#hes cheekbones are fucking CRIMINAL

[bertolts]

" Hello Luv... "

Amidst my BG3 brainrot, Ive managed to binge BtVS and fall in love with another bratty white haired tragic vampire. Have some glorious Spike portraiture.

#spike #spike btvs #william the bloody #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #my art #hes cheekbones are fucking CRIMINAL #how dare he be so cute like wtf

[dragonfly0808]

So my Batfamily brain rot is back (not that it ever really left) and I just had a thought like…

If you’re a henchman/criminal in Gotham, seeing your life flash past your eyes is gonna be a somewhat regular occurance but… what if like… the thing that truly made a henchman’s heart fall to his ass was when they hit Robin just a little too hard and this 10 year old kid just starts crying and goes ‘Daaaaaadddd!’

That’s the moment when they truly think they’re going to die because said dad, the kid is calling for is a 6’6 demon from hell who’s all muscle and shadows and vengance and a lot of Gotham still thinks he’s a cryptid

The henchmen all drop their guns and try to calm the kid down but it’s over in 5 seconds flat. Batman breaks several bones before speaking to Robin in the softest voice they’ve ever heard him use and the criminal world, who was already a bit hesitant to fight a kid have even more reason to take it just a little easy on Robin.

And like, I can picture different reactions with every Robin.

Like, for Dick, he’s ten and we all know he was the most violent Robin second only to Damian so maybe when he’s ten or eleven and has calmed down a little, a henchback who still remembers what a little shit he used to be decides to get back at Robin, slips on a pair of brass knuckles and BAM

And then, little Dick just stares for a moment in shock, cheek already starting to bruise, the criminals he’d been fighting all stay still because it was a nasty punch and then…

“Daaaaad!!!” He cries out in a whiny voice that reminds them that Robin really is just a kid and it all clicks into place.

Even Bruce wasn’t expecting that, Dick has just started calling him dad and he still isn’t used to being called that so to hear his kid calling for him in the moment where he is startled and hurt and a little scared… the henchmen don’t even have time to react and they wake up in the hospital with concussions and maybe a few broken bones.

It doesn’t take Dick long to calm down, it was mostly that the hit from a random henchmen really startled him and got him right in the cheekbone. But Bruce still finishes patrol early and Dick still hides under Bruce’s cape all the way to the Batmobile.

Then comes Jason and Jason was such a sweet kid, I headcannon he was the one that called Bruce dad the most often while being Robin. So one night during patrol maybe he finds himself fighting Penguin or Two-Face and it’s been a long night and he has an exam the following day and Bruce is fighting another villain at the other side of the warehouse

The point is, the henchmen and Two-Face start landing hits on eleven year old Jason in his gut and at some point he loses sight of Batman fighting on the other side of the room. Jason gets scared because he’s never really fought without Batman and while he knows that Bruce is still in the warehouse, he can’t see him and the handle of a gun hits the back of his ankle and he falls and he sees Two-Face or Penguin or one of the henchmen getting ready to grab the front of his uniform and beat him up and…

“Daaaaddd!”

The criminals freeze for a moment. They’ve heard the stories of what happened the last time a Robin called scared for dad.

They’re fucked.

They all drop their guns and try to get Jason to calm down, but he’s crying just a little bit and calls again, his voice breaking and despite having been at the other side of the warehouse just a second ago, Bruce somehow drops from the ceiling and it’s over before the criminals can keep pleading with Robin to calm down.

Jason tries to apologize for ‘acting like a baby’ but Bruce is having none of it and carries him back to the Batmobile and Jason is happy to just hide his face in Bruce’s cape because he knows his dad will always be there to save him.

Then comes Tim.

And Tim gets found out while doing reconnisance and somehow he finds himself face to face with Bane who manages to wrench away his bo staff and Tim is just eleven and he is scared because Bane doesn’t look like he’s going to hold back

All Tim knows is that the crack he hears must surely be his ribs either cracking or breaking and he can’t breath and he can only muster enough air for a single word… and he calls for his dad through tears and fear

And at this point… at this point Batman has already lost a Robin, Tim may not be his legally but he is his son just as much as Jason was

Bane spends a month in the ICU

Tim is embarrased that he reacted like that. He thinks it makes him less of a Robin to called scared for Batman… for dad.

So Bruce tells him of the other two times it happened. It’s one of the first times he’s spoken about Jason to Tim so bluntly.

Then comes Stephanie.

Stephanie never calls Bruce dad when she’s Robin. She’s not his daughter and he’s not her dad. They’re not sure what exactly they are to one another.

As far as Bruce knows, Stephanie’s version of Robin never called out to him when she was scared.

What he doesn’t know is that it did happen. Just once

It was the last time she was Robin. When Black Mask had her and she thought she was going to die

At some point while bleeding and feeling nauseous and so scared she could barely hear anything that wasn’t her own heart beating wildly against her chest… she called for dad. Not for Arthur Brown, but for Bruce

Black Mask laughed at her

Stephanie never tells Bruce

And finally… Damian

Now, we know Damian would probably never be startled enough to call for Bruce out of instinct, so I can see 2 scenarios in which this could happen.

First, he sees another kid do it. He sees a kid close to his own age laughing and playing, then tripping and staying quiet for a split second before crying out for mom and dad and he just… assumes that’s something kids do when scared and hurt and startled and does it mostly in an attempt to be a little more ‘normal’

Or, my favorite scenario… he hears of the other times it has happened. He overhears maybe Dick remind Jason of what Bruce did when Jason called out to dad as Robin. Tim maybe jokes that a Robin calling for dad is still the villains’ greatest fear

So Damian stores that knowledge away as a battle strategy just in case he ever needs it… and maybe a small part of him wants to put it to the test, to see if his father would protect him as brutally as he’s protected the Robins before him

So some random night during patrol, he’s up against several henchmen, a few of them grab him from behind, trying to hold him down. Damian is fighting against them when one of them swings a cylinder of metal that Damian thinks might’ve been meant for the plumbing and…

The henchman breaks Damian’s nose, there’s blood dripping down his chin and staining his uniform

Now… it is most certainly not the first time he’s broken something, he’s more than used to the pain, in fact, he barely feels it. However, it gives him a chance to put his little theory to the test

And so Damian allows himself to sound like the ten year old that he is and in a whiny, teary voice, goes… “Babaaaaa!” (Bonus points if it’s the first or second time he’s called Bruce baba instead of father)

What Damian didn’t take into account though, is that Batman and Robin aren’t the only ones on patrol that night. They made a big bust. The biggest part of the operation was over but they were still fighting a few stragglers. The whole fucking family is here.

And they all hear his cry.

Damian doesn’t think he’s ever seen a fight end so quickly. The henchmen only have a split-second of surprise before vanishing, being tackled or shot or having knives buried on their shoulders by his siblings.

The one that actually broke Damian’s nose is being beaten up by Nightwing, Damian doesn’t think he’s ever seen Grayson so angry.

A shadow kneels in front of him, father. Baba. He’s checking Damian and Todd is right at his side, both speaking in hushed tones, checking his injuries and wiping the tears that usually came with a broken nose.

And now… Damian is used to his father and Grayson treating him like a child, trying to be as soft as they can with him. Even Cain does it to some extent.

But… having Drake wrap an arm around him, calling him baby when knocking out one of the criminals that had hurt him ‘that’s my fucking baby brother!’ and continue to hold him later into the night on the couch, having Brown willingly give up all the snacks she keeps in her utility belt and promise to take him to Batburger the following day for milkshakes because he was ‘a champ’. And Thomas wraps his favorite blanket around Damian while they’re fixing him up.

Todd decides to stay the night at the manor. Which he never does. They all decide to spend the night at the manor when Damian still sniffles on the Batmobile and they have breakfast all of them together. Which Damian isn’t sure has ever happened before and Cain gets Alfred to make pancakes with chocolate chips instead of blueberries.

They call him baby in hushed whispers but for once, it doesn’t bother him even though it really should

But most of all, Bruce refuses to let him go for a good five minutes after he first cries for him. Smoothing down his hair and whispering that it’ll be okay and just being soft in a way Damian has never seen before.

He sleeps between his Baba and Grayson and he knows that Todd and Drake and Cain check in on them at least twice in the night for some reason.

And he realizes it’s… it’s nice. Maybe this really could be an effective battle strategy to be employed again someday.

#batman #batfam #batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batfamily headcanons #batkids #Robins

[astayinwonderland]

"After all, you're my wife." | Choi San

pairings: san x f.reader

genre: smut | fluff (if you squint)| +18 minors DNI

this is a mix between a poll and a request by @elfemi

summary: you marry san to make an alliance, and the agreement includes to live separate lives, but both of you seem to want each other (mafia!au)

word count: 3.4k

warnings: dom!san, sub!reader, san calls you his little pet, cursing, degrading, praising, unprotected sex (pls no), cum play, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, mentions of violence (not towards reader) and drugs -- lmk if I forgot anything

Enjoy! (;

There are two things you have very clear. Your dad is dead and you fucking hate Choi San. Inheriting the position of mafia leader was your birthright, your dad raised you to be that woman. However, not everyone wants to see a woman in such a powerful position, to their misfortune, you were the late mafia boss’s only child. 

When your father fell ill, you knew it was time to get your position as leader and boss secure. That meant allying with someone rich and powerful. You were surprised that all eligible bachelors were too old, too young, or not powerful enough. 

Theo was standing behind you as your eyes scanned the guests your dad’s most trusted assistant invited for a ‘get-together and mingle with the corrupt elite of the country. He had become like an uncle to you, a genuine part of the family. With his kind eyes, but cold demeanor, he is the perfect person to have your back. 

“What about him?” Theo said. 

“Ugh no…” 

“You can’t keep saying no to everyone. Choose or I will choose for you tonight,” your dad finally spoke. Eyes not looking at you. This is not his favourite idea ever, but it was necessary. 

You couldn’t picture yourself with any of these men, but it was your duty. So you tried your best to be somewhat amicable and get to like at least one of them. With your wine glass in hand, you decided to talk to your pursuers. They would throw themselves at your feet, showering with compliments, showing off their riches, and to be honest being completely obnoxious. This is not what you needed. You needed someone who you could make a deal with and live separate lives while keeping the façade of a marriage. 

Shit, this was going to be hard. 

The door opened and at that moment you knew something was off. The entire room fell silent when the man with broad shoulders and shiny black hair walked in. His face was expressionless, with high cheekbones, and not a trace of sympathy. You would think he would come to greet you, that’s the reason why he is there, but he just bows in your direction and walks over to the bar. 

The conversation around you resumed, whispers commented on the politician’s son. His father was a powerful drug lord who controlled one of the borders. No wonder he has so much influence. Your brain made a quick list of pros and cons, and so it seemed Choi San would be the right choice for you. 

___________________________________

San was aware his father was a criminal but when he was pushed to marry you, he did everything he could think of to change his father’s mind. He begged he asked to be sent away, hell, he even asked for physical punishment. But Mr. Choi was a greedy, greedy man, and he saw in you an opportunity to be even greedier, richer, and more powerful. This was truly the perfect alliance. 

Your dad’s body wasn’t ever cold yet when San got the call and the whole marriage circus began to play. At least the ceremony would be short and he would get to move into his room in your mansion and get it over with. San only met you that one time, but he remembered very well how you looked. In one word, terrifying. You would make the perfect fake wife. 

San watched you walk toward him dressed in black, a dress that covered your legs right above the knees but left little to his imagination from the way the cleavage showed off your round and soft breasts. He just politely nodded at you. At the end of the day, there was nothing to celebrate, your dad was dead and he had to pretend to be your loving husband for the rest of his life or until something or someone killed him. 

With no kiss to seal the deal, San just signed the papers and tried to give you a smile, which was awkward. 

“I am sorry for your loss,” he said. 

You returned the smile, less awkwardly, and patted his shoulder. For a split second, San saw something in you, maybe kindness, but that was all forgotten when you two started living together. 

_____________________________________

“Yeah… fuck, don’t fucking stop, don't fucking—” your voice bounces on the walls, you are so close. 

“Ah.. ah!” the deep voice behind you moans as he cums way too soon. 

San closes his eyes across the hallway. Why do you have to be so fucking loud? To be honest, he wishes he could shut you up once and for all. Moving in with you was necessary, he understands that, part of the arranged marriage and your agreement. However, San never imagined how opinionated and bossy you could be. One thing was your role as the new mafia leader, another thing was you ordering him around the house like some unloved pet. 

Tonight, nonetheless, San wouldn’t take that anymore, so he did something unexpected. He left his bedroom and went looking for you. Was he out of his mind? Probably, you specifically instructed to ‘stay the fuck away’ and since your marriage was fake, you could find carnal pleasure with anyone you wanted. 

San walked out of his bedroom. His pajama pants hanging low, his shirt forgotten somewhere in his room. He still wore his reading glasses and his black hair was wet, and slicked back. Your bedroom door abruptly opens and an unfortunate man flies out of your room. He is in his underwear trying to flee the scene grabbing his clothes as your upset persona watches not too far from the door. San’s curious eyes find your figure, and my oh my, what on earth are you wearing? 

If San didn’t know any better he would be jealous of the thin piece of clothing that gets to touch your soft skin. You have no shame as you stand there in front of your husband. The peach, sheer dress dances loosely on your body, however, it shows off your beautiful body. San can see your nipples hardening under such a provocative piece of clothing as his eyes scan even further south to find the core of your intimacy unclothed. 

“Cat got your tongue?” you ask. 

“N-no, I was just… taking a break from reading. I couldn't focus,” he crosses his arms across his chest and something in you wonders how you never paid any close attention to those broad shoulders and itty bitty tiny waist. 

“Was I being too loud? Apologies.” 

“Not at all, I believe you can be louder… with the right encouragement.” 

The audacity. He can’t speak to you like this… he has never done something so daring. Your heart races and a familiar heat travels from your chest down to your legs. 

“Go to your room, San,” you scold him and close the door. 

San rolls his eyes. He has had enough of you bossing him around as if he was your puppy or servant. So on this night, Choi San decided something. He will make you see him for what he is, an important part of your alliance, a capable, fierce man, and your husband. 

______________________________

The days pass and you haven’t seen much of San. You haven’t seen him at all. Is not a surprise not to see him or know of him for a day or two, however, it’s been 9 days since you had your little after-hours encounter. You sit in front of various members of the cartel and trusted members of the mafia your father once led. Theo, your father’s favourite and now your confidant, continues to sit to the right of the boss, you. 

“We are losing territory, it’s like we don’t have enough people from our side…” one protests. 

“The matter is getting resolved. I suspect there is someone infiltrated in one of our negotiations or maybe lines have been tapped–” 

You are cut mid-sentence when the doors are almost torn from their hinges and your husband enters the room. He is agitated, pulling a beaten man by the collar of his crimson-stained shirt, the same crimson colour that decorates San’s knuckles and hands. The stranger is pushed and kicked to your feet, and you almost feel pity for his bruised face. 

“Sorry to drop in unannounced, love,” San starts, leaving that last word resonating in your head. “This little rat here has something to tell us, don’t you?” San walks over to him and pulls him by the root of his hair making his eyes meet yours. “Look at my wife when you speak, scum, or do I need to break the rest of your fingers one by one?” 

And now you see it, his left hand, disfigured, broken bones making his muscles swell under his skin. 

“Speak,” you command. 

“I– I know who’s been feeding information to Viggiano.” 

As soon as you hear the name you stand from your chair and grab his face. 

“You better start talking before you lose your tongue as well,” you look at the disheveled man, then back at San. His eyes have such an intense glare, you’ve never seen him like this. It makes the hairs on your back rise.

“Pl-please no, I–” as the man stutters he keeps looking past you, which makes you turn to see Theo standing right there. The kindness in his eyes was now replaced by threat and fear. 

“No…” a small gasp leaves your lips. 

“You are never going to be the right person to lead, everyone knows–” Theo starts. 

Slap! You can’t believe the speed at which your body moved to hit your so-called uncle across the face. Two of your guards grab him by the arms, waiting for your command, but San is quicker. He bumps the disheveled man’s head with the table, knocking him unconscious. Like a predator to its prey, he walks towards Theo. You don’t see it coming but one punch from San and Theo is coughing blood. 

“That’s enough, San. You can go now.” 

San is in disbelief, but he lets out a deep chuckle that makes you and your company know he is indeed annoyed by your decision. 

“I want his nose and ears cut off, for being a liar and an eavesdrop, send them to Viggiano,” you walk towards the door. “Sleeping beauty over there loses his tongue. I want them both dead by midnight… oh and let this be an example of what happens if you betray your boss,” you finally exit the room, listening to the ‘yes ma’ams’ behind you. 

The night seems to be the longest one you’ve ever lived. This is not the first tough decision you make, but this is the first time someone close betrays you, and it hurts. It hurts bad, so you cry in the loneliness of your room. You curse. You throw things around and you scream. Everyone has been instructed not to bother you, except for one person. 

“May I come in?” San’s voice is soft outside the door. 

“Leave me alone!” 

San enters your room regardless and nothing stops him from getting to you. He holds your wrists. 

“You need to stop bossing me around, I know you are upset but I am not your puppy or your slave.” 

“You disappeared for 9 days and came home with a big surprise. Great! But you mean nothing to me, Choi San, and I mean nothing to you! Just get out before I call the guards.” 

“Nothing to you? Nothing to me!?” he is even more shocked than before and you see in his eyes that look he gave you when you got married but now it is enhanced. It is sympathy. It is agony. It is lust, pain, and love. Deep down you know he means something to you or you would have him dragged out of your room in this very minute. 

You don’t get to answer when San’s lips are already on yours and you find yourself kissing this handsome man back. This handsome man is legally your husband, but you have never kissed before. His lips are hungry and wanting, making you thirst for him as your tongues collide and his needy hands cup your ass. 

“See how lovely it can be when you don’t boss me around and you shut up.” 

Fuck.

The wetness between your legs just grows and you have no words to answer back. His mouth is on your delicate neck, oh he needs to make a work of art here, your skin looks like it could bruise easily. San sucks on various points, his tongue lapping over the marks he leaves behind. Your moaning goes from soft to breathy and impatient. One of your hands reaches under your nightgown and San slaps it away. 

“No, love, you don’t get to relieve yourself until I fucking say so. Now be a good pet and strip for me, would ya?” 

You take off your clothes as fast as you can, pathetic. A week ago, San was just the most annoying housemate, a convenient inconvenience, but now you’re here naked in front of him. His eyes are dark scanning your body, planning how he is going to ruin you, and you are going to let him do as he pleases. 

“On your knees.” 

And you drop to your knees looking up at his adoring face with a wicked smile. He lowers his pants just enough for you to see his cock already leaking for you.

“Such a good pet, would you help me out?” 

You continuously nod and pull his pants further down. His cock is beautiful, perfect, just like him. Slightly curved, just the right thickness, and a bit longer than average. You spit on it and start with your hand, jerking him off, up and down, up and down. Without interrupting the pace you lick his balls and earn the most sensual moan from San’s lips. So you put your mouth to work. You put him between your wet needy lips and push him in, sucking, tasting all of him. San’s breath is heavier when you start bopping your head up and down. He suddenly grabs your hair and takes control, fucking your face and watching you take it. To his eyes, you were already so beautiful, but this is something else.

“See how beautiful you look with your mouth shut, so obedient, now be a good wife and take this cock.” 

You moan at his words, how can they make you so horny when you had no plan of sleeping with him. The vibrations in your throat send San spinning and he is too close to cuming, but not yet. He pulls out of your mouth and helps you up, and with a slap to your ass, he takes you to bed. He signals you to straddle him. You normally don’t like eye contact with your sexual partners but there is something about San that makes it different. 

“Fuck yourself on my cock and I only want to hear how good it feels, okay?” 

You sit on his cock slowly, letting yourself adjust to his length and girth. When you start to bounce on top of him, San has to use all of his willpower not to drill into you like some kind of wild animal, he can do that any other time if you let him. The way you are making him feel is ecstatic. Your tits moving up and down so close to his face he has to suck on them. The feeling of his tongue on your nipples makes you want to cry for pleasure. You let out a high-pitched moan.

“Words, little pet, I wanna hear them– fuck,” San throws his head back as your pace becomes quicker. He slaps your ass, once, twice. 

“I love it, I fucking love it, San… fuck. I like it right there, so fucking perfect. I want you to fucking split me in half,” you just let words out, words derived from the ecstasy of having his cock buried deep inside you. 

And that was the queue for San to let go and fuck you like he wanted. Like you wanted. He now fucks you faster than the pace you set earlier. His hands bruising your hips, the skin-to-skin contact adding even more passion, and his eyes… His eyes on yours making you feel his, making you feel safe, making you feel you can let go and– 

“Fucking shit, I’m gonna cum… fuckfuckfuck!” 

And San holds you while your body trembles and your high makes your brain explode into a thousand little particles of pure lust and sin. Fuck the way your heart races, you can hear it in your ears. He puts you on the bed and your reaction time doesn’t catch up with your brain when your legs are wrapped around his waist and he is entering you. 

“San…” you whisper. 

He stops. He is unsure if this is too much and he is willing to stop. 

“San, San, San…” you keep saying his name like a plead, a prayer to the heavens as your hips move forward. You want more. 

“Bet. No one. Ever. Fucked you. Like. This.” San says between thrusts so deep you can feel him in your cervix. “Look at you all fucked out, my obedient pet, taking my cock so well, wanting to cum again. Is that what you want?” 

You nod desperately, anything for another intense orgasm with him. You only want this with him. His hands touching you, his moans on your ears, his voice commanding you to cum again and again. 

This time San fucks you slower, you can feel every inch of him inside you as you clench around his erection encouraging him to keep going. He grabs your thighs to pull you even closer to him, angling your hips higher making you not say his name, but scream it. 

“Yes, fuck, keep saying my name just like that.” 

So you did as he entered you, ruining you for any other man who dared match him. You were his, the man who saved your life and fucks you into oblivion. Now you were close, so close to your climax and you needed to cum like oxygen itself. 

“You don’t get to cum without me, hold it like the good pet that you are,” he says struggling to make a coherent sentence, he was very close too. 

You try hard not to cum before he does, but looking at him sweaty, chasing his high, fucking you as no one has done before does something to you. Your hands squeeze your tits together while your eyes close, trying to last longer. San could have combusted with that sight alone. 

“Cum– cum now… fuck!” 

The tightness in your belly is now free as you both cum. It is so fucking loud that your head hurts. His seed spills deep inside you and if you felt full before, now it’s even better, your legs feel like gelatin. San gently places them down. You are thinking he will probably leave you to go back to his room but he does the unexpected. 

His thumb is over your extremely sensitive clit and two of his slender fingers push his cum back inside you. You scream closing your legs. He smiles. 

“You need to take it all, love,” that’s it… the dom session is over and he uses that word that makes your heart flutter. 

“I can’t.” 

San licks your clit, tasting the mix of both of your releases. His fingers thrust in slowly, slightly angling up until you squirm under his touch. 

“Ah, right there? You like it there, love?”

“Mmmm-ugh yesfuck…ah–” you babble. 

San continues his tortuous pace until he latches once again his mouth to your clit. You see stars, you don’t know how your body is taking this, it is so fucking good, he is so fucking good. The way he keeps you on edge and makes you want more and more. Fuck, you can’t even think and you feel your body about to orgasm but something is different. 

“San, San… stop. I’m gonna–” and you squirt, drenching him in your juices. 

“That’s a good girl.” He licks your entrance once last time before collapsing beside you, his arms open inviting you to rest on his broad and hard chest. 

“You are not allowed to sleep in the other room anymore. From now on you sleep here, okay?” 

“You’re ordering me around, but I will follow your command. After all, you are my wife,” he hugs you tightly. 

__________________________________

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨ —this took me forever but I am in love with this san! reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated and let me know if you would like to be part of the taglist.

#kpop smut #ateez smut #kpop fanfic #ateez fanfic #choi san hard hours #choi san smut #choi san scenarios #choi san x reader #san imagines #san smut #san scenarios #san hard hours #san hard thoughts #san x reader #ateez san smut #ateez san x reader #astayinwonderland #san fanfic #mafia au #mafia smut

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

❤ Yandere Criminal ❤

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

WARNINGS: Kidnapping.

Little gift for the New Year! Hope you guys like it :)

--

◾ Yandere!Criminal whose specialty is small robberies of convenience stores and bodegas, nothing that goes beyond that.

That also means that money is tight, it’s hard enough to cover for the insanely high rent, let alone cover for monthly groceries, water and electricity bills.

◾ Yandere!Criminal who’s fucking tired of sitting in his dark shitty apartment, smoking a blunt in hopes of deceiving the hunger that rumbles in his stomach. 

He lays back on his second-hand couch, eyes following the gray ropes of smoke that ascend from his lips, mind racing on every possible way of making money fast.

His rent is due in a week and his fridge is desolately empty, aside from a bottle of water. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal who gets restless and in the spur of the moment, decides to head out on a walk around his block. Maybe that’ll give him some ideas or distract him from the ache in his stomach. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal barely takes a few steps into the street when he sees you. 

A pretty girl walking down the street, eyes nervously darting towards every shadow that moves. 

What are you doing out in the dark street at such hours?

It’s way past midnight, as the old watch in his wrist tells him. That’s not time for a girl like you to be out, especially not his neighborhood at least.

You’re lucky that no one has approached you yet or you wouldn’t be looking so damn cute right now. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal whose interest is spiked when he notices the clothes you’re wearing under the dim moonlight.

The short dress only long enough to cover your ass, the high stiletto heels clicking on the dirty floor at each step you take. 

You’re looking like a serious sex-bomb in those clothes, despite the scaredy expression covering your dolled-up face. 

But a second look at your body has him squinting his eyes, brain engines rolling as he examines your outfit.

Is that a fucking Prada cocktail dress? And the heels that you’re wearing Louboutins? The fancy purse, a Channel limited edition? It’s got to be daddy’s money, cause that face of yours isn’t giving smart vibes.

◾ Yandere!Criminal who instantly knows this is destiny.

You were sent to him for a reason. And the reason is that you’re his new bank account. 

You have to be, otherwise it would’ve been some disgusting scumbag to find you first. 

He wastes no time in reaching out for you. He knows he’s not bad looking, high-cheekbones and lustrous dark hair. Hopefully that works in his favor. 

And it certainly does, a kind expression on his face as he offers you help. You immediately accept - so fucking naive, you poor dumb thing - immediately blabbering that your phone lost battery and that you’re sooo late to his super-chick party whose address you’re not entirely sure of. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal who nods, pretending to understand all your issues. Slapping his face as he remembers that - oh, yeah, he kinda forgot his phone in his apartment. Maybe you’d want to come with him while he grabs it?

It’s not safe for you to be out here, on your own. Dangerous neighborhood and all of that.

And you follow him right away, like a lost duckling. It’s so easy, a smirk creeping on his face when you enter his apartment.  

◾ Yandere!Criminal who instantly pounces on you, dragging you by the hair to his bedroom, a new found adrenaline running down his body.

You shriek and cry out loudly so he’s forced to push some old cloths on your mouth, using duct tape.

Honestly, he’s not even that worried about you getting away cause you’re barely able to put any fight. You’re a weak little thing, aren’t you?

◾ Yandere!Criminal who only waits a day before contacting mommy and daddy, demanding a good amount of green for them to be able to retrieve you.

He thinks a lot about how’s it gonna play out, creating a plan that sounds pretty much bullet-proof.

He gets easily distracted by you, eyes greedily running over your body. The dress doing even less to cover you in the daytime light, the make-up smudged and half-disappearing, revealing a younger – cuter – face.

You’re relatively obedient too, toning down your hysterical cries after he harshly yelled at you. He could bet that if he put on a mean face and threatened you, you’d probably suck him off. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal who finally gets his money, a large grin opening up in his face as he receives the cash. More than enough for him to move into a fancy mansion on a private neighborhood and retire for the rest of his days. 

No more stealing, no more spending his days worried about rent or food. Now he can finally sip on a freshly-made margarita and relax by the infinity-pool of his new house, the sunny rays hitting his toned skin. 

Maybe after he’s done with his drink, he’ll go pay you a visit. You’re still adapting to your new house - and him, hence why he’s keeping you in a tight leash (literally). 

Now you’re all his. His little ATM.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere x you #yandere x reader #tw: yandere #yandere concept #female reader #yandere headcanons #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines

[granddaughterogg]

So, you're the newest addition to Task Force 141 and you Make a Move on one of the boys. How will they react?

Johnny Soap MacTavish: With utter glee. "Took ya long enough, lass! Thought you'll never shoot your shot!" He'll announce with amusement. Our perky Scotsman is an absolute Sexpot - and he knows it. He is also a master of Living in the Moment aka Seizing the Day. Rules and regulations be damned. "So what do you say?" He'll ask, filling your personal space with all that muscle and clasping those strong hands around your waist. "Wanna go on a date first…" Johnny wiggles his painterly eyebrows. "...Or shall we skip to the good part?"

Ghost: When you confessed that you'd like to spend some time with him in private, he didn't seem thrilled. As is usual case with Ghost, he didn't seem like caring one way or another. All you got in the way of a reaction was his hand, holding the cigarette and now stilled halfway to his mouth. He threw you one of his Stares - Simon Riley's eyes are as beautiful as they are cryptic, you've never been able to read those dark peepers surrounded by white, seemingly frosted eyelashes of dizzying length. Then he muttered something under his breath and walked away. You didn't hear a word from him for the next three days, apart from work orders anyway. Disappointment and embarrassment tormented you in turns. You were silently cursing your big, reckless mouth. On the fourth day he approached you as if nothing had ever happened and said: "Allright". "Allright what, Sir?.." You asked, dumbfounded. "I agree. We should fuck."

Gaz: Oh, this beautiful boy. Out of the whole squad he's probably the one best adapted to Living in a Society. He reacts as any sensible man would: with a charming smile, a proud, joyful gleam in his eye, a trace of a blush almost. "Gosh, Private, really…Me? Well, girl, you got outstanding taste." "Don't I know it," you answer boldly. "Look, babe," he says in a hushed voice, coming closer and putting his hands on your shoulders, "Cap will rip my head off and piss in my neck if he finds out that I'm fooling around with a subordinate...so we're gonna have to be extra careful, 'kay? Can you promise me that?" You nod enthusiastically. This is so exciting!

Captain Price: So you like to live dangerously. There is no safe way that you can Put the Moves on your commander. You know that...right? On the other hand - if you're gonna break the rules, break them hard and break them for good. Tell him that you desire him. That you can't stop thinking about him. Pick a moment when the rest of the guys won't be within a kilometer radius. Say your line and look into those hard, cloudy sky-coloured eyes which have just grown big and round with shock. "Kid," says Price, his voice suddenly a little breathy, which is oh so hot: "Are you out of your goddamn mind?" "Only for you, Sir." Flutter those eyelashes. Come on, lay it on thick. It's been some time since anyone has thrown themselves at the old man. He will sigh the mother of all sighs, then drag one hand across his tired face. "I am you commanding officer." "That you are, Sir." He will come closer, both hands behind his back. Then he'll reach out and gently, oh, so gently touch your cheekbone. "You do realize tha' I could tell you to pack up and send your arse home?" His voice is very meticulously level, but you can feel the volcano bubbling underneath. "I do, Sir. But I just couldn't live a lie. I want you." That boldness will earn you another sigh - this time more ragged. He'll trace his finger over your upper lip, say: "Well fuck me sideways..." like a man who has just experienced a miracle - and then John Price will embrace you in a kiss, shameless, deep and hungry.

This man has been criminally touch starved. Congratulations, you'll have your hands full from now on. Not to mention your…other regions.

#simon ghost riley #modern warfare #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost simon riley #simon riley #ghost x you #kyle gaz x you #kyle gaz garrick #task force 141 #task force x reader #captain john price #captain price x reader #captain price #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x you #kyle gaz x reader #gaz call of duty #soap call of duty #price modern warfare #ghost modern warfare #captain price x you #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #soap x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Over the edge

(*Scrolls through drafts* ... oh right, there was something. Have more phantom thief, I guess.)

Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge, February 2024 edition

Rated: T

Prompt: edge, 509 words

Tags: Fantasy AU, Magic AU, Guard!Steve, Thief!Eddie, Jail Break

Notes: Part 1 | Part 2

Eddie never regretted becoming a criminal. 

You don't watch the high and mighty hoard all the magic still left in the world, feeding their twisted hunger for power, without growing to resent them. 

Even when they captured him, when they locked him away in this prison under the sea, he never once wished he had chosen differently. 

The only regret he had here in the dark was that he'd never see Steve's face again. 

And now Steve is here. Steve is unlocking his shackles and pulling him along dark corridors, up towards the light, and Eddie still thinks this may be a dream. 

When they reach the surface, he faintly registers the wind in his hair, the salt on his skin, the moon in the sky, but all he can see as they stumble towards the edge is Steve. The sea gapes under them, black and endless. 

“How are we getting to land? We'll never-” 

Something is pressed into his hand. A pouch on a leather string, filled with something heavy and sharp-edged. 

“Think you're the only one who knows how to get their hands on magic artifacts?” Steve grins, brandishing a pouch of his own. “Crystals. For warmth and navigation. I have a boat waiting out by the coast, we just gotta-” 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes. “You really are perfect, huh?” 

Steve falters, blushes adorably, and-

-an arrow comes flying out of the dark. It pierces the pouch in Eddie’s hands, ripping it from his hold. The sound of the waves swallowing it is lost over the roar of voices. 

“There they are, seize them!” 

Eddie's heart kicks in his chest. Oh fuck, oh fuck, this is bad, this is so fucking-

“Eddie.” 

Steve cups his jaw in both hands, turns him so that he must look at his face rather than the guards rushing their way. There is a weird, determined calm in those pretty eyes of his. 

“You said you're the best around,” Steve says, fingers ghosting over his cheekbones. The footsteps are coming closer. “Don't look at them, look at me. You said that you can break into any place, steal anything. Was that true or just one of your boasts?” 

Eddie huffs, irritation rearing its head. 

“Of course that's true, what are you even-” 

“Good,” Steve smiles, and kisses him. Eddie’s world grows soft around the edges, everything narrowing down to Steve's hands in his hair, Steve's lips against his, Steve, Steve, Steve. It's why he doesn’t realize how Steve walks them closer to the edge. “Then prove it.” 

He gives the leather pouch one last tug … the last remaining pouch that he has just slipped around Eddie’s neck. 

Eddie's stomach drops.

“Stevie, no-” 

“I'm sorry,” Steve says, and pushes him over the edge. 

Eddie’s world tilts. 

The wind rips at his clothes and gravity pulls him down, clawing his scream from his lips. 

The last thing he sees is Steve's face, alight with grim satisfaction as the guards tackle him to the ground. 

Then the waves swallow him and everything turns dark.

⚔️✨️⚔️✨️⚔️✨️⚔️✨️⚔️✨️⚔️✨️⚔️✨️⚔️✨️⚔️✨️

To be continued...

Taglist: @sourw0lfs @bananahoneycomb @firefly-party @whoneedscanon @steddie-island @sidekick-hero @theheadlessphilosopher @extra-transitional @penny00dreadful

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddiemicrofic #hype's microfics

[mandomaterial]

Helping Miguel O’hara out after a fight!

Part two || Masterlist

- the two of you met while he was out saving people from a nasty fight, he was resting in a dark alleyway after he finished up the villain. He was sitting on the dirty gravel, leaning against a brick wall, just breathing.

- that’s until he heard a soft voice asking him “Are you alright?” He cracked open his eyes and found himself looking at the cutest girl he’d ever seen. You were wearing a ruffly jean skirt with mismatched socks and a thin white shirt with little bows on the collar and sleeves.

- He let out a little groan “yea I’m alright” fully expecting you to acknowledge it and walk past him but instead, you shuffled over to him and sat down close to him. You reached for your backpack, which had all kinds of pins and stitching on it, rummaging around until your fingers made contact with a little box. All the while Miguel kept his eyes trained on you, wondering what you were doing, normally he would feel awkward but somehow he felt totally at ease with you, even if he hadn’t even met you yet.

- You pulled out the box, placed your backpack on your lap, and opened it carefully, revealing a strawberry jam sandwich that was cut into two triangles. You hesitated for only a second before holding the box out to him.

- he stared at you, completely baffled, thank god you couldn’t see his face right now. He would have never expected you to offer him a snack after just seeing him sitting on the floor in an alley. Still, he took out one of the triangles with nimble fingers and inspected it for just a few seconds before thinking «fuck it» flipping his mask up over his nose and finally sinking his teeth into the soft bread. Only then did he realize how hungry he was, having not eaten anything all day and fighting off criminals.

- he didn’t even notice the little moan that slipped out as he chewed. All you could do was crack a smile, sometimes even heroes needed a little kindness, then you noticed that his hand was uncovered and that it was completely bruised and busted, with scratches all over and a few of his knuckles split. Your face scrunched up a bit as you went back to rummaging through your bag. You should have some… aha! There they were, you pulled out a thin packet of multicolored bandaids.

- you took a second look at the box, the bandaids were covered in little stars and other shapes, would he even want them if they looked this silly? You shook your head a little, it was more important that those nasty cuts got covered.

- Miguel was too busy, absolutely blissed out, eating the lovely treat to even notice that you gently lifted his free hand and started sticking on the bandaids. Only when you covered a particularly nasty gash, he winced a little, snapping out of his trance and staring at you. By then his hand was already mostly covered in pink, blue, and yellow bandages.

- he gently pulled his hand away to look at your handiwork more closely, you’d covered almost everything! He was utterly touched by your selflessness and kindness.

- “…Thank you…” you could hear a twinge of loneliness in his voice and it made you feel quite bad. A few seconds pass as you say there in silence, just relishing the moment until you felt a slight tap against your hands. You looked down, eyes coming across his other hand, which was just as bruised up as the other. You wrapped your fingers around his gently and risked a quick look up, he was avoiding your gaze, even if more than half of his face was still covered by his mask, he had a bit of a pout on his plush lips and if your eyes didn’t deceive you, he looked a little flushed right on his cheekbones.

- you focused back on the hand in your lap and started picking out a few bandaids, carefully wrapping them around his bloody knuckles and over his small cuts. Miguel let out a sigh, enjoying your ever-so-gentle touch, almost caressing his hand. It had been so long since he’d felt such a comforting touch.

- but all too soon you were done, but seeing him like this, your strong superhero Spider-Man, so vulnerable and with his walls down, you couldn’t help but raise his large hand to your lips and press a light kiss to the back of his hand. “Thank you for protecting Nueva York” you whispered before you pushed yourself off the ground, still holding his hand in your own.

- to be honest, Miguel didn’t even know what to say or how to react, you were like a princess and he felt so unworthy of your attention. He kept staring at you, wrapping his fingers around yours as you gave him a little tug, helping him up, even though you knew that he didn’t need it. As soon as he rose to his feet and stretched out to his full height, you were a little surprised. Of course, you knew that Spider-Man was tall but standing right in front of him was almost unreal! He had to be almost seven feet tall! He towered over you, tilting his head a little as you looked up at him with big puppy dog eyes.

- he knew that the two of you would part ways soon, but he wanted to see you again so desperately. He was so intrigued by you, he had to see you again! You were so cute, completely opposite fromm him! So he started fumbling around with his watch trying to come up with a way that the two of you could stay in contact without revealing his identity. Being put on the spot, he couldn’t think of anything, he sighed “Do you have a pen?” It caught you a little off guard but quickly you stuck your arm bag into your bag to fish out a pen and your notebook. “Sure” you mumbled as you handed the two items over.

- Miguel let out a little grunt in acknowledgment as he started scribbling something onto the paper, only a moment later he handed it back to you and tried turning up the charm “I think you’re cute, send me a text?” He flashed you a charming smile as you nodded, a huge smile on your face “Of course! I actually just wanted to give you my number too…” you giggled.

- Miguel took a couple of steps forward, almost exiting the ally when he suddenly turned around, grabbed your hand, brought it to his lips, and placed a charming, light kiss on the soft skin. “I look forward to the next time we meet.” he murmured against your hand. With one last look, he shot a web and swung away. You chanced out of the ally, only to see him swinging from building to building, disappearing into the night sky.

- you couldn’t wait to send him that first text!

—————————————————————————

What do you think? Part 2?

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #Miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman #spider man #spider man across the universe #Miguel O’hara fluff #cute reader #fem reader #Miguel x reader fluff #I LOVE HIM

[promenadewithme]

Happy Sappy Hormones

a/n: I know, I know. I've been away for a while. but I have my last final next week and after that I'm turning off med head and turning on writer mode! I've been watching criminal minds and I'm only on s2, but I already have this MASSIVE crush on Spencer Reid. So here's a little blurb I wrote recently. It's not proofread, so forgive me for any mistakes. Pairing: Spencer Read x profiler! you (no use of y/n) Warnings: slightly smutty, but nothing graphic. next chapter is going to be graphic af. um.. let me think... one bed trope, overnight stay at an in, pre-sex, all that tension (at least I aimed for it lol) and pining. Word Count: I have no idea

Am I sweating? I think I’m sweating. How the hell am I supposed to sleep next to this man? Fuck this stupid inn for having only one room with one bed. How cliche of them.

I peek at him and he’s looking up, head against the wall. Spencer swallows, throat bobbing up and down. He has such a nice profile, sharp nose and jawline, the most pronounced cheekbones you will ever see in real life, brows that always seem to be furrowed in thought, pillowy lips that I can’t help but picture against my own. And that hair… Those fluffy chocolate waves that beg for my fingers to mess up.

He’s soft but manly. Angelic heart with a dark mind. 

I rake my eyes across his face once more and notice that a bit of a stubble has grown since this morning. What would that feel like brushing against my neck? Better yet, what would they feel like between my thighs while he-

Nope, too far. I have gone too far.

A blush creeps up my neck to my cheeks. Sleep is the last thing on my mind right now.

“Did you know that sharing a bed is actually good for your health?” he blurbs out, still looking at the ceiling. 

So he’s uncomfortable too. Great.

“How so?” I ask, playing with the hem of my shirt.

“It releases serotonin, dopamine and oxytocin.” he states matter of factly.

“The golden trio of happy sappy hormones.” I quip.

“Something like that” he smirks, giving me a quick look before continuing. “Our pituitary glands transform serotonin into melatonin, which is the hormone that controls our sleep. That’s why cuddling in general makes you sleepy. Serotonin is also known as the ‘happy hormone’ because it’s a mood stabiliser, but it’s more than that. It regulates body temperature, improves memory and aids learning.”

I feel Spencer’s body slowly relax into the mattress as he speaks, so I spur him on.

“Is that so?” I say, trying to hide how much his intelligence affects me.

This man could open a book on gut microbiota, read it to me outloud and it would still be like dirty talk to me. 

“Yes.” he smiles timidly and scooches closer, turning his body in my direction.

 “What about dopamine?” I ask before I let my mind wander again.

“Dopamine is the reward chemical, it’s the rush you feel when you get a good grade or when you eat or sleep.And it’s um…” he pauses and starts playing with the sheets between us “It’s also released when you’re sexually attracted to someone.”

“Oh.” I say in almost a whisper. I must be releasing a lot of that lately.

“Yeah.” he says, taking the hem of my shirt from my grasp and toying with it himself. “It also causes our body's physiological reaction to attraction.”

His finger brushes against my stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake and making my pulse skyrocket. 

“Which reactions?” I ask but the air seems too shallow, there’s not enough oxygen in my lungs.

He finally looks at me and my breathing stops. His hazel eyes bore into mine like they can see my soul. I’m afraid he knows how much I want him, I’m afraid he’ll see how much I wish he would drift his hand further down until he reaches the part of me that wants him the most.

He lifts his hand to my face and trails a shaky finger down my cheek and neck before saying “Like blushing,” his hand trails softly down my arm and my skin pebbles up where he touched “Goosebumps,” he makes it to my wrist and presses down on my artery “quickened heartbeat,” he bows his head and kisses my hand softly, never taking his eyes from mine “the effect of dopamine is obsessive and almost drug-like, you can’t stay away from the person you love and you don’t want to either.”

I can’t breathe. I feel myself shifting closer to him and my attention is fully on his lips. Those lips that never stop moving and I never want them to. Except, right now, I want them moving against mine. 

“What about oxytocin?” I whisper, forcing myself to look at his eyes, his gorgeous hazel eyes. 

“The love hormone.” he mumbles, bringing his hand to my neck while his thumb strokes my cheek. “It’s released in mothers during labour and when in contact with their newborn, but also during sex.”

We are so close that I can see the faint freckles that dust his nose, I’d never noticed them before.

“Any benefits?” I ask, spreading my hands on his chest. He’s so warm.

His voice is low and husky when he answers. 

“Lowers your blood pressure and cortisol levels,” his nose brushes against mine and I look at his lips again “reduces stress.”

“That’s um…” What was I saying again? His lips brush against mine once. Twice. “That’s nice.”

He dips down once more and captures my lips in a slow kiss, like he’s testing the waters. I sigh and my arms make their way around his neck. Spencer darts his tongue out and takes a quick swipe at my bottom lip, I let him in. When his tongue brushes against mine tentatively, his chest rumbles with his low groan and I sink into his arms. 

He grabs my left leg and throws it over his hips so I’m straddling him. I feel his erection between my legs and moan into the kiss. My hands go up to his hair and his locks are even softer than I thought they would be. 

I pull back only slightly “I think we’ve been very stressed lately.”

He nods and kisses me again before saying “Only benefits can come from this.” 

“Yeah, we’re just taking care of our health, right?” 

We stare at each other, panting in unison.

I shouldn’t do this, this will only complicate things. But how can I think of that when he’s looking at me like I’m the hottest woman on earth? How can I think this is wrong when I’ve wanted this for so long? When his soft hair is disheveled by my touch, his mouth swollen from my kiss, his pupils dilated with lust for me, making his hazel eyes dark. 

Just once, I get the chance to do something for me, something that will make me feel good with someone that makes me feel good and seen and beautiful. 

Fuck it. 

I lick my lips and bring his face towards mine in the hottest kiss I have ever had. 

--------

PROLOGUE HAD BEEN POSTED!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds

[corrodedhawkins]

It would be criminal not to ask you to write a praise kink fic for the Eddie kink series

You are so right bestie thank you

Praise: Part nine of the Eddie kink series

Authors note: I have been trying to write this for a month but because praise is my favorite I was overthinking it. Got the idea to make Eddie the one with the praise kink and it wrote itself, so.

Content warnings: Graphic smut (minors DNI) language, mentions of Eddie’s not so great childhood, needy subby Eddie, very slight soft dom reader, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, crying.

It was no secret Eddie had a less than ideal upbringing. With his dad in and out of jail and his mom gone, there was very little room for him to feel anything other than burdensome.

The feelings of inadequacy had lessened over the years, now that Wayne had taken him in and treated him like his own son.

As great as Wayne had been to him, he just wasn’t a very sensitive guy. Every few months he’d get a pat on the back or a mumbled “good job”, leaving Eddie still craving affection and approval.

“Feels so good”, you sigh against Eddie’s lips.

Your foreheads are pressed together, breathing each other’s air as you fuck yourself on his cock, pace languid as you slowly take him deeper.

He hums, licking over your bottom lip to ask for entrance, which you happily give him. Planting his feet on the mattress, he fucks up into you to meet your hips grinding down onto him.

“Baby”, you sigh, pulling away from the kiss. Your lip is bitten between your teeth, the skin turning white from the force. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah?”, he huffs, using his grip on your hips to guide you down onto him, keeping you there as he grinds up into you, the head of his cock raking over your gspot.

“Oh fuck, Eddie”, you cry as your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders. “Right there. Right fucking there. God, you’re so good.”

He moans high and needy, grip on your hips tightening. “K—keep talking, please.”

“What do you wanna hear?”, you ask, tone light and teasing. “How hot and hard and fucking perfect you feel inside me?”

Eyes squeezing shut, he nods and whimpers, tongue poking out to lick over his lips. His hips snap up, balls smacking noisily against you.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart”, you coo down at him, noting how he shivers at the pet name.

He stares up at you with glassy, unfocused eyes as his hips buck up harder.

“Always make me feel so fucking good, wanna do the same for you now, baby.” You cup his face in your hand, thumb stroking along his cheekbone.

“You are—hnngh—you are making me feel good”, he gasps.

“Good”, you chuckle, smiling down at him fondly. “You deserve to feel good, Eddie.”

You feel his hips stutter, cock throbbing and kicking inside of you. “Close?”, you ask.

He swallows noisily, nodding his head. “Y-yes. M’sorry I can’t—can’t help it. Wanted to last for you…”

“Shh”, your thumb moves down his cheek to the corner of his mouth, swiping along his bottom lip. “Don’t be sorry baby. I wanna feel you cum.”

His mouth hangs open, tongue flicking out to lick over your thumb before sucking it into his mouth.

You clench down on him, smirking at the high pitched whine it rips from his chest.

“You’re being so good for me, wanna feel you cum in me. Can you do that? Can you be a good boy and cum deep inside me?”

Eddie nearly sobs, grabbing onto you forcefully to pin you to his chest as he fucks up into you, chasing his release.

“C’mon, there you go. Be a good boy and cum for me, honey”, you gasp as you shudder through your own orgasm, having built and hit you so quickly it knocks the wind out of you.

The feeling of you shaking and fluttering around him is what triggers his orgasm, letting out a wail as he pumps you full of his cum.

You’re clinging to each other, panting as you shake, coming down from your highs. Eddie’s face is buried in your neck, his whimpers turning to sniffles.

Holding him tighter, one hand cards through his hair soothingly as he cries. You speak to him softly, encouraging him to let out his tears. You tell him how well he did, how proud of him you were that he let himself be vulnerable with you.

With one last sniffle, he pulls away from your neck and dries his eyes, a watery laugh escaping him as he smiles up at you.

“Thank you. I didn’t know I needed that.”

Tag list:

@ghastlyentity @sweetpeapod @e0509 @stardustmunson @simpingoverfictionalppl @munsonquinns @thorfemmes @khaleesibubblegum @manddoublee @mcplestreet @lizziesfirstwife @kellynickelsgirl00 @wroteclassicaly  @msmimiandrew @emokid-ellie @stardust-galaxies  @escapingthereality @bayouteche @marsbar127xx @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @xcarabear @just-absolutely-feral @hellfirebabes @fireflyislands @anaisweird @suhsouza @sagihairius @prozacandnicotine @latenitewolves @paprikaquinn @protecteddiemunson4vr @slightlyvicked @thestrangestthings @marsmunson86 @srapalestina @corrodedcorpses @cultofmunson86 @kody07 @joejoequinnquinn @mantorokk-writes @charlie-heatons-whxre @latenightsimping @thefreakofhawkins86 @latenightsimping

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #melissa writes

[theheartofthestar]

Prompt 25 - Criminal AU

@wolfstarmicrofic - April 25th, 835 words

He climbs deftly through the window. Recon had been correct. Remus has no problem getting into the house and up a flight of stairs, protected by the night and its silence. Get into a room, out through a window, climb the little stretch of wall and into the next window. A room, shockingly different from the others he's seen so far. Not in dimensions, but in decoration. Posters thrown up the walls, music ones, movies, a couple from festivals Remus himself had wanted to attend.

He walks slowly to the bed, in complete silence. Steps light, he wills his heart to beat slower, breathing so low you'd have to know what to look for in order to hear him. They don't call him The Wolf for nothing.

He pulls the gun out of its holster, a silencer already in place. Remus lowers the gun, closer, almost touching the shape of a man under the covers. The man is lying facing the door, as Remus knew he would. James had been observing the man's habits for weeks now, determining the best moment to strike, and he was the best at recon. But the client had decided to rush them, saying it had to be done tonight, so here Remus was. Bullets were not his preferred method for assassination, but in a pinch, it would have to do.

Slowly, Remus lowers the safety lock. Time seems to stop, there's a rush in his ears, one he's familiar with by now. The Wolf closing in on a prey, so close he can already taste blood.

"Can you hurry up? This wait is killing me" the man on the bed speaks and it startles Remus so badly he almost shoots blindly. He doesn't, because he's a professional, but it's a close call. Remus huffs behind the mask that cover the lower part of his face.

The man sits up on the bed, and Remus is surprised to see him with his hair done, eyeliner sharp, and dressed in a fucking tuxedo of all things. Sirius Black looks back at him with a thunderous frown, but fear glints in his eyes. Remus doesn't lower his gun.

"You've come to kill me, I know" Sirius says. His eyes flicker to the window and back at Remus. There's the faintest breeze coming in, making a few strands of hair dance against his sharp cheekbones.

"If I say no, would you believe me?" Remus says it before he can think better of it. He shouldn't have, he never speaks on the job, silence is his oldest and best ally. But again, never has a target been able to see him coming. Sirius snorts in response.

"Before you- kill me, would you tell me who it was?" Sirius asks, and there it is again, Remus notices, that quick flicker of his eyes.

"A gentleman never tells" is all Remus says, narrowing his eyes. But now he needs to know something himself. "How did you know I was here?"

"Oh, believe me, I've climbed enough times through that window to know exactly how it sounds when someone climbs in" Sirius laughs, but there's no humor. "Was it Father?"

Remus lowers his gun minutely. Licks his lips behind the mask.

"Your Mother" Remus says. He sees Sirius eyebrows spasm, as if in sudden pain, but his body remains calm. Remus is impressed, he would make a good agent yet.

"Do it fast, yeah?" Sirius says. And lies back down. But there's something about it that doesn't sit right with Remus anymore. Maybe it's the glint of fear in those eyes, maybe it's the posters on the walls, all the same bands Remus listens to, maybe it's the three piece suit he is wearing, the proof that this man knew he was going to die today, and wore something appropriately dramatic.

"How much do you like your life as it is now?" Remus asks, and he finally lowers the gun. Sirius eyes follow the movement.

"Not much, yet thankfully I won't have to endure it much longer" Sirius replies, but there's a note of doubt in his tone. Remus can see straight through that bravado.

"Come with me" he says. Sirius' eyes snap up to his face. A question. "Come with me now, and you'll live. Not this fancy life you've had, but- a life. A life of your own"

Remus offers it the same way it was offered to him, what seems like ages ago, by the man who taught him most of the skills he is now known for. It's a crude offer, but it's honest. And suddenly, he wants nothing more but for Sirius to accept it.

A beat of his heart, the click of the safety lock back on. A flicker of eyes towards the door, then towards the window. Remus extends his gloved hand, and long, pale fingers reach him halfway.

James is going to laugh so much when Remus gets back with a target in tow and a story of a man climbing out of his own house in a tuxedo.

#astra writes #wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #criminal AU #Assasin!Remus #late but still

[smileydk]

Ace of Spades

Pairing: Criminal!Seonghwa x PoliceCaptain!Reader

Summary: Kim Jiwoo, a rookie Police Captain, is handed a case about “Ace of Spades”. Park Seonghwa. He’s a wanted criminal in the whole country and now it's Jiwoo's task to bring him in, but it doesn't go as planned. Instead she realizes how ridicolously good looking the dangerous man is. And she can't see how one man could possibly be that dangerous, or terrifying.

cw/tw: Guns, violence, harsh language, sexual jokes, might be more

Not proof read

- Ace of Spades: It is a symbol of power, authority and also death

As Jiwoo pulled up to the town square and spotted the man. He was clad in a black suit accented with gold details. He almost looked like a pirate, except the clown make up and the mad-man smile on his red lips.

Jiwoo got out of the car, sighing to herself as the other cop cars had left before they could even reach the town square. ''Greatest police force in the country they said''

She was mumbling to himself abou her force bing wusses as she approached the man with caution in her steps. She was sure he knew she was there.

He did.

Seonghwa cracked his neck loudly before he turned towards the woman. His mad smile grew even wider as he spotted her. ''Kim Jiwoo! I've heard a lot about you!''

''Only bad I hope'' She mumbled.

''Of course! I'm Park Seonghwa! Or you might know me as the "Ace of Spades". I shall greet you welcome to the force!''

Jiwoo chuckled to herself. At this exact moment the man seemed quite harmless. ''So you're the man the whole country fear? The one who scared of my entire force? I really can't see how a single man could be thar terrifying''

The man kept the psychotic smirk as a deep chuckle left his lips. ''Well, dollface, you'd be surprised what a single man could accomplish with the right motivation''

''Well, might not use the word pleasure, but it is an honor to meet the legendary "Ace of Spades", the one who makes my life a living hell through my superior officer. Now, what have you been up to?''

Seonghwa was intrigued by the woman. He'd never seen someone this confident around him.

He approached the girl and grabbed her jaw in a firm grip. He tilted her head from side to side as if he was inspecting her face. As if she was a porcelain doll covered in a speck of dust.

''Well aren't you a brave one?'' Seonghwa asked out loud as he was done with his inspection.

Jiwoo didn't reply. She didn't know how to reply to that statement. She felt like no matter how she replied she'd piss of the man.

Seonghwa wasn't really expecting an answer. He was mostly talking to himself. Something he did often. Well, mostly the voices in his head, not exactly himself.

''You are absolutely fucking gorgeous, have anyone ever told you that?'' He asked her as he ran his thumb across her cheekbone

''A few disturbing men, why?''

''Well, you should have someone in your life who always tells you how gorgeous you are, especially with a body like that'' He leaned even closer, eyeing her up and down.

Jiwoo was almost convinced he was gonna kiss her right there, at the town square in front of all the scared civlians.

She was surprised when he didn't. Instead he poked his tongue out and licked her face. Out of relfex, which most people would proabbly deem normal, she slapped the man with all the power she had.

''Goddamn'' Seonghwa hissed as he pulled back from the woman. She knew how to slap. ''You are one ballsy woman!''

Jiwoo continued staring into the man's eyes. ''If you let my face go now, and you walk away, I'm not gonna take you in in cuffs''

''And what if I like handcuffs?'' Seonghwa continued smirking. He knew he was kinky, but he wanted it to come out like that.

Jiwoo had come to the conclusion that, if he liked it, he wouldn't mind, and if he didn't like it, he would've walked away. Which is how Seonghwa found himsel sitting in a place he'd never been seated before. The backseat of a cop car with his hands folded neatly in his lap. He'd only driven them before, after stealing them that is.

As they reached the station she pulled him inside, without much struggle, she earned more than look as she led the the country's most wanted criminal into the station.

''Hey!'' Seonghwa snapped. He raised his hand and pointed a knife at each and single one of them. He had gotten out of his cuffs the moment Jiwoo put him in the car. ''If you don't stop staring, I might have to cut up all of you! Wouldn't like to look like the joker, would ya?''

He approached one of them, Wooyoung, and grabbed his jaw in a firm grip. He held the knife close to the right corner of the poor officer's mouth.

Wooyoung, who was known for being a bold man and always talking back, sat frozen in his chair. Jiwoo wasn't even sure he was breathing.

Jiwoo let out a sigh. ''Seonghwa, you're in a police station, the second you hurt someone they can, by law, fire their weapons at you''

Seonghwa's grip on Wooyung's jaw only tightened, but the knife dropped to the floor. ''Fine, but if you repeat this, I promsie you, something will happen''

Jiwoo grabbed his arm and dragged them towards their holding cells. As she shoved him inside the cell, the other perps were quick to press up against the wall in terror.

Seonghwa sat down in the middle of the room, on the floor, and took out a pen. As he took out the pen the perps pressed even harder against the wall.

He was enjoying the terror he put in other people.

''If your plan is to kill someone with that pen, please give it to me now''

''Look, I'm not planning on it, but even if I was planning it, do you really think I'd tell you?''

''Whatever, do you want a paper?''

Seonghwa nodded and smiled, this time not one of his psychotic, demon smiles, but a softer one.

The woman couldn't believe how a man could have such duality. One moment he's threatening to cut you up like the joker, and the other moment he's sitting on the floor, doodling away like a three year old.

As Jiwoo sat back down by her desk Wooyoung approached his superior officer. ''Look, don't get me wrong Jiwoo, respect for getting Seonghwa, but don't you think it's a bit weird he stayed even though he wasn't cuffed. He must have something planned''

''I know, but let's give him the benefit of a doubt. Or just shove the other perps into the hearing rooms if you think he's gonna kill them. They're too dumb to escape, but I don't trust Seonghwa in there as he could escape. Hell, he could escape now as well, despite eight armed officers watching over him''

Wooyoung nodded. ''I guess...'' He sat back down by his desk and threw his legs up on it.

Jiwoo kept her eyes on the holding cell, where Seonghwa was still sitting peacefully, drawing on his paper and twirling the pen between his fingers every now and then.

''How is he the most feared man in Korea?''

48 hours passed, which meant they couldn't hold the man longer without proof or a hearing. And they had no solid proof. All they had were his tag "Ace of Spades" and he would never admit to that on tape.

''Come on Seonghwa, either you help us out here, or you've gotta leave. We have to fill the cell with other perps and they're all terrified of you'' She motioned to the other perps who'd been pressed up against the wall for the past two days.

''What do I have to do for you to give me something? Please~ give me anything!'' Jiwoo whined. She'd given up on her cool after the first 36 hours.

''Make out with me'' He stated simply, not lifting his gaze from his doodling paper.

Jiwoo couldn't believe she was even considering the offer. Making out with the most wanted man for something he might not even tell her afterwards? ''No! Nuh-uh''

''You hesitated, Princess''

And so the days kept passing and Seonghwa would not budge. They had to get creative about where they put the perps.

Some were shoved into the hearing rooms, which didn't work out in the long run since they needed those for... well hearings.

Some were simply cuffed to nearest surface and the guys hoped they wouldn't escape.

Jiwoo was getting tired of having to come up with different ideas of where to keep the perps, so she took it upon herself to throw the man out so their holding cell could be used.

She walked into the holding cell. ''Guys, take the other perps and store them... somewhere. I just need 10 minutes''

Hongjoong nodded and stood up, as well as the rest of the men, and walked over to the cell to escort the perps into different hearing roooms, with each other.

As Jiwoo entered the holding cell she closed and locked it behind her. She sat down opposite of Seonghwa.

''Can you either help us, or just... leave?''

''But if I leave I can't see your pretty face everyday, Princess'' He finally lifted his gaze from his painting.

Jiwoo took a peek at it. Her eyes widened. It was a picture of herself and Seonghwa... doing unthinkable things. ''You've got some talent, but eh... why in the world am I on the picture?''

''You're hot'' Seonghwa replied without stuttering.

Then again, he was probably used to saying anything he wanted and no one batted an eye.

''You're crazy'' Jiwoo mumbled quietly to herself.

The man's head snapped up in almost inhumane pace. ''Crazy you say?'' The psychotic smile was back on his lips. ''Say, I've been called lots of things, but crazy isn't one of them'' He stood up and started pacing as well as insepcting the cell. ''See I'm a bit hurt you call me crazy, Princess. I was starting to like you''

''I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, but to be fair, you're wanted for basically everything you can be wanted for''

Seonghwa chuckled. ''Fine, I'll leave, but we'll meet again soon. I can promise you that''

''I doubt it''

Jiwoo was walking home after a long shift. The clock was two in the morning and it was pitch black outside. The sun would be up in a few hours, due to summer time. The only light she was given came from the street lights, which were almost ten meters apart.

She was thanking the weather for being on the warmer side since she was clad in a crop-top and a pair of jeanshorts.

An attire that had made her whole department laugh since she'd never showed up in such clothing. Or to quote Wooyoung "I didn't know you had the ability to look like a female human being"

She wasn't worried. She had her gun on her, and she'd never been scared of the dark. But something was irking her. She didn't like it one bit.

What Seonghwa said to her a month ago, actually got to her.

She wasn't necessarily scared of the man. He had never given her a reason to be scared of him. Well, depends on how you wanna interpreter the whole thing, he had given her several reasons to terrify him, but she always wanted to give people a second chanve, and believe in the good in people.

But she was worried about what he could accomplish, since she had after all heard stories about him.

She stopped as she spotted a silhouette standing under the next lamp.

''The chances of it being Seonghwa is small'' She mumbled to herself.

She didn't know if she wanted to reassure herself or if she was just praying that it wasn't him.

Since the light came from above she couldn't see his face, or any form of detail that could reveal the person's identity.

As she got closer the silhouette started chuckling. Jiwoo cursed herself. She recongized his chuckle.

''Well Princess, didn't I promise we were gonna meet again?'' He stood up straight and walked the last few feet, since Jiwoo was frozen in shock. ''Aren't you happy to see me, Princess?'' He gently grabbed her jaw and tilted it upwards.

''I- uhm... no?'' Jiwoo felt intrigued by him.

''Lie. You know what we do with liars?'' Seonghwa's smirk grew. ''We punish them'' Seonghwa grabbed her arm and pulled her towards a car. ''Scream and someone innocent dies''

Jiwoo cursed herself in her head but allowed the man to pull her towards a random car, which he decided was now his.

What she said previously was out the window. She was starting to grow scared of the man. He was unpredicatble.

Seonghwa stomped on the gas and drove towards his mansion. Yes, mansion.

''We've got an hour to kill, ask me anything. I know you're curious''

''Well... cheesy, but your origin story? Why?''

''Well, I think you know my family. My father Park Baekhyon, asshole for that matter. He's most of the reason. Abusive, alcoholic, manipulative, did as wished because he was rich''

Jiwoo racked in her head for the name Park Baekhyon. She slowly realized who he was. ''You killed your own parents''

''I did. I'm not proud of it. But-''

''How could you kill your own father?'' Jiwoo exclaimed.

''You didn't know him as I did!'' Seonghwa shouted and gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Jiwoo thought he was break it. ''He would rape young boys! He would bring home my friends and he would lure them into his study. Something happened behind those doors and then I would never see my friends again! I only know because he got drunk one evening and bragged about it! And when those boys couldn't satisfy his needs he turned to mom and me!''

Jiwoo's eyes softened. No, it didn't justify the face that he was a murderer or the fact that he murdered his own parents, but him being messed up might have something to do with his messed up childhood.

''I would call the police, but as everyone adored my father and knew nothing about what happened behind closed doors, they would dismiss it as some rich kid around abusing his power, or just just asking for attention! No one ever believed me when I said I was in trouble!''

The car fell silent. The rest of the hour long drive was quiet. Jiwoo was processing everything Seonghwa had told her and Seonghwa was slowly regretting that he told the girl his whole lifestory.

As they reached Seonghwa's mansion Jiwoo's jaw fell open. ''Goddamn''

''Close that pretty mouth of yours'' He tapped her chin and led her inside.

''Look, your sad childhood is, most likely, the root of your hell-like life, and it oesn't excuse your behvaiour, but I get it. No one ever showed you love''

Seonghwa stopped walking and turned around. ''I don't like how you read me like an open book. If you're trying to tell me I've got daddy issues, fuck you. But you're right, no one ever showed me any love and I've been just fine without it! I don't need you, Ms. Police Captain to come around and act all sweet and pretend to give me the love you decided I need''

The woman sighed to herself. She was gonna regret everything she was about to do.

She walked up to the tall man and wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. She thought that despite his cold and rough aura, he needed some love.

Everyone needs love, but especially those who've never received it.

The man froze. He was confused. ''W-w-what are you doing?'' All his hard work at building up walls around himself faltered in a second. This woman did what no one else had ever accomplished.

And he hated it!

''I'm hugging you''

''Why? I don't deserve that- I don't-''

''Everyone deserves love. Everyone needs love. Even the most cold hearted people in the world needs love'' She mumbled and kept her arms wrapped around the man.

Seonghwa didn't move from his frozen state. He had never gottan a hug from anyone. Hell, he'd never even gotten a slap on the back, or heard anyone tell him he did a good job.

As Jiwoo pulled away she smiled. ''Everyone-'' Before Jiwoo could start talking Seonghwa had stormed off into a random room.

He had never showed his feelings, he never had to, so now that the woman managed to get his feelings to spill out, he didn't know what to do.

Jiwoo sighed and started walking through the hallways to find the man.

''Why does one lonely man need 200 bedrooms?'' Jiwoo asked herself as she opened another door.

''Empty''

She opened the last door in the hallway, which was a double door. As she threw the doors opened she was met with the man she was looking for.

He was sitting on the floor, something Jiwoo realized was a habit of his, with a big knife in his hand. He was twirling it between his fingers, occasionally throwing it up in the air and catching it.

As Jiwoo opened the door, said knife came flying towards her head. It stuck to the door, less than an inch from her face, but despite the closeness she didn't flinch.

She simply removed the knife and took a closer look at it. ''Nice knife'' She threw it back to Seonghwa. She walked over to the man and sat down in front of him. ''Look, I know you’re not used to… emotions. So I’m sorry that I just… emotion-vomited on you''

Seonghwa didn’t say anything. He simply raised his gaze and deadpanned the woman.

''I can be your therapist! Tell me all your problems''

Jiwoo knew it was weird for a police officer to be nice to a criminal, it was weird for her to even be this nice to a criminal. But she felt like he needed it.

Seonghwa swiftly raised his knife to Jiwoo’s throat and his gaze was ice cold. ''I don’t care if your job is to make me a better a person, I don’t care if your intention is to make me less of a criminal, or however you want to word it, I won’t tell you shit. Are you gonna get a promotion if you do this?''

Once again she didn’t flinch. She gently laid her hand on Seonghwa’s and lowered it. She carefully took the knife from his hands, all while keeping eye contact with the man.

Seonghwa’s gaze softened as he realized she wasn’t scared of him. She wasn’t gonna let this go anytime soon. No one had ever put in this much effort for anything that was about him.

Jiwoo grabbed his other hand and just held his cold hands in her warm ones.

''Look, I know you’ve never heard this before, and I know it’s weird especially when it’s coming from a Police Captain, but I’m here if you need something''

The man didn’t know what to do.

His heart was thumping loudly in his ears. Her hands holding his gave him a tingling sensation. Her sweet, gentle smile made him wanna smile.

''Why is my heart thumping so hard? And fast? And why does my skin tingle whenever you touch me? And why do I wanna smile when you smile?'' Seonghwa rambled his questions out loud.

Jiwoo chuckled at his ramble. How would such a notorious criminal be so adorable.

''Your heart is thumping hard and fast because you’re excited, or when you’re in love. Your skin is either tingling because you’re in love with me or because your allergic to me, and smiles are infectious''

Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he came to a realization. He was in love with the woman in front of him.

''I’m kidding. I have no idea why all that is happening to you'' Jiwoo smiled.

Deposited the woman joking, he was quite sure he was in love with her.

''I think I like you… more than I’d like to admit''

The woman froze. He couldn’t. It was like a poor version of Romeo and Juliette.

''Well, I don’t know if I can say the same right at this moment-''

''I knew it! No one could ever love me! You lied to me!''

Seonghwa swiftly pulled out a gun and pressed it to Jiwoo’s forehead.

The cold metal pressing against her forehead would turn anyone into a frantic mess, but Jiwoo was surprisingly calm. She trusted him.

Which could be stupid, but she listened to her gut feeling.

It almost annoyed Seonghwa that he couldn’t terrify her. He always put fear in people without even trying! He could walk down the street to get a cup of coffee and people would disappear faster than one could count to three.

But why wasn’t this woman scared of him?

She was more scared of his feelings than she was of a gun, pressed against her forehead by the most notorious criminal Korea’d ever seen.

And why couldn’t he hurt her? He’d never had a problem with killing, torturing, kidnapping and so on.

But this woman, something about this woman made him wanna remove all the evil in the world. He could never hurt her! He wanted to protect her from anything that could possibly be evil.

''I- I- I can’t do it! Why can’t I kill you? I’ve never had a problem with it before! What makes you special? You make me wanna quit the criminal life! You make me wanna remove all the evil in the world! I wanna protect you from anything that could possibly hurt you'' He threw the gun across the room in rage.

Jiwoo smiled. ''You are in love with me, Park Seonghwa. Whether you like it or not ''

''I don’t like it! You don’t like me back!'' Seonghwa exclaimed. He almost looked like a three year old throwing a temper tantrum.

''Look, it might be because I've only just met you, or the fact that you're wanted for basically every single thing you can be wanted for, but if I get to know you, the feelings might change'' She held his, cold, hands in her warm ones.

Jiwoo grabbed his arms and pulled at them. ''Come on, I saw a giant TV in one of your millions of rooms, you've gotta have some kind of games. Let's play''

''For a police Officer your aim is really shitty'' Seonghwa chuckled as he won another match.

''It's a lot easier in real life'' Jiwoo mumbled and threw the controller on the couch. She threw it hard enough for it to bounce, and smack Seonghwa in the face. ''Oh my god, I am so sorry!''

Seonghwa glared at the woman. ''How dare you?''

Jiwoo tried her best to not laugh as Seonghwa glared at her. She couldn't really take him seriously. Why? She had no idea, he was terrifying when he glared at someone.

He grabbed her by the waist and pinned her down to the couch.

''I said I'm sorry'' Jiwoo mumbled as the mood changed within a second. ''What more do you want? Kiss it better? Where does it hurt?'' Jiwoo cooed in a judging way.

''I mean, that would be rather nice, wouldn't it?'' He leaned closer to her with a small smirk on his lips. ''My lips hurt, kiss them better?''

The woman didn't know what came over her, but she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Seonghwa smirked as her lips pressed against his.

As they deepened the kiss Seonghwa removed one of his hands to place it on Jiwoo's cheek, but instead he managed to fall off the couch with a small "Ouff"

Jiwoo sat up and looked down at the boy. She chuckled slightly before he grabbed her and pulled him down on top of him. A small "Ouff" left them both again. Jiwoo chuckled as she straddled his waist.

Seonghwa looked at her with adoring eyes. His hands laid on her thighs, on which his thumbs drew small circles. The woman didn't know what to do as he stared at her. She blushed and lowered her gaze, causing him to chuckle.

''Cute'' He mumbled before he allowed his hands to travel up her thighs, past her waist and under the hem of her shirt. Goosebumps grew on her skin as his fingertips did as they wished.

''What is your next plan?'' Jiwoo raised an eyebrow as she looked down at the man. She tried to not blush as he stared at her.

''As I said, you'd be surprised what a single man could accomplish with the right motivation'' He winked and sat up, face less than an inch from hers.

''What's your motivation right now?''

''You''

#ateez #wooyoung #park seonghwa #seonghwa #smut #suggestive #fluff #ateez smut #ateez fluff #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa suggestive #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #oc #original character #kpop smut #kpop #kpop one shot #one shot #ateez one shot #hongjoong #yunho #yeosang #San #Mingi #Jongho

[cookiedoughmeagain]

Watching the first episode of Haven for the @havenfanrewatch , it struck me how much familiarity there is in Nathan as he jumps on board the Rouge, like he does it all the time.

And so I got thinking about what, in between the occasional arrest, he might be going there to see Duke for ...

-

This thing with me and Nate, it's a mess. It always has been and it only ever seems to get more of a mess over time. We've been a mess so long I don't even remember when it started, or how, or whose fault it might have been.

Sometimes I have occasional bouts of clarity where I decide it's over, that I'm never going to touch him like that again.

But then, something happens - something always happens - to throw us back together again. He'll have a bad day and come storming onto the Rouge looking for a distraction. Or he'll have a different kind of bad day and sit there at the bar until he's had enough whiskey and wants something else to drown his sorrows in instead. Or I'll have an irritating day and just feel the need to … to feel … him.

There's this energy between us, you see. That's the thing. It's not just about the shape of his cheekbones or the colour of his eyes, it's not just about the feel of his hands or the curve of his ass. 

It's about the way we butt up against each other, like magnets facing the wrong way, or … I don't know, like hailstones caught in a storm cloud. The whole thing feels outside of either of our control.

Though while it might not be just about the colour of his eyes or the shape of his hands … it is about those things too. And not just that he's gorgeous but that he also somehow manages to remain entirely unaware of how others see him.

That's part of the problem, of course. If he would only admit to himself how many other people in this town would be happy to have him in their bed, I doubt he'd spend so much time in mine.

But for him, I think he's got this odd thing about trust. He doesn't trust me as far as he could throw the Rouge … most of the time. With most things. But in this one area of life he trusts that I'm stuck in this storm cloud with him, and that I'm going to keep as quiet about it as he does because it's impossible to explain to anyone else.

So when he arrests me he treats me like a criminal, and when I'm in the station I evade his questions like he's any other cop.

But later that night when I hear the distinctive thud of his feet hitting the deck as he jumps on board, I know he's not here to haul me back to HPD. I know he's here for something he doesn't want anyone else to know about, something that's private and inexplicable. Something that's just him and me, the touch of skin against skin and the sounds of our breath in each other's ears.

And I know I should probably tell him to fuck off. 

But I also know that I won't.

#haven syfy #havensyfy #duke crocker #nathan wuornos #nuke #this will be going up on AO3 later #rated M

[resident-gay-bitch]

mommy issues

part 26 / contents

eddie munson was a whirlwind you never expected to happen. but you love the unexpected.

it’s the adrenaline rush that comes with these things that captivates you. you live for it, the thrill, the possiblility of life or death, or getting caught… or in this case, both.

sure, eddie’s a good fourteen years younger than you, but you didn’t want him for that, unlike your bumfuck of a husband who you catch perving on young women and probably teenagers all the time. actually, half the reason you took so long to actually initiate this thing with eddie is because you felt guilty about the age gap.

and you didn’t want to risk getting caught over something meaningless.

sure, you cheated on danny plenty, measly fucks here and there. and sure, if he finds out you’ll be beat black and blue. but a woman has needs, and you’re good at lying to him.

but bring eddie into the equation, well, that changed things. you know what danny did to his late wife, you know what he did to eddie, you didn’t want to risk that happening again.

but, oh, eddie’s just… he’s so… fuck. he’s just so pretty, and when he looks at you with those bambi eyes you fucking disintegrate.

you thought he was cute, in the few pictures you had seen of eddie, adorable in the way you find babies, and puppies, and plush toys adorable, because the only pictures you’d seen of him were the ones danny had before prison. and there was one photo, you saw it in the papers, something about him getting arrested, a few months before you even met danny, and you thought he had nice features, but nothing past that.

but when you walked into that goddamned restaurant, your entire world tilted on its axis.

he was hot.

so fucking hot it was criminal. he had shaggy hair that probably hadn’t been brushed in days, leather, rings, necklaces, grungy ripped tees, and these cheekbones that showed of his gorgeous eyes. you thought it was wrong, since his bangs had gotten so long that they were almost covered up. you found yourself relieved the next time you saw him, after he’d trimmed them up.

when eddie wouldn’t look at you, you liked it. it was a game. a game of chase. it was already bad enough, finding your fiences son sexy, but then he had to go and have a bratty little attitude and- oh, you just needed to fix it. you just had to fuck some sense into him.

you told yourself you wouldn’t, that you’d have restraint, but whenever he was around you couldn’t help but flirt. he’s just so cute, and awkward, and shy, and so clearly attracted to you.

you knew instantly, before he even actually looked at you, that he was having bad thoughts about you. and he’s just so easy to tease. and sure, you may have been a little mean, but he’s so adorable when he’s all wound up and desperate and trying so hard to hide it.

the chase, the little game of cat and mouse you started to play with him, it was intoxicating. you’d never found it so hard to find restraint before.

there’s just something about eddie munson that drives you crazy.

but things got worse when you started to care.

well, you’d always cared. of course you did. you care about everyone, and knowing eddie’s past with his mother and the relationship he had with his father, you’re bound to care about him.

but it’s deeper than that. you started to care about his grades, you started to care about his future, you started to care about his happiness, you started to care about your hair or how tight your shorts were, you started caring about weather or not eddie would like that colour on you, you started caring about his sex life. you started asking questions you knew you shouldn’t have been asking, for your own sake.

you could see how much he liked you, and you played anyway, unable to stop yourself. you needed to know. you needed to know so desperately.

but goodness, that night, when he called you drunk. it was that night that you decided to say fuck it to the face of all signs screaming no!

it’s worth the risk. you thought. he’s worth it.

him and his pretty boy fucking eyes, and his stupidly adorable smile, and his pathetic needy noises he makes, and his damned perfect fucking mommy kink.

he confessed, something you never thought he’d find the courage to do. he told you that he wanted you, and in all honesty, how are you supposed to say no to that face?

you don’t understand how anyone before you has.

sure, he’s a freak, but wouldn’t that be more fun? it certainly is for you. and you like the weird ones, they’re interesting. they’re always the best to talk to, the most compassionate, the most pathetic, the sweetest, and the most willing to try new shit and submit to you.

oh, and not to mention the massive fucking cocks.

you take all those things, and you take eddie, and you smush them together, and that equals your wettest of dreams apparently.

he’s so wonderful, so darling, so pretty, and so fucking hung. the stretch of him is heavenly, you could let him fuck your throat for hours. his cock is by far your favourite, ever. big, thick, attached to him, and he actually keeps it clean which isn’t as common as one would think. take danny, for example. you have to lure him into the shower and offer a soapy handjob to ensure its clean enough to suck later.

eddie’s just so wonderful. and you’re so glad you’ve got to mould him into your perfect little plaything. oh, and that mouth of his? it’s fucking sin. you want him down there between your thighs at all times.

you don’t usually like head from guys, they’re not wonderful at it, and even if they are, it’s just not something you particularly enjoy. but with eddie, oh with eddie, getting head from eddie is the best feeling you’ve ever had. you’re sure of it.

sex with eddie had been a… terrible, wonderful, thrilling, terrifying experience.

hands down the best sex you’ve ever had, however, he is your husbands son. but you do love taking risks like that, the secrecy has you on edge, it’s exciting as hell. but if danny finds out, you’re both so fucked.

but if he doesn’t, then you can keep eddie for a while. however, you shouldn’t keep him, because hes young and single and you’re not, and he needs to get out there and find someone genuine. you want him to be happy, but you want to be the one to make him happy, and not just from orgasms and subspace. but you can’t, because you’re married and he’s not your husband.

he’s your husbands fucking son.

your abusive, psychotic, possessive, sexist husbands freak son.

but that just makes you want him more.

he’s been so good tonight, at the party, with liam. you think it’s wonderful he wants to explore these things with you, or at all even. you love the kink community, and you think he’ll really be able to find his place there too.

you hope.

even if the thought of him touching anyone else there (or anywhere) makes you want to claw your own eyes and heart out. you just want to climb into bed with him, wrap him up, and never let him out.

but no, sharing is caring or whatever.

but you’re never sharing with liam again, fuck no. no one there can have him. at those parties, he’s yours and yours alone.

that is a mistake you’ll never let happen again. you didn’t realise how possessive you’d be, you usually love sharing your little playthings with other doms.

but eddie’s not really like your other playthings. you care about him, and know him, and understand him differently to how you do with other subs. eddie’s different.

he’s your bunny, your baby, your pretty, pretty boy.

he’s all yours. such a good boy for you. so perfect.

he took it so well, the strap, so desperate to please you. fuck, you love how desperate he is to please you. it does so much for your ego, and for your heart. he’s so devoted, a perfect little pet.

he’s gone. completely gone, drifting away in subspace. you think he’s adorable when he’s there, so giggly and sweet. such a good boy, you love taking care of him.

you think you’ll always take care of him, in one way or another, even when all of this is said and done.

“i’ve got you.” you promise, watching him slip away, kissing him very softly on the cheek because you know he likes it, and it helps him relax, “wish i could keep you all to myself.”

you often confess such things when he’s drifting, he can’t remember any of them, so it’s the perfect opportunity to say mushy things that dominants aren’t supposed to say to submissives really.

but eddie’s not just your submissive.

he’s your bunny, your baby, your good boy, your eddie.

your eddie. for now at least.

eddie nuzzles his cheek against yours and sighs happily, his eyes are all hazy and wet, so you know he’s out completely, fuzzy and warm in there probably. you smile to yourself, adoring him wholeheartedly.

sitting up, you slowly start to pull the strap from inside him, soothing the insides of his thighs with your nails how he likes, and whispering sweet things to relax him through it.

“there we go, good boy. i know, i know it hurts, baby.” you mutter, wincing when he wines at the sensation. once completely out, you lean down to kiss his sweet hole, and then his thigh, “done so well, for me tonight, bunny.”

“yeah?” he slurs in his happy, hopeful muttering he does in the space, “so well… done so well. bunny is good, good for mommy.”

“yep.” you giggle, he’s always so interesting to watch here. before he gets tired, he seems almost drunk, happily rambling on about everything and nothing.

you begin to clean up, assuring him he’s doing everything he needs to, promising him he’s good, and that you’ve got him. he watches you the whole time, as he always does, eyes hazy as they follow you around the room. he giggles when you touch him and smiled when you look at him. occasionally, when he’s being particularly adorable, you lean over to give him kisses, which turns him to mush.

like now.

eddie blabbing on and on and on about things you can’t really piece together, you’ve got him cleaned up and yourself, and now you’re sitting on the bed beside him, cleaning the eyeliner off his face. he has black steaks running down his cheeks from crying.

“so pretty.” he mumbles, catching your attention. “so pretty… like a goose. goose, goose, goose… hmm, pretty, pretty. smile please?”

you can’t help it, it’s automatic, lighting up at his stupid cum drunk praises. he beams in response, giggling brightly at your smile. you swat him in the nose and tell him off playfully for calling you a goose, which erupts more giggles from him.

“so good. wonderful. sunny smile, bright, bright, perfect, pretty.”

“could say the same about you, sunshine.” you grin, tossing the cotton swab away once you finished.

“me?” he mutters, taken aback, “no, i’m the goblin king.”

“oh, you are, huh?” you chuckle, leaning over closer to him, “do i remind you of the babe?”

eddie gasped and shook his head, bringing a finger to his lip where he shushed you, “issa secret. shhh… it’s a magic curse, and you have to- uh… so pretty, i forget.”

adorable. positively fucking adorable. you lean over and smatter his face in lots of kisses, rendering him a blushing, giggling mess beneath you.

“you’re so sweet, bunny.”

“sweet, sweet, lollipop.” he started to hum a tune, watching you as you hopped up to switch the lights out throughout the motel room, “so lollipop… ohh, sweet.”

“what’s that song?” you ask, walking over to the bed to climb in beside him.

“you.” he says simply, turning his head to watch you climb in bed, “is romance.”

“oh, you’re trying to romance me, huh?” you chuckle, “luring me into your bed with a siren song?”

eddie smiled and nodded his head, “gotcha.”

fuck, he really has gotcha.

you slide under the covers and over to him, dragging him into your chest as you always do. he snuggles into you, finding warmth in from your bare skin. he’s immediately sleepy, you can tell by the lip smacking noises he begins. the same as always. you run your fingers through his hair and hold him, kiss his temple and his forehead, and whisper lovely things to him.

“you’ve got me, so bad, eddie.” you smile, “those pretty eyes have got me.”

eddie hums in agreement, nodding his head, “eyes.”

you sigh, “you almost made me slip up before, you know? you little fucker. you’re so obsessed with me, it’s hard. you aren’t even trying to restrain yourself, baby.”

“you’re so pretty.” he mumbled and smacks a wet kiss on your chest, “so pretty, so pretty, so nice.”

“see what i’m mean?” you ask, not expecting a proper answer, because you never do. he’s too deep to even properly register your question, the poor bunny. “stop being so good to me, i’m struggling.”

“sorry.” he looks up at you, big bambi eyes boaring into your soul. “don’t want me?”

you click your tongue, feeling so bad for him. he looks so devastated right now, as he often does when he misunderstands you. you cradle him in closer and smile, “no, of course i want you. i want you too much, and that’s a problem.”

“hmmm,” eddie nods and nuzzles back into your neck, “want you.”

“i know, baby. me too.” you scrunch your fingers in his hair, scratching his scalp, “you did so good for me tonight, are you tired? wanna sleep now? get some sleep?”

you feel eddie nod, so comfortable snuggled up to you like this. it’s the same position as always, and he sleeps so soundly here. he kisses your chest again, and you kiss his temple. you smatter little kisses on skin back and forth with him for a while until you break and start scratching his back.

“okay, you win, bunny. you gave the most kisses.”

“i win.” eddie mumbled, so slurred and tired.

“sleep now, baby.” you sooth, kissing his crown and silently winning. he’s too tired to notice. “go to sleep with me.”

“okay… okay.” he mumbled again, “love you. love you so much.”

you sigh, your heart sinking in your chest. you squeeze him tightly and don’t say anything.

“really love you.” he mutters, one more stab in the heart for good luck, “love, love you, most… night.”

“night, bunny.” you whisper to the dark, because he’s already out and snoring quietly. “i know.” you mutter, because every time he’s here, feeling fuzzy and floaty, every single time he’s said he loves you, over and over and over again.

and all it does is make you hate yourself.

-

next part coming soon <3

yes, i know this one’s kinda short but be greatful i found the energy to write it lol.

what did you think of the new pov? we’re back to eddie in the next chapter. :))

hopefully ill see you next week but idk as i do most of my writing thurs / fri / sat as thats when im mostly availiable and not exhausted from work but i have a shift friday and its my birthday on saturday! im getting tattoooooooooooosssssss!!!!!!! so yeah, please be patient with me, trust that im trying my best but i can only do so much :(((

taglist: comment to be tagged <3 : @emsgoodthinkin @bl4ckt00thgr1n @strangerthingsn @treedivaeden @darknesseddiem

#jay writes #mommy issues #eddie munson #eddie x stepmom!reader #sub eddie #stranger things #smut #fluff #mommy kink #eddie x fem!reader #fan fic #multichap #slowburn #eddie x reader #dom reader #subspace

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

They Both Just Gotta Be Dicks - a Malevolent fic

WARNING: Intermezzo spoilers

Not much surprises Kayne anymore.

A melting Arthur manages.

AO3

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

This is try number six hundred and forty-eight. Or maybe forty-nine? Sure, forty-eight, and who cares, because I am absolutely sure it does not matter at all.

Who would even bother counting? What would be the point?

There isn’t a point, and that is the fucking point.

Yeah, yeah, you two, get your morning started; share the coffee, drop the sugar (seen this eighteen thousand fucking times and how’s that for counting), and here comes the mail courier! 

This part always goes fun. Sometimes Parker dies right away; sometimes there’s a Battle For Supremacy! in which proto-John wins every time and then Parker dies. Sometimes Arthur gets killed in the process, and proto-John gets a maximum of sixty-eight seconds (I did count that) of life outside the Dark World before oopsie-whoopsie can’t kill your host and he goes screaming back. Sometimes—

A man comes out of the shadows (did I see that right?) wearing an absolutely filthy anachronistic hoodie and jeans for a guy twice his size, fucking cold-cocks the mail courier over the head, dumps his bag (yes, I’m just standing here staring, and who wouldn’t), finds proto-John’s book (The fuck! Proto-John’s book!), and then steps back into the shadows and is gone.

Well, I…

I can’t help laughing, screaming it, because what the actual hell was that? I’ve done this five million and eighty-nine times and I have never seen that before!

The door opens, and the detective besties are fussing over the mail courier, but they no longer matter because the book is gone. Arthur’s just not as effective without his little friend.

Silly weird filthy criminal. Did you really think you could slip through shadows and I couldn’t follow?

#

So he’s pretty good with portals! Nice! Took us all the way to the woods outside Innsmouth (fucking nasty place), and breathing like he’s fucking dying, he goes loping through the woods, unconcerned about shoggoths or any other dreadful thing, clutching that book like it’s everything he’s ever wanted, tripping over his boots, which are also too fucking big, and I just gotta know.

I gotta know… and I don’t! Do you know how rare that is?

He’s done something to himself, this gasping-shambling-winner-of a human, and I can’t see his thoughts. Ooh, ooh, ooh, I’m excited enough not to just explode him and take the fucking book back.

He stops. Drops to his knees. Holds the book out. Is clearly about to open the fucker.

Nope, sorry, proto-John spoken for. “Yyyyyyallo.”

He doesn’t jump. Goes real still. “I knew you’d be here,” says Arthur Lester who sounds like somebody put him through a meat grinder and then stuffed him into sausage casing and then smoked him halfway and then popped him in a microwave without poking holes so he blew up in there and then scraped him out and squished him back together in the shape of a man.

Gotta admit, I didn’t see all this coming! “That’s a neat trick,” I say, walking around to the front. “How’d you know?”

That sure is Arthur Lester looking up at me, though he’s missing teeth, and you could just slice meat on those cheekbones. “Because that’s how lucky I am.”

Oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy. “You must be lucky, Artie, because I don’t know you! How about that? Looks like somebody sure put you through the wringer, though!” Closer, kneeling down, making eye-contact.

His eyes are that funky color of repeated and unaddressed subconjunctival hemorrhage. He’s just breathing like a bull, clutching that book, looking like he wants to bite me.

“You can see!” I tsk. “That just isn’t fair, is it? We should fix that.”

And he says, “I know where your fucking black stone is, you fucking monster,” and just like that, it stops being funny.

I may not know him (conundrum!) but he does know me, and as the smile slides off my face, he starts to shake, so he doesknow me well enough to know he’s in trouble.

“Do you?” I say, high and light and kind of tight. “Do you? Do you? Because that’s important information, Artie, that I would like to have right now! You wouldn’t go claiming something like that if it wasn’t true, would you? Where is it? On you? Did you swallow it, Artie? Am I gonna have to go digging for gold?”

And he says something else he shouldn’t know at all! “It’s on Earth one-two-four-nine aspect B8, you filthy dickhole.”

Yeah, sooooo… this just got weird? “How’d you know that, Artie?” I say, calm, soft, soothing. “That’s not a designation you ought to know.”

“Because you told me, or part of you. The one you fucking killed,” he snarls, spitting, and his hood slips back.

Oh, that ain’t right. Most of his hair is gone. He looks kinda cancerous, definitely grody, really not socially reassuring. I can’t read his mind, but I can peek at other things, and boy-howdy. “Hey, you’re gonna die, Artie!” I say with great cheer.

“I know.” He clutches the book. “It’s okay now.”

“No, I don’t really think it is, Artie, in fact, I’m getting the idea you don’t really understand the stakes here—”

“I know you promised him to me if I got your fucking stone!” Arthur just screams at me, and there’s blood with bile in it flying out of his throat   and that just tastes deeee-lightful. “I got it! I had it! You were supposed to give him back!”

Oh. I tap my chin.

Behind us, a couple of roaming shoggoths spot us, feel me, and run yipping away into the woods. Yeah, yeah.

“I get it,” I say. “You were dealing with another me. Well, good news! I killed them all.”

“I know!” He screams it, and his voice cracks, and he is sobbing all over the book and himself and there’s blood and snot everywhere. 

“You’re so juicy,” I tell him.

“You killed him before he could do it,” Arthur says in that tiny voice he gets when he’s all they won and I can’t and all that weakling bullshit. 

“So… you actually got the black stone?” I say. “Without John.”

“No. With him.” Such a brittle tone! But at least that detail is consistent. “Then we weren’t going to give it to him. He was going to wake the Dreamer.”

Pfft. Well, I know which one of me that was, and good riddance. “That old chestnut?”

“We weren’t going to do it, and he took John, and… and I…”

“Were you gonna trade, Artie?” I all but sing at him. “Trade John for waking the Dreamer and ending everything including John?”

“No,” he says, spraying more blood. “We were going to trick him. But then you ki… you… you showed up and you… you…”

“I killed him!” I remember that one. Suicidal version of me? No, thanks. “I ch-ch-chopped him to bits, and then I stewed the bits, and then I ground him into meat and I ate the whole thing!” And I laugh.

He doesn’t laugh. Artie never does have a good sense of humor.

“Just let me have this,” he suddenly says. “You don’t know what I’ve done to get him. Let me have him, and I’ll tell you where the fucking stone is.”

“Or I could just torture you for it,” I say with a shrug.

“Go the fuck ahead. There’s nothing you could use anymore, and if you do, you won’t know the trick we did. You’ll lose. Even if you get your stone, you’ll lose, because it won’t be the whole fucking thing.”

I laugh again because eh? “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I open this book. I take John into myself. You get what you need.”

“Or I just take the book, and take what I need, and we’re done!”

His laugh is just crazy, grating, crackling delicious, and I lock it away in my head for future use. “You can’t.”

That’s fucking insulting, so I reach to pluck out his defiant little eyeballs.

I…

I missed?

I stare at my hand, outstretched, and at him. “Huh?” I say, as one does.

“You can’t,” he says. “The trade. I get John.”

“Not your John. Not even a John yet,” I point out.

“He will be. I’ll tell him who he is. It’ll be fine. It’s going to be fine.” He’s rocking back and forth now. “All of it will be fine.”

Wow. “You’re a special kind of crazy, ain’tcha?” I try again. I… miss again? I have no idea how that’s happening. I could just cook his cells and do it that way, but I’m so curious! “Okay, this is pretty neat, and all,” I say. “But that book is due elsewhere right now? I mean, we’re already off schedule, and also, my guy, you’ve missed an obvious out. I can just take you with me and make you show me the stone.”

That laugh, Artie, wow! “No, you can’t,” he says all wetly. “Because if I cross another world-boundary, or even step through time at any pace other than normal, I will fucking die.”

I whip out some pince-nez (like you do) and pop them on to try to see him clearly.

Still can’t see his thoughts. Can see a whole lot else. He was not lying. “Oh, Artie, what’d you do to yourself?” I say, already laughing, because this guy is worn so fucking thin that I think rain would tear him apart.

“I hunted,” he says. “I found a way. And I found my way here.”

“You know, most humans who get into magic of this kind do not generally suffer organ jello-ification? Seriously, what’d you do?”

“I only needed to get here,” he says, and his voice is soft, and he strokes the book cover, and wow, Artie, wow.

“Buddy. Pal. You’re that frail, you can’t take him inside you.”

“I know.”

“I mean he’s gonna kill you. At once. Not even on purpose.”

“I know.”

“You’re gonna pop like a cheap condom.”

“I know.” (He would.) “And if you let me, you’ll get what you need.”

“How in fuck will that get me what I—” And all at once, I get it. My laugh is almost as crazy as his. “What’d you do, Artie?”

“I put it here,” he says, pointing to the most egregious bald-spot, the most cancer-looking area. “Yes. I did. You can’t touch me… and you need this piece. If you don’t get it, your stone won’t work for whatever the fuck you’re trying to use it for.”

And it’s so daring and so wild and so stupid? Not like I can’t kill just him and find it in the corpse? “Grammatically heinous, my boy!” I say, affecting a Brigadier General for a moment. “Seriously, though, you shoved part of my stone into your skull?” 

“I do this. I tell you where. You let me have this.”

“This… proto-John.”

“He’s in there.” He curls over the book. “And I’ll make sure he knows… he knows everything.”

“He’ll die with you.”

“With.”

Oh, Artie, Artie, Artie. “You know that doesn’t work? He wouldn’t be tied to you after death.”

“I know. I made sure he would,” he  snarls like some snarly thing, and that’s when I decide to let him do it.

He’s tried so hard, and he’s got information I want, and just look at him! Obsessed! Gross! Melting! How in fuck will proto-John even respond to this? Oh, I missed you so much that I fucking killed us both and bound us somehow in the Dark World? Yeah, that’ll go over great.

He’s still trying to sell me. 

“Let me. You’ll get what you want.”

Oh, fuck, this is gonna be a ride. “He’s not gonna thank you.”

“I don’t care.”

“You know what? You’ve surprised me, Artie. That’s worth a cup of coffee. Go ahead. Steal your John, then trap him after death. I’ll take the li’l stone-bit when you’re gone, and all will be right with the world.”

And he tells me where it is. What year, exactly. What landmass. Even what region. He can’t get closer than that, but that’s okay. That’s okay.

It’s one of many places those three idiots found. I would’ve gotten there eventually, I tell myself, but let’s be real here: Artie just saved me a whole bunch of pointless Arthur-wasting. I know where to send the good ones now. You know. The ones that don’t get flushed.

He’s not even aware I’m here anymore, I think. Cradling that damn book. Does he even remember he had a daughter? I fucking’ swear, this guy… “Hope Faroe likes your new add-on.”

He doesn’t answer me. Wow, Artie. Wow.

He opens the book.

I’ve seen this a thousand times. That blast of power, that wildness of desperate fire, that light reaching for him like a drowning man for a swimming one and pulling them both under.

He chokes. His eyes go from bloodshot blue to bloodshot gold. “John,” he sobs.

Then he pops like a ripe cherry. Good spread, too! Those bone-bits ain’t never coming out of those trees.

Honestly surprised he lasted that long, given the mess he was. How in fuck did he even get that way? It must have taken years. “Oh, oh, I’ve got chills. Years of looking for John? Of ensuring you’d go to the Dark World together? Ahahaha! Ridiculous! Only you, Artie, only you… oh, yeah, you’re dead, you can’t hear me.” I rummage around in the mess.

Know what’s annoying? I can’t see the sliver.

Fuck.

#

It takes me a month to gather all the goo (thanks a ton, Artie), trick someone into touching the gray stone, and then getting them to tell me where the sliver is, and then I can finally fucking touch it.

Sort of.

Gather it, we’ll say.

Fuck. It’s not that small. Things would definitely not have gone right if this were missing. I don’t even know how I’m going to repair the damned thing, but at least I have the sliver.

Thanks. A lot. Artie.

At least I know where to go.

Gotta go find me a new Arthur. This one is no longer interesting. Without a John—proto or not—it won’t fucking work, as I’ve learned through trial and tribulation, though not my own.

I could just kill this now-pointless-Arthur, but eh… I don’t care anymore. His lucky day.

Before I go alternate-Artie-hunting, though, I just have to go take a peek into the land of the dead.

Well, well, well… whaddaya know. It worked. They’re together.

And shouting at each other. Wow, that is some conflict! Figures that even when dead, even after all Arthur did to pull this off, they both just gotta be dicks.

Music to my ears.

#intermezzo spoilers #malevolent spoilers #kayne malevolent #arthur lester #malevolent fic

[familyvideostevie]

Hi! Could I request 12 on the smut prompts for Steve please? (And I am in my 20s if that helps, I'm just anxious sorry!)

hi!! i'm sorry this took forever. and baby, I'm in my 20s and also anxious, so we're a perfect pair <;3 (thank you for specifying). hope you like this! fem!reader, 18+

“Keep your eyes on me.” __

It's too late to wonder if this is a good idea. The bathroom counter is cold against the backs of your thighs, your skirt bunched up around your waist by Steve's eager hands. His mouth is busy on your neck, tongue and teeth working to give you a mark you'll be putting a cold spoon on before work tomorrow.

Someone knocks on the door. You startle but Steve keeps you pinned against the marble. "Busy!" he yells. He pulls away just enough to look at you, pupils blown but smirk firmly in place. "Idiot," he mutters. "There's a bathroom downstairs." He chews on his bottom lip and squeezes your hips. "Where was I?"

"Steve --" you sigh. You really should put a stop to this right now. But your legs clench as he strokes circles on your bare skin and you can feel him through his jeans and you're so riled up that you allow him to sneak one hand into your underwear. He swallows your gasp with a bruising kiss as he slowly drags his fingers through your cunt, back and forth before he circles your clit. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you buck against him.

"Do you wanna try something?" he pants, worked up on his own from your moans. "It's just an idea, and it's okay if you don't like it, just tell me." You barely understand what he's saying, hips chasing his fingers for more, more more, but you nod. He pulls away and you whine but he's quick to turn you around so you're facing the bathroom mirror, back pressed to his chest. His cock is hard against your ass and he shoves a hand into your underwear again, the other arm warm and sturdy across your torso.

It's strange, seeing yourself like this. Your hair is wild, lips puffy and eyes glazed. Steve looks much the same, a pretty flush staining his cheekbones. You see the outline of his knuckles through the fabric but its not enough. "Steve, hold on --" you shove the panties and skirt down your legs and you both groan at the sight of you bare. He kicks your feet apart gently to spread you a little more, just enough that you can see the slick on his fingers as he fucks you with them.

"Oh god--" you breathe. "Steve." Your eyes flutter shut and he tuts in your ear, the arm around you moving so that he can oh so sweetly grab your jaw.

"Hey, now," he says. "Keep your eyes on me." They snap open and you look right at him in the mirror and he smiles. It's almost criminal how he can look at you so sweetly as he fingers you. "There you are," he coos.

You are so overwhelmed by need that you barely remember you're in someone's bathroom at a party. "Steve," you pant. "Steve, fuck me. Please." His eyes go wide like he hadn't even thought of it, like he was happy to make you come with his fingers and then take you home. And maybe he was, but now that you've said it you know you're going to get what you want.

"Just like this?" he says. He stops touching you just long enough for him to frantically undo his belt and shove his pants down his ankles. He uses the hand covered in your slick to stroke himself before he pulls your hips back a little. You brace yourself on the counter but don't dare look away from him. "You want me to fuck you while you watch?” he asks again.

"Safe to say I liked this idea, Steve," you tell him, wiggling your ass in the air as you do so. His eyelids flutter and someone else bangs on the door but he doesn't bother to tell them off as he sinks into you.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #blurb

[noforkingclue]

Now You See Me

Summary: It was your life to lead, yours. You were sick and tired of people pushing you around to do as they wanted. However, this realisation might’ve come a bit too late for you.

Pairing: dark!Butcher x super!reader x dark!Homelander

Warnings: typical ‘The Boys darkness. Butcher and Homelander both being massive cunts

Author’s Note: So this is just a little idea I had which I made a post about a while ago. I’m not planning on continuing this fic, by the way

Billy Butcher tag list: @mrdcks-spaghetti

The Boys tag list: @captainofmybigwetdream, @scraftskhu35, @zannemes

Dark!Butcher x reader x dark!Homelander fic: @lexxpexx, @ponyboys-sunsets,   @9h9o9u  

Everything tag list: greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites spngingerbread21,  @layazul,  @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee  

You closed your eyes at the heavy, familiar footsteps. You put your hands against the kitchen counter and bowed your head as strong hands roughly gripped your shoulders. You cringed as Butcher leant closer, brushing his beard against your cheek.

“Missed me, love?”

“In your dreams.”

Butcher spun you around pressed your back against the counter. You pointedly looked away but Butcher grabbed your chin. He forced you to look into his eyes. When you tried to look away Butcher’s grip tightened painfully. You winced in pain which caused Butcher to grin.

“Thought any more about what I said.”

“I won’t do it.”

“Yes you will.”

“It’s suicide!”

“We all got to die somehow.”

“I’m not like you,” you spat, “I intend to live a long and happy life. Sneaking into Vought Tower will only lead to my death. Not like you care. One less supe cunt in the world, right?”

Butcher pressed even closer against you. Put of you wanted to phase through him and disappear but you knew that would only cause more issues then would solve. Butcher smirked almost as though he could read your mind.

“Currently you’re too useful to die,” he said, “So try not to get caught.”

“You’re assuming that I’ve agreed to this.”

“Love,” Butcher’s hands moved to cup your face, brushing his fingers against your cheekbones, “You don’t have a choice. So be a good girl and do as you’re fucking told.”

 *

 You wrinkled your nose as you crept through the corridors of Vought Tower. It was all so… glossy and polished. Not a hair out of place. Everything was so manufactured and perfect. You were glad your parents never pushed you into being a hero. In fact, they seemed to go the opposite away. They discouraged you from talking about them and using them which led you, in your teen years, to rebel and use them more.

Which, many years later, led you right into a constricting embrace of William Butcher.

You never hated anyone more than that man. He seemed to know everything about you. From your criminal record to the fact that you had powers. He held your entire future over your head. Of course, not everyone with powers was a hero but it would make your life with your colleagues impossible to maintain.

“I know you’re here. Why don’t you come out now and make both of our lives a lot easier.”

You froze at the sound of Homelander’s voice. You had found an empty room full of computers and you had been looking for any decent information. Butcher hadn’t been clear with what he was looking for. However, you knew the better the information the less likely he would come back immediately.

It might even give you enough time to escape and hide from him.

“Now then,” Homelander shut the door behind him, “I won’t ask again.”

You blinked rapidly as he flicked the lights on before slowly making him way further into the room. You remained frozen to the spot, thankful that you had the sense to remain invisible.

“I might not be able to see you,” Homelander continued, “But I know you’re here. I can hear your heartbeat. It’s racing. Like a scared little rabbit.”

Homelander’s eyes locked with yours, even though you were invisible. Slowly, you stepped away from the laptop and back away. Homelander’s smile widened as he stalked towards you.

“More powerful then fucking Translucent, useless fucking-“ Homelander cut himself off and took a deep breath, “We need more powerful supes in the Seven. Translucent, well,” he shrugged as he continued to stalk around the room, “He was just another box ticking exercise. Apparently every super team needs an invisible man, or woman,” he held up his hands, “As long as they are powerful enough. Admittedly, his diamond skin could be useful at times but most of the time he was a fucking pain. Never really did as he was told. So what about you, are you going to do what you’re told?”

You breath hitched and Homelander burst out laughing. You had heard him laugh before, everyone had on the TV, but this was different. Here he didn’t have to put on his mask. This was the real Homelander. Cold, sadistic, fucking cunt.

“Hit a nerve there, didn’t I? I bet you’re wondering how I knew that. You pulse skyrocketed. You don’t have to be scared of me. Just turn visible and I won’t fucking hurt you.”

The last sentence was said through gritted teeth and his eyes shown red. Ok, Homelander was definitely losing it. Fucking Butcher. If you survived this you were going to do everything in your power to make him fucking pay. You took a couple of steps back but quickly froze again when Homelander’s eye dimmed and he briefly frowned.

“Not a rabbit,” he said, “A little ghost. Very impressive.”

You looked down and saw that you had subconsciously phased part way through a desk. Homelander’s grin widened and even though you knew that he didn’t know what you looked like you were terrified. You had never felt that sense of fear course through your veins, not even when dealing with Butcher. In a flash you darted through a wall and seconds later Homelander came crashing (literally) right after you. You heard the shouts of people as Homelander tried to chase after you. However, you guessed that with all the adrenaline and fear filling the air you managed to lose him.

“Don’t think you can run from me forever, ghost,” he shouted, “I will fucking find you and when I do you’re going to regret ever stepping foot in my fucking building.”

 *

You drew in shuddering breaths as you leant against your flat door. You ran a shaking hand over your face and what just happened finally hit you. You had survived an encounter with Homelander and just by the skin of your teeth. You banged your head lightly against your door and made you enter your flat. Just as you were about to though you froze. Familiar sounds of someone moving about inside made you reconsider your options.

Fuck.

If it was Homelander then you were already fucked. Vought would be on to you and there would be nowhere you could run to. They would find you and most likely kill you. However, if it was Butcher then you might have a fighting chance of escape. There was only one way to find out. Taking a deep breath, and after making sure you were alone, you turned invisible and phased through the door.

You were almost relieved to see Butcher in your flat, making himself as home. He took a sip from what you assumed to be a cup of tea before sitting down heavily on your sofa. He kicked his feet up onto your coffee table (cunt) and looked around. For a chilling second you swore that his gaze paused on you but he quickly turned his attention back to your TV.

You leant against the wall as you continued watching him. Fuck. You would never be free from him either. He blackmailed you once and he’d do it over and over and over again until you stopped being useful to him or died. You didn’t want to think what would happen to you if you stopped being useful. Who would give you a quicker death, Butcher or Homelander?

You didn’t want to find out. You never wanted to see either of them again. You just wanted a peaceful life without any supe bullshit effecting it. With you mind made up you phased back through the wall and turned you back on your old life. You’d return again when it was safer to get some of your stuff. In the meantime, you needed a safe place to stay.

Too bad you didn’t heard Butcher sigh and say,

“So that’s how you’re going to play it. Too fucking bad. I was just being to like you.”

#fanfiction #the boys #reader insert #Billy Butcher #billy butcher x reader #homelander #homelander x reader #dark