#the texture of this is fun to run my eyes over -w-

[crowdeerdire]

Scars

a/n: Just a blurb about how Kel got her scar on her legs and of Cove finally asking about it. This would take place in Step 3 sometime after Reflection where Cove explains how he broke his arm.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask… How did you get this scar?”

It was a sunny afternoon where Kel and Cove were lounging around in his room, just spending time with one another in comfortable silence.

Cove laid back along his bed, his head resting upon his pillows as his phone sat on his chest now. Kel, however, laid with her head resting at the foot of the bed, legs up with knees locked as she pressed her feet against the top of Cove’s bunk bed. Being in that position and with shorts on, the long jagged and faded scar on her right leg was apparent in the afternoon light.

“You know how I broke my arm…” Cove continued, his voice becoming thoughtful as he looked at the scar on Kel’s leg, seeing how it was beginning to fade into her pale skin. Without a second thought he reached up, fingers ghosting along the scar tissue, mentally trying to see if he could figure out the puzzle before Kel could even answer.

“You’ve had this since I’ve known you.”

If Cove had been paying a bit more attention to the way Kel reacted to his touch, he would have noticed the small jump and shiver that ran through her. Her legs stiffened, refusing to move as his fingers danced along her scar.

“O-oh…” Kel stammered, trying not to focus on what her crush was currently doing, touching her so easily. Sure they held hands and hugged… but this was new territory. “D-… did I never tell you the story?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Cove murmured back, choosing to run the rough pad of his thumb over the scar, tracing the way it ran along the full width of Kel’s thigh, “And you have one on the front of your thigh, too, right?”

Kel took in a shaky breath, heart racing against her ribs so loudly she was certain Cove could hear it. However, with one peek past her legs she could see the faraway look in his eyes that he sometimes got when he was lost in thought. A small huff escaped her nose when she realized she doubted Cove really registered what he was doing.

How cruel.

“W-well,” Kel began before clearing her throat, trying to make sure her voice was even. She would sit up then and explain to him the story if he wasn’t busy touching her. And, well… the fact that she really liked the feeling.

“It’s not as interesting as your jet skiing story.” Kel chuckled as her gray eyes found the wood texture on the ceiling, trying to focus on that as she told her story. “But I fell out of a tree.”

“A tree?” Cove finally stopped running his fingers over Kel’s scar then as he sat up, more curious about the story. “Really? But it’s such a big scar?”

Kel couldn’t help but feel a bit deflated that he stopped, but she soldiered on as she sat up, meeting him in the middle of the bed with a small snort. “Well that’s because when I landed a whole ass branch was jammed through my leg.”

Cove outwardly winced, seeming to fidget at the mere idea of a whole branch through Kel’s leg. It was not a pretty mental image, especially since he knew she would have gotten it before she was eight. Little Kel that injured was not something he wanted to think about… Which made him sympathize with her reaction when he told her about the jet skiing story.

“Oh my god that sounds awful.”

Kel gave a lazy shrug with one shoulder before shifting her position so she sat on her legs. Moving her shorts a bit, she exposed the much smaller and lighter scar that was on the top of her thigh, about one fifth of the size of the one in the back.

“I mean it wasn’t fun.. And to be honest? I don’t remember much. I mostly know what happened because of Liz and moms.” She said softly, a far away look casting on her own face as she tried to remember all she was told.

“You know how wild and weird I was as a kid, right?” Kel said then, coming back from her memories and gaining a snort and laugh from Cove as she brought up her eight year old self. “Well, when I was seven I started to REALLY enjoy climbing things. Like… anything I could.”she laughed, “And apparently trees were my favorite. Especially this really old one out back on poppy hill.”

Cove knew of the tree Kel spoke about. Nowadays it was just a stump since it had begun to rot about five years back. Maybe it was rotting even before then if Kel had fallen out of it?

“Anyways, that day I climbed as high as I could. I kind of remember seeing the ocean from up there. Liz was there too, yelling at me to get down.” Kel chuckled at the memory, her sister's nagging voice clear in her mind. “Well, just then the branch I was on snapped. This is where my memory goes.” She nodded, “But Liz says I hit like five branches on the way down before landing on the ground with one of them stuck through my leg. Apparently it’s a miracle that was the worst of my injuries. I guess I was a spry kid.”

With the last of her story told, Kel leaned back on her hands, giving another lazy shrug as she tilted her head, watching Cove’s reaction. He looked like he was really contemplating the story despite there not being much.

“And that’s it.” Kel added, hoping to prompt his delayed reaction. “Kind of boring, eh?”

Cove let out a small ‘hm’ before finally firmly nodded, a small smirk on his lips. “Yeah, not as cool as mine. At least I got to ride a jet ski.”

Kel gasped, offended that was his conclusion. With a huff of fake anger, she grabbed his pillow and slapped him in the face. “Cove Holden! You’re so frickin’ rude!”

Last time she told him a cool story.

[lemonprick]

thoughts on puss in boots 2: the last wish

spoilers for puss on boots 2 if anyone cares enough about it. you’ve been warned!

i didn’t even know there was a sequel until i saw the thumbnail for schafrillas productions’ video on it, now i’ve watched it and um. it’s actually kinda good?

i had such a weird fondness for the first one. the spanish aesthetic, score, the animation, just the absurdity of this tiny adorable cat, that looks so much like mine, being voiced by antonio banderas. (this is coming from someone who didn’t watch any of the shrek films except the first.) but the story did suck, and humpty dumpty is easily my most disliked character in all of dreamworks history, barry b benson included.

so i figured i’d enjoy this one the way i did the first too; cool fight/dance scenes, good soundtrack and animation, bonkers ideas. turns out i was right in all the wrong ways.

first of all, the fuckin animation?? holy crap what is dreamworks doing? where is the realistic lighting and fur/leather textures you’re known for and why have you given us such gorgeous painted landscapes and layered models?? are you out here trying to steal sony animation studio’s thunder because you truly are! every single fight scene in this is a delight (as expected from dreamworks), was not expecting the 2.5d effect thing they’ve got going on and was straight up blown away by the colours. the kung fu panda influence is strong in this movie. i do think the effects are not quite as earned as in spiderverse of kung fu panda, since its styles are kind of all over the place and not as thematically cohesive, but it’s such a surprising departure from the usual dreamworks look. of course i hope they don’t completely move away from that era, but the designers have really shown us what they can done and i am here for it. i will say the way the frame rates noticeably slow down every time a fight goes on can get grating, but i got used to it halfway in.

secondly the story. yes it is rushed, yes it’s a mish-mash of ideas, yes it doesn’t quite explore each character’s motivations or conflicts to warrant any strong emotional responses, yes it was resolved all rather quickly; all these were issues in the first one as well. goldilocks is especially egregious since we know that she loves her family; look at all their little interactions! they’re the crime family! the writers did drop the ball by making her wish for another family. whatever was that all about?

but jesus christ i was not expecting death to straight up be the antagonist of this film. what an unexpected plot point for what i assumed was marketed as a family fun adventure film, but at the same time oh so expected, because a cat using up his nine lives makes for such fun storytelling? sure it can get a bit too on the nose, but death’s design and entrance is so darn cool i can forgive it a thousand times over.

also the writing. it was pretty clear that they’ve started running out of jokes at some point in the middle and so it did get a lil sluggy in the dialogue, but otherwise? holy fuckin hell how is this a movie for children. you have raw-ass lines like “has the legend gotten so big there isn’t any room for anyone else”? plot-twist-gut-wrench-holy-crap moments like santa coloma?? “it wasn’t just one bad heist. it was a church with priests and guests”?? “lives flashing through your eyes? / no, just one”??? telling death himself to pick up your sickles because i know i can’t win, i’m just going to go down fighting anyways????

and the absolute explosion of bleeps and curses that was perrito. seriously, how did they greenlight that? they put “shit-for-brains” in a kids movie??

(also, the side characters are so casually killed in this movie that it’s kinda insane. dreamworks has never shied away from a good “oh he’s dead now” gag but the way the girl just turned to gold and the baker’s dozen were straight up thanos-snapped away without a moment to spare. chilling to think about.)

not much to say about the acting, it was fun enough to service the film without being outstanding i guess. antonio banderas is having fun as puss as always, for some reason i always thought penelope cruz voiced kitty? but she’s cool in this anyway, finally the comedic relief third-trio-character doesn’t have an annoyingly comedian voice and just sounds like a sweet little dude. florence pugh is fine but there are moments where you know she’s not a voice actor, whoever voiced baby bear sounded a tad too much like james corden and i got chills whenever he spoke. i’d say john mulaney does a decent job selling jack horner, the way he delivers absolutely horrific sentences with such nonchalance and glee is so entertaining to watch; guy may have problems but he is still a comedian with iconic joke delivery.

more of a subjective preference than commentary, but the score was a bit of a let-down. i was so hoping to hear more of the gorgeous spanish acoustic sound that i loved from henry jackman’s previous tracks but this film seems a tad too eager to introduce electronic sounds. some parts do get real castanet-y and brassy, which were my favourite parts; a bit sad diablo rojo or the puss suite didn’t get an encore but oh well, it has been a while.

so i guess the takeaway is that i’m so well-versed in how the studio uses comedy that i was yet again able to predict the “leeches!” line about ten minutes in right before the barber said it.

an objective 7/10 because of the weird pacing and ending, a subjective 9/10 just because i would never have taken a puss in boots movie seriously enough to rank it like i would with other movies. incredibly high-quality absurdity, stellar action, amazing antagonists, absolutely insane lines, a better magical forest adventure than frozen 2. go watch it guys.

(additional comment because i haven’t said enough: this also marks the third 3D animated movie set in a hispanic country where a character dies by being crushed by a bell. only in the case of the book of life the guy was exploded inside the bell but still. a bell.)

EDIT: UPON SECOND WATCH i immediately watched it again the next day because i was so baffled by this movie. i loved it a whole lot this time around! revisiting this makes me realise how good the voice performances actually are, like now with the context that antonio banderas is 62 and still voicing puss with such energy and rigour, just how different john mulaney sounds than his other roles but still delivering deliciously evil lines so well, and i found myself enjoying goldilocks a lot more. also i realised i judged the soundtrack too quickly, even though i’m still not eager on the synths i did appreciate the orchestrals a more (i’m just really stuck on henry jackman’s score). pacing-wise i had initially thought it ran too fast, but now i’m realising maybe it’s just because i loved every single moment in the film that it didn’t feel like it had any room for downtime; too full of fun interactions and chilling moments for me to realise time was passing. still a 9/10 subjective rating, holy fuck this has been one of dreamworks’ recent strongest and it's a shrek spinoff movie

[maudlxne]

Pale hues blinked when both hands came to clasp her shoulders. Excitement evidently donned on his features that only stirred up another soft bout of giggles. If she had known he would be this eager - she would have offered a long time ago. It was a great way to spend time with each other while teaching him an important skill. Threadwork wasn't always an easy feat to learn. However, she was sure with his stubborn determination he could get it. Unless he decided he absolutely hated it in the long run.

❝ Of course. A gift is more meaningful when you make it yourself. If there is anything else you wish to learn you can always ask me, Naruto - kun. I . . . I can also teach you how to mend your clothes easily? ❞

It was a selfish mix of wishing to spend more time with her darling friend as well as practice her teaching skills. It wasn't something she had told others yet - but she was thinking about applying to be a teacher at the ninja academy soon. Of course, she would prefer to work with younger children if possible and foster encouragement. So that way. . . no other child would ever be left alone at that swing again. An image that still haunts her to this day.

❝ Mmmhm . . . you can also pick out what texture and weight you want it to be. ❞

Raising her own fist up to lightly bump her knuckles against his own. That sweet soft smile never once left her features. Lashes fluttered when she saw that self-doubt cloud his happy daze - clasping her hands gently over one of his. Tossing her head lightly from side to side.

❝ I want to. Besides . . . it's not too much work. It would . . . be fun to teach you. Oh ! We could even make a day of it. ❞

Ever sweet as always. Gently encouraging him with soft eyes before slowly letting go. Shifting on the balls of her feet to lead the way toward the shopping district.

❝ W - well . . . if you want my opinion. Something light - cream would hide Akumaru's fur that gets on it. N - not that Kiba - kun would really mind the hair. Why don't you see what fabric speaks to you? ❞

AWESTRUCK , SKY - LOVED HUES WIDE there's rarely been such opportunity to learn normal things like that. growing up by himself ( isolated , hated , fending for himself ) naruto didn't learn how to sew properly, cook´, play an instrument nothing of the sorts. the offer took him by surprise, but it was a pleasant one. blinking, smile 'pon lips back full of glee & excitement hands land softly on both her shoulders as he meets her gaze. ❛ you'd really teach me how to do that ? of course we can make it together ! i'm sure kiba would like that !  ❜

revealing still in the feeling to get a chance to learn to do it properly the uzumaki lowered his palms carefully knowing how to be careful with own strength. ❛ i learned a bit but . . . more to fix stuff than to make things .  ❜ & poorly at that but he didn't say that out loud. ( a skill born from necessity & despair a kid all alone with ripped clothes ; ) ❛ we need fabrics , right ? let's go , 'ttebayo !  ❜ shinobi exclaimed, fist held out towards her to BUMP.

❛ the jerky we can probably buy , don't worry . it'll be work enough to teach me sewing .  ❜ there was a little sadness in last words, self doubts sometimes still a haunting shadows from years of belittlement & being shunned. even with all that happened, some emotional scars never truly heal. ❛ what color do you think will be the best ? something dark ?  ❜

[throwaway-yandere]

Paint (Kaveh/Reader Drabble)

a/n: not a yandere fic, i'm just a kaveh simp who cant focus on pe midterms lol. Sorry i didn't draw anything like usual– this is literally just something i wrote like 7 minutes tops lmao

-------

"What... Exactly are you doing, Master Kaveh?"

"Ever heard of rapid hardening cement?"

"Not really, no."

"Well, you're about to find out what it is." 

Kaveh peeled off the straw-like material from the solid concrete, revealing the final product of his casual 2-hour-long project. It was a miniature house, adorned with bricked textures and tones. Something at this level is mere child's play to him, but to everyone else? It's quite a masterpiece, not even his roommate can refute that statement or criticize his work. The light of the Kshahrewar honestly never ceases to dazzle and amaze you.

"That looks fantastic…"

Kaveh shrugged. "Eh, can't say I agree. It's a bit too basic for my standards– I'm quite indifferent about the results."

"Still doesn't make it any less great for everyone else." You were awed, unable to tear your eyes away over what he called a 'basic' project.

Kaveh's expression softened. "Thank you."

He quickly looked back at his model. "A-Anyways, the only thing that would complete it now is a bit of color. Are you good at art, (Y/n)?" 

"On the contrary, no." You sighed. "The only art form I practice are social dances, and I presume you meant a more visual display?"

"Unfortunately yes." Kaveh frowned. "Anyone else you know I could ask?"

"There's the traveler but..." You muttered inaudibly, not wanting to bother her with the eccentric architect's antics. "No, I don't."

"Well, why don't I teach you how to paint?" Kaveh smiled. "Come, sit beside me. It's a fun exercise! It'll help you act a little less rigid."

"Rigid...?"

"Yes." Kaveh nodded solemnly. "I pity the victims who had such sparks of creativity die so easily between the rough hands of the corporate and cold life. (Y/n), you act like such a grandmother that I sincerely did not believe you when you told me we were roughly the same age."

"W-Well, the Akademiya never taught us this so–"

"We're gonna change that today."

Kaveh brought up his painting materials. There were posted paints, glitter, fake grasses, and–

There's not a single paintbrush.

"Kaveh, I'm afraid you don't have a brush. Might I run to buy you one?"

"What? Who said we're using brushes? I make and break the rules of architecture around here."

Kaveh pulled your hand, his fingers locking with yours. His hands were warm. With a youthful smile, he forced you to sit beside him. He hastily grabbed a capped red paint, before pointing at the roof. But you can't seem to focus on the task at hand– how can you, when his face looked so aesthetically pleasing?

This man...

He set this whole thing up perfectly.

"Today's mission is to bring back the childlike wonder in your eyes– you'll find out what a joy it is to finger-paint!"

—--

The next day, Alhaitham comes back to his desk carrying a large pile of paperwork, not knowing where to put it as he mentally screamed at his roommate for making his workplace more paint and glitter-filled than last time.

"I swear– I'm going to take both keys the next time he asks them out."

[shorkbrian]

Street Cat hybrid shoto seems to like you so much, even more than he likes his owner Momo

When you come to see momo, he is 24/7 by your side, following you around all day long, touching you and your things, licking your neck just like he always did since he was a lil baby cat *W* and even worst, he still cries when you have tô tô home!

Why aren’t you his owner? It was you who saved him, but you couldn’t have a hybrid at your apartment, so you left him with your best friend.

It was you who made him more human. Without you, shoto would be still living in the street. But how could he feel at home when his home is you?

One day, Momo sends a message asking you to take care of him while she works for a few days in another country. She says he only wants you, and gets pissy and teary when someone else comes

You are happy to help— i mean, things are being so stressful at your new work! It has been a week since you saw Shoto.

It just happen that you carry so many new smells

Shoto doesn’t like that >:(

(This is a prompt/request. Feel free to change things or deny this shit. I just want some beastial sex with yandere shoto who cries while humping your pussy bc he finally feels at peace)

hoooooo my gosh 

(What to expect - NSFW, noncon, scenting, thoughts of watersports)

Hybrid Shouto who’s long and lean, milky skin scarred and marred in places from the various fights he’s had while living on the street.

He’s got enough muscles to crush you when he hugs you, to put significant weight on you when he tries to cuddle up in your lap as you talk to Momo. 

You’re close with Momo, having fun “girls night” when you and Jirou go over and drink wine, do each others nails, and talk about whatever been’s going on that week.

Shouto never interrupts, is always quiet as long as he’s by your side, purring when you scratch behind his ear, stretching out so he’s sprawled across your legs where you’re sitting on the floor.

Jirou and Momo think it’s cute how attached the hybrid is to you, coo at him whenever the hybrid jumps to follow you around Momo’s house, touching everything you touch, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder, hovering one step behind you like a clingy shadow.

It’s hard to say goodbye, especially with Shouto clinging to you, jaw set, unshed tears shining in his eyes as he begs you to stay, just a little longer.

So “girls night” turns into a fun sleepover, no big deal.

It’s adorable when you wake up to find the hybrid curled up at your feet, tail tucked around his body as he snores softly, ears twitching. When you go to make coffee, you bump into Momo, and barely begin telling her about the cute occurrence, before Shouto is padding into the kitchen, frown on his face, immediately jumping towards you.

Crushes you in a hug, pushes you against the counter as he comforts himself by stroking your shoulder, licking at your neck. “Thought you left...” The hybrid whines.

It’s easy to see how much he cares for his savior.

When Momo asks you to watch him, of course you say yes. He’s easy to please, with an even temperament and hardly any bad habits. You’d say his worst habit is his clinginess, how you can’t even go to the bathroom without the hybrid lurking outside of the door, waiting for you to get out so he can be close to you again.

But it seems he’s developed some unsavory traits living on the streets, as he pushes you to the floor as soon as you cross into Momo’s home.

“You smell different.” And it’s not a question. The hybrid’s cold nose is tickling your skin, first at your hands, then your throat, ghosting over your face before he drops down, pushes up your shirt a little so he can nose at your stomach.

“Hey! Shouto wha-”

“You smell awful.” He hisses, tail puffing up, ears flat against his head. 

“I’m-I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize.... I’ll go shower and change right now, okay? I’m sorry Sho’, I forgot you have such a sensitive nose.”

That calms him down a little bit, until you’re locking the bathroom door, Shouto stuck on the outside while you turn on the shower.

“Please let me in, I won’t look, just want to be close to you.” Comes his soft voice, and he sounds so sad, so plaintive, and you find yourself biting your lip.

“No, Shouto, I would like some privacy please while I shower. Afterwards we can cuddle or something, alright?”

There’s silence from the other side of the door, which is a tad worrying, but the quicker you can shower and change, the quicker you can go comfort the sensitive hybrid.

You find him curled up in his bed, buried underneath his blankets, frown on his face. It’s easy to slip in behind the hybrid, snuggling up against his furnace-like body heat.

No words are spoken, but the hybrid turns, buries his face into your neck, huffing and chuffing against your skin while you try not to squirm from the sensation. His little kitten licks tickle, especially when he starts grooming you, rough, textured tongue pulling rhythmically at your skin.

He dips too close to your chest, licking over your collarbone, but it’s innocent, harmless. Cats do this to each other when they feel safe, when they have a bond. You know Shouto is probably just trying to self-soothe after being left home all day. You know he’s a needy hybrid.

Shouto moves to lick at your arms, and that tickles even more, and you can’t stop from squirming and giggling a little when he licks at the crease of your elbow. Next thing you know, he has both of his slender, pale hands wrapped around one of your own hands, stuffing a few of your fingers into his mouth so he can suck on them.

You’re gasping in shock, surprised as you feel his fangs scrape over your flesh, the sensation strange and unexpected. “Shouto-!”

But the hybrid has his eyes closed, nose wiggling a bit as he falls into a rhythm, muscles relaxing as he settles down.

Another self-soothing gesture, you figure.

Today was a long day, and it doesn’t take too long before you get used to the unusual sensation of the hybrid’s tongue working over your fingers; it’s easy to fall asleep.

But when you wake up from your nap? Chaos.

Your shirt was askew, half your chest exposed, nipple pebbling in the cold as a neatly manicured hand rested over the meat of your breast.

The shorts you had slipped into out of the shower were still in place, but you were able to clearly feel the meat of Shouto’s erection as it rubbed against your mound, the hybrid’s hips stuttering forward as he panted above you, resting on an elbow.

He was gasping into your neck, quiet little breaths and held-back moans, trying not to wake you up.

But as soon as you got your bearings, began pushing at the hybrid, not even sure what to feel in this situation; Shouto lifted his head, blinking slowly.

“Want you to smell like me.” Is all the explanation that he offers, completely unmoving even as you get your hands underneath his chest and push.

“No-no, stop it, stop it right now Sho’.” Your voice is filled with panic, scratchy from sleep, weak.

Shouto shakes his head, buries it back into your neck as he starts licking at your skin, trying to comfort you, soothe you, calm you down. “I can’t...” But you knew what he was really saying, what was really running through his mind. I won’t.

The hybrid doesn’t settle until you’re drenched in sweat, wet and sticky from his cum as he’d pulled his cock out of his sleep shorts, came on your stomach, and thighs, and all over your shorts.

It doesn’t matter how much you squirm, how much you tell him that it’s wrong, how obviously unwanting you are of this treatment, Shouto doesn’t care.

Cum gets smeared on your face, into your hair, rubbed messily into your skin as Shouto nuzzles against you, purring as you tire from fighting him, grow limp underneath him, eyes staring blankly ahead as he violates you.

A small part of himself wants to go even further, to spread his seed into your mouth, down your throat, into your stomach. Shoot it deep into your womb, make you sticky and wet on not only the outside, but the inside too. An even worse, disgusting part of himself, a voice that Shouto refuses to listen to, gives him an urge to mark his territory in a primal, animalistic way.

Piss all over you, your belongings, until no one will come near you without smelling him.

Shouto wants you to smell like him, to smell claimed. By the time he’s done with you, it won’t matter how many showers you take - you won’t be able to rid yourself of his scent.

[demonsandco]

I just saw you don't have anything with Barbatos, this is a crime /j /lh

So could I please request A, C, D, F, K, M, P, V and W from the smut alphabet with him? I know it's a lot, so please feel free to just pick the ones you want to do if it's too much!! I love your writing by the way, thank you for sharing it with us and I hope you have a wonderful day💖

Aaa thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my stuff!! I’m still a little unsure on how I want to portray Barb (considering he has such little screen time smh), but you cannot tell me this man isn’t secretly a slut (affectionate)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

As with everything, Barbatos’ first instinct after sex is to take care of his partner in any way he can. He’ll want to run them a bath, get them something to drink, and if it’s not too late he may even offer to make them a light snack, all the while completely ignoring his own needs. He wants to feel useful and productive, unused to properly relaxing or taking a break. Even if his muscles feel like jelly and his legs tremble with every step, he’ll still focus all his energy on serving them. Luckily, with how exhausted he tends to feel right after sex, it’s not too hard for them to convince him to just cuddle up and rest for once, their encouragement being more than enough to convince him to indulge for once.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

As much as Barb isn’t a fan of messiness, there's something about cumming on his partner that he finds immensely pleasing, being able to claim them in a primal way, without having to worry about lasting marks. He especially loves cumming all over their hands, watching it drip down to their wrists. He has no shame in cleaning it up for them, either, bringing their dirtied hands to his mouth and running his tongue over their palms, diligently sucking each finger clean individually, all while making direct eye contact with a lewd look on his face.

(cont under the cut)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

With how intensely private Barbatos is, the fact that he has an active sex life, or experience in general, could be a dirty secret on it’s own. Many believe that he’s married to his job, and even those that are close to him, rarely hear about the more private partners of his life. It’s not that he purposefully keeps his relationship a secret, but rather he just tends to blend into the background and he hardly ever feels the need to talk about himself. The amount of passion he has in the bedroom is surprising to say the least, considering how he carries himself in public.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Barbatos greatly enjoys stress positions, especially ones that involve restraints. His favorite would have to be kneeling, legs spread with his ankles tied to his thighs and his hands tied behind his back, forcing his spine to arch and leaving him exposed and helpless to his partner’s every whim. He knows that it’s rather out of the ordinary, and he definitely doesn’t expect every night with his partner to involve something like that, but he can’t help but crave the thrill that comes with that position, unable to move and not having to think, only having to hold still and letting them use his body as they wish.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Unsurprisingly, one of Barb's favorite kinks is bondage, either with ropes or delicate ribbons. It’s cathartic in a way, both tying up his partner and being restrained himself. He finds himself drawn to intricate knot patterns especially, enjoying the artistry and skill that comes with it. He could spend hours restraining them in an artful manner without getting tired of it. He’s even more fond of having them do the same to him, knowing that they put time and effort into learning different patterns for him, not being able to do anything but hold still as their hands slide over his body in such an intimate way. Every shift of his muscles or hitch of his breath causes the bonds to bite into his skin, pressing tightly in his most sensitive areas.

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

Despite having a fairly high libido, it’s actually incredibly difficult to turn Barbatos on without being outright sexual. He has an impressive amount of control, especially when he’s working, and no amount of flirtatious touches or whispered promises are enough to shatter his composure. If his partner really wants to have an effect on him, they need to be bold and direct.

The easiest way to do so is to follow him somewhere private, like an empty hallway or the kitchen, and be physical. Grab his hips and press up against his back, pin him against a wall or counter with their thigh between his legs, or pull him down for a kiss while tugging on his hair. They need to be quick, taking too much time will make him rush back to work and ruin their element of surprise, but the sudden affection is enough to steal his breath and leave him aching for more. Once they’ve managed to break his control, though, they’d better be prepared to not get much sleep that night, because he’ll be eager to follow through with their advances the moment he finishes his work for the day.

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

Barbatos tends to prefer a slower, passionate pace, every movement calculated and controlled to bring a specific amount of pleasure to his partner. It isn’t often that he has time to spare, so when he does, he wants to savor every moment he gets to spend with them, taking his time with their body and indulging his greedy side. He loves how desperate it makes them, his movements so slow that it’s practically torture, highly pleasurable, but just barely not enough to cum. He’ll drag on the moment for as long as he can, because he knows it’ll be a while before he can do it again.

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

Barbatos is naturally very quiet, his voice soft and soothing. He doesn’t speak much during sex, and when he does, his words are barely more than a whisper. At first, he’s completely silent, purposefully stifling his noises out of embarrassment, but even when he lets go, he never really gets loud. Most of his noises sound like gasps, and even his rarely heard moans are extremely breathy and desperate, much higher in tone than his regular voice. He has a habit of trying to muffle himself if he feels he’s getting too noisy, hiding his face in bed sheets or pillows and biting into the material, or bringing his hands up to his face to bite his knuckles, attempting to regain control of his voice.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Unlike most demons, Barbatos’ horns are actually very sensitive, to the point where the slightest touch is enough to send shivers down his spine. The little skeletal appendages function more like feelers or antennae, rather than weapons. While he’s distracted, they often move without him realising, shifting with his emotions and acting as an easy way for his partner to tell when he’s really enjoying something.

His tail isn’t anywhere near as sensitive, but it’s certainly a fun addition to the bedroom. He has very precise control of it, being able to move both tips independently with precision. It basically self lubricates, too, having a strange wet, almost gloopy and slippery texture, without ever leaving behind any residue to clean up. He’d be more than happy to use it on his partner, or himself, and show them exactly how skilled he is in controlling its movements.

[eijishimas]

DEMON/INCUBUS BAKUGO!!! sexy man

tries to get u to do sinful activities in the sheets w him but ure a lil slow about what he means so he just has to show u a good time ;))

sexy man sexy man— au’s are so fun to write, and demon/incubus!bakugou just makes sense to me??

i hope i did this idea justice tbh, i missed writing thirsts a little bit. sorry this took a little long (ik this was from around bakugou’s birthday OOPS) thank u for ur patience, sweet anon <3

hopefully the length of it makes up for it hehe,,, enjoy

there’s always been a bit of a looming presence over your shoulder when you turn in for the night. i’d like to think that demon!katsuki has been watching you for awhile now. he just observes you sleeping, which is kinda weird, but he wants you for himself. everything from the steady rise and fall of your chest, how you rub your thighs together when you’re cold, how your fingers grip the sheets when you have a nightmare. he wanted all of you. he can’t even stand it when you’re on your phone texting other men, or even your friends. not that you ever knew that.

when he manifests in front of you for the first time, you’re more confused than frightful. he’s tall and large, with sharp teeth and glowing eyes paired with devilish horns. veins run up and down his scarred arms, exuding power and dominance over you without him even needing to bat an eye. this man is such a FLIRT. he’s forward and possessive, wanting you all for himself and he isn’t willing to share. he knows you’re a virgin, he’s never had such an innate desire to corrupt someone more than you. your innocence would die with him, and he would drink in your facial expressions as you screamed around his cock with greed.

demon!katsuki would have you lay face down, your back arched as he nudges your wet folds with the head of his massive cock. it’s girthy, thick and twitching for you, and the grin he has on his face is undeniable. and you, poor innocent you, have no idea what you’re in for. your hands are clawing at the sheets and you’re whimpering from the stretch, moaning while he presses inch after unbelievable inch into you. you’ve never felt so full before, not with your own fingers at least. you’re quivering, bending before his will like water down a never ending stream.

while he fucks you, he pulls your back up to his chest so you can hear him growl, his pointed teeth dragging against your sensitive skin and making you clench your walls involuntarily. he’s got a strong hand around your throat, fucking you with only half his cock because he can already see the bulge in your tummy each time he pushes in. that feeds the fire in him, his ego inflating as he dirty talks you to filth. “been a while since i’ve had such a cute little virgin. i forgot how fuckin’ tight you all were. yeah that’s right, squeeze my cock just like that.”

oh i almost forgot to mention— his tail. absolutely devilish as it slinks around your torso, red in colour and smooth in texture. there’s a tiny triangular scale at the end of it, sharp and dangerous as it scours your body, tracing the insides of your thighs and warm against your swollen clit. he loves hearing you whine, watching you squirm as the stimulation from him is all far too much for your inexperienced body to handle. he’s barely working up a sweat and you’re cumming from how his cock kisses your cervix inside of you with each thrust of his hips, being unable to hold back your release any longer. making a mess on the bed with your essence, you’re gasping for air as katsuki licks a long strip from the base of your neck to the spot just below your jaw.

“what a good little plaything. don’t go wasting this pretty pussy on anyone but me, or else you’ll have some hell to pay for. hah?” he sinks his teeth into your skin, grinning at the mark he made. you were from that day on his, and only his, little plaything.

all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.

tags:

@lonleyweeb77 @cynthus-no @lonelyheart-cluband @smhhyung @stoopidnekobish @kiridarling @kirislilrock @baku-deku1 @angelsofprey @hajisuu @damnitcrowley @alixdelcourt @foruthemoon @peaxhcringe @justanotheruselessextra @izukuuarchive @katsuki-kitten @shokoarashi @bakugous-trauma sorry i couldn’t tag all of u!

want to be on the taglist? see here.

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Welcome, Father...

"Tell us, demon scum." The male agent grabbed the light from the female agent, shoving it in his face, "Who do you work for? Satan?"

"How did you get to our world from the afterlife?"

"Why are youse killing humans?"

"When did you show up here?"

The damned agents finally stoped passing the lights about, giving him a moment to adjust to the situation.

"Okay, I'm gonna stop you right there, bitch." He snapped at the humans, "First of all, we just woke up from a very nasty shock and I'm still feeling fuckin' woozy, so I'm gonna request you fetch us some coffee before we get into this. I mean, everyone gets coffees in shitty movies with scenes like this, am I right? I want something iced, bitch." Looking over his shoulder, he asked his employee, "Mox?"

Raising his nose, Moxxie began, "I'll have a Neopolitan cappuccino, more cappu than cino, make sure it's got no more than four ounces of milk, the beans won't have the right texture otherwise, and make sure they spell my name correctly on the cup they always put "Foxy" or "Roxy", I hate that."

"If you can't handle that, I'll have a Venti traditional Misto. Please use soy milk with two blond shots Affogato and Ristretto. I'd also love three vanilla pumps at the very bottom. Then, add the coffee after, then-"

"Enough!" The male agent snapped, "We aren't getting youse coffee!"

"Wow, I was getting massive douche chills just there, Mox." He told him proudly, "Congrats!"

"If we have to, we are willing to resort to torture methods to get answers out of you nasty hell beasts!" The female agent failed to sound threatening.

"When you say "tortured", do you mean physical or psychological?" Moxxie asked in his typical know-it-all tone, "Physical seems counterproductive; we would likely tell you anything if it meant an end to the pain, and you have no way of knowing what was true." He spouted at the humans.

"Or we might like it too much." He but in, "And then you got a whole new thing to deal with."

The male agent leaned down, raising a bore "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, you're stupid, huh? I can work with stupid. Daddy Likey Dummy!" Blitzø taunted the agent.

"Good one sir, Daddy likey-" Moxxie sputtered, squirming in his chair.

"You better stop laughin' at us." The female agent threatened.

"Yeah! You're the ones at our mercy!" The male agent yelled at him, grabbing his collar

"It's hard to resist, I'm really sorry. I mean, considering your approach thus far, you've had us tied up here for what, hours?" Mox cut in, "And you haven’t even had us confirm what exactly we are!" Moxxie mocked the agents like the nerd he was.

"What are you?" The female agent asked, a curious tone coming to the females voice.

"I'm a Virgo." Moxxie told her, smugness dripping from his voice.

Both Imps burst into laughter, the agents only getting more frustrated.

Just as the male agent was gonna snap at them, the door to the room suddenly swung open.

An unnatural amount 9f light poured into the room, blinding them all for a brief moment. Once there eyes adjust, they found a silhouette standing in the doorway.

They were dressed in black, looking up a distinct shine came from his eyes, the figure wearing glasses.

Walking into the room, the figure spoke, "The question isn't what they are? The question is why there here?" He spoke cryptically.

Stepping closer the male agent came to meet the stranger halfway, "Who da Hell ah' you and how'd you get in here?" The male agent demanded.

Raising his gaze the stranger wore a smile.

The agent noticeably reacted. Stumbling back "F-f-f-father Cain... W-what are you's doin here?" He sputtered.

This 'father' just smile at him, "My associates informed me you acquired two new specimens." He looked at him, "I've come to process them." He spoke menacingly.

Father cain looked over the agents shoulder, gazing at him and Moxxie. "Excellent job My child. I always knew my faith was well placed." The father told the agent, patting his shoulder.

The agent seemed taken aback, "Th-thank you Sir." He spoke, a lone tear sliding down his cheek.

"Father Cain?" The female agent asked, walking up to 'father' Cain. "Last I heard you were down at some beach on Spring break."

Smiling at the pair, father cain raised a finger, "Ive no time for such hedonistic pleasures. Not while the Lords work is to be done" He said happily.

"Now" He began cheerfully "I need a table if I am to do my work." He spoke firmly, raising a medium sized doctors bag, that seemed to appear from nowhere.

The male agent snapped to attention, quickly running about before rushing into the back room.

Walking forwards, Father Cain removed his glasses, staring down at him. "My, my, my, they certainly did a good job. Quite a pair of specimens you have here." He spoke to himself.

Raising a brow, Blitzø wore a little grin. "Oh yeah? You should see my junk, now thats a specimen." He spoke in his usual cocky tone.

'Father' Cain just smiled, slowly walking around to Moxxie inspecting him as well. "And unharmed, very impressive." The 'Father' told the female agent.

A moment later, the male agent returned, awkwardly dragging in a large wooden table. Dropping it down, he gave a few deep puffs, "There ya go 'Fatha', will this do?"

'Father' Cain smiled told him, gratefully telling him "That will do perfectly, thank you my child."

Walking over, the 'Father' placed his bag down before opening it and pulling out a myriad of odd and strange objects.

There was a series of shiny items and tools. Although a small wooden case caught his attention, the Imp couldn't help but think it didn't belong.

"Hey, uh, you guys seem pretty chummy and we'd hate to be a third wheel, so we'd be happy to leave you to it." He cut in smugly, hoping to get a rise from one of them.

And that he did, the male agent trying to snap at him, only to be tempered by this 'Father' Cain

Calming down, the male agent asked, "What did you mean, when you came in Sit. That it's not "What they are, it's why there here?'"

Smiling, Father Cain patted his shoulder, "I'm glad you caught that, I always knew you were sharp."

He smoke warmly, "I said that because, simply put. I know what they are. They are Imps." He said it simply.

That actually surprised him, even Moxxie reacted, releasing the slightest gasp.

Looking over the father just had a eerie smile, clearly happy with there reaction.

Both agents looked confused, "Imps?" They asked each other.

The father released a deep sigh, "Yes, Imps. Imps are the very lowest of the low in hell, as well as the lowest of the Hellbornes, or Hellspawn, I can never seem to remember which is the proper term."

Walking over, Father Cain placed a finger under his chin, raising his head to meet his gaze. "Your responsible for the death of a two hundred and sixty three humans." He told him coldly.

"Yeah, but I wanna know is why?" The female agent asked, "If they were just killing humans for shits and giggles, why not just kill wherever and whenever?" She asked.

Nodding his head, "Because..." Father Cain stood up, "They do serve a higher demon, but not Satan."

Standing up, the 'Father' walked to his bag, pulling a yellow folder out. "They've killed hundreds, and the only thing that connects them...? Death."

There was another pause, before he spoke again, "But not there deaths. Each person they've killed has had someone directly related to there lives die in the past decade."

Walking over to the Imps, the 'Father' showed them a series of pictures. Blitzø recognised them... they were targets they'd killed.

"There not killing them for a demon lord, there killing them for other human souls. I imagine with a the ability to travel to the human world, you've turned revenge into a buisness." He said simply, tossing the pictures to the side.

Crouching down, the 'Father' stared at him coldly before asking "Who's book did you use to get here, Demon?"

Blitzø stared back at him, the Imp doing his best to keep calm. But he could tell this human was clearly more dangerous than the other two idiot 'demon hunters'.

Standing up, 'Father' Cain told the other agents coldly, "Leave us. Remove any cameras. I dont want any sort of witness."

"What?" The female agent asked aghast, "We caught these 'Imps' there our score and we'll be interrogating them." She snapped at the 'Father', only for the the father to calmly stare at her.

Before he could speak, the male agent grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her out of the room he spoke hastily "P-please forgive her, Sir. She doesn't fully understand the importance of your work."

The female agent put a fight, but was quickly pulled out of the room, slamming it behind him.

Now with just the three of them, 'Father' Cain removed his glasses before placing them on the table.

Stretching his neck, he removed the white collar piece at the front of his shirt, placing it in his coat pocket.

"Now" he began coldly "shall we begin the fun?"

Turning around, Blitzø decided now was a good time to speak up. "Fun, aye? What kinda fun we talkin. Shots, blow, maybe a good old fashioned threesome?" He asked, hoping to get under this 'Father' Cain's skin.

He was surprised, however, when the 'Father' just laughed, glancing over his shoulder at him.

"Your tricks won't work on me demon. I'm used to your tricks by now." He spoke happily, grabbing a small gun like object. Placing that down, he inspected a series of bottles.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Blitzø spoke up. "You clearly know more us then those dumbass agent dickwads did, so... what's your game?" He asked, trying to be serious.

The human stopped for a moment, looking over his shoulder, he spoke up, "I know much about you. For instance, your the other Imps boss, hence he calls you Sir." He spoke coyly, still inspecting the myriad of items he'd brought.

"I also know you've killed people on three different continants, although I wonder how many you came up to kill specifically and how many were collateral." He spoke again.

Turning around he held a small bottle, walking forwards he leaned over Blitzø "I also know you can only get to the living world if your a succubus, a demon lord, or... you have a Grimoire."

Blitzø chuckled, "What is that some kinda fish?" He asked, trying to play dumb.

The 'Father' chuckled, shaking his head, "Besides how do you know I'm not a succubus, I can hold my own in the sack." He spoke smugly.

The 'Father' stared at him, an eerie smile crossing his lips.

"You want to know how i know what you are?" He asked coldly, cold eyes sending a shiver down his spine and not in the good way.

Before he could ask what I was, the father reach forwards, ripping a hole in his pants leg. "What the fuck?!" He yelled at him, "These are my good pants!"

Not minding him, the 'Father' removed a second bottle. "This" He showed him a small blue bottle, "Is poisen to Succubus." He said simply, opening the bottle and revealing an eye dropper, dropping two little droplets on his leg.

Nothing happened, the cool liquid sliding down and observing into his pant leg. Putting the bottle away He showed the original brown bottle, "This... is for Imps." He said simply.

Opening the bottle, it revealed another eye drop, holding it over his thigh, he dropped a single drop on his leg.

This time his whole body reacted, he pulled against his bindings as he released a blood curdling screech.

It felt like someone was jamming a molten hot poker into his thigh. It went on for minutes, the Imp whining in pain. "What the fuck do you want you sick fuck?!" Blitzø yelled at him.

A small smile crossed the 'Father's' lips before he stood up and told him "I want to show you something."

Walking over to the table, he grabbed that wooden case before bringing it over to the Imps.

Crouching down besides the both of them, he told the both of them "These are my most prized possessions." He spoke warmly, running his hand across the wooden case.

"What'cha got there? Ya dildo collection?" He tried to sound smug, though the Imp was still writhing in pain.

He heard moxxie tried to laugh, but it died in his throat, the smaller Imp still terrified by his boss's earlier reaction.

Opening the case, he revealed several colourful arrow heads, each one varying in size, shape and colour.

It took a long time, the imp looking over the arrow heads before he realised, 'Those aren't arrow heads... there demon tails.'

"Fuck..." Blitzø gasped, he heard Moxxie sputter out a similar cuss, just as scared behind him.

The 'Father' on the other hand, seemed quite proud, gently trailing his fingers across the tail heads.

"These are my life's work" He spoke calmly, "I've dedicated my life to hunting demons like you." He trailed his fingers across the tails, "Most of these are from Succubus. They can come and go from my world to yours the easiest, so most of the demons we find are Succubus."

He pointed to two crimson tail tips, "But these two... these two are special."

Leaning in, he spoke gently "These two... are from Imps." The revelation seemed to bring bile into the back of Blitzøs throat.

"Jesus..." moxxie said shakily, turning his head and throwing up.

Blitzø took a deep breath, doing his best not to throw up. Looking back at the human he found him holding up a tail head.

"This one" he told him, twirling it between his fingers, "I got at a little beach city. The city getting my attention after a giant demonic fish had popped up. Sound familiar." He asked with a smirk.

"Unfortunately most of them had used there demonic charm to escaped the police before I arrived... key word being, 'most'." He told him, turning his attention back on the tail head.

"I got this one from a succubus. She hid herself as a chubby little black woman. She played dumb, just like you, and much like you she was cocky and ignorant." Placing the tail tip into the container, he said coldly, "But now..."

He left the question open, clearly trying get in there heads. The problem being... it was working.

Standing up the human didn't speak for several long moments, before he placed the case on Blitzøs lap, gently telling him "Hold this"

Blitzø's whole body froze up, a deep sickness growing in his stomach as he felt the cool wooden case on his lap.

The human walked over to the mirror Blitzø only just noticed. The human stared at it for a long moment, the silence in the room becoming palpable.

Until the silence was dashed when the 'Father' smashed his arm through the mirror, before throwing his body back smashing the male agent through the mirror and slamming him into the wall.

Looking at his slumped form, 'Father Cain turned back to the now broken mirror, finding the terrified female agent standing there.

Releasing a deep sigh, the 'father' began climbing in through the now broken double sided mirror.

"It was your doing, wasn't it?" He asked, "I said I needed no witnesses, but you always did hold him back. What a waste of potential." The 'Father' told her, before grabbing her and dragging her through the window.

Bringing her to her knees, he grasped the sides of her head.

The woman desperately clawing at his arms. The female agent releasing a desperate cry for mercy as he began crushing her head.

Blood began trailing from her eyes and nose, crying out until her head splattered between his hands, sending a splatter of bone and brain matter across his face.

Dropping her now destroyed head, he realised it, the now sludge like head hit the ground with a wet splat.

Before the 'Father' flicked his hands, looked back at the Imps, "What the fuck are you?!" Blitzø yelled at him.

The human only smiled, walking over, he gently grabbed the wooden case before walking back over and placing it on the table.

Walking over to the now collapsed male agent, he placed his foot on the side of his head. "I... am alpha and Omega." He said coldly, staring him right in the eyes before crushing the other agents head beneath his foot.

Walking back to the table, he grabbed a red cloth, wiping his face before placing on his glasses he turned to the two Imps.

"Oh Satan... Oh, Satan please, please help me" Moxxie begged, clearly losing his shit. "Please just let me see Millie one last time, I don't want to die."

Before Blitzø could snap at his limp dick employee for showing weakness, the roof began to rumble, bit suddenly gave way, Millie falling through carrying a battle axe.

"MILLIE!!!" Moxxie practically cried, tears of joy beading in his eyes.

"MOX!" Millie cried back, rushing over and getting them out of ther bindings.

Just after that Loona broke through the door, Blitzø taking a moment to tell her how proud he was to see her in the field.

Now all free and together they turned to the 'Father', finding him still very much cool and collected, the sight sending a bone chilling shiver down his spine.

"Just in time" The human spoke, seemingly happy at the outcome "Its so good to see a family reunited."

"Now I imagine one of you have my Grimoire?" He asked inspecting his fingers. "Give it to me and I'll let you leave."

Now it was Blitzøs turn to chuckle, "Nah, I don't think so." He spoke cockily, reaching into his emergency pack for a gun.

The 'Father' just chuckled again, standing up straight he snapped his finger. And like it were choreographed, dozens of suit wearing humans burst into the room.

"Gentlemen!" He addressed them "These demonic scum have killed your commanders. And they shall do it again and again and again, until you send them back to hell." He told them, stepping into the back room.

The fight after that was one of the best Blitzø had ever had, although it would have been even better if he didn't have this injured leg.

Regardless, the whole thing was so bad ass and everyone was working together so well. He even got to see his Loony kick some ass.

Firing a missle, from his over sized launcher, he cleared what was left of the agents.

He'd though that was it, there weren't anybody left to stop them.

He was wrong.

The lights to switch to red, an alarm start blaring through the facility.

They all made for the door, only for a series of doors to slam in there face, locking them in the room.

His Loony tried desperately to read the book, but couldn't see anything in the crimson light that filled the room

It was then he heard a slow clapping, all of them turning to find the 'Father' giving them a condescending clap.

"Well done, Hellspawn, Well done. You've killed all the witnesses, depleted your ammunition and now I know you can't read the Grimoire in crimson light. Well done."

Standing before them, even outnumbered and unharmed, the 'Father' seemed to hold total control of the situation.

Before he could think of something any, all the air seemed to such out of the room, demonic whispers filling the room like shadows.

"You dare threaten my Impish little plaything~" the whispers spoke.

He knew this voice, but like his friends and family, he chose not to speak, too caught up in the moment.

Screens flew off the wall, avian footprints trailed across the floor. The bodies of the dead agents rose to there feet, eyes black as they began the intricate process of drawing some demonic symbol from there own blood.

Stepping back the 'Fther' looked about, before smiling, "Finally" He whispered, pulling out a flask and began chugging it.

Shadows seemed to slither like a million black snakes crawled across the floor, disappearing at the 'Fathers' feet.

There was a long pause before the human bent over and violently projectile vomited, throwing up what seemed like gallons of black liquid from his mouth.

The vomiting stopped, the human standing back up.

The back liquid slowly pulled itself to gathering, slowly morphing into a figure.

The black tar slowly formed into feathers, limbs and fingers, a set of crimson eyes appearing in the black goo.

The figure appeared to be Stolas. But this was not the elegant demon lord of hell.

This being was a wretched, wounded animal, covered in filth.

The 'Father' just wiped his mouth, that cold gaze returning to his eyes. Stepping forwards he grabbed Stolas by the filthy collar, staring him down.

The owl demon was a sputtering mess, coughing up black liquids as he tried to breathproperly.

The owl looked up at him.

And for the very first time in wjat was likely a millennia of existence, Stolas looked Terrified.

Not scared.

Terrified.

Grabbing at the arms of the human, the Prince of Hell sputtered out, "W-what are you?"

The human stopped, looking down at the owl, leaning down and whispered, "I am the beginning... and i am the end..."

The owl just stared up at him in horror, the humans hand coming to wrap around his throat, the demon feebly attempting to break free from his grasp.

There was a long moment where the only sound in the room was the prince's pitiful wheezing, frail little cries coming from the owl as the life was squeezed out of him.

The sounds were seemingly corked by a wet smack ringing out.

Blitzø had taken one of the agents weapons, a large knife and had impaled the 'Human' through the lower stomach.

There was a long moment of silence, before the 'human' slowly turned to look at him with that same cold gaze.

Without releasing Stolas, he pulled his arm back and smacked Blitzø, sending him sliding back to his friends.

Reaching down, he grabbed the knife, yanking it out of his back without hesitation.

Nothing came from his wound, and when pulling the knife out, no blood stained it's blade.

With knife in hand, he released the owl, letting his pathetic form hit the ground, the owl desperately gasping for breath.

Leaning down, you grasped Stolas' wrist, the owl releasing a pathetic little gasp of pain, followed by a frail little whimper as the 'Human' slid the blade across his wrist.

But what came next left them all shocked.

Bringing his wrist to his mouth, he pressed his mouth down before greedily suckling the foul blood straight from his veins.

He drank down the demons fowl blood, not making a sound cept the muscles of his throat contracting to push the fowl liquid down his throat.

The demons black blood flowed down his throat. Every demon in the room just watched, to shocked to think and to fearful to do anything as you had your way with the Prince.

After a few minutes of the 'Father' drinking the demons blood, he finally released the demons wrist. The owl quickly clutching his wrist to his chest as he desperately clawing to get away from the 'human'.

The 'Father' stood there, panting as a demons black blood stained his lips.

When he finally opened his eyes, they held a Unholy glint to them.

Wiping his lips he walked forwards, calmly packing what few items had survived the fighting into his bag before Putting on his glasses and placing the small white band into his shirt collar.

Walking past the now cowering demon Prince, he leaned over and pressed one of the buttons on the dashboard, instantly the lights returned to normal.

Stepping before the group they awaited some sort of attack, or threat, what they got instead was a single phrase "Excuse me."

He said it so simply, each hellborne took a moment to make sure they'd heard correctly.

Each of them just stared for a moment before Millie spoke up, "What?"

The human raised a brow, lowering his glasses he asked again, this time his voice cold, threateningly cold, "Excuse me."

The demons awkwardly stepped to the side, giving him a clear path to walk.

Walking past them he gave them a slight nod, "Thank you."

The demons were all in shock, silently watching the 'human' walk away from them.

"That's it?" Blitzø asked before he could stop himself, quickly slamming his hands to his mouth.

The 'Father' stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder, he smiled, "Kill you later." He told them playfully, lowering his glasses and giving them a wink.

He walked away, the eerie sound of his shoes on cold tile floors permanently burned into there memory.

Hey Hey, I hope you enjoyed. I really wanted to try something a bit different. I had the idea for this in my head since episode 6 came out and I just really like the idea of an unknown entity showing up with either motive or intentions clear to anyone.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, I really wanna start writing more of my own original ideas, so expect more content in the future. Bye Bye.

[chrizbang]

Pairing: female reader x Seo Changbin x Bang Chan feat. Lee Felix

Genre: smut

Warnings: unprotected sex, foursome (kinda), the members have sex with each other, oral sex, swearing, anal sex, cream pie. This is very dirty.

Word count: 1.695

A/N: All credits goes to my friend @parachuuuus​ who had this idea hdfyihuasof  💖

“Do you want to fuck her, Changbin?”

Chan, 8:57 am: Can you come to my clinic today? At 9 pm?

Chan, 8:57 am: I have a new assistant and I need your help.

Y/N, 9:00 am: how am I going to help you? I’m not a doctor, lol

Chan, 9:01 am: Y/N…

Felix, 9:01 am: Can you come, please?

Y/N, 9:02 pm: bruh

Y/N, 9:03 pm: okay

“Who the fuck schedules a doctor’s appointment so late at night?” Felix asked.

“Hey, it was his idea, not mine, okay?”

You and Felix have been friends with benefits for a while. It started as an innocent friendship but it was hard to resist him since he was so handsome. Sometimes he would take you to places since he had a car and you didn’t and you would repay him by having sex with him. It was a win-win situation.

“Why are you all dressed up to a doctor’s appointment?” he asked, looking you up and down. “Are you excited to see Channie?”

“Oh, please. I know you have a crush on him as much as I do.” You rolled your eyes.

“I saw the dude one time at a party and said that he was cute and now I have a crush on him? Anyway, we are here.” Felix parked the car in front of the clinic.

“Thank you for driving me. You can leave if you want, I don’t know how long the medical appointment is going to be.”

“I think I’m going to a coffee shop nearby. Text me when you’re done.”

“Okay,” you said, smiling at him. You kissed his cheek and got out of the car.

For most people, going to the gynecologist was something unpleasant. Being naked and exposed in front of someone you are not close with is, understandably, disagreeable.

Not for you. Your doctor was Bang Chan, a handsome man, owner of the clinic and, also another friend with benefits of yours.

You still remember the first time you saw him. He welcomed you into his room. He was attentive and educated. You couldn’t stop blushing. Ever since, you had sex with him a few times, which doesn’t happen often since he’s really busy.

You talked to the lady at the reception and waited for your turn. You noticed that there was no one besides you in the clinic, probably because it was late.

You were excited, you shaved and you were wearing your best panties. You know that Chan was always professional but that didn’t stop you from looking good.

“Miss Y/N? You may come in,” the receptionist called you. You took a deep breath and got up, trying to keep calm.

“Hello, Y/N,” you heard him saying while you entered the room. He was sitting at the table, looking at something on his computer. When you were finally inside, you saw that there was someone else with him.

“This is Changbin, my assistant. He just graduated and he needs experience. Changbin, this is Y/N.”

“Hello,” you said, waving at Changbin, who simply nodded.

Changbin was standing next to Chan’s chair, he looked very shy and embarrassed. He was looking down and avoiding your eyes. You couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. He was a little shorter than Chan but as handsome as him. His thick arms looked like they would tear apart the sleeves of his coat. 

“Y/N, I need you to take off your pants and lay at the gynecological table, please,” Chan said.

You did as you were told, as much as you were a little embarrassed to be naked in front of them, you were also excited.

“Nice panties,” Chan remarked, making you blush.

You lay down there, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

“You can put your legs here, Y/N,” Chan suggested, touching the leg support at the table. You hesitated for a second but complied.

There you were, exposed for them.

Chan started to talk to Changbin about medical terms that you weren’t able to understand.

Suddenly, you felt Chan’s hand on your thigh. Just standing there while he talked. Sometimes he would squeeze your thigh, but all of his attention was on Changbin. You weren’t paying attention to their conversation but you were sure that you heard Chan say something along with the words “g-spot”.

“Why don’t you take a try?” Chan asked Changbin. He hesitated for a moment but got closer to the table.

“Excuse me,” Changbin whispered. You felt his cold hand touching your folds and you squirmed, startling him, who removed his hand immediately.

“Sorry,” he whimpered.

“It’s okay, it’s just that your hands are a little cold.” You assured him and Changbin went back to touching you.

It looked like he was exploring your private parts.

“Use this,” Chan commented, handing him a pack of lube.

Changbin poured some on your folds and you squirmed again.

“Ah, this is cold.”

“Sorry,” he apologized.

Changbin started to run his middle finger up and down on your lips, spreading out the lube. His finger would brush again your clit sometimes, which made you hold a moan. Then, he started to slide his finger into your hole. You looked at Chan and he watched everything closely, with a serious expression.

You wanted to laugh because it looked like anything but a simple doctor’s appointment.

“Bend your finger and try delicately pressing at the top wall of her pussy.”

“How will I know it is the g-spot?”

“It has a slightly rough texture than the rest of the wall.”

Changbin fingered you some more but he looked frustrated.

“I can’t do it,” he whined.

“Let me show you.” Chan stepped on his place and inserted his finger inside of you. It took seconds before you moaned, indicating that he found it.

“See? Keep trying, Changbin.” Chan took his finger out of you, making you whine because of the emptiness.

“Shh, you’re gonna get your reward soon,” he cooed at you.

Changbin started again, with a firmer touch. It took him some minutes but he finally found it.

“I think I did it,” he said after seeing you thrusting your hips against his finger.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned.

“Good job,” Chan praised him, making Changbin’s cheek go red.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he continued. “Do you want to fuck her, Changbin?”

Changbin’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard. “I-I don’t k-no-” “Don’t lie to me,” Chan scolded him. “I can see the erection in your pants.” Chan’s hands ran through your folds, collecting your wetness. “Do you want him to fuck you, Y/N?” You nodded. “Use your words,” he demanded. “Yes, I want him to fuck me,” you whined. “Get up and sit on the table.” You sat in the corner of the table with your legs hanging around. Changbin unbuttoned and lowered his pants. His dick slapped against his abdomen, dripping pre-cum. You watched while he approached you, holding on to your thighs. He opened your legs and licked his lips at the sight of your dripping pussy. He pumped his dick a few times before penetrating you slowly. You threw your head back, Changbin’s dick was average but thick. “Fuck,” you whined. Changbin immediately started thrusting on you at a frenetic pace. You tried to control your moans, afraid that the people outside the room would hear. Suddenly, you heard the sound of a belt hitting the floor. Chan was lowering his pants and freeing his dick. He got closer to Changbin and spread his cheeks, penetrating him. Changbin stopped pounding on you for a moment while he moaned, feeling Chan filling him up. “F-fuck, so good,” he whined when he started to move again. All the three of you stayed there, trying to muffle your moans.

Chan slid his hand under your t-shirt to grab your tits. “Take it off,” he growled. You took off your shirt and Chan pulled your bra down, exposing your tits. “So fucking hot,” Changbin moaned, bending over to lick your boobs, making Chan go deeper. “I-I’m gonna cum,” Changbin whispered. Not long after, he came inside of you, filling you. “Fuck, Changbin. Look at the mess you’ve made,” Chan teased. “Clean it up.” Changbin got on his knees and started to lick your pussy, tasting his own cum. “What the fuck is going on?” Felix questioned, opening the door. He went inside the clinic after noticing that you were taking too long to come back. The receptionist looked disinterested while she scrolled on her phone with her headphones on, so he went straight to Chan’s room when he heard you moaning. Everyone looked at each other, without any idea of what to say. “Do you want to join us?” you questioned Felix. “W-what? of course not,” Felix said. “Are you sure?” Chan insisted. Chan noticed that Felix was looking at this dick ever since he entered the room. “Come here,” he said, in a soft voice. Felix got closer to Chan, who told him to get on his knees. Chan grabbed his dick and put it in front of Felix’s mouth, who instantly started to suck it. At this point, Changbin went back to licking you. His tongue played with your clit until you came, moaning loudly. Chan demanded that Felix touched himself through his pants while he deep-throated him. It didn’t take long for both of them to cum. Felix swallowed all of Chan’s cum while he came in his pants. “Good boy,” Chan praised him. While you got dressed up, you noticed that Felix’s cheeks were bright red. You thought it was cute how embarrassed he got in front of Chan. “Thank you for your help, Y/N,” Chan said, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. He stayed with Changbin and they started to talk about something as if an orgy didn’t just happen in his room. You left with Felix, avoiding looking at the receptionist when you walked through the door. You sat in the car with Felix, who looked thoughtful. “Are you okay?” you asked. “When is your next doctor’s appointment? I’ll gladly take you.” You rolled your eyes and laughed. You knew the fun wasn’t over because you still had unfinished business with Felix.

[radioromantic-moved]

drabblecember: falling asleep somewhere that isn't the bed

finally had time to write and of course bernie had to be the first one with a fic. she deserves it. i know a drabble is supposed to be like. a couple hundred words but this is over 700 unfortunately </3 when the words flow they flow. (prompts list!)

summary: bernie and antigone the night of the ball (which apparently doesn't have a name? the‏‏‎ ‎white‏‏‎ ‎heron‏‏‎ ‎cup is just the associated event?)

There’s a knock at Bernadetta’s door. She startles, heartbeat speeding up. Oh, Goddess, I thought everyone was still at the ball! What if someone noticed I left early and I’m going to get in trouble? What if they think I’m not participating enough in Academy culture and I get expelled? I really really really don’t want to go home--

“Hey, Bernie. It’s just me. Sorry if I scared you.”

Her heart calms a little. It’s just Antigone. Reliable, kind, funny, admittedly-still-a-little-scary Antigone. She’s not getting expelled. (Tonight.)

“You doing okay?”

“I’m alright,” she manages to squeak out. “Just, you know…I--I’m really not good at these sorts of things, and there were just so many people and everything was so loud and it’s just so much calmer in here. S--sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. As long as you’re comfortable in there. If you wanted to come back to the party, I could save a dance for you, but if you need to take the rest of the evening to yourself, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Um. Y--you could come in, if you wanted?”

Antigone doesn’t say anything back right away, and Bernie panics. Oh, she’s really messed everything up this time, that was such a weird thing to say, why is she so weird all the time what is WRONG with her!

“I’d be happy to, as long as you’re okay with that.”

“Oh! Oh, um--okay, let me just unlock the door--”

She fumbles with her locks (she managed to get two extras installed) until the door swings open. Antigone steps inside and sits cross-legged on the floor. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be at the ball? You looked like you were having fun,” she says, sitting down next to them. It makes her nervous to look down to make eye contact with someone, but it also makes her nervous to look up to make eye contact with someone so in a perfect world she would just be the same height as everyone.

“I was! For a while there it was really nice! But after a few hours I just get kind of…all burned out on that stuff. Like you said. Too many people, too loud, all that. I was going to head home for the night, but I saw you had left and I wanted to make sure you were feeling okay.”

“I…I didn’t know stuff like that happened to you,” Bernie says slowly. “You always seem so…cool. And put together and exciting! You seem like you’d be the life of the party.”

An image rises quickly into her mind of Dorothea laughing at a joke Antigone told earlier in the evening and kissing their cheek. It makes her chest tighten uncomfortably, and she tries to ignore it. 

Antigone laughs a bit. “I know, right? You’d think! But the thing is…I like dancing, and getting dressed up fancy and all, but after spending a lot of time surrounded by other people I always find myself wishing I was alone with a book or some new invention. It doesn’t mean I don’t like them, just means…I need my own space sometimes.”

“Huh,” Bernie says softly. 

She smiles.

Antigone runs their fingers through their hair. “Do you mind if I take off this suit jacket? I’ve got on underclothes and all that--this isn’t a proposition, I’d never proposition you--just didn’t realize I was sweaty until now and now the texture’s making me wanna gnaw off my arms.”

“T--that’s okay,” stammers Bernie, a little caught up on the very suggestion that anyone would proposition her.

Antigone slides their jacket off. “That’s better,” they sigh.

Their eyes flit to a book half-hidden under her bed. “Whoa, is that the first book in the Frost Diamond Chronicles? I didn’t know you read those!”

“I didn’t know you did!”

“Bernie, at this point I’ve practically worked my way through‏‏‎ ‎Garreg‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎Mach’s whole library. Ask me about any title and I will have an opinion.”

She takes them up on their offer. 

It’s nearly an hour later that the conversation slows, and then no more words are spoken at all as Antigone leans their head on Bernie’s shoulder. She tenses at the physical contact, but it’s only half out of fear and half out of a strong, terrible desire for human connection she didn’t realize was quite so extreme until just now. 

As gently as she can, she tugs a blanket down from her bed and wraps it around the both of them. Then, slowly, gently, every-so-slightly shakily, she rests her head on Antigone’s.

As the lantern burns out, the two students fall asleep.

[blushnote]

↳ requested | 1.6k words

↳ dom!wonwoo smut

a/n: HELLO. i’m sure everyone is wondering what’s going on and WHY i’ve been absent for a few months. put simply: things got hectic and i needed a break! i’m not saying i’ll jump back into being completely active again, but that i’m going to come on as often as i can! (which might be every few days or so! i apologize!!)

as a treat for everyone - this features rich girl wonwoo! <3 

wonwoo stands at the street pole, conversing with his friends. the bar is unusually crowded. mostly likely because it’s a friday and there isn’t much else the townspeople would rather do than get plastered, forgetting the atrocities of work. his friend extends a box of cigarettes to wonwoo, offers him one, but he shakes his head.

since getting involved with you, wonwoo has attempted to forfeit smoking. it has always been something he’s done to pass the time at the street corner. plus, he likes the idea of blowing a big, stinging cloud right into someone’s face when they give him attitude. 

instead wonwoo suckles on a lollipop that tastes like an artificially sweet strawberry, pushes up the bridge of his glasses, and folds some silvery hair under his beanie. he knows it’s about the right time for you to be returning from that dinner party your parents forced you into attending.

as wonwoo’s friend exaggerates a tale about getting into a fist-driven confrontation at a bus stop last week, someone strutting by on the packed street bumps wonwoo’s shoulder.

“choose a better place to stand.” the stranger rumbles, agitated.

wonwoo flicks up his middle finger indifferently. “fuck off.” he grunts, the fog of his breath appearing in the night air.

he’s feeling sort of agitated himself. your parents have tethered you to a leash lately, forcing you to all these fancy gatherings and opening ceremonies and dinners. to put it frankly – wonwoo misses you. your laugh, your eyes, the texture of your skin, your voice in his ear. he’s been wanting an excuse to get his hands all over you. every single inch.

that’s when he hears the ding in his jacket pocket. looking away from the dramatic enactment involving his friend driving a fist into his palm, wonwoo checks his phone to see a text from you. a series of images.

23:28 // JPEG.1034

23:28 // JPEG.1035

23:28 // JPEG. 1036

the three pictures load. he chokes on his breath.

23:28 // i know u don’t like when i spoil my lingerie but.

23:28 // don’t i look so cute :( so fuckable?? im srry but I had to :(

his teeth crack the strawberry lollipop into sugary shards in his mouth. that lace is squeezing your flesh in all the right places. the picture with your fingers splayed teasingly over your underwear, hiding your core, it’s enough to make him shudder, salivate even. he’s officially ignoring his friend’s story by tapping a reply, fiddling with the thin stick in his mouth.

(ww) 23:30 // u free now? head to my place.

he receives an answer immediately.

23:30 // hmmm why?

(ww) 23:30 // u know why. don’t act like such a brat.

already, wonwoo can sense the desire form inside him. pounding almost. like a second heartbeat. you’re usually compliant and bending to his carnal whims. maybe all this time away from each other has you forgetting just how well wonwoo can fuck that stubbornness out.

23:30 // it’s new. i don’t want u ripping anything!!

(ww) 23:30 // idc.

23:30 // so mean!! not even gonna let u touch me now :-)

(ww) 23:30 // yeah. ok. we’ll see about it then.

after sliding his phone back in his pocket, wonwoo glances briefly in through the bar window. he sees a bartender pour a glass full of ice cubes before sloshing in a surge of alcohol. at that, wonwoo gets an idea. when his friends question about why he’s leaving so suddenly, he smirks.

“need to teach someone how to behave.” wonwoo shrugs before jogging quickly across the street.

“i’m not gonna tell you again. keep your fuckin’ thighs spread nice and wide for me or else i won’t let you cum – not even once. you understand?”

a harsh dip in your stomach suggests the breath you just inhaled. after a moment of silence, he hears you comply, and watches with his hungry, intent gaze as your legs part open for him. wonwoo has been teasing you with a bowl of ice cubes. at first, he held them to your nipples, had you whimpering into his mouth while he simultaneously rubbed his tongue against yours. but the real fun began when he introduced the ice cubes to your lower region. it was a very different punishment compared to his past endeavours, a tantalizing one.

wonwoo returns the cube to the nook of your inner thigh, then creeps it slowly toward your core. you’re beginning to tremble with the restraint required to not snap your legs shut. the ice cube ghosts transiently up your slit, a contact you had yet to experience, and a beautiful gasp tears from your lungs. he swears that you leak even more onto the sheets.

he takes the cube away, then drags his warm tongue from the bottom of your pussy right to the top, delivering a slow, flat lick which tastes sweet and cold and makes him so unbelievably dizzy with how much he loves it.

“w-wonwoo, please, pl-please keep going.” you stutter, opening your thighs even wider to invite his tongue.

he shakes his head. “what else did i tell you? don’t ask me to do anything. you’ll lie there and you’ll fuckin’ take it.” smiling, wonwoo issues a tight grip on the ice cube and presses it right into your clit. you whine sharp and loud, your hands traveling all over your body in confusion, not sure if it’s more pleasure than pain, or a hot mix of both.

“or are you still interested in acting like such a brat, hm?” wonwoo utters in his deep voice. “ like a smug little princess who thinks she can tease me whenever she wants and she’ll still get my cock all the way inside her? nice and full, just how she likes it. is that it, babygirl?”

he feels the ice melt under his fingers. you can hardly piece together a response, just a very incoherent, “no wonwoo” as tears start slipping down your cheeks. wonwoo takes the cube away, then massages your clit with his thumb, warming you up slowly. a few jolts pass through your body. he can tell you’re falling apart inside with how badly you want to cum, though wonwoo had strictly told you to hold it. he rubs and rubs and rubs, barking at you to control yourself, your pussy so slippery with arousal that it’s running all down your skin and wetting the bed.

right when he feels you’re about to snap, wonwoo completely removes his touch. you wail at that, suckle in a shaky breath and cry his name.

“please, wonwoo! i-i’m sorry, m’soso sorry! i’m sorry for acting so bratty and sending those pictures, t-teasing you like that! but i just c-ccan’t take this anymore. treat me however you want, but please let me cum!”

he’s truly missed the sound of you begging for him. his cock twitches in his pants, reminding him of how hard he currently is. each time you cry the boy’s name in such a lewd manner, there’s another surge of pleasure and he aches even more, to the point where he could cum just from touching himself over his clothes. still, wonwoo must ensure you’ve really learned your lesson. so, he offers you a deal. he’ll get to watch you pleasure yourself with the ice cube until he cums.

and so wonwoo sits in a chair based at the end of the bed, a hand stuffed down his pants, watching you swirl an ice cube at your sensitive core. he guides you every now and then: “hold it right there, pretty baby. let it melt all the way down. that’s it, sweetheart. n-now rub it, okay? f-finger yourself too. nnrgh, f-fuck. fuck you sound so wet. m’gonna c-cum—”

his strokes lash faster until wonwoo’s head rolls back against the chair, his eyes blinking shut while he chases his high. he hears you continue to whine as he cums, his cock throbbing in his hand, still so hard and heavy. in fact, wonwoo requires a moment just to breathe and let the heat circulate properly through his body.

with his fingers covered in the sticky mess of his cum, wonwoo approaches the bed again, fingering it as deep as he can inside you. he’s unable to remove his gaze from the filthy sight. there’s something so raw and intimate about watching his own seed getting pumped into you that sets his whole body aflame. he decides to let you orgasm as well, stimulating your g-spot consistently, letting you clamp down tight and ride his hand until you’ve got a full fix.

wonwoo supposes he’s done his job.

“i don’t think i’ll ever be able to look at an ice cube the same way again.” you laugh, sitting back against the headboard, tucked into his t-shirt.

drawing a warm washcloth between your thighs, wonwoo blinks at you, a very sly grin forming on his mouth. he plants a kiss on your nose.

“good. means it worked.” the boy says.

he folds the cloth over and finishes the last of his cleaning, ensuring there’s nothing more of his fluids that are still leaking out or anything sticking from your orgasm. grabbing your overnight bag off the floor, wonwoo pulls out a fresh pair of underwear and helps you slide into them. your lingerie sits in a pile off to the side, a few lace straps ripped.

“sorry about your little outfit.” wonwoo apologizes, staring at you earnestly. “it was pretty. you look good in everything.” he squeezes your hip and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“it’s okay.” you murmur. “i’ll order something even better. and i’ll surprise you with it. maybe for your birthday. sound good?”

“mmhm.” wonwoo purrs, pulling you down with him to cuddle up close for the night.

“as long as i can take it off you, sweetheart, i’m fine with that.”

[mypoisonedvine]

idk of you take dark stuff or even accept concepts/hc’s but i can’t stop thinking about dark steve and dark bucky & threatening 🥴🥴 like when ur bratty and one of them just grabs you by the neck and when you struggle he’s like “keep squirming and ill snap this little neck. you know it’ll be easy for me” 🥴🥴

yes and yes my friend, this is amazing omgggg pls hold while i write a casual ficlet nbd.  watch out for noncon, knifeplay, creampie kink (unwanted creampie? it’s more likely than you think.), choking, spitroast, degradation... it’s filthy yall

you KNOW they have no patience for brattiness, period

and they’ve been watching you for a while now.  they’re very interested in you for a few reasons: (1) you’re adorable, (2) you’ve got this innocent air about you, like girls used to be in their time, and (3) you’re clearly a spoiled brat and they can’t resist the urge to tame you

ever since you joined the team you had been clearly in need of some discipline

you weren’t much of a team player and you liked doing things your way, even if it meant disobeying orders from your captain and sergeant

occasionally you would run directly into harm’s way and it made them both angry because they were just trying to keep you safe but you refused their protection

why didn’t you understand that you needed them to take care of you?

“listen,” you let them know with crossed arms, “I appreciate everything you guys try to do for me--”

bucky winced at that.

“--but I don’t need your help, okay?  I’m a big girl.  I can handle myself.”

steve laughed incredulously.

“yeah right, you’ve got a bullet hole in your arm that says otherwise.”

“if it was in my chest, then we would be having a conversation about protection,” you frowned. “it’s in my arm because--"

“if it was in your chest, we wouldn’t be having a conversation at all,” bucky corrected.

you shrugged.  “but it’s not, so it’s none of your business.”

you turned to leave but you were stopped by a metal arm grabbing your jaw and roughly turning you around.  you yelped and tried to push him away but he was so much stronger than you.

“it’s my business because you’re my soldier,” bucky growled.

“I understand you’re not used to being part of a team,” steve chimed in, stepping closer to where you were helplessly pushing against bucky’s chest.  “allow us to clarify a few things that you still don’t seem to understand.”

his hands started to undo your tactical vest, all while bucky watched with the darkest eyes you’d ever seen.  normally he was stern, but kind.  now both of them were like two entirely different people.

“w-what are you doing?” you asked nervously and bucky just smiled.

“you need to learn a lesson about consequences, bucky and I are in dire need of a morale boost,” steve informed you with a low voice right by your ear, “it’s two birds with one stone.”

once the vest was on the floor, bucky flipped you around and held you to his chest with the metal arm around your neck.  as steve reached for the waistband of your pants, you kicked wildly and actually managed to land one in his side; he stepped back with rage building in his eyes.

“looks like we’re going to have to cut these clothes off.  if you keep fighting it’s going to do you a lot more damage than me.”

bucky’s free hand reached down and grabbed the knife strapped to his thigh; he ran the blade lightly along your jaw and neck, laughing at your whimpers of fear.

“where’d that fire go, sweetheart?  what happened to that reckless attitude that’s nearly gotten us all killed before?”

steve watched with crossed arms and a smug grin as bucky used the knife to slice down the front of your tank top.  the stretchy fabric pulled to either side as soon as he was done cutting, and your sports bra was exposed.  he delicately slid the knife right into your cleavage, and with one forceful movement up and outwards, it was cut in two.

you felt your face burning as steve shamelessly stared at your tits.  bucky tossed the knife to steve who caught it without even looking away from you.

steve stepped right up to you and stared into your eyes as you tried to keep on a tough face, though everything in you was desperate to look away.  all of a sudden, he knelt down and began cutting your leggings open.

bucky’s flesh hand groped one of your tits and it made you wish you had the strength to slam your elbow back into his ribs and get out of here.  you knew you could get some hits in but you would never get very far; they were super soldiers and you were... just a soldier.  their soldier, as they were so crudely reminding you at the moment.  you couldn’t escape but at least if you obeyed, you could probably save yourself from further punishment.

the shreds that had once been your leggings fell to the floor and all that was left was your underwear.  steve could’ve just pulled them down your legs but that wouldn’t have been as fun.  instead, he looked up at you with an eager glimmer in his eye, slipping the knife delicately between the fabric and your skin, slicing them off and watching them fall to the floor.

your naked body rubbing up against the rough fabric of bucky’s tactical gear was uncomfortable, but not quite as uncomfortable as his hard-on pressing into your ass, or the way he leaned forward and bit your earlobe.

“you win, okay?  you wanted to scare me, I’m scared as fuck, we can all go home now,” you rushed, trying to lighten the mood a little and give them what they wanted.

bucky laughed.  “oh honey, we don’t wanna scare you.  we wanna fuck you.  now stay still...”

you started kicking again; you couldn’t help it.  your body refused to just lay back and allow this to happen.  

“stop fucking squirming,” bucky hissed right into your ear as steve started to undress, apparently already sure this was going to happen even as you were determined to make sure it didn’t.  “I could snap this tiny little neck and it wouldn’t be any skin off my nose.  do you know how easy it would be for me, to break your fucking neck?”

you ignored him, still fighting; his other arm reached around and held your hips against him.  

“I asked you a fucking question,” he growled.  “answer or I’ll hurt you.”

you weakly nodded.

“glad we’re on the same page.  now go suck his cock,” he commanded, dropping you on the ground.

you sheepishly looked up to see steve naked and glaring at you with his cock in his hand.  you tried to get up but he shook his head disapprovingly.  “no baby, you need to crawl to me.”

you felt beyond humiliated but you crawled across the floor on your hands and knees to where steve was standing with a smile that blended pride with sadistic pleasure.  you could just tell bucky was watching you as he started to undress as well.

you had barely opened your mouth before steve was shoving it into your mouth and down your throat.  he used fistfuls of your hair to roughly pull you on and off of him until you didn’t even understand what you were supposed to be doing.  you just stayed still and tried to breathe, letting him fuck your face and trying not to listen to the gurgling and choking noises you made.

steve suddenly pulled out and yanked your hair until you were looking up at him.  you looked a right mess: hair tangled from his rough movements, eyes and nose red from choking, spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin.

“aw baby, you’re such a slut for your captain aren’t you?”

“fuck you,” you managed to growl despite your throat burning through every word.  

you felt bucky’s hands behind you running over your back and your hips, tracing shapes on your thighs...

“looks like this hole still doesn’t understand who it belongs to,” steve frowned as he stuck three fingers into your mouth, watching your cheeks stretch out from the inside.

“but this hole does,” bucky added as he shoved two fingers into your pussy.  and he was right; you were wet, nearly dripping.  you tried to protest but it was lost as steve wrapped a hand around your neck.

bucky rubbed his cock against your opening and you tensed up, but you had no shot of getting away as he held your hips against his, sliding his cock through your folds with a groan.

“when I take this hand off your throat, you’re going to beg your sergeant to fuck you.  because if you don’t, the hand’s gonna stay on until you pass out, got it?”

you nodded, desperate for air.  when he let go, you gasped and quickly sputtered: “please fuck me, sergeant!”

bucky grinned and pushed his cock into you, sighing at how tight you were.  

you winced but tried to avoid showing any signs of weakness.  it didn’t help much, though, because steve was shoving his cock back into your mouth and had somehow gotten even rougher, groaning as his cock hit your throat.

“when I come you’d better swallow it all,” steve hissed, “and thank me.”

it wasn’t much longer until he did, and you tried not to retch as his come coated the back of your throat.  the texture made you want to gag even more than you already were.

he pulled out and you swallowed thickly, looking up at him.  “t-thank you, captain.”

“for..?”

“thank you for coming in my throat,” you mumbled.

steve smiled approvingly, slapping you a few times lightly on the face in some weird form of congratulations.

“fuck, you’re so tight-- I’m already close,” bucky groaned after a few more minutes, his head falling back as he fucked into you faster and more erraticly.

“n-not inside,” you stammered through your haze.

“didn’t we already establish that this is my pussy?  ‘m gonna do whatever the fuck I want to it.”

“bucky, I’m not on anything!” you protested, trying once again to get away.

steve slapped your face with a loud pop! 

“you call him ‘sergeant,’ and it doesn’t matter what you’re on or not.  he’s gonna do what he wants with you, understand?”

you whimpered but nodded, fearing what would happen if you gave any more dissent.

“fuck!” bucky groaned as he spilled inside you; you could feel his cock twitch against your walls, and with his size it felt like you were being pushed to impossible limits.

when he pulled out and let go of your hips, you fell to the floor in exhaustion.

“see?  you can be a good girl, with just a little effort,” steve praised.  you weren’t even paying attention, too distracted by bucky using two metal fingers to push his come back into you as it leaked out.

“keep up the good behavior and we won’t have to punish you again,” bucky explained sternly.  “don’t you want to be good for us?”

you nodded and they both smiled.

bucky kissed your cheek and it was so sweet, so unfitting for the situation. “such a good girl, and all thanks to us.  we should’ve trained you this way ages ago.”

[macksracks]

Eve grabbed the other’s hand and pulled her out of her room. Nothing about her plans would go wrong. Everything would be fine.

“Are you sure this is going to be alright? Someone might notice we’re gone, Evie,” Sylvia said, watching the other from behind as she is dragged outside.

“Yes, the royals won’t miss us for a bit. They’re too busy glaring heated daggers at each other from across the room anyways.” Eve grimaced, shaking her head as they walked. Honestly. The tension between the two of them was absurd.

Once outside of the castle and into the outer halls along the sides, she let go of her hand and stepped behind her. Raising her hands, she pressed them onto Sylvia’s back and pushed her forward at a faster pace while laughing, “You’re so slow, Come on!” She then paused her words, considering. “You should chase me. It’ll be fun!”

Sylvia leaned back against her hands as she walked, looking over her shoulder to look at Eve. “You want me to chase you? Someone could see u-” She didn’t have time to finish her sentence before her friend shoved her forwards and took off running in front of her. 

Eve laughed as she ran, almost stumbling a little as she checked behind herself to see if Sylvia was following, which she was. In fact, she was full sprinting in at her. Whipping her head back around to watch where she was going, she began sprinting down the hall. 

She ran, hearing very clearly the sounds of someone chasing her. As they played their small game, they were coming up on her secret path to her spot. It would be a hard left, which left room to slip and fall since their shoes offered no traction right then.

There was no choice. Eve had to do it. Hitting the corner sharp, she scrambled a little, but got up quickly and returned to her sprint away from Sylvia. The other girl hit the corner even sharper, but she grabbed onto a limb so she swung around more easily without falling down. Eveline heard her laugh behind her, "You know I'm going to get you, Evie. It's inevitable, my dear." 

"As if!" she called back, being sure to dodge outstanding limbs and roots in her path. Having to focus on the terrain, Eve laughed breathily as the lake came into view down the path. It was the final stretch. She pushed herself harder, to the point where she almost falls a few times as she runs. She can hear her friend behind her running harder as well, and what sounded like getting closer footsteps.

Thud.

Eve hit the ground hard just as she reached the bank of the lake, being tackled by her companion. She wheezed as she tried to catch her breath again. Sylvia was on top of her back, laughing as she laid there.

After a few minutes of this, Eve finally caught her breath enough to speak again. "Get off of me, you foul ginger demon," she said, moving to push Syl off.

The redhead just laughed more, but relented and rolled off of her into the textured ground of the lakeside pebbles. "You know that I'd get you. Why would you do that?" She questioned, looking over at her partner. 

Eve grinned in response, pushing herself onto the backs of her hands. Looking down at her clothes, they were now very obviously dirtied and with a quick glance at Sylvia's, hers were exactly the same. Dirtied up. "Now we're going to have to change before we go back, Sylvie. Look at what you've done now."

She raised her hands in defense of herself and enunciated her accent more, "I did no such thing. I was provoked, miss. I'm innocent in this matter." As she spoke, she watched Eveline with careful eyes, as if painting her on a little portrait in their mind.

Eve hummed, looking at the other softly. Ginger hair she adored to run her hands through. Freckles every which way on her face that she wants to kiss each individually for days. Softly curved jaw that she loves.

The feelings she felt for her were strong, beating within her own heart. It felt like it might overwhelm her and her senses. It was a torrential downpour of a feeling so strong it could drown her from the inside out.

That wasn't the point though. She couldn't. Not again, anyways. They had already kissed once, when she was very in her right mind while under the influence. Then there was the time when they were both under the influence, but it was obvious both were fine with it.

They were beginning to toe the line in the sand between whatever they were. They were certainly more than friends, however it was even clearer that they weren't officially anything. A thought that bothered Eve quite honestly. *What were they?* She didn't know.

Slowly pushing herself off the ground and back upright on her feet, Eve brushed her hands off on her dirty skirt. She reached down and held her hand out for Sylvia, who took her offer and together they pulled her up. 

Once up, they stared at each other for a few seconds, maybe a minute. Just looking at each other. Eventually, Eve smiled and looked away, over to where her little setup was.

Leading her by the hand once more, she took them over to her spot. Small canvases and paint all lay around in the area. She let go of Syl's hand and sat down on the cloth. After she gestured to a spot next to her, the other sat down gracefully.

"I couldn't find you your normal instrument, but I did find this lyre, which if I remember right you play. I hope you play-" she cuts herself off, as she just holds out the lyre in question to Sylvia.

Syl reached out and took it, looking it over. "This will work perfectly fine, Evie. Do not worry," she smiled at her friend and lightly played a small chord. She nodded, clearly satisfied with the quality of it.

Once Eve was sure that Syl would not mind the lyre, she picked up her own small canvas. Angling herself to face her, she took her brush and slowly began to paint the lake in front of her. Of her dearest plucking notes and chords, creating a wondrous melody at the tips of her fingers.

They remained like this for a while as the sun slowly began its descent below the horizon. Her fiery hair set ablaze in the setting sun’s light. The golden hour made her look like a goddess of the sun, right where she belonged.

Eveline could just reach out and set her painting down, then lean forward as her hand smashes into the painting accidentally as she would have readjusted herself forward with little hesitation. 

Sylvia would look up and smile, setting the lyre to the side of her. Her hands would come up and cup Eve's face, and everything would be alright. Everything would be as it should be.

So she did. She set down the painting and slipped in it a little as she set her hands down. She leaned forward and Sylvia did her part. Set down the lyre and cupped her cheeks in her hand.

They met together a third time.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Enough, For Now

CW: Sickfic, sick whumpee, feverish whumpee, shock collar, brief VERY vague emeto reference, child of whumpee POV, intimate/creepy whumper, noncon touching (nonsexual), noncon kiss (brief)

Jax Gallagher belongs to @comfy-whumpee and is used with their permission.

"Oh, honey."

The little girl watches around the doorframe as her mother lays a soft hand over her father’s forehead. Her mother’s hair is a waterfall of darkness, the air between the trees on a starless night in the woods behind the house. Her father's is more like tree bark in sunlight, when she doesn't need to worry about what might be hiding in the woods, when they are allowed outside and she can run her fingers over the roughened texture and smell the air. 

Sometimes, her father’s necklace - the thick black band he wears that her mother uses to hurt him - is changed so they can go into the woods. He carries her little brother, who is still a baby, and she walks alongside him proud to help carry things, and the three of them are alone with the whisper of the woods around them.

She saw a bluebird, once, singing. Her father had smiled, just a little, at the flutter of wings when she got too close and it took flight.

He’s not smiling now.

Her father lays on his side on the bathroom floor, his cheek pressed to the impeccably clean black-and-white tiles. His face is flushed and there’s a thin film of sweat sticking his shirt to the curves of his shoulders and stomach. It makes him shine under the gentle warm light even as he shivers, compulsively. When her mother’s hand touches his head, he tenses, just a little, but he still can’t stop shivering. "Miss S-Savvie-"

“Look at you.” Her mother’s voice is simpering-sweet, syrupy, like the maple syrup that her father pours on pancakes when they are alone in the mornings when her mother is out of the house. “Poor thing. I suppose this is because I took you to that party last week, isn’t it? You must have picked something up while we were there.”

The little girl remembers - a swirl of colorful dresses and jewelry, too many adults in too small a space. Everyone wanted to congratulate her mother on getting out of the house just a few months after Jamie was born. A person with a thin smile, who was impossibly elegant, had said her mother’s dress was lovely in a voice that didn’t seem like they meant it. Then they’d looked down at her, and something in their severity had softened.

They’d asked to take the little girl to play with their own child, who was in her bedroom because grown-up parties are pretty boring.

It had been fun, although she had been nervous to be away from her father so long, leaving him without her in the throngs of people and all the perfumes in the air. He’d been nervous, too, happy to sweep her into his arms at the end of the night and carry her to the car with her head on his shoulder, her mother’s hand at the small of his back.

Like a family.

Now, though, her father is sick, and her mother’s eyes are brilliant and sparkling as she presses two fingers into the space just underneath his ear, just behind his jaw. In a real family, the little girl thinks, maybe the mom doesn’t look happy to see the dad is too sick to move. He makes a sound almost like a whine, barely escaping, and the little girl swallows. Her own heart races to see how hard he works to open his eyes. 

“Swollen lymph nodes,” Her mother murmurs. “Jax, did you manage to get the flu from someone? Honestly, sweetie, the first time you’ve gone out with me in two months and you get sick immediately?”

He turns his head to look up at Savvie, and the little girl doesn’t understand it exactly, but she loves the profile of his face because it is her father’s profile, the line of his nose and neck. His hazel eyes are fogged-over and hazy as he moves, and he might nuzzle into her hand, or he might simply hold still and her mother’s hand was already there. 

Then he jerks away, just as quickly, and the little girl goes still and her heart stops with fear - he isn’t allowed to pull away, he isn’t allowed to not smile at her touch, he’ll be in so much trouble. Just as her mother’s eyes go wide their sparkle changes to sunlight off the darkest, deepest ice, Jax begins to cough.

The coughs wrack his body, and he barely covers his mouth. By the time it stops, the first hints of anger have fled her mother’s expression and it has softened again. She sighs and rubs at his back, in soothing soft circles. He drops his hands and turns back to her, a slight half-smile playing on his face, gone, back again.

Wavering, like he’s struggling to remember how to make it.

“‘M sorry, Miss… Miss Savvie,” He says, voice rasping and hoarse. “I-I’m not exactly sure… when I started to feel like this, but…”

Two days ago, the little girl knows. For two sleeps straight, her father’s body has been strange - too hot to the touch, and his hugs have been timid, as though he hurt too much inside to hug as fiercely as he usually did. 

She knows. And he knows.

They don’t tell her mother.

He’s been on the bathroom floor all night. The little girl had found him there when she woke up - not in the big bathroom, but this smaller one in the hall next to her room - and had run to get her mother in her grand bedroom. 

She never ever went in her mother’s room unless she was allowed to or asked, but she’d been so scared when he barely moved at her shaking his shoulder that she had forgotten the rule. He had laid there so pale and listless, collapsed on the cold floor. 

For once, Savvie had not been angry. Instead, she had followed the little girl and told her to wait outside. For a few moments, Savvie had held her hand the way her father usually did, and the little girl had felt… like this was her mother.

But then… then she’d seen Jax. As always, in the little girl's life, the second her mother saw her father, the girl herself was forgotten. Her hand was dropped and she was told to stay out. So the little girl is left on the outside looking in, fingers curled around the doorframe, watching them together.

Her mother's pale pink chemise has a white lace trim that lays across her bare thigh, and her rounded nails are a soft deep mauve as she sighs and moves to kneel, touching his face just at his cheekbone, brushing it with the backs of her knuckles. She smiles, sweet and soft and loving. "It's not your fault, Jax. My poor sweet husband."

Jax only looks up at her, his hazel eyes glimmering and barely focused. But he looks only at her. 

Even sick, he knows not to look away. 

"But... why did you come all the way out here, honey?" Both her hands are on him now, one cupping his face and the other slipping behind his head, to lift it gently off the floor. "Oh, you're so sweaty. Gross.” Savvie's nose wrinkles, a little, and the little girl wonders if her own nose looks like that.

She hopes not.

"Got… Got sick." Her father breathes and it sounds wrong, somehow, too much air or not enough. "Didn't w-want to wake you. You have… an interview today." He coughs again, and Savvie has to let go for him to roll onto his side again and get the awful sounds out. 

Savvie's smile widens. Her blue eyes shine so bright. "How thoughtful," She says, and runs her fingers through the damp strands of his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, again and again. It looks like petting an animal, not trying to be kind to a man. 

If he likes the touch or not, she can't tell. She thinks sometimes he hates every single one. 

“Thought I’d feel b-better afterward,” He says, rough-voiced, eyes closed tightly. “Don’t.”

"Oh, sweetie." Savvie smiles and leans down, presses a kiss to his hair. He holds perfectly still for it. He doesn't even breathe. "I don't deserve you," She whispers, just loud enough for the little girl to hear. "But I'll love you forever anyway. Forever, Jax.”

His eyes open again, turning to look over her face as she pulls away, as though he’s checking for something, searching there. Whatever he finds, he relaxes, just a little. "Love you too, Miss Savvie," He says, and the little girl hears that it is flat, compared to how sometimes he hugs the little girl and says nice things to her. "Need… I just need a minute."

“Of course, darling. We’ll move you downstairs once you think you can walk.” Savvie keeps her fingers moving through his hair, sweaty or not. 

His gaze shifts a little, and he sees the little girl for the first time. He tenses, eyes widening only slightly. "Is-..." He clears his throat. Both of them freeze at how close he comes to the nickname neither of them wants her to know. "Isabella? Why are you-"

"She woke me up," Savvie says, and slides to her knees, slipping her arms around him and carefully helping him to sit up. He leans heavily against her, so heavily Savvie nearly loses her balance, but she manages not to land in an undignified heap. “She saw you and came to get me. She knew you needed my help.”

The girl would have gone to anyone else, if there were anyone. But they’re here alone, and she isn’t allowed to touch the medicine. 

One day, when she’s big enough, she will get him medicine all by herself and she won’t tell her mom anything at all.

“Thank-... thank you, Isabella,” Her father says, in this new sick-voice he has, and when he looks at her, for just a second some of the haze in his eyes is clear. He’s looking at her. It’s only for a second, before he turns back to her mother, and the little girl stores up the way he looked right at her, to save for later times when she is alone. He turns back to Savvie and says, “And th-thank you for coming, Miss Savvie.”

“Of course, sweetie.” Savvie shifts, and the little girl watches as the two of them very slowly stand, Jax working to get his legs under him, standing finally in a way that seems tentative, ready to tip back over at the slightest nudge. His eyes close and his face greys, and the three of them are briefly silent, waiting it out, until the dizziness passes and his eyes open again. “You’re right, though. I do have that interview, and I can’t just be thinking about you, I need to plan… let’s get you downstairs for today. I’ll bring James down once you’re settled.”

There’s a pause, full of meaning and thought the girl doesn’t know how yet to read. “Can… can H-Hannah come to watch them with m-me, or Isaac’s steward, please?” He rarely speaks so many words all at once, unless they’re alone in the sunshine room, where he tells her all the stories about his own family, far far away across an ocean. 

Those are the secret stories, the ones that the little girl knows to never let her mother know she’d heard of. 

He’s not supposed to think about his other family anymore. Her mother says that she made that rule so he wouldn’t leave the little girl and her brother. He never wanted you, anyway. If I told him he could, he’d walk right out the door and leave us all heartbroken, Isabella. So we have to make sure he never thinks of them, so he can’t leave us.

The little girl is scared that her father might leave, if he could. That her mother’s words are true. But she loves the way he smiles when he tells his stories much, much more than she is scared - and he has promised her, over and over with his arms around her, that he would never leave her here alone.

Now, though, Savvie just rolls her eyes. “Honestly, Jax. How is my uncle’s household supposed to stay in order if you keep trying to steal away half his staff?” 

They’re near the door and the girl backs away quickly to stay out of their way, not quite ignored but not needed, either. She watches them move, her mother’s arm around her father’s waist to help him stay upright, and the way he moves so carefully, so slowly, beside her. 

The medicine is in the cabinet in the bathroom, but her mother doesn’t go back for it. Instead, she leads Jax away entirely, towards the grand curving staircase that moves down to the ground floor. The little girl watches, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before she realizes what’s happening.

An interview day. 

That means her father will spend the day in the basement where no one can hear him - that must be where her mother is taking him, to be hidden away. The little girl licks nervously at her lips, and then flies back into the bathroom. There isn’t anything she can stand on in here, but when she climbs up on the side of the bathtub, she can grab the sink and hold, arms shaking with effort as she pulls herself up. 

The cabinet opens for her easily, as she totters, barely balanced on the rounded, shining edge of the sink. Their voices are fading as they move downstairs, her mother’s voice mostly. 

Almost entirely.

The little girl finds what she’s looking for - the last time her father was sick, he was allowed a packet of these little discs that come inside a box. The girl can’t read, but she knows the sun and moon signs on the packages, one for day and one for night. She grabs the whole thing, and then looks down, ready to climb-

Oh.

Oh, it’s farther down than she thought.

Her heart shivers in fear - but sometimes you have to do scary things, her father says it all the time when he tells her he is proud of her after her mother locks her in the dark for time out. This is a scary thing, but-

She jumps.

She crashes hard into the tile floor and lets out a high-pitched cry of pain, rolling along the ground. A bright ache flashes in her knee and arm from how she landed, and she presses her lips together to silence any further sounds. They’re swallowed into whimpers that don’t make it further than the door.

Still, she hears her father call, “Isabella?” He’s worried, he heard her, and the little girl stands back up, clutching the box of medicine with white knuckles on her small hands. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay!” She calls back, voice shaky, but she tries to sound fine. It will be much worse for her if her mother thinks she wants attention she’s not supposed to have.

“See? She’s fine,” Savvie says, and their steps fade again. The little girl moves with a focus rarely seen in small children to her room, where she picks up a soft little-kid backpack that is pink and lacey. Her mother picked it. She hates it. In the backpack she stashes some crackers and juice, and on top she puts her favorite stuffed animal, and some crayons. Finally, she forces in a coloring book. Then she moves out into the hall.

Her brother isn’t awake yet, no sound from his room, so she moves like a ghost down the staircase, following her parents to the closet with the hidden door. The door is already open, the wooden steps leading down and down and down. It’s scary, to take each step with the single light leaving so many shadows around, shadows that could have monsters hiding in them.

But sometimes, you have to do scary things.

She sets her jaw and lets her chin jut out, raised a little, and makes her slow and careful way down into the chilly basement, where the secret house is. The little place that her father has to hide, when people who aren’t ‘the right people’ come over, so that the ‘wrong people’ won’t know he’s here.

Her mother is already laying her father down in the little bedroom at the back of the basement place. It's so dark it feels like nighttime in there. She can hear them speaking, but not their words, and she tries to be very good and sits very quietly on the couch, out in what looks like a tiny little living room with a television in it, to wait. 

"Thank you, Miss Savvie," She hears, low and rough. "I l-love you, Miss Savvie."

The little girl winces, gripping the little brightly colored cardboard box with sweaty fingers that start to dampen the ink. Love is a wrong word. It's a word of threats and anger, of making things better by being good.

Her mother's voice is low, and soft, heavy with something the little girl is too young to know. "I love you, too, sweetie. Feel better."

There's silence.

The seconds draw out, and every single one of them is awful. 

Then, her mother murmurs, "I suppose we should stop. I'd hate for me to get sick, too. I'll bring James down once he's up and it'll be just you and the kids. That'll be restful."

He hums, and the silence draws out again, and then she sweeps past the little girl and away without even looking at her. Up the steps, up and up, and the little girl knows they are locked up down here, like always. 

Once her mother is for real gone, the little girl moves, silent as any ghost, down the hall herself, leaving her backpack on the couch. In the bedroom her father lays on his side, coughing a little, mostly just shakes of his shoulders. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and coughs again. The room is all dark except for the light in the hallway that frames her when he catches the motion of her shadow and looks up.

He manages a slight, faint smile. "Izzy. Did you follow us?”

“Yes.” Izzy’s voice is soft and grave. “I didn’t want her to need to bring me and get mad.”

He closes his eyes, just for a second, and nods. “I get it. What've you got there?"

She moves up to the bed and shoves the box into one of his hands. The sweat from her hands has buckled the thin cardboard but the packages inside are still good. "Medicine for your sick."

He stares down at the box, blinking. "Alka-Seltzer Severe Flu," he reads, and then meets her eyes. Theirs nearly match - hazel brown for both. “Izzy, honey, you’re not allowed-” The next round of coughing hits and Izzy scrambles up onto the bed, pulling herself up and moving around behind him, rubbing at his back with her hand like he does when it’s her that’s sick. Her mother’s hands move in circles, like the snake’s eyes in The Jungle Book movie, but her father is a straight line down, lifts up, starts at her shoulder blades and down again.

Izzy presses her lips together in concentration and comforts him just the same way. She whispers, “It’s okay, Daddy, you can cough down here, it’s okay.”

There are tears running out of his eyes when he is finally able to stop, and he’s closed his hand so tightly on the box he crushed it in the middle. He jerks in a breath, then another, and gradually the tremors through his body fade. She keeps rubbing his back. “The-... sound. Was that… was that you getting the medicine?”

She licks at her lips, and whispers, “I’m sorry. You’re sick. I didn’t know what, um, what to do-”

“It’s okay. Hey, I’m not mad. I’m not. C’mere.” He rolls onto his back and holds one arm out in invitation, and she snuggles up to his side, skin burning hot through his clothes but still her father, through and through. “I’m not mad. You’re…” He coughs but this round is short and doesn’t seem to hurt him so much. “You’re a good kid, Iz. D’you know that? Not just a good kid, you’re a good fu-, uh… A good person, too.”

Izzy, who is told every day by her mother that she is not a good child, holds onto these soft loving words and buries them inside herself, a barrier against her mother’s sweet-voiced violence. 

“I’ve got you, Daddy,” She says, an unconscious echo of his reassurances to her. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you, okay? You just lay down and do rest.”

He doesn’t answer. His chest moves, inhaling like he wants to speak, but then he only breathes out again and turns his head to kiss her over her curly brown hair.

In a minute, she’ll get up and get him a water cup, and watch with him as the little discs fizz and turn to nothing and make sure he drinks every single bit to feel better. Her mother will bring James down, and Izzy will be the best big sister and her father’s helper and keep Jamie quiet and happy while Jax sleeps, and feels bad for having to sleep, and then sleeps some more.

But for now, in the silence and chill of the little space in the basement where Savvie hides them when other people come who might take her father away from her, Izzy holds on to his shirt and his arm is tight around her shoulders.

If a tear soaks into her hair where his cheek rests on her scalp, she doesn’t notice.

All she knows is his heartbeat, against her ear, and the steady certainty of his love for her, and her love for him. In a house where they have nothing else, that’s enough.

For her, anyway.

For now.

 ---

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @wildfaewhump @whumpiary @whump-tr0pes @moose-teeth @orchidscript @sableflynn @pretty-face-breaker @raigash @vickytokio @eatyourdamnpears

[lemontwst]

crossing the line. ❤️ ace x m!reader

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: in which ace runs his mouth and then gets his cheeks clapped by an mc with immense big dick energy.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: ace trappola x m!reader

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.2k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: non-con to dub-con, revenge/hate sex, mentions of voyeurism, public sex, enemies to lovers, mc has magical devices he definitely should not be having, grim is not present in this particular scene. 

“You don’t even know about the Great Seven?—”

His malicious voice bounces around your skull like thunder, drowning out the rest of the world like you've suddenly plunged into deep, cold water.

“Are you that ignorant?"

Tranquil rage licks at your insides, your stomach twists with nausea and your hands twitch with the impulse to wrap around his neck.

“Maybe you should go back to kindergarden before thinking of coming to this school.”

Don't punch him. You dig half-moons in your palms, inhaling a deep, shaky breath. Your muscles tighten from the strain of holding yourself back, from resisting the urge to punch this idiot's face in and drag him across the boulevard by the hair. Your heart thump thump thumps against your ribcage like it wants to jump out of you. Don't punch him.

"Aww I'm sorry, did I offend you?" The redhead's features morph into an expression of cheap remorse. His hands clutch his chest like he's so heartbroken, then the joke is over and that obnoxious smirk curves his lips once more, "—just kidding. Why don't you go cry about it to your mom? You won't last long in this place if you can’t stand up for yourself.”

Your reach into your pocket and your fingers brush against one of the slips of paper Crowley gave you before you parted. Paralyzers, he called them. They look pretty useless to you — just a bunch of small, fragile talismans cut from some yellowed paper, but according to Crowley, these things can subdue weaker magical beings for a limited amount of time. The headmaster gave them to you predicting that you would end up in less than savory situations, being the only ordinary human in a school full of wizards, shapeshifters and God knows what else.

“The immobilizing effect will last for about ten minutes,” Crowley had mused as he handed you the talismans, “Do try to escape the situation before the time runs out, would you? It would reflect poorly on our beloved school if one of our students were to die, after all.”

Escape. You snort, your eyes slowly appraising the other student who is still mouthing off. This place still doesn’t know you’re not one to go down without a fight. You’d much rather cling to the monster that’s tearing you apart, digging your teeth in its flesh even as you bleed out all over the pavement than turn tail and run. The carrion on your skin is a hard enough shield, the rot that stains your soul a powerful balm that turns the sting of your wounds into repugnant adrenaline.

"...Anyways, unlike you I actually have classes to attend to," The redhead throws you one last condescending smirk before turning around and giving you a half-assed wave, "Have fun cleaning the halls, janito—"

The words catch in his throat as you stick the Paralyzer to his vulnerable back, grabbing him by the hair and throwing him not so gently behind the obnoxiously large statues and out of the open street. 

The student rolls a few times across the grassy side of the road, almost crashing into the flowerbeds that fence the statues off, then he finally lands on his back, coughing and spluttering more from the shock of the sudden fall than actual pain.

He quickly tries to hoist himself up, but his arms and legs feel boneless and he falls back down, eyes wide and panicked as a jolt of electricity runs him from head to toe. He tries to get up again, but it seems like the more he struggles, the weaker he becomes. The talisman saps every ounce of his energy in a matter of seconds, leaving him unable to do anything more than lay there, eyes to the sky as he tries to catch his breath.

"What—the fuck—did you do?!" He snaps, his crimson eyes filling with hate when you slowly enter his field of vision, blocking out the sunlight and hovering over him with disinterest written all over your handsome face.

His temples throb with the strain of his thoughts traveling at supersonic speed, his head hurts like he just slammed it against a wall, and the cold look in your eyes makes his stomach twist into tight knots in what he stubbornly decides to be fear—even as his skin starts to heat up like he's been sunburnt the longer you look down at him.

"Oh, you know…" You casually put one foot on his stomach and lean in, ignoring the long, pained gasp that scratches his throat raw, "Just thought I'd teach a cockroach in my path a little lesson. I was thinking of letting you go quietly, but all your whining really got on my fucking nerves." You step off of him and he twitches and coughs, trying and failing to curl into himself for some sort of comfort.

"...Ha...so what, are you just gonna beat me up?" He says, smirking through the pain as if he's used to it. You don't doubt it—his mouth has probably gotten him in trouble plenty of times before—but simply hitting him would be so boring. You kneel between his legs, spreading them apart with ease and his smirk falls, "Hey—what are you doing, you idiot?! Get off me!" You ignore him as he tries to squirm out of your grasp.

"Since you act like a little bitch..." You take his shoes off without untying them and throw them somewhere behind you, then you unbuckle his pants and do the same thing, slightly annoyed with the way he whines and struggles—as if he has any chance of wrestling you off when his body is about as responsive as jello, "I'm going to fuck you like one."

The redhead's breath stutters and he stops moving, looking at you like you just escaped the nearest psych ward, but the sudden flash of crimson that lights up his face and the subtle way his eyes fall to your crotch before quickly focusing back on your face betray just a smudge of confused desire—he's probably seen something like this in porn and he’s relieving it in his mind.

"W-we're in public, you bastard! Are—are you insane?! Get away from—" His brain slams on the brakes and his head empties like it's hyperspace.

A shocked gasp leaves his lips when you bring your index finger to the front of his boxers, lazily drawing a circle over the growing hardness beneath. His stomach clenches, ripples of pleasure seemingly falling from where you're touching him to pool in his belly like molten lava.

His breathing picks up the pace, loud and humid in his ears as his eyes stay on your hand like you've hypnotized him, "...H-hey, s-stop that—this isn't fucking funny—"

"Says you." You hum, stopping your slow circling on his now visible erection to finger the elastic band of his boxers. The intimate touch makes his muscles clench and his head fils with air, "I find the way you're sprawled on the grass with no pants on absolutely hilarious." He makes a sound between a shriek and a gasp when your fingers grab his cock and pull it out of his underwear.

This isn't happening. He looks at his cock standing out in the open with a horrified look on his face.

It's not happening—it's a dream—the thought of other students walking the boulevard and seeing him there, behind the statue of the Queen of Hearts, his erection out and his body unable to move makes bile pool in his mouth—and his dick throb, but he doesn’t have time to consider his fucked up reaction because you suddenly blow on his glans and his entire body spasms, his head hits the grass and his eyes find the clear, blue sky once again. He briefly registers the feeling of his underwear sliding off his legs. This isn't happening.

You ignore his useless protests and start unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it off his shoulders roughly but not quite taking it off -- the contrast of his pale, heaving chest and his flushed face as he lies helpless in front of you with his dick out almost makes you forget how irritated you are with him. Almost. But just because he’s cute doesn’t mean you’re not going to make him pay for daring to talk to you like you’re a piece of garbage on the side of the road.

You envelop his hard shaft with your hand and start pumping, slowly, letting him feel the soft texture of your palm and ignoring his pleas for you to wait. With every stroke his sensitivity increases, the thought of being caught flies away as if someone just blew in his skull and the redhead can only claw at the ground and pull at the grass with jerking fingers as a sweet voice starts spilling out of him.

It's just broken gasps at first, confused, scared and excited in equal measure—and then the world loses focus and it's full blown moans, little sighs that grow in volume the more you manhandle him. His shaft and your fingers become slick with precum and the movements become easier and smoother, the tingles in his crotch fly up his spine and he has to remind himself that this is wrong to keep himself from bucking up into your hand.

Stubborn as he is, he almost succeeds in resisting you. But you know just how to break him, allowing yourself a few seconds to listen to his cute moans while you wet your fingers, saliva dripping down your wrist as you methodically suck on the appendages as if they were the hard, leaking dick in your hand.

When you decide your fingers are wet enough, you bring them down to his ass and spread his cheeks to find that tight hole no one has ever touched before.

His entire body jolts when you start circling it, the sensation completely knew and so unexpected that he momentarily comes back to reality. "Wait—not there!" He tries to raise his head but his willpower leaves him when your middle finger draws a deep semi-circle around the rim.

It feels so fucking weird, he jerks his head this and that way as he tries to focus on the hand on his cock and the finger prodding at his hole at the same time. It's tingly and intense and he doesn't want it, his hot asshole parts under your push, welcoming you in a cavern of velvet, and the gasp that leaves him is the loudest one yet. 

"Relax, you little moron." You stretch him carefully, briefly wondering if he's going to come from your handjob before you even have the time to reach his prostate. He's so fucking tight, unused, pure and yet vulgar as he moans and twitches under your skilled hands.

You insert another finger in and his voice turns high-pitched, then you brush against that little button inside his ass—barely, just the ghost of a touch—and he falls off the edge, convulsing like he's been electrocuted and cumming all over himself.

His semen lands on his chest and jacket and as he slowly comes down from cloud nine, eyes glazed and drool on his chin, he briefly wonders how the fuck he's going to go back to his dorm with cum on his uniform. Then he feels you crawl on top of him and that thought too seems to dissolve into thin air.

No one can blame him for being unable to think, unable to act and, somewhere in the deepest recess of his mind, unwilling to move when you start stroking his sensitive dick again, your hair tickling his chin. He can feel how warm your body is and how nice you smell now that you're so close. If you weren't such a fucking demon it would almost feel nice.

"What's your name?" You exhale next to his ear and he shivers, feeling sick to his stomach when he realizes it's because he wants your lips on him.

"A-Ace…" He mutters, tilting his head away from you as much as he can. The white expanse of his neck is right there and you place a few slow, open-mouthed kisses on his vulnerable skin. Ace's heart does a fucking pirouette, little sparks of pleasure run down his abdomen and he lets out a soft moan, one he wishes he could stuff back in his mouth as soon as he hears it.

He feels the sudden urge to cling to you as he lets you kiss him everywhere. He wonders how it would feel to have your mouth draw a line from his collarbones to his stomach before you take his cock in your mouth and the thought alone makes his entire body tremble with need, little gasps leaving him as you lick the curve of his jaw and then blow on it.

"Ace." You growl his name against his skin and the vibration threatens to destroy the rickety dam that keeps his sanity in place. You're doing something unforgivable to him, fuck, Ace knows it and he hates you for it, but the way you say his name makes him so fucking glad to be born, glad to be lying in the grass like a slut with his pants discarded somewhere and your hand slowly stroking his cock.

"Fuck—don't say it like t-that…" He practically wheezes, squeezing his eyes shut as he focuses on the scorching waves of pleasure that pulse through his abdomen when you chuckle against his skin. This feels so fucking nice, one of his hands reaches down to grab your wrist while you continue to stroke him and he absentmindedly caresses your hand as you pump his cock.

He curses loudly as he takes in the hard curve of your knuckles and the wetness of your fingers. Your touch is different than what he's used to, rough but with a regular rhythm that pushes him closer and closer to his orgasm with every flick of your hand. You lazily nibble at his jaw and he suddenly finds himself overrun by the universally irresistible urge to come. Fuck, he's gonna come so hard in a hand that's not his own—

"S-so—sensitive—fuck, gonna cum all over your fingers—" His other hand grabs your shoulder in a way that almost feels too romantic given the situation, but Ace doesn't give a damn. The only thing that matters right now is your hand jacking him off and the trail of stars that dances behind his eyelids as you shatter his galaxy.

So close—so close—his moans become loud and shameless as he bucks up into you, ignoring how useless his body still feels because right now he really fucking needs to come again. 

The muscles in his abdomen tighten, hot white pleasure flashes in front of his eyes and Ace is so fucking ready when he arches his back, but instead of feeling relief, a tidal wave of frustration and disappointment crashes into his electrified body and his loud voice trails off in a pained whine as you suddenly take your hand off his dick, denying him the sweet mercy of orgasmic bliss.

The disparity between what he’s feeling and what he expected to feel is so vast it takes him a minute to realize what happened, the dam in his head breaks and he’s left gasping and sobbing and twitching, hands flying and grasping at the grass beneath him as he struggles to catch his breath.

"—What the fuck?!" He basically screams, looking at you with teary eyes and a face that screams betrayal, "W-why did you s-stop?! I told you I was close!" His chest heaves and he looks almost possessed when his own hand reaches for his abused, throbbing cock, fully intent on finishing the job one way or another.

You stop him before his fingertips even reach the shaft, meeting no resistance when you pin his hand back against the grass.

Ace glares at you but it's feeble and pathetic, the last remains of his rejection completely snuffed out by the shock of being denied an orgasm for the first time in his life. He doesn't look proud and hateful anymore; he’s now just a brat naked from the waist down, this close to crying because he didn’t get fucked the way he wanted.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I thought you wanted me to stop? Did you change your mind, Ace?” The voice that whispered his name almost lovingly in his ears now drips with venom, almost as if you’re imitating the way he talked to you just a handful of minutes earlier.

Ace flinches, his heart sinks and he looks fucking crushed as he takes in your cold expression. You’re not going to stop, are you—? Not now that he actually wants you to touch him—?

“No...that’s not—I didn’t—” He splutters, flushing up to his ears when he realizes he doesn’t even know what he wants to say. Do you want him to beg? Because at this point Ace doesn’t really care enough to even object to that. He just wants you back on top of him. He wants to feel your warmth and have your scent fill his head while you bring him to his release again.

“Dont...be like that...come on,” He groans, letting his head fall to the ground. His dick hurts. His back hurts. Fuck, everything hurts, even his heart for some fucking reason. He doesn't like it when you look at him like you hate him. If anything he should be the one looking at you like that, not the other way around.

"Y-you want me to beg? Is that it?" Ace scoffs and weakly spreads his legs, leaving his cum-stained self complete exposed to your scrutiny. He has the decency to look embarrassed, but when his glazed eyes slowly go from your face to the tent in your pants, what you see in them is not disdain or shame, but pure, unbridled lust.

"You'll beg without me having to ask for it." Ace follows your hand as it goes to your belt, and when you unbuckle it, the soft, erotic click makes his body tremble and his heart flutter.

It's not like he wants to see it—his eyes stay on your crotch as you slowly pull your pants down, revealing the black underwear beneath.

Are you—are you going to pull it out? Out here where everyone can see?—Ace momentarily forgets that he's had his dick out in public for more than it's considered appropriate in every fucking country across the world. Every one of his thoughts comes to an abrupt halt, like he's suffered a concussion.

Except he hasn't, he's just drooling in his mouth at the thought of your cock.

"You don't get to come again, I told you you're going to be fucked like the little bitch you are." You finally pull your dick out, hissing when the air hits your feverish skin and Ace thinks he’s going to spontaneously combust.

The rush of heat that flares beneath his skin is unlike anything he’s ever felt and his slow mind has trouble comprehending whether he suddenly feels on fire because he can see your erection right in front of him or because of the sound you just made. Both. It’s probably both.

“Is that right…” He probably sounds as dazed as he feels—his breath catches in his throat when you lean down again, hovering over him but not quite touching him, the ghost of your breath on his lips threatening to turn him delirious.

You teasingly drag your wet erection across his stomach and Ace moans, his eyes falling shut when your dicks touch. He grinds up against you without thinking and suddenly his body is weightless and he's on the verge of coming all over himself. It feels like every nerve he has is experiencing its own little earthquake, the sound that leaves your lips makes his mind fall apart at the seams and the only thing he can say is a long, desperate "Fuuuck."

His eyes flutter open and he finds you smirking down at him; the sight is so surprising and so beautiful that Ace’s heart lodges straight in his throat.

"Turn around and raise your ass." You chuckle and he goes redder than his hair, but ultimately doesn't protest, waiting for you to give him some space before complying.

The sleeves of his uniform are completely ruined at his point, wet with dew and mud and grass as he pulls himself up on his elbows and gives you an expectant look from over his shoulder. 

What he doesn't expect is to feel your thick fingers push into him again. He almost falls face first into the dirt as he gasps, waist shaking as he's once again wrecked by the feeling of his rim being teased. 

You stretch him more insistently then before, the saliva and cum on your fingers aiding you in your preparations. You try to avoid his prostate, because Ace is already shaking like a leaf and you know how close he is to his climax, but your redhead seems to have had enough of being edged and insistently grinds back into your fingers until you touch that sweet spot inside him that makes his dick leak precum like a faucet. 

He's still not used to it however, and the shock of such an intense stimulation makes his elbows give out as he falls unceremoniously on his face. But he doesn't seem to care, cheek pressed against the grass and eyes squeezed shut as he experiences having his prostate massaged for the first time.

Fuck, he’s sure his legs are going to give out soon too. If just your fingers feel this good, what’s going to happen when you stick your dick in—? Is he going to lose his mind—? Somewhere along the line he seems to have completely forgotten that he's outside in broad daylight with his ass in the air. But even if someone were to see him getting fucked like a slut, would it really be so bad—?

"Hold on tight, stupid," You take your fingers out and he whines softly, sounding surprisingly disappointed for someone who has never had their ass played with before, "I'm gonna make sure you can never come just from touching yourself ever again."

You line your hard cock against his opening and Ace shivers from both anticipation and fear. You’re so big—is—is this gonna hurt? I mean, after everything you've done to him this should be a walk in the park, right—?

It isn't.

You slowly push your dick inside and Ace's first instinct is to scream.

His mind shatters into oblivion as he takes in the feeling of your thick cock stretching him like he's a fucktoy. But this is still nothing, you haven't done anything yet and he's already broken. You pull your hips back and thrust into him hard, your dick scrapes against his prostate and Ace falls into a state of euphoric delirium.

He was made for this, he thinks. Born with the sole purpose of being your slut, ass up and legs spread as he invites you to plow him harder, to mess up his head until your cock is the only thing he can think about. 

And he doesn't even know your name, Ace realizes as his body bounces back and forth against the grass with the force of your thrusts, his tongue lolls out and he tries his best to match your movements with his exhausted body, his hole squeezing your dick like it doesn't want to ever let go.

"Fuuuck—can we do this like…..every day from no—ah!—now on?!" He'll let you do anything you want if you promise to keep fucking him like he's your girlfriend. On his bed in front of his roommates, in class, on the headmaster's desk, anywhere you want him, Ace will be a good bitch for you.

In response to his nonsense you griiind into him and the explosive pleasure that flashes in front of his vision is almost seismic, devastating like nothing he's ever experienced as he breaks and cries and cums all over the grass, eyes rolling back when you roughly grab his hair and thrust a few more times before painting his insides white with your own release.

You make sure to fill him to the brim and Ace doesn't pull away. Instead he remains obediently glued to your crotch as the feeling of hot semen running down his legs completely obliterates his sanity.

Your nasty temper placated for the time being, you pull out in one swift motion and let his boneless body fall to the ground.

Ace groans and curses you under his breath, then he very slowly rolls onto his back, still dazed by the fact that you just came inside him.

If he thought everything hurt before, now he thinks he might actually need to pay a visit to the nurse's office. The effects of the Paralyzer have worn off by now but he's so fucking tired—he startles out of his drunk reverie when something like a curtain falls on his head. 

Except it's not a curtain, but his pants. He takes them off his face and gives you a weak glare as you adjust your belt.

"Wear a skirt next time," You throw him a smirk over your shoulder and Ace hates the way his heart quivers, "Like a good girl."

You barely have the time to dodge the shoe that comes hurtling towards your head, Ace quickly reaching for the other shoe when you start running back towards the school building.

 "Fuck you!—"

[cobaltusami]

May I request some naegiri, with lee!makoto, cause we all know that Makoto is babey

Hi! Yes, Absolutely! I love Naegiri, and lee!Makoto Is super adorable! ^^ Makoto Is sweet sunshine child who must be protected.

I had fun writing this! for some reason my mind immediately jumped to Angst/Comfort for the topic.

I’m also sorry If this isn’t long enough, This Is the shortest fic I’ve written...

This takes place either right after the school went Into lockdown before the killing game started or in the middle of a non despair AU, It’s open for interpretation :)

Hope you enjoy!

Words: 1395

Characters: Lee!Makoto, Ler!Kyoko

SPOILER WARNINGS FOR THE FIRST GAME AHEAD

Weight of the world

“Good morning.” Kyoko greeted her classmates as she entered the dining hall, met with greetings in return she scanned the room, she noticed It was more quiet than usual this morning. Her purple eyes fell on an empty chair, one that was usually occupied by… 

“Where’s Makoto?” She asked.

“He said he wasn’t feeling well.” Sayaka answered, hand In front of her mouth as she spoke. She swallowed her food and set her fork down. “He said something about a headache.”

Hmm… That’s not like him. He doesn’t ever skip breakfast. 

Kyoko lingered for a moment longer before wordlessly going to the kitchen and preparing a plate of food for Makoto, Grabbing a bottle of water on her way out. “I’m going to go check on him.” She said over her shoulder as she made her way to his room.

She pressed her elbow against his doorbell and waited patiently.

Inside the room, Makoto groaned and pulled himself out of bed.  “Just a minute.” He called to whoever was standing at his door.

After realizing he was still In his pajamas, He quickly pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt before shuffling over and opening the door. “K-Kyoko?” 

“May I come In?” She asked politely. He nodded and stepped aside so she could.

She set the plate down on his table and turned to him. “I wasn’t expecting you to get dressed, You must be feeling a little better.”

Makoto’s cheeks flushed. “Uh, Not really. I just thought you might appreciate It if I answered the door wearing pants.”

Kyoko smiled a bit to herself In amusement. “I know that Sayaka said your stomach was hurting, But I brought you some breakfast. I think you should try to eat some of It.” 

She purposely threw out the incorrect ailment, trying to trip him up.

Makoto, Being a terrible liar, forgot what he told Sayaka to get rid of her this morning. So he just nodded and went along with it. 

“Makoto. What’s really wrong?” She asked, Stepping closer to her boyfriend. “You can tell me.”

“W-What do you mean? I just--”

“You told Sayaka you had a headache, And then just agreed to telling her you had a stomach ache.” 

Makoto bit his lip and looked away, knowing better than to lie any further to the Ultimate Detective. “Alright. I’m sorry for lying to you, But I just didn’t feel like eating and I didn’t want everyone to make a big deal out of it.” 

Kyoko put her gloved hands on his shoulders and guided him over to the bed where they sat down. “What’s bothering you?” She asked, setting her hands in her lap.

“I don’t… It’s just…” The brunette looked away from her warm gaze, biting his now trembling lip. “I feel… Hopeless.”

His eyes filled with tears as the feelings he’d previously pushed aside came festering back. “I’m supposed to be the Ultimate Hope, But I feel so…”

“So full of Despair.” She whispered.

He nodded, blinking away the tears.

“It’s hard being locked up here, I know. I can’t imagine the weight on your shoulders, You feel like you always have to uplift everyone and give them Hope. Even when you yourself don’t feel Hopeful.” Kyoko started, prompting tears to spill down his cheeks. “You feel alone, Isolated. You might even be angry to an extent that no one can see past that to your pain.”

She took his trembling hands in hers and stared Into his eyes as if searching the contents of his very soul. “But you aren’t alone, I’m here. And I see your pain. Your feelings are valid.”

Makoto wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and cried into her shoulder.

Kyoko ran her hands over his back in a comforting manner, not saying anything else so he had some time to process his feelings.

After a few minutes he calmed down and pulled back, wiping the tears away from his face. “S-Sorry about that…” He meekly apologized.

She offered a small smile in response. “It’s okay. Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah. I’m feeling better now.” He mustered up a smile and went to stand up but was pulled back down.

“No you aren’t.” She saw through his lie yet again. “I don’t like being lied to, Naegi.” 

She spoke In a stern voice, However there was an unnerving edge to her words. Something that resembled playfulness.

Something that resembled ‘Makoto’s in trouble and about to get wrecked.’

“I-I’m sorry Kyoko! I didn’t even realize I was doing It!” Makoto panicked, His words flooding out like a waterfall. A very panicky waterfall. 

Kyoko pushed him down and straddled his legs to stop him from getting up and running away. “I think you need to be taught what happens when you lie to a Kirigiri.” She smirked, shoving his shirt up.

“W-Wait! Can’t we talk about this-- Pfft n-no! Kyohohohokohoho!” He dissolved into a fit of giggles as he felt her gloved fingers scribbling all around his sides.

She smiled, The air In the room felt ten times lighter now that he was laughing. “Sorry, But no. We’re done talking for now. Now you get to laugh and think about how unwise It is to lie to me.”

“I’m sorryehehehe!” He giggled, writhing underneath her. He didn’t try to stop her though, subconsciously he must have realized he needed this attention right now.

“It’s too late for sorry, Makoto.” She teased, fluttering her fingers across his stomach. “Does this tickle?”

Makoto squealed and arched his back, which only pressed her fingers further into his ticklish stomach. “KYOHOHOHO!”

“Yes, Makoto?” She asked innocently.

“IHIHIHIT TIHIHICKLES!” He whined, covering his quickly reddening face.

“Does It?” She smiled in amusement. “I had no Idea.”

The smooth texture of her gloves tickled like hell, and she was well aware of this. Kyoko wasn’t even tickling that fast or hard but Makoto was damn near In hysterics, Especially when she suddenly dipped down and blew a raspberry on his belly.

The Ultimate Hope screamed, Unable to form words as he laughed his heart out. After the third raspberry, He began pushing at Kyoko’s head In an attempt to escape. “KYOOHOHOHOHO! PLEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!”

“Hmm. How can I be sure you really want me to stop?” She asked coyly, Dipping a finger into his belly button. “You keep lying to me, So for all I know… You want me to keep going.”

Makoto girlishly squealed and tried to suck in his stomach. “I’M SOHOHOHOHORRY FOR LYING TO YOUHUHUHU!” 

“I don’t know, That could be another lie…” She smirked, Wiggling her finger faster. “Are you really sure?”

“YEHEHEHES! I’M SOHOHOHOHO SORRY!” Makoto cackled, Tears slipping down his cheeks for a second time today, Though this time It was for a happier reason. “PLEHEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAHAN’T!”

Kyoko pulled her hands back and climbed off of her giggling and panting boyfriend, coming to rest right next to him. “Are you feeling any better now?” She asked, turning over onto her side to look at him.

Makoto nodded slowly as he wiped his tears away with the heels of his hands and pushed his shirt back down. “Yeah… Thank you, Kyo.” He turned his head to look at her for a moment before leaning closer and planting a soft kiss against her lips. 

“You’re welcome. Just remember, You may have a lot of weight on your shoulders, But you don’t have to carry It alone.“ She smiled, her cheeks tinting a pale pink. “Now come on! Let’s go get some breakfast.” 

Kyoko got out of bed only for Makoto wrap his arms around her waist and pull her back down into the bed with him. “Can’t we just stay here for a while? I’m kind of tired…”

She giggled as he nuzzled into her neck and closed his eyes, gently she pushed him back. “No. I’m hungry, And you haven’t eaten either.”

“You can have the plate of food you brought me.” He offered.

“Nice try. It’s cold by now. Come on, Get up. Everyone Is probably wondering where I am.”

She had to practically drag him behind her, but at least he had some life back In him.

While things may still be super tense and stressful for Makoto, It comforted him to know that he wasn’t alone, And didn’t have to shoulder all of this responsibility alone.