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jobean12-blog · 5 months ago

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The Fine Print

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (CEO!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 4,126

Summary: You've been working under Bucky for almost a year and he's always been a grumpy ass and even though when the lines get blurred you can't seem to stay away.

Author's Note: These new pics and all the new gym shots and vids and yum! Just being fed so well! I like the idea of a grumpy CEO who just wants you and he's mad about it. No excuse for being a dick but he's not really all bad. And anyway, I'd never tell him no...haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Thank you Daisy for the lovely divider @firefly-graphics😘

Warnings: Grumpy ass Bucky (he's a total ass sometimes but has moments of softness), sassy reader, lots of tension, flirting, curses, fingering, light dirty talk

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You’re late. Only twenty minutes but it’s long enough that your grumpy ass of a boss will have your head for it.

Grumpy…and an ass but entirely too gorgeous.

You pick up the pace, precariously balancing your files and bags and hoping you don’t faceplant on the newly shined floors.

Getting a flat tire on the highway this morning wasn’t on your long to-do list for today, but it still happened and now you’ll have to deal with a very cranky Mr. Barnes.

You round the corner and enter your office, ready to give your usual sunshine filled greeting.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes!”

He’s standing at your desk, arms crossed over his broad chest and his eyes hard.

“Is it a good morning?” he asks, not bothering to move out of the way as you try to slip around him. “What time is it?”

You stop and meet his glare.

“I had some car trouble this morning. I got a flat on my way in.”

Your voice comes out steady and strong and relief floods through you. This was the first time you were late, and you were not going to be reprimanded.

“Trouble is quite the fitting word for what I’ve been dealing with in your absence.”

You glance up at him and his antagonizing stare, and blink away your surprise at his words.

“I would have thought you would at least ask me if I was ok Mr. Barnes,” you say sweetly and with a smile. “After all, how could I possibly manage to fix a flat tire all on my own.”

His jaw clenches tightly.

“Obviously you managed,” he counters. “And you look just fine.”

Beautiful blue eyes wander languidly down your body before making their slow perusal back up to study your face.

You try to school your features and when he raises an expectant brow you bite back with, “Thankfully I am fine, and I got help but I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with the burden of picking up a telephone and sending an e-mail all on your own this morning. It won’t happen again.”

He takes a step closer to you and you stop yourself from swaying forward to get a hint of his scent.

Traitorous body. If only the fucker wasn’t so fucking hot.

“You’re right. It won’t,” he replies with a smug smile. “And just so you don’t forget, I’d like to see…”

He spends the next minute rattling off several project pieces he’d like to see completed and on his desk by the end of the day.

“And then you can make up the half an hour you missed by getting together a mock presentation for our meeting tomorrow.”

When your nostrils flare, he smiles triumphantly and dips his head, so his warm breath caresses the shell of your ear.

“I’ll see you in the conference room at six.”

He turns away and slams his office door behind him and you let out an exasperated puff of air.

“It was only twenty minutes asshole.”

You mutter the words under your breath as you plop into your office chair and continue to curse his name in grumbles.

There’s a light knock on the door before it opens and you know you’re about to hear the voice of your friend and coworker, Jess.

“I know you’re working through lunch,” she says. “So at least let me get you something.”

You don’t look up but smile nonetheless, your fingers flying over the keyboard with ease.

“Honestly, I don’t even think I have time to eat,” you say before hitting the period button hard and meeting her eyes.

Jess gives you a sympathetic look. “I’ll grab you something nutritious.”

She waves before gently shutting the door. You lean over to check your desk drawer for snacks, the mention of lunch reminding you that you are in fact, hungry. At the same time that you see you have nothing to eat you notice a tear in your stockings.

“Son of a bitch,” you grumble. “I just bought these.”

Less than a minute later your door opens again and without looking up from your screen you whine, “do you know what, after the morning I’ve had I think I’ll take something sweet…maybe a cookie. Or twelve. Or chocolate of any kind.”

When you receive no acknowledgement, in return you glance up and see that Jess is not standing at your door.

You quickly tug the hem of your skirt down, noting how Bucky’s eyes track the movement and linger on your legs.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, I didn’t realize…”

“Since your morning has been so awful,” he starts, his sly smile growing, “why don’t you run down to the café and pick us both up some lunch.”

Your lips purse and once again his eyes seem glued to every action you take.

“Mr. Barnes, Jess has just come in and said she would grab me something to eat so I can continue working through lunch.”

When he doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“I have A LOT to get done.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it work,” he says before rattling off his lunch order.

He turns on his heel and takes two long strides back to his office, pulling the door closed hard behind him.

“What the f…?”

You don’t even finish the sentence when he opens the door again and pokes his head out.

“Make sure you get yourself something to eat. We’re going to be here late.”

The door slams shut again, and you abruptly stand, your rolling chair flying back into the wall as you storm off.

“Why does he care if I eat or not?” you ask yourself as you angrily stuff things into your bag and throw it over your shoulder.

The rest of the day goes by far too quickly and you find yourself cursing out the copy machine as you wait for the rest of your papers to go through. Checking your phone you see you’re already almost ten minutes late to your afterhours ‘meeting.’

You rush down the dim hall of the now empty building, your presentation materials clutched tightly to your chest and glance again at your phone.

Fifteen minutes. Shit.

As you near the conference room, you try to calm your breathing and slow to a walk. A soft light shines from under the door, and you know he’s in there waiting for you.

Taking a deep breath you knock.

“Come in.”

You walk into the large room, never failing to take in the view of the city that the floor to ceiling windows along one wall highlight.

At the head of the large dark wood conference table, sits Bucky. His suit jacket is hanging haphazardly over the back of his chair, his tie is loose around his neck, and the crisp white sleeves of his button down are rolled up to his elbows.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes. The copy machine…”

Realizing you’ve been apologizing all day, and it has made no difference, you stop yourself and lift your chin, walking over to where he sits and placing down your papers, sorting through them as quickly as possible so you can begin.

“Have you eaten dinner?” he asks.

His question takes you completely by surprise and you meet his piercing blue eyes with a confused expression.

“I uh…I had lunch.”

“That doesn’t answer my question sweetheart.”

At his sugared endearment, your eyes widen, and your breath catches in your throat, but you regain your composure.

“No. I haven’t.”

He just nods and gestures to the papers, clearly waiting for you to get started.

You lean over the table, searching for the paper you need and in your disheveled state don’t realize your entire lower body is practically draped over him.

“I just need to find…”

The words catch in your throat when you feel his fingers softly touch your thigh, slowly inching higher to reveal the tear in your stocking. His fingertips trace the sheared fabric and press against your skin, igniting it with heat.

Every muscle in your body tenses, your heart pounds in your chest and your brain screams at you to push him away but you don’t dare move.

“Look at me,” he demands, pressing his fingertips harder into your skin.

You straighten and turn to face him, his hand sliding up and over the curve of your hip to settle on your waist.

“Mr. Barnes?” you ask, keeping your eyes trained on his.

“James. Call me James.”

The intensity of his stare makes your breath catch and when he doesn’t answer and instead continues letting his hand trace your curves you battle with your emotions.

“The next time you have car trouble,” and his hand slips under your skirt again, “you call me.”

“What? Why would I?”

His fingertips graze the lace top of your stocking before he lifts your skirt higher and drops his eyes between your legs.

“Because I said so,” he murmurs, teasing along your inner thigh.

Your hand falls to the table to steady yourself and you willingly spread your legs open when he gives them a slight push.

“That’s hardly a good reason,” you breathe out.

“Fuck,” he growls, and his eyes fall closed.

You glance down at his lap and see him straining against the expensive fabric of his pants.

He smooths two fingers along the line of your panties, lightly pressing against your swollen and sensitive clit. His eyes open and he looks furious, fisting the thin material in his hand and in one quick movement, tearing it off.

He pulls you down roughly onto his lap, your skirt riding up over your hips to accommodate the wide spread of your legs as you straddle him.

An involuntary moan slips past your parted lips when he grabs your ass and drags you down over his hard cock.

When he opens his mouth to speak you grab his tie between your fingers and use it to pull his mouth to yours. Every sweep of his lips is heaven, and you release his tie to rake your fingers through his hair.

He makes a low, angry noise deep in his throat and you trail your lips along his jaw, kissing your way down the strong column of his neck.

His hand slides from your ass and slips between your legs, his fingers brushing through the wetness just before there’s a knock on the door.

You both go completely still and wait. When a second knock sounds, he quietly curses and gently lifts you off his lap.

You quickly pull your skirt down and smooth your hands over your hips. He watches your every move as he runs a hand through his mussed hair and sits up in the chair, hiding his legs and erection under the table.

“What?” he growls, loud enough for whomever is on the other side to hear.

“Mr. Barnes, we’re scheduled to do maintenance in here tonight.”

He curses again and continues to stare at you.

“I’m just finishing a meeting. Give me five minutes.”

“Of course, Mr. Barnes,” the maintenance manager, says, “take your time.”

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he splays his hands out over the tabletop. Hastily he stands and tries to straighten his tie, his eyes landing on your ripped panties that lie on the floor.

He grabs them and rubs the silky fabric between his fingers.

“Make sure you eat something,” he says and then shrugs on his suit jacket, tucking your panties into the breast pocket.

You’re clutching the table and staring as he grabs his briefcase and starts toward the door.

“It’s late. I’m going to have security walk you to your car,” he states, finally meeting your eyes.

His groan is pained as his gaze travels down your body and then he disappears out the door.

You fall back into a chair and try to calm your breathing. You’d have to be out of here in a minute and you didn’t want to look suspicious. Seeing movement outside the door you begin gathering your things and stand on still shaky legs.

With a deep inhale you straighten your shoulders and walk out the door with a serene smile, greeting the head of security and thanking him for escorting you out.

What the fuck just happened?

The next morning you’re making your way into the office when he walks in. You do nothing more than greet him with a curt nod, giving him a wide berth of space as you make your way to your desk.

You can feel his eyes on you, the lick of heat traveling down your spine. You’re wearing your favorite dress and while it’s appropriate for the workspace it accentuates all the right spots, and you smile to yourself as you bend down to retrieve something from your desk drawer.

Regardless of what transpired last night you are not going to let it affect your work. You felt powerful and confident in this dress and Mr. Barnes can fuck off.

You peek over your shoulder to find him standing halfway in the doorway of his office and staring. You raise your brows and blink.

He clears his throat and mumbles a short “good morning,” then steps into his office and slams the door.

You roll your eyes and promise yourself he’ll be the last thing on your mind as you set out to get as much work done today as possible.

As lunch approaches you grab your bag and reach for your wallet. Your fingers close around a crumpled piece of paper, and you start to smile when you’re reminded of what it is.

You knock on his office door and saunter inside when he says, “come in.” The receipt hits his desk with a smack and without an explanation you turn and walk back out.

You almost make it to the first step in the stairwell when you hear footsteps approach behind you.

“Where the hell do you think you’re running off to?” he calls.

You continue walking and make it down one flight of steps before saying, “to get lunch.”

He meets you on the landing and clutches your elbow, spinning you around and pushing you against the wall.

Your eyes narrow contemptuously.

He whips the receipt out and in front of your face. “Want to explain this sweetheart?”

You let out a wry chuckle. “You know for such a smart guy you really are an ass sometimes. It’s a receipt.”

“I can see that,” he says through clenched teeth. “What I want to know is why you’re making purchases for…lingerie…on my company credit card.”

“Some jerk ripped up my favorite pair of panties last night.”

You shrug your shoulders and try to skirt past him.

His hand meets the wall next to your head, his fingers curling and crumpling the receipt and you can feel how tightly the muscles in his body are flexed when he presses closer.

He looks tormented for the split second before his lips crash down on yours and your treacherous body melts into the kiss.

His cock throbs against your stomach as he tries to hike your dress up over your thighs. Reluctantly he steps back, making enough space so he can slowly slide your dress higher, above your panties and look his fill.

“I like this pair even more than last nights,” he simpers.

His fingers hook into the lace at your hip, and you grab his shirt. “Don’t you dare Barnes.”

“You can buy as many new pairs as you want.”

He once again easily tears them from your hips.

Your lips part in shock but he swallows your sassy remark with his mouth. The roughness of his kiss is a sharp contrast to the way his fingers softly tease between your legs.

You need more but you’ll be damned if you’re going to beg him for it. As if he can read your inner thoughts, his eyes light up in triumph when he pulls away to meet your gaze.

“As much as I want to hear you beg me for it sweetheart, I already know how badly you want it. You’re soaked for me.”

“You’re such an ass…”

He slides a finger inside you and your combined groans echo in the empty stairwell, the insult dying on your lips.

His stare is intense as he dips his head to your ear, warm lips brushing ever so gently when he whispers, “say please and I’ll give you what you want.”

Instead, you nip at his jaw, stifling the moan of need that threatens to rise in your throat. He continues pumping one finger in and out, sweat beginning to bead on his brow and his teeth gritted.

You hiss out a curse that’s followed by a breathy “please.”

You’re expecting him to be smug but instead he slows his movements and languidly pushes a second finger inside you, clearly relishing the way your eyelids flutter closed and you clench around him.

“That’s it sweetheart. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my fingers.”

His words practically send you over the edge but it’s the press of his thumb to your clit that makes your legs start to shake and his name fall from your lips like a prayer.

When his head falls to your neck and he places soft kisses along your skin, traveling up to your ear to whisper, “come for me gorgeous,” you let go and dig your fingernails into his strong shoulders, finishing with a muffled cry.

He draws out your pleasure with the slow push and pull of his fingers before sliding them out and holding them between you, his skin glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights.

His fingers press to his lips, parting them as he licks them clean, clearly savoring every drop of your taste.

“I knew you’d be sweet,” he croons.

“James,” you whimper when your hands fall to his pants.

He grabs your wrist to stop you and pushes your hand away. With soft movements he fixes your dress, smoothing his hands along your curves.

“But…” you start, and he silences you with a kiss.

You’re breathless and your head is fuzzy by the time he pulls away and with a wink he steps back and says, “lunch is over. We have a meeting to attend.”

He turns on his heel and jogs back up the steps with ease. Your narrowed eyes follow him before you let out a frustrated huff and walk on wobbly legs in the same direction.

You had forgotten all about the meeting…the one you were supposed to go over the plans for the night before.

When you walk into the large conference room everyone is already seated and Bucky is of course at the head of the table. His eyes are trained on you as you walk to the front and place your things down near him.

The presentation you’re giving shouldn’t take more than ten minutes, but there’s a lot riding on it and after what just happened, you’re obviously feeling flustered.

You open your document and greet and address the room, doing everything in your power to keep your focus on where it belongs and not on him.

But when you pause your eyes lock with his and your ability to speak is momentarily stolen. His gaze is intense, the heat simmering there almost palpable.

With a clear of your throat you continue, fumbling slightly but thankfully recovering quick enough that no one seems to notice. No one but him.

His perfect lips raise in a lopsided grin, and he runs his tongue along the seam of his lips. It’s clear where his thoughts are, and you must tear your eyes away to unscramble your head. He’s obviously trying to fluster you and quickly your nerves are replaced with anger, and you use it to fuel the rest of your presentation, finishing it with ease.

You sit with a smile and lift your chin, challenging him with your eyes. He stares right back.

“Thank you,” he says, addressing you by your first name as he stands and commands the room. “That was an excellent presentation. Clearly, you were well prepared.”

You can’t tell if his words are mocking or meaningful and it sets you on edge. He moves around the room and answers any lingering questions before ending the meeting with a dismissive hand.

As people stand and gather their things, Bucky comes up behind you, pressing his chest close to your back as he leans in to pretend to grab something from the table.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to make it thought that” he chuckles.

To everyone else it appears he’s making a funny remark, but you can feel your skin heat at his proximity and taunting words.

“Ugh,” you say through gritted teeth. “You would have loved that wouldn’t you?”

You can feel your eyes fill with unshed tears, the emotions of the day finally catching up to you and when his gaze finds yours his expression morphs from haughty to soft in an instant.

It only sends you reeling again, the confusion flooding through you and before he can say more you gather your things and rush out the door. Unexpectedly, he’s hot on your heels all the way to the elevator.

There are several other people on it so when you stop at the next floor and more employees file in, you’re squeezed toward the back, pushed farther into him, your ass against his crotch.

He’s hard and you feel the rest of him stiffen with the sharp intake of his breath. You take a step away from him, as much as you can in the confined space, but he reaches forward and grips your hip to pull you back.

“Don’t move,” he whispers into your neck.

“I’m two seconds away from shoving my heel up your ass,” you seethe.

He leans even closer, keeping a firm grasp on your hip.

“You were deliberately trying to make me fuck that up!”

You turn your head to peer at him and his mouth falls open, brows furrowed.

“What?” he says.

“You heard me.”

When you reach the floor just before the top, everyone else exits the elevator and the doors close, leaving you both pressed together in the corner.

It starts to move again, and you jerk backward, falling against him as he leans into the wall.

His sudden growl startles you and then he slams his hand into the stop button on the control panel.

His body cages you against the wall and his breathing is harsh.

“I would never want you to fuck anything up,” he exhales. “It’s impossible for me to think about anything but you…how good you taste, and I haven’t even gotten my mouth on you.”

You hide your surprise at his confession.

“Yet.” He adds in a promised whisper.

“This is my career at stake Mr. Barnes. You’re the one with all the power here. What do you have to lose?”

“Me? All the power?” He laughs dryly. “You’re the one who does this to me…the only one.”

You feel him throb against your stomach and you can see the truth in his eyes.

“Then don’t be such a dick all the time.”

You mean the words to come out harsh but instead they’re a quiet whisper and your expression softens.

It’s all he needs before his lips crash to yours and he slides his hands down to your ass, squeezing his way to the hem of your dress.

“I had to sit there and watch you present, the whole fucking time knowing you had nothing on under here.”

His touch is delicate as he spreads your legs and slides a finger through your folds, already wet and aching.

“I was sitting there hard as a rock just thinking about bending you over that table, tasting you, fucking you.”

Your fingers close around his biceps, the soft fabric of his suit jacket bulging under the strained muscles.

“Is that what you want?” he asks as his fingers continue to tease you.

“Yes,” you answer as you grab hold of his tie and bring his lips closer.

He kisses you, never touching you where you need it most and when he pulls away, he presses the elevator button, causing it to start moving again.

He removes his fingers and reaches up to straighten his tie and when the doors open, he backs out, his voice low and deep when he says, “I need to see you in my office. Immediately.”

He turns and glides from the elevator, his long strides carrying him quickly toward his office and you can’t do anything but follow.

@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @goldylions @lizette50

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #ceo!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #ceo au

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sleepy-writes-stuff · 8 months ago

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DP X DC PROMPT #27

(Time for something a little more lighthearted/found family. Could probably also make this a crack prompt instead.)

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.

✦

Visitation Rights

When Danny went to list Dani/Ellie as his heir after she'd come back from her years of traveling the world, he was quickly informed that he already had one in line for the thrown.

"What? Since when?!"

The pretentious, floating eyeball looked like he wanted to be anywhere else other than here, providing information to King Phantom, but explained anyway.

"The day you officially achieved royal status, you permanently linked your being to the Infinite Realms. When this happened, however, a child was in the process of being created with the assistance of ectoplasmic runoff that's been leaking into the mortal world for centuries. As a result of your power being incorporated into the Realms at such a time, this human child retained an imprint of your core signature. The Infinite Realms itself has recognized this child as your offspring. Your... other offspring has yet to be recognized in such a way and would therefore be considered your second heir once claimed."

Danny stared at the Observant with wide, blank eyes that were slowly filling with dread and panic.

"Why are you just telling me this now?? My coronation was over a decade ago!" He held his face in his hands and gave a horrified groan at what he just learned.

"If you really wanted that clone as your heir, I'm afraid it's too late to change it-"

Danny's head shot back up with a snarl and furious green eyes.

"That's not what I'm upset about you walking cataracts! Eleven years! I've missed eleven years of this kid's life!! How could you think I-"

At a loss for words, he growled deep in his chest. Deep enough that it echoed throughout the halls and rattled the floors.

"Who is this kid, and where can I find them?"

Once given the information and learning of the child's other parental figures, he gets to work. A few weeks later, he appears in the home office of a well-known billionaire with a stack of papers that he promptly slams onto the desk in front of the startled man. (1)

"I demand visitation rights to our son, Damian Wayne."

✦

(1) Danny actually visited Talia first to get visitation rights. Needless to say, that didn't go very well. He's still got a couple knives floating around in his chest cavity because of it.

(*) ALSO! I'm not sure how this lines up with the DC/Batman timeline. All I figured out is that if Danny waited to be crowned until after he graduated college as an astrophysicist, which take 5 to 7 years, he'd be about 36 years old when he finds out about Damian. Bruce would be about 41, so the age gap is only 5 years. If y'all wanna make this Danny/Bruce, go ahead!

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bonniebird · 3 months ago

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Aemond X Fem!Targ!Reader but also (Alicent x Reader?)

Warnings: mentions of difficult childbirth, toxic relationship, neglectful relationship

Summery: In an attempt to keep peace, Viserys wed Rhaenyra's only daughter to Aemond. Years later Alicent finds herself caught between the loyalty to her son or her daughter-in-law. With Aemond showing he cares very little about what happens to the mother of his heir he is surprisingly enraged when she vanishes one afternoon during a council meeting.

Recommending the playlist i listened to while writing this lol

Even draped in the gray fabric with her head bowed and her back facing Alicent, she knew it was Rhaenyra. She was kneeling exactly where Aemond had said she would be. It had taken everything to have him spare her death. His plan might be worse.

“Rhaenyra.” Alicent said as she waved a hand and dismissed all of the Septas. Panic reached Rhaenyra’s eyes as she turned and stared at her childhood friend before glancing around and relaxing a little.

“I was not expecting you.” She said calmly. It was mildly frustrating that her nerves hadn’t rattled her. Especially when Alicent’s hands were sweaty and her throat was so dry with anxiety that she felt the need to cough deeply.

“No. You are lucky I convinced Aemond that I would deal with you.” Alicent said slowly as she knelt down before the altar and lit a candle. Rhaenyra watched her and for a moment it was as if nothing had ever changed.

“I have not come as an enemy. I simply came to see my daughter. Her letters stopped.” Rhaenyra said quietly. There was a tone to her voice that held a firm accusation that something had happened to her daughter. Alicent’s eyes closed for a moment. She took a deep trembling breath. Thought of you. Of Helena and her grandchildren and swallowed all her guilt deep down until she felt numb.

“Rhaenyra…” She started.

“I am her mother! My father wed her to Aemond so there would be peace. A foolish idea but I… the only girl I have birthed… that lived. She is not Aemond's, she is my girl.” Rhaenyra seethed out with sharp words. Her eyes watered and she turned back to the candles before them.

“She is dead! Rhaenyra. She has died.” Alicent snapped out. She hadn’t been sure that she could do as Aemond commanded. Her eyes widened for a moment and the guilt reared its head, larger than Baelon the black dread had ever been looking down on her and casting judgment on her for the coward she was.

“No.” A small broken noise. Tears slid down Rhaenyra’s cheeks and she shook her head. “I would know. I would know if my girl had… What of her child?”

“They are both gone. Vhagar lit their funeral pyres. It was a son.” Alicent recited what Aemond had told her to say and stared forward at the lit candles.

“So he takes another child from me.” Rhaenyra said with a hollow coldness. She stood and said nothing else as she left. Alicent stayed frozen to her spot as she raised a hand to cover her mouth and muffle the sob that escaped her as her gargantuan monster of guilt dove down to consume her.

********************

“How is she doing?” Aemond asked as he sat beside the bed.

“The birth was hard; she will still need more rest before we can be sure.” Maester Orwyle said as she tended to the weak young woman in the bed. Aemmond looked down at her slowly.

“The baby?” Aemond asked casually. He had done little more than look at the small life since it was first brought to him.

“Growing stronger. But I am worried about him. He is rather small.” The Maester said quickly. Aemond leaned back in his chair and glanced at the frail shape in the bed.

“Maybe you should be ensuring that my heir will survive.” Aemond said before standing to leave. He stopped when he saw Alicent in the doorway of the room. They stared each other down for a moment before she glanced towards the Maester and Aemond took his victory by shoving past her.

“Alicent?” The weak voice called to her and Alicent swept across the room, crouching at the bedside and cupping the face of the poor young woman. “They took the baby.”

“He was sick. The Maester needed him to be cared for.” Alicent explained. Confusion crossed the face of the girl and she closed her eyes for a moment.

“I… I need to take the baby to the Sept.” She whispered out with her eyes still closed as she turned her head on the pillows. She looked so much like Rhaenyra when she was young that Alicent found guilt clawing at her belly. Sentiment played with her heartstrings and she pushed the ugly thought that she was using Rhaenyra’s child to find some comfort that had been lost when she and Rhaenyra fell out of friendship.

“(Y/N) the baby is fine. He does not need to go to the sept.” Alicent said softly and dismissed everyone else in the room once the Maester had finished checking on you. She took up Aemond’s seat beside the bed, moving it closer so she could take the damp cloth, sat in a bowl of cool water on a side table near your bed, and wipe at the sweat that coated your face.

“I promised I would take the baby.” The weak voice made Alicent’s guilt return. It slithered around her like a snake squeezing tighter and tighter as she tended to the weak remnants of the sweet girl.

“I will speak with Aemond. Perhaps he will allow peace long enough to show the babe to your mother.” Alicent said as she bent over the girl and kissed her forehead as if she were her own.

“He wanted me to die. I disappointed him.” The whisper was delirious and wobbly but the truth of it was as jarring as it would have been for a knife to be plunged into her chest. Alicent hushed her, fussing until sleep took the girl and she could leave Septa's she trusted to watch over her.

Anxiety picked at Alicent. It thumped against her chest from the inside out, sitting beside her heart making her stop walking and take a shaky breath. She let it out in one quick huff and continued her steps through the halls. They echoed loudly. Each step accusing her of cruelty, treachery and weakness. When she entered the council room she found Aemond at the head of the table looking down at a map before him. He didn’t bother to acknowledge her which gave her a moment to steel herself.

“Aemond. You should be tending to your wife.” Alicent said firmly.

“Why?” He asked.

“The birth was hard. She is still in danger.” Alicent tried to pull at his sympathies. He had never been overly caring but she had hoped his possessiveness of you would grow into something more over the years.

“A punishment from the gods. For how my son and heir struggled into the world.” Aemond said carelessly. Alicent swallowed the raging beast of her youth, it yearned to strike Aemond and shout at him how he was wrong.

“Such foolishness. No doubt the words of your wise council that you repeat. The girl has battled to bring you an heir. Both have survived. Most are not so lucky.” Alicent stared at Aemond who shrugged. Alicent stared at him speechless. She was unsure how to express to him the danger his wife had faced.

“Simply because she is Rhaenyra’s child you have decided to hate her? To withhold your duties as a husband?” Alicent accused. Aemond glanced at her and sighed, sitting back in the large chair.

“She was meeting with the enemy.” Aemond said as if his attitude was justified.

“Because she was facing death. You could not negotiate peace for a few days for your own wife!” Alicent said and winced. She knew it was unrealistic. Impossible but it was right. “You have no idea what it was like for her alone. You should have had me sent for.”

“Were you able to send our message to the enemy?” Aemond asked, ignoring what she said.

“Yes. I have told Rhaenyra that her daughter passed… you do not plan to kill her?” Alicent asked. Aemond tutted and looked at her as if he was mildly offended.

“I will need another heir out of her first. She shall need to rest, I assume. Before I can make another.” Aemond looked to the door as the rest of the council entered. Alicent left feeling all the worse. She had hoped that something in Aemond would be altered by the sight of his son. Soften by his wife’s efforts to bring life to his world.

Alicent found herself feeling sick as she walked the halls aimlessly until she turned a corner and found Helena. She was light by light, some divine vision in the dark halls, smiling as if Alicent had never wronged anyone in her life.

“Mother. It is almost time.” Helena said in her way with a soft smile. She reached for her mother's arm and smiled as she avoided making eye contact with her mother.

“Time for what?” Alicent asked as if she wanted the world to stop.

“To save the heart.” Helena said as if she were in some kind of dream and let go of her mother, walking to the window nearby. Alicent knew better than to ask more of Helena. There would be no explanation. “He will kill her. But it is not too late yet. To take the heart home!”

**************

Alicent scanned the woods. She kept an eye out for any movement. She had a deep fear heavy in her belly that Aemond would shadow the skies with Vhagar and burn the forest down. Just behind her, the gentle brown horse kept a steady pace, refusing to go faster or slower. It was as if the creature knew the cargo it carried was precious and yet fleeing was necessary.

Alicent held out a hand and pulled her horse to a stop as men dressed in black and red suddenly poured out of the woods. They slipped between the trees and out of the shadows like water from a recent rain falling from the leaves of the great tree branches above them. One broke off, approaching the brown horse, taking hold of the reins. Alicent was surrounded by armed men, watching them silently.

“Princess. My name is Davos. Your mother has sent me to escort you to the vale.” The young man who had taken the reins from the brown horse said. The hooded figure on the horse pushed back the cloak wrapped around them and looked down at the young man. An awestruck look crossed his face. A look that should have lived on her son's face Alicent thought bitterly.

“Thank you, Ser.” The sweet, kind voice, broke the silence of the woods. The man nodded and led the horse away through the men. As the horse passed Alicent the girl looked up, locking eyes with Alicent. “Be sure not to hurt my law mother. Please.”

The plea was heard and the girl was taken. The men retreated and all too soon Alicent was alone. Dismounting from the horse, emotion bubbled and spilt. She let out a scream of pain or rage she was unsure. Unable to keep her emotions contained anymore. Her outburst ended with her crumbling in the undergrowth, sobbing and weeping, unable to find the strength to move even as darkness began to set in. Men sent to look for her arrived and thought she had been wounded or attacked. Helena sat at her bedside as Alicent gave in, letting herself wallow in misery. She was unsure when Helena had left but she was roused from sleep in the dark. A single candlelight illuminating Aemond sat beside her bed, gently holding her hand.

“Mother. I am glad you are well. I fear you had been attacked.” Aemond’s voice was gentle. It was the gentle way he spoke to people he thought were less intelligent than him.

“We should have had more guards with us.” Alicent said. Aemond scoffed, leaning close to her, making Alicent’s eyes grow wide with nerves.

“My wife and son are gone. I know it was your doing Mother. The moment I can prove it to the council… I WILL FIND MY WIFE AND SON!... I…” He trailed off when Alicent scoffed.

“You think I would endanger my grandson?” She challenged. Aemond cocked his head to the side and looked at her as if he almost believed her. “How dare you!”

Fire. It ignited in her. Spreading through her body, fueled by the thought of her sweet Helena. Of her daughter-in-law, forgiving and merciful begging for her to be safe and spared. It burned through her until Alicent was on her feet.

“You mistreated that girl. Cruel to your sister. Humiliate your brother and then you accuse me! ME! You know what I have risked, and lost for all of this.” Alicent’s voice raised with each step she took towards Aemond who retreated as if a dragon were spitting rage at him. “I do not want to see you tomorrow until you have thought over the cruelties you dole out. I will expect your apology.” Her words were punctuated by the slam of the door. She had backed Aemond through and forced him from the room. She had lost everything for her sons and at the first taste of power they abandoned her. She wanted to give in. She would have. But for one thing. For her girls.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #bonniebird

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 month ago

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Brainrot Housekeeping: An update

I don't know how many times I've tried to find the best way to say this, but I'll put the major updates upfront and go into detail under the cut :')

To get straight to the point, I'm going to be retiring from this blog in a few days.

No, I'm not leaving the fandom

Yes, I'm going to keep creating! Just not on this blog

No, I'm not going to delete this blog

Yes, I'm still going to be relatively active as far as regular fandom activity goes

To go a little more into detail, I've had an ongoing situation at my workplace that quickly spiraled in all the wrong ways over the last month. I ended up having to resign as a last-ditch effort to preserve my physical safety, which obviously means that now my life is going to look very different from what it has for nearly the last two years.

My job (which I did love doing) involved a setup that allowed me the kind of time and space to pump out the amount of content that I have since I started this blog. Now that that's changing, I won't have the consistent, scheduled blocks of idle time to keep up my past posting schedule. Creativity will happen irregularly in my free time, and I'll want to spend it differently.

Which brings me to the future of my creative endeavors and involvement with the fandom - I don't think I'll be able to truly understand the impact this has had on my life for years to come. Having a community with all of you, getting back into my passion for writing and storytelling and creating after six years of giving up on it, finding out what it's like to watch a shared love and enjoyment for characters unfold into something real and exciting ... it's meant the world to me, and I can't thank every person who's been here for it enough. There's no way I'll leave any of this behind if I can help it.

So, no, I won't be writing for the Arcana M6 anymore, but I'm not leaving. I will still be running the Vesuvia Weekly event blog (and, if I have the brain farts for it, occasionally contributing my own submissions) and I will still be active in the Arcana Renaissance server. Not only will I be keeping this blog up, I'll also continue moving all of my writing posts onto Ao3 as well for a more cohesive, effective archive for anybody who just wants to browse M6 content. I won't be taking writing prompts anymore, but I'll do my best to stay on top of answering asks!

As for what I'll be doing next, to be honest, I'm actually pretty excited. I've had an idea rattling around in my head for a while that's begging to be written and illustrated and composed for, and I've finally reached the mental space to do it. I'm already in love with my main cast of characters and the dystopian, fantasy-punk-ish world they live in. If I ever manage to get my ideas off the ground, I'll be more than happy to invite anyone interested to watch it develop and unfold. :D

(And no, this will not involve Dorian at any point lol. I'd rather learn to code and build my own website)

If you've read this far, I can't thank you enough. You've taught me life lessons and prompted me to grow as a person in creativity, kindness, community, and joy. I've learned what it means to hold love and space for others in new ways. You've enriched my life in important and tangible ways and you'll always have a piece of my gratitude. I never would've imagined an experience like this, but boy am I glad it's happened.

Until next time!

brainrot

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana game

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tteokdoroki · 2 years ago

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*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— playing defence + yoichi isagi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — you bitch slap kaiser for talking smack about your boyfriend. perhaps isagi is rubbing off on you.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, crack, fluff, suggestive towards the end, violence, smack talk, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, established relationship, pro player!isagi, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 2.2K.

⭑ notes — greetings all! isagi brain rot is so real rn, i swear i have like six wips for him... anyways this was a silly little idea that popped into my head lmao kinda cringe but i had fun with it !! enjoy ! - m.list ✩

your boyfriend is somewhat of a conundrum.

the world knows yoichi isagi as the ruthless heart of blue lock’s success. a man that’s unrelenting on the field with his strategic mind and frightening air of dominance poured into his every play. every movement he makes is calculated meticulously, the greed for a goal simmering in his blood. isagi as a pro player is foul mouthed and messy — taunting his opponent until they crumble into nothing but dust before his very eyes.

the media thinks he’s cocky, but rightfully so. after all yoichi isagi is the catalyst for a new generation of japanese soccer. the girls love him, he’s charming in interviews without meaning to be — they like how he talks about you. as if you’re a gem that’s worth millions. precious.

the isagi that you know has a tender touch and his soul warm, he wears his heart right on his sleeve and never lets you go a moment without knowing you’re appreciated. the isagi that you know is encouraging, he’s always on your side. if he needs to, he’ll sweet talk you with honey glazed words and kiss you until your thoughts fizzle out into stardust.

isagi is good.

he’s good to his friends, his teammates, his parents — he’s almost too good to be true. as if he’s been peeled from the pages of a shoujo romance manga or ripped from the silver screen of a perfect Hollywood romcom. a literal walking green flag. you’d say that you were lucky to have him, and yoichi would spin it on you — using strings of sweet words to express just how deep and profound his love is for you, praising you just enough to melt you into a love sick puddle of goo. and he’d mean it, sincerity swirling in his whirlpooling blue eyes. he swears by it.

so when someone pisses your isagi off, when they hurt him — you can’t help but lose your shit.

it happens during a practise match with a few of the players that joined during the neo-egoist league. although it’s been years since then and the blue lock project has become a formidable team, it keeps the boys on their feet to play with those with other worldly styles of soccer. the match had been going well, isagi trailblazing across the pitch and leaving nothing but a trail of destruction and despair behind — you were proud of him, amazed by him and the talents he possesses. to see him in his element makes your heart swell.

you don’t know kaiser very well — just that he’s super big and plays for the german team that gave isagi his leg up in the soccer world. you’ve heard from others about how much of a dick he could be and the intense rivalry he had with your boyfriend back when the blue lock project first started. you don’t know kaiser well but that information alone was enough to get your back up whenever he was in close range of yoichi.

and rightfully so. because you see the way he prods and pokes at the beautiful, sensitive parts of your lover as they race across to the penalty area. you notice how it rattles isagi, gets him all up in his head. you hear kaiser say something along the lines of:

“what’s with your shitty plays, yoichi? surely if you’re the heart of blue lock then the future of soccer is bound to be doomed.” he skirts around your boyfriend, intercepting a pass he was meant to receive from nagi. “pathetic, to see how much this star has fallen. i should crush you.”

you’ve heard all the insults the blue lock boys throw at each other before but this is nothing like usual. rin itoshi has said much worse to isagi right in front of your face (and isagi right back, foul mouthed motherfucker) but you know that’s a defence mechanism to how rin truly thinks and feels.

michael kaiser is just an asshole, plain and simple.

and that kind of behaviour doesn’t fly with you when it comes to yoichi.

you storm onto the pitch from the sidelines before your mind can even catch up to your body. the other players working around your boyfriend and his rival stop their movements as you stroll past them, snapped out of their egoist state by the referee whistle that calls for you to stop.

“m-ma’am! you can’t be on the pitch!”

you walk right past ness, weave between kurona, bachira and hiori, and right up to the blonde haired perpetrator himself. you’re polite about it too, tapping him on the shoulder to interrupt the narcissistic monologue he’s giving to isagi and showing him your sweetest, kindest smile.

there’s a split second before the blunt force of your fist collides with michael kaiser’s cheek and he’s knocked to the ground from the weight of it.

“you better watch who the fuck you’re talking to, you clownish freak.”

“babe?” isagi jumps into action despite his shock and the sniggers from other players on the field. he wraps his strong arms around your middle and tugs you into his chest with a winded laugh. “precious, what are you doing here?”

“he can’t talk to you like that!”

“but baby, you can’t be here—“

“this isn’t good.” bachira sings from a safe distance.

“fuck! what the actual fuck?” kaiser swears, using the sleeve of his jersey to wipe the blood from his bruising nose. “who’s crazy groupie is this?”

another wave of anger crashes through your veins, your blood at its boiling point as his words register within you. “excuse me?” isagi snarls, clearly unimpressed, loosening his hold on you while you struggle against your boyfriend’s lean frame.

“so what? you get your girlfriend to play defence for you and then act like i’m in the wrong? i said, get this groupie away from me—!”

before anyone on the pitch can realise, you’re free from isagi’s hold and you’re on kaiser like white on rice — fisting his sweatshirt between the same pretty fingers that treat isagi like he’ll break with too much force. “you wanna say that again, shitstain?” you run your tongue over your teeth, the menacing glint to your eye making you look like you’re a predator about to hunt down her prey. the blonde shakes underneath you as you pin him to the grass — an insult rolling around on his tongue. “i wouldn’t waste my words. you should just lay down and die before you take another sucker punch from this groupie.”

“do you have any idea how much this face is worth? i should—“

“gimme a break michael kaiser,” to your left you can hear bachira chanting something about ‘no violence’, bouncing around excitedly and a wicked grin tugs on the corner of your lips. “you’re not worth shit to me. so keep fucking around and find out, pretty boy. you talk smack about yoichi again and i swear your face won’t be the only goods i damage.”

“jeez, you’re just as crazy as that wanna be protagonist over there—“ is all he can muster before he flinches back from your fists that raise a over your head.

isagi moves quicker this time, scooping you up from underneath your armpits despite how you huff, puff and protest. “alright, alright, you’re done here. let’s go, princess.” he says sheepishly. maybe he’s been rubbing off on you a little too much.

his comforting touch slides down to your hand, grabbing at it to drag you off the pitch for the sake of kaiser’s safety, keeping everyone else out of harms way. and isagi just about gets you off the green before you set your sights on your next victim — ness, who can’t help but make faces at you as you trudge after your boyfriend.

drawing a line over your throat with your thumb, you make direct eye contact with him. “you’re next, shitty little meat-rider—! ow! ‘ichi!” you bark, but isagi quickly scoops you up again like a cat holding her kitten by the nape.

you have no choice but to back down for now.

“yanno, you really didn’t have to do that.”

isagi let’s you go once you’re back in the locker rooms to check on your hand. he crouches before you (where you sit just a level above him on the metal bench), holding an ice pack to your knuckles with the trace of a smile on his lips, only lifting it to see if the swelling has gone down. isagi reads you like an open book, he’s got you all figured out so he leaves you with the space to react and have your little tantrums.

besides, it’s cute that you get so pissed off when it comes to him. watching your nose scrunch up and your lips twist into a pout while you fight your own outburst just makes his heart beat for you a little faster.

“oh i fucking did! he was being so horrible to you and i couldn’t just let it slide!” you huff as your temper flares, shoulders sagging and arms crossing over your chest. he says nothing for a moment and lifts the compress from your hand to check the damage.

“look at you, precious girl. you’ve only gone and hurt yourself,” even when you’re throwing a fit like this, yoichi can only see the beauty in you — his cheeks flushing at how much you care for him. the dark haired striker flips through a first aid kit that rests at your feet, looking for disinfectant to clean up your split knuckles. “and, as for kaiser… well, he’s always like that.”

“well, i don’t like kaiser. i hope a bird shits on his head and both sides of his pillows are warm.”

“bird shit is supposed to be a sign of good luck, baby.”

“don’t test me yoichi isagi.”

he dabs at your wounds with a cotton pad and a brownish liquid that smells like the dettol your mom would keep in the cabinet under the kitchen sink for when you got yourself into similar situations like this as a kid. but instead of scolding you like she would, yoichi tends to your cuts and scrapes either upmost care. still smiling to himself. smiling at you. resisting the urge to burst with affection.

“you’re gonna have to apologise, precious.” he mutters absentmindedly, wincing when you do.

“i-i’m not going to, he deserved it!” that much is true, kaiser is clown who needs to be put in his place but it shouldn’t have been by you and at the expensive of your precious hands getting hurt.

you’re in more pain than you’re willing to show, and it bothers isagi just a little bit that you’re experiencing it because of him.

“well he did, but ego won’t be happy.”

“did ego make you apologise for all those times you beat the crap out of your teammates for even looking at me? for stealing your goals?” you roll your eyes, leaning away from your doting boyfriend in protest.

isagi grabs at your wrist firmly, tugging you back into place so he can start wrapping your hand up — ignoring the way his face and the tips of his ears start to burn up in embarrassment. “well no… but that’s different. friendly competition.”

“hardly! may i remind you that shidou literally couldn’t walk for a week straight after he commented on my ass? because of you?”

“i was defending your honour! and keep still!”

you give isagi a pointed look. hypocrite. “okay, but what about when rin said you couldn’t fuck for the life of you and then you proved your point. using me. in front of him. was that about honour or about your ego? mister egoist.” isagi’s big blue eyes instantly shoot up to meet yours and blushes a crimson that could rival the shade of the older itoshi brother’s hair. “itoshi couldn’t look at me for weeks!”

“point taken.” knowing that he won’t win this argument (if you could even call it that), isagi finishes up with bandaging your hand and takes a seat next to you, a comfortable silence settling over you both while he attempts to piece together why you love him this much. to play knight in shining armour to his damsel in distress.

“are you…really going to make me apologise yoichi?” you ask him sheepishly after some time, leaning into him for comfort.

“not if you don’t want to, precious.” he hums, fondly brushing a thumb over the back of your bandaged hand. a silent thank you. a hidden i love you.

“good,” you whine now that all of your adrenaline’s worn off and you can really feel the consequences of punching a world class striker in the face. “now kiss my knuckles. they hurt.” holding up your hand to isagi’s face, you shake it as if to rid yourself of the painful ebb to it.

“better?” isagi complies, his lips soft against your skin.

“much.”

“so spoilt,” he adds. your boyfriend’s voice stays low while he plays with your bruised fingers and checks them over, resting his head against your own affectionately. “next time you throw a punch in my name, tuck your thumb into your fist to minimise the damage. i don’t like seeing you get hurt.”

“so you did like seeing me punch kaiser.” you giggle, squirming when isagi drops your hand to pull you into his lap possessively. his loving grin spreads even further when your eyes widen at a certain…hardness poking your inner thigh.

“oh yeah, super hot. i love it when you get mad ‘n start talking shit for me.”

isagi doesn’t make it back to practice, too caught up in showing you just how much he loves it when you start fights over him.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi x reader #isagi x you #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi fluff #blue lock x you #yoichi isagi x reader #bllk x you #isagi yoichi x you #yoichi isagi x you #isagi drabble #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock imagines #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

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444st4rg1rl · 3 months ago

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Roomies

18+ , 5.5k words

tags : roommate!reader, female!reader, sorta sidekick!reader, roommate!Logan, roommate!Wade, Best Friend!Wade, enemies to lovers, harsh words, very tiny angst, smut, oral sex (f) , unprotected p in v, fingering (f), cursing.

a/n: I couldn’t get this idea out of my head, also small spoilers to Deadpool & Wolverine.

The one where you fucking hate your new roommate, but shit he’s also kinda hot.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

“You think Murdock is willing to take a roommate?

Wade has made himself comfortable in his bed in his room, the one out of two rooms in his apartment that is housing three people. It was nice when it was just you and Wade, best buds, partners in crime, pookie and shookie. Whatever the fuck, it had always been you and Wade. Now it’s you, Wade and Logan. Possibly the worst fucking addition to the duo. Doesn’t he know there is always a duo in a trio?

“Gasp! Is it because of the smell? Because pookie no where deep in reddit told me how to clean up-”

You put your hand up to stop him, face full of confusion yet the sheer idea of whatever Wade has to say next kills the curious cat roaming in your thoughts. You lean on his door frame - the doors not fully open out of fear but it’s enough to not want to step foot deep in the room - and closed enough for your eyes to be saved from the atrocity he was talking about.

“Wade, please, I can’t fucking take it anymore I am fucking loosing it. I can’t even get water without seeing that sad sack of shit mopping on our fucking couch! It’s sad, Wade, if you loved me you'd kick him out.”

The childish ultimatum is dumb but maybe the puppy dog eyes you have going on as you stare at Wade big eyed and faux sadness. Overall this is childish of you, to beg your best friend to kick out the guy who just had to fucking help you save the world seems pathetic and rude of you. But who gives a fuck? Logan is rude, an arrogant asshole, a prick, douche, down-under fucker. He is the worst hero? you have had the displeasure of meeting. But no, God strikes you down on your hatred of this old man once more; he makes him hot.

“How could you say that about a war veteran?”

The sarcasm combined with Wade talking to Mary Puppins like a baby rather than looking at you, has you wishing Cassandra killed you herself back when she had the chance. It was interesting to say the least, getting thrown into a rag team with Wade and being told to save the multiverse was not your usual mission but hey, money is money. That wasn’t really your style, the whole big hero sham. Vigilante, mercenary, the people's people, too hot to handle, now that’s just one big umbrella term you’d throw yourself under. You met Wade when he wasn’t deadpool and you were some weird eighteen year old who was a little too good with knives and way too lucky to be alive. It felt natural then and there to just fall under his wing and have him throw you out there, figuratively and literally (there was the 32 floor incident and the scars to prove it). Your thankful for it even if it means some scars and permanent migraine because twenty-three year old you now has the confidence to throw a kitchen knife that was embedded in the wall next to you- right into Wades head and slam the door shut, something eighteen year old would have hesitated to do at first.

“Nice clothes ya got there, Bub.”

Logan’s deep voice rattles through your system, spiking your nervous system higher than it normally is around him, (usually very high). You spin around from Wade’s door, the curse you had ready to drip off your tongue is gathered right back into your mouth after you get a look at him. Tall, dark, so big and strong; the words Karen Page had uttered to you the first time she saw Logan after you and Wade had brought him around the group you guys converse in. The words that had haunted you at night, the nights where you catch him and Wade fighting and his massive arms are on display for you to shamelessly stare at or the nights where you curse what God you might have pissed off in your past multiverses that put your very thin bedroom wall right next to the shower wall. Hearing The Wolverine, the one that you had read in comics growing up, untouchable and badass Wolverine, was the one you heard bite down on his knuckles to quiet down his deep groans as he got himself off in the shower. You close your eyes to regain what you were gonna say and look at Logan.

“Thanks, go fuck yourself.”

You turn to make the small trek to your room, looking down at clothes Logan had chosen to comment on. An oversized and stretched t-shirt that has Spider-man's logo on it, the shirt long enough to reach your thighs so like always you for-go the pants. You're not gonna change your comfiness for one person who decided to be a roach in your living room.

Logan’s large hand on your wrist is what gets your anger sparking as he stops you from entering your room.

“Can I fucking help you?”

Harsh words cut through your mouth as you remove your wrist from his hand, if you were to miss the warmth it provided, then well that’s later you in your bed problem.

“Are you going with Wilson tomorrow?”

Tomorrow, a day job that you and Wade had picked up, some bullshit, go kill this person,yadda yadda, and here's the money. The main reason you're so excited? A day away from him.

You don’t even bother to say yes, you nod your head at him, open your door, stare at him, ignore the smirk, and slam the door. Wait why the fuck did he make that face?

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Now, to be truthful you should have pushed back against Logan last night. Yelled and pushed for a fight on why did he care where you were going, why did he make that face at you. You really should have, instead you chose peace. Now you live with violence in the present. Your suit clings too tight to you right now and one of your knives is digging into your thigh and oh, fucking Logan is apparently is coming. There goes any excitement you had about the day trip away from the bastard. You give Wade the silent treatment in the apartment, on the way to the car, during his shameful ‘Careless Whisper’ performance in the car and halfway to the mission. Wade drives, it’s an amusing site to watch the rather large man sit in the driver seat of the 2008 Nissan Rogue (Hondas hold too much PTSD for the group). You make yourself comfortable in the passenger and try to tune out Logan seating himself in the back.

Wade leans over, not subtly, and puts a hand cupping around his masked mouth and whispers rather loudly-

“Is this because I washed your suit too tight? Or is it your allergy to cheap soaps? I know your skin is bougie, bestie.”

You're going to kill him, you and Logan. You go to grab at the stickshift in the center console to fuck up the car but Wade knows you to well and already has a hand on the stick shift. Hearing Logan chuckle has you moving quickly. A gun is pressed right to the center of his unfortunately gorgeous forehead and takes off safely as you make direct eye contact with him.

“I will fucking pull the trigger right now.”

“Ya know you won’t Bubs, you're too much of a pussy for that.”

The familiar nickname sends a shiver down your spine, and a heat you're too known with through the lower parts of you but the anger from his doubting overshines like usual, intrusively you unbuckle your seat belt and jump in the back seat and pistol whip Logan across the face.

Bad choice

Logan stares at you as the gash from the pistol is rapidly repairing itself but the bloody evidence makes itself permanent on his face. He’s quick to act, unbuckling his seatbelt and going to launch himself at you.

You don’t have any fancyshamchy powers of that sort, you heal fast, just like the other two in the car but not that fast, maybe a day or two. And you're lucky, one would call it a power and someone wouldn’t. But fuck your lucky you avoid Logans fast coming fist towards your head. You duck and lean back on the seat kicking your feet out to hit him in the stomach. He gets pushed back and his head hits the widow opposite of you hard and loud. The site has you cackling, from your view as your half laid down on the seat and one leg half up and the other hanging off the seat. Logan’s broad body is pushed up against the window. Your cackling comes to a yelp as Logan is quick to pounce on you. His large body pins yours down to the seat. One arm is quick to grab your hands, capturing them in one hand that he brings above your head. His other arm across your throat pressing down hard enough to cut off your air supply.

You blame the lack of air for the thought that pushes through your mind, the sight of him above you right now all furious and heated. His thick forearm heavy on your throat should have you kicking him immediately off you but you falter. The worst part? Logan notices. You're a second to late for your normal reaction time. You watch in slight horror as Logan realizes this above you.

“Hey! Are you guys fucking back there? Listen I know where in the middle of enemies to lovers fanfic but C’MON!”

For fucking once Wade decided to be useful these past two days, you ignore his spewing but Logan seems distracted. You get the high ground and kick him off, shoving a baby knife into his neck and scrambling your ass back into the front seat by Wade. As you adjust yourself back into your seat, the feeling of hot slick between your thighs has become a rather uncomfortable problem that has aroused. You shift uncomfortably in your seat and make the mistake of catching Logan’s eyes in the rearview mirror and he gives you a sideways glance. Fuck, fucking mutants, fucking weird senses, fucking dog boy.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

If Logans being truthful, he never hated you. Hate’s too strong of a word, he does although despise you. Loathe, detest, revulse, abhorrence, those are the words Logan would use if someone asked him to describe his feelings towards you. The annoying girl who had saved the world with him and who he shares an apartment with. The very annoying girl who he wants to pummel into the ground, and then into a bed.

Since the whole ‘we saved the universe now we gotta go back to New York and hey I guess you can come with us’ has happened to him has tested his patience.

It’s rough adjusting to a new life let alone a new fucking universe and she makes it no better. Logan truly wants to hate her the way he portrays, he wonders if she gets tired of arguing all the time. Being so uptight and rude twenty-four seven, to have anger vibrate through her bones. Every conversation they had is laced with malice.

“Why the fuck are you in my fridge.” - “I didn’t realize you owned the whole fridge, girl.’

“You're a reckless waste of space, I'm surprised Cassandra failed to kill you.” - “Ain’t yo whole team dead cause of you?”

“You sure Wilson’s just not pitying you, Bubs?” - “How are you over two hundred years old and you still can’t pull bitches?”

She’s quick-witted, sharp tongued and annoyingly gorgeous. The moment Logan laid his eyes on you, he felt his blood spike faster to his heart and his dick. Pretty young girl covered in blood holding a 9 mm, he was enamored, then you opened your mouth and it was a wrap (discreet wrap). Hating you publicly and his shower thoughts is what he had lived by for the past two months yet here he sits now in the back of the car, Wades shitty pop playlist blasting, and the image of you pinned underneath of him with your big wide eyes staring up at him is burned into his head. You faltered, he saw it himself the way you went lax and the way you liked it. He’s not stupid, he bluntly watches as you push your way out from under and throw yourself back into the passenger seat. He can’t control it but he smells you, the way you have to squeeze your thigh together to get some relief.

It sends him into a frenzy as he catches your glazed eyes in the rearview mirror, he curses himself as he feels his blood rush and his cock hardens in his suit. Fuck

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

You're sure Wade is the only person who enjoyed the mission, the only part you enjoyed is the fat wad of cash that was pushed into your hand. The three of you shuffle into the car that is somehow still standing. The three of you all covered in various contrivances along with Wade's now missing left arm. The car getting stained with every movement mixed with the hot interior is worse than a crowded hallway in highschool. You roll your window down and let the cool air soothe over your skin like a new layer of skin.

“I can’t believe those perverted bastards took my arm! Hope they like jerking their dicks off with sandpaper because…’’ Wade’s nonsense lulls you to a slumber that makes you ache less.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

You're a loudmouth, not as bad as Wade but you need your fix of arguing and winning. Which is what has you standing at your door thinking hard before you open it.

Logan’s ignoring you, well, you're also ignoring him. You’ve both been trying to pretend the other doesn’t exist as one can in a 15x10 apartment layout. Just start some shit, call him fucking lazy or ugly. You psych yourself up ready to start the argument and win. The door opens and there you go sauntering out of it in your big t-shirt and no pants. Logan makes a quick glance towards your direction but otherwise seems preoccupied on the television in front of him . You stand in the kitchen behind him mouth agape as you struggle to think of the words, angrily you grab water and return back to your room.

This keeps happening, you and Logan keep avoiding each other, not more than sparing a glance. Of course, it’s Wade who says something. He catches you as you're in your room and Logans of and about in New York.

“So did the Big Bad Wolf really eat your grandma, huh?”

“I'm gonna make you eat your grandma.”

“Kinky, but my grandma was a fierce woman.” He launches himself onto your bed and grabs your fluffy throw pillow to hold, Mary Puppins trailing in after Wade. “But seriously pookie, this is odd behavior for you two. Y’know you guys are usually like cats and dogs after each other. Oh! You think the song ‘It’s Raining Men’ took into consideration ‘it's raining cats and dogs out”…....

“I hear Logan jerk off in the shower”

You're not completely sure why that's the first thing you say to Wade, but it shuts him up. He stares at you comically before he loudly gasps and goes to cover Mary Puppins ears before excitedly staring at you. If he wasn’t horrifically scarred you could almost compare him to a teen girl right now.

“Sexual Tension! You have to fuck The Wolverine!”

You stare at Wade like he just said he was never going to shoot again.

“The fuck are you spewing about?”

You have no other choice but to listen to Wade spew about how to fix all your problems you have to fuck Logan. You get up as Wade is on his second speech on how to suck dick 101, you push him out of your room and depressingly stare at your wall before you realize.

“Fuck!”

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

After your conversation with Wade it's all that plagues your mind. The way the veins pop in his arms, how his chest looks in his wife beater. The dog tags that hand around his neck, you want to fall in front of your face and then choke him out. It catches up to you finally, after all you still share a kitchen with him. It's awkward, more awkward then a teen boy confessing his crush, it's kinda awkward where a two hundred year old mutant and a twenty three year old something of the sorts have a mutual hatred but sexual deviance of the other.

It’s one-thirty four at night when you and Logan run into each other. You're grabbing a glass of water and he's sitting at the small Island nursing a beer.

“Ya hate me so much Bubs you had to lock yourself away?”

You glare at him, eyes following the way he laughs at his own sentence and how his lips close around the top of his beer. You move your eyes up to catch his already glaring at you. You rack your mind to what to say, to embarrass him.

“Bathroom walls are thin ya know, Old man.”

Got him. He freezes as he sets down his beer on the counter before continuing to stare at you, you smile at your upperhand in this.

“Don’t know why you wanna piss me off so bad Old man, that's the only way you get it up?”

Low blow, but who cares. You certainly don’t as you watch as he racks his brain to say something. You beat him to it again.

“Why don’t you get yourself something nice, a bar, club, something. Or has it been too long for you to try anything with civilization?”

He stands up and fuck if he ain’t tall. You watch as he makes the small space in between you, he stands at his full. You reach about his shoulder so you have to lift your head to stare at him, he’s already staring down at you with a gleam in his eye. One of his hefty arms comes down on the counter behind you, caging you. His other arm rests by his side, an escape route if you still have the shreds of your dignity that tells you to leave, go back to your room and go to sleep. Yet Logan tilts his head at you and watches as his lips curl into a smirk.

“Harsh accusations from someone-”

His words are cut off as you put a hand to cover his mouth, you just know he’s going to mention the moment in the car. Your chest are pressed together as you keep your hand tight around his mouth. Your eyes are filled with something akin to embarrassment but something else.

“Shut it. That was a moment of weakness.”

Logan grabs your hand that's covering his mouth and holds it tightly in his hand, it’s when you don’t jerk your hand back that Logan cages you in with both arms. There goes my dignity.

“Yeah Bubs, moment of weakness. That's why you've been avoiding me like the plague huh?” He comes closer to your face, one large hand sneaking up to grip at your chin. “Scared you might like it?”

No fucking way. You feel how your heart stops in your chest, how all you can do is have your eyes scan over his face. You push your thighs together in some relief from the feeling of molten lava being run through your system down to your panties. You lean your face closer to him. You grip your fingers hard in the marble counter behind you. Trying to hold on to whatever last bit of anger that is spurring through your body.

“Didn’t you avoid me too huh? Don’t point fingers.”

It’s like it was a trigger that switched something inside of him. The hand that had been caging you in is holding your waist in a grip so taut you could feel the fingertip indents forming. Logan seizes your chin again, a quicker way to shut you up.

“Fuck ya want me to, huh?” He leans his large figure down to be only inches away from each other's faces. The scowl on his face shouldn’t send a thrill down your body but any shreds of sensible thoughts have been thrown out the window moments before. Logan watches you intently, he sees how you have a remark ready to spit at him like poison.

“I’ve watched you parade yourself around this fucking apartment like this-” he grips the edge of the long t-shirt your wearing “-and I had to do nothing about it.”

You should bunch up your shoulder, fight back, but it seems any of your usual inhibitions are clawed away when it comes to Logan. You're a simple girl at heart, your eyes catch how thick the arms that are encasing you and the moment the idea you want them to hold you while he rams from the back is when you give up any thoughts that are holding you back.

“Why don’t you do something now?”

It’s ballsy but it’s worth it for the way you can see Logan squint his eyes and push himself harder against you, the cold counter pushed into your back a small relief to your hot skin. His hand gripping your chin goes down to match the equally harsh grip on your waist. The shitty dim light from the kitchen overhead shadows over Logan perfectly, light defining the muscles that are being pulled taunt in his neck and shoulders. He drops his head to have lips brush over your ear.

“I hear ya too, in your room. How those fucking fingers of yours aren’t enough, you wish that was me instead huh, Bubs?” His last words come out breathy with a hint of a chuckle falling off his lips. He drops his head on your shoulder and you feel your body run hot at the amount of contact. “Fuck, I could smell ya in there all the fucking time. Knew you hear me through the walls, girl.”

You tilt your head slightly letting your plush lips ghost over his ear like he did moments ago.

“This doesn’t change anything, you're arrogant, egotistical and an asshole.”

Logan lifts his head confused at your words before you grab his face into your hands, a laughable size difference, and push his lips onto yours. He catches on quickly moving his lips against yours rather harshly, having a hand slide to your neck to keep you in place, the other hand pushing you against him. You groan at the feeling of his hardened cock pressed up by your upper thigh. It’s quick and rough with him, the way he grabs at your skin and handles you.

His calloused hands reach under your thighs and grunts out a ‘jump’ and that's exactly what you do. Letting your thighs hit the cold counter is a burn relief on your burning thighs. His lips run down from your lips to your neck, his beard rubbing against your skin has you throwing your head back into the cabinets that rest behind you. His hands knead your plush thighs and you pull at his hair tufts and he groans into your neck.

He pulls away completely leaving you a confused mess. You must look like a sight, shirt falling off one shoulder and bunching at your waist. Hair a wreck framing your face and your kiss swollen lips. You go to mumble out a disoriented ‘what’ but Logans already grabbing at the undersides of your thighs and you're pulled into his arms. His fingertips grip into the backs of your thighs leaving bruises in their wake, you take the advantage to run your hands down his tank top clad shoulders and chest feeling the hard muscle ripple under your touch.

“Say it.”

You stare at him slightly confused as he sets you down on your bed, his hands resting on the tops of your thighs. He’s looking at you so earnestly it almost hurts.

“Say what, Logan?” You lean back on your arms before deciding on gaining a surge of confidence. You grab at the edge of your shirt and rip it over your head. Free the nipple and all that but thank fuck is all you think. It’s like a reward watching his eyes land on your bare chest and the way his breath hitches. You pull him down by his tank top. “I want you Logan.”

The reaction is spontaneous, he’s leaning back and taking his tank top off from the hem behind his neck. You crawl back onto your bed and he follows you, in this state you could ask him to follow you to any universe and he would. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down back to your lips, his hands gliding smoothly over your torso before he grabs one of your tits in hand and pulls harshly at your nipple. He does it again on the other nipple after he hears the gasp that comes out your mouth. He moves his kissed lips down from your lips to your neck. You catch the image, his massive body crowding yours, a shield from the outside world. His lips detach from the purple hazing mark starting to form on your neck and attach his lips to one of your taut nipples while kneading the other one. You snake your hands into his hair and pull. Into the spank bank box.

It’s when his lips start trailing down your tits to your stomach, kissing and playing with the plush skin before he kisses around your thigh. Teasing on purpose, avoiding where you need him the most. He lets his thumbs enter the hem of your painties before he looks back at you.

“You know how long I’ve waited to be here, baby?”

“Then show me, c’mon”

Logan pulls your painties off so slowly it should be a crime but with how he kisses your pussy like it’s a prize bails him out. His arms wrap around your thighs to give him better access, a forearm going across your stomach to hold you down like you're in the wrong for squirming. He licks up and down your pussy and fuck it makes you angry how good he is at it. His tongue teasing your hole and you whimper, you pull at his hair tufts and he looks at you, his eyes are teasing and his mouth and chin are covered in your juices. He maintains eye contact as he moves his lips over to your clit and sucks, he keeps his mouth closed around the bundle and watches how you moan and squirm under him. He removes one arm from around your waist to thrust a single finger into your tight hole. He doesn’t make a remark on the gasp but pulls up for where he was and stops his movement.

“Stop fucking moving, c’mob be good for me, Bubs.”

The words have you melting into your sheets as you try to stop your brash movements. The combination of the second finger he added and his tongue working wonders on your sensitive clit has your stomach forming that familiar knot. You grab at one of his arms to signal him but he doesn’t relent.

“Gonna cum ,gonna cum, Fuck!”

“I know Bubs let it out, yeah just like that baby.”

He sits up for where he was laying down, your body still spread out for him as you try to catch your breath from the orgasm. You trail your hand down his toned and muscular abs to his jean buttons, slowly undoing the button and the zipper. Logan looks down at you with a growing smirk on his face as he finishes the job of pulling his pants a little down his thighs.

“Ya want something, girl? Ya gotta get it.”

You push yourself up onto your knees as he stands at the edge of your bed, shoving down his boxers, his cock bounces to his stomach, a flush coating the tip as pearly white precum beads out. You take his cock in hand, salivating over the happy trail in your view. You pump his cock a few times before you lean in and kiss the tip. You're a few kitten licks deep before he pulls your head back and shakes his head.

“Another time, girl. I’ve been waiting too long to be inside of you.”

You groan and fall back, letting your legs spread for the man you hate so much. He adjusts himself in between your legs trying to make space for his large figure. He looks down at you, one hand on his cock and the other on your thigh, holding it up to his waist. He strokes at your calf in a fond way, maybe a ‘sorry i'm about to wreck your pussy.’

He lines himself up and swipes his cock head through your folds, letting his head hand forward from the feeling. You wrap both legs around his colossal waist in an attempt to have him sheath himself fully inside you. He laughs from above you and lines his fat tip against your hole. Sliding himself inch by inch, you look down and he’s only half way in and it’s too full. He tries to push in more and you whine, throwing your head back and putting your hands on his chest. He takes a hand and grabs one of your hands on his chest and sheaths himself fully inside of you.

“Yeah Bub? Too much?”

It’s cocky how he laughs above you, laughing at your whining. You shift your hips under him trying to get comfortable. His eyes watching your every move, you kick his thigh, for being cocky and a signal to move. He puts a forearm by your head and another on the thigh wrapped around the waist. He starts slowly moving his hips thrusting in and out.

“Really Old man, c’mon let loose.”

“You don’t want me to do that, baby”

You roll your eyes from under him, you shove at his shoulders and have him fall on to his back. He stays snug inside you as you adjust yourself on top of him, watching as he gives you a one over, both his hands gripping the fat on your hips. You start lifting your thighs up and down, putting your hands on his chest making an excuse to feel on those godly abs. The grunts he gives from under you are spurring you on despite the burn in your thighs.

Logan is a simple man, he watches the lewd faces you make as you lean forward, your tits caught between your arms as you bounce your thighs on him. He lets you do your own thing, admiring you. But the primal urge is stronger, he grabs at your hips and fucks up into you. His cock moving at rapid speed thrusting in and out of from under, you keep yourself up on this chest. Your cockdrunk on him. The feeling of him fucking into you is making you dumb, you let your tits press to his chess and attempt to kiss him. You're more so moaning into his mouth than kissing him. You let him switch places, manhandling you onto your knees. He practically mounts you like a dog in heat , his chest pressed against back. He’s got his forearm pressed to your collarbones, hand on your throat, his other hand reaches down to rub at your clit. Your a moaning mess, to fucked out to care about anything. Your whines of Logan's name has him thrusting harder into. He leans his head on your shoulder turning towards your ear.

“Yeah, you close baby, I can feel it. It’s okay Bubs, I'm here, let it out. Cum on this dick Bub.”

You let his words wash over you, coaxing you into your second orgasm. He fucks you through it, before he stills his thrust. You grab his arm- “Inside, cum inside”- he lets out a groan that rattles in your chest and shoots hot ropes of cum inside. Logan adjusts you both to lay down, your upper half on his chest, his half hard cock still cum deep in your pussy. You're tempted to fall asleep at this until Logan opens his mouth.

“Still hate me, baby?”

You smack his chest not bothering to get up. You let yourself lay on his chest, grabbing your comforter and pulling it up to your chest, the blanket falling around his waist.

“You're still in jeans, on my bed.”

“I'll take em off for round two”

You don’t say anything just letting the both of you bask in the silence, Logan’s playing with your hair. It’s nice, up and until you hear the front door open. You brace yourself.

You forgot to lock the door, and in comes Wade.

“What the FUCK balls, without me, seriously?”

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #x men #x men x reader #x reader #female reader #he's so sexy it hurt #enemies to lovers #Logan

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llamagoddessofficial · 5 months ago

Note

📚 pretty please?

I shan't give too many details about this one, because I am pretty dedicated to writing it at this point - but Farmtale Sans is on the cards. Here's a teeny extract from the first chapter I've written out.

---

You sat down at the kitchen table. The chairs smelt of wood varnish. You had no idea what you were going to do for food, the last store you recalled passing on the way here felt like hours ago. You had no heating, no lights. No gas. Almost definitely no hot water.

You felt like just laying down on the floor and crying forever.

A knock on the front door.

You jumped out of your fucking skin. Someone was at the door? Suddenly, a bunch of horrible thoughts started racing through your head. Did you get the wrong house? Was the will wrong? Did the key just happen to fit? Is this someone’s home, and you just came in, kicked their carpet and sat at their table? You scrabbled over to the door, rattling the handle and eventually shoving it open.

... A massive, lanky skeleton monster stood before you.

“HELLO THERE!” He spoke extremely cheerfully, but in a volume that made you startle. He was wearing dark blue overalls, heavy black rubber boots, and an orange gingham-patterned top. “WHY, IT’S LOVELY TO FINALLY MEET YOU! I’M PAPYRUS, YOUR NEW NEIGHBOUR!”

He stuck out a huge hand, covered by a garden glove.

You stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, blinking up at the skeleton. He was... how did he get here so fast? Eventually you snapped yourself out of your rude gawking and took his hand, shaking cautiously.

“... Neighbour?” you managed to say. But there weren’t any houses around for what felt like miles...?

He nodded enthusiastically. “MY BROTHER AND I OWN THE FARM JUST OUTSIDE OF THE TOWN. WE’RE A HALF HOUR DRIVE AWAY.”

You paused. “You came out all that way, just to greet me?”

He seemed confused, for a moment, but quickly smiled again, even breaking into chuckles. “OH! YOU MUST BE FROM THE CITY, RIGHT? NYEHEHEH, YOU MUST THINK HALF AN HOUR IS A LONG DRIVE! NYEHEHEHE!”

... What a strange feeling. You’d never before met someone who could laugh right at you, yet not feel malicious at all. He still made you feel like he was laughing with you. Papyrus’ smile reached his eyes (eyesockets?) so much that he had smile lines in the bone.

You smiled yourself, a little. “Y-yeah, I guess I do think that’s a long way. I’m (y/n). How did you know I’d arrived?”

“TORIEL HAS BEEN LOOKING AFTER THIS HOUSE FOR A FEW YEARS. WHEN I HEARD IT WAS FINALLY GOING TO BE PUT TO USE, I STARTED DRIVING PAST EVERY DAY, TO BE CERTAIN THAT AS SOON AS OUR NEW NEIGHBOUR MOVED IN I’D BE ABLE TO GREET THEM LIKE A PROPER NEIGHBOUR SHOULD.” He spoke so fast, but so confidently. “I’M SO GLAD I WAS ABLE TO MEET YOU BEFORE I REACHED ONE HUNDRED VISITS!”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. “Th... thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“ANYWAY. NOW THAT I’VE INTRODUCED MYSELF, I MUST INSIST YOU JOIN US FOR DINNER!”

What? “Huh?”

“OF COURSE!” He nodded again, as if agreeing with himself. “IT IS NOT ONLY THE POLITE THING TO DO, BUT I HIGHLY DOUBT YOU HAVE IMMEDIATE DINNER PLANS THAT ARE HEALTHY OR NUTRITIOUS CONSIDERING YOUR LONG TRIP! I MUST INSIST THAT YOUR FIRST MEAL IN YOUR NEW COMMUNITY IS A GOOD ONE!”

... You could’ve cried. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as nightmarish as you thought.

“I’d love to. But I’ve really got to unpack everything first, and clean this old place out. We could exchange phone numbers?”

“I’LL HELP YOU UNPACK!”

You stared incredulously at the monster before you. Was he real? “I-I,”

“I’LL CALL MY BROTHER. I CAN’T GUARANTEE HE’LL BE HERE BEFORE WE’RE FINISHED, THOUGH, HE’S SUCH A SLOWPOKE.”

#then sans shows up and hes hot and sexy #obviously

272 notes · View notes

ghostofwriting · 6 months ago

Text

in London: but in my mind I play it back

Rafe x Reader

Warnings: mentions of cheating

Note: Another random drabble idea that popped into my head. This can be read as a stand-alone but it is the same Rafe and Reader as in London: I break done cause you're not around I might continue doing angst drabbles for this and by that I mean I have one other idea rattling inside my brain for this universe.

Not KS related.

Word Count: 914

Summary: Rafe sees her for the first time in years. He learns something that shows him he needs to let go.

He didn’t want to wake up today. Something was telling him to stay in bed a little longer and take his time.

He’s older now, more disciplined. Even on his day off he has to be out of bed and doing something. Today it was going to the grocery store.

He freezes when he sees her in the parking lot as he’s grabbing his reusable bags from the backseat of his truck. Her hair looks freshly cut and styled. The breeze makes her look like she’s just stepped out of a magazine shoot.

She looks older, grown up and just as beautiful as the last time he saw her. His breath is shallow as she turns around with the empty shopping cart ready to put it away.

Their eyes meet for the first time in years. Hers go wide when she notices him.

He didn’t want to wake up today.

“Hey.” He says awkwardly. He’s fidgeting with the straps of the bags in his hand and bouncing from one foot to the other.

“Hi.” She gives him a small wave, her body turned, slightly as she pushes the shopping cart into another one.

“How are you? Been a long time.” He walks closer to her but keeps a good distance between them.

She bods agreeing with his statement, “I’m well! How have you been?”

“Good, yeah, no I’ve been good.” Her body is still halfway turned to him. Showing him that she can’t stay for long.

“You look good.” He has no filter when it comes to her. Wants to be polite and not tell her that he’s still in love with her. That he’ll probably never not be.

“Thank you. You too.” She motions in the direction of her car, opening her mouth to say something but he cuts her off.

“Are you here to see family?” She doesn’t come to the outer banks anymore. No one ever sees her around. She lives in London. That’s all he knows. He thinks back to the days when he knew every little thing about her. The smell of her perfume, how many sugars she took in her coffee, the looks she gave him and the meanings behind every little micro expression. When she loved him.

“Uh-“ she swallows and smiles, “I’m here for my wedding.”

His mouth goes dry. His hands start to shake so he puts them in fists and digs his nails into his palm to stop the pain from spreading into his heart. She stares at him, a soft smile still on her lips. She’s so beautiful he could die right now and be content with it. Seeing her happy would be enough for him even if it’s not directed at him like it used to be.

She’s getting married. The girl he gave a promise ring to in their last year of high school is getting married and it’s not to him. Because he fucked up. Because she stopped looking at him like that the minute he betrayed her. His heart aches. It tells him to do something. To tell her that he loves her, get on his knees, and beg her to run away with him. It screams at him to stop the wedding. To fight one more time and leave a fire in his wake so she has no choice but to follow.

He can’t do that to her. He ruined her one too many times, he’s hurt her enough. She deserves better than him. She deserves to be happy. Deserves someone who didn’t sleep with her best friend. It hurts. It kills him to think this way. He wishes he could be the guy waiting on the other end of the aisle. He isn’t. Not in this life at least. He only has himself to blame.

“Congratulations.” He tells her. His hands still in fists at his side.

“Thank you!” She smiles wider, “It was nice to see you, I should get going.” She goes to turn around again but he can’t let her leave. Not yet.

“Are you happy?” He swallows.

She nods at him, “so happy.” His heart leaps for her once more.

“Good. Yeah, you deserve that.”

“Thank you, Rafe.” He hasn’t heard her say his name without hostility in such a long time. He melts at the sound of it leaving her lips.

He loves her. God does he love her.

And he lost her.

“Bye, Rafe.” She waves.

“Bye.” He whispers to himself, watching her walk away and get into her car.

The next time he sees her, if he sees her, she’ll be married. The woman he loves will be gone.

Anyone who knows him will know that after all these years he was still holding out hope. He thought that one day he would gather enough courage to go find her in London and make her believe him when he told her he had changed. He would fight for her and their love and he would be the one to get down on one knee and ask her for forever.

He dreamed that they would bump into each other at the beach by Tannyhill because she would be drawn there by their memories and he would ask her to come inside and they would start their journey back to each other.

She’s getting married. This weekend she’s getting married.

That alone leaves him empty of all the hopes and dreams.

He lets go.

He didn’t want to wake up today.

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outerbanks au #rafe fic #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fic

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futurecorps3 · 2 years ago

Note

Hello my love! I have heard your call for Kaz requests and I have an idea rattling around in my head!

Could you maybe do a Kaz x fem!Reader where they're in their early 20s and have been together for years and overcome Kaz's touch aversion (bc our poor boy deserves some healing 😭)? But that's not the idea, the idea is that the reader hasn't been sleeping for a few nights and ends up getting hurt because of it? Could be from fainting and hitting her head, slow reflexes on a job, etc. I trust your brilliant mind!

I can't wait to watch you grow as a writer!!!! ❤️

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐮𝐦

Masterlist<3

Summary: The lack of sleep Kaz has been warning his girl about finally has consequences. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem!reader Warnings: Mentions of overwoking, lack of sleep, blood, a very angsty moody angry sad Kazzle, mentions of blood and lost of conscience. The usual crow violence! Lmk if I missed any. Word Count: 3.5K whoops Requested: Yes

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I love the prompt, however and am very excited to work on this. Hope u like it nonnie and that last thing means the absolute world! <3

˚ · • . ° .

Now he knew he was in no position to demand her to rest. Kaz Brekker was known in his close circle for two things; killing whoever disrespected his love and always scheming. The electricity his brain consumed when plotting the next heist didn't even allow him to sleep when being tucked in with Y/N laying over his chest. But she never had the same issue before!

That's how it worked. She got mad because he wasn't sleeping and would reproach his ears off until he folded and left his papers to join her in bed. So, it was safe to say Kaz was startled when he noticed the absence of steps approaching his office. The clock read the time to be a quarter past midnight. He learned by endlessly scolding from you the hard way it was no use staying up late for a job when he had pretty much everything prepared, so he dropped everything and left to his room.

"Darling, are you-" his question was answered as he opened the door and saw her drawing on the little desk he got for her. "Hmm, hi love. It's quite early. What are you doing here?" Kaz wanted to laugh at that. Had she really lost notion of time that badly? "It's past midnight now, Y/N. What are you working on?" His shirt was discarded in some chair, along with his coat.

He was now in his dress pants and a black sleep blouse, leaning over the back of her chair to see the canvas. It was a picture of the sea, surely an image she hadn't been able to get out of her head after the quick trip you took to the docks with Wylan to ensure a better hiding spot, in case things went south on Saturday.

"I don't know if I'm getting the blues right... you know how it somehow turns gray when the day's rainy?" she wondered out loud. "Don't throw it away altogether, I know you're already thinking about it" "I'm not!" Y/N giggled, knowing fully her boyfriend could read her mind. "Fix it in the morning. Let's go to bed now, yes?" Kaz tried, tilting his head to her right side and nudging his nose a little on her cheek as she hummed in response.

It had taken a long time, many years, to reach these moments. Years of hoping she could one day have his arms draped around her waist in security, head on his chest without a care in the world, because all that really mattered was they'd be keeping each other warm with their bodies. Y/N was patient, not minding the baby-steps and Kaz's constant need to push her away because he thought she deserved better. Truth is, there was no one better for her.

Kaz had a hard time wrapping his head around this fact. Did you love him for him? A limping criminal who was too weak to even bear the thought of embracing you when tears streamed down your cheeks on a specially tough day? Why? It took convincing, long talks, difficult moments and even worse fights... but you made it.

She felt his steady heartbeat as they lay together in their silk black sheets, indulging in the beauty of it. Their breathings became one, and she swore there was no better place the saints could come up with as heaven. "Everything's ready?" "Yes, I figured I should come here with you instead of overthinking it all. I'll tell everyone the plan tomorrow and revise it again the day before" he took a deep breath, turning to face her and leaving a soft kiss on her lips.

"It's late, you don't seem tired" Kaz noted, Y/N's eyes nowhere near closing as they usually would by now. Her boyfriend, on the contrary, was starting to hide that beautiful icy green his irises held, then came a yawn to confirm his fatigue. "Rest, my love. I'm sure I'm not too far behind," she assured him, pecking his head as he lay on her chest now.

"Goodnight, Kaz".

˚ · • . ° .

It may as well have been minutes, or hours, days, for all she cared to reason. All she knew was that she couldn't sleep for the life of her. Kaz moved a lot in his sleep and after he lost hold of her, the night became a non-stop tossing and turning in their shared bed. She could hear the faint sound of carriages passing down their street, surely carrying some rich merchant who just had the night of his life betting or in one of the pleasure houses.

It had been a while since she felt this way. Pretty much every night prior Kaz offered her a permanent position on the crows after she worked with them was like this. The clock in their room, hanging on a wall distant from her, kept ticking and if it got quiet enough, she could've been able to hear the gears turning. Three in the bloody morning and Y/N had luckily gotten by far twenty minutes of sleep. The girl sighed and lay down again, looking up at the ceiling briefly before closing her eyes in hopes of resting a little more.

She didn't, not even in the days ahead. Kaz pointed out how he could feel her moving way more than usual as his a light sleeper, not blaming her whatsoever but more concerned as to what was keeping her up. Y/N didn't know either, so she figured solving it with Jesper's coffee and quick (very ineffective) naps on the couches and tables at the slat so she could at least be aware of the task at hand; the job.

The day came, and she felt very optimistic about it all. Truth is, Y/N loved dressing up with pretty dresses and daggers hidden around her thighs. She found some kind of satisfaction in keeping this knowledge to herself, the men and women throwing looks at her, completely unaware of how dangerous she happened to be. People on the streets knew her as the wild child... ruthlessly gorgeous, is what Kaz called her.

The girl had a habit of getting carried away in a fight. Too much anger and resentment for the past had to find an exit. It did when she killed, leaving a scared Jesper to deal with an even more scared Wylan who wouldn't dare look her in the eye for weeks after she kept on punching a man's face she saw was trying to kidnap a little girl right after a job years ago. Kaz helped and understood.

His revenge was calculating and took years in which she was by her side, but Y/N just couldn't help herself when it came down to the people who did unspeakable things to her. With the years, she got a hold of herself even though her nickname on the barrel stuck, adding "the crow queen" when word got around she was Brekker's girl. Now, she was still ruthless but way more cold-headed and grounded, Kaz's doing.

She wore a pink dress with embroidered roses around the floaty sleeves. Inej had a blue set of dress pants and shirt, long-sleeved as well as Nina sported a hot red strapless dress with a lot of cleavage. "We're a smoke show! Those fuckers will barely be able to keep their eyes off of us." The last one squealed, adjusting her hair "That's the point" Inej giggled, agreeing clearly as she looked at herself in the mirror.

Y/N laughed at the thought and her head pained a little; Girls on those big houses did the very same thing they were doing now, with very different intentions. Those ladies wanted to find a rich husband, and they'd be set. Her friends were dressed to kill, and so was she. A little fucked up version of a cliché she, too, wished to live when she was little. "I hope these sleeves aren't an issue" she wondered, picturing them getting stuck on their knife or maybe being too tight to throw a punch.

"It's a simple job, love. There's nothing to be worried about! Also, I can bet on my life Kaz is going to be drooling over you when he sees." Nina smiled, playfully smacking her shoulder. "Even more so if you fight in that, he's going to go insane" spoke the Suli girl with a giggle "Kinky" the heartrender added, making the girlfriends break in a fit of laughter. Nina was right, Y/N knew, but decided against confirming her friend's assumptions.

Her eyes felt droopy from the obvious lack of sleep but nothing a cup of coffee couldn't fix, right? She walked down the stairs and into the makeshift kitchen they owned, heating up some. The smell filled her body with pleasant chills, and suddenly some more energy invaded her. "Wacha got there?" asked Wylan, who was quietly sitting behind her. How long had he been there? How did she not notice?

"Coffee, want some?" "Right before a job?" "Yes, I haven't been sleeping too well the last couple of days". Certain zemeni voice erupted from outside the room, exclaiming a brief "Neither have us!" that had the merchling blushing like he got some contagious disease. Y/N delivered a pat on his back, and coffee in hand she exited the room.

Kaz gathered everyone in the living room, to revise the plan once more. "...so make sure you cover that corn-" He stopped mid-sentence when Y/N came into view. Her hair looked polished, but she could be bald for all he cared. The dress complimented her figure beautifully, adjusting in the right places, which to Kaz was any place, really. Inej and Nina giggled and high fived. "Go on, love." She smiled, ready to listen attentively at his plan even though he made sure to walk her through it personally a few hours ago.

As Y/N brushed next to him, he grabbed her hand to make her stop right before she got seated. "You're stunning. Is it comfortable?" he whispered, looking at her with a certain glow in his eyes he once thought lost. "Yes, dear. Thank you" she pecked her boy's cheek and took a seat behind him. He went on with the plan, and everyone seemed pretty much ready to leave.

So they did.

˚ · • . ° .

"Darling, watch out!" Jesper exclaimed, shooting at a man behind Y/N. Things went south, they did. In the hiding spot Wylan and the girl had settled; some dreg must've ratted, they guessed. An ambush from some new-forming band trying to get known by stealing from The Crows themselves, pathetic. Inej had gotten there to help, but Y/N and Jesper insisted she went back and warned the others so to spare them from possible damage.

The wild child and Jesper were a great team, who knew a durast and an avid fighter could take down men three times their size and weight? They proved on many occasions to be useful for situations as these, so there was no problem. They'd be out of there in the blink of an eye. Around ten people had arrived at the scene, and four remained, Y/N realized as she took a kick in the gut and fell on her back, jumping back on her feet with a flip.

Jes' revolvers did the job for two others as she managed with the guy in front of her. "Come on, big guy, that can't be the best you got, aye?" she smiled wickedly, taunting the man with a daring hand despite the very much broken rib she could feel. The dress was ruined with blood she was sure wasn't hers, shreds ripped it off so largely one of her legs was now exposed.

He lunged forward, coming with a dirty blade to her throat, and she skipped it. Came again, now, aiming for her arm and she skipped it again, landing a kick on the throat that left him coughing on the ground. Y/N crouched to his level and grabbed him by the hair, sliding a knife in the same spot, careful not to cut. She noticed a tattoo on his neck, a beaver. Couldn't help but laugh. "You tell your boss not to mess around with us, or next time he won't get too lucky as to get less than half of his men in one piece. And change the tattoo, a bloody beaver? Seriously?"

The man nodded furiously, tripping on his way out of the warehouse. "A beaver? Their thing is beavers?" Jesper laughed, putting his babies back in place and making sure the painting they had stolen was still with him. "I know, couldn't pick a funnier thing" she answered, giggling. Looking around, something was odd. Yes, Y/N was not very well educated and lacked the month of college her best friend had, but she thought she counted four men remaining in this spot of the building.

The other six lay limp near the door, and there were two next to them, plus the one who ran with the message. One was missing. "Hey Jes I think we're missing one" "What do you mean? There's no one here". She stopped listening and her world went quiet when he met his yes. A lanky, tall figure could be seen next to a stack of boxes on her right, a flicking light revealing him for brief intervals of time. Ugly motherfucker carrying a gun that pointed straight at her.

The blood started gushing out of her leg before she could even react. "Too slow" she faintly heard. He wasn't stopping either; shooting at various places until one loud boom next to her made it cease. Was concrete always this cold? Oh, she was now feeling Jesper's soft suit. Warmer. "Is that wool?" Y/N asked and realized her voice sounded a little quieter than she meant. "Yes, it is doll. Open your eyes for me, okay? You can't die on me now"

She really tried. She really wanted to look at her best friends face and maybe hear him crack a joke or two. But her eyes felt droopy and her head felt heavy so she finally fell asleep.

˚ · • . ° .

Kaz arrived minutes later, Wylan, Nina and Inej by his side as they all rushed to a crying Jesper, desperately trying to wake Y/N up. "S-she got shot, didn't flinch.. like she didn't even see the bastard," he hiccuped, letting his boss take his place next to a limp body as his boyfriend helped him up and hugged him tightly.

Brekker's head spun. A thousand possibilities. There was blood all over the dress, and leaking over his clothes but he couldn't give a fuck. Not her. He couldn't bare it. Y/N was a piece of heaven in that saint forsaken island, the only saint he ever believed in and the angel that saved him from himself. If he lost her, there was no coming back for him. The water rose to his nose again for a brief moment.

It hadn't happened in a while. And he chose the techniques his lover taught him. He acted. "Nina" he mumbled, taking Y/N on his arms as the grisha girl assured him she had a pulse. His legs carried him to the slat, never too far from Nina, as she was making sure her pulse didn't slow down too much. He didn't even notice the pain in his bad leg. He felt a sting on his heart, so sharp it seemed as if pieces of broken glass would poke through it at any moment.

The boy sent Inej looking for whatever idiot decided it was a good idea to try and steal from them. Only information. He'd take care of them later. The Wraith left and was out all night, returning with a lot to say the next morning. Kaz looked over at Y/N's face and the utter peace that brushed over her features scared him even more. Not now. Not like this.

"Is she going to be okay? T-there was definitely something wrong with her back there" Jesper started once the girl was on the bed and getting healed with a few healers in the dregs and Nina. Kaz was sitting, head propped up in his hands as he stared at the wall opposite from him. "She didn't move! At all! He shot her three times and looked amused while doing it". The zemeni man had to stop if he wasn't trying to reunite with the other deceased blessed people on his bloodline. Kaz's stare hardened and his jaw clenched tightly.

"Wylan, I can't lose her. She was too slow a-" "ENOUGH" Kaz stood up, looking at him with murder in his eyes. "If you were more aware of the surroundings, she would be fine. Don't you dare call her slow. This is not her fault. You should've been there" menacing gloved finger pointing to his friend. "Oh, so this is my problem now?" Jesper countered in complete disbelief. "If you don't consider your best friend's life being at critical risk a problem you're much more of a superficial, incompetent and heartless bastard than I thought." Kaz spat.

He knew this wasn't Jesper's fault, maybe it was the lack of sleep or you just weren't on your element. But he had to let it out with someone. Anyone. Pain turns into anger and screaming at your brother when it's too strong. He knew that better than anyone and couldn't care to stop himself this time. "Kaz, stop" Wylan said, and then he noticed Jesper's puffy eyes with a sigh. Then he felt his own neck starting to tickle. He was crying. Kaz Brekker didn't cry.

"Out" "But Ka-" "I SAID OUT"

And out they were. Everyone who didn't need to be there to save his girl's life. He could hear Nina struggling between wrecked sobs, fast pacing around the room and a distant sound of water running non-stop. Hours passed, and he remained in the same position, in the same chair, with the same thoughts running wild inside him.

Not you. Please. I should've been there. I'm going to kill them. Please be okay. I can't do it without her. Please.

Kaz Brekker was repeating pleas, thinking out loud to whoever was listening. Let her live. Please let her live. This is not her fault. Not to a god, neither to those saints who proved to exist so many years ago. He didn't know who he was asking for help to. But he was screaming, please don't let her go. He was leaving with her if she did.

All sound stopped, and Nina emerged from the dimly lit room, drying her cheeks. The boy stood up, looking at her with the most terrified look he ever gave someone. Fuck the facade. He was utterly afraid. "She's okay, not waking up, but she will". He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and couldn't help but throw himself into Nina's arms in search for some comfort to his wrecked sobs.

His friend received him with open arms, careful not to squeeze him too hard, as she knew that could trigger him. "I can't lose her, Nina" he whimpered before pulling away. "You're not. Not now and not soon. She's okay, Kaz. Stay with her, will you? She could be a little startled if she wakes up in an empty room"

He almost scoffed at that. What else would he do? A quiet nod was delivered, and he stepped inside to accompany her in an uncharacteristically unsettling silence. There were dirty gauzes everywhere, her dirty dress discarded in a corner and a blanket covering her figure. Kaz stopped, looking at your chest. It rose and fell in a moderate rhythm. Good.

Taking a seat once again, he held her hand and brushed a thumb over it, grateful to whoever listened. And Nina.

Sun bled through the curtains, filling it all with a pleasant orange hue Kaz knew Y/N would appreciate. Jesper came by every few hours and amends were made. He understood how badly everything hit Kaz the day before and didn't need an apology. They were all under intense pressure the day before, couldn't blame him for a such a reaction. Wylan had brought flowers and Inej made sure everything was ready for when she regained consciousness.

His crows got it handled.

A whole day and a half had gone by and he was reading beside her when she woke up. Her hand moved and he could feel the twitch in his palm, looking up frantically to find those pretty y/e/c eyes looking back at him. "Finally, got some sleep," she joked and laughed at her own joke. Kaz laughed back. "Hello" he offered, kissing her hand and never really wanting to let go "Hi". "Are you feeling okay?" the boy asked, happy to see his lover once again awake.

"It hurts a bit but I'll live" "I'm counting on that, my love". ♡

#kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker #six of crows #six of crows x reader #grishaverse x reader #shadwo and bone netflix #crooked kingdom #freddy carter #shadow and bone season two #sab s2

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shokosmokes · 11 days ago

Text

incubus

sukuna x reader

in which reader decides to play with a ouija board and accidentally summons an incubus sukuna (oopsies)

ヾ(๑╹◡╹)ﾉ" -ive never written for sukuna before but this idea scratched an itch in my brain lol

—————————————————

TAGS: semi monster fucking ig?, kinktober, a little spooky, not proof read, honestly no idea how to tag this lol, smut, mdni (duh)

The house is quiet now. The last of the trick-or-treaters have come and gone, and you’re left alone with the faint smell of candy in the air and the dim flicker of Halloween decorations still glowing outside. You sink into the couch, staring out the window at the dark, empty street. A restless feeling tugs at you. There’s something about Halloween night that always makes you feel like you should be doing something… spooky.

Your eyes wander to the closet. You’ve been holding onto it for a while now—a Ouija board, something you found years ago at a thrift shop, tucked away in the back corner, half forgotten. You’ve always been curious about it. A little thrill dances up your spine as you think about it. Why not? It’s Halloween night, after all.

The floor creaks under your feet as you cross the room. You retrieve the board from its dusty resting place, hesitating for just a moment. The planchette rattles as you set it down on the table, the dim light from the jack-o-lanterns casting eerie shadows across the room. You sit cross-legged on the floor, fingers gently resting on the planchette, feeling the cold, smooth surface beneath your fingertips.

The silence in the room thickens. You take a deep breath, the tension in the air palpable, and whisper the words you’ve only seen in movies.

“Is anyone here?”

For a moment, there’s nothing but stillness. The candles flicker slightly, but maybe it’s just your imagination. Then—just the faintest shift—the planchette begins to move, ever so slowly.

Your breath catches. It’s not you. At least… you don’t think it’s you. Your fingers tremble slightly as the planchette glides to a letter.

It hovers over Y.

A chill washes over you as your heart beats faster. You swallow hard, eyes fixed on the board.

“What do you want?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

The planchette moves again, slow and deliberate, spelling out something you never expected…

The planchette drifts slowly, deliberately, until it stops over the letter Y. You freeze, eyes wide, your pulse thudding in your ears. Your fingers, still trembling, stay glued to the board. You barely breathe as the planchette moves again, sliding to O, and then, with an agonizing pause, it settles on U.

You.

A cold sweat forms on your brow as the weight of the word sinks in. Your heart pounds harder, the air in the room suddenly feeling thick and oppressive. The candles flicker wildly now, casting frantic, dancing shadows across the walls, and for a moment, you swear one of them moves in a way it shouldn’t.

You pull your hands away from the board, almost too afraid to let go, but you have to. Your breathing comes in shallow, rapid bursts as you stare at the word, the letters glaring up at you like a warning. Your brain scrambles for logic, for an explanation, but the eerie stillness of the room has shifted. There’s a presence here now—something watching, something waiting.

You. It feels like a threat. Like a demand.

Suddenly, the soft creaking of a floorboard behind you breaks the silence. Your heart lurches in your chest as you whip your head around, eyes wide, searching the shadows.

There’s nothing there.

But you can’t shake the feeling that something… or someone… is in the room with you. Watching.

Your eyes dart nervously around the room, heart pounding in your chest. The silence has weight now, pressing down on you, and you swear you can feel eyes watching you from the shadows. You glance at the Ouija board, wondering if you should have never touched it. Maybe it was just a prank of the mind, you try to reassure yourself. Maybe…

But before you can finish the thought, the temperature drops. The air around you turns icy cold, and the candles flicker violently, threatening to go out. Your breath hitches, a mist forming as you exhale. You freeze as a soft, mocking chuckle echoes through the room, sending a chill straight down your spine. The voice is deep, dark, and eerily familiar, like a whisper in the back of your mind that you’ve always ignored.

“I see you’ve been calling for me,” the voice teases, low and dangerous.

You turn slowly, dread curling in your stomach, and you see him. His presence is undeniable, taking up the entire space with an overwhelming, predatory energy. His figure materializes out of the shadows, towering over you with ease, broad shoulders relaxed like he’s amused by your fear. His hair is wild, his skin pale, and those unmistakable red markings that trace his body gleam faintly in the dim light. His eyes—piercing and wickedly sharp—lock onto yours, a twisted grin stretching across his face.

The sharp edges of his grin soften slightly, but it only makes him look more sinister. His gaze trails over you, lingering in a way that makes your heart race for reasons you’re not sure you want to understand.

“You didn’t think you could play with something like that,” he nods toward the Ouija board, “without consequences, did you?”

You swallow hard, backing up instinctively as he steps closer, his presence magnetic, inescapable. He’s no ordinary spirit. There’s a sensuality in the way he moves, in the way his voice curls around you like a forbidden promise. It’s as if he can sense every thought you’re trying to hide, every shiver that courses through you.

“Humans,” Sukuna drawls, his voice laced with amusement, “so desperate to dabble in things they don’t understand. But you…” His grin widens, showing the barest hint of fangs. “You caught my attention.”

Your breath hitches as he closes the distance between you, his tall frame towering over yours. His eyes, dark and dangerous, seem to glow in the flickering candlelight, and for a moment, you’re frozen in place. His hand comes up to gently tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His touch is cool, but there’s a heat to it, too—a tingling, electric sensation that shoots through your body.

“You called,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing your skin, “and now I’m here. What should I do with you, I wonder?”

Your pulse quickens as you try to find your voice, your mind racing, but the words are stuck in your throat. There’s something intoxicating about him, as if he’s drawing you in, coaxing you to let go of the fear and give in to something darker. Something dangerous.

Sukuna’s gaze flickers over your face, and his grin turns feral, the sharpness in his eyes growing more intense. “I can feel it, you know.” His voice drops lower, seductive, almost a purr. “That little thrill of fear. The excitement beneath it.” He leans in closer, his lips near your ear. “Tell me… are you afraid of me?”

Your heart pounds louder, and you can’t tell if the answer is yes… or no.

Your heart races, but it’s not just fear that pulses through your veins—it’s something deeper, something you can’t quite understand. The air between you and Sukuna feels charged, magnetic, pulling you closer despite every instinct screaming that you should run. But your feet stay rooted to the floor, and your body, traitorous as it is, leans into the energy radiating from him.

It’s as if your mind has slipped out of your control, like invisible strings pulling your thoughts toward him. You try to make sense of it, to shake off the strange compulsion, but it clings to you, wraps around your chest, squeezing tighter with each passing second. His voice, that low, dangerous purr, echoes in your mind, clouding your thoughts.

“You’re confused,” he says, his lips curving into a knowing smile as his eyes gleam with dark amusement. “I can see it. Feel it.”

You want to pull away from his touch, but at the same time, something in you craves the warmth of his hand still resting under your chin, the coolness of his fingers brushing against your skin. Your mind screams at you to resist, to think clearly, but it’s like being caught in a riptide, dragged deeper into his influence with every glance, every word he speaks.

“What… what are you doing to me?” you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible, almost a plea.

Sukuna chuckles softly, a low sound that vibrates through the room and straight into your chest. He tilts his head, his expression one of amusement and curiosity, as if watching a mouse realize it’s been caught in a trap. “Doing to you?” He smirks, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw lightly, sending another shiver down your spine. “This is all you, darling.”

You blink, trying to make sense of his words, but the way he says it makes your thoughts swirl even more. This is me? Your knees feel weak, and there’s a strange heat pooling in your chest, spreading slowly through your limbs like you’re melting under his gaze. But it doesn’t feel like something you can control. It’s as if he’s inside your head, pulling strings you didn’t know existed, coaxing feelings out of you that you can’t suppress.

“I don’t understand,” you breathe, shaking your head slightly, though even that movement feels sluggish, like you’re moving through water.

Sukuna’s grin widens, a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “Oh, you don’t need to understand,” he whispers, his voice dark and soothing, like a lullaby you can’t help but fall into. “You just need to give in. It’s simpler that way, isn’t it?”

There’s a tug in your chest at his words, an uncontrollable urge to surrender, to let go of the confusion, the fear, and let him guide you wherever he wants. You hate that you want it, but you do—something in you aches for it, for him. Your body betrays you, leaning closer, as if seeking his touch without your permission.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear, sending a shudder down your spine. “That pull? It’s what happens when you summon a demon, little one. Your soul already knows its place. You belong to me.”

Your mind reels, but it’s harder and harder to fight the fog that’s wrapped itself around your thoughts. It’s like he’s taking over, seeping into the cracks of your mind, his presence filling every corner, leaving you with nothing but the overwhelming need to be closer to him.

“Why… why can’t I resist?” you whisper, your voice shaking, as your body moves of its own accord, leaning into him.

Sukuna’s grin is all sharp edges, dangerous and wicked, and his hand slides from your chin down to your throat, his fingers curling lightly around your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, but the gesture makes you feel even more helpless, completely at his mercy. “Because,” he says softly, “you don’t want to resist.”

His words sink into you like a slow poison, and the worst part is, some part of you knows he’s right.

ukuna’s hand lingers at your throat, his fingers light but commanding, as if he’s testing how much you’ll allow, how much you’ll bend to his will. His eyes—sharp, predatory—glint with amusement as he watches you struggle with your emotions, torn between resisting him and the unexplainable pull that keeps dragging you closer. He leans in, so close now that you can feel the heat of his breath on your lips, the electricity of his presence crackling in the air.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, a wild mix of fear and something darker, something you can’t name. You feel it before it happens, the moment his lips brush yours—a sudden jolt, like a spark that sets your nerves alight. The kiss is soft at first, deceptively gentle, but beneath it lies a hunger, a dark intensity that pulls you in deeper.

For a heartbeat, you’re lost in the sensation, drowning in it. But then—something changes.

The moment his lips press fully against yours, a wave of weakness crashes through your body. It’s subtle at first, a lightness in your head, a tremble in your limbs. But then it intensifies. Your knees buckle as a cold, draining sensation floods through you, and you feel the warmth—the very life—being pulled from your body. It’s like he’s siphoning your energy, drawing it out of you with every second their lips are connected.

You try to pull back, but your body feels heavy, sluggish, as if all your strength is leaking away into him. His grip tightens slightly around your throat, holding you in place as your breath falters, the weakness spreading like ice through your veins. Panic surges in your chest, but even that feels muted, distant, as if you’re slowly slipping away from yourself.

Sukuna’s lips curve into a smirk against yours, and when he finally pulls back, you collapse against him, gasping for breath. His hand slides down to your waist, holding you upright with ease, his gaze burning into yours with a dark, satisfied glint. “Ah,” he murmurs, his voice silky, teasing, “feeling weak, are we?”

Your legs tremble beneath you, barely able to hold your own weight as the dizziness washes over you, leaving you lightheaded and weak. It’s like he’s drained something vital from you, something you didn’t even realize you had to lose.

“What… did you do?” you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible, breathless. Your body feels like it’s fading, a shadow of its former self.

Sukuna chuckles, a deep, rich sound that vibrates through the room. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch almost tender, though his eyes gleam with wicked satisfaction. “You gave me a taste,” he says, his thumb grazing your bottom lip, his voice laced with amusement. “A small part of you… belongs to me now.”

You shudder at his words, feeling the weight of them sink in. Whatever he’s taken from you, it wasn’t just physical. It’s deeper, more profound, as if he’s carved out a piece of your very essence and claimed it for himself. The realization sends a wave of fear through you, but at the same time, you can’t shake the lingering, horrible thrill of being bound to something so dark, so powerful.

“You’ll be fine,” Sukuna says, his tone almost mocking as he watches you struggle to catch your breath. “For now.”

Your knees nearly give out again, but he catches you effortlessly, pulling you close to him. His lips brush your ear as he whispers, “You can handle more can’t you?” His breath sends a shiver down your spine.

All common sense flying from your grasp as your body, your mind are feeding into him. Like you’re absolutely mesmerized by the proximity of him, craving, itching for more.

His eyes take in your dazed look, reveling in your limp form. The sight of his sharp eyes drinking you in forces a breathy involuntary moan past your lips.

“More…”

With that his eyes darken, his long fingers wrapping around the form of your jaw possessively, gripping you against him. His eyes flash a fire of lust, racking your dazed expression. The heat of him alone causes you to whimper.

A low deep rich chuckle vibrates from his chest. “So pliant, practically putty in my hands and I haven’t even had my way with you yet.” His hot breath fans across your sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His nose trailing up your neck, almost savoring your scent before you feel the sink of his teeth nipping at the responsive flesh.

Your mind spirals with bewildering desire at the feel of his tongue trailing over the bruised complexion of your neck. His hands find their way beneath the fabric of your top, digging, dragging his sharp nails across the skin of your back causing you to yelp in a mix of pain and pleasure.

His eyes glint with amusement as he watches you squirm. His calloused hands trail down the mounds of your hips, swiftly lifting you, holding you against his form.

His voice a low growl, he murmurs against the shell of your ear. "You wanted a taste, didn't you? Well, here it is..." His arms tighten around you possessively, as he continues to mark you with his touch. "You're so warm... so alive..."

His fingers trail up the soft flesh of your exposed thigh, dipping under your skirt his long nails hook under the fabric of your panties. With a sharp pull the fabric snaps, ripping them.

He lets out a feral chuckle at the feel of your arousal dripping down your thighs, his breath hot against your skin as he looks at the torn fabric. "Such a delicate little thing, aren't you?"

He inhales deeply, smelling your arousal. "You're so ready for me..." He growls possessively, his voice laced with dominance. "Wrap your legs around my waist..." He commands, his voice broking no room for argument. "And hold on tight..."

Your body as if not under your own will instinctively snakes yourself around his form. His grip on you almost painful as in one swift motion one of his hands trail down to pull at the hem of his pants, his length springing free, slapping hard against his toned torso.

He grips your ass with both hands, spreading you open as he lines himself up with your entrance. "Look at me..." He demands, his golden eyes filled with a primal intensity. "I want you to relish in the sight of who's claiming you..."

You look to him with wide eyes sparked with fear but he doesn’t miss the gloss of lust clouding them. He drinks in the sight of your expression, the way your face twists in pain when he plunges into you with a feral pace without warning.

He grunts with each powerful thrust, his hips slamming against yours. "That's it, take it all..." He growls, his claws digging into your soft flesh as he holds you in place. "Your tight little hole feels so good stretched around my cock..."

The stretch of it, the apathetic quilt of his thick length bruising your cervix sends a screech pervading your throat. The sound of it a dulcet melody to his ears.

As painful as it is, as petrifying of the circumstance, as blood curdling screams pass your lips your body seems to further betray you as arousal drips down his thighs.

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming shallower and faster, bouncing you on his length. "Oh, you like this, don't you?" He grins, his fangs glinting in the dim light.

He leans down and sinks his teeth into your shoulder, muffling his primal growls as he continues to bounce you on his lap. The pain only heightens your pleasure, your fingers clawing at his back as your body convulses with each wave of sensation. “Give it to me, give into me…”

“So close…”

He snarls against your skin, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his own peak. "Beg for it then..." He demands, his voice strained with barely contained lust. "Beg me to fill you up with my seed..."

A string of light, airy pleads escape you.

“God… please…”

It’s too much, too fast, and yet, you crave it, letting it consume you, surrendering to the dizzying rush. The edges of your body blur, boundaries dissolving as you feel yourself drifting, weightless, pulled into a space where sensation is everything and nothing all at once.

You feel his thickness twitch, spurting your walls with thick warm load. Each breath is shallow, hitched, and trembling as the warmth digs deeper, until even the air feels thick, charged, laced with this pleasure that saturates every corner of your being. He’s pumping into you deep, like he doesn’t want a single drop to spill.

With his nails digging into the flesh of your hips it only takes a few more languish bounces on his cock for you to gush your essence all onto his toned torso. He eyes you with a shit eating grin. The way your face contorts in pleasure, the sounds of your overstimulated cries, the way your juices shine on his skin, draws a deep velvety chuckle that vibrates through his chest.

Curse marks, ones that match his, bloom from the skin encasing your womb. Your eyes widen with a gasp escaping you, when your high finally dissolves and reality hits you. But it’s all too late as your body drains. It’s as if your life source is being siphoned out of you.

The sensation begins as a slow, velvet tug, like he’s pulling on the very essence of you. It’s dizzying, and a strange tingling warmth spreads through you, sinking low, anchoring you in place. You feel a languid heaviness, limbs sinking, body growing weak. A strange, hollow ache starts in your chest, a deep, insatiable yearning that grows. His touch harsh, possessive, like he’s claiming something more than just your body.

Your breaths grow shallow, each exhale coming out softer, weaker, as though he’s taking pieces of you with every breath. Your heart flutters, then slows, each beat feeling more distant, as though it’s echoing from far away. A shiver rolls down your spine, leaving you both cold and somehow intensely warm at the same time.

The warmth leaves slowly, like a candle fading out, and a chill begins to creep in. Your body feels light, empty, almost weightless, as if parts of you are drifting away. He watches you with a faint smile, a knowing, dark glint in his eyes that promises he won’t take everything. But you can feel the darkness now, slipping in where your strength used to be, filling the space he leaves hollow. And as you slip, deeper and deeper, you can’t help but wonder what he’ll leave behind when he finally lets you go.

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(*^▽^*) -oh and happy halloween btw

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