#i���m transfixed Tumblr posts

  • starshipsofstarlord
    20.07.2021 - 3 days ago

    𝑄𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝐹𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑏𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑅𝑜𝑜𝑚

    Summary: fucking in Steve’s bed was supposed to be quick and easy; it wasn’t.

    Pairing: Established Bucky Barnes x reader, Steve Rogers x reader

    Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, degradation, swearing, cream pie, cum eating, oral sex (m->f), exhibition kink, some non con so read at your own risk, implied smut

    Word Count: 1382

    Masterlist Link

    The bed felt different; it was softer, and hadn’t endured the same amount of abuse as your own mattress had. You were on your hands and knees, with your lover behind you, thrusting heavily into your cunt, as you juices sopped onto the duvet sheets, his lack of a condom making you significantly wetter, as you attempted to bounce back onto his cock.

    “Fuck doll, you’re such a dirty slut.” A squeal ripples through your throat as his flesh hand came down on your ass, your eyes rolling back slightly as you endured every sensation your body was undergoing. In attempts to mute your ravenous sounds, you bit your lip, which ended in another hand clapped onto your behind. “Who knew you were this much of a bad girl? Huh? Wanting to fuck on Stevie’s bed whilst he’s out on a mission.”

    Just the thought had your mouth salivating. Your hands twisted the sheets between your fingers, as you clenched around him, wanting to milk him for every thing that he was worth. “Daddy. Uh fuck.” He thrusted harder, hitting a deep spot within you which probed you to shove your face into the bedding, as he gripped your hips, increasing his pace inside of you.

    “You gonna cum baby? Are you gonna cum on daddy’s cock whilst we’re fucking on Steve’s bed?” Steve was not going to be happy, that was for sure.

    But you couldn’t find yourself to care, not in this moment. He deserved every ounce of disrespect that you could gift him considering that he had been prepared to leave you all behind when returning the stones. It was a miracle and a tragedy all at once that it didn’t pan out with the plan, but this was still your retrospect of revenge.

    “Shit.” Drool pooled out from your lips as he continued to pound you, he snuck his hand beneath your stomach and lower, finding purchase upon your clit with his tantalising fingers, rubbing the button and toying with it with physical contact.

    “Cum for me baby girl. Get ready for me to paint you from the inside out.” He heaved his breath above you, whispering it down the course of your naked back as his knuckles dug into your flesh. His eyes fluttered back as he allowed his lids to shut, closing out the scenery of Steve’s room as he fathomed in the sensation of your tight clenching walls.

    “Oh my fucking-“ you lost the remainder of your words as you felt your insides swivel and tip over the edge. A hitch in your throat created a smouldering squeak to be produced from your body, as you overdosed on the pleasure that your partner reaped upon you.

    A grizzly groan fell from Bucky’s chest as he endured the spurring grip of your painstakingly adrenaline rushing orgasm, and tumbled into his own, spilling into your cunt and filling you up as he steadies his chest against your back. “Holy shit doll face.” He laughed lightly, sweeping his palm across his sweaty forehead, remaining inside of you.

    All was well until he heard the door cock open, and a swear fall past the rightful intruder’s lips. “What the fuck guys?” Your eyes widened at the sound of Steve’s voice, shocked as you remained to lay beneath Bucky, and soak his sheets in your arousal.

    “You’re back early.” Bucky spoke, as he pulled out from you, giving Steve the peripheral of Bucky’s softened cock fleeing from your cum leaking cock. He smirked as he noticed Steve’s transfixed gaze. “You don’t seem to mad now Stevie. Now why would that be?”

    Steve cleared his throat as he tried to readjust himself. You went to move in a means of concealing yourself, but Bucky remained to hold you down, so that Steve’s perfect sight would not be ruined. “I um…” the blonde couldn’t quite get a grip on his words, there was conflict behind his sea blue eyes, as he continued to watch his best friend hold you down for his pupils to devour.

    It seemed, very vividly, that you wanted to detain your decency and conceal all from his prying eyes, but Bucky did not allow you to.

    “Bucky, let me go.” A strain riveted your voice as you begged your partner to release you, and you were shocked when he didn’t let up. This wasn’t just a joke as you thought that his crude mind may have supposed; it was an offer to a meal for man that had returned from his devoted mission.

    “Can’t do that sweet thing, let Stevie see how pretty you look all open and sloppy on his bed. This is what you get doll face, you were the one that suggested fucking here.”

    He remained naked as he secured your hands behind your back, tears harbouring in your eyes as you tried to see your Bucky through the menacing persona before you. He didn’t care for his state of undress, for he, and the other were more concerned with your own.

    You tried to thrust your head back, to contort your body away from his grip, but your efforts were no use, the super soldier was not going to let up. You could only hope that the other would. “Steve, do something please.”

    He watched as your feet kicked about on his mattress, he licked his lips as he made eye contact with Bucky, uncertain of what he was supposed to do. Bucky seemingly had decided for him. “Yeah Stevie, do something. I’m just spitballing ideas here, but you could always clean her up with that patriotic tongue of yours, because she’s sure being an ungrateful brat.

    Somewhere in his peripheral, Steve was trying to listen to you pleading for a rescue rather than a ravaging. But he was listening to Bucky more, and tears fell with no brute force as you felt the bed dip once more behind you from his weight kneeling upon the end of it.

    He was supposed to be your friend, and yet here you were, trapped because of your own sick desires that had contorted into something insatiably toxic. Steve’s large hands grasped your ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he leant his face close to the back shot of your heat, the warmth of his demeaning breath making your uncomfortably squirm in attempts of retaliation.

    His tongue slipped past the confines of his mouth, darting over the pool of your and Bucky’s combined juices that were escaping from your demolished slit. You continued to wriggle and thrash, that was until Bucky grasped your hair in the clasp of his metal hand, and jutted your entire head up. “Stay still, or I’ll call the fucking meeting that’s due in two hours in here, and everyone can have and enjoy their fucking turn.”

    You whimpered again, but for an entirely different reason. Before you had been undergoing extreme pleasure, and now you were experiencing vast fear.

    Steve dipped his spearing tongue into your cunt, collecting every drop that he could, not wanting a single bit to go to waste. He hummed into your pussy as he slowly rolled his tongue around against your walls, and despite not welcoming the feeling, you felt the optimistic presence of pleasure grow in your chest.

    “That’s it Stevie, make her cum.” Your cunt clenched upon its own will, clamping down onto his tongue as he ate you, panicked and conflicted breaths escaping from your mouth. “There we go, I knew you could be a good girl for us.”

    “No…” you flinched away from him as he attempted to press a kiss of reward upon your forehead. His face grew unimpressed at your declination of attentive treatment.

    “Do I have to remind you what the affects of using that word with me is?” You’d have said no again, but you knew it’d all end the same way. Your fate was already written for you, and Bucky was the scribe for it all. He turned to Steve, a darkness tingling his irises as he saw a little of his own cum upon Steve’s chin, but said nothing regarding that matter. “Tell FRIDAY that she’s to send everyone here in thirty. Tell her that we have a little issue that we need to sort out… together.”

    Bucky Tags: @tylard-blog1 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @kaitieskidmore1

    #heavy bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #Steve Rogers x reader smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky oneshot #steve rogers reader insert #dark bucky x reader #dark avengers #marvel x reader angst #marvel smut #captain america x you #captain america x reader #imagines#imagine#xreader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader smut #dark mcu
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  • glowingbadger
    19.07.2021 - 4 days ago
    #ashe ubert #ashe x reader #amab reader#fire emblem#feh#fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #spicy headcanons #fire emblem headcanons #fire emblem smut
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  • donutloverxo
    15.07.2021 - 1 week ago

    Riding Steve

    Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

    Yet another fic which was the outcome of hoeie chats with @gotnofucks ! In which you ride Steve for the first time. Dividers by @firefly-graphics

    Warnings - smut(m/f), daddy kink, innocence kink, inexperienced reader, cum play, like a small mention of blood and virginity.

    Word count - 1.5k

    “I can’t tell you how happy I am... finally found someone whose libido actually rivals mine,” you gushed, a huge bright smile plastered on your face.

    You were on call with your best friend, telling her all about your sexcapades with your boyfriend and daddy Steve. You never thought you’d meet anyone half as kinky or horny as you are, but Steve was your soul mate, in every sense of the word.

    Though he never really thought of you as kinky. To him you were this shy, inexperienced, virgin, ‘good girl’.

    Well, that was until he took your virginity, you made sure to take a picture of the white sheets which were soaked in blood, tainted much like your innocence, when Steve was in the bathroom, you sent said picture to your bestie who was of course proud of you, but also worried after you told her about the impressive size of Steve’s dick.

    Steve was a little more experienced than you. So he has taught you a lot of things when it came to physical pleasure. And you were ever so eager to learn.

    When you told him that you wanted him to teach you how to blow him, to go down on him and pleasure him with your mouth just as he so often did with you, and while you did do a pretty good job in following his instructions, he told you he likes it better when he just holds your head in place and steady and slowly makes love to your mouth just like he does to your pussy.

    You were telling her all about the crazy positions you both had tried out.

    “Sixty-nine but with me on my back! It was tough a little but so nice. I can’t think of anything we haven’t tried... except maybe...”

    “Hm?” you heard your friends voice, urging you to continue.

    “Well, I haven’t been on top.”

    “Really? Girl, you have to! It’s truly amazing. On top, dick just hits you in a different way, you know?”

    “I guess I do get what you mean...” Since different positions gave you different types of orgasms. “But... how would I go about doing it?”

    You were a lady and a 'good girl' you couldn’t possibly initiate it.

    ***

    “Oh,” you arch your back, pulling away from Steve’s mouth because you needed to breath. “Feel so full...”

    Steve’s gaze is transfixed on his fingers, fucking in and out of your cunt, it was the most beautiful thing in the world and he just couldn’t look away.

    But he did to look down at your blissed out face, “Already? I’ve only got two fingers in and we’re just getting started. How will you take my cock, princess?”

    You just whimper, rolling your hips against his hand, “Just put it in me, please.”

    He tched at you, pulling his hand out of your pussy, “Sweetheart, you need to be more patient. But alright, just this once,” Since his dick was achingly hard and desperate to be inside you as well.

    He pushed your thigh aside, but you stopped him by putting your hand on his.

    “I... I was wondering...”

    “What is it, sweet girl?”

    The pet name made you smile, giving you the push you needed to ask for what you wanted, “Can I be on top tonight? I wanna make love to you like you do to me.”

    He smiled down at you, laying on his back on the plush mattress, one hand behind his head, which made his bicep bulge, a couple of his veins popping out a little more.

    You climbed on top of him by throwing a leg over his hips, getting a hold of his dick, and pushing the tip against your entrance, it's a little weird when you realise how even though you both had been doing this for months he was the one who always put it in, so you didn’t really know how to go about doing this.

    "Go on I'll tell you if you do something wrong." He told you.

    It was a little awkward but you sink down on his dick, he groaned as you clench around him, he was just looking at you and your nude body on top of him as if he was undressing you even moreso!

    How's that even possible?!

    “We should turn off the lights, that way I can do a better job at pleasing you and won't be as anxious.” You suggested.

    "But then I won’t be able to see how you’re loving me.”

    "But..." You pouted because you wanted to get your way!

    "There's no hiding from me," he told you as he caresses your breasts, pinching your nipples because he loves how your pussy tightens around him just a little when he does, ”You already belong to me, she’s already mine...” referring to your pussy, which he had claimed over and over again after popping your cherry, and then he touched your pussy, playing with your pubic hair before pushing apart the lips so he could see his big cock inside your tiny little cunt. “You’re already mine. The only thing left to do is put a ring on you and give you my name so that the rest of the world knows it too. I've seen all of you. What's the point in switching off the lights? I wanna see your face. You look the cutest when you're cumming, puppy."

    So you agree finally, because when Steve wants something he always gets it. "Okay daddy. But... don't laugh at me."

    "I would never," he shook his head, taking one of your hands which was holding onto his abs for support and making you push your intimate lips apart so he could see his dick inside you, "There you go, be good, keep it like that."

    You just nod, "Can I move now? It's getting hard to stay still," you squirm on top, because you need more friction and stimulation, just being filled up like that without it is literally torture.

    "Yes baby. Go on, make daddy proud."

    You started fucking yourself on top of him, you can feel him so much deeper inside you, it's amazing, turns out your friend was right! She always is.

    Daddy’s just admiring you, his heart is so full of pride, he still has that one hand behind his head because while he wouldn't always prefer it, it's still nice to relax once in a while and let his girl prove her love to him, even though he knows she'd literally die for him. She could never love him as much as he loves her.

    His other hand, touched your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear, caresses your breasts some more.

    "I love you so much, daddy," your eyes tear up, because you're so vulnerable and while you've said it and meant it so many times, your love for him always overwhelms you.

    "I know baby. I love you more." He says as he pushes your tears off your cheeks.

    You start whimpering when you get close to your climax, rolling your hips and squirming because usually Steve helps you gets there.

    "You wanna cum baby?"

    You nod furiously. He held onto your hips to stop you, pulling you down to his body he hugged you close to him, your face pressed against his heart where you could hear it beating. You suck on his nipple as he starts thrusting up into you, your head all cloudy, high in the sky.

    He holds onto you, kissing your hair as he fucks you through your climax.

    "Want daddy's cummies in my mouth," you said against his nipple before going back to sucking.

    "Later baby, right now I gotta cum in your pussy and keep her full for some time. Wouldn't you like that?"

    "Yes."

    You felt him fill you up with his warm spend, his super soldier serum allowing him to cum a lot, he couldn't stuff it all in your pussy but it felt so nice, just like he said it would.

    You should always trust daddy to know what's best for you.

    But you still want his cummies in your mouth and in your tummy, so when he pulled out of you, with lots of whining from you.

    "Gotta clean my princess up," he told you as he pecked your forehead.

    You hold onto his arm to keep him from leaving.

    "May I suck you clean? Please?" He always said yes if you asked nicely and remembered your manners.

    "Of course, baby," he said, his thumb stroking your soft lips, "Open."

    And like a good girl you did, he pushed his half erect cock in, or half of his cock because right now you can barely fit half of him in your mouth, but you were determined to practice, to learn and take more of him as time went on, you suck on him, tasting both your mixed juices, you wanted to keep sucking some more but he pulled out.

    "The balls too," he told you, pushing them against his mouth and you suck them clean, slurping everything up, tasting his sweet pearly seed.

    You suck on the top of his dick, making sure you've gotten everything before he left to get some towels from the bathroom.

    #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n
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  • donutloverxo
    13.07.2021 - 1 week ago

    A Royal Scandal 2

    Modern royalty au

    (Image from Pinterest)

    Cowritten with @lizzygal

    I'm so sorry! I made a mistake while posting this yesterday so I'm reposting it now. Hope y'all enjoy💖

    Note - Since y'all liked it so much we've decided to post this fic on both ao3 and my tumblr! There will be no taglists for this however💖 You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

    Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

    Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

    Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, Mentions of previous domestic abuse.

    Pairing - King!Steve x reader

    Word count - 8k

    To be fair, Steven could understand why his mother was so upset after watching the entire footage from the royal steam rooms. He had a far better understanding after having seen the footage in question. The one that had led to his mother’s reaction that very morning.

    Seated beside Carol on the ride back, he slipped in his wireless earbuds and pulled up the first video he found online on his phone.

    A separate car had been sent for you for whenever your meeting completed. However, he had a whole series of his own back at the palace before his day could be considered over in the administrative offices. Days were never really over for him. Should anything happen somewhere in his nation, he would be informed. As was expected for a ruler.

    Until then, he had fifteen or so minutes to kill till he arrived back at the royal palace, depending on city traffic.

    Which was how he found himself watching what was obviously some sort of hidden camera. As the royal banya did not have CCTV cameras. Steve found himself making a mental note to himself to ask Carol about it.

    After he watched the video.

    He had the feeling that this would not be going away anytime soon. Therefore, he needed to know what was on there if he was going to have to defend his actions, or even speak about it.

    It was somewhat surreal watching himself walk into view wearing nothing. Not even a towel. Talking with someone who was obviously you.

    Based on where the camera was located, Steve could tell it was somewhere in the hallway that led from the steam rooms into either the showers or locker room. Thank all the saints above your back was to the camera. Half of it anyway. You were standing at a turn in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Half of you hidden. A towel wrapped around your body.

    Thanking those saints above still that there was no sound, Steve watched on as a voice narrated the video, some celebrity blogger dissecting the footage as if it were a pivotal moment in some sporting event.

    Steve watched himself turn to face you, facing the camera too and exposing his entire self to the world.

    Not that he was ashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed about. Steve was built tall and powerful like his father and mother’s father. He kept himself in shape and as for the manhood that hung heavy between his thighs, he refused to be embarrassed by that either. The blogger however did have several opinions about what she referred to as, the royal sword.

    She also seemed to be very opinionated when Steve watched himself kneel down in front of you. He’d never watched himself go down on you before and found himself transfixed, easily able to ignore the blogger’s excited rambling.

    For once, Steve watched your hands sink into his hair as he sank between your legs. He watched your pleasure grow and grow, he watched you sag back into the wall and reach up, grabbing at it like a cat stretching out in the hot sun.

    Seeing it happen like this? Steve felt like a voyeur. He felt like he was doing something wrong. And then, he watched you climax on his face. He watched your hands tighten up against the corner of the walls meeting. He watched himself stand and no longer noticed the commentary as he sheathed himself between your legs and proceeded to pound you into the wall without mercy.

    His attention caught on one little inconsequential thing. Watching one of your legs that wound over his thigh bounce wildly each time.

    Quickly he exited out of the video and blog. Unwilling to watch more. Pulling a bud from his ear, he glanced over at Carol who was watching the city fly by her window.

    “Have you inquired as to if the palace guard has looked into how the video was taken in the royal banya?”

    Blonde hair dusted her shoulders as she looked at her king. Carol answered without a second of hesitation. “Already done Your Majesty. The camera was found this morning. A webcam of some type. It’s been sent away for fingerprints and I have the best IT professional I know looking into it, to determine if we can track down who it belongs to. The royal guard has also launched an investigation into all palace employees.”

    “Thank you,” he answered her with complete sincerity.

    Captain Danvers had been at his side since he assumed the throne and had proven herself hundreds of times over. She was his confidant. She was his bodyguard. She was his closest thing to a friend, if Steve could say he had such a thing. He could tell Carol anything. He had told Carol about you. Carol had told him about her sick mother and in return, Steve have given her a cottage on palace grounds while providing a nurse. So that Carol would be able to spend as much time as possible with her mother in her final days. Carol still lived on the palace grounds in that cottage down by the gardens.

    “I’ll let you know when I know something,” she assured him.

    ***

    Your return to the palace felt like it took forever. Mostly because your panties were very obviously damp from leakage and you were greatly concerned about a wet stain. The modern equivalent of a scarlet letter. Letting everyone know what you’d done.

    Twice you’d checked in a bathroom along with every mirrored surface you came across.

    Alas, it seemed you were in luck.

    No one would know that you’d had inappropriate contact on a workday, or think you’d had an accident. Granted if someone would have noticed you planned on blaming your monthlies.

    By the grace of the many women who came before you, you managed to get back to the palace without being caught and were about to go change your panties when a familiar face popped into your office.

    “Hey! You’re coming! I’m not taking no for an answer!”

    Wanda.

    Bright red hair and a brighter red dress that was far from office appropriate appeared in your office, leaping in like an acrobat leaping onto a stage. Making you look up from where you stood behind your desk, digging through your handbag.

    A bunch of different thoughts buzzed through your head.

    What was Wanda talking about? Where did she want you to go? Did Wanda wear that mini-dress to work? Cause it was about five inches too short and did downright sinful things to the girls. Wanda could always pull off anything. She looked amazing in clubwear, sweats and those tea-party dresses that Jackie O was always wearing.

    “Coming?” Fell from your lips in a valiant attempt to stall till you could make sense of what was happening. “What are you not taking no for an answer for this time?”

    In your roommate swept like a hurricane.

    “It’s practically six!” She declared, as if that was supposed to mean something to you. It had you staring at her and waiting for more information. Hands paused in their hunt for clean panties and a pantyliner in your bag’o’stuff. “No more talk of this fake boyfriend. You and me are going to go have dinner. We’re going to hit the bars to pre-game and then to the clubs! Everyone is going so you are too!”

    Such news had you freezing in your patent leather pumps.

    Pre-gaming? Dinner? Clubs? Everyone?

    How?

    It was only Thursday and then you remembered.

    It was a long weekend. The winning of some great victory over the Germans from the big war that you only kinda remembered hearing about. Mostly because you’d been busy with the border issue and the education overhaul. You’d known that it was coming up and the entire four-day weekend would be spent celebrating.

    Wanda saw your face. She saw what you were thinking. She was practically a mind reader. Which led her to pointing at you scoldingly. “No! No no no! No checking emails or messages. No more work. No! We’re going out tonight and we are going to have fun! You remember what fun is? Right?”

    But…you really did have emails and messages to check. You actually did have a ton of work to do. Granted you always had emails and messages to check, plus work piling up. It was the nature of your job. Helping in the running of a country was a 24/7 gig.

    “Wanda…”

    “Nope!” She declared, marching on into your office and behind your desk to chase you out. Shooing you. Literally making you hop away and grab your handbag because you just knew Wanda wasn’t letting you back near your desk. That much was for sure.

    Like a sheepdog, she herded you around your messy desk as you attempted to protest, to get her to listen, to inform her that you really really did have a good bit of work to do.

    “Wait…hold on…wait, Wanda…just one second…gah!”

    “No more protests! I’m not going to hear it anymore! I refuse to let you hide behind work or the fake boyfriend.”

    More protests came from you. You tried. You really really did. But Wanda was shoving and pushing and hip bumping you out into a hallway that did not look like an office building, instead, it was very obviously a palace.

    Your heels clicked on polished white marble that shone. Walls were cream and had priceless art hung around, gold gilded borders ran up along where the ceiling met the walls. Light fixtures were old, bronze and cut glass. Furniture that belonged in Sotheby’s was sparsely decorated around the halls.

    Door were old and creaky up and down the halls, wooden with locks that required big iron keys.

    It was unlike any other place you’d ever worked.

    You could feel and see and even smell the smokey history oozing from the walls.

    A few people were hurrying out of their offices and locking the doors behind them, which Wanda didn’t even let you do as she went on indignantly. “No! Nope! Clint from Tinder will not wait forever! He digs foreigners and he has a job and he loves to dance!”

    At mention of Tinder, your gut lurched.

    Dear god not this again.

    Why had you ever agreed to let Wanda make you a Tinder profile? At the time it seemed so reasonable. Let her make the profile and she’d get off your ass about your alleged imaginary boyfriend. Problem solved! How on earth were you to know she’d be on the damn app making matches for you?

    “Why don’t you go out with Clint from Tinder,” you wanted to know, earning yourself a roll of Wanda’s eyes as you were dragged down along the hallway to the massive marble stairs. Looking as if they’d been carved from one piece, smoothly curling down a floor to the ground floor. Large chandeliers hung with cut glass that threw light everywhere. A massive painting hung up on the large wall of a long dead large royal family in the palace of past.

    “He’s not my type. But he is absolutely your type.”

    Somehow you doubted that.

    Sighing deeply and focusing on not snapping your ankle on the stairs and in your heels, you followed Wanda down, mixing in with the few stragglers who were leaving work and making mental notes to text Steve and let him know you’d be late coming back to the palace that night. You were then planning when you could check your work emails and work-phone messages. That had to be done in a quiet place where no one could overhear. Maybe you could go out to the club and feign a tummy ache? Then sneak away from Clint? It’d probably be much easily to sneak away from Clint than Wanda.

    Click. Click. Click.

    With every step you maneuvered down your heels were noisy. You’d managed to fling your sizable bag over your shoulder and just knew Steve was going to be annoyed with you. But he was an adult. Being adults meant the two of you would have to do things that you didn’t want.

    “So help me, if it kills the both of us, you and I will be going out tonight and having a fun time! This is a celebratory weekend! There are festivities going on all over the city!” Wanda went on, yanking you along behind her upon reaching the bottom step and heading in the general direction of the ground floor exits.

    Hurrying along behind her, you followed but you weren’t happy about it.

    God did you have so much work to do and you really really wanted to spend the night with Steve. And maybe if you gave in to Wanda, she’d get off your ass about your fake boyfriend? Wait, no, your secret boyfriend, because Steve was very real, you just didn’t want to be eviscerated all over the internet and tabloids for dating a king.

    You’d seen what happened when a pretty actress had dated then married a prince who didn’t rule his country. The only thing you had going for you was Steve’s country was still looked at with some serious side-eye from the world, due to past events and rulers. Plus, he wasn’t a young prince that had grown up before the eyes of the world. He was a son of a tyrant, a citizen of a sizable nation the world still viewed suspiciously with a questionable human rights record.

    “You’re going to love the club! It’s totally new and they open at ten. Meaning we can have plenty of time with the girls!”

    Girls?

    As in plural?

    Because of course this would be a group event. Wanda never half-assed anything.

    “Wanda…” you began.

    Before Wanda could turn her attention on you, loud shrill lady screams came and you were greeted to the sight of Maria, Okoye and Pepper. All three threw up their arms and grabbed Wanda in a big hug, yanking her away from you and freeing you from her grip.

    Loud girl screeches followed.

    There was group hopping and hugs and laughter.

    It should have made you realize that it’d been so long since you had a fun girls night. It should have reminded you that you were young and your life shouldn’t be all about work and sneaking off with your boyfriend whenever the two of you were able to.

    Your heart should have been warmed by the sight of your palace coworkers who were clearly part of the aforementioned Girls.

    How long had it been since you had fun?

    How long had it been since you’d had a night out on the town?

    What were you doing?

    Were you jumping and screeching and hugging too?

    No.

    You were digging into your handbag so you could text Steve real quick. To let him know about your change in plans before he began to think you’d bailed because you were a coward and got cold feet.

    Just as your fingers touched the smooth surface of your iPhone…

    A noise caught your attention.

    Movement.

    Peering up to the side at the wall, or what you’d assumed was a hallway wall since you were in another hallway nearly identical to the one upstairs. All while the hugfest continued. You noticed that the wall was at a weird angle. As if it were opening up on a hinge and by the time you realized that the wall was actually an opening to a hidden passageway, a hand grabbed your elbow and yanked you in.

    No more than a soft squeak came from you.

    In you tumbled.

    Into a dimly lit hallway that was actually a passageway you found yourself. With a metal sounding click the wall slid back into place and a big hand fell over your mouth. Making you immediately panic, immediately reach up to grab the hand that was silencing you. Making an arm band around your chest and pull you flush back against a broad muscular body.

    “Did you honestly think for one moment that I would allow you to go get drunk with Wanda? Or go to a club with a man that she met for you on Tinder?”

    Steve.

    It was Steve.

    His faint aftershave still burnt your nose but paired with the masculine scent that was him, you relaxed only a little bit, just a smidge.

    How the hell did he know all of that? Had he bugged your office? Was he following you?

    Deep in your chest your heart pounded wildly. Your skin was on fire. Even though it was dimly lit, you swore you could see each nail and groove in the wooden walls of the hidden passage.

    Steve’s shoes were soft on the carpeted floor. Yours however never reached. Your legs dangled. Desperately you stretched out to try and reach your toes down, but alas, Steve was holding you up and was simply that much taller than you. Easily holding you up as he carried you.

    His voice an angry snarl, a seething whisp against your ear. “That is so disappointing my love. A failure on both our parts,” came his angry voice. Walking with sure footing and a quick pace through the only barely lit halls.

    Turning here and there, quickly and suddenly, until you were very much lost.

    A protest came from behind his palm that was crushed against your mouth. Your blood heating with every passing second till it felt as if it were boiling. All that sudden fear was turning into anger at this treatment.

    “I’ve clearly failed you if you’re unable to announce with nothing but the utmost certainty that you’re both in a relationship and have no desire to go out clubbing with whomever Clint from Tinder is.” The word clubbing was spat out, as if Steve found it vile on his tongue. “As for you? Yesterday we were discussing where to go for your birthday and today, you refused to answer one of my calls! You have work to do tonight to make up to me your behavior today!”

    Further down the hidden passageway you were unceremoniously carried pulled to his front. Your brain racing at warp speed.

    You had work to do? You had to make up for your behavior?

    Had he lost his damn mind?

    Had he not seen the video of his naked nether-regions all over the internet? Or the sex that made the footage a sex tape? The two of you were now amateur porn stars and he was mad that you? Because you were trying to be lowkey until the entire situation blew over? Steve was mad because you were being reasonable?

    A most valiant attempt was made to free yourself.

    You struggled. You kicked. You flailed and shrilled behind the hand over your mouth. No longer taken by surprise or frightened. Now you were growing angry.

    On top of being terrified of being found out in that footage and ridiculed by the world, or worse, chased out of this country by a horde of angry people who didn’t agree with you being the kings choice as not only a foreigner, but one from pretty humble roots. You were upset that the world saw such an intimate moment between the two of you and even if Steve didn’t care that his junk was all over the internet, you cared. You cared a great deal. The royal junk was your junk. It was bad enough you had to know he’d dated women before you who’d seen him nude and were intimate with him, but now the world? It was simply too much for you to comprehend.

    Steve slowed and turned, using his elbow he made something pop and a slight crack of light where there was obviously another hidden door in the wall appeared.

    Using his broad shoulder, Steve pushed the door open and stepped out into a hallway that led down to the royal chambers and split off.

    With his knee, he shoved the hidden panel shut and tightening his grip on you, Steve hurried down that hallway.

    A completely different one from where the administrative offices were located.

    Rich wooden paneling covered the walls. Making everything appear warmer, lusher. An amber haze hung in the air.

    Thick carpet was underfoot. Furniture spoke to its age but had been made with a quality that endured. Like this palace. Built when his land was called something else but had stood through time in proof of his claim to the throne.

    Generations before him had ruled, claimed spouses and lovers in these halls, grown old and made history and now it was his turn.

    Merely that knowledge had him growing excited in his slacks for a second time that day. All of your thrashing and struggling didn’t help. If anything, it sparked a part of his brain that insisted he ravish and conquer you in his royal bed.

    Mouth pressed to your ear, till he felt amber and diamonds press against his lips. “I swear, I will spend the rest of tonight inside of you until things are as they were yesterday. Until you remember that when I speak to you in any manner, you answer. Considering how thoroughly you’ve consumed every last part of me, it is only fair.”

    And then, in his slowed pace down the hall ever closer to the door that would lead into Steve’s Royal Apartment, he saw a portrait up on the wall that made him pause.

    It was him.

    Or his portrait from when he’d turned thirty.

    There he stood looking down at you both. Dressed ceremonially in his crown, holding the traditional ruling scepter and wearing the robes from kings of past. Fur, jeweled toned fabric that he’d easily filled out with gold adornments, amber buttons and pipping on his shoulders.

    What was most striking about this portrait compared to all the others of Steven throughout the palace, was he was alone in it and unlike all the others, at the time, he’d not been single.

    Further making that internal fire burn hotter.

    Making him stop and force you to look up at it with him. Framed in a gilded bronze heirloom. Up where he had to look at it to be reminded of what could have been.

    “Look! Look!”

    You stopped struggling and looked, were well aware of his mouth against your hair.

    “See? See it? You could have been there with me. At my side. Wearing my crown. Wearing the robes and jewels of my grandmothers. My queen.”

    And indeed you saw.

    When you’d seen the finished portrait, you had been blown away at how your body reacted to the sight of your lover in his traditional uniform he only pulled out for big special events. How powerful he looked. How sexy he was wearing a crown, holding a golden scepter with an eagle on the end clutching a piece of amber the size of an egg.

    The arm around your chest fell so he could point at the empty space in the picture beside him. “Look. Right there. That is where you would have been. Right there. At my side.”

    His hand over your mouth still held you flush against him. Pulled tight against him.

    That thought, that entire notion of you painted on a portrait, up there with Steve at his side. It was so surreal to you.

    When it was just you and Steve it was fire and gold and everything was amazing. When it was King Steve and his Chief of Staff it was stimulating and exciting. You still weren’t sure about being queen. A queen! That wasn’t like being a princess or a duchess. A queen was different. Even the word felt different.

    It made your heart start to pound wildly in your chest again. It made you breathe hard against the back of his hand. It made you have a physiological reaction.

    ***

    This was not how Carol intended to spend her night.

    It was not how she wished to start her off-time. Having given Val the update on all things that had transpired for the day as she handed off command of the Royal Guard to her fellow captain.

    No sooner had she told Val everything, did one of the messengers from communications come hurrying in. A slip of paper in her hand. A note that changed everything for that night, that week and even that month.

    It had left Carol walking through the royal apartments towards the Queen Mother’s rooms.

    As she knew exactly what King Steven was doing and quite frankly, she wanted no part in disturbing that unless she absolutely had to.

    Besides. The message that had been sent to the palace via royal envoy was meant for Her Majesty. It was best Her Majesty the Queen Mother figured out how best to deal with this coming…situation.

    Compared to His Majesty’s Private Rooms, Sarah’s were all light and brightness. White marble and ornate touches. Colorful priceless paintings and large bouquets of fresh flowers in crystal vases. Soft plush furniture held little personal touches. A white chenille throw draped over her couch by a fireplace. Pink slippers sat on the floor. Books both new and ancient with various markers holding her place were scattered about. Fresh flowers. She loved fresh flowers. They were everywhere.

    As expected, the door to the Queen Mother’s apartments were open.

    Carol still paused outside of it to knock gently.

    “Your Majesty?” She called out, looking at her watch to see that it was nearing seven. Around seven was when the queen took her dinner meal privately. Of course she’d leave the door open for kitchen staff to bring up food as usual. It wasn’t one of the nights that was reserved for Steve and his mother to have their dinners together.

    After the death of her husband the former king, Sarah had effectively thrown open all the doors that he had imprisoned her with.

    Her soft voice drifted out.

    Delicate and gentle.

    The Queen Mother sat in a large chair by a big window overlooking the city. Her pale hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. A string of pearls tightened and loosened around her fingers as she lowered the book she’d been reading. A pleasant smile came over her soft features.

    Upon seeing the stone of Carol’s face, the queen frowned. “What is it? What is wrong?”

    Only confirming that something was wrong, Carol shut the door and locked it.

    Dinner had been brought up. Smells emanated from the queens private dining room off to the left. It reminded Carol that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning. It had been that kind of a day.

    Clasping her hands before her, she rocked back on her heels. “A message was sent by Her Highness Janet Van Dyne. She and her daughter will be at the palace tomorrow…”

    Janet and Hope Van Dyne?

    Steven’s former fiancée and her mother?

    Two golden eyebrows rose, making Carol press on. “Her Highness is under the impression that they’ll be staying here? In the palace?”

    All of this was new to Sarah.

    She had not heard from Janet since Steve’s coronation. When she and her husband had been in attendance. Earlier that particular year, Hope had broken her engagement with Steven to run away with a Maharaja.

    It’d been all over the tabloids.

    A young princess of the Netherlands had broken her engagement to the crown prince of an incredibly traditional nation to follow her heart. Hope had spent many years splashed across tabloids and blogs with a handsome charismatic Asian Prince. She’d lost her royal title and gave tell-all interviews about how her family had forbade her from running away and how she’d never marry a man from infamous Rogers Royal Line. And then, oddly, she was back home with her family this year.

    Sarah had found it unusual. Alas, she was a busy woman with a life of her own to keep her busy.

    “Was anything else in the message,” Sarah wanted to know.

    Carol shook her head.

    It had been a simple message that was very to the point.

    Sighing in a most un-Sarah-like sort of way. She set her book down on the arm of her chair and rose. Tall. Willowy. Pursing her lips. Her dress fell around her in a gauzy cloud.

    “Do you want me to tell His Majesty?”

    Pausing, the older women considered the question. Dare she tell her son? He deserved to know. Nothing good would come from this visit.

    If it were Janet alone? Sarah would not be so suspicious. But Janet and Hope? And that they would come so last minute? After the release of this video footage from the royal sauna?

    “Is my son with her?”

    Silence.

    Carol was quiet.

    A noise came from the Queen Mother. A clicking of her tongue. Stepping into her slippers, she pulled the hem of her dress up. “I suppose I should not be surprised that you would keep this from me.”

    More quiet came.

    “I won’t ask. I’ll find out my own way and leave him be for now. Janet and Hope won’t be here tonight. This can be a problem for tomorrow, today has been difficult enough for us all. Let tomorrow be tomorrow.”

    Let tomorrow be tomorrow.

    On her other hand was her wedding band. A treasure itself. Now on the widow’s finger. It was so symbolic of the cage she’d lived in for the duration of her marriage.

    Absentmindedly, she twisted the rings. “Have you eaten yet?” Pulling them up and down her hand. “I had hoped you would come. I had the kitchen bring up extra.” Off slipped the rings that she had to wear in public. In her hand they jingled until she set them down on a smoothly polished table.

    With two heavy clicks, they bounced on the wood by a vase full of peonies. Freeing her for the time being.

    “I missed you while you were away.”

    A blush bloomed over her porcelain complexion at Carol’s words.

    As she watched Carol lock the door to her chambers, a warmth bloomed within her chest. Such words were so simple. So honest. They were words she had not heard before in her life. In this new chapter however, in this new time in her life, she had become accustomed to kind words and compassion.

    “I missed you as well.” She confessed, stepping closer and still keeping space between them. As some habits died hard. “Stay with me? Tonight?”

    “There is nothing I want more, Sarah.”

    ***

    As it turned out, now you were ready to talk.

    However.

    Unfortunately.

    Steve was now past that point and was on a whole other page.

    You found yourself protesting when he carried you into his bedroom like some manner of caveman would carry a slab of meat. Shrilling out when he yanked and ripped and tore at your dress, forcing it over your head after ripping fabric and popping buttons, till it was an unsalvageable heap of material and threads.

    Which was an absolute tragedy.

    You loved that dress.

    You even pointed out that fact to him somewhere between the threshold of his bedroom and his massive bed that really was fit for a king.

    It was so big!

    A headboard wider than Wanda’s itty-bitty car was long. An elaborate collection of regal flourishes and shapes. Dark sheets so soft they were slippery awaited you as you screeched and hollered, letting out an outraged sound when your bra was popped then yanked roughly from you.

    “Steven!” You admonished your king, toes digging deep into the thick carpet as you’d lost your shoes back in the hallway leading to his quarters.

    This whole evening was going off the rails for you. There was no other way to put it.

    Dim sconces on the wall lit the way. Highly effective mood lighting if you ever saw it. Allowing you to see the set in Steve’s face, the firm line of his mouth.

    His fingers wrapped around the back of your neck so he could hold you close, ground out for your benefit. “All day long I tried. Calls. Messages. Texts. Did you want to talk? No. You ignored me. Now I do not wish to talk either.”

    Pushing you forward, you found yourself stumbling but knew if you didn’t walk on your own, Steve would merely toss you up on his bed. Up on the sea of pillows. Framed by gilded silver and dark curtains that came down from above to allow for privacy.

    “All day long you denied me. I’ll remind you what is mine until you’re thinking clearly again. Until we’re back where we were yesterday!”

    “I’m ready to talk now! I’m in a place where I can discuss this with you! I am thinking clearly!”

    Words were not needed.

    Oh no.

    Not when the king grabbed your hand, pulled your arm back and pressed your palm against his straining erection. Hot to the touch. Shockingly hard. Painfully so even you were willing to bet.

    Your knees hit the bed and you were pushed forward till you fell over, till you wound up on the expanse of bedding in a tangle of hands and knees and that silky smooth material.

    A big explosion came from Steve. Feeling like and you were flailing on your stomach, trapped beneath his oppressive weight and the bed. Fighting. Wiggling. Trying to get free from beneath him but bigger stronger arms had your wrists.

    Something was being wrapped around your wrists that you couldn’t see, as your vision was impeded by the broad chest in your face. Right there. Blocking your line of sight. Pinning you down to the sea of grey until finally, finally, he was up and you were once more struggling, wiggling, jerking and finding that you were tied to the headboard.

    You were tied to the headboard. You were naked and bound to his bed.

    Silky fabric that was Steve’s tie bound your wrists snugly together and wove into the headboard, securing you there most soundly.

    It was outrageous! It was absurd!

    You were tied to his headboard!

    It was a first for you.

    When your gaze returned to your boyfriend and even that was now a bit questionable, you were greeted to the sight of Steve shedding his suit. Yanking off each garment without pause or care. A few tears were heard and he was far rougher than need be. A button or two may have flown off.

    “You cannot be serious! That’s your plan? You’re going to take what’s yours? Are you serious? This is not the dark ages!”

    Ignoring you, Steve shoved his slacks down his long legs. Allowing his rigid cock to bob obscenely. Causing an eyeroll to immediately come from you. A hint of something dark on his hip caught your eye. But it was only a flash and as he was moving, yanking off his suit jacket and fiercely ripping open buttons on his shirt, you couldn’t get a good look.

    Was it a bruise? A tattoo?

    Somehow you doubted kings were even allowed to have tattoos. Or that Steve even had the time to get himself permanently inked. When the hell did he get that bruise?

    Momentarily distracted by him climbing up on the bed, you looked up to give your bindings a good hard yank.

    No luck.

    Steve’s weight was pushing you down. Shoving you into the bed. Pinning you down as you protested, implored and began to plea. Which was exactly what he wanted. After everything you had put him through today? You would beg. You would plead. You would forget all about that video.

    “Open your mouth.”

    It was an order.

    It could be nothing less.

    An absolute command that had your lips slowly parting as your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden treatment, this roughness. Steve held his painful erection in hand and pushed his tip to your lips. Pushed the red end of his cock sticky with precum past your lips. Till you were forced to open your mouth wider and wider for him. To take him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

    Steve held your gaze and pushed his member in further. Straddling your chest and gripping his headboard in one hand, till it dug into his fingers. While his other hand grabbed your face to hold it tight.

    You’d never be able to take all of him. He knew this. You’d never been able to no matter how much you’d tried. But he wanted to see how much he could fit in your mouth tonight.

    “Don’t swallow. Don’t let me down again.”

    Your mouth was so warm closing around him. Wet. Sacred. It made him want to close his eyes to sink in deep but Steve would not. He would do that soon enough. He would lose himself in your cunt soon enough.

    A few small movements from his hips sank his cock deeper into your mouth. Filling your cheeks as you struggled. Until you found a motion of moving up and down his length, running your tongue along his sides. Wetting up his shaft till sloppy noises started to fill his ears and a small little dribble began to moisten the corners of your mouth.

    Those blue eyes remained set on your own. Never once showing you mercy.

    “Tomorrow. In the future. If I call or text, you will answer.”

    There was no follow-up. Nor was it a question.

    Long fingers that belonged on an artist or musician sank into your hair tightly.

    All you could do was nod as drool rolled down your chin and you suckled his cock like you would a popsicle, without swallowing, sucking on his sensitive flesh as he liked and without the aid of your own hands to steady his member.

    It was glorious and Steve could only slightly appreciate it. As the words that fell from his mouth were more important, more vital.

    Feeling how wet your mouth was getting was fantastic. Absolutely. Your nimble tongue was a gift. No one had ever sucked his cock like you.

    However…he was still frustrated, still angry, still hurt even.

    He’d not worked his way through those feelings as of yet.

    Perhaps? In your body?

    Those feelings teased and taunted him with his unworthiness. Of how you hadn’t been firmer with your roommate. How you had allowed her to drag you down the stairs for a night out with possibly another man? It infuriated him. It sent his hips rocking into your mouth. It had his cock rubbing up along the back of your throat and made your eyes water.

    No.

    Steve would not lose you. He loved you too much to even entertain such a notion. No. Infact, he would make sure that he ruined you. By the end of the night, he would make certain that you’d never even amused the notion of being set up. He would be completely sure that when you left his chambers come morning, you would never be doubted when you told Wanda or anyone that you had a partner.

    “I want to start publicly courting you. I want to be engaged this year. I do not want to hide any longer. When people look at you, I want them to know that you belong to me.”

    Noises came around his cock that Steve knew were words and he did not care.

    “Look at yourself.” Steve stilled, his words harsh, bitter even. “You have my cock in your mouth and I am completely at your mercy. Tied to the bed of kings because I cannot go one night without dreaming of you, fantasizing about your tight cunt and smooth skin. I would give you the world and all you want is nothing. You are the worst type of infuriating.”

    As if to prove his point, he steadily pumped his pelvis up into your mouth. Each slide in pushed saliva and pre-ejaculate out, making it ooze from the seal of your lips around his erection. Against your throat his wet balls bounced. His ass rested on your chest and he could not get enough. More. He wanted more. He needed more. Craved more.

    The urge to go harder was strong.

    Steve wanted so badly to fuck you. To make you feel how much you drove him mad. How you caused him physical pain from longing alone.

    With drool smeared down your chin and neck, never looking more beautiful in his opinion, Steve pulled his dick out. Done with your mouth for now. Needing more. Needing to grab your tits and to be closer to your face, looking closer into your eyes.

    In a familiar sort of way, your throat bobbed.

    “Did you just swallow when I specifically told you not to?”

    A moment of hesitation followed from you that had Steve gripping your face, easing his body down yours but holding your slippery chin tight in his grip. Your eyes were wide. Again, probably without even realizing, you swallowed in nervousness.

    “I’m…I’m sorry…”

    “I’m sorry what,” he demanded, leaning down closer, licking the wetness from your chin and earning from you a most satisfying shiver that wracked your body.

    “S-s-sorry, Your Majesty.”

    His tongue was hot and wet on your chin. His body was heavy and hot on your own. Skin on skin contact made your brain short circuit. It was a miracle you could string those syllables together. With your hands bound so snugly to the bed. All you could do was take it. Take what he gave you.

    Feeling him push your thighs open and position himself between your hips made you gasp. Words failed you.

    And then words didn’t even matter because he was pushing into you. Claiming you. Taking what was his because you did belong to him. You belonged to him in every possible way.

    A scream exploded out of you when he dove right in. Sank in till his crown was pressed up against the wall of your cervix. Deeper than anyone had ever been before. Hands were grabbing your ankles and spreading you wide. Spearing you on his cock. Stretching your body taut.

    “So wet. You were made to take me. Made to take your king.” He whispered more to himself even though you heard. You would have heard a pin drop. You could hear your heart pound and blood rush through your ears, each gasp your lungs took. You could feel every last inch of him deep inside your core. Painfully stretching you open like this. Burning. Tingling. Twisting.

    Hands tightened on your ankles till you looked up at Steve. Hovering over you like a pillaging warlord about to ravish his prize.

    “You have till Monday to decide how you wish us to become public. I will not wait a day longer.”

    Seeing you like this before him. Splayed out. Your pussy curled around his member, plump from being filled with your breasts round puddles up on your chest. It set his hips into a frenzy. Powerful thrusts were sent into your tight walls that made Steve grunt every time from the power behind his motions, from the sight of his cock vanishing up into you. Watching your pussy take him so hungrily as you cried out beneath him each time. Breasts swaying. Skin slapping on skin with the contact. Your hips jiggled, his headboard creaked, his balls slapped soundly against you both.

    “Say it. Say the words to me. Say them!” Steve commanded you. Pieces of his hair falling and sticking to his sweaty forehead as he sank in to the very depths of you then pulled out, revealing a glistening shaft before slamming his member right back in where it belonged.

    “Yes…yes…yes…yes…” you chanted, over and over, again and again with every thrust in, every withdraw that was like heaven and hell, your body needing him to complete this circuit only the two of you could create. “…yes…yes…my king…yes my king…”

    Those words. They were a song to his ears and had your ankles slapped together. Those words had the backs of your thighs slapped wetly against his chest, your feet touching his shoulder as Steve continued to pound into you.

    Pumping into your now closed thighs, into your tighter walls at this angle.

    “Look!”

    Dimly your eyes fluttered, you looked into his burning blue eyes.

    “Look. Here.”

    You followed his gaze to where he pointed, looking down at his pelvis, where his hip met his abdomen in that hard cut of muscle that was visible above his beltline. The one you loved to lick.

    He did have a tattoo.

    It took you a second to realize what you were looking at and focus, as his thrusts continued without mercy, pounding away, slamming into you without mercy. Shaking and pushing you into his bed.

    Your writing was inked into his skin. Your very own signature.

    Your name was forever scrawled into Steve’s skin and then, it hit you. Your climax took you by complete surprise. Your entire body went stiff. A pained noise came from you and you shattered all around his cock. Fingernails dug into your palm and you stared at your name in cruel ecstasy.

    Steve fell too. You could tell from his thrusts getting wild, falling out of sync. You could tell because he swore out, clenched his face and held your thighs tight to his chest.

    Pumping deeply into you while your body milked him for everything he had to give.

    Making him merely a man in that moment with you.

    Up on his headboard, you were tightly secured and would soon have bruises from arching up against the silk tie restraining you. Unable to do anything but feel and accept what your king was giving you. On your back. In a bed that past kings had slept in.

    None of which was lost on you.

    Not as your body felt leaden, filled with molten hot lava. Limp. Your secret garden continued to suck him in, clench around him and spasm, making your eyes roll up in your head, your body dig into his bed and words fall from your mouth.

    In a most dignified sort of manner, your king humped into your body like a jack rabbit, chasing the last vestiges of his climax with coral wet lips and dark honey hair now damp with sweat.

    A sight for your satiated eyes.

    “Let me call my mother in the morning.” You breathed out slowly, as if figuring out how your lungs worked once more after a marathon. Your words making Steve still above you. Though your cunt did not. It twitched around his royal girth and you met his gaze from on his pillows. “Tomorrow you can have Maria release a statement saying whatever you want. Just let me tell my parents myself. They should hear from me that I’m not coming home.”

    Whatever wind that may have held up his sails had clearly been withdrawn.

    Almost tenderly now, Steve leaned forward to quickly loosen the silk around your wrists and free your hands from his headboard. Stretching out his long powerful body above you. Flushed red now. Glistening. Though he left his tie there. He remained inside of you too. Filling you and stretching you full.

    Gently, he pushed your legs down until they wrapped around him and he was able to rest his weight most carefully on top of you. Pressing wet kisses to your nose, your cheeks and chin. Worshipping your face with delicate touches and caresses.

    “I’ll fly them out here whenever you want. When we get back from Switzerland, I’ll have them waiting for you.”

    Softly you answered, reveling in his softness now that your body had been given her reward, her treat, her pleasure from his roughness. Smelling the musk of his sweat and feeling the wet glide between your bodies.

    Leisurely, your hands found their way up his muscular arms to his shoulders. “You know what I mean. I won’t ever be their daughter again. I won’t ever be Wanda’s roommate. I’ll have to quit my job. Nothing will ever be the same.”

    Those words, well, they settled uncomfortably in him.

    All of them were true.

    You would be giving up so much. He would have to make sure to take care of you even more so, keep a closer eye on you. He would need to have a talk with his mother come morning.

    “That’s true,” Steve softly conceded, rubbing his nose along your own. Barely grazing his lips over yours. A hint of a tongue touched you before his breath danced over your mouth. “We would be together though. Finally together. You. Me. Not hiding anymore.”

    Speaking of hiding.

    That word alone had you pulling away from his mouth to lean to the side, to get a look down at his Adonis belt. At the alluring groove that led down to his pubes where your name was now in black.

    Nay, your signature.

    As if sensing what you were after, your boyfriend tilted up a smidge. Enough for you to see but not enough for him to leave your body. Pray tell that couldn’t happen.

    “When did you do this?”

    “Do you like it,” Steve asked, as if your opinion mattered. Which was laughable considering how permanent it was.

    He’d literally took your signature and had it tattooed on his body.

    “Of course I love it. Now you have a part of me on you all the time.” An incredibly modern take on Steve’s royal jewel gift thing, but in reverse you thought. Then grinned as it sank in. “I can’t believe you did it though.”

    Why wouldn’t he have done it?

    Steve hadn’t thought twice when Maria had gone on about getting her late mother’s writing tattooed on her side, in a lasting forever tribute. Having your writing on him at all times had been an idea that hadn’t left him. Not until he’d had a tattoo artist praised for their work brought to the palace late the other night.

    He wasn’t even going to lie, king or not, there was something downright satisfying about having something like this hidden on his body from all. Known only by you and him. A secret only for you two.

    Bringing him right back to the thought that the biggest secret the two of you shared would soon be out.

    Soon it would be public knowledge and that had Steve brushing his fingertips over your cheeks, kissing the swell of your cheekbone and moving ever just so to make a small moan come from you. “You’ll never regret this. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I’ll devote myself to making you happy. You’ll never regret becoming my queen.”

    #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers
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  • rolerei
    10.07.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    Fashion AU - Noctis x Reader - Pining - Slowburn

    Rating: M

    Chapter: 5/26

    Summary: Noctis is a young designer in search of a model for a prestigious fashion design competition. You’re a third year university student on the brink of a burnout. In the City That Never Sleeps, your paths crossed.

    This chapter: While you sought out Cindy's opinions on your most recent professional woes, Noctis sought out Gladio for advice on dating women.

    -

    In the family home of the Amicitias, Gladio looked up from the book that he was reading and saw Noctis sitting crosslegged by the other side of the coffee table. His dark blue eyes were transfixed on a page of the moleskine notebook that he was scribbling on with utmost concentration. He was dressed in a light grey suit, complete with a tie and meticulously pressed white shirt. If Gladio hadn't known better, he would've thought that the younger man was getting ready for a job interview instead of a lunch with his father.

    Then again, as the CEO of the largest technological conglomerate in the world, Regis Lucis Caelum barely had any time to have lunch with his only son. So in the rare events that he did have the time, Ignis must have stopped at nothing to ensure that Noctis was as presentable as possible during the occasion.

    Glancing back to the passage that he was reading earlier, Gladio couldn't help but tease, "Nervous much, Noct? Guess your father hasn't told you yet what you're being scolded for today, huh?"

    "I am not being scolded."

    Dark, stylistically disheveled head snapped up, and Gladio could barely contain his amused grin. Noctis noticed this, and pouted. A sigh escaped him before his midnight-hued eyes trailed up towards the traditionally etched wooden ceiling. "I mean, I guess I will be, one way or another… Somnus will be joining the lunch, after all. And Ravus, too."

    Gladio clicked his tongue. "My condolences."

    "Don't need any from you."

    "Don't be so salty, Noct. You know I'd be there for you if I could." Gladio's smirk rose as he glanced up omce again from behind his book. "My family was oathbound to protect yours, after all."

    Read more

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  • ramp-it-up
    29.06.2021 - 3 weeks ago

    What That Boat Do?

    Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

    Word Count: 2K

    Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. VERY EXPLICIT. Bathroom sex, oral (m/f receiving), creampie, light choking, a little bit of fluff at the end. Not proofread, errors my own.

    A/N: This is based on the following ask from a wonderful Nonnie:

    Post premiere smut with Rafa 😏 some red carpet teasing maybe?

    Sorry it took me so long. We're on episode three! Anywho, I hope you like it Nonnie!

    ----------

    The weekend was wild.

    Rafael seemed sure of himself, but you knew the real story. He had never worked so hard to get something created. His soul was bound up in this work. And he was full of chaotic energy just finally getting to show the world what he and his friends created.

    It was a hella busy weekend, flying coast to coast, grabbing sleep when you could. You just stored up your thots for later, knowing he needed this nervous energy to push through.

    You loved how your man looked, and this premier tour was giving you ample opportunity to ogle him, along with everyone else.

    Rafa in that blue suit did something to you. Black shirt, white shoes. Buzz cut and beard. Holy hell he was hot.

    You were asleep as soon as you got in the car that night though, and Rafa just put you in bed in the hotel suite as he got busy playing hype man on social media.

    And of course, you got a spanking the last time you wore that Green A’s jacket, sneaking it out of his trailer without him knowing.

    Seeing him in it made you soaking wet with the memory of that night. The way he smirked at you while walking around in it told you he knew just what you were thinking.

    You got so blasted that night because you were with the homies, so you were in no condition to be taken advantage of.

    The final night of the premier weekend finally came, and you could tell that Rafa was exhaling. He was going to really celebrate tonight. And you were right by his side.

    Tonight he was wearing the two-tone Comme des Garçons suit. It was just delectable.

    Your gown matched his fly, and the only undergarment you were wearing was a black silk thong. You thought Rafael wasn’t paying attention as he fussed in the mirror getting ready, but you were wrong.

    Rafa held your hand as he advanced toward the red carpet. You looked up at him and squeezed his hand before you got separated at the press and the step and repeat.

    You watched him pose, and answer questions, smiling, laughing, and joking. He was in the zone, using his charm to hype up his project.

    Damn. What a man. You were turned on just looking at him.

    He and the cast went backstage to get ready to host the screening and answer questions. You were used to watching from afar.

    You wandered around the venue, talking to the usual suspects and inspecting all of the liquor bottles on the top shelf from your perch at the bar.

    Rafa texted you.

    Bored?

    You looked around and did not see him anywhere.

    Where are you?
    I’m stage left, waiting to go on, I see you counting bottles. Are you bored?

    You peered at the spot he indicated and saw him leaning against the wall. Fuck, he looked good. You straightened up as your heart started beating faster.

    I was, but not anymore.

    Rafael smirked at you, and then down at his phone

    Oh yea, well, why don’t you go take off that thong?

    You looked up at Rafa. He had his evil grin on. Your eyes grew wide and you hurriedly typed in your phone.

    WHAT?!?!?

    You looked back up at him when you sent the message.

    “Off,” he mouthed at you, then he held up his phone and started typing again.

    Scared?

    You loved a challenge. You looked him straight in the eye, got your purse, and asked the bartender where the bathroom was. You left and came back in three minutes.

    You chose at a table near the stage when you sat down again. Rafa was there with the cast, staring at you, watching you, and waiting to be introduced.

    You blew him a kiss. He subtly caught it underhanded, winked, and motioned as if he were putting it in his pocket.

    You were transfixed as Rafael hyped the show. Watching him work and listening to his voice was such a turn on. You were more than ready to go, sitting up and paying attention with your whole body.

    You crossed your legs, flashing the stage, and you caught Rafael lowkey checking to see if anyone else saw. You saw the flash in his eye and a little delicious shiver of fear ran through you. He did not miss a beat however, as he was staring right at the apex of your thighs, and he didn’t even pause as he spoke.

    You kept moving in your seat because it was getting unbearable. Finally, you stood up, crossed your legs, and leaned against the wall for support, still staring at Rafael. You had no idea what anyone else in the room was doing; it was like you were the only two people there.

    When Rafael left the stage again, he texted you almost immediately.

    I saw you squirming. Meet me in the restroom on the left side of the house in 10 minutes.

    Your pussy clenched as you read the text. You looked up and around the room. No one seemed to have any idea of what was about to happen. You watched the clock on your phone, the 10 minutes seeming to take forever.

    It was like you had super senses. You heard people laughing, phones dinging with notifications, and Rafa’s body calling you.

    When the time came, you picked up your bag and casually walked down the hall to your destination. You tried the knob and it was locked.

    “Rafa, it’s me.”

    The door opened and Rafael pulled you in quickly, and you laughed nervously at the sudden movement. He pinned you against the wall and kissed you well. He took his time to addle your senses with a kiss. That mouth did a lot.

    You took control, kissing him, and unbuttoning his shirt, liking his nipple and kissing down his chest and abs as you got on your knees to un button and unfasten his pants.

    His dick was not totally hard, but thick and waiting on his thigh. You deep throated it while looking up in his eyes.

    Rafael’s sea blues gazed down at you and he smiled while you pulled off and stroked him, spitting on his cock for lubrication.

    You were dripping as you sucked him a few more times for good measure, palming and rolling his balls. He moaned deep in his throat and placed his hand on your head.

    He started tugging you upwards and you pulled his dick with you as you stood back up. You pulled your dress up and sat on the vanity, pussy directly over the sink.

    You spread your legs as Rafa grasped your nipple through the slick fabric of your dress, then slid his hand down your belly to your cunt, using all four fingers to play in your pussy, dipping into your slick and coming up to circle, then brush your clit.

    You could feel him releasing his frenetic pent up energy on you; all of the tension leading up to tonight was going to benefit you greatly.

    Rafa surprised you by getting on his knees himself to taste you a little, licking your cunt, his nose in the center of your mound. He stood suddenly to take his jacket and shirt off, then got back on his knees, opening your legs wide and holding on to them, as your ass was falling into the bowl of the sink.

    He started eating seriously then, diving in and bringing you to the edge of heaven, over and over again, but never quite letting you come. You bit your lip, moaned and wiggled in his clutch, and he smiled up at you, eyes sparkling at your vexation.

    He brought his hand up and dipped his fingers in again, gathering some of your slick, and used it to lubricate his cock as he jacked off a bit. Rafael immersed himself in you, lapping you up and turning his head as he made out with your pussy.

    You were so wet that by the time that he stood up to line himself up, he slid in easily and started pumping into you with no hands. He held them up like he was doing a trick on a bicycle, and the cocky muthafucka smirked at you as you looked up at him, mouth open and panting for more.

    You reached for his ass as you wanted him to quit teasing you and ram you fully. Instead, he grabbed your hips, and you leaned back into the mirror, running your hands up his arms and down his torso again.

    He gathered your knees in his arms, brought you closer and started pounding you harder, just as you wished. You moaned, your eyes rolling as your head lolled back against the mirror, and Rafa clapped his hand over your mouth.

    He kissed your forehead as you continued to shake and moan in his arms, then he picked you fully up by your thighs and started bouncing you up and down his dick before depositing you back down on the vanity.

    He pulled out and turned you around, pounding you and reaching around you to finger your clit until you came, his hand firmly muffling your noises.

    But Rafael wasn’t finished. He leaned against the wall, and pulled you with him, his arm clutching your neck and holding your back flush against his chest, spearing his rock hard dick inside you.

    The first time either of you spoke was for you to protest to him.

    “Rafa… no… I - I can’t… not again.”

    Rafa pulled you tighter against him and whispered in your ear.

    “Yes you can, beautiful. And you will.”

    He started moving again, squeezing your neck and flicking your over sensitive clit with his other hand. You quivered with overstimulation, but couldn’t help but fuck yourself back on his cock until you were close to coming again.

    You put your hand over your mouth to stop the noise, but the slapping of your bodies was almost as loud as your noises.

    You came and then Rafael stilled to stave off his orgasm. He bent his head toward you, forehead at the top of your spine as he breathed and tried to calm down. You slipped off his cock, the slippery wetness of you resonating in the room.

    You wanted to celebrate him and his accomplishments, show Rafael how special he was. He was still hard, so you pushed him back, got on your knees again and sucked him off, tasting yourself on him, Rafa watching you in the mirror as he massaged your scalp.

    You looked up at him as you stroked him off and sucked him, going deeper each time he moaned. He was staring at you with those eyes. That and his sounds kept you going and you felt his ball tighten.

    “Shhhhhitttttt! You are so fucking good at this. You ready for it babe?”

    Rafa was trying to stay cool, but he was making that cum face that you loved. You smiled and nodded up at him, opening your mouth as he took over and spurted streams of cum at you.

    “Now swallow like the Good Girl you are.”

    You did as you were told and then leaned forward to clean him up, hollowing your cheeks again and causing his knees to get weak.

    “Damn, girl. You are a fucking big brain geniusssss. Shit!”

    Rafa slumped against the wall as you rose from your knees, a pro still in your heels. You got cleaned up at the sink, and he opened his eyes and smacked your ass as you fixed your face and pulled down your dress.

    He put his clothes back on, made sure he was still fly and then pulled you to him, kissing your forehead again, sweetly now.

    “Thank you for being my ride or die. I couldn't have done any of this without you.”

    You shook your head and began to protest.

    “Shhh. I’m dead serious. You are my rock, my calm in the storm. I love you girl.”

    You melted on the inside, but were still very aware that he was technically still working.

    “I love you too, but before you sail out back into them rocky producing waters, give me back my panties.”

    You held out your hand and smirked at him.

    “Nah girl. You go out here with me commando, and remember just what that boat do.”

    And Rafael pulled you laughing back out into the premier event, happy to be riding the waves with him.

    ---------

    My first fic in a while (for me). Let me know what you think.

    Tag List:

    @braidedchallah @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @anh1020 @sillyteecup @ohsoverykeri @theselilwonders @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @janthonybitch

    #rafael casal #rafael casal x reader #ask dj #rafael santiago casal #rafael casal fanfiction #rafael casal imagine #rafael casal smut #Rafael Casal x you
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  • dramioneasks
    26.06.2021 - 3 weeks ago

    For Him - QueenieBlood - M, WIP - "All I want is a normal life, is that too much to ask for?"Five years is a long time to be heartbroken. Within those five years Hermione becomes transfixed in a mundane world all for the sake of healing her broken heart. What happens when she crosses paths with Draco Malfoy, who's in desperate need of help?

    #author: QueenieBlood#healing#teaching/tutoring #hurt and comfort #luna#ron#malfoy manor#blaise#george#ginny#harry#meet again#WIP #draco is hermione's boss #scorpius#anti harry #side pairing: ron x luna #side pairing: hermione x harry
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  • lux-i-fer
    24.06.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Believer of Faith and Mortality

    Ao3 link

    Synopsis: Lucifer and Chloe's victim shouldn't be alive, but the fact that he's currently alive and giving a statement says otherwise. When more and more miracle cases begin popping up, Lucifer believes that their lives aren't being spared out of the goodness of his Father's heart. The knock at the door only proves his theory.

    Rating: M

    Notes: HAHA HEYYYY! Guess who got the chapter out in under a year?? My most sincere apologies that this fic has been updating so slowly, I am just at that time in my life where everything requires my attention all at once and all the time. Never fear, I have not forgotten about this fic ;) This is unbetaed because in the year of our lord 2021, I have lost all hope in producing properly edited work.

    Chapter Number: 6

    For a few heavy seconds, the entire world shrank down to fit solely into Lucifer’s palm. The silence was almost suffocating as Amenadiel, Lucifer, and John stared at the silver phlegm dripping from Lucifer’s outstretched hand. Even outside of the harsh California sunlight, it still looked metallic and even glimmered like the chrome finishings on his Corvette. John found it almost blinding to look at directly, but there was a nagging feeling inside of him that demanded that he continue to look. The first time he’d seen it on Lucifer’s handkerchief, he’d only gotten a mere glance before Lucifer had hurriedly tucked it out of sight. Perhaps for him it was also supposed to be out of mind, but not for John. John was transfixed.

    Looking at it now, he realized that it wasn’t really silver colored. Even though he never tore his eyes from it, it seemed to shift to a different color at the blink of an eye, changing so fast that it blurred together into one solid gray mass. And he found that it wasn't so much as metallic as it was almost lit by a soft inner light. John leaned forward, curious to see if there truly was something there or if he was imagining it.

    A hand caught his shoulder and then the rest of the world seemed to snap back into focus. John blinked and when he opened his eyes, Amenadiel stood between him and Lucifer.

    “Did you hear anything I just said to you?” he asked. There was a heavy set of wrinkles above his brow that hadn’t been there at the start of their visit.

    John blinked again. He felt a little dazed, and found that he couldn’t quite focus in on the rest of Amenadiel’s face. “No?” His voice came out slow and slurred.

    Amenadiel frowned. “Okay, why don’t you--” he walked the both of them backwards out of the kitchen until the backs of John’s legs knocked against the edge of a chair, “sit down.”

    John did as he was told and then put his head in his hands. He had a roaring headache.

    “So,” he heard Amenadiel say. “As I said before, will someone please tell me what is going on?”

    “Apparently zombies,” John muttered, massaging the space between his eyes.

    “Well, you’re not actual zombies,” Lucifer corrected. “You’re more...undead than anything. If I didn’t know better I’d say that you lot were resurrected, but our Father does not lower himself to dabble in those sorts of miracles anymore.” Even with his eyes closed, John could practically feel the eye roll in his voice.

    “No, I meant how long has this been going on.” John looked up to find Amenadiel gesturing to the silver liquid that Lucifer was trying in vain to mop up with his handkerchief.

    Lucifer shook his head. “Not long. Just today. Surely it’s nothing.”

    Amenadiel looked to John for confirmation.

    John shrugged. “I’ve only been here a day, but I guess it lines up? He coughed some of it up on our way here.”

    Amenadiel nodded solemnly, while Lucifer shot him a dirty look, the unspoken accusation of traitor hanging in the air. “It’s not that big a deal,” he sniffed. “Whatever it is, surely it’ll sort itself out. There’s no need to coddle me, Amenadiel, my mortality stint ended ages ago.”

    John stilled. “Your what?”

    Lucifer waved him off, flicking a few silver droplets in his direction. One managed to hit Amenadiel in the chest and his face crumpled up in disgust. “Luci, do everyone else a favor and wash your hands. For all we know this could be contagious.”

    John silently agreed. As if the headache wasn’t already making him nauseous, now he was picturing Lucifer as some sort of supernatural Typhoid Mary. Even though he’d seen some pretty nasty stuff during his time as a beat cop, John had always been a bit of a hypochondriac. Not in any serious sense, but realizing that Lucifer could potentially be hacking up the divine equivalent of a ball of mucus and phlegm definitely made his stomach twist.

    Lucifer scoffed, but surprisingly listened to his brother. John sent a silent thanks to God, but stopped halfway through his prayer when he realized that he just may be better off directing it at Amenadiel instead. If Lucifer was to be believed, which John still had a healthy amount of skepticism for, Nietzsche had been right. In all the ways that mattered, God was as good as dead. Between the headache and the whole coming back to life thing, John really didn’t want to unpack that existential crisis right now.

    “Is that a thing?” he asked instead. “Can you guys get the celestial flu or something?”

    Lucifer sighed. “Don’t be silly, Jonathan. Angels can’t get sick.”

    “Well clearly you are, so that can’t be entirely true.”

    “John has a point, Luci. Whatever this is, it shouldn’t be happening.” Amenadiel turned to John. “And whatever is going on with souls crossing back over the threshold shouldn’t be happening either. It would be foolish to assume that these two events coinciding is a mere coincidence. I’d like to hear more about how you got back to Earth, John. I have a feeling that Luci has omitted some key details.”

    At that, Lucifer tightened his hand around his glass of whiskey. At some point he’d poured himself glass number four, making John certain that he would be DD’ing the Devil himself back to Chloe’s apartment later.

    “I don’t think I’m the best one to ask about details.” The image of Lucifer’s wrist covered in “souvenirs” flashed through John’s mind. “If anything, we were coming to you for some answers. All I know is that one second I’m in Limbo with this jackass,” he jerked a thumb in Lucifer’s direction, “and the next my daughter is telling me that I’ve been dead for nearly twenty years.”

    “Limbo?” Amenadiel asked incredulously. “What ever were you doing there? Human souls are not supposed to go there.”

    “Well I did. Lucifer told me that others go there too.”

    Amenadiel looked at Lucifer.

    “Times have changed, brother. Humans have more fight in them now, and Azrael has a shorter temper than she used to. Humans still condemn themselves to their respective eternities, but if they are particularly wily and combative when Azrael sees them off, sometimes she doesn’t see the job through. Usually they make it where they need to go without her guidance, but occasionally they do not. Those who don’t end up in Limbo.” Lucifer inclined his head in John’s direction, as if to give an example.

    Amenadiel didn’t look convinced. “How could John have been in Limbo if he recalls seeing you? How are you certain that it wasn’t Hell?”

    “It wasn’t Hell,” Lucifer said sharply, catching both Amenadiel and John off guard. John wasn’t sure what had just happened, but whatever Amenadiel had implied was obviously a touchy subject.

    Lucifer stared at them for a moment, dark eyes unblinking and tracking their reactions like a predator. Then he sighed, and his shoulders relaxed, as if a great weight had dragged them down. His fingers worried his cufflinks again.

    “Hell isn’t my only domain. Technically Dad also cursed me with that Dad-forsaken wasteland, but I hardly visited. It was a nice getaway when Hell became too much to bear, but it was just as undesirable in different ways.” Lucifer paused then. His eyes had grown distant, and his jaw was set. His hands flitted back to his glass.

    “Do you remember our fallen brethren?” he said, his voice small.

    Amenadiel’s brow furrowed at the subject change. “Of course, Luci.”

    Lucifer continued to stare into his glass. “I wasn’t the only one who changed after I Fell. Our siblings, the ones that eventually fell too, they burned just as I did. After I had managed to pull myself out of the Lake of Fire, I gave the ones whose minds hadn’t completely shattered during the process positions within my court. They were, after all, family.” He chuckled humorlessly.

    “In light of my recent sins, nepotism seemed like the least of my concerns at that point. I was correct, to some degree. Over time, most of the fallen grew twisted and corrupted by sin and they became a new breed of demon--an archduke-- but there were others who never recovered from the Fall. Something within them had broken. They weren’t quite demons and they certainly were not angels, either. They were, for lack of better description, mutilated. Inside and out. Their minds were fractured and their bodies, well--”

    Lucifer’s form contorted like a tv glitch. Where his face should have been was replaced with something scarred and horrifying. It vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, but it didn’t matter because John had seen. Lucifer’s regular face was back, but John saw it with new clarity. Even before, he would freely admit that Lucifer was beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, but it was a different beauty now. Now the sculpted angles of his face looked cruel and alien.

    He didn’t think there were words to describe the primal sense of fear he had felt upon seeing it. It was like an echo of the morning’s conversation, when he’d discovered the name of the angel that had guided him through Limbo. He wanted to bolt like a spooked horse and run and run until he was certain that Lucifer would never find him. John’s heart raced, but his fear kept him rooted in his chair. He knew he should calm down. He had to calm down. His head felt like it was going to explode. John groaned and put his head back in his hands.

    “Jonathan.”

    John’s head snapped back up, bringing a wave of dizziness along with it. His heart seized when he realized that Lucifer was staring straight at him. The afterimage of his burned face lingered in John’s mind’s eye, and it was almost impossible for him to look at Lucifer at all.

    “Do not go breaking on me now. The Detective will be very upset with me if you do.” His tone was blasé, but John saw a glint of uncertainty in his eye. Was Lucifer upset by his reaction? Why would the Devil even feel that way? John searched his shark-eyes for an answer.

    Shockingly, Lucifer was the one to look away first. He returned his attention to his glass for a second time before continuing his explanation.

    “The other fallen--the ones driven mad by the Fall-- were little more than rabid dogs, and they had developed an insatiable hunger for divine flesh. I suppose in human terms you would say they became cannibals, but such a human concept does not do their transformation justice. They were truly beastly, mere husks of angels and mutated beyond any demon.” John shuddered as he remembered the feeling of claws tracing along his cheek. Beastly indeed.

    “So I locked them up,” Lucifer proclaimed. “I had the archdukes assist me in rounding them up and throwing them into Limbo. There they could live freely, on a separate plane away from Heaven and Hell, and out of my hair. I would only visit occasionally, like I said, for peace and quiet and to make sure that they were behaving.”

    The room dissolved into silence once again. Amenadiel seemed to still be processing the information, and John was trying his best not to pass out from pain or fear. He still wasn’t sure which would eventually win out. He supposed by the way his skull felt like it was getting a forced lobotomy he would have to say it was going to be the pain.

    Amenadiel finally cleared his throat. “So if I understand you correctly, you have been completely aware that these...creatures have been running amuck in Limbo, and yet you continue to let them roam, even though they're torturing innocent souls?”

    In an instant, Lucifer slammed his hands onto the counter. John flinched as the sound ricocheted through his head like a massive bell. Amenadiel stood, unflinching, his face contorted into a stony mask. Lucifer’s eyes blazed and his lips curled back into a snarl. In that moment he looked every bit of the razor-sharp angel that had plucked John from the clutches of his cannibalistic siblings.

    “Do not twist my words, Amenadiel, and do not criticize that which you do not know. I made the best of a bad hand. I dredged the land for lost souls as often as I could, but there was only so much I could do. And make no mistake, not all of the souls I found were innocent. I spared rapists and murderers from the clutches of our deranged siblings just as often as I pulled out martyred cops and saints. They all got the justice they deserved, and I carried it out like a good little son.”

    At that, Lucifer turned on his heel and busied himself with something on the other side of the kitchen. Amenadiel simply watched his brother sulk and sighed heavily. “Luci,” he said to the Devil sulking in the kitchen. “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to pin the blame on you. I jumped to conclusions.”

    Lucifer turned back to face them, face drained of any prior anger. “Damn right you did.”

    “But,” Amenadiel continued, pointing a finger at Lucifer. “My initial point still stands. It’s obvious that these creatures are dangerous, and yet they roam freely in Limbo. The last interaction you had with John was in the presence of these creatures. Isn’t there a possibility that your illness and John’s return to Earth are linked? They feed on the divine, and you said it yourself that none of the other resurrections occurred more than a day following their initial death.”

    “That’s just it,” John chimed in. “Technically, it’s been twenty-or-so years since I saw Lucifer in Limbo. It may have only felt like a couple hours for me, but I imagine for him…” He waved his hand in lieu of finishing his thought.

    “Yes, Jonathan is correct. In fact, I forgot about your existence entirely until you started threatening me over breakfast this morning.” Lucifer clapped his hands together. “At any rate, I think we can surmise that whatever this silver nonsense is, it is most certainly a fluke. If these events were truly connected then I would have gotten ill two decades ago. Nothing to do with Johnathan. Nothing to worry about. The resurrections on the other hand...” he shrugged.

    “I don’t think we should discount the idea,” John cut in again. “Amenadiel’s right, it’s stupid to overlook the possibility. For now, I suppose we can put a pin in it, but it shouldn’t be off the table completely.”

    Lucifer shot him an annoyed look. “Fine, whatever. Gang up on me, then.”

    “Luci, we’re trying to help,” Amenadiel chided. Lucifer just rolled his eyes.

    “The other bodies reeked of Heaven,” he started again, changing the subject. “I don’t know why or how, but they do, and it’s positively unbearable.”

    John didn’t know Heaven even had a smell, but Amenadiel nodded like he understood. “I don’t have an answer or even an idea of how to explain that facet of this mystery. I would have to go to the Silver City to find out any more information.”

    Lucifer considered Amenadiel’s proposition for a moment. He finished off the rest of his drink and glanced around the room. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked. “We’re in a time crunch, the sooner the better!” Dropping his empty glass into the sink, Lucifer swept out of the kitchen and towards the door. He turned back to face John and Amenadiel, a hand poised on the door handle. “Brother, I’ll be expecting your answer shortly.” Then he gestured to John. “Are you coming?”

    John just sighed and hauled himself out of the chair. It took some effort to get his bearings, and when he finally did he stuck out his hand for Amenadiel to shake once more. Amenadiel inclined his head towards John and offered him a genuine smile.

    “It was very nice to meet you, John Decker. Chloe speaks very highly of you. I can see now that her stories ring truthfully. You're a good man.”

    John returned the smile, wincing as the pain in his head worsened with the movement. “Well I don’t know about that, but thank you. It was nice to meet you too.”

    Before John could say anything else, Amenadiel dropped his hand and simply disappeared into thin air. John stared stupidly at the spot the angel had been occupying just a few moments before. He wasn’t sure what just happened, but at this point, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to find out.

    Lucifer made an impatient sound from his place at the door. “Jonathan, you’re dallying. Are you going to stare off into space for the entire day?”

    John shook himself and started towards the door. “Yeah, yeah, calm down I’m coming.”

    When they reached the parking lot, John ignored the pain in his head and made a b-line for the driver’s side door, just barely sliding his body between it and Lucifer’s hand reaching for the handle.

    “Give me your keys,” he said, making sure to use his no-bullshit cop voice.

    “No.” Lucifer tried to wiggle his way around John, but John stood firm.

    “You just drank four glasses of hard alcohol, I’m not letting you drive drunk through downtown LA.” Lucifer only continued to wiggle and try to squirm his way around John. Fuck, did he ever stop moving? John caught Lucifer’s arm as he tried to reach for something in the car. “Seriously, Lucifer, stop. I don’t care that you’re the Devil, you’re not driving.”

    As weird as it felt to say that, there was truth in John’s words. His fear over seeing Lucifer’s other face had almost entirely dissipated.

    “I’m not intoxicated, I have a supernatural metabolism!” He wiggled his arm out of John’s grasp and leaned around him to grab whatever it was that he had been trying to get from the car. When he found it, Lucifer handed the mystery item to John. It was a breathalyzer. Police issued. Most likely Chloe’s, John thought. When John did nothing with it, Lucifer pushed it and the hand holding it to John’s chest.

    “Test me,” he said. “If I blow under the legal limit, I drive. If I blow over, which I won’t, you can drive. Deal?”

    John sighed. He knew Lucifer was trying to compromise, but it didn’t change the fact that John’s patience had been steadily declining since Lucifer had decided to drag him all over the city. “Fine,” he said, exasperated and desperately wishing for somewhere to lie down.

    He quickly set up the breathalyzer, his muscle memory taking over for him. Through some small miracle, Lucifer took the test without complaint. John had expected the meter to read at least an .09, but he was dumbfounded when he saw the 0.00 staring back at him.

    “Holy shit,” he mumbled. He gave the breathalyzer a little shake just to make sure it had gotten the right reading. The numbers remained unchanged.

    Lucifer smirked. “Can we get on with things, then?”

    On a day when John’s head wasn’t killing him, he would have asked for a retest, just to ensure that Lucifer hadn’t somehow rigged it in his favor. But John was exhausted and it was almost impossible to fake something like a breathalyzer, especially one that he himself had administered, so he decided to just let it slide. After all, it wasn’t like he was in any better condition to drive.

    Wordlessly, John stepped out of the way and climbed into the passenger seat. Lucifer gave a victorious whoop and threw himself into the car. Another twinge of pain drilled through John’s skull and he winced away from his companion.

    Now that he could take a moment to just breathe, John could finally acknowledge that he didn’t feel like himself. He felt feverish. Or high. He’d never been high to know what that felt like though. His forehead felt like it was about to split open like an egg, and he brought a hand up to touch it, just to make sure that no cracks had started to form. When he felt nothing, he squeezed his eyes shut and flopped back against the seat, wondering why Lucifer hadn’t driven off yet.

    “Lucifer, why aren’t we moving?” he muttered, politeness thrown by the wayside.

    “Because you’re doing a rather dramatic imitation of a dying raccoon. I don’t know much about humans, but I know enough to recognize that this isn’t normal behavior.” John must be hallucinating because Lucifer’s voice almost sounded caring. He told him as such.

    Lucifer scoffed and finally shifted the car into gear. They drove in silence for about ten minutes before he spoke again. “It is possible that your body isn’t as stable as we initially thought.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “It’s either that or your soul is unstable. Either way, something, besides the obvious, is not right. I have a feeling this headache of yours has been triggered by some imbalance. Whether that imbalance is in your mind, body, soul, or if my Father has decided to restitch the fabric of the universe, I cannot say for certain. The easiest way to solve it would be to return you back to your prior state.”

    “My prior state, as in dead, right?”

    Lucifer hummed, a nonanswer. That was all John needed to know that he’d been correct.

    “Hey, please tell me we’re going back to Chloe’s?” he said, changing the subject. “It would really make her upset if we’re not there when she gets off work.”

    “Ah, actually we won’t beat the Detective home.”

    John sat straight up, whipping his head towards Lucifer. “What do you mean we’re not making it home before Chloe?”

    Lucifer waved his hand absently. “Well you’ve lived in LA, you know how the traffic can be. Plus, we wasted more time than I had anticipated at Amenadiel’s.”

    John sputtered and checked his watch. “But it’s like four in the afternoon. Even with traffic it won’t take us that long to get to her apartment, and the LAPD doesn’t usually let cops off until five at the earliest.”

    “And you’d be correct; however, we’re not going to the Detective’s apartment straight away.”

    “Where could we possibly be going?” John threw his hands up in the air because the alternative was to wrap them around Lucifer’s throat to choke some sense into him.

    “I planned on stopping to grab something to eat, since I’m famished and surely you are too, considering we skipped lunch and barely had breakfast. I figured if we aren’t going to beat the Detective home we might as well show up with something to soften the blow. It’s easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission, you know.”

    Lucifer shrugged. “Besides, it’s likely that she won’t be in a good mood anyways. I missed a call from her around noon, and about an hour ago she texted me saying that she wasn’t feeling well and was thinking about taking off of work early.”

    “Did you call her back?” John asked.

    “Call who back?”

    John stared at him, bewildered. “Chloe. You said she tried to call you. Is she okay?” John’s outrage had been building slowly over the course of the day, but it had skyrocketed more in the last ten minutes than it had in the past few hours. He’d kept himself in check so far, but he wasn’t sure if he could hold it back if Lucifer insisted on being this much of an idiot.

    “Oh. No, I didn’t return her call. I’m sure she’s fine, though.”

    Something in John’s chest shifted. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he exploded. “First, she tells you not to leave the house, and the first thing you do is immediately go against her wishes. Then, you don’t even have the audacity to return her phone call? You’re acting like such an asshole. I love Chloe and I respect her, but I don’t know what she sees in you. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t deserve her.”

    Lucifer stilled. His fingers stopped on the steering wheel mid-drum, and if not for the wind whipping at his clothes, John would have thought that he was made of stone. A drop of fear slid down John’s spine as the weight of his actions settled into his bones. He may have gotten over the initial shock of seeing Lucifer’s true face, but that still didn’t change the fact that he’d just screamed at the Devil. No, not even that, he’d just screamed at Chloe’s boyfriend. Partner. Whatever he was. Someone important to her.

    But just because Chloe cares for him didn’t mean that he didn’t deserve it , a voice whispered in the back of his head.

    For a moment, John thought Lucifer wasn’t going to respond, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a poisonous smirk.

    “You know, the Detective always told me that you were a soft spoken man,” Lucifer said.

    John clenched his jaw at the perceived taunt. He turned to fully face Lucifer to give him another piece of his mind, but stopped mid-breath when he saw his face. Lucifer was purposely not looking John’s way, gaze fixed on the road ahead of them. He wasn’t really looking at the road, though, John thought. Even with half of his face obscured, John could tell that he was looking past it and into some distant memory instead, the same soft smile he’d given Chloe the night before playing across his lips. It was an abrupt change from how he’d been just a minute before: flippant, callous, ancient.

    John deflated instantly. “I’m under a lot of stress right now,” he replied dumbly. It was all he could think to say.

    Lucifer drove on silently. He still did not look John’s way.

    “I know being stressed is no excuse for how short I’ve been with you today, but this is a lot for me to take in. I was never the atheist that Chloe turned out to be, but I was never truly a believer either. God, Heaven, you, it’s overwhelming. Not only that but Chloe--” John’s voice broke when he pictured his little girl as the twenty-something he left behind. He cleared his throat, trying to beat down the rising wave of emotion. “I didn’t get to help her move into her first apartment, I didn’t get to give her away at her wedding, I’ve never even gotten to hold my granddaughter,” he said quietly. “She grew up without me and I’m angry with myself for letting it happen. Seeing you with her, you being there for her when I couldn’t, it’s hard.”

    That was the ugly feeling that had been sitting in John’s chest all day. That was the thing that couldn’t be packed away into a neat, little mental box to be dealt with at a later date. No matter how many times he’d tried to compartmentalize it, it always came back with full force. He knew it was the reason he was acting so caustically towards Lucifer, but it was as if his time in Limbo had tainted him in some way. It was almost as if simply brushing against those sinful beasts had made him into one too, teeming with new and nasty habits. The very thought left an equally nasty taste in his mouth.

    He was used to dealing with jealousy. Penny had groupies and superfans just like any other actress of her day, and it had never bothered him before. He’d always trusted her. Now he found himself unable to bury the jealousy like he had before his death. It was embarrassing to admit. John had never wanted to be one of those overbearing and overprotective fathers.

    He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, Lucifer navigating them through the maze of LA highways, and John lost in thought. The car coasted along an exit ramp, and as they entered back into the city, Lucifer broke the silence.

    “My Father was not the kind of father that you were--that you are,” he amended. “He wasn’t kind or nurturing or any of those things. In fact, He was quite harsh with my siblings and me at times. The last conversation we had was the shouting match that eventually got me condemned to Hell.”

    John wasn’t sure where Lucifer was going with his anecdote, but he remained silent, just as the other man had when he’d vented out his own feelings.

    “Even in the midst of my anger, even when I would scream my throat raw yelling obscenities at Him from down below, some part of me still loved Him and wanted Him to love me in return. I hated that part of myself for centuries. He was my punisher and my jailer, and yet, I still couldn’t rid myself of the longing to be recognized as His son.

    “You and the Detective don’t have that kind of relationship, obviously, but I say all of this so that you’ll understand and believe me when I say that the Detective loves you very much. There are very few things that you could do as a parent to make her stop caring for you. Not even death could sever her heart from yours. She has made her peace with your passing, and for both her sake and yours, Jonathan, you should too. If you don’t, your guilt will condemn you to Hell. That’s how the system works; humans choose their own fate, no Devilish temptation required.”

    Lucifer grimaced at his poor attempt at a joke. Then, he glanced over at John, as if to gauge his reaction to something. “Amenadiel was correct; you’re a good man and a good father,” he said, eyes drifting back to the road. “You don’t deserve the torment that awaits you there.”

    His words echoed in John’s mind. You don’t deserve the torment that awaits you there.

    “I’m sorry that I said you don’t deserve Chloe. That was wrong of me,” John said. “It’s not up for me to decide.”

    Lucifer made some noncommittal noise.

    “We got off on the wrong foot, and I genuinely want to try and get to know you properly.” John hesitated. “If you’ll let me,” he added almost too quietly to be heard over the wind.

    Lucifer sighed his back-breaking sigh. “I suppose we can start over.”

    At his affirmation, the ugly feeling in his chest subsided. “Good,” he nodded. “I’m glad.”

    “But,” Lucifer stuck a finger up in the air, as if preparing to give another monologue. “Just because we’re “starting over” doesn’t mean that I’ll completely stop tormenting you, Jonathan. You’re far too entertaining when your brain is on the verge of melting.”

    Lucifer’s tone was light and any malice it may have contained before had been replaced by a vibrant playfulness. John couldn’t fight back the smile on his face.

    “Well as Chloe’s father, it is my job to give you a hard time, so I’ve got some tormenting of my own to do too.”

    Lucifer chuckled. “I’m the Devil, darling. I’d love to see you try to get under my skin.”

    “I’ve got a few cards up my sleeve,” John said. “You never know what might happen.”

    Lucifer didn’t respond to that, but a sly smile had plastered itself to his face.

    He guided the Corvette down a maze of one-ways, and five minutes later, they slowed to a stop and parked on a quiet street. As John took in the sun-bleached storefronts and crumbling fire escapes, he thought nothing of their location. It was only when he caught sight of a beat up dirt green sign boasting Marisol’s Flower Arrangements that John realized where they were.

    “I died at a corner store about a block from here,” he said numbly, all traces of playful teasing draining away. They’d parked too far down the block for John to properly see the store, but he didn’t need a visual, the image of it was burned in his memory.

    Lucifer got out of the car. “I know. I parked a block away for a reason. The Detective always says that you shouldn’t let victims see their crime scenes unless they specifically ask to. Something to do with shock or trauma.”

    “So why bring us here at all?” John asked, though he already knew the answer. He was just surprised that Chloe still came here after everything that had happened with the shooting.

    “Like I said, the Detective doesn’t hate you,” Lucifer replied with a knowing look. He tossed John the car keys. “I’ll be back shortly.”

    Lucifer was true to his word, returning only ten minutes later with a takeout bag. When he got back in the car, he traded it for his keys. As they drove back through the city, John tried his best to ignore the bag on his lap. The heat from the food radiated through the cheap paper and into his skin like a persistent house cat kneading at his lap. He hated to think what would happen when he opened the bag. These sandwiches hadn’t just been Chloe’s favorite, once they were his favorite too. He feared that when he would eventually unwrap the foil, he wouldn’t be able to stomach them.

    Secretly, John was glad that Lucifer hadn’t expected him to walk into that corner store. He was almost certain if he had, he would have ended up on the tile floor retching at the smell of grease and sweat. He’d choked on that scent as he laid with a bullet in his chest. He could only hope that he wouldn’t choke on the food when it came time to eat it.

    John thought back to a time when he had gagged on black tar and maggots instead of grease and blood. He swallowed hard; an echo of oil slid down the back of his throat. Or maybe it was crawling back up. Maybe John would wake the next morning and find that whatever horrors he’d tasted in Limbo were festering inside of him like he was John Hurt in Alien . He supposed if that were true, then it was only a matter of time before it tore through his chest. John shuddered. He absentmindedly touched the space over his heart, as if it too was going to burst out of his chest.

    The rest of the drive back to Chloe’s apartment was silent, and neither he nor Lucifer seemed to mind. For John, it was even a welcome reprieve from the madness that was his resurrection and a quiet moment before the inevitable emotional explosion waiting for them at the apartment.

    His suspicions were only confirmed when the Corvette pulled into the parking lot. Chloe already had the door open and was standing in the doorframe with her arms crossed. He couldn’t completely make out her features from where they were parked, but John was sure when they got close enough her brows would be scrunched up in an exact replica of Penny’s when she was upset.

    Lucifer killed the engine and jumped out of the car. His hands immediately flitted to his cufflinks and then on to smoothing invisible lines in his jacket. At least he was smart enough to be a little nervous, John thought.

    “Detective!” Lucifer said when they got to the door. “We bought dinner!”

    Chloe’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “What happened to not leaving the apartment?” she demanded.

    Lucifer snatched the takeout bag from John’s grasp and held it up as if it explained everything. By the way her eye twitched, Chloe was not impressed.

    “Is that the only place you went?” she demanded again.

    Lucifer thrust the takeout bag back into John’s hands and flashed her a nervous smile.

    “No,” John said flatly.

    “Lucifer!”

    Lucifer only flapped his hands and slipped past Chloe into the apartment. “It was just to see Linda and Amenadiel!” he called over his shoulder.

    Chloe took a deep breath. She sagged against the doorframe, her shoulders tight with tension. “Dad, wherever he dragged you to, I’m sorry. It’s my fault for thinking that Lucifer could stay still and listen for more than a half hour.” She said the last bit a little louder, casting her gaze over her shoulder and making sure the man in question had heard them.

    “It’s fine, monkey,” John said, drawing her attention back. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to keep us here. I shouldn’t have gone along with it.”

    Finally, Chloe pushed herself off of the doorframe and allowed him to pass. “You shouldn’t have even had to argue to stay here,” she said as he walked past her. Even with his back to her, John could tell she was staring daggers at Lucifer while he busied himself with setting the table.

    Just like he had that morning before Chloe had gone to work, John felt out of his element. It was easier for him to interact with Lucifer and Chloe separately. They represented vastly different periods of his life, or death, in Lucifer’s case. With them separated from each other, John could almost pretend that he was still living a normal life. When he was with Chloe, he could ignore his death. When he was with Lucifer, John could accept it head-on. But when they were together, it was difficult. He felt every inch the man lost in time when he saw them together.

    All of these thoughts ran through John’s head in under a few seconds, but the existential discomfort of it all made it feel like an eternity.

    “Here, I’ll take that from you, Dad,” Chloe said, appearing at his shoulder.

    Mechanically, he handed the takeout bag to her, and then went to hang his borrowed jacket back on the hook. Task complete, John turned back to the table, still unsure what he should be doing. He watched Chloe open the bag, as if ready to divvy up their early dinner, and then stop. Her head snapped up to look across the table where Lucifer was pouring their drinks.

    “It’s been a stressful two days, I knew you would like to have them,” he said, not looking up.

    Lucifer finished filling the third glass in silence. When Chloe still hadn’t responded, he finally met her gaze. John didn’t know what he found there, her back was still to him, but Lucifer’s shoulders hunched.

    “Did I get it wrong?” he asked, seemingly folding in on himself in a way that John didn’t know was possible.

    “No. You didn’t. Thank you,” she replied softly. “But did you--?”

    “No!” Lucifer waved his hand vehemently. “He stayed in the Corvette.”

    Chloe nodded, and it was as if that motion cued all the others back to normal. She began setting their food onto plates, and Lucifer fluttered back into the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Slowly, John walked up to the table.

    “Can I help with anything?”

    “Don’t worry about it,” Chloe said, balling up the empty takeout bag, “everything’s already done. Just take a seat.”

    He reluctantly did as he was told. He stared at his foil-wrapped sandwich until Lucifer and Chloe sat across from him a moment later. The placement reminded him a bit like an interrogation. In some sense, John thought, perhaps it was. He could tell that Chloe had bitten her tongue about them disobeying her orders today. Surely, it wouldn’t be long before she started fishing for details.

    “So,” Chloe began, unwrapping her sandwich. “You went to see Linda and Amenadiel.”

    Lucifer took a long sip of wine. “Yes, not that they were any help.”

    “Lucifer wanted to look for answers,” John put in, trying to be helpful.

    Chloe glanced between the two of them. “What kind of answers?”

    “Answers that would help us figure out what in Dad’s name is going on, of course,” Lucifer said.

    She raised an eyebrow. “And? What did you find out?”

    John was thankful when Lucifer launched into a recount of the day's activities. He loved Chloe, but he simply hadn’t been in the mood to talk since they’d picked up dinner. Speaking of dinner, he glanced down at his untouched sandwich. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to eat, it was just that he was afraid of what would happen when he did. He knew he was going to have to eat it eventually, or else Chloe would start to get suspicious. The last thing John wanted to do was cause her any more stress.

    He forced himself to unwrap his sandwich. Chloe was busy listening to Lucifer, but her eyes were fixed on John the moment he’d begun to remove the foil. With her watching, there was little he could do besides take a bite. Much to his relief, he did not taste tar or ash. It tasted the same as he remembered--rich, greasy, fattening. Even still, it turned his stomach, John realized with dismay.

    Under Chloe’s watchful eye, he fought through the nausea and forced down another bite. The ends of her mouth quirked up in the ghost of a smile. Seemingly satisfied with what she saw, Chloe turned back to Lucifer.

    It hit him that for her, this was the first time in roughly two decades that they were sharing these sandwiches. In that moment, it was as if their lives had simply picked up from where they’d left off. Had John never been shot, this was what he would have done that night. Instead of choking on his own blood, he would have been up late at the kitchen table, eating these exact sandwiches with Chloe, and then sending her quietly off to bed afterwards.

    John finished his sandwich. His stomach twisted itself into new shapes each time he swallowed, but he refused to ruin this for his daughter. She needed this as much as he’d needed to tell her that bedtime story the previous night.

    To fend off the overwhelming nausea, he found himself laser-focused on Lucifer’s tale. That was when he noticed the omissions. Before, he hadn’t paid Lucifer’s storytelling any mind. He had been dealing with his own inner turmoil about Chloe and his untimely demise. Now that he had nothing else to do but pay attention, John began to notice the discrepancies.

    Lucifer told Chloe most of what they’d experienced that day, with a few key cut corners. He neglected to tell her about Limbo and his mysterious cough. At first, John thought he was avoiding those topics because Chloe didn’t know the truth about who Lucifer really was, but that theory was quickly derailed when she didn’t blink an eye at Amenadiel searching Heaven for clues about their “resurrection problem.”

    John didn’t know why he didn’t correct Lucifer. It would have been so easy to mention a detail he’d left out and watch the fallout unfold. Yet, he sat in silence, only adding in an affirmative sounding hum when Lucifer’s tale required it.

    He just wanted to see where Lucifer went with it, he told himself. Lucifer had to have a reason he was leaving out key details, but then again, did he? If John was being entirely honest, even though they were on better terms now, he didn’t really know who Lucifer was at all. There was no telling whether or not he would be completely transparent with Chloe. In fact, if their detour around LA was anything to go by, Lucifer seemed to skirt around the truth and bend the rules quite often.

    If Lucifer still refused to tell Chloe about Limbo and the cough by the time the night ended, John resolved that he would tell her himself. Chloe was his top priority, she deserved to know the truth, he finally decided. Plus, was it not John’s story to tell anyways? After all, he’d been the one who died and ended up there in the first place.

    As Lucifer’s story drew to a close, John grew more and more convinced that he would have to be the one to tell Chloe about Limbo. But then, Lucifer’s story stopped abruptly. He cleared his throat once. Twice. Then he coughed. It sounded wet and thick like it had at Amenadiel’s, except this time it sounded deeper. It was as if Lucifer was a normal human smoker, and there was tar stuck to the bottom of his lungs.

    Lucifer quickly pressed a napkin to his lips, but the coughs continued until he was almost gagging.

    Chloe worriedly patted his back. “Are you okay?”

    John opened his mouth to confess to Chloe that, no, her partner was not, and that he’d been like this all day, but Lucifer beat him to the punch.

    “Fine,” Lucifer muttered between coughs. He coughed a few more times before it finally petered out, leaving Lucifer weepy-eyed and with an undoubtedly sore throat. He strategically wiped his mouth with a clean corner of the napkin before folding it up and out of Chloe’s sight. There wasn’t a speck of silver to be seen.

    “What was that all about?” she asked, handing Lucifer his wine to wash down the remaining cough.

    He shook his head, taking down the rest of the wine like a shot. “Not a clue.”

    John shot a glare in his direction, and Lucifer tactfully ignored it.

    Chloe stared at Lucifer for a few more seconds. When she found what she had been searching for, she stood and gathered up her dishes. “Maybe those cigarettes are finally catching up to you,” she chuckled over her shoulder as she headed to the sink.

    “Darling, we both know my mortality stint ended ages ago,” Lucifer replied, voice scratchy. It was a pathetic recreation of the exact phrase he’d said to Amenadiel just hours before.

    Chloe snorted. “Sure.”

    John waited until she turned on the tap before he leaned across the table.

    “You have to tell Chloe about everything that’s going on, not just the parts that you like or understand,” he whispered fiercely.

    “That will only cause unnecessary worry for the Detective,” Lucifer whispered back. He unfolded the napkin and tilted it enough for the silver liquid inside to catch the light. “This is not something that she needs to worry about right now.”

    “Lucifer, come on!” He gestured to the napkin. “You’re literally coughing up some unidentified substance. You said it yourself, you’re immortal. So why is this happening now?”

    Lucifer’s jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”

    “I don’t care what you think you are, Chloe deserves to know.”

    The tap shut off.

    John glanced over to make sure that Chloe was still busy at the sink. When she was, he turned back to Lucifer.

    “Tell Chloe, or I will, Lucifer.”

    Lucifer just stared at the silver splatter on the napkin and said nothing.

    View Full
  • monsterfloofs
    14.06.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Demon (Oren) x Anonymous Reader Part II (Sfw)

    (AHHHH Here we are, part two is finally here! I hope you enjoy it and thank you for all your kind words on part one and your patience! (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

    Oren takes a sip from his teacup, peeking at his brother Wyrn who was sitting across the table stirring his tea. It was normal for them to meet every once a week and enjoy tea together. The two youngest siblings had always been very close. “Is there. . . Something on your mind?” Oren asks sweetly. Wyrn was usually a quiet creature by nature, and a day dreamer. He was always lost in thought thinking about something, but today he was more distracted than usual. Wyrn blinks and looks up, frowning lightly. "You haven't told them yet have you?" He asks, the point blank assumption making Oren wince as if stung.

    Oren's face turns pink as he flusters, "N-no! I have not." He looks away, fussing with his vest and bow time. “I didn’t think it would be the r-right time-- m-maybe I shouldn't. . ." He rambles nervously as Wyrn tilts his head, the star trinkets that decorate his horns tinkling as they bump into each other. "And why not?" the older sibling prompts gently. Oren fidgets, "Why? B-because--" He huffs cutely, his mouth wavering, "Because," Wyrn finishes the sentence without batting an eye. "They're human?" 

    "I don't see why you're so worried." Wyrn muses, his eyelids drooping as he raises his cup to his lips. "It is obvious they like you, and plain enough to see, that you like them as well. It wouldn’t hurt to invite them to go on an outing with you, perhaps go to the festival together. Go and enjoy it when all the work is finished." Oren turns his cup in his hands, his pink and yellow eyes drooping. "It’s not that easy you know. I d-don’t have that kind of confidence and I have my worries. . . o-of course. What if I deeply embarrass them? Who would want to, I mean, be with someone like. . ." He trails off and Wyrn raises an eyebrow.

    ". . .You're afraid of hurting them accidentally, or something to that effect?"

    Oren slowly nods, his eyes wandering around the room refusing to look across the table. "Humans are fragile, a-and I don't wish to hurt anyone," He whispers fearfully. "Let alone-- I. . . I could never forgive myself i-if--" Oren his shoulders shrugging up as he stares transfixed into space. His hands shake as he continues to turn the cup in his hands.

    "I think you're worrying too much,” Wyrn says with a soft sigh, “You are not one to be careless, and as your brother, who has known you for almost five hundred years now. I can assure you, you will treat them as if they are royalty,” Oren fidgets more, his cheeks turning pinker and pinker from his brother's words. “I wish I could be more like you,” Oren laughs weakly, “You are rarely bothered by such worries.” Wyrn’s eyes soften, and he gives a light smile. “Ah. . . but there you are wrong, I most certainly am. I am just very good at hiding it.” Oren perks up before giving a wobbly smile, “I say this is the perfect opportunity to ask them to go with you and see the flowers,” Wyrn advises, “Both of you have been working hard, so it is only natural you both should go see what you have been working so hard to create.”  

    Oren was still busy with his brother while you were running about doing your usual chores. Still planning for the festival meant that you had been very busy. You had help of course, and Oren had been more than accommodating as the two of you had tried to puzzle out the staffing, vendors and all the little problems that had cropped up along the way. 

    It had been four months since you first had begun to discuss preparations for a festival with Oren. The floral festival was almost upon you, there were a few last ends to tie up, but soon the main street will be bursting with vendors. The streets soon to be lined with the colorful flowers that had been so carefully grown. You gave a soft sigh of relief, not that you hadn’t anticipated all this work, but you would be happy when it would finally take place and you could go back to your lighter routine. You pause in the doorway, your eyes flitting over the contents of his library, papers scattered all over the table. A slow breath aching out of your lungs as you stoop to gather a fallen piece of paper. 

    There was one thing you would miss when this was over though, despite how hectic things had been. You felt you had gotten really close to him as you had been working on a project together. This was the first time you felt he had slowly started to become less nervous around you. There was always this underlying sense of caution in the way he did little things. Stepping around you and keeping a polite distance, but you had seen this demeanor start to melt over these past weeks. Even if it was just a little glimpse, it was something you really had welcomed with open arms. 

    You reached up and slipped the papers up onto the table, lost in your thoughts. You weren’t really sure how you felt exactly. It was a warm feeling that was hard to describe, whenever you thought your mind could get a grasp on it, it would slip from your fingers. Perhaps, you just wanted him to be happy, and not be so nervous. As you walk around you spot a rumpled blanket set on one of the couches and you realize that there is a soft smile that slowly spreads across your face. 

    He must have stayed up late going over the last little details papers. Your eyes turn quickly away and you laugh awkwardly to yourself. Running a hand through your hair, trying to focus on cleaning and less on your thoughts. You spot one of his large books, looking it over before you square your shoulders. He would be upset if he knew you were trying to lift it, but it’s place on the shelf was only a short walk away and at your height. You huff shuffling over to the shelf with the book in tow, lifting it up and carefully sliding it into place. You grin triumphantly and dust your hands before you pause your expression faltering. A large shadow blocking out an intimidating shape around you.

    “Well, hello there.”

    That wasn’t a familiar voice, and so you quickly turn around. Your head and eyes slowly travel upwards over the large demon towering over you. He had dark slate colored skin, and huge ribbed horns. Luminous purple eyes bored down on you. Your mouth opening but no words coming out. You knew what the other district leaders looked like, as you would see them every once in a blue moon. . . but you’ve never seen anyone like him before, he was hulking, easily bigger than Oren. . . And since there were no other giant demons you knew of, that could only mean. . . this must be Deimos. The oldest brother of the five, the one who was vicious and who was supposedly locked away.

    There were so many rumors abound since no one had ever seen him, apart from his brothers. And here you were, feeling your very bones quavering underneath your skin. Trying not to tremble as you stared up at him wide eyed. “H-H-Hello--” You managed to mumble.

    He grins widely at you in amusement, stooping on one knee, to kneel in front of you, “I didn’t know my brother had any humans on his staff. . . let me get a good look at you.”

    You were close enough to see his pupils dilate and you take a nervous step backwards, your breath catching in your throat. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?” His grins at you. You can vaguely hear Oren’s voice unusually high as he calls your name. You blink your eyes, snapping out of your trance and turning your head, to see Oren, hurry to your side. “D-D-Deimos! I-I- What brings you here?” Deimos voice rumbles with a deep chuckle, and it makes your hair stand on end. “Can’t I see my youngest brother?” Oren very carefully scoots you behind him as he gives a weak smile. Deimos’ clawed hand lands between Oren’s horns, teasingly wobbling Oren's head back and forth. You don’t have to see Oren’s expression to know that he’s extremely nervous. Deimos grins wickedly and rolls his eyes, “Jus’ checking up on my favorite little brother! You haven’t visited me in a while! So I thought I might as well get some air! It ain’t like I’m locked up in there,” His grins wider thumbing the thick metal collar around his neck teasingly. “And what have we got here? No one told me you got a new assistant! I’ve been out of the loop for so long!” Oren stiffens, “Ah y-yes. . .” He begins to wring his hands nervously. “I th-thought it w-would be helpful for multiple r-reasons.” Deimos raises his eyebrows, and Oren quickly looks down, bumbling awkwardly over his words.

    Deimos snorts, shaking his head in amusement. "You don't have to explain, just curious is all." Oren swallows hard and nods shakily, not meeting the eyes of the taller demon. Deimos smirks, looking over his brother before his eyes shift to stare intently at you. His grin widening. "Well. . . I can see you two must be busy~ But dear brother, you must come visit me soon, it gets so lonely being so far away from my siblings." He purrs and chuckles darkly. "I do hope you bring the little one with you. I am eager to know all about this new arrangement. . ."

    Oren stiffens as a tremble goes through him, but he keeps his eyes down. His face turning red and blotchy. He stays frozen until he is sure Deimos has left, then he visibly droops. Putting a hand over his heart and giving a shaky sigh.

    “That was. . . Deimos. . . ?” Your voice came out softer than you had expected. Oren flusters giving a little wince. “Ah, y-yes. . . That w-was certainly unexpected w-wasn’t it?” He gives a sweet wobbly smile, “He can be a l-little intense, honestly if I had known he was going to visit. . . I would have let you go home.” He rubs his shoulder, shrugging up nervously. “That was v-very strange, I would have expected some s-sort of summons. . .” You nod, biting your lip, “But d-don’t worry!” Oren squeaks quickly, “H-He d-doesn’t s-stop b-by often-- I-it s-surprised me t-too.”

    He didn't mention the last thing Deimos had said before he left. . . but you were all too happy to forget about it. Those violet eyes boring into you made your skin crawl. “Would you like me to make you some tea. . . ?” Oren blinks a couple of times, tugging out a handkercheif and mopping his face. “Th-th-that s-s-sounds quite l-lovely actually-- Ahhhh-- what am I saying!” He closes his eyes shut and shakes his head, “I’m n-not going to have you go th-through that t-trouble for m-m-me!” A determined look crosses your face, and you turn on your heels. “It’s not trouble at all!” You call over your shoulder, “I’ll be right back!” Oren twitches, his tail looping nervously around his ankle. 

    "B-b-but-- Ahhhh-- Th-They’re gone already--” He presses his hands to his face in utter embarrassment, he is literally the bigger person here-- he should have done it ahhhhhhhhh!

    You were all too happy to give yourself something else to do. Giving a small sigh as you wait for the kettle to boil. “Jeeze. . ." You mumble to yourself, "That poor boy looked like he was about to fall apart. That must be one intimidating sibling." At least you can make him some tea. That always seemed to help calm his nerves, well that and his terrible addiction to sweets. You laugh quietly, there it is-- that feeling again. You rest a hand to your cheek, “One way or another he is going to have to learn to accept my help,” You say out loud. “After all, we. . . we’re a team.” You shift, crossing your arms and you can feel your cheeks raise with warmth. Thinking quietly to yourself until you hear the water start to boil. 

    You are careful to take the kettle back to the library, holding onto it with two hands wrapped in oven mitts. “I’m back!” You call out, finding Oren sitting at the table looking nervous, he is quick to stand up and take the kettle from you. Hurrying to pour the hot water into two cups and busy himself with preparing the tea. “I’m so sorry--” He repeats shakily, 

    “For what?” You ask, scrambling to your seat and beaming. “It wasn’t a big deal! Besides I offered! I can’t have you doing my work! I’m your assistant after all!” You stretch your arms over your head, before letting your hands sink onto the table. “You are so self sufficiant, there’s not much I can do for you--” You cut yourself off quickly, “Ah shoot-- I’m s-sorry me and my big mouth.” Oren looks at you sadly before he looks down. “Really I didn’t mean,” You try to say quickly but he cuts you off, “I-it’s alright.” His eyes glance around the room before he smiles gently, “I- er. . . know. . . I just. . . I just.” He breathes deeply, “I do not want to be a bother to you.” The corner of your mouth curls up into a lopsided smile, “But sir, that’s my job? I mean other than fetching papers or little tasks, I sincerely want to help you.” You watch his eyebrows lift sadly, expecting another apology. 

    Oren takes a few deep shakey breaths, “Ah-- Well I--" He nervously burbles, "Th-There has been something I have been meaning t-to ask. . .”

    You stand overlooking the festival, a cool wind touselling your hair. You lift your face up into the breeze and enjoy the peaceful moment. Wearing your best outfit for the festival, your hands tentatively picking at your clothes to make sure they were pristine. You hear Oren stutter your name and you turn around. “Y-y-you look lovely,” He stammers shyly. You smile at him and hold out your hand, “Ready to go look around?”

    His hand pauses mid-motion, before his clawed fingers carefully fold over your hand.

    Orens face turns bright red but he laughs in spite of himself. "I-is. . . is this alright? I mean-- I-- you're not--?" You smile up at him and shake your head. Oren squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before his pink eyes slowly open. His mouth wobbles as he carefully fixes the silk flower on his blazer with his free hand. The two of you walk down the steps of his library into the city street.

    It was beautiful, a rainbow of colors as far as the eye can see. You smile, watching the faces of the people as they stop to take in the sights. Children holding hands and pointing out the carefully sculpted arrangement of fragile yellow stars that adorned the fountain in the center of town.

    As the two of you traverse the grounds there is a softly swishing tail from a figure in the distance. Wyrn smiles warmly as he watches the two of you, holding a bouquet of blue and white flowers carefully nestled against his shoulder. “Getting along well I see,” He muses, “Good, good.” He casts one last smile over his shoulder as he pays for the bouquet. Giving the shopkeeper a gentle nod before making his way out of town square.

    #monster x human #monster x reader #exophilia#fluff#sfw #demon x reader #demon x human
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  • satnin-darling
    06.06.2021 - 1 mont ago

    3:47 AM (m) | Kim Taehyung, 8.3k

    Pairing(s): Taehyung x Reader

    Summary: Unrequited love sucks. But it may have led you to someone else. That someone else being Taehyung. But there’s an issue. You might not be over Yoongi and he might still be hung up on someone else - his long-term girlfriend, or now ex. As you remember the past, you and him began to reflect, what you wanted may not have been as great as you remembered. And now, with all that time together, can things be progressing elsewhere?

    Warnings/Tags: RATED M (18+); for language, minor angst (you and Taehyung are still very much heartbroken but there is hope of moving forward - this is a maybe loool); smut (fem-reader; choking; penetrative sex); idol!AU - friends with benefits, maybe lovers). Fluff? Fluff.

    =======

    There are a couple of flashbacks embedded here - may have gotten a little bit carried away, but oh well 😉

    =======

    2017

    "I have big dreams you know," Yoongi murmured, as if talking to himself. You were both alone, sat in a VIP box at the Gocheok Sky Dome where it gave an unparalleled view of the space. BTS had just completed with Wings Tour and with the additional dates being sold out, Yoongi was on cloud nine. It was empty as the audience had filtered out and the view of the seating was surreal. You remembered Yoongi telling you that it had the capacity for sixteen- thousand people. That’s when you realised that you were far from Daegu and the small auditorium where he would practice, in front of you and his older brother.

    Sated and flushed from the concert, Yoongi enjoyed the cool air that met his skin, he had a black hoodie on with a white shirt underneath. You had attended the final date of the tour in Seoul, he was able to give you VIP tickets and you sat with his family, transfixed by the roar of the crowed as they sang each lyric with fervour.

    "I know you do,” You smiled, supportive. It was only and upwards trajectory from here, you knew that he’d reach even higher heights and that only made you excited for him. You thought back to when he would let you hear snippets of what he was working on every now and then. Those were the moments that touched you the most, the fact that he was willing to share them and valued your opinion. The silence between you was comfortable, but it was getting to the point of awkwardness. You weren't exactly sure why he asked you stay, you were busy these days, not like him but still. Something at the pit of your stomach told you that there was something more to this meeting than you had anticipated. Yoongi looked down on his nails, absentminded but deep in thought. You had to force yourself to hold back a sigh, it was getting late.

    "Yoongi I-"

    "I'm seeing someone."

    Your breath caught in your throat and you looked away quickly, desperate something to quell an upcoming wave of tears. Why are you even affected? It had been months since you saw him, you were daft to think that he hadn’t found someone in that time. Blinking several times, you bit your bottom lip and clenched your jaw. The grip on the chair was so strong that your entire body went rigid.

    "You have a way of saying big things so casually," You laughed, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. Keeping your gaze on the numerous seats that filled the floors below, you collected yourself before he noticed. Focusing on yours shoes, they were noticeably scuffed at the front.

    Yoongi chuckled softly, sounding completely happy, "You know me."

    Those words made your blood ran cold. A shiver went through your body. Yoongi noticed and immediately shrugged off his hoodie, draping it across your shoulders. It was warm, and it smelled like him. You accepted it because that was just something Yoongi would do, it didn’t matter who you were.

    "What's she like?" It was an innocent question, not at all telling of the turmoil you felt inside. There was a noticeable pause, then Yoongi let out a small exhale, like the beginnings of a laugh. You knew that that meant he was holding back his excitement, he was probably so happy, he could burst.

    "You should meet her. She's - she's so right for me, you'll see. We met a couple of weeks ago, in the middle of the tour... I can't even explain it," he was stumbling over his words. It was as if an apparition of the woman he spoke of stood right in front of him. You looked at Yoongi and noticed how bright his eyes were, how he was enchanted just at the thought. Never mind that he had just performed his heart out in front of thousands of people, he didn’t look exhausted at all. He had a wide smile, goofy and innocent. The sides of his eyes crinkled, like when he was really happy. In that moment, his demeanour was unlike his on-stage presence.

    It didn’t take long before the hoodie became useless. Yoongi’s mere statement was enough to shatter any form of symbolism you kept for yourself. You were just cold and he was being gentlemanly, always supportive of because you had known each other forever. And in that moment, you reminded yourself that you would always be his friend first and nothing more than that. You inhaled sharply, staring at the stage where they performed not too long ago, swallowing thickly as you experienced a wave of adrenaline. You wanted to run away, to turn back time, to go back to when you were just sitting in silence. That was better that talking about her, whoever she was.

    “I’ve got to meet this woman who’s made you act like this!” You laughed.

    It was as if someone else was talking in your stead. Someone who looked like you, talked like you. A proxy. Yoongi chuckled and buried his face in his hands, embarrassed at himself. He threw his arm around you, it was natural, you had been friends for the longest time and you knew that when Yoongi couldn’t express himself, he wanted to hold something, to anchor himself. But this time, you froze at his touch. Noticing immediately, he searched your face and was met with a flicker of hesitation. You gazed at him, his expectant face mixed confusion at your reaction.

    “Sorry,” He muttered, still giddy from his confession, untangling himself from you.

    “It’s okay, I was just surprised,” You said honestly. Yoongi was already elsewhere, thinking of the woman that made his world turn unexpectedly.

    “Anyway, I better get back, do you need a lift home?” He announced, getting up swiftly and dusting himself off. You shook your head.

    “I can take the subway.”

    “You sure? It’s quite late,” He asked, worried all of the sudden. You let your shoulders sag as you began to lift his hoodie from them. Yoongi shook his head and gave you a side hug.

    “Give it to me some other time.”

    With that, you walked together, descending down the stairs back to the exit. You heard him humming to himself as he went along as you followed, your hands feeling numb.

    -

    2018

    “Why don’t you call Yoongi? We should celebrate!”

    Your mother was busy plating the food as you father continued to watch the news by your side. The jacket that you wore for was draped on a spare chair after you had finished a gruelling 10 hour shift. Dinner was plated and steaming, it was your first day at work and it did not fail to exhaust you.

    “He’s either busy preparing for the tour or doing shows. I can’t just call him last minute like before,” you explained, picking up a spoon so you could have a taste of the soup.

    “Well, it’s worth a call.”

    “No, it’s okay.”

    Halfway through the celebratory cake the doorbell rang. With your parents tucked in bed and your nose buried in some report you were preparing, you didn’t bother to get up thinking it was unruly kids on your apartment floor. They had been doing this thing where they would ring random doorbells and run away immediately. They were lucky that your father was asleep, otherwise they would have been terrified by his thunderous voice.

    But as the doorbell rang incessantly, to point of nearly waking up your parents, you had to abandon your efforts of finishing the report to tend to the door. Yoongi stood behind a big bouquet of flowers, his cherry coloured hair peeking from the assorted petals. Suddenly feeling self-conscious in your dishevelled appearance, you noted that he must have travelled straight from a taping.

    “Yoongi!” You smiled, taken aback. Receiving the flowers off of his arms, he returned your smile, reaching in for a side hug.

    “Congratulations on your first day!” He exclaimed, letting himself in. It was all so normal, he would first unlace his shoes and arrange them neatly. Then he would beeline to the front room, eventually sitting at the kitchen table. Your heart was racing all of the sudden, and you hugged the flowers close, the paper and cellophane crinkling beneath your hold.

    Under the glow of the overhead lamps, Yoongi wolfed down some of the leftover food while leafing through the documents on the side. He was intently scanning the pages, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. You arranged your hair, nervous at his presence. He noticed you standing in front of him, awkward in your own home.

    “Why are you acting so shy?” He chuckled, turning his attention to you. He looked happy, his dark red hair suited him. He looked particularly handsome.

    “Nothing!” You sat in front of him and helped yourself with the cake. The silence settled as you got lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t until you cleared your plate did Yoongi get up to clear the table.

    “Oh, don’t worry about that, you should head home, I’m sure your manager is waiting.”

    “Actually yeah, I was just gonna leave, Hye-yeon’s waiting downstairs in the car.” He replied softly, turning sheepish. The feeling of dread descended in the pit of your stomach once again. Yoongi always drew his boundaries clearly with everyone he knew, and you were no exception. Holding your tongue to prevent any further questions from seeping through, you smiled at his genuine happiness.

    “Go on then, I can’t believe you kept her waiting!” You exclaimed, holding your breath.

    Yoongi blushed. Looking up, he noticed that you were squeezing your thumbs in a fist - something you only did due to stress. But as your eyes met, you released your hands from the imaginary tension and busied yourself with stacking the leftover plates. In an attempt to clear the air, your pushed him gently to the door.

    “See yourself out - you shouldn’t keep your girlfriend waiting.”

    You turned her back swiftly so he wouldn’t see how your features fell despite your cheerful tone. Yoongi was already on his phone sending and with a casual wave, you parted ways.

    “See you soon?” You called out as he disappeared into the corridor.

    “Yeah - see you!”

    You didn’t get many of those surprise visits anymore as Yoongi got busier and busier. So the world carried on as it was, and you worked until you couldn’t feel anything anymore.

    -

    Yoongi was stood outside your apartment with a paper bag in his right hand. Meanwhile, you stood with cash in hand, ready to pay for the take away you impulsively ordered. Wearing a face mask and dressed mostly in black, he shifted on his feet, not looking at you in the eye.

    “Uh, my mother wanted me to give you this since you haven’t visited in a while,” He began, his voice muffled. You still didn’t say anything, your skin prickling with goosebumps. Suddenly, you were hyper aware that you were just dressed in sweatpants that had numerous stains and an over-sized t-shirt that had a frayed collar. That was not intentional, that was an indication of how ratty and old it was. Yoongi was still waiting for your reply, casting sideways glances at the empty corridor. Then you remembered.

    “Oh, uh, come in, come in!” You said, turning your body so you could press it against the wall so that he could come through. You bit your lip at the state of your apartment. Printed sheets were scattered on the floor, several glasses of water and mugs of coffee, all sequestered in one corner, by the growing collection of plants you had. Yoongi didn’t take any notice of it at all, setting the paper bag on the counter. He was checking his phone when you noticed a couple of condoms mixed in the transparent container where you stored your tea bags, right next to the toast. The foil packets were painfully stark against the white paper tea bags. Taehyung must have placed them in there. Ease of access. Your apartment as already small, and it’s not like the bedroom was on a separate wing. You remembered Taehyung emptying the box, scattering the condoms around your apartment.

    You need one here.

    Taehyung, we’re not going to fuck on top of my washing machine.

    (You eventually did. It was uncomfortable. Your ass was sore for at least a day.)

    What about here?

    The balcony? Are you serious?

    Fine. Can I put it here?

    He was talking about the very tea dispenser that was on the left side of Yoongi, who was still on his phone. Strategically placing yourself behind him, pretending to arrange appliances, you swiped the box and hid it underneath a cupboard. Yoongi pocketed his phone and looked at you, just as you slammed it shut. He had taken his face mask off and chuckled at how flighty you were.

    “You didn’t have to come over here, I could have picked it up myself,” You mumbled, hiding your hands behind your back. Yoongi shrugged.

    “I had some time after rehab, I don’t mind.”

    You found yourself nodding, you noted that he did shrug with both shoulders. So he must be making good progress. Yoongi then reached into the bag and produced a couple of Tupperwares. Rushing to his side, you took it from him so he wouldn’t strain himself. When you stacked them together, you noted that it was mostly home made dishes, the ones you would share with him in high school when you would spend time at his house after school.

    “Are you okay?” He suddenly asked. And you froze. You met him in the eye and he was looking at you intently, his dark hair getting in the way of his eyes. He didn’t push it back. You were more dumbfounded that anything. It had been weeks since he found out about your crush and you hadn’t really spoken to each other. And in that time, you were with Taehyung, sleeping together and burying your feelings by fucking. So you never really stopped to think if you were okay. The assumption was that he was asking if you were okay with him rejecting you. And mostly, if you were okay with him coming back in your life, as a friend. Yoongi came back to you as someone you were close to, who would support you in a different capacity since he couldn’t return your romantic feelings. And it was just like Yoongi to ask that, he was still a friend after all. Ultimately, that didn’t mean that he would phase you out of his life. It was unrequited love, not the end of the world. You sighed, you didn’t meant to, but it was pushed from your chest, escaping your lips, long and drawn out. Yoongi was still looking at you.

    “Yeah Yoongi, I’m fine,” You answered, somewhat believing it yourself in that moment. He was in your apartment, giving you the food that you both had when you were younger. It was a silent offering, I’m sorry. I’m here. Let’s go back, I can be here for you, if you’d have me again. Yoongi nodded, a small smile creeping up his lips. He took the top Tupperware and set it down, you followed his movements as he took two clean bowls from the drying rack.

    “Should we eat?” He offered, already taking a place on one of the chairs. You nod. But before you could settle, you noticed that his car keys had a keychain on. It was the same one that you have gifted him for his birthday last year, and that made you smile. You didn’t know why you thought things would drastically change following him knowing that you liked him, it was nice that he kept something that you gifted. You could still remember how he smiled when he fished it out.

    -

    2019

    Yoongi had managed two free days on his schedule for the week and decided to host a small gathering with the members and couple of friends. Not arriving too late or too early, you found yourself hanging out in the kitchen with Dami, sorting out the food. Yoongi had decided to order food in as it was too much of a hassle to make anything. The plastic containers were all lined up, complete with the various utensils like chopsticks and spoons.

    "I can't believe it's been another year!" Dami exclaimed, poking holes in the plastic film. Soon, fresh sashimi was on display for everyone to have a bite on. You were busily arranging the fruit bowls to ensure that everyone had an equal share.

    "Yoongi is becoming an old man," You laughed. You fished out your phone to show an edited version of Yoongi, at least 30 years older. It was on Twitter and you saved it as soon as you saw it.

    "It would he hilarious to surprise him with that," Dami grinned, arranging the utensils on a big tray. The small paper bag caught your eye as it poked from underneath a table, but it was inconspicuous. Hopefully it would stay hidden as the night went on since you planned to give it to him at some point. Just then, Hye-yeon entered the room with a big red box, presumably containing the cake. Side stepping, you made room so that the spare space on the kitchen island was vacant for her to access. She smiled in thanks and set it down, careful to keep it even.

    "I'm so glad I beat the traffic,” Hye-yeon sighed, fixing her hair. You couldn't help how your chest tightened since the desperation to switch places with her amplified.

    "Thanks for manning the food for me guys, I had a longer shift at the hospital and couldn't get away," she added, untying the ribbon around the box. You smiled. Dami patted her shoulder affectionately, "Of course!”

    As the evening wound down, you found yourself wanting to top up your drink. You wondered if it was time to give him the gift. Slightly unsure of yourself but excusing yourself anyway, you made your way to the kitchen. Once there, you came across Yoongi and Hye-yeon smiling from ear to ear. You realise that she had just given him a gift - and it looked like a fountain pen. Encased in the familiar burgundy box, you had wanted to get him that yourself but it tipped the price point. You instantly felt your efforts pale in comparison. Suddenly, you decided that the custom made keychain that was stuffed in a makeshift bag was not worthy of his attention. Noticing your dumbfounded expression, you schooled yourself and headed straight to where the drinks were, reminding yourself to collect the bag from nearby.

    "Come and look at this," Yoongi beamed, eager to share his gift. Glancing at their direction, you raised your eyebrows to feign enthusiasm. Hye-yeon laughed, covering her face in embarrassment, "Stop, it's not even that big of a deal!"

    Upon closer inspection, you realise that it had his name engraved in gold lettering. The body of the fountain pen was all black, set on a satin burgundy bed. Yoongi, proud as ever, took it out and popped the lid, revealing a marvellous gold nib. It was impressive and thoughtful. Yup, you were definitely not going to give him your gift.

    "That's so pretty!" You offered, observing it as it twirled in between Yoongi's pale fingers. He was grinning so hard that you saw the sides of his eyes crinkle.

    "Hyung, I couldn't find the bottle opener, is it here?" Jimin's voice cut through. You saw that he was busily rummaging through the cupboards with a bottle of wine in his hand. You also noticed that he was travelling towards a location that was eventually nearing the bag. Setting the drink down, you walked towards Jimin, attempting to displace his search.

    "I know where it is," You replied before Yoongi could even reply. Reaching forwards under the pretence of looking, you swept the bag out of sight and set it on a chair under the table. But Jimin was quick to register. As your eyes met, you felt your face grow warm with heat as you were more or less caught. But as his eyes softened, he relented his search and gave you the opportunity to disclose where the bottle opener was. Luckily it was just lying out in the open and you handed it over to Jimin. Yoongi and Hye-yeon were already making their way out. Sighing with relief, you leaned on the countertop, setting your half empty drink down.

    "Was that meant to be for Yoongi-hyung?” Jimin asked, twisting the opener into the firm structure of the cork.

    "Yeah," You confessed, defeated. Even though you were sure that it wasn't a shitty present, you wished that you hadn't seen what Hye-yeon had gotten him. Now you felt as if there was no point since it dawned on you that you were both past the age of novelty gifts. Hearing the cork release from the bottle, you looked up only to see Jimin fish the bag from where it was left.

    "Jimin, can I have it back?" You sighed, your mood dampening as he taunted you by hanging it on his finger.

    "Why don't you give it to him?" He pouted, trying to sneak a peek by opening the bag and poking his finger through the tissue paper. Giving up, you sighed and reached for the wine bottle in his hand and poured some in your glass. When the keychain finally on display, Jimin cooed. You forgot that you also had his name etched on a separate panel. It was a Kumamon bear holding an orange with a speech bubble that said "Kkaep-Jjang!"

    "Hyung would love this," he laughed, laying it flat on his palm. When he turned it, he found an engraving at the back that said "I'm the King, I'm the Boss". It was that moment that made Jimin laugh, doubling over and nearly toppling his drink.

    “Stop okay,” You chuckled, seeing how its features brought out someone’s sentimentality. Jimin recovered, taking another swig at his drink.

    “No but seriously, this is so cute,” He sighed, thumbing the keychain in his hand. Reaching over, you took it from him and attempted to pocket it. Maybe you can use it instead.

    “If you don’t end up giving it to him, can I give it instead? My present is great but this adds a personal touch,” Jimin sighed, stepping closer to intercept you. As he caught your wrist, your eyes widened at his sudden movements. Jimin was usually more physical when he was inebriated, and you could confirm that he was probably tipsy at this stage.

    “Jimin quit being like this, I’ll use it instead,” You reasoned, firmly detaching yourself from him. He pouted in defeat, his honey coloured hair falling over his eyes. You suddenly felt sad and insecure, which was ridiculous since it was over a harmless present. But you realised that having such inferior feelings over a mere keychain versus a fountain pen only served to highlight that you were acting like a sore loser and helplessly in love with a taken man.

    “Hello? Were you even listening?” Jimin interjected, sticking his face near yours. You brought yourself back to reality, pressing your forehead against his in jest. “No,” You confessed, getting back to your drink. Jimin’s brow furrowed, seemingly upset. “What I was saying was that you should just give it to him, no need to feel insecure, each gift has value.”

    Gritting your teeth, you hated how transparent you were at the worst of times. Just then, Taehyung entered the kitchen with Dami. Eyeing how you and Jimin’s heads were lowered and staring into each other’s eyes, Taehyung cleared his throat to signal his presence.

    “We were sent to get the cake,” He replied gruffly, staring at you a little longer than expected. Dami’s expression was stony, far contrast to her smiling face earlier. You wondered what had happened.

    “Is it time for the singing?” Jimin gasped, setting the bottle and his drink down. You pulled back and shoved the keychain further down your back pocket. Sounds of clutter began as Taehyung desperately searched for the candles, Jimin had already left the kitchen to join in on the fun. Left with nothing to do, you made a move to follow him.

    “You should give whatever you got for him, he’d like it all the same,” Taehyung said right before you exited. You looked up, the heat rising to your face as you realised he heard more than you wanted him to.

    “It’s okay,” You confess, skin prickling at the thought of Yoongi opening it and giving you that sympathetic smile. Taehyung found the candles and placed them gingerly on top of the cake. You watched as his hair fell over his eyes, he looked good in casual wear. He said nothing more and you followed him outside.

    When most of the guests had left, it was just you, Hye-yeon, Jimin, and Yoongi left, clearing up the place. You didn’t have anything on for work, so you stayed. Jimin was in the kitchen for far too long, all you had asked him to get a black bin bag. But when he emerged, he had that and the bag where you had your gift. Lunging forward, you tried to snatch it from Jimin, who dodged you expertly. You glared at him, You are so dead. Instead, Jimin winked at you. Yoongi looked up as he stacked the plates.

    “Hyung, you have one more present!” Jimin announced, crossing the distance between him and Yoongi, and placed the paper bag directly in his hand. Yoongi looked at you and realised that you got him the gift. He smiled and reached in, taking it out. Your ears burned as you busied yourself in packing the spare confetti. You heard him laugh, like his genuinely laugh. Then, his arm was around your shoulders, squeezing you.

    “Thank you, I love it.”

    Jimin smirked at you, wiggling his eyebrows as you found yourself smiling.

    -

    It was Taehyung’s birthday and he woke up alone. For the past three years, Dami would wake up early and come into the room with what she called a ‘Birthday Breakfast Muffin.’ And it would be a simple one - blueberry flavoured. Then, she would set it down by the bedside table to wake him first by lifting the duvet up slightly, so the cold air won’t startle him. When he felt her body lie close to him, he would immediately unfurl from his sleeping position and wrapped her in his arms, till he could squeeze giggles out her. Dami would always kiss his cheek and lift herself off to present him the muffin, and he would act like it was the first time he’d seen it. And Dami would kiss him, between mouthfuls of blueberry crumbs, singing Happy Birthday softly against his lips. Then, before he had to go, they would have a proper breakfast together and in the evening, drink their favourite wine and slow dance in the living room.

    Now, his room was quiet and there was nothing on the bedside table. No one had lifted the duvet carefully and he had woken up still in the same position he was in - curled up, with a pillow between his legs and arms. The screen on his phone was alight as messages flooded through, casting a white glow against the wall. Sighing, he picked it up, thumbing down the notifications. He didn’t want to reply but he had to out of courtesy. As he spent time checking each message, some from the members, some from other industry friends, he saw yours.

    You [5:46AM] Happy Birthday :P

    He smiled at that. It had been a couple of weeks since you had last spoken (and fucked) and he wasn’t sure if he had missed you or just missed someone to hold. Their schedule was particularly packed towards the end of the year anyway and he threw himself into it, not wanting to be idle. Double tapping on your message to like it, he carried on replying for most of the morning, with his phone attached to the charger.

    When Taehyung was the van on the way to the agency for his birthday broadcast, he wondered whether he viewed his relationship with Dami with rose-tinted glasses on. Whether he conflated getting comfortable with contentment. He wracked his brain for the moments where Dami was pulling away and if there was a time, why didn’t he notice?

    As the van shuddered due to a speed hump, he was brought back to reality. Through the dark tint of the windows, he saw the agency and then they approached the basement parking. Sighing, he pushed his glasses up his nose and cleared his throat. He needed to focus and speak live for at least an hour, so he abandoned any thoughts or opportunity for retrospection. It would eventually give him a headache anyway.

    -

    It was mid-January already and it was nearing 7pm. You were close in finalising the project that you had been working on for the past three weeks. You didn't bother to turn the lights on, letting the blue glow of the laptop spur you into hyper focus. Suddenly, you hear your front door open. Taehyung. Hands flying to switch the nearby floor lamp on, you didn’t want to appear as a hermit. Light flooded the living room just as he appeared. Dressed in grey sweats, he carried a paper bag and carried a navy holdall. Placing his face mask and beanie on the counter, he watched you to look for signs of a meeting. You realise that you were still wearing your work clothes despite sitting crossed legged on the floor, hunched over the small screen for god knows how long.

    "I'll just be 5 more minutes," you informed him, turning your attention back to the document. He smiles, producing a cheesecake and two cans of beer.

    "I'll put these in the fridge, they've been stewing in the car," he sighed. You nod, not really caring. Silence passed, you typed the last few corrections, your eyes stung from the tiredness. You noticed that Taehyung was taking a little too long, rummaging through your fridge.

    "You're wasting my electricity," You grumbled, logging out of the online portal. He ignored you, digging a white box that you've shoved in the back. Eyes widening, you scramble to stand up, running towards him to prevent him from opening it. The box was decorative and came from his favourite patisserie.

    "Taehyung, put it back," you protest, trying (and failing) to snatch it away from his grasp. It didn't help that he raised it from your reach as he towered over you.

    "What's this?" He queried, looking up at the base of the box.

    "Taehyung please!" You pleaded, jumping up in desperation. But he leaned back till his back his the counter. He laughed as you jumped up again. The box was still well out of your reach. Giving up, you sighed deeply and stood back, crossing your arms over your chest. He waited for you to lunge at him but you retreated, going back to your laptop instead. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that he set it down near the paper bag he brought. Heat rose to your face as you waited for his reaction. Taehyung opened the box and was met with an array of macarons. All different colours, he noticed that letters were on them, painted with chocolate. But some were already missing. Not entirely your fault. You hadn’t seen each other for a while and you didn’t want to waste your money, so you ate them gradually as you worked.

    Appy irthday Ehyung!

    On the bottom row, there were illustrations of Yeontan walking in profile. The remaining macarons had paw prints on them. He looked up at you and found you frantically shuffling some papers to appear distracted. Maybe if I don’t look him in the eye, he’d just drop it. You thought, banking on Taehyung’s emotional intelligence.

    "For me?" He asked coyly, picking the 'A' macaron and biting into it. You carried on shuffling papers and shoving them into a folder. If you could summon a giant black hole to open up, you would. He called your name, moving to sit next to you with the box in his hand. When the collection of macarons appeared in your view, you groaned in embarrassment. You wanted to bury yourself alive. Taheyung's arm slid on your shoulder as your face heated up from being found out.

    "I think this is really sweet," he said, picking a macaron and offering it to you. It was pink with a paw print on it.

    "No it's not Taehyung, it's weird. I shouldn't have gotten it," You sigh, biting into it. But he squeezed you closer to him.

    "Well, it was for my birthday, and I think it's sweet," he repeated, finishing the macaron. Reaching for the TV remote, you switched the channel to the news.

    “Is all you watch the news?” He asked, snatching the remote away from you. The screen swiftly changed to a variety show, which was probably a re-run.

    “It gets me knowing what’s going on, sometimes the newspapers take too much time,” You answered, pulling your legs towards you and tucking your knees under your chin. You felt his gaze next to you.

    “You know, you’re so young, but you’ve done so much,” He mutters, totally out of the blue. He reached for a pink macaron with Yeontan on it. But before he bit into it, he took his phone out to take a picture first. That made you smile.

    “I guess…” You offered, paying attention to the game on the screen. Both teams had to score a point for water polo. Needless to say, they were struggling all the same.

    “I mean, you’ve accomplished so many things too, you’re literally part of the world’s biggest boyband right now,” You add, actually interested in the game.

    “It’s not all that.” He sighed, finishing the macaron in one swift bite.

    “Well, I’d rather be depressed with $40 million in my account than depressed with $3.” You replied distractedly, seeing another email on your laptop screen. Taehyung found it in himself to laugh at how blunt you were. Dami was always understanding and consoling him for everything that bothered him, whereas you couldn’t be bothered to entertain any sort of that. Which is why he thought you and Yoongi would be a good fit.

    “Yoongi-hyung said something similar to me when he and I went drinking,” Taehyung reminisced. Your ears perked up, somewhat curious that you had similar views.

    “I was talking about how it’s so much pressure to be an idol and he just shrugged, said something like that, and then he told me that it’s better to be busy than idle. And anyway, we’ve gained more than we lost, I think.”

    It was your turn to laugh. That was just like Yoongi to say something like that. The other team on the TV won, and the sound of chaotic cheers filled your living room. Taehyung’s hand closed over yours, his thumb brushing your knuckles.

    “Now?”

    “Mmhm,” He hummed, already leaning towards you. The sweet taste of macarons greeted your lips, then his tongue grazed yours. The taste of macarons lingered on your tongue. You moan, hands suddenly scrambling to remove his shirt, he gasped as your cold hands came into contact with his back.

    “Sorry,” You said in between moans as his hands hurriedly unbuttoned your blouse. Careful not to tear it open (like last time), he flung it to the far side of the room. Then came the zip of your trousers, you shed them from your legs, spreading your thighs as you reclined beneath him. He pressed himself against your throbbing core, rapidly becoming wet just from kissing. I mean, it has been, what? Weeks?

    “Better in the bedroom,” He muttered, lips on your neck. You nod, clawing at his back, hips grinding against him, earning a deep groan against your ears. Getting up was easy, but not when his arm locked around your waist as he stepped out of his own sweats, using you for balance. You laughed as his toes got caught in the fray.

    “Shut up,” he mumbled, slipping out of his hoodie and shirt. Both in your underwear, you stepped over the mess on the floor and made a beeline for the bedroom. You silently pat yourself on the back for remembering to wash the bedsheets. As your back hit the bed, the smell of freshly laundered sheets greeted you. Taehyung leaned over you, kissing your nose as he hooked his thumbs over your underwear. Teasingly slow, you watched as the black fabric left your body, revealing your soaked folds. Eyes trained on your wet cunt, Taehyung removed his underwear, cock springing free. You moaned as pre-cum covered the head of his cock. Scrambling to get the condom on your side table, he chuckled at how on the ball you were.

    “Shut up,” You mirrored him, finally finding it. Swiftly, you handed it to him and watched with bated breath as he slipped it on. When the head of his cock teased you core, you adjusted yourself, hips coming down. Your hand grasped him and he groaned at your impatience. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you ground your hips, feeling his cock become coated with your arousal, yet still he held back.

    “Fuck hold on,” he moaned as you took his fingers in your mouth, coating it with your saliva, using all available devices at your disposal. As his fingers left your mouth, you noticed that his other hand was placed on your shoulder, perhaps to brace himself. In that moment, you were aware that his thumb was unconsciously caressing the base of your neck. Your cunt clenched immediately. Taehyung jerked suddenly, your walls tightening around him even more. Your eyes met briefly, everything felt so hot.

    "Choke me." You blurted out, it was instinctive, you rolled your hips to spur him on. Taehyung's eyes widened, only for a split second but you caught it. For the first time, he was hesitating. Silence continued and your walls throbbed around his cock. You inhaled sharply, aware that you couldn't let the moment pass.

    "Taehyung," you gasped, moaning as he let you grind yourself against him, enveloping his cock in your folds.

    "Are you sure? I've never done this before," he said, voice oddly calm. But you felt his hand begin to press the side of your neck, it was subtle but your pulse was beating steadily against his skin. You found yourself nodding, pushing yourself closer against him, back arching slightly, taking his cock even deeper. A small moan escaped your lips, hoping to coax him. The air became rarified with the anticipation that emanated from you both.

    "I trust you," you reassured him, remaining still and waiting for him. With your eyes locked onto his, you gauged him, his bottom lip was tucked under his teeth. Something flitted across his eyes and then you felt his hand move across your neck, your breath hitched. He stopped suddenly, the pressure leaving your neck and soon as it arrived.

    "No, keep going," you said, trying to keep the panic in your voice at bay. But you saw that he was chuckling, eyes darkening suddenly.

    "No, I just, I never thought you'd be into this," he smirked. Heat floods your face.

    "Hey I'm not a prude," you shot back, returning his gaze defiantly.

    "Now get on with it," you demanded, spreading your thighs and proceeding to undulate your hips. Taehyung groaned, remembering that he was still sheathed inside of you, aware that your walls were throbbing in protest. Finally, his hand enclosed over your neck, you felt the pressure again, and a jolt of pleasure ran along your body. You shiver involuntarily, moaning as he also began to move his hips.

    “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable and I’ll stop, okay?” Taheyung panted, firmly planting his his other hand beside your head. Nodding as best you could, your breath hitched as he slammed his hips onto yours, the hand on your neck keeping a steady pressure. With your eyes fluttering shut, you sighed as your clit finally got the attention it needed. Lost in the depths of pleasure, you heard him say your name, a deep rasp that pierced any sense of logic you had left. It wasn't something that you could respond to anyway, as your voice garbled nonsense, words melting into mewls. He called your name again. This time, you opened your eyes, tongue wetting your lips as he pushed himself inside you.

    "F-fuck, Taehyung, harder," you moaned, you couldn't contain it. Looking up at him, you knew that he was hesitating in putting more pressure. He knew you were pleading for his hand to put more weight on you. Seeing that his jaw was clenched, his groans mixing into grunts as he rutted into you, pressing you further up the mattress. Your arms raised themselves above your head, pushing against the headboard to brace yourself. Taehyung groaned at the sight, you knew that he liked you spread before him, your tits bouncing each time his hips slammed against yours. You were so wet that you were practically dripping around him and onto the sheets.

    "You sure?" He asked, voice strained.

    "Yes!" You gasped, eyes rolling in the back of your head as your arched up, pressing your entire self against him. Then, his hand added more weight, closing on your neck even more. A choked cry escaped your lips as they parted.

    "Shit," he groaned, momentarily thrown off as he snapped his hips in response as your cunt clenched around him. You whined as the sensations began to overwhelm you, barely able to register anything as your voice was reduced to gasps. Taehyung wasn't faring either, teeth cutting his lower lip, biting so hard that it became a violent shade of dark pink.

    "Keep going, don't stop, fuck," you gasped, arms straining from the force of his thrusts. Still, the fact that Taehyung's hand was on your neck only served to elevate your pleasure, causing you to leak more. He never wavered, thrusting into you rapidly. As your body began to be jostled, bouncing on the mattress from the force, his hold on your neck restricted you, taking the air that you sought. His groans and your cries coincided with the repeated slaps of skin on skin, the slick noises of your wet cunt enclosing on his cock.

    "Fuck, I'm not gonna last," Taehyung groaned, his hand on your neck pressing tighter. Delighted in how he was taking the role, you bit your lip not caring if he finished first. It was euphoric, to have him believe that you trusted him and that he was doing what you asked. That thought alone was enough to send you over the edge.

    "Just cum," You moaned, hands leaving the headboard to cup your breasts, pinching your nipples. You didn’t care that you were being pushed up, so much so that you body was practically leaning on the headboard, your body basically bent in half. Taehyung grunted in response, then elicited a gasp as his thrusts become sloppier by the second. Everything was so hot and wet, his grip on your throat tightening further.

    "Fuck, fuck, you're so fucking good," he moaned, his voice deep and clear. You relish in being able to give him pleasure, moaning even more as you closed your eyes and succumbed to his touch. With a final slam of his hips, he came with fervour, filling the condom, spilling his hot cum inside. With his hand still on your neck you whined as your swollen clit was suddenly neglected, his thrusts slowing down. But before you could protest, Taehyung had mustered the strength to continue thrusting into you.

    "T-taehyung, ah, fuck,” you cried, hands flying to his forearm as he continued to choke you. Your fingers dug into his skin, small red crescents forming in their wake.

    "Cum for me," he demanded not caring about the sting on his arm, eyes alight with determination. In that moment, you let go, orgasm ripping through you in a violent way, that combined with the lack of air caused you to get lightheaded as your cries were reduced to silence. White light clouded your vision and your body shuddered as it tried to cope with all the sensations that assaulted it. Taehyung's lips found your nipple, tugging it even more. You swore you were ascending as he coasted you through your orgasm, Fuck, yes, yes! You managed, your entire body singing from pleasure and pain. As he slowed his thrusts, you steadied your breath, his hands left your neck and body as he leaned back to slip outside of you. The emptiness made you groan as your walls throbbed around nothing. Taehyung leaned forward to plant a chaste kiss on your lips before rolling next to you, completely spent. After some time, you both relaxed onto the bed, somewhat sleepy.

    "Can I stay for a bit?" Taehyung muttered, already drifting. You didn't answer. Instead, you turned to him and slotted yourself against his body, your head against his neck. He used his arm to pull you closer, tucking you head underneath his chin.

    -

    The clock read 3.47AM. It was dark and you were tangled in each other's embrace. You had accidentally woken him up when you tried to go to the bathroom since your skin was sticky as your arousal was drying between your legs, on your chest, your lips. Now, Taehyung's arm was underneath your head, his other hand took yours to outstretch it to the ceiling. You weren't sure what the purpose of that was since your arm was shorter than his, so his elbow ended up at an angle. Still, you played along, rocking your palm against his.

    “I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about the time where I messed up during a conference." He confessed. Chuckling at himself as he remembered it. He was opening up more, usually it's after sex. It didn't bother you before but you did notice that cuddling was new.

    "I was asked to describe the genre for one of the tracks, and I said something like disco pop poking ballad acoustic guitar sound," he outwardly cringed, folding into you. You laugh at his hair, untangling your fingers from his to hug him, he squeezed you back. You knew what he was talking about, the press conference for their BE album. But you couldn’t remember which song.

    "Can I ask what track?"

    He starts laughing harder, his deep voice melodic, and he nuzzled more into the crook of your neck. You hug him tighter, your heart swelling at his display of affection.

    "Blue and Grey." With that knowledge you actually laughed, fanning his hair with your breath. Taehyung pressed himself onto you, arms circling your waist.

    "I know," he grumbled, deep voice reverberating against your skin. He pulled away, placing some distance between you, so you rested your head on the pillow as his arm slipped away. You schooled yourself as you automatically missed his embrace.

    "I always get nerves during press conferences, now it's gonna add to the view that I'm from another planet," he sighed. He was looking up at your ceiling again, profile in view. It was hard to tell whether his eyes were closed or not since his fringe was in the way. Yet your hand remained by your side despite its protest of brushing it away.

    "Well, I like you just the way you are," you mused. The silence that followed signalled that what you said may have been inappropriate. You had to remind yourself that you were just having sex. What you said seemed like a tentative statement, a hint that you wanted more as you reassured him. But it was unavoidable at this point, it came so natural to you. You waited, unaware that you were holding your breath. All that came was a small scoff from Taehyung, he brought his hands to his face, bracelets jostling together on his wrist. Guessing that he was still reeling from embarrassment, you trusted that he would gloss over what you said. Your face filled with heat as you prepared to turn over.

    "Well, I should get going. Early shoot tomorrow." He sat up suddenly, threading his fingers through his hair. He was already reaching for his clothes. A small sliver of disappointment wrapped itself over you, your skin prickled with goosebumps.

    "Sure. Drive safe." You said, turning over and pulling the duvet further up your shoulder.

    "Thanks."

    -

    Well, I like you just the way you are.

    It wasn't new. He had heard it more than a thousand times since he started his career, whether it was from his parents, the members, fans. So why did it feel different this time? Taehyung drove the car out of the parking lot, climbing the cemented hill to join the main road. Despite nearing midnight, various cars were still on the road. He drove in silence.

    But in that silence, he remembered you. The small sighs you would make. How your bodies seemed to slot into each other perfectly nowadays. The snippets of encouragement that didn’t come often but it was enough for him to notice. Clenching his jaw, he realised that what was happening between you guys was toeing the line. A shrill ring brought him out of his thoughts - Dami. Her name flashed on the screen of his car. He ignored it, driving forward as the light turned green.

    previously. / next.

    #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #bts fic#bts smut#bts fanfic #taehyung x you #bts taehyung#taehyung fic#taehyung fanfic#yoongi angst #min yoongi fanfic #bts yoongi#bts v
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  • ladapop5
    04.06.2021 - 1 mont ago

    The Past {Kaz Brekker}

    Pairing: Kaz Brekker x wife reader.

    Warnings: extreme fluff, touch aversion, mentions of guns. I think that's it.

    Context:

    Y/n = your name.

    H/c = hair colour.

    E/c = eye colour.

    S/c = skin colour.

    Note, please read: I wrote Kaz a lot softer than I intended to, and there is a small bit of touch, so I set it when he and the reader are thirty years old and it just shows what I think his progression would have been after the books. Make sure to heart, comment feedback, send a request, follow, and have a wonderful rest of your day! (Gif not mine).

    Kaz Brekker stood on the flat cement roof of the Crow Club. It was late in the evening, the sun was just setting after an unusually less cloudy day in the city of Ketterdam. He wasn't up here to admire the sunset, or look out over the city he proudly runs the underworld of. He was up here for you, his wife, because the roof of the rickety building among many was your favourite spot of the whole city because you could see just about everything from up here. You loved it, so that meant he tolerated it, for you, though he has to admit that he sees some of the appeal, but that's only because he sees you at your best in this spot.

    There you were, standing near the edge with your back against a metal pole, and your head turned right, in the opposite direction to him, so that you could look at the bright burning ball of orange slowly disappearing under the horizon. He may not believe in them, but you looked like a saint, an absolute goddess even though you were just standing still. It was amazing how he found the very fact that you were breathing, absolutely mesmorising.

    Your h/c coloured hair, blew slightly in the breeze, and appeared to be somewhat shiny under the dissipating light of the sun, it simply couldn't look any more lovely. Kaz had that same thought every day, yet every single time you proved him wrong without even realising it. Your s/c coloured skin glowed under the natural light, and it looked perfect, you looked perfect. From where he was standing, you looked like one of those Saints in a painting, the strong hero right after their battle gazing off into the sky with the setting sun creating a halo around you.

    Kaz walked forward, his infamous cane clunking off the ground with every step he took, until he was right beside you. Now he could see your prominent facial features, and more importantly, your beautiful e/c eyes, the very one's that he had once discovered he could get lost in.

    To any other person, you weren't perfect, though no one was, and they always saw your flaws. Your acne, your scars, your bent posture, was what other people saw. But under Kaz's eyes, you were the definition of perfect, a work of art too beautiful that couldn't be imagined by one's mind.

    "Hey, Kaz", you greeted softly, turning your head to look at your husbands handsome features.

    "Hello, y/n", he breathed out. He reached out to take your hand in his, and gently ran his gloved thumb over your knuckles, or more specifically, the one that held your wedding band, then he let go. Even after so long, touch was still a struggle for him, but you did share the occasional hand hold, or the odd kiss on the cheek. You two were lucky, your marriage didn't have to depend on physical affection, just pure and utter love.

    You turned your head to look back out into the distance, and Kaz kept his eye's transfixed on you. You were thinking about something nice, so a small smile was twitching at your lips, and after a few minutes your eyes eventually trailed to the ground as you bit your still smiling lips in thought.

    "Do you ever miss the old days?", you asked, moving your head up to look at him. Kaz thought about it for a second, he did, he always missed part of the past, no matter what kind it was. He didn't answer quickly enough, so you continued.

    "Like, when we had the whole team together? You, me, Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Nina and Matthias. The Seven of Crows, we used to joke", you chuckled, shaking your head at the memories. You missed everyone, all the time, every hour of the day. You missed the adventures of your teenage years with those lot, even if they did drive you crazy.

    "I do miss them, we made a very powerful team. Impossible heists made possible", Kaz eventually replied. He said it very business like, typical him, but you could see the tiny upturn of his pink lips. He missed them more than he would like to admit.

    "We were young, troublesome..... absolutely idiotic teenagers at the time! We went on heists that should have signed our death warrants but yet here we are, over a decade later and still breathing! I mean we're thirty now!", you laughed out, exasperated at the realisation while running your fingers through your hair. Kaz leaned towards you a little at the sound of your laugh, it was something he found so angelic. When you stopped, he stayed that bit closer to you.

    "I never thought I was gonna make it past the age of twenty", he admitted, his eyes flickered with dark memories for just a moment before they were gone. Any other person would have missed it, but you knew him too well.

    "You almost didn't", you remembered multiple occasions where both of you nearly didn't survive, but there was always this one that was the closest Kaz had ever been to death, a day that still haunts your nightmares till the early morning.

    "Two weeks before your twentieth birthday", you mumbled.

    "The two of us were stealing form a rich merchants house during a huge party they were hosting. I had it all figured out with plans A through F, plus all the minor back up plans", he said in a practiced manner, almost as if he has receited it in his head a hundred times before.

    "The mercher made a last minute decision to hire four extra guards half an hour before the party which you did not account for", you clutched your hands over your stomach after the terrified knot formed in it.

    "I ended up getting shot twice in the chest. You grabbed me under my arms and dragged my bloody body away. I still feared touch so I tried to struggle out of your grip, very effectively making my wounds worse. When we got to an alley, you dropped me on the ground and leaned over me so that you could put pressure over the wound. I remember you saying 'you can't die on me, not today. Kaz, please don't close your eyes', and then....", he trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished as you thought it should be, but you could tell he was going to say more.

    "And?", you questioned. You couldn't tell why he was so hesitant. To you, the story ended with you being able to save him, nursing him back to health, and him thanking you when he did make it to his twentieth birthday two weeks later.

    Kaz's eyebrows were scrunched together in thought, debating whether to say the next part or not.

    "That was the moment I realised I was in love with you", he admitted. Again, a small smile was grazing his lips, which was a rarity a decade ago but a more common thing now.

    You completely froze after his words. Never once in the five years of dating you and then the five years of marriage after that, had he ever talked about when he fell in love with you. You had never once thought to question him on this topic before, as to you it didn't really matter. But after he said it, a certain warmth spread through your body, and there was that little tingle in your heart that reminded you of a school girls crush.

    Kaz was unsure of your reaction. He couldn't see what was going on inside your head, but your face appeared to be blank. He was going to say something, ask why it was so shocking, because you knew that he loved you, so why should talking about the realisation be such a surprise to you.

    "You only realised you loved me because you were dying!", you shouted at him in a high pitched voice. You weren't angry, which clearly showed through your amused smile and raised eyebrows.

    "I can't believe it! Actually you know what, I can believe that it took near death for Kaz Brekker to realise that he had human emotions!", you mused. You were going to jokingly walk away out of exasperation, but Kaz was quick to reach out and take your hand, pulling you back so that you were chest to chest.

    The bantering mood you were in a second ago had completely disappeared, and was replaced by something much more serious and tension filled, but not the bad kind. In a way, it almost felt sensual.

    Like mentioned earlier, touch was still something Kaz struggled with, because of the horrors that plagued his thoughts every time he did it, so this action was something shocking to the both of you.

    Your body was pressed flush against his, one of his hands gently holding yours while his other one still clutched the cane. Your faces were so close, to the point where your noses rubbed against each other, two skins softly touching. Your lips were millimetres from each other, and your warm breath mingled together in the cold evening. The sun had completely disappeared, replaced by the night which made it much harder for your eyes to focus on his close face.

    "I realised I was in love with you in that moment because of what you said. You didn't want me, a monster, a crook, a thief, a murderer, to die, even when I didn't deserve to live", he whispered into the small space between your lips.

    You see certain dark memories reflecting in his blue eyes. The cold corpses, the even colder water, his dead brother, and the memories of suffocation filled his mind until he felt dizzy. The nausea, the fear, the tightness in his chest he tried to push down but was still there, and you could see it. So no matter how much you wanted to kiss him in that moment, you reluctantly let go of his trembling hand and took a step back.

    Kaz was partly relieved when the touch was gone, but also wished that it would come back, even though he knew that if it had lasted even a few more seconds, he would have passed out. The monsters were still there, they always would be, but he couldn't wait for the day where they were in a manageable place so that he could hold you, his beautiful wife for as long as he wanted.

    "I love you, y/n".

    View Full
  • kookie-chimchim
    29.05.2021 - 1 mont ago

    ‘tis your throne | jjk

    ➳ pairing: rich!jungkook x f!reader

    ➳ genre: established relationship, pwp, smut, explicit.

    ➳ summary: you thought that it’s your seat. but no, according to jungkook, ‘tis your throne.

    — masterlist

    ➳ rating & word count: 18+ ; ~4K

    ➳ warnings: language, explicit sexual content, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, nipple play, oral sex (f! & m! receiving), fingering, dirty talking, rough sex, pet names, unprotected sex (be safe people!!), over stimulation, multiple orgasms (f! receiving), big d*ck!jungkook, squirting, cream-pie — this is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent jungkook in any way!

    ➳ taglist: join my perma tag!

    ➳ a/n: hi, i’m back after decades lmao! since jungkook has been ‘no more buttons’ lately; I wrote another impulsive pwp! thank you so much @starlightauroras-main for beta reading and editing! ily so much uwu (≧▽≦)!! a big thanks to @jaeism for making me this beautiful banner ily mwah mwah ♥!!

    Jungkook steps out of the elevator, sighing out of relief. He’s finally home after another hectic day; and even though he’s exhausted, his steps are fast, taking him to the door of his luxury condo. A familiar rush of happiness makes his heart thrum in his chest. He can’t wait to see a very special certain someone. He can’t wait to get lost in the feeling of his love, the light of his life.

    “Sweetheart?” Jungkook’s searching voice snaps you back to reality. Pleasantly surprised, you step back from the mirror. He’s home already? Admiring your figure in the beautiful, lace lingerie one last time, you head towards the closet, your heels clicking against the tiled floor.

    Running fingers through your messy and untamed hair, you close the bedroom door behind you. You walk out in the spacious living space, excitement bubbling up in your chest. You spot him on the couch, a glass of his old faithful scotch on the table in front of him as he frowns at his laptop screen.

    “Baby? Aren’t you home?” His honeyed voice wraps you up in a comforting daze.

    You hurriedly put on a dress shirt to cover yourself, finally gathering yourself and answering him, “Coming!”

    After hesitating for a bit, you take a seat right beside him. A soft smile curves Jungkook’s mouth upwards, his right hand automatically taking a hold of your thigh. You wrap your arms around his waist in return, resting your chin on his shoulder. Moments of comfortable silence stretches, and you enquire, your eyes fixed on him, “What is it?”

    He shakes his head in response, squeezing your thigh gently. “It’s nothing love. Don’t worry.”

    Not convinced at all, you hold his chin firmly, making his gaze shift to you instead. “Are you sure?”

    With a heavy sigh, he closes the laptop wearily. Knowing very well that he’s stressed, you run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp in hopes of helping him. Jungkook melts under your touch, turning around to bury his face in the softness of your chest. You drop a chaste kiss on his forehead, feeling complete.

    You suppress your giggle, earning an eye roll from him. Settling you on his lap, he slaps your butt teasingly. “You had to go there, didn’t you?” You barely manage to hold your laugh, struggling to keep silent. But, Jungkook seems to be far away from the conversation suddenly, his eyes now drinking you in slowly.

    “What would I do without you, y/n?” he hums, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes fondly.

    You peck his lips, touching your foreheads together. “Probably you’ll age faster with all the stress and be lonely.”

    “Fuck.” He curses under his breath, his fingers gently tracing the border of your panties over the shirt. “Why are you wearing this today?”

    You shrug. “I was just trying on random stuff the whole evening. After wearing this, I didn’t really feel like discarding them… so I just kept it on.”

    He nods thoughtfully, bunching up the shirt around your waist to grab you. “Good thing that you kept this on. Can’t wait until all of these will be showcased on our bedroom floor.” His voice is husky and playful, and you feel his bulge growing against your core, your teeth instinctively sinking on the soft flesh of your lower lip.

    Jungkook cups your cheek, pulling you closer to capture your lips in a slow, languid kiss. He nibbles on your lower lip, coaxing you to open up to him. You let out a gasp and his tongue finds yours, a pleasant shiver running down your spine as he caresses your sides. A moan escapes you when he starts grinding his hips with yours, a low growl vibrating in his throat.

    Out of breath, you pull away first, your pupils dilated from wild desire. He tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, throwing you a devilish grin. Unsure of what he’s about to do, you lean into his touch, purring.

    “Jungkook!” You screech, suddenly turned upside down as he throws you over his shoulder swiftly, carrying you to the bedroom. A rough slap across your right ass cheek makes you whimper, and you can swear that there’s a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

    Once inside, he gently places you down.

    Just as you’re about to go off on him, he pushes you up against the wall to your surprise, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin of your neck.

    “Oh!” You mewl out, losing all your power to his ministrations. He nibbles on your earlobe, his gaze locking with yours.

    “You’ll remember only me once I’m done with you, love. Just me and how I make you feel.” The determined tone of his voice and hunger evident in his honey brown orbs are proof of just how serious he is about his plans.

    “Is that so?” You make sure to flutter your eyelashes in the end, the words rolling smoothly off your tongue.

    Jungkook is sure he has seen every shade of the very wide range of your smiles, but the smug grin painted on your lips right now is something else entirely. He looks at you transfixed, unable to act on his sinful thoughts. You are more than capable, though.

    You push him away, walking slowly towards the luxurious king-size bed. Your hips sway to an enchanting melody only your mind knows. With a graceful twirl, you fall on the sheets, inviting Jungkook with your index finger and irresistible, lustful eyes. He lazily strides up to the bed, sizing you up and down. Just a moment later, he’s towering over you, waiting for the next move.

    A teasing spectacle begins to unwind — you start undressing yourself, your every motion frustratingly slow. You kick your heels off, while your fingers pull your dress shirt up to peel off the tights, spreading your legs slightly with feet pressed against Jungkook’s chest. His strong hands, ludicrously eager to touch you, move the sheer material down delicately, letting it fall on the floor. His mouth instantly glues to the bare skin of your ankle, peppering tender kisses up your leg without breaking eye contact.

    Like a tulip blooming beneath the warm sunlight, you gently caress your bare thighs under his gaze, the elevation of your breaths making him smile. You can feel your skin tingling for his touch, the urge to have him almost too much to bear. He leans down to nuzzle your inner thighs, a jolt of electricity spreading goosebumps over your skin.

    You finally divest yourself of your sheer white dress shirt, noticing the newfound hunger in Jungkook’s gaze scanning your barely clothed silhouette. The smirk crossing your face matches his as you pull down the straps of your bra, letting your breasts jump out of the cups. His pants suddenly become unbearably tight. Soon it becomes apparent that there’s a certain rush required...

    Impatient, he peels off your lace thong, the delicate material flying away somewhere in the room. He leans in to kiss you, your legs automatically curling around his waist.

    “I can’t believe that I get to see this piece of art whenever I want.” Jungkook whispers between hard, long kisses, his hands massaging your breasts. You gasp, pulling on his purple strands of hair as he starts to trail kisses down your jaw and neck. Wet heat gathers in your core, his mouth sucking on your collarbones.

    “You’re so goddamn gorgeous, y/n.” His hot breath fans over your erected nipples. You moan wantonly, throwing back your head in pleasure when he finally wraps his lip around a sensitive bud, his tongue eagerly licking on it. His left hand occupies itself with your other breast, rolling and pinching the nipple. He groans, biting you softly when you pull a bit too hard onto his hair, a strangled whimper leaving you.

    You try to buck up your hips against his, seeking friction between you two. Jungkook stops immediately, looking up to see your current state — a writhing mess. With a gentle bite on your nipple, he leaves your chest, a questioning look in his eyes. “What do you want me to do, baby?”

    You whine in protest, trying to pull him down on you. But he’s much stronger – only giving you a sly grin. Desperate for his touch, you grab his hand, guiding it between your legs, just where you want it. But he takes his hand away, demanding, “Tell me, y/n. Tell me what you want.”

    With a shaky breath, you whisper, “I need you to touch my clit, please.”

    As a coy smile plays on his lips, he lets his finger trail down your belly, approaching your slit. Jungkook stops right before the swollen nub, chuckling at your whine. “Please.” You lift your ass, hoping that his hand will slide down as a result. But, he pushes your hips down, his voice low, “Behave, sweets.”

    Watching your puppy dog eyes, he sighs. You know his weak spots. With one last look, he nestles himself between the warm cocoon of your thighs. You clutch onto the bedsheet, knowing very well what’s about to happen. “So eager for me.” The heated words puff against your core and you squirm.

    He gently thumbs the sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing a soft whimper from you. Increasing the pressure on it sometimes, he enjoys the sounds you make in response. He gently nips your inner thigh, one of your hands flying to his long hair. Jungkook kisses your clit before starting to suck on it. “Please… That’s… ” You choke out, his adept tongue stimulating you further.

    “That’s what?” You can feel his smile against your skin. Inhaling sharply, you say, “That feels so good.” His teeth drag on the nub, making you scream, “Jungkook!”

    Jungkook knows he looks just as wrecked as you, his eyes fixed on your hazy ones and his hair tousled from your tugging.

    In a massive surge of desire, he extracts himself from you to get rid of the problematic fabrics on his body. With his hungry gaze on you, he flings both his underwear and pants off. Your smile widens at the bold initiative; and you sit up to reach for his shirt, unbuttoning it. Your eyes fall on his erection, the glorious size of it bobbing lazily. Gingerly, you let your hand skim the lines of his chiseled abs, inching closer to his cock.

    “Later.” Jungkook whispers, grabbing your wrist before it can reach him. He pushes you down on the bed, towering over your small form. It seems like he’s back to admiring your naked body, his eyes roaming all over you.

    “You’re all fucking mine.” The material of his shirt slid off his shoulders with a tug, leaving both of you in the raw.

    Every time he sees you naked feels like the first time, even though he’s known every inch of your body by heart – touched it, licked it, kissed it, sucked it, memorized it. Nevertheless, he can’t get enough. His jaw drops every single time he’s met with your mesmeric curves.

    So he just stands there, like the fool he is for you, examining you with his wild brown eyes as if he is comparing you with a fantasy, holding his urge on a leash. You stare back at him, your eyes alight with similar fascination and tenderness – now slightly overshadowed by something more primal.

    In the blink of an eye you are all over each other again, rolling around the bed with lips melting in a fervent kiss and curious fingers uncovering one another’s mysteries. The cold weather outside seems a distant world away as the heat between you magnifies with every shared breath.

    Jungkook’s greedy lips quickly follow down your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses along the way. The sweet distinctive trace of vanilla on your blazing skin befuddles all his senses, but he doesn’t allow that weakness to hinder his primary mission.

    “Jungkook…” A sharp moan escapes your mouth at the sensation of his tongue closing around the soft spot behind your ear. His hands take care of your shaking body, his rock hard cock resting against your navel.

    The journey soon continues; his hands slowly heading towards your core, driving you absolutely insane with even the tiniest movement. He’s partially stunned by how responsive you are to his touch, how your body reacts just the way he wants it to.

    He dips his index finger into your warmth, groaning as he feels your juices coating him. “Fuck. You’re dripping wet, sweets.”

    He doesn’t even have to send a proper request – you open yourself willingly, spreading your legs wide. But Jungkook just smirks roguishly in response, shaking his head.

    “I have another idea.” He kisses you one last time and flips you two over, leaving you flabbergasted and gawking at his manhood standing tall for special attention. “Come here.”

    You do as you are told, using your elbows to straighten up before straddling him. He bites his lip in silent frustration when your soaked folds wet his member, gliding up his length. The hiss he let out disappears into your mouth when you throw yourself at him with a passionate, all-consuming kiss. His hands grab your hips possessively, forcing you to move forward.

    “Closer.” He mutters, kissing your jaw.

    Unaware of his intentions, you blink confusedly. But that sly smile dancing on his face quickly reminds you how good of a player Jeon Jungkook is. And always such a giver.

    You kiss the tip of his nose and rise up, moving all the way up, until you’re settled directly above his mouth.

    “Is this my seat?” Your voice is nothing but a whisper, dripping with anticipation.

    “'tis your throne, love.”

    Jungkook doesn’t offer you a chance to answer – he lowers your hips, guiding your entrance straight onto his mouth. You teeter at the contact, hands reaching blindly for the bed frame, while his firm grip on your body keeps you in place.

    He gives you no chance to recover – his tongue begins teasing your clit, every flick deliberate and exhilarating, setting your body on fire. Your hips roll to the rhythm of his skillful ministrations, begging for more friction.

    The bed frame serves its purpose perfectly, your knuckles turning numb from the pressure of gripping for steadiness. You bite your cheek, trying to muffle the moans escaping your mouth. But how can you stay silent when he’s sucking you so good? You are about to let the whole neighborhood know that you’re riding Jeon Jungkook’s face.

    His mouth doubles the effort, driving you higher and higher. As pleasure rips through you, you feel how exposed you are without his steadying arms wrapped around you. You instinctively reach for your breasts, squeezing them as hard as you can, floating through the orgasm with frenzied moans spilling out your lips.

    Jungkook takes in every nuance of you – the way your body flexes on him, eyes half shut by the ecstatic feeling, your breasts aquiver, beads of sweat rolling down your skin and that sweet, sweet taste. You are spectacular and he is determined to keep you on the high wave.

    Much to your surprise, Jungkook continues lashing at your clit after you fall apart. The overwhelming heat keeps on spurring you, making your knees quiver.

    “Jungkook!” You yelp, not sure if it’s a cry of relish or call for help. It doesn’t stop him, though. His tongue sweeps your cunt relentlessly while his thumb rubs your oversensitive clit.

    But you have to get his attention. “Jungkook, wait!”

    He stops, utterly concerned, holding your shaking thighs. Before he manages to ask what’s wrong, you speak up again, your velvet voice faltering as you beam with satisfaction.

    “I have an idea.”

    Jungkook loosens up the grip on you and watches with piqued interest as you spin around just to nestle on top of him, with your cute bum landing right in front of his face. You send him a sultry look over your shoulder, take his cock in your soft hands and give him a few powerful strokes.

    “Sweetheart, you don’t have to–”

    The sentence is cut in the middle when your tongue twirls around his tip, pulling his length deep in your mouth. His hands land on your ass, seeking for something to grip tight as your excellent work sends a visceral thrill through his whole body. He can’t see you, but he can feel you struggling to take him all in. But you’re no quitter – a paralyzing warmth takes over his body a few moments later. His hips buck up slightly to meet your mouth, your head moving sluggishly up and down his throbbing cock. For a split second, you completely blow his mind.

    In an instant, Jungkook gathers himself and gently brings you closer in one swift movement. His mouth dives into your pussy again, eliciting a strangled moan as you squirm on top of him.

    When he slips two fingers to join his tongue, you stop dead in your tracks, falling forward, choking on his cock that hits your throat. He can feel every muscle on your body tensing at the additional friction. You moan loudly around his length, sending vibrations through him. He groans, his tongue ravishing your slit. The pace of his fingers slow down ever so slightly, in rhythm with your pulsating cunt.

    Riding out the high, you want to return the favor. Jungkook will cum with you too. Porn made it all look so easy and nonchalant, but it’s truly arduous. How are you supposed to pay all your attention to sucking his girth, When you’re already so close to your 2nd orgasm? He knows how to draw out the pleasure from you.

    As your body breaks out in exhilarating shivers, you set your furious focus on his cock. Your head bobs up and down, tongue and hand working his length up tirelessly in an unsteady, yet powerful manner. Your dedication is greeted with a few muffled moans and an additional digit teasing your entrance as a reward. It’s definitely not a race, but feeling his tongue and fingers plunging deep into your core, you finally realize Jungkook obviously plans to completely demolish you. And you are slowly giving in.

    The air fills with obscene slippery sounds and quiet humming on both sides – the obvious proof of immense pleasure building up. Despite your ecstasy-fueled exhaustion, you keep your pace, tongue and fingers working earnestly to push him over the edge. Your moans and whimpers get louder soon, your walls squeezing him as you feel his cock throbbing in your mouth.

    Maybe it’s a race after all. Maybe the fervor of your movements match your dedication to each other.

    You sense the release is close. You feel it deep inside your core, as Jungkook’s dynamic licking and rubbing paralyzes you with blissful shivers. Your mouth stills around his member, your whole body trembling as you cum again. In a flash, you collapse on him with absolute pleasure, unable to move for a long while, basking in the afterglow. Jungkook slows down, gently licking each drop you offered, prolonging the pleasure.

    When you finally have the power to extract your mouth from his cock and sit up, you notice that he’s still rock hard. Your saliva makes the veins glisten, and you almost feel bad for failing to make him cum.

    “Sweets? Are you okay?” His hand rubs your back soothingly, concern laced with his voice. You nod, slowly turning around to finally meet his gaze, his frown melting into a soft smile. One blink and you’re on your back again, his body covering yours as he peppers your face with kisses.

    “Jungkook!” You mewl, his chin slick from your essence. He grunts in response, his cock sliding along your slit. “I want you.” He states, his tip right on your entrance, waiting for your confirmation.

    “Fuck me, then. Take me now.”

    Without any hesitation, he enters you with a hefty push, filling you up in a way you’ve never experienced before. Maybe it’s because you’re overly sensitive, or maybe because you just tried something new with him… you don’t know. You hear the hitch of his breath once he hits the hilt, a desperate moan escaping you.

    You are perfectly accustomed to his size somehow. But you didn’t expect this all-consuming, almost agonizing feeling of fullness before even he is pounding you. A series of vehement whimpers escape your mouth without your permission. Your chest heaves as you struggle to control your breathing.

    Jungkook immediately notices the unconcealable shift in your demeanor. He cups your cheek, slowly pulling out of you.

    “Baby, is everything all right?” He whispers, his voice full of concern. “Do you want me to stop?”

    You instinctively grab his hand and lock your body on him with an inaudible cry, every word a torture. “I want you inside.”

    He nods, relieved, pulling you as close as it is humanly possible. Your head lolls back, resting comfortably on the pillow so you can glance at him between the fits of passion. You two exchange a blithe smile, reflecting the dizzying sensation of each other’s presence. Jungkook’s lips brushes over your forehead in a sweet kiss just as he begins moving inside of you.

    He starts off slow, pulling in and out as gently as he can, keeping you cradled in his protective arms. Your previous remark proves to be right – you are insanely tight and lubricated, your scent and unrestrained moans only adding to his arousal. He knows he won’t last long.

    “Harder, please.” You whimper, your nails digging into his back, sure to leave marks that’ll be visible for the upcoming days. He willingly complies, deepening his thrusts, setting a merciless pace. The sound of slapping flesh punctuated by your heavy breathing and pleasure vocalizes in the most indecent way.

    Everything is Jungkook – he invades all your senses, emptying your mind, leaving nothing but his name. You can feel the thunder of your heart pounding against your chest; his hands mindlessly roaming over your curves as you remain trapped in his strong embrace. His fingers sneak up to your clit, rubbing you with expert precision while his cock keeps on ravishing you. You are mere seconds away from yet another orgasm, unable to communicate in any form other than shameless moaning.

    His deafening groans get more desperate, thrusts slower and rigid, his fingers pleasuring you frantically.

    You double over the edge soon, screaming out his name in pure pleasure. Jungkook ruts his hips harder, getting closer to his release. But, on the other hand, something carnal starts building up in your body, your vision blacking out as suddenly you feel a flow of warm liquid running down your thighs. Jungkook curses, “Fuck baby. Fuck! Look at you squirting, a freaking goddess.”

    You could only purr in response, your addled brain unable to register anything else. He growls out loud, the feeling of your inner walls clenching around him along with the hot liquid of your squirt on his stomach too much to handle. With a final sloppy thrust, he chokes out a groan of your name, thick ropes of his cum spilling inside you. Completely spent, he falls over your body, your bodies a tangled mess of each other.

    Once you both have recovered and cleaned up the mess; Jungkook pulls you into his arms, sighing contentedly. You draw random patterns on his chest with your finger while he strokes your hair. The comfortable domestic silence prolongs, until Jungkook speaks up again.

    “Was I too hard on you today?” He tilts your chin, his eyes gentle. For a moment you lose yourself in the warmth of his eyes…

    “Not at all, I – enjoyed it.” You smile softly, lowering your head. He touches his forehead with yours, his lips just a breath away from you.

    “I love you. So fucking much.” He squeezes you in his arms, kissing you gently on the lips. You hum appreciatively, sighing.

    “I love you too, Jungkook.” You two share an endearing, personal smile that’s reserved for each other. Burying your face in his chest, you listen to his steadying heartbeat and slowly drift off to a peaceful sleep.

    the end ♥

    author’s notes: 💌

    thank you so much for reading bubs! hopefully you enjoyed this shenanigan of mine hehe 🙈! reblogs are highly appreciated 🥺💕! also leave your feedback if you want to 🥺❣️uwu! I’ve never written pwps this long before so lemme know! I hope I did it correctly ✨

    Also I earnestly apologise if there are any mistakes in there; I was too excited to post and I didn’t proofread XD

    So yeah... That happened. I know I haven’t posted any fics for 2 months now (I’ve been struggling with life and lost the motivation to write) but JEON JUNGKOOK IS MY SAVIOR! His tiddies y’all. That’s what made me write this. I’ve always wanted to write a 69 fic 👀 so here you have it! His tiddies lsgkkdhk 😩 made me feel things I probably shouldn’t 😚

    But anyways don’t mind my rant idhjksgk 🙃! I hope to be motivated randomly like this more frequently 🤩

    I totally used the attitude couple here (far in the future) but you can imagine any ceo!jungkook if you want 😌

    You read this far? ILY ❤️ UNTIL NEXT TIME!!

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  • lokislastlove
    28.05.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Come One, Come All (dark!Loki x reader)

    Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

    Warnings: Noncon/Rape, knife play, oral (m&f), smut, bondage, kidnapping.

    This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

    Authors Note: I wrote another one! No idea where this came from, but it was fun to write. Still working on improving my smut, huge thanks to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for some tips and editing the shit out of it. 😘 also I know there is a creepy clown in the pic but I feel like I have to say there aren’t any clowns in the fic. I hate clowns.

    Chapter 1:

    It was the kind of summer night you dream about, warm enough to keep you comfortable in your shorts and peasant top, but with a light breeze that keeps you cool enough to fight the flush of alcohol in your veins. You look forward to these moments when you are able to go out with your girlfriends and let loose, forgetting about all life’s responsibilities, if just for a single night.

    “Come on!” Ash calls over her shoulder, her hand tight around your wrist pulling you impatiently.

    “Aww but that looks so good” you groan as you press your face longingly against the glass barrier of the hand dipped corn dog cart.

    The sweet scent of the frying corn dough wafts tantalizingly through the air making your mouth water. You friends laugh at your theatrics, having just helped you scarf down a large sugary funnel cake and a platter of nachos, the evidence of which still stains the corner of your mouth. Really, it was their fault for getting you tipsy before taking you to the county fair, everything just smelled heavenly and if you could you would try one of everything.

    “Just a slushee?!” You beg as Jen steps behind you and pushes you out of the food court, giggling the entire time.

    “Come on, fight the drunchies! You promised you would try that new funhouse,” Jen whines, looping her arm through yours, Ash doing the same on the other side.

    “Oh yeah,” you grumble.

    “Oh stop it” Ash scolds playfully. “Everyone at work keeps talking about it - it’s like a mini escape room! And I’ve always wanted to do one, please.” She rants excitedly before giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

    “Ugh that’s cheating. No one can resist those big brown eyes” you pout, but yield as easily as they knew you would.

    “I know” Ash smirks, tossing back her long silky black hair over her slender shoulder.

    “This is gonna be so much fun, I promise” Jen bumps your hip, giving you a wide encouraging smile.

    You manage a strained grin as you let them lead you through the crowd. It’s not that you don’t like funhouses or the idea of doing an escape room, having always loved solving riddles and doing puzzles. It’s just you don’t like clowns, and every funhouse in your experience has at least one.

    “Oh damn there’s a line!” Jen moans as you all stop in front of a large structure covered in flashing lights, the ominous ‘Tricksters Trap’ bathing your face in a violent red glow.

    Garish contrasting colors somehow both attract your eye and make it hard to look at. Your pupils dilate with the lines of fluorescent bulbs burning into your retinas. The stereotypical circus music blares through the cheap speakers, reminding you of one of those old Jack in the box toys. And of course, without fail, was the obligatory clown statue hanging over the entrance, like some creepy sentinel there to guide you to your inevitable demise.

    “Ugh fucking clowns” you grimace as you pass by the entrance, heading toward the end of the line.

    “Yeah they definitely nailed the creep factor,” Jen agrees, her eyes shining with nervous excitement.

    “I know isn’t it great?!” Ash squeals.

    You stand there taking in the horrific detailing painted on the side of the metal structure. You are thankful when Ash explains there is a time limit, only ten minutes to complete the puzzle or else they kick you out and you have to try again. If you figure out the puzzle you get to leave through the mirror maze and you earn the coveted “I tricked the Trickster” sticker.

    “Gotta get that sticker, or else that bitch Katie at work will never let me forget that she got one and I didn’t” Ash complains, causing you and Jen to share a look and snicker.

    “Hey! Don’t laugh, this is serious! We gotta be smart and figure this out, failure is not an option” she urges dramatically before collapsing into drunken giggles with you and Jen.

    “You ladies seem eager to prove yourselves,” slithers a low voice.

    Startled you gasp and spin around quickly. The three of you look up at the tall lean figure standing behind you. He wears a perfectly tailored black ensemble, that matches the color of his slicked back hair. His eyes practically glow green against his alabaster complexion. His sharp cheekbones and angular jaw make your breath hitch, causing his thin lips to curve into a sinister smirk. He is stunning.

    “Um, yeah. Well this place has the whole town buzzin’. Seems like everyone is talking about it” Jen is the first to speak.

    “Ah I see. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance to take a stab at it” the mysterious man surmised, eyes focused on you.

    “We got this shit. Right guys?” Ash assures him as she playfully smacks you and Jen.

    “Well, I guess we’ll find out. Good luck,” he challenges with a raise of a brow.

    You stare after him as he saunters away without another word. His hips and shoulders sway smoothly, his soft footsteps giving him a dangerous almost feline vibe, like he could rival even the most deadly of predators. As he turns to round the corner of the ride he takes one last look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes lock for only a fraction of a second but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

    “That was weird, right?” You mutter, eyes still transfixed where he disappeared.

    “Eh, just another creepy dude. If I had a nickel for every weirdo who tries to chat me up…” Jen jokes.

    “You’d have like a whole 50 cents,” sasses Ash.

    You are finally broken from your daze when Ash is pushed into you. You laugh and try to brush off the lingering effect of the handsome stranger, shifting your focus back to your friends. The line goes by quicker than expected, with only one group out of the three ahead of you making it out with stickers. The losing groups return to the line from a back door, bickering about where they went wrong.

    Finally it is your turn. Ash claps her hands excitedly, dancing up the metal stairs to the costumed man at the entrance. His red and white stripped suit is expertly torn and painted with fake blood to make him look as intimidating as possible. With a tip of his top hat he welcomes the three of you and begins to explain the rules in his well practiced accent.

    “Come one come all to the Tricksters Trap, if you’re feeling lost, just go find the map.” He sings with flair and a perfectly timed bow, directing you to the inauspicious black door.

    Taking a deep breath you follow your squealing friends into the darkened hallway. Pausing to look back as the door creaks shut, cutting off the jovial sounds of laughter and chatter with a sudden slam. You flinch at the loud noise and turn back to the dim hallway. The short corridor is lined with wall to wall green velvet curtains barely visible with the green rope lights running along the ceiling.

    “Guys?” You whisper when you don’t see them next to you, causing your heart rate to quicken

    You call for them again, this time louder, your feet unwilling to move from the spot. It has only been thirty seconds and you are already about to call it quits. Get a grip. You take a hesitant step forward.

    “You guys?!” You call shakily.

    “Hey! Come on we found the map!” Jen pokes her head from around the corner at the end of the hall.

    She disappears just as quickly, waving her arm for you to follow. You breathe a sigh of relief and rush after her. You enter a large room filled with all sorts of random objects. It’s as if it is designed to overload your senses. The green from the hall carried on into the room, more velvet green curtains hung on the walls that were not obstructed by shelves of books or other oddities. You saw everything from perfectly aligned glass jars filled with alien looking creatures, grandfather clocks, to treasure chests overflowing with grizzled toys.

    Jen and Ash are hunched over a table with a map spread out smoothly. It was easy enough to see it was a map of the room and hallway, with what appeared to be three small rooms hidden along the wall behind the heavy green drapery. You go over and pull back a curtain and find a locked door, the other two also hiding a locked door.

    “Ok so it looks like we gotta find a way to open these doors” you offer, your anxiety calming a bit as you focus on the mystery at hand.

    “Hey look there is some sort of code over here by the lock on the door.” Ash hollers excitedly.

    You each pick a door code and frantically search the room. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out you need to use the books on the large shelf along one wall. The first number tells you the book the second refers to a specific page. You find a slip of paper in the book with a riddle written in a blood red ink.

    “I make two people out of one” You read aloud.

    “You can hold me in one hand, but I’m used to fill the room” Ash reads hers, her face twisting in concentration.

    You both look to Jen, “I have two hands, but I can’t clap.”

    “Damn no wonder so many people failed, definitely wish I wasn’t drunk right now” Ash laughs.

    “No no we can do this, it’s probably items in the room so let’s just focus. We’ll do one at a time.” You assert, pacing the room and trying to take in all the random objects.

    “Two hands…” you mutter as you stop in front of a large grandfather clock. “Clocks have hands!” You yell excitedly and open the narrow door.

    The heavy pendulums swing inside and you see a shining silver glint off the rounded golden end. You pull off the small silver key, stuck on by a tiny magnet, and jump in excitement.

    “Holy crap! You’re a genius!” Jen exclaims running over to take the key and try it in the door.

    The key slides in smoothly and the door opens with a gratifying click.

    “Woo! Keep going, you are on a roll!” Ash claps as she cheers you on.

    “Ok, ok” you giggle before taking a deep breath. “Two people out of one… maybe a camera? Or wait…” you realize as you stare at Ash currently checking her makeup in an antique mirror hung between two curtains.

    “Ash! Try pulling on that mirror!” You yell pointing frantically at the mirror in front of her.

    Her brows knit together briefly before understanding, grabbing the frame and tugging gently until it swings open, revealing a key hung on the wall.

    “Yes!” You all shriek together.

    Suddenly, the lights flicker and a loud maniacal cackle reverberates through the surround sound speaker, turning your elation into yelps of surprise.

    “Two minutes left” a familiar polished voice echoes forebodingly throughout the room.

    “Shit, that scared the crap out of me” Jen laughs clutching at her chest.

    The warning gives you pause, managing to shift the spirit of the whole room. Ash giggles nervously as she watches the lights of the room transition from their previous dim yellow light to a menacing red hue. The mood lighting in addition to the increasing volume of the horror soundtrack playing over the speaker helps to put you back into your initial anxious state.

    “Seriously? Is this fucking necessary?” You curse, shaking your head.

    “Ok let’s get the last one guys! We can still do this!” Jen yells through the cacophony of sound effects.

    “Yeah what can we fit in our hand but somehow also fills the room?” Ash reiterated the final riddle.

    “These red lights make it so much harder to see” Jen complains bitterly as she rummages through the items inside a large chest.

    “Lights… Jen that’s it! A lightbulb!” A smile breaks out on your face as you figure out the final clue.

    “Look up there!” Ash points to a solitary darkened light bulb screwed into the ceiling.

    “I got it.” Jen jumps onto the table and reaches up, unscrewing it quickly. “There is a key inside!” She shouts.

    She unscrews the bottom of the fake lightbulb and received the key before handing it to Ash. Each of you run over to the corresponding doors and turn the key, squealing in delight when they all slide open.

    “Is that it?” Jen asks looking into the cramped dark space behind the door.

    It was little more than a closet. Barely enough room for each of you to stand in. You were at a loss. You could have sworn that would be the end.

    “Guys there is a lever here on the back wall of mine, how about yours?” Ash’s muffled voice calls from inside her closet.

    “Oh yeah mine too!” Jen replies.

    “Do you think we have to pull them at the same time? ‘Cus mine did nothing when I tried it” Ash says poking her head out to look at you.

    “Thirty seconds!” That haunting voice booms again as a tick clock sounds through the speakers, counting down your final moments.

    “Ok let’s try it together!” You nod at both of them, before stepping into the tight dark space.

    “THREE! TWO! ONE!” You shout, mirroring your friends calls, pulling down your lever with a snap.

    There is a moment of silence as the lights of the room behind you suddenly go dark, the music and sound effects cutting off instantly.

    “Did we get it?!” You yell.

    You don’t get the chance to hear your friends response as the wood door slams behind you, locking you into the small space.

    Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

    #dark fic#dark Loki #dark loki x reader #tom hiddleston #come one come all
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  • witch-hazels-musings
    27.05.2021 - 1 mont ago
    #genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fiction #genshin impact musings #lisa #genshin impact lisa #genshin lisa #lisa x reader #sucrose #sucrose x reader #genshin sucrose #genshin impact sucrose
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  • burberryplaid
    26.05.2021 - 1 mont ago

    exotic ― park chaeyoung

    synopsis: rosé made a huge mistake messing with one of the most powerful people in seoul. let's just hope you're not as merciless with punishments as they say.

    ⤷ park chaeyoung x f!reader || mafia au, stripper!rosé, smut || 1.4k words || rating: M || profanity, bdsm themes, bondage, nipple play, spanking, fingering, oral sex, edging, dom!reader, sub!rosé, usage of toys? (i have no idea how dildos work so if i write something factually incorrect, ignore it)

    bp m.list | navi.

    She knows that she's playing a very dangerous game with an even more dangerous person.

    She knows how Kim Y/N, the underboss of one of the biggest gangs in Seoul has extremely murderous tendencies; tendencies that even her brother, the leader doesn't have.

    Rosé should be scared; and yet she isn't.

    With the florescent lights flashing on her barely dressed body, she holds your gaze while swaying her hips over the pole, hooking her leg around the steel rail and spinning around. All the while keeping her gaze locked on you.

    Unlike the rest of the men and women in the room, your eyes don't follow her movements or trail down her exposed skin as she sways her hips. Your dark gaze rests on her face, picking up the subtle bite of her lip and peek of her tongue when she'd sensually run it over her upper lip.

    Rosé watched you stand up and make your way towards her while she ran her fingers over her exposed cleavage. She wasn't surprised to be called on by one of the owners and led to one of the private rooms upstairs, especially since she knew you'd be behind the door waiting for her.

    Heat pooling at the bottom of her stomach at the sight of your leather clad back beside the bed, she watched you pull off your jacket and slip your belt out of the loops of your jeans. Your eyes fell on her form in front of the door, dropping the belt on the mattress and casually walking in her direction.

    "I don't like being teased." You chuckled, lustful eyes trailing down her nearly naked body. She felt her panties dampen at the sound of your rough drawl along with the glimpse of ink that decorated the expanse of your arm. "But you did it anyway..."

    Rosé felt the rational side of her brain short circuit when your fingers trailed across her cheekbone, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. Her eyes fluttered shut at the contact, tilting her head upwards before boldly pressing her lips on yours. Your body was flush against hers and Rosé felt her face heat up at the proximity.

    The kiss lasted a couple of seconds before you had lifted her up in your arms and tossed her on the silk covered mattress with a tut. "I don't remember giving you permission to touch, let alone kiss me."

    "Please..." She whimpered, fingers itching for some sort of contact as you gathered her wrists delicately before locking them both on the headboard above her head with your belt. "I'm sorry."

    "Its too late to apologize." You breathed, arousal building up at the sight of her body being completely under your control. You grabbed her waist and flipped her around so that she was face-down with her legs apart, giving you an enticing view of her ass and drenched pussy. "Now you get punished."

    Hand harshly coming down on the flesh of her ass, you didn't miss the slight shake of her legs or the breathless moan that left her lips at the contact. Repeating the motion several times, you watched transfixed at how her arousal soaked through the fabric an dripped down her thighs with every spank. Your fingers hooked around the open sides of the teddy before you ripped the bottom half of her body.

    Rosé gasped at the sudden rush of cool air against her exposed body before a harsh moan left her lips when you pushed two fingers into her sopping cunt. "Oh god, please."

    You curled your fingers inside her tight hole, repeatedly pumping your slick covered fingers in and out of her pussy. "Please what?"

    "Please let me cum." She groaned, fingers digging into the restraints as she pushed the lower half of her body against your fingers. " 'm so close."

    Your mouth watered at the way her walls fluttered around your fingers, effectively halting her orgasm by pulling your hand out of her pussy and slowly sucking your hand clean while watching her nose scrunch in displeasure. "Not yet."

    Though the ventilators in the room were blasting cold air, you could feel the back of your shirt stick to your back uncomfortably. Unbuttoning your dress shirt, you flipped her on her back before tearing the remainder of her lingerie off her. Leaning over her bare body, your lips attached themselves while leaving open-mouthed kisses along the column of her neck.

    You harshly sucked on the tender spot at the clavicle of her neck, making a soft moan leave her lips while your mouth trailed downwards. Hands roaming the side of her body, your fingers cupped her breast before softly squeezing them. She sucked in a breath, moaning your name softly as your thumbs flicked against her hardened nipples while your mouth busied itself leaving hickeys down the length of her torso.

    Eyes flickering up to meet her dazed expression, your mouth wrapped around the areola before you sucked harshly. Her back arched while you nipped at the sensitive nipple while your other hand came up and matched the movements of your mouth on her other nipple.

    You could practically smell her arousal in the air, the sweet scent of her pussy enticing you.

    Releasing her nipple with a pop, your mouth descended downwards towards the very part of her you've been craving most. A startled cry left her lips when your warm mouth closed around her swollen clit, tongue swirling around the bud. You hummed at the sweet taste of her pussy, the vibrations from your mouth causing her to moan your name wantonly.

    Your tongue dipped lower, licking a fat stripe from her dripping hole to her swollen clit. "Please... just like that."

    Chuckling, you complied for once; slipping your tongue inside her hole while your finger flicked against her bud. You gripped her thighs tightly, fingers digging into her ass as you buried your mouth between her wet folds and roughly alternated between sucking and licking her clit.

    Her moans were music to your ears and her arousal was borderline addicting while you continued to pleasure her with your lips latched to her sensitive clit. "I'm so close." She moaned, as an almost cruel smirk tugged at your lips right before you released her clit with a pop.

    "No!" Rosé sobbed, glossy eyes making you feel a pinch of guilt for all the edging. "Please let me cum... just once."

    "I promise baby." You mumbled, pressing your lips on her temples before reaching over and undoing the restraints. "Now turn over."

    She complied, shakily supporting the upper half of her body on her forearms while her ass and pink pussy were on display.

    Shredding off the rest of your clothes, you strapped on the eight inch dildo before crawling over to her trembling form. Nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck, you let the curved rubber toy brush against her rim and slit slowly. Not wanting to delay her much deserved orgasm, you pushed the vibrating toy into her hole, the sudden pressure of the toy against your clit making you groan.

    You began to fuck her, hips rolling into hers as your fingers roamed her body. Her head turned to the side, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss and for the first time that night, you kissed back.

    If there was anything that tasted better than her pussy, it was her mouth.

    Slipping your tongue between her pink lips, your hand cupped her right breast from behind while your other hand dipped south and flicked her throbbing clit. With the buzzing of the toy stimulating your clit combined with the delicious sound of her mewls, you felt yourself near the edge. "Come for me baby."

    Her tits bouncing with every thrust, she let out a loud cry; your words being all she needed as Rosé violently came with you. It took a couple of more thrusts to ride out both of your orgasms before you both collapsed on the silk sheets.

    Once your breathing regulated, you turned to your side only to see her knocked out cold after the exhausting session you both had. A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you silently stood up and clothed yourself before tucking her in with a soft kiss.

    "You've been gone for a while." Your brother hummed when you finally made your way back to your private booth.

    "Unfortunately for you Namjoon, I'm going to be disappearing a lot more often now." You grinned, mind flashing to the beauty still sleeping upstairs.

    You didn't know who she was or where she came from; but after having a taste of her, you definitely knew that you didn't want to let her go.

    note: thank you for reading exotic! this idea's been stuck in my head for so long and i am so glad i could finally finish writing it! have a great day and stay safe luvs! <3
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  • meetthetank
    26.05.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Beast Code Chapter 1: The Twilit City

    Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationship: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), Original YoRHa Characters (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Transformation, gothic horror, Android Lycanthropy...sort of, Inspired by Bloodborne (Video Game), Everyday i get closer to just writing a Bloodborne AU

    Summary:  Break the vicious cycle with tooth and claw. Unleash the beast within and destroy your chains. But the strength to defy fate comes at a grave cost. Will it be enough, little doll? Or will you succumb to despair once more?

    Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31546982

    The assignment to the Twilight Belt comes as a shock to 2B and 9S. Rarely, if ever, are YorHa units sent to this border of perpetual daylight and eternal night. Conditions are always reported as unstable by the infrequent scans by one of the other satellite bases that orbit earth, too dangerous to deploy scanners by themselves, and too depleted of resources for the Council to care about. The mystery surrounding the strip of permanent twilight goads curious operators and scanners alike to comb through files searching for nuggets of data, image or video files, anything they can get their hands on. All but a few pieces of data reveal tantalizing scraps and clues to the puzzle of the Sunset Belt. Photographs of dead machines with toothy, gaping maws that split their spherical heads in two and minerals warped in peculiar shapes. According to one of the situation reports from a scanner that had been sent there, there was an eerie, foreboding feeling about the place; that strange and frightening sounds would echo across the landscape and that he felt close to a forbidden barrier that separated this world from another. Though the file and its contents are now treated as a human “ghost story”, many androids, including 2B and 9S, believe at least some portion of the tale.

    9S relays this story to 2B as they descend to Earth’s surface, his chattering easing some of 2B’s trepidation. The pair had fallen into an easy rhythm over the course of several assignments to Earth, most of which involved retrieving data from lost servers buried in rubble or clearing out an area of machine lifeforms. Despite her outwardly cold demeanor, 9S wormed his way past all of her defenses, forming a strong, solid relationship with the battler android. His voice is a centering point for her and assists in ignoring the gut churning possibilities of what could be waiting for them below.

    “...What do you think, 2B?” his voice crackles from the comms system inside her flight unit.

    “Hm?” she shifts her head to the side, glancing at his jet black flight unit cruising beside hers.

    “What do you think made the target go rogue?”

    She bites her lower lip. There are a thousand possible answers as to why a normally punctual, efficient YorHa Battle unit would suddenly stop responding to command and not checking in at required times. Only a few of those options were machine lifeform related complications.

    “We’ll find out when we arrive, 9S.” she says curtly, eager to shut down the conversation, “Focus on landing protocol.”

    He sighs, a sound of annoyance and frustration, “Yeah, yeah.”

    “One affirmation will-”

    “Fiiiiiiiine.”

    The final phase of their descent is spent in silence. They pass through the Earth’s atmosphere in streaks of fire and light towards the border of day and night, and a continent that humans called Europe. Even as they descend, the outlines of ancient, massive structures come into view. Both androids are used to the thick vegetation eating away at the remains of human structures, but here the trees are gnarled, twisted, and void of leaves or blossoms. Their branches reach to the crimson sky and permanently setting sun like bony hands in prayer or a stag’s antlers. As 2B and 9S set their flight units down a few miles away from the outskirts of a sprawling, ancient city. It amazes 9S, as he exits his own unit, that the buildings are in such good condition considering the millenia that have passed it by. Great spires of countless cathedrals pierce the heavens, casting an ominous, looming shadow over the otherwise barren landscape. A well worn cobblestone road, lined with rusted iron lighting fixtures long since burnt out, leads into the city proper. 

    2B and 9S stand at the precipice of this ancient beast of stone and metal in awe of its size, and terrified of what might lurk within. A hoarse bird’s caw, jolts the androids back into awareness, 2B drawing her katana and prepares for battle.

    “Heh,” 9S laughs, trying to calm them both down, “Just a raven, 2B.”

    “What?”

    “A large black bird. Harmless to us.” He doesn’t tell her about the chill he gets down his spine as he watches the corvid gaze down at them with beady black eyes, or how humans saw these birds as ill omens or prophets of death.

    They begin the trek into the forgotten city. 2B doesn’t put Virtuous Contract away.

    Pod 042 alerts 2B to the presence of an unidentifiable android signal, marking the location on both hers and 9S’ map. Since the area has yet to be properly mapped out by satellite imagery (as inaccurate as that process is) only a vague street layout is available through a very low power scan. They have no way of judging what might block their path to the target beyond featureless grey masses depicting buildings, rubble, large trees, or whatever else may lie in wait. Their target, represented by a small orange dot on the map, appears to be near the city’s main gate and inside one of the larger buildings. 2B refuses to admit it to herself, but she’s relieved to not have to delve too far into this labyrinthine city.

    “I’ve never seen the sky this color…” 9S muses as he stares up, transfixed by the blood red sky and orange sun hanging low.

    Though hauntingly beautiful, she won’t deny, 2B keeps her gaze fixed on the wrought iron gate ahead of them. The heavens disturb her; they are the color of death. Of war. And the sun is… wrong. 

    She snaps at 9S to keep focused as they approach the gate to the city. Though scans indicate there are no machine lifeforms, or any lifeforms beyond their target, she’s learned from countless combat assignments to not rely totally on what the support unit reports. She’s encountered and seen machines that mask themselves from scans or camouflage themselves in the environment, and in a place like this anything could be hiding in the shadows just outside of view. 

    The iron gate lies ajar, worn from millennia of neglect. Clouds of rust particles burst from the hinges as 2B shoves it open further, the metal grinding against itself with a horrible grating shriek. The sound makes them both wince, and they slip through the partially opened gate as soon as they can.

    Standing inside the city gates, 9S can’t shake the uneasy feeling that claws at the back of his mind. The great ancient human structures loom above them, and though he knows that the buildings themselves aren’t alive, he can’t shake the notion that he’s being watched by them. The windows are dark, but when he passes by the light of the setting sun reflects off of them, giving them the illusion of intelligence. Suddenly, 9S feels as if he’s inside a cave, or locked in a room with no exit. Suddenly… He finds it hard to breathe. 9S tugs at the collar of his jacket as if it's tightening around his throat. His synthetic lungs fill with air as much as he can take, then he releases it moments later. It calms him, if only a little.

    2B’s gaze is fixed ahead on the building Pod 042 marked as the rogue android’s hiding place. It’s a much smaller structure than the others that choke the sky, but its reach stretches across the streets like a tree’s roots. Judging by the well preserved signs that hang from crumbled doors it looked to have multiple uses. 9S commands his own Pod to run scans on the words and symbols for later analysis. 

    “The target’s in here…” 2B murmurs, holding her free hand up in a tight fist, signaling 9S to stop behind her.

    This portion of the sprawling building is similar in structure to the massive spires above. It has the same pointed section on the roof, but much smaller in scale, and similar symbols decorate the exterior. A cross, winged humans, various flowering plants, and a number of human figures bowing their heads or supplicating themselves to the winged humans.

    “This must have been a place of worship,” 9S muses aloud.

    “Focus.”

    He nods. Typically 9S argues with his partner about the necessity for recording data like this, or excuse his wandering attention to his designation as a scanner, but he knows the danger within the house of worship, or rather, he doesn’t know. Neither one of them knows what this rouge android is capable of. 

    2B presses her hand against the wooden doors to the chapel and pushes it open as slowly as possible. It groans in protest, dust falls from its hinges and frame, but it swings inward. A rush of warm air washes over them carrying the scent of stale incense and dead machines. Clouds of smoke billow out of the doorway, rising into the red sky like twisted fingers. 2B enters first, sliding in sword arm first. She motions for 9S to wait for a moment, then commands Pod 042 to switch on its flashlight. 

    9S peeks his head around the door, keeping a few paces behind his partner. He switches on his own Pod’s flashlight to illuminate more of the pitch black interior. Long wooden benches are pushed up against the walls, opening up the center space. Ornate candle holders, rotting books, charred incense burners, and pieces of artwork among other things 9S has no name for are scattered across the ground, each one a priceless human artifact that could fuel hours of study. Yet it’s not these that hold 9S’ attention, but the statue at the far back of the chapel, and the figure kneeling in front of it.

    It looks to be made of some kind of marble, a pristine white stone that has been sheltered from time and the elements. The subject is another winged human, this one wearing splendid armor and wielding a great spear. Beneath them, a grotesque, writhing beast bares its teeth and claws at the warrior as the blade pierces its throat. 9S has never seen anything like it in person, and very few records of these kinds of sculptures remain at all. It’s both horrific and beautiful at once. He wonders what the human who made this saw that inspired it. Did creatures like these roam the world during their time?

    2B steps in front of him, Virtuous Contract at the ready. The figure in front of the statue rises to their feet as the Pod’s flashlights center on them. A cloak made of feathers conceals most of their form but they appear to be a female android, perhaps a YorHa model. Though, if that were the case it would have been in the mission briefing. That is, unless... 

    The android turns her head to the side, glaring at the pair over her shoulder.

    “So, Command sent the wolves, did they?” She asks, a distinct rumble in her voice.

    2B raises her blade and keeps her gaze steady. She hears 9S also ready his weapon, the golden katana Cruel Oath. 

    Lazily, the android turns her body to face them. Her clothes confirm her origins; there’s no mistaking the sharp white embellishments and black velvet of a YorHa uniform; however each piece is ripped, tattered, and stitched together with other scraps of clothing or… animal hide. 

    The rouge android drags the blade of a bloodied top heavy sword between her fingers, cleaning the gore from it. “It doesn’t matter, dog.” Her eyes shine with a strange, purplish light that refracts around her collapsed, twisted pupils. “You will fall like the rest.”

    It isn’t until the rogue android rushes forward, sword raised, that 2B sees the corpses of YorHa units piled in front of the statue, and the blood that soaks it.

    She dashes backward and shoves the bewildered 9S out of harm's way. The android’s bloodied sword crashes into the stonework floor, sending thousands of years of dust into the air. 2B lunges, her katana poised to take advantage of the enemy’s opening, but she sidesteps much quicker than anticipated. The rogue’s fist slams into 2B’s chest, distorting her internal sensors and throwing her off balance. 2B watches in horror as the rogue drives her sword towards her, but a golden flash knocks the blade away. 

    “2B!” 9S shouts, brandishing Cruel Oath. “Are you okay?!”

    She shakes her head as if it would clear the internal errors from her vision, but she assumes her battle stance next to her partner. “Fine.”

    Both androids launch into an assault on the rogue, attacking in tandem. Despite 2B’s scrambled sensors, she and 9S have an undeniable synergy that comes with countless missions. 2B forces the rogue back with singular, powerful blows, while 9S jabs at any opening he can reach from the sides. However, even with their combined might the rogue deflects and maneuvers out of the way of each attack as casually as one would flick away an insect or step around a puddle. She looks to be expending no effort at all as she dances around the two YorHa. Anger and frustration rises in 2B, culminating in a harsh growl. She mimics the rogue’s tactic from earlier, rushing forward and feinting with a crushing overhead strike that is easily dodged but allows no time for recovery. She slams her fist into the rogue android’s face, sending her stumbling backwards. Before 9S can dive in with a horizontal slash the rogue dashes backward, putting crucial distance between her and her hunters.

    The rogue android lowers her gaze at the pair, sizing them up, taking stock of their abilities and assessing their weaknesses. 2B watches her eyes dart back and forth between her and 9S, then linger on 9S. Sensing the rogue’s motive and deciding at that moment that the outcome is unacceptable, 2B dives in front of the strike meant for 9S. The rogue’s sword slices cleanly through her chest, coating the rogue’s clothes in splatters of fresh blood. The battler falls to her knees, clutching the wound with one hand while supporting herself on her sword. 

    “No!!” 9S screams and lunges at their target. “2B!!”

    “Hm. Interesting.” The rogue murmurs, easily deflecting the scanner’s wild strikes.

    2B watches through blurred, error obscured vision as 9S drives the rogue back. If she didn’t know any better it’d seem that he has the upper hand, but the rogue’s eyes glint in a way 2B recognizes all too well. She’s baiting him. 

    9S slams his blade against the rogue’s, pressing all of his power and weight into the strike. It’s the moment she had been waiting for. Suddenly she pulls back, letting 9S’ weight fall forward and forcing him off balance. She kicks his legs out from under him then shoves him into the floor. 9S lets out a startled, choked gasp as his weight and the force of the rogue’s attack cracks the stone floor, sending up more clouds of dust into the air. 

    Clutching her chest, 2B roars and charges at the target with blinding speed. When she sees the smirk twisting the rogue’s lips and the pointed iron rod in her grip, it’s too late. With a flash of her crowfeather cape, the android meets 2B’s charge with her own, the skewer aimed at her wounded chest. 2B tries to divert her body away, but the momentum is too strong. It’s just enough to roll her body to the side so that the spike pierces clean through her shoulder, clear of critical systems. 

    The pain, however, is agonizing. 

    It’s different from the injuries 2B has suffered in the past. Countless machine swords, spears, and axes have torn through her body and of course all of those injuries hurt, but they were manageable. When the iron bar rips through layers of cloth, skin, carbon plating and frame, and synthetic muscle fibers it's as if her shoulder has been set on fire. She clenches her teeth, muffling a scream to a low growl. Her hand wraps around the skewer, close to the wound itself. Instinct tells her to tear it out immediately, but she knows that without treatment doing so would only worsen her condition. 2B doesn’t get to make that decision, unfortunately. The rogue grabs hold of the end of the iron rod and twists it side to side, driving it further into 2B’s shoulder. 

    2B sinks to her knees and tries to hold back the cries of agony. Her injured arm stops responding to commands and lies limp and useless against her side. She swats at the rogue android with her weakening other arm, desperate to escape from this torment. Her strength fades along with her vision; it becomes impossible to even hold herself upright.

    She must not fall, she must not… she must stay strong, she must stay alive.

    She will not allow him to die… 

    Not for the sake of a monster like her….

    9S leaps into the fight as the rogue android prepares a killing blow. A flurry of Pod fire, sword strikes, and furious movement all blur together into a white, gold, and black haze. She fights to stay awake, she fights to stand, but her body begins to shut down non-vital systems and conserve as much energy as she can. First her tactile sensors switch off, leaving her in a numbing cold. Then her hearing, quickly followed by sight. A warning flashes across the last vestiges of her vision that she is entering a forced shutdown state, and despite her audio sensors being deactivated, she swears she hears 9S cry out for her.

    ….

    ….

    …….

    ………

    ……….

    ……..

    ….

    2B opens her eyes to the blinding, sterile white of hacking space. This itself is not shocking. Oftentimes she would run diagnostics on her critical systems when in a forced shutdown, both to manage critical systems and to keep herself busy. 

    But now, in the distance, there is an anomaly.

    A single figure, black as night, approaches her. It’s shape is human up till its head, which sports pointed ears and a long snout like that of a dog or wolf. It looms over her and leaves a black, fragmented mist in its wake. But most troubling of all in this world of stark monochrome is its eye…. or what 2B believes is an eye. In the center of its lupine face is a strange geometric sigil that emits a highly saturated purple light. It feels… malicious. The thought itself is insane to 2B. Light cannot possess intent or emotions, and yet… 

    “This is an unacceptable outcome.” A voice booms in her head. Somehow she knows it is the entity speaking. 

    2B opens her mouth to respond, but instead of words, thick crimson fluid leaks from her throat.

    “You will die. He will die. You cannot abide by this.”

    She shakes her head. Droplets of blood fall to the pristine floor. The entity is right. If she has any strength left, 9S will live.

    “Stand, little doll,” the entity commands, “Stand and unleash y-...Be——…..d.”

    The entity’s voice becomes warped and distorted with audio glitches, yet 2B understands its words with frightening clarity.

    “Take-......l-...s within.” 

    It holds a hand out to her, offering her something she can’t quite make out. The shape in its palm is amorphous, colorless, and flickers with lines of jumbled code. Somehow, she knows this piece of herself in intimate detail, yet cannot remember what this does or what its relation to the entity is. 

    But it promises strength enough to save 9S.

    2B reaches out and takes the code in her hand… 

    ….

    ………….

    …………………………

    ………………………………………………………..

    Her eyes snap open. A current of raw energy runs through her body, electrifying every nerve and sensor within her. She shakes with each pulse of her circulatory apparatus as a new, terrifying strength takes hold. 2B rises to her feet, flexing her hands, legs, arms. One arm’s movement is restricted by the iron bar still stuck in her shoulder. She tears it out with little effort, casting it to the floor. The rattling, hollow sound echoes against the stone chapel. 

    The rogue’s head snaps up from her combat with 9S, who is barely able to hold his sword. Something in her expression changes. She kicks 9S and points her sword at 2B, her arms shaking in a way they had not before. 

    2B lunges forward, her sword raised high. The rogue raises her own sword to deflect, but 2B’s newfound strength breaks her guard with one mighty strike. With blinding speed 2B slices through the rogue android’s body. Her crowfeather cape flutters to the floor, soon followed by her arm. The rouge android staggers back, an expression of shock and horror twisting her face. 2B drives her sword through the rogue’s chest, forcing her back further. Instead of drawing her sword back for another strike, a terrifying feeling takes over 2B. She leaves the sword inside the rogue’s chest and tackles her to the ground. With her bare hands and horrible strength, 2B delivers blow after blow to the android’s chest, shoulder, arms, head, and abdomen. Each piece is reduced to a pulp of flesh and metal one after the next until nothing remains but scrap. 

    2B throws her head back as she straddles her victim, a horrible, twisted grin plastered across her face and arms outstretched. Her body feels wrong… horribly wrong, yet for the first time since she can remember, her chest is light. She gazes up at the morbid sculpture with an emotion she can’t quite describe. It isn’t the same as a combat high, she is intimately familiar with that heady rush. This is something akin to… euphoria. A laugh begins to bubble up in her throat-

    “2B?”

    She’s forced back to reality by the 9S’ voice, right beside her ear. Suddenly, the terrible strength from moments before fades from her body. Her arms go limp by her sides, and it becomes hard to sit upright. Even breathing is laborious. 9S wraps his arms around her shoulders and tugs her gently, laying her head and shoulders against his chest.

    “I’ve got you. We… I think we’re safe.” His breathing is uneven and ragged, much like 2B’s. He swivels his head back and forth, searching for any lingering threats as quickly as possible. “Pod, run a scan for machine lifeform or android signals in the immediate area,” he commands.

    Pod 153 is silent for a moment, then emits a grating, hideous garbled noise. Words try to break through the audio distortions but neither 2B or 9S is confident it isn’t simply what they wish to hear. 

    “Alert:” Pod 042 begins, “Interference from unknown source is preventing accurate scans of the surrounding area. Proposal: Relocate to an elevated aaaaaaa…..a-r-....rrr……”

    The same audio distortions come from 042, mingling with 153’s until they both cut off, leaving the androids in silence. “Pod?” 9S calls to the floating support unit. “Pod, respond. ... Pod?”

    2B mutters weakly to her own Pod, but it's the same as 9S’. No response at all.

    9S pulls up a small data screen, map data, from what 2B can tell. Or… where map data would be. Instead, there’s a blank, grey screen and a little message box that reads No Data. 

    “What the-...” 9S whispers, flipping through different screens at a frantic pace. “Where-... There’s… all the data is gone!” he shouts, “No map, no signal scans… I can’t even connect to the Bunker…”

    “We’re stranded…” 2B muses aloud.

    Silence passes between them. Only the ominous wind passing through ancient wood and stone reminds them that the world hasn’t stopped moving around them. 

    “We should move to a higher area, like your Pod said.” 9S suggests, rising to his feet. “Can you stand?”

    When 9S offers a hand out to her, 2B takes it without thinking. His touch, even through his thick gloves, calms the beast pacing inside her. 

    Beast? 

    …..What does that mean?

    2B rises to her feet, her hands lingering in 9S’ for a moment longer than she normally would. There’s a fog in her head that distorts her equilibrium. She leans on 9S for support, to which he wraps his arm around her waist and positions himself under her shoulder.

    “I got you.” He says with a small smile.

    2B feels just a bit lighter.

    They exit the chapel and make for higher ground. 9S rationalizes that if they simply continue up stairs or inclines they would find a space clear of whatever is interfering with the Pod’s satellite connections. Perhaps it’s the fog that creeps across the cobblestone streets or the odd angle of the sun (not that it makes sense to 9S or 2B but they have to consider all possibilities), or perhaps it’s something beyond that. There’s a strange, eerie feeling about this city that neither can explain, and neither want to talk about. As if there’s a presence constantly watching over them.

    They climb the stairs of one of the massive sprawling religious buildings. From what 9S assesses, it seems to have one of the tallest spires in the city. Only a larger time-keeping building looming in the distance is larger. If he could reach the top he should be far enough above whatever is interfering with the Pods. When he relays his plan to 2B who only nods, her eyes unfocused and breathing shallow, worry starts to lace its icy fingers through his chest. Something is wrong with her. 

    9S’ first instinct is to prepare a data backup with the bunker, but the Pods are both out of commission for the time being. His next is to contact command and ask how they should proceed, to the same conclusion. Climbing the spire is the only course of action he can take, but first, he has to make sure 2B is safe.

    He leads her through the castle of worship, now supporting most of her weight. That… frightening show of strength must have exhausted her power supply. There are plenty of well preserved wooden benches that stretch across half of the main worship chambers, at least it would be more comfortable than the stone floors. Under watch by the countless grotesque statues that sit in the rafters, 9S helps 2B onto a long bench, laying her on her back. She hisses and grinds her teeth as she moves. She must have sustained internal damage from that fight… 

    “I’ll be right back,” he promises, “I’m going to go to the roof to get a clear signal.”

    All 2B gives in response is a slow nod. He lingers by her side before leaving, a moment longer than needed.

    Now alone in this spacious, hollow, human structure, 2B takes stock of her condition. There’s pain in her shoulders, particularly her right arm. Her legs are tight, most locking up from the strain of the previous battle and trekking up to her current location. Her back, as well, is tense beyond discomfort. It spasms and jolts if she breathes too hard. At least these are injury related, explainable. The black wolfman with purple eyes lingering in the corners of her vision, is not. 

    She sees the entity in the shadows, lurking just out of view. 9S walks right past it, not even sparing a glance at the tall, gangly creature. It doesn’t respond to 9S either, instead focusing on 2B and only 2B. 

    The sight of it makes her stomach turn. She tries to close her eyes, but the glowing, purple sigil is burned into her vision. With a groan she digs her knuckles into her eyelids as if she could carve the hallucination out of the air. Defeated, 2B lets her arms down once more. One hand touches the cool stone floor, decorated with elegant mosaics, and she suddenly realizes how warm she is. According to the warning messages displayed in her vision her body temperature is ten degrees above normal levels. 

    “Pod,” she groans, forcing herself to sit up, “retrieve water from storage-”

    “Report: Mail notification received from Command.”

    The monotone voice of her support unit shocks her. Pod 042 had been silent up until now due to whatever interference was in the area, and now it’s getting messages from Command? 9S must have established a connection from the roof.

    Her heart sinks. If that’s the case he would contact her. The first thing she’d hear would be his voice.

    She opens the message, dreading its contents.

    Subject has accessed confidential records. Eliminate the Target.

    At the top of the spire 9S takes in the view of the entire city, the wind rushing through his hair. It’s breathtaking. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen. The sky dyes the entire urban sprawl red, as well as the mountains on the horizon. His pulse races as he drinks in the terrifying awe of what the ancient humans were capable of, hoping to remember every last detail of the buildings, the streets, and the magnificent sculptures that litter the city. It’s all so well preserved that he feels as though a human might appear, walking down the cobblestone streets as if nothing were wrong. As if they didn’t go extinct. 

    Reluctantly he draws his attention away from the splendor of humanity’s ruins, and shakes away the creeping emptiness that comes with that line of thought. He can’t think about that now. He and 2B are stranded. 9S produces a holographic terminal that mirrors Pod 153’s settings menu. Pod’s diagnostics on his end show buildup of foreign material in and around certain receivers, something that 9S expects, but that is only part of the problem. It seems that the atmosphere in this place is clogged with various chemicals and particles that make satellite transmissions more difficult. Considering all of the decaying metal and stone it’s no wonder that there’s so much particulate in the air. Once Pod’s receivers are clear 9S has Pod 153 hover just above the spire’s tip. It stays suspended in the air, the small light on the top of its body turning on and off at regular intervals.

    “Connection established.” Pod 153 announces moments later. “Proposal: Contact the Bunker for support.”

    “Great! Set up a relay connection for Pod 042 as well.”

    “Affirmative.”

    9S opens a data screen laden with information and begins composing his message to Operator 21O. With an unreliable connection a live call would be too risky, a simple text based message won’t be distorted or cut out. He records a brief message, attaches a transcription of his words, and sends it to the Bunker. Hopefully 21O would send something quickly-

    A flash of movement in the streets below catches his eye. Something running on all fours... “Pod… run a scan for machine lifeforms…” He says, a chill creeping up his spine.

    Pod 153 floats down to his side. “Alert: Multiple machine lifeforms detected. Proposal: Regroup with Unit 2B.”

    “But-” 

    That thing didn’t look like a machine…

    “Alert: Anomalous signal detect-”

    Pod 153’s words are drowned by a horrific, mournful howl that reverberates through the entire building. 9S clings to the ornate decorations on the spire and covers his ears with his free hand. His body runs cold. He’s never heard a sound like that before. Nothing the machines make comes close to that. The pain and sorrow in that noise is something that no animal could produce either. That left only one possibility…

    Another roar wracks the building from within… 

    2B clutches the sides of her head, the data screen long dismissed.

    No…

    Her chest strains under her panicked breaths. 

    No.

    She hadn’t been watching him. She hadn’t been keeping track of his questions and behavior…

    No… No.

    And now she…

    No no no no no .

    She has to…

    no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.

    NO.

    She will not do this. Not again. 

    Her skin feels… tight. 

    She will fight off every single goddamn android Command sends until there are none left but her and him. She will not be a part of this cycle again. Her hands curl into fists as a surge rushes through her body, alighting her nerves with energy. With power.

    A shadow moves across the stone floor of the castle of worship. The entity, its form inky black, its sigil emitting a baleful purple light, glides towards her. It bathes her in the highly saturated light, a light not even shielding her eyes can diffuse. It bores into her core, it peers into her mind. It speaks into her mind.

    “You will not allow this to happen.” Its voice echoes off the hollow shell of where humans once sought God. “But strength comes at a price, little doll.”

    The entity plunges its claws into her chest. Heat explodes throughout her body to the point where she fears she might self-destruct. The boiling tendrils of this ethereal monster sink into her artificial heart and her Black Box. Something activates, or… unlocks, and suddenly she feels… confined. Her body… it’s too small….

    “Time to pay the toll…”

    It rips its claws, now writhing shadow-like whips, out of her chest, then vanishes. 2B’s vision is obscured, but not by warnings and error messages, by blood. Red veins pulse on the edges of her sight in time with her heart. Each beat sends waves of heat, electricity, and agony through her body.

    “Stand, little doll. Stand, and unleash your beasthood.”

    A scream forms in 2B’s throat, but it cannot break through her swelling throat and gritted teeth. She takes frantic, shallow breaths. Her limbs shake, her fingernails dig into the stonework floor. It’s so hot… 

    2B rolls onto the floor and rips away her tight uniform. Far too tight. Parts of her dress were already beginning to tear as her muscles swell. Blood trickles from various wounds where her skin has split, revealing the thick, synthetic muscle cords that lie beneath. Her blindfold is next, but removing it does not help her vision. One eye is unfocused, blurring all of her vision.

    She drags her fingernails across her body and lets out a deep, animal snarl when she tears into her own flesh. Looking down at her hands, she recoils at the sight of long, black claws that split her fingers down the center. Skin falls from them in long strips to the point where the mechanical joints of her hands are exposed.

    Something snaps inside her, somewhere in her upper back. She howls in agony, in sorrow, as her spine lengthens, twists, and grows too fast for her body to maintain. Her insides are compacted and grind against each other, sending sickening vibrations throughout her. Her throat finally opens up, allowing her to breathe. She watches as puffs of steam escape her mouth into the warm twilight air. 

    Another crack and something explodes out of her lower back. Her balance is thrown off and she falls forward, smashing her face into stone. Another snarl, this one combined with the gnashing of fangs. Her mouth warps, splitting out of her face into a muzzle. Eyes follow, one swelling to fit its now spacious socket while the other stunts and refuses to change. She claws at the peeling skin of whatever she can reach, spilling more of her blood in the process. Everything hurts, everything itches, but oh god the power feels so good.

    A growth springs from above her unchanged eye, weighing her head down and hunching her body over. She supports herself with one enormous hand, the other scooping the wires and tubing that spills out of her torn stomach and forcing them back inside her abdominal cavity. The twisting extension of her spine, a tail, thuds against the floor and counters the weight of her head. 

    2B shakes the mane of bloodied, white hair from her functioning eye, turns her head to the sky, and roars.

    View Full
  • stardusttrashed
    26.05.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Lovestruck (4)

    Part 3

    Part 5

    Pairing: Professor Erwin x Fem! Reader, Connie x Sasha

    Word Count: 3K

    “You even look pretty when you go to sleep,” Erwin praised under his breath, his voice filled with an early morning huskiness. He gently ran the back of his fingers along your cheek down to your jaw. “Just wan’ to stay home all day with you.”

    “You better not play hooky, Mr. Smith,” you chuckled as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “Even if you kept your word.” You could feel him jump slightly at the sound of your voice, which only spurred your chuckles on further.

    “Mornin’ darling,” Erwin mumbled against your forehead as he tried to play off the fact that your voice startled him. He slowly pulled away, just enough so he could look at you again. His heart fluttered in his chest as your eyes fluttered open. “H-how long have you been awake?”

    “Long enough to hear you talk ‘bout how pretty I am when I sleep,” you cooed as you lazily played with his hair. You kept your focus on the blond strands that slipped through your fingers, too scared to meet his adoring gaze. It was a little overwhelming how he’d look at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel his ocean eyes committed to memorizing every little detail about you.

    “Well, you are,” he smiled sheepishly. “You’re stunning when you’re asleep and when you’re awake.” He inched his hair closer to your hair, resting his palm on your cheek as his fingers grazed your hairline by your ear. “And I bet you’re stunning with your natural hair.” His eyes grew wide with worry, “n-not that your hair doesn’t look good now!”

    “Who said this isn’t my natural hair Erwin Smith?” you asked with a teasing smirk on your lips. It was cute how interested he was in your hair. Even now, you could feel the mixture of eagerness and hesitance as his hand inched closer and closer to play with your hair. You leaned forward enough to let his fingers slide through your flat-ironed hair, watching his eyes twinkle with wonder.

    “The way your wispies curl,” he smiled as his fingers took a break from running through your hair to play with your edges.

    “My wispies,” you repeated him with a loving smile. “Wow, I-,” you stopped yourself with a chuckle. “I promise we can talk about my hair later,” you began to untangle yourself from him, making your way out of the bed, “after you’re done with work.”

    A groan fell from Erwin’s lips as he followed your lead, clambering out of bed. “So, are you stayin’ here or going back to your place?” He wasn’t sure why referring to your place as your home felt so odd to him right now. It almost felt wrong, leaving a nasty taste in his mouth. He had no right to think this way. He knew that. It was just one night. And sure, he’s taken you out on plenty of hangouts that teetered on dates for the past month or so. Yeah, sure, he knew he was in love with you since the second hangout-like date. How could he not? But, there was no telling if you felt the same. You could’ve meant numerous things last night.

    “You’re welcome to stay and keep Sina company,” he quickly tacked on, breaking free from his thoughts.

    Your eyes followed him as he walked towards the bathroom, unapologetically checking him out the whole time. Sure, he looked good dressed up with those button-up shirts that clung to his muscles for dear life, but it was nothing compared to him now. Walking around with his hair disheveled, in nothing but his underwear, damn it was a sight. A sight that you wouldn’t mind seeing every morning and every night for the rest of your life.

    “Was thinkin’ bout heading home. I can come back later, though,” you paused, taken off guard as he not so casually stopped in the bathroom doorway to stretch. “O-or you two can come over later,” you continued as you watched the way the muscles in his back tensed and flexed as his arms reached up towards the ceiling, just barely missing it.

    Erwin looked over his shoulder at you with a devilish grin, “Well, before you abandon us, do you want to keep me company in the shower?” One of his eyebrows arched up in a playfully seductive way.

    “Wow,” you chuckled as you shook your head, “abandoning you? Really ?”

    With a slight shrug, a sheepish smile relaced his devilish grin, “what can I say? I enjoy being around you.” He strode across the room towards you. “Want to keep you around as much as I can,” he whispered under his breath as he scooped you into his arms without warning. “If that’s alright with you, of course.”

    There it was again, that quiet, smooth voice of his that you noticed would often interrupt his usually confident and collected voice. One moment he was the one causing the blushes, and the next, he’d revert to a friendly giant, blushing and stumbling over his words like a schoolboy.

    You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb grazing his flushed cheeks. There was an overwhelming sincerity in his eyes that left you flustered and wordless. “Erwin… you should hurry before you’re late for work.” You pressed your lips against his in a chaste kiss, “I’ll get my bag and join you in a bit, ‘kay?”

    “You brought a bag?” Erwin asked with a half-cocky smile, tightening his grip around you. His cheeks were blazing, but it did little to soothe the overwhelming cockiness surging in his chest. You wanted to stay the night.

    “Y-you’re stalling, lover boy,” you argued embarrassedly, pushing against his chest gently as you tried to get out of his arms. “Go shower before you’re late.” You raised your eyebrows at him, sending a warning look that Erwin ignored with a mischievous grin. “Erwin,” you exclaimed as he began carrying you towards the bathroom. “I need my clothes and tooth-.”

    “-I have an extra toothbrush you can use. And you can wear one of my shirts,” he set you down on the counter.

    “And a shower cap?” Erwin’s eyebrows bunched together in confusion, giving you all the answers you need. “Soo, I still need my bag,” you chuckled as you smoothed out the wrinkles in between his eyebrows with your thumb. “Gon ‘head and hop in,” you jumped off the counter, “be back in a min’. Hopefully, I packed one.” Before he could protest further, you skiped away towards the front door, the soft pitter-patter of feet following close behind. A ball of fluff brushed against your leg, desperately to stay close and figure out your destination. “Morning, sweetheart.” Sina yipped in reply, following you out to your car. You giggled softly as she poked her head into your car after you opened the door, sniffing around excitedly. “Come on, princess, daddy’s waiting on us.”

    Locking the car behind you, you and Sina made your way back into the house and eventually back to Erwin’s room. “Wait here, sweetheart,” you told Sina before you closed the bathroom door.

    The sound of Erwin’s quiet, baritone humming greeted you first, quickly followed by the steam drifting in the air. You plopped your bag down on the counter before rummaging through it. You searched and searched despite there only being four things in the bag, thinking maybe if you checked just one more time, it’d magically appear.

    “Good news and bad news, babe,” you sighed in defeat, taking out your toothbrush and a pair of jeans you didn’t remember packing. “Bad news is I can’t join you in the shower,” you explained as you pulled on the pair of jeans. The childish whine that left Erwin brought a tender smile to your face. You prepped your toothbrush before continuing, “but, on the bright side, you can see me in your shirt still ‘cause I forgot to bring one.”

    Erwin turned off the water with a dramatic sigh, “I guess my whole day is ruined now.” He couldn’t help the rumbling chuckle in his chest as he reached around the curtain for his towel. “Woe is me,” he whined, finally pulling back the curtain as he wrapped the towel around his waist. “On second thought,” he breathed, frozen in place with an idiotic grin on his face. You had no right being that cute doing something as mundane as brushing your teeth. Yet, his eyes had no intentions of looking anywhere else, transfixed on your adorable figure.

    “What?” you garbled, toothbrush still in your mouth.

    Erwin chuckled, finally stepping forward as if your one word released him from whatever spell he was under. “N-nothing, you just… you look cute.” He strode over to you, stopping behind you as he reached for his toothbrush.

    “C-cute?!” You spit out with wide eyes that met him in the mirror. You rinsed your mouth, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. “You think ’m cute while brushing my teeth?” You finally spoke again once you were done. “Geez, gotta be careful, or someone might say you have it bad,” you teased as you stepped from in front of him.

    “Wouldn’t be wrong,” Erwin mumbled as he quickly brushed his teeth.

    The rest of the morning went by fairly quietly, both of you too busy blushing to come up with much else to say to each other. You made the bed and fed Sina as he got dressed and gelled down his hair.

    “You didn’t have to to that, I would’ve done it,” Erwin spoke, slightly startling you.

    “I-it was no problem, really. One less thing for you to worry ‘bout.” You smiled over your shoulder sweetly, your eyes immediately falling to the forest green dress shirt he was adorning. “I- you copy-cat,” you exclaimed with a giggle as you turned to face him. “I mean, the color looks good on you-.”

    “I know,” Erwin cut you off. “That’s why I have a shirt in the same color,” he boasted as his eyes flitted down to the forest green t-shirt you took from him. “However, I, uh, I like how it looks on you more.” He tilted his head to the side, taking in every bit of your flustered reaction.

    Why were you both like this? Why were you both still turned into blushing messes despite everything that happened last night?

    “On that note, you should go before you’re late, and I’m going to leave.” You hesitantly closed the distance between you, stopping right in front of him. You placed your hand on his chest with a loving smile, “have a good day, ‘kay?” After a quick peck on his lips, you scurried out the door, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding once you got in your car. “He’s going to be the death of me,” you whispered to yourself as you drove home.

    ***

    “Where’ve you been? I almost starved to death,” Sasha screeched as you walked towards your front door. Before you even had a chance to jump from being startled, her hands were on your shoulders, shaking you. “Are you trying to kill me?” she whined, pretending to cry.

    “I should ask the same thing,” you mumbled, slipping out of her grasp and towards Connie, who was standing at your front door. “Morning,” you said in more of a question than a statement. You were hoping he could fill you in on why in the hell they were there so early without you having to actually ask.

    “BFB day? Best friend breakfast,” he spoke slowly, emphasizing each word, “Your day to cook, remember?”

    “Course I remember, dummy,” you murmured with an eye roll. “How could I forget?” Erwin, that’s how. With a sigh, you moved to unlock the door but was held back by a tugging on your shirt.

    “When’d you get this?” Sasha inquired, placing her chin on your shoulder. “Looks cute on ya,” she quickly added with a giggle. The smell was unfamiliarly familiar. It didn’t smell quite like you, but it was familiar somehow. Sasha didn’t even hear whatever you said, too caught up in trying to figure out the smell and fighting off the slow death of hunger.

    “So,” Connie asked, trying to keep his voice down, “where were you?” He leaned on his elbow, resting against the counter as he ate an apple. “Ya never answered Sasha earlier. Almost like you’re hidin’ somethin’. Bet it’s the same place you got that shirt.”

    You looked up from the pancakes in the skillet in annoyance, “drop it, idiot.” You flipped the pancake over, “or I won’t make you any breakfast.”

    “Ouch,” Connie groaned, “someone’s touchy.” Connie finished off the apple with an obnoxious amount of crunches. “Is it a, oh I dunno, a boy?” Connie asked louder than necessary, with a smug smile on his face.

    “A boy,” Sasha squeaked as she clambered off the couch to her feet. She clumsily ran across the room, bumping into Connie, “which one? Greek God? Oo, we’re talkin’ bout him, aren’t we? What’s his name,” she smacked Connie’s arm as she thought aloud.

    “Ethan? Nah, Eren- wait, no, that’s definitely not it, ignore that. Ugh, come Y/n give us a hint,” Connie groaned.

    You shook your head softly with a laugh, “you two really do share a brain cell.”

    “Erwin! It’s Erwin, isn’t it,” Sasha smiled smugly as she noticed you tense up momentarily. “Weird name. Kinda like Eren, but it’s like his parents said make it fancy y’know. Wait! You-.” The pieces were slowly sliding into place for her, “you didn’t!”

    “Didn’t what?” Connie asked with a confused yet blank expression on his face.

    “I didn’t,” you argued timidly as you turned off the stove, sliding the last pancake onto the plate.

    “Hey, Erwin,” Sasha squealed, making your head whip around in her direction. She smiled deviously at you with your phone pressed to her ear.

    “Connie- I, er, I’m going to kill you both,” you growled, running over towards her.

    “What did I even do?” Connie whined, his eyes wide with fear.

    “So, not to be nosy or anything? But like, did you two do the deed last night?” Sasha giggled childishly as she ran from you, dodging around the furniture towards the front door. “Hm? Oh, yeah, ’m Sasha, Y/n’s friend. Pretty sure we met before- yeah, exactly!” She carried on the conversation as if it were nothing, dodging your attempts to snatch the phone from her with ease. “Wait- hey!”

    “Hey, bab- er, Smith,” you cooed embarrassedly into the phone, turning away from the pair of idiots so they couldn’t see the goofy grin on your face. “What’s up?” Every inch of you was buzzing with child-like excitement, so much that you could hardly contain it. You absentmindedly twirled your hair around your finger.

    Erwin leaned back in his chair with the phone casually pressed to his ear. Just the sound of your voice filled his stomach with uncontrollable butterflies that fueled his giddy excitement. “Hi, Darling,” Erwin said in a honeyed, husky voice, quietly praying to himself that you couldn’t hear the waver in his voice. “I, uh,” he chuckled shyly, “well, I forgot to bring a lunch and…” He trailed off as he rubbed the back of his neck. He felt so childish calling you like this.

    You glanced over your shoulder, keenly aware of the pair trying to discreetly listen in while eating the breakfast you cooked. You lowered your voice, just enough so they hopefully couldn’t hear. “Maybe if ya spent less time flirting this mornin’,” you jabbed teasingly. “Anything special in mind?”

    Erwin bit his lip, “surprise me.”

    “Don’t do that.”

    “Do what?”

    “At least tell me what kind? Asian? Italian? Fried?”

    Erwin laughed heartily, “I promise I’m fine with anything. Just bring something you like, alright?”

    You rolled your eyes, “bye, Erwin. Be there in an hour or so.”

    “I’ll be waiting.”

    You quickly hung up with a flustered huff, tossing your phone onto the couch. You hated and loved how much his words affected you—three simple words. Three words, and here you were heart racing in your chest like a horse in the Kentucky Derby.

    “Aren’t y’all cute,” Sasha was the first to break the silence, her mouth stuffed with an inhuman bite of pancake. “So who asked who?”

    “Didn’t think either of ya had the guts,” Connie mumbled into his cup of orange juice.

    “Wait, huh?” You stared at Connie and Sasha with a puzzled expression. “What’re y’all…?”

    Connie sighed heavily, shaking his head with a pitying frown on his face. “And here I was, thinking you were the brains of this group.”

    “Because I am,” you cut him off.

    “She’s referring to you and Erwinie dating,” he continued as if you never said anything. “Unless,” he pointed his fork at you and raised his eyebrows dramatically, “this was a hit it and quit it.”

    “No!” You bit your lips, desperate to pull back the outburst and act calm. “I mean, uh, it wasn’t a one-night stand… but we also, well uh, haven’t made anything official. I dunno, just feels implied, y’know.”

    “Yeah, yeah, whatever, go be a good girlfriend who’s not actually his girlfriend,” Connie teased you as you grabbed your car keys and headed towards the door.

    “Food’s the best way to a man’s heart,” Sasha called out, “even if he’s old! You should get him somethin’ to eat.”

    “He ain’t even-.”

    “And make sure one of you has the balls to actually make it official,” Connie shouted over you.

    “Wait- I,” you groaned and shook your head, letting your argument die out. “Gee, thanks, mom and dad,” your voice dripped with sarcasm.

    “Anytime, sweetheart. Oh, and make sure he brings you back in time for movie night.”

    “And no funny business.”

    They continued to shout out parent-like advice and warnings as you left your apartment, their muffled voices still heard through the closed door. As much of a headache as they were, you adored their support. With them in your corner, you knew you could overcome anything, even the jitters forming at the thought of actually asking Erwin to make it official.

    #shingeki no kyoujin erwin #aot erwin #erwin x y/n #erwin x you #black reader #erwin x black reader #erwin smith x you #erwin smith x black reader #aot #aot x black reader #snk fluff #erwin smith fluff #snk x y/n #snk erwin #connie x sasha #snk erwin fic #snk fanfiction#aot fluff #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk sasha#snk connie#erwin smith #erwin smith fanfic #erwin fluff#erwin fanfic #erwin smith fic #attack on titan #attack on titan x black reader #attack on titan x reader
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  • viva-asgardia
    25.05.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Part 7

    Pairings: Loki x black!original character, Loki x Tony Stark, Tony Stark x OC

    Rating: M, 18+ only

    Word count: 4,441 words

    Plot: Loki gifts their lover an Avenger for their one year anniversary. Things heat up when the God of Mischief becomes the God of Passion!

    Warnings: For 18+ readers, contains swearing and a lot of smut, including BDSM, humiliation, praise kink, rope bondage, sex toys, unprotected sex, oral and anal sex, and discussions around consent, boundaries and safe words (keep it safe kids). Gets a bit dark.

    Notes: Canon, what canon? After the events of Thor Ragnarok and Endgame, but basically in a multiverse where Loki is still alive to annoy everyone and Tony isn’t a married hetero dad. The character is a blend of film! Loki and comics! Loki. The OC is a afab enby. Everyone is gay, I don’t make the rules.

    Tagging: @saiyanprincessswanie

    ————

    “Oh shit,” she said softly.

    Gone was the arrogant, self-contained expression of her partner. In its place was the feral, wicked face of the god of lust and perversity. Their red eyes were almost black, bright with inhuman want. Loki’s lopsided grin, sometimes cocksure and sometimes disarmingly soft, had become lecherous. They climbed on top of Claude with inhuman speed, pinning her down. They removed the witch’s strap on slowly, dragging the rough material against her slickness, watching with satisfaction as her breath quickened and her hips raised slightly in response. They spoke with a chilly softness.

    “Hello, my teasing little slattern. I’ve freed myself so that you can worship me.” They kissed Claude roughly, pulling her willing body close. The witch melted into the cool, familiar touch of her lover. She felt as though she was drowning in lust and magick. She needed more, all of it.

    The god flipped the witch over, rubbing their covered arousal over her ass. They nipped and kissed the soft skin of her bottom and thighs, making her gasp in delight. Removing their helmet, they consumed her cunt ravenously, drinking in her magick, her desire, her scent. They made obscene noises of pleasure as Claude cried out in bliss. Tony looked at them with wide eyes, touching his unbearably hard dick. This had turned into a fucking weird, but also fucking hot day. The god stopped their feast, drawing a groan of complaint from both Claude and Stark.

    Loki wrapped themself around the witch, kissing her back lovingly. They licked her neck as a hand stroked her folds idly, making her whimper. The god’s black eyes gazed at her calmly. “I will give you unbearable pleasure until you pray to me to stop. You will kneel to me this day, witchling, and I will accept your submission.”

    “God, you talk so fucking much, Bambi. Get on with the show! ” Loki frowned at Stark, who put his hands up. “Sorry! Continue with your whole dark sex god thing. It’s great, really. Totally hot.”

    Claude rolled over and looked at Loki with a steady expression, making a quick decision. She adjusted her face to look bored once more. “How can I believe you, Trickster? I mean, today is Thursday, so it’s your brother’s day. Your dad’s day was yesterday, your mom’s day is tomorrow. How can I submit to a god who doesn’t even have a day named after them? Maybe I should see if Tyr is available.” She pouted as Stark snickered. Loki stood up and removed their briefs, letting their thick Jotun cock spring forth. Claude barely had a moment to react before the god impaled her, their entry eased by the witch’s wetness. She screamed as the trickster fucked her ruthlessly, the rhythmic sound of their flesh meeting filling the room.

    “You utter brat. You must enjoy being punished.” Loki followed each word with a deep thrust that led to another moan. They both knew that she very much did. The god barked a command at Stark. “Get my box!”

    The avenger scrambled across the bed and collected the forbidding looking, rune-covered box. As he passed it to Loki, he watched Claude’s face, the look of tense anticipation and joyful, decadent pleasure creating a glow of magick. The two looked like sensual figures in a Caravaggio painting, all well-lit skin and full, softly parted lips. He wanted both of them. He kissed Claude gently, stroking her braids, feeling a sense of contentment when she smiled at him. He rose out of bed and moved behind the god, wrapping strong arms around hard torso. Stark moved the prince’s long black hair, nuzzling their neck. His voice was thick with sex.

    “I wanna fuck you, Bambi. I need to feel you around my dick again.” Loki’s smile became wilder.

    “You shall, Anthony. But first, I must deal with my insubordinate witch.” Stark moaned in frustration and desire, returning to bed slightly cross. Loki pulled out of his lover, dick glistening with her desire. Tony crawled over and straddled Claude as he greedily swallowed the trickster’s shaft, happy to taste them both. His tongue ran down the ridges of Loki’s dick and he gently rutted his hips and dick over Claude’s stomach as he sucked.

    Loki gazed at him, power shining in their face.

    “Enough.” Stark reluctantly stopped, moving away from the couple. “Anthony. Get me the crop and clamps.” Stark’s eyes widened as Claude sighed. He soundlessly rustled in the box until he found them, giving them to Loki. The god slowly spread open the witch with one knee as they traced the vicious toy down the witch’s quivering pussy. They then gave a sharp flick of the wrist, the leather making a brutal slapping noise as it connected with overstimulated flesh. Claude shrieked as the pain and pleasure overtook her.

    Loki held her gently as they bent down, rough, cold tongue stroking the heat of her folds. With each lick, the witch sighed as she was soothed. Until the cycle happened again, and again. The teasing stroke, the sharp, hot pain of the crop hitting her swollen lips, followed by the cruel, soothing touch of a perverse god. It was depraved, and Stark had never been so turned on. He stroked the witch’s face as her back arched and spasmed, kissed away the tears falling from eyes that burned with dark pleasure.

    “Anthony. She deserves no soothing from you. Desist, and put on these clamps.” Loki gave them to him, but Stark hesitated. Loki’s voice was soothing and almost normal. “She can take it. She would say if she could not. Trust us, Anthony. Or we can stop now.” Tony took the clamps slowly. He looked at the couple and placed the chained clamps on Claude’s hard nipples, causing her to hiss through gritted teeth. Loki licked a path towards her breasts, looking wickedly at Tony. They licked each captured nipple, drawing a deep shudder from the witch.

    “Now the coldness of my touch will remain with you, providing no relief, only a deepening sensation. Such is the will of your lord.” Their voice was a lazy drawl. Stark held his breath. This was the villainous Asgardian that he knew, cold and haughty.

    They took the crop and moved it to Claude’s breasts. Again the terrible process of coy drag followed by vicious hit, only this time cold touch provided no respite. The god continued to fuck Claude’s pussy with their fingers, smiling as her arousal covered his hand and fell onto the bed. Loki did this for only a short time, lovingly speaking to their partner as they hit them, silver tongue providing the only reassuring warmth.

    “You are doing so well, my darling witch, my queen of pleasure. This is a punishment that befits your glorious power. You are so beautiful when caressed by pain. Shriek for me again, my dearest, your cries fill me with such sweet lust.” Stark groaned at the display, hand gripped firmly on his shaft. Loki stopped, giving the witch a moment to recover. Her breathing was shallow, golden eyes glazed. They kissed her tenderly, touching her forehead.

    “Do you want this to be over soon, my sweet witch?” Claude nodded, her lips parted. “Then prepare yourself.”

    The god turned her over gently, and she cried out as the friction from the sheets touched her sore, enchanted nipples, still bound by clamps. Loki pulled her ass closer to them, and reached for their paddle. They spanked her mercilessly as Stark watched, transfixed. She moaned as her back curved in pleasure, looking at Tony with naked, greedy lust. Loki entered her once more, the hard thrust of his hips accented by a well-placed smack.

    “Oh-oh-oh! Oh god!” Claude gasped, her cheeks hot, so close to the blessed relief of coming. Loki’s eyes narrowed as they pulled her hair. “And who is your god, mortal?”

    “I-i-it’s you!” Stark gave a small gasp.

    “And what is my title?” They bent over her, fondling her nipples. Her eyes rolled back.

    “My-my lord, my prince!” She was so close! Loki spoke into her ear, victorious eyes on Stark.

    “Then say my name, my beautiful, quivering jade.” Claude moaned, covered in sweat.

    “L-l-loki! Loki! Loki! Fuck! Fuck me, Loki!”

    Her head was pulled back once more.

    “Beg me for your release. Now.” Their face was intense, voice cold. Claude shivered.

    “Please, my prince, fuck me until I come. Loki, please.” Her voice was desperate.

    “Do you submit to your god?”

    “Y-yes! I submit! I kneel! Please!” Loki uttered a filthy moan and filled her with their length, holding her lower back to steady themself. She looked at Stark, face needy.

    “Tony,” she beckoned, siren once more. He complied without much fight as she took him inside her mouth, making him growl. He rocked into her mouth gently, shuddering as her tongue moved against his shaft and tip, her moans vibrating against his dick deliciously. He held her head as he jerked deeper down her throat. It was all too much pleasure. He was a simple genius, billionaire playboy, unused to such antics.

    “I’m gonna, I’m gonna-“ he groaned, dick twitching as he came down the witch’s throat. He cried out as she cleaned him off, swallowing every drop with an obscene slurp. He gave an involuntary laugh and fell on the bed, spent.

    Loki pushed the witch down and fucked her with preternatural speed. She moaned and screamed and called out their name in lustful litany until her her mind went blank and she could only grunt and groan as the orgasm was ripped from her body. Loki growled as they watched her come, and could contain themself no longer. They ground their strong hips into the exhausted witch as they came with a low cry, filling Claude with spurts of their thick seed, dripping onto her skin and the sheets. They had won.

    They fell on top of the witch in a heap and gingerly turned to the side, pulling her close in an embrace, knowing their cock would remain hard and immovable for several minutes yet. Stark grabbed a blanket and wrapped his limbs around them both. Both avenger and god soothed the overstimulated witch, vanishing the enchantment and removing the painful clamps. Stark kissed her sweetly and wiped her tears as Loki stroked her hair and apparated a cool, damp towel for her forehead and abused, swollen sex. They whispered sweet nothings into her ear. Soon her shivering and shallow breathing were replaced by the quiet, steady rise of her chest. Her eyes started to refocus.

    “My sweet, darling witchling. I adore you, I love you. You did so well. Are you alright?” Stark looked at her reassuringly as Loki pulled out, adjusting themself and returning to their earlier form. They let out a sweet, happy noise as they snuggled closer, breasts pushing against Claude’s back.

    “I’m ok,” she said with a shaky, tired voice. “‘S fun. Good sex. Good job.” Loki and Stark shared amused smiles.

    Loki kissed her back softly. “You submitted so well, my dear. Thank you for trusting me.” The god took Stark’s hand. “Thank you for trusting us, and sharing yourself with us.” Their gaze was serious and sincere. Stark felt his face go warm. He’d never seen the trickster like this, attentive, caring, soft. Huh. Maybe Earth had changed them. They squeezed Loki’s hand.

    “You’re getting soft in your old age, Reindeer Games. Ow!” Loki used their seidr to slap his ass.

    “Speak for yourself, Anthony. 1,050 years is still young on Asgard. Not like you. I’m surprised you didn’t break a hip or collapse into dust.” Stark snorted. Maybe he had given the god too much credit. They were still an annoying shit.

    The trio spent the rest of the day in the suite, previous plans placed on hold. They enjoyed each other’s company and embrace, dozing in bed for a while before moving into the living room, wrapped in warm dressing gowns. They had a boozy brunch on the terrace, with Stark eating the newsstand samosa happily. Crowding on the sofa, Loki rested their head on Stark’s shoulder, holding Tony’s hand as he draped his arm around the god. Claude rested on Loki’s lap, legs draped over the armrest, as the god stroked her hair. They read and watched Christmas films, quietly enjoying the day.

    As the night went on, as conversation and dinner and happy, tender kisses were shared, Tony stretched and stood up, looking at the couple.

    “I should probably head out,” he said softly. “This was a weird, but good time.”Loki and Claude protested.

    “Can’t we tempt you to stay?” Claude said, cheekily opening her gown to reveal a sliver of exposed skin. Tony gazed at her, his eyes wandering down.

    “I, uh... no, I should go. Duty calls.” Loki elegantly rose from the sofa, transforming as they stood in front of the avenger. Their eyes were sultry and coy as they backed him into the wall.

    “But Anthony,” they said, voice like velvet. “Claude hasn’t received her punishment yet.”

    “Wait, I haven’t?” Loki shook their head, raven hair cascading over their shoulder in soft waves.

    “I am afraid not. And Anthony told me that he needed me earlier, and I would hate to deny him the pleasure of my body.” Loki’s smirk was triumphant as they guided Stark’s rough hand downward, into their robe. Stark let out a defeated moan.

    “You are both fucking monsters.” He pulled Loki close, kissing the god intensely. Claude slowly grinned. This was sexier than expected. Stark dragged the god back into the bedroom and ripped off their velvet robe. He pushed them face down into the sheets, grabbing Loki’s ass. Claude walked in to watch as the trickster gave a delighted laugh.

    “Not so quickly, my reanimated friend!” They looked at Claude slyly, which made her feel very worried. “My dearest love still has to receive her punishment, if she thinks that she is ready for it.”

    “Only if it isn’t too rough. I’m still recovering.” Loki’s eyes were soft with understanding.

    “It will require very little pain or effort, my darling. Do you trust me?” Claude sat down on the bed and stroked their hair.

    “Always, my Trickster. Always. Alright, let’s do this, I want to see Tony plow that hole!” She smiled excitedly. “Can we film this and put it on Only Fans? Oo, can I put this on my group Whatsapp, for reasons?” Loki and Tony looked at her in confusion. Tony rolled his eyes upward.

    “God save me from these goddamned millennials. No, you are not allowed to film me fucking your partner. We are not going to have Avengers sex tapes on the internet, Eastwick.” Claude huffed. “Fine. Whatever.”

    Loki glowed green and a femme illusion of Loki appeared, taking the witch’s shoulder. “I know how long you have wanted to see this, witchling.” Loki spoke kindly as the illusion removed lube from the box. “As the final part of my anniversary gift, you get to see me submit fully. The illusion passed the lube to Stark, along with a ball gag and restraints.

    “Aw, Prancer, I didn’t know it was my anniversary too. I’ve been trying to shut you up for years.” Loki ignored the grinning avenger as Claude gasped in delight. It was like all her Christmases had come at once.

    “However,” the god gave a moan as Stark entered them with lubed fingers, his other hand lightly stroking their member. “However, since you submitted, your punishment will be thus. You can only be a voyeur to my pleasure. You will not be able to participate, you will not be able to take any pleasure for yourself.”

    Claude’s face dropped. “Wait, what?” Loki looked at her seriously.

    “Those are the terms of your punishment. If you choose not to accept them, you will have to leave while Tony fucks me senseless.” Claude glared at them.

    “Gods damn you. Fine. Fine. Punish away, you bastard.” The illusion grabbed her, rope in hand. Loki gave a pleased smile.

    “To ensure that you do not touch yourself unwittingly, I am going to tie you up. First, a few garments, I do not want to harm you.” The witch found herself clothed in briefs and a soft lace bra. “Dashing as always,” the god said sweetly.

    The illusion carefully tied up the witch, pulling her arms back, restricting her wrists. The ropes were gently harnessed around her neck, breasts and stomach, before being wrapped around her thighs. She was forced into a kneeling position, back straight, legs only slightly apart.

    “I told you that you would kneel for me.” Loki could feel Stark’s excitement against their ass. “Anthony also thinks you look beautiful.” Stark nodded, not trusting himself to speak. “Does it hurt, my dearest?”

    Claude shifted slightly, trying it out. “Only slightly.”

    “Perfect. Let your punishment begin!” Stark kissed the god’s muscular back, holding the gag. He placed it carefully around Loki’s head, avoiding their hair, tightening the metal clasp. The god made a muffled sound of joy. Stark put the restraints on, so that Loki’s arms were locked behind them.

    “Does this feel alright?” Loki nodded. “If you need to stop, hold out two fingers. I’ll see them.” Stark let out a ragged breath of desire, looking at Claude. Her face was enrapt. Stark took the lube and slathered his own length. He held the god firmly down, so that all Loki could do was stare at Claude and take it. He entered Loki slowly, gasping at their tightness. He thrust gently at first, as the god moaned, their eyes shining.

    “I want you to take all of me, princess,” Stark said forcefully. Loki whimpered. Stark knew exactly how to press their buttons. Years of enmity had resulted in a sexual friendship where humiliation only added to the fun. Stark’s hips begun moving faster as he held the god’s waist close. Claude watched her consort being pounded, her eyes locked on theirs. Loki’s eyes were half closed in bliss as they cried out with each thrust.

    “Your little hole feels so good around my dick, Bambi.” Loki sighed. “You must’ve been a prized treat for Asgardian warriors, huh? Did they pass you around after every battle so that your ass could provide a hero’s welcome?” Loki grunted, snarling. Stark draped himself over the trickster’s back, clutching their shaft roughly.

    “Oh, I’m sorry, did Prancer not like that? ‘Cos your icicle dick is telling me otherwise.” Claude’s breaths quickened as her partner was given a hand job by the avenger. She could feel the waves of her arousal crashing over her. Loki gazed at her, eyes dark, messy hair fanning over their face. Never had they seemed so vulnerable, so fragile. Claude’s nipples strained against the flimsy bra, and she could feel her arousal trickle down her thigh. Just as Loki wanted. She let out a frustrated moan.

    “C’mon princess, you’re being so good for me. Keep taking it, there’s my good little god.” Loki’s cheeks turned bright crimson, desire and shame warring in their eyes as they groaned and whined. Claude looked surprised as Stark glanced at her. He gave an incredulous laugh, smile cocky.

    “Oh! The God of Mischief didn’t tell you how hard they get when they get a bit of praise! It’s amazing. You should try it!” He pulled the god up, holding their chest tightly.

    “Loki? Would you be ok if I try?” The witch asked gently. The trickster looked down and gave a small nod, flustered. Claude smiled reassuringly. She wished that she could hold them. “You look so beautiful like this, my princeling. You’re doing so well, taking Tony’s dick.” Stark pushed the god back down again, pulling out completely, before slowly entering again with each compliment. Wide-eyed, Loki shuddered and moaned as they were complimented and toyed with.

    Stark slowly rubbed the god’s shaft, causing them to tremble. “Is this what you missed, Prancer? Getting fucked up the ass by the man who defeated you?” Loki’s eyes rolled back, drool pooling from their gag. Stark gave a small laugh as he felt the god grind their ass against him. “You’re so needy, aren’t you? Maybe I should drag you outside and let everyone watch as I take you.” His voice was stern, lust making him hoarse.

    Claude shivered. This was fucking hot. Loki’s eyes turned red and they rolled their hips, desperate to be filled. Stark obliged, pumping his thick shaft into the god, grunting over them as he dealt with the Asgardian’s coldness surrounding his member. Loki pushed their face over the bed, slowly removing the gag. When their mouth was free, their cries filled the suite.

    “Gods, fuck me Tony, you bastard! Conquer me, you pathetic mortal!” They took deep breaths as the Avenger slammed into them while jerking them off. They gazed at Claude with a smile on their face as they were fucked, covered in Stark’s sweat, moaning as the sound of their bodies filled the air. Their breath hitched as Stark continued, grunting praise.

    “C’mon princess, come for your hero. Make me proud and shoot that sweet load for me.” Stark kissed their neck and pulled back their hair. He winked at Claude as he stroked the base of Loki’s shaft, raising the god up so that Claude could see more clearly. “You can do it, show Claude what a good princess you are.” Loki gasped, face aflame, and came with a heavy grunt, covering themself and the bed in their release. Stark held him tightly, groaning as he filled the god with his load.

    His legs gave out and they both fell forward. Panting, Stark laid on top of the god until the feeling in his limbs returned. He rolled over. “I really need a shower. A long shower. You’re both tryin’ to kill me!”

    “How do you think I feel? I need these off me, now!” Claude exclaimed, impatient. Loki muttered an incantation, removing the restraints. They undid the gag and put them both in the rune box. They sluggishly moved toward the witch, untying the ropes. They raised an eyebrow when they felt how wet she was.

    “An effective punishment, I see.” The silver tongue and arrogance had returned. They released her and she pounced on them, kissing them tenderly.

    “Shut up, princess.” Loki groaned as they turned scarlet, their dick hardening once more.

    “May the All-Father and all the spirits of Hel curse your unworthy hide, Anthony! What hast thou unleashed!” They swore more insults as the witch whispered sweet praises in their ear, guiding them into her.

    Stark looked at them and shook his head in disbelief. Youth. “You’re welcome, Reindeer Games. I’m gonna go take a shower. Catch you gremlins in a bit.” He threw up a finger in departure as he walked towards the bathroom. He caught a glance of his reflection and did a pose with a small smile. “May have more grey, but I’ve still got it,” he muttered.

    As he showered, relaxing under the powerful blast of hot water, he could hear the laughs and moans coming from the bedroom. He smiled fondly despite himself. He liked this Loki. They were still an unbelievable shit, but the sharp, dark edges and pain and hatred seemed to have quieted a bit more. The witch seemed to have calmed the raging storm in their heart, and that was good for everyone on the planet. Plus they were both incredibly hot. Christ.

    As he stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a fluffy towel, he could hear the couple calling out go him.

    “Come to bed, Tony! There’s plenty of room!”

    “I promise that I will not smite you while you slumber, Anthony.”

    “Keep your pants on, you monsters! I’m coming.” Stark chuckled as he walked back to the bedroom. He could learn to enjoy this sort of attention.

    ———

    Tony was chugging a smoothie when the couple entered the Avengers common suite the next morning, still in their pyjamas. Hawkeye was angrily rifling through his cabinet.

    “Who keeps eating my goddamn food?” He slammed the door.

    “I think I saw Parker take something,” Claude said smoothly as they sat on the sofa. “If you want, I could talk to him.” Hawkeye grumbled no thanks as he walked out, Claude knew he couldn’t bear to upset Peter Parker. Loki smirked.

    “I have taught you well, witchling.” Claude grinned at her, taking her hand and giving it a gentle kiss. Stark smiled at them.

    “Morning gremlins. Want something to drink? If it takes a while, it’s because I’m fucking sore from my battle against two monsters last night.” Loki gave a wicked smile.

    “Tea, please!” As Stark bustled around the kitchenette, the god and witch crept toward the counter quietly. When Stark turned around, they stood in front of him, looking studiedly nonchalant.

    “So, we were thinking-” Claude started.

    “Always dangerous with you two.“ Stark looked at them suspiciously. Claude cleared her throat.

    “We were thinking. Would you like to spend the holidays with us, Tony? We have plenty of space in London. We had so much fun yesterday, and we’d hate it for you to be alone in this tower during the holidays-“

    “Not me, I don’t care,” Loki interjected, earning an annoyed elbow to the boob from Claude. “Confound you, witchling,” the god grumbled.

    “Come stay with us. Please. We can show you around our haunts, I have friends who would love to meet you. We even have a few presents in mind for you, Mr Stark.” Her voice was rounded with promise. He looked at them both and shook his head, laughing.

    “Alright, Double Trouble, fine. I’ll stay with you in your villainous lair for Christmas. But only for the sex and mince pies.” Claude wrapped her arms tightly around the Avenger, and he kissed her on the forehead. As the witch took the tea set to the sofa, Stark pulled a scowling Loki into his embrace.

    “Don’t worry princess, we’re all gonna have a lot of fun this Christmas, as long as you’re very, very good.” Stark gave a sly laugh as the god blushed.

    “I think that I will smite you after all, Stark.” Her voice was icy with annoyance. Stark kissed her hair and dragged her back to the sofa. They had a lot of holiday preparations to make in a short amount of time. Stark grinned as he sat down. He was looking forward to his first mini Avengers Christmas, and this felt like the start of something wonderful and new.

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