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tayytayy12 · 2 days

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From the start | LN4 x Reader

Summary - Reader and Lando have been best friends for years, but reader slowly develops feelings for him, and didn’t want to tell him in fear that he wouldn’t feel the same and it would ruin their friendship forever, so she releases a song indirectly telling him everything, not knowing he’d always felt the same.

Warnings - Swearing

Type - SMAU

FaceClaim - Laufey

Requested - yes - no

Yourusername

Liked by - LandoNorris, GracieAbrams and 4,927,290 others - Posted 01.02.24

Yourusername - Studio sesh 😙

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User1 - OMG OMG OMG OMG

User2 - DOES THIS MEAN NEW MUSIC SOON ?!??!?

GracieAbrams - 💛

Yourusername - 🤍

User3 - She’s so adorable

User4 - Y/n I need whatever you made in that studio like right now pls

User5 - Oh Y/n I fear I can already tell you’ve ate

LandoNorris - HELLO WHY DIDNT I KNOW OF THIS ?

User6 - the first time she hasn’t told Lando something

Yourusername

Liked by - LandoNorris, TaylorSwift and 5,100,104 others - Posted 20.02.24

Yourusername - Surprise !!!!!!! My brand new single, ‘from the start’ is out right now! Along with its music video, written and directed by yours truly 😙 this song is unlike anything I’ve ever released before, it’s a complete and true raw reflection of all of my emotions, and I hope you love it like I do. I love you, enjoy 🤍

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User7 - OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

User8 - KNEW Y/N ERA INCOMING

User9 - THIS SONG IS EVERYTHING WHAT

User10 - The music video is so fun and goofy but somehow so deep at the same time, I love it sm 😭

User11 - Y/N WHO IS THIS ABOUT

User12 - FR SAME

User13 - YES LIKE, WHOS GOT OUR GIRL WRITING WHOLE ASS LOVE CONFESSIONS

User14 - Literally my new favourite song

User15 - Okay this is so about Lando

User16 - Girl what ?😭

User17 - I see their point, the lyrics point to all things that they’ve said about their friendship

User18 - Like what? 😭

User19 - Like ‘Listening to you harp on 'bout some new soulmate "She's so perfect, " blah, blah, blah’ Y/n has said so many times that sometimes Lando just sits there and says everything about the new girl he’s talking too and it bores her to death, I’d say that’s good enough proof 😭

Y/n.Nation

Liked by - User20, LandoNorris and 83,290 others - Posted - 23.02.24

Tagged | @/Yourusername

Y/n.Nation - Y/n was the guest on the Jimmy Fallon show last night !!!! She debuted from the start with its first ever live performance, then done her interview where she revealed that her new hit is about someone very very close and personal to her, her words were-

“From the start for me, is like a one of those letters that people write and throw into the fireplace just to get their emotions out there, but instead of writing a letter and throwing it into a fire I wrote a song and gave it to my fans. Which for me is kind of the same thing, they’re incredibly supportive and loving and I couldn’t be more grateful for them, every single one of them I love with my whole heart. This song is about something that I’ve been keeping to myself for maybe ten years now? Since I was still really young. God that makes me sound old, but it’s about someone I’ve known and been extremely close to since I was a child. And I think when you’re so close with someone, feelings like the one I’ve presented in the song can completely ruin a friendship if they’re unrequited, but the other day I decided it was time for me to ‘man up’ as my mum would say, and I went to the studio, I wrote and recorded the song and shot the video, and I just released it and I let my music do the talking. I’ve still not heard anything from the person I’ve aimed it too, so if I don’t get one I suppose that’s my answer to my ‘confession of love’ that I brought up at least seven times in the song.”

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User21 - Y/n told me she loves me

User22 - I’m crying this is so cute but a teeny bit sad at the same time

User23 - She actually lets us read her diary 🥲

User24 - Oh it’s so about lando 🥲

User25 - It’s so obvious I’m gonna cry

User26 - LANDO ANSWER HER RN

User27 - ‘Since I was really young’ she really has loved him from the start

User28 - Okay this relationship is a need now please

User29 - same it’s not even a joke anymore

User30 - Lando it’s in your hands now do the right thing

User31 - LANDO LIKED THAT HAS TO BE GOOD

LN.Updates

Liked by - Yourusername, user32 and 89,191 others - Posted - 25.02.24

Tagged | @/LandoNorris

LN.Updates - Lando on a podcast recently!!! He never addresses Y/n by name, but I think we’d be right in assuming that’s who’s he’s talking about

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User33 - MY LANY/N HEART HAS BEEN GROWING THIS PAST WEEK

User34 - I need someone who looks at me the way Lando looks whenever Y/n is mentioned

User35 - WE ALL DO

User36 - HE FEELS THE SAME HE FEELS THE SAME

User37 - Y/N LIKED OMGGG

User38 - Gonna die

User39 - I need them together right now

User40 - All the Lany/n haters right now are hiding

User41 - As they should be

LandoNorris

Liked by - Yourusername, OscarPiastri and 2,008,99 others - Posted - 22.04.24

Tagged | @/yourusername

LandoNorris - Just thinking of youuuuu 🤍🤍

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User42 - EVERYBODY WAKE UP LANY/N HAS BEEN CONFIRMED

User42 - SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

User43 - RIP ME

User44 - WHY THE FUCK DID IT TAKE YOU TWO MONTHS TO CONFIRM THIS

LandoNorris - We was in a funny mood, we’ve been together since the day after that podcast 🫠

User45 - SHUT THE FUCK UP

User46 - So, before the even confirmed their relationship, they’ve been on a boat trip, she’s been to races, AND they’ve gone to the beach while we all through that they wasn’t together

User47 - The from the start lyrcis 😩

Yourusername - That was a great coffee

LandoNorris - I made a cute hard launch post and you focus on the coffee you had over a month ago?

Yourusername - It was a really good coffee 🥲

LandoNorris - I’ll buy you more

Yourusername - I love youuu 🥲

LandoNorris - I love you more 🤍

User48 - I’m going to sleep on the highway

Yourusername

Liked by - LandoNorris, GracieAbrams and 2,991,295 others - Posted 22.04.24

Tagged | @/LandoNorris

Yourusername - When I say from the start, I really mean it 🤍

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User49 - This is the kind of love I NEED.

LandoNorris - I love you, I always have

Yourusername - Funny, I could say that same thing. I love you so much more

LandoNorris - Impossible

User50 - This is why I wish my mum had a best friend with a son, cause this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

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hellfiremunsonn · 19 hours

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Something About Her. Steve Harrington x Reader

Something About her.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: Steve is kind of obsessed with you, and you're kind of obsessed with him. Only ever watching from afar until a fight breaks out at the party you're both at.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, physical altercation, reader gets backhanded by homophobic male character, brief mention of blood, forehead gets slightly cut, reader has a vagina, sex but not sex? No penetrative sex, fingering, Steve is called a f***** and a queer in a derogatory sense by a homophobic character at the party. (I will star it out anyway just incase any of you are uncomfortable with that) (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: Real quick, I don't condone using homophobic slurs towards anyone ever. This is not ME saying these things, it is a CHARACTER in the 80's saying those things. I myself am Queer so... ya know... I get it. NOT REALLY PROOF READ FOR MISTAKES JUST FOR THE VIBES (Huge thank you to my bby @rowanswriting for giving this a read through for me to make sure it wasn’t absolute garbage! love u <3)

Wordcount: 4k

Steve doesn't know when his fascination with you started, but he knows that once it did start he couldn't stop it. Anytime he was out at a party he was always looking for you. Subtly over the rim of his red cup, filled with whatever concoction that would get him buzzed the quickest. Personally he doesn't think it's stalking, because he doesn't follow you around any other time, but when he knows you're around, he's going to keep an eye out for you. Robin on the other hand, definitely thinks it's stalking and will make it a point to tease Steve about it whenever she can.

He's only talked to you a couple of times and the two of you wouldn't even consider each other friends but for some reason he always had to have an eye on you, and you always had an eye on him.

Robin would constantly poke into his side and whispering about his "obsession" with you but he would just push her off and roll his eyes. Because someone as pretty as you would never look at him the same way. You were ethereal; Steve might actually believe it if you were from another world, considering he's had his fair share of experience of things that you'd think didn't exist.

He knows you watch him too. Praying you don't think it's weird for catching your eye one too many times, but being constantly enamoured by the way you move and speak, how you captivate everyone around you yet you're completely unaware of it.

Robin decides that after watching the two of you eye fuck each other six more times that she's going to help. She skips over to you and you greet her with one of the brightest smiles he's ever seen. The two of you talking together has four hands flying around with the dramatics of whatever story it is the pair of you have begun discussing and he's honestly surprised neither of you have hit one another in the face.

Steve still, stands with his back plastered against the wall, trying to ignore the dull thumping bass of whatever shitty music was playing, focusing hard on the way your lips moved, trying to get any sense at what you were saying. It takes him a minute to realize it's Robin you're talking to and he's more confused, zoning in on the way your tongue darts out to lick across your strawberry pink lips when he's interrupted from his thoughts by some beefy drunk, boy from high school trying to relive his glory days as he stumbles past him.

He looks at Steve, looks at robin, and then back to Steve. He snickers "Damn Harrington, can't even get Robin to stick around with you? Maybe you are as queer as she is" he sways as he passes Robin and you. Robin freezes, before slowly looking back to Steve, praying tonight wasn't going to end with Steve beating someone up. Again.

"Hey" Steves voice is loud, angry, startling almost everyone, despite how loud the music was.

"Say what you want about me, but don't say shit about Robin alright?" Steve warns.

The drunken asshole makes his attempt to saunter up to Steve, getting far too close to his face before speaking "Or what pretty boy? Gunna get your boyfriend to come save you?"

Steve can feel the hot air of his breath in his face, it reeks so badly of alcohol it almost smells like hand sanitizer. "Get lost man" Steve says shaking his head turning away from him, trying to distract himself from the prying eyes by above everyones heads, sipping his drink.

What Steve doesn't notice is how ridged you've become and how hard your fists are shaking where they are clenched at your sides.

He laughs, thinking he's won whatever show it is he's putting on for everyone and goes to leave before turning back to Steve. "F****t can't fight his own battles, what a pussy"

Before Steve can even fully turn around you've pushed past robin and are standing in front of the drunk, arm pulled back before your tiny fist makes contact with the dudes face. "What's your problem!" You yell. Steve has never heard your voice so loud before. "You homophobic piece of shit? What decade were you born in saying shit like that?" Your hand hurts, like really bad, but you're too prideful to let him see you cry. No one is going to say shit like that about anyone around you, let alone Robin, or Steve.

"Fucking bitch" he spits, blood filled saliva hitting the white tiled floor beneath your feet. His hand raises quick, and without a second thought he lands a single smack across your face with the back of his hand, and then walks away. You involuntary gasp at the impact, while the rest of the party goers shout and follow him but you can barely hear over the ringing in your ears, but you hope they beat the shit out of him outside. You feel a drip of blood form and start to slide down your face from where his large class ring made contact with the skin just above your eyebrow. Your hand trembles as it reaches up to touch the warm liquid before bringing your hand down to see your blood covered finger tips.

When you look up, blurry faces stand around you, and they're all speaking at once, you're unsure where to look, or who to respond to when someone gently takes your hand, pulling you with them upstairs and away from the chaos below. Only when the click of the bathroom door locks do your senses start to come back and you realize you're standing in front of Steve Harrington and that tears had begun rolling down your cheeks.

At the same time you both blurt out "Are you okay?" and Steve laughs in amusement.

"Am I okay? I'm not the one who sucker punched someone twice her size and is bleeding from her head!" he exclaims. He laughs again before muttering an "Oh shit" Grabbing at the nearest hand towel and running it under the faucet. "Come here, sit" he says patting the countertop. You watch him with wide doe eyes, pupils blown from the adrenaline coursing through you, but still you listen, slowly and a little robotically you lean against the counter, Steves large hand holding the side of your waist to help as you hop up onto the counter. He's talking, but you don't really hear him so instead you focus on watching him as he moves around the bathroom, finding things to help with the tiny wound on your forehead.

He dabs the damp towel against your forehead quickly and abruptly. You wince and pull back, your two hands coming up to hold his wrist in place.

"I'm sorry, shit, are you okay? I should have warned you first"

"I'm sorry that guy said that" you say finally finding your voice, it's shaky and a little croaky but it's there.

"Don't be, I've heard worse" he smiles and you let go of his wrist signalling to him that he can continue and so he does. "S'not so bad of a cut, just bled a lot cause it's on your head"

You laugh a little, and the relief Steve feels when he hears it skyrockets. "You've got quite the arm on you, more guys like him should be afraid of you"

You laugh again. "I've had some practice" you shrug and sniffle, pretending to play it cool.

"Oh yeah? You beating up guys in the alleyways behind bars? Lemme see those guns" he pesters, lifting up the arm you used to throw your punch, and you flex it proudly. The muscle bulging and Steve gives it a squeeze.

He wolf whistles. "Wow-ee that's some A plus muscle right there" he teases but short circuits when you look up at him. Mascara smudged just under your eyes from where the tears overflowed, cheeks rosy with a blush or from the adrenaline, he can't tell but his hand comes up to hold the side of your face anyway and he does everything he can to hold himself together when he feels you lean into his touch.

"You're so pretty" he blurts, feeling the heat of your cheek under his palm when he says it.

"So are you" you whisper. You can feel the trembling starting to begin in your bones as the adrenaline wears off, your body finally attempting to come down from the earlier altercation. Steve notices at the first twitch of your shoulder.

"S-sorry" you stutter through your teeth as they begin to chatter along with the rest of your body.

"Stop apologizing for things you can't control" he says taking your hands and placing them on the sides of his waist. He doesn't mean for it to be forceful or sexual when he does it, but his one hand comes between your legs and pushes them apart by your knees, positioning himself between them. "Here, hug me, it'll help with the shakes" He pulls you into him and you're thankful for the tightness of his arms around around you. You sigh into him, feeling the slightest bit of tension leave your shoulders. Steve notices and slides one hand to the back of your neck, pushing in just slightly at the base, massaging it until he feels your shoulders start to slump.

The groan that leaves you was almost pornographic, and Steve has to calm himself down immediately or you might be able to feel how much that little noise had affected him. Steve tried really hard, he did, but he's standing between your legs and you're so close to him that he knows if he shifted just a little you'd feel his dick press into your stomach.

When the shaking starts to stop you lean back from him, head tilted up towards him but your eyes stay closed. Your hands still stationed on his hips, and Steve doesn't stop his fingers where they massage the base of your neck.

"That feels really good" you sigh, eyes flitting open lazily.

"Good" Steve says with a smile, his opposite hand coming up to push your hair back behind your ear. He watches as your eyebrows furrow slightly.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing" you lie. It's the adrenaline. It's like when you come down from a really big cry, and your body doesn't know what to do with all the feelings so it sends them between your legs, making everything in you ache for someone to touch you, for Steve to touch you. You shift on the counter, legs instinctively trying to close, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the insides of your thighs, teasing you.

Steve can feel your heartbeat pick up from where his fingers are still pressed against your skin, and he's watching you with curious eyes. He can sense it, he knows, but he wont make a move unless you initiate it, anything, even if it's subtle. But you have to be the one to start it. With one too many run in's with the end of the world, Steve knows that sometimes when the adrenaline wears off the only thing you want to do is fuck.

"Is it your head?" He asks "Does it hurt?"

"It's not my head" you say as you shake it. "It hurts a little b-but I'm okay, really"

Steve hums, his pressing touch moving from your neck and you have to stop yourself from whimpering at the loss.

"Look at me" he says and you do, eyes darting back and forth between his. "I just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion" he widens his stance, sliding his feet outwards until he's just about your height from where you sit, his big warm hands come up and cup either sides of your face while he assess you.

A loud crash followed by laughter startles the two of you jump slightly. Your hands grip onto Steves waist harder and he's moved forward so now the two of you are pressed together, and he can see it in your face when his stubbornly hard dick makes contact with you.

"Steve?" you say quietly, and he's already preparing an apology in his head. "Um I know we don't really know each other" You swallow thickly. "But um" you trail off, glancing to your hands and where they rest, thumbs slipping past the hem of his shirt, touching the warm skin of his belly. He inhales sharply, and you look at him mesmerized.

"Are you sure you're not concussed?" he questions "Or did that guy really hit me instead and I'm unconscious having a wonderful dream right now?"

You giggle and his cock strains in his jeans.

"I don't wanna have sex with you though" you say quickly. "I mean now, right now, I definitely want to have sex with you, I just, not in a bathroom at a party? I wanted to- shit" You scrunch your eyes closed and take a breath before looking back at him. "I wanted to ask you on a date first"

"You wanted to ask me? Me on a date?" Steve says quietly.

You nod, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. So shy, yet so brave.

'I'm fucked' He thinks. 'I'm going to fall in love with her'

"C-can, we um, can we touch each other? Is that okay?" your hands hold him a little tighter and his stomach tenses.

"Y-yeah, please, can I kiss you?" he asks desperately and you nod, your hands finally reaching up to cup his face. He grabs you by the hips and slides you closer to the edge of the counter, your old converse hitched on the sides of his waist, pressed against his brown leather belt. Your crotch now pressed against his jean covered cock, and he realizes you've been wearing a dress the entire time he's been stood between your legs, and only now has caught a glance at the pretty pink panties you wear.

You whimper when he kisses you. His lips soft and plump just like you had thought they would be, and the tiny groan he lets out goes straight to your cunt and your hips jump ever so slightly. You kiss each other feverishly, sloppy and quick. Every kiss, every smack of your lips, every move of his tongue has your stomach flipping and your hips rolling into him. He's grinding into you without a single care, he could cum like this and wouldn't dare be embarrassed about it when you look like that under him. How could he not.

He does almost bust his load immediately when your hands go for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tugging at the button and zipper until it's all the way down. He breaks the kiss to watch you do it.

"Is this okay?" you ask, fingers dipped into the waistband of his boxers.

"You could do anything you want with me right now and I wouldn't care" He jokes. "So yes this is more than okay"

"Can you touch me too?" You ask with your baby Bambi eyes and god Steve nearly loses it. How can you ask him something so dirty but make it sound so sickly sweet.

"God, yeah, of course I can sweet thing" he says sliding his hands up your thighs until he's under the hem of your red dress, it's covered in dainty little white flowers, and he thinks it looks perfect on you. He searches for the band of your panties before tugging at them until you shift, letting him slide them out from under you until they're dangling off your right ankle that is still stationed on his hip.

His fingers slide easily through your slick and he groans. "Fucking christ"

You giggle again, sighing when he grazes your clit and your knees instinctively try to lock together.

"It's taking everything in me not to bury my face in your cunt right now Jesus Christ, look at her" he praises, watching his shiny fingers and the way they move against you, the way your hips twitch to meet them.

"Her?" you ask.

"Your pussy babe" he says obviously.

Your entire body engulfs in heat, and you can't tell if you're embarrassed that he's talking about your pussy like it's a person, or if it's turning you on even more.

"O-Oh my god" you say, your words slipping into a moan mixed with a gasp. Head tilting back until it hits the mirror behind you.

"Jesus baby, let's keep your head intact alright?" he jokes, pulling you into him with one hand, placing it protectively on the back of your head as you bury your face into the crook of his neck while his finger traces your entrance. Your brain buzzes with electricity and you forget that just seconds before you were tugging at Steves jeans, but then he touched you.

He circles your hole a few times, before easily sliding one of his fingers into you. You whine, open mouth, almost drooling where your mouth hovers against Steves skin. He leans back slightly, chin touching his chest to catch a glimpse at you to make sure the noise he heard come out of you wasn't a sob. But the thought of you crying because of his fingers? He can't imagine what it would be like to have you and your pussy crying on his cock.

"Feel good?" He teases.

"So good" You moan, lifting your head from his neck, staring down to watch his finger curl into you. Forcing yourself to look away to continue your attention to his jeans. Hands shaky has they slip his belt through the loops, pulling at the button of his jeans and tugging the zipper down. You try your best to push his pants down enough to get your hand in so you can finally feel his cock but he's distracting.

"F-fuck" you mewl, and it's high pitch and girly, and if you were alone you'd cringe at the sound.

"Need some help?" Steve offers, stopping his movements and slowly removing his fingers from you, shiny and slick as he helps you to free his aching cock.

"Thank you" you whisper. Once his cock is free you wrap your hand around him, thick, hot and heavy in your palm and he groans, tilting his head back a little before reaching a hand up to tap your cheek, ripping your gaze away from your hand to his eyes.

"Open" hes looking down at you through his lashes, cheeks flushed a perfect pink and his chest moves quickly while you continue to jerk him off. You listen, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out and Steve huffs out a laugh as he slowly slides his two fingers into your mouth. The ones that were just buried in your cunt. You lap at them greedily, body buzzing from the approval when Steves hums in delight, head tiling to watch your mouth.

You pull his fingers from your mouth with gasp. "I have an idea"

Steve raises a brow as you push forward until you slide off of the counter, turning around so your ass is how facing him, both of you looking at each other through the reflection of the mirror. Watching you as you lean your hips against the counter, pulling him towards you by his belt until he's almost touching you. Reaching behind you, you take his cock into your hand, stepping onto your tippy toes until its slid between your thighs, pressed against your leaking pussy.

"Fucking without fucking" you say with a smile. Your hand presses lightly against him so the tip of his cock stays connected to you while Steve moves his hips.

Sliding through your folds over and over as he mimics how he'd snap his hips against you if he were able to fuck you properly. It's probably the hottest things Steve has ever done with anyone, and he knows that he will think about this every single day until the day he dies, and he's absolutely content with that.

His hands move to your hips, where he grips you tightly. Your dress sliding up with each thrust until the swell of your ass is exposed before him. Rippling with each thrust against his lower half, and he tries to stop himself, he does, but he can't. He lets his palm come down on your right cheek, a little harsh, and goes to apologize but the way your knees shake, and the moan that slips out from you tells him you liked it.

"M'so c-close Steve" you force out. Your cheek is pressed against the cold marble top of the counter, and you're pretty sure you're drooling onto it but you couldn't care less with how good Steve is making you feel. "Steve I-" You can barely keep your legs up, but your trying.

"Help" you whimper, and Steve knows what you need immediately. Wrapping a large arm around your waist, holding up most of your weight while still snapping his hips.

"I got ya pretty girl" he mumbles into the skin of your shoulder.

"Are you gunna cum Stevie?" You moan, silently begging he's as close as you are.

"So close" he grunts. "Wanna see that face of yours when you cum, can you do that for me?" He asks sliding his hand into your hair until he's got a tight grip on the roots, tugging gently to instruct you to lift your head up. He doesn't want to be too rough with you just yet, not when you haven't properly been able to have that conversation.

Lifting your head with his direction until you're forced to look at yourself and Steve in the mirror. He looks so pretty, face flushed, mouth slightly agape, his bottom lip slick with saliva. You could cry at how pretty he was.

"Steve, Steve, st-eve, I'm gun-NAH!" you cum hard, all over your hand and his cock. Thighs trembling.

"Fuck you're so hot" Steve mutters. "Gunna cum sweetheart where do-"

"On me, please I want it on me" You say almost frantically. Steve turns your around, helping you sit back up onto the counter so your legs are spread and he's stationed between them. Pumping his cock fast, the noise crude as it echos around the bathroom, slick with your arousal.

"Fuck, fuck baby" Steve says through gritted teeth.

And you're smiling, and nodding, eyes glassed over and so fucked out, and he thinks he might marry you seeing the way you want him, and his cum so badly. He loses it when your hand joins his around him with those final few pumps, and his cum shoots across your stomach dripping down your connected hands to the base of his cock.

He's panting and smiling, and trying to hold back a laugh, watching the way his cum drips down your body, down between the crease where your thigh meets hip, lazily flowing down to join the mess between your legs.

You giggle, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you wait till Steve finally looks up at you.

"You're insane" he laughs, grabbing your face with both hands and kisses you quick.

"Only a little" you say between kisses. "Take me home?" you ask bravely.

"Anywhere" Steve says quickly. he tugs his jeans back up, stuffing himself back into his pants, and adjusts his belt. You hop down from the counter and attempt to fix your hair so it looks a little better. Kicking one foot up behind you, you tug your panties off your ankle and turn to face Steve, shoving them into the front pocket of his jeans. Steve swoons at the sly look in your eyes, and the way you didn't even attempt to clean his cum off of you when the two of you turn to leave the quiet confines of the bathroom.

You giggle again when he interlocks his fingers with yours, letting him pull you along through the sea of people and out onto the front lawn down the street and only a few blocks away until you reached Steves house.

"Yeah" Steve thought. "I'm gunna marry her"

thanks for reading! <3

#hellfiremunsonn #Steve Harrington #Stranger Things #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x fem reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington stranger things #Stranger Things Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington fluff #Stranger Things smut #Steve Harrington fic #Steve Harrington x (Y/N)#stranger things fic

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daisykihannie · 2 days

Text

What could go wrong? Chapter 2 (H.JS)

pairing: Incubus!Jisung x gn arab!reader + bff!Felix

warnings: smut, NSFW, exhibitionism, voyerism, oral, monster fucking, no protection, power exchange, angst (if you squint), fluff (if you squint), phone sex (kinda), orgasm control, orgasm denial, edging, teasing, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, etc.

chapter 1 | chapter 3

a/n: i have written and re-written chapter two so many times and i hate all of them. This is the best one out of all my attempts so, this one will be chapter 2. I wanted to touch more on the whole Jisung Catching feelings part but maybe i’ll do a chapter three later in for that. I’m sorry if this isn’t as good as chapter one. i kinda psyched myself out when writing this bc i’m scared to disappoint you guys after you all loved chapter one so much.

When you woke up again you could feel a weight resting across your hip and a firm pressure applied to your back. Opening your eyes, you were greeted with the bright rays of morning sun dancing across your face, causing you to squint your eyes as they attempted to adjust. As you moved to grab your phone from your bedside table, the grip around your waist tightened and a growl greeted your ears. Luckily you weren’t as startled as the first time you awoke to the demon's presence against you, this time a small smile pulled at your lips instead and you rolled over swiftly to be facing him, the tips of your noses grazing each other in the process.

Your movements caused the demon to screw his eyes shut and his eyebrows to furrow in annoyance, displaying that he clearly had no intentions of getting up yet. When your body stilled and settled into a comfortable position again, his face relaxed back into a peaceful pout and you felt your heart begin to beat harshly against your rib cage. How could a demon, whose entire purpose was seduction and sex, look so damn innocent and cute? It was really starting to give you whiplash and a slight headache as you desperately tried to wrap your head around it.

You figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a moment to admire the larger man in your bed. You lie there with only millimeters between your faces and he truly is a masterpiece, you can feel yourself getting lost in the gentleness of his softer features as your eyes travel everywhere they could reach with the lack of space between yourselves, determined to have his form engraved into your brain. His hand kept its firm grip on your hip bone, almost like he was worried you’d slip away and disappear if his grip loosened even slightly.

“Enjoying the view?” his deep, growling, morning voice made you jump in surprise and it successfully snapped you out of your trance. The bass of his tone shook you to your core, heat beginning to pool in your underwear as your body began to react to him before your brain had a chance to. Right as you were ready to reply with a snarky remark like you normally would to his cockiness, your phone began to ring.

Letting out a quiet groan, you reluctantly flipped your body back over, away from his comforting body heat and grabbed the device. You could feel the demon's eyes traveling along the back of your neck as you read the caller ID. Seeing “Lixie Baby” lighting up the screen you felt yourself getting giddy, having missed your best friend more than you’d realized. Accepting the call and holding the phone up to your ear you cooed “My baby! I missed you so much~” your words earned a deep chuckle from the other side, causing a warm smile to settle against your lips.

“I missed you too Angel, did you do the ritual? Have you been getting your guts rearranged too well to respond to your soulmate?” he teased, trying his best to sound offended at his implications and you let out your own chuckle in response. You heard a slight growl escape the demon behind you and his grip on your hip tightened before he pulled you back towards him. You were pressed flush against his bare chest, his exposed cock pressing into the back of your thigh with how tightly he held your body against his own.

Jisung felt a weird feeling bubbling in his chest when he heard how you spoke lovingly to the other person on the call. It wasn’t anger or anything like that, It was a new feeling. It was something that he’d never felt before and if he was being completely honest, he didn’t like it. It made his stomach twist in tight and uncomfortable knots and the fact that he had started feeling new, weird feelings since meeting you made him frustrated. The only way he knew how to cure frustrations was sex, as a sex demon, it made sense. A bubbling desire to get rid of these disgusting feelings and replace them with much better feelings was what influenced his actions at this moment.

Ignoring the way he held you possessively as you continued your conversation but you decided not to pull away from his toned body, allowing him to manhandle you in whatever way he desired. “God Lixie, why are you so concerned about me getting laid? Do you need that book back so you can get your dick wet and hop off mine?” you teased and you could just hear Felix pouting on the other side as a soft giggle left your lips. Your conversation continued like this, teasing each other in a flirty manner like you two normally did, as you felt Jisung nosing against the crook of your neck where it connected to your shoulder. The flesh under his nose and lips was still painted in red and purple marks, memorializing the night you had just shared with the demon mere hours ago.

A shiver traveled down your spine when his tongue slipped out from between his lips and began tracing the marks on your skin in soft kitten licks and you swatted at Jisung’s hip in an attempt to get him to stop. He was having none of that and you could feel him smirk against your skin at your poor attempt. He began trailing his hand that was resting on your hip down between the plush of your thighs and using his nails to dig into the supple flesh, pulling your legs apart and using his elbow to keep you from letting your legs shut again. He kept your knee bent and your foot firmly planted against the mattress behind your other knee that was still resting comfortably on its side on the bed, the space between your legs forming a triangle shape.

While Felix went on a bit of a tangent and you listened intently, you took his yapping as a chance to pull your phone away from your ear and mute your mic so you could speak to Jisung without Felix’s knowledge. “Jisung. Stop it now. Can’t you see I'm on the phone?!” you scolded him in a whisper and you felt his cock twitch against the meat of your ass in response before he spoke.

“Trust me, I can see that very clearly and since you don’t want to get off the phone when I ask nicely, you get to stay on the phone and be good for me instead.” he growled out against the shell of your ear that was newly exposed from removing the phone from it. “What the fuck are you talking about sung?” you asked slightly annoyed and very confused about what he meant. Sensing your confusion he continued, “You’re going to continue your conversation while I use your pretty body however I want as a punishment for not listening. You don’t want little Lixie to find out about the demon in your bed right? So you better be really good at hiding how good I'm making you feel.” with his words, he unmuted your phone right as you heard Felix calling out to you for a response, sensing you’d been quiet a little too long.

“Sorry Lix, I had to feed Soonie. I’m listening, don't worry.” you didn’t have a chance to argue as you fell back into listening and paying attention to the rest of Felix’s story but you did your best to hide your arousal at Jisungs words and luckily Felix didn’t catch it but you were almost positive a certain demon had when you heard another growl ripping from his throat. Jisung wasted no time once he heard Felix continue to ramble, his fingers slipping into the waistband of your sleep shorts and your into underwear.

He used his fingertips to swipe through your folds, collecting your slick arousal on his fingers as lube before begging to rub slow, teasing circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your breath caught in your throat and you had to bite down on your lower lip to keep a moan from escaping. Jisungs tongue went back to traveling across your neck and shoulder, sucking and nipping at the unmarked skin and causing more reds and purples to erupt just under the surface of your skin.

“Angel? Are you okay? I heard you gasp, what happened?” concern and worry laced your best friend's voice and you had to use all of your power to focus on him and will your voice to remain steady as you spoke. “Y-yeah…” hearing your own stutter, you cleared your throat before continuing. “All is good Sunshine, just um… get scratched by Soonie… seems like she wants to p-play a bit too rough for how early it is… but I’m okay. Carry on with your story. How did Hyune respond to that?” you silently begged him not to push further and you looked at Jisung over your shoulder with a warning to stop, but he was having too much fun watching you struggle to contain your sounds.

At that exact moment the demon decided to push just the tips of his index and middle finger inside of your entrance, using a scissoring motion to tease you open for him. You had to screw your eyes shut as your body shivered and your jaw went slack with a silent moan. “That’s my baby~ you’re doing so good for me.” Jisung whispered against your neck quiet enough to not be picked up by the mic on your phone but loud enough for you to hear. He swiftly rolled you onto your back and your eyes met his in a heated, lust filled stare off as you watched him move down the expanse of your body before he stopped with his face only incessantly from your core. Your eyes were practically begging him to let you get off the phone before progressing further and he shook his head with a tsk.

Your eyes stayed on his as he began pressing open mouthed kisses to the wet spot forming on the thin fabric of your shorts just above your sensitive bud. Your jaw went slack in a silent moan at the sensation and your eyes rolled back into your head momentarily, your reaction only urging him to continue with his languid teasing. He began to make out with your clothed clit and your arm started to drop causing your phone to leave your ear for a moment and he used his sharp canines to nip slightly at the bundle of nerves. Your eyes shot back open and went wide as you stared down at him with a look to ask “what the fuck?”

He didn’t stop his tongue and lips from their languid dance along the slick soaked fabric, eyes still locked on yours as he spoke. “I said to stay on the phone. Keep the phone to your ear, now.” a whimper slipped from your lips in response to his raspy voice, attaching the phone back to its place against your ear and you heard a nervous chuckle leave Felix.

“H-hey um… if you’re busy w-we can always call later…” he sounded a bit out of breath when he spoke, almost like he was panting and before you could respond with a yes, jisung nipped at your clit again causing your body to jolt in response. “N-no Lixie… I- I’m good to k-keep talking. What were y-you saying again?” you hadn’t been able to pay attention to anything the other male was saying but he continued nevertheless. Jisung seemed pleased with this so he finally removed your drenched shorts and panties, wasting no time before attaching his mouth to your bare heat.

He let out a low growl that caused vibrations to shoot through you as soon as he could taste you. He was acting feral at your taste, lapping at your juices and sucking on your clit with slurping sounds like a man starved. It quickly became impossible to keep quiet with the way Jisung skillfully worked his tongue against you and inside your tight hole. Wanton moans began to rip out of your chest and your phone fell onto the bed as both your hands slipped into Jisung’s midnight blue locks, tugging his face against your core, grinding on his nose and tongue.

A growl erupted from the demon between your legs when he noticed that you had discarded the phone and he pulled away, earning a high pitched whine from you. You looked at him with confusion, the room growing quiet and you could hear distant grunts and huffs filling the air. That’s when it hit you, you were still on the phone with Felix and you’d gotten so lost in Jisung’s mouth that you hadn’t tried to contain the sounds of your pleasure. You face grew red as you scrambled to pick up the phone, Felix's moans filling your ear and causing your core to gush at the sounds. Jisung let out a chuckle at your reaction and watched your throbbing bundle of nerves and your hole clenching around nothing at your ruined orgasm.

“L-lixie?” you asked softly and cautiously. You were beyond embarrassed and didn't know how to approach the topic of what was happening. “Fuck angel… you sound so good i just- i can’t help myself.” his voice was more whiny than you’d ever heard before. “M-maybe we should just c-call later?” you asked him in a shaky voice, slight wince on your face in fear.

Before Felix even had a chance to respond, Jisung was grabbing your phone. “Felix was it?” he purred into the phone, Felix's moans quietly continuing on the other side before stopping abruptly when he heard the much deeper voice, earning a devilish smirk from the demon still planted between your thighs. You couldn’t hear if Felix was responding or not as you watched Jisung begin nipping at the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs, your body jolting at the sharp sting that followed each one.

“hmmmm why don’t you come join us? I'm sure my doll will be more than happy to have both of us at once.” and Jisung hung up before anything further could be said. Your eyes went wide as the cocky smirk remained on his face.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT JI!? HE'S MY BEST FRIEND!” You tried to sit up and pull your heat away from him but he was quicker in digging his nails into your hip bones slightly to hold you in place, his face so close that every word he spoke caused hot air to stick to the slick that covered your core.

“No need to pretend that you don’t want each other. Remember, it’s my job to serve you sexually so I know what you truly desire since sealing our contract. The contract allows me to hear every single want and need that your body holds.” he finished what he was saying and placed a light kiss to your still throbbing bud, eliciting a whimper from you. “I-it’s not like he’ll actually sh-show” you mumbled out between the kitten licks Jisung delivered between your folds, barely allowing the tip of his tongue to graze your most sensitive spots and teasing you further. Your body was heating up again as you grew more desperate to be touched properly.

“Trust me doll, he will show.” he purred and returned back to eating you out. He wasn’t nearly as ravenous as before, teasing you with soft licks, light suckles, and barely placing his index finger against your entrance and tugging slightly at the ring but never fully slipping his digits inside. He kept up his teasing and edging to the point of tears slipping from your eyes, begging him to do more but never earning such a reward.

This torture went on for about 10 minutes and you were beyond the point of soft tears, you were practically wailing for him to give you more as your doorbell rang. Your eyes shot open wide, meeting with the demon's slanted eyes and he pulled away from you just enough to speak but letting his words fall against your core. “Come in!” he called out through the apartment.

“What the fuck!? we don’t know who-“ you were cut off by a panting felix in your bedroom doorway. He looked like he’d ran all the way there, cock still tenting his sweats as he took in the sight before him. “L-lix…” you spoke through your tears, jisung taking a moment to suck harshly at your swollen bud and causing you to let out another moan and a cry.

Unfortunately you didn’t get any relief as Jisung climbed off the bed and sat in the desk chair in your room. His eyes were locked on the blonde male as your soaked core was on display, Felix's eyes never leaving you and your body began to heat up in embarrassment. You went to close your thighs and cover yourself up but Jisung let out a low guttural growl, causing you to let your knees fall back to the bed and opening your core up yet again.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Get to work, make my baby feel good~” Jisung purred out, unknowingly adding extra weight to the “my'' and shifted his hips forward in his seat, his monstrous cock on full display. Luckily Felix didn’t seem fazed at all by a literal demon sitting in your room so he made quick work to stalk over to your bed and slotting himself between your open thighs.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty like this~ tears and all.” Felix praised as he caged your body to the bed, pressing his clothed cock against your fully soaked and exposed core. He kissed the tears off your cheeks before catching your jutted out lower lip between his teeth. He pulled at your swollen and pouty lower lip slightly, earning a whimper from you as your hands shot into his long blonde hair and pulled his face closer. Your lips danced together in a fierce battle of dominance, your need overpowering your embarrassment in the situation as you were finally being touched properly.

Felix began rocking his hips against you, deep groans slipping into your open mouth, silvia dripping down both of your chins and down your chest. You desperately needed more after the extensive teasing from Jisung, your hands moving to Felix’s hips and pulling him painfully closer, the barrier of his clothing becoming too much as the grinding continued. The grinding and kissing just wasn’t enough and it was slightly embarrassing to know that you were acting like you were in heat with your frantic movements. You needed to feel full, needed to cum, needed Felix to fuck you open on his cock.

“L-lixie please… need you now… inside please…” you begged against his lips like you were going to go insane if he didn’t hurry up and honestly, you were convinced you might. “You… fuck- you have to let go of me first so I can take off my pants angel-“ his words hit your lips since you’d refused to let him separate from you at all and you reluctantly let go of your vice grip on him with a desperate whine when you felt his body heat leave you.

Jisung remained seated as he watched you cling desperately to the smaller blonde male. At first it was funny watching your desperation as the other fumbled through his movements, clearly he wouldn’t be able to appease you like he did but then he watched as Felix removed his clothes to reveal a toned build and a decent sized cock, causing Jisung to gulp.

When Jisung first saw the man entering your room in a fluffy sweater and gray sweats, he looked far too soft and sweet to be a satisfying partner for how wild you were. He didn’t expect him to have much experience or to be as hung as he was. He was nowhere near as big as Jisung but he definitely had a solid hand of cards to play with. Jisung looked at you and the way you drooled over just the sight of Felix’s cock made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

He remained in his spot as he watched Felix settle back between your legs after stripping and you began rolling your hips along his cock the same way you’d done with Jisung that first time. He hadn’t realized how tight his grip had gotten on the armrests of your desk chair until he felt them snap under his grip, breaking off from the rest of the chair. His focus fell to the crumbling price of black plastic that now rested in his palm and with his focus off of you and Felix, he was able to realize just how tight his chest had grown.

It felt harder to breathe and his stomach was tangled in knots so tight he was sure they’d push any food up and out of his throat. A growl rumbled through his chest, that feeling of almost anger was back again and bubbling painfully against his rib cage, yet he still couldn’t place what exactly it was. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard you screaming out a name that wasn’t his.

“Fuck! Felix- oh my god! you feel so fucking good-" Your screams earned low grunts from your best friend as his hips continued to snap into you harshly, the sound of skin slapping mixed with your wanton moans and his deep groans began filling the room. The smell of sex flooded Jisung’s nose as he struggled to contain himself with the sounds being made and watching you fall apart on Felix’s cock.

Hearing how good another man, a mere human, was making you feel made his blood boil. He hated every second of this, something that was supposed to just be fun was painful to him now. He’s had plenty of threesomes before so this wasn’t anything new but the way he was seeing red as he watched Felix bring you to the brink of your orgasm? That was definitely new. How long has this been going on? Why did he do this? He was ready to tear Felix’s head from his body, he needed to stop this-

“FUCK! Yes lix~ j-just like that! I-I’m gonna- ngghh” you clenched around Felix's cock as your body was sent over the edge, muscles on fire as you came all over his cock. The clenching of your walls as you worked through your high brought Felix to his own orgasm and he pulled out, painting your chest and stomach with his long white ropes. Your body trembled as Felix pulled out with a slight wince and let his body collapse next to you, both of your chests heaving while trying to catch your breath.

“God- I can't believe we never did that.” you mumbled still trying to catch your breath, a soft chuckle following. “We definitely need to do this again Angel~” he hummed with a flirting tint to his voice. He rolled over to look at you, eyes landing on the demon in the process, fear plaguing his body at what he saw.

Jisung’s eyes were a glowing neon pink, fangs visible as he bit down on his lip, blood pouring down his chin and forming a puddle in the ridges of his abs. He saw that the chair was now missing arm rests and bits of black plastic were crumbled on the floor beside the chair.

The sight made Felix tense up and freeze, cold sweats prickling from his pores. You noticed the rigidity of Felix’s body when he froze next to you, opening your eyes again and you met those of the demon on the other side of the room. It was odd how you didn’t feel scared, the same eyes that’d haunted you in the beginning now making you coo internally. Why did he look like a kicked puppy to you?

“Sungie~” you called out softly and held out your hand for him. The lack of terror you exhibited made Felix not only petrified but beyond confused as well. Jisung looked at you, his expression softening for only a moment. It was so quick that you’d miss it if you blinked, but you’d caught it. He really was just a big puppy under that scary dog exterior.

“Come here please? I need my sungie~'' Your voice still showed how tired you were but remained soft and sweet, your focus was entirely on Jisung now and you’d almost forgotten Felix was still laying in your bed. “I-i’m gonna go before he kills me…” Felix’s voice came out shaky but his fear kept him frozen to his place. “No, Lix you stay right there.” you spoke softly, eyes trained on Jisung who still had yet to move.

“Jisung.” your voice was stern and Jisung couldn’t help but react to the dominance in your voice. Slowly rising from his seat and stalking over to you, same terrifying energy radiating off of him, expression remaining harsh to felix but you could see deeper. He wasn’t angry, he was hurt and all you wanted to do was hold him and cover his face in kisses, comfort him and make him feel better.

Jisung made it over to the bed before stopping at the side, body still rigid and powerful in his stance and his eyes flicked over to Felix, causing him to jump back a bit in fear. He couldn’t understand what the fuck was happening and he just really wanted to leave alive but you’d told him to stay and surely you’d never let him die… right?

Once Jisung was in front of you, you looked up at him through half closed lids, still feeling tiredness weighing your body down. You wrapped your extended hand around his wrist and yanked him towards you. His body fell foreword and he had to put his free hand next to your head on the pillows to keep himself from falling on you completely. Your lips collided in a searing kiss, teeth audibly classing together as your tongue slipped between the seam of his lips.

The intensity of your lips on his had him almost melting as an animalistic growl was ripped from his throat and swallowed by your open mouth. His tongue began to push against yours in a heated battle of control, your tongues caught in the small space between your lips as the rolled against one another. A moan left you through the exchange of saliva as your tongues remained on full display for the blonde who was hypnotized by the erotic exchange and Jisung began to climb on top of your still spent body.

Felix could feel his cock coming back to life as he watched the both of you battling for dominance. He couldn’t help himself as his hand made its way down his body and began to lightly tug at his over sensitive member, completely hypnotized by the two of you. Jisung easily found his place between your legs, the puddle of your orgasm under his knees and the release that painted your skin becoming sticky as it dried between your bodies.

Jisung continued to hold himself up with his hands planted on either side of your head as the kiss continued to get even sloppier and more intense as it went on, more groans and growls leaving the demon as he was trying desperately to regain control of the situation. You could feel that he wasn’t going to give up so easy, an idea popping into your head causing you to smirk against his lips.

One of your hands left where they’d rested on his tiny waist, making its way up to his throat and wrapping around the soft flesh and squeezing tightly. A whimper left the demon and you could feel his body shudder against yours and almost melt into you. You took the chance to take over completely, your tongue sliding into his mouth and licking every surface it could reach.

You began to roll your hips against him as he continued to slip into a more submissive headspace. He continued to let out whimpers and whines as he let you do whatever you wanted to him, becoming putty in your hands. The sounds he let out were a harsh contrast to th noises you’d gotten used to hearing. His growls and groans were definitely capable of making you weak in the knees but hearing him sounding so needy and desperate ignited a new kind of fire in you.

Finally separating your lips with Jisung chasing after your touch again, cock still leaking againt you heat and turning more of your body as messy as your kiss had gotten. You were looking up at the demon, body covered in Felix’s cum, a mix of both yours and Jisung’s saliva, and the essence of your arousal mixed with the copious amounts of pre-cum that’d began pouring out of Jisung’s pretty pink cock.

“Why don’t you be a good boy and show Lixie here how good you fuck me hmmmm?” you purred out, his jealousy still radiating off of him. You wanted to reassure him that you are genuinely more than satisfied by just him and the best way to do that for a sex demon was to let them show off and feel the truth in your words than to just hear them.

This got Jisung to perk up, the hurt puppy look leaving him as he glanced over to see Felix stroking his cock at the show that you two had just put on. He couldn’t help but take a moment to admire the blonde, sitting obediently and watching, being a good boy for you just because you’d told him to stay. The power you held over your bestfriend in just a few words had Jisung enamored and a fluttery and warm feeling began to erupt in his chest. He felt a sense of pride mixed with the weird and warm feelings as he looked back to you, the dominance in your gaze piercing through him and making him feel a bit exposed.

Feeling exposed wasn’t something Jisung was used to despite the fact that he'd always been striding around completely naked but this was a different kind of exposure. It felt like you'd tore his still beating heart from his chest and held it so delicately in your palms despite the fact that you could so easily in that moment treat the organ with no care and even squeeze it a bit harder in your clutches and end him, ruin him, break him and his soul with such an easy movement but you actively choose not to. You choose to be gentle, treat it with care, treat it with love, treat him with such care and love…

Love… Is that the feeling he feels? Does he love you?

He held onto that idea as he felt you wrap those pretty, delicate, fingers around the base of his cock and guiding his tip to your entrance. Again, your touch was gentle and kind, your eyes were soft and alluring without any harshness to them. You looked at him and watched him in a way he’d never experienced before. There was something in your gaze that was reaching out to him and he wanted so desperately to figure out how to take a hold of that and never let it go.

Jisung pushed into you slowly all the way to the hilt, pushing his hips flush against your ass as he bottomed out, a small hiss slipping from between your teeth from the pain of his size and the overstimulation. Jisung stilled for a moment and watched as you adjusted to him yet again, once you nodded he slowly began to pull out until just his tip remained inside of you. You took a moment to reach out and grab Felix’s free hand that wasn’t wrapped around his cock and guided his small hand to your lower stomach, pressing his palm against your skin. Felix looked at you confused as you held his hand in place with gently pressure and looked to Jisung again.

“Let him feel just how well you fill me up Sung~ Let him feel just how well that demon cock rearranges my guts.” your voice still purred in a sultry tone but it became a bit more airy as your arousal began to course through your veins again. Jisung didn’t need to be told twice before bottoming out again and angling his hips upward to rub against the sweet spot inside of you, causing that familiar bulge in your abdomen to push against Felix’s hand and wanton moans to begin to fall from yout lips as he set a slow but hard rhythm to his thrusts.

To say Felix was shocked was an understatement, even as your hands gripped the blankets underneath you, his hand remained and his cock continued to leak in his fist. He could feel Jisung’s cock carving out your insides and your body heating up as you got closer to your orgasm. Jisung felt you teetering on the edge too as he picked up his speed, doing exactly the right things to have your orgasm crashing into you full force before you’d expected it.

“Yes! Fuck sung! Just like that thats my good boy! I-Im gonna-” you were cut off as the force of your orgasm kncked the wind out of you and your jaw opening into a silent scream as you came all over the demon’s cock and covered his abs in your squirt. “God fuck doll- your milking my cock so good. I’m gonna fuck you full of my cum just like you beg for, like my good fucking slut!” Jisung’s voice was strained as he worked you through your high, the grip on his cock almost painful as a few more sharp thrusts were delivered straight to your thuroughly abused sweet spot and he was toppling over the edge himself.

He came inside of you hard and Felix let out a gasp as he could feel the force of Jisung’s cum from where his hand remained pressed against your abdomen and that feeling had him rfeaching his second orgasm of the night. He painted his own abdomen in hot white ropes and a deep groan ripping through him as his thighs began twitching at the intensity of it. He lazily tugged at his cock through the after shocks before collapsing backwards on the bed and Jisung pulled out of you with a whine from his own overstimulation.

Out of the three of you, Jisung recovered the quickest. He only had to take a few moments of panting to catch his breath and relaxing back against the end of the bed frame as he watched you and Felix trying to recover. You were trembling and panting heavily, eyes shut in exhaustion and felix was pretty much in the exact same boat, both of you were covered in sweat and various bodily fluids but Jisung couldn’t help but smile softly and that warm fluttery feeling returned.

“I love you” he spoke without realizing and your head snapped up off the pillows, eyes wide and meeting his own set of wide eyes. As you tried to figure out if you'd heard him right, he was launching himself off the bed and running out of the door. He slammed the door behind him as he fled, the force behind it causing the wood of the door frame it crack and splint as your body jolted at the volume of it all. “Did- did he just…” you began, still blinking away the shock.

You could hear a burst of wind in your living room, clattering of objects hitting the walls and the scraping of your furniture moving against your wooden floors. Jisung had went back to the underworld. He’d just vanished without another word. The realization settling into your gut painfully as felix jumped at the loud sounds and your bedroom door flying back open thanks to the broken doorframe unable to hold it closed. After the sounds stopped and your apartment fell eerily quiet again, felix spoke.

“He just told you he loved you… you- Y/Nnie you tamed an incubus…” felix spoke in his own form of shock, hes studied demons and other mythological creatures for years and its insanely rare for any demon to be tamed by a mortal but somehow, you, his best friend had done it. Felix met your teary, wide eyes and pulled you into a hug. Even after everything that just happened, Felix was still your bestfriend and platonic soulmate and he was still by your side as you began to cry, tears and snot surely covering the bare skin of his chest as you were overwhelmed with so many emotions you couldn't explain.

“I- I love him too lix… how- how do i show him? How do i get him to come back? I- I can’t lose him lix…” your body trembled as you sobbed harder against Felix’s body and he rubbed soothing circles into the skin of your back until you calmed down. “Why don’t you go take a shower and get all my cum off of you, then ill take one and get all… my cum off me too and then we can figure this out. You're sticky and gross.” his nose scrunched up at the sight of his mostly dry cum on your skin and his own skin covered in his half dry cum as well. You let out a laugh and wiped all the snot and tears from your face before nodding and leaving the room to take your shower.

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morbethgames · 12 hours

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The Final Part of Chapter 4 Mostly Is Now Live!

So, you guys are probably wondering what the mostly is about. Simply put, there’s a subroute in the final part that I still need to write. Not very long, it won’t be too big of a deal later on, but this scene was blocking me hard. After working on it for 2 months straight I just wanted to move on. Needless to say, if I had to write one more set of variations for how the PC fights the suspect, I was going to go insane. That being said, it is all mostly there. There’s simply one greyed out option is all. I’m going to come revisit this scene when it’s more fresh to me again and when I don’t have to push myself so damn hard and force myself to write it. Along with the final part, I’ll probably be adding a bit more variation to it in general. But, now that that’s out of the way, let me get to the patch notes!

Patch Notes:

Added most of the rest of Chapter 4, which includes another Text Box Investigation Scene!

Added an unlockable extra story of Ryder’s PoV before the after funeral scene.

Multiple gender variable mistakes have been fixed.

Fixed a mistake where Alvarez and Ryder were being referred to as ‘mommy’.

Added a small dialogue variation to Ryder’s train scene where, if you’ve already talked to Alvarez, the PC won’t ask Ryder to clarify details about Alvarez’s age.

Added a small dialogue variation to the talk with Hawks in Dennis’ Office where, if the PC didn’t answer the phone for their brother in Chapter 2, it will reflect that choice.

Fixed the error on my part where the hoplite in the painting in Hawks’ office was being referred to as ‘Roman’ instead of ‘Greek’.

Fixed a bug where, if you chose to talk to Lance first on the train, it wouldn’t give you the option to talk to a second person.

Thank you all so much for sticking with me while I’m pumping this stuff out! It feels like such a weight off my shoulders to be able to just moved on from this scene, and to give myself the room to just come back to it later. Expect the Patreon to pick back up to two posts a week again as I get to start writing all the in between stuff for Chapter 4.5! If you like this story, and you want to support either me or this story, head on over to my Patreon where you can get an early look at extra stories, audiobook readings of this story and other IF’s, original short stories with original characters, and so on.

Patreon Link ←

We’re getting close for sure everyone. Hopefully, bare minimum, by the end of the year, this story will be completed. I’m excited, scared, and worried all at the same time.

Thank you all again so much for sticking with me.

Stay Brilliant, -Vi

Demo Link: https://dashingdon.com/play/morbethgames/the-bureau-wip/mygame/

The Bureau forum page: https://forum.choiceofgames.com/t/wip-the-bureau-chapters-1-3-550k-total-words-updated-03-14-2024/99993

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traumxrei-archive · 1 day

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【 iv. the taste of flowers 】

summary: yuu was sick. okay, so maybe they overworked themself a little while preparing for the debutante, but that didn’t mean they needed to be on bed arrest ! what’s the worst that could happen if they snuck into the kitchen for a snack anyway ?

word count: 1.4k

author’s note: every time i write ruggie i’m like “wow i love this guy sm” and it was the same this time. i hope you like my rendition of him, ruggie likers ^^

[ the perfect debutante series | or read on ao3 (coming soon) ]

Being sick was most definitely not on Yuu's list of things to do for the Debutante. But they were. Sick. It seemed that they had over-exhausted themself after shopping all day with Floyd.

They vaguely remembered Floyd's guilty expression as he brought tea to their bedside. They had told him not to worry, but he seemed to be in low spirits for the rest of the day, according to Azul's report.

And now, well...

Yuu was sneaking into the kitchen.

After being cooped up in the room for so long, they needed some alone time. Alone time that didn't entail Riddle watching their every move like a hawk, or Silver insisting on doing everything for them. Their maids were diligent to a fault really, and Yuu was starting to feel a bit suffocated.

What they weren't expecting was that there would be someone in the kitchen. They stood behind the door. There was a soft humming and the smell of something that had their mouth-watering. Yuu cracked the door open a little. Through the gap, they spotted a pair of fluffy ears.

Ah. So it was Ruggie in the kitchen. Yuu calmed down a bit. The chance that they would be severely scolded for escaping the room had decreased. Still, they knew that someone would check their room soon, and they would get caught, so...

"Master?"

Holy crap. Their soul felt like it almost left their body.

They looked up to see Ruggie tilting his head, "I thought I heard someone, but I didn't expect it to be you, Master."

They got up from their crouched position, "Hi, uh... What are you cooking?"

"A little something for myself," Ruggie suddenly smirked, folding his arms. "What are you doing out of your room, Master? Riddle and Azul are going to freak out if they figure out you're gone."

Yuu stared at Ruggie with what they hoped was a pitiful look, "Please, I need 30 minutes of peace before they coddle me to death again."

"It's because they're worried about you. We all are," Ruggie said, going back to stirring the pot. "But I'm no snitch, shishishi~ Have a seat." There was a stool a little away from the stove, and from this close, they could finally see what Ruggie was cooking. It was...soup. A hearty-looking, vegetable soup, that was currently appealing to them with its scent.

"Are you here for some tea? Or are you hungry?" Ruggie sprinkled some more spices into his soup. "I could make you some soup?"

"What about that soup?" They blurted out. Dammit, they were trying to resist, and yet...

"This soup? It isn't worthy of Master's palette," Ruggie said before putting a lid on the small pot. "Plus, are you sure you wanna eat that?"

"What is it then?" The soup had looked normal enough to them, though they couldn't be sure. Ruggie was famed for using unconventional ingredients in his cooking before. They had heard many stories from Jamil, who found his experimentation interesting enough to talk about. (The other maid rarely talked too extensively, so Yuu had noted it in their mind when he did.)

"Erm," Ruggie's ears twitched, and he looked...almost bashful. "I used dandelions. I saw a few in the gardens and they needed to be weeded out anyway."

"Dandelions?" They cracked a smile. "So you can even cook with flowers?"

"You're not...?" Ruggie shook his head, before leaning his head back into his hands. "It's something my Bi— my grandmother taught me. There are many uses for dandelions, and she used to cook it for us in a soup."

Yuu understood it now. It had been a while since Ruggie had taken a break to go home. He tended to bulldoze through leave days that they set up by taking up other jobs. They ended up having him be their designated maid when the others went on leave. Ruggie was pleased with the setup, especially after they doubled his pay.

Money wasn't a worry to them, given that they were the heir of the Dukedom. But it had once been, back before Duke Crowley had adopted them. So they understood Ruggie's determination, especially with how fiercely he loved his family.

"Why don't you eat some?" Yuu leaned their face into their palm. "You spent all that time cooking it after all."

Ruggie's expression turned complicated for a moment. He hesitantly grabbed a bowl, ladling in a spoonful. His ears drooped for a moment before straightening. Yuu couldn't help but find the subconscious action adorable.

He finally sighed, sliding the bowl in front of them, "Here. Your puppy eyes really are unfair, Master."

"Puppy eyes?" They mumbled, but they couldn't focus on anything other than the soup that was in front of them. Ruggie pushed a spoon into their hands, and they couldn't help but immediately try it.

"Well?" Ruggie asked, ladling his own bowl. It was...amazing. The soup was salty, but rich, and all the vegetables were perfectly cooked— not too soft with a nice crunch.

And that was when Yuu abandoned two things: their etiquette training and their pride. It didn't matter that it was hot, they kept shoveling spoonfuls of soup into their mouth.

Ruggie laughed as he ate his own bowl, "Slow down there, Master. If the chefs see you they'll throw a tantrum because you're guzzling that down so fast."

"But," They sputtered, gesturing at their half finished bowl. "It's so good! I can't even tell which part the dandelion is!"

"The green leafy bits," Ruggie looked proud, if the way his grin kept growing was any indication. "I save the flowers to make tea with." The maid spun around, turning to a cupboard and grabbing what looked like a jar. In it were many dried dandelion buds. "Ah, I also have dandelion syrup," Ruggie gestured to another jar on the shelf. "Jamil taught me how to make them. They don't taste bad if I do say so myself, shishishi~"

Yuu couldn't help but laugh slightly. Ruggie's excitement about dandelion cuisine was very...adorable, if they wanted to put a word to it. "You seem very passionate about this," They said as they took the dandelion tea jar in their own hands. "Would it be okay if you put a few servings of this in my tea cabinet?"

"Huh?” Ruggie's ear flicked in surprise.

"Ah, I don't mean to take it away from you!" Yuu said, suddenly very aware that Ruggie was doing this because he was homesick. How stupid of them to ask for something so selfish. Did they forget everything after spending a few years in luxury? "I know that you're—"

"Forgive me for interrupting you, but it's not that," Grey eyes looked between the tea and their face. "It's... Thank you." There was something more behind the simple word of thanks. Yuu couldn't even begin to digest why Ruggie would say thank you at their selfish request, but seeing the smile on Ruggie's face reassured them that it wasn't anything negative.

That was when the door to the kitchen slid open, "Ruggie, would you happen to know where—"

Yuu looked up just in time to make eye contact with a surprised-looking Jade.

Oh. They were caught. Shit.

Jade smiled, ever the picture of politeness even as his aura turned more menacing, "How serendipitous. I was just looking for you, Master."

"They were just about to leave, right Master?" Ruggie said with a devilish grin. Gone was the sweet expression that just graced his face seconds before, instead replaced by this mischievous look— because he was clearly ratting them out! Yuu just hung their head. They would be scolded less if they left with Jade right away.

Jade kept an iron grip on them with just his gaze as they gave Ruggie a long hard look, "You're going on vacation after the debutante is over. With everyone else. That is a promise."

"But Master—"

"No buts! I'll give you paid leave!" Yuu said as Jade opened the door. "Just make sure to tell your family how much you miss them!" They relished the surprised look on Ruggie's face for a moment before following Jade out into the hallway. Yuu wasn't about to give Ruggie time to retaliate this time.

"Now that you've had your fun, you should return to the room before Azul and Riddle return," Jade chuckled. "They aren't back yet, but I am not above telling them of your...mm, adventures, if it came to it. Even if it's you, Master."

Their previous excitement waned at the thought of being bound to the bed again, "Let's just go now." And that was how Yuu's adventures to the kitchen ended, with surprises, some new cuisine, and a promise.

thank you for reading ^^ if you’d like to read more, check out my masterlist ! like the art ? look at more of dumple's works on insta !

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#/trau writes #live laugh love ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland #twst #ruggie bucchi x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines

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firenati0n · 1 day

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several sentence sunday <3 :)

hello friends :) thank you to @welcometololaland @anincompletelist @suseagull04 @bigassbowlingballhead @indestructibleheart

@thedramasummer @onthewaytosomewhere @cricketnationrise @ninzied @sophie1973

@cha-melodius @orchidscript @sparklepocalypse @kiwiana-writes @tailsbeth-writes

@theprinceandagcd @hgejfmw-hgejhsf for the tags :) :) i finally have some sentences. i have been struggling a lot with reading and writing recently. so, I'm writing something that makes me happy to bring the juice back.

here is a peep at angel!henry sequel. because honestly, writing him experiencing joy at small human things is helping me recalibrate myself and find my own tiny joys. i am doing this for me. it is a love letter to humanity from me to you, but also a reminder to myself

The Victoria & Albert museum is lively today. Henry hasn’t been back to the Cast Courts since he last visited in his time of need, the heaviest he had ever felt, his whole being sagging under the weight of the world’s pain he elected to shoulder. If he stares hard enough, he can almost see a shadow of his former self staring up at Trajan’s Column, can almost run his fingers across the desperation written all over his face as he seeks comfort in Civitali’s angels; his hands clasped and cold and pleading. Now, his hands are warm, nestled in Alex’s palms, calloused fingertips absentmindedly running over Henry’s knuckles. It makes Henry feel grounded, tethered to a reality he never thought he deserved, but has manifested nonetheless. He takes in the statues with a new perspective, a newfound respect. Yes, they endured. Yes, they were seen, and they were loved. But now, Henry is too. Seen and loved, in the way that matters, with an end in sight. Henry’s never been happier to reject eternity.

xoxo roop

+ tags under the cut and open tag as always <3

@priincebutt @rmd-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @eusuntgratie @blueeyedgrlwrites

@getmehighonmagic @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @captainjunglegym @duchessdepolignaca03 @porcelainmortal

@orchidscript @myheartalivewrites @dumbpeachjuice @anchoredarchangel @nocoastposts

@wordsofhoneydew @tintagel-or-cockleshells @sherryvalli @lizzie-bennetdarcy @heysweetheart-writes

@onward--upward @celeritas2997 @inexplicablymine @affectionatelyrs @happiness-of-the-pursuit

@14carrotghoul @cultofsappho @alasse9 @nontoxic-writes @piratefalls

@ships-to-sail @itsmaybitheway @adreamareads

#roop writes #several sentence sunday #fic: angel!henry 2 #idk y'all things have been just Not Great in the house and i have been floating through today very numb and quiet #and i am forcing myself to post this for accountability #but also dopamine #just waiting to exhale if that makes sense. i feel like i have been holding my breath for so long in wait of something that won't come #angel henry in the cast courts is autobiographical #i remember standing there last year feeling so untethered #and hoping i would open my eyes to some kind of answer or push #turns out that's not how it works!#so now henry gets to find answers and happiness #because it is what he deserves #but it is also what i deserve

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meanbossart · 3 days

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I normally don't get too invested in other people's characters (bc I already spend so much time thinking and promptly forgetting stuff about my own) but I've really liked how you flesh your characters out and how they interact with one another in your fic! So I wanted to ask if you have a process when getting asks about your characters or writing chapters for ANE.

Thank you so much! For lore asks I don't have much of a process besides for spilling out whatever information I have as comprehensively as I can. I do try to make it an enjoyable reading experience and to establish a bit of a mood through the writing (for the longer/in-depth replies, at least) to make it more fun for both myself and whoever is reading it.

As for how I come up with them, it's usually something I have already thought about prior, other times I might take a few hours or days to think it through. I'm just having fun so I take my time.

Questions about Companion Drow take some minor research. For the Dryad's love quizz ask, for example, I went and looked at the questions the rest of the companions got and their answers for them - broke it down in a kind of pattern that I could identify and then wrote my Q&As based off of it.

Naturally, ANE takes a lot more prep lol the first 4 chapters in it were complete stream-of-conscious stuff, but it was soon after that when I figured out where I wanted the story to go and outlined the plot for myself. Each chapter gets a bullet-point list of plot beats I wanna hit and roughly how to get there, dialogue is often pre-written in as little or as much detail as I feel necessary. Main plot/twists/ending is already set, with some connective tissue in-between roughed out and subject to change as I write more.

#ask #a novel experience

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meichenxi · 2 days

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languages, travel, identity, grief

Maybe some of you have heard of Xu Zhimo's Second Farewell to Cambridge (徐志摩再別康橋 Translation: Saying Goodbye to Cambridge Again, by Xu Zhimo | East Asia Student). It's an achingly lovely poem about a Chinese scholar who studied in the UK, and how he left so gently, taking nothing with him as he went. It brought me solace over the last year.

I thought for a very long time about how I felt about having to leave China, and what it felt like to mourn for a future that was never going to mine. I cried. How am I supposed to explain why? I'm not Chinese. I've got no family there, or a childhood to look back on. I couldn't explain it even to myself.

That pain was coupled with a type of uncertainty, a discomfort at myself for feeling so strongly. This feeling was not allowed. It meant - what? Something awful, probably. I was a racist, probably. I should hate myself, probably. Fetishization is the word that gets thrown around for white people and their time spent in East Asia at one end of the spectrum - at the other end it's just seen as embarrassing and deeply, you know, cringe. It's a self-interrogation - why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel this pull so strongly anyway, to a country that's not even mine? Why should it matter so much when I leave? I didn't feel like this grief has any sort of legitimacy. But it has taken from September - eight months after leaving - for me to pick up Chinese again.

I felt, for months, hollow and unsettled and drifting from place to place. I opened my textbook, and closed it again. The memories there were too painful. I'm not going to write about why I had to leave, but it wasn't by choice. I had loved the people in the school, even if it was for a short time. When you have no internet and are training eight hours a day, the days are coloured more sharply: bright and hurtful and wonderful all at once. We had no running water. It was in an abandoned hotel. I miss the monk at the temple door opposite the school, always on time at 6am to open it for our classes. I miss the folk at the local shop who invited me to watch films on their projector; once they killed a chicken for us. I miss the woman in the woods who gave me the chestnuts she had picked. I gave the chestnuts to the cook, and we steamed them and ate them by the lake. He wanted me to marry his son; he wanted it so strongly that he brought me pork, and desserts, and gave me paper, and promised me I could have a jade bracelet, that he would buy me a house. I miss the oldest martial arts teacher, who spoke in such strong dialect I could barely understand him. When I was sad and missing home one night, he told me that I should stay after dinner. In the silence and against the cicadas, he started to play the erhu for me. Later, my friend told me that he hadn't know what to say, how to comfort me; I was a foreigner and a young woman, after all. We had very little in common. But nobody has ever played a piece of music for me like that before.

And I miss X, my best friend there and partner in snack-smuggling crime. She is 19 years old, and a janitor's daughter, and one of the wisest people I have ever met. (She also rides an excellent motorbike, and lent me her hanfu, and we sped through the city giddy with our own daring and trying not to be caught.) We got matching haircuts; she had always wanted to cut her hair like a boy, and was too scared to do it alone. When I left, I told her to stay in touch: she shook her head. She said that some people were meant to know each other for some time, and no more. I think the death of friendship by attrition, by - as Elrond said! - the slow decay of time, is one of the saddest things of all. I deleted Wechat. I don't want to read over the old messages. By having this place - her, and the chestnuts, and the cicadas - as a memory, I can tuck it away it. I can keep it close.

I wrote a poem myself on the plane. That was the last I thought about China, the last thought I let myself have, in eight months. I kept myself away from it. It felt like a wound. And against that hollowness, there was constantly the question: Why should I have any right to miss this place? Who I am there? Why does it matter? We are all different people, wherever we go, and whoever we are with; we wear different skins, large or small. In China I was [...]. She was who I was. That name, that I introduced myself to people with - she was bright and friendly and tried to translate things just so. Everybody who goes as the only foreigner to a place - or the only foreigner that speaks the language - is a little bit self-obsessed. It happens. It's unfortunate, and something to guard against. But it also gives you its own kind of identity in a way: your identity is Foreigner. Your identity is a cultural bridge. Everyone you meet, in a country as friendly and curious as China, has questions about you. You stand with your feet in both worlds, and are not really part of either of them. That identity is easy to slip into, like cool water, like trying on new clothes. It's easier that thinking: who am I outside of that? Where am I going? I don't really know. I don't think anyone really does.

And then the second thing happens. I speak Chinese well, by this point. My accent is there, but it's slight. I am short, and have dark hair, and a generally similar build to many East Asians - so the questions I have got in the last few years have changed. Sometimes people think I have been raised here. Sometimes they think I am ethnically Russian, and nationally Chinese. Sometimes I get asked if I am half Chinese. Usually they know I am a Foreigner, 100% white - but not always. There is a peculiar rush that comes from that acceptance; from feeling the relief, just for fifteen minutes, that you belong. It's not about 'passing', or race-bending, or anything twisted - it's nothing so unnerving as that. It's just the human need to belong. Everyone gets tired of being stared at, after a while. And after a while, you start to think - I wish I understood. I wish they understood. I wish this were easy.

But then the conversation keeps going. You don't know a local word, or you misunderstand. You say something in a strange way, or you make a strange gesture, and the glass shatters, and - there you are again, naked again, exhausted again, explaining yourself again. That's the other half of it. There's solace in the Foreigner identity, because that means that's all you are. You don't have to think about your parents, or whether they worry about you so far from home; of course they do. The Foreigner is good and filial and a wonderful daughter. You can craft her into any shape you like. But it also marks you out again and again, endlessly and again, as Other.

There was a paper published a while ago that showed measures of acceptance of non-natives in native-speaking communities. It highlights a strange, but familiar experience to those who have lived abroad - the people who spoke the language to a medium level felt more accepted and less lonely than those that spoke the language to a high degree. It makes sense, and mirrors what I have found with both Chinese and German. When you speak a little Chinese, you are a wonder - a curiousity! Look at the Western girl go! People are kind, and curious, and will slow down to include you in conversations. You are thrilled with what you can access - all this knowledge, that other people don't have! Look how special you are!

And then you get better. And then you realise, cut by cut, that you will never be one of them. You don't want to be Chinese, per se; but you do want to be accepted. You are happy to be British; but you miss China like a wound, an old one, festering, even when it was never yours. How do you tell your family that you are not grieving a lost romance, a beautiful girl, but a language and a life? That there are words of majesty, of playfulness, that will never be yours? You speak well enough that people no longer bother to dumb things down, or explain them; you sit with your discomfort, smile painted on, because - you know. It's not bad. You understand most of it. And on the edge of that circle, smiling uncertainly, following the vast majority of what is being said, you are not clever enough and not witty enough to keep up with the chengyu, the cultural references, the slang, and the raucous laughter around you erupts, and you don't know what you've missed, and everybody says - she's quiet, that one. Maybe all the foreigners are? And all you are doing is sitting and feeling the distance between You and Them as heavy and as stifled in your chest as an ocean of dark.

So you go back. Back to your people. But when you sit with the other foreigners, you are apart. They laugh; what are these nutters doing? The Chinese don't make any sense. The Chinese do this - they do that. You sit there, and then there is a pressure building in your chest too, a discomfort, the desire to stand up and say - well, actually.

You are responsible for everything the Chinese teachers do, and have to explain things in a way that the students understand - Confucian thought, and Buddhist philosophy, translated in pithy bite-size adages for the West. You have no qualifications for this; everything you assert, you feel unsure. Uncertain. Someone else could explain it better, more nuanced, and you need to do more reading anyway - but here you are, and here they are, and you're the only one. And you do know. Not enough, but enough that their jokes, their pains, make you uncomfortable. You feel the need to defend both parties; to be a diplomat, every second of every day. In turn, when the students come to the teachers with problems, you have to translate their grievances in a way that the Chinese teachers will be sympathetic towards. Once I got asked: why do you never join us after class? Why are you always so quiet when you're not working? As a translator, you are always working. Every time you speak, you are working; what you choose to say, and what you choose to not say, and where you choose to intervene. You are building relationships, and disappearing, and you are becoming invisible, and you're a nothing, and you're everyone and you're nobody and nobody realises you are doing anything more than translating at all.

I wanted to stay. I couldn't have stayed. I wanted to be accepted as one of them. I wanted to be accepted for who I was. That means a foreigner. I wanted to be true to myself, which means that I would always be the Foreigner, which means I would always be apart from them. It is that contrast and juxtaposition which causes the grief. And there was never an ending to it, a resolution, a chance to reconcile myself (in China) with myself (in the UK), because all at once I had to leave. The grief comes most from the second arrow - not the pain of leaving, but the bewilderment of not knowing why I was in pain at all.

It's been eight months. Slowly, as spring comes, I feel like I am on surer ground. I can look at my old books, those painstaking notes, and I could look at new ones too and I'm starting to think, because this is what I tell my students, and maybe there's some truth in it - it's okay if you're not perfect. It's okay if you didn't achieve what you wanted to, and that the language - in its wholeness, and who can ever know that? - will never, not quite, be yours. It's the struggle and the process that means that I will know and understand Chinese in a different way, in my own way, in a slanted-to-reality sort of way, that is a treasure in and of itself. There is beauty in its brokenness too.

And there is sorrow, too. The sorrow that comes with easing yourself into a different life, and it holding you gently for a while. I sat there - I spoke to them. It's not only missing a place; it's missing a person you were, a stage of your life, for a time. It's knowing that a place has reached inside your ribs and taken root there - even if you don't return, you can never fully get rid of that again. You are two people now, with feet straddling two oceans. There are parts of you that loved and suffered and hated and grew in Chinese, not English. You can't explain that. You can't even begin. Sometimes - not often - you are a stranger in your own land. The poets spoke of that. In the age of fast travel, of the weekend break, we have forgotten the ways a place can burrow itself inside you, and find its own home.

It's not the same as the grief that someone Chinese will face. But it's still grief. I have put my life into Chinese. Maybe that is all it takes to grow love.

Now, I turn back to Chinese - as a foreigner, as Melissa, as myself. It's a bittersweet thing. I know that I cannot hold all of it. It will spill out, like the sun, and there is no way I can be that without losing myself and my history and my own green woods. But I think I am ready now. I am surer, and a little steadier on my feet.

#langblr #chinese #languages #culture #china #:(((((((((((

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moonlightazriel · 3 days

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Chapter 14: Into the lion's den /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N enters Koschei's lair and finally confirms some suspicions

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Again mentions of trauma and grief.

Notes: I'm so glad that I have almost all the chapters written cuz my fingers are fucking useless now and I can't write 🙄

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

The dark living room was immediately illuminated by faelights, papers scattered around the table, potions and a liquid simmering in a cauldron near the fire. She scrunched her nose at the rotten smell. A screeching, like a trapped creature sounded somewhere behind the closed doors that led to the basement, she shivered thinking what could be suffering in his hands.

Drawings adorned the walls, receipts and terrifying creatures. Her breath hitched as she recognized the circle with wyrd marks used to summon the ridderak. This was even more scary than Baba Yellowleg’s tent, the Matron would send her there regularly to check on the older witch and her home always made her bones cold.

“So..” He cleared his throat, those golden eyes turned to her direction, pinning her in place. “Tell me what. What troubles your heart?” He once again extended his hand and she quietly placed it onto his.

Mantyx almost gasped with the swirling of emotions that hit him when he touched her skin. Anger, hatred, pain, grief, pain was what burned brighter in that array of feelings that clouded her mind. He tried to take a look but he was met with a wall made of pure steel, unbreakable, unbendable and impenetrable.

But another thing caught his attention, singing beautifully to no one hear, a mating bond stood, he had learned everything about it in the years he was trapped there. A bond shared by two people that was stronger than everything, once the bond was accepted nothing could break it. He tugged at the string lightly, watching closely as she startled, her free hand flying to her heart. She didn’t understand what this was.

Near that cabin, a worried shadowsinger yelped in surprise as he felt a tug in his chest, like someone was pulling a string tied to his soul. Lucien looked at him with a raised eyebrow, asking him if he was alright. Azriel just shook his head, hand rubbing circles in his chest, in a soothing manner. His eyes focused back on the cabin door, he wanted to go there and kick it down, rescuing her but he knew he couldn’t.

“I see that you lost someone very important to you.” He pointed it out, going for the easiest approach, usually wasn’t hard to know what troubled people, they were too simple to read, always thinking they were good at hiding their emotions and thinking of him as a god for being able to read them like a cooking book.

“I lost everything.” She quietly replied, Y/N never really opened up to anyone after the war, just brushing their concerns off and focusing on her work to suffocate those drowning feelings. “I lost my sister, the only person that truly loved me, I couldn't even say goodbye. I lost my way, I lost myself after she was gone, and I don't think I'll ever be able to go back to what I was.”

Mantyx looked at her, the despair pungent on the tip of his tongue. The shadows in her eyes darkened as she frowned, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. He took a deep breath, feeling all of her negative emotions fill the void in his chest, he had to suppress a smirk at it, he fed from negative emotions, draining them and leaving the person numb.

“You can’t ever go back, all you can do is keep going and adapt to the change.” He offered and she scoffed.

“I would give anything, do anything to get her back.” Mantyx approached her. It was like the light couldn’t reach it, being sucked into a black hole, not reflecting. If it wasn’t for his proximity she wouldn't even have noticed.

But there it was, resting with an unsettling melody, the wyrd key that opened the gate atop Ramiel, what she needed to get home. She couldn't risk getting it just now, or else he would kill her and all of their efforts would be useless.

“What if I told you that I can bring her back?” He offered and her eyes lifted from the key to his gold orbs. She never knew about the extent of the other Kings powers, if Erawan was that powerful she imagined how powerful Mantyx and Orcus would be.

“You can do it?” She inquired, doubt started to coat her thoughts, she missed Asterin, what if she could see her one last time, or even better, get her back fully?

“You just need to do me a simple favor in return.” She closed her eyes, that was the only way. She shook her head in agreement.

“What do you need?” She opened her eyes, determination burning in that gaze. “I’ll do anything.”

“Bring me Nesta Archeron.” He said and she nodded, Mantyx smiled. His hand extended towards the door that slowly opened to reveal the green island he lived in. “I’ll be waiting for your return.”

Y/N bowed to him, her eyes tracing the key that moved up and down with each breath he gave. She turned around, slowly walking outside, she could still feel his eyes on her when she crossed the bridge, so she didn’t dare to look to where she knew they would be, she kept walking forward until her frame disappeared from his line of sight. Just then she let out the breath she was holding.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel and the others reached her halfway back to the Manor, she hadn't even noticed she had walked so much, her tensed muscles and shivering body were the only indications of the fear she had felt alone in that cabin. Azriel touched her arm, making her spin in her heels, collapsing against his chest. Shuddering breaths left her lips as she tried to calm herself.

“Did he hurt you?” She shook her head and Azriel breathed with relief, his shadows moved around her in a protecting way, ready to strike at anyone who dared get too close to her.

“We should go back, we don’t know what is lurking around in those woods.” Lucien advised, also worried about the fragile form that clung to Azriel for dear life.

They all started to head back, being surprised by the giant wyvern baring his teeth at them, poison dripping from his fangs, he looked anxious, like he felt all of her distress through the connection he shared with his rider, and by the way she pushed Azriel out of the way, stumbling until her chest and forehead were pressed against his nose, he probably felt.

Meraxes instantly relaxed with her touch, sniffing her scent and declaring she was alright. Y/N sobbed against him, her hands rubbing his leathery skin up and down, until she calmed herself down.

“I’m okay, I promise.” She breathed and the wyvern nodded, giving one last look to the males before stepping aside and allowing their access to the house. She let go of him, following the rest of them inside, plopping herself on the couch.

“Why did you go inside? You could be dead now.” Lucien slowly started, worry filled his voice, Y/N had become someone important to him and he couldn’t fathom the idea of her being killed by that damned monster.

“We needed answers.” She simply replied, shrugging.

“And did you get them?” Jurian asked, leaning against the wall that led to the kitchen.

“His name is Mantyx, the middle brother of Erawan and Orcus, a Valg King.” She started, all of the males looked at her. “He was the one who summoned the ridderak that attacked me, he was after Nesta and her powers.”

“Does he have a key?” Azriel asked, his eyebrows furrowed as the engines in his brain worked.

“He carries it around his neck.” Lucien cursed loudly, how would they get it?

“How did you get out?” Jurian once again asked all the right questions.

“I promised him that I would get Nesta.” Azriel's eyes widened. “I just needed to get out to tell you all this, chill.” She said to him, her blue eyes piercing him back in place and he didn’t dare to argue.

“What do we do now?” Lucien inquired, rubbing his temples.

“I don’t know about you, but i’ll have a bath, i’m feeling disgusting.” She said getting up, leaving the males behind her.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her chest ached as she sat in the scalding water, trying to rub all those feelings away from her, but it was useless. She then reached for the book Morrigan had found in the Hewn City, not having time to read it in the trip until now. She opened the book and focused on the fancy handwriting, allowing her brain to shut down from the real world and just pay attention to the words in those pages.

“It was during the night that he came, talking with a sweet voice, promises of a better world and absolution to those who bowed to him and allowed his angels a home. The god of conquest was how they called him.

He brought her, with dark hair and dark eyes, she feeded from life and used the remains to build weapons made of human bones. They called her The Weaver, and her twin, The Bone Carver, one more terrifying than the other. They weren’t angels, they were the gods of death, draining life from the earth and eating our souls.

They talked about how lucky we were, claiming to be princes and princesses from their homeworld. No one knew how they came or where they came from, but all we knew was that it was all related to that necklace, made of a dark stone and with an unknown shape. They had come from the north, many guessed they were a plague sent by the Night Court to terrorise us, but even the High Lord feared them, he couldn't control them, no one could, so they took what they pleased.

It was Celeste Vanserra, the Fireborn that brought us hope, the most powerful fire carrier the world has ever seen. She locked The Bone Carver with the help of the cauldron in the prison first. This made the fae wars easier, but their army was too big to be brought down, so they had to change their strategy.

Divide and conquest is what they called it. They managed to separate The Weaver, and once again, with the help of the cauldron, Celeste and her fire locked Stryga in the woods, in a cabin no one dared to get close to. Whenever a general fell, their army fell with them.

The High Lords followed Celeste to the battlefield, following her command and doing what she said. The final battle was in the lake, where Celeste used her powers to create a fire circle around Koschei and his monsters, trapping him inside, not knowing this was his biggest weakness, her fire was the only thing that could kill him. But before Celeste could, he killed her, piercing her heart with a sword.

The High Lords seeing their strongest fall, decided that they weren’t enough to kill Koschei, so they used the cauldron imbued by their powers to trap his soul to the island. As long as this world still exists, Koschei cannot be killed, his soul is bound to the Earth itself. Only the power of the cauldron or the fire of Celeste can free him from his prison and finally kill him.

With their failure to end the biggest threat our world has ever seen, they erased Celeste’s name from history. If no one remembered her, no one would remember how weak they were compared to Koschei. But her fire was still alive in the blood of her offspring, and the family Vanserra is the closest we have to a chance of killing him, unfortunately those who don’t learn their history tend to repeat it.”

Y/N gasped, the water already cold as she discarded the book and jumped out of the tub, opening the door to her and Azriel’s room. He sat on the bed, eyeing her up and down, following the droplets of water that ran down her curves, but her sombre expression brought his eyes back to her face, ignoring the temptation of looking down.

“What happened?” He asked and she took a deep breath.

“I know how to kill him.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @fieldofdaisiies @blackgirlmagicforever @a-frog-with-a-laptop @going-through-shit @asweetblueberry2

@roses-r-red54330 @mis-lil-red @sheblogs @hibye02 @impossibelle

@glitterypirateduck @zeroangelo13 @sekiro1310 @nelapeach14 @annamariereads16

@just-here-reading @celestialend @donttellthecats @scatteredstardustt @snoopyspace

@asterinblacksword @tsumudoll @georginat12 @skyjasper @anuttellaa

@willowpains @quinzzelx @amysangel @fightmedraco @puttyly

@lees-chaotic-brain @thisblogisaboutabook @esposadomd @stained-glass-eyes0708 @brujitafantomatico

@a-cup-of-nightshade @faridathefairy @bubybubsters @krowiathemythologynerd @joey-hoey

#azriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #moonlightazriel #night court #velaris #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #azriel acotar #azriel x oc #worlds apart fic

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bakubunny · 2 days

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in sickness and in help

hi y’all. i know i rarely write about heavy topics and that most of you are here for the smut, but this has been brewing for some time. this is based off of real life experience, so please keep that in mind. please read all content warnings and proceed with caution.

tags: husband!aizawa, f!reader, depression, intrusive thoughts, suicidal ideation, implied planning, asking for help, hurt/comfort

you hated to admit it, but you hadn’t been yourself for weeks.

shota noticed immediately. though you’d caught his subtle change in the way he looked at you, you said nothing. you weren’t ready.

a leaden feeling sank into your gut. it ate away at the recesses of your mind as life grew stressful. day after day, week after week, the weight on your heart grew with persistence.

it would be so easy, wouldn’t it?…

you knew outright that wasn’t true. but as the pain grew, so did the idea. it stuck, digging its claws into every waking moment. torment curled into your chest and wrapped itself around your limbs so tightly that it morphed into something all too familiar - blank faced stares and sleepless nights, isolation and tear stained pillows. thought after ruthless thought screaming at you to do something to make it stop.

then your eyes started to wander over the things you’d find in various rooms. words jumbled themselves in your head as you imagined how you might apologize. wondering if the only person you’d ever loved this deeply could forgive you, though you’d never forgive yourself.

as you laid on the living room floor, cheeks hot from crying and eyes fixed on the ceiling fan as it spun, you knew it was time.

you’d promised him.

almost as if he’d sensed your need for something, he came out of his office and found you on the ground.

“shota?”

“mm?”

there was a pause.

“you know how much i love you, right?” you ask softly.

he sat down next to you. fingers ran through your greasy hair. you dare not look at his eyes for fear of bursting into tears yet again.

“yes, i do,” he replied.

the gentleness in his voice was like a knife in your gut. you swallowed the lump in your throat. shota waited for you to continue.

tears filled your eyes. “i need help.”

“okay.” he opened his arms to offer his embrace.

a broken sob left your chest. you crawled into his arms, and he held you.

“i don’t trust myself alone,” you said.

shota got stiff for a moment. “you’re afraid you’ll hurt yourself?”

you nodded.

“i’m sorry,” you cried.

the gravity of what was said sank in. he held you tighter. he hushed you and kissed you on the head.

“you kept your promise. i’m proud of you,” he replied. though he tried his best, you could hear the pain in his voice. “i love you.”

“i love you so much,” you said.

shota held your head to his chest. “how can i help?”

#it’s been a long time since this happened but i will never forget how loved i felt in that moment #this doesn’t feel finished but it’s as far as i could get i’m sry #i’ll see y’all later #x reader #tw dark content #tw suicidal ideation #aizawa shouta #aizawa shota #aizawa x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakubunny #hurt/comfort

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coffe-and-tea-time · 9 hours

Note

KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP! KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP!!!

HEHEHEHEHEHE I WAS WAITING TO COOK THIS

Coffee insanely speaking! Thanks Dear, you gimme the perfect excuse to write a second part just in time although I expected the option of talking to him to come first. Not that I'm complaining lol

Post where this suggestion came from

↪︎ ☾ I love to see you ....................................... .......................................☆ I love to hear you↩︎

TW: yandere behavior, delusions, murder of self-preservation, stalking, obssesion, somewhat willing reader, kinda denying of bad decisions

Of course, the best option is to stay still, not because you are enjoying this no no, of course not...

Despite his soft voice that sounds rather familiar, you can't really recall who or where. So the safest option is just giving in at the moment, you didn't know how he could react so the safer the better, isn't it?

A smile starts creeping on your face against your will, seems like you are a rather bad actor when it's required, huh?

“Oh, I'm really glad, you seem like you're finally having a good dream… will it be too greedy if I want to be inside that little dream of yours? Well, if you find that greedy, you won't be able to handle me later”

Hearing a close mouthed giggle following the whisper makes your heart flutter softly, like this is some kind of really romantic scene in his mind. You were able to hear the faint sound of footsteps, he seems like he's doing a little room tour, making it a little hard to hear him.

“Oh Dear, you were researching that thing again?”

It seems like he found his way into your phone, what was he referring to?

“Why do you keep reading so much about romance? Are these words good enough to keep your focus?... Maybe I have to start practicing oral expression? It's been a while since I felt like that, last time was when you downloaded that stupid dating sim… This is truly irritating, the names they use, the way they ‘communicate’ to you; do no justice, I can express myself way better, my love, and how my eyes change when I see you walking by… just... please, I need only one chance, and I promise you won't have a room left for doubts”

Even though he made the effort to lower his voice in order to 'not wake you up', it's clear how his tone is changing with every word depending on the topic; First, a low hint of infatuation, then, what sounds closer to a plead and, finally,...was that...hopelessness?

Honestly, in a normal situation, you would be annoyed by someone searching through your phone but only an idiot would think this man would judge you even if you had pictures of dead people there, more like he's genuinely looking for more of you, despite the fact that it's really not the ‘proper’ way, you can't say it didn't work.

“My beloved Cherry, what can i do for you to talk to me? Those characters seem to steal your attention quickly… I would be lying if I sad I'm not a little hopeful because of them though, you seem to have quite the specific taste, Cherry, and I believe I fit perfectly on them... if only I could find the right moment to get into your routine, to be part of your life…”

Weird that he worries about getting to talk to you with an ideal scene but not worrying about stalking you, but maybe it's kind of understable? Since well, everyone likes to check on their crush on social media even if they take a while to actually talk, even if this guy took it a little too far, he sounds... harmless like his wish is just to win your affection…

wait a second…

Are you truly relaxed in this kind of situation? What is going on with you? Why? Why… well, can't say you didn't ask for this, even as a joke, you know this time is different because it's real, but… why does reality feel like a fantasy right now? Is it because of him?

“Huh, I come here as a routine by now, I still get the same queries, I’m dying to find the answers soon..”

Sensing that lightly sweet fragrance once more makes you know he’s approaching your ‘sleeping’ form once again, making it easy to hear him despite his constant whispering.

“Would you let me cuddle you? Would you let me kiss you? Would you mind if I were clingy? Would you mind if I get jealous? Would you mind if it seems like I already know more about you than I should? I want to hold you my dear, I can’t wait for the day I can just snuggle with you every time we want… I really can’t wait anymore, I need to be closer to you… I guess I have no option other than to talk to you out of the blue, I dislike to be so imprudent, but I promise I will make up for it once you accept me in your life, Love”

You feel a gentle hand slightly caress your cheek as a little peck is placed on your forehead, making you almost smile like a fool if it weren’t for the fact that pretending to sleep is your priority in this sweet moment, unexpected but called for moment.

“Sweet dreams Cherry, I have to prepare what I should say tomorrow, I will put all of my efforts to be my best self to make a good first impression, I hope I snatch enough of your interest to be on your mind even for a moment”

Oh, he is definitely gonna be stuck in your mind for a while, as you try your best to focus on the sounds, you catch his steps as he seems to walk away… but you keep up with your act just in case.

So, tomorrow, huh? Seems like once again you have important decisions in your hand, should you indulge in your fantasy and let him get near you? It also sounds fun to go to him first… But, maybe you should try to avoid him? It’s the safer choice, but do you really want that? He seems safe enough not to raise any of your flags, he seemed so caring for you…

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

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entroart · 23 hours

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Hi there, just a few things

Hi, I'm an artist, and I'm plural too :3. Or at least, I think I am? It's complicated. There's a lot of denial all the time.

You don't have to say anything that you don't want to of course, and answer in as much or as little detail as you'd like to.

So my questions are like.

1) How has being plural affected your art journey?

Im asking this because I have really bad executive dysfunction, and find it extremely hard to actually do what I want to do, meaning not much art practise, but I know that my other alters don't have it as badly.

2) How is your system communication? How did you make it better if its good.

Our communication is very.... poor. There's 3 definite alters, including me, and maybe a couple more, but I never hear about them so idk. Either way, even between just the three of us, I almost never hear anything from the other two. Apparently they have better communication between each other, but idk how true that is cus I can't really ask them.

3) Can you visualise things? I have aphantasia, and it makes me need a lot more references for when I am occasionally able to bring myself to draw. I'm interested to know how it works without that inhibition.

Thank you very much for reading, I love your art and wish all of you the best. <3

Question Barrage!! 1. Well to be fair is mostly everyone doing their thing. Bridget is trying to learn how to art to help me so thats nice (lemme show her progress)

Other alters also draw, for example Abyss that tends to do fruits

Or one of our littles Chain that did art yesterday

So each alter different art and stuff, I think thats how I can answer that question. 2. Our communication is alright, we can talk to each other easily and dont need to write for that, so in that regards fine 3. Yes, we can see a 3D image and rotate it (shit is frustrating cuz then not being able to properly draw makes me feel horrible)

#transgender #lgbtq #art #doodle #original art #disabled artist #plural system

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the-ravenclaw-werewolf · 2 days

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Guidelines

THIS IS AN IMPORTANT NOTICE PLEASE READ!

Hi everyone! If you don't me, I am The_Ravenclaw_Werewolf, or Raven for short, and I am currently writing the reaction fanfiction Main Character Syndrome (With Exceptions)!

You can find me at Ao3 or here on my Tumblr, but after some time, I felt need to set some ground rules.

Do not be rude, mean, or anything similar of the sort towards others or to me. I want everyone to have fun here so please treat others with respect!

Please no inappropriate and or offense behavior and or messages! I have been in fandoms long enough to see and know things for reasons outside my control .

ANY FORM OF CEST/PROSHIPPERS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!

Those who refuse to follow the guidelines, as stated, will be blocked.

Now with that settled;

I understand that there are readers looking more towards the reaction part of the MCS (WE), or just the story in general, but please bear in mind that this is meant as a hobby, something to do for fun. Which means I may not be putting out chapters as fast as you would like, but I find that the joy of writing is taken away when I get pressured and or questioned about the next chapter. I don’t want to abandon this story so I can only ask that you please do not ask questions about updates and what not because then I feel myself pushing back my writing even further when asked every time.

Next is about my inbox, both on Ao3 and Tumblr. I understand you have questions and or are excited in general and I am really happy to answer and respond to them! But I either get TOO MANY questions or get questions that require me to sit down to write out, which leads me to getting overwhelmed by them, thus turning off both inboxes. And if I get too many questions, I feel the need to answer them FIRST before posting a chapter so this leads to a longer put off of both answering and writing. If you see that my inboxes are turned off, please be respectful and wait until I can turn them back on. I will still answer your questions, just only when I can and or when I am in the proper headspace.

I only ask this because I still want to have fun with this and I want my readers to still have fun as well. But I have a life outside of writing and I must ask to have my boundaries respected and if you can all do that, I would be the most appreciative.

Thank you and enjoy!

Raven

#the_ravenclaw_werewolf #the 40 #main character syndrome (with exceptions)#important notice #important post #please read

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bitchsister · 2 days

Note

can we maybe get curt cockwarming bucky,, but he’s just unable to sit still and is being all bratty about it since he wants to get off but bucky won’t let him 👀

This is not the one and only cockwarming ask I’ve gotten! And anon, while there is some gentle kinda cockwarming in this… there’s a lot more happening too…. Because like I’ve said before. I need a muzzle.

(I kinda just did whatever I wanted.)

Top punk baby princess Curtie in this.

Bye

This has been very sloppily edited. It’s pure smut and filth if there’s any weird errors just ignore them and love me for my flaws.

I blame @swifty-fox for a lot of what is in this. But also I blame myself for being the one to write it. 🫶🏼

Look at their beautiful art for our baby Punk Princess Curtie!!

Here’s their art tag. They spoil me daily 🩷

☣️THIS PARTICULAR DRABBLE IS LONG AS ALL FUCKIN HELL AND IS A MESS. ☣️

Because there was no specifications made, this is yet another addition to our Lucky Charms AU!

If you’re not LOCKED IN for THESE THINGS, do not read : Curt and Rosie arguments, injuries and mentions of blood, lowkey blood play, TOP CURTIS, bottom Bucky, Sub Bucky turned Dom real quick, crying, whining, spit, kinda cockwarming? I tried for the circumstances I swear, Daddy is used a few times . Oh. And Green Day.

I definitely have more cockwarming requests. So a cute and sleepy cockwarming drabble will probably happen eventually.

Bucky’s place wasn’t close to campus, but if Curt managed to catch a lift from Rosie or one of his girlfriends, then he’d manage to bribe them into dropping him off near the skate park which was only about a fifteen minute ride away from Bucky’s, if he was really putting his back into it.

He’d gone a week without seeing either of them, and while FaceTime was certainly one of the greatest modern inventions to exist, it didn’t do anyone justice — either the bar Curt was in was too loud, Bucky couldn’t figure out how to add Gale successfully to their call or Curt was balls deep in an essay about the Navier-Stokes Equations and Computational Fluid Dynamics while the other two had free time.

“I can’t go all the way to his place, Curt. I got work in like — fuck. Twenty minutes.” Rosie stared at his watch, gaze fluttering to land on Curt who stood in front of him, batting his lashes as he held his board at his hip.

“C’mon, Rosie. You’re arrangin’ bouquets all day, not protecting the government from cybersecurity attacks.” Curt stepped forward and tapped his nose. “At least not yet, Mister Digital Forensics.” His lashes fluttered again. “How ‘bout the park, then?”

When Rosie told Curt he’d gotten a job as part-time florist downtown, he’d laughed right in his face.

Ain’t no way!

Rosie stared straight at Curt, his lips tugged into a solemn line.

Wait — yo, forreal?

“I’ll — fuck — hey, Monday I’ll get you a coffee. How’s that, hm? For your troubles.” Curt made his voice sound sweet, stood before Rosie with his headphones around his neck, a loose tshirt hanging to his thighs, cutoffs revealing his scabby knees.

He blew an obnoxious bubble with his gum into Rosie’s contemplative face.

A heavy sigh escaped him, his shoulders sagging under the weight of resignation as he realized that continuing this argument with Curt would consume more time and energy than simply giving in. "Fine," Rosie conceded, his tone exhausted. "But you owe me a muffin, too.”

Curt flashed him a smirk once he’d plopped into the passenger seat of Rosie’s old Bronco where nothing but FM sports radio played through the muddied coaxial far older than them.

They chirped at each other for a little while about sports. None of which Curt knew a thing about besides what Bucky had told him. “Well, B says they got a good season ‘head of ‘em.” Curt popped a bubble between his teeth again, fingers fiddling with the too-loose trucks of his board to tighten them.

“You listen to everything he says?” Rosie shot a sidelong glance at Curtis, a brow risen. “It’s almost like you have no singular thoughts these days.” He continued, though he shouldn’t have. “Bucky this, Bucky that.”

The radio statics, but drones on.

That’s baseball for you folks. The Kawasaki kid has ice in his veins! One swing of the bat can change everything.

“I got plenty’a thoughts of my own.” Curt grit his teeth but forced his jaw to relax the moment he heard Gale in the back of his head, reminding him right away that his first reaction is rarely ever his best.

Relax, Curt. Take a deep breath. It’s nothing to get all bent out of shape about. Tell me a few things you can see. What do you taste? What do you smell? What can you touch?

Redbuds blooming in early spring, spent bubblegum, the leak in Rosie’s busted exhaust, the textured and worn down urethane of the wheels on his board.

“Hardly.” Rosie drummed his fingers over his steering wheel absentmindedly, reducing himself to the songs in his head since the radio in his car failed to work half the time. “You think he’s gonna keep you around when you’re graduated? Or, god forbid, you turn twenty-six and Ruthie doesn’t pay for your health insurance anymore? Officially too old for Attorney at Law, Bucky Egan.”

They hadn’t talked about Gale all that much besides the fact that he and Bucky often worked on case studies together and were usually working the same if not similar court dockets — a good friend who he certainly hadn’t dropped to his knees for.

“Fuck off with that.” Curt waved his hand at Rosie, his head shaking in disbelief and his expression one of grand theatrics. “Ain’t mine or nobody else’s fault you ain’t been laid in months. Maybe if you weren’t such a fuckin’ downer, man,” he pulled his shirt up to tighten the shoelace threaded through his belt loops. “You been on my back about it now for a while.”

“Well, all you do is talk about ‘em.”

“And, so what!?” Curt tapped his board a few times over the dashboard to taunt him and make a big, loud fuss. “You goddamn leech! You suck the fuckin’ life outta me, Robbie!” Curt was huffing through his nose, red in his cheeks and far from remembering the things he could see, taste, smell and touch. “You know Nora calls you Rosie Raincloud?” He was being venomous now, his fangs deep in Rosie’s flesh. “‘Cause you fuckin’ smother us with it, Robert. We hardly know what to say to you these days.”

Rosie had stomped his foot over the brake in one of the picturesque neighborhoods, nestled in a dreamy suburban wasteland, so different from the city.

His chin wobbled and his gaze denied Curt the satisfaction of seeing it reduced to a puddle — that hurt, but he could only really blame himself.

It wasn’t the first time he’d taken a swing at Curtis Biddick and got hit back twice as hard.

“You don’t gotta say nothin’.” Curt swung the passenger side door open and jumped out, his head sticking into the window for one last twist of the knife in Rosie’s chest. “Coffee shop ain’t even fuckin’ open on Mondays.”

Rosie peeled off, leaving Curt to hop on his board and kick his legs as hard and fast as he possibly could, his headphones tugged back over his ears and the volume turned up as loud as it could go.

City of the dead, at the end of another lost highway.

Signs misleading to nowhere

He tried his hardest not to think about how he had acted, and the things he had said to Rosie — in truth, Curt was better equipped to handle what Rosie had been saying to him since after all it was his own opinion, which he’d reserved the right to.

Curt didn’t need to scream at him the way he did, or bring up Rosie’s sudden knack for draping a wet blanket over every conversation.

It didn’t get them anywhere.

His mind drifted so far away and his chest heaved with ragged breaths as he kicked his legs to the beat of the drum line in the song he listened to.

Angry, sloppy, reckless.

He stopped to take out some energy on the railings of concrete neighborhood staircases, finding his inability to make it down all the way in a front side a new irritant to focus on instead of the guilt he felt for hurting Rosie before his shift at the flower shop.

Until sunset he occupied his mind — or, until his exhausted body had failed him for the last time and sent his face into concrete. “I hear ya.” He mumbled at the sky, assuming it was all karmic as he reached into the grass nearby to grab his phone which had flown out of his pocket the first time the railing swiped him right between his ass cheeks and straight to his tailbone.

His body ached, his screen was cracked, there was glass in his thumb.

He hardly announced his presence anymore, fucking up the gate code a few times due to the shakiness of his fingers and dropping his keys to his feet while he attempted to unlock the front door, a wild and unabashed string of cocksuckingmotherfuckingpiecesofshit falling from his lips once he’d kicked the door closed with the back of his heel, limping into the kitchen to nose around for a snack, although he had really expected Bucky to be on his second glass of wine by then, his iPad an inch from his face as he browsed the internet for a new dinner recipe.

“Hey,” Bucky called from the garden where he lounged in his tightest swimming shorts — the ones that showed off the thick muscle of his thighs and the curve of his toned hips. “Hey!” He’d been calling to Curtis from the open French doors that lead to the pool, the sun still too bright to realize Curt was bleeding from an unknown source on his face with his headphones still blaring music into his brutalized eardrums.

Where have all the bastards gone?

The underbelly stacks up ten high.

“Dammit, Curtis.” Bucky got up from where he was laying, riddled with irritation that Curt didn’t come squealing into his lap like he always did, attacking him like a sucker fish on any bit of skin he left visible.

His footsteps weren’t detected by Curt that peeled a string cheese layer by layer, half of his body reaching into the fridge to find something else to eat. “If you’re gonna use my money for things like this, at least give me the satisfaction of -“ he’d reached to pull Curt’s headphones away from his ears which had inadvertently caused Curt to whip around, bright blue eyes starkly contrasted by the flow of crimson that stained his lips and neck.

This wasn’t the first time, nor the last.

Still, Bucky let out a sigh as Curt continued to feed himself strings of cheese, blinking up at Bucky as if nothing had been out of place — though, even John would admit, this got easier each time.

“What was it this time?”

Curt sighed, his shoulders shrugging. “Don’t even remember.”

He was so lost in his own thoughts about his fight with Rosie that he could hardly recall what he had landed and what he hadn’t — he had no notes to give himself and nothing he could set his intentions to improve on later.

He threw his body around for four hours and got nothing out of it. And, not to mention, he may have lost a friend.

Bucky shoved his face in Curt’s neck once he’d pulled him nearer, so damp with sweat and radiating heat like the surface of the sun. So bright, so warm, so absolutely gorgeous. “Need to keep all your braincells the way they are.” He murmured, drawing in the scent of him while his lips pressed kisses to the salty heat on the soft flesh of his neck.

Curt still felt sore about what he’d done to Rosie but with Bucky in front of him like this, his hands groping his sides to pull him closer, it grew more and more difficult to think about anything else. “C’mon, m’fuckin’ filthy, Bucky.” He whispered, his voice barely there.

“Oh, I know.”

The sun continued to set beneath the hedges in the garden and the breeze that blew through the open doors had cooled him down enough, but Bucky had done very little to stop his sweating — his palms splayed over the softness of Curt’s hips, the small of his back, the curve of his neck. “You need me to kiss it all better, don’t you?” Bucky could taste the metallic sting dance over his tastebuds. “Need me to lick you clean, hm?”

Curt had still felt the hot sting of anger in his belly, the annoyance with himself for getting it all wrong, the frustration of having no control over what he said, his emotions, and how he reacted to them.

He pushed himself forward, chest to Bucky’s until he was backed into the center island, his skin stained down to the neck of his tshirt. “You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” The blue of his iris had darkened like the deepest parts of the ocean — the most dangerous. “Can’t wait to have me down your throat, huh?”

Bucky could hardly suppress the expression coloring his features as a searing chill trickled over every inch of his body. “Fuck,” his palms flattened again over Curt’s sides and down to the curve of his ass where he grabbed two handfuls, pressing his body closer and closer. “Look at you.”

He looked fucked up on himself, mesmerized by his own power, his own influence — Bucky was the softest, warmest putty between his bloody fingers. “Been thinkin’,” Curt grabbed Bucky’s jaw, forcing his lips to part as his own grew inches away. “When you cut your finger. Made me think, ya know — it made your face get all screwed up, made you whine a little.”

Bucky had sliced his finger clean open on a new set of knives Gale got him for Christmas months ago, the blades still sharp as the day he brought them out of the box.

“Think you can make me whine?” Bucky’s voice had drawn itself deep into his chest, teased by Curt who leaned himself in as if he’d finally give Bucky what he wanted, a true taste of what he knew he was missing out on, just to pull away a flash him a grin with front teeth slicked with blood.

“I can do anything.” Curt chirped back.

He pressed his hand into Bucky’s chest again, the other cradling his jaw as he walked him backward and himself forward, a wall behind them eventually where Curt slotted his leg between Bucky’s thick thighs. “What’s the over under?”

Bucky liked to gamble with his work buddies on Saturdays.

Curt would sit by idly near a high stakes poker table or the screen where Bucky and his friends would bet on ponies and he’d drink boozy milkshakes and flirt with the cocktail waitresses he had no interest in for a couple complimentary vouchers for the buffet where he only used the soft serve machine or the gift shop where a collection of cute coffee mugs were sold, and he had his heart set on acquiring them all without spending a dime.

“Not a chance.” Bucky tilted his head back against the wall, his narrow gaze fixed on Curt who hooked his fingers over the waistband of Bucky’s swimming shorts. “I don’t make bets on thoroughbreds without a track record, baby.”

Curt had yet to reveal this particular side of himself.

Sure, he was tough.

He’d bust his lip, his ass or his nose and get back up giggling. He’d fall off and get right back on. He’d argue his side of the story, he’d stand firm in his beliefs.

But he’d never claimed to be dominant in the way he’s portraying now.

The fact that he could wasn’t so much a shock, it was that he chose right then to do it.

“Smart man.” Curt shoved his fingers into Bucky’s mouth, holding him still with his thumb curved beneath his jaw. “On your knees.” He hooked his fingers a little tighter and guided Bucky down to where he balanced on his haunches until his knees fell forward, forcing him to sit on his folded legs where Bucky stared up at him expectantly.

So fucking beautiful.

He already knew what to do, as he’d done it for Curt plenty — his cutoffs were shucked down to his ankles and kicked across the room, his bloody tshirt following suit. Bucky had a hard time figuring how he’d be the one whining instead of Curt until he felt the familiar sensation of tiny fingers threading through his thick brown waves, tugged a little tighter than ever before.

“Go on,” Curt whispered in a shallow breath, “Get me wet for you.”

Bucky could hardly believe his ears, the shock drawing him quickly to obey a Curtis who was typically mounting himself over Bucky right about now, spouting off about how Bucky’s cock is so big and how he can feel it in his tummy.

He worked his tongue over every curve and vein of Curt’s cock only for hips to be drawn closer to his face, his eyes brimming with a sudden surge of cock-teased tears, “Fuck,” Curt grumbled, the blood drying now over his still damp and glimmering skin. “Look so fuckin’ hot with a cock down your throat.”

Rather quickly the spot in Curt’s belly where he held his rage earlier was replaced by the butterfly feeling of having Bucky’s mouth on him — until, of course, Curt had coaxed him into position atop an expensive area rug in the living room, knelt between his thighs once he’d removed Bucky’s slutty swim shorts from his hips.

“Didn’t know how pretty ya’d look like this.” Curt took in the sight of a pink-cheeked Bucky, his thighs spread and his cock achingly hard, curved deliciously over the little trail of hair beneath his bellybutton.

He’d yet to let out a whine, but if he didn’t feel Curtis closer to him soon, he’d be waving a white flag as he went down with the ship. “Kiss me,” it came out in an almost bashful plea as his eyes scanned the lips before him, the dull dried blood brought to life again each time Curt licked his lips. “Please.”

“Ohh,” it was an almost taunting coo. “Got your manners, huh?” A dribble of spit slid past Curt’s parted lips and between Bucky’s spread thighs, his cock slicked gently past the hole that tensed at the sensation. “Relax for me.” Curt whispered, his hips grinding his length against Bucky’s which already twitched. “Show me how good you are.”

Bucky hardly knew if he was able to be good, but he’d try. “Please.” He whispered again, though he was careful not to allow his desperation to show. “Just fuckin’ kiss me.”

Curt rolled his eyes, spitting again but that time it was at Bucky’s chest, tinged pink from the blood still lingering on his tongue. “You don’t make the rules, John.” He basked again at the sight before him — glowing cheekbones, parted lips, hands reaching to spread the dampness Curt had spat onto him around his chest and into his own mouth.

“Not when I got you lookin’ like this.”

It seemed Bucky had leaned into it, his body still tense but his eyes soft as could be.

Curt rut his hips between his cheeks, a rumbled string of groans bubbling from his loins as his right hand milked a couple little pearls of precum from Bucky’s cock that throbbed beneath his grip. “Y’like this, don’t you?” He whispered softly, his usual playfulness still dripping over every word; sticky sweet.

“Yeah, baby.” Bucky gasped, still willing his gaze to focus on what was before him although he was hardly able to discern if it was real or not. “Gonna fuck me?” He felt another sting of anticipation dance over each notch of his spine.

Curt grinned deviously, little body slotted between Bucky’s thighs that could easily overpower him but wouldn’t dare. At least not yet. “Need to get you ready for me,” he reached forward, his fingers slid gently into Bucky’s mouth and over his soft, warm tongue.

It wasn’t long before Curt could hardly stave off his excitement, fingers gentle but prodding against Bucky’s hole that took a finger to the knuckle easier than he’d been expecting, a gasp following suit. “Fuck,” Bucky whispered, his hips instinctively twitching at the unfamiliar sensation. “Fuck — fuck, fuck,”

A second finger, a third.

Lube from a drawer in the coffee table slicked over Curt’s thick fingers as he worked them into Bucky whose brows furrowed, pillowy pink lips parted as gentle huffs escaped them.

“Talk to me, Daddy.” Curt whispered, knelt down between Bucky’s thighs like a predator sizing up its prey that just so happened to be twice the size of himself. “Do I make you feel good?” His fingers worked Bucky open while he pressed rough and starved kisses over his thighs that twitch every now and then.

“Yeah, baby.” Bucky sucked a breath between his teeth, his heart flipping in his chest once Curt’s fingers had found his prostate.

He held in a whine that crept up on him in the very back of his throat and Curtis could tell. “Such a good fuckin’ boy, Curtie. Fuck —“ Bucky threaded his fingers through Curt’s hair, chest heaving once his fingers found a rhythm.

Curt could hardly believe his eyes, falling in love again with a new version of Bucky he’d never met before — all soft hues of pink and deliciously tanned skin, lips glistening with spit and his gorgeous eyes half-hidden behind eyelids that fluttered. “You look so pretty like this.” He mouthed at Bucky’s balls and the base of his cock, pressing sweet kisses against his sensitive skin.

Bucky could hardly deny himself what he wanted anymore as he whispered a gentle plea, “Fuck me.”

Curt hummed between his legs, sitting up slowly to observe yet another angle once he’d carefully withdrew from Bucky altogether to line their hips up, his cock eventually replacing the fingers that gripped Bucky’s thighs instead to spread them wider. “Think you’re ready?” He leaned his chest over Bucky’s, chaste kisses pressed against his open mouth.

“Mhmmm.” Bucky mustered, their kisses hot and wet and sloppy — uncoordinated and needy. He’d never wanted anything more in his life than this. “Put that big cock to use for once.”

An interesting spot he was in to be making snide remarks, Curtis thought, and so he gave him exactly what he’d wanted.

He lined himself up nice and gentle before snapping his hips forward, pulling Bucky closer by his thighs once he’d abruptly buried himself within the tight, wet heat before him.

And there it was.

A long winded whine that started low and gentle had died out high-pitched and breathy right into Curtis’ mouth who continued to lick, kiss and nip at Bucky’s wet lips. “Oh, listen to you.” Curt drawled, allowing John to adjust before his hips had found a slow rhythm, watching as the man beneath him writhed.

“Gonna have you fuckin’ cryin’ for my cock all the time now, hm?”

Bucky choked back a whimper he couldn’t even pretend to hide, desperate and sweat slicked hands grasping onto Curt — anything to hold. “Feels s-so— fuck, baby - “ he could hardly form a coherent thought once Curt picked up his pace, hand hardly big enough to wrap around Bucky’s throat but he kept a tight grip, nonetheless.

Bucky still felt a little shy about this.

A little out of place.

Eventually, the unfamiliarity and pain had quickly tumbled and grew larger into an indescribable pleasure once Curt’s hips had little to hold back any longer, fucking into Bucky relentlessly who took it like he’d been meant to all along.

Uh-uh-uhs were forced out of him, his thighs spread wider and his eyes managing to focus again when he began to pant like he was reaching the finish line.

Curt was so far from done with him.

“Ah-ah,” he withdrew abruptly, watching Bucky writhe again and attempt to pull him back in. “I got you all worked up, don’t I?” His hands smoothed over Bucky’s damp curls, tugging gently. “Takin’ my cock so good, never knew you were such a fuckin’ —“

Bucky sucked in a deep breath and used his legs to flip Curtis onto his back, knocking the wind out of him.

“Think you’re tough now, huh?” He still looked like a fucked-out mess, his eyes half lidded and his heart pounding in his chest. “Had your cock in me and forgot how easy Daddy can have you gagging for him.”

Curt tried to push Bucky’s hands off of him, his cheeks still slathered in dried blood turning pink beneath the mess. “Had you close-“ his rebuttal was quickly snipped once Bucky had slicked his fingers in with lube and brought them between Curt’s cheeks, hooked into him and pulling him closer.

“Get the fuck off me.” Curt tried to put up a fight but his body had been betraying him as his thighs spread for Bucky, his feet lifted from the floor as he moaned at the roughness of it, a punishment it seemed for denying Bucky the pleasure he’d been so vulnerable to receive.

“Nobody takes it like my baby does,” Bucky basked in the familiarity and the tightness around his fingers that hammered into Curt until his thighs were shaking and the back of his knees dripped in sweat. “Isn’t that right?”

Big, fat tears had once again revived the dried blood that had smeared itself over his face by then, every moan that rattled out of him tumbling into a choked sob. “Fuck you.” He whined, his white flag waved with confidence as he went down with the ship Bucky had since abandoned and yet he still managed to put up a fight. “Mother fucker.”

“Oh, that’s not how good boys behave, Curtis.”

Fingers were replaced with Bucky’s cock, Curt’s features softening at the familiar sensation, the one thing he’d ask for on death row.

This is his truest Last Supper.

There was no movement by Bucky, though.

He buried his cock deep into Curtis, swearing to himself that when they were just like this, he could see the bulge of his cock in Curtis’ little belly. “You know what happens when you’re bad, don’t you?”

“I wasnt!” Curt barked, desperately trying to withdrawal from Bucky and snap his hips back again. “I wasn’t bad - I- I wasn’t-“ he was a mess of tears again, the emotions of the day crashing down on him in a heap. “You fuckin’ cocksuckin’—“

The exam he failed, his fight with Rosie, his busted face, and now this.

“Nah,” Bucky held Curt’s thighs to his chest, his cock staying right in its place, not an inch of movement. “Gonna stay just like this until you can show me how sorry you are.”

There, Bucky realized, was his place.

He had never minded being vulnerable with Curtis — in fact, vulnerability was his strong suit.

At first, he was the worst out of the two when it came to expressing his feelings, his thoughts and his emotions.

In the end it was only ever because of the judgement he feared of receiving for loving Curtis. Someone younger than himself, more reckless, with more life to live.

“I’m sorry,” Curt sniffled loudly, a puddle of old blood, tears and a runny nose that threatened to bleed again, the drip metallic and sour in the back of his throat. “I’m so sorry — I - I’ll never be bad again, I promise.”

They both knew a lie when they heard one.

“I’m so good for you.” Curt arched his back, anything for a little friction against his suddenly neglected and angry looking cock. “Look at me — I’m all yours, Bucky. Every part of me — I—“ he sobbed again, reaching down to touch himself but he was abruptly denied, his wrists held above his head. “Fuck me till I can’t fuckin’ breathe.”

Bucky felt sick for being so turned on.

A whimpering, whining, crying Curtis before him with a hot and hard cock that leaked beautifully against the little trail of hair below his bellybutton. “Oh, my pretty baby.” He cooed, reaching forward to wipe his crybaby tears away and granting him just a bit of movement when he did. “I couldn’t let you forget, honey — look what I’ve done to you.”

Curt tried again to surge forward and gain an upper hand, but it was disastrously useless.

Bucky was far stronger than he, even despite being fucked open just a moment ago. “Dunno what I’m gonna do with you.” He murmured, pulling away from Curtis at once and bringing him gently to his feet, holding him against the wall where Bucky felt he’d be doing his knees and Curt’s back a favor once he lifted him up off the ground and around his waist.

It was brutal after that, and for once Curt was unsure he could handle it. “Too much! T-too much,” he whimpered, but Bucky could hardly be bothered. “It’s too much — I can’t-“

If it was truly too much, Curt knew what he needed to say.

A safe word was set in stone the first time Curt had passed out and hit the floor, his brow split open.

All he cared about when he came to was finishing, though — even with an almost-crying Bucky and Gale in his face, worried beyond reason.

“Yes, you can, baby.” Bucky groaned, knowing full well Curt’s orgasm was dependent on the completion of his own.

Didn’t matter how much Curt was fucked.

If he wasn’t full of it, he just couldn’t get off.

A rather endearing blessing, but a curse just the same.

“I can’t Bucky, I can’t.” A wreck he was — and Bucky loved reducing him to such a state. Babbling, whining, his voice strained through the tears he choked on. “S’too much.”

Luckily, it was enough to sputter Bucky’s hips forward, hips rolling into Curt to milk his orgasm while Curt’s hole fluttered around his cock, his little body pulsing as he threw his head back against the wall where he thumped a few brain cells loose.

Bucky reached up to hold the back of his head, clicking his tongue. “There you go, honey,” he whispered gently to a Curtis whose body trembled through an earth shattering orgasm, “Let it all go, baby. Look at how much you’re givin’ me.”

Curt’s body was covered in sweat, blood, tears and now a splattered mess of his devotion to Bucky — hot and wet; sticky and so fucking sweet.

Bucky plopped them both onto the couch, Curt’s body wrapping around him and refusing to give his cock back despite it growing softer by the minute. “I love you.” He hiccuped into Bucky’s neck, the emotions flooding back to him once he’d been dumped right back into his reality — the one where he failed his test and more than likely lost a friend. “So much.”

“C’mon, Curt. Y’know I love you more than anything.” Bucky smoothed his hands over Curt’s damp curls, pulling his face away from the curve of his neck to look at him. “What’s goin’ on with you?”

He couldn’t talk about it now.

Just wanted to be here, in Bucky’s lap, the warmth of their love still burning inside him. “Later.” He whispered, sniffling loudly. “I’ll tell you later.”

#💌#yoyo writes #this was insane #I’m insane #lock me up #curtbucky #lcau

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jo-harrington · 2 days

Text

Gratia. (An As Above, So Below Story)

Gratia. Charitas. Solamen. Grace. Charity. Peace. The oath of the Knights of the Holy Order.

Summary: You and Eddie-- separated by time and endless suffering--don't realize how many strings keep you connected on the web of fate. What players are there trying to cut those strings? And when will you both find out that they are unbreakable?

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!OC (The Knight - Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)

Warnings/Themes: Soulmates, Kas!Eddie, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Minor Character Deaths, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Supernatural Encounters, Religious Elements, Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References

Note: So...originally this was going to be one long thing. A tale about the Knight and Eddie and their unbreakable bond. And I wavered about how relevant it would be to the larger story. How relevant are any of these blurbs to the larger story? But if there's anything I've learned writing AASB, it's that I'm really writing the whole thing for myself. And after finding myself in an odd state of grief that kind of just keeps getting worse over the weekend, I know that this little fic...and the two that follow...really are only going to just be for me to help me get through it, so I need to be true to myself and write them anyway. **So if you do read this, please know it can be read in tandem with As Above, So Below. And you should have at least read the Prequels, with maybe some bonus points for Genesis. Iif you've read the Hymns, this is set before Nachzehrer.**

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

“God is a comedian playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh.” ― Voltaire

November 10, 1986

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"She's not suffering anymore. Tranquilla."

"Thank you, I know. She's been sick for a long time. She's at rest now."

"Mom brought mostaccioli. And chicken cutlets. She's setting it up in the other room then she'll be over. You should get some, you need to eat."

"I'll be alright, thank you for coming."

Today was the final day that you would spend with your Nonna.

Well, a more accurate description was that they let you have it.

Let you.

Let you have one day to sit on that stiff funeral home sofa. To stare at her, unrecognizably still in her casket, as friends and neighbors swarmed to offer their condolences. To mourn with you.

But somehow also separately from you.

And tomorrow, after she was behind a cold slab of marble, you'd be off again. Creeping closer to your own death until one day you might be placed in a plot adjacent to her.

Together.

But not really.

If there was anything left of you.

It wouldn't do to think of that today though.

Today, you would sit here. Enjoy your break and bask in the remnants of her soul that still lingered in and around her body.

It brought you some comfort to feel it move the way she did.

It danced like she danced around the kitchen, the boundaries of it crinkling like the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. A phantasmic remnant of her lovingly worried gaze was on you every now and again, creating the urge to say "I'm ok Nonnie." To lie to her, like you always did. And whenever one of her friends knelt their own aging bodies to pray at her side, you could practically see the softness of her cushion their jagged edges, comforting them.

You didn’t dare go up yourself though.

Not yet.

Not unless you wanted the Funeral Director to haul you out of the casket because somewhere deep down you just wanted to crawl into it with her and scream,

“Take me with you. Don’t leave me like I left you.”

Because you were not ok.

You closed your eyes as a phantom hand touched your shoulder, as it attempted to soothe the pain deep inside you but only managed to stir up another kind of pain. Another kind of mourning.

If only he was really there, you could ask him to take you with him too. Take you away from here to wherever he and Nonna would wait for you.

An impossible request.

The weight of the sofa shifted beside you and you opened your eyes. You expected to find Fortunata or Antoinette—two of Nonna’s closest friends who could claim a spot beside you if they truly wanted—but instead you found Gabriel’s stiff inhuman posture and expressionless face staring ahead of him at the casket.

“You could have helped her,” you said instead of a greeting. What good would a greeting do? “Healed her.”

You briefly wondered if you'd imagined the corner of his mouth quirking before he spoke.

“And if I told you I had? If I spared her a worse fate? Lessened her pain? Lessened yours?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.”

“Then I won’t tell you.”

You turned back to watch the casket with an unsatisfied hum.

Time passed and you sat silently together as you fought to keep your emotions in check with Gabriel's presence. You weren't nervous, per se; more annoyed. Angry, even. Questioning why he was here on this day out of all days.

All your life, you explained away his presence as a guardian. Unseen and unknown to everyone but you. He used to protect you or so you could recall, but as you got older that seemed to stop.

And he was more of a harbinger of doom than a deterrent of it.

Well, not doom.

Fate.

Or God's will or some shit like that. You didn't know anymore. Didn't care. You only cared about getting to the finish line. Freeing your soul of this curse. Getting your prize.

Heaven. Home. Peace with the ones you loved.

With Nonna.

With Eddie.

So if Gabriel was here, it meant something was about to happen. Something unsavory. Something...

You blinked and he disappeared from your peripheral vision suddenly, and just beyond the space he had previously occupied, stood a man in a black cassock.

Jinette approached you but you didn't give him the satisfaction of your attention until he said your name and offered his condolences.

"May I sit?" he gestured beside you.

"Seat's taken," you responded coldly.

"Ah, your mother, yes," he nodded in realization, and you watched him pull a chair up from one of the rows behind you.

You wouldn't be the one to tell him that your mother hadn't shown her face since you arrived back in Chicago late last night. She had done her duty, arranged the funeral and called you home. Beyond that her obligation was almost over; she could be free.

There had been a brief moment between the two of you when you let yourself into Nonna's flat and found her at the table surrounded by paperwork and old pictures, and you thought for the briefest second that this might be a turning point. That she might exhume whatever love she used to have for you, buried so deep in her heart, so you wouldn't have to mourn alone.

Instead she said she was sorry, then kissed your cheek and left.

And really you only had yourself to blame at the disappointment that punctuated the interaction. How could you have expected anything more than that when the bar was already set so low?

"California is a long way to come just for funeral rites," you said once Jinette was settled.

"I'm afraid that's not what I'm here for."

"Then to attend a funeral of a very devout woman," you amended.

"I'm not here for that either." You would give it to him, the remorse plastered on his features almost looked sincere. "Unfortunately, there is a very dire situation and the Order is in need of your experti--"

"No," you cut him off swiftly. "Tomorrow. You can ask me to go tomorrow. Not today."

The usual coldness of his gaze returned and he addressed you stiffly.

"You cannot refuse. Must not. This is your duty."

You turned to him, hand shooting from your lap of its own volition to grab his robe and pull him close enough that your noses practically touched.

The funeral goers around you began to murmur--your Nonna's friends whispering in fear and shame, saying a prayer to spare them of whatever wrath would befall you for defying and possibly harming his eminence--but you ignored them.

You knew you might pay for it later, but for now your rage was warranted.

"Don't lecture me about duty," you hissed at Jinette. "My entire life has been about duty. Her life too. If you want me to go? You'll beg me. Not guilt me. But I promise that the answer will still be no."

Something wicked flickered inside of you, and you wondered if you could smite Jinette. Just a little bit. If you could channel the deep-rooted grudge against your plight and let him feel the consequences that waited to befall someone who had nurtured it.

Then you felt a slight disturbance in the room.

The calm of Nonna's soul was shaken from its bliss, and you could practically hear the sharp, punishing clicks of her tongue as you fisted Jinette's robe tighter and tighter. The flame of the candles beside her casket flickered, the leaves on the flower arrangements that filled the room began to wilt, and the whispers around you got louder until they roared in your ears.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as the feeling of Nonna's disappointment surrounded you--filled you--and you fought it for as long as you could.

But if anyone here was going to reprimand you in this room, in this world, it would be her.

You let Jinette go and fell back into the couch with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. He heaved several heavy breaths and patted his chest pathetically.

"Tomorrow," you told him as Nonna's soul and the murmurs of the people around you settled back down into a serene silence.

The tears finally fell after he left, and you closed your eyes as Eddie's ghostly touch softly wiped them away.

"Tomorrow..."

November 6, 1983

Twang.

He enjoyed it.

Twang.

Enjoyed plucking the guitar strings and letting the reverberation travel along his fingertips and into the very core of him.

Twang.

Deep down in that dark pit where you seemed to hide, every note was like a starburst of brightness and good feelings. Things so foreign and forgotten to him now, yet still so integral to Eddie Munson.

He wasn't Eddie anymore though.

So he resented the fact that he enjoyed it so much.

"Play something," you would whisper in those hidden depths, like a devil on his shoulder, and he constantly fought the temptation to follow that urge. "Play me a song, I know you know how."

He never gave in though.

Could never give in.

It was bad enough that he hid you from Henry, that he even listened to you at all. But feeling something--doing something--was better than feeling nothing in the boring, timeless eternal void of the Upside Down. So he would allow himself these brief visits to the trailer, he would tolerate your soft words and the ever-present softness of the ghost that seemed to haunt him here, so he could pluck a few twangs of the guitar strings and bask in the sparks of euphoria they would bring.

And it was enough. It had to be enough.

Then, when he got bored or hungry or irritated by you, away he would go again.

"I would argue that me being annoying is the reason you still keep me around."

He hissed at you and pulled his hands away from the guitar spitefully.

Twang.

He watched as one of the strings seemed to pluck itself and debated whether he could reach out and take a swipe at you, but there was a sudden pain beneath his sternum. Odd, seeing as he barely felt pain in this body now. He clicked his claws together contemplatively, then hesitantly rubbed at it to soothe the ache, and as he did, he felt the echoes of your soft sigh somewhere deep inside him.

He faltered for a moment, unsure if he should feel some sort of satisfaction that he had comforted you, or resentment that he had fallen for it.

He hated you. Hated your presence there. Hated that you were somehow here when you left him to this fate. Hated that you made him weak again when Henry had remade him to be strong. Infallible.

You might very well be his downfall one day.

And still he couldn't fathom being without you again.

He growled deeply and, unexpectedly, the trailer shook around him, walls clattering, remnants of knick knacks falling.

For a moment, he watched it in awe. Believed that he was the cause of it. That the power Henry had helped him unlock had been activated with his spite.

Until everything started to shake.

The Upside Down became unsettled, the very ground beneath him shifting with some seismic agitation. Roiling and churning, changing.

There was a cacophony of restlessness through the collective consciousness as all of the creatures of the Upside Down felt the disturbance. As Henry felt the disturbance and questioned its origin, because it had not been of his design.

Almost immediately, he was singled out amongst the masses, ordered to his Master's side.

Who else could find the cause of this turmoil than Henry's right hand? His loyal servant? The Beast he created to strike on his behalf, to herald in the end?

Eddie didn't hesitate.

He left the trailer and took flight swiftly and dutifully, beating his wings powerfully to get to Henry as quickly as he could.

To get away from you as quickly as he could.

You and your comfortable constant presence in the respite of the trailer.

“Do not be afraid. Our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.” ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

#aasb #as above so below #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #Eddie Munson x oc #Eddie Munson fic #stranger things fic

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