#any time one side of the pairing pulls out the best friend card I am immediately on the floor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

manicpixiedreamcurl · 2 years

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For You･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Pairing | Eddie Munson x sunshine!reader

Warnings | 18+ only, 2,700 words of tooth rotting fluff, followed by 2,000 words of pure smut, rounded off with a bit more fluff, swearing, oral (male receiving), vaginal sex, protected sex because this reader is responsible.

Word Count | ~4,840

A/N | Everything I write about Eddie exposes me more than any fic I’ve ever written. And yes, I think I will talk about Lord of the Rings in pretty much everything I write about him.

I thank a god I’ve never met, never loved, never wanted, for you

Catching sight of Eddie’s van through the window, you turn the burner off and jog from the kitchen, sliding along the floor in your frilly socks, just short of slamming into the wall. By the time Eddie’s walking up your drive, you’ve flung the door open. Excitement bubbling, you can’t stop yourself from bouncing on your feet.

“Happy Birthday, Eddie!” You yell, reaching out for him as he approaches. His smile sends a little heat through you he looks you up and down in your sundress.

He’s so handsome, dressed for the late Summer heat. You love his jacket, love how he looks in it, but there’s something about Eddie in just one of his many band t-shirts. You can see the tattoos dotted over his pale arms, his bracelets, and his chain just peeking out from the frayed neckline of his shirt.

When Eddie reaches you, he lets you pull him into a hug, laughing at you still moving up and down.

“You’re more excited than I am,” he murmurs, pressing a short, sweet kiss to your lips.

“I love Birthdays.”

“I know you do,” he nods, remembering the last birthday of one of your cheerleader friends. You’d dragged him into town to look for a gift, there all day as you hummed and hawed over every possibility before landing on what you wanted for her. You then proceeded to spend an egregious amount of time deciding on the right card, even longer writing the message. The day of her Birthday, at school, you’d brought in a green and gold cake, getting practically the whole cafeteria to sing to her as she covered her face, giggling the whole time.

Eddie’s just glad it’s a Saturday.

You grab his hand and pull him inside, then clench your hands tight in excited little fists. He just wants to cuddle you.

“Okay, so, here’s the plan,” you start, straightening your fingers and moving your hands as you go through each step. “I’m making your cake just now, and I thought we could have some here and do your candles and stuff, because I assumed you wouldn’t like that in public later?”

"Damn right,”

“Okay,” you smile. “And we can do your card and your gifts here, too. Then later, we’re meeting your friends for dinner. Just pizza - but it’s within walking distance so you don’t need to drive us and you can have your first actual, legal drink. And I thought, maybe, after dinner,” you say, standing close and looking up into his eyes, tone all innocent suggestiveness. “We could come back here? Does that sound good?”

He nods with enthusiasm, smiling at your soft laughter. Cupping your face, he presses another kiss to your lips, this time letting his tongue find yours, tasting a fading earthy sweetness.

A throat clears, and you jerk around to face your Dad, his expression impassive. “Eddie,” he says. “Nice to see you.”

“You too,” Eddie answers, trying to ignore the way you’re pressing up against his side, your hand on his chest, your arm around his waist. Eddie’s praying he didn’t hear what you said just before, or how you said it.

“It’s Eddie’s Birthday,”

“So you’ve mentioned, with increasing frequency, for the last month,” he answers. “Since you’ve claimed the kitchen for the day, at least let me move through my own hallway in peace.”

“Okay, Dad,” you say, grabbing Eddie’s hand and pulling him easily through to the kitchen, where he’s greeted again by that floral, sweet warm aroma that he’d tasted in your mouth.

He sees there’s three jars of honey open on the counter and furrows his eyebrows. “I was trying to taste for the best one, but actually it makes sense if you decide.”

“This is...for the cake?” Eddie asks, taking the teaspoon you hand him and tasting the most yellow of the three. It’s grainy in the pleasant way that honey can be, a little too sweet. You give him water to wash away the taste, nodding as he tries the next one, more runny and lightly floral.

“Yes,” you answer, turning to switch the stove back on, stirring together milk, butter and cinnamon. “Which do you like best?”

“The last one,” he answers, licking his lips to get the dregs of it. The darkest, a golden brown, almost woody tasting.

You grin. “I like that one, too.”

“So it’s honey cake?”

You nod vigorously, spooning in his chosen honey before continuing to stir. “So, you know I’m reading the Lord of the Rings books. Slowly, but I am enjoying them,” you start. “And last month I was at the bit where the elves are giving them all the supplies, and they’re trying that bread, right? And Gimli! He talks about honey cakes that, um, how do you pronounce the word for the bear men?”

“Beornings,” he supplies.

“The cakes the Beornings made. And I thought, oh that would be so lovely for Eddie! To give you food from this world you love so much.” Your eyes are bright with the excitement of finally getting to spill the whole thought process to him. “And then, when I went looking for a good recipe, in the library I found this!” You grab the open book from the counter and hold it up. The picture on the front is long faded, the plastic covering from the library barely hanging on. “This is a 1965 reprint of a British cookbook that was first published in 1899. The foreword talks about how, at the time, this was like, the go to book for cooks and housewives in England. So, Tolkien was like seven when this came out, and in his biography it says that his Mom looked after him pretty much on her own until he was twelve.” You turn from his wide eyes to take the pot off the stove, wanting to give it a final good stir before you let it steep. “So, this is, entirely conceivably, the recipe for honey cake that literal Tolkien himself ate when he was a kid! And it makes sense then, that this would be what he was picturing when he wrote about honey cakes in the book! And sure, there’s probably been improvements to the recipe in the last eighty-seven years, but I just thought- oh. What’s wrong?”

You abandon the cooling pot at the sight of him, face a little red, bottom lip quivering, fingers pressed to his eyes. You reach up to brush some of the hair from his warm forehead. “Eddie?”

“Oh, man, what the fuck,” he says, clearly embarrassed. Eddie shakes his head, dragging his hands across his face and looking up to hide the tears bubbling in his eyes. He sniffs, giving you a brave smile that breaks your heart. “I don’t-” He laughs, trying to hide the next sniffle. “That was weird, I don’t know what that was.”

“Eddie,” you repeat gently. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” he chuckles, tears building again suddenly. “Fuck!”

“Come on,” you say, all but dragging him over to the kitchen table and sitting him down on one of the seats, dropping yourself in his lap to let him press his face to your shoulder. His arms are secure around you, his fingers digging into your hip a little desperately. For a few minutes, you stroke his soft hair, taking long, deep breaths that you hope he’ll copy.

“Don’t wanna distract you, if there’s anything you need to do,” Eddie mumbles, his fingers twitching against your skin.

“You need to leave everything in the pot for a while for all the flavours to come together,” you assure, smiling at him happily when he finally looks at you. “And I hope you know it wouldn’t matter anyway.”

“‘m sorry,”

“Don’t be.” You press a sweet kiss to his cheek, making an exaggerated mwah sound just to hear him laugh. Then, because it strikes you that he might need to hear it, “I love you, Eddie.”

“I’m starting to believe that,” he admits, rocking you both a little before running a hand through his hair. “I’ve uh,” Eddie looks up at you, eyes wide and earnest. “Well, I’ve never had anything- Nobody has ever done anything like this before. For me. Not for my Birthday,” he explains. “Not for anything, actually.”

“It’s just a cake,”

“It’s not,” he shakes his head vigorously. “I’ve had Birthday cake, sweetheart, but this. It’s you. You thinking about me for weeks before, planning things I’d like, researching what fucking cake a British guy ate as a kid!” It sounds a little silly when he says it like that, but he continues. “And I’m excited about it! I wanna taste it so bad, for every reason you thought I would, cause you know me and you think about me when I’m not even with you and, yeah,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I just wasn’t expecting it. I knew you’d do something cool, cause you’re you, but uh, it surprised me, I guess.”

“Well, better get used to it, because this is the treatment from now on,” you assure. “Every Birthday for the rest of your life. And you know it’ll improve each year. I’m already planning your 22nd.” You play with the ends of his hair behind his head, watching a real smile grow on his face. “Actually, since we’re on it, do you know if Blackie Lawless does singing telegrams, and if so, approximately how many hours of babysitting will I need to do to afford him?”

Finally, Eddie gives you a real laugh. Not embarrassed, not trying to hide something, but genuine joy. “It’s really not that great, Eddie. I got so excited about the cake, I didn’t get anything at all for us to eat for lunch. And I haven’t planned anything we can do before dinner past opening your presents.”

Eddie grabs your head in his hands, forcing you to lean down so he can smack a kiss to your hair. “It’s my Birthday,” he says, sticking his chin out. “And I want to sit with you on my lap all day.”

“Well, I need to finish the cake first-”

“All day!” He yells, pulling you right back when you try to stand, tucking his arm under your knees to pull your feet from the floor, watching you squirm and giggle.

Bribed with kisses, eventually he lets you off the seat, staying close to you while you weigh, pour and mix. When you’re ready with the tin, he opens the oven for you and closes it with a flourish, pleased he made some kind of contribution. Forty minutes later, the room smells heavenly, even better than it did when he walked in. You make a glaze while it cools, then suddenly you’re running to the window and closing the curtains, though they do very little to stop any light coming in.

“Don’t look, Eddie!” You cry, even as he hears the strike of matches behind him.

You sing to him, presenting his cake burning twenty-one yellow candles. He closes his eyes to keep the tears back, scrunching his face like he’s thinking childishly hard about what to wish for.

When the candles are out, curtains pulled back to let the sunshine in, you sit on Eddie’s lap, holding a plate out for him to serve the first slice. The sound of the golden edge as he cuts through it makes his mouth water. Inside, it’s light yellow and fluffy.

The way you’re looking at him when he takes a bite makes him a little nervous, but the taste of it has him yelling with his mouth full. “Jesus H. Christ, you’re a witch!”

You cackle like one, letting him offer you the next forkful. It’s nicely warm, the crispness of the edge surrounding light sponge steeped in woody sweetness and the warmth of cinnamon.

“I’m a God damn witch.”

Your Dad appears, wilfully ignoring the way you’re sitting on Eddie as he turns the coffee machine on and grabs himself a plate.

“It’s Eddie’s cake, Dad!”

“It’s my kitchen,” he answers, simply, your glare doing nothing to stop him from cutting himself a considerable slice. He hums through a mouthful, slurps his black coffee as he leaves the room. “Happy Birthday, son.”

Eddie slaps his chest, eyes wide with shock, throws his head around in disbelief. “You’re a God damn witch,” he repeats.

You sip milky tea, watching Eddie opening his card, a picture of a bearded collie in a party hat on the front.

“Reminded me of you.” Your giggle morphs into a squeal when he tickles your side in revenge.

Inside, there is a long, rambling message that covers both sides, fitting messily around the pre written Happy Birthday on the right. A list of his best qualities, a favourite memory, why he deserves everything he’s getting today. All of my love, from...xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Fuck,” he says, pressing the fingers of one hand into his tear ducts. “This is what you wanted from the start, isn’t it?”

You bury your face in his soft hair to hide your own wet cheeks.

He’s Eddie, so as much as he appreciates the shiny wrapping paper expertly folded and taped, the sparkly blue ribbon tied in wide bows around each of his gifts, he still rips into each parcel like a wild cat.

A paperback copy of Stephen King’s It, published just last month. Inside, a bookmark woven from red and black card you made with the guidance of a girl you babysit. A Judas Priest patch you’d bought a whole second hand jacket for, picking it off with nail scissors before donating the jacket right back to the thrift store. New white laces for his Reeboks, because both of his shoes have one aglet which has long since rubbed away, and you refuse to wait for him every time he has to tie them back up any longer. A polaroid in a metal frame. The two of you sat in the Hideout, in the same position you are now. A little tipsy, so happy. The picture is dotted with round hearts drawn in black ballpoint ink.

“One more,” you say, hand on his cheek, and you give him a kiss that tastes like honey and milk.

Before you walk to meet his friends, you each re-lace one of his shoes. Eddie doesn’t have his jacket with him, so he safety-pins the patch to his t-shirt in the meantime. He reads you the first chapter of It out loud while you do your makeup, then tucks the bookmark in the right place when it’s time to leave.

The photo, he stared at, his chest sore, while you were busy clearing away wrapping paper.

At the restaurant, he shows off every one of his gifts, relays your whole thought process about his cake in perfect detail to Jeff, Gareth and Matthew. He drinks his first legal beer and shuts down every complaint about his pizza choice because it’s his Birthday and if he likes olive and pineapple then by God he’ll have olive and pineapple.

And you don’t make him blow out candles in front of a whole restaurant, but you do sneak away to ask the waitress oh so politely, please oh please, could you just put these cake slices in the microwave for three minutes twenty seconds and, oh, could we have five scoops of vanilla served on plates, please and thank you?

She does, and you do. Jeff, Gareth and Matthew pile cake and ice cream into their mouths and thank Christ Eddie found you because this cake is fucking ungodly and you’re a witch.

“That’s what I said!” Eddie yells.

“Happy Birthday, man,” Jeff says, later, when they’ve given him their own framed photo. The four of them, Eddie, Jeff and Matthew with guitars hanging from their necks, Gareth holding his drum sticks high in the air.

Eddie is unusually quiet on the walk home, but you know he’s happy, and that’s what matters.

“See you later, babe!”

“Bye, Eddie! Happy Birthday!” You call out into the empty street, closing the door then stifling a gasp and a laugh when Eddie hoists you up into his arms. He tip toes up your stairs, trying to make his footfall sound like yours in any way he can.

The TV plays on, with no sound of your Dad moving from his comfy chair.

Your door closes, he places you on the carpet in front of him and leans down for you, holding your face to kiss you like he’s really wanted to all day. You let him press his tongue to yours, tasting a little of the smoke from the cigarette he’d snuck on on the walk home.

Your hands are flat against his stomach, fingers barely curling into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. When Eddie pulls his lips from you, you run your fingers down the front of his pants, feeling him half hard beneath his zip.

“Baby,” he says, head falling back when you drop to your knees in front of him, hands tugging almost frantically at his belt. You help him kick off his shoes and step away from his pants, feeling your panties starting to get sticky between your legs.

Eddie can’t look at you pressing kisses to his cock through his boxers. Your giggle at his cock twitching in excitement against your lips has him searching blindly for your hair. He threads his fingers through, hips jerking to grind his aching cock against your face. His groan is too loud when your mouth opens, pressing your wet tongue to the damp spot where his tip is leaking against his underwear. When you purse your lips and suck, Eddie’s fingers tug your hair enough to make you whimper.

“Please,” he whispers to the ceiling, loosening his grip and stroking an apology to your scalp.

“Look at me?”

Eddie has to take deep breaths to calm himself down when he drops his gaze to you, your fingers playing with the band of his boxers for a second before you pull them down just enough to get at his cock, tucking the elastic below his heavy balls. “Mmm,” you murmur, going straight for them. You suck one into your mouth, running your tongue along the soft, fuzzy skin. You rest one hand on the back of his leg, keeping yourself and him steady. The other, you lick quickly before returning your mouth to his sack, circling his cock with your slick palm.

You hum happily, your nose brushing the base of his cock while your hand tugs at him. “You have an obsession,” he breathes, bouncing on his feet a little to dip his balls in and out of your loving mouth.

“I love them,” you mumble, mouth full, giving a cheeky little suck to the hanging skin before dragging your curved tongue up the thick vein that runs along the underside of his dick. You purse your lips and kiss the tip softly, hand pulling back the skin to expose the ridges of his pretty pink head. You run him over the lines of your lips, covering your mouth in the drops of cum leaking from his slit. “I love your cock.”

You gather spit in your mouth, letting it out to cover his cock before you take him in, sloppy wet how he likes it best, the sounds of your mouth on him better than his favourite album. You gag a little when his head meets the top of your throat, pulling off with your brows furrowed like you’re annoyed with yourself. You take him back in with renewed vigour, adjusting the angle and bullying the back of your mouth with his cock until you manage to swallow him just right, nose pressing against the dark hair at his crotch, your tongue trying to edge out to get at his balls again.

You can’t quite reach, so Eddie, always the gentleman, takes a hand from your hair and grasps the base of his cock, holding his sack up for you to tickle with the tip of your tongue.

He’s covered in your saliva when you pull away, gasping and spitting more onto his soaked, swollen dick.

“Will you fuck me now?” You ask as Eddie tries to wipe some of the spit from your chin with his thumb. There’s too much, and he ends up just dragging it across the bottom half of your face.. His cock throbs at the pleading look on your messy face.

“Yeah, gonna fuck you right,” he answers when you reach up to let him grasp your arms and drag you up to your feet. He presses his body to yours, pushing you back to your bed as he kicks off his underwear. Eddie takes hold of your face, licking and biting at your swollen lips more than he is kissing you.

He feels you move, hands reaching up to pull at the bows on your shoulders, straps falling away with the top of your dress, leaving your pretty tits on display for him. Eddie’s excited mouth moves to them next, your fingers in his hair as he gives your nipples wide, desperate licks. He runs his thumbs along the undersides, digging the rest of his fingers into the soft flesh at the top. Eddie gives your right nipple a little kiss, a suck, then a cheeky scrape of teeth. You tug his hair, pulling him from you to view your little pout. “They’re sensitive, Eddie.”

“’m sorry, baby,” Eddie murmurs, the apology ruined by both his exaggerated, mocking pout and his fingers continuing to play with your tits even as he says it.

“Need a condom,” you remind him, smiling despite yourself when he stays planted in his spot, lifting your tits and letting go to watch them bounce. “Eddie.”

“Wh- oh, yeah,” he grins, leaning down to quickly suck a little bruise into the inside of your left boob before he turns, searching for the pants he’d kicked away. In the meantime, you tug your dress down, sitting back on your bed and wriggling out of your drenched panties.

Eddie returns to you, flicking his fingers against the wrapped condom happily. He drags his t-shirt off on the way, dropping it carelessly to the floor of your bedroom.

Getting desperate, you lean back against your pillows, and dig the tips of your fingers into your leaking hole. You open your legs to let Eddie stare at your pink slit, dragging your slick up to help you play with your aching clit. The relief has your eyelids fluttering, your button already twitching under your fingers, glad to be touched finally after you’d keyed yourself up with Eddie’s cock in your mouth.

“Please, Eddie,” you whine, watching him shake his head as he pulls his gaze from your displayed cunt.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he answers, ripping open the condom and rolling it down over his blushing cock with his ringed hands, your own fingers rubbing more desperately against your sex. Eddie climbs up on your bed, grabbing your ankles and pulling you away from your cushions to get you on your back below him. “Open that pretty cunt up for me.”

You mewl, bending your legs to press your feet flat to the mattress, legs wide as you reach down. You use two fingers from each hand to pull apart your sticky lips, hips jerking into the air at the caress of the warmth he’s radiating.

Eddie taps your tingling clit with the tip of his cock just to see you throw your head back, petitioning him, “oh, please, please, please,” one more time.

It aches, when he slides himself into you, opening your tight hole up for him, but the stretch feels right, just natural. You moan his name a little too loud, hands flying up to grasp his shoulders, whimpering at Eddie’s harsh, “sh-sh-sh.” One with each good thrust into your gooey cunt, his warm wet breath spreading over your cheeks.

The drag of his cock inside you is heavenly, causing increasingly filthy sounds as your cunt gushes, easing the way for him to use your hole. “Can’t believe it’s your cunt and not your mouth that’s going to get us caught,” Eddie says, stifling a groan. “Desperate little hole, noisiest I’ve ever fucked.”

“Eddie!”

“Shut up,” he breathes, giving you your favourite ringed finger to suck on to keep you quiet. You suck happily, grasping onto his wrist with both hands to hold him there. It keeps you from moaning out, but your girlish little squeaks continue along with the dirty wet sound of your pussy.

Gritting his teeth, Eddie pushes himself inside until his whole cock is settled in your warmth, only giving you little jolts of his hips. It’s quieter, but the tip of him is hitting tortuously against the spot inside that makes your thighs shake.

You look up at him, in love. Eddie’s hair moving with every thrust, the edges around his face a little sweaty. His pale face is pink in the cheeks, as is his neck and the top of his chest, so pretty smattered with dark hair that leads down to his cock. His hair is thick and wiry there, rubbing against your clit enough that it’s matted down against his skin, covered in your slick.

“S’good,” you manage around his finger. You watch his concentrated face, eyes constantly on the move from your face to your bouncing tits to the stunted thrusts of his cock in your pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” he says, finally dragging himself all the way out to the tip before pummelling back inside, hoping that if he just ignores the desperate sound of the springs in your bed, then nobody else will hear it either.

“Gonna cum,” you mumble, your tongue pressed down by his finger. You caress his forearm, his name coming out of your mouth funny but it doesn’t matter. He knows it’s him fucking you right.

“I can feel it,” he grins, your hole tightening in an unsteady rhythm around him. “Your little cunt can’t get enough of my cock, huh?”

Your head falls back, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him where you need him as your hips jolt, pleasure from your clit and deep inside peaking together.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispers at your teeth biting down on his finger, unable to care when he can feel your cunt gushing wet and desperate around his twitching cock.

You hear Eddie’s breath falter above you. He drags his finger from your mouth, grasping your face with one hand and pressing his face to your neck. ”You’re perfect,” he whispers desperately, balls pulling tight. “I’m the luckiest-” He gasps at the sweet roll of your hips under him. “Fuck. I’m the luckiest man alive.”

You stroke the back of his neck as he comes, still twitching yourself, cunt squeezing him as his thrusts slow, slow, stop. Eddie’s weight drops entirely, squishing you into your mattress but you love how close he is, his cock softening inside you. He gives your neck a gentle kiss, then another before he looks up, his brown eyes telling you he’s sated and happy.

He gives you a goofy grin that sends you giggling, only calming when he’s pulling himself out and you sigh, missing him inside a little. You settle back, feeling boneless and tired, as Eddie deals with the condom. When he returns to you, he’s pulled his underwear back on, and he gives you his soft shirt to sleep in.

“Good Birthday?” You ask, when he’s thrown himself down next to you and pulled the covers up to your hips, lying on your sides and staring at each other.

“The best ever,” he answers, both because it’s true and he knew you’d sigh happily and give him a sweet kiss, your soft hands on his cheeks.

“I love you so, so, so much, Eddie!”

“I love you, too,” he says, looking away, still a little shy with it, but it doesn’t matter to you. He means it, and that’s all that matters. You kiss him again, humming your joy against his lips.

Eddie lies back, pulling you into his side, your head resting on his chest, your leg tucked up over his. You run your fingers through the hairs on his torso and let the sound of his heart beat lull you.

Eddie is awake long after you’ve drifted away, reliving every moment since you flung open your door to greet him. He thinks about how proud you were, singing a little off tune, as always, when you presented him with his cake. He’d almost cried, again. Had only just managed to hold them back. He was so concentrated on it, he never made his wish.

Eddie glances at the clock on your bedside table. Still his Birthday. Only just, though, so he hopes it still counts.

You shift a little, your cheek rubbing against his chest. Eddie closes his eyes, takes a breath, and wishes.

This, her, forever, please.

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #please show up in the tags #i just #i just want eddie to have a nice gf that loves him and makes him happy #and also for that gf to be me #my stuff

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desultory-novice · 8 months

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Kirby Characters + Poker

:guilty look: I, uh, completely and unrepentantly stole this ask from @stardustshimmer because I love card games so so very much! (Even though I myself am not all that great at them.)

Anyway, I just really wanted an excuse to write a about the Dream Team + Dream Friends various competitive poker abilities so I did. >.>

Kirby: Knows the basic rules but not much else. Has no poker face and plays absolutely no mind games but is blessed with amazing luck and will pull off hands that don't seem physically possible and as a result, they do decently in spite of everything. Whenever they're playing with Dedede, everyone tends to gather around to watch because without fail Dedede will lose. It's completely uncanny.

Bandanna Waddle Dee: Doesn't like to play mind games or bluff but always maintains a level head so he usually never ends up the biggest loser at the table. When he wins, it's almost always an honest win.

Meta Knight: Ostensibly has a great poker face, given his mask, but it's the rest of his body and posture that gives him away in the end. And while he always maintains his cool in the first half of the game, making wise decisions and analytical judgements about the deck, as the night goes on, he slowly begins giving away every.single.hand.

King Dedede: Competitive games are his thing! His poker face is to be SMUG CONSTANTLY. Great player who runs into problems only because it is monstrously easy to bait him. Also addicted to getting high card combos and will never settle for the "smaller" win. ("High card pair? HA! I bet I can get a straight flush!" :gets dealt nothing:)

Rick, Coo, Kine: These three are exactly your uncles / your dad's friends that you'll always find playing poker after dinner. They're very good on a casual level but generally speaking too relaxed to provide a lasting challenge for the best players. None of them has managed to take a significant lead over the other in all their years of play.

Gooey: No idea how to play. Likes the colorful cards though.

Marx: Insanely good at mind games. To the level that it's not fair. Even when you think you know all his tricks, he STILL manages to get you eating out of his hand. And that stupid, ever-constant GRIN of his! RGH! Bad loser though and if his luck runs out or if you see through his games, he'll be the first to leave the table with a "Tch."

Adeleine: Zero poker face. Smiles or blushes every time she gets a good hand. Gets nervous and bites her lip if she's got a bad hand. Like Bandee but less interested in challenging her friends. Tends to fold. Often the first out of the table unless you're playing with one of the more protective members of her found family, in which case, they will hand her a few wins just so she's not disappointed.

Ribbon: When she's playing alongside Adeleine, provides her with helpful advice and keeps her mood up. Calm, sweet, big sis vibes. If Adeleine ever has to leave the table for a game, she gets surprisingly vicious and Adeleine will come back to find her winnings doubled?!

Dark Meta Knight: Significantly worse poker face than Meta Knight. On the positive side, the fact that he only seems to have one single mood, that being aggression, means that he's got shockingly good immunity to several of the other players' mind games. Pulls out all the stops whenever Meta Knight is playing at the same table.

Daroach: No one can beat him. NO ONE CAN BEAT HIM?! They swear he's cheating. Is he? He must be! But no one's been able to prove it so far. How can he hide cards if he doesn't have any sleeves?! Also, Daroach is forbidden from dealing. His little rat hands aren't allowed to touch the deck anymore. Cards are handed TO him. Will do this infuriating thing where after the cards are dealt, he leaves his face down on the table and just taps the ones he's exchanging.

Magolor: Has a really good poker face - as long as he's somewhere comfortably in the middle. If he's at either extreme, his tells become more obvious. It's the laughter. The hand-wringing. He's a smart player, but he almost always has to rely on mind games because for some reason no one can figure out, he has the worst luck.

Taranza: Always everyone's preference for dealer when playing together. Everyone also loves playing with Taranza because you can always score a win off him as, at least once a night without fail, he will completely bungle a fairly easy play. He's just as confused as everyone else. At least he laughs it off good-naturedly!

Susie: It always takes a little extra effort to convince Susie to play with everyone as she claims to have no interest in the game, but as soon as she sits down at the table, it is on. Acts like the queen of the universe whenever she has even a slight lead on her fellow players. Not as easy to bait as Dedede, but her confidence is her undoing.

Sisters: The inverse of the animal friends, as one of them has always bankrupted the other every weekend and it's usually Zan or Flam with the empty wallet. Fran plays her cards close to her chest and gets very tight-fisted with her bets when she's ahead. Flamberge doesn't have much of a poker face but her bluffs are still hard to decipher because she gets excited about even small hands. On the off chance that Zan is actually winning, all you need to do is casually mention Hyness's name, then peek at her hand while she has her head turned.

#Kirby #Bandanna Waddle Dee #Meta Knight #King Dedede #Animal Friends #Marx Kirby #Adeleine #Ribbon Kirby #Dark Meta Knight #Daroach #Magolor #Taranza #Susie Haltmann #Three Mage Sisters #Dess Ramblings #I'm sorry for the ask steal but I hope you can see...#...this was a bit too long to drop in the comments section #Also it wasn't about who was best but everyone's skill #Also also sorry for the tag but I thought it was appropriate?

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fbfh · 8 months

Text

curiosity is a wonderful thing - ch. 3

wc: 3.1k

pairing: slow burn childhood best friends to lovers ben x reader, audrey x reader

warnings: ben is stressed, audrey is a bad gf, mild claustrophobia/dark spaces/being under ground warning (description of falling down the rabbithole into twonderland but it's fun and you love it so it's not scary lol), mild exposition dumping

summary: ben prepares for the arrival of the Isle kids, and gives audrey the benefit of the doubt a little too much. you have time to sneak away to your favorite place in the world, and the only thing that's missing is ben.

song recs: in a world of my own - kathryn beaumont, welcome to wonderland - scarlett rose, wish you still felt this way - sophie meiers x 90sflav

a/n: i love this fic. i love this series. this started as a comfort daydream and now it's a thing and I hope yall are ready for the next chapter cause it's gonna be good. I hope this brings yall the comfort it brings me <33

tags @yesv01 @magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @strawberry-cake1 @dustyinkpages @kiara7777

After about a week of constant meetings, arrangements, and press conferences, a week of even less sleep and even more coffee than usual - something Ben didn’t know was possible to achieve - it’s finally the day he’s been working tirelessly toward. It’s the day the kids from the Isle are finally on their way to Auradon. He rushes back to Auradon Prep with you at his side after a very stressful, successful press conference. Even though he seems totally composed on the surface, you can tell he’s a bundle of nerves. You walk quickly beside him as he goes over the agenda for their arrival.

“Their rooms are all set up, Fairy Godmother said Jane can help them get settled into their classes - god, what am I forgetting?” Ben rambles, fumbling through all the papers in his bag. His eyes land on his copy of his press conference note cards, and that jogs his memory.

“Right,” He continues as you look up at him, and he knows he has all your attention. “I don’t think I’m going to have time to write a new speech for their arrival…”

He pauses for a moment, seeing if there’s some little pocket of time he can find to make this date extra special for them.

“Ben, you’re more jam packed than a tea cake. You can’t overwork yourself and run into the ground, not when you’re this close.”

Ben considers for a moment, realizing you're right.

"You have a point…" he agrees with a reluctant chuckle. "I'll use the same speech I used for the press conference." He decides. You’re silent for a moment.

“...Alright.”

“What?” Ben asks, able to read your expression like a book.

“Nothing, just-” You hesitate, then give him an earnest look, like you don’t want to hurt his feelings. He chuckles and braces himself, knowing whatever you’re about to say will be a necessary - albeit, hard - truth.

“You don’t think it’s a bit much?” You ask gently. “Too formal, given the circumstances?”

He considers for a moment. He thought it did great at the press conference, but maybe there are a few parts he can revise for the arrival of the Isle kids.

“Uh… yeah. I- I can cast eyes over it, we still have a little over an hour. That should be enough to make any tweaks.” He finishes.

You nod as you follow him into the conference room that he’s turned into a makeshift headquarters for all of his first proclamation business. He sets down his bag and pulls out all his paperwork and his planner. He hears you set your stuff down a few seats away from him and looks up. You’ve been working so hard and helping him out so much with all of this. He couldn’t possibly have accomplished a fraction as much without you. He walks over to you, gathering up your stuff.

“Look bunny, why don’t you, uh,” he starts, leaning over slightly to make sure no one’s about to walk through the doorway. “Why don’t you head down for a while. You have enough time if you go now.”

Your eyes light up at his words. You’ve been keeping your Wonderland visits to a minimum to help Ben and support him as much as you can, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“Really?” You ask softly.

“Yeah, I’ll cover for you.” Ben lets out a soft grunt as you tackle him with a hug. He chuckles lightly, giving your back and shoulders a gentle pat before you pull away a moment later.

“I’ll run my speech by you when you get back-” He begins, then cuts himself off, remembering something. “We got your watch fixed, right?”

You’re glad he remembered, and you fish around in your tea pot bag for a moment before pulling out the weathered bronzy pocket watch. Time works differently in Wonderland, and it’s hard to keep track of. You've tried everything you can think of, and your pocket watch is the only thing that seems to keep you from constantly being late. Granted, you're still late or nearly late a lot, but it’s much better than it used to be.

“Yes,” you nod, showing him the little ticking hands, currently resting at the words ‘on time’. A fresh bubble of excitement pops inside you and you let out an excited giggle, hugging Ben tightly one more time.

“Thank you!” you exclaim in a soft whisper before he sends you off. You run over to the corner of the room to summon a rabbit hole. Ben watches in fascination as the tile floor begins to crumble in front of you, giving way to grassy dirt before continuing to crumble, going down, down, down. It’s a large, vaguely irregular circle about half as wide as your wingspan. You look back at Ben with another silent thank you, before jumping straight down into the hole. As soon as the last of you is out of sight, the tiles rebuild themselves without leaving a trace of you. Ben stares at the spot where you disappeared, feeling vaguely melancholic, but mostly happy that you’re getting to spend time doing what you love. That you’re happy.

“There you are, Bennyboo,” Ben whips his head around at the sound of Audrey’s voice, and he’s relieved she hadn’t shown up sooner. It’s not that sneaking off to Wonderland is a bad thing, but most people tend to discourage you from visiting too often. Wonderland is a timeless domain, like Neverland, and it and all of its inhabitants are much different from those from Auradon - usually referred to as Overland or the Main Land by people from Wonderland and Neverland.

Wonderland runs on pure, neutral chaos and nonsense, which is a very hard concept for people from Overland to grasp. Overland runs on a fundamental structure of good vs. evil, so it’s easy for people to perceive things from Wonderland as good or bad when they’re really just made up of madness. The reason people try to keep Wonderland contained is because you can’t fight nonsense with sense, you can’t fight chaos with logic. If something powerful from Wonderland got into Overland, like the Jabberwocky, or any number of powerful plants, animals, or magic, Auradon would be practically defenseless. That’s one of the reasons that Belle and Adam decided to reach out to your mother, and continue to form such a strong bond with her. If Wonderland nonsense managed to get out into Auradon, it would be uncontrollable chaos, and the only person who could stop it would be your mother - and now, you.

It took Ben a while to understand Wonderland, to understand you. You and your mother are very special cases; Alice was from Overland, but adapted to be part of Wonderland, and Wonderland became a part of her. You, however, were born in Wonderland and raised in Overland. You’ve adapted as well as you can, but you always do much, much better when you can sneak away for regular little trips. Ben has asked to join you before, but it’s too dangerous. People from Overland rarely adapt to Wonderland nonsense and usually end up going mad, which is why your mother is such an asset to the Auradon government - she’s actually able to serve as a liaison between Wonderland and Auradon, and keep an eye on things.

Unfortunately, there are still a lot of stigmas surrounding Wonderlandians, stigmas Ben has grown to resent more and more over the years, but most of it boils down to Wonderlandians being weird, crazy, dumb, and volatile. The more Ben has come to understand you, the more he hates the small comments and little stares directed toward you. Luckily Ben has been able to protect you from a lot of it. People very quickly found out that if they said anything bad about you or Wonderland, it wouldn’t end well for them. He can’t get rid of the stigmas, but he can protect you from them as much as possible.

Audrey flounces over, sitting next to him.

"You are never going to believe what Arabella just told me at cheer practice."

“Uh-”

“She said-”

“Um, Audrey.” Ben finally manages to interrupt. She looks confused about why she’s not the one talking right now.

“I want to hear all about this, I really do,” Ben says, “but we’re going to be greeting the kids transferring from the Isle soon-” Audrey huffs, already disinterested.

“And I wanted your feedback on my speech.” He finishes, handing her the papers.

“Oh, sure. There’s that…” Audrey says, pretending to read it over for a moment. Before she finishes, she sets the papers down on the table, and gives Ben a chipper look.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Bennyboo. You never disappoint.”

She sits on the table in front of him, continuing to tell him all about what Arabella said Herkie did. Ben tries his best to listen, he really does. He just can’t keep his mind off his speech, and he can feel himself beginning to spiral and overthink. He has so much riding on this, he can’t afford for his speech to be fine, he can’t afford for anything about this whole ordeal to be fine. Her words keep echoing in his mind, you never disappoint, Bennyboo. He knows she meant it to be supportive, but he feels like all the pressure he’s been convincing himself he can handle is just reinforced. He was hoping to get some real feedback from Audrey, maybe a little encouragement, but-

He stops himself before the thought can go any further. Audrey is his girlfriend, and Ben should be able to trust her word. You would never lie to him about something this important, so he chooses to trust that Audrey wouldn’t either. He tries to shut up the worries clouding his mind and tries to pay attention to what Audrey is saying. She’s probably just trying to distract him from worrying, give him something else to think about for a while. You can always tell when he’s overthinking, so Audrey is probably trying to show him that she cares, that there’s nothing to worry about. That if she’s talking about something like cheer team gossip at a time like this, when Ben is getting ready for one of the most important days of his life, then everything must be under control. Besides, if he needs to he can look his speech over by himself after Audrey leaves. He might have time to. It will all be fine.

The moment you let yourself fall into the dark rabbit hole, your stomach flips as you begin free falling through the darkness. A little dirt sprinkles down on your head from where it closes up above you, and you narrowly manage to avoid some roots snagging in your hair. After a few moments, your descent slows. You spin slowly as you glide down, and in the pitch black darkness, you can feel your internal gyroscope going crazy. You breathe in the heavy, earthy air, and for a few moments, you don't know which way is up or down. You have absolutely no sense of direction for those few beautiful moments, and you don't want to. Soon, your descent speeds up again, and you find yourself tumbling through tree branches, eventually landing on a rough surface in the dark.

“It should be here somewhere…” you mutter, feeling around for a doorknob. After a moment you feel it, cool aged metal in your hand. You twist it, revealing a beam of light through a doorway. It’s going to be a close call, but you think you’ll just be able to fit. You manage to squeeze through the entrance, exiting out of the door - which is situated in a large tree trunk, and into Wonderland. You crawl forward, taking it all in. You take in a deep breath of the still, earthy, floral air. It’s heavy in your lungs, like a deep dream. You fully exit, and the door slowly closes behind you.

The world is quiet.

There’s an almost suffocating stillness in the atmosphere of Wonderland, one that would be uncanny and unnerving to you if it weren’t already so deeply comforting. It’s the same grounding sense of peace and stillness you get when you’re young and walk carefully through your dark house at night in search of a cold glass of water. There’s that feeling in Wonderland, everyone is asleep except for me. I ought to be asleep too, I best not wake them. The world around you is still, still, still. It’s as still as a stone, or a lake made of glass. You soak up the familiar surroundings, and you feel like you’re finally visiting an old friend.

In spite of the pitch black sky, which is barely visible through the treetops, you can see what’s around you just fine. But if you look too far, there’s a darkness off the beaten path, one that stays just at the edges of your sight no matter where you go. It always looks to you like those hazy dark shadows around the edges of old photographs. You look down at the beaten path - this one being made of black and white irregularly shaped checkerboard tiles nestled right into the dirt. They twist and turn, splitting out and reconverging haphazardly into the darkness. They’re a bit worn and dirty, but you suppose any outdoor tiles would get that way eventually.

You follow it back the way you came, spinning around as you do, and notice the way it splinters into little shards, cracking and fragmenting into a mosaic of sorts before petering out at the base of the tree, with grass and dirt poking up in between. You feel yourself begin to settle, at home with the lack of time flowing around you, and you take in another breath. Your nose and lungs are kissed gently with the smell of damp, freshly turned earth, plant life, and that unmoving sort of smell that shows up after it rains, but still before any birds and animals come out from their hiding. The type of smell when flowers are wet, and have not yet opened themselves back up.

Reaching into your trusty teapot bag, you fish around in there until you find your camera. It’s old, very old, and completely obsolete ever since the boom of technology that appeared around the time you and Ben were born, but you love it nonetheless. A year or two before you and Ben - and most of the other kids your age - were born, Auradon successfully made an alliance with Atlantis. They traded their protection of Atlantis and a promise to leave them alone, in exchange for a little bit of their technology and power sources. Adam also promised to make sure Rourke never saw the light of day again, a promise Queen Kida was happy to accept. The trade led to light speed innovations based in Atlantean tech; smart phones, computers, video games, and countless other innovations that brought Auradon into its new age. Flash forward to now, Atlantis is the tech capital of the world, and magic is obsolete. Your camera can’t give directions or tell time or backup to cloud storage, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You snap some pictures of the tiles before you begin exploring. You never know what entrance to Wonderland you’ll fall through, and you love documenting each one. You walk carefully through the forest of dense trees, looking at flocks of haughty looking dodo birds and peonies that gossip to each other, whispering with a laugh as you pass them by. Soon you stumble into something very interesting. You thought it was a cluster of blue bushes, but were surprised to find out they’re really birds. The bird bushes (or maybe bush birds) startle at your presence, squawking and leaving feathers (leaves?) in their wake before they fly off.

You manage to get a few pictures of them too, and you’re excited to show Ben. You’ve tried taking pictures with your phone before, but Wonderland makes technology… unreliable at best. Plus, there’s no service down here anyway. That’s why you took to journaling, drawing pictures and taking photos and writing down everything you see. This way you can share it with Ben, this way it’s almost like he’s here in your favorite place with you.

You follow the blue speckled bush birds - as you’d dubbed them - until you lose track of them. It’s no matter though, since you soon hear some lovely singing coming from under a sparkling berry bush growing fruit shaped like bells. You crouch down, lifting up the leaves, and find a choir of inchworms practicing their harmonies. The leader looks up at you in a huff.

“I’m terribly sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt.” You say. He huffs, and turns back to his choir, conducting with a little twig. You decide to sit and listen for a while as they rehearse under the coverage of glistening pink leaves. You find some oversized, brightly colored mushrooms growing nearby, and sit down on a comfortable one. You pull a teacup out of your bag, trying to decide which tea to drink while you watch the inchworms and listen to their masterpiece slowly come together.

You zip the lid closed, and pour the spout to the cup, settling on some raspberry tea. With honey, you think, and lemon. You smile as a lemon wedge falls from the spout, plopping gently into your cup. You take a sip, and it’s perfectly brewed as ever. You go through several cups of tea, growing more and more invested in the drama between the inchworms. One is insisting on taking the high harmony, even though it’s obviously out of his range. You’re half way through… one of your cups of tea, you lost count rather quickly. By now the inchworms have perfected their harmonies for the chorus, and the first verse. Your attention is ripped away from the inchworms when your bag starts ringing. You open it up, digging out your pocket watch. The bronze hands have spun all the way past most of the little notches, and you nearly drop your tea when you see where they are. Your eyes follow the hands, which are nearly pointing to the word Late! in fancy script.

“Shit!”

#curiosity is a wonderful thing #ben florian #ben florian x reader #daughter of alice!reader #descendants #descendants x reader #OOF #ya bitch is going through it #but it okay #it ony a movie #pls tell me smwn gets that reference #i say it ony a movie about 30 times a day #oh and i got the 'i thlammed my penith in the car door' song stuck in my head again #i sang it for i think 15 is minutes straight at the end of my shift at work today #silently ofc

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kfinalgirls · 7 months

Text

Scream ༊*·˚ Part 2

༊*·˚Admin Lulu Presents~ ༊*·˚Pairing: Choi San x Lulu (OC) 1st pov x Park Seonghwa ༊*·˚Genre/Trope/Au: smut, horror, established relationship, scream au, college au ༊*·˚Rating: R rated, +18 MDNI ༊*·˚Warnings: mentions blood, gore, death, knives, violence (smut will be included in future chapters), drinking, party going, creep! seonghwa, gaslighting ༊*·˚Kinks: suggestive talk ༊*·˚Word Count: 1,913 ༊*·˚Credits to @cafekitsune for the divider ༊*·˚Synopsis: When a killer begins to target students of my college--and also starts calling me to brag about it--San is there to comfort me. But throw in his creepy best friend and my world begins to crumble around me ༊*·˚Part One ||| All Posts || Part Three

“San, no, I am not going to some stupid party!”

San and I were having a not-so-great argument. He wanted to go out, I wanted to stay in. Usually I could convince him with a flash of my underwear that it was in his best interest to stay in but tonight he was being stubborn for some reason.

“Come on, Lulu!” He pleaded, “I promised Seonghwa we would go!”

I sent him a look of disgust, “I’m especially not going because of your weird best friend.”

“He’s not weird!” San whined, “He’s just got his head in the clouds a lot. I promise, he’s harmless.”

Harmless my ass. I don’t know how many times I caught Seonghwa staring at me and even when I caught him he never stopped like normal people do. He always seemed to loom at any function that San and I went to. Seonghwa got so close to me sometimes I could hear his breathing. He really really creeped me out but he was San’s best friend and I had to endure it, I guess.

“Please, I don’t want to go. I don’t care what you promised!” I begged. If I had to pull out the big cards, I would. I went on my knees and grabbed a fistful of his pants, looking up at him, “I’ll make it worth your while if we don’t go.”

San looked so good. His hair was soft and he had just a t-shirt and a pastel green cardigan but damn did his shoulders fill out everything so nicely. San cursed under his breath and cupped the side of my face with one hand. “God, what I wouldn’t do for you to suck my dick right now.” He shook his head and steeled himself. “No, you can’t dissuade me. Seonghwa is throwing this party and he was very adamant that we both be there. We have to. Besides, you’ve been jittery since movie night and I want to get you out of the apartment.”

Guess I had to take another approach. “There’s a killer out there, San!”

San rolled his eyes at me, “Then we should go to the party. The more people there the less likely we’re going to get murdered.”

“Fine,” I said stiffly, getting up from being on my knees, “I’m not wearing this skirt though. Seonghwa gets weird when I wear skirts around him.”

San pffted at me. “Who wouldn’t get weird when you wear skirts? I get a chubby just watching it swish on the back of your thighs.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and moved into the bedroom. I ditched my skirt and looked for some comfortable pants. “You’re my boyfriend. You’re allowed to get a chubby when you look at me. I want you to get a chubby when you look at me. I don’t want Seonghwa imagining getting his fingers up my skirts!” I shuddered at the thought.

“But Babe!” San appeared at the doorway. “You can’t blame him. You’re hot. Even Wooyoung admitted once to--”

I threw my hand up and stopped whatever San was going to say. “Please stop, I don’t want to hear the end of that sentence.”

I finished shimmying on the black pants I chose to wear and checked my make up in the mirror. “We will stay for exactly two hours and you better be getting me refills when I finish my drinks,” I said to San, looking at him through the mirror.

San sent me a sunny smile that made his eyes disappear. He was looking all happy-go-lucky just to piss me off, “Of course, Babe.”

I walked to the doorway, looked my boyfriend up and down and said, “I am not happy with you right now.”

“Does this mean you won’t be giving me a bj on the drive there or--OW!”

There were plenty of cars littering the lawn of Seonghwa’s huge house. San had informed me that Seonghwa always had the place to himself and that was usually why he threw parties. Who knew where his parents were--Dubai or did he say Dublin? Either way, the party was well on its way by the time San and I got there.

“I’ll go get us drinks,” San said as he saw Wooyoung in the kitchen from the entranceway.

“Don’t you dare--” And he was gone.

I folded my arms and found a corner to sulk in. I couldn't even bring San upstairs to fool around. Some classmate had told me Seonghwa’s parents had cameras EVERYWHERE. I did not need Seonghwa watching me and San--I shuddered. I did not want to go down that train of thought.

But then I heard heavy breathing and, “You’re here.”

I whirled around and narrowed my eyes down at Seonghwa. “Regrettably,” I said with my lips pursed to the side.

Except… Why did Seonghwa look so good? I mean, it’s not like he wasn’t attractive. I had heard every girl on campus sigh over Park Seonghwa. They thought he was secretive and mysterious and his allure was a legend around the school. But his creepy factor always nulled that out for me. But tonight, Seonghwa was in a long jacket, jeans ripped at the knees and a turtleneck. He looked… sophisticated? Definitely a look I’d go for. I shook my head. No, Lulu, you’ve got to stop that.

Seonghwa had a shy, crooked smile on his face now. Shit. “Something wrong?”

I scoffed at him, “Yes, you’re entirely too close to me.”

Seonghwa chuckled under his breath. “Looks like San got distracted with your drinks. Perhaps I can keep you company instead?”

I looked over my shoulder and there was my boyfriend, playing a fucking drinking game with Wooyoung. That bitch. I turned back to Seonghwa and scoffed at him, “I don’t fucking think so.”

Seonghwa shrugged his shoulders, “San told me you got some creepy phone call? I didn’t think you wanted to be alone.”

I winced. San, must you tell your best friend everything? “I-I’m fine.” The stutter in my voice said otherwise. Fuck.

Seonghwa’s smile became a grin. I took a step back as he took a step forward. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. I heard the news say that it seems the killers are targeting students that are in the bottom half of the dean’s list. Aren’t you in the upper half?”

I frowned at Seonghwa. “What do you mean killers? There’s more than one?”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened and then he shrugged again. “That’s their theory, anyways.”

I opened my mouth to ask more when my phone went off. That better be Choi San telling me he’s got my drink or I swear to God…

{10:42pm} Private Number: Having fun?

My mouth went dry and my palms started to sweat. I hadn't received a message from the creepy caller since that day in the Geology labs. If I had to guess, I would have said it was Seonghwa, but he was in front of me right now. So who the fuck was calling me and texting me?

{10:43pm} Private Number: I have another gift for you

I couldn't help but whimper. Did this mean the killer was going to kill again?

{10:44pm} Private Number: Special delivery! {10:44pm} Private Number: 3 {10:44pm} Private Number: 2 {10:44pm} Private Number: 1

I let out a terrified shriek as the lights went out. The partygoers groaned at the inconvenience but my heart was beating out of my chest. I felt a presence at my front and reached out to hit whatever--or whoever--was in front of me. They caught my hand and I struggled a bit. I was about to raise my other hand when…

“Stop, it’s just me,” Seonghwa said softly, “I’ve got you. No one is going to hurt you.”

Like that made me feel any better. “Let go of me,” I hissed, yanking on my arm.

Instead, Seonghwa pulled me closer, trapping me against his chest. “I can protect you,” He crooned, “You don’t have to be scared.” He must have been able to hear my heart going crazy because he said, “It’s like you have a hummingbird trapped in your chest.”

There was a yell and then a loud snap and I jumped. I couldn't see anything and all I could think about were the texts I had just received. “L-let go of me, Seonghwa, please,” I whined, “You’re scaring me.”

Seonghwa leaned forward to speak into my ear, “Are you scared of me or of the situation?” He smoothed my hand over his chest and I could feel his heart beating steadily--not erratic like my own. “Just count my heartbeats and the lights will be back on soon enough.”

Oddly enough, I did just that. I felt his heart beat against my hand and it calmed me. Somehow, just knowing that someone else was there, someone who wasn’t terrified, soothed me. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“Anything for you,” Seonghwa said in a low voice and it made me… feel things I definitely did not want to feel.

The lights came back on and everyone cheered. And then someone screamed.

I buried my head into Seonghwa’s chest, I couldn't help it. I screwed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see what my gift was. Tears were in my eyes and I could feel bilge burning the back of my throat. I just wanted this to be over, I just wanted this to stop.

Seonghwa brought his hand to my head and started to pat it. “There there, Lulu. It’ll all be over soon.”

“Lulu!” San shouted my name and I jumped out of Seonghwa’s grasp.

I ran towards his voice and then stopped in my tracks. Hanging from the second floor was that stupid bitch that always flirted with San at the parties. I despised her, and yeah, I probably wished her dead a few times when I was fuming but this! Her tongue hung out obscenely and there was the word WHORE carved out on her chest. Jesus!

“Don’t look, don’t look,” San said to me softly, gathering me up in his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“San!” I cried out and then started to sob into his arms. “I was so scared. You said the killer wouldn’t get us here. What if--”

San reassured me, rubbing his nose against the crown of my hair. “Don’t do that to yourself. The killer wouldn’t harm a hair on my head. I’m not even on the Dean’s list, right? That’s what the news is saying anyways.”

I leaned back to look into San’s eyes. “Weird. Seonghwa just said the same fucking thing.”

San grinned, “Oh, talking to Seonghwa now, are we? What happened to ‘he gives me the creeps’?”

“Do not start with me, Choi San,” I scolded him, “You’re the one that abandoned me as soon as we got into this stupid party and now--” I choked up.

I jumped when a hand landed on my back but I let out some tension when I heard Seonghwa’s voice. “I guess I should call the police. This is a pretty lame party.”

We drove back to my apartment in silence, but there was something that I couldn't stop mulling over. Why… why had both San and Seonghwa made it their top priority to make sure I was okay and… why hadn't they been more spooked about the murder that happened?!

༊*·˚Part One ||| All Posts ||| Part Three

#kpop horror #ateez horror #choi san horror #ateez smut #choi san smut #ateez scenarios #choi san scenarios #Admin Lulu Presents #Scream: Sanhwa edition #atz choi san scenario #atz san scenario #ateez choi san scenario #ateez dark scenario #choi san dark scenario

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bteezxyewriter12 · 2 years

Text

Love Motel/ 2

Pairing- Changkyun x Named Reader

Word count- 5.3k

Includes- Oral, fingering, pussy eating, face fucking, hair pulling, marking, sex from behind, tummy bulge, multiple orgasms

Tag list- @90s-belladonna @mingtina

@direitobulando @chansbabydoll

@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

Series Masterlist

J POV

Getting out of the car, I follow him inside the motel

He waves to the receptionist, grabbing a key card that's on the desk

"Come here a lot?", I ask

"No. Why?"

"Well uh she had the key card out for you already. You didn't even pick a room or anything"

"I told you my friend owns this place. The top room is his best room and he reserves it for friends. I know where it is and I know what the card for the room looks like. It was already out so clearly he called and told her someone was coming"

"Oh", I say, "Have you been here before then?"

"A few times when I was younger. Not any time recently"

So does that mean he doesn't have sex or he just brings the girls to his place?

I do know that I shouldn't ask him that

It's too personal and this is not a personal thing we have going on

We get in an elevator and he presses the button for the 8th floor

Silence ensues as the elevator goes up

For me it's awkward but he looks like it doesn't bother him at all

Maybe this isn't such a good idea

I'm contemplating on backing out when the elevator dings and the door opens

I stand there for a second then decide, once again fuck it and I follow him out

There's only one door at the end of the hall

He takes my hand, surprising me and leads me to the room

He flashes the key card at the lock, it turns green and he opens the door

I walk in, looking around the room as he turns the light on

I'm surprised at how clean the room looks

Spotless

It looks like a normal motel room with a desk and chair in the corner, a couch by the window, a tv on the wall opposite the bed

And the bed?

Fucking huge

Night stands with lamps on either side

A huge closet across from the windows by the door

Another door is open by the closet and I assume it's the bathroom

This is a big room

Must be expensive

"Hey", he says, taking my hand and turning me around to him, looking up at him

Jesus he's tall

"I just wanted to tell you, I'm clean. I get tested regularly. I don't have anything"

Oh shit

I didn't even think about that

"When was the last time?", I ask

"Three weeks ago"

"You haven't slept with someone in three weeks?"

I find that hard to believe since he looks like a fucking god

He snorts, "No Joanne. I'm not a kid anymore. I don't just fuck anyone. I'm picky"

Oh shit, he's picky and he picked me?

Over Milena and Saeyan?

That blows my mind

And I have no clue what to say to it so I just ignore it

"I'm clean too. I uh...was tested after my boyfriend and I broke up. That was like seven months ago"

"And you haven't had sex in seven months?", he gapes

"I'm extremely picky", I answer

He comes closer to me, smiling, "Guess that means I'm extremely lucky"

I blush looking down, "Guess so. But I haven't slept with a mob boss before"

He takes my hand, the gesture making me look at him

"Don't be scared", he says, "I won't hurt you"

I am nervous but I nod anyway

I'm not sure I believe him

He lies for a living so he could be lying to me

But when I look into his eyes, there's a sort of softness there

And honesty

Maybe he is telling the truth

He leans down to me, softly pressing his lips to mine

The second his lips touch mine stars blast in my vision

Holy shit

His mouth moves against mine, his tongue licking my lip

Opening my mouth, I let him in, pressing my tongue against his

Jesus Christ he's an amazing kisser

I'm actually shocked he's kissing me

I though he only wanted sex

I thought he'd take my clothes off, throw me on the bed and do whatever he wanted

He seems like the rough, get right to it type

I should stop thinking

I like kissing him and I don't want to ruin anything

Pushing all thoughts out of my head, I continue to kiss him, focusing on his full soft lips against mine, his wet tongue against mine

His arms move around my body, pulling me closer to him and I go willingly, sliding my hands up his chest, wrapping around his neck

His hands move under my shirt, chills running up my back when his fingers touch my hot skin

He presses one hand against my back, his other trailing up my right side making my skin tremble

It feels so good

God how is his touch causing me to feel this way?

None of my boyfriend's touches ever felt this way, never made me feel this way, never made my body react this way

But his, a stranger, does

Suddenly he pulls away from me, my shirt flying over my body

He reaches around and undoes my bra, tossing it behind him

His hands cup my cheek, pulling back to his lips for another kiss

As I kiss him, I undo the buttons of his suit jacket and push it off him

He lets it drop, his hands untying my sweatpants strings

He pulls everything, including my panties down

Kicking my sneakers off, I get out of every piece of clothing, leaving myself completely naked

He maneuvers me around, pushing me back until the back of my knees hit the bed

He pushes me back all the way, my back hitting the bed

He stands, his eyes roaming all over my body

I feel so exposed and a little shy but I keep my hands at my sides

"Fuck, you're even better than I imagined"

Wait...he imagined me?

Me?

Why?

I'm nothing special

Hell Milena and Saeyan are better looking than me

"Close your mouth", he smirks

I snap it shut, not even knowing it was open

His hands touch me, starting from my thighs

I watch the dragon and tiger tattoos on his hands move as he moves his fingers and Jesus it's hot

I shiver when his hands move on my stomach, slowly gliding up and wrapping around my breasts

He squeezes them a few times, his eyes on my body

"You're so hot"

I just raise my eyebrows

He's very complimentative and I like it

His eyes move to my arms, his hands letting go of my breasts to instead run along my arms

"I didn't know you had so many tattoos", he says

I don't know what to say

I wore tshirts to the bar so he had to see some of them

The ones on my lower arms

"Dinosaurs?", he asks

"Yeah", I answer, "I like dinosaurs"

"You a nerd?"

I look at him about to tell him off when I see him smirking teasingly

"I like nerds", he says

"Then I'm a nerd", I answer, smirking back

"Good"

His lips are on mine again, kissing me deeply

I fall into his kiss, letting him take over me

His hands roam my body for a little but then go back to my boobs

He is a guy after all and guys like boobs

He squeezes softly, his thumbs running over my nipples, sending pleasure right down to my pussy, making me more wet than I already am

Moving his lips to my neck, he presses kisses to my skin and I moan softly

"Fuck that was pretty. Do it again"

He sucks on my skin hard and I know he's gonna leave a hickey

I don't really care

Letting go of my skin, his tongue rolls over the spot he sucked on, then moves to a new spot

One of his hands moves down, his fingers running between my legs

"Ooo", I moan, pleasure increasing

"Fuck yes, let me hear you", he demands, his fingers moving to my clit and rubbing in circles, sending my body into so much pleasure

Oh my god

I haven't felt pleasure in so long and god I missed it

His lips keep kissing and sucking me, leaving his marks all over me, down between my breasts

As he's sucking on my stomach, his fingers slide inside me and I gasp, immediately throbbing on his fingers

"Fuck so tight. So little", he groans against my skin, his hand not inside me digging into my thigh

He moves his fingers back and forth and fuck me it feels so amazing, I drench his hand

"My god you're so fucking wet. God does your cunt get this wet every time?"

No actually, I don't get this wet

Maybe it's because I haven't had sex or done anything in months

Or maybe it's because he knows what he's doing, his fingers sliding and pumping the right way, spreading them slightly while inside, stretching me so well

"No...I don't get this wet", I answer, closing my eyes against the pleasure

"Oh, is this all for me then?"

I lift my head, looking at him and seeing his wide cocky grin

Even with that grin, he's so fucking hot

It's not fair

"Hmm?", he prods, his fingers rubbing my spot, pleasure blinding me as I moan loudly

He smirks, keeping his fingers inside, rubbing that spot, "Answer me"

"Yes, all for you", I agree, laying my head back down

"Feels good baby?"

That's an understatement

"Yes fuck yes", I cry

"This your spot"

"Yes", I whine

"I'll remember where it is", he assures me

I find that a strange thing to say

Why would he remember?

Why does he care?

I can't worry about it now because my mind goes blank when his tongue licks my clit

"Oh god", I moan as his tongue keeps rolling over my clit, faster and faster each time, his fingers not stopping, hitting my spot every time

The pleasure is astounding and I'm gonna cum any second

Fucking seriously, nothing has ever felt as good as his fingers and tongue

He licks with the tip of his tongue and that's it

"Fuck!", I cry, gripping the comforter hard as my body arches, pleasure taking over me as I cum

His doesn't stop any movements, not his fingers, not his tongue as I orgasm, instead helping me through it

Jesus Christ it's the best orgasm I ever had

"Oh fuck this cunt is gonna feel so good coming around my cock", he murmurs

God damn

I want to cum all over his cock too

He's not the only one dying to feel it

When my orgasm is over, I breath hard trying to catch my breath

I feel his fingers leave my pussy, his voice saying, "Oh damn"

I lift my head, watching him look at his fingers, spreading them apart, my cum all over

"Fucking hell, your cum is so fucking creamy. Fuck"

Has no other girl he's been with cum this way?

He keeps looking at his fingers, then suddenly puts them in his mouth, sucking on them

My mouth drops open seeing this

"Oh fuck", he moans, "You taste so good. Fuck"

"Oh my god", I whisper

He looks at me, his eyebrow raised, "You haven't had anyone tell you your cum tastes good?"

I shake my head

Nope, can't say that I have

"Well that's a damn shame", he says so matter of fact, "You may be the best thing I ever tasted"

I'm so fucking surprised he's saying this

I don't think this is something you say to a one night stand

"I don't know yet though. I gotta taste more"

"More?"

"Oh yeah. More", he smirks

Before I can say anything, his mouth is on my clit, sucking at me hard

"Oh my fuck", I gape, watching his mouth move on me

God he's still so pretty, so hot even with his face in my pussy

How?

I don't know

Closing my eyes and laying down, I concentrate on feeling his mouth suck, his tongue on my clit too, moving at the same time

His arms move under my thighs, keeping them open while his mouth pleasures me

"Mmm fuck baby, your clit is so good. Pulsing in my mouth so fucking fast. Love it"

"Fuck", I moan

Well I'm glad he loves it?

Fuck I don't know, my mind can't think right now

I'm in so much pleasure, I don't even realize that my hand is moving into his hair

It's only when he grunts that I realize I'm pulling on the strands

Hard

Oh shit

I immediately pull my hand away, putting it back on the bed

Without stopping, he grabs my hand and puts it back in his hair

"Pull all you want baby. I like it"

Uh ....ok

"Are...you ssss...sure?", I stammer, the bliss making it hard to talk

"Yes baby. Pull"

I grip his hair hard, twisting my hand in it, just as he sucks harder

"Oh my god! Oh my god!", I cry, falling into another orgasm, his pretty mouth not stopping

The pleasure is unreal and I don't get a break because as soon as it's over, his tongue is licking down, immediately going right into my cunt

"Fuck!", I yell, clenching on his tongue

"Mmm", he moans, pulling his tongue out

He licks around my slit, then up between my lips, swirling around

He is so fucking good at oral, it's insane

After playing with my cunt for a little, his tongue goes back inside, making me scream

"Oh so you wanna be tongue fucked huh? I can do that", he murmurs, turning me on so much

His tongue goes in again, then slides out then dips back in

Over and over, feeling out of this world

He moves my legs on his shoulders and as he fucks me with his tongue I can't help but move my hips, snapping them into his face

"Such a good girl", he moans, "Fucking my mouth. Keep going baby"

I don't think, I just do and I keep going, his tongue entering me over and over

I throb as much as I can around his tongue, pulling his hair as hard as I can

He's bringing me so close, every thrust of his tongue so good

"Please don't stop", I gasp, right there

His tongue fucks in again and I lose it

I shout in pleasure as he shoves his tongue in as far as he can, making me cum all over it, swallowing over and over

Oh my god, it's so good, so fucking good, I can't, fuck

My whole body seizes and I grip his hair, holding his face against my pussy until I finish and come back to my senses

I realize I'm keeping him against me and I let go of him immediately, so embarrassed

He doesn't say anything, just licks me a few more times, kisses my pussy then stands up

"Ready for my cock now?"

I nod, so ready

He flips my over easily, moving me on my hands and knees

I hear his belt opening, then hitting the floor

I'm so fucking excited

I feel him grip my hip, the head of his cock rubbing along my pussy

"Please", I beg, "Go inside"

"I am baby. Don't worry. I've wanted to fuck this hole for a long time. I'm definitely going in"

Everytime he says something about wanting me, I'm in such disbelief

It just doesn't make sense that someone like him, someone that looks like him wants me

He stops my thinking when his head enters me

Jesus it feels big

He sinks into me slowly, forcing me to open around him

Christ he is huge

He has to push in hard, almost like he doesn't fit inside me

"Oh fuck, you are tight", he moans, "So very tight. Almost like you've never been fucked before"

Yeah well not by a monster cock like his

I feel every single inch of his length as he moves in, giving me so much pleasure already

He stops moving, his cock filling me up, a tight fit with no extra room, his head snugly against my spot

"Good god you feel so good", he moans, his hands rubbing my ass

"You too", I moan, "Are...are you all in?"

"No. I'm too big. I'm going to hu-"

"Go all in", I cut him off

I need to feel his whole cock

I want his whole cock

"Joanne"

"All in Changkyun", I demand, "I can take you. You won't hurt me"

I feel him hesitating and I'm not having it

"Please, I want to feel all of you"

"Fuck", he groans, moving inside more

"Oh god", I whimper, shivering, "All of you?"

"Yeah", he gasps

I reach my hand in between my legs, to my hole, feeling for his cock

My hand touches his pelvis and nothing else

He's all in

"Told you", he groans, gripping my hips hard, "I need to move. I need to fuck you. Please"

"Yes", I answer

I feel his cock leave, the drag so fucking blissful

He thrusts hard into me, his cock barreling in, stretching me around him, his head hitting my spot

"Yes fuck", we both cry as he moves in and out faster and faster with every thrust

"Oh my god, so fucking tight", he moans, "So wet. So warm. Fuck best pussy I've ever been in"

My mind is reeling from his words as his cock works my pussy and my body so fucking amazingly

I grip the comforter hard, his thrusts so hard, my body keeps inching up the bed and he keeps bringing me back to him at the edge of the bed

Goddamn, Milena was right

I need to get laid

And Changkyun is the perfect one to do it

Stars blast in my vision from the pounding I'm getting and I'm loving every second

"You're taking me so good baby. Fuck I love watching that hole swallow my cock, leaving me soaked and sucking me back in", he compliments, "So fucking pretty"

I can't stop moaning like a slut, crying out for more, for him to go faster

Harder

"Fuck baby, you like being fucked open?"

"Yes yes. I love it. Yes", I cry

His hand moves around me and I expect him to touch my clit but as he's moving his hand, it stops against my stomach

"Oh shit", he whimpers, his hand pressing against my stomach as he continues to fuck me senseless

"Give me your hand", he says

I'm confused, but I move one of my hands back

He takes it and presses my hand against my lower stomach

"Just feel", he tells me and I'm confused

He keeps moving and I feel my stomach bulging then going back to normal, again and again

"You feel that baby girl?"

"Yeah", I answer, still confused

"That's my cock fucking you"

Wait what?

"Huh"

"You are so small baby and my cock is so big that when I fuck you, you can feel my cock in your stomach"

Holy shit

I've never experienced this before

But then again I've never taken a cock as big as his feels

I keep my hand against my stomach, feeling his cock move inside me and getting more and more horny

"You like feeling that?"

"Yes, god. Shit. No one has ever fucked me as deep as you"

"And how does it feel?", he asks

"So good", I moan

"Good enough to cum?"

I nod, "Yes fuck yes. Please. Make me cum"

"Gladly baby"

He increases his pace, hitting me so hard, rubbing my spot, his cock amazing

Squeezing the comforter, I feel it coming

I'm so excited

I've never orgasmed from just sex alone but I know, I know he's going to be able to give me one

He barrels inside again and I scream, thrown headfirst into an incredible orgasm

"Changkyun!", I scream, the ecstasy so much it's blinding me

He shoves his whole cock inside, letting me cum on him, my pussy clenching and throbbing on him so much

"Oh fuck", he yells, "Oh fuck. So good. Fuck, your cunt baby, fuck so fucking good"

Fuck, he's getting pleasure from me coming too

That's amazing

"Jesus, so tight. God you're creaming my cock so fucking much. So pretty", he moans

When I finish, I'm so tired, breathing so hard

"Again", he demands, pounding my cunt

"Yes fuck, yes", I cry

I can't believe I want more

But he's just making me feel so good

So fucking amazing

And I was to make him feel the same

Not just good

Amazing

I start moving, sliding up and down his cock, bottoming him out with every move

"Oh yes baby, fuck, don't stop"

"Stop moving", I tell him, "I wanna give it to you"

"Shit"

"I wanna make you cum"

"You're going to baby girl. God just looking at you, feeling you...fuck me, it's so fucking good", he groans

I move faster on his cock, spreading my legs wider, so I can fuck him harder while also fucking my spot at the same time

The sound of skin hitting together sounds in the room among our moans as my ass hits his thighs over and over

I gonna cum already and it has never been this quick before

It's because his cock is perfect for me

Going back again, my brain shuts off as I orgasm, screaming his name, fluttering around his thick length

"Changkyun!", I cry, still moving, fucking myself through the pleasure as I bring him closer

"Yeah fuck...Joanne...yes", he cries, gripping my hips and sheathing his cock inside me, holding me on him, his cock throbbing and spurting hot cum

"Oh fuck", I whimper, loving the feeling of being filled up by him

I feel his cum leaking out around us, down my thighs

I love that feeling

He pulls out and I move, forward laying down on bed to breath for a minute

"Oh god", I hear him say as the bed dips, "That was...Jesus Christ"

I know

I feel the same

"Amazing?", I ask

"So much more than that", he answers, "Was it like that for you too?"

"Oh yeah", I tell him, "The best I've ever had"

Why lie?

It won't do any good and I don't feel like lying

"Really?"

"Yup", I answer

"It was the best I ever had too"

I snort, "Oh c'mon. You don't have to say that"

There is no way I was the best

I didn't do anything

He ate me out, he fingered me, he fucked me

I didn't do anything until the end

And it wasn't much

"I'm telling you the truth"

Looking over at him, I say, "I just laid there. I didn't do anything"

He shakes his head, "You did. You felt good. Taste so good. You pulled my hair, you moaned my name, you fucked me until I came. You did enough"

Ok if he says so

I notice he's dressed, his pants pulled back up while I'm still naked

"I guess we should leave?", I say

There's no other reason to stay here now that we fucked

He nods, "Yeah"

"Ok. I'm gonna go to the bathroom to uh..clean up", I say

"Sure. Take your time"

Standing up, I walk to the bathroom, his cum running down my legs

Fucking embarrassing

Closing the door, I lean against it for a minute, still shocked that I fucked a stranger

Well he's not a total stranger

I know who he is

I have to stop thinking about this

It happened and it's over now

He's never going to want me again

One and done

Sighing, I clean up between my legs then go to the sink and wash my hands

I glance up in the mirror and I stop what I'm doing

I look at my body in the mirror, at the trail of hickeys starting from my neck to my pussy

All of them dark purple

It's...so pretty

I bring my hand to my neck, softly touching the marks, my fingers following the trail he left on me

I find that I really like having his marks on me

Like I'm his

I drop my hand

I need to stop

He's a fucking crime boss, I don't want to be his

I don't need danger in my life

I don't need to be murdered

This was sex and nothing else

Getting a grip, I leave the bathroom

He's still sitting on the bed, looking through his phone

I quickly get dressed then check my phone

Ten missed calls and dozens of texts from Milena, Taehyung and Saeyan

Shit

I forgot all about them

Milena is gonna rip me a new one

"Ready?"

I look up to see him standing by the door

Like he can't wait to leave

That hurts a little

Like now that he fucked me he doesn't want to be near me

Whatever

"Yeah", I say, walking towards him

We leave the room, walk down the hall and into the elevator

"I can take you home", he says

"Oh no, that's ok. You don't have to"

He shakes his head, "You can't be alone around here. Especially not at night. They're low lives, criminals that will take you. Rape you or worse just for walking down the street. If you were with your friend then it'd be safer but you're alone. I'm not taking the chance of anything happening to you. I'm taking you home"

Well alright then

I find it ironic that he's talking about criminals when he is one

But I guess he consideres himself a better criminal?

Whatever

"Ok. Thanks"

"Sure", he nods

The elevator doors open and we exit, with him dropping off the key card as we pass the desk

We get to the parking lot and head to his car

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

"Where the fuck we're you?", Milena yells as soon as I walk into our apartment

"Out", I answer, walking towards my room

I need a shower then I need sleep

"You are not getting away with that answer!", she exclaims following me into my room

"I was out Mi", I repeat, dropping my bag on my chair

What am I supposed to tell her?

How could I tell her I was with a jokop boss?

She'll freak out even more

"Joanne!", she yells, making me look at her, "Where were you? When Tae and I got to the bar you weren't there. You weren't answering our calls or texts. I was freaking out. You cannot just come in and say you were out! I've been worried the whole night!"

She's right

I just disappeared

I worried her

I can't just blow her off

"I uhh-"

"Is that a hickey?", she shrieks, turning my head

"Uh yeah"

"That's a lot of hickeys", she gapes

If only she knew

"How far down do they go?", she asks, pull my shirt collar down

I lightly push her off, "Nosey much?"

"How far?"

I roll my eyes, "All the way"

"To your cunt?"

God, does she have to know everything?

"Yes", I answer through clenched teeth

"Ok so...you were with a guy?"

I nod

"Well that makes sense on why you didn't answer your phone", she says, "But doesn't make sense as to why you didn't tell me where you were going"

"It uh...was unexpected. It happened fast and I forgot"

"Fine. Just don't do it again. Tell me where you're going so I don't worry"

I nod, "Yeah. I promise. I'm sorry"

"You're forgiven", she forgives me, "Now who was the guy?"

"I uh...I..."

What do I say?

"Was it Yeosang?"

Yeosang?

The guy who works at Starbucks and is in our dance class?

"Uh no"

"Really? Because he likes you"

"What?"

What the hell is she talking about?

"He asked me about you after class one day. If you're single. I told him yes"

"Yeah great", I sigh, "But no, it wasn't him"

"Well did you get back with Yunho?"

God no

Not after he cheated on me

"Not a chance in hell"

"Good because I would have slapped you if you said yes"

Ha well she may just slap me yet

"So who was it?", she prods, "I don't know who else to guess"

Yeah she does but she's not thinking about him

"You know who he is", I tell her

"No, I don't know anyone else who-", she stops, realization in her face

I swallow then look away from her

"It's not...him?", she gapes

I nod once

"You fucked Changkyun?", she yells

"Stop yelling!", I snap

"Joanne what the fuck? He's a criminal! He's a gangster! He dangerous!"

"I know ok? I know", I answer, running my hand through my hair

"Then why did you agree to it?"

I shrug helplessly, "I don't know Mi. I was at the bar waiting for you guys and he came over. He talked to me. He told me what he wanted. He was straightforward about it. And I just went"

"You just went. You, who said you'd never fuck a stranger"

I know

I just did something I said I'd never do

"Where did you go?"

"To uh a love motel", I cringe

"What?", she shouts, "You we're just saying that you'd never go to one a little while ago. And now your going to one to have a one night stand with a jokop boss. What the hell?"

I don't say anything because I don't know what to say

Silence falls between us for a few minutes

"Well how was it?", she eventually asks

I look at her and she looks at me expectantly

"Well?"

"It was....amazing", I confess

"Really?"

I nod

"What did he do?"

I blush as I tell her about our encounter

When I finished, she stares at me shocked with her mouth open

"He ate you out three times?"

I nod

"And you didn't blow him?"

"He uh said I didn't have to. And after he went down on me, he immediately wanted sex"

"How many times did you cum?"

Jesus, she wants specifics

"I don't know like five time?"

"Five!", she squeaks, "Goddamn"

"Is that a lot?", I ask

"Uh duh!", she nods, "How hot is his body? Does he have a six pack"

"I uh...I don't know"

"How do you not know? You had sex with him"

"He uh...was dressed when he ate me out and then he ah...he fucked me from behind. He kept his shirt on dropping just his pants. And it felt too good for me to look back at him while we were....you know"

"Damn. Well maybe you'll see him naked next time"

"Next time?"

There isn't going to be a next time

It was once

I don't think he'd want to again

I don't know if I'd say yes again

"Oh please Jo. There's gonna be a next time. The way that man stares at you. Like he wants to throw you on the nearest table and fuck you stupid. That man has the hots for you and he's gonna keep trying to get you"

I gape at her

Is she insane?

How can she tell that just by him looking at me?

"You're so wrong but ok"

"No I'm right"

"Mi, he couldn't wait to leave the motel after we were done. It was a one time thing and that's all"

"Sure Jo. Keep telling yourself that", she says, walking to my door, "Just be prepared to hear me say I told you so when it happens again"

"Mi-"

"You should shower. Then sleep. You have class tomorrow"

Then she's gone

She's wrong

Changkyun isn't going to want me again

The thrill of the chase is gone

I gave into him and now that he got what he was after, he's gonna move on to someone else

I know it

I have to forget about what happened

It's over and I need to get back to my life

Grabbing PJs, I head to the bathroom to shower

#ksmutclub #love motel #changkyun fanfic #changkyun smut #changkyun fic #i.m fics #i.m smut #monsta x fanfic #monsta x fic #monsta x smut #monsta x changkyun #monsta x i.m

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every-marveler-ever · 2 years

Text

Knife, Fork, Then Spoon

🗯️ IRONHUSBANDS BINGO FILL; I4) Out Of Spoons

PAIRING: Tony Stark x James Rhodes

RATING: General

(Ao3 Link)

Tony feels bad that's all. Rhodey feels like setting him a challenge (with the sense of sympathy of course)

“Are you eating ice cream with a fork?”

“There were no spoons” is Tony’s automatic response but Rhodey knows that is not true.

So Rhodey squints at his husband quite confused at the manner that Tony is eating ice cream, Tony Stark is eating ice cream, on a cream-white couch, staring at a blank TV screen, a TV Rhodey knows he fixed just this morning. Rhodey blinks “did you not think to wash a spoon then?” he asks.

Tony, like only Tony Stark, can, ignores the question as if it’s not worth his time rolling his eyes instead. He quickly retreats this movement when he realises it’s his husband he is in fact rolling his eyes at. Rhodey does not take lightly this movement and so the colonel crosses his arms. Tony looks down at his fork and then back at his, loving, adoring, husband who has a concerned look on his face, “it felt like punishment enough, no TV, only using a fork!” Rhodey is bedazzled.

“Is this a challenge? Has Peter challenged you or something? Can you not say anything, nod your head if you need help?”

Rhodey lists with a small smile on his face because only his husband, only his.

“I missed Peter’s decathlon meet up, he was so excited for me to be there. I stood him up.”

That certainly changes Rhodey’s thoughts about this situation. He sits instead. Sits next to Tony on the couch an arm around his best friend's shoulder holding on to him so Tony doesn't feel the need to swoop down any lower.

“Let's message Peter because I am sure that this will certainly make him feel better,” “me eating ice cream with a fork?” “No. The fact that you think this is punishment,” and so Rhodey pulls out his phone and takes a photo of the frowning Tony that’s looking at him, the same one that’s dressed in a Spider-Man memorabilia MIT sweater.

Maybe that should have been Rhodey's first clue for what’s going on.

He loves his husband, absolutely loves him and the amount of love he has for their pseudo son.

So as a great pseudo dad, Rhodey can’t help but take a small slither of sympathy. “I’m sure Peter will understand, I’m sure you had a good reason, Peter understands things like that and I know you will make it up to him.”

Tony smiled because nobody can really make him happier than his husband and he’s okay with saying that because it’s true. He does think of the future then “a Star Wars trip?” he suggests, because Tony Stark can’t do anything by halves.

Rhodey taps him on the shoulder in support “I’m sure Peter will just appreciate some Star Wars ice cream instead-” but he pauses, he can have some fun with this though -”but I do have another idea of how you can make it up to him.”

Huh, the dumb things his husband will do for Peter.

Something to certainly consider in the future of their marriage.

Bonus scene:

Peter Parker sits on the other side of a phone screen laughing at his favourite couple in the world, two people that are basically his dads. “He actually did that? Ate a whole bowl of ice cream with a knife! A knife!”

Tony just huffs in the background arms crossed as Rhodey tells Peter all about the challenge he had created for his own husband, “the whole thing just because he felt bad for you.”

Peter continues to laugh the words barely slipping out, “that- haha- meet up- ha- isn’t till next- whoo ha- week.”

“What!”

Bonus scene two:

Pepper Potts blinks multiple times, her eyelashes truly getting a workout as she looks at the photo sent to her by Peter.

She no longers feels bad about accidentally messing with Tony’s calendar.

Certainly on accident.

Definitely.

Every-Marveler-Ever

BINGO CARD(S):

#bingo fill #ironhusbandsbingo #ironhusbandsbingo2022 #tony stark #peter parker #pepper potts #rhodey #james rhodes #tony stark x rhodey #rhodey x tony #every-marveler-ever #every marveler ever

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

and the winner is... ~ eminem

word count: 1784

request?: yes!

“hey, love your writing sm ❤️ I really like the concept where the reader is a young actress with Eminem, so can I request one where they go to Marshall’s award show for the first time publicly, they try to keep it low key but the reader presents an award and when Em wins they share a warm moment on stage and the media loses it? thanks in advance”

description: in which they say they’re going to be lowkey for their first public appearance as a couple, and then he wins the award she’s presenting

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

It was hard to keep my hands off of Marshall as we walked down the red carpet. It was our first public outing as a couple, but Marshall wasn’t very into PDA so we had decided to keep it somewhat lowkey. It seemed like a good idea in theory, until Marshall did the unthinkable and showed up dressed in a suit. How am I supposed to not jump his bones when he looks damn fine in a suit?

Every time I so much as glanced at him the paparazzi would go crazy. So many flashing lights that eventually I was seeing spots. It was hard to keep smiling when I couldn’t even see ahead of me.

Marshall put an arm around my waist - which of course led to more flashing lights - and walked me off the red carpet into the venue. The minute I walked through the doors into the dimly lit room, it really was like I couldn’t see. I had to take a minute to let my eyes adjust to the sudden light change.

“Weird how quickly I go from basically a nobody on a red carpet to a hot commodity just because I have attractive arm candy,” I joked.

A half smile tugged at Marshall’s lips. “You were never a nobody. Not to me anyways.”

“Awe, that’s so sweet it’s kind of gross,” I teased.

This earned me an actual laugh as Marshall pulled me in for a kiss. Without any prying eyes around, we felt free to actually be a couple.

We engaged with some others in the industry, including those Marshall considered to be close friends of his. I felt out of place at this music award show as an actress who was still trying to become more than just a side character in the movies she starred in. I was grateful to have Marshall there to help me through it.

When we took our seats as the show was starting, Marshall reached over to take my hand. “Are you okay?”

I shrugged. “Nervous I think. Which I shouldn’t be because it’s just me announcing an award, but it’s my first time on an award show stage for any reason, and it’s a pretty big award.”

“And it’s one I’m nominated for.”

I looked over at Marshall with wide eyes. “What?!”

“You didn’t know?”

I shook my head. Now I felt so much more nervous. What if I pulled a Steve Harvey and said the wrong name because I wanted Marshall to win? Or what if he actually did win but everyone thought I said he did because we were dating? I tried to focus on the stage ahead of me but my heart was beating so fast that my vision was starting to get blurry. I felt warm, like I was sweating, which made me worry that my makeup was starting to run. I was going to look disgusting with my makeup running on live television.

Sensing my new found nervousness, Marshall gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, look at me.” I glanced over to meet his gaze. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve rehearsed this speech so much that you can say it without the teleprompter. It’s not going to be any different just because I’m nominated. If I win, you give me the award and I do a speech. If I don’t win, you give the award to whoever does and they make a speech. It’s not a big deal, (Y/N), don’t worry too much about it.”

I wished I could’ve just let my fear rush from my body, but it was still there. Before I could say anything else, the lights went down and the show officially started.

I tried to just sit and enjoy the show but it was hard when I had my upcoming presenter role looming over me. Of course, it was one of the last awards of the show, so I had to sit there and let my nerves build as the suspense for the winner of the award grew as well.

Every now and then Marshall would give my hand another squeeze and I would calm down for that split second. Having him by my side helped a lot, but every time I remembered that he might be the recipient of the award I became nervous again.

Finally, it was my time to take the stage. They passed me the envelope with the name of the winner and motioned for me to take the stage. I plastered a smile on my face as my name was called and I walked onto the stage. I hoped the cameras couldn’t pick up my shaking, and I really hoped my shaking wouldn’t make my voice sound as bad as I feared it would.

“This award can only go to the best of the best,” I started, glancing at the prompter in front of me to make sure I was saying the words correctly. “The person who worked the hardest and had the best payoff with their release. The competition this year is fierce, and it was hard to narrow it down to just these five artists, as there have been so many amazing works of art released this past year. It has been an even harder choice to pick who of them all is the best, although I might be bias in saying I’ve already chosen my favorite.”

The audience chuckled at my improved addition to the speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here are your nominees.”

I watched the video that played of the nominated artists. My heart skipped a beat when Marshall came up, a few clips from the music videos he had filmed playing in a short montage. He had worked so hard on his latest album, every part of me hoped that he would be the winner I was announcing.

As the video came to an end, I turned back to face the audience (and the cameras) to announce the winner.

“And the award goes to...”

I tried not to let my slight fear show as I fumbled with the envelope for a moment. I started to worry that I wouldn’t even be able to open it and completely embarrass myself on live TV. I tried not to sigh with relief when the seal perfectly popped open and I was able to pull the card out. The smile on my face had to have given away the winner before the words were even out of my mouth.

“Eminem!”

The crowd cheered and stood from their seats. A camera found Marshall, who was standing from his seat and hugging Paul and Denaun before making his way to the stage. I couldn’t help but smile proudly at him as I extended the award I was holding - his award - to him.

I was taken by surprise when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. It was brief since he had an award to accept, but it was enough to make my head spin, the way his kisses usually did.

When he pulled away I was still so stunned that I almost forgot to give him his award. I could see him trying to hold back a laugh as he took it from my hands and turned to the microphone.

“Thank you,” he said to the still cheering audience. For a minute I forgot there was anyone else in the room, and realizing so many people had watched that kiss made my cheeks heat up. “I’d like to thank my manager, Paul, who for some reason still backs me with everything I do and produce even when it pushes the boundaries a little too much. I also want to thank the good Doctor, who has been supporting me since day one and who has always believed in me and gave me this platform to make music and to push the boundaries that Paul has to deal with. My daughters, my biggest inspirations. And of course, I’d like to thank the beautiful lady who presented this award to me tonight. I may not show it publicly but I am my happiest when I’m with you and I cannot thank you enough for that.”

I blinked away the tears forming in my eyes as I clapped along with the audience. The music started playing as Marshall offered me his arm to walk me off the stage. I felt like I was floating on cloud nine as we walked down the stairs and backstage, away from the cameras and the thousands of people watching us, both in person and on TV.

We were greeted backstage by other presenters and winners who were still mingling and celebrating their wins. Marshall was congratulated and a few of the other presenters told me how well I did with my presentation. I was proud of myself for getting through it, but I was more proud that I didn’t go completely airheaded after Marshall kissed me.

When we finally got away from the large amount of people, Marshall pulled me in for another kiss.

“So much for keeping it lowkey, huh?” I teased when I pulled away.

“I was caught up in the moment,” he said with a shrug, but I wasn’t completely convinced.

“That speech was uncharacteristically sweet,” I said. “For your public persona anyways. I figured you’d keep it short and sweet and maybe get the show into a little bit of trouble with an unplanned curse word.”

He chuckled. “Well normally that would be how things go. But I meant what I said during my speech: you make me the happiest I’ve ever been. When you said my name I just couldn’t help but feel this unfamiliar surge of happiness and excitement at winning. You know I don’t care about these types of award shows, but the fact that you presented this award to me made me care for just a second. I know I’ll be the talking point for the next few days because of this, but right now I don’t care all that much.”

Tears were welling in my eyes again as I pulled him back to me. “Shut up, you’re gonna ruin my makeup.”

His laugh filled my ears as he pulled me for another kiss. The happiness he said he felt coursed through my veins too. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in a moment like this.

When he pulled away he put his arm around me again and started to walk towards the door. “Let’s get out of here. I think I wanna celebrate my win with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”

I smiled brightly at him. “I like the sound of that.”

#eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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comfortbucky · 3 years

Note

hey hey! can u do some fluffy bucky about having to share a hotel room w u and there’s only one bed!!!! and he’s trying to be respectful n stuff but man does he have the fattest crush on u! thank u <333

HEY HEY YES OMFGGG THE ONE BED TROPE (ur mind😌🤝)

i’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE I DIDN’T EXPECT IT TO COME SO SOON

𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗱, 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗼𝘁𝘀 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚

pairing: bucky x fem!avenger!reader

tags: enemies(?) to lovers BABYYYY, angst, fluff

A/N: i almost always write about tfatws!bucky in mind but let me try and branch out by writing about avenger!bucky hehe

i hope u enjoy🥺💗i absolutely loved this prompt and loved writing this!!!! (it is almost 4am for me as i am posting this :) i’m insane :))

this oneshot will not be following the canon timeline!

word count: 2k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

“Stick to the plan, Y/N.” Steve’s voice came through over the intercom. She rolled her eyes at his warning. He always seemed to be extra cautious with her, making her feel like an unimportant member of the team, and this mission was no different.

“I got this,” she said, completely ignoring his request and charging headfirst at the enemy. Her brash decision resulted in her receiving a heavy beat down, ending up with a split lip and fractured ribs.

Needless to say, Steve was pissed. He and Y/N developed a close friendship over the years, during his search for Bucky. She was oftentimes the one who would stay up all night with him, looking for any trace of Bucky’s existence online. She’d become one of the closest people in his life, which is exactly why he was upset with her, endangering her own life.

After the mission, he confronted her at the base camp.

“You could’ve gotten killed!”

“But I didn’t,” she snapped back. “And the mission was a success anyways, so I don’t get why you’re so mad right now.”

Steve closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

“It’s reckless behavior like this that’s eventually going to get you killed, Y/N.”

Bucky walked into the room and immediately regretted his decision as soon as he laid his eyes on Y/N. He’d come to foster an animosity towards her, after seeing her close friendship with Steve. After Bucky joined the Avengers, he noticed how much time they spent together, and jealousy started to fester within him. Steve was the only person he felt comfortable being around in the tower and she constantly took him away from Bucky. Everyone else seemed to have an aversion to him, or so he assumed. He never gave anyone the chance to get to know him, locking himself up in his room most hours of the day. Bucky didn’t think anyone would want to get to know an ex-assassin, especially one that killed the Tony Stark’s parents. She was the one thing that kept Steve away from him and he despised it. So Bucky did what he did best and avoided any sort of interaction with her.

Steve looked at Bucky and suddenly, an idea popped in his head. He had noticed how closed-off Bucky had been since joining the Avengers and refused to let Y/N be alone, worried that she might make another brazen decision. He hatched a plan to kill 2 birds with 1 stone.

“Bucky,” Steve said, making his way over to him. “You and Y/N will be assigned to the same room tonight.”

Bucky choked on his own spit in response and Y/N began to protest.

“You’re not serious, right?” Steve turned to face her with a stern expression.

“You’re not giving me any reason to trust you to be alone.” She let out a defeated sigh and crossed her arms across her chest.

“Why me?” Bucky asked, trying to figure out how he ended up in this situation.

Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. “Because I trust you, Buck. I need you to do this for me.”

Bucky could see the desperation in Steve’s eyes and reluctantly nodded.

Steve was able to obtain another key card to the hotel room that Y/N was assigned to for the mission. He forgot to take into account the logistics of the sleeping arrangements, leaving Bucky to find a single bed as he entered Y/N’s room.

Bucky froze, his right hand on the door handle, keeping it open, his left hand by his side, holding his duffel bag. He racked his brain, trying to figure out what to do, when Y/N’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Relax,” she started, motioning for him to come inside. “I’ll sleep on the floor, alright?”

Y/N knew that Bucky didn’t like her, despite Steve trying to convince her otherwise. It hurt her feelings a bit, especially after she’d learned so much about him through both Steve’s stories and the time she spent tracking him down. He was such an important person to Steve, her close friend, and Bucky hated her. At first, she figured he was shy and wasn’t ready to open up to anyone else, especially after all the trauma he endured. But she realized he actively disliked her over time, with Bucky always leaving the room when she entered or ignoring her offers to hang out with her and Steve. Eventually, she gave up on reaching out to Bucky, as she only seemed to upset him further, no matter what she did. She figured it was for the best.

Bucky stepped into the room and shook his head.

“Bed’s too soft for me anyways, I’ll take the floor,” he grumbled.

Y/N shrugged in response, knowing that Bucky would be too stubborn to try and argue against. She turned around and picked up the phone, calling the front desk to ask for extra blankets and pillows. When she hung up the phone, she turned back to Bucky to see him nod in thanks.

The rest of the night was silent, as they both prepared for bed, taking turns going into the bathroom to wash up and change. While Y/N was in the bathroom, Bucky arranged the extra blankets and pillows into a makeshift bed on the ground, something that he’d done countless times before. Y/N exited the bathroom in an oversized t-shirt that covered her shorts, and placed her toiletries bag in one of the hotel dresser drawers.

“Bathroom’s all yours.” Bucky grunted in response, grabbing some clothes and a bag headed for the bathroom.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he stated, just before shutting the door behind him. Y/N scoffed at his comment, gently climbing into bed, in an attempt to not further injure her ribs. She winced as she tried to get into a comfortable position before settling to sleep on the side of her unaffected ribs.

Bucky emerged from the bathroom to see Y/N lying on her left side, her back towards him. He assumed that she had already fallen asleep and quietly crawled into his makeshift bed.

Approximately 10 minutes had passed, when he heard her sniffling. At first, he thought the noise was coming from outside the window, but he traced it back to her. He remained lying on his back for a moment, deciding whether or not to say something. Bucky sighed before speaking.

“You okay?” Y/N immediately stiffened upon hearing Bucky’s voice. She was hoping that he wouldn’t hear her crying, despite his super soldier hearing abilities.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she replied back, her voice wavering as she spoke. Y/N hated how weak and pathetic she sounded in that moment. Her fractured ribs made it hard for her to breathe and the adrenaline, that was previously shielding her from the pain, had faded, leaving her to lie there in agony. On top of that, she also felt that this mission solidified her belief that Steve had little faith in her ability to be an Avenger. The last thing she wanted to do right now, was to confess her insecurities to Bucky.

Bucky’s attitude softened, hearing Y/N’s voice crack when she spoke. He knew she’d gotten hurt due to her own, dumb, decision during the mission. Bucky quietly pulled his blankets off and stood up, leaving the room without saying another word. As soon as the door shut, Y/N burst into tears. Bucky did exactly as he’d done in the past many times before, leave. She wasn’t sure why this time upset her more than the rest. Probably because she knew that he was aware of her crying and he’d still chosen to abandon her completely.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, causing her to stop crying. Y/N listened to Bucky’s footsteps growing closer, and felt the bed dip under his weight as he sat on the edge she was facing towards. She peered over the blanket she was covering her face with, to see Bucky facing her, holding a bag of ice, wrapped in a towel. Bucky’s heart sank at the sight of her glossy eyes and tear stained cheeks in the moonlight.

“For your ribs,” he spoke softly, gesturing to the ice bag in his hands.

“Oh. Thank you.”

Y/N took the bag from him, attempting to slowly sit up. She closed her eyes as she grimaced, and suddenly felt a hand on her back, helping her up. Her eyes opened to reveal Bucky, with a soft smile on his lips. She silently thanked him again, placing the ice bag on the right side of her ribcage.

“Thought you hated me,” she mumbled, keeping her gaze down on her lap. He furrowed his brows, keeping his eyes on her.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Well, you definitely don’t like me.”

Bucky paused at her comment, thinking about his next words, before responding.

“I don’t like that you take up all of Steve’s free time,” he grumbled, causing Y/N to quickly look up at Bucky, his eyes averting her gaze. Her face fell, immediately realizing why Bucky had treated her so coldly all this time. He just missed his friend.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up at her in response. “I didn’t realize, I’m sorry.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t expecting her to be so kind and understanding, even coming up with multiple points to argue back at her. He realized then that he didn’t know her at all, but that he wanted to now. In an instant, she became an entirely different person. He studied her eyes and wondered if they had always sparkled like that, if her cheeks were naturally rosy, or if her lips had always been so pink and plump.

His expression softened and he cleared his throat. “It’s fine,” he muttered, tearing himself away from her gaze to look down at his lap. After a moment of silence, Bucky stood up to return back to the floor.

“Stay.” The words left Y/N’s mouth before she had time to process them. Bucky froze and turned to face her. “I mean, if you want to, of course. Just figured the floor must be super uncomfortable for you.” Y/N felt a blush creep up onto her cheeks and kicked herself mentally. She looked down at her hands, regretting the words she spoke, before feeling the bed dip again. She looked up to see Bucky. He smiled and she almost melted at the sight.

She shifted over, putting the ice bag on the nightstand, as Bucky crawled into bed next to her. The two rested on their backs, both staring at the ceiling in silence. Bucky remained at a respectful distance away, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. Y/N turned on her left side, her good side, to face him.

“I’m glad you don’t hate me.”

Bucky turned on his side to face her before responding.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

A strand of her hair had fallen in front of her face and Bucky, instinctively, reached out a hand to tuck it behind her ear. Immediately, he regretted it, about to pull his hand back when Y/N took her hand and placed it on top of his, guiding it to rest on her cheek. He cupped her face in his hand and she leaned into his embrace. Bucky felt his heart rate increase as she moved her body closer to his, wrapping the arm she used to hold his hand on her face, across his side. He shifted towards her as well, wrapping his arm around her body, bringing her closer to him.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, nervous that he might have somehow misinterpreted the situation. He hadn’t been with a woman in such an intimate way in years and had no idea what he was doing. Y/N looked up at him and nodded, before snuggling her face into his chest and Bucky felt a wave of calm wash over him.

“Can you stay here tonight?” Y/N mumbled, her face pressed into his chest. He chuckled at the vibrations from her voice and kissed her temple, smoothing her hair back.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to, honey.”

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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 3 years

Text

Grabbing Smoke

As much time as Sam spent with her best friends, sometimes she enjoyed a little bit of time alone.

Tucker was helping his mother bake cookies for some kind of fundraiser for the hospital, and Danny was busy visiting Pandora for fighting lessons. Apparently they were using swords today.

As fun as it sounded, Sam opted to stay behind, it had been a while since she'd been down to the park to feed the ducks. She didn't get quiet moments like that very often any more.

There was an uncharacteristic skip to her gait as she walked to the park, a canvas tote bag swinging from her arm.

Living in Amity Park, and especially hanging around with Danny, gave her an eerie sense to when something was amiss. Nothing quite like Danny's ghost sense, but she'd learned to detect a particular chill to the air, a prickling at the back of her neck. It could easily be mistaken for a chilly breeze, but Sam knew better. The crunch of gravel under Sam's boots was the only sound permeating the still air, not even the trees were rustling.

She continued her walk through the park, past the wishing fountain and through a trail where the trees grew slightly more dense.

The trail opened up to a large pond, it wasn't anything especially picturesque, the reeds were a little overgrown, the ground was muddy, but there were a few simple weather worn benches by the path that looped around the water.

Sam took a seat, pulling out a bag of frozen peas. She opened it, tipped a few into her hand and tossed them into the water.

The ducks immediately sped across the pond toward her, fighting for the peas that the turtles hadn't already gotten to.

Instead of grabbing another handful, she held the bag out to the empty seat to her left, waiting for a moment before shaking the bag impatiently.

A green hand slipped into the bag, pulling out a handful of peas before tossing them into the water.

"How'd you know I was here?" Kitty asked, now sitting visibly on the other end of the bench as Sam poured out more peas for both of them.

"I have my ways." Sam smirked. "What I want to know is why you've been following me all week."

"You knew for that long and you didn't say nothin'?" Kitty huffed. "Damn, I gotta up my game."

A duck waddled up and nibbled on her boot.

"Alright alright, ya hungry little doofus." Kitty lowered a hand full of peas and cooed as the duck happily ate from her palm. "Aww these guys aren't shy at all, do you come here a lot?"

"When I can." Sam tossed a few more peas into the water for the turtles. "So why are you following me?"

Kitty sat back and pressed her lips together, thinking.

"Look it's just... I don't remember much from when I was livin', you know? It's all sorta grey and fuzzy, I can't remember what anyone looked like, except Johnny." she tossed some peas to a smaller duck at the back of the group. "But as soon as I showed up here in town and I saw your face, I thought I felt... I dunno, somethin'. Like I'd seen you before, or maybe you just reminded me of someone, but I can't remember who, it's like grabbing smoke."

She lobbed a few peas a little harder than was necessary at the water. The turtles sucked them up greedily.

"So you've just been following me hoping you might remember something else?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Kitty sighed. "But it's not working."

Sam swung her foot idly between a pair of scuffling ducks, splitting them up before tossing out some more peas.

"Maybe I'm related to someone you knew. Where did you grow up?"

Kitty frowned down at the water.

"I... I don't know." she said, deflating somewhat. "I didn't even realise I forgot that."

Sam couldn't help but feel for her, Danny had told her that ghosts would often forget things from their past, especially once they'd been dead for longer than they'd been alive. Somehow she had never really considered how terrifying that must be.

"You know..." Sam started carefully. "I could show you some old family photos. Maybe you'll recognise someone?"

Kitty looked up, eyes shining brightly.

"Really? You'd do that for me?"

"Why not?" Sam shrugged. "If you were here to cause trouble you would have done it by now."

"Aw, I never thought you'd wanna do something like that for me." said Kitty, smiling brightly. "You always seemed like such a bitch."

Sam laughed.

"If you'd spent a week being someone that wasn't Paulina, I would probably have seemed like less of a bitch."

"So you guys are big rivals or somethin'?" Kitty asked, grabbing some more peas and giggling as three ducks tried to eat from her hand at once.

"It's more that we have... conflicting ideologies. She thinks that appearances and reputation are the most important things in life, just like my parents." Sam lobbed some more peas into the water, they both watched them disappear as the turtles quickly snapped them up. "It's shallow and stupid, and I don't get why they have to push that shit on everyone. I don't care what people think, I just want to be whoever the hell I wanna be without having to fight for it all the time."

Kitty's face turned contemplative as she tapped her nails on the back of the bench.

"I think... I was like that." she said, slowly. "I wanted to feel fun and exciting, but my parents..."

She trailed off, frowning.

"My parents... I didn't like them. They didn't like me bein' the way I was, I can't really remember why."

Sam emptied out the last of the peas and scattered them over the ground, she scrunched up the empty packet and shoved it back into her tote bag.

"You know, if we went to school together we would probably have gotten along." said Sam as she stood up, gesturing toward the path. "Let's go check out those photos."

Instead of floating invisibly behind, Kitty walked by Sam's side as they headed back to her house. She idly waved at people as they drove past, grinning when someone stared a little too long and almost ran a red light.

"You know, it's nice bein' able to walk around in the day." Kitty said, skipping a little. "Wish I could do it more often."

"What's stopping you?"

"What do you think?" Kitty's lip pulled up in disgust. "Any time I show up your dumb friend sucks me up in his stupid thermos. Only reason I can walk around right now is because I got you as my get out of jail free card."

"Danny doesn't care if you just want to walk around." Sam scoffed. "He lets ghosts wander around town all the time, he only gets involved when you start breaking things."

"Uggghhh but just walking around is so boring." Kitty pouted. "I mean yeah it's nice and I like it but it gets old real quick."

"Then you'll have to get used to getting tossed back in the ghost zone. Do not pass go, do not collect $200."

"Don't you ever get sick of his goody goody attitude?" Kitty asked. "I mean you and I aren't so different right? You're all about the rebel gig, don't you ever feel like keyin' some asshole's car, or takin' a baseball bat to some mail boxes?"

"Only if they deserve it." said Sam with a smirk. "But I feel like you aren't especially picky about whose stuff you're breaking."

They approached the door to the Manson mansion, Sam hopped up the steps and stuck the key in the lock. She touched the mezuzah on the doorpost without a second thought before opening the door and standing aside to invite Kitty in.

The ghost stared up at her warily.

"I can't get past it."

"Past what?" Sam asked.

"The mezuzah, it keeps me out."

"What?" Sam frowned. "It hasn't stopped other ghosts from getting in."

"Well it stops me." Kitty insisted. "I think it's got somethin' to do with what we believed in when we were alive. I haven't got a problem with churches but when Johnny tried to ride his bike through one he couldn't get in. His mom raised him Catholic, he says he doesn't believe in any of that stuff, but I think he still does, deep down."

"So does that mean you were Jewish?" Sam asked, smiling curiously.

"I AM Jewish." Kitty crossed her arms. "Bein' a ghost hasn't changed that, it just... means that we got a few things a little wrong."

Sam thought about that for a moment, before stepping aside and gesturing toward the door again.

"Well, if you've been invited and you're not going to cause any trouble, then I don't see why you shouldn't be able to come in."

Kitty climbed the steps slowly, fingers reaching out and cautiously brushing over the mezuzah, she didn't feel anything unusual, no zap or burn or pain. She took a step through the doorway and passed the threshold without issue, no invisible force or barrier like the last time she tried to follow Sam inside.

"Well, what do you know." she said, grinning.

Sam lead her into a large, open planned kitchen and dining area, the tiles were bright white save for the specks of mud Sam's boots tracked through the room. The decor was minimalist, the atmosphere bland and sterile, she could smell some kind of citrus surface cleaner.

The back wall was all windows, leading to a patio surrounded by perfectly trimmed grass. As they approached, Sam turned, heading towards a door to their right.

The next room felt a lot more friendly, it was full of bookshelves and red tones. The lounges looked soft and inviting, a fireplace sat cold and empty against the back wall, but Kitty didn't have to try hard to imagine it roaring to life, filling the room with its warm glow.

"This is basically my Grandma's part of the house." Sam informed her, voice low. "Her bedroom is just through there, she's usually napping around this time of day so try not to make too much noise."

Kitty slipped off her jacket and laid it over the back of the lounge, already feeling at home in the cosy little room. She looked over the books as Sam fussed around some kind of large ornate chest.

"Here it is." She hefted a large photo album from the chest, carefully closing and latching it again. "Let's see if you recognise anyone in here."

Kitty sat down beside Sam as she opened up the pristine book, the outer cover was beige with the name Manson inscribed in golden cursive on the front. The first page was full of old faded photos, in greyscale or sepia tones.

"Ugh, I'm not that old." said Kitty, flicking ahead a few pages.

The pictures were colourful now, but still grainy, there was a young blonde boy in seventies style jeans leaning casually against a Chevrolet.

"Wait hold up," Kitty pointed at the boy. "Him, I feel like I've seen him before."

"That's my dad." said Sam, surprised. "His name is Jeremy, did you know him?"

Kitty hummed a little, gently tracing a finger over the picture.

"Jeremy... Jeremy, I'm not sure," she frowned. "But he definitely looks familiar."

They continued through the book, when suddenly Kitty slapped her hand down roughly on a photo of a pair of young women.

"Her! I know her! She was a mega bitch!"

"Shhh keep it down." Sam hissed.

"Sorry," Kitty pointed to the blonde girl in the photo. "That one! I don't know how I knew her, but I definitely knew her. She was a total brat."

Sam slipped the photo out of its sleeve and read the neat cursive on the back.

"This is... my Aunt Caroline, in 1985. She's my dad's sister." Sam looked up at Kitty, amused. "I can't believe you had beef with my family."

"Your family are snobs." Kitty sniffed. "Carrie was such a ditz, she thought she was sooo bitchin' because her daddy bought her a Mercedes."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Sam grimaced. "Did you guys go to school together or something?"

"Maybe..." Kitty took the photo from Sam's hand, staring intently. "I'm pretty sure I skipped school a lot, I hated it there. It was a private school, we had to wear uniforms, barf."

"I would never have guessed you were a private school kid." Sam shook her head. "But most people would say that about me so it's not like I can judge."

"You went to private school?" Kitty asked, "How'd you end up in that Casper High dump?"

"Got myself expelled." said Sam, voice thick with pride. "Elementary, middle and high school, got kicked out of all three."

"Damn, you're good."

Sam grinned, slipping the photo back in its sleeve and continuing to the next page.

Kitty pointed to a few other photos, remarking on their familiarity, but not quite able to grasp how she knew them, the memories only flickered in her periphery.

"Wait," Kitty whispered, fingers brushing over a polaroid containing three people. "This is..."

The picture looked as though it were taken at some kind of party, a man and a woman faced the camera, each with a glass of champagne raised in their hands. The woman's other hand rested on the shoulder of a teenage girl with auburn hair, pulled into a tidy braid. She stared glumly at the camera.

"That's Katherine." Sam said, pointing to the girl. "She was my dad's cousin, but she got hit by a car when she was-"

Sam paused, looking over at Kitty's wide eyes and then back to the photo.

"Noooo way." Sam pulled the photo out of the sleeve. "Is this you?"

Kitty took the photo in trembling hands.

"I... I forgot I used to look like that." she fiddled with a lock of her green, teased hair. "I remember this party, I didn't want to go but mom and dad threatened to take away all my records and cassettes if I didn't."

Sam stared at Kitty, mouth agape.

"You're Car Crash Katherine?! My dad talks about you all the time! He always told me about the shit you used to get up to, he'd tell me that any kind of 'rebellious behaviour' was a slippery slope to 'dying on the back of some delinquent's motorcycle'." Sam put a hand on Kitty's shoulder. "You were my bad influence role model."

Kitty's red eyes shone with tears, photo still in hand, she wrapped her arms around Sam.

"This is majorly wicked! My legacy lives on! Corrupting the youth from beyond the grave!" Kitty laughed. "My parents would go totally mental."

She stopped laughing, her face turning forlorn as she drew back from Sam and stared down at the picture.

"Are they still alive?" she asked, a tremble in her voice.

"Yeah..." said Sam. "They live in a retirement home in Florida. They don't come around very often."

Kitty traced a finger over their faces.

"I wonder if they miss me." she said quietly. "Or if they were glad to be rid of the family embarrassment."

Sam didn't answer, she had wondered the same thing herself, if her parents would even care if she died. They hadn't given her a lot of reason to think they would.

She rested a sympathetic hand on Kitty's arm.

"Oh, you have a friend over bubbeleh?" a croaky voice spoke from the bedroom doorway.

Sam and Kitty both turned to see Ida Manson shuffling into the room, cleaning her glasses with her sleeve.

"Sorry Grandma, we didn't mean to be too loud." Sam apologised. "This is my... um, friend, Kitty. Kitty this is my Grandma Ida-"

"Ida?!" Kitty shot to her feet, staring in shock at the old woman. "Aunt Ida?!"

Ida squinted at Kitty, before quickly setting her glasses back on her face.

"Well as I live and breath, is that you Kathy?"

"Oh my god this is getting super weird." Sam whispered.

Kitty leapt over the ottoman to wrap Ida up in a tight hug, the old woman was surprised for a moment, but held her warmly in return.

"It's me Aunt Ida! Not really living or breathing but it's me!" Kitty laughed breathlessly.

"Oh my goodness, when all the ghosts started showing up all over town I wondered if I would ever see someone I knew." She rubbed comforting circles on Kitty's back as the ghost choked on a few sobs. "It's good to see you again Kathy."

Ida pulled away and wiped a tear from Kitty's face.

"And I'm so glad you aren't stuck wearing what your parents buried you in."

Kitty couldn't help but laugh through her tears.

"Let me guess, it was that putrid blue dress, wasn't it?"

"The dress wasn't nearly as bad as what they did to your hair." Ida snickered, patting Kitty's hand. "It had little ribbons in it and everything."

"I almost forgot you." Kitty placed her palm gently against Ida's face. "You were the only one in the family who ever loved me for being me, and I almost forgot you. I'm so sorry, I should have come to find you sooner but I just-"

"Shhhh, it's okay bubbeleh." Ida grasped her hand tight. "I think being dead is a pretty good excuse for forgetting a few things."

Sam stood beside the lounge, watching the two in shock, she wasn't entirely certain whether or not to intrude. Whatever she had been expecting to discover with Kitty today, it certainly hadn't been this.

Though in hindsight, it did explain Kitty's familiarity with Sam, people always said she had taken after her Grandma.

Ida let go of Kitty and hobbled over to the photo album still sitting on the lounge.

"Oh you don't want to look at that album." she said, as she shoved it onto the coffee table. She wandered to the other side of the room and began rummaging around in a small cupboard. "You want this one."

She pulled out a book with well worn, peeling edges. Pieces of the plastic sleeves had cracked off and crumbled away. It was old, and weatherbeaten, it was obvious that Ida had looked through it many many times.

"Here we go." she sat down in the middle of the lounge, gesturing for the two girls to come sit beside her. "These are the forbidden photos."

She opened the pages, the photos inside were entirely different from the 'official' album, there were no perfectly poised, prim and proper photos of people in nice, presentable clothes. They were all candid shots, people in the middle of eating or laughing, some were stumbling around blind drunk, a few were smoking joints. There were pictures from parties and protest rallies, in backyards and drive ins.

There was a picture of Jeremy as a young boy, grinning with one of his front teeth missing and grass in his hair.

"Only in this family would losing your baby teeth make a photo 'unsavoury'." Ida grizzled as she continued through the album. "I saved so many pictures that my husband would have thrown out otherwise."

"Ugh, Uncle Peter was such a prude, he wouldn't even let me in the house if I didn't have my shoulders covered up." Kitty rolled her eyes.

"He used to be so much more relaxed when we were young." Ida sighed. "He changed when he inherited his father's business, he forgot how to have fun."

A few pages later Kitty squealed in excitement.

"Oh my god! That's Frankie! She was my best friend, we used to do everything together!"

The Kitty in the photo looked far more like the Kitty Sam knew. Her hair was teased up, and she was wearing a crop top and a miniskirt. The other girl, Frankie, had short curled hair and a leather jacket. They each had an arm around the others' shoulder and grinned wildly.

"I love this one." Ida smiled as she pulled the picture out of the sleeve. "That was the night I gave you a lift to that concert."

"Oh that show was sooo good! I got my nose pierced there! It got so infected, Mom grounded me for a month." Kitty laughed.

"Man, and I thought I was cool for skipping school to go see Circus Gothica." Sam grinned. "I'm gonna have to come home with a tattoo next time."

"I can't believe I forgot about Frankie, I can't believe I forgot about all of this." Kitty held the photo close to her chest, a few tears running down her face. "I'm so glad it's not gone for good."

She kept the photo in hand as they looked through the rest of the album. There were many pictures of Ida, all of them with other people of all walks of life.

"Oh this was when you took us to that pride parade!" Kitty smiled. "You made Frankie so happy, and you knew a lot of the drag queens there, like a LOT."

"Grandma took me to a drag show when I was 10," said Sam. "Even took me backstage to meet them all, my parents thought we went to the theatre to see Romeo and Juliet."

"Oh I have photos from that." Ida flipped through the pages, getting closer to the end of the album. "Here we are, oh Evelyn just LOVED you."

Sam looked at the picture of Evelyn, frowning slightly.

"Oh weird, she kinda looks like Mr Lancer's sister, he keeps her photo on his desk..." Sam paused as she processed what she just said. "That's not his sister is it?"

"You probably shouldn't bring it up." said Ida gently. "Teachers can get in trouble for associating with this sort of thing."

"That's so bogus!" Kitty cried. "I really thought this kinda stuff would be better in the future!"

"It is," Ida assured her. "But we're a long way from perfect."

Ida flipped back through the album, searching for more pictures of Kitty and Frankie. There were a good few of them, each one Ida pulled out and passed over for Kitty to look at and hold onto.

"Oh woah, is that Johnny?" Sam pointed to a picture of Kitty sitting on the back of a motorcycle with a blonde boy. "He looks exactly the same, just a little less pale."

"Oh, did Johnny come back as a ghost too?" Ida asked.

"Yeah! We've been together all this time, in sickness and in death." Kitty beamed. "Mom and dad blamed him for everything I did, even if he wasn't around when I did it. They said him and Frankie were 'corrupting' me."

She rolled her eyes.

"I bet they blamed him for my death too. They'd be so mad if they knew we were still together."

"Just goes to show they had no chance of keeping you two apart." Ida said. "Not even death could do that."

Kitty held the photo tight in both hands, her shoulders began to shake slightly.

"It was my fault you know." she said with a trembling little giggle. "Funny huh? My parents always blamed him for everything, but in the end it was my fault we got hit. We were havin' a fight over somethin' stupid and I distracted him-"

Ida wrapped an arm around Kitty, patting her head comfortingly as she laid it against the old woman's shoulder.

"I think you're being too hard on yourself bubbeleh." Ida whispered gently into her hair. "It was raining, the truck that hit you was running a red light, the driver was charged for both your deaths. Even if you did distract him, you weren't the only card at play that night."

She gave Kitty a light shake.

"And don't think I didn't see the way Johnny used to drive that thing, he was reckless. I have no doubt that he wasn't paying as much attention as he should have been." She placed a kiss on the girl's forehead and squeezed her tight. "It's not fair to hold all of that responsibility on yourself, even if you both did everything right, that truck still would have run that red light, it still would have been raining. It was just pure rotten luck."

Sam had never heard a ghost talk about their death before, even Danny didn't like talking about his accident, and asking about it was incredibly taboo. Sam had been pushing her luck earlier just by mentioning the car crash.

It said a lot about Kitty's love for Ida that she chose to open up about it. Sam couldn't say she was surprised, her Grandma had always been like that. Never anything but an endless well of love and support, and the occasional kick in the pants if you needed it.

"Johnny's always had rotten luck." Kitty sniffed. "Follows him like a shadow."

"Literally." Sam snorted.

After a few more moments, Ida pulled herself away from Kitty, she got up and began rooting through the cupboards, muttering to herself.

"Aha, here it is."

She brought over an empty photo album, it was roughly the size of a small pocketbook, containing only one photo sleeve per page.

"I meant to fill this with photos for Sam to keep." Ida admitted as she shuffled back over to the girls. "But I don't think she'll mind donating it to a good cause."

She winked at Sam, who nodded back.

"Here," Ida pressed the little album into Kitty's hands. "Memories are a fickle thing, but photos are forever."

"I can't take these!" Kitty insisted, pushing the album back. "They're your memories too!"

"Oh my god you're both so old." Sam laughed, "Dad has a printer/scanner. I can make copies."

As Sam took the polaroids to her dad's office, Ida and Kitty pored over the rest of the album, Kitty picking out more photos to copy. She chose a few of Ida and Sam, and even one of Carrie.

"She was a total loser and I hated her but I don't hate remembering her, you know? I want to remember everything, even the bad stuff."

She took a photo of her parents, just one.

When Sam came back with the last batch of photos, Ida finished slipping them into the little album.

"There's still a few sleeves left." Sam pointed out, holding up her phone with a smile. "We've got room for a couple of family reunion pics."

The two girls squished up against Ida as Sam snapped as many shots as she could. Ones where they smiled, ones where they laughed, ones where they laid haphazardly across the lounge together.

Then Sam took a few candids of just Kitty and Ida, as they looked through the new album they'd just made together. Capturing Kitty laughing at something as Ida looked at her with a soft, loving smile.

Kitty clutched the album to her chest as she gave Ida a long, drawn out hug.

"Thank you so much." she said, her voice thick with gratitude. "It's like I can see my life in colour again."

She left the house with the assurance that she would always be welcome back, at any time, and a promise that she would always be looking out for her 'new favourite cousin'.

Sam flicked through the photos she took on her phone, she would have to make sure to have copies printed by the time Kitty returned to visit.

She knew Kitty coming over regularly was going to make things complicated, her apparent newfound protectiveness over Sam could potentially backfire in many spectacular ways, she was petty and troublesome when in the right mood.

But then again, so was Ida, and so was Sam.

At least she had better things to do now than beat up strangers' mail boxes, Danny was certainly going to be glad to hear that.

#lula's fanfics #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #kitty #sam manson #ida manson

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gotnofucks · 3 years

Text

The Unreformed Rake

Pairing: soft!dark Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: Ransom Drysdale is a notorious rake, but he seems to have taken a shine to you. When he plans to make you his, nothing would stand in his way. No is not a word he understands.

Words: 3k

Warnings: Slightly dubcon touching, fingering, semi-public touching, forced marriage hinted, 18 + Only

A/N: This is my submission to Siri’s 5k Softdark challenge. Congratulations love @stargazingfangirl18 , you do us hoes so proud and keep our punanis so happy! I chose the prompt “Come on, just a little taste”. It’s highlighted in the text.

If your corset was a millimeter more tighter, you’d be dead. The mammas cared more about getting their daughters married off than about them making it alive through the ball. You were glad that as a second daughter you didn’t have too many eyes on you. All you had to do was let three to four men twirl you around the dancefloor to appease your mother, and then you could sit back and enjoy watching your older sister Anika try to catch a husband.

Mostly, the balls weren’t too bad. You got to meet with your friends and eat some delicious food without the constant supervision of your mother, sometimes you’d even find a decent dance partner who wouldn’t step on your toes or whose hands wouldn’t wander south of your back. You could have made it through the evening unscathed had one handsome rake not made an appearance.

The moment Lord Huge Ransom Drysdale stepped into the hall, all eyes were on him. And his were on you. He made a spectacular vision, donning the bright colours that most gentlemen stayed away from, and yet he looked more masculine than any of them. The eyes of every unwed lady followed his movements, their mothers urging them to approach him despite his reputation.

Everyone knew Huge Ransom Drysdale was a notorious rake; his stories were told at tea parties in hushed tones and often accompanied by giggles. He was proficient in the art of leaving a trail of broken hearts and stuttering men, but more than that, he was a master at getting under your skin. His eyes hadn’t left you for a moment, fixating on you and your current dance partner who was glued to your side like lichens to rock.

“You dance most marvelously Miss Y/N, would you do me the honour of the next one too?” He asked, looking smitten at you.

“Now now Allen, you wouldn’t hog Miss Y/N’s attention all for yourself, would you?” Lord Drysdale’s mocking voice carried over to you, the man walking languidly until he stood before you. “There are a number of other ladies in want of a partner, if you’d be kind enough to relent Miss Y/N’s hand to me.”

Allen bowed to him, recognizing the superior title and the man who held it. Placing a small kiss on the back of your hand, he beat a hasty retreat from you side like the coward you knew him to be. Lord Drysdale chuckled, raising a brow at you before offering you his arm. You had half a mind to turn your nose at him and storm away, but your mother would have conniptions if she learnt you said no to a Lord.

“You have a lot of nerve and no tact Your Lordship” You said in a whisper, allowing him to grip your hand and bring you closer. The music began and he spun you out gracefully before bringing you back into his body, much closer than was socially acceptable. His fingers were firm around yours, the hand on your waist tight, singeing the flesh underneath with his touch.

“You know I am a tactless bastard, that shouldn’t be news to you.” He said with a charming smile that could fool anybody but you. He put a façade better than any theater artist you knew. He led you around the other dancing bodies dexterously, not looking away from your face. After a moment, he abruptly asked, “Who were those three morons you danced with earlier? Didn’t I sent word that you must keep your dance card empty but for me?”

An appalled gasp escaped you and it was with restraint you kept yourself from bolting away from him. “Are you having me watched?”, You hissed in anger, wrinkling your forehead. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Of course I have people keeping an eye on you. Can’t let anything happen to my future wife.”

Because you couldn’t leave, you did the next best thing. You stepped on his toe with all your might, digging your hell into his feet until he groaned in pain. He retaliated by moving his hand from your waist to your backside, giving a firm squeeze to your ass that had you choking on a scandalized scream.

“Hugh!” You chided through gritted teeth, looking around quickly to see if someone had noticed. Amidst the sea of dancers, nobody focused on you alone, but it would be enough to ruin a lady’s reputation.

“You know that’s not what you call me.”

His blue eyes turned darker, more challenging and predatory as he leaned closer until his chest brushed against you. You struggled, trying to put distance between you as discreetly as possible but he wouldn’t give.

“Let go!” You said, digging your nails into his shoulder to no avail. The thick padding of his clothes prevented any harm.

“Say my name.”

It was an order, one that if not met would hold consequences. People thought they knew the philandering Lord Drysdale, but they had little inkling to the danger that resided just beneath the surface. You knew. Your gaze dropped away from his, head a little bowed in defeat.

“Ransom.” You whispered, and he let out a shuddering breath as if his name on your lips had taken away more from himself than from you. He wouldn’t let you address him as anything else, not you who he claimed would be wearing his ring soon.

The dance slowed to a stop, people clapping, and you pushed away from him, halfheartedly joining in the applause. Ransom stood too close, his hand on your waist still fast and you slapped it away in irritation.

“Look, just stay away from me. I don’t want mamma to see us together.” You said, weaving through the throngs of people and trying to escape him. He followed, keeping at your heels with no problem, playfully pulling at your sleeve.

“Stay away?” He scoffed, almost as if in wonder of your audacity to even demand that. “You’re gonna be Lady Drysdale soon, you need to get used to my presence. I will always be close. Very close.”

You turned on him, raising a finger and wagging it in his face. Heat was settling over your face and neck, seeping beneath your neckline and into your chest that was heaving. Ransom’s eyes trained on the rise and fall of your breast, a wolfish grin on his face as he licked his lips in appreciation and anticipation.

“I am not going to marry you Ransom!” You yelled in a whisper, amazed at his arrogance. “You keep away from me.”

In a second his fingers encircled your wrist, pulling you away from the floor into the shadowy corners as you protested. Sweeping aside the curtains, he pushed you into an alcove, pressing you in deeper with his body as the curtains fell again to shield you from curious eyes.

“We’ll have to do something about that mouth of yours.” He hissed cruelly, caging you between his massive arms. “You can’t go around speaking to me like this.”

His face neared yours, eyes dark and dangerous as they glared into you, his mouth opening slowly. You knew what was going to happen and you turned your face at the last second, his lips finding your cheek instead. Warm breath fanned your already heated skin, a flutter of butterflies setting your nerves astray.

“Stop! This isn’t proper.” You said, squirming as Ransom refused to back away. He chuckled in derision, forcefully turning your face to his. You hated how he still looked so beautiful, despite the sneer and arrogance.

“Wouldn’t be the first time we did it. Or did you forget about those stolen moments after the lakeside picnics? What about those walks in the park where I’d press you into a bark of tree and ravish this sinful mouth? We’re long past proper my darling, and the only reason your virtue is intact is because I am affording you the dignity to keep it until our wedding night.”

Your gaze lowered in mortification, those shameful moments coming back to you as flashes behind your eyelids. He had been far too powerful, too intense to refuse. In your weakness, you’d allowed him liberties that made guilt settle like weight on your chest every time your mother bragged about your modesty to other mammas.

“That was my mistake, Ransom. I’m supposed to marry a man of impeccable standing, someone who holds everyone’s good opinion. After Anika gets herself a man, it’ll be me, and my mother would never marry me off to a rake like you.”

His chest expanded in indignation under your hands, and he held you steady as he ground himself against you. Anger, jealousy, and sheer disbelief at your words was evident in his glare, and you shivered in fear as his lips skimmed over your jaw.

“You will marry me, mamma or no mamma. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to make you mine.” He promised, eyes glinting in warning. “What’s that saying? A reformed rake makes the best husband, ain’t it?”

“You’re not reformed.” You countered, captive in his hold. A part of you that you refused to acknowledge didn’t want to leave at all.

“That’s true.” Ransom said, smirking. “I am a rake, its time I play to my reputation.”

He kissed you hard, his tongue pushing past your lips without preamble. You couldn’t help moaning into his mouth, your fingers clutching his collar for dear life, knees threatening to collapse as he kissed you like a man starved. You knew he had a talented tongue by his charming words, but there was more to it than merely speaking. He discovered you, explored you like an untouched cave and brought you back to life.

Nobody could make you feel like he did. You had no patience for conceited, blustering men, but Ransom was more than that. He was a force that overpowered your life like winds did to fallen leaves. He carried you with himself, unrelenting, persistent. He was passionate and hungry, he was obsessed. After the first time he had kissed you in the park, he promised he wouldn’t kiss anyone again. He promised he’d make you his, and that if any man tried to claim what belonged to him, it would end in a duel.

In his kiss, you felt his possessiveness. You felt his raw power and lust that had led you to sin on more than one occasion. Saying no to him was difficult, mainly because you were most yourself when with him. He gave you wings unknowingly. He gave you the freedom to rebel unknowingly. To him, it was your claiming. But hadn’t you claimed him too in one kiss? Hadn’t you transformed the rake into a marriageable sort in one kiss?

“Ransom, we can’t.” You breathed against his lips, both your mouths swollen and glistening.

“Yes we can. We will.”

His hand ventured south of your neck, dipping into your neckline and brushing against the plump swell of your breast. You sputtered, not knowing if you were urging him or objecting. He pressed you hard into the wall, trailing his lips from your neck to your chest, sucking and nibbling with utmost patience and care. You whimpered at his assault, soft mewls spilling from your mouth and you rested your head back, unable to control the heat that simmered in your core.

“There is no power in the world that can stop me from making you my wife.” He said, looking right into your eyes as he sharply pulled and tore a rip into your bodice. You screeched, thumping your fists against his chest before he gathered them in one arm and held them above your head. “This is just a preview of what will happen between us when you take my ring and name.”

Pushing away the limp fabric from your breast, his mouth enveloped your nipple in one fell swoop. You cried out in pleasure, his warmth spreading into your own body and you feared you’d burn. A fire was simmering between your legs, wet and wanting, chanting his name. His teeth gently grazed your nipple, causing you to whimper, a sound he captured in his mouth.

“Look at me.” He ordered, and you opened your eyes without having realized they were closed. The blue in his had never been darker, almost black like the night sky that swallowed down everything in its path.

“Please don’t.” You begged. “I have sisters whose reputation are tied with mine. You’ll ruin us all.”

Ransom smiled, and you gulped because he looked almost tender. As his fingers trailed down your front to gather the layers of skirt above your knees, he bumped his nose in yours. “Never. I am a Thrombey-Drysdale. I’ll take you, and I’ll save your family. Everything I own is yours.”

The look in his eyes was such that you didn’t protest as he traced your thighs, approaching the apex. He didn’t look away as he reached your moist core, nor when he found your sensitive nub and ran circles around it with his fingers. You moaned, biting your lip to stifle your voice as his breathing picked up. Your scent filled the small niche you were in, his chest digging into yours, hand buried between your legs.

A strangled cry did escape when you felt him at your weeping entrance, threatening to breach the untouched walls of your virtue. You shook your head, asking him not to cross the boundary that will change everything between you.

“Come on, just a little taste.” He urged, pressing inside with one finger. He delved in slowly, his intrusion felt against the spongy walls of your sex and you trembled. You were panting you realized, hips gyrating almost subconsciously to mirror his movements.

“Ransom” You moaned, pushing forward. You had to do something, anything. You felt about ready to combust.

“I know. I know. Look at me and remember the pleasure I can give you. Remember the love I will shower on you.”

Another finger joined the first, stretching you until it burnt. You held onto his arms, breath coming in sharp intervals as he moved in and out, the obscene sounds of your essence mixing in with your laboured breathing.

“Do you feel the fire my darling?” Ransom asked, and you nodded. He rested his forehead on yours, forcing you to meet his eyes as he sped up, the heel of his hand digging into your nub. “Look into my eyes and let go. Come, now.”

Your back arched and your pressed forward into his body, quacking in pleasure as sensations that had no name wrecked your whole body. Your teeth sank into his neck to hold in your scream, whole body vibrating and undulating in ecstasy. You remained like this until you caught your breath, sweat gathering above your lips and brow. He looked ravenously at you. He looked in awe too.

Raising his hand, he showed you his fingers soaked in your wetness and slowly he brought them to his mouth and sucked. You gulped, suddenly feeling empty as Ransom closed his eyes in the relish of your taste. When he finally looked at you again, you knew you were lost. The wolf had had his taste of blood. There was no escaping.

He kissed you slow and soft, sharing your taste with you and pulling you closer into him. It didn’t seem like he would part. For all you knew, the world had burnt away leaving only this niche in the wall intact, two people who were just learning to explore each other the only ones alive.

“Do you know, or should I say?” He asked, and you sucked in a breath. Who would have thought this day would come?

“Say it.” You answered. You knew, oh yes. But you needed to hear. You needed to watch those beautiful lips curve around words that bound you to him in something far more potent than marriage.

“I love you.” He said, sincerely, truly and with no hesitation. He loved you. Lord Hugh Ransom Drysdale loved you. Your eyes glistened with unshed tears and you stood on your toes to brush a kiss against his lips.

“I love you, Your Lordship.”

His arms came around you so strong that they felt like chains. You stayed in his embrace, disheveled and disoriented. You never expected your evening would have ended like this.

“Remember my love, then. And forgive me.” Ransom said. Before you could ask him what he meant, he threw apart the curtains that contained your sin and bared you to the world. The first person gasped aloud, and then ten more. You stood paralyzed, holding a hand against your chest to conceal the peeking flesh behind.

Ransom stood before you, nonchalant. Whispers flew around, taking the form of a vicious wind that swept across the ballroom until your mother was running towards you, scandalized. She took one look at you and staggered back, falling behind on the people who rushed forward to help.

“You – no. It couldn’t be.” She sobbed, holding a hand to her heart as if asking it to stay inside. You couldn’t say anything, shame written on every part of you. Ransom cleared his throat before looking at you softly, uncaring of others who gossiped when his lips pressed on your forehead.

“I plan to do right by Miss Y/N.” He announced, removing his coat and draping it around you. Pulling you out from the alcove, he put an arm around you and tugged you at his side. He glanced at you mother who was on the verge of fainting, a small tilt to his lips. “Madam, with your blessings, I would like to wed your daughter and make her an honest woman.”

You hid your face into his chest, not bothering to see your mother’s response. He had compromised you. He had ruined you. Ransom Drysdale didn’t take a no, and he fought hard for what he wanted.

“I hate you.” You whispered, heartbroken. Had he waited, you’d have said yes yourself. Ransom read the question in your gaze and stroked the curve of your cheek.

“I have done my waiting. No more of it. You’re mine now.”

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #soft!dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark!ransom x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #soft!dark ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale

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chloegong · 3 years

Text

that semi-AU romajuliette + benmars fic

i need a permanent place to store this after dumping a random google doc on twitter so here it is, the author writing fic for her own book because people gave me headcanons and they were too good not to make use of

the one where juliette and marshall go out for a night out on the town and roma and ben have to go along to supervise because one time they accidentally committed arson —headcanon from twitter user @leonidasvaldz

a semi AU where Benedikt and Marshall were hanging out with Roma and Juliette in those happy months R&J had together in 1922 before everything went wrong (aka you can take this as canon because it will fit the timeline but the characters won’t have memory of this in the actual published books)

Disclaimer: i wrote this in one go inside a starbucks please expect ao3 user chloegong and not Author Chloe Gong who does multiple rounds of edits on her books

Second Disclaimer: nobody go putting this on goodreads before someone on my publishing team kicks my ass (rightfully so, i’m on deadline rn and i’m writing fanfic instead of my real contracted manuscript)

Mandatory reminder that Our Violent Ends is available for preorder with all links here :)

It wasn’t supposed to happen again. And yet, somehow, Benedikt was watching fire curl around the side of the building, the roof beams giving a loud groan before shuddering and caving in on itself.

He turned a look onto Roma. “Your girlfriend is a maniac.”

Five hours earlier...

Juliette climbed in through the window of Roma’s bedroom, careful to hug the burlap bag close to her chest as she landed on his carpet. The howling wind outside drowned out some of the clinking, but the glass bottles were still making a racket no matter how carefully she hugged the bag. She had gone full throttle for tonight; when no one was watching and her relatives were downstairs crowing over a game of cards, she had snuck around and robbed the liquor cabinets at the Scarlet mansion quite generously. Now she dropped the bag onto Roma’s floor with a huff, brushing a curl of hair out of her eyes.

“Where’s Marshall?”

Roma looked up from where he was reading, putting his book down and rising from the bed smoothly.

“Well, hello.” He strode toward her, stopping before her with his arms crossed. “Lovely to see you too. You do know it is my bedroom you just snuck into, right?”

Juliette pretended to jump in surprise, looking around wildly. “Do you jest? Oh, bother. Let me climb back out and go find my real lover. Marshall! Where are—”

With a huff that seemed to double as a laugh, Roma grabbed her wrist before she could turn around and leave through the window again.

“You’re hilarious,” he said dryly.

“I know.” Juliette reached up with her free hand, clasping her cold fingers right onto his neck. Though her palm was freezing from the bitter temperatures outside, Roma hardly flinched, he only shrugged his shoulder up to keep her hand there. He couldn’t fight back the grin. For several seconds, the two of them only stood there, looking like a pair of idiots smiling at each other.

Then his door opened.

“Are we interrupting something?”

Marshall bounded into the room, throwing the door wide open. With a horrified expression, Benedikt hurried in after him and closed the door quickly, listening for movement on the other side.

“Yes, leave the door wide open,” Benedikt said. “While any White Flower strolling the corridor can peer in and see the Scarlet heir standing there in a silly coat.”

Juliette stepped away from Roma, peering down at herself as if she had forgotten what she put on. “I didn’t think it was that silly. It’s my disguise.”

“You do look a little like a housewife,” Marshall said, considering the coat.

“A fifteen-year-old housewife?”

“I suppose that is exactly why you look a little silly.”

Juliette pulled a face, but refrained from arguing further. She was here tonight because Marshall wanted to see the new Scarlet club that opened along Thibet Road, and she had promised she could sneak him in. Unfortunately, Marshall was bad at keeping secrets, and the worst at keeping secrets from Benedikt. The moment that Benedikt heard Marshall was planning on entering Scarlet territory, he had decided that he would come in accompaniment.

Juliette supposed it was only fair. Benedikt didn’t entirely trust her, but he was nice enough. He tolerated her presence and always kept an eye over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t spotted on their territory if she poked her head in to see Roma. While Juliette didn’t know much about Marshall either, he was far warmer than his best friend, and for the first time last week, they had even enjoyed an outing with just the two of them. Juliette Cai and Marshall Seo—out and about in the border territories on a quaint evening.

That outing had ended with accidental arson though, so it was rather possible that exacerbated Benedikt’s desire to play chaperone. And of course, if Benedikt was coming along, Roma wanted to tag along too.

The arson was hardly their fault, Juliette and Marshall had maintained when the Montagovs asked questions. What kind of person left a stack of hay out beside a bar? And what kind of hay was that easily flammable just from accidentally whacking one of the lanterns on the awning onto the stack?

“All right.” Juliette hauled the bag up again. “Are we ready to sneak onto Scarlet territory?”

“Absolutely not,” Benedikt muttered, strolling past her for Roma’s window. “But is that going to stop either of you?”

Before anyone could answer him, Benedikt had already hopped the small gap between windows, climbing into their neighboring building for their route out unspotted.

“Great!” Juliette said. She passed the bag to Roma so he could do the carrying. What was the point of converting a rival gang enemy into a lover if not to lug around her heavy things? “Glad we’re all so enthusiastic.”

Roma sighed, clambering onto his sill and making the climb too. “The things I do for you, dorogaya.”

Marshall hurried after him. “I would argue you’re actually doing this for me, dearest Roma!”

With a snort, Juliette climbed out last, and pulled the window after her.

The Scarlet club had been a bust. Of course, Benedikt had figured that would be the case from the get-go, especially if they were sneaking in at such a late hour to avoid being seen by anyone important in the Scarlet Gang. At least Juliette had provided good alcohol, and now he squinted at the label of the wine bottle under the street lamps while they walked, taking the smaller main roads along the periphery of the city.

Up ahead, Roma and Juliette were whispering to each other, though they didn’t sound like they were talking in full sentences. Those two always communicated in looks and gestures, swapping languages whenever they felt like it and ending up with some incoherent tangle of words that no one else could comprehend.

“Is there anything left in that?”

Benedikt glanced to his side, shaking the bottle to show Marshall. “One last swig. All yours.”

Marshall took the bottle. He put it to his lips and swung up, his head tipped to the sky and the line of his throat bared to the night. Benedikt shivered suddenly, a line of goosebumps rising at the back of his neck. The season had turned cold and the wind that blew onto his face was biting. He wrote off his shudder to the chill, to the temperature dropping with the longer they spent outside at such an hour.

Suddenly, Marshall was squinting into the distance. “Hey.” His call summoned Roma and Juliette’s attention from ahead, who both turned around to see what the matter was.

Marshall pointed to the dark shape off the end of the road. “Isn’t that the abandoned factory we lost to the Scarlets?”

“Is it?” Juliette asked, a sudden glee in her face.

“Why would you say that?” Roma bemoaned. He didn’t bother trying to stop her as Juliette hurried ahead, eager to explore the factory. “Look what you’ve done.”

But Marshall was wearing a similar expression, his eyes scanning the factory as they approached closer and closer. Wordlessly, he handed the bottle back to Benedikt, and though Benedikt’s head was spinning from the drink, he still recognized the exact face that Marshall made before he was going to get himself into trouble.

“Mars—”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” he insisted, tipping his chin forward. Juliette had disappeared into the factory. “You two be look-out. We wouldn’t want someone finding us here, right?”

Benedikt scarcely had a second to argue back. Marshall was already hurrying off.

Inside the factory, Juliette trailed her hands along the dark walls, her eyes wide. The machines looked strange in the moonlight, but stranger while sitting so idle. She was used to seeing rows and rows of workers in the daytime, trailing after her father as he ran inspections on the work of their trade partners. It might have been the wine in her system, but everything seemed to sway: sitting so inactive in movement that her eyes were imagining movement.

“Pst.”

Juliette almost jumped out of her skin.

“Christ,” she muttered, whirling around with a hand on her heart. Marshall slunk out from the shadows, both his hands in his pockets. “You gave me a fright.”

“Me? Frightening?” Marshall picked up a strange object on the table, inspected it for several seconds, then set it back down. “I am the least frightening person on the planet.”

“Yes, well, when it’s so dark, even a cuddly teddy bear would be terrifying.” Juliette felt around her dress. She thought she had tucked her lighter in here somewhere. There were little pockets sewn around the sleeves and armholes that she kept all her weapons, though if anyone asked, she would say she had the ability to materialize them out of thin air.

“Do you scream often at teddy bears?”

“Only when they sneak up on me.”

“I don’t see you screaming at Roma.”

“He gets a special pass. He’s only a teddy bear on the inside.”

Marshall snorted. He leaned down, trying to read the paper taped down to the table. At last, Juliette found her lighter—it was actually in her sock—and she brought it close, thumbing down the sparkwheel for a flame.

“Do not touch—for demolishing,” Marshall read under the new light. “Are the Scarlets going to build something new here?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Juliette replied. “My father doesn’t include me in his business meetings yet.”

“Hmm.” The shadows of the factory danced. Juliette thought she saw someone darting in her periphery, and she whirled around, but it was only Marshall’s shadow. Unfortunately, she had scared Marshall with her movement, and he bumped into her, asking, “What? What is it?”

The lighter flew out of her hands, landing on the paper.

“Nothing, nothing!” Juliette assured. “I was seeing things.”

But Marshall wasn’t convinced. He swiveled around. Peered hard into a corner. “Was it ghosts? I know this city has ghosts. All that death creates so many ghosts.”

Juliette tried to look where he was looking. She couldn’t see anything except the dark.

“There is no such thing as ghosts.”

“Just last week, I felt something walk by me and then there was no one when I looked. I swear to you, if it wasn’t ghosts then I—” Marshall stopped suddenly, turning around to look at the table. “Uh… is that supposed to happen?”

Juliette whirled around too. The whole table was on fire. “Oh, God.”

With a sudden pop, the fire sprung up and licked up to the walls. There had to be something sprayed inside the factory already to prepare for demolition, or else the flames would not be traveling with such intensive speed.

“Marshall,” Juliette said simply.

“Yes?”

She looked at him. “When the Montagovs ask, we blame the factory and say we have no idea what happened. Run!”

Benedikt and Roma kept watch in relative silence. Benedikt’s head was spinning, and his cousin looked like his head was doing the same if his swaying was any indication. Roma was humming softly under his breath, toeing the grass that grew around the abandoned factory.

Then, there was a sudden sound from inside, and the first tendrils of flames blew out from the topmost windows.

“Roma,” Benedikt said plainly. “I’m willing to bet my life savings that Juliette Cai just committed arson.”

Roma tilted his head up, his jaw dropping agape. At first, he could only stare at the growing fire, eating up the roof beams. Then, he said: “To be fair, it could have been Marshall.”

Benedikt threw his arms into the air. “Who looks more like the arson type, Juliette or Marshall?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“The answer was Juliette!”

Benedikt pinched the bridge of his nose. He was rapidly growing concerned, but before he could suggest they go in to search for the two, Juliette and Marshall ran out from the factory—laughing. The factory was burning down, and they were laughing, grasping at each other and spinning in circles right in front of the factory. They looked a sight: seconds away from collapsing atop of each other in utter delirium.

Benedikt turned to Roma. “Your girlfriend is a maniac.”

Roma was struggling to hold back his laugh watching her with Marshall. “I think she’s magnificent.”

Marshall stumbled, and Juliette squealed, reaching out to grab his arm before he could trip and land flat on his face. Benedikt almost—almost—let a smile slip. Before Roma could sight it and tease him for enjoying himself after all, he cleared his throat.

“What happened?” he bellowed.

“Faulty factory!” Marshall called back.

Benedikt shook his head, turning on his heel. They needed to get out of here before someone reported the fire.

“Come on!” he called back to the three. “Let’s go before the Municipal Police arrive.”

Upon Benedikt’s summons, Marshall left Juliette’s side and hurried to catch up. He slowed to a stroll once he was beside Benedikt, but Benedikt could feel Marshall watching him.

“What?” Benedikt asked. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his cousin was following too. Thankfully he was, though it was mostly Juliette hauling him along, their hands clasped together and swinging while Roma kept looking at the fire.

“I think you enjoyed yourself,” Marshall replied smugly. “After all that complaining about sneaking into Scarlet territory.”

Benedikt reached out and rapped his knuckles on Marshall’s skull. With a shriek, Marshall darted ahead.

“You want me to enjoy myself?” Benedikt shouted after him, breaking into a run too. “Come back then! Let me throttle you!”

FIN.

#these violent delights #romajuliette #benediktmarshall #how am i out here using my own book tags this feels weird FKJDHSDKJFH #should i tag my own name too #chloe gong #now i've gone and done it #bookblr #yabooks

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punemy-spotted · 3 years

Text

The Price You Pay

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, mentions of murder, unclear timeline, blackmail, unprotected sex, fingering (F!receiving), smut, esoteric references to past abuse, manipulation, Dark!Fic

Words: 5.2k (holy fuck?)

Summary: You need his help. He names his price.

Notes: This is for @stargazingfangirl18 and her incredible 5K Soft!Dark Challenge and I can't believe I wrote over 5k words for a oneshot, making this the longest piece I've ever written. I took a blend of prompts: Mob!AU; “When I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this;” and “That’s a big favor you’re asking for, I think you need to make it worth my while.”

And this was intended to be a oneshot but now I can't stop thinking about it so thanks Siri, I think this is now a part of my WIPs too! Your work is amazing and I had a blast being able to take part in this!

As usual, my work is 18+ ONLY, Minors DO NOT INTERACT

You went to him first.

You went to him, handed them your business card and I want to speak to Steve Rogers.

Honestly they almost threw you out with an extra hole in your head but then the man of the hour walked right in.

So now you’re here. Now you’re here, sitting across a gorgeous dining table with a ten-course meal laid out and honestly you’re surprised they didn’t tie your wrists to the arms of the chair while you watch him eat and take in the look of those baby blue eyes scanning you over.

He even brought you non-alcoholic rosé, when you said you didn’t drink.

So.

You wanted to talk to me?

Yeah, I do. Thought you’d just sit me in your office, have a consultation.

I like breaking bread with new friends. Have a nice dinner, get the wine flowing — of course, that’s not gonna loosen your tongue, but we’ll forgive it.

Oh. Cool, I like being forgiven.

He laughs at that one and the room, strumming with tension, snaps into amusement. So do you, cracking a half smile on dark red lips, before swallowing down the lump of anxiety threatening to break through and destroy everything. You need this. You need this and you can’t let anything — not your nervousness, not your morals, not him — stop you. You need this and it needs to be done and if this is what justice is in this fucking city then so be it.

Well, sweetness, you’ve got my attention. You want to talk business or pleasure?

That one makes you laugh, a little sharp and a little cruel, and the curling smirk on his face gets a little furrowed because he hears it too — pain.

It could be both, you say finally, picking up the glass of rosé-that-wasn’t, if your reputation is as real as they say it is.

He lifts a bite of cheesecake into his mouth and lets it melt on his tongue while he watches you, somewhere between impressed and incensed. You know the look — you saw it the last time he met you in court, but you weren’t there as allies then. Never thought you’d come to me, he admits finally, sounding halfway bemused at the idea, but you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Counsel?

You wince, or maybe smirk, eyes on the man before you.

It’s a game, a dance, a ruse, and the woman you thought you were thirteen months ago when you put four of Steve Rogers’s best men in jail for fifteen years — fifteen years longer than any District Attorney had ever managed to do before you, and you were just the rookie they handed a shit case to — is leagues different from the woman you are now, seated prim and proper in the lion’s den.

You’re not innocent. That’s not been your game for years — this life doesn’t leave room for innocence, it tears at you, leaves you tired and broken and ill.

Your colleagues learned to fear him a long time ago, the man before you. Captain America, leading the city, the country, the world into a new era of high tech crime all under his thumb. It’s a pretty shiny shield, the one that sits behind him, but mirrors are black on the other side and his soul is dark as coal.

You’re not an angel yourself, and this deal with the Devil isn’t for anyone but you.

I need someone taken care of.

So you come to me? I thought you were a lady of morals, Counsel.

Certain kinds of morals.

You can see him smile, see the way he raises his glass, the glimmer of malice and amusement in his eyes. So tell me. What’s the name?

You give it.

He’s not in the city, your target, but he will be. A Judge, an activist, real tough-on-crime-sweet-on-justice type of shit. You don’t tell him the reasons why, because those are yours, but you tell him the name. You tell him he’s a problem, you tell him he’s dangerous, you tell him you’ll pay to have him taken care of, you tell him you don’t want to practice in front of that black, black robe.

And he smiles like the Devil he is, watches you with a grin and drinks his whiskey in one last shot before slamming it down, Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

You said that when we met the first time.

He’s a hunter, you can see it in his eyes. That lion’s mane might be tamed right now but it won’t be for long and you’re playing with wild animals. The eyes on you are ice and daggers, daring you to do the one thing everyone in the office has been begging you not to do.

(Drop the charges, Rookie, the case is just to get your face in front of the judge.)

You upped the charges.

(Rookie, you don’t know what you’re dealing with, there’s other cases.)

You subpoenaed his phone records.

(Rookie, don’t make me drag you off this case!)

You won.

You had no witnesses and a jury you had to drag in from god-knows-where after you proved, over and over again, that he’d paid off the cohort in the courtroom. Finding people with nothing to lose and a desire to do their civic duty wasn’t harder than you thought — it was exactly as impossible as you expected.

But you did it.

That’s what you do, isn’t it? Push and push and fight, claw your fingers at the ledge and pull yourself up, you pay for your crimes in your blood, sweat and tears you pay for the things you could have done then and didn’tdo.

You pay.

And sometimes, that payment bounces back.

And when it was all said and done, when the closing statements were delivered, when the Jury came back out and the Judge — hands shaking, mouth agape, eyes wide — read out the verdict no one expected, you… didn’t feel any better, did you? There was no justice for you in that room, just the searing glare of ice-blue eyes and the burning of your steel spine.

Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

First words he said to you, while the courtroom emptied out and you stood there, facing the man you’d just made an enemy of with your briefcase in your hand and your eyes aflame.

I did my job.

Did you? Is that what you think your job is?

My job is justice, unflinching and blind, Mr. Rogers. I don’t care how much power you have or how afraid you leave this city, I’m going to do my job.

You could always let justice turn a blind eye.

Yeah. I could, but that wouldn’t make this any fun, would it? Thank you for the win, Mr. Rogers — I’m sure I won’t get many more.

You leave him with a smile on his face and the scent of your perfume in his memories.

He leaves you with the pride of victory in your bones and a reminder that your strife could be worth it.

One day.

How do you plan to fill that pit, the one you tossed the corpses of your old self into? The one you let them claw up out of, to haunt you? Remind you?

You’re digging your own grave and you know it, but you won’t let Steven Grant Rogers be the first one to toss a handful of dirt over your corpse.

But now here you are.

In his dining room, enjoying dessert and some sort of after-meal coffee. In need of him…

This might almost have been a date, if not for the topic of conversation.

So. You want a Judge taken out. What if he’s already on my payroll?

Why would you keep a dead man in your pocket?

You like the sound of his laugh, and you don’t even have the excuse of wine to fall back on when it warms your core. Don’t admit it though, don’t say it aloud, don’t let him get an in. Be smart, cross your legs tighter, keep your eyes on the prize.

You’re so close to the finish line.

That’s a big favor you’re asking for, Counsel, I think you need to make it worth my while.

Worth your while?

I’m not a charity. And since you put the guy I usually use to handle these things behind bars for a few years—

You know I can get him out too.

That’s not payment, that’s putting things right.

You take a drink. Steady on, girl.

I’m leaving the DA’s office.

That stops him.

Oh that stops him good, and he looks fascinated. Interested. You’ve said something he can use as leverage and it’s not just about a job. That smirk on his face is smug and his eyes are darker and he has to know the impact that look has.

Can’t falter, don’t falter, don’t give in.

Am I allowed to ask why?

No.

You’ve done your research. You just don’t know why you’re thinking about it now. Steven Grant Rogers, “Captain America,” leader of a crime family that had too many names to stamp out, bolstered by a mad scientist, a military man through-and-through who turned New York into his own private base against whatever stood against his way.

Get in his good graces and you’re set for life. Get in his good graces and you’re safe, you’re protected, you’re good.

Get on his bad side and you only make that mistake once.

There are no second chances in this game, and here you are, asking for one.

So what? You leave the DA’s office, you leave yourself open to me — you think leaving New York is going to be the thing that stops me, Counsel?

No.

Then what?

Breathe. Steady.

I know you gave me that win on purpose — you could have taken out my last jury cohort. This isn’t about the four men… and you know I’ll get them out. This is something else, but I’m not here to ask about what or why.

He falters just briefly, like he’s surprised you knew, but the crack in his mask smooths itself over as soon as it forms and he’s back to watching you, nodding along in silence while you breathe and watch him and keep talking.

But even then. I got four of your guys in prison. And I know how your organization works — I subpoenaed the documents, remember? Your lawyers are good, but they’re not used to people asking the right questions. You want someone to seal up the cracks you need someone who actually knows what to look for.

You have more than his attention, you have his interest, and now he’s leaning in a little. Imperceptibly, but enough. Scanning over you from across the table, like he’s thinking how you managed to get so impertinent in the face of the likes of him but that’s the thing — when the only thing you have left to lose is your life, you’ll risk everything.

So what are you offering?

Breathe. Don’t. Stammer.

Myself.

The chair scrapes and suddenly there’s the clicking of guns, aimed and ready until his hand rises up and he stops them and he’s stalking towards you.

This is the lion’s den, sweetness.

The stakes are higher and you ought to be braver and he’s got your chin in his hand before you have a chance to react, dragging you to your feet. Do you know what you’re offering me, Counsel? Low and hissed and hungry, like those perfect teeth might be sinking into your throat in the next moment.

Oh, you have no idea.

You get me. On your payroll — you know. The offer you sent me a year ago.

You think it’s still open?

If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have met with me.

The chuckle in your face makes your cheeks warm and you’re looking more flushed than you would like, the open shoulders of your dress suddenly feeling a lot more like a mistake the more you realize just what kind of meal he might make out of you tonight.

We might need to have a discussion about your workplace duties, Counsel.

You don’t notice the hand near your thigh until it’s too late, sliding up the soft fabric of your skirt until it’s squeezing your ass, until it’s jerking you towards him, until you’re pressed against his chest and the hand on your chin is now hooked around the back of your neck, thumb pushing your jaw until you’re forced to look at him. Won’t lie, when I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this, having your pretty little body in my arms,and you can look as indignant as you want but he’s got the upper hand and you only thought you were two steps ahead of him.

You think I haven’t thought about what it’d be like to put you in your place, Counsel? You’ve got a smart mouth — I wanna know what else it can do.

He doesn’t give you a chance to use that mouth to lash at him, lips sliding over yours, swallowing that indignant yelp with a punishing kiss. Nipping at the plushness of your lower lip until you open your mouth and yield to him with a sigh of reluctant surrender, let his tongue slide past that barrier for him to explore. He’s got his fingers wound through your hair, just a little too tight and whether the whimper in your chest is because of the pain or because of the want, he doesn’t care.

Knew you’d be sweet, Counsel… softly, when he pulls back to look at you, take a look at those love-swollen lips and your ruined lipstick, the pretty way you pant at him already, the heat burning your cheeks. Pay no attention to the slick warmth between your thighs, pay no attention to the way he makes you burn already, pay no attention to how your fingers have curled into the lapel of his coat to hold yourself steady, pay no attention to how you suddenly miss the pressure of his lips.

All that smart-talk and now you’re quiet, Counsel? F’I knew it just took a kiss to get you to shut up, I would’ve done that at trial, he’s purring in your ear, soft and sweet and you should push at his chest, so uncurl your fingers girl and push.

I didn’t say I was selling my body, there’s your harshness, and there he is, laughing at you again, the grip on your hair jerking your head back until you’re looking into those dagger-cold eyes again.

You don’t make the rules here, Counsel, I do, and you need me more than I need you. So if you want to make sure your Judge can’t start wreaking havoc on your career… you might want to get used to readjusting it for me. I promise I’ll make you feel nice, if you let me…

And if I don’t?

Then I take what I want and I don’t feel bad for not holding up my end of the bargain. Your choice, Counsel, you cum willingly and I’ll give you everything you want. Don’t, and it’ll hurt you more than it hurts me.

That’s not a threat, that’s a promise, and suddenly you’re more scared than you ever thought you’d be, wondering if you’ll need to sell another part of your soul to take him down after. How much of yourself will you put up as collateral to get justice for the wrongs you were never able to correct?

You’re afraid.

Oh sweetness, you’re afraid.

Here? Now?

No, Counsel, we’re gonna do this right, aren’t we? You wanna be in bed with me, I’ll take you to bed with me. Come on, say it. Say the word.

Say no. Say no, rail and fight, stamp your heels into the expensive leather of his shoes, jam your knee into the sensitive between his legs, scream and yell and tell him you will never let another man take advantage of you again to help you reach your goals. Do it. Do the thing you swore you would do the next time a man like him — men who think they can take anything from anyone, men who think they own the world and the women in it, men who think you aren’t strong enough to fight back — propositioned you just like this.

You’re selling your soul to get rid of a man just like this.

But that’s coiling heat in your core that wasn’t there the last time, was it? That’s want. That’s the realization that you like the way this predatory smile feels, that you like the way this one wants you. You’re not her, not scared and alone and helpless. You could fight back and run and maybe escape if you were lucky.

You could choose.

He’s let go of your hair to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers, soft and sweet, You gonna give me an answer, Counsel, or am I gonna have to take it?

Say something. Say no. Scream. Say no say no say no say— Yes.

It’s a whisper. A desperate, soft whisper. A helpless, lonely whisper. It’s enough.

He sweeps you around until you’re pressed with your back against his unyielding chest, feeling him flex with every movement, broad arm wrapped around your shoulders from the front. All of you are dismissed, and that’s when you remember there were others in the room with you. Others who just watched you concede to becoming Captain America’s newest plaything and the burn on your cheeks is more shame than lust. You pull at his arm briefly, futilely, earning a tighter hold for your efforts and a whispered don’t make me choke you, before you are half-walked, half-dragged out of the dining room.

The walk to his room is slow and agonizing as you’re pulled along, barely struggling but barely helping at the same time, tears sliding down your cheeks as you come to terms with what’s going to happen next — no one is going to save you tonight, no one’s going to interrupt and drag you out, this is your job and this is your place and here you are.

No one speaks. There’s no sound but the steady tap of your heels and his shoes on fine marble. Even your sobs are silent, even your breathing is muffled, until the stairs are traversed and the faintest click of a lock turning opens the door to the rest of your life.

You made a deal.

Time to pay.

Sit on the bed.

You move as if in a trance, and he watches your face, the hint of waterproof mascara failing to do its job, the smudged ruby red of your lipstick. Don’t give me that look, you knew what you were signing up for when you walked into this house, Counsel.

His hands are gentler than you’d expect, when he wipes away the streaks your tears leave down your pretty cheeks, coaxing you to look up at him, We’ll set ground rules later. Tonight? I wanna see if I can get that mouth of yours to beg for me.

It won’t, you snap without thinking, knifeblade sharp and cruel, ready for a fight again. He promised you that once, in a hiss you thought you’d misheard but no, you heard him just fine and now if he thinks he can quench your fire and have you pleading just because you sold your body for the prospect of revenge then he’s wrong.

Thing is, he laughs like that’s a challenge, and the hand holding your chin so gently is wrapped around your throat before you know it, silencing your voice with just the right application of pressure. I can do this all night, Counsel. Do you think you can last that long?

Fear. Anger. Indignation. You are fury made flesh and he is manipulating you with just the barest press of his palm and sliding over you, until you’re laid out there on soft sheets and he’s looming over you, splaying that big hand out and sliding it down your throat, over your chest, feeling the ruching of the fabric under his palm. You wrapped yourself up like a present for me, didn’t you sweetness?

The change in nickname isn’t lost on you but here you are, glaring up at him while he smiles so beatifically it leaves your blood boiling and your skin steadily warming. The rise and fall of your chest is hypnotic, every angry breath a swear you don’t utter, every inhale your protests dying in your throat. What can you say, what would you say, right now? There’s nothing that can change the way he looks at you, or the way his eyes flicker from ice to blue fire the more he takes stock of the pretty little thing he’s about to start sharing his bed with.

Fuck, you’re beautiful, that one shocks you, but not as much as the sudden rush of cold air when he tears the emerald green fabric of your dress down and reveals the soft swells of your breasts, nipples peaked from the sudden cold.

You don’t get much time to gasp, just something soft and strangled before he turns your voice to whimpers, wrapping lips around that pebbled tip and laving his tongue over sensitive flesh. Where are your words now, Counsel, while he threatens the softness of your chest with the scrape of his teeth, when he slides his hands over the round curve of your thighs and parts your legs so he can press himself between them, so he can press himselfagainst you? Where is the knife-dagger of your wit to protest each soft, suckling kiss to your skin, each press of his fingers like he could just squeeze his ownership of you into the plushness of your hips, into the sweet swell of your ass? What do you say to the dirty little thrust of his hips as he bucks with his own burning need, reminding you just how much this is for hispleasure as he will make it for yours.

You would, could, should push him off and instead what are you doing? Curling your fingers into the silk-smooth of his comforter, desperate to writhe out of your own skin away from the burning pressure between your thighs, the foreign, unfamiliar heat you suddenly feel like you might be craving.

Anyone ever touch you like this before me, Counsel?Warm breath splays across your skin when he questions you, eyes fixed on yours and he waits. Answer him, answer him, tell him he’s nothing, tell him you’ve had better, lie and destroy that ego, lie lie lie lie—

Nnnh—no.

He looks like you’ve just told him the best news of his life, eyes wide and blown with lust, Oh is that right? You’re saying no one’s ever touched you this good? Or just no one’s ever touched you at all?

You don’t have to answer. The furious blush on your cheeks? The way your eyes slide away from his? The way you writhe, trying to press your thighs together to relieve the pressure and finding the effort futile? If the man’s grin could get any wider, it would, right now. Oh sweetness, we’re going to have so much fun exploring your body together…

He pulls back just enough to take a look at you, already flushed and writhing and overwhelmed and if he could take a picture of this right now he would. He’ll save that for later though. Tonight? Tonight is just the two of you, and his hands are back to your skirt, pushing the tight fabric up over your round hips and revealing the lace of your panties… just before he rips them off, to the sound of your indignant yelp Steve!

You’re going to call me Captain, sweetness, we’re not close enough to use my name just yet.

No. No you’re not, and he’s not sure you’ll ever be — he rather likes the idea of hearing you whimper out his title when he gets you desperate and wanting.

He touches, slow and steady, watching you try to jerk away and tutting at you when you do, fingers at your delicate nerves like an assault on your pleasure. Bite your lip, bite back the moans, whine at him like he’s wounded you, You’re so wet, sweetness, you’re so desperate for me aren’t you, as he palms his cock to relieve the pressure on himself. You’re going to beg before he does and he’s patient, he’ll last the night.

St-stop it, it’s too— he shushes you ahtahtaht and rests his free hand on your mound, holding you down so his probing, inspecting fingers can take stock of the velveteen plushness of your delicate cunt. It’s too much, too much and you want to scream the moment he presses one finger into you, already overwhelmed, already so tightly wound the barest touches are unraveling you steadily.

You’re such a pretty thing, all desperate and needy, sweetness. You wanna cum already, don’t you? So busy, never gave anyone the chance to fuck that stuck-up bitch right out of you, did they? It’s almost pitying, isn’t it, the way he talks, hums at you while you’re reduced to a whining, whimpering mess so soon, so desperate for the release he’s on the edge of denying you, feeling you flexing around his finger and then the second leaping jolt of your body when another joins the inspection. Taking careful stock of the pretty cunt he owns now, and he’s careful to curl his fingers just right as he seeks the spot to hammer just to get you to scream.

You don’t, not yet, but that’s okay too, because he sees the way you take desperate hold of the sheets, the way your eyes roll backwards just slightly, the way you strain against his heavy hand to arch your back. Gotta tell you, sweetness, I imagined you under me a thousand and one ways but this one, right now? Tops the list. You ready to beg for me?

Do it. Do it and end your pleasurable torment. Do it and be released from the pressure, the coiling want. Surrender to him. Let him have you.

The white hot rush of your orgasm is not unexpected to him, his curling, cruel fingers having found the sweetness of your g-spot, but — you, too busy climbing the ranks to think of your own pleasure, too busy demanding your due from an unjust world explore your own warmth beyond that of a memory of a college hookup you would rather forget — you left breathless and wanton in the heat of the explosion he draws out of you, mewling something desperate and pleading against your own will and the song of it fills his ears like it’s all he’s ever wanted. There it is, and I thought we’d be here all night. A thumb flickers over the nerves at your entrance and you practically jump, something between a yelp and a moan escaping your lips.

First one’s just a treat, sweetness. Now on, you cum when I say you do, understand?

You nod.

Oh you nod, and you are lost, here and now. Sensitive and broken and there is so little of that steel spine here, writhing in his sheets and ohyou don’t know the things you do to him.

Think you can go again, sweetness? He’s purring, smug, twisting fingers stretching you slowly, muttering under his breath about how fucking tight you are around his fingers, how good you’re going to feel for him, and the smugness on his face is slowly fading into a dark consternation, brows furrowed like he’s somehow angry at you for being plush and delicate and fuckable.

You’re almost begging him to stop, and yet the pressure is building again, the twisting, coiling heat that leaves you breathless and mewling and he looks like he might be trying to immortalize this moment forever. Say it, sweetness. Say you need me. Beg me for my cock.

That’s it.

That’s what you need to, you need to beg, you need to give in. No more fighting, no more arguing no more —

Please…

Please what, sweetness, come on now. You got a way with words. The snarl is so barely contained.

Please, Captain, please just…

What do you need, sweetness? The fingers are relentless, the buzz in your nerves is overwhelming, you can barely even hear yourself talk, much less him.

Please just fuck me, Captain, I need your cock! It’s hurried and it’s crude and it’s desperate and it’s exactly what he wants as just another wall crumbles and you fall off your pedestal right into his arms.

He’s barely able to resist the buck of his hips, the need to be inside you, the knowledge that you are soft and velvet and you could be all over his senses just like this.

When did he free his cock? You don’t know, you just know it’s practically salvation when he sinks into you, when he fills you like you’ve been desperate for and Oh sweetness…pours from his lips just as you hiss out something like praise right back at him.

You’re so full and he’s so gentle, at first, like you’re made of crystal in his arms, like the slow shifting of his hips might have you shattering underneath him if he’s not careful. Cradling you, even, sliding your legs around his narrow hips as he leans in and takes a hungry kiss from your wanting, whimpering mouth.

Love this look on you, all wrapped around me, whispered low and slow into your ear, sweetness you have no idea how good you look…

Melt into those compliments, melt into him, because the way he’s holding you is divine and you can feel him so deep in you it’s making your head spin. When did your arms end up around him? When did you start clinging to him like an anchor, start winding your fingers through his hair, start leaving the marks of your nails on his back to the sound of his own needy groaning?

He noses your cheek and leaves a mark of ownership on your neck with hungry lips, knowing you’ll bruise a beautiful flower right over your pulsebeat and continuing the steady assault on your nerves, cunt-first.

Harder. Faster. More.

And oh, sweetness, you do shatter.

You shatter all around him, you shatter into something divine and rapturous, full of him and filled with him and he cums so deep inside you as you do, still fucking you through your joined climax, hips rutting and breath hitching and nearly furious at you for the way his vision whites out too, the way he feels like he can Never get enough and so he hisses that at you like an accusation while his thoughts reorient back to reality, back to smugness, back to the control you took from him while he tried to strip you of yours.

In the end, as he pulls away from you and sinks to the side of you, watching your sweet expression as you return to the reality of your new situation, he is satisfied… thoroughly.

Oh yeah, I think we can make this a working relationship, Counsel.

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #steve rogers x reader #mob!au #mob!steve #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #dark!fic #dark captain america #captain america #writing challenge

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

Please could you write one with Grealish where you’re a Chelsea fan so refuse to wear a Villa shirt with his name on, and for bants Mount gets you a Chelsea shirt with his name and Jack gets all pouty?

omg I love this idea!! gets very smutty at the end ;) enjoy!

Villa Boy

A love for Chelsea had been something you adapted and grew to into as a young girl. Your dad was never entirely sure how to bond with his only daughter and your mother told him just to include you in what he loved. And so came your season pass with a little lanyard that still hung proudly in your childhood room right next to a shirt mounted in a glass photo frame with Frank Lampard's signature scrawled along the eight on the back.

It was actually how you met Jack in the first place, which is the only one single reason that he has for liking your club affiliation. Otherwise, it was one of the most annoying things in his world. It was often a source of teasing and taunting, you saying your team was better than his and him swaggering home and gloating for weeks when Aston Villa take a win over Chelsea. It was the bane of his life that he couldn't get you into that claret and blue. Not even to sleep in or wear around the house, you just would not dare put it on.

"I would feel my dad's shame emanate through the walls, maybe it would kill him. And then I'd lose every morsel of self respect I have, so not a chance." You'd snort, not even giving him a window for more persuasion.

His England shirt? that was fair game. You'd wear that with pride, to the shops, round the house, walking the dog and especially at his games but there was just absolutely no chance of getting you into his Villa shirt.

Though Jack may never admit it, it was one of his biggest wants. Seeing you in his England short was nothing short revolutionary - he'd said. It only made him want to see you in the Villa shirt more. That was his childhood club, getting to captain that was one of his biggest achievements and while he knew you were absolutely proud of him. You were the most proud and encouraging person in his life and there were no ifs buts or maybes in that.

But my god he knew you'd look fit in that claret and blue.

No matter how much it annoyed him, he wouldn't get you out of the darker blue home jersey of your favourite club no matter what he did. It was something he had come to accept over the course of your relationship, it was by and large fine.

Until that jersey said someone else's name across the back.

"Awh come on!" He yelps, mouth dropped open as you emerge into the kitchen with your toothbrush hanging out your mouth and only one shoe on. Jack knows you slept in because he switched off your alarm last night in hopes you'd miss the game, but Jack dropped a bowl when he tripped over the dog and woke you up anyway.

You going to the Villa v Chelsea game in a Chelsea shirt was bad enough, but now he's just clocked something that's sent his mind firing a mile a minute.

MOUNT

Not a fucking chance.

"Oi, you!" He calls out, throwing himself off the chair at the kitchen island, his feet fumbling over one another to get after you as quickly as possible. "What's up, Jack?" You hum innocently, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you stand in the doorway shoving on your other shoe. "Is something the matter?"

Jack gawks, opening and closing his mouth awaiting words to find his frazzled brain. "Yes!" He squeaks, a tone you'd never heard from a man before, let along your very deep voiced man. "There's no way that you're- what are you doing? Come back." He groans, his feet shuffling after you as you walk back through the house to find your car keys. "We're going to be late if you don't hurry up." You note sweetly, Jack drops his jaw. "We're not going anywhere until-"

"Hi Mason, yeah I got it. Fits like glove actually. Yeah, we're just leaving now. I'll meet you in the car park."

Jack's face was literally priceless. His agape, eye's wild, brows furrowed. A pout settles itself firmly into his lips the second he sits in the car with his arms folded over his chest like a toddler. You have to physically stifle a laugh at him as you beam the entire drive to Villa Park.

"M' gonna burn that." He states. You cast him a glance out the corner of your eye as you pull into the players parking. A snigger escapes despite your very best efforts and Jack resumes his frontward glare at the dashboard with his lips in a firm line. "Gonna win this game, burn that shirt and knock Mount flat."

You know he's not being serious about Mason. He's very fond of the player when they're on the same side. But you had become very close friends with him through the mutual love for the club he plays at and Jack absolutely despised that. He wasn't the kind to be bothered by your friends even to a moderate degree and even here he trusted you, he just fucking hated the concept of another club and another mans name over your back. It ticked him right off.

You know this very well. You knew what you were getting into the second Mason handed you that dark blue shirt. It was all fun and games really. You loved the club but you only wore the Mount shirt to get under Jack's skin. You thought it might even throw off his game a little.

The second he stormed onto the pitch and scored a goal 5 minutes into the game, you figured that might not be the case.

Every opportunity, every goal, every opening and every single tackle, Jack turned to you. He turned to you with fire in those brown eyes, sending you a cheeky wink. His passion, the very serious look etched onto his features and the way he was looking at you was fuelling a very different kind of fire in you.

Jack played the whole 90 minutes and he took Mason Mount down at every single given opportunity in a careful way that just evaded him getting a yellow card. He finished hot, sweaty and with a man of the match trophy for 2 goals and one assist with a majority of the game spent with the ball at his feet.

The 3 nil win should have been a lot more disappointing that it was, but he just looked so fucking good. The sweat stuck his hair to his temples, his muscles tight and protruding through exertion as he walks off the field after shaking every hand.

You're standing just outside the tunnel with Mason and John McGinn standing with you, talking about the match mostly. John makes a joke about you wearing that top more often, seems to be a good luck charm for Villa even if it's the opposing team. Mason scoffs and says; "More like an angry boyfriend wants to murder me charm."

That's when Jack appears and John barely gets his mouth open to greet him before Jack shoulders through the two footballers. His mouth finds your immediately. Hot, passionate, fiery and filled with his dominance.

He pulls back and grabs onto your hand tightly with his back to the two midfielders. Jack twists his body round with a daggering glare.

"Nobody," Jack growls, "fucks around with girl."

His tone, deep and gravelly, only serves to dampen your panties further in a way that makes your clench your legs together.

Jack's done with pouting, the teasing can resume later. For now, he's dragging you by the hand to a darkened conference room. Hiking you up his body before setting you on the table that sits at a miraculously perfect height that places you right against his bulge.

He wastes no time whatsoever ripping down your leggings and panties, his fingers finding you immediately to swirl pressured motions around your sensitive clit. "Ahh, who's got you moaning like that baby?" He rumbles, words vibrating through your lips.

"You Jack, oh god, you!" You pant as his fingers leave you feeling empty and needy. Jack easily tugs down his shorts and pulls himself out of his boxers to line up with your entrance. His victory sex is hot always, but usually there was a dry spell after a Villa v Chelsea game, so it had never been this hot.

"And who am I?" He grunts, pushing himself into you to hear your shuddering squeak of pleasure. He lays you down over the table, hands following you under your shirt to carefully and tentatively swirl his fingers over your nipples from under your bra. "Oh god, Jack," you move your hands to the hem of the blue shirt to lift it over your head, but Jack's hands stop them before you have the chance.

"No, no, no," he chastises with a smirk, "Want to fuck you in their colours," He continues to thrust roughly into you with each heavy breath, mouth and squeak that escapes you only spurring him on. "Want to fuck you with his name on your back, baby. Remind you who you belong to."

You shudder in pleasure with the feeling of his lips attaching to your neck, letting out a shaky, heavy breath as he snakes a hand down between you to swirl those circles around your more pleasureful spot once again. He knows the intricate details of your body better than any man ever has and he always ensures he uses it to his advantage, but nothing like today. His lips on the sweet spot of your neck, hitting and stretching you perfect between your legs with masterful work of his fingers pushing you closer and closer with each second that passed.

"Fuck , I'm so close-"

"Who's making you feel so good, baby?" He pants, skin slapping and heavy breathing echoing around the room. "You, Jack. You!"

"Not a Chelsea boy eh?" He grunts, teeth nibbling down over your collarbone. "Not a Chelsea boy baby is it?" He reiterates, pairing the movements of his hand only until you snap open your eyes again, "No Jack, it's all you. not a- oh god!"

Jack breathes a chuckle into your ear with an appreciative hum to follow.

"Yeah, Villa Captain isn't it? You're screaming out for a Villa boy, ain't ya?" He coaxes, edging you further and further as he speeds up to a pace he's never quite hit you with before. The adrenaline of the match, the irritation of that blue jersey and the passion for the win colliding to give him an energy he's never yet had. Watching your eyes roll beneath him wearing that stupid blue entices him on, only makes him want to pleasure you more if even possible. "Yes! Yes, I am, oh god just don't stop."

"Go on then," he encourages, voice deep in your ear. "Come undone for the Villa Captain baby."

He didn't have to tell you twice, that was for sure. The sight of your eyes fluttering, the feeling of you clenching around him with a steam of, "Fuck yes Jack!" sends him tumbling over the edge of his orgasm right after you, a strangle cry out of your name as it wracks through him.

When he lays down beside you in the table that very surpassingly withstood the pace of your antics, you're both breathless and shining with sweat. Your legs feel like jelly as you still throb from the pleasure. Jack turns his head to you with a lazy smirk, brushing some hair off your forehead as you turn to look at him.

"Well, I certainly do love a Villa boy."

#jack grealish smut #jack grealish prompt #jack grealish imagines #jack grealish x reader #jack grealish imagine #england national team imagine #england national team #footballer fics #football fics #footie fics

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rere-the-writer · 3 years

Text

Title- 'To win her back'

A part two to this request

a part three - ????

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Protective Mikaelsons

You were surprisingly happy after a good cry when the Mikaelsons left. You thought over Elijah's words wondering if you could truly forgive them. You stood huffing as Ryan rush to your side worry written over his face.

"You okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine I am just tired." You tell him as Ryan smiled softly taking you to bed. Marcel thought it would be a good time to visit you a month after your lovers found you.

"So all that is from them?" Marcel asked taking the cup of tea from you as you sat down looking at the boxes. Since the Originals found you and did as you asked it didn't stop them from sending gifts and things for your baby. Rebekah sent baby clothes, Kol sent toys, Klaus would send paintings he did while Elijah began paying your bills not trusting Ryan to keep you living comfortable.

"Yes. Their way of apologizing, showering me with gifts." You said having not open any of them though you couldn't stop Elijah from paying the bills.

"How is the little guy?"

"Heathly, him and his twin brother." You tell your best friend watching him light up touching your belly smiling.

"Wow twins. That amazing."

"It is....how are they?" You couldn't help but ask as Marcel leaned back thinking how things were back in New Orleans. Things were tense between the Mikaelsons and Hayley as they blamed themselves for you leaving and Hayley was trying to get them to let you go.

"Well they are tensed with Hayley and a little jealous that you let Freya visit." Marcel tells you as you sighed it was true you only allowed Freya to come up to see you so the only way your lovers knew that you were okay was though her and Marcel.

"Tense with Hayley? Why?"

"Well other than blaming themselves for you leaving, they also blame Hayley." Marcel says as you thought over what he said. You knew from what Freya told how they were doing Klaus dosen't really leave his art studio, Rebekah and Kol sleeps in your bedroom and Elijah ignores Hayley spending his time looking though your photo album.

"I see. Well I got a doctor's appointment."

"Right. See you again soon." Marcel said hugging you walking out with you.

"Yeah Mar."

You huffed feeling annoyed seeing dozen red roses on your door and picked the box. You reading the card seeing it was from Kol and you put the roses in a vase while doing so you noticed two empty glasses of wine.

"What the?" You muttered walking seeing pair of women panties that you knew wasn't yours. You realize what was happening as you marched to the the bedroom finding Ryan in bed with his secretary.

"RYAN! Are you fucking kidding me!" You shouted surprising the lawyer and his secretary. You eyes narrowed seeing the gorgeous necklace around the woman's necklace and realized it was one that Rebekah sent as an apology.

"Gifting her my jewelry?!" You shouted at him throwing a picture frame at him as the secretary ylep.

"Baby listen it was an accident."

"An accident?! Get the fuck out of my home and you take my jewelry off!"

"Baby! I'll be out on the street!" Ryan said giving you a puppy dog look as the secretary scrabble to take the jewelry off and got dress. You crossed your arms glaring at Ryan who look pathetic pleading for you to not throw him out.

Elijah was walking down stairs knowing how quiet it was with Klaus up in his art studio, Kol spending all his time with Freya and Rebekah had yet to really leave your bedroom. Hayley came in stopping seeing Elijah and made an attempt to talk to the Original as he had been cold to everyone that wasn't family.

"Elijah, you can't keep ignoring me."

"What do want me to do Hayley? Come running to you? Seek comfort from the one thing that reminds me of the pain I cause to the woman I truly loved?"

"Wow. I hope you say it to her face." Elijah looked up seeing you standing there with a baby sling that held twins. Elijah's breathing hitched finding you just gorgeous dressed in a long sundress hair cut short.

"Y/N?" Elijah whispered finding it hard to believe you were standing there as Rebekah had heard Elijah say your name with Klaus and Kol.

"You guys act like you have seen a ghost." You teased as Rebekah reached you first worried you'll pull away but was glad you let her hug you.

"Are you back for good?"

"I sure hope so because I didn't drive a truck load of stuff for nothing." You said noticing how nervous they were around you as if it was your first night with them all over again.

"You came back to us." Elijah said watching you being lead to the den by Rebekah. They followed after as you frowned noticing the dust on things as you took a good look at your lovers.

Marcel and Freya wasn't kidding when they told you that the others weren't doing well. Each of them looked as if they weren't really feeding, Elijah wasn't dressed in a clean suit, Rebekah looked a bit duller, Klaus looked scruffy with paint on his clothes and Kol was just as dull as Rebekah.

"Well I thought seven months in your mistake was enough." You say sitting down with Rebekah sitting next to you. They looked seeing the twin boys that was asleep.

"So you came back to throw it their faces that you are happier."

"No Hayley. Truthfully I missed you all so I came home it would be unfair to keep Oilver and Henrik from their family." You said as they stared and Elijah swallowed walking over kneeling letting Kol take the other side of you and Klaus stood behind you.

"You named one of our boys after our little brother?"

"Yeah to honor Henrik." You say softly letting them get a better look at the sleeping boys. Hayley crossed her arms staring at you.

"So what hoping to move back in like nothing happened?"

"No. I bought the town house across the street. I forgive them but I am not ready to move back in." You tell Hayley as Oliver woke whining getting your attention. You had Rebekah take a still sleeping Henrik as you fed Oilver.

"How old are they?"

"A month in a half." You answered Kol watching Oliver latch onto you to eat. Elijah was in awe staring at his sons noticed how much Oliver and Henrik looked like him but he was glad they had your nose.

"Baby, as much as we would love for you move back in if there was one thing we learned was. Let you do what you need."

"I am not going to keep the boys from you all unlike some people but I need time before we jump back into this."

"Take all the time you need love. We can wait a thousand years if needed." Klaus says softly rubbing your shoulders. They were happy you let them touch you and was every willing to go as slow as you wanted.

"You want to hold him, Elijah?" You asked when Oilver was done and Kol fix you up. Elijah held his arms out as you placed the wake Oilver in his arms.

"Henrik is smaller than his brother." Rebekah said handing you the sleeping baby as you smiled softly.

"There was a bit of trouble during childbirth. I mean Hen is heathly he'll be fine." You tell them noticing the worry on their faces.

"Are you guys really okay with her just coming back?! After all the pain she put you all in?" Hayley walking in as you stood up getting the twins comfortable in the sling.

"Clearly you guys need to work things out with Hayley. I'll be across the street." You said walking out missing the glares the Mikaelsons gave Hayley. Marcel helped you bring your things inside with Josh and Davina.

"They are cute." Davina said watching over Henrik and Oilver who were wake in baby swings. You smiled opening boxes looking at your boys.

"Yeah they sure got the cute Mikaelson baby genes." You tell Davina as Josh and Marcel brought in the last of the boxes.

"I'm glad you're back. Me and Josh missed you."

"You guys could have visited with Marcel."

"Yeah but someone had to make sure the Mikaelsons take care of themselves."

"Was it really that bad?" You asked looking at them as Davina sighed.

"I am not going to lie to you. Yes it was Y/N, they were a mess. Marcel had to watch over the city."

"Hell they barely let Hayley in the Abattoir unless she was dropping Hope off." Josh tells you as you looked out the window looking across the way staring at the Abattoir.

"Freya never told me how bad it was."

"Because we agreed that you should come back home on your own not because of guilt." Marcel tells you as you looked at them while you were glad that they wanted you to come back on your own. You wished they told you how they really were doing.

Later that evening Klaus stopped by with Elijah and you let them in as they noticed you were in one of Klaus's old shirts and sweatpants.

"Unpacking love?"

"Yeah if you guys didn't send so much I wouldn't be still unpacking." You tease lightly as Klaus smirked while Elijah knelt down in front of the boys. Oliver was reaching for Elijah's hand and he let the boy grab his hand.

"Where is Kol and Rebekah?"

"Getting you dinner." Klaus said moving to help you unpack while Elijah was playing with boys.

"Where is Ryan?"

"Back in New York. Caught him sleeping with his secretary."

"Sorry to hear the love." Klaus says rubbing your back as you chuckled leaning into him.

"It's okay. Ryan wasn't you guys...he didn't have that same warmth."

"We brought food my beautiful righteous Queen." Kol said making you laugh which made the babies laugh. The Mikaelsons were happy to hear your laughter again and this time they were going to do their best to be sure you felt loved as they weren't going to let you go this time.

#rere's stories #mikaelson family x reader #mikaelson family fluff #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader

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