#tumblr if this does not hit the tags i swear to hell

[tarisilmarwen]

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 29: Crossed Wires

Screenshot Credit: @boardchairman-blog

Bearblr Promptober Day 29: Corruption (sorta? I tried)

Summary: Carmy's girlfriend (who he calls Darling) introduces him to impact play (flogger), and it wrecks his wiring. Mild smut.

Warnings: Swearing, mentioned fight with Syd, Richie and Nat, casual suicidal thought (1), impact play (flogger), fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns. (1006 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for weeks.

29 Oct 2024

Darling crossed a lot of my wires, but her magnum opus had to be soldering the ones for pain and pleasure together.

The anticipation of getting hit sat as this half-molten brick of brimstone in the pit of my stomach. It churned with the heat of magma, bubbling up as licks of flames that, in the fleeting but eternal minutes I waited kneeling next to the bed with my forehead resting on my folded arms, I could almost feel at the roof of my mouth. I’d spit flames, I was sure of it, if the eon stretched any longer, and they’d fucking annihilate whatever small fragments of me remained coincidentally affixed together after the thrashing I received that day. If I wasn’t non-linear, if I wasn’t being scraped off the fucking pavement and put into a jar when Richie, Syd, Sugar, and I all exploded at each other, it was because of negligence. Because one or some of their barbs was aimed lazily enough to miss the fucking target—not because I had any connective tissue holding me together. I don’t often want to die, but at The Bear partly through prep that day, an otherwise nondescript Monday? I prayed Richie would grab a knife from the block and tear it across my throat.

“What’s your safeword, sweetheart?” Darling whispered from behind me.

The sound of leather groaning as she, in all likelihood, twisted the flogger around her hand, pierced the silence further.

“Mercy.” It barely made it past my throat.

Cool strands of leather brushed across my bare back, between my shoulder blades, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Goosebumps exploded along my arms.

“Shhhhh…” She wove her fingers into and gripped a fistful of my hair. “Relax. Remember, we don’t have to do th—”

“Please, just fucking hit me already,” I whimpered.

“I will once you relax, pretty boy.”

“Fuck you.” It left my mouth before I could stop it. My face erupted in heat. I drew in a breath to apologize, but she cut me off.

“I know. I get it. It’s okay.”

 My mouth wouldn’t move. Wouldn’t produce the apology. A whooshing sound, then a crack, then a sting between my shoulder blades. Exactly like a jump rope to the ankle. Exactly like she’s said it would’ve felt.

“Fuck!” I hissed. I gripped fistfuls of the sheets and recoiled against the pain.

It surprised me more than it hurt, at first. Not the pain, but the little surge of heat in my navel, dangerously close to arousal. Then, the sting faded into warmth and tightness, like something was tugging at my skin. And then the pain came back. Duller. Deeper. Irritating, almost. I wanted her to rake her nails over it.

Oh, I was fucked.

“D-do it again,” I said. “Please.”

Fucked straight to hell.

“That wasn’t too hard, was it, sweet—”

“N-no. No. P-please do it again.”

The second one had that initial spark of pain, but then the sensation went away. Melted into the same dull, distant tightness that was already present. But holy fuck, it felt heavenly. My dick stirred, halfway to half-hard, and all I could think of was—

“Again? Please?”

She didn’t hesitate this time, and I couldn’t stop a groan from tearing from my chest.

“Oh.” She curled her hand around my throat and lifted my head to greet me with a wicked grin. “Oh, does that feel good, pretty boy?”

She wasn���t squeezing, but it was just enough pressure for blood to pool in my head, and I got that fuzzy, floaty feeling. My dick strained in my sweatpants, and all I could do was press up against the side of the bed, try to chase down some friction. My eyes fluttered closed without my consent. Please, squeeze harder. Please, please, fucking crush me in your hands, call me pretty boy again, leave bruises, leave shadows like a fucking dog collar that I can take with me tomorrow. Maybe I’ll act less like a wild fucking animal. Maybe it’ll feel like you’re there and I won’t fucking lose it.

“I asked you a question, pretty boy.” Gentle.

I pried my eyes open. Whispered, “Y-yes.”

Something about seeing her like that, effortlessly in control, a Goddess hovering over me, powerful, commanding, the handler of a rabid animal—listen, I will take Darling however she comes to me. I love her so much, I’ll give her my ribs. I love her so much, it feels like it’s killing me, but I will lie in that grave if it means I can listen to her voice, be enveloped by the scent of her skin, taste her strawberry lip balm, but something about her being in control destroys me. I’m helplessly caught in the riptide of her existence, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. I will give you anything, my love. I am yours. My whole being is at the foot of your throne. I trust you to nurture and protect me more than I do my own blood.

Do with me what you please, my love.

It wasn’t for five heartbeats, wasn’t until I saw her eyes darken, that I realized I whispered it aloud.

The next one stung less than the first two. The one after unlocked some feral part of me that I didn’t know existed, and I bit the side of my hand to keep myself from screaming. Not out of pain, it was something else. Something reflexive, primal, felt like it was damn near under my diaphragm. I was too hot. I didn’t have any layers to remove, and the radiator was still out, so it should’ve been cold in the room, but I was burning up. The sinking, molten arousal in the pit of my stomach undulated and coiled with every strike until one of them, a random one—nothing special about it—set off stars in my vision and ripped a pathetic cry from my throat.

End note: this piece is truncated. The writing fatigue has thoroughly set in. I might write the rest of the scene at a later date.

That was the moment. That’s when the wires crossed.

Part II

[valyrfia]

I've been on ff community since I was 12 years old (yeah I know, too soon, canonic event) and I'm now 25 so I know a thing or two about fanfics both fictional and RPF culture now. And I can confidently say, that 75% of people that act horrified and scandalized over these stats or make comments like "omg who's writing fanfics about-" are the first ones to have open tabs on their cellphones of the filthiest ff known to men that I wouldn't even read. And this I swear happens more than people realize. I lost count the amount of people that would judge me over reading fanfiction and then I would find them on fanfics spaces like hello there :)..

Oh you're absolutely correct. The people who are the most scandalised are always the ones partaking. It's just frustrating as hell for us on here or on ao3 who are doing our own thing in our own designated spaces only for someone on twitter to decide they want to get a few quick hits out of preaching how RPF is so wrong and tweeting out...screenshots of archive-locked RPF. I'm talking specifically about that Carlos/JV fic which was REMOVED FROM THE ARCHIVE because twitter decided they wanted to laugh at it and call the author weird, but I've seen loads of things about people calling romantic Lestappen weird only for their next tweet to be an almost word for word copy of a post that was doing numbers in the tumblr tag. I will say the age demographic on twitter tends to skew a lot younger (late teens) compared to tumblr (majority in our mid to late 20s) so you could argue it's just immaturity, but it's also frustrating as hell having our peace disturbed because someone is a. not entirely comfortable with the fact they enjoy RPF and wants to make themselves feel better by taking the moral high ground and b. has figured out that RPF discussions on twitter get hits and likes and interactions despite the fact that RPF does NOT belong on twitter in any way shape or form.

[tasmanianstripes]

I'm gonna make an original post because I am not a discourse blog nor am I looking for a fight or, God forbid, for somebody to harass the OP or me over this. I am just a disabled person who's really fucking tired with how people treat accessibility features and I need to vent out my frustration

(As a disclaimer, idk if the OP of that post is disabled or mentally ill or anything, nor do I care. It genuienly doesn't matter. Being disabled or mentally ill or having any kind of disorder doesn't prevent you from being ableist. You can't hide behind "I'm disabled/have PTSD/whatever".)

But I saw some garbage take about trigger warnings today, that basically boiled down to that fanfic writers and artists don't need to use trigger warnings, that it's a fairly new thing and the standard for fiction was not using them for many years, and anything more than what the site requires is just a courtesy, but what ticked me off was these two ending points

(Image ID: A tumblr text post that reads "➡️ It is your responsibility to protect yourself and close a book, or hit the back button if you find something in fiction that you're reading that upsets you. ➡️ You are responsible for protecting yourself from fiction that causes you discomfort." End ID.)

Which I absolutely agree with, which is why it's so frustrating.

Because how can somebody protect themself if the author chooses not to disclose potentially triggering and dangerous content they're posting?

Is it a standard? Yeah. Does it mean it's a good standard and shouldn't be changed? Hell no.

Yeah it is within your right to refuse to trigger tag something, but it doesn't mean it's the moral choice nor that it doesn't make you an asshole. Like not giving up your seat on a transit for a person in need is within your rights and you nobody can stop you from not doing that, but you are being a prick.

I'm all for people controlling their own online experience, they shouldn't demand somebody not post something and instead learn to block and filter their own experience, but they can't feasibly do that if somebody chooses not to use warnings. Just because something is the standard or law or a policy doesn't mean it's a moral choice. AO3's "Creator chose not to use archive warnings" is a good compromise, it can keep the creator from spoilering their story while warning the readers that they're clicking on their own risk. But to post something with absolutely ZERO warning? Yeah, full offence, you're just a cunt.

Call me crazy but it's not "courtesy" when it's about accessibility and people's health and safety, it's the bare minimum you should do to avoid dangerous situations. It's not just about comfort for many people, posting something triggering without any warnings can be genuienly dangerous. If you genuienly think everyone can just click away from a fanfic like that and be only uncomfortable at most then you're naive and sheltered, a lot of people need these warnings, fandom spaces are hostile to disabled people as is. If you want people to protect themselves from fiction that causes them discomfort or worse then you need to give them the tools to do so, you can't just wash your hands off any responsibility and absolutely refuse to meet anyone half-way.

It seems that when some people say "you need to control your own online experience" don't genuienly mean it, because if they did they would understand it's a two way street. No, they just want an easy guilt-free way out to shooting down people who criticise them for posting uncensored, not warned about triggering content.

I swear to god, when people pull out "Well it's the standard!" when talking about accessibility features for disabled people it makes my blood boil. Well it SHOULDN'T be!

[elshells]

Rating OC Headcanons

So I wasn't tagged in this one but it looked like fun so what the hell!

Rules: use this headcanon generator to generate some headcanons for your OCs! How accurate are they?

Not sure who has and hasn't done this yet, so if you're reading this, consider yourself tagged!! <3

Anyway, you know 'em, you love 'em; I'm gonna do this with all the guys from Agent Ace.

SOPHIA

"Sophia has a maid dress under her bed." 0/10 she absolutely does not

"Sophia enjoys doing her taxes." 6/10 I think she would unironically enjoy doing taxes, it's like a breath of calm compared to her high-intensity job.

"Sophia cringes at her middle school yearbook photos." 4/10 who doesn't?? But I have a feeling that she would actually look back on those reminders of her early years with fondness, not embarrassment.

JANUS

"Janus is a sleepwalker." 5/10 not canon but I can see it.

"Janus does not know how to read." Pffft, giving this a 9/10 because this was almost canon XD. For context, English is Janus' first spoken language but not his first written language, and so for a hot minute I considered making him completely English-illiterate, but decided against it for the sake of plot convenience.

"Janus is unemployed." 10/10 ...I mean, he technically is?

HARLEY

"Harley is Tumblr famous." 8/10 you can't tell me she wouldn't have the coolest blog ever! I would love to be mutuals with her.

"Harley is bisexual." 10/10 YOU KNOW IT, BESTIE

"Harley stole a lollipop at the checkout when she was 5 and she still feels guilty about it." Awww, 10/10! This is totally in character for her, and I'm making this a canon memory immediately. Okay, it's done, and there are no backsies. You're welcome!

JADE

"Jade has punched a hole in her wall." 3/10 I can't picture this happening, but if it did it would have been an accident and not out of anger. Maybe she bumped into her easel and knocked it over?

"Jade gets into Twitter discourse." 10/10 at first glance she looks too sweet to be confrontational, but she is a firm advocate in what she believes in and wouldn't hesitate to fire shots at bigots online.

"Jade believes in ghosts and insists on trying to summon one at every sleepover." 8/10 when she was younger, absolutely!! Even as an adult, she's 100% a paranormal girlie.

MAX

"Max has an intense fear of spiders." 7/10 I wouldn't call it a fear, necessarily, but they do make him uncomfortable. He's less likely to handle one than Harley and/or Jade.

"Max could easily survive the Hunger Games." 5/10 he's definitely an underdog, but he is smart and not to be underestimated. I think he could do it!

"Max has an incredible spice tolerance." 10/10 he's well equipped to handle spice. Him, Harley, and Jade all come from backgrounds with spicy cuisine, so I like to imagine that they would often share food (i.e. compete to see who would take the heat better XD)

AUGUST

"August has fallen asleep at his desk in the middle of the night." 10/10 multiple times, without a shadow of a doubt.

"August got hit by a bus." 8/10 let's be honest, out of everyone on this list it would be him. Poor August can never catch a break :')

"August uses the word 'fuck' like a comma." 2/10 August is a pure boi who tries not to swear beyond the occasional 'damn,' but I think it has the potential to slip out whenever he's under extreme distress or pressure.

AHREN

"Ahren has been canceled on Twitter." 1/10 WHAT DID HE DO?!

"Ahren likes to eat straight coffee beans." 6/10 yeah, he probably would. He and Sophia are both coffee people (although Sophia is more of a tequila aficionado), and it feels entirely plausible to me that he would snack on the beans, too.

"Ahren needs a nightlight to sleep." 7/10 definitely as a little kid, but it's not necessary anymore. He still likes it, tho.

BELLONA

"Bellona is not allowed to drink energy drinks." 10/10 for her health and the safety of others, she's been strongly discouraged XD

"Bellona sleeps in until noon." 9/10 vigilantism practically made her nocturnal.

"Bellona forgets to eat sometimes." 8/10 Bellona has the appetite of snake (once a week, and that's only kind of an exaggeration). Again, the stresses of criminal life are partly to blame for such an unhealthy lifestyle; she's gotten very good at ignoring her own needs over matters she deem more urgent.

[insanelyadd]

I posted 301 times in 2021

152 posts created (50%)

149 posts reblogged (50%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.0 posts.

I added 744 tags in 2021

#undertale - 145 posts

#reblog - 144 posts

#papyrus - 137 posts

#letpapyrussayfuck - 57 posts

#swearing - 56 posts

#sans - 45 posts

#answears - 45 posts

#insanelyadd - 41 posts

#skelechara - 39 posts

#silly - 35 posts

Longest Tag: 113 characters

#i just sit in my head thinking on a loop and breaking stories down into their base nutrients with my brain acids

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Wild as it is to imagine, I do go through my notes a few times a day and I always block any bots I see. Little bonus tip for those that may be knew to tumblr, if your blog looks like this then anyone paying attention to their notes for this reason will block you, so try to customize it, even if you make everything black and title your blog "just lurking".

Full post: 1346 notes • Posted 2021-11-03 19:51:15 GMT

#4

explain the entire papyrus iceberg please i know like 2 things on it

Papyrus' suit is a costume party outfit:

Papyrus' Battle Body is a costume made for a party he attended a few weeks before the game takes place, this is mentioned by Sans at the electric maze I believe.

Papyrus can't kill you:

Zarla made a post where they managed to screen record a fight with Papyrus where they were knocked down to 1HP and before they could heal they were hit with another bone and Papyrus immediately stopped the fight. In the GIF the bone makes contact and the soul flashes like it has been hit but NO HEALTH IS LOST. Papyrus is so against killing the human he can make attacks that do 0 damage.

Papyrus is the younger brother:

The official Japanese Localization of UT, for which Toby gave extensive notes for pretty much every line of dialog, has Papyrus refer to Sans as Nii-Chan. I would throw a screenshot as evidence but I cannot read any Japanese at all so I could accidentally put the wrong screencap, and unless you read it, it wouldn't really be helpful. If you do read it, get UT and change the language to Japanese. Another interesting thing is how Papyrus' speech is written in the traditional fashion which I don't think anyone else does.

Obsession with Spikes and Fire:

Flying:

Full post: 1540 notes • Posted 2021-05-21 06:33:19 GMT

#3

Came up with an idea last night that all Papyrus fans should come together and draw picture(s) of Papyrus saying fuck or swearing and post it on the same day so the people who constantly leave comments about how "Sans is gonna be so mad when he finds out someone corrupted his brother" 🙄 will be killed by the sheer force of it all instantly.

So anyways I declare that June 16th is Let Papyrus Say Fuck Day, all you gotta do is draw Papyrus swearing, or if you want, doing other things that the fandom at large would lose their minds over. Like Papyrus gambling or committing arson. It doesn't have to be high art, it can be a shitposty little doodle. Post it on the 16th and tag it with #LetPapyrusSayFuck as well as Undertale and Papyurs so everyone else can find them. Reblog this post or send it to your Papyrus loving friends, the more participants the better.

Edit: Please also add the tag 'swearing' so those upset by profanity can filter it, as it is one of the most standard tags for doing so. :>

3464 notes • Posted 2021-06-07 16:38:19 GMT

#2

OH MY GOD UNDERTALE IS TRENDING BECAUSE OF LET PAPYRUS SAY FUCK DAY HELL YEAH LET’S FUCKING GO

Edit: it's still trending the next day so I'm immortalizing it with the related tag

5096 notes • Posted 2021-06-16 18:03:10 GMT

#1

Oh you all know exactly what this post is.

Full post: 41911 notes • Posted 2021-09-15 09:04:14 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[kingsuckjin]

Ungodly Beast 2

⸸ Pairing: Devil! Jungkook x reader, Priest! Namjoon x reader

⸸ Rated: M (18+)

⸸ Genre: smut, horror, fluff?, angst?

⸸ Synopsis: You’d rather go to hell yourself than let the devil take your baby, even if he helped create him… even if your little boy is beginning to sprout horns.

⸸ Warnings: (may contain spoilers) death, kidnapping, kind of depression and some heavy feels, satanic symbolism, voyeurism, blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex (please wrap your ding dong before playing ping pong), more sinful shit, male masturbation, dom-ish reader, strangulation (like also not in a sexy way), dom! Jungkook, spit kink, the most dirty talk you've ever seen, fisting, fingering, dick size kink, daddy kink, degradation, impreg kink, pain kink, devil kook still looks wild, spanking, branding, choking, hair pulling, biting and scratching, blood play/blood eating, tattoo kink, really rough sex, a very jealous Jungkook, more death/murder, a very brief mention of drugs, fluffy sex, gore, a fight scene, it's just graphic and awful.

⸸ Words: 15k

⸸ Note: I’d link the first part in this fic here, but tumblr has been doing this cute little thing where if you insert a link in something then the fic won’t show up in the tags. So I very sincerely apologize for the inconvenience, but you’ll have to go through my masterlist to find part 1. Also, an anon told me that this fic goes really well with the album Too Weird to Live too Rare to die by panic at the disco, specifically the song Far too young to die, so if you're looking for something to listen too while reading this, then that would be perfect.

"What have you done?"

Those were your mother's first words after telling her you were pregnant. You had no idea how she knew, perhaps it was the worried, troubled, tired look on your face that that told her. Maybe she just sensed it, sensed the seed of half evil already taken root and growing inside of you.

You stayed silent, confirming an unspoken conclusion between you. She clutched at the rosary around her neck as her shocked, open mouth quivered and glossy tears pooled in her eyes.

"You didn't…" She whispered, "please tell me you didn't." 

Out of shame, you still didn't speak.

"How did you know?" You finally decided to ask.

"I've dealt with him before, I know the way his terrible presence feels, and now I feel it with you. I almost can't stand it." Her words both stung and made you have an unsettling feeling that crawled up your spine. Was it simply the baby she had felt? Had he marked you somehow and now it was you making her feel like this? Or was he with you? Silently watching and waiting.

"What did you give for the child?" Your mother was nearly in sobs now.

"He didn't tell me at first-" you began to try to defend yourself but your mother cut you off.

"He never does. What was it?" 

"He's taking him…" you felt the prick of tears sting your eyes now too. You had to cover your mouth quite suddenly to keep a sob from escaping. It hurt to think about, to talk about. You were afraid. "...when he turns five."

She took your hands between hers and looked you in the eyes.

"We will do everything we can, I promise. We will fight."

You nodded and attempted to blink away the tears.

"Pray with me. We can pray. God will help us, I know it." 

You nodded again as she gripped your hands firmly in hers reassuringly. She let her head fall slightly and closed her eyes prompting you to do the same.

As she started with her prayer, you began to feel a ringing in your head, the sound grew and grew until it was piercing, drowning out her words. A tsunami of nausea overtook your body so powerful you jumped up from your seat at your mother's kitchen table, knocking the chair back as you ran for the bathroom in a dizzy haze.

"Ah, they should call it all day sickness instead of morning sickness." Your mom had committed, seeming to brush it off, but you knew in your heart and deep in your soul that something was very, very wrong here.

From the moment you first saw him, you were in love. His big doe eyes, his chubby little cheeks, his soft little hands, and feet. Although he had no horns or black eyes, you tried hard not to see his father in him, which was difficult sometimes.

The worst memories for you were taking him to get baptized as a newborn. He had screamed from the moment you had entered the church and nothing you could do would calm him.

The moment the blessed holy water touched his skin, you watched as it seemed to burn and blister his infant skin in just seconds. You went out to your car in the church parking lot, 

calmed him the best you could before strapping him into his car seat, and you cried.

You cried because while he seemed to be a normal little baby, your son, the baby you feed with your own body, sing to, bathe, and love, you were occasionally reminded of what he was and that you might only have him for a very short time.

He still whimpered in the back seat just as you did in the front. Guilt and sadness and fear prompted you to get out of the car and into the back seat where you unfastened him as his pout only worsted your feelings. You took his small body in your arms and held him to your chest. Your nose snuggled into his mess of fluffy dark hair.

"I love you. No ones ever going to take you away from me. I don't care what you are, you're my son more than anything." You let your tears fall onto his head.

That wasn't the scariest thing you had been through though. The worst was the nightmares.

The first was just under a month after he had been born. You had sat up in your bed covered in sweat, the house felt like an oven. Your heart was beating hard even before you had heard it coming through the baby monitor.

Singing.

It sounded high and angelic along with the happy coos of your son. As your groggy mess faded with the race of your heart you also realized it was in a language you not just couldn't understand, but had never heard anything like it before.

It took no time at all for you to practically leap from your bed, and dash from your room and down the hall to your son's room.

As you pushed his door open you saw him. You felt like your heart was beating in your throat now as you saw him with his back to you holding your son, bathed in only the moonlight that the sheer curtains of the nursery let in.

The singing had turned to a soft hum. You realized how wrong you were upon pinning his voice like an angel. You saw the horns sprouting from his wavy hair that dangled as he looked down at the baby in his arms.

You wanted to scream, you wanted to fight, you wanted to do anything to save your baby and keep him from being taken away from you. He was a newborn, it wasn't even time.

You couldn't do anything though, and you didn't know why.

Horrifyingly you found yourself yet again drawn to him, in awe at his presence.

"You can't…" you managed to choke out.

"I will." He didn't turn as he spoke to you. After he spoke, you woke up.

You couldn't sleep very long for months after that nightmare. 

There was no denying by age two and a half that he looked more like his father. There was also no denying the little bumps you found while brushing his shaggy hair that sat on the top of his head under his skin. Most mothers would be concerned, wonder if their child had gotten hurt, and bumped their head a few times. But you just sat there frozen, feeling the bumps. You knew what they were, they were his father's claim to him, they were forming horns.

"Mommy okay?" Your son noticed your strange and oddly still demeanor as the hairbrush dropped from your hands onto the bathroom tile where you sat. 

That's when it hit you the hardest. Your baby was halfway there. Halfway gone. All you had done so far was helplessly try to deny the fact that he was coming for him. He would take your little boy and drag him to hell if you didn't do something to fight this, find some way, something, someone to help you.

"Mommy?" your son had turned around and was now reaching for your cheeks to smush with his hands like you often did him. His face read of concern and question. Your heart melted at his little gesture. You took in his sweet little face again, his little two front teeth poked out just a little. You couldn't help but squish his face gently right back.

"Mommy's okay." You tried to reassure him the best you could, and it seemed to work. Lucky for you toddlers were sweetly gullible.

The moment you got free time you sent a text to your mom telling her you'd be dropping her grandson off at her house tomorrow, you didn't wait for a reply as you already knew she would jump at any chance to see her grandson whenever she could.

You then made a very important series of phone calls.

"Thank you, thank you so much for meeting with me today on such short notice father-" 

"Father Namjoon or just Namjoon is fine." He interrupted. "And don't mention it, I'm here to help. You mentioned problems with your child?"

You took a deep breath and let your face finally show the worry you felt, your bouncing foot on the floor let out your anxiety. You sat there in his office at this tiny church. Worried he would throw you out the moment you told him the truth about what was going on.

Father Namjoon sat across the big worn wooden desk from you and waited patiently for you to further explain. Behind him on the wall was a massive cross along with pictures with him and maybe members of the church pinned to the wall.

" I'm afraid I didn't tell you everything over the phone because… well, every priest I've called said I was crazy and hung up on me after I told them." You admitted and watched as his body language changed with his growing attention.

"But father Namjoon, I swear on my son's life that what I'm about to tell you is the truth. My son is no trouble, but his father is. See, I would've brought my son in today, but he gets these… headaches and nosebleeds in churches." 

You watched his reaction carefully, he curiously tilted his head.

"Go on…" he urged.

"Because his father… is… the devil."

Namjoon gave you a nod of understanding that was far too casual for the words you said.

"I have proof." You defended before he could even think to refute your claim.

"I believe you." 

"What?" You asked thinking maybe you were only hearing what you wanted to.

"Listen," he leaned forward so that his arms rested on his desk. "He's real. I know he's real. The nervousness in your voice and you say you have proof… you seem perfectly sane to me. When can I meet with your son? Would your home be alright?"

"What are you doing right now? He's with my mother right now."

"Let's go." He said with sureness and no thinking time behind it.

He followed your car to your mother's home. You watched as he got out of his car and just stood there in the driveway, staring at the home.

"Something wrong father?" You asked as he brought forth the cross around his neck and clutched it tightly.

"I can feel him."

"My son? My mom says the same thing about him. We just assume he carries the same feeling as-"

"Not your son, the devil. He's here." 

Your heart began to race at the thought of encountering him again. Maybe you had gotten in over your head by asking a priest to see him, but you had to do something.

"Your cross." You stopped father Namjoon as he started to walk towards the door. "I'm sorry but you can't have it near him. My mother had to take down all of hers when he was born." 

His eyes seemed to shift around nervously before finally taking off his cross and putting it in his car.

"No worries." He gave you a reassuring smile. 

You expected more upon entering the house, not just for your son to casually be sitting there watching tv.

You and your mother had exchanged silent, nervous glances upon her letting you in and seeing the priest.

"Hey buddy, someone wants to talk to you." You knelt down and told your son but he seemed to ignore you.

Your mom turned off the tv, but it didn't seem to affect him.

"Touch his head." You whispered to Namjoon.

He stepped forward and crouched on the floor.

"Hey, little guy! What kind of show were you watching?" He placed his hand on your son's head to pat it but quickly retracted it.

"Don't touch me." your son spoke clearly and firmly. His speech was nothing like his normal, broken toddler way of talking.

You looked at Namjoon who still looked shocked by something, it had to be the growing horns.

"Daddy said don't touch me." Your son spoke again perfectly as if he were a few years older.

Daddy said

"Oh my go-" you couldn't help but let out at his words. Had his father been around this whole time? Just watching him… and you?

"I won't touch you, I promise. Could you turn around for me?"

Your son did as he was asked and faced the priest, looking up at him with wide, almost terrified eyes.

“Can I show him your back?” you asked knowing he would let you touch him before he would a priest. Your son nodded but seemed confused. 

You lifted the side of his shirt and showed Namjoon the mark spread along the ribs. The upside-down thick, black cross.

“Quite a birthmark you have there.” Namjoon joked with the boy.

“His father has the same one."

Namjoon stood to his feet which prompted you to do the same.

"Can we talk?" His eyes flickered towards the front door.

"Yeah of course." 

"Possibly off the property?" He added and you gave him a nod.

“I'll be back” you assured your mother as you left with the priest.

He led you to his car before asking if you wanted to get a coffee and told you he needed it after what he had just seen and felt. You understood and agreed.

He continued to apologize on the short drive there, but again you understood his need to process this.

It wasn't until after you both had gotten your drinks and sat down in a quiet corner of the shop that he began to talk openly.

“I’m still not sure what to think of all this, but I know you're not lying. He looks like him. My…” he let out a sigh as he played with a pink packet of sugar. “My grandmother had a run-in with him once, never said why or how, but she described him and the way his presence felt. I just don’t think it's your child making me feel that way. I really need to ask what happened between you and...his...father.”

“I-um..I…” you too took a deep breath and decided to explain everything as detailed as you could from summoning him, to only having a few years left with your son. You felt ashamed as you explained to this priest how you had slept with the devil.

Namjoon didn't seem to judge you though, as a matter of fact, he looked sympathetic. He seemed so sweet, kind, and understanding.

“I’m not sure what I can do here,” he told you and reached across the table to place his hand on yours “but I promise to do the best I can. I will do what I can to help protect your family and son.”

You felt the honesty and sincerity in his words, it felt so comforting to you.

“It’s going to be hard, I can just tell he doesn't want me there. I don't know if it’s because I’m a man or because I’m a priest. Let me ask you a rather personal question, have you dated at all since your son was born?”

“No.” you shook your head “I don’t want anyone getting attached to my son because I just don't know what's going to happen. Also, I’m afraid…he might do something. I just… I don't want to put anyone else into this that doesn't need to be.” that part hurt you too, you just felt so lonely on top of it all. “I've had no one to turn to with all of this except my mother.”

“Well, you have me now, okay? You don't have to feel alone anymore. We can solve this together.”

Namjoon had come up with a plan to meet with your son every other day, and at the end of the week, he would meet with only you and talk over the progress, if he had made any at all.

Just a few months in, there was a difference. It seemed his method of slowly introducing god and holy objects such as crosses were beginning to work, he no longer got headaches and nosebleeds around them, and his horns while still little bumps under his skin, they had stopped growing. That also happened to be the month your mother got very very sick. No matter how many times Namjoon came and prayed over her, she still continued to just slip away until she was gone.

And now you had no one but Namjoon.

The day after she passed away was the hardest. Your son was still too small to fully grasp the concept of death, but he still cried about his grandmother never getting to play with him again.

You had waited until you had put him to bed and he had fallen asleep to pour yourself a glass of wine and just cry.

Nothing could distract you from the pain, from the heavy misery, not even the pouring rain and house shaking thunder.

You had turned off all of the lights, the only thing that would occasionally light the room was the lightning.

You felt so alone, more alone than you've felt in your life. You tried hard to sense him, but he just didn't seem there. The one time you felt so desperate and alone, his presence didn't loom over you. 

“I hate you,” you spoke out loud. “If you can hear me I hate you. I hate that you've done this to me, I hate that you took her from me and your son. Are you really watching over your son or do you just love to see me suffer? Do you love to see me alone? Huh?” anger coursed through you as you talked to the walls “Answer me!” you yelled a little too loudly and worried that you would wake your son up so you decided to be quiet.

The desperation and loneliness felt like it was suffocating you, you had to do something.

You felt pathetic calling him up this late, but once you heard his voice you already felt better.

“Hey, how are you hanging in there?” 

“Not good Namjoon.” you sniffled “I-I just feel so alone, so in over my head. All the things my mom has done for me I just…” you did your best to hold back tears.

“Do you want me there? Is it alright if I come over so you don't have to feel alone?”

“Please?” Your plea was squeaky and weak.

“I’ll leave right now okay? It's just important to remember that you're not alone. God is with you.”

“Thank you. I don't know what I would have done this past few months without you.”

“Please, don't mention it.”

You don't know how it got here. You had only had a half a glass of wine in total, and a two-hour deep conversation and now you had pulled him into your room and you were ripping off each other’s clothes as if they were tainted.

“Fuck me” you tossed your shirt to the floor and pressed your lips back to his with ferocity. He sharply exhaled through his nose at how turned on he was by your demand, although you could feel it through his underwear. 

“You sure?” he mumbled into your lips. You let out a hum into his before sinking to your knees.

“Fuck.” he muttered, mesmerized as you pulled his underwear, letting it fall at his feet and letting his cock loose.

You let little time pass between the moment you saw his cock and putting it into your mouth. You were hungry for touch, for affection, for sex, for companionship, and you were sure to show that in the form of his dick in your throat. It was as if somehow you hoped it could fill that strange void that had existed in you for far too long.

He thrust in tandem with your head bobbing while letting out groans and sharp breaths of pleasure that just told you that it had been a while for him too. 

Thunder rolled in your dark room as you suppressed a gag and let your spit dribble down your chin. You were dripping with need at just the thought of sex.

As a brief flash of lightning lit the room, you swore you saw him in the chair in the corner of the room, legs crossed, watching you.

Could it have just been your imagination playing tricks on you? Could you have been just thinking about him? Was it what you wanted to see?

You closed your eyes as you took Namjoon deeper into your throat, letting the tip of your nose connect with his thin patch of pubes.

His hands tangled in the back of your hair.

"Can- can we have sex? Please? This feels too good to take this anymore." 

You took him from your mouth and got into the bed on all fours. He took a moment to take your body and pose in for a moment, but once his brain seemed to function again he got behind you on the bed.

His fingers ran down the skin of your back almost making you shiver.

He yanked your underwear down around your thighs and ran his fingers along your soaking folds.

"No teasing, fuck me."

You heard an almost inaudible moan behind you before feeling his tip at your entrance.

The feeling of him slowly sinking into you, filling you, felt so nice after so long.

"Be rough with me."

"O-okay." He stammered and grabbed the back of your hair to pull on as he began slamming into you.

The skin of his thighs slapped at the meat of your ass over and over, but it somehow just wasn't enough.

"Harder, call me names." 

"I won't- I can't call you names." He panted his refusal.

Thank god he was behind you so he couldn't see you rolling your eyes.

"Stop stop, stop." 

His hips quit moving at once.

"Lay on your back." You had had enough and wanted to take this into your own hands.

One he pulled out and played down you straddled his hips, reaching down to guide his cock into your entrance before sinking down on it.

The moment you slowly moved your hips with him buried inside of you he began to moan. You picked up his hands and placed them on your breasts.

"What do you think, father?" Your voice dripped with seduction as you clenched around him.

"You're so- oh god- so beautiful." 

"Wrong answer." You stilled your hips making him scramble for the right words.

"Your pussy is so wet… just for me." 

"All for you." You began to move your hips again with the answer that satisfied you. Possibly to make sure they didn't stop again his hands drifted down to your hips to move them faster on his own. You couldn't help the loud moan that slipped out of your mouth at him taking control just a little.

"You take my dick so well." 

"Fuck fuck." You chanted, moving your hips faster, feeling so close to losing it. You couldn't lie, the thought of him being a priest was really about to get you off right now.

"Such a bad girl." He murmured. Maybe he felt the same.

"Does it feel good being in the same cunt as the devil has been?" You teased.

You swore you heard a very short, unamused chuckle from somewhere in the room. 

"Fuck yes, fuck I'm so close." He aggressively moved your hips now, his fingers digging into your flesh and finally making you cum.

"Up up" 

You got off of him fast and watched ad his hand went around his cock to give it a few short jerks. His thick cum spurted from the tip. Coating his hand and shaft.

"I'll get you something to clean that up with." You climbed off of him as he quickly nodded.

"Darliiiiing" 

You felt a hand on your thigh that woke you from your sleep.

"Wake up, I need you." Your face contorted in confusion at Namjoon's words.

"Too tired." You muttered into your pillow.

"But I'm so hard for you." His deep voice whispered in your ear sending tingles through your body.

"All I can think about is your wet little cunt of yours. I'll do whatever you want me to darling." His hand ghosted up your back until it came around and reached your neck where he left it

"Mmm." You hummed in satisfaction as you rotted your ass into his once again hard dick.

"You like that? Hm?" His voice was so thick and rough with sleep. "What if I squeezed just a little?" His fingers tightened slightly around your throat.

You were more than ready now for round two, it seemed he had found some courage between when you fucked earlier and now.

"Who does your pussy belong to, darling?" 

"You." You whispered mixed with a moan. You needed him back inside of you so badly that you ached for it.

"You lying whore." His grip on your throat tightened, so much that it became almost impossible to breathe.

You struggled against his grip and tried to pry his hand from your throat.

"Your body and cunt belongs to the devil. Evil courses through your blood." You could hear the hate in his voice through his gritted teeth.

You tried to kick at him, hit him, but you could feel the tightness in your face and brain from lack of blood flow and oxygen.

"Stop, please." You attempted to choke out as your vision grew hazy.

"You belong in hell too." 

You thrashed until there was no more pressure on your throat, your hands and feet collided with nothing.

You sat up in your bed covered in sweat. You were alone and once again your room was as hot as the pits of hell themselves.

You picked up your phone from the nightstand, almost blinding yourself with the light from it as you checked the time. 

Namjoon had left hours ago. He had left upon your request.

"What the fuck." You sighed as you flopped back into your bed.

As you laid there the weight of reality seemed to feel heavier and heavier on your chest, crushing.

Your mother was dead, you had fucked a priest, the devil wouldn't leave you alone, and you had very little time before your son was gone forever.

Your bedroom felt too large, too spacious for your lonely body just as all of your problems did. Would you end up sucked into it all? Eaten alive? Was there any point in fighting at all?

You swallowed down the lump in your throat but it was no use. You couldn't stop the tears that filled your eyes and leaked into your hairline as you stared up at your ceiling.

"Please" your word brought forth your sobs in the empty room "make it stop. I'll do anything but give up my son, just make it stop."

You couldn't help it, for weeks after your dream you felt weird around Namjoon. The rational part of your brain knew he wouldn't hurt you, although you still denied any little advances he made. It did fade, and once he took you out to dinner and you let him put his hand on your knee, but he was careful not to overstep boundaries.

You thought about calling him one night as you laid there sleepless in your bed. You don’t know how you had gotten so turned on but your body felt so hot with need.

You tried to just roll over and go to bed, but your sensitive clit throbbed along with your heartbeat as if begging you to touch it. Sny motion you made at all only made things worse until you gave in.

You pulled up your oversized sleep shirt and shoved a hand down your panties. You paused a moment as you realized that it wasn't just getting off you needed, but contact with someone.

You went to reach for your phone on the nightstand, but your hand didn't even meet it before you froze.

"Don't." It was a command.

Your eyes flashed to him sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, just like you thought you had seen him a month ago with Namjoon.

You quickly pulled your hand from your underwear and sat up with your mouth agape.

"Did you miss me, darling?" His horns tilted as his head did.

"Get out of my fucking house and leave me and my son alone!" You growled, clutching your shorts angrily in your fists.

"Why? So you can fuck that priest again?" He held up his index finger, slightly shaking it making a tsk-ing sound. 

"Why does it matter to you what I do?" Your voice was stone cold.

He narrowed his eyes at you and leaned forward in the chair with a smirk. You couldn't stop yourself from thinking how regal and utterly beautiful he looked. He looked far more casual this time in a black t-shirt and jeans, but nonetheless majestic and powerful.

"You must've forgotten. That's alright, I wouldn't mind reminding you. I'm not here for our son, don't worry, not just yet."

"Then let's talk about that." 

"Talk?" He gave a little smile "we can talk. Come here." 

Although you wanted to, almost needed to, you stayed in your bed.

"Then feel free to keep going… unless you want some help."

"Tell me why you're here." You demanded.

"I'm here to save you. You called me."

"I didn't." You argued.

He beckoned you over once more as he stood from the chair. You got out of bed this time and stepped closer.

"You've done nothing but try to get my attention for months. Don't argue, you know I'm right. I can hear it again, that delicate little heart of yours fluttering when you see me." He reached a hand out for you, you took it, it was just so warm in yours. You let him pull you in until your back faced his chest with his hands on your sides.

"You called me, see?" You closed your eyes as he whispered to you, your bodies swayed together in a nonexistent song. It felt as though he was pulling you deeper into a trance, and you let yourself go.

"Does that heartbeat for me? Do you live for me? Do you want me?" You felt his nose graze your neck, the hot air from his worst trailing behind it. You had dreams of this moment for years. His whispers, his touch, the way he made you feel drunk and hypnotized you, the way he made you feel whole.

"Yes." You couldn't lie, everything but the truth had melted away, you couldn't feel or speak much else. You were weak for him, weaker than you remembered.

"Then are you mine?"

"Yes." You answered once more.

"I'll talk to you my love, about whatever your heart desires. First, tell me what it is you want from me." He whispered as you felt him grip the hem of your sleep shirt at your thighs. His hands brushed your skin. You continued to sway with him, eyes closed, worried that if you opened your eyes that this would all be a dream, worried that if you looked at him you'd fall deeper.

You didn't want to say it, you didn't want to admit you wanted him right now. He had done so much to you. Your internal struggle was hard, you wanted him desperately, yet he had done so much to you and your family. Even your closed eyes couldn't hold back the tears that escaped.

"Why did you take her?" A single son escaped but you shut it down, you refused to show all of your weakness.

To your surprise, he gently shushed you.

"Darling, I didn't take her. Her soul was never mine to take. I don't decide who lives and dies, it was just her time."

You were stunned, why was he comforting you? Why did it feel so good?

"Please don't take our son, he's alI have now, he-"

"I've thought about so many things. We can talk later, no tricks, no lies. You don't need to worry. Just let them all fall away and tell me what you want."

You bit your lip as you felt his cock begin to twitch beside you.

"You already know I want you." Your voice was a soft, weak whisper.

"Yes, but do you want me to hold and comfort you? You've been struggling so much with that. Perhaps you want my cock buried so deep inside of you that it hurts. Or maybe you just want me to pump that belly full of a second baby." 

His hand slid into your panties as you let out a gasp of excitement. Every nerve in your body felt hypersensitive, so when he slid his finger over your slit you cried out for him.

"All of it. Please, I want it all." 

"What a greedy, needy little bitch. Did that boring god loving freak not satisfy you?" He teased as his finger dipped into your folds and teased at your clit.

"N-no." You stammered.

"You didn't look like you were having much fun, not until you saw me at least." He seemed so amused by it. "I'm a little mad you let him poorly use you like that" he seemed to growl making slight fear go down your spine. "Who fucks you better? Who has a bigger dick?" His finger circling your clit picked up speed with the ferocity of his words.

"You." Your breath was already short.

"Tonight, prove to me that you're mine, that you're devoted, that you'll do whatever it takes for me, And I'll show you I'm yours." 

This wasn't happening, you couldn't believe the words he had just softly said into your neck. Your disbelief was cut off by your quickly approaching orgasm. You let out a whine as your knees turned to rubber, you would've fallen had he not have been holding you tightly against him.

"That's it darling, let me have you, let go for me." Your orgasm exploded through you like a bomb and all you could do was whine.

"Such a good girl." He still held you tightly and placed light kisses on your neck and collarbone as he took his tattooed hand from the front of your panties.

You let out a small shriek when he picked you up and carefully set you on the bed. He could've broken you in half right then and there, if he wanted to.

"On all fours, ass facing me." 

You hurried into position for him, and for a while, you felt nothing until you felt the fiery sting of a slap along a cheek.

You sucked in a breath.

"What's the matter baby, can't take it for me?"

He was so wrong, you loved it.

"I'll take whatever you give me." Your words were followed by the pleasure of another slap.

"Fuck it." He muttered and suddenly you were dragged by your legs onto his lap where he positioned you over it.

"Take anything for me, huh? We'll see about that." The slaps kept coming until your ass felt raw. You arched your ass up for him as you let out a needy whine.

"You're so fucking wet, it's everywhere. Do you want me to touch you? Is that what you're whining for?" 

You let out another whine.

"Say it."

"Please touch me. I want you to touch me." 

"I'll give you what you want." You knew that tone he used, it was the tone of having something else planned.

His fingers immediately sunk into your core.

"You're wetter than I thought, I could slide whatever I wanted into you so effortlessly." 

You could hear the sounds of his coated fingers working you too.

"Whatever you want." You replied hoping it was his cock, but you knew better at this point.

"My love, I'm going to absolutely fucking ruin you."

You went to reply but suddenly felt the slight stretch and sting of more fingers entering you.

"Ahhhh." You let out but backed up further onto his hand, still wanting more.

"What a good little whore, look at you riding my hand and taking it all for me." 

You loved the pain, and he gave it to you like no one else could. You were already ruined for anyone else, but he didn't know that.

His hand felt so deep inside of you that you swear you could feel it in your stomach.

"Harder." You begged,  and he obliged.

"You like me filling you like this, slut? I'm going to stretch your pussy so well for my big cock."

You continued to rock backward in tandem with his movements, it didn't take long at all until you were almost there, panting and gripping the sheets.

He stopped and slowly pulled his hand from your cunt, leaving you feeling more hollowed out than a pumpkin.

You left his lap and looked at him just in time to see his shirt come off. His body was just as beautiful as you remembered it, something of pure art and fantasy combined. Tattooed, muscular, and smooth you just wanted to lick every single inch of him, you had to.

You climbed back into his lap and pushed him back while you leaned forward and placed your lips to the very warm flesh of his collarbone. Your lips made their way down slowly to his nipples and enveloped one in your mouth.

"Ah." A sound of surprise and pleasure came from him, and you loved it, you loved that you could make him feel that way, you wanted more.

You took your mouth from his chest and crawled backward until you sat between his legs.

You undid his pants and pushed his underwear down along with him. You had almost forgotten just how massive his cock was. It was veiny and the tip was a blushed shade of pink that made your mouth water.

You spit in both your hands and wrapped them both around his shaft.

You slid your spit slicked hands over his leaking head before slowly bringing then down to the base.

"Faster darling. Don't play with me." He threatened with a grunt. You did as he asked and even added your mouth.

His hands tangled tightly in your hair at once.

It was hard to take him even halfway into your mouth without you gagging around his size and thickness filling your throat.

As you sucked his dick, you stared at the three black sixes on his lower stomach and watched as they moved as his muscles flexed.

"What I wouldn't give to cum down your throat right now."

You moaned around his cock at the desperation and lust in his voice.

"So fucking good for me. You suck my cock so well with your little whore mouth." He gripped your hair tighter but still not enough to hurt.

Him lying there, moaning and groaning as you pleased him made you all the more impossibly wet, you could feel it as you squeezed your thighs together.

"Please come here." He asked as he released your hair and sat up.

As you let his cock leave your mouth and too sat up only for him to lift and drag you onto his lap once again. He reached down and guided his cock into your entrance.

As you lowered yourself onto him he made a noise that should've stopped your heart.

It was a moan and a sigh all at once, he combined that with dropping his head onto your shoulder. The fullness and warmth of his cock inside of you, every little move he made, he was all just too much. How could you survive something like this a second time, especially with being this close to him.

He didn't move even an inch for a moment, not until he lifted his head off of your body and peered at you with those inky black eyes through his just as inky dark hair.

His net movements were fast, rough, and hard. He grabbed your hair from behind, forcing your head as far back as it could go without breaking anything. Your chest was arched towards him and he used it to his advantage by taking a nipple into his mouth as he bucked his hips into you quickly. All you could do was grip his shoulders for dear life as he fucked into you, fingernails sinking deeper and deeper into his muscular flesh the closer he pushed you to your high.

You felt the little sharp sting of him pinching your nipple between his teeth. You couldn't help but fall completely apart as you moaned out the filthiest curse words that you could.

Once he let your hair go and you could properly look at him, you saw beads of dark liquid forming on his shoulders. Your nails and grip had drawn blood, real human blood.

All you could do was stare. He bled just like you, he was vulnerable just like you, just like anyone else.

"Hm?" He caught your staring but seemed confused.

"I-I hurt you. I'm sorry." You furrowed your eyebrows with guilt.

He laughed, it was a real laugh, not a teasing one, not an unamused snort. His nose crinkled and his more prominent two front teeth were made more visible.

"It didn't hurt, I didn't even know you did it." He tried to get a look at the little droplets himself before wiping one away with his finger to show there was no mark left, he had somehow healed.

Each fleeting glimpse of his humanity vanished as soon as you spotted it.

His dick was beginning to soften inside of you despite him not getting off yet.

"Did you want to kiss it and make it better for me?" His voice was seductively playful and you couldn't tell if he was joking or not until he brought his blood-smeared fingertips to your lips.

You looked him in the eyes as you took them into your mouth and sucked them clean. He looked satisfied and you could feel his dick twitch back to life inside of you, showing you how much he liked that. Without a second thought, you attached your mouth to his shoulder and began to lick and cuck at the blood droplets where the wounds once were. The moment reminded you of when you were a child and they told you that wine was the blood of Christ, except this was so much better. You wanted to show him you were willing to take him in any way possible, to submit to every desire he had.

He pushed his now hard cock as far as it would go into you.

"I want to do something to you." He whispered as he continued to slowly thrust.

"Do it." Your reply was fast.

"It's going to hurt you." He added.

"Do it."

“I will. For now, shut up and bounce on my cock, slut.” his tattooed hand grabbed throat “ and you better fucking ride it harder and faster than you did that stupid Jesus loving freak.” his face read of disgust.

“Yes daddy,” you replied trying to hide the smirk at the satisfaction on his face from you calling him that.

He dropped his hand from your neck and you began to move your hips as he laid back. You would normally start slow, but you let him have it. Everything about him was incomparable to anyone you’ve ever slept with.

“Fuck, like that baby.” His hair was messy, his eyes were squeezed shut and his tattoo that looked like a snake that wrapped around his torso almost looked like it was slithering. 

“You like that daddy? I took every inch of your big cock just for you.” you loved the power over him that he was letting you have and you were going to make sure you got to enjoy it.

His hand shot to your hip and he squeezed.

“I swear If you fucking make me cum right now you’ll fucking pay for it,” he grunted obviously trying to hold back seeing as his hand was digging into your skin as if it was the last lifeline between him and losing it.

“Don’t you want to cum in my pussy daddy? Fill it full of cum and watch it drip out of me?” you continued to tease him and bring him even closer as you jackhammered up and down on his rock hard dick.

“Fuck, this is your last damn warning bitch.” his jaw was clenched, but it was too late, you were already falling apart on top of him, once again saying the dirtiest shit you could as he shuttered under you, barely hanging on as he watched you cum.

You paused, breathing heavily for a moment of rest, but it didn't last long. He was pulling out of you and throwing you face down on the bed, holding your hands by the wrists behind your back.

“I fucking told you, didn’t I?” 

“Sorry, dadd-”

“Did I say you could speak bitch?”

He wasn’t even inside you anymore but you’re empty walls clenched as you let out a small moan onto the bed sheets.

“Now let’s see just how fucking much you’re willing to take. Be good for me darling.”

You were scared but excited at the same time, the adrenaline that coursed through your veins was nothing like you’ve ever felt before.

“Yes daddy.”

“Don’t fucking move.”

You listened and stayed completely still.

You felt his hand cover the back of your neck. It got warmer and warmer until it felt searingly hot, it was burning your skin. You bit down on your lip so hard it had to have left a bruise just to keep from screaming. There was no way of stopping the whimpers that came from you in the few seconds that his hand was on your skin.

“There,” he said and sounded as though he was admiring his work before releasing your body and letting you sit up. By the time you sat up though, the pain was entirely gone as if it had never even happened.

“It’s the mark, to match.” you knew he meant that he had just branded you with an upside-down cross to match his and your son’s. You were too busy noticing the wetness on your cheeks and wondering where they had come from to concentrate on this strange sentimental moment.

You felt something warm roll down your cheek and lifted a hand to wipe away what you now realized were tears, but he gently grabbed your wrist.

With his other hand went to your chin and guided your head to face him.

You were met face to face with him, his dark eyes peering into yours and also assessing your wet cheeks.

Both hands now went to your cheeks and his thumbs wiped over the wet mess on your skin. 

He was trying to dry your tears.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” his voice was quiet. It was a glimmer of sincerity, a splinter of sweetness.

“I didn’t even feel it.” you joked but he didn’t buy it or laugh, instead he just continued to stare into your eyes with both hands on your face.

He leaned in so slowly, head tilting slightly and his lips met yours so gently. Your eyes closed and pressed your lips harder into his.

It was a sweet kiss but it held the strength and intensity of being punched in the stomach.

Your hands came up to roam the back of his shaggy, dark hair but your mind was elsewhere.

You imagined him as an average man, your son as a normal little boy, you imagined a family. Cuddling on the couch, touching him whenever you pleased, your son being able to play with his father, your life with him would never grow dull. However, your daydreams were dashed as your hand accidentally met with a horn. 

What was wrong with you? You knew these things were stupid and unattainable, he was unattainable. Although you had known this fact from the start, here you were sleeping with him again. He fucked you over so hard, he was pure evil and you knew it, but yet here you were falling for him even harder. To be fair though, was there a soul living or dead that could resist him, that ever has been able to?

You pulled away, his hands left your face.

He looked at you with wide eyes, he looked almost shocked, scared. There was some kind of very deep feeling moment between the both of you, some kind of wordless exchange of revelations. 

A million things you wanted to say to him flooded your mind at this moment. There were so many things you wanted answers to ”Do you know how miserable I was? Do you know what it felt like waiting for you in fear the entire time? Do you know how much I hate not being able to hate you? Do you know how bad it hurts me seeing your face in my son’s? Do you know how badly you ruined my entire adult life? Do you know how hurtfully perfect you look? Do you know how lucky and cursed I feel all at once? Do you feel any weight for the things you've done to me and my family?” but you were too scared this moment would end, that he would never come back, that he would take your son and leave. You wanted to cry, but you pushed the entire internal war out of your mind, you boxed it all away just to not ruin this moment.

During your thoughts and your stares at one another, his face had softened and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Y/n” you realized that it was the first time he had ever spoken your name out loud, and as beautiful as it had sounded coming from his lips, you didn't want to hear it spoken so guilt filled. “I’m so sor-”

"Are you going to make me cum again or not?" You broke the silence, and he seemed thrown off for a moment. You didn't know what he was apologizing for, but you didn't want to know. Not only did you want to shut this sad moment down just to have the fun back, but something inside of you hurt to hear and see him like this.

An expression you were familiar with him having flickered onto his face, a smirk. It relieved you and set the fire in your body back alight.

He tackled you with his hands wrapped around you. You were flesh to flesh, his lips moving to the space above your breasts, sucking hard before moving onto another are.

“Dont fuck anyone else.” it wasn't sharp like his normal demands, it was almost as if he was asking you not to without making it into a real question.

You almost snorted as he continued making an army of marks that continued to trail lower and lower.

You almost snorted sarcastically.

“Then who the Hell am I supposed to fuck?”

“Me, fuck me.”

You did sarcastically laugh at this one. 

“Don't laugh at me.” he said defensively before sucking a new place by your belly button.

“What? Every few years you’ll swing by and I just have to wait until then?”

“No. Are you even enjoying this anymore or have you now set your focus on calling me out?” he looked up at you with an arched brow.

“Calling you out seems more fun right now.” you were only half joking, all of that hurt hfrom earlier was now festering back up to the surface upon hearing his stupid lies.

“I told you I’d talk, and I will. Trust me.” he sat up and looked down at you.

“I’ve trusted you before and that was shitty.” you argued.

“Then why the fuck are you fucking me now? Why the fuck are you letting me mark you? Why the fuck are you telling me you belong to me?” he shot back.

“BECAUSE I WANT TO PRETEND YOU'RE NOT… NOT...I DON’T KNOW...THE ACTUAL FUCKING DEVIL!” you whisper yelled at him through clenched teeth.

He came down over you and looked you in the eyes for a moment with such a look you thought he might kill you, but instead his voice was quiet and calm.

“If you think I’m incapable of feeling then you’re wrong, you're dead wrong. If I didn’t feel, then why would I want my son? Why have I been watching him grow, watching you love and take care of him and doing my best not to interfere with your time with him. I may not be mortal but I have feelings, I have empathy. Do you understand the shit I have to see and be in charge of? Do you know what it feels like to just want something so pure in good while living in something so fucked? Watching you and our son has been the only sliver of heaven that I’ve ever been able to have.” his arms were shaking as he held himself over you. You had never seen his body show any signs of tiredness or weakness, even his wounds had healed right up. He was shaken talking about this and it was obvious.

It hit you hard. Why would he want to take him? Why did all of this just make sense?

“So please, don’t take this away from me right now. Let me make you cum again, let me just have this for a little longer and we can talk.”

You were stunned. He had felt the same way, he wanted to drag this out just as much as you did, he wanted to cherish this. The question now in the air was, if you both wanted to be together, then why couldn't you?

You yanked him by the hair, forcing his lips to collide with yours. Your tongue clashed with his split one, but it no longer surprised you or made you nervous. While little about him was normal, what was normal anyway? From the moment you saw him as he really was you had thought he was perfect, so why until now had you been wishing for him to be the man you first saw at the bar? Was it because the puzzle piece of his humanity had been missing in an otherwise perfect puzzle?

Your teeth gnashed together as if you were young, new lovers blooming with anticipation, as if you had never touched before now, despite fucking for god knows how long already.

He bit at your already sore lip you had bitten down on, but he wasn't harsh.

“I want you.” you told him meaning more than just how he took it. He reached between both of you and pushed himself into your already abused core, you winced from the ache and the sensitivity.

“Close your eyes” his voice was so quiet you almost didn't hear his instruction.

You closed them though.

“Now imagine me like you.”

“Why?” you asked.

“Humor me.” 

You did, you imagined him like he was the night of the bar, like you had thought of him earlier.

“Now run your hands through my hair.”

With your eyes still closed, you felt for his hair before coming them through the soft, wavy strands. Your eyes opened just to make sure what you were feeling was correct. As you looked at his hornless head, his brown eyes looked down at you. Now you properly looked him in the eyes and now that you could see his irises, you knew now that he was looking right at you, not just at you though. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen with a small smile of amusement.

“I just wanted to have this moment with you, like you. I thought it would mean something to you to not have to look into cold, black pits.” 

The man looking and speaking to you right now was not the devil, he wasn't horrible or evil but neither was the man he was before but you were yet to know why he did the things he did.

You lifted your neck this time to kiss him and his lips chased yours as you laid back onto the pillow. He once again slowly began to thrust, short breaths and quiet moans escaped you both. Your legs entangled around his hips, angling your own body so he could hit just the right place.

“Be with me.” his voice shook as he continued to thrust “I’ll do anything.” he sounded just so weak as if he were pleading.

“I’m already yours, don't pretend you don't know that.”

“Let's have a family then, I’ll stay.” he rested his forehead on top of yours, his eyes were closed, hips still moving hard cut slow as if with each powerful but passionate thrust was a chance to convince you to be with him.

“As-” you could feel yourself coming closer and struggling harder to catch your breath. “As long as you stay.” You knew it, if he went away, if you lost him tonight, nothing would ever feel this good again, you'd never feel this complete for as long as you lived.

“Let's start now on expanding.” you could see his slight smile before his voice turned serious and sultry.” want me to put another baby in you?”

“Please, fuck I’m so close.”

“Come on baby, cum for me one more time.” he picked up the pace with his hips up just a little more. “Let me get you pregnant again.”

He only thrust into you a few more times before you were coming undone underneath him.

“Fuck, I love you fuck fuck fuck.” you moaned as he also let go, burying himself deeper than he already had been.

“I love you, I love you too.” he messily kissed your lips as you felt his last few pumps slow.

Only when he had said it back did you realize you had said it at all. 

You were still breathing heavily as he pulled out and laid down next you. There was silence between you, for a while as you both recovered.

"I said I would talk so here it is."

You decided to just lay there and listen to him.

"I've always known we were supposed to be together, always. There are things I just know, I can't explain it, sometimes I just know destiny and sometimes I don't until certain events happen. Ever since I became the king of hell I've always known that eventually there would be one woman that would bring me to my knees. They call her Lilith, although that's not her name just as satan, the devil, whatever, isn't mine. There have been stories and mythology written about you that just aren't true, much like everything else in my life. When I met your mother, I knew I was fucked. So I stopped you from being able to conceive, how was I supposed to know I was only helping destiny along? When you summoned me I was nervous, although curious as to what you would be like, I never watched you until you began to work on summoning me. I developed a plan. I thought if I just gave you what you wanted and then took it away from you then you would hate me, you would never want to see me again, but yet again I plated into destiny. The moment I saw my son… when I watched you care for him and love him, I-I felt this longing. I wanted to hold him, I wanted to be with you both. I kept my distance and fought against the urge to just drop in and tell you how I felt. I resented you for the power you held over me, but at the same time I wanted to give you your space and let you have your time with him. I was still going to take him but at that point it was out of love. I knew you were still angry with me anyway, rightfully so, I also thought… that you couldn't love someone like me anyway, you were better off with a mortal and I wanted to let you live your life. I watched your pathetic attempts to protect our son from me, at least you thought you were only trying to protect him. You're a good mother, just like yours was. When our son was really little I used to sneak into his nursery and just hold him and stare at him, I could see you in him. The point where I knew I had to step in was the priest. Not only did he treat my son like his, not only did you fuck him and make me jealous but-"

He abruptly wet quiet just as the anger in his voice seemed to pick up.

"I'm sorry." You replied.

"It's not that, it's not any of that that makes me hate him, it's not my jealousy." He still didn't say what it was, but instead he got out of bed.

"Where are you going?" You sat straight up.

"I'm going to shower if that's okay." He replied as he shuffled for the bathroom attached to your room.

"Sure." He was already in there by the time you uttered out your dumbstruck reply.

He had said he would stay, you don't know why him doing average things in your home just astounded you.

You laid back in the bed with the reassurance of him planning to stay and you thought about it all.

At first you asked yourself what your mother would think of this, what she would say. Maybe if she knew everything that he had just told you she simply wouldn't say anything at all. She had been able to love the devil's son and see him for just the little boy he really was, so maybe she would've done the same for the devil himself had she really known him.

You were beginning to feel uncomfortable with the stickiness of his speed leaking out and smearing all over your thighs.

Some part of you was nervous to go into the bathroom with him showering in there, but it was your house.

You ran to the bathroom as fast as it could to keep the cum from dripping everywhere and making a mess on the floor.

You paused as you caught a glimpse of his silhouette through the shower curtain.

His horns had returned, but you didn't look at him as much as his overall shape, you could help your staring.

"I hear your heart again, are you looking at me?" He chuckled and your eyes went wide with the horror of being caught.

"I…"

"Do you want in here with me?"

"...y-yes?" 

"Get in, I promise to just let you shower, no funny business." He offered.

He kept his word though, he did his own thing in the shower and so did you. He did look jarringly beautiful with the water beading on his tattooed skin and muscles, but you didn't know how much more your body could physically handle of him so you kept your hands to yourself.

He got out of the shower before you, you were a little concerned at the silence so you got out soon after.

You found a fresh towel and pajamas waiting for you on the bathroom sink so you quickly dressed.

He just sat there in a white t-shirt and black sweat pants at the foot of your bed. His head was down and he looked to be in deep thought as he stared at the floor. He looked a little sad.

"Have you seen him since you've been here?" You asked curiously, making him finally look up and shake his head.

"Would you like to?"

He seemed shocked by your offer.

"I wouldn't want to wake him…" 

"It's alright, he's a good sleeper, he'll go back to bed… if you want to that is."

"I really really want to, I haven't seen him person to person since he was a newborn."

You led him down the hall and pushed open your son's cracked bedroom door.

His night light dimly lit the form of his little body snuggled in his toddler sized bed.

You let his father take a few apprehensive steps into the room, slowly approaching him before he knelt on the floor by the bed.

You just looked on at the little moment.

He gently pushed his son's shaggy hair from his sleeping face, but caused him to stir.

"Daddy?" You heard your son's sleepy voice ask. You had no idea how he knew it was his father, and from the look on his father's face, neither did he.

"Hey buddy." 

Your son sat up and threw his arms around his father's neck, who promptly picked him up and stood. He wrapped his arms around the little boy, holding him close.

"How did you know it was me?" 

Your son unwrapped his arms from his father and looked at his face.

You saw his lips begin to quiver and his eyes fill with tears as he started to break down.

"Oh no." You whispered as you saw your boy stare at the horns on his father's head.

"Your horns are scaring him." You whispered.

Your son patted the top of his own head as he sobbed in his father's arms.

"Me too, I too."

"Oh." You said as you realized that your son was answering his dad.

"You have them too? That's how you knew, huh?"

Your son nodded to his father and began to cry harder. His dad pulled him back into his body, lightly shushing him and patting his back. He buried his head in the little boy's hair much like you had the day in your car after he was horrifically baptized.

The moment hit you like a train.

He had missed his father all this time, and you had no idea.

"you know I'm always with you, right? You and mommy both." 

Your son nodded into his father's neck, soaking his shirt with tears although his father didn't seem to mind at all.

"I know you hear me sometimes. You know I'm here." 

Your son pulled away from him again to look at him.

"Daddy-" his words were cut off by upset hiccups from crying so hard "no leave."

"I'm not. I'll stay, I promise." 

His father knelt back down on the floor and attempted to lay the boy back in his bed, but his little hands stayed locked around him.

"I'll be here when you wake up, and all of the rest of the days when you wake up from now on, you can let go, I'll be right here."

Your son finally relinquished his hold on his father who pushed more hair from his son's face.

"And mommy?" Your son's eyes look at you now.

"Mommy has always been here, silly." His father then spoke something in a strange language, it might've been the one from your dream after your son was born.

Your son gave his father a nod not just as if he understood, but he did understand this very strange language. You had never heard your son speak it, and you had no idea that he even knew a whole other language, until he spoke it back to his father.

He sat there knelt beside his son's bed until he drifted off to sleep. You watched as he gave him a kiss on his forehead before standing and turning to face you.

You walked into the hall and closed your son's bedroom door when he looked at you with a look of concern.

"There's still more I have to tell you, it's the most important thing."

"You're going to have to trust me, okay?" He asked from his seat on the sofa beside you. "There are things I know and things I don't, you have the power to change destiny, and right now what I'm seeing is someone is going to try to take you away from us, from your family."

"Okay," you tried to patiently follow, ready for him to say anything.

"Namjoon is going to kill you."

"Why's he going to kill me?" 

"I had this deal with his whore grandmother… she wasn't happy with it, it wasn't my fault. It's not my fault mortals are idiots."

"Hey." You firmly snapped at him.

"It's just what I do, I teach lessons. Anyway, I believe Namjoon is going to hurt you and maybe even our son. He can't physically harm me, I'm immortal, but he can hurt the things I care about. Unfortunately, I can't kill him either, I can't kill humans, God's rules. So I can't stop him, there's nothing I can do but pass this to you. It doesn't matter what you do, Namjoon will hunt you down."

"Okay." You simply just sat there looking calm on the outside but terrified on the inside.

"So, y/n… I think it's kill or be killed in this case. If you die, I'm not sure how much I can do to protect our son but take him with me…" 

To hell was what he meant.

You let out a sigh as you stared at the floor and scraped together some kind of plan.

"Take my soul." You offered.

"Why?"

"In case something happens to me, take my soul." You were sure of your decision.

"I'm not taking your soul." He declined.

"Why?" It was your turn now to ask.

"Do you want to go to hell? Do you realize how many eternities you would be tortured down there before I ever found you?" 

"No." You answered both questions and seemed less sure of your offer now.

"I'm not taking your soul. Our son could come and go with me because he has that power, but you, a pure mortal… you would be in more pain than you could ever imagine." 

"But if I killed a man… wouldn't I go anyway?" You pointed out.

"Not if it was out of self defense for you and your family."

"What the fuck am I saying?! I can't kill father Namjoon!" You realized.

"Y/n, I know he's going to kill you, and I don't want to lose you, I'd do anything not to lose you. What about our son? What about our second child?"

Your mouth dropped open.

"Second child? It-we…?"

"It's not just you living in that mortal body anymore. I know, just like I did the moment I gave you our son. You have to live, you have to do this, you have to trust me."  He reached for your hand and threaded his fingers through yours. "I love you and I need you here with us."

"How do I do it?" You gave in.

You were terrified as the phone rang.

You had just left your son with the babysitter and you sat in your car. You were alone but you felt him near you.

"Hey!" Namjoon's voice came through cheerfully and it made you feel sick.

"Hey, I'm not doing so great tonight. Everything is a bit heavy and I kind of want some fresh air. Would you go for a walk with me at the park? I know it's late but…" 

"Of course. The one closest to where you live, right? I'll meet you there in a few."

You thanked him before hanging up.

"I'm sorry you have to do this." He appeared right beside you in the passenger's seat now, but you didn't look at him, instead you spaced out while looking out the window at the dark park. You were nervous, you were trying to ready yourself, you were trying to wrap your head around this situation.

"What happens after? What do I do right after?" You asked.

"I'll take care of everything. No one will know." The grim thought of what that entailed was shadowed by reassurance of only having one task to do. "You just wait in the car, I'll drive us home. I'll take care of you." 

"What if he sees this opportunity to kill me like I do with him?" You asked with your hands shaking in your lap.

"I think he would wait for a moment when our son is with you, pick you off at the same time." 

Your mouth was dry, but you still tried to swallow down the weight of his words.

"But what if I die? You said you don't know all things." You continued to think your worries out loud.

"I also said people can change destiny, they do it all the time." 

"You haven't been able to." Your point made him go silent a moment. It was true, he had been fighting against his destiny with you since before you were born only to end up with you.

"Part of me didn't want to change it, even if I hated it at first. I've always wanted you. The first time I saw you I knew I wouldn't be able to stay away from you. The first time you saw me, I just wanted you to look at me that way forever, I didn't care about anything anymore and that was scary. You're my Lilith, my eternal soulmate, there was never any fighting you. There's nothing more powerful than what we have, not me, not god himself."

"What if you're tricking me?" You asked abruptly.

"You really think I would?" His voice sounded hurt and you could feel him looking at you as you said nothing "of course you do, of course you'd think that after what I've done and because of who I am." His voice was soft now like he had accepted that option "I wish I could take back what I did to you, everything I've done to you. I wish I never would've made that deal with your mother, I wish you would've had a family with a normal man, a normal life… what have I done?"

"Like you said" you sighed "it was supposed to happen anyway, it's not all on you. I've suffered for you, and now I'm going to kill for you. Would I be doing that- any of this if I really thought you were tricking me?" You admitted. "Maybe I'm just blinded by you, so in love with you and wanting a family with you that I can't see anything else, you're the devil, it's probably what you do, but what other option do I have anyway?" 

"We could go home." He offered softly. "We could have our family and play pretend until it's ripped away." You could hear him swallow louder than his soft words."Then I'll have nothing, but at least I would've had everything for just a fraction of a moment in my eternal life."

"I'm not going to live forever anyway you know, our son might, but I'm human. I die, and when I do I'm destined to be tortured in hell for eternity." 

"You're not going to hell." 

"How do you know?" You asked partially out of curiosity "I'm in love with Satan, I bare his mark, I bared his child. How much more sinful can I be? You can't sit there and tell me Satan's soulmate is going to heaven."

"God has never let me have anything. If he decides it's your destiny and your time to go, if you're taken from me and I can't have you in life, he's not going to let me have you in death." He explained.

You sat there thinking about what he said and came to the very real conclusion that you were most likely going to die tonight. God wouldn't let him have you, he had already seen that Namjoon would kill you, you were going to die. 

Your eyes began to fill with tears as everything finally began to sink in.

"Please take care of our son." 

"Don't." He snapped at you "Don't you say that shit like I'm going to lose you."

You began to sob, you weren't listening to him.

"You're going to go out there and fuck him up and that's going to be the end of it." His voice was stern, but you were falling apart. You let your head fall onto the steering wheel.

"Why wont you just take my fucking soul?!" You cried in despair and frustration "you have every single fucking thing in my life but that, just take it god damn it! Take it and let me burn until you find me. I will obviously go through anything for you and our son at this point. Just fucking take it." 

"You don't deserve it. I don't deserve you, okay? I've fucking destroyed your life, I'm not dragging this into the timeless afterlife, no matter how badly it hurts. We have one single shot, and this is it. I'm fucking horrible, I'm the worst of the absolute worst, but there’s no way I'm going to be that selfish to let you rot in hell because of me." 

"Please?" Your voice was a desperate squeak as you finally turned to him. "Fuck." You uttered at what you saw.

There was a dark liquid running from his pitch black eyes and down his cheeks.

"Is-is that fucking blood? Are you crying blood?" 

You watched as it pooled at his chin and dropped onto his white shirt.

"Please do everything you can tonight." He ignored your question and begged you.

If you had a doubt that he loved you before, you didn't now. You watched as he closed his eyes.

"God," he began, he didn't seem as though he was talking to you at all "just let me have this, please? I'll do anything. Just let me have my family."

The dark car was suddenly illuminated by headlights coming from behind. You turned to see a car pulling into the parking lot.

"I'll be with you." He spoke as Namjoon parked beside your car.

The passenger's seat was empty when you looked back.

This was it.

You felt for the pocket knife you had put in your pocket upon leaving the house and your adrenaline began to rush through your body.

You willed your weak legs to get out of the car.

You forced a half-hearted smile but did your best not to look him in the eyes.

It was quiet at first as you both started down the dark trail.

"Don't get offended, but you look terrible." 

You hadn't slept since you had gotten your mission yesterday night, your mind felt fried and stressed and tired.

"It's been hard." You were honest about how you felt.

"Why is your lip bruised? Did you get hit?" He pried as you thought back to how hard you had bit it the other night.

"No, I did it, by accident." Although it was the truth, you wouldn't have believed it either with the way you had said it.

"Are-are you seeing anyone? It's been a few days since we talked and-"

"No." You lied quickly.

"If there's anything I can do to help you or your son… I know things are still rough for you…" 

"We'll be okay." 

He gave you a strange look.

"You're not still worried about… him?" You could hear the suspension in Namjoon's voice and you knew you had to say something to extinguish it for now.

"I am, I just don't know what's left to do, I feel so hopeless." You said as you saw the path begin to lead into a more wooded area ahead.

"Don't you feel him right now?" Namjoon asked.

"He's always just… around, I'm used to it. Maybe it's just me at this point." 

"What's that on your neck?" He reached out to see.

You had to do it now, you felt like your mark had given you away.

You stepped back out of his grasp as you quickly took the knife from your pocket and flipped it open. You didn't know if he had time to see it or not before you lunged at him.

He had put his hands up to stop you but the force you had come at him sent him toppling backward. 

You went to plunge the knife into his neck only to feel his hand around your wrist stopping you.

He yelled for help but there wasn't another soul at the park, you had been here awhile waiting, you would know.

You used your other hand to help overpower him, but he was still stronger even with all of this adrenaline and chemicals coursing through your body, even with the image of your family in your mind.

"Stop!" Namjoon yelled at you, but this was too far gone to stop now, your mind was already made up. You knew that if you stopped now then you would be the one who died.

Your arms were beginning to grow tired and your strength was weakening and because of that he was able to shift the point of the knife towards you.

In one last burst of strength you tried to switch the knife's direction back towards him but your muscles just gave out.

You didn't feel the pain of the plunge into your chest at first, but you felt the crack of your ribs at the sheer force. You were in shock, it didn't feel at all like you had just been stabbed. You let go of Namjoon and rolled over onto the cool grass as you tried to process everything.

You could hear Namjoon panicking, sitting over you, trying to help you,  it was confusing.

Why was he trying to help you? He wanted you dead.

"Please? Where are you?" You choked out. It was hard to breathe, you felt like you were drowning as you looked up at the stars.

"Get away from her." It was the only voice you wanted to hear, it had brought you some kind of peace.

You saw Namjoon look at something with wide eyes before leaving your line of vision. His quick footsteps on the ground you lay on got further and further away. 

You continued to choke and gasp.

Jungkook watched in the distance as the knife was turned on you and the blade disappeared in your chest.

It hadn't hurt until now. It was as if you were his voodoo doll. He had never felt pain before, but once he felt the sting, he knew exactly what it was, although his pain came from the inside. Until now he had been watching coldly, waiting for this to happen, knowing you would die.

You had to die, there was no other way you'd let him have his son, there was no way you'd let your son end this world. You were too compassionate, too human, too emotional. You were all the things Jungkook never thought he was. Perhaps you completed him in many ways he only was now able to realize.

He was able to fool you so well, tell you all the sweet things you needed to hear to lead you to your own demise. But why did it only now hurt him? Had it been so easy to lie to you because maybe somewhere deep down in his unbeating heart he knew that maybe you really were the one? He felt as though that as you laid there dying, that you were forcing your most human parts into him, you were cursing him.

He had never actually thought you were his Lilith, his soulmate, not until now as he watched you bleeding out and physically felt it. He felt the weight of every sweet thing and lie he had ever told you pressing on his chest. Your face, the sweet moments, holding you, the guilt of never telling you his name, everything flashed before him. He wondered for a moment if he was dying too.

"I have given you a gift, the gift to feel.Your heart is broken, child. Go to her, be with her in her last breaths before I bring her home."

It wasn't even a voice that Jungkook heard, but it wasn't in his head either. He knew who was speaking to him. He suddenly felt enraged. He wasn't going to let God take you away from him.

"Get away from her." Jungkook boomed making the silly mortal that was panicking over you run at the sight and power of his voice.

Jungkook knelt down beside you and watched as the blood flowed from the corners of your mouth and tears streamed from your eyes.

"He's not going to take you from me! God damn it! Please don't take her!" Jungkook knew you wouldn't go to hell, god himself had said so. You did nothing wrong, you had been fooled by him just like Eve had been, and Eve still went to heaven when she died. He would never see you again and it hit him harder than anything ever had before.

Jungkook  lifted his hand, the one he hadn't unknowingly slipped through your fingers, and produced a flame which gave way to a scroll of paper.

He pulled you into his lap as you continued to choke. He put your hand to your wound and dipped your fingers into your blood.

"It's okay, it's going to be fine, please just sign it, you have to move, sign it." He let go of your hand but it was limp. There was no more choking, only a faint rattling coming from you now.

"Please please just sign the paper." He begged. "I'm so sorry, I was wrong, I did this and I'm so sorry. It hurts so badly, sign the paper, I need your soul, I need to find you." 

Silence.

There was no hummingbird heartbeat, there was no heartbeat at all as he looked into your empty eyes that still looked back at him. Your body lay in his lap with the mark he had given you, but you were gone. 

“But I love you...” it was the first time in his existence that he had said it and meant it. You had never known he didn't mean it, you had never known everything he did was a lie, maybe it was best that way. Despite not feeling any of it before, he felt it now, all at once. If he could do it all over again just to mean it, just to experience those feelings along with you he would. He would have held you longer, cried more, he wouldn't have ever let you do this, he wouldn't have fed you those dreams and lies and he would have protected you. Namjoon never wanted to hurt you.

All Jungkook wanted to do now was hold you, so he did until you grew cold. It wasn't fair he only got to feel this after you were gone as punishment. He wanted to go back, he wanted to start over, but it was too late. What kind of cruel god would gift him with his now?

His chest continued to sting, as his anger continued to fester. He hated everything, God, Namjoon, himself, this horrible fucking mortal world. 

He was going to burn it all. He never wanted to make another deal with any human ever again.

Whilst he couldn't touch these stupid fucking humans, his son could, he was half human.

This wasn't supposed to happen for another few years. He didn't think his son was old enough just yet, but it would have to do, he was still naive enough to destroy humanity on his father's command. All he had to do was show his son what he was capable of, fill him with rage for his dead mother, and watch the world burn. All Jungkook knew was fire and destruction, now his son could learn as well, both of them with a bitterness in their hearts.

Jungkook let out a loud scream of anger and frustration and all of these new feelings that he didn't want that felt like they were internally ripping him apart. 

The entire park was sent up in flames, including your body.

The end was coming early for this world, it was over. He was going to destroy every last one of God's precious creations for making him feel like this.

[wonderfulworldofwinchester]

What’s Becca Reading?

Weekly Fic Recs for the weeks of 3-/15-4-5

Thanks so much for being patient! After being  out of town and then recovering from some health issues, I am back! 

As always please feel free to tag me in any fics! I’d love to read them!

If you have any issue with being included in this list, please do not hesitate to reach out. I promise I won’t be offended and your work will be removed promptly.

|  Weekly Recs Masterpost  |

Want to be tagged in upcoming recs lists? Send me an ask or add your self to the What’s Becca Reading? list in this google doc :)

*Yes I’ve been reading the hell out of @tvdspngirl314​‘s work sue me XD * 

Series

------Keeping Up With The Winchesters by @tvdspngirl314

Summary : To take a break from everything, you move into Lawrence, where you meet the Winchester family and work for their bakery. Can you survive with three men constantly hitting on you?

Ship : Dean x reader, Sam x reader, John x reader (platonic)

Warnings : crack, angst (eventual), fluff

Characters : you, Dean, Sam, John, Mary, mentions of few ocs

------Save Yourself by @weasleywinchester

Series Summary: “I promise.” Those two words would trap you in a life you never wanted. You are an artist, a hunter, a Winchester. And yet the pain in Dean’s eyes as demanded you live the life he wants you live, you couldn’t say no. You met the Winchesters by chance, found out they were real people. And you figured it was a once in a life time thing, but then Dean called you, and so did a new job. Both leading to the life you wanted, a family that didn’t begin or end in blood and a once in a life time love. And he said leave it and him behind, forget. But you can’t.

Warnings: None as of now! Eventual Smut, angst (??) Idk I’m new, I don’t know how to do these tumblr writing things!

-----What She Doesn’t Know by @tvdspngirl314

Summary : With his marriage life on rocks, when his ex girlfriend who also happens to be his wife’s sister shows up into his life back again. Will Dean resist her or give into his desires.

Ship : Dean x Lydia (ofc), (eventual) Dean x reader

Warnings : 18+, angst, smut, cheating, a little bit of fluff, relationship drama

---Mechanic and Mistletoe by @deanwanddamons

Summary: Y/N, an ER nurse is driving home to her Mom on Christmas Eve. Her car breaks down on the side of the road. She calls Winchester Singer Autos and Bobby sends Dean to help her. Will she make it to her Mom in time for Christmas? And will she get back home in time for her shift on Boxing Day?

Universe: Mechanic AU

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Warnings: Slow build, Mechanic AU, Fluff, Smut, Angst. Each chapter will have individual warnings.

----- Supernatural Investigations by @deanxmon​

Detective! Dean Winchester x detective! reader x Liam Harris (o.c)

Synopsis: Detective Winchester and Detective Y/L/N have always been the heart of N.Y.P.D. supernatural investigations. What happens when Dean returns from an investigation in Italy and finds Y/N close to another guy?

Stand Alone

-----Stand By Me by @tvdspngirl314

Summary : Jensen finally decides to confess his feelings for you

Ship : Jensen ackles x F! Reader

Warnings : fluff, a lots of fluff, nervous Jensen

-----You’re Blushing by @soaringeag1e​

Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Swearing? Just a Ton of Fluff!

Words: 3,019

Prompt: "It's cold, you should take my jacket"

----- Calamitous Love by @herstarburststories​

Paring: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean shows up at your house, but this is a calamitous love. Sooner or later, it's going to destroy.

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, fluff, angst, dean is a perv in a cute way, s1 dean Ily

----- Sam Winchester: Glasses by @impala1967dwinchester​

Warnings: Sam because he’s always a warning, the reader fantasizing about Sam, implied smut, the reader has a crush on Sam, Sam playing clueless, little tiny mention of Dean, Dom!Sam, Sub!Reader

Summary: When Sam brings his glasses out to be able to read the lore, the reader does nothing but stare at him.

Word Count: 1.5k

----- What Went Wrong by @sofreddie​

Summary: Dean tries to propose but a misunderstanding ruins everything.

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: Angst, Drinking, Fluff

Word Count: 1,680

Short and Sweet

----- Mine by @girl-of-many-fandoms​

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x ReaderPrompt: "I'm not jealous, I just don't like other men touching what's mine"

Warnings: None

@tillielynn16 , @fandomaskedstuff , @naruko88558855 , @saltysamgirls ,  @hillface89 , @unusualcorn , @trilloku-blog , @perpetualabsurdity , @ria132love , @emoryhemsworth,  @mogaruke , @dramaqueenrolf,  @ghost–facers , @herbologystudent252 ,  @darthhayber , @nj-padackles , @arses21434 , @cassiopeia-barrow , @percussiongirl2017 ,  @gailski1975 , @squirrel-moose-winchester , @waywardbaby , @lebanese-chickpea-blog​ , @hobby27​ , @ogwatergirl , @mystriee​ , @destielhoneybee​ , @buckybarnesisaninnocentman , @alexwinchester23​ , @curly-haired-anxiety , @gh0stgurl​ , @heyitscam99​ , @dean-winchesters-bacon​ , @andkatiethings​ , @fk12b​ , @jaremish​ , @thelovelyoldscentofabookshop​ , @awkwardnesshabitat​ , @I-hear-crazy-calling-my-name , @adoptdontshoppets​ , @spn-tw-37​ , @maddiepants​ , @spnwoman​ , @spnbaby-67​ , @screechingartisancashbailiff​ , @fanfictionismydeath​ , @sarcasticbitch86​ , @baby7879 , @monkeymcpoopoo​ , @shyartnerd564​ , @hobby27​ , @maui137 , @lovealways-j​ , @polina-93​ ,@drakelover78, @dylanlover24 , @magssteenkamp​ , @superweirdnerdalertt​ , @doctorlilo​, @deans-baby-momma

[lycorsa]

The Hunter | Mercy | *Revised*

Pairing: Mercy x Reader

Notes: This is a rewrite of something I wrote in 2019. I see requests in my inbox and brain apparently goes silent. Anyhow, I wanted to bring back witch Mercy and might start posting some other fandoms because OW is kinda dry for me rn, ngl. Lemme just get my gold border and die pls and ty. Also I've kind of made use of a flashback so the bold will kinda tell you where the hell you are, ya know

I swear all I write is angst. Every fic on my ao3 has either angst or hurt/no comfort tagged. We're doing great 👁👄👁👍

And uhh word count of like 1.3k but I'm on mobile so no read more option for us apparently. Tumblr just likes to bully me

Breathe. The air that fills your lungs is cruel in every way; sinister even. It's heavy against your chest and leaves something cold that you opt to ignore.

Relax. You push the air out in calculated breaths as to not draw attention to yourself. Hold. Your lungs burn against the practiced technique, but you don't dare move.

Aim. Target in sight, their back turned unsuspecting–none the wiser. You could end this now. Her terrifying reign could end with a single bolt. Just pull the release and it would be over. Get your payment and leave.

Finger on the release, your body stills. Through the fog, your eyes only see her. Not her creations lurking in the shadows nor the tethers ready to bind you should you act. You see the way her hair shown under the moonlight untucked from her hat. How her whole body relaxs under the same light–unaware.

Gods be damned, why couldn't you just do it.

The answer was simple, truly. Try as you might, you were charmed by the witch.

***

Some time prior...

"Away with you, witch." Your words are noncommittal, slurred even. Body heaving with every step, the moon is your only guide as heavy boots trudge through the forest floor. You stumble against branches and bramble but don't dare fall.

For if you fall, you're sure you'll never will yourself to stand again.

She is the figure at the edge of your vision. The one who watches in silence, seething with vague interest. First, you figure her for a madwoman from the nearby village. Alone in the middle of the night with no tools against the evil beings of the forest.

Then the realization hits.

"I am simply observing, Hunter," the words are like honey. Rolling off the tongue in waves as she approaches. You're in no right mind to fight. Not after your little dance with death earlier that night, "There's no harm in observing those who trample my lands, is there?"

You swallow. There's no point in answering. Not when a woman who could kill you with the snap of a finger stands before you.

"Quiet one, aren't you, Hunter?" She purrs, one hand moving to assess the damage done to your neck, little care as she tilts your head to the side with some force. Her thumb grazes over the bloodied mark left by the vampire countess.

You wince, the action beyond yourself, earning a smile from the woman. And so she does it again and again, pleased as you writhe and squirm under her grip, "I quite like the silent ones."

As if on command, a shadowy cask of armor made its presence known. The blue flames ignited by the fog only seem to drive further until you're sure you see eyes. They flicker from you to the woman in conceded admission before grabbing you roughly by your armpits, tearing you away from the witch.

"Now, Fareeha. That's no way to treat our newest guest." She whispers something under her breath and your world is plunged into darkness.

***

When you come to, you can't be sure of the day. Hell, you're not even sure you're alive until you hear your heart thrumming loudly in your ears. It's mind-numbing. The rapid pace can't be healthy. For a moment, you fear it will stop entirely until a new worry works itself into your mind.

Wildly, you grasp at your neck and the all too familiar sensation of bandages wrapped firmly around the wound. Alive. You're alive and someone cared enough about your wellbeing to at least bandage the wound.

Immediately, you scan the room for any signs of life. It's a wide room, a communal room even. Shelves stocked with ancient books dot the room between them, various oddities–ingredients, plants, and clutter–lay between.

"Awake now, Hunter?"

Your head swivels to meet the voice. That same voice. Her damned voice. The witch.

Opposite her previous attire, she dawns a light cloak that leaves little to imagination. You don't dare break eye contact with her: you'll never hear the end of it if you do, you're sure.

"Hunter," she descends much faster than you can make sense of, one hand prodding the bandage, while the other drags across your jawline. Her face hovers inches away from you and you don't dare move. The witch's charm is intoxicating.

She says something that you can't quite make out. You only nod. The gesture could've gone unnoticed had she not been paying attention. Spoiler: she was. The witch catches your disinterest, hand moving from your wound to the curve below your lips.

"Hunter, you're not all there now," she states observantly, a hint of humor to her voice as she tilts your head upward to meet hers, "The Countess has a rather warm effect on those she feeds on."

Warm?

"She shall be most delighted when I inform her of the longevity of these effects, I'm sure."

"As for now..." The witch retracts her hands and eyes something–someone with confirmation, "you'll rest and when you wake again, we'll consider our options moving forward."

"Sleep well, Hunter."

***

Present-day...

Everything–every little noise–rings louder than the last in your ears. Every breath is thunder against the silence. You're sure it bellows throughout the forest where every soul; living and dead listens.

Pull the release, get it over with. The words cross your mind more times than you care to count. But you can't do it.

You won't do it.

Not to her.

The village inhabitants were out of their minds to believe you of all people could do this. That you would turn on her. Or perhaps that was why they did. Sever the weakest link. Kill two birds with one stone.

"Angela," the words tumble from your mouth before you can stop yourself. No going back now. You lower the crossbow to your side until you carefully lay it against the cobbled ground, "I... They're going to..."

Speaking is lost on you when you meet knowing eyes with guilt, "I can't keep this ruse up much longer."

It was far easier to say that than the alternative. Admit your failure. That Angela would die for your misgivings.

"You haven't failed me before, Hunter," she muses. There's no sign of fear on her expression. She should be angry, livid with you. She should do anything but smile now.

Oh, her perfect smile.

"You have a beautiful soul," there's no malice to her words, "One worth keeping."

A joke, you realize. She's joking now of all times.

"Angela, this isn't a joking matter," you say sternly. It's not a tone you take often. Only when unsavory individuals encroach on the forest, "They want to kill you."

"The townspeople?" She doesn't wait for a response, approaching you until she's only a stone's throw away, "Yes. I know. They have for years. Cowards, all of them."

"Gods, they wanted me to kill you but I couldn't." Chanting in the distance raises numerous alarms in your head. You can see the wavering glow of torches through the treetline, "They'll finish the job if I don't."

"And will you do it?" Angela closed the remaining distance with a few steps until the two of you were only separated by height, "Will you finish the job?"

You're thankful that suit of armor is out of sight. It'd probably just about fall apart if it heard you talking about killing the witch.

"No." 

There's a churning inside your chest and you can't help but loath it, "You need to leave. With Fareeha and never come back."

You read her face for any betrayal of emotion. Nothing. She breathes, drinking in the moment for all she can, "This was my home once. Wooded as it can be, it was a home. And those monsters wish nothing more than to drive me away from it."

"And it's your home too. Even when I'm away it will always be your home."

Angela takes your hands into her own and lifts them to her lips. There's a silent recognition in her eyes–a sad one. You can see it in the way she's unable to meet your eyes, "We'll meet again, Hunter. In life and in death, you serve me."

Then she was gone. And with her, she took your soul.

[fandomscombine]

Period Cravings

BG: Periods can be a pain. Food cravings are usually the easiest to handle. But with Hogwarts under curfew and not willing risk it all for the blood quill what could you do? Looks like someone had go above and beyond to help.

A/N: Why did I decide to write something about food in the middle of the night, it’s like I wanted to make myself crave on purpose!

This is an entry to @blisfvll ‘s 1.5 celebration writing challenge! With the following prompts:

14. “I swear to God I’ll punch you.” “You can’t even reach my shoulder.”

15. “I don’t know if I wanna kill you or kiss you.”

WC:1223.

>>MASTERLIST<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

You don’t normally get period cramps you are very thankful for, but of course when it does come, it hurts like hell. Luckily Madam Pomfrey has a supply of menstrual pain-relieving potions available for those in need. Which you had taken after dinner. Although now sitting in front the common room fire, you had another problem. Cravings. Which magic unlikely could not fix. Oh what you would do for a plate of a hot chocolate lava cake topped with cold vanilla ice cream!  A glance to the clock- 9:55 pm- had killed whatever small hope of getting that sweet treat from the kitchens. It was almost curfew.

The last of the students were arriving back, deflated like always after Umbridge had become High Inquisitor and held Hogwarts with an iron grip.

‘If you keep making that face y/n, your brows are gonna be permanently sewn together.’ Fred remarked.

Which only made you scowled further.

‘Sorry Sorry!’ Fred raised his arms in surrender. ‘I bet you would still look cute even when your face ultimately stays mad.’

Did he just called you cute?- Well no exactly but also could he be? You thought but before your brain could process if his teasing had something behind it, your body reacted first. Next thing you know, you had hit his arm.

‘Ouch woman! You hit hard!’

‘Well these chaser arms do pay off even outside of quidditch.’ You knew Fred only tried to cheer you up. He always does, when he sees you down or anyone for that matter and would crack jokes to brighten the day.

Placing your hand on his arm as to lessen the pain you begin, ‘I’m sorry. You were just trying to make me feel better and I released all this crap onto you.’

‘Heyyy heyy it’s okay.’ Fred said, pulling you for an embrace, ‘Take it out on me all you want, I can take it. Anything for you.’

Breaking away he continues, ‘What’s got you bitter anyway?’ Genuine concern in his eyes.

You looked away. ‘Ahh it’s so stupid- It’s nothing really.’

‘I am Fred fucking Weasley, I do stupid things all the time. Try me.’

‘I want a hot plate of lava cake with ice cream.’

‘Say what now?’ Fred stated, a bit confused.

‘I would die for some lava cake and ice cream right now.’ You stated with a deadpanned face.

‘This craving is driving me insane!’ You explained. ‘Normally I would just sneak out to the kitchens but now with the threat of getting my hand scarred with the blood quill, it is a no go. No way am I risking that just for a period craving. I wouldn’t even wish the blood quill to a bully.’

‘yeah yeh….’ Fred mumbled, lost in his own thought.

Waving a hand in front of his face ‘Freddie are you even lis—’

Fred abruptly stood up. ‘I—I got to go y/n. I forgot something in the—’ Running out of the common room, the rest of his sentence cut off by the closing of the door.

~

An hour later, right before you were getting ready for bed. Your roommate had come in giggling, ‘Y/n! Good you’re still up. Fred is downstairs waiting for you by the way.’

Waiting for me? What could this boy be up to now??

But you nod anyway. ‘Thanks y/f/n. I’ll be right down.’ You put on your fluffy slippers and make your way down to the common room.

You first caught sight of Fred pacing, making your way closer to the communal study tables you then saw it. ‘WHAT THE-‘you exclaimed.

‘Surprise!’ Fred said with handing presenting the table full of desserts- Chocolate frogs, cauldron cakes, hot butterbeer and the showstopper plate of a hot chocolate lava cake topped with cold vanilla ice cream!  

‘As you can see, I have also added a couple more stuff, which I noticed Ginny and Mum eat during you know the time of the month, been told that those help ease the pain and cravings. And Ohh! I also have these…’ Fred handed you more stuff from the chair. ‘Heating pads and a couple of potions from Madam Pomfrey- though she was a bit annoyed and worried that I asked her for them so close to curfew…and’ His cheeks blushed. ‘after all that she calmed down cause she said that I was being the most caring boyfriend and knew that we would make a great couple…’ Fred chuckled nervously.  

Seeing that you haven’t said anything, yet he continued hoping to salvage anything after that boyfriend/girlfriend comment, ‘apparently quite a number of teachers are shipping us together, some even have bets!’ He tried to sound nonchalant but failed. ‘Can you believe?’

Alternating from him, the food on the table and the heating pad and potions in your hand. You brain is going a hundred miles an hour.

On one hand, this is just wow, never had you felt so taken cared of before- and securely this surpasses best friend territory, right? Fred had gone above and beyond. This was some boyfriend material stuff right here. But what if you’re just overthinking and reading too between the lines y/n? What if you just want to see what you want to see.  But your thoughts keep going back to the boyfriend quality worry, the going above and beyond.  And he did mention that relationship comment right? He didn’t seem to take offence at the idea….

On the other hand, your own worry had taken over. What he had done for you was so risky, he could have been caught. If he had he would have suffered and have scars on his hand, all because of you and you could live with that. How could he be so reckless? – Wait why are you even still saying this to yourself…

You broke off your internal monologue. ‘WHAT THE FUCK FRED?!??? YES FREDDIE THIS IS ALL SO SWEET AND I REALLY DO APPRECIATE IT BUT WHAT IF YOU HAD BEEN CAUGHT?? YOU WOULD HAVE SUFFERED AND BE PUNISHED BY THE BLOOD QUILL!! HOW COULD YOU BE SO RECKLESS?!?’ Your anger from worry had slowed now, you looked up to him with soft eyes. ‘You did this all for me. If something bad had happen to you, it would because of me, and I don’t think I could live with that Freddie.’

Fred had always been able to see through you, and to see you so anxious for his safety warms his heart. He tucks the hair that had fallen out during you rant. ‘But you see love, I wasn’t caught. Reckless- Yes. But caught? Nope. Maybe I should try that again….to test my skills.’ He teased.

You glared at him. ‘You. Will. Not. Or else, I swear to God I’ll punch you.’

‘You can’t even reach my shoulder.’ Fred resorted. ‘You know… you are so cute when you’re frustrated.’

‘Ughh!’ Rolling your eyes. ‘I don’t know if I wanna kill you or kiss you.’

‘Rather kiss me more, I hope.’ He smirked. Then got serious., he held your waist. ‘But I wanna do it properly and take you out on a date first.’

You brought your hands up to the nape of his neck and started to play with his hair. ‘Well then let’s us consider this as our first date!’

---

Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1​

(omg I just noticed that tumblr tagged a different account 😳that have a similar username, just a letter off😳 this is why sometimes I don't trust tumblr's automatic tagging system! @blisfvll my bad😅)

[tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar]

Pass the Time

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader.

Summary: You feel like you spend more time outside of you dorm and so does your neighbor. Why? Both of your roommates are hooking up.

Word Count: 1,548.

Note: It took me longer than it should've to write this since Tumblr was keep messing up so please don't let this flop ( I reached my breaking point with trying but I still like it) and tell me what you think :) I hope you love it! Thank you @snkkat for posting the photo and inspiring me to write this!

Hey," your roommate, Jazmyn, speaks softly from her side of the dorm to see if you are still awake or not. You hum in response, not looking away from the episode of your newest favorite Netflix original TV show- the reason why you are not studying right now- Outer Banks. Jazmyn moves to sit upright on her bunk bed and swings her feet back and forth and gives you puppy eyes, "Can I ask for a favor?"

Knowing what she will ask, for not the first nor late time, you say, "I'm not moving, Jaz."

She jumps off and walks over to you and must go on her tippy toes to learn against your mattress. It is a fail on her part when she tries to grab your throw blanket off of you since you're wrapped in it.

You sing, "told y'all" in a teasing tone and Jaz response is a weak, "shut up."

"Why can't you just go over? I'm comfortable right here in my dorm."

Ignoring your point of view, she easily lies as she says, "I swear it won't be long."

"Really? Two nights ago, Andrew said the same thing to Drew before you went over there for three fucking hours!" Before she can try to deny it, you hold up your hand to add, "I actually mean fucking for three hours."

You roll your eyes as she blushes and gets lost in dream land that is made of all the sex, she and your next-door dorm neighbor, Andrew, have.

Which is a lot.

You knew that going to a University there would be a huge chance to live crazy college stories that one day will blow your kids' minds whenever they accidentally find one out. Getting locked out of your dorm on a weekly basis so your roommate can hookup? That is not one of them, it is annoying as hell.

The first time you got locked out was just last month, three months in your freshman year. After taking two tests in one day, you just wanted to go in a nap coma for the rest of the year. Since the elevator in your building did not get fixed yet, you had to drag yourself up to the firth floor. You could not help to wish the sock on your dorm knob was just a part of your imagination. But it was not. From the noises you could hear from the other side of the locked door, Jazmyn had someone over. You jumped and cursed when the door next to you opened and an extremely attractive and tired boy smiled at you as he tried to fix his bed hair. He noticed the sock and grabbed it to throw it over his shoulder, inside of his dorm. "I was wondering where Andrew went." He holds out his hand and as you shake hands, he told you his name and you told him yours. You agreed that you did need coffee, so you two left the hallway to grab some.

“You know, it’s weird that we are finally meeting.”

You looked over your shoulder and silently wished Jazmyn would open the door so could lay down, “We’ll probably see each other more in the hallway if they keep this up.”

A week after you talked with Drew over two refills of coffee for who knows how many hours, he saw you walking up the stairs after your last class of the day. He kicked himself off the floor to learn against your door.

"Are they...?"

He nodded in response and told you that he does not know how long, or how much longer. He followed you into your dorm after you slightly pushed him away to unlock it.

"I was planning on doing something with Jaz tonight but since you're here instead... have you ever done a face mask?"

He wiggled his eyebrows and used a husky manly tone to ask, “Sexually?"

His laugh echoed after you throw one of your pillows at him.

The third time was a couple of hours later and Drew agreed to go as far away as possible. You two went through a drive through before going to a park to eat in comfortable silence until he tried to be sneaky to grab some of your food. A small food happened before you two acted like big children on the swings, trying to see who could go up the highest. Since he is so tall, it was easy for him to do the monkey bars.

Now what was supposed to be a relaxing and do-nothing day, you let out a fake cough. “You can’t let Andrew come in here, I’m sick.”

“I’m sure Drew would be willing to take care of you.”

“I hate you.” You mutter as you get up to put your shoes on. You try not to think about how he told you he wants to make you his famous homemade chicken casserole soon since you’re been stressed with all of your school work, working part time and being home sick.

“You love me! Have fun whenever you guys do this time to pass the time.” She winks at you as you slam the door closed behind you. You stop knocking on Drew’s door with your blanket still wrapped around you and carrying your laptop when his voice comes the end of the hall, “fancy seeing you here.”

He knows your smile is half fake so he nervously asks, "You can come over if you want? I can let you in before heading to the showers."

 Andrew comes from the end of the hall, looking like he ran up the stairs while holding a plastic bag from the nearest gas station. You can see Jazmyn’s favorite candy and a box of condoms. Classy. You do not think twice before reaching into Drews maroon gym shorts to grab his keys while they have silent conversation. You miss how much his eyes widen for leaving them both in the hallway.

“I swear to God I’ll give up on being your wingman and move out if you do not make your move.”

Drew pushes Andrew out of the doorway and glances over at you to make sure you are not listening. “You are not my wingman!”

“Yes, I am! I am giving you two alone time as I have sex! It’s a win-win for everyone!” Andrew pushes him inside, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

From his bed, Drew hears the confusing in your voice when you say, “it’s only one am?”

“I stopped listening to what he says a long time ago.” Drew states as he can hear Andrew’s and his own voice in head saying, “she’s on your bed” repeating.

You mutter, “same” for trying to do the same thing with Jazmyn.

Over the trim of your laptop, you watch Drew stand in front of you and starts taking off his gray and black long sleeve hoodie in slow motion.

"Oh my god."

"What?" He asks, amused.

"What?" You ask, embarrassed.

“Take a picture, it would last longer.” He teases, sitting next to you. You shove your elbow in his ribcage, “Shut up!”

You should not be surprised when he teases, “make me.” But your skin gets covered with goosebumps.

“Okay, last time we hangout it was two, three nights ago?” You try to change the topic, “I just remember that I beat your ass at Family Feud. Wanna play that again?"

Drew lets out a breathless, “no” as he puts both of his arms around you, his hands resting against the wall. “Let’s play a new game.”

He grins ear to ear when he feels you take a big breath in, the air faming the side of his face. “Let’s see who can the be the loudest, them or us.”

You look at him like he grew a second head when he starts hitting the wall and making grunt noises.

“You want to make it seem like we are having fake sex?”

He laughs, mostly to himself, “It’s not like you are taking me out of my misery and-“

You cut him off by pulling his hands off the wall to put them on both sides of your waist as you to help you saddle his lap. As you trace the outline of his abs, you cannot help to lick the rest the way up until he puts one of his hands under your chin to pull your face upwards to his. Both of you do not know who kisses who first.

When you need to catch a breath, you mutter, “what?” since his smile makes you smile too. “I want to take you on a date and stop using our roommate sex lives as an excuse to hangout.”

“Okay.” You feel like you are on cloud nine when his smile becomes even bigger. “When?”

“We got time to figure that out. For now…” He gives you a quick kiss before setting you to lay on the bed so he can get up.

You watch him grab a sock before opening the door wide enough to put it on the doorknob. “I want to keep on doing what you started.”

He runs his way back to his bed to tackle you while you have your arms wide open.

─────

Tagging the people who reblogged or comment on the post about which college AU to write first:

@ilovejjmaybank @softstarkey @pixelated-pogues @everydayimfangirling @maaybanks @scandalousfemale @thelocalpogue @sunnypogue @sortagaysortahigh @tembo-ndoto @arthiriticcricket @jjsbxtch @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @rudysrings @ptersparkers @obx-saltlife @ssjiara @drewsephsmiles @obbx-tings @jjmaybanksbaby @jjaybank @mahleeyuh @jjcultmain @tcmhollnd @teamnick 

The college AU for Rudy will hopefully be posted tomorrow!

[dangermousie]

Heelo mousie! Love your blog! Do you mind recommending some of your favourite Chinese BL novels or shows?

I've seen the untamed and read it. I'm currently reading heaven's official blessing and I saw the donghua. Anything other than these two?

Awww, thank you!

Novels: I am gonna be lazy and literally copy/paste the entire danmei section of my top 10 web novels post (except MXTX’s stuff since you are already reading it.) Let me know if you need help finding any of these.

Lord Seventh - I am only partway through this so far, but it’s already on the list because it’s smart and somehow intense AND laid-back (not sure how this works, but it does) and is honestly just a really really solid and smart period novel, with the OTP a cherry on top of a narrative sundae. Plus, I love the concept of MC deciding he is not going for his supposedly fated love - he’s tried for six lifetimes, always with disaster, and he’s just plain done and tired. When he opens his life in his seventh reincarnation and sees the person he would have given up the world for, he genuinely feels nothing at all. (Spoiler - his OTP is actually a barbarian shaman this time around, thank you Lord!)

Golden Stage - my perfect comfort novel. Probably the least angsty of any danmei novel on this list (which still means plenty angsty :P) It also has a dedicated, smart OTP that is an OTP for the bulk of the book - I think you will notice that in most of the novels in this list, I go for “OTP against the world” trope - I can’t stand love triangles and the same. Anyway, Fu Shen, is a famous general whose fame is making the emperor   antsy. When he gets injured and can’t walk any more, the emperor gladly recalls him and marries him off to his most faithful court lackey, the head of sort of secret police, Yan Xiaohan. The emperor intends it both  as a check on the general and a general spite move since the two men   always clash in court whenever they meet. But not all is at is seems. They used to be  friends a long time ago, had a falling out, and one of the loveliest  parts of the novel is them finding their way to each other, but there is  also finding the middle path between their two very different  philosophies and ways of being, not to mention solving a conspiracy or  dozen, and putting a new dynasty on the throne, among other things. It always makes me think, a little, of “if Mei Changsu x Jingyan were canon.”

Sha Po Lang - if you like a lot of fantasy politics and world-building and steampunk with your novels, this one is for you. This one is VERY plot-heavy with smart, dedicated characters and a deconstruction of many traditional virtues - our protagonist Chang Geng, a long-lost son of the Emperor, is someone who wants to modernize the country but also take down the current emperor his brother for progress’ sake and the person he’s in love with is the general who saved him when he was a kid who is nominally his foster father. Anyway, the romance is mainly a garnish in this one, not even a big side dish, but the relationship between two smart, dedicated, deadly individuals with very different concepts of duty is fascinating long before it turns romantic. And if you like angst, while overall it’s not as angsty as e.g., Meatbun stuff, Chang Geng’s childhood is the stuff of nightmares and probably freaks me out more than anything else in any novel on this list, 2ha included.

To Rule In a Turbulent World (LSWW) - gay Minglan. No seriously. This is how I think of it. it’s a slice of life period novel with fascinating characters and  setting that happens to have a gay OTP, not a romance in a period  setting per se and I always prefer stories where the romance is not the only thing that is going on. It’s meticulously written and smart and deals with  character development and somehow makes daily minutia fascinating. Our   protagonist, You Miao, is the son of a fabulously wealthy merchant,   sent to the capital to make connections and study. As the story starts, he sees his friend’s  servants beating someone to death, feels bad, and buys him because, as  we discover gradually and organically, You Miao may be wealthy and  occasionally immature but he is a genuinely good person. The person he buys is a barbarian from beyond the wall, named   Li Zhifeng. It’s touch and go if the man will survive but eventually he does and You Miao, who by then has to return home, gives him his papers  and lets him go. However, LZF decides to stick with You Miao instead, both  out of sense of debt for YM saving his life and because he genuinely  likes him (and yet, there is no instalove on either of their parts, their bodies have fun a lot quicker than their souls.) Anyway, the two  take up farming, get involved in  the imperial exams and it’s the life of prosperity and peace, until an invasion happens and things go rapidly to hell. This is so nuanced, so smart (smart people in this actually ARE!) and has secondary characters who are just as complex as the mains (for example, I ended up adoring YM’s friend, the one who starts the plot by almost beating LZF to death for no reason) because the novel never forgets that few people are all villain. There is a lovely character arc or two - watching YM grow up and LZF thaw - there is the fact that You Miao is a unicorn in web novels being laid back and calm. This whole thing is a masterpiece.

Stains of Filth (Yuwu) - want the emotional hit of 2ha but want to read something half its length? Well, the author of 2ha is here to eviscerate you in a shorter amount of time. This has the beautiful world-building, plot twists that all make sense and, at the center of it all, an intense and all-consuming and gloriously painful relationship between two generals - one aristocratic loner Mo Xi, and the other gregarious former slave general Gu Mang. Once they were best friends and lovers, but when the novel starts, Gu Mang has long turned traitor and went to serve the enemy kingdom and has now been returned and Mo Xi, who now commands the remnants of his slave army, has to cope with the fact that he has never been able to get over the man who stabbed him through the heart. Literally. This novel has a gorgeously looping structure, with flashbacks interwoven into present storyline. There is so much love and longing and sacrifice in this that I am tearing up a bit just thinking of it. If you don’t love Mo Xi and Gu Mang, separately and together, by the end of it, you have no soul.

The Dumb Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha/erha) - if you’ve been following my tumblr for more than a hot second, you know my obsession with this novel. Honestly, even if I were to make a list of my top 10 novels of any kind, not just webnovels, this would be on the list. It has everything I want - a complicated, intricate plot with an insane amount of plot twists, all of which are both unexpected and make total sense, a rich and large cast of characters, a truly epic OTP that makes me bawl, emotional intensity that sometimes maxes even me out and so much character nuance and growth. Also, Moran is my favorite web novel character ever, hands down.

Anyway, the plot (or at least the way it first appears) is that the evil emperor of the cultivation world, Taxian Jun, kills himself at 32 and wakes up in the body of his 16 year old self, birth name Moran. Excited to get a redo, Moran wants to save his supposed true love Shimei, whose death the last go-around pushed him towards evil. He also wants to avoid entanglement with Chu Wanning, his shizun and sworn enemy in past life. And that’s all you are best off knowing, trust me. The only hint I am going to give is oooh boy the mother of all unreliable narrators has arrived!

The novel starts light and funny on boil the frog principle - if someone told me I would be full bawling multiple times with this novel, I’d have thought they were insane, but i swear my eyes hurt by the end of it. I started out being amused and/or disliking the mains and by the end I would die for either of them.

The Wife is First - OK, this one did not make my top 10 web novels but it’s a sweet, fun gay cottagecore fest. Our ML, a royal prince, and his spouse, a smart if delicate aristocrat, keep house, eat noodles, play with their pet tiger, make out and spoil each other rotten, while occasionally fighting battles and outwitting their court enemies. It’s so very mellow. That couple redefines low drama - they are both nice and functional and use their brains. It’s as if a nice jock and a nice nerd got together and then proceeded to be wholesome all over the place.

I mean, the set up could be dramatic - our ML the prince, lost his fight for the throne and is about to be killed. The only person who stayed loyal to him is his arranged husband the aristocrat guy who ML never treated nicely since he resented marrying him (marrying a man in that world is done to remove someone from the ability to inherit the throne.) And yet the husband stood by him not out of love but beliefs in loyalty blah blah. Anyway, he transmigrates back into the past right after their wedding night and is all “I got a second chance OMG! I don’t want the throne what is even the point? I want to live a good long life and treat the only person who stood by me really well!” And he proceeds to do so to the shock of the aristocrat who had a very unpleasant wedding night and generally can tell the man he just married would rather eat nails than be married to him. But soon enough (no seriously, it’s not many chapters at all) he believes the prince is sincere blah blah and then  they get together and they pretty much become cottagecore goals.

In terms of dramas, I only do period dramas (or novels) so I am not the person to be able to recommend any modern BLs. There is a flood of upcoming (hopefully) period BL dramas but it’s relatively thin on the ground now. The two I will recommend is Word of Honor (which is AMAZING) and Winter Begonia (which I just started watching but which owns me already.) I have a tag for both - the one for the former is huge and I cannot recommend either strongly enough. I’ve heard good things about The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty, but I am not big on mysteries so haven’t watched it for myself.

In terms of the upcoming BLs, the ones I am most looking forward to are Immortality and Winner Is King, but The Society of the Four Leaves also looks promising.

[marvelslut16]

What were you thinking?

Prompt number: 14 “You better leave now.”

Fandom: Marvel

Paring: Sam Wilson x reader

Rating: T

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Swearing. A man that can’t take no. Dumbasses who are oblivious to each others affections. A terrible Hawkeye pun. Reader called a slut. 

A/N: This is day 10 of fictober, it was my moms birthday so I spent it with her and not on tumblr. But when I logged into tumblr this morning I saw that this fic didn’t post at it’s scheduled time, so here it is a day late. First time writing Sam so I’m sorry if it sucks. 

Tony’s endless galas could be fun, you had an excuse to dress up instead of being stuck in your Avengers gear, and it always includes a free bar. The downside is the hoards of drunken men that hit on you that can’t seem to take no for an answer. And tonight is no exception, dressed in a black dress with a slit up your right leg, men can’t seem to stay away from you. 

You sigh as Nat hands you a refill, she had snuck behind the bar moments earlier to make yours and her drinks extra strong. Both of you going through relationship woes, more like non-existent relationship woes. Her eyes never seem to leave Clint for long, he’s standing on the balcony above the ballroom watching the guests like a hawk, his job never seeming to be done. When Nat does look away you catch his longing gaze on her. The two dumbasses can’t see the love they have for each other buried under their years of friendship. 

Your eyes trail from Clint back onto the main floor only stopping when they land on Sam’s back, he’s standing next to your favorite couple Steve and Bucky. Nat gives you a sympathetic look while you just roll your eyes at the three women hanging onto Sam’s every word, and two more clinging to his arms. At least Clint only has eyes for Nat and she doesn’t have to watch the man she loves be flirted with constantly. 

You were with Steve when he met Sam back in DC, and you were immediately enraptured with his sarcasm and dry sense of humor. Steve was always your closest friend on the team, but that quickly changed when you befriended Sam and you became inseparable. For a few months, about two years ago,  you were convinced Sam had feelings for you. Everyone around you said he was being obvious; always spending days off with you, nights at bars after a rough mission attached to your side, volunteering to go on missions with you when you needed a partner, and demanding he go as backup when you had a different partner. You let your hopes get the better of you and you let the walls around your heart fall for him.

But you built them back stronger, thicker, and taller than before when he invited a woman he met at a bar one night to be his date to a gala. Prior to that you were each other's dates, always matching his tie color to match your dress, but suddenly that stopped with no warning or no specific event to blame for his change of heart. So for the past two years you had each either gone stag or with your flavors of the month. 

You lean back on the bar, trying to stop from seeing red as the woman draped on his left arm leans up and nibbles on his earlobe. You catch both Steve and Bucky sending you looks of pity, if you weren’t trained to be so observant you wouldn’t have caught them, that’s how fast they are. A tall handsome man leans on the bar next to you, arm draped on the bartop behind your back, his front facing your right side. 

You look at him through your eyelashes; he’s taller than Sam, at least six and a half feet, his skin not as rich and chocolatey in color, and his eyes didn’t hold that same look that sparked a fire in your soul and core. But he’d do for the night. You send Nat a quick wink before turning your attention to the mysterious man on your right, focusing your attention solely on him. 

“You wanna dance gorgeous?” the Cheshire grin that splits across his face is momentarily off putting, you can already tell that this man has never been told no in his life.

“You bet,” you grin and agree anyway. What’s the harm in a little fun anyway? 

Once on the dance floor he pulls you in tight, chest to chest. Your slightly tipsy and hazy mind ignores the warning sounds being fired off in your brain. Instead you dance with him, letting his body lead yours in the slow song. Throughout the song the man, whom you still don’t know the name of, his hand slowly slips closer and closer to the curve of your ass. The next song is a bit faster so you start to pull away like the rest of the couples on the dancefloor, instead of letting you go the man’s large hands grab you by the ass and press you up against him again. 

Your eyes widen as your eyes frantically search for one of your friends: your eyes go to the balcony but it’s Clint free, he’s talking with Nat at the bar; Tony and Pepper are in a quiet corner saying goodnight to Morgan, who’s being watched by Happy and May; you finally find Bucky and Steve standing just off the dance floor, both sets of eyes locked on something behind you. 

Before you can turn around and see what's causing Bucky to smirk and Steve to have a knowing grin, the hands are being ripped off of your ass and you're pulled into a firm, familiar, chest. You relax slightly as Sam wraps you in his arms and holds you securely to him. 

“What the fuck?” the man you had been dancing with swears a little too loudly, eyes from surrounding party goers are now on the situation. Their murmurs alert more and more people to the possible fight brewing in front of them between an Avenger and some millionaire over another Avenger. 

“I think you best leave,” Sam grits his teeth, arms squeezing you a little tighter. The man lets out a sound halfway between a scoff and a laugh, rolling his eyes at Sam. 

“Do you even know who I am?” the man tries to intimidate Sam by staring him down. 

“No, and quite frankly, I don’t care,” Sam moves you from his chest to where he’s standing in front of you slightly, but keeping an arm around your waist. “You made (Y/N) uncomfortable, so all I know is that you better leave now.” 

“Well if she wasn’t dressed like such a slut-” Sam’s arm unwraps from you, he’s forming a fist and getting ready to take a swing. 

“Oh how original,” you roll your eyes from behind Sam, moving to stand beside him. “Let me guess, it took you all night to come up with that excuse just in case someone tried to turn you down?” Sam steps in front of you again as the man goes to lunge at you. You giggle and roll your eyes again, is he really dumb enough to try and pick a fight with multiple Avengers. “Did I strike a little nerve there? Was I too on the nose for you?”

By now Tony’s called security and the man is being forcefully removed from the gala, Sam’s hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you out a door in the other direction. He leads you through multiple winding hallways and away from the prying ears of gala guests. Sam only stops when he feels you’ve put a substantial distance between you and the party, having taken too many different turns for anyone to follow. 

“What were you thinking?” Sam asks, you can hear as he fights with himself to keep his voice level. 

“What was I thinking? What were you thinking? You almost got yourself into a fist fight Samuel!” 

“What were you thinking dancing with him?” he sneers. 

“I wanted to dance, he asked, therefore we started dancing!” you glare at Sam. 

“You could have gotten hurt!” he sounds exasperated. 

“Says the one that almost got into a physical fight with him,” you roll your eyes at Sam, arms coming up to shove him lightly at your next statement. “I can take care of myself Samuel, I don’t need you to save me.”

“You think I don't know that?” he grabs both of your wrists as you go to shove him again. “You’re strong, capable, and can kick just about anyone's ass. Hell, you took down the tinman in training the other day. It’s one of the things I love about you, but dammit I want you to need me as much as I need you!”

“What did you just say?” you latch your hands onto his wrists since his hands are still holding your wrists. Your heart swells at his slight confession, an overpowering feeling of love washes over you as your walls crumble down. 

“I love you (Y/N). And I need you,” he lets go of your wrists to wrap your arms around your waist, you rest your hands on his biceps. “I pushed you away when I realized how much you meant to me, when I realized I couldn’t function right when I wasn’t by your side every day. So I pushed you away and into the arms of countless men I was scared would sweep you off your feet.”

“You’re an idiot,” you laugh lightly.

“That’s what Barnes tells me every day,” Sam looks down at you sadly, and you realize you haven’t said it back. 

“I love you too, you winged idiot,” Sam cuts off your giggle with his lips, finally kissing you with those plump lips for the first time. “You’ve already swept me off my feet, both figuratively and literally.”

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​ @mrs-malfoy-always​

[archive-of-the-guild]

 Character Bio and rules are below the line

You can call me Shadow. i’m a 28yo male that hasn’t rped in years. Last time i did was i think 3 maybe 4 years ago so i am plenty rusty. I know this doesn’t say a lot about me but if there’s anything you’d like to know, just ask.

About Karisa

Name: Karisa

Race: Tiefling: A Humanoid people descended from humans who made pacts or crossbred with demons.

Age: 18

Height: 6'3"

Hair color: black

Occupation: Golemancer, Adventurer, occasional Blacksmith

Appearance: As a tiefling, Karisa has several traits that distinguishes her from Humans. She has Lavender colored skin, ice blue eyes, two horns, pointed ears, and a 4 foot long tail.

Personality: When it comes to enemies, Karisa can be downright ruthless. if she hates them bad enough, she will leave an enemy broken but alive to let them try again. She swears a LOT around everyone no matter who they are with the exception of children and has a habit of making enemies through her mannerisms. She’s bad enough with her words that there have been jokes made about weaponizing her lexicon and isn’t afraid to cuss out friends! BUT if you can take her words with a grain of salt and actually befriend her, then no matter what she says to you, she will protect you with her life. In her words, “You may be a cunt, but you’re MY cunt. And no one FUCKS with my cunt!”

Background:

Karisa was born on a small farm and raised by her parents until she reached the age of 8 when they passed away. Since then she would delve into golemancy as a way to cope, keeping her hands busy and moving foreword as best as she can. This is around the time she found the large crystal that would become Grom’s core. At the age of 10, she made her way to the city with her golem Grom, who was wood at the time, to try and become an adventurer. There she met the Dwarf Bormi who gave her a place to stay and taught her in the ways of the blacksmith.

Modern Verse (Hazbin Verse rewrite):

Karisa is Tiefling who was born into an organization known as The Adventurer’s Guild. The purpose of this organization is to deal with supernatural threats to society as a whole by hunting down creatures, artifacts, books, and other things that could pose a danger. If it can’t be recruited, it is to be either destroyed or relocated. People of course know about them but there is a general distrust of the organization due to their habit of employing non-humans and the Guild’s use of magic.

When it comes to the forces of Heaven and Hell, the Guild was able to get their hands on a blueprint for portal technology. The portal they have doesn’t always work and sometimes accesses realms other than Heaven or Hell. This can have a tendency to get adventurers stuck in realms outside of earth.

Skills-

Golemancy: Throughout her life, Karisa has made a variety of golems. These golems can me made from just about any solid material if given enough time. Golems made from metal, stone, wood, and even flesh are within her area of expertise. Her favorite golem is an 8 foot tall minotaur automaton she named Grom.

Cooking: Karisa LOVES to cook. She’s always experimenting with different dishes and creating a few of her own.

Basic Martial Arts: Since she turned 13, Karisa has trained with a quarterstaff and dagger so that if her golems failed, she could still take care of herself.

Magic: In addition to Golemancy, she has a small arsenal of spells at her disposal.

Fire Spells: All Tieflings are capable of fire magic. Fireball, Burning Hands, and Firewall to name a few. Using fire helps her a lot if she has to weld parts together on a golem.

Lightning Spells: Karisa can perform rudimentary lightning spells but this mostly equates to coating her hand in electricity to use. The strength of this can range from the power of a normal stun gun to enough power to jumpstart a city’s electrical grid.

3D Movement: This is a form of wind magic that allows her to “kick” the air. by doing this, Karisa can give off the impression that she is flying. This does not mean she stays in the air, only that she can move in it. she usually only uses this to get over walls or cliffs or maybe to get into a tree.

Empathy Link: This is something she originally learned in order to better deal with golems in order to find out what their orders are. it can be used on other creatures and objects to get a kind of idea of either how they are feeling or how they are used. She MUST make contact with the palm of her hand for this to work.

Golem Creation: As a golemancer, Karisa carries a number of golem cores on her at all times. These cores can often be infused into whatever matter she chooses to create a quick golem in the field. These golems aren’t as effective as one she has time to prepare but they get the job done. Golem cores are also extremely volatile! Damaging a core will cause any magic in it to go haywire and explode in relation to the core’s size. This makes golems and their cores effective bombs if she needs to!

Golem Override: This is a skill that allows Karisa to manually control her golems and see through their eyes. HOWEVER this is only a last resort because it leaves her immobile and defenseless. 

Please send Karisa questions and asks either from yourself or your characters! i will fill this out as i go!

Rules

1: i am all for fight scenes and such but please do not god-mod. meaning do not assume what happens to my character. (EX: “My character fires a gun and hits your character in the shoulder.” or “Your character tried to dodge but my character cuts off their arm before they can.”) In my responses, i’ve taken to rolling a dice to determine whether or not my character gets hit and how badly she gets hit. I do not mind my character dying in a particular thread so long as it is discussed at length beforehand and is necessary for the development of the plot. communication is key for stuff like this.

2: Don’t send hate. I don’t mind criticizing because it helps me reflect on how i’m doing. Hate is just a dick move though.

3: I reserve the right to choose whether or not i rp or answer an ask. There will be times that i don’t have the inspiration or motivation to continue it or there is not enough for me to go on. An example of this would be if i responded to an rp and the response i get back is “Character ducks.” or something as equally short.

4: I don’t mind reminders but i DO mind spamming. I will mostly be rping either on the weekends or some afternoons when i can get up the motivation. DO NOT spam me reminders every day or every other day. I have a 5 month old son and a job that has me working monday to thursday with the occasional friday up to 12 hours a day. Those come first.

5: You will see a lot of stuff on here that i will do my best to tag from gore to n//s//f//w// threads. If there is anything in particular you would like me to tag when it shows up, please let me know! Anything truly spicy will placed uner a read more and tagged as “Read at your own Risk!::NSFPC” (nsfpc stands for not safe for public consumption.

6: While i accept starters, memes, questions and comments through asks, starters and starter memes WILL be turned into a post to start a thread. I will not rp through constant asks because this can lead to more dash clutter than the post will. That being said, i will trim the post before it gets too long and will try to have any appropriate tags on it.

7: THERE WILL BE LOTS AND LOTS OF SWEARING! Enough that i will not be tagging it because it is everywhere! I will not tone down her swearing except around child muses because this is part of her character and i ask that you please understand.

8: When it comes to shipping, Karisa will make things fairly clear on whether or not she wants to be with your character. I love shipping but i also know that not everyone will ship their characters with Karisa and that's perfectly fine! Karisa WILL flirt and get touchy with people she's interested in but if the mun or character they are controlling doesn't want that, TELL HER! Not me. HER. Have your character reject her advances, tell her "no" or even smack the shit out of her if she gets too handsy! I will not be upset and i will completely understand! A lot of people plan ships out and tell others there has to be chemistry, but as I'm thinking about it, im going to be removing that little section from my rules. Why? Because failed ships have the potential to create drama, angst, and even enemies if done properly! If she comes onto a character and it makes you uncomfortable or you're just not interested, EXPRESS IT THROUGH YOUR CHARACTER! The same will apply to her! The only time i will have any sort of problem is if she says no, gets into a fight, and you try to godmod it to your liking or try to guilt ME about it. My character makes up her own mind about how to do things just like yours.

I may add more rules as time goes on but it’s pretty straightforward. Don’t be afraid to come and talk to me! I’m pretty open about things and i would love to see you around! Come and join me on discord for more Mun stuff! Just make sure you edit your name to match your tumblr url so i know who you are please! https://discord.gg/6ftZuSP8XH 

[anarchist-billy]

Thigh Fucking, you say? pt.1

At the suggestion of @tracy7307, I’ve put together what I’m sure is not a comprehensive list of fics that feature the highly underrated sex act otherwise referred to as Intercrural.

There’s actually a lot more out there than I expected, so to keep this post from getting excessively long, I’m splitting it into 2 parts.

This first has all of the fics I found under 5k words. Part 2 includes anything above that.

Bottom Steve/Billy connotes whose thighs are being fucked.

dazed and confused by viktorcreed

1.2k - Bottom Steve

Led Zeplin plays softly in the background and Steve hums along absently, his eyes are closed and he looks relaxed and happy. It's fucking annoying is what it is. Billy takes a long slow drag from his cigarette and glares at Steve not that the other could see. They've been doing this kinda shit lately, hanging out after and just listening to music because Steve's parents are never home so there's no rush. They don't talk about anything or even really acknowledge each other, it's nice.

You Know What You're Doing To Me by BeautyInChains

1.5k - Bottom Steve

"Thought you might need a hand," Billy says, voice rough like gravel. "A hand," Steve repeats dumbly as Billy takes a step closer, eyes still fixed on Steve's reflection which is beginning to flush under the attention. "With the beer," Billy clarifies, except for the fact that it doesn't clarify a damn thing; not with the way Billy is looking at him, stepping toward him.

Adult Video Arcade Goodness by BillysHardgrove

2k - Bottom Steve

How about the combo of an adult video arcade and glory holes?

Tumblr prompt that got long enough to be a posted on here

All I Need From You (is all your love) by shocked_into_shame

3.6k - Bottom Billy

Steve and Billy keep trying, far too many times, to have some time alone together. And, God love him, Billy's dog is a bit of a cockblock.

(5 times Steve and Billy try to fuck and fail, and the 1 time they succeed.)

Those American Thighs by tracy7307

1.6k - Bottom Billy

He placed his hands on the tops of Billy’s golden thighs -- spread his fingers apart and rubbed from his knees up, up, until his fingertips dipped under the legs of Billy’s shorts. The hair rasped under his hands. His thighs were still a bit slick from that suntan oil that Billy loved to use and from the sweat of working outdoors on a summer day.

Cream and Red Lace by capainwingdings

1.2k - Bottom Billy

Billy has a special surprise for Steve.

Leave all your stains with me by Confettibites

1.6k - Bottom Billy

Steve has a thing for Billy's thighs.

Lay Your Hands on Me by tracy7307

1.4k - Bottom Steve

It wasn’t as if Billy had never seen Steve’s chest hair before - almost the shape of an hourglass, the base of which stretched between his nipples - he’d seen it every time they showered in gym before they graduated. But this time the urge to touch it was immediate and overwhelming.

For a long time he tried to find the right moment to draw Steve towards him. Tommy shouted that Billy was just being a fucking ball hog, but really, he was just trying. Trying to pull Steve’s defence from conversation to close talk. Then maybe he would be able to jostle back against that chest. Maybe he could touch the skin of his shoulder back against Steve’s hair - feel it rub against his skin.

You've Got Style by red_crate

3.2k - Bottom Steve

“Go ahead,” Steve sneers, “C’mon, tell me about how good it was.”

What the fuck, Billy thinks as he looks down at the tense line of Steve’s back. He backs off a little. When he loosens his grip on Steve’s wrist, the other boy wrenches it free and braces against the hood of the car. He pushes his ass back, rubs it against the front of Billy’s hips.

He asks, “How’d you fuck her? C’mon, tell me. You already started.” Steve’s voice is dark, dangerous, and Billy doesn’t know what to think. Steve plants his elbows on the hood and his back curves with the change. He looks over his shoulder. “Finish.”

Billy changes tactics.

In his flirty voice, he asks, “You wanna hear about it?” Billy repositions the hand in Steve’s hair so he’s gripping the back of his neck. “Does it make you hot?”

Steve pushes into the hold. He hums. “Maybe. But I’m not the only one.” Then he grinds back against Billy again. “Am, I Billy?”

burnt out from the joy ride by Highsmith (quimtessence)

1.5k - Bottom Steve

Steve and Billy go to parties. Everything else is inevitable.

(Written for HarringrovePornathon Day 4! Only a tad late.)

And In The Light of Day by sarahstarkiller

3.6k - Bottom Billy

“Speaking of idiots… when can I see you again?” “You’re seeing me right now, aren’t you?”

Short Skirt, Shorter Temper by wingedbears

3.6k - Bottom Billy

Steve Harrington is absolutely not attracted to Billy Hargrove.

It’s just a fact. He’s not.

Sure, Billy is objectively pretty, with his long, dark eyelashes, his weirdly full and pink mouth, and insanely thick thighs. Objectively.

There's One Bed, Baby by XxmerthurcatxX

4k - Bottom Steve

When Max suggested that Billy and Steve carpool back to Hawkins from California, Steve didn't know what to expect. He definitely hadn't expected the two of them to wind up sharing a bed for the night.

Egg You On by mrharringtons

1.8k - Bottom Billy

“Piss off!” he yells, but it comes out a sad whine.

The knob turns and the door swings wide. Steve has to step back to avoid being hit.

He sighs, because it’s just his luck. “Tonight’s really my fucking night, isn’t it?”

Billy Hargrove sweeps blue eyes over him, head to toe. He closes the door behind him.

 “What the hell happened to you?”

Massage by mrharringtons

2.7k - Bottom Billy

Steve gives Billy a massage after practice. -

“This feel that good, huh?”

 Billy swears. “H-Harrington. Get the hell off me.”

You Get Too Close by trashcangimmick

2.2k - Bottom Steve

Steve sits at the back of the bus on the way to a basketball match in Gary. Billy Hargrove sits right across from him.

(i will try to tag authors later. i don’t know everyone’s tumblr handles, and tumblr gives me a lot of grief when i try to tag people anyway, which i’m too tired to deal with rn, so i apologize)

[wordynerdygurl]

Skin Deep - Part 3

Author’s Note:  The story continues!  I appreciate everyone’s patience as I got this third piece of our tale completed.  I hope the wait will be worth for all of you! As always, please re-blog, share, comment and so on!  I’m accepting tags, so let me know if you want to be a Minx! I am also getting ready to celebrate a milestone here on Tumblr, so stay tuned for details!! I wanted to take a moment and send some specific love to two of my followers who, just by doing what great fan-fiction readers should, made my little life complete.  First, @iluvsumbucky​ ... this one, she read every chapter of “The Testing Kind” over 5 days and left the most meaningful, heartfelt reviews.  I can’t tell you how much it meant to me to see those comments and know that you loved my story as much as I loved writing it. Which brings us to @iamverity​ ... perhaps the single most thing a writer can hope for is someone to tell you that their work makes you feel.  I was paid this compliment and swear to strive for that in all my output going forward. Also, always, much thanks to @sammy-jo1977​ who had to listent o me whine while this one came together. Skin Deep Part 1 Skin Deep Part 2 Pairing:  Loki x Reader, Steve x Reader, Natasha and Bucky are around Summary:  Picking up where part 2 ended, Loki’s back... What will Steve do to keep you as his own?  How far will you go to find the truth? Warnings:  Angry, yelling, darker Steve.  Mentions of smut, property destruction, confrontations galore.

“PET!”  Watching you crumble, Loki was a blur of manic motion, moving with speed spurned by fear.  Knees scraping the antique rug, those long fingered hands cupped your head, keeping it from hitting the floor as Loki managed to catch you just in time. Malice, so foreign on his tongue, dripped from Steve as he rushed forward, “She’s not your pet, Loki.  Not anymore.” Crouched over you, protecting you in your delicate state, Loki stared down America's Man with a Plan.  Long hair swinging wildly, “Well, she’s certainly not your doll, Captain.”  Jostling for position, pushing close to you, Steve elbowed Loki harshly, “Like Hell!” With a flash, fully armored, Loki stood with you draped limply in his arms.  “Out of the way, Avenger.  You don’t want to fight me, not right now.”

Moving, keeping Steve in his sights, Loki stepped backwards, making his way toward the open door.  Steve, stomping forward slowly, intending to close the distance and eager to have you back in his arms, “Let me have the girl, Loki.” Growling a warning, Loki snarled, “Absolutely not.” “Loki, just walk away.  Leave her, just like you did before.”

“Captain-”  A sharp shock rocked through Loki’s back forcing his body to lock up.  Almost frozen from the burning heat blasting through him, his arms grew heavy, beyond his control.  There was no scream, only the perfectly round “O” of his mouth as the pain clamped onto each of his muscles.  Unable to support you any longer, Loki felt himself tipping forward, Steve stealing you to safety and out of his grasp.  Loki’s world went black as his arms were emptied of your weight. Gently, sweetly, your passed out figure is laid on your soft bed.  Straightening, Steve tucked the blanket under your arms, “Thanks for the assist.” “Sorry I’m late.” 

“Still, thank you.”  Natasha holstered her weapon, a strong taser with tech from Tony modified to take down an Asgardian, and cuffed the wrists of unconscious Loki.  “Think you can help me get him out of here?  Steve?”  “Hmm?  Oh, yea.  Sure.”  Distracted, Steve was looking down at you, grazing a hand over your cheek, tucking hair behind your ear.  It looked loving and tender to Natasha. “She’ll be fine, Rogers.  It won’t take us long to-” “He was me.”  

Softly spoken, Natasha barely heard the words, her head bent towards the alien god at her feet.  But something about his tone had her chin lifting.  “What do you mean, Steve?” “Shape shifted.  Glamoured.  However he did it...  Loki looked like me, sounded like me, was… me.” Natasha had an idea of where this was headed.  Bed sheets were rumpled, you were in a robe, your hair askew.  The unmistakable smell of sex filled the space.  Almost unrecognizable, Steve’s voice echoed a hurt that she had never heard before.  Not when he’d woken up, a man out of time and out of friends.  Not when Bucky was found, brain washed but alive.  No, this Steve sounded broken.  Wounded.  And wasting precious time. 

“Steve, let’s talk about this later.  Help me move Loki.  Fury will be here to collect him tomorrow at first light.” “She loves him, Nat.  Even as me.  She and Loki… they just…”  Looking back at you, tracing the swollen curve of your hard kissed lips, “They are perfect for each other.” “What are you saying, Rogers?” His sigh was a heavy, cumbersome thing.  “I’m saying… Let's get Loki secure.”

----

Fluttering open, you took in the lengthening shadows across the ceiling of the room you and Steve called your own.  The room where Steve had coaxed you away from your physical dependence on Loki’s love.  The room where Loki, appearing as Steve, forced you to reacquaint yourself with his addicting abilities.  Hearing Steve’s even tread on the stairs, you sat up just as he cleared the door.  Meeting Steve’s concerned gaze with your own, a gentle smile playing on his full lips, “Hey doll!  Welcome back!” 

Crossing to your side, long strides bringing him near, Steve lowered himself onto the bed.  Taking you in, Steve clasped one of your hands in his own, his fingers locking on yours.  Soothing, smoothing the damp hair off your cheek, “You fainted.” Your mouth was dry.  Unable to trust your rusty throat, nodding, you acknowledged his statement.  Fainting wasn’t something you did, but under the circumstances, you gave your strained mind a break.  With a cracking whisper you asked, “Loki?”  Steve’s look clouded at the name, as if he’d swallowed something disgusting, “He’s gone.”

Struggling, your loose robe falling open, a shrill tone that you didn’t recognize coming out of you, “Gone?  Loki just left?” Steve won’t look at you.  Maybe he can’t, but that doesn’t stop his words from sounding so strange.  You ask again, not understanding, “Loki’s gone?” With that, Steve focuses solely on your tear filled eyes, not the reddened skin of your clavicle or the indigo fingerprints rising on the surface of your breast.  Pulling your robe over you, covering the marks of passion on your shoulder for your sake, Steve shrugged, “Yes.”

Shaking Steve off, hands waving him away, “But that doesn’t make sense.” Scooting back, surveying you darkly, “It doesn’t?” “No.  I mean-”  Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, a guilty look on your face at the appearance of purple on your inner thigh, “Why would he show up… and do what he did?” This type of behavior wasn’t like him.  This wasn’t Loki’s style.  He calculated, maneuvered, contemplated.  Risk over reward, pros and cons.  

No, he had come back with a plan.  Loki had come back for you.  As he’d promised you years ago, Loki was back and you had betrayed him.  You had betrayed him by falling into Steve’s bed.  You had let Loki down.  Would he be able to forgive you?  Could you forgive yourself? Fingers laying over your own, Steve squeezed them tight, misunderstanding the tears in your eyes.  “I’m sorry he hurt you, doll.  I should have been here sooner.” “He didn’t hurt me, Steve.  I mean, not physically…”, jerking your hand free, standing on wobbly legs, your sadness flashed into anger.  As you paced the room, Steve was forced to keep calm, even as he wanted to explode.  The marks of Loki’s love making were still fresh and just knowing that someone else had put them on your body made Steve’s pulse pound.  What’s more, you didn’t seem to care that you looked like a well used harlot, parading around, shoving Loki’s prowess down his throat.  With a raised tone, unfamiliar to you, Steve groaned in frustration, “Doll, look what Loki did to you!  He took advantage!”

That made you pause.  Did Loki cross a line?  Yes.  Coming to you as Steve, taking you to bed, making you feel all those delicious, dirty things… Things that Steve would never consider doing.  Things Steve wouldn’t be capable of doing, not to you, his perfect doll.  You should have known something was different about your stand-in Captain.  But, hadn’t it been a perfect combination of the two men?  Remembering it made your head swim, “I don’t know why Loki did this.  I don’t know why Loki… wasn’t himself.” “He’s not the only one.” scoffed Steve.

“What the hell does that mean?” Sighing heavily, resigning himself to the unspoken resentment he felt, “Nothing… I… Nothing.  Forget about it.  Let’s focus on tonight, ok?” Moody and on edge, you didn’t want to let it go, “Oh no.  You said it.  I want to know what you meant.”  Your hands found your hips, arms out like chicken wings, the air around you snapping with unchecked energy.

“Doll, let’s not.  Not right now.” “No.  Let’s hear it.  You clearly have something to say.  Say it.  Use your words, Steve.”  It was a phrase Steve loved to use on you when he felt like his sexual endeavors deserved more praise.  Now, you used it to goad him. "You let him-" Steve looked anywhere but at you, the memory of your body tight against his own, as a spectator, not participant made him bristle, “-have his way with you.”

Opening and closing your mouth, unable to find the words, shaking in your own unchecked fury and frustration.  "I thought it was you!"

"Did you really?", gravel filled and low, Steve’s anger simmered just under the surface of his perfect pout.  

You had a flashback, Steve stalking towards you, an almost predatory look on his handsome face.  He called you “pet”, pulled you to him with hungry hands, touched you in more than three places.  What you thought was, No, no I didn’t really think it was you.  But what you said was, "Y...yes.  Why?" 

"You've never been like that with me… so loose, so playful.  Loki could have asked you for anything.  Anything and you'd have done it."

It was a stinging truth, it’s acid filled tentacles wrapping around your heart, squeezing tightly because you definitely would have done anything that fake Steve had wanted.  Real Steve was right about that.  Dragging in a deep breath, almost afraid to ask, but needing to know, "How long were you watching, Steve?"

"Long enough.”

Searching his brooding eyes, you looked for the familiar light of the sensitive Steve you’d so recently grown to enjoy.  He was nowhere to be found.  Adding a pleading note to your voice, almost contrite, "It was you as far as I was concerned.  He tricked me, ya know?"

"You weren't complaining, in fact, it was the exact opposite.”  Rage snapped in Steve’s frosty glare as he finally lost the iron grip of his emotions, “You came for him!  Twice!" Matching his volume, “I came for you!” Mocking you, your breathless words of passion, “I won’t break Steve!  Please, Steve!  Don’t Stop!” “Steve!  Not Loki!  Steve!!  You said it yourself!” On his feet now, crowding you closer to the wall, his voice continued to rise. “You knew it wasn’t me.  Don’t lie!  You knew.  And… and you fucked him anyway!  Ah!”  Spinning, Steve yelled as his fist went through the door of your armoire, wood splinters and paint flying every which way. Ducking, you jumped out of the way, shouting too, "Jesus, Steve!  What are you doing?!” But Steve was on you in a heartbeat, using his super size to his advantage, “When did you know?  When did you know it was him?  When did you realize you weren’t fucking me?”

And there was the real issue, the thought hitting you like a freight train.  Cold, pea green, you touched my toy, jealousy.  

“Steve…”, his grip on your upper arms was vice tight, the vibration of his furious frenzy frizzling your confidence.  Your voice sounded so small, but it somehow reached through his envious green fog, “Stop, baby… please?” Deflating before you, Steve’s chest rose and fell as his breath evened out,  “Answer me.  Did you know it was Loki?” Catching your bottom lip between your teeth you nodded, whispering, lying, “No… I really believed it was you.” And that was the right answer, because Steve pulled you to him then, his mouth no longer spouting spite.  “Doll… I love you.  Seeing you with… anyone else, I just couldn’t…”  You heard him trail off, his grasp of you tighter than needed, but you didn’t dare move.  “I know honey.  I know.”  Feeling him press a kiss to your temple, Steve’s lips moved over your cheek before capturing your mouth with his.  You let him kiss you, kissing him back, eager to end the hostilities without any more destruction.  Placated, Steve’s chin rested on your head, “People are still coming over tonight.  It’s too late to cancel.  Will you be up for that?” Easy now, sweetly you responded, “Everything is pretty much done.  You just have to start the grill, babe.”  Laughing low, “Ok.  I’m going to get cleaned up and head out there.” Stepping out of his arms, looking up at him demurely, “Sounds good.”  Somehow you even managed a smile, normal and light, as if the afternoon hadn’t been filled with shrieks and shouts. Hugging you snuggly once more, Steve reached the door before turning back to you, “You need to shower.  You smell like him.  And, doll?” Frozen in place, you risked a glance at Steve, “Yes?” “Please keep yourself covered up.  You’ve got bruises everywhere.” Once Steve was gone, your resolve eroded completely.  Loki had disappeared again, Steve had lost his damn mind, and you had the nagging suspicion that everything was wrong.  Under the surface of all of these events, these wild happenings, was a connection that you couldn’t see.  Tears fell, hot and hard, scalding your cheeks. Over your sniffling you heard Steve’s steps on the stairs, thumping him towards the back yard.  Pushing yourself up off the floor, you saw the super soldier making his way to the shed, the little storage area seated between the house and the tree line.  Swiveling his head, checking for onlookers, Steve entered the security code, your first date, and stepped inside. Now, it wasn’t weird that Steve went to shed, per se.  It was his, on his property, and full of his stuff.  What made it weird was the glowing green light that flashed quickly through the windows after he was inside. Keeping vigil over that little shed for more than twenty minutes, eager to see Steve step out of that small space, your mind races.  What was going on in there?  What could he possibly be doing that would take so much time? Again, the windows glowed green and suddenly Steve was outside, shutting the door soundly.  He looked towards you, to the window you were gawking out of, but the sheer curtain hid you.  Satisfied, Steve moved to the patio, setting up the grill for his guests. Shivering through your shower, you quickly cleaned up, your hands running over the tender skin where Loki left reminders.  Steve wasn’t wrong.  You were covered from neck to knee with bruises and bites, stings and smacks. But how delicious it had been earning each and everyone of them.  

-----

He felt the familiar strain of shackles before opening his eyes.  Hands behind his back, some sort of water fed device from the feel of it, kept him from full use of his magic.  Loki knew then that Thor had provided inspiration for his current condition, even if it was unintentional.

Another set of cuffs.  Another version of prison.  Passing through his brain was a floating thought, What did I do this time?

Unable to dissect his predicament further, Loki heard the thumping steps of a visitor coming his way.  "Agent Romanoff… always a pleasure.  Are you the one responsible for my current-" shifting in his bonds, "-state?"

"You brought this on yourself, Loki."

Tilting his head, dark hair cascading downward, "Really?  And exactly how did I accomplish that?"

Natasha spread her feet, toeing the edge of Loki's cell, "I told you there was an easy way to do this.  Seems like you enjoy doing things the hard way."

Chuckling, if only she knew the truth of her words, "I do like it hard.  And rough.  And wild.  Just ask Rogers' woman.  Isn't that right, Captain?"

"Shut up, Loki."

"Why should I?  You have me here, trussed up like a stuck pig, bound and helpless.  What more can I do?"  His tone reflecting false innocence that neither agent believed, Loki smiled widely, seeming almost content in his confinement.

Steve ignored the rising ire Loki provoked.  Turning to Natasha, "Can you go and check on her?  She should be showering… getting dressed.  Make sure she…"  Now he glowered in Loki's direction, "Make sure she doesn't look like a whore."

Loki's answer was a raised eyebrow.

"You boys play nice until I get back.", her last words before retreating up the stairs, leaving Loki and Steve to stare at each other.

For a long moment neither spoke.  There was a lot to say, maybe too much, but both warriors were willing to wait the other out.  It was the equivalent of circling an opponent, only no one was moving, there was no parry, no thrust.

Loki, seemingly at ease, knew he could wait out the Super Soldier.  Roger’s approach was so utterly American, so typical of Midgard, Earthy.  No, it was clear that Steve didn't understand about patience.  Timing.  Not like Loki did anyway.

For his part, Steve was already battling a fierce fighter… himself.  When he told Nat that you and Loki had something special, something other, that wasn't a lie.  Steve would have to be blind or stupid not to realize the depth of feelings the two of you shared.

So the question circling his star spangled brain was this:  did loving you mean letting you go, even if that meant Loki won?  Or lying to keep you as Steve's own?

No answers came.  And that, the inability to settle his feelings once and for all, made Steve vibrate with uncontrollable anger.  Mad at himself for letting Loki get under his skin, under your skin, had Steve clenching his fists at his sides.

Furious at Fury for forcing him to use you, trading your broken heart for weapons technology, had Steve's toes tapping.  That he knew in his heart what he had to do, what the right thing was, even though Steve would lose everything… well that was the last straw.

As the electric bars Loki was kept behind fell, the deity couldn't help taunting, "Interrogation time, is it?"

Steve's answer was more feral grunt than words.  Loki followed him with his gaze until Steve crossed behind his broad back and out of sight, “You really think you love her.”  

"No."  

Loki's single syllable stalled Steve.  Had he heard the fallen God right?  Was it this easy to win you away from Loki?  Steve faced his captive, forcing Loki to look up at him, practically sneering, "No?"

“Love is too small a word.”

Shaking his head at the sweet sentiment, Steve's voice laced with unshed emotions, “I love her, Loki.”  Pounding on the skin over his heart, voice lifting with his bubbling anger, “Me.  I love her!"

Looking ahead, shrugging, Loki focused on the man before him, clearly in crisis.  Anyone else might empathize with the dear old Captain.  Not Loki.  What did Steve's feelings matter to a God like him?  

"Why couldn’t you just stay away?”  Questioning Loki, Steve wasn’t sure he wanted an answer, or, more precisely, wasn’t sure he could handle it.

Twisting now, coolly appraising your conflicted consort, Loki snorted, “You know why.  Why couldn’t you find your own girl, Captain?  What right do you have to take what is mine?”

“She’s not yours, Loki.  Not anymore.”  Bristling, Steve's words were steel, biting, brittle but it was a shallow shield.  Closing his eyes he saw it all play out again.  A loop of you, lusty eyes half closed, legs spread, lips parted as his body double brought you to paradise.  

As if he knew where Steve's mind had drifted, his half smirking smile rising, Loki cocked his head.  “Oh, I don't know about that.  She didn’t feel like yours when I had her cumming on my cock.”

Rocking on his heels as if he'd been struck, Steve challenged, “Do you have to be so crude?”

“Does that offend you?  I’m terribly sorry that my honesty is so odious.  Shall I lie to you instead?”

“I’m going to enjoy watching Fury dissect you.”  It was a threat, plain and simple.  Still, Loki wasn't convinced of its authenticity, no matter how much Rogers wanted him to cower.  

“Is that the plan then?  Cut me up, figure out ways to use me?”  Now, that was a troubling thought.  Torture was not something Loki enjoyed, having been on the receiving end of its hellish torments a time or two, and he had no plans to return to a testing chamber, thank you very much.

Nodding negative, Steve smiled back coldly, “There’s also all those Asgardian weapons, Loki.”

“Ah!  That sounds more like your Mr. Fury!  Drain my brain for technology that no one on the planet could hope to control.  Great idea.”

It was then, without real consideration, that Steve drove his fist into Loki's jaw knocking the once King of Asgard onto his side.  Loki, powerless to stop the sucker punch, had no choice but to accept the blow and allow momentum and gravity to do their best work.  His lip, exploding in a spray of blood, filled his mouth with warm copper, staining his leather doublet.

Spitting a wad of torn tissue and clotting red onto the cellar dust, "You son of a whore!  I thought we were doing so well!"

Steve, kneeling in the dirt, squeezed Loki's shoulder, pulling him upright.  Seeing the broken skin on his foe's face made him feel better.  Drawing back, Steve watched as Loki raised his chin, offering it up to the serum soaked soldier as a target.  Happily, Captain Rogers obliged him. Swinging his left arm, connecting with the sharp cut of Loki's right cheek, Steve felt the bone break under his hand.  Knuckles met nose as blood gushed over Loki's handsome face in a macabre cascade.  Still, Loki made no cry, offered no pleas.  Wordlessly he allowed Steve to pummel him, absorbing the blows of bitterness, stoking Steve's anger.

After a punishing pop that made Loki's ears ring, taunting, Steve offered, “I can do this all day.”

Wheezing through his broken nose, gurgling through the fountain that was one his face, “It takes a God, Rogers.  You’re still a skinny boy from Brooklyn compared to the cosmic forces at play here."

Pushing Loki flat to his back, towering over him, Rogers's own breath coming in pants of exertion.  "I could kill you.  For what you did today.  For what you've done."

"Is it your sense of misguided morality that stays your hand, Captain?"  Loki slurred through his split lip, one irritated eye swelling, as Steve flexed his rapidly healing fingers.

"No.  I told you, Nick wants you… alive."

"And you're always the good soldier aren't you?  Doing as you're told, no matter what you know is right?"

Turning his head away, Steve didn't want to see the consequences of his actions etched on Loki's face, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then let me go."

Slowly closing his eyes, Steve sighed, "Right.  Ya know, I'd have to be insane.  After what you did today?"  

"I came back for my lady."

Another flare of furious feeling flowed through Steve, instinct making him kick into Loki's ribs.  "She's not your lady!  God damn it!"

Curling into the new wave of pain inflicted on his person, “Oof!  Do what you want to me, Captain, you and Fury won't be the first.  Just-"  Loki, hiccuping softly as a lone tear tracked over his mottled skin, "-just, please.  Don’t hurt her.  It’s not her fault.”

Cold blood, coursing through his veins, pounded in Steve's ears at the idea that he might harm you.  “I would never!  I could never!  She thinks you’re already gone.  Left her behind like before.  And I’ll pick up the pieces... again."

Turning to leave, Steve's final blow, the most crushing, "She’ll never even know you’re down here, Loki.”

---

Digging through your shattered chest, towel clutched around you, desperately you searched for something to wear that hid as much of you as possible.  There was no sense in upsetting Steve further.  You weren’t entirely sure what he might do, not anymore. Mind whirling a mile a minute, your head was at war, silently cursing Loki and Steve equally for their behavior throughout the day.  Who was the more infuriating?  Right now you couldn’t decide between Loki’s cruel but carnal return, and Steve’s super soldier psychosis.

"Hey lady!"  

Snapping your head up with a shriek, "Damn it, Nat! You scared the shit out of me!"

Laughing lightly, stepping into the messy room, Natasha kept her eyes on you.  "Everything ok?  You seem… tense?"

Feeling your lower lip wobble, "Oh?  Do I seem that way?  And no.  Nothing's ok." 

"Tell me.  What happened?"

Flopping down to the bed, a dress clutched in your hand, you turned your filling eyes to your best friend.  Gulping quickly you started retelling the events of the last couple of hours.  Loki’s disguised return and almost immediate departure.  Steve’s over sized, out of character outburst, and the visible wreckage it had left behind.

Natasha let you prattle, bobbing her head and offering "No!" and "Oh my god!" and "What?" at the appropriate moments in your story.  Where the hell was Fury?  It was dangerous keeping Loki so close to you, didn't he realize that?  There was no telling what lengths he would go to in his quest to reclaim you.

When you had finished, finally reaching the moment she had found you, she was a million miles away.  "Natasha?  Earth to Nat?" 

Blinking herself back into the moment, "I'm just speechless.  Like, wow."

“I know, Right?”  Expecting some sort of response or advice, you scanned your friend’s face but something felt off.  Natasha’s eyes kept drifting toward the window, keeping the shed in sight, waiting for something.

And suddenly a thought popped into your head.  Something you didn’t want to ask, something you were afraid to answer.  Steve’s shindig was still an hour away from beginning, everyone was supposed to come up from the city together.  So, why was she already here? Feeling you shift away from her, just an inch or two of distance on the bedspread, Natash knew you were putting pieces together.  It was something she had seen before.  The moment a captive subject realized she wasn’t the good cop or the bad cop.  

“I’m going to need my sandals.  I think they’re in the room across the hall.  Hang here a minute, ok?”  Sounding bright and breezy, you went to stand, stopping with Natasha’s forceful tug on your wrist. “No.” “No? Come on, Nat…”  Pulling free of her grip, well trying to, your false smile slipping as you took a step backwards. Shaking her head, the woman who was your best friend swung you back towards the mattress, “Put on your dress.  Do your makeup. Finish getting yourself ready.” You were meeting the Black Widow for the first time.  Calculating, poisonous and cold.  Shivering at Natasha’s icy tone,  “Are you asking me or telling me?” Cocking her head, sending her blunt bob swinging, the look she gave you was answer enough.  “You’re going to sit here until Steve comes to get you.”

“Can you… will you at least give me the room?”  Natasha gave you a half nod before exiting, shutting the door behind her.  Waiting to hear her footsteps, a sign that she had drifted downstairs, you were disappointed to learn she was standing guard.  Of course it wouldn’t look that way to anyone but you.  No, to everyone else it would seem like your bestie was waiting for you to finish up, eager to get the party started. Pacing to the window, looking down like a princess trapped in a tower, you saw Steve chatting with Bucky the unsurprising first to arrive.  Your gaze kept drifting to that shed, more than certain that it contained the answers you needed, and that somehow, someway, you had to get into that space.  But first you had to get dressed.  

Drawing panties up your legs, you started getting yourself put together.  Next came the matching bra, the cups covering the fingerprints Loki left behind.  Shrugging into your maxi length wrap dress, the emerald green one with a sash belt that felt like a soft tee shirt, you at least felt pretty even if your heart was heavy. Willing yourself not to cry, you swiped eye shadow over your lids just like you’ve done countless times before.  Mascara, a pop of red lipstick, but no blush.  You didn’t need it.   

As you push your earring into place the door creaks open.  Steve, looking sheepish, rests a hip against your dresser watching you do all the little things that complete your look for the night.  He’s smiling sweetly, adoringly, in a way that’s meant to prove that he’s ready to put the day’s events behind you both. “You look… beautiful, doll.” “Thank you.”  Keeping it simple, you don’t let your stare linger on him, instead you sink down to buckle your strappy sandals in place.  Kneeling down at your feet, Steve lifts the second shoe, Prince Charming style.  And if today hadn’t been today, you might have felt moved by his gesture.  Now, more than ever, if solidified the idea that you were a kept thing, the princess, locked in a castle tower to be hidden away from the rest of the world. 

Only Steve wasn’t your prince.  He was the Lord of the Manner, to be obeyed in all things, keeping you behind closed doors.  Natasha, she was his enforcer, the knight guarding his treasure.  Oh, how you wanted to be rescued. Mortified and hurt, feeling trapped like a pent up tiger in a cage, you turn towards the door, "Where do you think you're going?" At Steve’s words you pause.  Worry must show on your face because he leans into you, brushing a kiss across your temple, wrapping your hand in his.  “You can’t go anywhere without me.” And it’s meant to reassure you.  That’s what Steve’s body language wants to convey.  Protector, defender, keeping you safe and secure.  On the landing you’re flanked by Natasha, pinned between them both, as you make your way down to the small gathering of guests already sipping sangria under the pretty lights you put out.

Pepper is the first to grab you and for a beat Steve doesn’t let go of your fingers, instead pressing a possessive kiss to the back of your hand.  “Don’t you look beautiful!  Captain, you can’t keep her all to yourself, you know!”, gathering you to her in a tight hug is almost enough to make you cry.  It’s the love you had expected from your best friend but been denied. Warily, watchfully, Steve works the crowd.  He’s poured beers for the boys and slapped steaks on the grill.  Natasha is chatting with Clint, but you feel her eyes on you just the same.  No one else is aware of the scrutiny you’re under and you realize that you’re dealing with two super spies who are great at what they do for a living.  Getting to the shed unnoticed is going to be difficult, but you’re going to make it happen even if it kills you, and it just might. Soft music is playing, the air is honeysuckle scented and in some other dimension, tonight is perfect.  Still, you can’t keep your thoughts on the party.  You’re waiting for a chance to sneak away, even as you make small talk with Wanda, “Oh, thank you!  I’m glad you like them, it’s a family recipe.” “Doll?  Got a second?”  You’d hardly have thought that Bucky Barnes would be your salvation, and yet, it’s his soft voice that pulls you away from the group in a way that doesn’t arouse suspicion.  Setting down your own glass, you tilt your head to Bucky, flashing Steve a small smile.  He returns it with a little nod, giving you the go ahead before you follow Bucky into the kitchen.   Reaching into the cabinet, you grab two shot glasses and the bottle from the freezer, “I kept the good stuff for us!” Bucky, chuckling low, pours out two icy vodkas.  Clinking your glass to his, you tip the alcohol down your throat, enjoying the white hot burn as it hits your belly.  Holding your cup out, Bucky refills it, “You ok, doll?” “Yea?  Why?” Raising his dark eyebrows, “You’re quiet.” “So?”  Defensiveness laced your response.

“Um… that’s just not like you.  I thought that tonight you’d be… relaxed.” Twirling your recently emptied shot glass, purposefully not looking into the brilliant blue eyes in front of you, “I’ve just got a lot on my mind today.” “I can imagine.  Steve told me about… Loki.” “He did?  What did he say?” Another heavy pour, another downed shot, and Bucky answered, “That he had come to see you.  Riled you up.” “That’s it?”

Bucky, catching your gaze held it, “No.  He’s afraid of losing you.  He loves you so much, you know?” “Ha!”  It burst out of you, unrestrained, and once the uncomfortable bubble popped it couldn’t be stopped.  Laughing uncontrollably now, you clutched the counter, knees buckling as you tried to stifle the giggles.  Hearing Bucky join you, that chortle of his gaining strength as the vodka took hold, only kept your own laughter going. “Bucky!  I’m gonna pee my pants!  Oh god!”  

Keeping your knees locked, scuttling to the bathroom, you ducked inside.  You heard the Winter Soldier fix himself another drink and shut the freezer door, “Doll, I’ll see you outside!”

Letting yourself out the front door, you snuck around the side of the house, entering again through the wide gate.  From this side, the shed was easy to access, and just far enough away from the noise of the party to keep you hidden from view.  You were also trusting Bucky to report your need for the bathroom, buying you a few minutes of snooping time, before you’d need to be back under the watchful eyes of Steve. Punching in the security code, the lock clicking gently, you pushed into the small room where all the landscaping and hand tools lived.  Smelling of gasoline and mold, the place was neat, but dirty, built solely for storage.  You were ready to give up your searching when you noticed footprints in the dust.  

Not just Steve’s boots either.  No, there was Natasha’s feminine foot shape as well as the long tapered outline of a third person’s shoe.  But that didn’t add up.  Following the tracks around a small work table you noticed a rug, still kicked up at the corner, where the footprints stopped.  Now, you were no Nancy Drew, out there solving the case of the extra footsteps in the shed.  It just all was too perfect, the clues matching up too well to be an accident. Rolling up the carpet revealed a small latch that sprung free with little effort.  In the gloom below, glowing faintly, was the same green light you remembered from Steve’s visit here.  Something about that light was familiar to your person.  It called to you and after swallowing a small wave of fear you used the narrow ladder like steps to descend into the murky space below. You didn’t need a flashlight.  What was in front of you illuminated the whole cellar with ghastly green light.  Narrow columns of light stretched from floor to ceiling, crackling with power, keeping you away from the shadowed prisoner on the other side. Realization, hitting you like a brick, brought burning bile to your throat.  You recognized the figure on the floor in front you, even with his purpled face and swollen eye, “LOKI!” “Oh, hello pet.” Getting as close to the shimmering bars as you safely could, “Oh god, Loki!  What’s happened?  I thought you left?  Steve told me you left!” “You thought I left?  That’s ludicrous.  I just got back.”, voice still rasping, Loki surveyed you from his good eye.

“What’s happening here?  I… I just don’t understand.” Sighing deeply, Loki rolled his still visible eye, “Can you turn off these ridiculous bars?  I can’t use my magic with all this… interference.” Spying the control panel across the room, you studied it for a moment before entering a set of numbers.  It wasn’t difficult to crack Steve’s code.  This one was your birthday.  Instantly the laser grid dropped, giving you access to the battered man cuffed on the dirt floor.  Wasting no time, you flung yourself towards Loki, your arms circling his neck as you kissed his split lips.  Falling into the dirt beside him, you clung to Loki, squeezing him until he begged to be let go. “Pet!  Please!  The cuffs, if you can release them I can heal myself.” Looking at the fancy restraint holding Loki’s wrists tightly, you didn’t find a keyhole, but rather a complex latch mechanism.  Pulling your earring free, you used the post to push open the catch, a whirring sound rising as the metal and liquid let go.  Laughing, “That should not have worked.” “It was created by men who don’t take women into account.  Of course your female magic would best them, darling.”

Loki turned your face to his, cupping your cheek, “Oh gods, I missed you.” Scalding tears began to flow, “I’m so sorry Loki.  I knew you were coming back.  I knew it… and still…” “Hush.  Hush now.  You were purposely misled, pet.  Rogers, Romanoff, Fury.  I was communicating with them the entire time.  And for their own reasons they kept you in the dark.”  Rocking together in the dank gloom of the shed, you let Loki hold you which is exactly what he had wanted to do for years now.

---

“Buck?  Where’s our girl?”  Trying to keep his voice light, Steve was battling internally, feeling that familiar pulse of anger start to throb. “Bathroom.  Give her a minute, we were hitting the Goose pretty hard.” Natasha was already on the move, pushing through the screen door, stomping through the kitchen.  Finding the bathroom empty, like she knew she would, Nat stopped for a second.  Where would you go? Steve was already moving towards the shed, knowing, somehow that you’d find your way there eventually.  “Just going to grab more champagne!  Hang tight!  Bucky, don’t let that chicken burn!” Meeting Natasha at the door, the two Avengers wordlessly agreeing to a covert attack plan, Steve entering the pin code.  Soundless, they sweep the space, finding it empty.  Steve, stopping short at the edge of the carpet, the cellar door still open to the darkness below.    

Lifting his wide eyes to Natasha, “They’re gone.” 

~ Part Four Coming Soon~ My Like Minded Minxes:  @sammy-jo1977 @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @iamverity @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @wolfsmom1 @procrastinatinglikeabitch @mizfit2 @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @alexakeyloveloki @jessiejunebug @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @thenatalie