheeks began to heat up, and her heart started to race as she read each sentence written by Natasha. To say she was just about right Y/N's type would be an understanding. Natasha was Russian, red hair, green eyes, older, confident, intelligent and overall beautiful. A plus to Y/N was that she got to see her in a suit almost everyday, with Natasha being the CEO of her own company. Even this little detail about her, made the younger girl be even more drawn to her.

Y/N felt her face flush and her heart pound in her throat. She realized the heat between her legs, already getting increasingly wet. She quickly shook her head and tried to concentrate on her studies, even though it was no use. Having to do something to stop this, she sent back a message asking Natasha to stop. But of course, the Russian woman just acted coy and said "But I didn't do anything detka :)"

Y/N knew better than to continue with this conversation, so she stuffed her phone back into her pocket, and tried her best to focus on the lecture for the remainder of the class. She knew her thoughts wouldn't be fully focused on her studies, but at least she could manage playing along until her class ended.

The rest of the day had been exhausting, but she surrived and thanks to Natasha's busy day, without anymore texts from the older woman. Exiting the last class of the day, she immediately started heading for the exit, wanting to get out of the building and begin her journey home. As she opened the door, she expected to see her girlfriend to be in her office working, but instead, she found Natasha, sitting on the couch, watching some TV show.

Natasha looked up at her and smiled. "Hey младенец, how was your day?".

Y/N ignored her as she made her way to the couch. Hopping up onto it, she straddled Natasha's lap and looked into her eyes pleadingly. Y/N took her hands and placed them on her side, silently begging her to touch her. She let out a soft moan as Natasha's hands finally did move, her fingers trailing over Y/N's skin slowly making their way down her waist, and under her skirt. Y/N inhaled sharply and ground her hips against Natasha's thigh.

"Mommy," Y/N said softly as she closed her eyes, the sensation of Natasha's touch coursing through her body.

With a light chuckle Natasha replies "Yes baby?" Natasha moved her head around Y/N's neck, planting soft kisses in the areas around her ear. Y/N moaned softly as Natasha took her time, savoring the taste of the other woman's skin against her lips, sucking on it to leave marks.

Y/N pressed herself harder against Natasha, trying to intensify their embrace. Her hips moved rhythmically against Natasha's thigh as she sought out more pleasure, unable to resist the temptation to move her hips faster. She felt Natasha smile against her and heard her respond with a quiet chuckle.

"Do you want more baby. Want mommy to fuck you?" Natasha whispered, her breath hot against Y/N's skin.

Y/N could hardly form a response, but she managed to gasp out "Yes! Please mommy, fuck me" as her hips continued their persistent movements against Natasha.

Natasha's fingers trailed across Y/N's body, eliciting more low moans from her lips. Y/N's hips moved more frantically, and she began to beg Natasha for more.

"Please, please," She whimpered, her eyes closed as she could feel herself teetering on the edge of pleasure.

Suddenly, Natasha paused and forced the younger girl to stop. Groaning and annoyed at the loss of pleasure, Y/N opened her eyes and looked at the other woman, her mouth open in a silent question.

Natasha smiled and slowly opened her pants, revealing a thick strap. Bigger than the ones she was used to. Y/N wanted to protest and tell her that it was too big, but Natasha's eyes silenced her.

"You'll make it fit, шлюха" She said coldly, her voice full of authority.

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat and lowered herself onto the strap, closing her eyes as the sensation was too intense for her. She gasped and tears streamed down her face, feeling a mixture of pleasure and pain from the size.

Natasha didn't move away, but instead grabbed Y/N's chin and forced her to look at her.

"You want more, don't you? Tell me you want more Малышка" she said. Her voice was full of dominance, and it sent a shiver down Y/N's spine.

Y/N nodded, unable to respond.

Natasha leaned in and began to choke her, pushing her hips up to meet Y/N's rhythm as she begged for more and more.

"deep breath, baby. that’s it - keep your eyes on me. you can do it."

Y/N's hips moved of their own accord as Natasha moved her hands around Y/N's body, eliciting more moans from Y/N.

"fuck look at how you open up for me. you said it wouldn’t fit but my cock is sliding in so easy. looks like you were meant to take this cock. that’s right, Принцесса"

Making Y/N move her hips faster as Natasha moves one hand to her clit, rubbing it while watching her girlfriend fuck herself on her strap.

"feel me deep inside you, stretching you out so beautifully. keep breathing for me. good girl "

Finally, when Y/N was on the edge of climax, Natasha's grip suddenly released and she pulled away. Y/N groaned and opened her eyes, looking at Natasha with half-lidded eyes.

Natasha silently smiled and gave Y/N a last, lingering kiss.

"Go ahead, baby " she said. "Be a good girl and cum for mommy."

Y/N complied and, with a loud moan, gave into the pleasure and pleasure and let it wash over her with full force.

After coming down from her height, Y/N slumped against Natasha, laying her head against her girlfriends shoulder.

Natasha leaned over and kissed Y/N's forehead, brushing a few strands of hair out of her eyes.

"Such a good girl for mommy" she said softly.

Y/N smiled sleepily and closed her eyes.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #marvel #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine

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minimag1c · 3 months ago

Text

Finally ANOTHER CHAPTER OF YOU REALLY DIDN'T KNOW YIPEEEE

Uhm- anyway-

Be ready I'm gonna post a lot for a week and some of you will know why this for now I will feed you with this

Chapter IV: Connections

A knock on the door.

"Ma'am Jophiel?"

Followed by silence.

Something that was unusual or eerie during this specific period in the holy place.

"Nirvana", one the most prominent and famous studios of Heaven have just finished filming an ad for the new perfume that was currently trending with the holy place and the main actress of it retired herself after a few shots who weren't that successful except the last one.

Say, the main actress wasn't just any averagely known figure they picked up on social medias or a doll face like cherub that anyone would fall in love with but the literal, actual and well known Archangel of beauty, Jophiel. The company was already a cash flowing one and well known for their high expectations and goals so it wasn't that all surprising if one of the virtues was also working on the commercial but the masses didn't actually know that for perfectionists, it was fighting with nail and tooth until their figurative and physical state collapse.

That doesn't mean the Archangel Jophiel was the type to exhaust her celestial bones until her own feathers would feel heavy on her wings' flesh however, there where those moments of surmenage accompanied with a bad timing for a sensory overload, let's just say the walking ticking bomb of emotions nesting on eggshells finally exploded and of course in the middle of another shooting.

And here's another problem: No one knew what to do when the model had her meltdown. Of course they didn't knew that this would happen, when hiring one of the original Morningstar, they didn't excepted that of them would actually react badly and it wasn't even on a failed attempt or whatsoever, it was... Just because of a few bright lights.

But after hindsight, did they actually make it too much? It wasn't everyday someone could witness this and did an archangel even needed to be taken care of? Or could they heal themselves? Or on the contrary, they actually needed to be more pampered and looked on??

Almost everyone in the studio would have be shut down, asking those questions that they never considered before if it wasn't for the exception of an heavenly being with a heart pin in his brown hair and clothed with plain a white short sleeved shirt and black pants holding a clipboard in hand who went to the backstage, specifically in the archangel's room.

Actually, he was just like Jophiel except he was the Archangel of love but employees and workers in Nirvana didn't suspect that a lambda manager's assistant is Chamuel Morningstar or, in some texts and other choices of words, Camael. Plus, his disguise made him pretty much unrecognizable and thus, it wouldn't make sense that people would be able to connect the dots between these two identities unless they have stalked or knew the archangel too well which wasn't that many or anyone at all except his siblings.

Right now, Chamuel has put aside the bumble bee-esque sounds roaming and buzzing in the studios or in other rooms except the backstages as he waited patiently in front of Jophiel's door, crossing his arms while lightly tapping his foot. There could be a chance that she wasn't probably inside but instead trying her best to calm down or plaster a smile solid enough to be believable for a few hours or, if she was lucky enough, the whole day and an afternoon in a nearby bathroom but Chamuel had a sharp hearing and if it was for the slight shuffling of a sheet accompanied by a thud, he would have thought about checking the second option.

"Ma'am? Can you hear me?" He asked again, more concern evident in his words. Jophiel herself already knew that her own sibling was in Nirvana, working undercover but she didn't actually know where they were nor what was their costumes or other appellation of it. Another thing is that she didn't really know who it was hence Chamuel preferred to be formal for now as to not overwhelm her even more. Plus, it was also just in case if one of the staff accidentally stumbled next to him and actually realize that two even more powerful than the average heavenly entity was inadvertently working with them.

Camael wasn't sure what would be their reaction but it was better safe than sorry.

In the end, after waiting for a good few minutes, the archangel felt that it was enough for him to enter inside the room, not before warning the one inside it. Without further ado, he opened the door.

Overall, it was the typical decor of any Hollywood backstage and rooms for any stars and celebrities except it had angelic motifs and touch of different yellow hue, from slightly pastel, even white to straight up bright albeit it was only a small portion. Aside from the vanity, there was a simple lemon flavored couch glued to the wall, a small ball of sheets was sitting on it, occasionally shifting back and forth slightly but stayed still on the soft cushions.

If it wasn't for the short curly hair that faded at the tip, Camael wouldn't have guessed that it was Jophiel, putting aside the room's design.

With the softest smile he could plastered on his face, he cautiously when towards the other archangel as he sat down next to her, barely touching her shoulder as to not frighten her furthermore.

"Hey" he started, being as gentle as possible. "What got you so bummed out?" He asked, no hint of malice in his voice.

It took a moment for Camael to get a reaction from her but slightly, ever so slightly she poked out her heard, her eye who was visible out of the sheet glaring at him. Chamuel smiled furthermore.

"Hale."

Hale was the name that Camael picked up for his camouflage in Nirvana. He liked the name rolling out of his tongue, plus he liked the meaning behind it, healthy and good looking, even though he didn't considered himself as a healer, he considered love as a fuel, something that everyone, platonic or not, could use as a natural medicine, a coping mechanism if used well, a link for strengthening emotional support.

But after all, who was he to tell, being a healer, a pillar of marble was Raphael's purpose and duty.

Which, now that Camael thought about it, he hasn't seen his brother in a while...

But that wasn't the current situation that mattered at hand right now. The mass of wrapped blankets started to wriggle a bit next to the archangel until the woman's head fully emerged from it. Her own eyeshadows stained slightly the corner her eyes while the pigment of her yellow blush started to fade out. Her hair was also a mess but, as the beared of the title "one of the most beautiful archangel", of course her appearance would have been a sweet eyestrain in a gawking way.

For the first few seconds, she hasn't moved nor said a word until a small, barely present, mischievous smirk appeared on her face as she finally spoke, her voice a tad raspy.

"You still kept that weird wonky nickname of yours?"

It tooks Camael a while to process what she actually just said before he widened his eyes and lightly punched her on the side. Albeit there was no harm intended nor actual force in his fist, he pouted slightly, huffing at her snarky remark.

"Hey! You said that it was good when I told you I would use that name!" He slightly scolded her. Jophiel's small smile widened a bit more. "Cammy, you already know that when I said that, it was out of from pure sarcasm."

The concerned one only proceeded to roll his eyes, soon finding himself to laugh at her propos and even more, his own joyfulness contagious as Jophiel soon followed him, albeit with less energy and more with a las feeling lingering.

It didn't tooks that much time, in fact it was only a few minutes after, for the feminine archangel to slump back on her velvet couch, drowning again in her sheets and sour mood.

Chamuel titled his head to the side, his smile slowly faltering before it became a thin line, both eyebrows frowning slightly as he looked at her. However, when he was about to speak up again, trying to come up with another way to confront her state, the archangel of beauty was faster, asking with a still a tad hoarse voice coated words.

"What are you even doing here-?"

"Just wanted to check on you, Joy. Is that a crime?"

The concerned one huffed slightly, even though it seemed more like a sigh of resignation. Camael, nonetheless, didn't backed down as he ever slowly and gently put his hand barely next the sheets that shielded Jophiel from the outside world. The woman was not really the one to be easily open to other people and less when she wasn't having it, emotions and feelings speaking or just meeting others but Chamuel was still persistent. Not stubborn. Persistent was a better word and he was really one, mainly to help other and relatives.

"Jophiel I just want to check on you." He admitted, his eyes showing his empathized bummed out feeling, mirroring with Jophiel. The latter only scoffed lightly, shrugging her shoulders although her gaze still hasn't met the other's.

"It's nothing really. I'm an archangel I can deal with it."

"You know what I mean." He said, rather harsh with knowing it but Jophiel continued, hers still firm on her own conviction but it felt more like she was already getting irritated by Chamuel's continuing presence.

"They were just a few lights. I can handle it but it's just I was more tired than usual today-" Jophiel was about to continue but Chamuel was already getting impatient as well, his own feelings starting to grow tumultuous because of his empath ability increasing.

"Jophiel, don't start pulling out those excuses on me, you already know it won't work." They said, tense. Jophiel glared at him intensely, her lips quivering and, for a moment, Camael really thought that she was going to snap at the other.

But then, instead, she tooks a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying her best to not escalate quickly as she buried herself furthermore in her small makeshift nest, not wanting to add anything else.

Somehow Chamuel felt even worse with that kind of reaction.

An oppressive and awkward silence settled between the two heavenly beings, both of them hesitating if the other would talk or themself. In the end, Chamuel was the one who broke the silence first, sighing heavily before.

"Listen Joy I-... I'm sorry I really didn't wanted to get on your nerves but I just want to help." He said before adding other words, with more pleading coating his words. "Please. Can I at least try to do something? For you?" He insisted slightly, his once persistence fading throughout the time.

Jophiel thought about his question for a short while and was about to answer until he cut her off again, slightly deadpan.

"Except telling me to go away. At least something I can do right now before you throw me out."

"Dammit." She muttered. Chamuel shrugged.

"You heard me."

The silence was still unbearable for the two but this time it was shorter. In the end, Jophiel gave up at trying to be reculant towards him but still, it tooks strength for the archangel to eventually speak up.

"Can I have some water-? Just a small bottle." She asked, her voice barely audible.

Chamuel looked at her, his eyes a bit wide but didn't minded it. Of course, as someone whose powers where just powerful enough, he could snap his fingers and make water appears but he thought to himself that it could be more appreciated if he tries to find one normally since he wanted to walk a bit as well.

"Alright if you say so-"

"But please."

Jophiel's suddenly interrupted them almost made him jump as he looked at her, a bit confused but still, they listened to what was she going to say...

... Even if what she said after somehow made them feel a needle stuck in their heart.

"After that just leave me alone. I really don't want to deal with- I really don't want to deal with anyone right now." She said, now fully hiding her entire physical being inside her sheets.

They knew that she didn't meant any harmful undertone in her sentence but Camael felt a slight weight in his stomach, an unpleasant feeling of uselessness wrenching his guts. Obviously, he felt stupid for feeling like this but it was stronger than him and for a fraction of second, he was about to get really upset.

But then, with hindsight, if it meant helping his sister, than he wouldn't mind.

He shouldn't mind.

"... Of course."

And they left, closing the door without any words.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

The archangel of wisdom sat on the floor rummaged through the mountains of papers and scrolls that was in her office alongside with the library, slightly tense and frowning.

The exterminations! How come she have never heard of it? And the fact that the actual head of the seraphim hid that cruel method from the virtues since how many years?? Centuries or eons even???

She was the archangel of wisdom. The archangel of knowledge and closely related to the Heavenly Council, Hell even one of the seven virtue, someone who was supposed to be all knowing and who was able to depict everything and be a powerful being but then if she didn't even knew about these barbaric ways, how can she even still considered herself as enough for this title? And moreso, if Sera hid it away from prying eyes for a long time now, that only emphasize how unworthy the more she thought about-

No. She was worthy of it and that's the reason why she was here, working her ass off, totally not on the verge of a breakdown with a brain as gushy as mud because she have found nothing about the exterminations. Totally not because of that.

A b s o l u t e l y n o t.

... Okay clearly she needed a break.

Uriel grunted, pinching in between her eyes, massaging it slightly, feeling yet another headache incoming as she let go of the papers who were gripped tightly in her hand as she sighed heavily, stress gradually leaving her as she realized how actually exhausted and hungry she was.

"I should probably summon a cereal bar or a bottle of red bull before continuing.." she thought to herself.

However, when she was about to get up to stretch herself, a small black flame suddenly materialized itself in front of her, slightly startling the archangel. Uriel raised an eyebrow before the flame changed its form to a more rectangular one until a dark purple lunch box appeared and almost fell on the floor if it wasn't for the woman who catched it.

At first, she raised an eyebrow in confusion, looking closer at it before she deadpanned, clearly not having it.

Obviously, she knew about the one who gave her this and, normally, she would either laugh a bit or smile at the gesture but the amount of works she had to do today really took a toll on her.

"Azrael, I'm really not in the mood right now." She said out loud. Not that long after, a figure emerged from the ground, wrapped in a black mist until an archangel with long white hair and black wings stepped forward, their arm crossed on their chest, a slight sight of disappointment on their face.

"It is not about your mood or whatsoever, Yuri. You didn't touched food for so long it's now as cold as Antarctica before climate change." Azrael said, raising an eyebrow at Uriel who slightly glared at him, not only because of the nickname but also because she definitely didn't wanted him to come.

"I thought you were the virtue of patience. Why did you even came when I told you I was still working?" She asked. He shrugged.

"Just because I'm that doesn't mean I shouldn't jump on when my siblings doesn't even know how to take care of themselves." He answered, just as nonchalant.

Uriel grumbled under her breath but, nonetheless, couldn't help but bring the lunch box close to her because of the divine smell. Azrael couldn't help but chuckles a bit as he sat next to her, leaning on a pile of old leather books as the other archangel opened the lunch box and widened her eyes, seeing a variety of Korean like dishes. Azrael couldn't help but smile fondly at his sister.

"I've decided to prepare a new one since the last was really not it. Don't worry about the temperature, you can wait a bit because I'm pretty sure it's still hotter than Australia."

"I still don't know why you keep doing Earth and its problems related jokes or metaphors these last few weeks." Uriel said, summoning chopsticks as she took a piece of kimchi. Azrael only hummed.

"When you constantly deal with Death lingering around mainly because of humans' stupidity, might as well use some dark humor to cope. With limits of course." Azrael added the last part as he smiled furthermore when Uriel ate a piece of the meal and hummed in approval, pleased of the savory taste of Azrael's cooking. She shallowed before continuing, her eyes darting away, her tone almost nostalgic.

"Mmh. You reminded me of the time during the ten plagues in Egypt where you accompanied me and kept making jokes all around because of the numerous deaths." Uriel piped in, a small, soft smile on her face yet at the same time restraining herself to not shake her head at the memory.

"Well, technically you were the one who would check if the door have lamb's blood while I shoot the kid." Azrael said almost as a matter of fact, smiling in false innocence.

Uriel almost choked on her meal as she glared at her bother, her joy being ephemeral after that propos. She narrowed her eyes at him before letting out a sigh, rubbing his eyes behind her glasses.

"For Mother's sake Azrael, I said take them, not shoot them!"

"Knowing the context of it, pretty sure these two are the same thing, am I wrong-?"

Now that caught Uriel off.

"Well- uh- i-" The archangel of wisdom was about to pull up another stunt but upon realizing that she let out a huff of resignation.

When the angel of death seemed to observe that his sibling didn't had anything else to say, he couldn't help but laugh at her attempt. Obviously, not out of malice rather a begnine teasing.

"Either way you understood what I was trying to say."

"Yeah. Of course."

And despite it, Uriel didn't fought back the small crack of smile that creeped out up on her face.

Soon, a silence settled between the two. For a the primary few minutes, it was decent until the atmosphere gotten thick, shifting unto something more awkward and unbearable to handle even for the toughest shells.

Unfortunately, Azrael's question only added more unwanted salt to the elephant in the room.

"It has been almost a week since I didn't saw you coming out of the library."

Uriel was playing and poking her remaining teokkbokki, contemplating the metaphorical voie in front while her consciousness tried to process fully what her brother was implying.

For a fraction of second, she felt her own golden blood running out but then she tried to calm herself down, her appearance as neutral as possible to not betray her inner growing turmoil.

"It's because of work. Exterminations have been such a bum in the butt I have extras now." She replied as Azrael made a sniffled up noise of understanding, his expression going on a small degree of sour.

"To be honest, I know you're like those librarians that have so many knowledge but still, I have no ideas how is your job and those exterminations are related."

Oh boy where does Uriel would even starts to answer that.

Because first thing first, not a lot of people weren't aware of that, not even her own siblings but Uriel is actually, indirectly in that case, member of the Heavenly council. There were no veiled explanations, she was the wisdom, the pillar or logics and techniques in some perspectives and, as much as it was overly frustrating how it was bright on the face that Sera was the one behind the exterminations therefore the main culprit, she needed to be neutral first and thus it was a necessity to provide concretes informations and notions about the yearly slaughter alongside with its participants, which are, in that case, exorcists...

... And that led to the second thing which was another whole problem: the case itself was a total mess. It was certain and official from now on that exterminations were illegal and weren't even supposed to work in the first place but that was EXACTLY the issue! How could Uriel even work on a registered crime case when it has no written traces and registered laws concerning it and even less files! And THAT was infuriated Uriel the most because in juridical way of speaking, that meant that exterminations had nothing in it aside the exorcists?? No registered informations or official connotations, it couldn't just be that easy.

And let's not even talk about the exorcists themselves who, most of them, doesn't even have any assurances and official identities in Heaven.

And for informations as well, the victims or the one who were involved in the case are only citizens from Hell and if it was for Heaven's case, it was the one who were put on the trial which wasn't... The best thing.

And the only person the archangel could think of was Emily which was also not... The best thing. And no. She won't elaborate.

Oh and Adam too. He was already a whole problem by himself and now that he died, the problem got worse...

"... There are reasons why it's linked. Trust me." Uriel decided to put simply in the end, not feeling ready to dump all the reasons and whatnot to her sibling as she went back to her files.

The virtue of patience frowned slightly at their sister's response, knowing easily that Uriel actually had the answers, she always had them, but just didn't felt to talk about it.

But nonetheless, he respected Uriel's choices of words, as long as she didn't tried to hide bigger and darker secrets nor crucial informations that risked to be compromise in the current situation, as he sighed slightly in small content before he finally got up, ruffling his wings slightly.

The feminine archangel bit his lips, knowing her brother would leave her be again... But a sudden question that made her froze in mixed emotions was itching her as she decided to impulsively ask it out loud.

"Do you think he received our letters?"

The temperature of the room suddenly dropped as Azrael himself felt a weight dropping all the way down to his throat and stomach, as he only stood, immobile, his back turned to Uriel as his mind tried to process the following words.

After what felt an eternity, frozen in time, he spoke up, his tone almost betraying his doubtfulness.

"He's the king of Hell now, Uriel. Pretty sure he is busy with his duties."

It wasn't the best response to it obviously and Uriel didn't even seemed that convinced with his words as she muttered something under her breath but, knowing it would go if he added anything else, the angel of death let out a quick goodbye as he disappeared in a black mist.

Uriel only hummed, going back into putting her nose in the numerous papers and written laws.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Lucifer didn't knew if he was just woke up from a nap or coming back from the deads.

In either way, he felt as if he got ran by a truck three times before being crushed to death by five elephants. To say the least.

And it's very precise I know.

In either way, to summarize it up, Lucifer really felt like shit almost like the first time he died.

Which was agonizing mind you. Unfortunately for him, it was not a quick painless death but the exact opposite: slow, full of agonies, emotions now blurry and mixed with the blood that kept pouring out of his own body, his heart ripped off his chest and destroyed until it was just pieces and shreds of flesh as he was forced to watch it.

A bit gruesome he had to admit.

And now he felt as if the sensations of his first time were coming back to haunt him. Or probably they just want him to go back through all of this again. Who knows.

Unfortunately for his miserable and pathetic life, Lucifer had already planned activities and his day and therefore, as much as he has gotten familiar with it, he was busy.

Like trying to fucking get up for example.

In the end, after what felt like countless attempts, the king let out a groan of frustration and tiredness, clearly feeling that today will be those days where his body and mind wouldn't cooperate.

"Oh for the love of-"

He rubbed his face with his wobbly hand before lazily snapping his fingers for... Well he didn't knew what was actually the reason on why he should even use his magic.

Well. Might as well just use it for everything.

After he felt somewhat satisfied with his wishes, he finally snapped his fingers before he got engulfed in a red and golden mist as it dissipated after a while, leaving him now in a new pristine usual white and red suit and hat, as he got up and stretch himself, putting on his best shiniest smile as he only readjusted his clothes.

NOW he was ready!

Wait. There was one thing left.

Lucifer frowned when he remembered it as pulled out one his drawer and pulled out a small bottle of medicines, filled with pills whose names were "HaPpY pIlLs"

The devil couldn't help but glare intensely at it but he knew he needed them to at least function like a normal person even if the name was so disgusting.

Reculantly, he poured almost an handful of those medicines in his hand, admiring their horrendous glory before chugging all of them down in one go.

Father above that tasted horrible just like always.

After he felt ready and not forgetting anything, he took another breath before teleporting himself to the hotel, this time taking longer than usual.

But he didn't cared.

"Hello everyon-!!" Lucifer didn't had time to fully finish his dramatic entrance that he felt a bone crushing bear hug encasing him as he lightly choked out.

"Augh-! W-wh-??"

"Fucking thank God dad you're finally here!" Charlie's worried voice rang out as she then gripped her father's shoulders, extreme care and concern written all over her face. "Are you okay?? What happened?? You didn't responded to my texts!"

As the nephilim continued to list all of her unanswered questions, Lucifer couldn't help but slowly frog blinking in incompréhension. Why on earth was she worried about him? Did his not so discreet exit really scared the life out of his daughter?

"C-charlie I'm fine! See? You don't have to worry about me dramatically leaving this morning." He said, chuckling awkwardly, trying to run off the uncomfortable atmosphere.

Unfortunately for the short king, it only got worse when the rest of the hotel's residents looked at each other, all mixed emotions at his propos while even Alastor seemed to frown slightly despite his wide grin.

Lucifer's stomach dropped as he tried to fix whatever he tried to say. "Y-you know when I disappeared like poof! Gone in a smoke h-hehe-"

"Dad?"

"Yescharlie-?"

The hotel's owner looked at her father, mildly concerned and conflicted if she actually should address the elephant in the room. But then, in the end, it was probably for the best.

"Yo- you were gone for 6 months- that sudden disappearance it was months ago-"

At the aveu, Lucifer's face became livid as he almost let go of his apple cane.

Ah. So that's why something fell off when he arrived, a few things a few changed.

Yeah. A few.

"Hahha-! Uh-" the king tried to laugh off but it was obvious he was pushing it before he immediately added, as if his words would compensate his unexplainable absence. "W-well you know Char-! Being the king and all that stuff-!" He made some intelligible noises before he straighten up his back all of the sudden. "Anyway! It's fine like I've said before! Completely okay! So Uh- what was-" he curses himself mentally for being such a fool in front of sinners. "What was the thing that you were trying to say Charlie-?"

At first, the concerned one didn't responded and Lucifer was fearing that she would still insist on his unresponsiveness but then she composed herself (she was way better at it, unlike him) as she also smiled back, except her own as was not as strained as his.

She knew how to keep her blood cold.

Once again. Unlike him.

"Oh well actually I wanted your opinion if you wanted to do a specific trust exercise? For- you know- knowing the rest of our residents-?"

Once more, the suggestion went through the sin's head and it tooks a short moment surprisingly to process it before he grinned at his daughter, pushing his doubts as he tried his best to answer with the happiest tone he could muster.

"Oh of course! Why not Charlie?? After all, I really want to see your friends!" He said enthusiastically much to Charlie's relief as she dragged her father to the rest of the hotel's lobby where fortunately, everyone was just minding their own business, except a certain radio demon who stared at the king with disdain and suspicion.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

They still haven't found Samael yet. How??? He was literally not moving for a long time and when they were about to find him he was just gone!

It wasn't fair!

But oh well. The good news is that they finally knew how to track Samael without getting caught physically and therefore it was just a bonus point for them.

Obviously they won't give up. Absolutely not! Not right when they were so close.

Oh Samael really didn't had to worry. They would catch him soon. After all, it's their little Morningstar! And they would anything for him!

A̴̚͟n̸̬̓y̵̦͆t̷̹͒h̵̬͋i̷̖͊n̴͇͌ḡ̴͇.̵̫̇

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Archive of our own version

#hazbin hotel au #Hazbin Hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie morningstar #charlie magne #hazbin hotel vaggie #radioapple #appleradio #duckiedeer #deerduck #chaggie #fallenstar

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somefanchick · 1 year ago

Text

The Ring of the Sun Walker

(I got this idea from @ lillewitch on Tiktok. The equipment is Dnd Homebrew found on the DND Wiki. No real spoilers, but it takes place after the events of BG3. This is a Gender neutral romanic fic. Enjoy!)

Astarion was scared to say the least. His partner had been sneaking off during the day. They had been hiding it from him and hadn’t said a word about it to him. His partner had also been getting letters that Astarion hadn’t been shown the contents off. If it wasn’t for all the circumstances that made their relationship and their own backstories, then he wouldn't have been worried.

However, being as Tav had almost completely given up the sun in favor of being with him, he was definitely worried. He began to worry that Tav had possibly found someone who was better for them. Someone who could be in the sun with them. Someone who didn’t have to feed on blood. Someone who could be intimate with them without the chance of a sudden flashback to brothel visits for Cazador. Someone who could show Tav the love that they really deserved without reservations.

Of course those anxieties filled Asatrion’s mind as he sat in the common room of the house that Tav and him called home. He got up early to confront his partner, who wasn’t in bed as expected, as they came home from whatever escapade that had stolen their days.

When Tav opened the door the first thing Astarion – or anyone with eyes – noticed was how tired Tav looked. It was clear that they weren’t getting any sleep. That was the biggest sign that Tav was leaving in the night. Eye bags under their eyes, sluggish movement, and fluttering eyelids. It was terrifying for the vampire. It was like a physical reminder that he was losing Tav.

“Astarion!” Tav’s eyes snapped open at the sight of their lover sitting in the room with the thick curtains closed, “You’re awake. That’s great! I was just-” they took an instant to come up with an excuse, “going to market before closing to get food for dinner. We can’t rely on Gale’s cooking anymore.”

“But you didn’t come back with any bags,” Astarion stood, “And the market closed three hours ago. It’s Sunday.”

“Right,” Tav had wide eyes, but that didn’t deter them from trying to come up with an excuse that didn’t reveal the truth, “Well I came back from the market hours ago, but I wanted to take a walk. So I was walking.”

“Don’t lie to me Tav,” Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose, “You can’t have just been going for walks everyday for the past few months.”

“Oh,” Tav reached in their pocket to the surprise that was hidden, “Look it’s not what you think.”

“I want you to be honest with me,” Astarion closed his eyes, “You can tell me if you no longer want to be with me.”

“What!?” Tav freaked out, “That is not what is happening.”

“What else could it be?” He walked away from his lover, peeking through the curtains to see that night had struck, “I have taken so much from you these past two years. It only makes sense that you would look for someone better.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve had to give up everything for me,” He opened the curtains to let in the moonlight, “The sun, some of your blood, and so much more,” He sat back down on the chair from before, “And I knew the end would come, eventually.”

“Astarion, that is not what this is,” Tav made their way over to their vampire lover and immediately straddled his legs in order to keep him in place, “You are so wrong.”

“No I’m not,” He tried to avoid eye contact, but his partner’s position kept him from avoiding the person he loved.

“Yes you are. In a lot of your statements. Like first,” Tav pulled the small box from their pocket, “it’s almost three years since we got together. And this was going to be your gift. But I guess this situation calls for me to give it to you early.”

Tav opened the box to present the ring inside to their boyfriend. It was an iron band with a small blood red gem and a carved sun design. The vampire’s eyes lit up at the sight.

“What is-?”

Tav slowly took the ring out of the box, “It’s an ancient ring. They’re super rare and most of them have been lost to ruins in the woods of Faerûn. It took me a few months to find one, even with Gale and Rolan’s help researching, as well as some help from Isobel and Dame Aylin to try and find it in the wilds. It’s called-”

“The Ring of the Sun-Walker,” Astarion’s eyes were wide as they fixated on the ring, “It allows for Vampires to walk in the sun. How-?”

Tav slid off the vampire and got on one knee in front of the chair, “Will you marry me Astarion?”

Small tears formed in Astarion's eyes, “Marry you?”

“Yeah,” Tav stood at the same time as their lover, “I want to marry you. And I wanted to give you the sun again. So,” they motioned to the ring, “two birds, one ring.”

Astarion slowly smiled, “My dear,” He pulled Tav into a long kiss.

Tav managed to slip the ring onto him during the kiss. The two of them would be married soon. A wedding in the sun, both of them glazed in the golden sun. Both of them loved.

#astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #tav #baldurs gate tav #baldurs gate 3 #baulders gate 3 #tav x astarion #tav bg3 #tav baldur's gate #tav romance

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queenoftheworldisdead · 4 years ago

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Unbetrothed

Summary: Let me just say I am an American with no idea of how royal hierarchies work. Just made something up.

Governors are basically kings of the states they run with their own armies and mayors are dukes. Women are not allowed to work, only marry.

Dark MCU royal AU [but not really grey at best]

Sam Wilson x reader, dark Thor x reader [not really i don’t think. more like grey Thor]

Warning: attempted suicide, sex

----

"She's old Margret" your father huffed.

"Dear no I think you're being harsh" your mother defended.

You sat in the kitchen peeling potatoes for tonight’s dinner as you listened to him complain.

"I most certainly am not! She is old. Way past her prime. Am I supposed to work myself to death to support her?" He grumbled.

"Her brothers have long sense left this house. Started families of their own. Making their own way about the world."

"Dear they are men. Made to labor. What would you have her do? You refused her education. She has little options"

Women were with few exception not allowed to work. If you were not aiming to be a nurse, maid, or teacher. Most girls stopped their education after they learned to read or their parents stopped paying for tuition.

"Well, I would have assumed she would have been long sense married by now. What would be the point in wasting the money on education?"

He would often complain after doing his monthly expenses. Paying for the loan on the house, paying to feed himself and his wife, but the extra cost of the spare mouth of a daughter drove him up the wall. He actually calculated how much extra money he would have if you were not there draining his savings. As if it would by him a cottage on a beach in the state.

A popper he was not but a frugal bastard he was indeed. Only spending extra if he could come out ahead in the end.

It was like this most days, the only time it wasn't were when your father stayed out to drink. Pouring his sorrows into a pint and from your mothers presumption whores.

"Joseph, from work, told me that the Governor's having a ball. Says that his son told him that they send all the army boys there, most bachelors the lot of them. You know those army folks are quick to wed." He told your mother. He had planned this out thoroughly it would seem. "Lets put some lipstick on this pig and send her off"

"She is not a cow you sell at market!" Your mother was outraged out the notion.

"Well Moo Moo Margret. She is going. If she doesn't find a suitor then she is out on the streets. Have the state worry for her."

"Dear you cant mean that. She is our blood." Your mother would do nothing more than speak of her disapproval.

"It's my mother's fault." He said as he walked to his favorite sitting chair. "She was a bit misshapen. Got her damn jeans from me. Swear if she didn't look like her I would deny her my name" your mother gasped loudly at the insult.

"She tried to marry the Wilson boy and you denied her! Now look at him, second in command of the states army."

"Well, I thought when she...uh" he paused to find the right word to say. "Bloomed she would bring better prospects."

When you were 14 you fell in love with Sam Wilson and he with you. Children of the same age, same culture and you two had become fast friends. He had always made you laugh and it was not uncommon to be betrothed at such a young age.

One day while playing by the creek he had pushed you against the old oak tree and kissed you. So innocent and sweet, but it only lasted a fraction of a second. You had stared at him with your eyes wide with shock and surprise.

"Y/N I love you. Marry me?" He had no ring just a wild daffodil half ruined from being hid within his pants pocket. You had hugged him so tight he teased that you almost broke his bones. You had loved him for ages and to have your best friend love you back was truly a delight any girl could ask for.

The day felt like a dream as you two lay in the field and talked of your future. How many children, where the house should be, what the wedding would be like. You hadn't even noticed that the sun was setting as the euphoria of your love took over.

Kissing him on the cheek with a promise to meet again tomorrow you rushed home. With a smile that would not falter.

"Mom! Mom!" You burst through the door.

"What is it girl? You're so loud. What is it?"

"Sam! He asked me to be his wife!" Barely able to catch your breath as you retell the events.

Your mother's sweet smile showed of her approval in the union. The excitement of telling your father made the hands on the clock drag. When you saw the cart finally drop him off you exploded through the door and rushed to tell him your joyous news.

But your joy was short lived. Sam's family was not the status that he wanted for you. He gambled that when you were to hit puberty you would attract hire quality suitors. To hedged his bets he pulled you from school and refused you out to see Sam.

The decision crushing you completely, your home had become your prison for over a decade. Only allowing out into the world to join your mother for her weekly shopping.

He broke you back then and thought nothing of it. Unmoved by your constant tears and sorrow. Eventually you cared not for the fancy things in life. Your hair unkept, your clothes unpressed and makeup was as foreign to you as the neighboring states. Your mother would often scold you for not putting out your best as to catch the eyes of a suitor. But what was the point?

You lived only in the fading memories of Sam. Replaying ways to have made things different. Your mother took pity allowing you stationary upon which to write. Sending him love letters, but sadly with no replies.

"Well I buying her a ticket to the governors ball. We have enough for a decent enough dress so get her ready." Plopping down he opened his smoking box to take out his pipe. Lighting it up with long puff signaling to your mother that the final word had been spoken.

Your mother with your fathers pocket book went all out. When he saw the receipts he almost had a stroke. He swore never again to make that mistake with your mother again.

Your hair, makeup and dress were all done for the affair. When she showed you the results in the mirror before you left with your father you swore someone had bewitched the mirror.

When you two arrived at the Governors estate your father pushed you to mingle. But you had not the heart for music and fun. Walking aimlessly about the crowded event until you spotted him.

It couldn't be could it?

Walking up to the man you presumed to be your long lost love you call out.

"Sam?"

It was him, adorn in his formal military uniform.

"Y/N?"

Your heart felt like it beat for the first time in ages. Swelling with joy tears almost fell from your eyes at the sight of your long lost love.

You hugged him instantly, but it took a moment before his arms reciprocated the gesture.

"I always wondered what happened to you. I even went to your house but I was always turned away"

"It was all my fathers doing. Did you receive my letters? My mother made sure to mail them daily, but I never got word back."

Even through your despair you had never stopped writing. Everyday even when your mind tried to insert logic you still wrote. You could barely spell and your mother was of no use in that matter, but that did not stop you.

"What letters?" He was at a loss and that is when your heart began to hurt a little at the betrayal of you're only ally.

Every shopping day your mother would buy you the most gorgeous letter paper to write to him with, only to never send them. But why?

"I wrote to you every day Sam I swear it" you were in denial. She wouldn't have done that. No never her. Not your mother.

"Honey who is this?" A beautiful woman appeared from his side.

"This is an old friend. Wanda this is Y/N"

She was so striking and much younger than you. "Oh hello he talks much about his youth here in this state, but I'm sorry I don't recall you." You could see her trying to recall a memory and even with the scrunch of her brow she was a sight.

What would you say to her? That you were his first love, first kiss, that he had proposed to you. That you still had the daffodil he gave. Now pressed in the holy book on the page that would have held your vows.

"I.." You looked at him. His smile was for her now. You were nothing, but a ghost playing among the living. "I went to school with him when I was much younger, but never completed." She smiled at you so pure and overflowing with love for him that it made you sick, but you forced yourself to mirror her.

"Well it was nice meeting you, Y/N.." She said through the loud music."but if you will excuse me I would love to dance with my fiancé." Pulling him away. As they departed what was left of your heart felt as if it had rolled in glass.

Every breath brought a pain and as your vision began to blur you saw your father approached with that look. That look that you had not the energy to deal with. So you took off. Walking swiftly through the crowded ballroom zigging and zagging not knowing where to go. You were boiling over, but you didn't want the world to see. For Sam to see.

As you scanned the massive room filled with people you spot a staircase that wrapped along the wall. You don't know why you went to it, but you did. Ascending the stairs as quickly as you could in your full dress. Tripping only twice on the petty coat underneath, but still able to stand up right. There were fewer people on this level, each in their own conversation of this or that. Taking a deep breath you decide to turn left. Passing awkwardly by the smaller groups of people before stopping at the door at the end of the hall.

The massive wooden door was unlocked when you tried the handle. Pushing it open you could see no lights. Entering the darkness of the room, the blackness poured over you then the tears fall before you could close it behind you. With your back pressed to it you slid down the door and on to the floor. The sound of the booming music from the band hiding you're sobbing from the world.

As you cried you felt the cold breeze of the night prickle your skin. Looking you see the sheer curtain dance in the wind the color of the moon light giving it a soft ghostly hue. Standing up you walked to it. Opening the curtain you found the window to actually be a small balcony.

Walking out to the banister at the end you stare up at the moon and the sight of it filled you with loneliness. A small part of you had held out hope that Sam still loved you, would come for you and you two would live out those childhood wishes from long ago. But he wasn't and your father would surely be tossing you out by the morrow.

You didn't know how, but somehow you had climbed over the railing. Staring at the earth below.

What was the point? You couldn't work, too old to marry. Born to be nothing.

"You shouldn't be here." A voice came out from behind the ghostly veil.

Turning your head you look back to see, but when you spotted him you only stared through him.

Holding on to the steel frame of the balcony you lean forward. Hoping that when you fall and kiss the ground that the pain would be swift. So you let go.

"No you don't"

He was fast. Catching your wrist before you descended. Looking up at him you could see him clearly now. The strain on his face had his veins busting through his flesh as he pulls you back up and over the banister.

He had pulled you so hard that he lost balance and landed on the floor with you on top of him.

Pushing yourself off his chest you straddled him. Your dress almost swallowing him whole. When he sat up he rubbed the back of his head and hissed. As he straightened himself, his height could not be ignored.

"Are you mad wo.." His words were cut off by the crashing of your lips to his. You just pressed them hard into his, your eyes shut tight as your fingers clasped the fabric of his formal uniform.

His hands came on to your shoulders and pushed you back. "They had told me these events were to be a prudish affair. Had I known women of this state were made of fire we would have united our states long ago." His strange accent had you gawking at him.

Your eyes fell to his uniform, the colors were all wrong. It was not of your state's formal wear, but anothers.

He kissed you this time, his tongue tickled your bottom lip the sudden wetness of it made you gasp and he took that opportunity to invade. Yours sat frozen in your mouth bewildered by the intrusion.

When his hands fell on your hip you yelped in his mouth. "Move for me" he said as his hands guided you back and forth on his lap. The friction of his pants on your bloomers was delightful. Moaning in his mouth your eyes shot open wide. Embarrassed by the foreign noise, but the man only chuckled on your lips.

Your hands released his clothes and wrapped around his neck. When he bit your bottom lip you bit his, when his tongue flicked yours you flicked his in turn. You let him guide you to every move. His hands fell from your hip, but you still kept the pace as the warm fuzziness of the feeling building in your core wanted more.

Placing his arms on your back he pushed you backwards on to the cold balcony floor while never breaking his kiss. Your heart beat hard in your chest as you felt him press you into the unforgiving floor with your dress the only bit of comfort to it.

He pulled away again making you whimper. His smile looked so devilish as he stared down at you. "Your pure aren't you girl."

Your ears felt hot as his eyes looked upon you. "Yes" it came out almost as a whisper.

He bit his lip almost fighting off a bigger grin. Moving his hands from your back one hand glided atop your dress. Grazing both breasts before hooking his in it. Pulling the fabric down allowing your breast to bounce free in the night air. His warm palm overtaking the circumference of one breast filling your body with more fire.

Bending down you closed your eyes to receive a kiss, but it never came. His wet mouth latched onto your exposed bosom, making you pant. The flicking of his tongue drove you mad with wanting. His soft lips kissed each breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth. "Your flesh is sweeter than any honey I've ever tasted." His rugged voice sent you soaring to the heavens.

Bunching up your dress his hand moved slowly up your thigh. Stopping at your bloomers. "What do you want little dove?" He looked down at you again. Waiting for your answer.

Was this what Sam does to Wanda?

For whatever reason your mind could not picture him this way. So your mind drifted, thinking of the women of the night. The women that lived for the night as you are now. Your mother had spoke often about loose women. Whores she would call them. Good for nothings seen as no more than the corrupters of men souls. That’s why she never blamed your father for his misdeeds. You wanted to be a corrupter of men, to hold a power over them. Seeing as giving them power had brought you no joy in this world.

"I want to be a whore" at your words his smile dropped and a hunger unfamiliar to you grew upon his face.

Hurriedly pulling your bloomers down you could hear a growl from him. As if by the moon he would change into a wolf right before your eyes. His focus strayed from you but for only a brief moment as he fiddled with his own attire.

He lay between your spread legs poking at your muff with a rod harder than the floor that ached your back. "Then my whore you shall be" without another word he forced himself into you.

The pain and discomfort had you screaming into the night. Pushing him off, but he held steadfast deep in you up to his hilt. Tears prickled your eyes as the pain felt unbearable. Lifting your legs onto his shoulder allowed him deeper still and you felt too full.

"Please sir it hurts" you hissed. Your eyes pleading up at him.

"Not for long my dove" His hips slammed against you with such forced that you tried to crawl backwards away. But with his hands on your shoulder he locked you in place. Each time his hips slapped yours it sent jolts throughout your body.

Your mewls mixing with his groans while the music played from the ball down stairs. "It hurts!" Your voice quakes as he continued his punishing thrust. Your breasts jerking harshly from his movements while your legs try and force him off, but he went on undeterred.

"My..dove.. sing for me" and you did with every thrust.

Your back arched off the unforgiving ground as you felt your cunt stretched beyond its limits to receive him. Your nails dragged along his coat sleeves, snagging on badges here and there.

The pain of him faded into a wave of ecstasy. "More please" you panted.

"Does..my..dove..love.. my..cock" he teased as he watched your face transform from pain to pleasure. Hitting your core harder with each word, moaning deeply as he filled you.

"Mmm so-so good." You moaned. The pressure from him electrified your whole body. You could feel every inch of him and you wanted more.

"A whore..only for...me" he groaned. His chest pressed into your legs as his movements grew wilder. Your body felt a buzz, your flower so alive, clenching feverishly around him. His member started twitching, flexing inside of you and filling you with more warmth and wetness.

"Such a good little dove" he praised.

When he stopped he gave your lips one last kiss before falling over to your side. Your legs flopped to the floor landing with a thud shaking like a leaf in the wind. Turning your head to him, you examined the glistening features of his face.

"Who are you?" You panted out half exhausted.

As he began to speak the door creaked open in the distance.

"Y/N!" Your fathers voice shouted out. You sat up with a cold splash of reality hitting you.

When your father came into the room he had only seen the aftermath. A compromising position that sent him into a tizzy. Racing over to you he grabbed your for arm pulling you from your savior.

Pulling up your top and cleaning off your dress you prayed he had not noticed your very bare chest in the confusion.

"What are you doing who is that?" He roared furiously. "Speak"

*Smack

His slap faded into the nights air. He must be getting older, much more older than you thought him to be. His strikes barely fazed you now, but you held your face as if it still held the same power as they used to have.

"What were you thinking you stupid girl? Your chastity is you're only saving grace." He was furious. "I can't believe my own daughter a whore."

"Ah heeeehhhmmmm" the stranger cleared his throat behind you. His height towering over you and your father.

"Excuse me sir, but in my state we do not take Kindly to the striking of innocent women."

"And who are you to speak to me in such a ways army boy?"

"I'm lieutenant Governor Thor Odinson of the Asgardian state. New allies of your Governor's state."

Your father's eyes widened in shock as did yours.

"We were just admiring the constellations as we are ought to do in my state. Isn't that right milady?"

Your father looked to you to answer while Thor shot you a knowing wink.

"Well if you would excuse her intrusion sir, but she is supposed to be finding a suitor not laying about star gazing" he spoke nervously.

Pulling you out of the room by your arm as Thor faded into the darkness.

"What happened to your face girl you look a sight?" He said annoyed. "Go to the mirror and fix yourself" he pointed to a mirror along the wall right before the entrance to the room. "Had someone else spotted you, you would have been thought a harlot for sure" he huffed.

Hurrying away you rush to the mirror all the while you felt Thor's seed snake down your leg.

#sam x reader #dark thor x reader #black writer

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lawrising-a · 3 years ago

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( continued from here! // @pseudoneiric )

there's a sore sensation nestling against the sensitive skin of his wrist -- not rubbed raw, exactly, considering his tie is too silky to achieve such a feat ( and he, desperately, tried to move as little as possible ) but it still stings. a chiding reminder of what he allowed to happen not even minutes ago. yellow wrapped around him, completely bound and helpless ... it was something he can't say he's done before, not like that. he thinks the correct term would be bondage, but was it? gloved hands sinking beneath layers of flesh to expose the fluttering organs beneath, and expose her own in turn. call him crazy, but that's not what he thought bondage was about. but when was anything with lilian it's textbook definition? he can't blame anyone for his display of vulnerability except himself, completely ensnared with the girl the moment they crossed paths. there were times he watered down his attraction, for both their sakes, blaming her allure for his enchantment. yet lies come clean eventually and here he now perches. the edge of his mused bed, chest rising and falling more then it should as he burns with the black markings drifted upon his ivory skin. lipstick marks painting him in a light he's not used to. he's been stripped of all his warm tones and fake boy scout personas ; left in cool colors. green pants and black marks.

‘and what are you ... the sun?’ whispered a voice earlier, like every hushed word was a secret reserved between the two of them. mat rolls his shoulders, because he doesn't feel that way anymore. never has, honestly. he wants to be beaming lights with a killer gravitational pull, but he ... isn't. the colors on him now is a striking reminder of that : yet he replays lilian's maddening words and fools himself briefly. it's okay to believe lies when she's the one feeding them! as long as she believes it, why can't he humor it? everything she said had been a warped view, a funhouse mirror at those shifty carnivals -- but it was raw honesty from lilian, and he can't turn away the swell of attention. even if he should, even if mat should waltz into the bathroom where she's currently shrouding herself away and spill out the truth. let her know he isn't some angelic force but rather a mockery of one. how matthew naively hopes he can be hers regardless of his lack of good ... it's dizzying, causing his vision to blur, because it's been a while since he's confronted this about himself. the student doesn't like it. but oh, he loves her -- a burning sensation that lights his veins aflame and races his heart.

distractingly, he presses the pad of his rough thumb against the mark on the corner of his lips. a replica of a kiss she once bestowed upon him like salvation itself ( hm, what's with the spur of religious imagery today? hah ). trying to prod away the disappointment that rises every time he feels the wishful want of her actual lips there instead. she has to -- she has to feel something for him at this point, right? that can't be an assumption anymore, can it? questions whirl around as his fingers ghost down his ruined skin, tracing over the words left with his own hands like confirmation. like he's silently saying 'yes, property of lilian eyler.' like he's finally allowing himself a love he thought he wouldn't ever have when he traces, ‘mine. mine. mine-’ that ends with him working his way back up, away from the bulge of his stomach and trembling arms -- away from 'poetry, life, religion' and back to his lips. where he's reminded, with a fuzzy feeling balling up in his chest, 'mine.' almost pushing hard enough to slip a finger through his pink lips, plush and ready for ... mat isn't sure. he just wants her to kiss him there. though he knows she won't, least not today. and even if there's this sickening greed that controls him with a talent, he lets her have that. lets her take all her time in the bathroom and tries not to beg for more. how did she elegantly put in, in all her poetic prose that he's seen briefly in the club? a loyal dog? just for you now, only ever for you, lili--

a shiver rocks his form, startling his hands to the edge of the bed to tear into as he digs his heels into the carpet ( like he once had in the bed, to ground himself, to not buck ). was his pulse racing with the life she declared to adore so much? the man sinks canines into his cheek to hold back from beckoning her out to check. no, no ; he said he'd leave her be. it's a good thing for them both right now. if she had stayed and let the fabric obscuring his view fall from his eyes, he would've reached for her. try to pull them close and he'd ramble like a mad man ... wouldn't he have scared her? some part of him thinks he still has. which wobbles his posture in order to keep his head bowed, like awaiting punishment. almost waiting for pain building in his scalp, because surely she'd card her delicate laced fingers through his hair with a bit more force if she came back out. or was that his gentle throb of arousal wanting that? she got him worked up so easily ; ah, well, at least it's a good exercise for his thinning self control ...

a sigh, shaky and human, whistles out of parted lips. dry due to the fact he can't lick them thanks to the lipstick, though he can't help but wonder if he did -- would he be licking lilian's lips that way? the material touched them ... realizing how wild he is, a thoroughly teased animal, matthew laughs nervously. jesus christ, there's parts of him strewn all around his bedroom, because there's no way mat is fully put together. his brain feels like soupy liquid dripping from his ears and hissing into his scarlet skin. a puzzle of a man that lilian expertly took apart and left half completed. no matter how hard he tries to reel himself in, chase away all the sweetened morbidness delivered, he can't find all the pieces. surely, the clever girl took some with her to the bathroom. she was ... possessive. mat learned that just now. possessive over him, envious of basic things that matthew almost couldn't believe. she'll never know how comforting it was to see. a feeling now nestled happily within because nobody's been possessive of him before! she mustn't of gotten the memo from former friends, didn't hear how expendable he was to everyone who's known him. people don't get jealous for matthew, they don't care how much he sleeps, they don't care if he isolates away -- and they certainly don't care if his eyes linger on a girl with purple hair.

because who would find him special? he's an emotional wreck everyone stays weary of, a boy to eye with skepticism. his jealousy, his rawness, his obsessive love and need is wrong and ugly. you're shunned for those things by society. to the world, mat is anything but special, he's wrong ; so wrong and he's relentlessly tried to change that. but lilian ... she thinks otherwise. feels like he feels. sensitive and lovesick. and while he's always tried to hide before, if the girl with inky hair thinks it's beautiful and radiant ... everyone else must be wrong, because lilian eyler never is! as clever as the devil and twice as pretty, so the saying goes. with a rueful smile, too boyish and gentle for his own sharp face, he thinks it's an accurate fit for his favorite person ever. his throbbing molten core of earth, the darkened reflective surface of his beloved moon.

“im excited about lunch tomorrow, you know?” calls mat, voice as rough as ever ; like he uses it too much. but during this whole date, he fears he hasn't used it enough. “i haven't eaten with another person in a while. i usually just grab an apple and loiter around the library.” did you think i ate with yuri? though the fawn haired male doesn't ask, he quickly kills that assumption if it festered in lilian's mind. “if it goes well, we could ... ah, why don't we eat together from then on? maybe everyday? maybe forever! i think it'd be ... nice.”

the last part is so quiet he's not sure she hears it, but maybe she hears it die off. senses his shyness that bares him like it's her own. matthew doesn't want to dwell in it, so he tries to push forward. telling himself to keep tearing down the walls until there's nothing left ( the bathroom walls or his own? ). she deserves to hear more then his sputters from their little session, brought on by gutting arousal and his own jittery sparks : she deserves the world on an obsidian platter. to know he does want to be owned by her, to understand he'd be so comfortable displaying that label for all to see. and for lilian to be told, sternly, that he'd choose her out of a line up with certainty most would be scared of. love isn't half way for him, ever, and lilian needs to know that. even if his heart thunders and he wants to hear more of her disarming voice instead.

“and i want to be yours ; your idea with the whole 'blindly leading me around' wasn't half bad!” heartfelt chuckling makes him feel like he's vibrating out of his skin, her skin now, isn't it? “i'd let you blind me, i'd let you led me even if i was deaf and mute. you could be all my senses, because maybe then i'd trust them more. you don't know how much i wish these words on me were permanent, lilian --” mat twists his mouth, ruins his hair more. “darling, you just ... i've tried so hard to be normal this year, more then any other, yet you make me so helpless! it's ... how do you do that? do you know how special you are, how beautiful? perfect ... well, perhaps not that ; because you're stupid for worrying about not owning me. isn't it obvious you already do? were these reminders for me, or wishes for you?"

( eyes flutter to words he can barely read on his bared parts, words overlapping due to frenzy. all true. all true )

with a tightening throat, emotions rising like waves and god he could just drown, matthew lays back on the mattress. meekly pulling the tie out from under him, only to drag it over his used wrists. picturing only her. wondering if this sight would entice her to keep going when she comes out. and he wants to say lilian, you've won! congratulations on having a lover for life! or, something like : yuri couldn't pry me from your cold dead fingers! but what stumbles out is something foolish that he immediately grimaces over. hopefully she's too shaken to judge him too much.

“i think you're my soulmate, lilian. i .. really do.” so why would i ever let you go? or deem you unworthy? it's me, im unworthy. not you, never never -- his lashes tickle his skin when he shuts his eyes. breath hitching before evening out. reminding himself to calm down because matthew thinks he'll actually explode otherwise. a bundle of nerves, of her love, is all he really is.

#» death risen ( thread. )#lilian♡matty » i understand what love never could . i forgive what love never would ( pseudoneiric )#v.ddlc ★ and the boy who loves you the wrong way keeps weakening #pseudoneiric #tw suggestive #( okay so. i think this pales in comparison to your amazing answered ask. like pales so hard )#( but i hope this was a delight to read regardless !! )#( thought it was time to reply to this. a lil warm up gift for lilian's bday <3 )#( have some matty being lovestruck and a bpdcore mess for an entire response! )#( and oh! hope its alright lilian was like. in the bathroom. she seemed shaken from being so open that i thought she'd need a breather )#( if thats dumb im sorry </3 )#( ANYWAY hope this was good ik i said i wouldnt write but i lied. its lilian day )

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dabis-devil · 5 years ago

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Nothing Breaks Like a Heart. დ

-; ♡.° [ A/N: ] ୭̥ Okay so this idea just popped into my head and I couldn't not write it. This is my first fic and I really hope it doesn't blow over, let's hope for the best, loves! If Dabi ain't Touya, I'm gonna be a real fool, huh?

-; ♡.° [ Warnings: ] ୭̥ Gn!reader, Swearing, Suggestive content, sO mUcH aNgsT

-; ♡.° [ Summary: ] ୭̥ Everybody knows the infamous villian Dabi, his name spreads fear across the streets of Japan. Many would hate to admit it, but he wasn't always cold and alienated. It all bubbles down to one girl, who left his heart in shambles.

-; ♡.° [ Tag list: ] ୭̥ birthday girl! @queensynderella (👾 here)

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

It was a brisk Friday night, cool air hitting Touya's pale skin. Bandages clothed his forearms, which seemed to be more burnt every time the redhead came to see y/n. These burns inflicted by his quirk hadn't yet damaged his skin to the point of no repair, but it most definitely wasn't perfect. His large hands fumbled with the clasp of the gate to his home, Touya found himself sneaking out to see y/n more often than not. Enji claimed he was hitting the rebellious stage of his adolescence, little did he know that this would become his son's day to day life.

Against his better judgement, Touya was nineteen and still living at home. He had no where else to go, and he had siblings to rescue from their nightmare of a father. He desperately wanted to take shouto from the unfair wrath of their old man, but he was unable to do so. Instead, he would sweep his brother up into a tight hug whenever he mustered the chance. That poor kid, getting tossed around and neglected. His heart went out to young Shouto.

Touya’s figure was clothed in a baggy black tank top with black jeans and a dark zip up hoodie paired with a pair of black boots (you can @ me on this, he was edgy before dabi became dabi). He had his signature nose studs and additional ear piercings at his time too. He was working on getting a job of his own, something to get him money and fast. After that he would move out, hopefully taking his siblings with him.

As of now, y/n is the only rabbit hole he has. The only escape from his everyday terrors. That's why he was walking alone on the streets around twelve a.m., counting down the very minutes until he could reach their address. The lit cigarette hanging from his lip left a trail of smoke in its midst, that could barely be seen even with the midnight glow. His steps were shallow and speedy, hellbent on getting over to y/n’s place. Seeing that beautiful face every night is what brought him joy, and made carrying on each morning that much easier.

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

Y/n was sprawled across their bed, carefree and unalert. Like most teens, they wouldn't go to sleep early. They had training tomorrow with the rest of class 4-A, but couldn't sleep. Not with the thoughts pooled in their head, that they sat to contemplate and overthink. Y/n grew distant to their dear boyfriend, Touya, and the guilt weighed a ton. Though the weight of what news you planned to share with him tonight is a million times heavier.

Y/n’s (e/c) eyes we're glued to their phone screen, set on a picture they had taken with Touya a few short weeks ago. A single tear rolled down their rosy cheeks. ' This is gonna break him. ' they thought. Y/n was pulled away from their thoughts when the glass window beside the desk gently rattled, a certain troubled redhead struggling to crawl through their window sill. Y/n frantically wiped their face before he got the opportunity to see a pinch of sadness in their expression- at least a pinch they didn't want him to notice. “ hey baby. . ” they smiled half heartedly, slipping from their cozy bedframe.

“ hey, princess, ” He smiled geekily. As Touya dusted off his jacket from the greenery and gunk that plagued the material, they pressed their plush lips to his. Truth be told they clung to him for a bit too long that night. In all fairness, this would be the last kiss they got from him.

As much as it pained y/n to do this, Touya Todoroki was bad for them.

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

A little while later, the night had taken y/n. Touya laid with his arms tightly wrapped around their frame, their head atop his clothed chest. He had been falling in and out of sleep as the television played a series- one of their favorites. Y/n on the other hand, couldn't get a wink of rest. Instead, their eyes burned with the sensation to hold back tears. Finally, one spilled over their eyelid. They scrambled to wipe the droplet of moisture away before it soaked through his shirt, not only failing but drawing extra attention to theirself. Touya’s turquoise eyes fluttered open, immediately drawn to y/n. He sat up, in turn pulling them up with him. The fingers of his right hand ended up under their chin, magnetizing his gaze to their own. “ doll, what's wrong? ” he cooed, eyebrows knitted at y/n’s profound sadness.

Y/n did everything in their power to keep their eyes peeled, the only working strategy was simply squeezing them shut. Y/n could no longer hold back the water works, the fluid boiled over and rolled down their pained face. Y/n didn't need eyes to see Touya’s small frown, they could feel it. “ T-Touya. . . ” their breath hitched in the back of their throat. “ we need to talk. ” Y/n’s voice was shakey, and this whole scene was quite frankly uncomfortable considering how out of touch Touya is with his emotions.

Y/n felt Touya stiffen underneath them, and opened their eyes to catch him staring. Turquoise eyes half lidded as usual. He is obviously concerned, one masculine hand rubbing circles into y/n’s back. He kept quiet, giving them the time they need to spit out their burden. “ I. . I can't do this anymore. I can't watch you kill yourself. ”

In more ways than one, Touya had proven destructive. Not only that, but he didn't care. The redheads loving embrace faded, instead it just seemed like a stranger was holding them close. Y/n didn't want to imagine how this made him feel, even worse about how he would pretend to feel. “ I- what? Whad’ya mean? ” Touya scrunched his nose in confusion. “ my quirk? ” the male asked. Sadly he missed the point, and this wouldn't be as simple as they hoped. Maybe he didn't want to accept the truth so soon.

Y/n’s shakey palm met the side of his face, sweeping along his sharp jaw. “ you get high all the time, you don't trust me, you've been so distant these last few weeks. . And when I try to check on you, I get shut down. ” a steady stream of tears now rolled down their cheek. “ I've been thinking about it for a while, Touya. . ” y/n’s choked up sobs filled the room, his silence wavering in their mind. Touya was trying to make sense of the situation, or come up with false feelings. It stung to know that he felt his emotions are invalid. “ I'm so sorry, I just. . I can't baby. ”

Touya was a sitting statue on your bed, his turquoise orbs glued to the sheets. The things you two have done. . The memories. . The plans for the future. . All swirling down the drain. “ I can stop. ” his voice distantly aching with sorrow. his head swiveled towards y/n, giving them all the attention he could. The poor boy was loosing it, just at the possibility of losing the one person that mattered most to him. His anchor

“ I've already tried to get you help. You wouldn't take it. ” y/n frowned softly. “ I can't believe that again. . ” though the last thing they wanted right now was to separate themselves from Touya in his time of need, it was far too much to bare. After all, you can't help someone that doesn't want to be helped.

Y/n slowly wiggled out of the redhead's embrace, instead sitting across from him and holding one bandaged hand within their own. Y/n was begging for him to say something, to say anything. Instead, they would gaze at a shell of what used to be Touya.

“ y/n, please- ” the scarred teen pleaded. His expression was something in a sea of despair, yet he couldn't quite express that. He couldn't cry. All he could do was sit across from y/n and hope they could forgive him, hope that he could fix his issues. His chest was heavy, each rise and fall more tense than the last. “ I'm sorry. . Let me fix this. Please. . ? ” frantic words jumbled, something that made y/n pull him into their arms, and rest his head in the crook of their neck. Droplets of clear water fell down their face, seeing him like this was unbearable. It had to be done.

Fingers combed through the boys spiky red hair, his rapid breathing slowed to a calm. Y/n pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “ I love you, but I can't do this anymore. ” their soft whispers were almost tranquil to Touya, despite the underlining meaning. This voice he cherished each night, he just had to hear it a bit more before he made his exit. “ don't forget that, okay? If you're better in the future, maybe we could try this again. ” they reassured, petting his silky locks.

Touya pulled away, head still hung. “ This is. . This is what you want? ” He looked upwards, turquoise orbs burning into y/n’s, hoping for the answer he expected to be wrong.

“ yeah, ” y/n answered under their breath, breaking the precious concentration on his beautiful eyes.

Touya rose from the bed, reaching for his leather jacket and pulling on his boots. Shortly after, heading for the window. The silence was more than just that, it was the lack of an idea on what to do here. Y/n decided to stand up as well, arms crossed over their chest. “ I- uh- ” he cleared his throat, tugging open the window. “ I'll see you around then. ” he managed to catch a last glimpse of the love of his life, before feeding his slim body out of the window. Tears fell from y/n’s face to the floor beneath them. As much as their fragile heart hurt right now, things would get better. It had to.

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

The second Touya’s boots hit the leaves beneath him, one foot sprung in front of the other. He found himself running away from y/n’s home, almost as if his life depended on it. He could barely walk, his head was spinning, chest was tight, and his dressed wounds began to ache. Yet his feet carried him away. He didn't want to go home, the thought of going back with no escape made his skin crawl. The moon above lit the teens path as he aimlessly ran.

The time escaped him, as he wound up on the bad side of town. Rumored to be crooks and thieves around every street corner, and worse beyond that. Fresh out of breath, Touya placed his hands on a wall to catch himself, knees buckling underneath the weight. He slid down the brick wall in the dimmed alleyway, scooping his knees up to his chest. He was alone, a bit scared, and heartbroken. His eyes fell shut, and his head rolled onto his knees. Before he knew it, Touya had passed out, with one thing on his mind: y/n.

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tayla11-blog1 · 6 years ago

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Not a joke, but with all the knife crime going on especially in London, I just had to share this!

A beautiful letter written by the actor Lennie James to a boy that carry a knife:

To whom it may concern,

My name is Lennie James. I am a 42 year-old father of three. I grew up in south-west London. I was brought up by a single mother. I was orphaned at 10, lived in a kids' home until I was 15 and was then fostered. I tell you this not to claim any special knowledge of how you've grown, but to explain how I have, and from where I draw my understanding.

I want to talk to you about the knife you're carrying in your belt or pocket or shoe. The one you got from your mum's kitchen or ordered online or robbed out of the camping shop. The knife you tell yourself you carry for protection, because you never know who else has got one.

I want to talk to you about what that knife will do for you. If you carry it, the chances are you will be called on to use it. It is a deadly weapon, so if you use it the chances are you will kill with it. So after you've killed with it, after you've seen how little force it takes for sharpened steel to puncture flesh. After your mates have run away from the boy you've left bleeding. When you're looking for somewhere to dash the blade, and lighter fluid to burn your clothes. When your blood is burning in your veins and your heart is beating out of your chest to where you want to puke or cry, but can't coz you're toughing it out for your boyz. When you are bang smack in the middle of 'Did you see that!' and 'Oh, Jesus Christ!' here's who to blame...

Blame the boy you just left for dead. Blame him for not believing you when you told him you were a bigger man than him. Blame him for not backing down when you made your chest broad, bounced into him and told him about your knife and how you would use it. Blame him for calling you on and making you prove yourself. Tell yourself if he had just freed up his phone or not cut his eyes at you like he did, he wouldn't be choking on his blood and crying for his mum.

Then blame your mum. When the police are banging down her door looking for you, or she hears the whispers behind the 'wall of silence', tell her it's all her fault for being worthless. Cuss her out for having kids when she was nothing but a kid herself, or for picking some drug or some man over you again and again. Even if she only had you and devoted herself to you, even if she is a great mum, blame her anyway. Blame her for not being around more to make sure you took the chances she was out working her fingers to the bone to give you.

When you're done with her, blame the man she picked to make you with. Blame him for being less than half the man he should have been. When he comes to bail you out and starts running you down for the terrible thing you've done, tell him straight: 'I did what I did coz you didn't do what you should have done.' Even if he did right; respected your mother, worked to provide for his family financially and spiritually, taught you right from wrong and drummed it home everyday... Even if he nurtured you as best he could, blame him for the generation of men he comes from.

The one that allowed an adolescent definition of manhood to become so dominant. The one that measures a man by how many babymothers he has wrangling his offspring, or by how 'bad' his reputation is on the streets of whatever couple of square miles he chooses to call his 'ends'.

Damn them for letting you believe that respect is to be found with gun in hand or knife in pocket. Damn them and everyone who feeds the myth of these gangsters, villains, thieves and hustlers. Anyone who makes them heroes while damning hard-working, educated, honest men as weak, sell-outs or pussies.

If you are black, blame white people for the history of indignities they heaped on you and yours. For the humiliation of having to go cap-in-hand or get down on bended knee or having to burn shit down before you are afforded something so basically fundamental as equality. If you are white, blame black folk and Muslims for taking all your excuses. Failing that, blame a class system that keeps you poor and ignorant so the 'uppers' and 'middles' can feel better about themselves.

You have good reason to blame them all. I wouldn't be you growing up now for love nor money. Your generation has so little room to manoeuvre. We had more space to step around the bullshit. We weren't excluded at the rate you lot are. Teachers hadn't given up or lost their authority over us. They still tried to protect and guide us even through our most disruptive years.

The police stopped and searched us, but we fought that right out of their hands - we hoped into extinction. But they want to bring back that abusive practice. They are still hooked on punishment rather than prevention. They seem ignorant to the fact that they are feeding you acceptance of an already prevalent gang mentality. As far as you can see, the police are not protecting and serving you, they are coming at you like just another street gang trying to boss your postcode.

When I was where you are now, generations of state agencies, social services, policy-makers and politicians had not abdicated all responsibility for me. We weren't left to our own devices like you have been. Is it any wonder that you end up expressing yourself in such a violently pathetic way?

We should be ashamed. I am. You have shamed us into a desperate need to do something about ourselves. We have collectively failed you and we should take all the blame that is ours for that... but so should you.

I blame you. I blame you because as a generation you are selfish, self-centred and have little or no empathy for anyone but yourselves. You are politically stunted and socially irresponsible and... you scare us. What scares us most is that you would rather die than learn. Your only salvation may be that still most of you aren't playing it out dirty. The vast majority of young men, even with all that is stacked against them, are finding their way around the crap. The boy you will kill, should you continue to carry that knife, almost certainly had the same collective failures testing him. He probably felt no less abandoned and no less scared. He also, almost certainly, wasn't carrying a knife.

Whatever it seems like, whatever you've read, whatever you tell yourself about protection being your reason, statistics show the life you take will be that of an unarmed person. That is what that knife will do for you. It will make you escalate a situation to where it is needed. It will give you a misguided sense of confidence. It will make you the aggressor. That knife will make you use it. It will bring you nothing worth having. There is no respect there. The street may give you some passing recognition, but any name you think you might make will soon be forgotten.

Your victim will be remembered long after you. Name me one of the boys who killed Stephen Lawrence. Once you've bloodied that knife you may as well be dead because you'll be buried for 10 to 20 years. Banged up for that long, only a fool would look back and think it was worth it. You'll be nothing more than a sad, unwanted, unnecessary statistic.

If you were mine, this is what I would tell you. I would make myself a big enough man to beg. I'd get down on bended knees if I had to. I would beg you to take that knife out of your pocket and leave it at home. I would tell you that I know you are scared and lost and that I know the risks involved in what I'm asking you to do. I know that what we could step around, you have to walk through, and that there is always some fool who isn't going to make it any other way but the wrong way. I'm just begging you not to be that fool.

Be a better man than that. Let the story they tell of you be that you exceeded expectations... that you didn't drown. Don't spend your days looking to be a 'bad-man' - try to be a good one. Our biggest failure is that our actions have left you not knowing how precious you are. We have left you unaware of your worth to us. You are precious to us. Give yourself the chance to grow enough to understand why.

Be safe.

Lennie James

Tomlin's JOKE PAGE!

(On Facebook)

https://www.facebook.com/Badbreed.com1/

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