#YOU CANNOT STOP THE ELECTRICITY SHOOTING RUNNING THROUGH THE BODY

[candiedspit]

GRB 080319B 

For a month, I was a smudge. 

A mute monk in the bathtub, lukewarm water running as dull colors rolled around my head like fractured, aged marbles. Thoughts lost strength before fruition. I called out of work once a week, faked a cough, a car accident, another funeral. When I did make the drive out to the office, I spent most of the time typing a word, deleting the word, and typing the word again. I stopped taking calls. Mary left me beautiful voice messages. I listened to them while I laid on the couch, sprawled out like an active disease, furious tears streaming down my face. I knew it was stupid. A feeling cannot kill you. But then, I was being diminished. I was receding. 

I know you don’t feel well right now. But listen, I have these neighbors who still have their Christmas lights hanging up. It’s April. I sorta hope they leave them up all year round. 

I stayed frozen for a few weeks. 

Vitamin D and herbal teas, coffee and long novels. But then, I can’t explain it. It was Friday afternoon. Just a Friday afternoon. 

It began when I left the office. A slow bloom rose throughout my entire body. 

I noticed how all the buildings stood scraping against the most gorgeous, thin blue of the dying afternoon, rising evening. The wind felt kind. I didn’t go home. I went to the supermarket and held an orange in my hand, feeling the small indents with my thumbs, smelling the bright zest. It was as though everything was real again. That night, I bought a pack of cigarettes. I hadn’t smoked since I was nineteen. But I inhaled and let out a giant laugh at how lightheaded I felt, I walked through the streets like that, laughing and laughing, the laughter like the magician’s scarf being pulled out and out. It was a fantastic feeling. I felt fearless. As though I could scoop the fear and pain and shit out of myself like a pudding. I had capabilities. 

When I got home, I rushed in and had a shot of blueberry vodka and opened the windows and called Mary; she answered within a couple of rings. That gorgeous rodeo clown. I loved her as much as I loved anything. 

I never thought I’d hear your voice again, she said. But this worries me, y’know. How blue was the sky today?

I’m coming to see you, I said. Not tonight. But soon. I’ll stumble on your porch like a speedball. The sky was fantastic. I’m smoking.

Hm, she said. Listen, stay out of trouble. A feeling cannot kill you. I’ll save some tea for you. Come anytime. Come anytime. 

I couldn’t sleep. I played the same image in my mind, again and again. And words fizzed in and out too quickly for me to catch them. A church of nukes. Do you understand what you are signing? Perfume made of whale semen. Dominoes. 

In the morning, I could feel the angels looking over me. I imagined them like teenagers, shooting the shit, smoking and coughing and pointing. I spent the weekend in bars, meeting everyone on earth. A woman with a strong russian accent who told me the world was going down the toilet and we were all there for the ride. A man who asked me for three cigarettes and then told me he had coke if I wanted some. I spread a little on my gums. But it was a fifteen minute headache, it had nothing on the feeling within me, the glow which propelled and drove me around. I fucked the russian woman. 

I called out of work for the week, claimed I’d contracted HIV and needed time to grieve. I felt awful about the lie. It was ridiculous. But anything could happen. And I wasn’t wasting my time at a computer when I could see patterns in the streets. I wore a long, leather coat and wrapped it around my waist. And beneath, a black thong strung across my hips. I felt like a machine, I felt electric as I walked through the advertisement pus of Times Square, a cigarette beneath my teeth. I rode the trains for hours, befriending the other passengers. And for a moment, I forgot my address. It was nine in the morning. It was the middle of the night. I got nervous anytime I saw a police officer; there was a criminal in my heart. What was I doing? 

I went down to the village to visit Mary as promised. I felt breathless, sensitive to light. I was tired. It’d been years since sleep. I felt as though I was dying. A star exploding in reverse. Mary would know what to do. 

I knocked on her door and she answered as quick as she answered the phone. I smelled her vanilla scent. It made me nauseous. But I was so glad to see her; so glad she was there. I dated Mary for eight years. There was nobody on earth who knew me better than she did. 

You don’t look great, she said. Are you eating?

Not really, I told her as i walked into her apartment. I feel like I need a touch up. My engine is black. I’m running out of oil. I think I lost my job. I don’t know what day it is. 

It’s Saturday, she said. Three in the afternoon. It’s May and spring is here. Have a seat. 

I sat on her couch. 

I think I’ve been hexed, I said. A spell has been put on me. A poison. 

You’ve been here before, she said. Remember? That arrest in Ohio? Disturbing the peace? And the outburst in the museum. Banned from the gas station. A wild iris in your eyes. A desire for mountains. The call is coming from inside the house, Adam.

Mary gave me a cherry tart. I ate half of it and began to weep. Mary gave me a sleeping tablet. And when I woke up, I was horrified. 

When I got home, Mary had left me a voicemail. I laid down naked on the floor and listened. 

You’re a wife with cold feet. Shivering in the dressing room. You’re an astronaut grazing the face of the moon, blind to the wars on earth. You’re brave. You’re pathetic. You go to the amusement park to weep. You walk out onto the avenue to dance. You sneak into a club. And you feel nothing when the band plays, the gilded brass and vulgar scatting. 

And maybe you deserve it. 

#my poetry #Fiction

[devilishlyhandsome123]

They Come Alive at Night pt 2

Here goes my pt 2 since Tumblr wouldn't let me post it all in one spot....

Warning ⚠️: 18+ only, NSFW, supernatural, shape shifter, Daddy Dom, semi non-con, biting, scratching, blood, animalistic and carnal!! 🥵 find your after care in this episode, Buck up and enjoy!!

Refresh to the last sentence if pt 1: your body shakes and heats up as you approach climax....

Chris is pounding into you now, over and over again. You are so close, but cannot find your release.

"I need your release kitten." He begs. "Cum for me please?"

He starts kissing your neck and continuing his assault on your pussy. He runs his hand up your side and rolls your nipple in his fingers, careful not to cut you this time. The added electricity from your nipple to your clit has you falling over the edge hard. Your voice is unrecognizable to you as you scream through your orgasm, moaning and thrashing. Chris holds on to you and follows right after, filling you with his seed.

You both lay there, him still inside you, trying to catch your breath. He raising up on his elbows and you notice that he's back to normal. No more nails, no more pointed ears, no more extra teeth. He has such a beautiful face. You reach up and push a strand of his hair back and run your fingertips down his face.

"I'm so sorry it had to happen this way. As soon as my monster smelled you, I couldn't stop it. I had to have you. I could feel you in my bones."

You just look at him and smile, not able to find words. He kisses your nose and pulls out slowly. You wince, but oddly enough you find the feeling incredibly arousing and moan again. Chris looks at your face trying to read you.

Before you can stop him, he dives into your sex and starts licking you. Your hands shoot into his hair. You are way too sensitive and he has you shaking in a matter of second. You try to clamp your legs together as the orgasm rocks your body, but his hands are strong and holds you down. When you finish he licks you clean.

"You taste so damn good." He rumbles.

He pulls you into his arms and takes you into the bathroom. He runs a warm bath, pulls you in with him, and sits you with your back to his front. His long legs wrap around you and he washes your body for you. Not once does his kisses stop. He kisses your head and your neck and your shoulders. You could get used to this. You both sit in the bath until the water grows cold and then he lifts you out and wraps you in a towel. He even blow drys and combs your hair for you.

"I'll be right back. Get ready for bed." He says.

When Chris leaves the room, you go to the sink to brush your teeth, but you notice a white, almost silver strip of hair amongst your dark brown hair. You are fingering the strand when Chris comes back in, wearing sweat pants. He looks at you and smiles.

"It's from my bite. It's a marking that signals everyone around that you're my mate, my Queen." He walks up to you and runs his fingers through your hair.

You let out a squeak as Chris scoops you up into his arms. He carries you to the bedroom and sets you on the side of the bed. He pulled out a t-shirt and bed shorts for you and helps you get dressed. You notice he stripped the bed and put on new sheets. You are in absolute awe of this man.

He tucks you in and then sits next you, half on the bed.

"I'm gunna go clean up the mess I made in your kitchen. I need you to rest. Do you want me to stay tonight or would you like some time to think everything over? I understand if you need time." Chris looks at you longingly.

You think for a second, but you can't find a reason why he shouldn't stay. You are drawn to him and you really don't want to be alone tonight.

"Can you stay, please? I really don't want to be alone."

"Absolutely. Now, my Queen, close your eyes and rest. I will be right back." He leans down and kisses your forehead before he pads toward the kitchen.

You drift in and out, listening to him cleaning and humming. Then you feel the bed dip and Chris pulls you into his body. He is so much bigger than you, so when he wraps himself around you, it feels like a warm cocoon. You wiggle a bit into him and he giggles. It doesn't take long before you both fall into a peaceful sleep.

#chris motionless x reader #chris motionless #halloween #smut #dark and dirty #dark romance #its all about that aftercare #18+ content #carnal #supernatural

[brewsterispunkk]

crawl home to her

here’s a snippet from an upcoming chapter of my aemond targaryen x f!oc fic, crawl home to her. find it on ao3 !! hope you enjoy🖤🐉

-~-

“Hmm,” he hums, before tilting his head. “Still, I had hoped they were wrong.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. It’s an abomination for a bastard to mount a dragon.”

Her lip curls.

“As I recall, all of my brothers mounted dragons before you,” she counters.

Aemond tilts his head and takes a step toward her. Instinctively, Laenora takes a step back, her spine hitting the bookshelf. Aemond runs his hand along the shelf to her opposite side as he approaches.

“And yet I am the one who mounted the Queen of the dragons.” He said, before pursing his lips. “But that is neither here nor there. When I saw the giant black beast descend into the dragon pit, I could hardly believe it. The rumors were true. Do you know what they began to call you, niece? Once you left here?”

Laenora is silent. Aemond takes her silence as an invitation to invade her space. He takes a step closer, so close that she can smell the leather of his training gear.

“The bastard heir.” His lips twitched into a smile. “Fitting.”

“And what is it you think they call you?” She raises her chin to meet his eye. She will not back down from him, no matter how intimidating he tries to be. “One-eye? Oh no. The ‘one-eyed prince.’”

He grasps her chin with one hand, his hand shooting up. His eyes burn as he forces her eyes to level with his one.

“Watch your tongue, lest you find it missing.”

“I would like to see you try.” She smiles. “Maiming an heir to the Iron Throne is treason.”

“Oh is it?” He tilts his head, grip tightening on her chin. “Members of our house have maimed each other with no consequences before, or don’t you remember?”

Her smile drops.

Ah yes, that. The elephant in the room. Driftmark. The last words Aemond had spoken to her were “bastard.” And now, this. Aemond, trying to blame her for what happened that night. She would not have it.

She shoves him away with all her upper body strength, but he barely moves an inch. She curses herself for spending more time in the water than training with her brothers, like Daemon insists. Aemond falls back a step.

“Yes,” Laenora spits. “I seem to remember your mother cutting mine with no repercussions suffered.”

Aemond scoffs.

“You know that is not to what I am referring.”

“And to what are you referring?”

He sneers and stares at her, icy eye piercing. No matter how much time has passed, he can still see right through her. No matter what kind of monster he has become, she cannot stop herself from seeing a bit of that boy that she grew up with, deep down.

She levels her gaze with his, eyes narrowed.

“Hm,” he hums, tilting his head. “I knew you to be weak, niece, but I never took you for a craven.”

“A—craven?” Laenora spits, reeling. “You are the one who tried to murder a boy half your size!”

“And there she is,” his lips twist in a cruel smile. “As cruel as I remember. Need I remind you who walked away from that ordeal maimed?”

Laenora narrows her eyes.

“They were defending themselves.”

“Even you cannot be so naive as to believe that.”

“You should know something of naivety, uncle. Since you are so obviously gloating in what you suspect will be a victory tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Aemond huffs a humorless laugh. “The matter of succession.”

“You are fooling yourself if you believe anyone other than my brother will be named Lord of the Tides. The king will not allow it.”

“The king is ill,” Aemond all but interrupts her. “Weak. He does not know day from night. Most days he cannot recognize my mother. He will be no help to you.”

“We both believe twisted things, it seems.”

“Indeed,” he hums, eye holding hers.

They stay like that for longer than she can tell, eyes met, the air between them electric, before the faint ringing of bells causes her eyes to snap away.

By the time she looks back up, he has already turned away and begun to stride out of the library, his shoes echoing against the stones

#aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond targaryen fic rec #aemond targaryen ficrec #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon aemond

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Do you know any fics where Kurt and Blaine are always touching? Like not sexually, just like they're never apart and it's like they don't ever want to stop touching each other? Thanks

HERE is a post in the library that has fics exactly like what you are looking for. I also found some soulmate fics that rely on touch. - HKVoyage

How Far I'll Go by @jayhawk-writes

In a world where soulmates are found by touching one another, little Kurt, who’s been bullied even at the tender age of three, has finally found some friends. As kids do, to say goodbye, Kurt hugs three of his friends and earns himself a soulmark. The only problem? He doesn’t know who it belongs to. Filling this prompt by @justawriterwithdreams: Soulmate has a mark on the place where their soulmate first touches them.

~~~~~

Pressed Against The Glass by @gleefulpoppet

[This AU story is complete]. Is it possible that the most extraordinary love story ever told starts on a chilly October morning in New York with an impromptu twirl and an elbow to a stranger’s face? Kurt wouldn’t have thought so, but when it happens, his heart stops. It’s just one touch, but is that all it takes to believe? Should he take a chance and never look back? But what happens when the stranger runs away, even though he finally feels complete and brought to life? Is it just a dream—or will he let his walls come down? Will they live with regrets or find the love that will make them feel young forever?

AKA: The one about soulmates (by choice) and the italicized Oh.

~~~~~

Our Hands Over Our Eyes by idoltina 

Canon UA: Everyone is born blind- literally. Falling in love with one's soulmate means gaining sight.

Kurt Hummel learns to navigate life, love, and loss both with and without his sight, in black and white and color and every shade of gray.

Blaine Anderson reflects on the most tumultuous years of his sight journey when he finally loses it for good.

Note: You need to be logged into an AO3 account to access this fic.

~~~~~

We Compare Our Hearts To Things That Fly But Cannot Land by: twivamp92 [PDF and EPUB]

Summary: When Kurt Hummel was six years old, he told his mother he wanted a soulmate. Ten years later, when he shakes Blaine Anderson’s hand, a spark shoots through his entire body. At first, Kurt writes it off as nothing, just static electricity. But as days go by, they both realize that they are starting to get constant headaches, stomach cramps, the whole nine. The only time the pain stops? When they’re near each other. The longer they’re together, the stronger the bond becomes, eventually escalating to needing physical contact. So when they realize they need to literally be together 24/7 to survive, how will they cope?

Note: I think this one is rated NC17.

#klaine fanfic #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #fic finder #anonymous #touch #Soulmate!Klaine

[peejsocks]

PLEASE WRITE FLUFF ABOUT CHRIS PONTIUS PLEASE I CANNOT FIND ANY FICS ABOUT HIM !

i’m glad you asked bc i’ve been thinking about something all day, kinda like this

hospital visits w/ chris

maybe during the filming of jackass 3D

one week, you already caught a cold

runny nose, nasally voice, painful coughs

chris is the one who stops by your trailer the most, not scared to catch it from you unlike the other guys

he’d bring you soup and tea (he knows you don’t like coffee, and that lemon balm tea with ginger is your favorite)

extra blankets left in his trailer that he insists he’s not using (even though it’s insanely freezing in north dakota), and kleenex

sometimes he grabs your head and shoves a tissue up your nose, telling you to blow in a very bizarre old lady voice

“c’mon dear, you can’t expect to get better if you don’t blow it out!”

“ouch, chris, you’re pushing it too deep” “no woman i’ve ever been with has ever discouraged that before”

a couple of days go by and you’re feeling much better, the last of your sore throat being taken care of by crystallized ginger candy pontius kept in his pocket for you

you are in bad luck, however

it’s not even your stunt, bam and dunn are stalling the filming of ‘winter fat fucks’ bc the former has to pee

you’re distracted reading something on your phone when jeff tells one of the snowboarders in the fat suit to surprise tackle you

your phone flies from your hand onto the snow, and you wish you could trade places with it

instead of just dropping to the ground, you end up rolling downhill fast and a snow-covered rock is what stops your descent

the first thing you feel is a shooting pain in your back, the guy’s real body weight along with the suit’s weight pressing you against the rock

then, your head bounces off the thick snow and you don’t feel anything anymore

you’re out for just a few seconds, but when you come to everyone is surrounding you with a ‘wtf just happened’ expression on their faces

chris tells you not to move, crouching down next to you after jeff calls for medics

“how do you feel?” “is it too late to confess i never thought fat suits were funny?”

he rides in the ambulance with you, of course, busy drying your phone

“chris, leave it” “no, i don’t have mine on me and i really want to take a picture of how cute you look immobilized” “that’s a red flag if i’ve ever heard one”

at the hospital, you have to run through a battery of exams, including the x ray that confirms you have a fractured rib

chris waits outside of all exam rooms he’s not allowed in, bouncing his legs and crossing his arms

turns out, they are keeping you there for the night due to your concussion, but there seems to be no danger

at this, chris says he’ll be right back

when he does, you’re eating flavorless hospital food in your room, scrolling through your phone which is about to run out of battery

what you see makes your heart swell

he begins pulling out things from a backpack

first, toothbrush and toothpaste

then, a change of clothes for tomorrow since yours are still pretty humid

some chocolates, a phone charger, deodorant

and lastly, his laptop

“why didn’t you just get my toothbrush if you stopped by the set?” “i can’t treat my favorite girl? you know you love hannah montana”

yes he bought you an electric brush and a toothpaste tube with miley cyrus’ face plastered all over it

“and your laptop? i didn’t know i was interrupting your incessant grind, mr. all business” “we’re watching a movie, and i don’t care that you’re in pain, i’m picking”

maybe he really doesn’t care, because he forces you to move on the hospital bed so he can join you, having a really tough time fitting in comfortably

laughing is incredibly uncomfortable even after all the pills, surely not helping the soreness you’re feeling, but it’s inevitable with chris around

he takes a safe bet and presses play on the breakfast club

“first disney channel and now john hughes? are you sure you’re not a teenage girl stuck in a grown man’s body?” “ok, A, stop undermining my inner sensitivity. B, that’s not a joke, it’s the plot of The Hot Chick” “i think you would’ve done a lot better than rob schneider, for the record”

(truth is, he remembers when you told him years ago that it was a comfort movie)

midway through the film, he has to lift the computer from his lap and get another blanket because you’re shaking uncontrollably

he looks very worried, insisting on calling a nurse to check on you

it’s not like you can put up a fight, but apparently you have a fever, so he was right for that

the nurse gives you medication to lower your temperature and you go right back into watching the film

when he lays back, you pull the blankets up to your nose and cling to his side, hands around his bicep and cheek flush against his shoulder

it feels more right than anything in your lives

the meds do their job and you fall asleep before judd nelson can put his fist in the air

trying to leave and take his place on the armchair, your grip grounds him

you’re still shaking a little, and he feels like he could probably watch you better if he was in the bed with you, just in case

so he sets the laptop haphazardly on the small bedside table, hoping no disasters happen, and snuggles closer to you

he does not sleep, not really

constantly checking if your skin feels too warm or too cold, if your breathing is normal, if your heart is beating

in the middle of the night, you finally turn the other way, groaning with the movement

he jolts up, ready to run through the hallways screaming for a doctor if anything seemed out of place

instead, you search for his hand unconsciously, snaking it around your waist

he freezes, unsure of whether doing this when you’re asleep means it’s more or less genuine

your fingers intertwine loosely around his, tugging him forwards like a cartoon character floating in the air with heart eyes, following a pretty woman

now laying on his side, he uses his other hand to rub your back up and down, hoping it could somehow ease your tiny shakes/spasms to a stop

the repetitive movements lull him to sleep, finally

in the morning, you wake up to a nurse reprimanding chris for taking space in the bed when you’re the injured one

it gets worse when he breaks out of the layers of blankets and has to apologize for his ‘morning wood’, as he calls it

the look on the older woman’s face is that of dejection, excusing herself to get the doctor who was taking care of you

still curled in the bed, you look at his blushing cheeks and laugh so hard you feel nauseous

after being discharged and showering, chris helps you change

he nearly suffocates you with the spray of deodorant

(his deodorant by the way, claiming he smells better than you, which is a complete lie)

a coughing fit is very painful for someone with a broken rib, so you have to steady yourself by holding onto his shoulders

his hands are on your bare hips, clad only in low rise jeans and your bra

there’s a moment, when he asks if you’re good, looking so intently into your eyes

it’s just a moment, your chests moving in synch, your hands feel feathery-light

you nod, feeling your mouth is dry, asking for the hoodie instead of the extra blouse he brought

chris helps you lift your arms and pull the comfy fabric over them, promising to be more gentle than he has been

you chuckle, and your exposed chest vibrates with you, and he has to really focus on the task at hand unless he wants to be outed as a creep for staring too long

in his car, you thank him sincerely for being there

“how could i ever repay you?”

your joke is met with a surprisingly shy laugh

“how about breakfast?”

grinning, you agree, “sounds good to me”

he speeds off, toying with your nerves

(whether your stomach is twisting because of the dangerous driving or the crazy dude behind the wheel is unclear)

#chris pontius #hc #i guess #chris pontius x reader #jackass #jackass fanfic

[gladoseon]

Continuing to descend down The Wall, you come across the iterator ball that contains the Yellow Gang. Just as you’re about to skip past it, you notice something glowing blue inside it. Going in, you see the entire yellow gang lined up to catch you, and a strange weapon.

Picking it up, you pull on the secondary trigger. It shoots a spear that pierced straight through all 5 lizards and explodes on the opposite wall in a blaze of electricity.

Oh yeah. It’s railcannon time.

The Hurricane Cannon (aka The Malicious Electric Railcannon)

Primary fire: shoots a spear out in front of you. Can hold and fire 3 charges, 5 seconds to regain one charge. Spear deals 1 damage and has no special properties.

Secondary fire: unleashes all of its electricity into one spear and shoots it. Deals 5 damage, but the spear does not stop when it hits and enemy. It just pierces through, regardless of if the shot killed the enemy or not. When it hits a surface, the spear explodes violently, dealing 3 damage to anything nearby. This attack also pierces things that normally deflect spears, mostly lizards. This uses all 3 charges, and requires 20 seconds to fully power up again, instead of the expected 15. Cannot pierce through Prime Souls, walls, and Leviathans.

Lore: throughout the few cycles that Artificer stayed in power, she sought to create a super-weapon out of the rarefaction cells found within iterators. Though Five Pebbles forbid them from doing so, the scavengers stole many of Moon’s rarefaction cells and brought them to Artificer. However, the removal process wasn’t exactly refined, and many of them lost much of their power, and these broken ones were to be put back into Moon in their damaged state. Some Scavengers kept them for themselves after Artificer rejected them, which is why elite scavengers can be seen carrying singularity bombs.

However, out of all of the rarefaction cells removed, 2 of them came back in perfect condition. Artificer herself worked to create a weapon out of them, but only finished one before leaving. The other was worked on by the Scavengers, who copied her design exactly. She removed the shell, exposing the high-energy generator inside. She would then place the generator inside a ball of metal ripped from Five Pebbles, making sure to keep a wire running from the inside to the outside. Then, she put a module used to create purposed organisms, also taken from Five Pebbles, and placed a green lizard skull over it. The scavengers followed all of these steps, but they chose to use a train lizard’s skull instead, as they were a sign of power.

The result was a module that could generate a nearly endless amount of spears. By pressing down on one of the caps put on top, it would spit out a spear, and after a few seconds, the spear would regenerate. But by slapping the shell that hold the rarefaction cell, it would release a huge amount of energy at once, making the spear shoot out in a much more powerful fashion. This would exhaust the cell, and it would need to regain its energy before it could fire again.

Back to the roleplay…

Admiring your new weapon, you gaze out into the distance, and see that strange iterator again, but this time, it’s closer.

When you squint, you can see some of the longer poles that line its legs and body. The balls on its sides illuminate the entire area with massive spotlights, making the creatures below emerge, thinking it’s daytime, and drown or be crushed in the rain.

#rain world #ultrakill #rain world au #flood of pain #orange lizard #iterator #that’s a huge boy

[kitaishi]

❛ You had me worried. ❜ He's loathe to admit it—both because it makes him feel suffocatingly needy and because it implies a lack of faith in her—but it's true all the same. Cloud doesn't have to doubt her to worry. ❛ Did you really have to jump off the exploding train like that? Pretty sure I lost eight years of my life watching that stunt. ❜

      fuck. fuck. fuuuuuuck! they were barely into this mission and shit was already going wrong; the growing dread she had felt in the pit of her stomach rising and making her insides twist into knots. harsh red lights flickered across the train windows, shinra's secruity system on high alert and blaring in her ears as the trio runs from cart to cart - tifa apologizing, or at least trying to, when some passangers are nearly knocked over as they hurriedly try to avoid arrest. there's a strange, almost comedic, contradiction to how even in the middle of a bombing mission, tifa couldn't help but constantly put others before herself. she was apologizing for rudely inconveniencing someone's train ride home while she was on her way to commit an act that would more than just 'inconvenience' an entire subsection of the city.

the sound of glass breaking ahead refocuses her attention, cursing and shooting from barret make her and cloud hurry even more to catch up to him. they find the train door jammed due to shinra's security shutdown but cloud easily uses the large sword he was never without to pry the door open before an anxious tifa rushes past him. ❛ barret! ’ shinra sentinels surround her friend and tifa rushes forward to help turn shinra's weaponry back to junk - her boot colliding so hard with one of the security bots that sparks shoot out of it before it spirals back out of the train. ❛ what do we now?! ’ tifa shouts above the commotion, her gloves up in a defensive position while she tries to manage both looking for an exit and avoiding enemy fire. barret is too busy listening to someone over his phs to answer when suddenly all the electric doors of the train slide open - more than likely due to jesse's impressive skills with a computer helping them from afar.

 ❛ tifa! spike! this way, jesse says we don't got much time! ’ tifa knew what means: it was code for shinra was going to willing take out this cart if it meant taking them along with it. the beeping of the alarm system had only increased in frequency, an invisible timer for their deaths going down with each passing second. the AVALANCE leader partially hangs out of the speeding train before looking back and giving the two a single thumbs up. ❛ there's only one way we're getting the hell out of this train, follow me! ’

no... he cannot be serious about-

then barret jumps, confirming her thoughts as he disappears into the dark void of the speeding tunnel before tifa can even protest what the fuck he thinks he's doing. the monk runs towards the door, hesitating as she turns back to cloud with worry; they didn't have much time left and he was easily fighting off the remaining bots trying to slow them down. always trying to play the hero ( but who's protecting you cloud? ) without thinking, tifa turns back to the door and takes a leap of faith - curling into herself as she covers her face, her body hitting the steel rails hard while she rolls away from the speeding train. the woman doesn't move even once she's stopped - realizing she's not dead when she feels cloud's frantically shaking her up. she's sore as hell and barely registering his words when she blinks away the stars in her vision.

❛ i-i'm okay cloud. i've...been through worse. ’ tifa states with a small pause before she sighs, a warm blush covering her cheeks as adrenaline ( and something else she can't quite pinpoint ) rushes through her veins. she flicks her red eyes back up at him as she pushes herself onto her feet, her earlier doubts and worry now replaced by a sudden determination and excitement. ❛ c'mon, let's go find barret ! we've got a reactor to blow. ’

#i wanted something a lil...actiony #★ . ━ ❛ ic . #★ . ━ ❛ inbox . #amaeranthos

[ranaitsan]

i had to call him sensei!-chp 3

Today is a normal day like all other days. I was working on a special order for me. It is a gun that works on astermite stone instead of gunpowder. It fires bullets of electromagnetic waves instead of bullets of fire, and also with a trigger that is easy to pull and light in weight... I was working on it secretly as usual in The cellar, or rather, in the secret laboratory that the inventor and I built so that the hired thieves would not reach it, who became flocking to us more than the number of customers, so after we had a well-known reputation and also rumors about the extent of the ingenuity of our weapons and their lack of availability in the market, we have enemies who send thieves To steal inventions with special abilities, some of them are enemies of our customers who want to get rid of or take possession of the inventions of their enemies, and others just collect everything that is valuable and valuable that they have heard about...

Of course, we are the inventors. This is not a problem. We are the ones who create solutions to problems. Therefore, we have developed the security system for our laboratory and store. You cannot easily access the laboratory without knowing the secrets of our traps and how to enter the laboratory, otherwise the results will be dire. Also, the inventor has worked to apply to the government. By providing him with protection or special police services, by arresting every thief we caught and verifying who is behind his transmission, but it is still just a request. But the problem is that as we continue to be robbed, our traps are evolving, as well as the thieves' theft methods. Every time a more talented thief than the one before him comes, the matter becomes difficult for us. We do not want to invent a deadly security system that kills thieves. We just want to stop them, so we also resorted to drugs. And sometimes non-lethal poisons that actually have an antidote...

And so when I was working on that gun, the sauce sensor that we invented moved, and I knew there was another thief, and while I was hiding the new invention in safety, I realized I was late because that thief attacked me from behind with an electric weapon. I don't know if that was an electric dagger or what it is, but luckily I wear the protective armor against stab wounds, electric waves, and bullets. It is a costume of my design, but it was not made by me. Rather, it is a special request that I submitted to a fashion designer who works on strange orders like us...

Because of that armor, I was able to survive and I attacked him too using the crossbow that shoots magnetic arrows under you with the bow to form shocking electromagnetic waves, but he is a professional thief who confronted two out of three and while avoiding it turned the tables on me and escaped with the gun. It came at the perfect time, there must have been spies who knew when I started this invention so they could anticipate how long I could finish it, they've been watching me for a while to anticipate my production capabilities, I was about to finish it, only a few details left, I think Whoever sent it will present it to another inventor who works for him to complete it, since the final form is almost clear...

Agile, he can dodge all bullets and run between obstacles easily, but that's okay, since I woke up in this body, I realized that it's not like what I'm used to, it's super fast and very agile, and my sense of smell is now so strong that I feel Nauseous at times (this super sense awoke two days ago after I woke up in this body), so I could catch up with him and his scent, even doing moves I never dreamed I'd do (I guess the only acrobatic I still haven't done) She's standing on the ceiling...ha-ha). I continued chasing him through the alleys, and my breath began to break until he entered the Museum of Tire. The museum was full of visitors, which made it difficult to run and catch up with him, but I could still see him. I would not allow him to take my invention from me... That thief entered a dark and empty hallway. Then I followed him to him as hard as I could, so that his trace would not disappear from my sight, until I saw him entering a door that came at the end of the hallway, covered with a dark curtain.

A strange shape, as if the earth was moving or everything around me was moving, but I could not see anything. The situation continued in this way for a few moments, and I was slowly moving forward without knowing where I was going, until the vision suddenly became clear. The darkness suddenly cleared and the light blinded my sight. That's a big hall full of weird and interesting artifacts...but where is that thief!? where am I!? What happened!? Until I saw a shadow fleeing from behind one of the antiques, I followed him quickly, and then I was in another hallway full of doors. I did not know which door that thief entered, so I chose the door that had the smell of that thief. The people here are dressed in disguises and they look angry and they are screaming like they are crazy and there is also annoying music as if it is screaming what is that sound but...why is everyone here attacking others, wait a minute these people are not human they are vampires and they are all revolting. I ran away from that scene because it was too dangerous for me, so the thief kept running again before my eyes.

I caught up with him, and he disappeared again, damn him!! He keeps hiding from sight... While I was searching for him, someone fell in front of me, all covered in blood. He was injured!? Who hit him!? Is he a vampire?! And while I was amazed, the events did not stop developing quickly, one of them attacked me with a sharp weapon, I did not know what it was, but my body moved on its own and avoided it. ! I've never felt this way when I'm endangered by a vampire, a thief, or someone else... This person is dangerous! But the question that repeats itself, why am I so graceful and my body moves on its own? Is this the secret of the original owner of this body? Also, this person has the same smell as that thief! Is it personally I am now facing for the first time face to face !?

That person kept attacking me and my body avoided it until I scratched, what is wrong with this man!? Why is he targeting me!? Also not a rampaging vampire! His movements are deliberate and not barbaric! Was he really a vampire?! Because he's not like the vampires I've met! I got tired of this defensive position, I have to create a distance between us, or the blades of his claws will penetrate me, so I tried to find a loophole in his attack, so I hit him directly with his weapon, but I failed. Also, my sense of smell is now unique, I can even remember the smell of people). That person stepped back, and there were two other people, so they became three huge people dressed in black, he and the thief, and I think that thief was the one who killed that person, and the third was a confused person as if he was surrounded by a black mist and dark darkness, I could not distinguish his appearance, he was smiling a strange smile … It wasn't just the three of you in the hallway, there were two other people, a child and a dark man, but they weren't wearing black and they also looked worried about them, as if they were taking care!

What is this situation!? Can I escape!? But the boy and the man seem to be in trouble!? Also, I don't think that thief will leave me alone now! What would the person I sent gain from killing me? I have to find a way to get back, why did he lure me all the way here in the first place? And while I was at a loss, the shadow laughed and said: This is fun! I long to possess your real name..

real name? what is this! But the child and the man did not seem as perplexed as me, they knew what he meant. That shadow approached the brown man to whisper in his ear words that I could not hear, so the man shivered and started screaming suddenly, what did he say to him that made him panic!? And that shadow added, "What do you think I should take you where Louis is?" You will never feel lonely! And you'll get rid of your regrets, but in return I want your real name!

What is this name? And soon that man collapsed, the child remained motionless, and fear invaded his features and paralyzed his movement, so one of those two black men attacked the child!!! What do I do? Should I take advantage of the situation and run away? But that child will be cut to pieces! What do I do!? Although I was immersed in thinking, my body moved on its own to save that child, it is not in my favor and I have nothing to do with it, but I could not let him die and leave...

#august ruthven #lord ruthven #the book of vanitas #the case study of vanitas #les memoires de vanitas #memoir of vanitas #noe archiviste #vanitas no carte #vanitas x jeanne #vanitas x reader #vanitas fanart #vanitas manga #vanoe #vanitas icons #vampire

[bairenalenko]

So I’m doing a Stealth Pacifist run of Cyberpunk 2077 by mistake 🤦‍♂️

I finally started playing it about a month ago and the first tutorial mission has an optional objective of completing it stealthily.  There’s a part that teaches you how to knock out an enemy without killing them and how to hide a body so you don’t alert anyone else passing by.  Great for learning the mechanics of the game, horrible for me cuz I read “optional” in video games as “mandatory”.  I did the best that I could, restarted the mission when someone saw me, and eventually did the whole thing w/o anyone being the wiser which felt great ...but I couldn’t stop doing it!

It was partly the challenge of it that I liked (I love puzzle games way more than shoot-’em-ups) and the whole world seemed so depressing and overly violent that I couldn’t bring myself to shoot people that weren’t attacking me first so.. I just kept doing it.

My rules are:

No killing anyone (if another character kills someone that’s fine but my character cannot kill anyone outright).

Killing Drones/Robots are ok (mainly cuz you can’t choke them out and there’s one part of the early storyline where it’s mandatory or you instantly die).

No weapons unless ABSOLUTELY necessary (there are non-lethal weapons in the game but I haven’t had to use them yet.  I do keep them in my inventory just in case I can’t progress otherwise).

No one can be alerted to my presence unless it’s 100% unavoidable  (Certain boss fights mainly.  Yes if any minion or camera sees me, I reload a save).

No damage dealing “Non-Leathal” Quickhacks (sort of like spells) unless ABSOLUTELY necessary (I don’t really see how putting someone on fire, poisoning, or electrocuting someone is totally non-lethal so I just stick to the blindness and deception type of Quickhacks.  My goal is to do no damage if possible ...but I will use them if I really have to.  It has only happened twice because I had no other options to defeat a boss who already knew I was there stroyline-wise.  I did check the bodies afterwards and they were still breathing and moving around a bit on the ground so technically still alive, just singed).

Fights started out SO slow because of my lack of abilities.  I only had enough RAM (it’s like MP) to ...cast(?) one Quickhack at a time before having to wait for everything to refresh.  Then there was all the sneaking, lugging bodies around to hide them all, not to mention all the reloading of save files.  My first fight against a large group of people that would have probably taken someone coming in guns blazing only a couple of minutes to do took me like half an hour of delicate work.  Not a fast way to level up. Now though with the amount of RAM and Quickhacks at my disposal and experience under my belt I can sneak in, disable all the cameras and turrets as I send a cascade of temporary blindness through a group of people, choking them out one by one, while also restarting a sniper’s brain from a distance making him pass out, and wiping the memories of anyone standing by the sniper that might have seen seen him randomly fall over.... all at the same time before creeping up to their location before they remember what’s going on.  I don’t even bother hiding bodies anymore, no one’s left around to see the mass of alive-and-perfectly-healthy bodies I leave in my wake.  I’ve become a wave of electrical systems shutting down, brain fog, and people falling unconscious that sweeps through an area.  I’ve even done a few missions where I never knocked out or even Quickhacked anyone at all.  I snuck in, got the information I needed to download, and snuck out w/o a trace... but I can’t level up that way so I won’t be doing that again till I’m max level (Really looking forward to this actually). I’m currently lv25 w/ a Street Cred of 45 (both max at 50).  Am I crazy for doing this, yes.  Can I beat the game this way, 🤷‍♂️ so far so good.  Would I recommend playing it this way, absolutely not but I’m having fun. I like to think of in-game reasons for things and I take the reason my street cred is so high is cuz I’ve become this urban legend of a guy you can hire that only a couple of people have actually seen.  Multiple occurrences of a group of people waking up all piled up in a restroom and no one knew how they got there, their entire place ransacked and their hostage missing would definitely lead to some stories and word of mouth. There’s so much more I want to say about the game but I’ll leave it for another post.

#Cyberpunk 2077 #Pacifist run #Stealth run #I did this to myself

[lavishedinjimin]

Hickeys 101 -> dilf!jjk

— synopsis: After Jungkook catches you messing around with another boy, he was determined to teach you a lesson you'll only learn from a father... well, step-father.

↳ pairing: dilf jungkook x f.reader

↳ genre: smut/angst

↳ rating: 18+

↳ word count: 8.6k

↳ warnings: step-dad jungkook, AGE GAP, all characters are in legal age, D/S, daddy kink, condescension, degradation, they’re both toxic and mean, mind manipulation, Jungkook puts OC in subspace, face fucking, spitting, usage of a belt, unprotected sex (ya’ll know the drill already!), little aftercare

A/N: this fic is not suitable for all audiences. If you are easily offended and are sensitive to the warnings stated above, this might not be for you. reminder that the events in this story are purely made up and fictional.

Living with no one else other than your profoundly distant stepdad during lockdown – where you can’t escape, where you can’t go anywhere – is much harder than this zoom class you’re attending. 

“I'm so exhausted,” you mutter beneath your breath, rolling your eyes to the back of your head for your brain hurts from your Econ professor’s infuriating voice. 

Most of the time you are shuffling endlessly from how uncomfortable the wooden chair in this dining area is. With your laptop placed in front of you, the blue light surely ruining your eyes, you tirelessly listen to the lecture as much as your brain could wield. 

But your attention span isn't as great as most people.

Completely losing your focus on the class after two minutes, you turn your attention to your stepdad working his way to the kitchen.

“Can you put a goddamn shirt on?” you huff, a tinge of irritation in your voice.

He passes by you with a swift glance. 

“How are you doing?” Jungkook asks, utterly ignoring your complaint. 

“Since when did you care?” You place your chin on top of your palm, stopping your urges to not look at his exposed torso. His sleeve of tattoos was undeniably eye-catching, but you were too petty to go a have a normal conversation with him. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, was used to your sharp tongue. He knew you didn’t like him ever since he started to date your mom. But now that he was technically your parent, he has all the right to correct you and put you in your place. 

“You know I don’t like that tone, missy.” Jungkook stretches out his words, sounding stern. But you just sarcastically laugh him off. 

As your stepdad was making some food in the kitchen, the class grew longer and more monotonous than ever. You were never the type to pay attention in class, and neither did it help that the school decided to move to online learning. Now you’re truly failing school. 

“Jung—dad,” you sigh, realizing that his exposed back can almost be seen on your front camera’s screen, “can you scoot back a little? They can see you on-cam.” 

“Nope.” 

Jungkook chuckles at the way you grunt as he continues to make his avocado toast. 

“Oh come on—” Jungkook teasingly shows the rest of his behind to the camera, not caring at all that your professor and classmates can see. “Give them a little show.” 

“No!” immediately, you close your camera before swiftly turning your head to his direction, “Can you just stop? Okay? I’m trying to pay attention and you’re not helping!” You yell, banging your fist on the wooden table. 

“I’m so tired, dad. Can you just go away?!” 

He replies with his back still facing you, “Maybe if you asked a little nicer than that, little girl.” 

With a complete shock to the words he used, you found yourself blushing in red while your eyes slowly expand. Your body's reaction from that single sentence was intoxicating. Your class was now forgotten and your professor's voice became white noise. 

“W-What did you just call me?” You didn’t expect your tone to be as soft as it seemed. 

Jungkook finally flips around to face you. He scans you, taking a good look at you as he crosses his arms together. 

You couldn't dismiss that the way he looked at you made you feel something. Something that you’ve never experienced before. 

“I called you little girl. That’s what you are, right?” he sneers, “A little girl who thinks she can talk to her father so impolitely.” 

It was like a cat got your tongue. You flutter your eyes, trying to think of what to reply. 

Jungkook clicks his tongue, “Tsk. See, you're rubbish in talking, Y/n. Once I start to put you in your place, you can no longer put on that bratty act on me.” He suddenly starts to walk over to you, putting you in a frenzy. You sit up straight, pursing your lips as you can't seem to breathe normally. 

You cannot believe what was happening. Your mind starts to wander off from reality, trying to figure out what he is trying to tell you. Why did his voice change the way it did? As he walks closer, you can feel the warmth of his body enveloping yours. It was a situation that you wanted to run away from, but at the same time, you craved. 

With your back to him, he places his hands to rest on the table in front of you. He traps you in your place, not letting you escape. Your breath hitch unexpectedly as he leans his face closer to yours. 

“Jungkook… go away f-from me.” A trail of curses echoes in your mind, for you wanted to sound intimidating and not like a little kid. 

Jungkook chuckles and clicks his tongue, “Then push me away, little girl.” 

Everything in your system freezes. As if you just had been tasered, you feel electricity shooting throughout your body. Jungkook adores your reaction. He’s older than you, he knows more than you; and he knows just how to make a woman as you melt beneath his palms. 

“Silent now, aren’t we?” he teases with a velvety voice, inching his face even closer to the curve of your neck. Strands of his hair tickle your neck as hot breath blows against your skin, causing shivers down your spine. 

He hears a little whimper from you, making the grin on his face growing wider. “Be. A. Good. Girl. For. Me,” he says through an award-winning smirk.  

But – of course – you will not let yourself lose. 

“No.” 

“No?” he stares at you, baffled. 

“Never in a million years,” a bitter grin appears on your face.  

Jungkook leans back and away from you. He was a hundred percent sure that he’s got you under his spell, but your reply got his mouth dry. 

“Yeah?” So, he’s resulting in Plan B. 

A hands-on experience. 

Slowly and delicately, he lifts his tattooed-covered hand and wraps it around your neck. “Mhmm, there we go,” he coos after hearing another sudden whimper, “Remember who you're talking to, little girl, got it?” 

Your palms start to get sweaty as you try your hardest not to moan. Jungkook grips your jugular tighter, making you hitch a breath. You can hear him grunt under his breath, knowing for a fact that this was turning him on as well. 

“Who are you talking to, huh?” he starts to get aggressive as he presses his lips right against the shell of your ear. “Tell me, little girl. Remind yourself who’s in charge. C’mon, can’t speak now, baby?” 

Baby. 

Your eyes automatically close at that, feeling butterflies in your stomach. “Daddy.” 

“Mhm, good girl—”

“Daddy,” you whine, “Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, y-you’re in control.” 

‘Finally’, Jungkook thinks to himself with a large cocky grin on his face. He finally got you to submit. 

“Someone’s not as tough as they seem… I think I need to punish you for being such a fucking brat. What do you say?” 

The way he said those words right against your ear instantly made your panties wet. It was humiliating that you got turned on by your stepdad, but at the same time, it was hot. 

“Little girl… tsk, I need you to answer with your words and not with a desperate whimper.” 

He releases the grip he has on your throat and instead, elevates his hand so that his fingers can rub against your scalp. A tingling sensation runs through your backbone as he massages your scalp, feeling so overwhelmingly good that made you lean back against his hand, yearning for more. 

“Punish me,” you say in an almost audible whisper. “Do what you want, I don’t care. Please, please, please…” 

Jungkook takes a good look at you; your cheeks flushed, eyelids closed and your mouth slightly parted. It looks like you were enjoying this a lot – too much to be exact. 

The feeling was something else, something foreign that you honestly craved for such a long time. You and Jungkook had were never close, and you’ve never thought of him as a real father figure. After such a long time of not having a man to run the family, you didn’t know how to act around one. 

Within a second of realization that you were loving this too much, he removes his hand from you and walks away without saying anything else. You feel like you just got heartbroken.  

“W-What… why did you?” you stutter through a long exhale. Your eyes begged for him to come back, damn it – you were ready for him! 

As Jungkook walks away from the kitchen with his bare, muscular back facing you, he says a final time, “Take your studies seriously, Y/n. I don’t want you failing any subject.” 

You feel your shoulders slump down and your mouth purses into a straight line. You just got edged by your stepdad. 

Staying silent was, you thought, the right thing to do at the moment. You insatiably did not trust your voice, and there was nothing to say to him without embarrassing yourself. 

You glance at the clock on the wall just beside the refrigerator. As your classes were done for the day, and you have the rest of the afternoon all to yourself. Despite all of the unfinished homework that you currently have piled in your calendar, you still choose to watch a movie on Netflix and eat a tub of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. 

And, of course, all this just to distract yourself from the bizarre shit that happened between you and your step-dad, and to divert your attention on something else other than how sexy he is. 

“Hey, hey, hey, where do you think you’re going this late?” Your dad stops you from stepping outside the door, grabbing you by the arm. You close your eyes for a brief moment, inhaling some air to let your senses calm down. The door was already opened, and all you had to do was to get out a little faster, and he wouldn’t have caught you. 

Perhaps trying to sneak out of the house was harder than you thought. 

Jungkook spins you around and makes you look at his dark eyes despite the dim lights of the entryway. He wears black checkered pajama pants and a white tank top, hair all messy as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep. 

“It’s ten o’clock, and you’re supposed to be in bed,” he warns you with a strict tone. 

Snatching your arm away from him, you reply with gritted teeth, “I’m going out with a friend.” 

“Friend?” he scoffs, “I wasn’t born last night, Y/n. Where is he?” 

“He?” You slowly back away, taking tiny little steps closer to the door, “What do you mean ‘he’? I’m not going out with any guy, dad.” 

Jungkook rests his hips on one leg and eyes you up and down. Based on what you were wearing and the makeup that you have on, you looked like you’re about to give some boy the time of his life. 

“I’m not going to do anything I’d regret, I promise,” you whisper as quiet as the night sky behind you. “I’ll be good, daddy.” 

That was all it took for Jungkook to stop his tracks. You knew what you just did to him. The way how we reacted, how he froze immediately at his place, was the same reaction you had earlier this day when he did all those dirty things to you. Now he was in your shoes. 

As Jungkook looked like a dear in headlights, that was the time where you rushed off into the middle of the streets where Yeonjun’s car is hesitantly parked. 

“Quick, quick, quick!” you half-whispered, half-shouted as you closed the passenger’s door. Yeonjun laughs loudly while setting the gear up, preparing the car for a long, speedy ride. 

You look back and see Jungkook standing outside the porch, watching in awe as the car drives away from him. There was nothing funnier than seeing his stunned expression, for he couldn't do anything about your mischief anymore. 

“Is he angry?” Yeonjun asks, still giggling in his seat. 

“Yeah, he didn’t want me to leave,” You swing the seatbelt across your torso, securing it in the buckle. 

Yeonjun passes you a drink he bought for you from McDonald’s in which you gladly receive with thanks. “What’s this?” you ask before taking a sip. 

“Iced coffee. We’re out here for a long, long night, Y/n. See, I have one for myself!” he exclaims as he points to his drink sitting on the cupholder.

Yeonjun pulls down the windows so that you two can get a feel of the cold, fresh air of the starry night. Strands of hair would so often get caught in between your lips, distracting you from the relaxing scenario. 

Lifting your elbow to rest on the window frame, you ask him, “Are you sure this drive-in cinema is open this late at night?” 

“Of course, they’re open 24/7.” Yeonjun takes a quick look at you before returning his focus on the road. He smirks slightly, “We’re gonna have so much fun, Y/n. You won’t regret it.” 

You’ve already entered high-school when Jungkook met you. His first impressions of you were bashful and conservative, only showing your true nature around your friends. He thought you were such a warmhearted kid. He was only dating your mother at the time. 

But you’ve never really felt that he was a part of the family. His aura was never the nurturing ‘dad’ type, but rather, the ‘cool uncle’. He was never accustomed to kids, he’s the youngest of his siblings, so it was astounding that he’d ever married someone with a hormonal teen. 

Thus, as you’ve grown older, he’s slowly seeing your real side. Inch by inch, you're letting him see your colors and how you behave. A snappy and confident girl you are. You always have an opinion on things and you despise it when somebody gets in your way. 

That’s how your mother raised you. She taught you how to stand up for yourself and how to make yourself known, even though you sometimes overstep people’s boundaries.

Your mom was out of town for a trip with her office friends. She just landed a new job at the local government unit, and she was invited to their annual orientation. Which, if you were in her shoes, wouldn’t go to. But thankfully without her strict guidance, you can do whatever you want. 

Just say the magic words to your stepdad, and he’ll be putty in your hands. 

Consequently, Jungkook won't admit that he doesn’t like your attitude you put on him. He cares for you, he does. But if there’s ever a situation that you cross his limits, he wouldn’t hesitate to punish you and make it known that in the end, he’s older and you need to obey him.

Scared was a downright understatement. No matter how much you try to be brave and face whatever your stepdad might do to you as a penalty for ‘misbehaving’, you couldn’t help but break into a cold sweat. 

It was two in the morning, and your eyes are bloodshot red from almost having no sleep at all, besides the little nap you and Yeonjun took after watching a series of old movies in the drive-in cinema. You were wearing his sweater that he gave to you to keep you warm. 

“Thank you for tonight, Yeonjun,” you lean into the window frame, resting your arms on it. The yellow-haired boy smiles at you, his eyes wandering around your face as if memorizing every pattern of your features. He takes a final look at your bruised, swollen lips and hickey-covered neck before orienting his torso close to you. His face was an inch away from yours before he kisses you goodbye. 

“Try not to get caught,” he whispers against your lips with a cheeky grin. 

“You said that before, and I got caught,” you shrug while tilting your head to the side, “Say something else.” 

Yeonjun scrunches his nose. He uses his right hand to pinch your cheek endearingly, “Alright, then. How about… good luck with your stepdad.” 

Pursing your lips into a thin line, you release an exasperated sigh while closing your eyes. The two of you result in laughter, before giving him his goodbye.

Hurriedly, you rush around the house until you arrive at your bedroom window. Thanking your past self for slightly lifting the glass pane open beforehand, it was easy for you to sneak in without any faults.

The room was dim only because of the dawn lights outside. “Ah, finally,” you shut the window, hearing the loud ‘thud’ in contrast to the quiet atmosphere around you. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, hm?” 

‘Oh. My. God.’ 

It feels like you were in a horror movie. Jungkook’s cold voice sent shivers all over your body, running down your spine, arms, and legs. Frozen in your place, you gulp the ball that formed in your throat. 

Jungkook was sitting comfortably in your bed, one leg above another. “You know, little girl, I didn’t know how comfy this bed is. I might sleep in here with you sometimes.” 

“What?” you abruptly turn to look at him. He had a despicable smirk, knowing what he said has gotten on your nerves. “You will not sleep with me.” 

“Why not?” he doesn’t lose eye contact with you as he stands up, “You’re my baby girl.” 

Your breathing turned heavy as he slowly pushes you back into a concrete wall, not providing you any room to run away. “I-I’m…I’m what?” 

His eyes inspect your body up and down. You were praying to someone above that he wouldn’t see your hickeys, but it was all too late, and he knows you too much. 

Jungkook prods his tongue in his cheek once his menacing eyes stay on your neck. He looks straight into your eyes, before directing them back to those hickeys. 

“What is this—” your breathing snags from how rapid he was to press his body against you, wrapping his right hand around your jaw. He forcefully tilts your head to gain more access to your neck. Jungkook analyzes the deep red and purple marks on your skin, feeling oh-so disappointed in you. You turn squeamish from how tight he holds you, hearing how rugged the way his breath became, deep inhales and aggressive exhales. “What a fucking slut you are.” 

You feel your blood rushing out from your face, turning pale in a mere second of him saying that word to you. 

With a gruff, guttural voice, Jungkook doesn’t let you explain for he swiftly turns you around, pushing your frontside onto the cold wall. 

He holds the back of your neck and “I stayed up all fucking night waiting for you to come back home. Despite how fucking irritating and bratty you are, no matter how much you hate me, I care for you, Y/n. I fucking care for you, and I promised your mother that I’ll look after you.” 

You whimper when he tightens his grip once again, but you didn’t think about pushing away. 

“But here you are, not even cooperating with daddy.” 

“You’re not—”

Jungkook suddenly gives your clothed ass cheek a hard, loud spank. Your engrossed gasp captivated the room, and it sure did something to him. Jungkook, although he knows that you can’t see him, hides his growing smirk by biting his lower lip. He gives you a second spank, and a third spank, making your legs quiver and knees buckle from the pain. 

“P-Please stop…” you whine, your hands trying to reach behind you to grab his arms. 

“Stop?” he raises an eyebrow, “Wanna stop, little girl? You don’t like it when daddy spanks your ass?” 

However, you don’t answer. You don’t know what you want. The situation turned you on, and you know you’ll love the way your ass will burn afterward. Why stop now when you can enjoy it? 

Jungkook sees your mind was racing with thoughts, and he takes this as a perfect opportunity to drag you along with him to the bed. He sits on the edge of the mattress and swings you over his knee. 

“Stop!” you yell loudly this time, trying to pry away, but he was holding onto you tightly. 

“Shut up,” Jungkook growls, his voice immediately changes into a much deeper, hoarser tone. He, once again, grabs your jaw and forces you to tilt your head up, making you look directly into his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, little girl. You do nothing but run your mouth all over this goddamn house.” 

Jungkook was angry. The pads of his fingertips dig deeper into the skin of your jaw and lower cheeks, causing your lips to form a pout. 

He clicks his tongue, “Y/n, Y/n, Y/n. If you think that I’m going to let you go so easily, I’m afraid that you’re wrong, dear. I’ve finally gotten you between my teeth!” he exclaims sarcastically, although the sour tone of his voice makes you cringe. 

“You think you’re the shit, huh? Wanting attention so bad that you sneak out at midnight to fuck a disgusting pig. Am I right, Y/n?” 

“How fucking—” you shake and try to wiggle yourself out of his grip, offended by the words he said. You wanted to punch him yet cry at the same time. “How fucking dare you!” Facing him with tears slowly welling up in your eyes, “I-I do not— Yeonjun’s not… ugh!” You dig your nails into your palm from the raging frustration that was filling your mind and body. You kick your legs up and down, but Jungkook was not having it. He isn’t letting you go any time soon because he constricts your wrists together behind your back, tighter. 

“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook smirks menacingly, “Relax, little girl, relax. You’re safe now in daddy’s arms. Perhaps that Yeonjun boy has gotten in your head a little too much, hm? Don’t worry, daddy will fix your attitude.” 

Without hesitating at all, Jungkook pulls your skirt down, revealing your lace panties all to his eyes. His warm hand rubs your soft flesh, squeezing it here and there. He knows that you like it. He knows that you’re only keeping this little act up to seem tough. But he sees the way your eyes dilate whenever he says a word that triggers you, that triggers you in a way that’ll make you surrender to him. 

Take the kitchen scenario, for example. With one word, with a specific act, you were melting for him. He knows that you absolutely can’t get enough of him, and he loves to play with your mind. 

He was completely aware that it wasn’t Yeonjun or anything else that makes you act like this; acting like a little monster. It was all because of him; he’s the one responsible. 

And he’s the one who will fix you.  

“Come on, baby,” Jungkook’s tone turns softer, more delicate. He hits your ass once, twice, before cooing you with shushes. 

You slowly get hazy, the spiteful and bratty part of your brain switches off. A shiver runs throughout your system when he wraps his hand around your neck. Flashes of the kitchen scenario fill your mind; how submissive you turned for him so swiftly. Your consciousness knows that you’re doing it for a second time. 

“Where’s my good baby girl, hm? Where’s that little girl that I love so, so fucking much?” He says through gritted teeth at the last sentence, spanking your butt again. 

His thumb rubs soothing repetitive circles on your skin, disregarding how firm he was choking you. You close your eyes, sniffing a little, somehow feeling tranquility in his grasp. 

You release a pain-filled mewl when he purposefully presses his thumb against the giant reddish-purple hickey on your neck. Jungkook’s cock hardens beneath his sweatpants, forming an obvious outline as each second passes. 

He was enthralled by you. The way you move and the way you behave for him was addictive to see. “Yeonjun, huh?” Jungkook grins, “What’s this hickey for? Little girl?” Jungkook laughs as he lands another critical spank, causing your body to slightly jolt forward. “Is this his way of ‘marking’ you, hm? Claiming you as his own?” he doesn’t stop giggling from his own words, mocking you with a bitter attitude. 

“How pathetic, don’t you think? You allow yourself to be ‘claimed’ by a random dude you just met. Are you proud of yourself? Oh, I bet you’re very delighted that you’ve finally found attention from a boy.” 

He chokes you harder, pressing his thumb firmer against the hickey. The pain shoots throughout your body, making you quiver and close your eyes. However, you don’t respond. It was too humiliating to admit that his words were surprisingly true.

Without a warning, he hooks his index finger along the waistband of your panties and yanks it down. You sharply inhale through your nose, chewing down on your bottom lip as you feel two slender fingers play with your wet slit. Jungkook groans lowly from how wet you are, watching your pussy clench and unclench around nothing. 

“But you… oh you, Y/n—” he flips you back up and positions you to sit on his thighs, straddling him. Jungkook tilts his head and raises both of his brows, looking at you with disbelief. 

He exhales his words out, “You don’t know how to hide that skanky hickey of yours. Have you ever thought about covering up your hickey just as any other teen with a working brain, you slut?” 

Jungkook’s vicious, barbed words hit you like a truck. You look away from him, but he was quick to place a finger on your chin. He flicks his finger up, your head joining the gesture. 

As his tongue dances along with his plush bottom lip, he places his hands on your hips and squeezes thoroughly. His eyes rake your body up and down, your exposed cunt exposed to him. 

“Hickeys 101, Y/n. Conceal and disguise your hickeys if you don’t want to be caught,” he smirks, “but of course you wanted to be caught. You wanted all of this to happen.” 

“I don’t care.” You shake your head, trying your hardest to force a poker-face, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. His hands were toying with your waist, tapping his fingertips on your dressed skin. Why does he have to mess with your mind like this?

Sensual. Your stepdad reeked sex appeal and you hate yourself for loving it so much. His senses stick to you like a shadow you can’t escape, his aura addicting, and you want more of it. 

He pulls you closer, hands on each side of your face. His nose was a millimeter away from your own, and you can feel his hot breath fanning your face. That awful smirk doesn’t wipe off of his face. He looks at your lips, then back to your eyes. As much as he was admiring your beauty, you were doing the same. 

Jungkook was undoubtedly handsome. Perfect, strong features that no man in your liking can ever compare. His luscious, long hair with wavy strands here and there frames his face, encompassing his flawless appearance. 

There’s no way you will ever say no to him. 

He kisses you. Pressing his lips against yours, he kisses you so gently that you forget that he’s supposed to punish you. The kiss was tender and soft, a kiss like he would give to a girl’s first time. 

‘You’re kissing your stepdad, idiot.’ A voice at the back of your mind says. However, easily disregarding that conflicting thought, Jungkook pulls away before you can even take the kiss to the next level. 

“Little girl, oh, baby,” he laughs, “I’m going to hurt you. I’m gonna fucking bruise you until I can see tears in your eyes.” 

He easily throws you on the bed and he starts to strip himself down to his boxers. There was an evident fear written across your face, hugging your knees to your chest as you watch his dick grow beneath his underwear. 

“Take your fucking shirt off,” he growls, “Take everything off. Now.” His natural dominating presence allowed you to obey him quite easily. You did as you were told, keeping eye contact the whole time just to tease him. Sucking your bottom lip, you hide your sly grin. 

Jungkook stands tall from the edge of the bed, his honeydew skin being a perfect contrast with his dark hair. He palms himself through his boxer briefs, not having any hesitation at all. His eyes never leave you as you take off every piece of clothing from your body. You felt a little insecure, yes, but you gulp that nervousness down your throat. 

However, as soon as you took your top off, Jungkook caught a glimpse of more hickeys scattered all over your chest. This sight causes him to tilt his head back with an exasperated sigh. 

“Crawl.” He motions with his index and middle finger a ‘come here’ motion, “Crawl to me, little girl.” 

You get down on all fours and do as your told. He smiles with a content look on his face, but was soon replaced with a seductive gaze, “Did you have sex with that boy?” 

“W-What? No, I didn’t!” you answer quickly, shaking your head. 

His throbbing cock was right in front of your face. Aside from it still being covered with his underwear, you can spot how it twitches then are there. He holds your head with both of his warm hands, “Tell me, little girl. What are you?”

Your mouth gapes open but no word comes out. With your mind filled with lust and desire, you couldn’t understand what he meant. 

Jungkook pulls his cock out, but he doesn’t let you see it at first. He holds your head up and won’t even tolerate you taking a glance. 

“You don’t know what you are, huh?” he scoffs bitterly, “I knew you wouldn’t. What’s a girl like you anyway, right?” 

Your heart pounds rapidly in your chest. 

“Repeat after me, Y/n. I am a whore.” 

You whimper, pouting your lips. 

“C’mon, don’t say it’s too degrading for you, whore. It’s the bare fucking minimum for me. Don’t you want me to be proud of you?” 

Oh, he knows what he’s doing to you. He knows and of your weaknesses and he’s been using those against you. But you – you were naïve enough to notice that. 

“I’m…” you blink rapidly, “I’m a whore.” 

He snarks whilst stroking your luscious hair, “Louder.” 

Jungkook ignores your whines and waits for you with a quirked eyebrow. His patience was wearing thin and you were walking on thin ice right now. 

“I’m a whore.” You repeat loudly this time, the words sinking deep into your soul.

He leans down and slants his head, “And what do whores get, hm?” 

“I-I don’t know.” 

Jungkook wraps a big hand around his thick cock, aligning the tip in front of your mouth. You gasp. “They get their bratty mouths stuffed with dick.”

There wasn’t even a warning as Jungkook shoves his dick down your throat, making you gag and choke harshly around his girth. Jungkook growls deeply, his eyes rolling back to his head. 

Your saliva starts to drip down to your chin as he face-fucks you, not giving you the time to breathe nor to adjust to his long length. With one hand, he creates a makeshift ponytail and pushes your head farther down his dick. 

The whimpers you made out of protest didn’t even work, because the vibrations it caused pleasured him even more. 

“Mhmm, that’s right, struggle for me,” he moans, watching your eyes filling up with tears. “This is where you belong, whore. Right at your stepdad’s mercy and submission. You don’t get to choose what you want because I owe you. I control you.” 

Jungkook further fucks you as his hips thrust back and forth with no remorse. Gagging sounds fill the entire room and it just turns him on increasingly. 

“Look at me. Look at me!” he grunts as he pulls his dick out. He watches a single tear fall down your cheek, making his mouth form another devilish grin.

He leans down to grab something from the floor, but you don’t notice. 

“You’re such a mess, little girl. Just what daddy wants you to be.”

Jungkook takes his shaft and abruptly slaps your cheek with his dick. He hits your flesh a couple of times, humming in delight. 

In a swift, quick second, you suddenly feel a hard and raging sting on your right ass cheek from an unexpected impact. You cry out loud, shutting your eyes from the pain you experienced without a notice. 

His belt. 

The harsh leather material instantly caused redness on your delicate, soft skin. Jungkook whips you again, triggering a downpour of tears. You release incoherent noises every time he spanks you, for every hit was harder and sharper from the last. 

“You’re a naughty, irresponsible little girl.” He declares alongside another hit. He makes sure that each cheek was covered in red belt marks. His cock stands tall before you, drenched in your saliva as it leaks precum. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it and he takes this into account. 

Another hit, he puts all his strength in, making you inhale a sharp breath. Jungkook takes this shot to plunge his dick deep back into your mouth, pushing past your gag reflex as you struggle for air once more. 

Your pussy was awfully drenched and you can feel your wetness drip down from your slit and onto your inner thighs. You’ve never been this wet before, and it was insane that it’s all because of your unquestionably hot step-dad. 

It was like you’re in a porn video. No matter how rough he was fucking your face, you enjoyed it and you were moaning as he obliterates your throat. 

Jungkook pushes his cock deeper, your entire body twitching from the foreign feeling. “Stay there, stay there,” he rasps, “Stay there and take my big fucking dick down your little throat. Yes, that’s right, ohh fuck.” 

Every muscle in his body flexes as he tries to keep you still. "This is all you're good for, slut. You deserve to be used for pleasure from a man. You're nothing but a cockwhore." His biceps harden as he puts your head in place, abs tight. He leans forward and encloses your poor head with his strong thighs, securing yourself to his dick. 

With another crack of his belt onto your ass, you cry. Jungkook admires the sight of chaos he’s created. Once he was satisfied with the look of you, he pulls out. 

This is what he likes; messy and all wet. A string of saliva connects from your lips and to the tip of his dick. You try to catch your breath, inhaling and exhaling so sharply. Looking up at him with red, pitiable eyes, you give him a sullen expression. 

“You see what you did there, little girl? Hm? Now tell me again, what are you?” 

This time, you don’t hesitate. 

“I’m a whore.” 

“Yes, you are. Yes, you are, baby. You’re daddy’s little whore.” 

Your mind turns fuzzy once again. It was clear that you were not yourself anymore. If you weren’t drunk in lust, you wouldn’t let this happen and you absolutely wouldn’t allow him to handle you this way. 

But then again, it was too difficult to not succumb to him. 

“Cute little thing,” he murmurs beneath his breath. “Bet your pussy taste fucking delicious. Go on, turn around for daddy and let him see.” 

Your cheeks blush once you’ve obeyed his order and your cunt was exposed all for his eyes. Feeling a hand run down your sore ass, you whine as his fingers trail down your inner thighs, purposely ignoring your needy pussy. 

Jungkook was biting his lip so hard that he can almost draw blood. Ever so slightly, the pad of his thumb glides across your wet slit, lightly pressing against it. “Jungkook,” you whisper, wiggling your butt for more. 

“Oww fuck!” you drop your face on the mattress when Jungkook slaps your pussy unanticipatedly. Legs quivering in need, you bite down on the sheets. 

“Surprised that you don’t know how to address me, Y/n.” In a quick motion, he pushes two fingers inside your sopping entrance. 

Already feeling full, your back painfully arches as you attempt to take his fingers that were thrusting in and out so boldly. Suave movements of his digits caused a chill down your back, feeling too much euphoria at once. 

“What’s my name again?” he inquires before using his thumb to rub on your throbbing clit. 

“Daddy,” you reply quickly, not wanting to be punished further. 

“Good girl,” he chuckles, “that’s what a good girl should do; follow instructions without having to tell twice. You just love taking orders, don’t you? Huh?” 

“I-I do,” your face heats up immensely, stomach churning. 

Jungkook hums approvingly as he spreads your ass cheeks apart with his hands. You can feel the heat radiating off of his face as he leans into your cunt. With a bold lick of his tongue, your body shivers as the strong muscle toys with your folds. 

“Oh, please,” you moan, “that feels so good.” 

“Really now?” Jungkook gathers a bunch of his saliva and spits it down on your cunt, making it wetter and lubricated than it already was. He takes your clit into his mouth and sucks profusely, licking and biting here and there. The sound of your moans fueled his hunger for your cum, but he was not letting you go so easily. 

His tongue flicks your clit without mercy before inserting two fingers inside your hole once more. He feels your walls flutter around his digits, signaling your upcoming orgasm. 

He pulls away completely. 

Jungkook ignores your cries and how you bucked your hips to him, wanting more. He instructs you to lay down on the bed with your back against the headboard. Grasping the belt in his hand, you swallow the formed ball down your throat as you watch him crawl to you – like a predator hunting for its prey. 

“Pretty,” he mumbles to himself, eyeing you up and down. He kneels before you and grabs your neck, pulling you to him. If it weren’t for his lewdness and obscure actions, then you would say that his smile was sweet. But you know for a fact that his mind was thinking of different ways on how to torture you. 

Your eyes widen as he wraps the black leather belt around your jugular, using it like it's a dog collar and leash. “What are you – ohh…” Jungkook tightens the belt not enough to suffocate you, but enough for you to feel that it’ there. 

“Gotta hide that hideous hickey of yours, little girl. The more I look at it, the more I remember how much of a slut you are for that boy. Tell me, can Yeonjun make you feel the way I make you feel?” 

"No," you meekly reply with a little shake of your head. Nothing will ever compare to what Jungkook makes you feel than any other.

He wraps the belt around his fist and tugs on it, causing you to jolt forward, face closer to him. His nose barely grazes against yours. "Tell daddy you're sorry."

"B-But..."

He tilts his head in confusion, surely not expecting you to reply with anything else than a simple 'sorry.'

"But what?" he nags, slowly growing annoyed.

"I didn't mean to do it with Yeonju—". 

*Slap*

His hands collide with your right cheek, slapping your face with no remorse, making you release a loud whimper of pain. Jungkook growls and roughly holds your cheek, making you pout. Your eyes instantly tear up from the stinging pain, and Jungkook leans to your ear to whisper; "Say. Sorry." 

He releases his grip on your cheeks so you can answer properly, "I'm sorry...daddy."

"Good girl," he says simply before leaning in to give a tender, wet kiss on your lips. He smiles before you, eyes turning into little crescents with dark irises staring directly into yours, "Have you learned your lesson?" 

"Yes, I do." 

"Well, what've you learned, little girl?" he caresses your reddened cheek, "You promise to be good from now on and obey daddy?" 

"I promise." You reply in an almost inaudible whisper. Thankfully, it was enough for Jungkook. 

However, he wasn't done with you. He was yet to put his dick inside your pussy. Thanks to his strong build, Jungkook easily flips you around on your stomach, making you lay flat on the bed. He hovers on top of you with his dick in between your butt. 

Grabbing your wrists to secure them behind your back, he takes his shaft with his other hand and aligns his cock to your dripping pussy's entrance. 

"Want my cock?" Jungkook asks with a raspy voice, turned-on from the sight of your bruised butt with the combination of your sweet cunt, the folds all wet and ready for him. 

"Mhm, please put it in me..." you insist politely. 

Without hesitating, Jungkook pushes his tip inside your heat. "God, fuck," he chuckles, moaning right after, "you have such a tight pussy. So fucking tight and wet for my dick. Mhmm..."

Your pussy walls inevitably flutter around his girth once he had his whole tip in, and you can’t help yourself but twitch and squirm. Jungkook finds this endearing. 

“Daddy,” you mewl, “please put it all in me.” 

‘Well, if you said so.’ Jungkook thinks before shoving his whole length in. Ignoring how your back arched and the loud yelp you released, Jungkook thrusts his dick in and out of your pussy so good like he was a sex-god. 

His dick is covered in your juices as he rubs his precum all over your walls, getting you all nice and extra-lubricated for him. Your moans motivate him to continue, his primal instincts were ultimately getting the best of him. 

“F-Fuck,” he stutters, biting his bottom lip. It has been a while since he’s felt pussy wrapped around his cock, consequently, he ravishes on the sensation he missed so fucking much. “You’re being so good taking my dick, mhmm, you like it deep inside that young pussy?” he asks with a tint of mockery in his tone, “I bet you’re the type to prefer older men’s dick.” His thrusts were getting rougher and rougher, deeper, making you feel so full. His words were like honey, despite how lewd they are, the way how he spoke to you made you addicted. 

Jungkook holds your wrists tighter, nails digging down your skin. “I know your little boyfriends can’t satisfy you. That’s why you only want my cock, correct, little lady?” 

“M-Mhmm,” you respond as his balls clap against your ass. 

You’ve never felt more euphoric in your entire life. Only vulgar and lecherous sounds can be heard and you never want it to stop. His fervent, erotic moans sounded so hot made you milk his cock even harder. And it worked; Jungkook feels you tightening, clenching and unclenching. 

Pounding you like this from behind, all submissive for him was feeding onto his dark, domineering desires. Getting you all for himself was easier than he expected. 

“Do you want to cum?” he flips you around and starts fucking you in missionary, the new position makes you throw your head back as his cock hits your g-spot over and over again. 

You mouth the word ‘yes’, having no energy to form a coherent word. 

Jungkook chuckles, lifting both your legs up to his shoulders, creating more leeway for him to move deeper. 

“Ohh my god, just like that!” 

“Yeah?” He presses his body to yours, sweaty bodies pressed together. Without wiping away that smirk of his, he brings his mouth to yours to kiss you one again. 

You felt a sensory overload. With each hard, delicious thrust, you keep moaning into his mouth that you can’t even give him a proper kiss. “I-I’m gonna cum, daddy,” you sob, “I’m gonna cum!” 

“Hold it.” He snaps, “Hold your cum. Wait for my instructions.” 

His breathing was getting unsteady, you feel your room getting hotter and hotter with each second. All you can think of was his cock drilling inside your cunt. His long hair drapes from his face and the tips were slightly ticking your cheeks. The veins in his neck were protruding, making him look ten times hotter. 

His cock was making you dumb. You can almost forget that he was your stepdad – for he was just an older man you lusted for. 

“Be a good cockslut for me, m’kay baby? You’re already a good girl for letting daddy take control over you. I’m gonna let you cum as a reward.” 

“Mmnggg, please!” 

With his hand, he grabs your belt-clad throat and squeezes hard, making you see stars. Your toes curl up from this specific action. 

“Open your mouth.” He says in a hurry, teeth gritted together, “Open your slutty mouth.” 

After a second that you parted your lips, Jungkook spits in your mouth unexpectedly. This made you wild. You didn’t dare to close your mouth and swallow his already existing spit because you wanted more. “Ohh, I see what you want,” Jungkook snickers, “filthy little whore. Swallow and I’ll give you more.” 

Subsequently, he praises you with words that made you blush. He gives you another load of his spit, and you consume it immediately. If Jungkook was hard earlier, he was now rock-solid from your freaky behavior he didn’t know you comprised.

“Daddy, please! I can’t hold it in…” your body slightly quivers from the unforgiving impact of his cock, squeezing your walls so tightly to prevent yourself from spilling your cum onto him. 

Jungkook can’t wait any longer himself, “Cum. Cum on my cock, baby. Do it – oh shit – do it now.” 

Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back to your head. You felt an overwhelming drive of euphoria rush through your system as you let yourself loose on his cock. “Jesus Christ, you’re so hot, little girl,” Jungkook groans, “There, there,” he pumps his cock faster to catch his orgasm.

"Daddy's gonna cum inside your mouth," Jungkook's cock twitches instantly from the thought, "Imma spill my seed deep inside your throat. You're not wasting any spills, little girl, you're lucky to even get a taste of my cum. For a slut like you don't deserve a single shit. A-Ahhh fuck, y-you’re lucky your so goddamn cute that I – mmngg – couldn’t resist giving you daddy’s cum."

Within a couple of deep, mind-blowing thrusts, he pulls out and crawls over to your face. Automatically opening your mouth to accept his cock, he pushes his length down and past your gag-reflex. “B-Baby, baby, fucking shit,” he grits his teeth, hands clawing at your hair, “Take my cum, c’mon, I know you can. I know you can take this sweet daddy cum. Mhmm that’s a good girl, that’s daddy’s good little girl.” 

Your throat contracts and gags as he fills you up, spilling his seed down your pipe. Tears started to fall down your woeful eyes, attempting to take everything that was given to you. 

You knew you were going to hell for this – for all of this. But at least you’ve enjoyed yourself and got what you’ve wanted. 

It was undeniably crazy how quick he got you into submission. Was it the way that he talks to you, the way he can technically read your mind and identify all of the things you desired, or was it just your daddy issues coming to play? 

Whatever it was, you didn’t regret a single bit of this to happen.

Who knows if this will occur to you again; if you’ll receive the same pleasure as this again? 

“Come ‘ere, let me wrap you in my arms,” Jungkook whispers after cleaning you up. Nodding, you scooch over to him to allow his warmth to resonate through your naked body. 

He is the perfect big spoon. He rests his chin on top of your head, humming a song to soothe you. 

Looking outside the window, you see that the sky is painted with variations of orange and red, signaling the arrival of dawn. Your eyes grow big as you examine the time on the wall clock; 4:00 A.M. You have three and a half hours left until classes start. 

Jungkook minds how your body tenses. He holds you a bit tighter and snuggles his face into the crook of your neck. Even though he can see those awful hickeys, he turns a blind eye to them. 

“Skip classes. Daddy won’t be mad,” he titters, “Although, your mom will be home anytime soon today.” 

You emit a gasp, “Wait, today?” 

“Yes,” he sneers, understanding the panic in your eyes, “Remember what I told you, Y/n. Hickeys 101, cover—”

“Cover it up.” 

After you’ve slept through all your classes for today, you woke up in the afternoon exactly when your mother just arrived from her trip. 

Your whole body was sore. You can’t walk straight and your hair was in tangles. Before exiting your bedroom, you went to your bathroom, grabbed your makeup back, and covered your hickeys with concealer. 

‘Yeonjun… should I even see him again?’ 

The makeup did the bare minimum of covering your bruises. It wasn’t the best coverage ever, but it was enough. Parting your hair to the side to hide most of the skin of your neck, you finally went outside. 

“Y/n!” your mother exclaims, raising her head after she was scurrying deep inside her bag. “There you are. Are classes dismissed early?” 

Your step-dad chuckles behind her as he was carrying the rest of her luggage to the living room. Jungkook glances at you. 

“Yes.” You straight out lied. 

“I see. Oh! And did Jungkook treat you well?” 

You almost choked in your spit. 

“Was he good to you?” your mom raises her brows to Jungkook, “Or was Y/n a pain in the ass, babe?” 

Your face turns red in an instant. You wanted to laugh from the double-meaning of her words.  

“Y/n was a pain in the ass but don’t worry…” Jungkook smirks at you, his eyes hinting a sultry, teasing look, “She’s a good girl nevertheless.” 

The way Jungkook looks at you has to be a crime. There’s never a moment where you didn’t feel a single thing whenever he locks his handsome eyes with yours. It was an incredibly intense feeling – a feeling that you know you’ll crave.

“Mm. Okay. You look…” she scans your figure, head to toe. “tired. But anyway, come here and help me unpack. I have tons of stories and gossips to tell!” Your mom exclaims as she sits down on the couch. 

Before you can even approach her, Jungkook grabs your right arm and puts you in front of him. Afraid that he’ll do something you’ll regret, you pull away – but he shakes his head. 

Jungkook puts his index finger in front of his mouth, looking down at you while he whispers, “Shhh,” he leans forward and mouths the next words close to your ear, “Act like nothing happened, little girl.” 

#jungkook smut #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #btsguild #bangtansmutcentral

[astaroth1357]

The MC Accidentally Kisses the Brothers

Due to incredibly popular demand (and because it’s a cute prompt).

Lucifer

It was just a childish prank, but pretty much all of Satan’s pranks were childish at their core (even the more homicidal ones).

This one wasn’t even that bad in the grand scheme of things. The angry boi was just trying to see if he could get Lucifer to fall down the stairs...

...admittedly, saying it out loud makes it sound much more cruel than intended. But this is Lucifer we’re talking about. A tumble down a flight or two wouldn’t leave him too injured… Unfortunately for Satan, he wasn’t the only one who took a tumbling.

The plan was pretty simple, put an enchantment on the stairs to the Conference Hall, lay in wait, and trigger it right as Lucifer was leaving a meeting. He’s always the last to go, so it should have been foolproof.

But the MC hung back to leave with Lucifer that day and just so happened to jump forward right as Satan was timing his step… getting themselves thrown down along with him.

Fortunately for them both, the firstborn’s reflexes were astounding. He was already holding the MC in his demon form and cushioning their fall before they could even hit the first stair. And it was quite a long way down…

By the time they hit the bottom, Lucifer had them fully wrapped up in his wings and Satan couldn’t what had happened until they unfolded… whereupon he saw the MC laying on top of Lucifer with their lips far FAR too close together for his liking…

Yeah, that backfired pretty hard and Satan was left fuming over it for days… Not that Lucifer minded in the slightest.

Mammon

Sometimes when Mammon does his photoshoots he brings the MC along as one part cheerleader, one part pit crew. It’ll be their job to hold onto his stuff, make sure he has enough to drink, and generally stand there and be impressed by his awesomeness until they leave.

Well that day things had been going well… until a particularly nosy worker started hovering around the MC too much for Mammon’s liking.

He tried to put it past him, since he had a shoot to do and all, but he snapped about halfway through when the guy kept trying to force a conversation with the very not interested MC.

Oh, he was ready to tell him off. He made the photographer stop mid-shoot just so he could march over there himself and give that asshole a piece of his mind! He was going to absolutely tear him to shreds and then-!!

Okay, that didn’t exactly happen because right as he got up to the MC, ready to start shouting, our lovable moron tripped… again…

But unlike the first time, where he more or less face-planted the floor, this time he smacked lips first into a surprised MC in front of the jerk he was trying to scare off.

… Yeah. He meant to do that.

And that’s exactly how he played it off, keeping his lips right where they were and flipping the other guy off so he’d leave them alone (which, thankfully, he did).

Totally what he intended to do and he'll swear so to this day.

Leviathan

… how in the world do you mess up the Kabedon?

Levi had seen the move done hundreds of times before in anime. It’s a very simple concept: put someone up against a wall, put one of your hands by their head, and just lean. That’s it. Not rocket science.

Levi had been mentally preparing himself for this moment for days… He may or may not have even practiced this (very simple) move in his room countless times. He genuinely thought he was ready to try it on the MC.

So, on one of those rare days he went to RAD, he gave it a shot. He waited until he and the MC were walking alone together, got them up against the wall, annnnd…

...rather than touching the wall next to them, his hand completely missed any sort of hard surface because in his panic he stopped them right next to a blind corner…

Naturally, his body fell forward some but since there wasn’t that much space between them by that point he uh… he… well he now knows their preferred Chapstick.

No matter what the MC’s reaction ultimately was, he leapt away from them like he just licked an electric fence and bolted.

His embarrassment genuinely cannot be overstated... He practically broke a window in his attempt to get the hell out of there and back to his room, where he didn’t leave for three days straight… Poor Levi...

Satan

It started out as easily one of the best days of his life. 

The MC, the exchange students, and the Royal Court had all decided to surprise him on his birthday with a Devildom-style cat cafe… Kitties were on practically every surface around him! 

Admittedly, Satan had been pretty distracted throughout most of his time there. There were just so many kitties for him to see that he sort of forgot about the MC in the process…

So in order to get his attention a little, the MC thought it would be cute to pick up one of the furry bundles and hold it in front of their face, doing that little thing where you pretended to “talk” for the cat and even waved one of its little paws at him.

They hadn’t predicted that Satan would find the display utterly, heart-meltingly adorable...

He attempted to plant a kiss on top of the furry critter’s head at the exact time that the MC brought the cat down their face entirely.

It took Satan a second or two to register that his lips were not, in fact, on a cat. And when he pulled back to see the MC’s shocked expression, the full gravity of his actions smacked him in the face like a falling log…

Cue a flustered rush to apologize while the MC hid their face back behind the confused kitty… Getting an accidental kiss in front of the prince of Hell and literal angels was pretty dang embarrassing...

At least the incident was taken in good spirits by most of the people in attendance (minus Luke, who was desperately trying to give MC his bottle of holy water like it was pepper spray by that point). 

Though after that point, Satan noticed that his “guests” kept passive-aggressively giving him cats until he was literally so buried in fluff he could barely move… probably not related, though. Probably.

Asmodeus 

It was another party night with Asmo and the MC at the Fall having a good time.

Now, Asmo was no stranger to Demonus and other assorted demonic beverages. You could say his tolerance is decent enough, but get a few too many in him and he does start to get a little off…

And a drunk Asmo is a very troublesome Asmo. 

The MC, bless their heart, was pretty much playing the sober babysitter to their demon friend when Asmo decided that he HAD to leave the club and get cupcakes right then. Being the good person they were, MC agreed to go with him, as long as he promised to stay with them and not wander off…

But they somehow managed to lose him within three blocks from the club. All they did was check their phone for directions and the guy bailed!!

Little did the MC know, while they were frantically searching for him Asmo hadn’t run away completely… He had just decided it was a great idea to play hide-and-seek at 2am and hid behind a nearby building.

It was his drunken giggling that eventually gave away his position, but he jumped out from behind the corner right as the MC was rounding it. Naturally, they both to collided. If hugging hadn’t been an instinctual action to Asmo by they point, they would have fallen down…

All they did ended up doing instead was getting caught in lip-lock due to Asmo’s sudden vice-grip.

Apparently he laughed and laughed all the way back to the House but his memory of it is pretty hazy… He’ll just have to get the MC to reenact it with him a few dozen times, that ought to jog his memory!

Beelzebub 

The MC was helping Beel out with his workout yet again and things had been going well.

Since Beel is pretty much a one-man army, his weights and routine are usually waaay too advanced for any human to be able to handle. So the MC is less his spotter and more a casual supporter/motivator than anything else.

And motivation was just what they were trying to provide with a fun little experiment of theirs… 

Ever heard of the “carrot-on-the-stick”? Well they decided to try something like that… literally. Just replace the carrot with a roast ham!

They put ham on a fishing pole, set Beel up on a treadmill, and dangled it closer or farther away based on his speed. In theory, it wasn’t the worst idea in the world... but in practice…? 

Well. Someone should have told them not to stand in front of him during this little trial...

Their motivation experiment did work for a few minutes… But soon enough Beel’s stomach got the better of his (marginal) self-control. They just weren’t expecting him to leap over the top of the treadmill...!

The smart thing to do would have been to drop the fishing pole or to just keep it still so Beel could grab the meat, but the MC reflexively drew the pole back behind them… thus putting them right in Beel’s path instead.

And that’s how they ended up caged under lord knows how many pounds of Beelzebub, thankfully kissing their lips rather than trying to chew them off…

Needless to say, Beel climbed off of them, red as a cherry, and the MC let him have that ham before the two agreed to never try this again. Whoopsie!

Belphegor 

Belphie likes sleep. 

Belphie likes cuddles. 

Belphie likes cuddling in his sleep.

Really this was bound to happen eventually…

The MC and Belphie were having a nice nap together in the attic and there wasn’t anything nefarious about it. Just two people snuggled up together in the same bed.

...snuggled up very close together in the same bed.

So close, in fact, that when the MC finally woke up and rolled over some to reposition themselves, they felt the soft lips of their companion brush up against their own.

They, of course, had the appropriate reaction of shock and embarrassment to this… but this cheeky fucker just smirked at them and let one eye slip open.

“What…? Is that it? It’ll take more than that to wake me up…”

Never mind the fact he was awake the whole time...

He really should have expected that pillow to the head, but after they struck the first blow, it was on now.

Don't worry. As it would turn out, an impromptu pillow fight also wakes him up just fine. Who'd have guessed?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me reactions #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines

[warmblanketwhump]

safe enough to fall

a little university-themed thing I wrote using @sicktember prompts: comfort item, sneaky temperature check, medicine, unlikely caregiver, and lightly inspired by these prompts

the grip of the winter’s cold was their constant, unrelenting companion - but sometimes, B just wished it would be a little less faithful.

It doesn’t ease in the morning, when B wakes up coughing with a cold nose and stiff limbs. It stays as B shivers through the lukewarm shower and the hurried layering of clothes over damp, goosebumped skin. It sticks to them like cling wrap on the bus, in the lecture hall, the windy walk to their next class, makes them tense their rattling jaw, and leaves them hunched over and huddled up, desperate to conserve any scrap of heat.

This was a fact of their university existence - that after the pleasant crispness of fall, their poor, scholarship-funded body was plunged into four months of frozen hell. They didn’t like to complain - after all, they were getting a free education. But no one told them how brutal their university’s winters would be, nor that dorm heating was little more than a few puffs of warm air every hour, or that regardless of how many layers they pulled on, they’d be chilled to the bone until late March.

Their final class of the week is in a drafty science lab, and they hold back a groan. The cold's not the only source of their dread - it was the thought of spending 90 minutes with their perky, overly friendly lab partner, A.

A, whose parents were well-off, well-known benefactors of their university. A, who lived in a nice house with proper heating and had the money for a warm winter coat. A, who obliviously chattered on about anything and everything. Besides that, they were just so...happy. All the time.

The can afford to be, B thought miserably. There was no way all that sunshine could be real.

B really tried to tamp down their bitterness, but it was hard to listen to someone gush on about their amazing weekend their family spent on some tropical island when B spent the same weekend wrapped up in blankets, trying to stay warm enough to study their nomenclature notes.

Two minutes before class, A bounds into the lab like a freed golden retriever and begins their usual volley of caffeinated questions, which B responds to in short, clipped answers. Suddenly, the questions stop and A’s brows furrow.

“You look cold. Are you okay?”

B shifts on their stool and tucks their fingers into the sleeves of their worn secondhand coat, pulling it tighter with a shudder. “I am cold. It’s winter.” They cough weakly into their elbow - the nagging cough has gripped them for weeks now.

“Are you sick?”

Direct, then. That was new. “No. At least, I don’t think so. I don’t have a fever or anything.” In truth, they had been feeling a little lower than usual the past couple of days, the chill a little deeper, the aches more pronounced, the cough a bit more painful. But in their book, that was hardly enough call themselves sick. B sniffles and A opens their mouth to comment further, but the professor calls the class to attention, and the moment is gone.

90 minutes later, they’ve got their work cut out for them - a ten-page lab report that’s going to count for nearly a quarter of their final grade. And as luck would have it, it was a partner project, which meant B got to spend more time with the equivalent of human rocket fuel.

“So...do you want to just knock this out tonight?” A's eyes dart around nervously.

B frowns - it’s almost the weekend, and they figured A would have plans with friends this evening. But B sure doesn’t have anything going on., so they don’t protest. “No… I s’pose we should get as much done as possible while it’s still fresh. Want to go to the library?”

“Ugh." A cringes. "Do we have to? That place is like a tomb.”

B huffs indignantly. “It's not that bad," they mumble in a weak defense of their favorite study spot. A shoots them a glare, and B rolls their eyes. "Do you have somewhere better? It's Friday, so most places are closing up.”

“Well, my parents decided to go on some last-minute ski trip to the Alps again, so my place is free," A says as they step out into the biting wind. "Plus, I have a ton of food and it's actually warm in there, unlike these buildings.”

The promise of decent heating and food that wasn't from the dining hall was enough for B. "Fine. Your place." The pair trudge through the bitter wind as the sun begins to set, and soon they arrive at A's parents’ home - a beautiful, winding estate just a couple minutes away from campus. B has to bite their lip to keep their jaw off the ground - in the blustering snow, this place looks straight out of a Christmas card. Another reminder of how they don’t fit in this world.

Will you stop? B chastises themselves. A having money isn't a personal attack on you. Just enjoy the free food, finish the assignment and get over it.

Despite the towering exterior, B's house was quite cozy, colored in warm neutrals and filled with soft, comfortable furniture. Just past the mudroom, they spot a big living room filled with with an enormous overstuffed couch, squashy-looking pillows, and soft throw blankets. Everything about this place screams warm. A rubs their arms, suddenly aware of how cold they are. The heat nearly makes them dizzy, and they can feel the temperature difference as it seeps into their cold skin.

"Want some cocoa?" A tosses their bag into the corner and heads for an electric kettle in the kitchen, and B follows. "It always helps me warm up." B nods. A couple minutes later, A pushes over a steaming mug with the top entirely covered in marshmallows.

B wraps their chilled fingers around the mug and takes a sip, and the warm, rich liquid feels like heaven to their cold body. "That's amazing."

A smiles. "It's the good stuff." They sip in a surprising silence for a few moments, before A sighs in resignation. "As much as I wish this was just a social call, this report isn't gonna write itself." They grab a bag of popcorn and nod their head toward the living room, and B follows dutifully. A flicks on the gas fireplace and tosses B a throw blanket, and the pair gets to work.

------------------------------

After a couple hours of studying, three instances of indignantly thrown popcorn, and a dramatic reading of the periodic table, B realized that they may have misjudged A. Deep down, under the bubbly exterior, A was a genuinely kind, sweet person. It wasn't an act - they just were human sunshine. And the longer they spent time with them, the more B realized they didn't mind their company at all.

"Alright." A drops their pencil and rubs their eyes. "If I have to balance one more equation, my brain's gonna explode. Study break time." A flips on the TV and puts the volume on low.

B leans their head back on the couch and pulls their throw blanket to their chin, trying to ward off the shivery feeling in their core. Despite the heat of the fire, the mug of hot chocolate, and the thick blanket, they just can’t seem to get warm.

Their face feels hot, but their blood feels chilled and heavy, the weight of it making them ache deep down in their bones. B wraps their arms around their knees, trying to rub away the throbbing pain and get some warmth into their skin. They glance out the picture window at the now-blowing snow. It's gonna be a miserable walk home.

"B, you're shivering." A's turning to look at them now.

B startles. "It's-It's nothing. Just a chill." The concern in A's voice triggers their flight response. "I....I should probably get back to the dorms. It’s late–" They're cut off with a hacking cough that leaves them breathless and they wince at the ache in their chest.

"B, it's snowing, and you haven't even had dinner-"

"Where's my jacket?" They push themselves up and toss the throw blanket off, instantly regretting it as the air invades their pocket of hard fought warmth. They’re trembling and dizzy and desperately freezing, but they cannot stay here. Then, the world tilts and they fall back on to the couch. For a moment, they're just laying in an icy, spinning world, trying to catch their breath, when warmth suddenly envelops them.

A's tucking the same thick grey blanket around their shivering form. As they pull away, their hand lightly brushes over B's neck, then freezes. B twists away from the gentle touch, but it’s too late. Realization floods over A's face. Caught. "You lied. You are sick."

B groans, even as their fingers weave into the chunky knit and pull the warm layer closer. "A, please. Just let me go home. I'm probably contagious. You don't want me here."

"B, you look like death warmed over. I'm not sending you out in a blizzard when you're feverish like this. I won't do it." There's a spark in their eyes and a set to A's jaw that dares B to challenge them.

B leans back, defeated. Even though they want nothing more than to run out of this room, they're too weak to stand and too cold to move. So here they'll stay.

It's okay. Someone's here. You can give in now.

No. I can't. I can't let them see me like this.

What choice do you have? You already look awful. Let them help you.

A covers them with another blanket and places a gentle hand on their back, rubbing slowly. The firelight flickers, casting light and shadow across their solemn face. “B. Tell me what you're feeling, and I'll get you what you need.”

B swallows down the rising panic, the helpless vulnerability they feel, and takes a shallow, shaky breath. “I…I guess I just feel….not right. I’m always cold...but it's...worse.” They sniffle weakly, trying to still and order their swirling thoughts. “Chills, fever, cough, sore throat, kinda stuffed up. And it just hurts everywhere.”

A nods slowly, then leaves the room. They return in a few minutes with a few small bottles, carefully scanning the labels and holding them up for B to see.

“Can you take this? Any problems with this one?” B had to take a moment and match the brand names with their usual knockoff brands, but soon they had a couple over the counter medicines picked out, along with something for their cough.

A glances at the medicine labels once more. "This one says to take with food. I've got some leftover chicken and dumpling soup I can heat up - does that sound okay?"

B nods almost imperceptibly. "Sounds wonderful." A gets up to heat the soup, and B feels the anxiety rising in their stomach when they're not in the room with them. A returns with a mug and manages to gently spoon a few sips of broth into B's mouth before B starts falling asleep, clutching the grey blanket even tighter to their shoulders.

A smiles sadly. “That blanket's my favorite whenever I'm not feeling good. It's the best thing you could have to fight off what you’ve got. Trust me.”

B curls into the soft fabric. It was as if the warm environment of the apartment and the comfort of the blanket had been a signal that it was safe to leave survival mode, rest for a moment, open the floodgates that had been holding back whatever had been ailing them for weeks.

After B takes their medicine, A’s eyes shift awkwardly around the room. “So….when you’re sick, do you like having someone with you? Or do you want to be by yourself?”

A sudden rush of emotion crashes over B. They’d so rarely had the choice. It takes all they’ve got not to throw themselves around A and beg them not to leave. “Stay, please,” they ask in a small, trembling voice. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

A smiles halfway and gently pats B’s leg. “Seeing as how I live here, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” They take their spot at the end of the couch and pull B’s legs over their own, flicking the TV to a familiar movie. B tries to keep up with the plot, but they keep falling in and out of a fitful, restless sleep, tossing, turning, unable to get comfortable enough.

When B’s about ready to cry from exhaustion, A’s there, covering them up with another blanket, bringing them a glass of water, gently stroking the damp hair off their forehead before laying a cold cloth over it. They flinch at first, but the cool dampness eases the fire of their fever, even for just a moment. The last thing B remembers before falling unconscious is a gentle hand squeezing theirs.

It could be minutes or hours later when they jolt awake from a fever dream in a cold sweat, choking and coughing. They’ve kicked off their blankets and the cloth is nowhere to be found, but the chills are back in full force. A appears in B’s blurred vision, hand held to B’s forehead. “Poor thing. Your fever’s worse,” they murmur.

B’s still gasping for breath, curled up in the fetal position, body wracked by the shakes as they try force the words through their chattering teeth. “A...It's so cold. I’m so scared.”

If B was more lucid, they’d see something in A’s eyes crack wide open at their weak, fearful cries. A pulls the trusted grey blanket from the floor and wraps it back around B, rubbing their arms to try and make them feel warmer. There's something in the tenderness of the gesture, and B’s panicked gasps turn into soft, quiet sobs. They try and cover their face with one hand, but A’s hand is there, catching their wrist and wiping the tears away with their thumb.

“Hey. You’re gonna be okay. We just gotta get through tonight, alright?” A’s voice matches their usual cheery demeanor, but B can see the fear in their own eyes. They don’t know what they’re doing either.

“Why are you helping me?” B whispers in a tear-roughened voice.

A shrugs. "You're sick. You need help. Is it that so surprising?"

B's eyes flash a delirious spark. "You don't get it. I'm a broke scholarship student. I'm nothing like you. I'm not fun, or bubbly, or rich, or any of those things you are, and I don't fit in here. So why?"

B can't stop the words now, every single insecurity laid bare. "Why do you try to talk to me when I'm nothing but rude to you? Why'd you invite me here? Am I just a project to you? Why are you helping me? I'm not worth it!" The words spill out before B can stop them, and the raw hurt in A's eyes nearly rips B's heart out of their chest.

B claps their hand over their mouth, tears flooding their eyes. Now they've done it. They've laid it all out there. A's gonna kick them to the curb. And B won't blame them one bit.

But instead, A just looks at them, and pulls B into a hug. Their voice wavers only a bit as they whisper in B's ear: "You're not a project. You are completely worth being cared for. And you’re not the only one who knows what it feels like to not fit somewhere. Trust me.”

Alone. In a big, empty house. Studying on a Friday night. No plans of their own.

A, are you lonely, too?

Their words are so simple.

And yet they're everything B didn't know they needed to hear. A's got one arm around their shoulders, and one hand threaded through their sweaty, fever-damp hair, and they're cradling B so tightly it’s like they're the one who needs to be held.

B can't find the words to apologize or comfort them back. They're too tired for that. But they wrap their other arm around A and let their head rest on their shoulder. They stay like that for ages until their head begins to drop, and A shifts so they’re both laying down, B curled against A, A’s arm wrapped around their shoulders as they tuck a blanket around them both.

And finally, finally, B lets go. It's safe to fall, this time around. Because for the first time, there's someone there to catch them.

#sickfic #whump #sickfic prompt #whump prompt #cold whump #lol i rewrote this four times #can i just be chill about whump #no #no i cannot #also it’s cooler today #fall means whump weather #I don’t make the rules

[thefanbasewhore]

His

Prompt no. 31 from @sweeterthanthis's "Quote me on it" 6k writing challenge! - Suck me, beautiful. - Also sorry for all the repost! - tags problem

Summary || Bucky doesn't like when his things gets touched.

Paring || Biker! Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word count || 4,015

Warning || (18+, content) , degradation, slight dub-con (but not really, reader is willing), p in v, oral receiving , jealous!Bucky, - you have been warned.

Side note || shout out to my bestie @fuckandfluff for beta reading this for me <3

It is hard to miss his eyes, the way they darken just enough to show interest. Dark and shallow like the depths of the deepest canyon – shallow with no sign of life. Sparking in this little game of predator and prey but no one dares to make a move.

Tugging his lip between teeth the moment he catches your glance, smirking as flirty eyes run up and down your body but then back to his friend. His gaze is hot - pure lava that burns the skin, but it feels so, so good.

To have the attention of James Barnes, a man your mother would never approve of and other men cower to. He is beautiful, seafoam blue eyes that accompany strong features, and soft, pink lips to top it off.

You smile shyly, cheeks darkening under the gaze as top off the few coffees on at the bar. Bucky watches at the corner of his peripheral, casually conversing but cannot help but notice the way the man comes behind you, pressing a hand to the small of your back as he joins into the conversation.

Bucky leans forward, listening intensely as the hand slips lower and lower until it cups the curve of your ass. Bucky stands so fast with blurred vision, with one goal in mind; protect his girl’s honor but he watches the way your lips twitch into a polite smile as you throw your head back to laugh, quickly excusing yourself but not before catching the intense, darkening gaze of Bucky.

Two rather large hands grasp your arm, pulling you into the side pantry, located right before the kitchen doors with force.

"Wh-." You don't even get the chance to speak before being pressed against the wall - a heavy weight, chest crushing against your back. Soft, heavy breaths as a hand anchors your hip, pressing you harshly into the metal preparation table. A hand flat against your shoulder and lowers you down until your stomach touches the table, bending you to his will.

"You wanted this, didn't you, pretty girl?" He coos as the curve of his nose runs through your hair, taking a lungful of scent, floral mixed with strawberry shampoo and a hint of grease. You let out an exaggerated squeal as he pushes his hips deeper against your ass to feel the heavy thickness of his aching cock. "Oh, you did."

Calloused but gentle hands grasp your shoulders, running up and down the length of back as he presses a few meaningful kisses to your spine. "Want me to fuck you right here? Mmmm, you dirty girl."

"James, we can’t do this -."

"I'll do whatever I want." He hisses against your skin, "When I want to and there's nothing you can do about it."

Warm, smooth lips press into your shoulder following with a thick line of spit from his hot tongue and nipping teeth.

Nimble fingers dig into the skin of your shoulder, turning you around to face him with a deep scowl. A gentle hand cups your face - angling your eyes to meet his face, fingers soaking the skin of your hairline. He does not move, not breath fanning your face as he just stares.

So beautiful like this, flushed and hair messily forming knots from his hands and a few loose pieces stick to your wet skin. A cool hand against your neck releases a gasp from your lips but he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, nibbling on your bottom lip and molding his body into your own.

It is feverish, the way your hands raise to spread into his hair, feeling his breath hitch. A rough hand pulls at the blouse of your dress, exposing the heavy breast. Bucky presses his lips into your own watching as your eyelashes flutter close and inhale deeply.

"Sweet girl, tell me -." He rubs his harness roughly against you, nipping at the skin of your neck. "Did you like his hands on you?"

A whine gets stuck in your throat as harsh teeth nip at your lip with a growl and in response lean forward to connect the invisible line, but he stops you with the press of his fingers, but you continue to reach forward to split his lips open and slide your tongue in. Eyes tightening with envy, lips long and thinning as a result but it does not stop him from returning it, sliding his tongue against your own with ferocity.

Bucky huffs - hands falling to cup your ass, massaging the fat between his hand with a squeeze. "You're making it hard to stay mad at you."

Buck’s eyes flutter, eyelashes soothing the skin of your breast with a huff. He says for a second, evaluating the situation: his hardness throbbing, pressed between your creamy thighs.

“Buck..” The whine of his name wanting and feral shoots straight to his aching cock.

Fingers cup your chin and grip to watch lip’s part with want, while two metal fingers touch your tongue, sliding along the ridges of it until they reach the back of your throat, gagging around them but Bucky doesn't pull away instead holds them there, a cocky smirk pressing against your cheek with harsh kisses. "You don't get a say, keep your mouth shut, do you understand?"

"Yes, I'm sorr -."

"What are you sorry for? Tell me, sweet girl."

You try to speak but Bucky does not give you the chance, "Say sorry for being a little whore."

"Buck!" Two thick, cold fingers run along the underside of your breast, slow and antagonizing as they trail across the skin of your stomach to the hem of your panties teasingly.

The other hand - still wrapped around your hair pulls tightly, "I told you to say sorry."

"I'm sorry!" You whine and peer up into his eyes with a quivering bottom lip, only to be met with the intense dark gaze.

"For what?"

"Being a little whore." You whine pathetically, "I'm sorry!"

Two large fingers spread over your clothed pussy with a loud whine, pushing your hips into the working digits. "Please, please."

To your surprise Bucky moves closer, sinking to his knees with a few seconds of silence to commit the sight to his memory. Hips lift from the cool table as Bucky clicks his tongue under his breath, lips move agonizingly slow, hands cupping both of her breasts through the fabric of your bra feeling nipples react instantly, hard through the thin material of the shirt.

“I-I..” Tears of frustration, wet eyes, wanting to cry and beg but it would be no use. Not with those cold, daring eyes.

Bucky can't help but stare, the light-colored fabric left little to the imagination, dark hairs shape against it, the wet patching showing just how badly you want him.

With your eyes closed, it is practically sensory overload. Skin on fire, small bee stings follow the warmness of his touch. Ears twitch with heat, breath against the skin of your thighs as lips touch the inner skin. Buck makes sure to take his time, spreading the wetness around the bare mound with his thumb, throat dry and his mouth parting with want.

Eyelashes flutter with a moan, skin flushing pink with chest heaving with deep breaths, grinding your own desperate hips against his hand.

His hand leaves you completely with a loud protest, but it is cut short with a hand against your hip to flip you around onto your stomach, face pressing against the cool metal as the same hand digs into your right hip, dragging them high into the air.

His length is heavy, straining against the back of your thigh. Pressing a kiss to your lower back up to the bare skin of shoulder blades. The swirling and clanking of vibranium plates as a barbarous hand kisses the flesh of your ass, harsh and brutal with every clench of his jaw.

A gentle palm smooths the burning, reddening skin. His other thumb spreading across your clit, whining with the contact. His finger’s hook inside with no warning, filling you to the brink

The two fingers scissor against your walls, coat with her arousal that helps him trust them back into you again until they hit that spongy part that makes you squeal. The instant the sound leaves your lips, your hand cups your mouth to conceal the noise but he only slaps it away with threatening eyes, "I want to hear every single sound, understand?"

You squeeze around him, hips naturally fighting his own trust of his fingers. "You look so fucking good, moaning my name so everyone can hear you."

He groans at the tightness and it instantly sends shivers down his skin, electric shocks down his spine to his dripping cock, pre-cum smearing against the confides of his boxers, a wet patch seeping through the dark, jean material.

Fingers never lead up, filling and entering as soon as they left, over and over again until you feel a sudden snap, a wave of heat that curls inside your stomach, mouth ajar as Bucky quickens the pace, pressing soft kisses to your underthighs, watching his fingers move in and out. Lips sucking softly on the skin, huffing in frustration at his own arousal throbs to replace his fingers, watching as you drip into his fingers down his hand and your thighs.

“Buck!” it’s a warning to make him suck harder; fingers so good it makes you mewl.

“Cum pretty girl, give it to me.”

All it takes is seven words and his finger to milk you through your orgasm. Legs begin to tremble, his heart thumping inside his chest as your walls squeeze his fingers with a cry. "That's it, good girl."

Your chest falls and raises quickly against the table, but Bucky’s fingers do not leave the heat between your thighs. Blind fingers reach behind to palm his hardness, it's so gentle and it’s an experimental touch that makes him groan and heart flutter but he chooses to ignore it and grunt loudly.

He uses this time to look at you, completely soaked, begging for more as your thighs squeeze together.

"Greedy Girl, stop that."

Hands spread across the back of bare thighs, trailing to squeeze a large handful of your cheek. "You look so good like this."

His arms flexes and expands against your thighs again as fingers curl into the softness of them, anchoring himself as lips closing around your clit, suckling softly.

“Buck - wait!” it is a whine of surprise as his tongue flickers against the sensitive bundle and sinks into the gaping hole. His finger’s moving faster, pace increasing with every squeal, scream or sound that’s made.

His tongue does not let up from your clit as his fingers pushed deeper inside, purposely messaging the spot found in the deepest of your pussy, his cock throbbing at the thought of feeling it.

Hips lifting off the table trying to escape his brutal lips, but he does not allow it as his free hand fell to hips, roughly pushing you back down against the cool surface. “Stay.” The vibrations make you cry, begging for more.

Fingers curling in you to collect any juice they possibly could spreading against you as much as he could manage through the way your hips jolt, a soft mumble makes you moan.

The familiar feeling of heat building up and bubbling in your lower abdomen spreading warmth throughout your whole body as he continued to finger fuck you as fast he could. The heavenly sound of wetness dripping to his hand, covering his face and onto the table. “Give it to daddy, princess, I want more."

“I’m -.“ His name is like a prayer on your lips and his only reply is slamming his finger back into as hard as he could, lips puckering against your clit one more time. Eyes rolling back into your head as the delicious swirl of heat ignites deep inside your stomach and he sucks up everything he could manage.

The instant your body slumps, Bucky's fingers grab at your hips and presses a kiss against your lower back as you hear the jingle of his belt, pulling it from the loops before carelessly throwing it across the room.

His sweetness is short-lived as a hand cups your jaw, his chest pressing against your back with a whisper. "On your knees."

The shuffle from the table to the floor is easy, positioning yourself right in front of his crotch, he is hard, head poking through the top of his boxers easily visible from his unbuttoned pants.

"Suck me, beautiful..." Bucky peers down at you, using his digit to run along the line of you jaw - thumb pinching at the pit of your chin. "Open those pretty lips for me."

Despite the burning of your knees in contrast of the hard, tile floor you oblige, mouth parting as the skin of his appendage dips to your tongue, pressing hard on it. His other hand reaches down to pull his pants, along with the black briefs down his legs just enough to release him.

He groans as his eyes never leave your face - over the soft curve of your nose watching as your lips wrap tightly around it and suck.

"You are so sexy.." beautiful, round, doe eyes peer up at him as he wraps his free hand around his cock, tutting his hips into the tightness of his clasped hand.

He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, pressing the Bulbous head onto your lips. Lips parting to your mouth and stick your tongue out. "Such a good girl. You like sucking cock huh?"

"Yes." Lips closing around the head, sucking slightly but only for a fist to pull at your hair.

"Did I tell you to suck yet?" He snarls, eyes darkening, "Are you that much of a little slut? Or pretending it's his."

The last word he hisses, curling his fingers for he gains the upper hand and feels the knots of your hair fill the gaps between fingers. "I asked you a question, sweets."

"No." The pull that burns your scalp makes you moan in pain, the reply muffled by the heaviness of his cock still lying between open lips. "Not for him, for you."

"Really? Is that why you were letting him touch you, mm?"

"I didn't know - I thought you didn't want to -."

"Didn't want you? While else would I waste my time, mm?" He kisses his teeth with words laced with venom, "Are you that much of a dumb whore to realize?"

He doesn't give you the chance to answer, “Let me tell you what's going to happen, I'm going to fuck you and you're gon’a walk right up to him with my cum running down your thighs and tell him to fuck off, you're not interested, understand beautiful?"

"Yes." With a wanton cry as a wave of heat runs through your body, a soft hand reaching down to cup the softness of your breast. In response clench your tights to create some kind of friction between your throbbing cunt.

"What a dirty girl..." He loves to see the sight, the mess he makes of your big, innocent eyes on the floor of this dirty diner, ready to be fucked like a whore. "Suck it, gorgeous."

The angry bulbous head kisses your lips as a gentle thumb roams over your hairline, "Don't be shy now."

Lips part as Bucky's smell takes over your senses - the smell of soap and chapped, warmed leather as he hits the back of your throat, nose brushing against the dark ringlets of hair. He moans softly biting down on his lower lip as a he pinches the skin of your jaw to lift you head up, "Eyes on me."

Bucky gives a small thrust, just enough to make your eyes water and to fit the rest of his hard-on into your mouth. His fingers clutch the corner of the metal table as a small groan falls from his lips watching as you bring a hand up to cup his balls, not daring to take your eyes away.

"Trying to make up for being a bad girl, huh?" he taunts with a small gasp, but you ignore his teasing and bob your head up and down with precise, slow movements.

He's growing frustrated, face flushing a deep pink color, chewing on his bottom lip but it only gets interrupted by the loud moan every time you bob your head. His fingers burn the base of your skull, throat closing around his cock as you're forced to breath out your nose, but that's even hard as wet tears stain your face and gather above your cupid's bow.

"Enough.." The words are spoken through gritted teeth as if it hurt to mutter, but you don't even get time to think about it before a hand wraps around your arm, lifting you up and muttering, "On the table, hands and knees."

Bucky groans at the sight of you, skirt pulled up to your waist, pussy high with hips in the air for him. A rough hand kneads over the flesh of your ass check, the other one comes up to spank you so hard you cry as tingles of pain mix with pleasure to send goose bumps up your back. Lips coming down to pressing a small kiss against the harsh mark as it welts with pulsing pain, "You look so pretty marked by me, gorgeous girl."

A large hand guides down your back feeling the grooves of your spine against his own fingertips until his hand reached the back of your neck and with one hard grab forces your cheek against the table. Both hands start to knead at your cheeks, brushing over your soaked entrance, a lingering heat trails where his fingers touch, across the back of your thighs, your ass. Whining softly as he speaks, "Something tells me you don't want me here, you would rather it be him."

The click of his tongue tells you he’s disappointed, panic tearing through your throat as his finger moved further from where you need him most, tears of frustration prickling eyes as his hand pushes your head deeper into the table. “No! No – please touch me. I want it, need you so bad.“ With one last crack of your voice words spewing at any effort of some type of relief. "Do whatever you want to me, I'm yours, I'm yours."

The way he tenses and throbs between your ass cheeks is delicious. Not only does he affect you but judging by the way his chest does not dare move, drawing a huff of air at the words. Suddenly there is something soft against your back, a few gentle kisses that make your heart flutter.

Before you know it, Bucky pushes you up the table to make enough room to get onto it himself, kneeling between your thighs. His left leg against your inner knee, spreading you just enough so he can fit. Arching your back against him earns a loud warning - a rumble from his chest. "You take what I give you, understand?"

"Yes, I'm sorry."

He doesn’t give any warning, the act draws your breath away at the sudden feeling of a burning but pleasurable stretching causing a small gasp to fall from your swollen lips. With one callous thrust he splits you open, nudging that spot that makes jump forward but his hand cupping over your deltoid keep you grounded.

Bucky’s finger come behind to tease the bundle of nerves, making your whine as he sinks every inch of his cock until he is nestled so deep it’s hard to breath, it burns so deliciously. Mouth falling agape, cannot even manage to form words so he speaks instead, "So good, baby."

Buck’s hands rest against the swells of your ass, eyes tilting towards the filthy sight of him snuggly pressing into you, testing the waters with one deep, slow thrust. The sound you make is straight up sinful, makes him groan on his own accord as you clench around him.

Hips snap faster watching his cock disappear and reappear into your silky opening over and over again a wave of pleasure tingling his spine every time he hits the spot that makes you dumb. He wants to comment on it but the feelings of you squeezing him with every inch it's impossible to form words, especially the sight of his cock covered in your arousal. His thighs shake until they are numb, his stomach swirling with the familiar feeling building deep inside, body on fire. With every push of his hips, strokes are strong and harsh but hit that spot every. single. time.

The sounds falling from your lips don't help, mixed between pleasure and pain. He loves every second of it, rolling his lips as your pussy drips, smearing his thighs, droplets leaking down your own. His eyes never leave your ass - bouncing against this hips with squeals of his name.

"Shit, gorgeous." It is so sexy, so effortless the way you take him. Back arching pushing him deeper inside of you to hit that spot that makes you cry as a hand rest against the small of back giving him a better angle to fuck you senseless. “Bucky, holy fuck, so goood --."

Small crescents from his nails digging into the flesh of your hip as sweat beads across his forehead and chest, a wave of heat rushing over his body as he grows closer and closer. His thrust growing disorganized and haphazard forming a new pattern that makes your toes girl and he can barely get the words out as his head clouds, "Tell me you want it."

"I want it so bad, Bucky, please, please. Fill me up." It is so sudden, your orgasm hits you blindly with white, searing pleasure that makes small black orbs form in your vision. Bucky chokes at how hard you clench around him but continues to drive his cock deep inside you, milking you for all you have.

With the last of his trust he explodes, his cum lines your walls, filling you to the brink and stuffing you full. There's so much of it, it drips onto the table leaking between the both of you, but he doesn't dare move only peers down at you with those pretty blue eyes.

Sagging into the table and completely spent as a soft hand rubs your hair, fingers lovingly running across your hairline. He presses a kiss to your forehead, one against your cheek before cupping where his lips touched, angling your face to his own to press a soft kiss against your lips. With one last kiss to your nose, he helps put your arms back through the sleeves of your stress, sighing softly against your skin, "You okay?"

"Mmm." You agree, eyes shutting gently but only lean forward to press a kiss to his lips. "I'm yours, Buck."

"Yes, you are, honey." He promises and slides out of you with a hiss but that does not stop his eyes from dipping between your legs, smirking as you instinctually spread them, revealing the beautiful sight of him leaking from you. Two large fingers roam over the hood of your pussy, rubbing the folds before they split you open again. The sound that follows is filthy and he hums in response.

Those same fingers now prod against your lips, parting them open until the salty, blank taste invades your mouth.

"I want you stuffed in every hole, I want you smelling like me before you tell that asshole." You watch wide eyed and blank as he pulls up his pants and tucks himself back in. Pressing one more kiss to your lips before picking the panties off the ground shoving them into his pocket.

"Baby, I need those -."

"You didn't think I was serious huh?" Bucky chuckles darkly, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, you're gonna tell him and everyone in this diner is going to know you're mine."

tags: @kpopgirlbtssvt, @slytherdorxmd, @sugarpunch-princess, @old-enough-to-know-better73, @maxsaturdayhatesnarwhals, @Fajitasandfics, @devilswaldorf, @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123, @grubler, @SodDy030, @agent-catfish-kenobi,@scarletglowss, @abitchforbarnes, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @jewishdelis, @klorpski, @kaitieskidmore1, @peterpstuff, @akaaaaashiiii, @angelsandsorcery, @moony-is-bae, @yliumy, @watermelonsponge, @stolenxkissess, @peakascum, @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme, @crvecem, @likealadygodiva, @harrysthiccthighss, @burnerbitchh, @sergeantjamesbbarnes, @amelia-song-pond, , @Jallen0126

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic

[sylverstorms]

Miranda x Abigail ----The Song of the Crow Ch. 3

Ch.1 Ch.2

[Abigail]

Blurry. Unfocused.

It feels like there's a light at the end of this long tunnel, but Abigail is too exhausted to try and reach it.

All around her, the darkness that spreads is both familiar and alien. Oily, liquid shadows cover the ground, the walls. She tries to run forward but cannot move, rooted on the spot by her left arm.

When she turns to look, the appendage is pure black, melded with the same substance that surrounds her.

A gasp;

She snaps awake to a foreign setting, a dimly lit lab, the scent of disinfectant strong in the air.

“Finally awake, I see.” the voice that speaks to her makes her freeze. She has heard it before, inside the temple where Miranda holds her sermons...

No…

Abigail tries to twist her body to confirm what she already knows, only to realize she is bound by thick vines around her torso that pin her upright to the wall.

“...Mother Miranda?”

“Ah, so you recognize me.” the prophetess says.

Her heels give a few ominous taps that bring them face to face. Abigail's eyes zero in on the crow-like mask that lies between them, first, before they lock with Miranda's.

She has never seen irises like that before, such vivid, stark blue, the color of the icy mountaintops around the village. She’s sure she’s never held that piercing gaze prior to this moment… and yet, something about it feels oddly familiar.

The rest of the woman is shrouded by black feathers woven together into a tight cloak.

“This is a little extreme, don't you think?” Abigail refers to her bonds as she struggles, to no avail. If anything, the damn things grow tighter.

“You wouldn't say that if you saw what you did last night.” the woman replies. “Speaking of which... do you remember what happened yesterday?”

Abigail blinks, then, at a snail's pace, starts to recall. “I was with Lady Eira... and the B.S.A.A. chopper showed up and I...” Oh, God. There was a grenade. A blast. Black feathers. “And I...”

Died...?

“And you jumped to your death.”

I died. I died. I slapped that grenade away and it exploded so close to my arm there is no way I—

Abigail's eyes hesitantly fall to her left arm, which she now realizes feels strange. Numb. Alien to the rest of her body. The tar-black limb she sees there is part of her, it sure seems that way, but it's also not and it shouldn't be there, she shouldn't be here—

“Stop. You're hyperventilating.” Miranda's voice, sharp and cold, is the only thing that breaks her out of her panicked haze. “Calm yourself. Breathe.”

“What is this, what did you do?!” she demands, voice cracking.

“I saved your life.” she says it so simply it’s aggravating.

“Get this thing off of me!” The more Abigail fights it, the more foreign her arm becomes to her. She cannot move it. She cannot control it, though she senses it can overpower her.

“I can't do that, I'm afraid. This is part of you now, whether you like it or not.” Miranda tells her, tone flat. “The fact you are alive and sane enough to argue with me now is a miracle, Abigail. You'd have nightmares for the rest of your life if you saw what state you were in when I brought you here.”

The brunette cannot speak. She merely focuses on her breathing, on her heartbeat that doesn't feel normal. Every passing second is another electric shock, another realization of just how deeply through her the dark mass is woven. Its roots are wrapped around her lungs, her veins, her bones.

“I can teach you to control it. But I require your full cooperation in this.” Miranda continues and Abigail hates the fact her voice grounds her. “If you do not work with me, then I have no use of you.”

“So, you're saying?” she pants.

“You have two choices. I can remove what's giving you life right now and let you die. Or. You can cooperate with me on my experiments –work for me— and I shall give you anything you desire in exchange.”

“That what you tell all your guinea pigs?” Abigail asks.

When Miranda's hand shoots up like a bullet, claw-shrouded fingers an iron ring around her neck, however, she begins to think provoking the ire of this woman wasn't the smartest decision.

“Why must you oppose me just for the sake of doing so, Abigail?” she asks, with the same deadly cool voice and glacial eyes. “I know you're smarter than this.”

Her sudden movement has brought a waft of her perfume to Abigail's nose. A mix of roses and spicy undertones that smells expensive.

Why do I recognize this scent...

“You worked for me since the moment you came in my village. You risked your life for me and you died for me.” Abigail’s frown darkens as Miranda speaks.

The dots she’s connecting form a terrible image.

“No, no. I... never even met you…”

Miranda takes a step back.

In the blink of an eye, Eira stands before Abigail, with her knowledgeable, cryptic smile and her strange cane. It makes sense right here –too much sense— why Miranda’s eyes are so familiar to her.

“Do you see now, girl?” she asks.

Abigail wants to cry. She doesn't want to believe it that the old lady she helped for years, cared for –cares for— is the same woman she always thought was a selfish megalomaniac manipulating the village.

Joke's on you now, isn't it...

To almost have died for a lie—

Her anger triggers something within the strange arm. The vines creak in their attempt to contain her. Deep down, she knows she has the power to break free –to do more than break free— but is unable summon it at will.

She glances down at her left side, then back at Miranda, who is in her own form again.

“There is no Eira. There never was.” The words cut as if she's drawing a knife over her skin. “But I was always there and shall continue to be here. If you put your anger aside, you will realize nothing’s changed. All the devotion you gave to the illusion, you can now give to the real thing.”

As if. She wants to scoff at her. Fuck her. This liar. Fuck her.

Then again…

Does it hurt this much because she's right?

Abigail did give her life for the old woman. Although the sacrifice stemmed from other reasons, Eira came to mean much to her without her even fully realizing it. Even if the outside was a lie, the person she spent so much time with is right in front of her.

And sad as it is, there’s nobody else of any importance left in her shipwreck of a life.

On one hand, Abigail considers accepting death just to spite the feathered bitch. Ultimately, though, she arrives to the conclusion it is a shameful stupidity of her if she wastes this second chance that’s so graciously been given. There must be a reason for her survival.

Plus, loathe as she is to admit it, Miranda is right about one thing; her stubborn pride doesn’t let her take the easy way out a second time.

-

-

“Excellent. We start right away. Break out of those bonds.” the priestess commands, upon her begrudging agreement to work with her.

“Oh, yes, why didn't I think to free myself all this time.” Abigail rolls her eyes.

Miranda turns to give her a look, underneath her mask and hood of feathers. “It's easily within your power. You did it yesterday, to attack me.”

That’s the first good news of the day. “Did I land a good hit, at least?” Abigail asks breathlessly as she pushes with all her strength. The freaking vines don't budge.

“You received more than you gave, really.” Miranda leans against the long table in the middle of the room, observing.

Why am I getting the feeling she's enjoying this? ... The sadist. Abigail is used to her ways, though. ‘Eira’ loved putting her through all sorts of useless crap and watched her struggle, just like that.

It takes half an hour of constant effort.

Abigail's skin tears from how hard the vines rub against her, yet it heals up pretty quick. Her strength doesn't feel all that great, however and her left arm is dead. It's dead.

“Stop using your muscles and start using your mind.” Miranda speaks as if she's bored.

“Easy for you to say. This useless thing refuses to move.”

“Well, your Cadou is about as stubborn as you are, but it can be made to listen. Find the way.”

Abigail stops struggling fruitlessly. She closes her eyes and listens, to her new heart, to the urges of the parasite inside her. She can sense where it starts, what it has altered and replaced for her to still draw breath. Their symbiotic connection runs deeper than skin and tissue. The Cadou craves violence. It wants blood. It identifies with the part of her that wishes for these same things.

A side that wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for them.

An image of the two Redfields, laughing happily –celebrated as heroes— after they've ruined any semblance of family she ever had, flashes before her mind.

When she opens her eyes, jagged blades are protruding from her arm and the vines lay in tatters on the ground.

“Good.” Miranda nods. “Keep this sensation close. It’s how you’ll call upon your power, from now on.”

Keep this close, huh. Abigail’s dual-colored eyes stare down at her ebony hand. Little does Miranda know, the feeling of wanting to rip away at the Redfields never really leaves her, anyway.

-

-

Days blend into nights.

The ‘trials’ Abigail is put through begin as early as sunrise and reach far into the evening. She has to admit, however, they are not nearly as inhumane as she expected, from someone like Miranda. Their nature ranges, from testing out her speed, to her strength, to her endurance and how well –or how not so well— she can command her new arm to do her bidding.

If one thing is for certain, it is that Miranda puts to shame all the trainers Abigail had in the army issuing orders over her head. She never imagined the day would come when they would look like innocent, harmless, sweet puppies before someone far worse than them.

She generally considers herself a patient person and she has been taught to grit her teeth through a lot, but damn if this woman doesn’t make her want to fall onto her own blades to escape.

Miranda takes notes the entire time. Abigail is certainly curious about them, although she knows better than to waste her time asking. She has accepted by now she’s known the prophetess for years, albeit in a different form and there is just no getting a straight answer out of her.

Night falls. Wolves howl in the distance.

Now that her blood calms after all the exercise, the cold begins to creep up her skin. Abigail approaches Miranda, still deep in her notes, to pick up the coat she’s left by her. As she reaches for it, however…

Images flash before her mind.

Her senses suddenly expand, as if they are one with the roots spanning wide beneath the village and the forest. She feels, rather than hears, footsteps on the frozen soil.

Trespassers, the thought blooms in her head as if planted there.

Miranda’s hand shoots out to grab her by the back of her shirt before she loses her balance. The claws graze her skin, not too hard and not gentle either. She fights off the urge to shiver from the feel.

Blue eyes meet heterochrome.

“You felt that too?” If only she wasn’t so damn expressionless, Abigail would be able to guess if that is a good or a bad thing.

“I don’t know what I felt.” she replies.

“Our dear friends from B.S.A.A are back at it again, with a more subtle approach, this time.” the blonde explains. “These fools cannot grasp the power of the Megamycete. They will never get close enough to blow it up. They will never even step foot in my village.” A pause. “Can you tell how many they are? How far away?”

“Of course not.” Abigail frowns. How would anyone know that?

“Five. Two and a half kilometers southeast from here.” Miranda shocks her by saying. “Normally, I would have Heisenberg dispose of them, as they will soon step into his territory. But…”

Abigail already doesn’t like what comes next when she trails off, looking at her like that. There goes tonight’s sleep.

“I think I will send you, instead.” The edge of her lip curves up, a raise so slight a human’s eye would never see it. “I don’t care how you deal with them, if you kill them or not. I want them out of my grounds. Come back to report you’re done and I will give you tomorrow off.”

Abigail leaves the coat back down with a sigh that casts smoke into the icy air.

“Sounds good.”

-

-

On one hand, it feels exhilarating to breeze through the forest knowing no animal can stand in her way, if it is even foolish enough to try. The wolves that once scared her are now terrified of her.

On the other hand, Abigail would really pick her bed over another dose of running and trying to will her stupid Cadou to action.

Let’s just get this over with quickly. she thinks, decided on inflicting a few wounds to send the assholes of B.S.A.A running back to their transport with their tail between their legs. It all changes when that strange sensation of feeling too much at once overwhelms her again;

“Don’t worry. We won’t charge in like those brainless idiots.” she hears their comms through the forest.

Instinctively, she has knelt into a crouch to be in contact with the ground. What lies beneath it is familiar; it is what gave her life. It is what gives her power.

“Come on, guys. Let’s get that sample and return to Chris. We can’t disappoint Redfield after what he’s done for us.”

That name makes Abigail’s eyes go wide. The air shifts course. Ebony nails dig into the snow and soil. Out of all times and places, to hear that name right here feels like a twisted joke fate has tangled her in.

I came to the village to escape. I came to this shithole to be better. To have a quiet, peaceful rest of my life. Why do you bring him up in front of me now?

There is no place to run when what you’re running from comes to you.

Abigail closes her eyes. She cannot run a second time.

In her mind, she pictures Alex and tells her that she tried. She tried to prove her wrong. She tried to be the good one of the family, perhaps in a desperate attempt to redeem the rest. She did exactly as promised, years ago.

But.

She understands now this feeling boiling inside her will never go away. No matter how many bullets she shoots and dodges to protect civilians in the army, no matter how many grenades she throws herself in front of, or how much danger to save others. She will always be haunted by the memory of that last call;

“Alex?” Abigail ducks behind a pillar to answer the phone. She’s in the middle of a reckon, but even under fire she would pick up for her sister. “It’s so unlike you to call.”

“Why are you whispering, Abigail? Off saving kittens from trees, again?” Alex chuckles on the other end.

“If by kittens you mean hostages and by trees Afghanistan, then…” she trails off. “Hey, everything okay?”

“Well, I wish I could say I called to chat, but… time is running out. Don’t ask questions right now –just listen to me.” she cuts off any ‘what do you mean’s about to be said. “The Redfields know about you.”

Five simple words are enough to cut her breath off. She takes a few seconds to process what this means for her.

“Are they after you? I will come find you. We’ll bring the fight to them—”

“No. No!” Alex shouts. She has never so much as raised her voice before. “You will not come here, ever! I am sending you coordinates right now, for a village that’s been in our father’s notes as a last-resort escape. There’s a woman there named Miranda who he has always referred to as his mentor. Find her. The Redfields cannot get to you there.”

“Find his mentor, are you serious? The one who inspired his insane plans of godhood?” Abigail hisses back. “I’m not leaving you alone there, Alex!”

“You won’t be. I… there’s a lot I haven’t told you about me, Abigail.” she lowers her voice to where it can barely be heard. “This… this has to be goodbye, for now. Maybe for a long time. Swear to me that you will go to the village. And that no matter what happens, you will not search for me.”

“Alex—”

“Hurry!”

“I… I swear.”

“...Good.” An exhale. “Keep trying to prove me wrong, yes?” she asks. “I’ll see you on the other side, little sister.”

“Alex wait, wait!!” Abigail screams with blurry eyes into the night, but the other line has already gone cold.

She will always loathe the ‘heroes’ who took her last support out from right under her.

“…I can’t prove you wrong.” Abigail hangs her head in defeat.

She accepts it, right here, that everyone in their messed up family is destined to be a villain.

Herself included.

-

-

Without sound, without warning, Abigail summons a spike in her left hand and aims. All she has to do is visualize what she wants –and the parasite does the rest for her.

Like a spear launched with the speed of a bullet, the spike tears a hole through the first soldier’s head. His body is shoved aside like a ragdoll from the force, as the rest shout and open fire towards every direction. A bullet grazes her dark arm, yet she feels nothing from it. Abigail’s mouth curves in a smile.

With her superior speed, she gets right in the middle of their group before they have the chance to even really see her. A blade from her elbow skewers the soldier behind her like meat on a stick, while the rest watch in absolute, wide-eyed horror.

“Call Redfield.” she orders.

Their response is more ammunition wasted. She can see the trajectory of the bullets as if they’re floating by in slow motion.

Abigail slashes the next one’s head clean off. Before the other two can even attempt anything, she grabs the soldier closest and leaves him behind her in pieces.

The last man falls to the ground and aims straight at her head with his rifle. He’s shaking all over so bad his aim will probably be shit even if she stands absolutely still.

“Y-you demon!”

Abigail stares at him impassively, with one crimson and one brown eye. She can feel the blood splatters on her cheek trail down, dripping past her chin and the ends of her hair. Yes, she’s sure the analogy is fair.

But she is past the point of caring.

“Call Redfield.” she repeats.

Somewhere in the back of her head, a single sentence plays on repeat. “Our last name will always follow you like a curse, Abigail.”

The soldier tries to open fire at her, but Abigail crushes his hand under her heel before he can pull the trigger. His screams echo into the night.

“It’s in your genes to be what he envisioned. To be just like him.” Turns out Alex was right all along. Abigail was delusional to think she could be anything different. She should have stayed with her brother and sister. Now that blood calls for blood, she will avenge them.

“I won’t say it again.”

The soldier valiantly refuses. Sadly for him, however, Redfield finds that exact moment, as though prompted by fate, to reach out to him. “Beta squad come in, come in. What in the world is going on?!”

Abigail pries the radio from the man and presses the button to transmit just as she makes him sing loud enough to rouse the whole forest.

“Tonight, it is your men.” she says into the comms. “Tomorrow, it will be your sister. And you are last.”

“Who are you?!” Chris shouts on the other side. Good. He will now marinate in the same darkness she did for years.

“You will always be one of us.” Alex’s voice whispers in her mind.

“I’m what’s left.”

There is a pregnant pause on the other side.

And then;

“…Wesker.”

-

-

[Miranda]

She can feel it in the air that something’s changed, the time it takes for Abigail to return. The forest is watered with blood.

Miranda wonders what made her snap. An hour ago, she never would have imagined a scenario where the brunette did anything more than scare the intruders off. Intimidation –though not of the enemy— is the very reason she sent her, after all.

The very reason she sent Heisenberg to deal with the same trespassers.

Miranda is tolerant to many of her Lords’ quirks and personality traits, but disloyalty is not one of them. She doesn’t want Karl getting ideas of ever thwarting her power, nor does she want any of them to think they are unreplaceable.

Abigail is to serve as his reminder. Someone stronger than him to dangle over his head from now on, should it keep producing reckless, foolish thoughts of turning against her.

The slaughter at the forest must have certainly passed the point across. Her plan is a greater success than Miranda expected.

Except, she’s not smiling.

She turns towards the entrance of her lab before Abigail has even stepped in the cave. When she shows, she is covered in crimson splatters. Her left arm seems a lot more graceful in its movements.

“So.” Abigail speaks up first. “Remember when you told me I get anything I want in exchange for my cooperation?”

“Indeed.” Miranda nods.

“You have my complete and utter loyalty from now on... If you give me Redfield in return.”

Miranda wonders what brought this on, but this is not the right moment to ask her questions. She knows she will find out eventually. They have time. For now, she is content having every puzzle piece she could have wanted fall right into place for her.

“He is as good as yours.”

#mother miranda x abigail #mother miranda x oc #mother miranda #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #fanfiction #creative writing #karl heisenberg #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #and that one fishdude #in which the reveal happens and if you guys don't know anything about the Weskers you're probably wondering what the hell the author is on #but if you do you'll like it

[yaoiaddict00]

So like I started playing mystic messenger again and…… I have an unhealthy obsession for this fictional man. His voice, his hair, his face, his jokes. I. Cannot. Even. He is just so perfect. Who you may ask? 707. Luciel. Saeyoung. Red head hacker. I just think he would treasure his s/o and just. UGH. Anyway, here is some smut. Plot? Never heard of her. This will be with a female reader so sorry in advance :(

Saeyoung x fem reader

Warnings: Smut. Like only smut.

The wet noises from your pussy and his mouth, your muffled moans compete from dominance in the otherwise silent room. Saeyoung’s eye open to see why your voice is so quiet only to furrow his eyebrows when he notices you biting your wrist to hold back his favorite song. He stops his assault on your core and you finally can catch your breath. Your chest heaving up and down trying to recover from your husbands attack and your eyes opening slightly and you loosen your grip on your wrist. A mop of red enters your vision and a strong hand lands next to your head while a warm hand grabs your forearm and pulls it away from your face.

“Don’t you dare hold your voice back, I wanna hear all of you.” He says in a soft yet stern voice. The look in his eyes, full of hunger, desire, and love. His commanding nature caused a shiver to run down your spine and goose bumps scatter over your skin, you’re mouth closing and innocent eyes staring back at him. He slowly smiles seeing your expression before moving his free hand down to your sweet spot and rubbing slow circles ripping a gasp from your soft lips, a small sound rises in your throat and your hips buck upwards trying to get more friction. “That’s it, good girl.” He soothes examining your face. Your body reacts to the praise by releasing even more juices from your hole, clenching around nothing. Your teeth grab your bottom lip and muffle the noises coming from your throat. Saeyoung’s face scrunches looking in your eye. He mouths ‘open’ while picking up his pace on your clit. You obey and open your mouth wide, your throat opening and releasing a sweet, squeaky moan making your husband smirk, his lips shining with your juice. A warmth fills your body starting from your toes and rising to your head, your body feels light as the coil in your stomach tightens, your stomach twitching and legs shaking as bliss overtakes your body. Saeyoung’s fingers keep a steady pace while your hips buck through your orgasm, your pants filling the room and causing your husband's pants to grow impossibly tight. He continues his motions until your weakly push away from him, the over stimulation starting to hurt.

His soft smile stays on his face as he moves the hand by your head to smooth your hair back before resting on your cheek, the comforting warmth of his hand causing you to nuzzle into him. Your eyes open and meet his, his face soft yet needy, his body aching for you as yours is for him. You weakly raise your hand to hold his, still recovering from your high.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says breathlessly raising his dirtied hand to rest on the other side of you on the coffee table allowing him to bend down and capture your lips in his. His tongue still tasting faintly of you but his warm and passionate kiss numbed your mind. The table creaked from the shift in weight and the sound of you and your husbands breaths and lips attacking each other where the only noises in the room. Your free hand reached blindly for his jacket, pushing it back on his shoulder trying to take it off. He laughed into your mouth before removing his hand from your face and standing up, shrugging his jacket off and pulling his shirt over his head all while staring into your eyes with a smug grin. Your thighs clenched together and your arms covered your body in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold and his hungry eyes. You were never confident and always hated your body but Saeyoung made it his mission to show you how beautiful you truly are. His clothed leg slipped between your thighs before they could fully close and his not bare arms reached for yours, pulling them apart before leaning down and grabbing your right nipple in his mouth. A softer moan escaped you and your arms immediately closed around his head, fingers grabbing handfuls of his hair and pulling him closer. His tongue worked on your nipple, occasionally biting it and tugging while his right hand attempted to massage your other. Your chest arched into him and your thighs closed around his, hips searching for anything to grind on. You found his thigh quickly and started rubbing up and down, trying to release the pressure building in your core, but the friction wasn’t enough.

“Please….” You whispered, causing Saeyoung to lift his head, your arms reluctantly letting go of his crimson hair.

“Please what?” He asked with a grin. His hands rested on your bent knees slightly pulling them apart and pushed his thigh into your body more causing you to whine. He loved this. He loved seeing you so vulnerable in front of him, your guard completely down. He loved hearing your whines and pleas all for him. He loved feeling your body react because of him. He loved everything about you.

“Please… Saeyoung please…” You said, hands reaching for his belt only to fall short as he pulled away slightly. You knew what he wanted to hear but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. His glasses glistened looking down at you and his smirk grew, waiting for you to cave.

“I don’t understand baby, what do you want?” He teased, his voice in his normal joking tone. His thumbs rubbed the inside of your knees, his way of urging you to say it, letting you know it was ok.

“Fuck me.” You whined but it was all he needed. He moved back, the smile on his face stretching from ear to ear as he unbuckled his belt and removed his clothing. His dick springing upwards, red and angry from neglect. He stepped out of his pants and pushed them aside before returning to you. His fingers teased your folds, gathering your juices before pushing two in. You closed your eyes and moaned, back arching off the table and moving into his touch. He slowly moved his fingers in and out, curling every so often sending electricity shooting through your body. Once he was able to move them freely without much resistance he took them out, marveling at the shine on his fingers from your pussy. You pants and needy look, begging for him, made his dick throb and his face wince. He had to fuck you.

Saeyoung grabbed your hips pulling you closer to him and causing you to squeak at the sudden movement. He grabbed the underside of your knees and lifted your lower half, exposing your most secretive parts to him. Your folds now red from the rush of blood made a slight blush appear on his face. You looked at him, him looking at your pussy, waiting for him to do something. After a quick moment he left go of one of your legs and positioned himself at your entrance, slowly moving his tip to penetrate your hole, before grabbing your leg again and pushing fully in. You sighed at the relief, feeling so full from him. He waited another moment before slowly pulling back and pushing back in.

He always started slow, letting you adjust to the intrusion. Your soft moans filled his ears and excited him even more. Your wiggles of impatience told him you were ready for him to move faster. He picked up his pace, the occasional slapping of skin mixed with your moans and his breathing. Your hands reached for the edge of the table, gripping it to stop you from moving away and grounding you. Your eyes clenched, focusing on the pleasure in your abdomen and the praises from your husband; mouth thrown open sending lewd noises into the air. Saeyoung’s glasses slid down his face due to the sweat appearing on his face but he couldn’t care, he was too focused on your face, your body, and where you two were connected. You clenched around him tighter indicating your climax was approaching. Saeyoung moved faster trying to bring you over the edge again and chasing his own high. The feeling of your gummy walls squeezing around him and your sweet moans rushing him to his finish. Warmth flooded your stomach as he released inside of you, still pumping in and out to ride out his high and finally bring yours. His grunts and praises made your pussy throb and you felt the string in you finally snap, legs shaking in your husbands hands and knuckles turning white from grabbing the table, your hearing momentarily going as the pleasure waved through your body.

After catching your breaths Saeyoung finally pulled out of you, a string of white snapping off his softening dick and your aching pussy. Your hole clenched to keep the last bit of him inside you as he set your lower half down before walking to get a damp towel. You sat in the middle of your living room, the table under you warm and slick from your sweat, the air smelling of love, and your heart pounding with pleasure. This was bliss.

Thank you for reading!!!! Sorry for any spelling errors or any inaccuracy DX

#agent 707 #707 x reader #mysme saeyoung #mystic messenger #707 x mc #mystic messenger smut #saeyoungmysticmessenger #sayoung choi #luciel choi #mysme luciel #luciel x reader #mystic messenger luciel #luciel x mc #smut #wholesome #praise #prasie kink #married #married life #sweet #hot

[stylesberries]

Masterlist

Last Updated: 07/07/21

Thank you guys so much for all the love that you’re giving my writings. It makes me so happy to know that they’re people who enjoy reading things I write. I will be definitely adding to this masterlist, so this is not all you’ll get from me ;) - Hamida

♥ - indicates fluff

✪ - indicates smut

☹ - indicates angst

Bundle Of Love ♥

Harry reflecting upon his love for Y/N.

Despite the fact that you’ve only been dating for a couple of months, he still knew you better than he knew himself. Every stir and every little sound you made in your sleep. To everyone before him they were just stirs and sounds, but for him they had a meaning. He never lets them slip without noticing. He watches your every move carefully to make sure that he makes you the happiest he possibly can and even if that is the case, he still does everything possible to make sure you’re even happier.

Call Me H ✪ ♥

You both walk straight to Harry’s hotel room because you can’t keep hands off of each other anymore. (Is a logical continuation to Stay With Me, but can be read separately.)

“You’re very sweet, Harry. There is just one problem.”

Your eyes become a bottomless well and Harry feels himself drowning in its waters. The curiosity grows in him when he hears mystery in the way the words leave your mouth.

“What problem?” He whispers innocently, his eyes darting at you.

“I really want to fuck you.”

City Lights ♥

Harry asks you a very important question as you drive through the streets of Rome.

The hand wrapped around your side, carefully going in circles, the repeating motions slowly soothing your anxiety.

Harry lowered his head and his lips touched the top of your ears. The warm breath created vibrations against your skin and sent a charge of electricity through your body.

I really love you.

Daddy ✪

Harry wins a Grammy. You weren’t able to be there. Or were you?

“Aren’t you coming in?” Harry asked Jeff as he exited the car, his hand wrapped under his new Grammy.

“I’m not. Enjoy the night, man. You deserve it.” Jeff spoke weirdly as he closed the door behind Harry and waved at him with a suspicious smile on his face.

“Enjoy my night? Don’t you want to come in and drink with me a bit befo-” Harry spoke as he watched the car with Jeff in it drive off.

Egocentric ♥ ☹

Memories of a fight with Harry overflow you, as you wander around the house and end up playing Fine Line on vinyl.

As the first few seconds of the song echoed through the room, I found myself being dragged into a different atmosphere. The one my mental state wouldn’t let me go in without crying.

All of the insecurities and doubts, that I have been overflown with, came over me and dragged me down with them.

Fireflies ♥

Harry has been acting weird for a couple of weeks, but when y/n finally finds out the truth, it’s far from what she assumed.

“Harry, what’s behind your back?” You asked straightforwardly.

He looked uncomfortable and seemed to have been taken aback by your question.

“It’s um-” He brought his hands forward. They held a black folder visibly full of papers. “It’s m’folder with song ideas.” He seemed unsure of the statement himself, but you put the blame on the fact, that he was left dumbfounded by your actions. What was that about though?

Flower Field ♥

Harry accidentally breaks his favorite guitar, which makes it an obvious choice of a present for his upcoming birthday.

“Is it small enough for me to carry it around?” Harry tried his best to guess what exactly you were getting him. He’d been like this since the early morning when you wouldn’t tell him what you’ve gotten for him.

“It’s not small, but you can carry it around.” It was the first question, for which your answer wasn’t exactly a “no”, so Harry smiled, thinking he’s finally onto something. The party took place in a closed down restaurant that you all would go to once in a while. There weren’t many guests. Just the closest friends. “Knowing Harry, it’s probably hundreds of people.” You thought.

Full Of You ✪

It’s your birthday and Harry has an idea of a birthday present.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Harry’s hold tightening around your body and his face snuggling into the crook of your neck. You whined, fighting for a couple more well-earned minutes of sleep.

“Nopies, bunny. Don’t whine at me. We have a long day ahead of us.” Harry excitedly informs you and lets his hands snake over your sides. Your boyfriend moves his mouth over to your ear and whispers this time. “It’s my love’s birthday today.”

Gucci Jumpsuit ♥

Harry pampering Y/N despite her attempts to stop him.

“They have the heels you love. The black ones, you know? They have those in pastel colours. Wouldn’t y’love that?”

“Harr-” I tried to say something in between his Ted Talk on why exactly I have to try those shoes he is talking about.

“And we could look for jeans f’you. You wanted wide leg jeans, remember?” He continued, without pausing even for a second.

Heat ✪

Your boi’s too vanilla for your liking. He refuted that tho.

As he filled you, even more tears started flowing. Your vision turned blurry and your head felt light. All you could feel was the stretch you craved so badly.

“Daddy, please fuck me.” Words leaving your mouth without a single thought in your head. You didn’t care that you’ve never got to ask him if he was actually into such things before, acting purely on instinct. All you wanted was to be filled. All you needed was the sensation of being penetrated by the man you loved.

Love On Tour ♥ ✪

Your parents are coming to meet him but you chose to keep it a secret.

“He deserves to know.” You thought. He was going to meet them today anyways. “He won’t have time to get too nervous, right?” You kept debating on whether or not you should tell him the truth.

Your brows furrowed and your lips were pressed tight together. Harry took a look down at you, and his brows creased as well.

My Princess ✪

You tag along with Harry to his Vogue shoot. The dress is definitely a turn on.

“Ah, please,” Harry whined, letting you wrap your arm around his waist holding him from running away from your wet tongue.

“Please what, baby?” You teased him further, running your nails against the wet trace along his spine.

“Please, touch me.” He begged, pushing his back against your chest in hopes that your arm would move a little lower and touch his crotch even though he knew how much you hated it when he wasn’t patient.

Rainbow Cardigan ♥ ✪

Harry loses his favorite cardigan. You learn how to knit. (Based on the JW Anderson cardigan knitting trend.)

“I cannot lose it. I can’t. What if it’s lost forever? How could I let it out of my sight?” The sight of him so genuinely saddened by the situation made you let out a sigh. You were full of compassion and understanding, trying to remember the last time you saw the poor cardigan. Failing to do so, you turned to your crushed boyfriend and tried to get information out of him.

Right Choice ✪

Harry has a moustache now and you want to get it sticky.

“I’m all for it, so it’s up to you.” Harry nodded and started applying the shaving cream onto his cheeks.

“Just know that you have to eat me out whenever you’re done here because I’m dripping.”

Shattered Glass ☹

You feel overwhelmed by intrusive thoughts and memories of traumatic events. Glass is shattered.

“Hm?” You let your eyes fall on his gentle and almost all-knowing expression.

“I said I know what you’re doing. You’re letting things get to you. I know you can’t stop the flow of thoughts but at least let me know what’s bothering you so I can try to help.” He spoke softly and chose every next word with care as he knew that if he picked the wrong words you would close off even more.

Stay With Me ♥

You meet Harry and fall in love to the art and architecture of Rome.

“You looked very passionate and I would love it if we could sit and discuss it maybe? I know it sounds weird coming from a stranger-” He paused.

“You bet, crazy man.” You thought to yourself and giggled softly, realizing that the possibility that this ball of nerves is a human trafficker is close to zero.

Vegan Cupcakes ☹

You and Harry have been quarantined together and he needs space.

Spending most of the spring together didn’t feel as suffocating for Harry as summer did. Your classes were over and you didn’t take a summer semester, so your time fully revolved around him. Which he liked.

In the beginning.

Until you clung on him like a koala for days and made him cuddle you all the time, which he enjoyed a lot until it became a routine. Harry couldn’t even tell you how he felt because it would hurt your feelings, so he didn’t say anything at all, keeping it all to himself.

Wooden Floor ☹ ♥

Reuniting with Harry after being apart during the quarantine made you realize something.

When I met Harry, and we started dating, I promised myself to give him space and not suffocate him with my love, for I was scared, that he would leave me like everyone before him did.

I had never been loved so much. I had never experienced what I gave people myself. The endless love and loyalty. Harry gave me his all, and I started feeling bad for not showing all of the love I had for him, and yet I still feared losing him because of my obsessive nature.

I sat at the kitchen table and scrolled through our texts with Harry.

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#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles masterlist #harry styles blurbs