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cinebration · 3 years

Text

What I Mean (Sherlock Holmes x Reader) [Request]

Hi lovely! Love love LOVE your work! You’ve got some truly amazing stories 💝 would I be able to request a Henry!Sherlock Holmes x reader one shot where the reader has feelings for Sherlock but thinks that he doesn’t like her at all? — Requested by anon

Warnings: none

Gif Source: acecroft

The first time you saw Sherlock, you fell in love. It wasn’t because of how he looked or how he carried himself. It was how he brushed past that insufferable Constable Lowell, ignoring the man’s protests with a wave of his hand. The way Lowell became flustered and upset and the way DI Lestrade laughed at him made your heart swell in your chest. After the last five months of verbal bullying from the constable, you were supremely satisfied to see him humiliated.

Sherlock frequently appeared unexpectedly at Scotland Yard. You learned to recognize his presence in the building before you ever saw him. There was something about the way he moved through the place, like it was of little consequence, that you could feel. It reminded you of being caught out in a storm with lightning striking nearby, the hair on your arms rising as static built up in the air.

You didn’t meet Sherlock until your fourth month of employment. What had started as a typing job had turned into secretarial work—with no increase in pay to account for your extra duties. You strode into Lestrade’s office with a thin smile and said, “If I’m going to be mitigating your literacy blunders, I expect to be compensated.”

“That’s out of the question. You are a typist and are paid accordingly.”

“Well, then, in that case…” You dumped a huge stack of folders in front of him. “I don’t need to inventory these.”

Lestrade stared at the stack in displeasure.

“Oh, and they haven’t been properly sorted. I’m only meant to type, not to organize your chaos.”

“Now wait.”

“I expect a ten-percent increase. That’s what a proper secretary gets paid. Oh, and the title. I want everyone to know I am not a mere typist.”

The muscle in his jaw jumping, Lestrade reluctantly agreed. Sweeping the files up in your arms, you strode out of the room, light on your heels.

Sherlock leaned beside the door, a faint smirk playing on his lips. You stumbled, surprised by his appearance.

“I thought I was the only one who could so easily maneuver Lestrade,” he said.

“He makes it too easy,” you managed to say.

Sherlock’s eyes skimmed the files. “They’re already organized, I see.”

“The trick is making him think only I can do this job.”

“Clever.” Then he was in Lestrade’s office discussing a case, leaving you standing there flushed.

Sherlock took to greeting you cordially each time he passed by your desk after the incident with Lestrade. Sometimes he didn’t meet with Lestrade at all, instead opting to leave you with a message for the detective inspector. Sherlock never spent long at your desk, much to your disappointment, but the few minutes he spared you each time were enough to make you float the rest of the day.

You had taken it upon yourself to have all the necessary information on all of Lestrade’s cases close at hand. Sherlock often appeared to ask Lestrade for information regarding something he had read in the paper or heard from others. The first time you furnished him with a small envelope of the relevant information, you had been pleased to see genuine surprise in the consulting detective’s face.

“You are quite indispensable,” he remarked. “I don’t know how Lestrade managed anything before you.”

“Poorly, I would imagine.”

“I heard that!”

Smothering a laugh with your hand, you settled back at your desk and tried to think of something else to say to make Sherlock linger for a few moments. Before you could, he dipped his head and left.

You didn’t know why you kept entertaining the idea of interacting properly with Sherlock. The society rumor mill claimed the man was impossible to nail down and seemed uninterested in any of the ladies. It was supposed he, being an eccentric, was possibly too obsessed with his sleuthing hobby and therefore poor marriage material anyway.

Still, you flirted with the idea until you saw him interact with his sister, Enola. He smiled at her and praised her for a particularly thorny case she had unraveled.

Oh, you thought with dismay, feeling all hope leave you. He treats me like his sister.

The realization settled deep in your bones. It had been fruitless all along, the special treatment you had accorded him, the way he seemed pleased with you.

Of course he was pleased with you, you snarled inwardly. You helped him with his work. Even he suffers Lestrade in order to do that. You are nothing but a convenient secretary he doesn’t need to pay.

You couldn’t bear the thought of making things difficult for him, however, so you continued to keep the case information neatly organized and accessible. While everything in you had changed, the only outward sign of it was a sudden coolness toward him. You no longer smiled easily when he arrived, and you spent most of your time avoiding his gaze, busying yourself with tasks at your desk.

If he noticed, he gave no sign. It was as you had thought. You were of little consequence to him.

A year after being hired, you considered quitting. There was a small detective agency in need of female detectives to uncover unfaithful wives and husbands for divorce proceedings. It would get you away from the stifling atmosphere of Scotland Yard, where the likes of Lowell and his ilk still roamed unchecked. You could do with a change.

You could do with an escape from a certain debonair consultant.

“You can’t leave,” Lestrade declared. “I won’t allow it.”

“Did I sign a contract, sir?”

“No, but why would that—”

“Then I am under no obligation to continue working for you.”

Lestrade sputtered, trying to refute you. “You’re needed here.”

“I know a woman who is as adept as I am at this work.”

“But—”

“I’ve made my decision, detective. Please leave me to it.”

You remained only to show your replacement the way of things and to warn her about Lowell and the others. Only then did you leave and seek a posting in the detective agency.

A day after you had applied and been accepted, you arrived to work in your work clothes, fully expecting to be sent somewhere to survey a cheating spouse. As you walked through the door, you heard exclamations from within.

“Mr. Holmes! What an honor it is to have you grace our establishment.”

You froze in the doorway, heart hammering in your chest. Sherlock’s broad back was turned to you, his face in three-quarter profile. You wanted to flee, to escape the magnetic pull you felt in your presence.

Your new employer saw you past Sherlock’s shoulder. “Ah, here she is.” Waving you over, he watched you walk stiffly down the hallway, your hands clenched into nervous fists by your sides.

Sherlock turned to you, fixing you with those striking blue eyes. You felt trapped beneath them, sucked in their magnetism once more. Swallowing thickly, you nodded. “Mr. Holmes.”

He smiled tentatively at you, revealing the point of a canine.

“Mr. Holmes has requested you for an investigation,” you employer said. “I offered him Miss Hemmings, of course, she being our finest, but he insisted on you.”

The hair on the back of your neck rose. Resisting the urge to scratch, you asked, “Did he?”

“I did. Now, if we could go? We are wasting time.”

Fighting the disappointment rising in you, you followed Sherlock out the door and into a transom. Enclosed in the small space, you couldn’t avoid his scent, a pleasing mix of tobacco smoke and something else. You avoided his gaze, folding and refolding your hands in your lap.

“You left Scotland Yard.”

A statement. You nodded but didn’t offer anything more. “Where are we going?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

You frowned, lifted your head. “I beg your pardon?”

“Did I do something incorrect?” A crease appeared between the man’s eyebrows. “Your demeanor toward me changed in the two months leading up to your resignation.”

Toying with the fingers of your gloves, you felt panic clawing up your throat. He had noticed. What did that mean?

“I can only conclude that something occurred, but I can’t determine what.”

You met his concerned eyes. “I…it doesn’t matter, Mr. Holmes. I can do whatever job you need me to with as much professional courtesy as it requires.”

His lips pulled into a thin frown. “That isn’t what I’m asking.”

“I don’t know what you mean, then.”

“Please, you are smarter than that. Or was my regard for you misplaced?”

You blinked in surprise, unsure you had heard correctly. “It…isn’t my place to tell you where to place your regard.”

He laughed then, a sudden HA that made you jump. “You are making this difficult, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I am not given over to emotionalism, but I won’t deny that your treatment of me in those last months affected me.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“What I mean to say is that I had hoped we were developing a familiarity.” His hand went to his collar, adjusting it. “I had hoped to…call on you.”

Your head snapped up in surprise. “To call on me?”

“I had thought my feeling for you was returned, but if I am mistaken, please inform me now to save us both further embarrassment.”

You could hardly speak around the tightness in your throat. “It is returned.”

The smile on Sherlock’s face made your heart ache. “Good. I’m glad we have remedied that. Now, if we’re both to be detectives, then I suppose we had best collaborate. I need you to spy on Richard Haskell. It seems…”

#Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock Holmes imagine #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill imagine #Henry!Holmes #Henry!Sherlock #Enola Holmes #requests

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atticuswritesstuff · 3 years

Note

Chrollo with a smarty pants/genius darling who acts out or tries to escape just because they’re bored/understimulated?

Author's note: I actually really fucking love this prompt so I am SUPER excited for this one. I too get very bored/understimulated often. Sorry, I got to it late cuz I just got back from a Montana trip!

Yandere!Chrollo x Bored!Reader

Summary: Chrollo's darling becomes bored being locked up all the time, decides to take yet another unsupervised trip out of the mansion.

Warnings: Anal/Assplay, overstimulation, punishment, spanking, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, yandere themes, BDSM themes, degradation

Character Description: afab, she/her use that's it

Word count: 4.5k

Attempt number seven. Seven times you had slipped through his fingers since the beginning of the year alone, each time becoming more and more elaborate.

Chrollo scoffed, storming through the woods, scanner in hand. It was beeping softly, indicating you weren't far.

It wasn't like you made any attempt to escape discreetly, jamming a fork into the neck of one of Chrollo's guards, puncturing his jugular before you made your way through the garden to the edge of the forest. As Chrollo watched a recording of it from the cameras, he was shocked at how nonchalantly you stabbed him before calmly walking off. If you had intended to run far, you weren't moving very fast.

The tracker started beeping a little faster now. He was getting closer.

The early April air was nipping at his cheeks, he couldn't fathom how you were out here in your pajamas, barefoot at that. Chrollo was more worried about you than just finding you. While your previous attempts had been clever, methodical, and downright genius, this time was very different to him. As far as he knew, you'd never killed anyone, and now you had decided to not only kill someone but patiently wait for him to be unfocused before sneaking upon him. You planned this.

Chrollo walked a couple more meters, finding the tracker was leading him to the nearby lake. When he came to the forest's edge, he could see you sitting at the edge of the dock, staring up at the moon.

You heard him approaching as soon as he broke through the treeline, it took him a bit longer to retrieve you than expected, although you attributed that to him thinking you were going to try and run far. A couple miles from the house wasn't necessarily far for a commoner, but this was farther than you'd ever been allowed.

Chrollo's heavy footsteps walked the length of the dock, stopping right behind you. He knew you would come quietly, after the first few times, you'd stopped escaping to try and get away, instead, you found the chase to be much more thrilling.

"Time to go, darling," He hummed nonchalantly.

"Five more minutes," You replied, swishing your feet through the near-freezing water, "The moon is so pretty tonight, wouldn't you agree?"

Chrollo gazed down at you, you were surprisingly clean considering you'd just stabbed someone. Not a single drop of blood on you anywhere. The only thing shielding you from the cold being a thin cami and a shamefully short pair of shorts.

Chrollo always admired your body, but the pajamas were a nice touch. They were a recent purchase, baby blue fabric with white lace trim, god how he wanted to tear the set off you.

"I didn't think you'd have it in you to take a man's life, darling," Chrollo stated.

"I didn't either," You chuckled, "But it's done now."

"Why not just sneak away?" He replied, sitting on the dock next to you, "He was unfocused, you could've done it easily if this was where you intended to go all along."

"You're right, I didn't have to kill him," You sighed, bringing one of your feet onto the dock, "I just wanted to see if I could. You left an anatomy book on your desk, I found the major arteries of the body to be very interesting."

"Now that I think about it," You continued, "Maybe I should've run farther, seeing you so desperately trying to find me is rather amusing."

“You enjoy being chased like a rabbit?” Chrollo mused.

“Believe it or not the thrill is more exciting than anything you’ve ever gifted to me,” You scoffed, “At least running gave me something to do that required thought. Something you seem to forget to provide.”

Poking at Chrollo’s care tactics wasn’t smart, but you didn’t know how else to get through to him that your current environment was extremely understimulating, and that you needed more. You could tell he was growing upset, but he wouldn’t dare show it outside of the house.

You pulled your knee to your chest, resting your cheek against it, "Do I have to go back?"

"Of course you do, darling," Chrollo replied, a warm hand rubbing up and down your back, "Why wouldn't you?"

You scoffed, "Probably because being a prisoner of marble and glass is dreadfully boring."

Chrollo's hand stopped, "You think the life I've worked so hard to build is boring?"

"Yup," You replied flatly, "Honestly I thought you kidnapping me would be a lot more fun, but it's even more boring than my old life."

Chrollo was becoming angrier with each word that came out of your mouth.

"Don't get me wrong, I know how hard you try, but my god I don't know how you stand it. You're sweet and all, but you're gonna bore me to death sooner or later, escaping actually gives me something to do," You hummed, pulling your other foot out of the water, "Anyways, we can go back now, this chase was more boring than I expected."

You rose from your place, turning to walk back to your cage. It took Chrollo a minute to get up and follow you, partially from the shock of your completely arrogant and nonchalant demeanor. The person you had become over the past two years almost reminded him of a certain magician he once knew.

Chrollo eyed you as your hips swayed, every muscle in your leg flexing and relaxing as you walked. It was something he adored about you, before he took you, you were one of your tribe's best, strongest dancers. The way you swayed and glided while you did the most basic of tasks was alluring to him. Now, he just watched you sit around and observe everything.

The view from walking behind you wasn't necessarily bad, though. Your pajama shorts gave him a nice view of your ass as you walked.

Sauntering through the woods, you could no longer hide how cold you were, the incessant shivering and blue tint to your skin proved that fact. Your feet even more so from being in the water.

You knew Chrollo was upset with what you'd said, you could tell immediately, but keeping the truth from him wasn't an option anymore. You had started to care for him some time ago. You really appreciated him, but god if he didn't allow you to do something you were going to lose your mind.

When you could just barely make out the edges of the garden approaching, you stopped mid-path, "Chrollo?"

He caught up to you in an instant, "Yes, darling?"

"I don't want to go back if I have to live like this," You felt tears well up in your eyes, "Please."

His hands found your hips, "Live like what? Talk to me darling, how can I make it better?"

"I don't want to just sit around and wait for you to come back. I'm tired of you being at my beck and call. O-Or just fucking sitting around waiting for you to come back," You felt a solemn tear roll down your cheek, "It's so fucking boring. Please just take me with you or give me something I can do for you or-"

"Darling," He cut you off with a firm hand over your mouth, the other still settled on your hip. He shushed you softly, lessening the pressure on your mouth, "Don't panic, I'm listening. I promise I'm hearing you, just speak slowly alright?"

You nodded, he took his hand off your mouth slowly, "Keep going, what can I do to help you?"

You thought about it, more tears spilling down your cheeks, "Take me with you. Don't leave me by myself anymore. I just want to be useful."

Scooping you up bridal style as he headed towards the garden, "I understand. Even in your old life, you were always helping others, weren't you?"

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your head into him. Closing your eyes, you breathed in his scent, trying to commit it to memory.

Chrollo's feet hit the marble floors of the hallway that led into the house, you could feel his warmth returning as he carried you inside.

"While I understand your frustrations, you did try to escape my love," He started, bringing you into your shared bedroom, "And that requires a punishment."

You winced, shaking your head against him, "Please, not again! I'm really sorry Sir I can do better-"

"No," He shushed you, setting you on the foot of the bed, "I have the solution to your problem, but only if you take your punishment, alright?"

You nodded slightly, your tear-stained cheeks slightly puffy and red from the cold.

"Alright," He purred, his hands rubbing up and down your shoulders, "I'll try to make this at least somewhat pleasant for you, ok?"

You nodded once again, finding comfort in the fact that he was at least going to please you.

"Lay back for me," He stated, pushing you back by your shoulders, "I'll be right back."

You stared up at the ceiling in anticipation, the last punishment was hard enough, but you couldn't pass up the opportunity to finally get out of the house. Chrollo had returned from the closet, setting something on the bench at the foot of the bed. He took off his shirt before crawling over you.

"You know what your punishment is, right?" He asked, a face cupping your cheek.

You nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl," He whispered, leaning down to give you the softest of kisses, just barely ghosting over your lips as he pulled the knife out of his back pocket.

Pressing it to your throat, you froze, knowing it had already begun.

"Just focus on me, darling," Chrollo whispered against your lips, "I won't cut you."

He kissed you once more, harder this time as he slowly dragged the knife down your neck. It was a 50/50 chance he would intentionally cut you, even if he said he wouldn't. It was the only thing he'd ever lied to you about, knowing that made your heart race.

His tongue invaded your mouth as he slid the knife down your chest, coming back up to cut your bralette off in between your breasts. You didn't even register the pain from him grazing you with the knife until it started throbbing.

You looked down, seeing a thin line of blood-forming directly in between your breasts.

"Whoops," he chuckled, gazing down at the same mark you were. He sat up, straddling your hips and now pinning you to the bed by your throat. Your bare chest tempted him to carve his name into your breasts, then you'd really know who you belonged to. Chrollo briefly cut the straps of your bralette, allowing the flimsy fabric to fall away, revealing your breasts to him.

Setting the knife aside, Chrollo dragged his nails down your chest, briefly squeezing your waist before leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses all over your neck. He trailed downwards, backing off the bed as he kissed your waist, your breasts, swirling his tongue around each of your nipples lightly before backing off entirely.

"Turn over," Chrollo demanded.

"No." You said timidly, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"I'm sorry?" Chrollo replied smugly, "Wanna repeat that, darling?"

"I said n-no," You said, now even quieter than before.

"No? You don't want to be punished?" He asked, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs teasingly.

You shook your head to confirm that you indeed did not want to be punished in the way he was thinking.

"Even after killing my guard and escaping? You sure you don't want to be punished?" He asked again, his condescending tone making you whimper as you shook your head again.

Chrollo sighed, "Very well."

What? He's serious?

Untying the bandana from his forehead, he was quick to grab your hands and tie them together, placing them above your head, "I'll please you since I know that's what you really want."

Your heart jumped in your chest, somehow excited at the fact that you had gotten out of it.

Chrollo wasted no time cutting your shorts off, leaving you completely naked and exposed to him. He brought your legs up to the edge of the bed, bending them close to your chest, "Stay like this for a moment, ok?"

You gave him brief 'mhm' before he left, crossing the room to his chest of drawers. You heard him open it, the soft sound of things being moved around before he quickly came back. Craning your neck up to see what had been retrieved, you were quickly thwarted by Chrollo who pushed your head back down.

"Patience," He sighed, "Be a good girl now, hm?"

You grumbled, but let him hold you down. You knew this routine all too well, reminiscing about the fond memories of your legs pulling against the rope he was now starting to tie around your ankles. He took the time to tie up each leg, making sure they would not be able to come out of the bent position he'd placed them in.

"So pretty," Chrollo cooed, rubbing his hands up and down your waist, "Alright darling, eyes closed."

You shut your eyes as he brought a blindfold to your eyes, the soft silk being tied around the back of your head.

"There, now that you can't fight me," He started, using brute force to flip you over so you were bent over the edge of the bed, knees on the bench, "We can begin your punishment."

"That's not fair Si-"

A sharp smack was delivered to your ass, "Hush."

You went quiet, whimpering into the plush comforter.

"You"

Smack.

"Broke"

Smack.

"My"

Smack.

"Rules"

Each word was punctuated by a harsh spanking to one of your ass cheeks. You were only four in and it already stung.

"I'm sorry!" You cried, trying to wriggle away from Chrollo, "Please Sir!"

"Mm, please what darling? Please punish you?" He hummed, rubbing your bottom with smooth circles.

"Nuh!" You whined, your voice becoming whinier under the threat of fully submitting.

"I told you I would please you, but only if you took your punishment like a good girl," Chrollo hummed, leaving a kiss on each cheek, "Do you really expect me to please you when you're not going to comply darling?"

You whined, wiggling a bit more.

"What do good girls say, darling?" Chrollo asked, softly rubbing your arched back.

"P-please," You huffed.

"Please what, love?" He replied, quietly undoing the bottle of lube he had brought to the bed.

"Please punish me," You whispered, "Sir."

"That's my good girl," He hummed.

Chrollo squirted a bit of lube onto his first two fingers, letting it warm a bit before bringing them to your ass. Mewling as Chrollo started rubbing your puckered hole, he wasted no time plunging a digit into your ass.

"Fuck!" You cried out, feeling him slipping in and out up to his first knuckle. You shook against the rope.

"Aww, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were starting to enjoy this." He teased, pushing his finger up to his second knuckle, "You're taking me so well, I can only imagine how well you're going to do later."

You gave him a long, drawn-out moan in response. He wanted you to beg, either for more or for him to stop, either way, he wanted you to be a mess.

The discomfort started to fade as he pushed his two fingers fully into you. Now, you could feel your arousal dripping as he steadily finger-fucked your ass, trying to stretch you out best he could with just two fingers.

"Already taking my fingers so well," Chrollo cooed, picking up the pace, "I think you're ready to be punished, don't you?"

You shook your head, knowing what would come next.

"Oh come now, don't be like that darling." He replied, slowly pulling his fingers from your tight hole.

You whined at the loss of contact, while it wasn't quite the pleasure you wanted, it was starting to feel good. You waited patiently as Chrollo left the bed, finding the necessary tools needed in his bedside drawer before coming back to the bench.

In one hand, he held a set of purple anal beads that gradually got bigger, in the other, a vibrating wand he fully intended on using on you. While the vibrator wasn't ever used during a punishment, Chrollo saw it to be a mercy for your honesty, therefore, he would keep his word, making his punishment at least somewhat pleasurable for you.

"Tonight's going to be a bit different, love," Chrollo started, setting the vibrator on the bench, he began covering the anal beads in a generous amount of lube, "I need you to trust me, ok?"

You didn't know what he meant by different, you assumed more painful, but knew that there would be no pleasure without pain, "I trust you."

"Good," He hummed, rubbing the first ball against your lubed hole, "You ready?"

Your faint 'mhm' had Chrollo pushing the first ball in, earning a whimper from you. It wasn't much bigger than Chrollo's finger, but you could still feel it. Mere seconds later, he was pushing the second ball in, the equivalent to a little more than two of his fingers.

You were quietly whimpering and mewling into the comforter, hoping he wouldn't hear how much you were enjoying the slow stretch.

"I need your hands," Chrollo announced, pulling you firmly upward by your shoulders, "Put them here."

He shoved your arms down toward your pussy before pushing you back down on your chest. Before, your hands had been resting on the comforter above your head. Now, they were firmly squished between your thighs. You felt Chrollo press something round into your hands before tying your wrists up. Mid-tie, he readjusted the foreign object to rest against your clit.

The vibrator.

You began to squirm a little bit, knowing that this is what he meant by tonight being a little different. You waited patiently as he tied the ropes tight, making sure you wouldn't be able to move it away, then he turned it on.

"Ah...oh fuck," You moaned, the vibrator already working to make you come undone, "Sir.."

Your moans were becoming more sultry, needier, you began panting as your legs worked up to a steady shake, he knew he would break you tonight at this rate.

"See? I told you I would please you," Chrollo hummed, pushing the next ball in, you cried out even louder, "You have permission to cum whenever you'd like."

Knowing this was going to make it a lot harder, he wanted you to submit, to break, "D..Da-Ah!"

You were stuttering as the next ball was pushed in, your asshole stretching around it.

"What was that? I don't think I heard you, princess," Chrollo teased.

"Daddy!" You wailed, giving into the submission he so desperately wanted. Your pussy began fluttering around nothing as the vibrator sent deep shock waves through your pussy, "Please!"

"Please what, princess?" He smiled, palming your ass cheeks.

"Please punish me!" You moaned, needing more stimulation, "I'm sorry I tried to escape! I've been a bad girl!"

The sight of you writhing under him was pathetic, you were truly becoming a mess and he hadn't even really touched you. Seeing how hard you were trembling, Chrollo took pity on you. Watching your pretty pussy clench and release, needing some form of stimulation, he decided to at least grant you this mercy.

Plunging two fingers into your dripping hole, he crooked his fingers, quickly finding your g-spot, "Is this what my darling needs?"

"Yes! Oh, fu-fuck please daddy!" You moaned, fucking yourself on his fingers, "Gonna cum!"

"You have permission princess, it's ok," Chrollo reaffirmed, working his fingers inside you.

It only took seconds, the knot that had been building inside you finally burst, causing you to clench around his fingers. The vibrator held firm against your clit after, the pleasure becoming painful. You started to cry through the blindfold.

Chrollo licked the mess off his fingers before slowly starting to pull the anal beads out one by one. You whined and whimpered as he did so, the action only causing you to clench to avoid feeling empty. It did nothing, Chrollo continued to pull the remaining few beads out, your asshole gaping slightly

"Mm, you're doing so well baby," Chrollo sighed, pulling his own pants down. Pumping his cock a few times before rubbing the crown of it up and down your slick.

"Daddy! D-Don't do that!" You whined, trying to pull away from his ministrations.

"What? This?" Chrollo asked innocently, repeating the action.

You lost it, cumming on the spot as the tip ghosted over your pussy, your shame covered your face in a heavy blush. It barely took anything for you to cum with the stupid vibrator continuing to buzz against your clit at the highest setting.

"S-Sorry daddy.." you slurred, still trembling as you felt your mind go blank.

"Aww, is my baby that much of a cock drunk little slut?" Chrollo teased, pressing the tip of his painfully erect cock into your ass, "I know you are, my pretty little darling wanted to be punished this whole time, huh?"

You heard him, but could barely form enough of a sentence to answer.

Chrollo pushed into you slowly, relishing in the tightness of your ass, your gummy walls fluttering around him as you were overstimulated. The feeling of being full had your tongue lolling out of your mouth.

Once fully seated inside you, Chrollo slowly dragged his nails along your back before palming your ass. Pulling your ass cheeks apart with his thumbs, he gave a few long, slow thrusts, watching the way you clenched around his cock.

"Fuck," Chrollo moaned, "I almost don't even want to punish you with the way this tight little ass wraps around my cock."

You could only moan in response, trembling as he continued his tortuously slow pace.

"How many spankings do you think you'll receive from tonight's actions, princess?" Chrollo halted, only halfway inside as his hands trailed upwards along your outer thighs, "I think forty is a good number? What say you, love?"

"Nuh-uh!" You cried, wiggling against his touch as one of his hands left your skin, "Thirty!"

Chrollo chuckled at your offer, "I was originally going to settle for twenty-five, but thirty works for me, darling."

With a crushing force, Chrollo's hand came down.

Smack!

"Count, or I'll start over," Chrollo demanded.

"O-One," You whispered.

His other hand rose while the other soothed the spot he had just spanked.

Smack!

"Two!"

Smack!

"Three," Chrollo's hands were relentless, switching cheeks each time he smacked you in order to give your poor skin a break. He was merciful enough to rub the spot he had spanked before doing it again.

It took minutes to work your way up to the end, you came twice throughout the process as the vibrator held firm against your clit.

Smack!

"Twenty-eight!"

Smack!

"Twenty-nine!"

Smack!

"Th-Thirty!" You were sobbing, shaking uncontrollably under the weight of Chrollo's punishment.

"There we go, all done," Chrollo cooed, softly rubbing your cherry-red ass as he set another slow pace, "You did so well for me, darling."

A warmth grew in your chest, you really did enjoy being praised by Chrollo, even if it was after a punishment with his dick in your ass. He enjoyed it too, loving the way you clenched around his cock each time he spanked you, it took a lot of focus to not cum mid punishment.

You were writhing the pressure in your core already starting to build again, your trembling never stopped, even throughout your punishment. Chrollo kept up his word to please you, but god at what cost?

"I want you to cum for me again, angel," Chrollo hummed, his hands finding your waist as he began picking up the pace, "I want to absolutely ruin you."

"No no no! Daddy, I can't!" You sobbed, knowing you would be doing more than just cumming if this kept up.

"Oh? Is my princess trying to hide the pretty mess I know she can make?" Chrollo asked, knowing what you were implying.

Grabbing the knife, he cut the ropes from your legs. He rolled your limp form over onto your back, yanking the blindfold off so he could watch as you helped overstimulate yourself. With one arm by your head to support himself, he guided his cock back into your ass, resuming the brutal pace he set.

You held Chrollo's gaze as he went absolutely feral, drilling your ass while holding one of your legs up over his shoulder. You could barely conceal your tears at this point, broken moans showing him just how bad you needed a break, but he was intent on making you squirt before he stopped.

"I know you need this," Chrollo purred, pressing his forehead to yours, "Just give in to my love, your body wants this."

You started to shake harder, legs trembling even more aggressively, he was pushing you to the edge.

"Fuck! Da...Daddy," You groaned, knowing you were only seconds away, "Kiss me, p-please."

Pulling you into his lips as you came, your screams and cries muffled against Chrollo's lips as you drenched his cock and thighs with your cum. You barely registered the feeling of his cock throbbing as he filled your ass with cum. It took several seconds for your orgasm to stop before you were finally able to collapse back onto the bed.

Chrollo was quick to shut the vibrator off as he pulled out, knowing your body had enough. He admired the way his cum began slowly trickling out of your ass while he untied your hands.

"You did so well, darling," Chrollo praised, leaving soft kisses on the inside of your calf, "So so good."

His kisses trailed upwards, his lips softly tickling your thighs as he caressed them. He continued upward with his continued praise and love, making sure each part of you had received some form of physical attention before kissing you passionately.

You were still panting, your heart thrumming in your ears as he brushed your hair away from your face. At least he held true to his word.

With your hands now free, you pulled him in for another kiss, wanting to stay enveloped in his warmth forever.

"So, my little brat," He started, interlacing his fingers with yours, "Was this enough of a cure for your boredom?"

You giggled, giving him a weak smile, "It was, but as I recall, you mentioned what sounded like a more long-term solution to this problem."

"Ah, that," Chrollo sighed, rolling over next to you. You turned on your side the best you could as he gazed up at the ceiling, "I was thinking you could officially become a spider."

Your breath hitched in your throat, "You mean like part of the phantom-troupe?"

"Yes," He replied curtly, "You'd be with me all day every day, same rules apply, but it would give you a chance to use that intelligence of yours."

You grinned, thinking it over, "Sure, why not?"

#chrollo lucilfer x y/n #hunter x hunter x reader #hunterxhunter #hxh #hxh 2011 #hxh imagine #hxh x reader #hxh x you #hxh x y/n #chrollo #chrollo x you #chrollo lucilfer x reader #chrollo x y/n #chrollo smut #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #phantom troupe #phantom troupe x reader #chrollo lucilfer smut

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Initiative - aka NMJ and JYL get engaged - ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Jiang Yanli’s first engagement had been announced when she was three and a half years old – there had been a big party, festooned in color, exquisitely and meticulously planned out in advance, and she’d been obliged to stand on stage next to a baby in a cradle that had done nothing but cry and spit as all the adults around her congregated and congratulated each other on the excellent match.

She hadn’t enjoyed that at all.

Her second wedding announcement was simultaneously more casual and more noteworthy, and she enjoyed it tremendously.

Madame Jin had sent several invitations to Jiang Yanli to come visit Lanling in advance of the hunt planned for Phoenix Mountain, speaking of how beautiful it was and how much she looked forward to seeing her good friend’s daughter – talking about she’d always regretted how Jiang Yanli had been obligated by circumstances to take shelter at the Unclean Realm rather than in Lanling City, although she’d been pleased to hear from her son that she was doing well – all the right sort of words. The words might have been more welcome if Jiang Yanli hadn’t known that Madame Jin was still intent on securing the marriage she had arranged.

If she hadn’t been engaged, she would have accepted the invitation, hoping to form an alliance for her sect through a close relationship with Madame Jin even if she didn’t have one with Jin Zixuan (no matter what Madame Jin hoped), but as she was, in fact, engaged to another – even if it hadn’t been formally announced – it would be inappropriate to go. So she instead played ignorant and responded graciously, protesting that she couldn’t possibly impose, that the rebuilding at the Lotus Pier needed her, but that she would of course be happy to attend the hunt alongside the rest of her sect.

She arrived at her brother’s side, smiling all the while.

Her second engagement was announced like this: Sect Leader Jin, using his newly legitimized son as his mouthpiece, had brought forward some ghastly ‘entertainment’ that involved shooting at helpless prisoners, tied up in chains. Jin Zixuan had complied, but Wei Wuxian had marched out and disrupted everything by showing off to a ridiculous extent – Nie Mingjue, who had been watching with a black face full of rage but unable to speak due to propriety, had started applauding very loudly and very enthusiastically – and Sect Leader Jin had ordered the prisoners taken away.

“Well, then,” he said, clapping as if he had impressed himself: as if they hadn’t just been subjected to a powerplay under the guise of hospitality, as if everyone would be over-awed by his might now that they had seen him abuse the helpless while they were all forced by the rules of etiquette to say nothing or else risk carrying the blame for trying to start another war. “Absent anything else, we should proceed to the hunt itself, where await you only the finest of prey and the sharpest competition among your peers.”

For the further display of the power of the Jin sect, he meant.

“Actually,” Nie Mingjue said, interjecting in a moment in which Sect Leader Jin had paused to take a breath so that it was technically not an interruption, “there is one thing. A request, in fact.”

Sect Leader Jin’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he maintained his false smile. “Of course, Sect Leader Nie. What can I do for you?”

“I’m getting married,” Nie Mingjue said. “The bride is Young Mistress Jiang, of Yunmeng Jiang, and I would like –” He raised his voice to overcome the abrupt explosion of talk that had erupted. “– I would like to have her accompany my sect in today’s hunt. I hope that doesn’t interfere with your plans for a competition between the sects?”

There were those who said that Jiang Yanli’s chosen husband was bad at politics, and they might even be right. But it didn’t really matter in the end if he’d thought of the idea on a whim or if it’d been a prearranged plan by Nie Huaisang, who was cleverer than he liked to let on to people, Jiang Yanli’s future husband had still wiped away in a single sentence all memory of the farce they’d all just endured and of the hunt that was yet to come, ensuring that the only thing anyone would remember about today was the shocking news of the engagement of the leader of one Great Sect to the sister of another.

(And if everyone remembered that at the last celebration hosted by Sect Leader Jin, he had proposed to resurrect the marriage between Jiang Yanli and his own son, instead, forcing her to publicly demur on vague terms…well, that just made it all the more satisfying.)

Now it was Sect Leader Jin’s turn to scowl and glare, and Madame Jin’s expression looked no less thunderous, but in the end Jiang Yanli got to go with the Nie sect on the hunt.

“You know I’ll only slow you down,” she said to Nie Mingjue, who snorted.

“No more than Huaisang will,” he said, and if his face was stern and his voice gruff then she still thought she detected fondness and humor beneath it. “Besides, it’ll be a good opportunity to measure you.”

It turned out that he meant that more literally than she might have thought.

Jiang Yanli was promptly whisked away to the back of the Nie retinue by a small cadre of Nie disciples, men and women both. She was presented with a number of training sabers shaped out of wood and made to hold them in a variety of positions as they murmured things about stability and reach and balance as if they really, truly thought that she would actually use the saber they were preparing for her.

“This one,” Nie Jiahui, a steely older woman with silver in her hair and fierce eyes, eventually announced, and the practice saber Jiang Yanli had been waving around was taken away. She was then presented with one that was twice as heavy, for “practice”.

“Do you always practice with something heavier than the actual thing?” she asked, and Nie Jiahui nodded.

“Strengthens the shoulders,” she said, curt but not standoffish. “Have some candy.”

Jiang Yanli blinked, but smiled and accepted the offer. It was licorice, which she liked.

“Do you often carry candy with you on night-hunts?” she asked, listening to the sound of fighting from up ahead. Every so often, a disciple or two would trot by carrying the corpses of larger and larger creatures, slain in the fighting; it seemed that the Nie sect was not, in fact, being slowed down in the slightest by her presence.

Of course, she also wasn’t being tended to as if she were their chosen lady, either, as she might have otherwise expected – all pomp and flowery language, Nie Mingjue by her side at all times to show her around as if they were on a pleasure stroll – but in all honesty that would have been a little bewildering. It was very much not the Nie sect’s character, all practical and straightforward, and she found that she preferred it that way.

“It’s important to have something to replenish energy,” Nie Huaisang said, having dropped back to join them from the front. He looked tired and grumpy, but his saber appeared to have been put to some work; he immediately climbed up into the carriage that people were taking turns riding and started cleaning it. “And licorice candy clears the lungs.”

“Clears the lungs?” Jiang Yanli asked.

“It’s good for more than that,” Nie Jiahui said. “But that’s one of the uses, yes. Do you ever feel like your chest is too tight, especially when you move too much? Leading to coughing, shortness of breath, your lips turning blue?”

Jiang Yanli blinked. “Yes,” she said. “But that’s just because I was born with a weak body.”

Nie Jiahui scoffed and Nie Huaisang laughed. “Good luck with that,” he said cheerfully. “I was born with muscles that didn’t keep their tone: too flexible, incapable of gathering strength, requiring more energy to do less, making me twice as tired twice as fast – even sitting up straight can be a struggle in some extreme cases, though luckily not mine. And do you think that helped me one bit in getting out of saber training? It did not.”

“Early childhood intervention is best,” Nie Jiahui said. “But the next best is starting today. I’ll show you some low-impact exercises that you can start working on to strengthen your shoulders and stomach, as well as some balance movements to center yourself and improve your posture – that way, by the time your actual saber is ready, you’ll be able to take it through one of the basic routines.”

“I’m happy to learn whatever you have to teach,” Jiang Yanli said, ignoring Nie Huaisang’s dramatic cry of ‘And here I thought you’d be on my side!’ “I only regret troubling you.”

“Not at all,” Nie Jiahui said. “It’ll be good to have someone watching the Sect Leader’s back on night-hunts.”

Jiang Yanli felt a surge of terror and excitement in her belly. “He would trust me with that? You would trust me with that?”

“I did tell you that you’d need to keep up with him,” Nie Huaisang said mildly, and it was true, he had, only she’d assumed it was a bit more metaphorical. “You don’t have to fight or even walk too much, if it doesn’t suit you – my grandmother was lame in both her legs from a childhood illness, she rode everywhere, scariest woman I’ve ever met by far – but you do have to be there. Someone needs to be able to tell my brother to stop. Someone he’ll listen to.”

And wasn’t that something of a thrill to think of?

Jiang Yanli wasn’t someone anyone listened to – not her parents, not her brother, not her sect disciples. She’d always been the one who comforted them afterwards, who supported them; she made them food and tried to convince them to be kinder to each other, and sometimes they even tried for a while before getting into another tiff. They would kill for her if she so much as hinted at it, tear down the sky for her, but it was more in the nature of indulging her rather than actually allowing them to guide her.

Yet here was Chifeng-zun, a war hero and a sect leader, one of the most powerful men in the world, a man admired by men and sought after (even if only in their hearts) by women, and his family was telling her that he would listen to her.

“If you say so,” she demurred, but they insisted, and by the time the hunt was over Jiang Yanli was surprised to realize that she hadn’t needed to resort to sitting on the carriage more than twice the entire time.

“We’ll send Auntie Jiahui to the Lotus Pier after today’s hunt is done,” Nie Huaisang chattered cheerfully in her ear as they headed back towards Jinlin Tower. “She’ll work you through your paces, believe you me, and all the supplemental things, too – making sure you eat the right thing, take medicinal baths to improve your meridians, apply massages to loosen your joints…those parts are nice, actually. Take care of your body as you would your saber, take care of your saber as you would your wife! That’s how the saying goes. Trust me, you’ll be regretting the whole thing soon enough.”

Jiang Yanli didn’t think she would. “You seem very confident that A-Cheng will allow you to do as you please, even in the Lotus Pier.”

“I’ll tell him it concerns secret Nie sect marriage rituals,” Nie Jiahui interjected. “When two women are involved, men tend to run away when the words ‘marriage’ and ‘secret’ are combined.”

Sadly, she was probably right.

“Show me those exercises again,” she requested, and Nie Jiahui climbed up on to the carriage to show her the ones she could do even while sitting down.

Jiang Yanli might never have had the opportunity to strengthen herself before, and she was moderately certain that she wouldn’t have too much success now, as the various tricks Nie Jiahui had taught her were largely body refinement, barely reliant on qi, and her cultivation was still as low as ever.

But she was good at devoting herself to learning something when she wanted to, and as soon the hunt at Phoenix Mountain was over and they had shifted over to the various feasts and meetings that Lanling Jin had planned for the rest of the week, she began her efforts at self-improvement in earnest.

The weak body her mother had always despaired of might always be weak – Nie Jiahui had been quite blunt on that subject, making it clear that nothing she was suggesting was some sort of miracle pill, and furthermore that there was nothing wrong with being weak as long as she made an effort (Nie Huaisang had been the recipient of several pointed looks there) – but Jiang Yanli was determined to at least demonstrate that she was trying.

A gesture of good faith, perhaps. Some small show of initiative.

Nie Huaisang had said that Nie Mingjue appreciated her initiative.

“A-Xian,” she called one morning, only a few days later. “A-Xian, are you going out for a walk? Let me come with you.”

“You’ve gone on a lot of walks recently,” Wei Wuxian laughed, but allowed her to take his arm as they walked into the crowd. “Do you like Lanling City so much?”

“It’s the exercise I’m after,” she said, smiling at him. “The Nie sect is a martial sect, remember? I’ll be going on more night-hunts in the future, if all goes well, and I’ll need to keep up.”

“Oh, but surely they’ll bring a carriage..? I don’t know if you really need to go on night-hunts –”

“I want to! It’ll be nice. Don’t worry about me so much, A-Xian –”

Wei Wuxian was shaking his head, smiling, and he wasn’t looking where he was going; perhaps that was why he bumped into the young woman.

But then she looked up at him, and he looked down at her, and he froze.

“Wen Qing?”

#mdzs #jiang yanli #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #initiative #the untamed #includes my medical HCs for JYL and NHS #but no actual medical incidents

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achillieus · 3 years

Text

we’re fools (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.

(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)

pairing: college au!bucky x reader

warnings: alcohol, a lot of sexual references, but also a lot of fluff, bucky and reader are in love, also bucky gets cheesy and he hates it

(other parts) (masterlist)

part 3/3:

Bucky thinks he fell in love on a Tuesday.

“This year, I’m gonna ask Peggy Carter out.” It’s the first day of their third semester and Steve is putting his black baseball cap in his perfect hair, checking his reflection on his phone screen. One of the freshman girls winks at him and he shyly half smiles.

Usually, Bucky would tease him about it, but now he’s attention is wholly on something else. Someone else.

A girl at the other end of the hall, holding a paper juice box, wearing a gaudy denim dress that stops right before her knees.

He’s certain he hasn’t seen her before and judging by the adrift look on her face he deduces she’s in her first year. Is she pretty? He can’t decide. She’s definitely something. And if he stares at her a bit longer than socially acceptable, well let’s say, it’s completely unintended.

“Buck, did you hear what I said?” Steve says at one point and Bucky isn’t sure for how long he has been lost in her figure.

“Yeah sure.” The girl starts walking at their direction -it must be your lucky day, Bucky-, clutching the golden heart jewel around her neck. She’s looking at the doors, she’s looking at the big campus map they have on the wall. She’s looking everywhere but at him and it’s almost offensive considering the amount of time he spent looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” And then she’s there standing a few steps behind Steve. Almost hidden behind his colossal demeanor. “I can’t seem to find the Admission Office.”

A small nervous laugh escapes her lips and Bucky watches the little wrinkles around her eyes, the subtle blush on her cheeks. She doesn’t look pretty. No. She looks consuming.

“Admission office is on the left, doll”. He replies a little too fast. He had to beat Steve. He had to talk to her.

She smiles at him and somehow, along that smile, Bucky thinks he fell in love. With you.

(bucky barnes has been in love with you for 563 days)

“Did you just kiss me?”

His voice is barely a whisper and his vision is blurry and it’s weird because suddenly he realizes how scared he’s of you. Of the power you have on him. An alarming craving. Every addiction he can’t control combined. Bucky isn’t afraid of many things, not exactly. But he’s afraid that you’ll take his heart and break it, if you want to. And he’s more afraid that he’ll just allow you to. He wonders, for the split of a second, if you have any idea how everything changed when your lips met his. How something inside of him shifted.

“I’m sorry,” You finally answer and he needs a moment to compose himself, “I’m so sorry I just thought-”

“Shut up, I’d died if you hadn’t kissed me.”

“What?”

It’s innocent and terribly oblivious, the way you ask him that and he half smiles, almost touches your palm before his mind stops racing. Ignores the alcohol in his body. Reminds him that he’s Bucky Barnes, that he’s clever and brilliant and a little bit narcissistic and that he doesn’t do love. Not anymore. And that people adore him for that. And that he needs to uphold it. At least try to.

“I’m not repeating that soppy thing I said,” He drawls and smirks, his teeth gleaming in the fluorescent light of the hall. He has his mask back on. He’s playing his part again. And then he takes a quick step, opens his door and turns around, swift motions and hard grips and suddenly your spine hits the walls of his room. “But you can repeat that sexy thing you did with your tongue.”

Bucky isn’t stupid. He knows he’d perish and wither in a blast if you asked him to, yet he would never admit that. At least not so fast. And specially not to you. He has built his persona so carefully, wore it like an armor, it has become a second skin.

His chapped lips scratch soft against your neck, his hands play with the end of your dress and you observe the way his orbs are colored darker now. He knows what he’s doing. It’s a show he’s practiced. His touch is sharp, like a razor, cuts through your epidermis, comes close to your veins and the muscles of your heart.

And you’re ready to close your eyes, savor every minute of it, offer yourself like an altar and let him wipe the rationality out of you, but the moment his fingers find the wet silk between your legs there’s pain and your throat dries out instantly.

“Bucky, wait.”

“What’s wrong doll?”

“Can we stop?”

There’s the cruel split of a moment where the anxiety inside of you flares up dangerously and you fill like on the edge of a cliff, like falling and it’s horrible. And then you see his body relax, breathing a sigh of relief and laughing.

“Thank God you asked.”

“Barnes,” you hit him with your elbow, “You’re doing wonders for my self esteem right now!”

“You’re an idiot,” he replies with a grimace, “It’s just that I’m drunk and I prefer if I’m not drunk when we have sex. I want to remember the whole thing.”

A strange sensation tingles somewhere between your ribs and your stomach, something so pure and new, and it raises goosebumps all over you. And you smile at him.

And somehow along that smile, Bucky’s mask starts to fall.

Bucky Barnes, you learnt within your first month in college, is a year older than you, a proud boy that always asks the right questions and always gives the right answers, with charms and wits of a living god.

Bucky Barnes, you learnt the night you kissed him in the narrow aisle, may have a sharp tongue but he also has the sweetest lips, soft and liqueur like.

Bucky Barnes, you learn some days later, doesn’t want many people to know about you two, and sits three tables away during lunch.

“Are you embarrassed of me?”

Your mind is racing with dozens of hurtful possibilities, some more or less, and Bucky looks at you, eyes widen and surprised.

“Why would I be embarrassed of you?”

“I don’t know,” you take the tea cup in your hands, drink and stay silent for a while, observe the way he’s fidgeting with his fingers, “Why else would you avoid me whenever there’s someone else but Sam around?”

It takes some time before he walks closer, sits next to you by his bedframe and touches your hand, your skin freezing under his.

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

Your heart almost stops, because Bucky is never scared, and his answer feels strangely heavy and bitter from his lips when he says, “I just don’t want anyone to ruin this.”

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even smirk like he usually does, just stares at you with narrow eyes and a quick breath.

“Bucky, I hate it to break it to you,” you say, a glint of amusement in your voice, “But I don’t think others care that much about us.”

You cup his face in your hands, guide him backwards, his back hitting the pillow and it’s the first time he has no choice but to comply.

“And even if they do,” you breath in, wet your lips and tease the corner of his mouth with your finger, “It’s not our problem.”

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, shifts even closer to you, his heart not missing a beat. And when you kiss him, he smiles. And somehow along that smile, Bucky becomes more of himself.

It goes like this;

People read it in his eyes. How his gaze never leaves you even while you’re writing a test and he needs to concentrate, how he looks mesmerized when you braid your hair while scanning the textbook in front of you. How he could find you even in the middle of the biggest crowd.

People see it in your reactions. How your fingers always wrap around his wrist, almost instinctively, before he leaves, and you kiss him one time on the lips, and then one more on the cheek. How your voice changes as soon as he enters the room. How you’d know he’s here even without looking.

You really have to try to be oblivious to love.

(text messages between classes)

(10:26 AM) bucky: hey does taylor swift have to be playing in the background when we have sex

(10:27 AM) you: it’s not even noon bucky what the hell

(10:27 AM) bucky: i went through your spotify and APPARENTLY you have a “🍆🍆🍆” playlist

(10:27 AM) bucky: and it’s just taylor swift and hozier???

(10:27 AM) bucky: who the hell wants to have sex with a taylor swift song playing

(10:28 AM) you: I’m gonna kill you

(10:28 AM) bucky: nah <3

It’s surprisingly easy, dating Bucky Barnes, and by the end of the first month, you feel at home, at ease. He talks a lot, way more than you expected him to, he shares his favorites, the way he always underlines quotes he likes in the books he’s reading or how he never eats anything that has soy in it. He shows you everything about him, not just who he is, but who he’s ever been. And it’s beautiful.

And you observe how he breathes easier now, smiles more. He doesn’t keep his guard up, doesn’t flinch when nobody’s looking at him.

He thinks it’s weird.

He thinks it’s weird, because kissing has always been an act of foreplay to him and he never paid much attention, but now, with you, he could spend his whole life kissing you.

But when you start pulling at the buttons of his black expensive shirt, well, it’s not like he’s complaining. He presses his body against yours, his hands almost shaking, his fingers burying in your hair, slowly tugging.

“Bucky,” You breath in his neck, “I may be bad at this.”

“What?” He whispers as he leaves wet trails all the way to your chest.

“I haven’t done this before, so I may be bad at it.”

He stares right at your lips, notices your sweet cherry scent mixing with the sharp notes of his aftershave, touches the spot under your eyes and smiles.

“Guess we’ll have to do it over and over again then.” He’s half laughing, half kissing your shoulder and you can feel your cheeks flush and your entire being tighten.

And then his cold fingertips draw circles on your inner thighs and you close your eyes, and Bucky forgets how to breath.

“I probably sound like a fool but, I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t plan on saying it that early, but he’s here, warm and glistening and in your arms and you can’t go another minute without hearing the words out loud.

“And I probably sound competitive but, I’ve been in love with you since God knows when.”

(AH IT’S FINISHED BUT YAY THEY’RE IN LOVE)

tagging: @tonystankschild @osterfieldshollandgirl @roguesthetic @buckyjms @ohladymacbeth

#i had one of the worst months but hello hello i am back #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #college au #au!bucky barnes #college au!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #hassandra #fools

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taechaos · 3 years

Text

Blackmail

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Jimin offers you information on Jungkook, but your friendship is misconstrued by Jungkook who ends it singlehandedly with one video of you professing your love to him between moans.

warnings: dubcon, fingering, degredation, mild squirting, manipulation

word count: 2.8k

a/n: jealous kook doesn't realize he's jealous. this part is a bit extreme, so beware ><

One doesn't come across someone like Jungkook every day. It's fate that you met him in your first year of college, extending to your second where he grows closer to you; fair, it's clear that he only intends to use you for his academic success, but you've deluded yourself into thinking you're in love with each other. Growing up, you only had your dysfunctional family to teach you about how to love, how to think. As long as Jungkook needs you, he will love you, and you’re willing to do anything to be with him, only him. You need him to live.

Birds sing in the background as you lay on your stomach on the grass of the yard across the campus. It’s sunny and breezy, the perfect spring day as you work on Jungkook’s research paper due next month. You compiled multiple credible sources in a separate file to create an outline for his essay the moment he forwarded the assignment to you. You want him to praise you, pet your hair, kiss your cheek for starting so early so he can turn it in before anyone else. He would be proud, flashing you his pearly whites and adoring eyes. The reward motivates you to work harder and you’re relentlessly skimming through articles while counting down the minutes of Jungkook's lecture. He'll be outside with his friends in 7 minutes.

With a bad childhood, you don’t care to befriend many people. You only have a few friends to keep you company and you’re socially awkward outside of that group. You’re content, so you steer clear of boys who try to sabotage your relationship with Jungkook. Jimin, however, doesn’t get the memo.

Typing away on your laptop, a shadow looms over you to give you a break from the sunlight. You glance up and stop swinging your legs absentmindedly when you recognize the shadow; it’s a boy with frames and a tight collar adorning his neck.

Park Jimin is a typical nerd whereas you’re more of a closeted nerd. When you’re in love, you usually put more effort into your appearance to impress the one on your mind, but that doesn’t work with Jungkook. It’s always other men giving you their attention through second glances, and that includes Jimin.

“What do you want?” you rudely greet. Jimin is ruthless with his attempts at pursuing you; he’s the perfect gentleman, and often volunteers to do group tasks with you. He is never mean to anyone, and has a squeaky clean reputation, but his only flaw is that he can’t take a hint. You don't bother being friendly to him because you don't want friends.

"I want to know why you look so happy," he bends over to curiously glance at your screen, "while doing homework?"

You slam the monitor closed to stop his ogling. "You wouldn't get it. And stop watching me," you sternly say.

"What's your secret?" he grins and sits down on the grass next to you with crossed legs. His upper body serves as a shade and you stop squinting.

"There is no secret, I was just in a good mood until you came along." You're not upset, but you don't want to lead Jimin on and he won't leave unless you blow him off.

"Thinking of Jungkook?" he teases with a mischievous smile.

"Are you stalking me?"

"No, you're just too obvious," he chuckles, but the sound is strained. You don't notice his melancholy as he continues, "You were doing his homework again?"

You shift on your propped elbows a little uncomfortably. Jimin doesn't need to know what you do in your free time. "Yes," you answer anyway.

"You know he has daddy issues?"

Your eyes round as your discomfort dissipates instantly; he's piqued your interest. "Really?"

"Yeah, he has a tough exterior but he's actually a real softie."

An involuntary smile carves on your face before it falters as you ask, "How do you know this?"

"We went to high school together. I can tell you some stories if you want," he boasts when he realizes he has your attention. The context makes his heart sink, but when he imagines your lovesick grin is directed at him, it fills him with joy.

"Tell me, tell me! Please."

"Weeell," he draws with a lopsided grin, "don't tell him I told you this, but he used to hate girls. I don't know if he still does, but back then he couldn't even stand talking to a girl."

"Why?" your eyes are wide with interest as you whisper.

He shrugs, "No idea, but he hit a girl once when she wouldn't stop clinging onto him. Not like drop-kick her," he laughs, "he just shoved her on the ground. Be careful with him, okay? He can be very aggres-"

"You guys forming a nerd club now?"

You gasp when you hear Jungkook's voice. When you look up at him, he's almost glaring as his eyes flicker from you to Jimin. You're gleeful at his approach, because he never comes to you unless it's about a new assignment. It flutters your heart to see him without any papers in his hand.

You don't take his subtle insult to heart as you immediately respond, "No, we were just talking. H-Hi."

"Pull down your skirt, you look like a whore. I can see your panties all the way from the gates," he seethes in distaste. You instantly sit up with a blush and tug your skirt down to your knees. He looks back at Jimin who's glaring at him under his lashes, "The fuck's your deal?"

"Nothing," Jimin grits. Although he hates Jungkook's guts, he's too smart to fight a lost cause. He has his own set of muscles, but it isn't enough. It's best to accept defeat now.

"Did you start on the paper?" Jungkook asks you.

"Yes, I-"

"Good," he cuts you off and crouches to peck your lips by pulling the back of your neck. You're stunned when he pulls away and nonchalantly walks off to his friends.

Jimin follows him with his eyes and mutters under his breath, "douche."

Your heart is racing and you clamp a hand over your chest as a lovestruck smile spreads across your face. You know this is your end of the bargain, but it never fails to shrivel you up in delight.

"Are you two dating?" he mumbles as he pulls on the grass with a pout.

"Something like that," you exhale as you caress your lips.

It’s become routine to link up with Jimin where he reminisces his high school memories and you don’t doubt a single word he says unless it sheds a bad light on Jungkook. You’ve learned so much about him in the past few days, and you’re eager to know more. He likes energy drinks to this day, he was athletic in school and often got into fights. He began interacting with girls when he entered college, as Jimin says, “only for a quick fuck.”

Though it hurts Jimin that you only talk to him for information on Jungkook, he can’t bring himself to care when you hang onto every word he says with a glint in your eyes like you’re doing now.

You're sitting in the bustling cafeteria across from Jimin, sipping on a homemade strawberry lemonade from your thermos, and you don't notice Jungkook glancing at your table every now and then. It is the first time he doesn't feel your heavy gaze on him. Jimin does notice however, because he is facing him every time he receives a threatening ferile look.

"He could become a lawyer with how much he blackmailed the teachers to give him a good grade," Jimin tells you as he glances back and forth between you and Jungkook. "He's quite dangerous, you know. He's manipulative, a liar and has no empathy-"

"He's clever," you counter defensively, "he knows how to get around the system."

He makes a disgruntled noise from the back of his throat with a grimace. "I don't think the judge would listen to that."

You laugh at his comparison of the conversation to a court hearing. Jimin can be funny sometimes, and you have to admit that he's not that bad of a friend either. You've come to enjoy his company without the topic of Jungkook the past few days, but talking about him is always appreciated.

"Are you the judge then?" you cheekily ask.

"I might as well be, since I'm not biased like a certain someone," he teases with a grin.

"A lawyer has to see the bright side of things, but if I was the prosecutor, I wouldn't tell you that your lecture is in five minutes."

His smile falters as his eyes widen; you remember his schedule? He ran late for a lecture yesterday, but he’s in disbelief that you reminded him today. "Th-Thanks," he breathes as he packs up his belongings before giving you a curt, shy nod. His heart pounds when he walks away, and he resists the urge to look back at you.

It's a good idea, because that's when Jungkook settles down on his former seat.

"I'm thinking you might be forgetting who you belong to," he starts as he gets comfortable on the stiff chair. You instantly smile at his appearance.

"No, I'm very well aware of it." Your tone is high-pitched in excitement.

"It wasn't a question."

"Oh..."

“You talk more than you work,” he observes with a quirk of his brow. “One would think another nerd would be a better influence on you.”

“I work at night,” you defend worriedly, “I promise I’m not slacking off. Can I get a kiss please?”

You’re so adorable when you’re needy. He hides a smirk with a bite of his lip; he thrives from your loyalty to him, but he knows Jimin is a threat to it. He wants you to stop talking to that freak, and he justifies it as a concern for his grades. “I’ll kiss you when you’re not procrastinating. Do you think you deserve even a pat on the head?”

“I do! I’m halfway done with the research paper, please Jungkook,” you beg pathetically, “I-I’ll show it to you, I have it with me right now.” You start unzipping the case of your laptop until he holds up a hand for you to stop.

“You’re going to read it to me, but not here.”

When he stands up, so do you in a haste. He leaves the cafeteria with you hot on his tail, almost jogging when his strides are much bigger compared to yours. You resemble a clueless lamb following a lion, desperate to hold his claws with your hooves. You don’t know where he’s leading you as you walk down the halls until you stop in front of a door. You’re about to freak out when he swings open the door, but you realize the lecture room is empty.

“You want me to read here?” you inquire meekly. It’s a little intimidating to do it in complete silence, because you have a tendency to stutter when reading out loud and you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Jungkook where no one can talk over you.

“Yup.” He snatches your laptop case from your hand with the handle, and roughly opens it before placing the device on the front row wooden desk. It’s a large hall, and the desks stretch out to the half of the room. You’re feeling stage fright for no particular reason; it feels like reverse claustrophobia. “Open the document and give me your phone.”

You don’t question him and hand in your phone before going through your files on the laptop. Jungkook is looking through your contacts and grins when he finds himself saved as: the love of my life ♡. Jimin is saved by his name, and he finds his WhatsApp through his information below. Once he opens your empty chat with him, he switches to your camera and pushes your back so you’re bent over the desk. You sharply inhale and ask, “Kook?”

“Don’t get distracted now,” he lightly scolds and starts pulling down your pants. You stopped wearing skirts after the incident a week ago to appease him. You stammer with your back arched, and your ass is on full display for him. It’s humiliating. “Start reading.”

“H-Humans are- Jungkook?” you warily look back at Jungkook when he slides the slit of your panties to the side.

“Are you slacking off?” he condescends.

You bite your lip anxiously and continue reading, “Humans are social animals that n-need social interaction,” Jungkook spits in his hand, “the extent of our social relationships is the most important predictor of h-happiness.” You squeal when you feel wet fingers graze your folds, but you know better than to stop and ask what he’s doing.

“Continue,” he coaxes softly as he brushes his fingertips over your pussy lips.

“Um, o-one of the main reasons our brains have developed the way they have is so that we can be social,” you speak between shaky breaths. Your cheeks are tinted crimson with embarrassment from his touches; why is he pleasuring you when he specifically told you, you didn’t deserve any? “Being happy a-all of the time is neither possible nor desirable.”

“Is it now?” He slips a finger in your cunt and you involuntarily let out a cry as you push your body forward. You don’t notice him holding up your phone behind you while slowly sliding his finger in and out of you. His saliva is mixing with your arousal as you answer in a gasp, “Yes.”

“Tell me why.”

“B-Because negative feelings are natural. When it comes to negative feelings, the most important thing to remember is to learn,” you pause to exhale with quivering lips, “to control certain potentially harmful thoughts.” You whine his name when another finger is added to your heat. You’re moving your hips back and forth until he slaps your wet folds as a warning. “Sorry,” you peep and continue in a breath, “Happiness all of the time entails epistemic irrationality.”

It’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you just want to indulge in his thrusts, but you’re encouraged to stop reading when he doesn’t comment on your moans. His pace is quickening and you chase his fingers with your hips, cum dripping down his wrist as you mewl.

“You enjoying yourself, whore?”

You nod and whimper, “So much.” You’re clutching the edge of the desk as he fingers you with fervor.

“And you're my girl?”

“Yes, all yours, I love you so much,” you pant, not stopping for a moment to question his words. He has a full view of your sopping wet cunt on the camera, and he lightly blows on you, making you shiver. He’s recording you confess your love for him while getting fingered.

“Only me?” he presses.

“Only you, Jungkook, I love you more than anything,” you slur as you start to feel a knot in your stomach.

“Then pee.”

“Wh-What?”

“Touch your clit and pee.” He removes his fingers from your clenching hole and takes a step back. “Prove your love to me.”

You mourn the loss of his hand while staring wide-eyed at the floor. You’re contemplating his demand as your hand slowly reaches down to your clit. Is he asking you to squirt? Your breathing is shallow as you near your climax, and you still don’t know if you’ll go through with his requirement.

It drips out in tiny drops as you come undone, moaning as clear liquid spills out of you for only a few seconds.

“Good girl, my good little girl,” Jungkook whispers as he intently watches you humiliate yourself in the name of love. You’re twitching and trembling in shame when he stops recording you and sends it to Jimin without a second’s waste. “Are you okay, baby?”

You hum with a pout as you collect yourself by standing up straight, a sway in your posture.

“Give me your panties, you’ve made a mess on the floor,” he chastises as he holds out a hand. You slip and step out of them before giving it to him. In return, he passes your phone before feigning a gasp, “Shit, I think I sent Jimin a video of you when I was trying to forward it to my phone.”

Your mouth falls open as heat consumes your entire being. “H-Huh?” Tears brim in your eyes almost instantly; your heart is pounding from anxiety.

“How will you ever look at him now,” he empathizes with a fake frown. “He must think of you as such a slut now.”

“Let me delete it,” you panic as you open your phone. “Wh-Where is it?”

He motions you to give him the phone and opens WhatsApp after. “He’s already seen it.” There are two blue ticks under the message.

“No, no, no,” you pull your hair in agony with a whimper. You quickly put your pants back on and cry as you do so.

“I guess that’s the end of your friendship,” he raises his eyebrows to himself without a hint of sympathy.

“What do I do?!” you wail and fling your hands in stress.

“Avoid him. I’ll make sure he won’t leak it.”

He steps forward to lean in your face intimidatingly. “And don’t talk to him ever again.”

You don’t exactly have a choice now, do you?

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jjk smut

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lantsovsupremacist · 3 years

Text

nikolai lantsov: august

@wafflesandschemingfaces requested a piece inspired by august, and i am more than happy to push the august agenda. THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG IM SO SORRY!!! i hope it’s okay that i worked this in as a part two of “mirrorball.”

happy AUGUST babes! this was originally going to end angsty but i was feeling generous so enjoy the happier ending :)))

he tasted like salt, which had been a rarity at home. with the prices spiking in the cities, the smaller markets in the countryside could not supply even the simplest spice. having reignited the placated desire, you were greedy for more of him.

over the last seven months, you took advantage of nearly every opportunity the volkvony offered. you strengthened your abilities at sea with the careful instruction of the two other tidemakers onboard. tamar’s twin brother, toyla, guided your interest in grisha literature and history.

certain adjustments proved more difficult than others. you were no stranger to early work or rising in a shared room. however, despite the bright flush from the use of your powers, your muscles ached under the strain of the new practice. you found your training to be an unfamiliar yet cherished consistency.

you struggled with feelings of inferiority at first. the other female tidemaker, yelena, was a stowaway from the little palace. disregarding her heavy contempt for the school there, her experience helped you immensely.

peter was also a comfort in his own way. another self-taught grisha himself, it only pained you to hear of his family’s acceptance and attempts to teach him. your family might not have thrown you to the fjerdans but they offered little to help you control the power.

time could not move backwards to prevent your wounds but it could move forward to heal them.

now, perched on the deck beside yelena, you were calmer and more confident than ever before. you watched sturmhond out of the corner of you eye, turning your head in the wind to guide a piece of hair back out of your face. his white shirt billowed in the wind, sleeves rolled up and hands in the air to help dictate one of his famous stories.

“you look at him as if he hung the stars in the sky himself,” yelena snorted, elegantly drawing up a rather powerful wave to hasten your journey south, “trust me, he’ll take the hint and never let it go.”

but for you, perhaps he had. a new constellation, at least. three stars shined brighter than before for you, now visible to the naked eye. freedom, purpose, and opportunity. his gracious offer extended to beyond the imaginable.

“i could never have dreamed of this,” you replied earnestly, lightly bumping into her hip with your own.

“kerch does not have blondes, no?” she teased, exaggerating her already thick ravkan accent.

you blushed, nonetheless, “you’re going to get us off task, yelena.”

she rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the sea with a grunt. you did not miss the small smile that barely touched her face after, however. you would have missed it if she had not adjusted your arm, lifting it higher to create a higher crest.

in truth, you did not mind. you enjoyed observing. from your station at one side of the hull, you had a suitable view of the surrounding activity on the deck. storytelling only happened to be one of the aforementioned pursuits by the crew.

—

the first time was an accident. you nearly ran into him one morning during your second week onboard. the sun had filtered through the cracks in your room, beckoning your rise. you chased the sunbeams up the staircase adjacent to the door and soaked in the warmth they graciously provided.

the sunrise was magnificent. too distracted by the beauty painted in front of you in the sky, your elbow caught the captain’s. your eyes immediately went wide, an apology poised on your tongue. growing up with seven siblings, you were accustomed to making yourself smaller to allot room for the others. what other habits would you lose during your time aboard the volkvony?

“that’s quite alright,” sturmhond replied, eyes twinkling at the pale pink flush of your cheeks, “i suppose the sunrise caught my attention, as well,” he turned his head back, “though, that might not be all that did.”

as the tempo of your heart approached a crescendo, you nodded with a nervous smile. your eldest sister’s experiences with boys were all you had to go off of. your parents were together, yes, but as you aged, you realized that the nature of their union simply secured stability for the both of them. love had been an after thought and a forgotten one at that.

“want to watch it with me?” his eyes were brighter than the sun, more vibrant than the various hues splattered across the sky.

sounding just as much of a child as did he, you responded, “i would love to.”

he waited for no counter, immediately taking your hand in his to nearly drag you up the stairs. his hand was surprisingly warm despite the slight chill in the morning air. your brain fought the feeling of his touch at first, recognizing the pressure of his fingers now intertwined with yours but refusing to reciprocate the gesture.

by the time the sun reached a pinnacle in the sky, shining it seemed for just the two of you, you had given him your hand and your heart.

you let him memorize your story, pausing when he could not remember the order of your siblings. you repeated it until he could. the mornings were filled with whispers and soft touches. you thought he was helping you write a new story—one where maybe, you could have your perspective at the forefront.

—

the pressure of his his knee shamelessly pressing into yours dominated your thoughts. you decided that it would be more disconcerting to slide away from him but each passing moment added fuel to the fire of his warmth. you did not know what to think about the way he made you feel.

“i’m not who you think i am,” the privateer spoke, deadly calm. his tone did not waver, nor did the contact his eyes maintained with the horizon.

you wanted to tease the boy beside you but one look at the frown overtaking his face gave you pause. you felt increasingly uncomfortable, which you never did with him, not even when he first introduced himself. it was all wrong.

“i’m not sure what you mean,” you whispered hesitantly, trailing your fingers in the dust of the deck before they grew too numb to control.

his jaw clenched. his eyes bore into the sea. you only heard the sound of his breath—strangled and uneven.

“sturmhond,” you tried, watching as the wind ruffled his tawny and unkept hair.

“no,” he strained, “nikolai.”

an unusual name but a beautiful name, you decided.

“i-i don’t understand,” you fought to get the words out—battling with breaths instead of bombs, syllables instead of swords.

you wanted to push it all aside for naive hope, content with your pocket of fool’s gold.

“do you remember when we sailed to the outskirts of ravka?” he questioned you, gaining control of the previous shake in his voice.

you hummed in reply, trying to put together the pieces of his puzzle before he realized you had not finished yet.

the blonde looked like he was in pain when he next spoke, “the prince,” he began with his eyes timidly locked on your own, “his name is nikolai.”

contrary to your lack of education, you were clever and thus, able to fill in the blanks for yourself.

“who else knows?” you might have hoped for something more but you were not innocent enough to believe the prince only shared his identity with the girl who had succumbed to his longing stares.

“the twins,” he began with a sigh too heavy for him to carry alone, “yelena. one or two others.”

yelena knew. for some reason, your stomach turned at that. you knew it was misplaced and unnecessary jealously but there it sat all the same, weighing you down like an unmovable stone. a similar pressure pulsed behind your eyes, forcing a collection of tears to your waterline.

he offered an apology with words, but it was his eyes that held the true sincerity, the way his fingers restlessly knotted in his lap, and that even though it was a fight, he had moved aside to give you space. you wanted to believe that everything would be okay despite the change, that it could be, at least.

your heart ached. you never wanted him further away from you. or closer. his body was too familiar now.

nikolai never belonged to you, not really. and even if ravka would inevitably melt his golden heart and carelessly mold it to their benefit, he belonged to the broken country. not to you. never to you—alone.

with that, of course, you could not belong to him, either. a farmer’s daughter who did not complete her primary studies. maybe you did have a claim to grisha power, but you knew enough about ravka to understand that you would be a soldier. you already felt like one, fighting an endless battle between your head and heart. diligence and desire.

“you let me—,” you swallowed thickly, “give myself to you. you made it so easy to be sure.” now, you were no longer as certain in your decisions.

he kicked his feet in the water, unable to carry your gaze lest he lose it much like your heart, “i hoped it could be different.”

you searched for anything to ground yourself in along the horizon, burning your eyes in the sinking sun, “you’ll have to go back, then.”

he nodded, his head bobbing more fitfully than the waves, “yes.”

your did not want to talk any longer because if you did, you were sure that you would cry. you decided that you had, in fact, been foolish. how could you live off of hope alone? your destiny belonged to the fields not the sea.

“okay.”

“okay?” nikolai repeated, voice dancing between disbelief and what might have been anger, unable to remember the next step, “that’s all that’s left?”

“i think so,” you replied airily, turning to brush a lock of his hair behind his ear, “because i understand. i might not want to. well, i certainly don’t want to but—,”

you were cut off and for the blonde boy beside you to do it, you knew he had good reason. he gave you a voice simply by listening, something few had done for you before. your words had been stolen by his lips in the end.

“i might not be able to give you nikolai,” his lips were down turned but now flushed with color, “but i can give you sturmhond. i can give you nik,” he brought your hand to his heart, “that is if you’ll have me?”

you did not belong to prince nikolai of ravka. he could not be a character in your story. but, you could write another chapter. you could change the plot for the better.

you kissed him with as much fervor as he had earlier. he twisted his fingers into your hair, winding a passage to the back of your neck. you curled into the warmth radiating from his side, fisting his shirt before slowly pulling away.

“i can’t believe you’re a prince.”

that earned you a laugh. the laugh you knew you could never live with losing. if you could not have him entirely, you would hold onto anything that could be yours. just yours. for now, the heat of the sun on your faces split wide with grins was enough.

grishaverse taglist: @just-a-human-witha-pen @ilovemarvelanne1 @story-scribbler @subjecta13-thefangirl

#nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lanstov imagines #nikolai lantsov #sab fanfiction #sab fanfic #sab fic #sab netflix #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone #siege and storm #ruin and rising #grishaverse #the grisha series #rule of wolves #sturmhond

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worstloki · 3 years

Text

Top Forty Thor-Being-Thor Moments from Thor 1

just absolute dumb*ssery that this 7yr old kid’s life goal is to “hunt down the monsters and slay them all”. I’ll go easy on him here and let the Thor/Loki expressions do the talking because of “...just like you did Father” but seriously can his hands even fit around a sword handle??? this kid isn’t even punching the air right??? if there was a sword in his hand he would’ve cut his head with the way he’s moving???? pure tiny-himbo energy here just look at that >:o face he’s making. contrasts very nicely with Loki’s ‘,:|. 10/10. such a baby idiot.

“the jotuns must pay for what they have done! they broke into the weapons vault! if the frost giants had stolen even one of these relics!” thor. thor please. can you even name one of these relics. thor. hey thor. thor. shut up. “well, what would you do about this?” odin asks him. “march into jotunheim! like you once did! break their spirits! so they’ll never try anything like this again!” wow okay so we’ve fast-forwarded by like a thousand years and thor is still going on about genocide. huh. that’s funny, i thought loki was the genocidal one. hmm. i also just realized that the loki exclusive clip gives loki the same hairstyle thor has here so do what you will with that information.

0/10. horrible. terrible. i dont care how angy thor is about not getting to kill some jotuns or become king today this very instant, that is a tremendous waste of food. an absolute fool. how can he just remorselessly throw the bread to the floor. if loki stabbed him when he was 7 he would deserve it for this table flip alone. what a privileged white *ssh*le.

loki came skulking around a corner and suggested not to go to jotunheim and not only did thor not suspect anything but he also then went on to decide to go to jotunheim. 10/10 himbo material.

if tumblr didn’t have a picture limit i would put every instance of thor smiling in this list because look at that stupid smile. he’s such an idiot. 11/10. this is the thor content i’m here for.

“I have no plans to die today” thor says with the stupidest open-mouthed smirking smile ever captured on film. right after he also told heimdall not to tell anyone they’re gone. he’s literally planned to strand them on jotunheim. thor’s grand plan was to strange themselves on jotunheim and also start a fight. i repeat: thor’s plan was to successfully slay all the frost giants and not need to return until they’re all gone. what an absolute d*mb*ss. this is getting ridiculous. this was originally a top-ten-thor moments list but i’m not even twenty minutes in so i’ll have to extend the list. thor. thor are you listening? thor, you’re such an idiot.

“HOW DID YOUR PEOPLE GET INTO ASGARD?!” thor you sweet sweet summer idiot, please, i am beggin,g you,, learn to rea,d , a room,, literally everyone else who came with you is regretting it, there is complete silence and only the rumble of the opposing king is meeting your “I AM THOR, SON OF ODIN”s, please, please take some notes from Loki, or, you know, literally anyone else in the room, since everyone is asking you to get out of this realm while you still can,

thor’s stupid smile makes an appearance after he gets called a princess and decides to fight a whole realm over it. you know what? thor is a princess. he’s the prettiest princess in all the lands. what’s thor gonna do about it? is he going to fight me too? I hope he does the stupid grin first. minus 15 points for the sexism. thor is a complete and utter sadistic fool who needs to get a hobby. seriously, he’s 1500 years old and still going on and on about slaying all the frost giants. boi, i hate to break it to you, but your dad is not the best or only example of greatness out there. i don’t think your dad even qualifies as an example of that.

“THEN. GO!” 🥰 ahh yes, just thor thingz 🥰🥰 like when one friend has had his arm burnt 🥰 and another friend has been impaled and needs medical attention, 🥰🥰 and all the rest of your friends are yelling for you, 🥰 and your brother is telling you they must go, 🥰 and you decide to buy everyone time by laughing maniacally and killing more frosties because you care for them and dont find joy in destruction like a loon 🥰🥰🥰

THIS is the iconic Thor moment that makes my day whenever I think about it. Just Thor, an absolute bumbering 6′6′’ giant boodlusting dummy sees Odin and just decides to yell “FATHAA!! WE’LL FINISH THEM TOGETHAAA!” as if the last thing Odin told him wasn’t “no, thor, we’re not going to do anything to the frost giants, do not go after them and try to kill them all.” 11/10 d*mb*assery right here folks, I couldn’t ask for Thor to be more of a fool. This is PEAK Thor energy. Look at that face. I feel like Thor spends half this movie with his nostrils flared. I love it.

okay i gotta give thor credit for rightfully calling odin “an old man and a fool” but also there was not even 1 frame of the scene where Thor had a decent face so now all i see is >:O >:| >:o >:[ when i watch that scene. yelling at odin was great, not yelling at odin after he HUAERGHed at loki was less great, but to be fair it’s thor and he is the definition of Peak D*mb*ss.

thor literally GROWLS and starts yelling “HAMMAA?? HAMMER??” over and over. He was hit by a van, he fainted, he woke up and started growling. I don’t know what else there is to say about this.

“you dare threaten me? puny human?”. so. uhh. basically. Thor knew she was threatening him? He KNEW she had a weapon? instead he made a face and started yelling as he tried to walk his way closer????? thor you complete and utter dum dum. you frickin hairball-for-brains. im not even surprised darcy tasered him. with that kind of face, i’d taser him too.

when you wake up in an unknown place to a person smiling at you without a stupid smile, the first step is always to attack first and ask questions later 😌😌😌 (but seriously thor you imbecile why didn’t you ask where you were instead of throwing multiple people around the room and getting your butt needled. you clueless buffoon. you’ll remain a clueless buffoon if you don’t listen to anyone.)

just a quick recap but thor was knocked unconscious by a van and these people kidnapped him aboard and the next scene we see him in he’s checking himself out in mirror after presumably changing right there in the open?????? these are the things that make thor thor. any other character and i’d question it so much, but this is thor, and i truly believe this is in-character for him. just change in the open because why not? thor is a beefcake and that’s his only redeeming quality and he knows it. 10/10 thor moment.

I am now convinced that Thor saw Jane and “5k van-hitter to lover slow-burn height-difference himbo-scientist trope” flashed through his mind.

“but no more smashing!” Jane says, and then Thor proceeds to check her out and smile unlike an idiot and like a douche. was this his version of flirting???? i’m not one to decide, but yes, yes it was. He threw a cup to the ground and broke it, and she’s getting mad at him and berating him about it, and he’s liking it. y’all i’m sorry to break it to you like this, but thor has a canon fetish. i am so, so sorry.

im DYING. THAT ISN’T EVEN A KISS, HIS MOUTH IS OPEN. he SMUSHES his mouth around her knuckle???? WHY. I can’t keep noticing things like this. send help. please. Jane’s response makes so much more sense now; she’s laughs for a solid 3 seconds and shakes her head and is like “uhh, thank you? ahaha,” and then she keeps looking back longingly when walking away. they are doing this in PLAIN sight of EVERYONE. Darcy and Erik are standing RIGHT THERE, and Thor is doing weird things to her with his mouth. I’m out. I am done here. goodbye.

return of the stupid smile AND the douche smile in quick succession through the entire trip. their entire dialogue is peppered with innuendo. “I’ve never done anything like this before. have you ever done anything like this before?” “many times, but you are brave to do it.” “I have nothing else to lose.” “ah but you are clever, far more clever than anyone else on this realm.” “realm? rEaLm?” “you think me strange?” “yes” “good strange or bad strange?” “I haven’t decided yet.” I AM DYING OVER THIS. plus, we get Return Of The Himbo with Jane asking after Einstein Rosen bridges and Thor is like “uh, actually, more like a rainbow bridge 😜🤪” i feel so sorry for jane here, didn’t know how much of a d*mb*ss Thor was when signing up for this van-trip and knuckle-sucking 😭😭😭 i also no longer have questions about how the trip that SHOULD HAVE BEEN A HALF-HOUR ONE turned into one that LASTED TILL THE SUN WENT FROM THE MIDDLE OF THE SKY TO SETTING by the time they arrived. I have no questions. please. I don’t want to know what they were doing in that van. please no. don’t make me think about it.

thor’s plan had 3 steps and they were 1. give jane his jacket 2. walk in and get his hammer 3. fly out. that was literally his plan. he had the first “I have a plan. attack.” moment in the MCU. pure concentrated 0-brain-cells energy right here. how can you not stan this king of d*mb*ssery. look at him, flaunting his big boy muscles. he’s about get his hammer and fly out, like he just told jane with a trademark stupid-smile.

crop-top hair-mop thor is my favourite thor. the way the entire fight scene parallels a hamster in a maze only exemplifies the thor vibes for some inexplicable reason.

“you’re big. fought bigger.” + Thor douche-smile + subtext from earlier + rolling around passionately in the mud = not a happy me.

I swear i’m not making up this romantic subtext but it’s barely even subtext. the entire scene leading up to Thor’s attempt at lifting the hammer is actually filmed erotically. I’m not kidding. First there’s a shot where Thor pulls aside a hamster-cage-wall blind which mirrors a shower-curtain, and THEN he walks around the hammer while smiling douche-ly at it, we get a few close-ups to his face which are shot from angles slightly lower than himself, giving him an aire of superiority, plus the music adds to this, he reaches out for the hammer’s handle with a mud-covered arm in the rain, in non-slow-motion slow-motion, and he wraps his arm around it, like, he fully twists his arm, unecessarily sexually, around it as he grabs the hammer. This is not okay. On the plus side, it makes the movie much more entertaining,, on the down side,,.

im not going to call Thor dumb for not knowing he’s not worthy. im not going to. because odin literally whispered the enchantment to mjolnir after he’d thrown thor to midgard. it is very funny watching thor grunt in frustration though. he starts yelling because he couldn’t lift the hammer and just lets himself get caught. like, dude, get a life, go buy a new weapon from the store, seriously. he mourns for the hammer on-screen longer than he does for loki. he also looks like he’s in far more pain here. he becomes catatonic and unresponsive after this, but when loki dies he’s already feasting the same afternoon. 10/10 dum dum thor material. never change thor, never change. (that’s code for please change, thor, please,)

thor trying to establish dominance wherever he goes is the funniest thing because at this point he’s being a complete asgardian *ss about it and it’s reaching points of pettiness never seen before. side note: he is possibly flirting with selvig too. maybe. i’m not saying anything happened, but Thor’s openning lines when bringing him home carried over his shoulder are “he’s fine, not injured at all,” followed with an apology to selvig, and an explanation to jane which consisted only of “we drank, we fought, he made his ancestors proud,” and then he puts the man to bed and before he falls asleep erik says “i still don’t believe you’re the g*d of th*nder, but you ought to be,” so... your choice, i guess...

thor’s got his trademark stupid smile and stupidly takes jane’s life’s work notebook and starts doodling in it about trees. the last time his father told him this story about Yggdrasil was when he was 5 and he clearly hasn’t payed attention to any lesson about anything since and it shows so so much. thank you thor. very insightful knowledge you’re passing on hear. ‘i come from a world where [science and magic] are one and the same,’ ok great, now elaborate on that please. oh, right, you can’t because you’re thor, my bad, 20/10 thor behaviour. he couldn’t even doodle nicely. all his lines are wobbly. epic art fail. i wouldn’t trust him near my sketchbook with a 2B pencil.

THIS is thor’s realization face. in case anyone was interested in what ‘dawning truth’ looked like on him. 😰😪 THIS is the face of a thinker, of a man betrayed by his own beloved brother for unprecedented reasons. look at the nuance in his expression. 😩😩😩 so many emotions, I can’t even count them all 😩💯😪

stupid smile and “do not worry my friends, i have a plan,” he says, “i’ll just try and abuse the fact that Loki’s super selfless and kind and has no self worth to my benefit as i have countless times before which is exactly what he’s rightfully angry about this time,” he doesn’t think to himself because that is NOT the smile of someone who is thinking... like, at all. +10000 points to gryffinthor. the d*mb*ssery really jumps out.

“im sorry bro for whatever i did and whatever you’re blaming me for as an excuse to do this, im sorry bro, but you’re disturbing innocents that i don’t really care about but you’re the one making a scene in front of them so why don’t you admit you won’t kill me and are just having a temper tantrum and we move on? hmm?” and then he proceeds to get slam dunked in the face with a metal arm like yEAAAA BOI that’s what you GET for going up against the SENTIENT LAVA-SPEWING metal-man ya absolute dunderhead clod. thunderhead clod? yeah, that. he’s just so dumb, your honour, please, you must understand, the victim pleads guilty on all charges of d*mb*ss and d*mb*ss alone.

I can NOT describe the emotions I feel knowing that Thor is suck-kissing Jane’s knuckles. Like, his mouth is literally jelly-ing it up against her hand. There is suction there and it shows when he is placing and removing his mouth. I promise that’s what is happening. I’m not any happier than you about this. I regret everything. This is why Loki should be what is focused on and not Thor; Thor’s going around trying to frick frack everything in sight even if it’s just Jane’s hand. He’s maintaining eye contact with Jane while he licks her fingers. Why did I decide to rewatch this movie.

i’m only adding this in as a thor moment because of how desperately and badly they kiss. seriously. 2/10 kiss. im not surprised jane broke up with him. they look like two actual seals fighting over an actual grape. while i’m here i’m going to criticize every fic ever that decided thor is an experienced gentle lover. what were y’all on when watching this movie. thor can and will f*ck literally everything in sight and he won’t even do it well because he is the peakest of peak d*m d*m. look at this man. look at his face. that is the face of an absolute himbo idiot, and it’s the face of an absolute himbo idiot who knows it. he’s been stranded on earth for 2 days, max, and his flirt-count is at 69 people because his name is one letter away from thot. i bet his terrible use of a pen from early means he writes his ‘r’s like ‘t’s and he doesn’t even care. 1000/10 thor moment. doesn’t get much more romance-thor than two individuals smooshing their faces together after some finger sucking. that finger sucking is gonna leave jane simping for years. and that’s true love babey. <3

“I’ll handle my Brother!” Thor says, as if Loki didn’t send a metal-murder-bot that quite virtually killed him less than ten minutes ago asdfhkhsdgsdjf Thor, you horrific himbo you, Loki’s weapon of choice is literally throwing knives he will literally kill you before you enter the room if he’s on his game and wants you dead which he just proved he would do and you’re just gonna???????????? jog on over to him????? Thor??????????? bruH???????????? buddy??????? pal???????? you really wanna go 1v1 the brother you very clearly underestimate and know nothing about????????????????? im loving the confidence, but, no.

Loki: “you literally can’t stop this from here.” Thor, immediately: “i’m going to hit it with the hammer and see if that works” and then it does in fact work later... technically speaking, even if it ends up causing chaos destruction and death and loki falling off the bifrost 😔😔😔 but Big Brain Thor is the Biggest Brained Thor!!! The plan worked!! in a messy-Thor-ish way, but it did!!!

“you can’t kill an entire race!!!!” Thor yells, teeth gritted, as he faces his brother, his coward pacifist brother, who has suddenly decided he wants to join the age-old family tradition of realm-destroying, when this is supposed to be Thor’s dream, Thor’s, not Loki’s. How dare he, Thor thinks to himself, fist clenched around Mjolnir in anger, the pain of the handle pressing against his palm perhaps the only thing preventing him from lashing out at this thought, that’s my planet of monsters to slay, he should go get his own! Loki hits Thor across the face with the back-end of his spear. “Now fight me,” Loki says, but Thor, well, Thor cannot fight, as he remains stunned that of all things Loki would dare steal his life’s ambition, and he is sent sprawling backwards across the observatory, slowly but surely sliding to a stop despite his catatonic, very symbolic silence.

the elegance, the poise, i see your time on earth has made you no less graceful, Thor. the simple magnitude of this sprawl. the spread of the arms. the turn of the feet. this is not a dude, this is a man.

sometimes your brother starts vehemently talking about he’s gonna kill the race of monsters and about how he’s only ever wanted to be your equal and about how he’s not your brother and never was and sometimes you just have to say “this is madness” instead of addressing the issues or asking for any of the deets 🔥 👊💯😩

Loki is whipping Thor’s butt. Both literally, and metaphorically, Loki is whooping Thor’s d*mb*ss. Earlier he knicked Thor’s face, now he’s just pushing Thor around, he uses the spear as a pole and later kicks Thor’s face by kicking vertically up, and Thor, bless him in all his blond golden muscled glory, doesn’t think anything is up with this, gosh he’s such an absolute utter idiot

sometimes your brother laughs way too much and also cries too much in a fight and there are also too many of him so you just need to blast lightning so you get a shot at all of them 😌😌😌 and then put your magical infinitely-heavy hammer on his chest 😌😌😌 but it’s okay because Thor left holes in Loki’s container 😌😌😌

now THIS is the meat to Thor’s funny bone, just the pure unadulterated humour that is Thor saying that there will never be a “wiser king” or a “better father” than Odin, it cracks me up every single time without fail, just the way he says it with a straight face and— what do you mean he wasn’t joking

look at Thor’s stupid smile as he asks Heimdall to spy on jane every single day while conveniently never asking after Loki ever. This is Thor’s face in mourning after he attended a feast after everyone was celebrating after Loki’s death. Look at his stupid smile. I love him your honour. He’s just,, he’s just so frickin stewpeed, just Thor being Thor, just the purest of d*mbest of *sses.

#listen #if people can interpret loki and the grandmaster as a thing when loki spends the entire time looking uncomfortable about every situation #then i can interpret thor as flirting with people when there are actual canon questions which get solved when other explanations dont work #so #dont mind me here #in conclusion: thor is a dum dum idiot and it's *chef's kiss*#thank you for coming to my ted talk #ThisPostIsLongerThanMyLifeSpan #TPILTMLS #Language!#language #im one of those people who comments on things through movies but you can't be mad because it's worth it and i've got points #obviously writing means i can get the full gist of the comments out without summarizing #but #like #my family is simply underappreciative and i'm a genius

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frostahesmegabite · 3 years

Text

The Judgement of Carrion

@daily-writing-challenge - Day 4 - Accomplish/Macabre [ Content warning: Blood, Guts, Gore, Bits of Torture, That sort of stuff. While there aren't pages and pages of it, it is present in this short story. I tried to find a balance of detail and keeping things light without going into ‘Hostel’ territory. ]

Human forts were a dime a dozen, easily found and half of them forgotten or falling to ruin due to the numerous war fronts that were constantly moving across the face of Azeroth to fight one force or another. Some lost to time, others to ruin, some to marauding forces and others simply abandoned because they were no longer needed. It was one of these Forts that Megahes had put to use for himself and probably his most comprehensive and long lasting pastime.

Clever little devices put into play to keep things looking abandoned and misused, neglected and falling to ruin. The place had not only been repaired but also reinforced with Magical and Mechanical Goblin ingenuity that was built upon with knowledge gained over the past several decades.

Inside of this fort, despite the fact it was never intended to receive an actual willful audience, was decorative furniture made of fine dark woods embroidered with rich velvets, soft silks and the finest wools and cottons coin could acquire. Tables stretching about with plates and goldware that no man or woman other than Megahes would ever see sat to present an atmosphere of riches on display. Trophy cases and stands line the walls with numerous weapons of both magical and mundane descent that perch over Armor Stands holding protective metal layers meant not just for Goblins, but all races.

If any ever came to somehow find the place and took the time to inspect any of it, they’d find that all of these items weren’t as ‘pristine’ as they may appear at a distance. Damage came to them all at some point or another. Blunted blades, shattered axe heads assembled to look presentable. Armor with gashes, pierced helmets or chest pieces, greaves with shorn metal by the thighs that most likely led to bleed outs.

The more one could look, the more they’d note that all of the gear was like walking through a museum of deathly wounds. All that stood or hung from the walls had a story of defeat and loss and probably before then, great triumphs, valor and victory… just to have their stories end here.

Megahes pays no mind to these things now though as he walks with his back rigid and straight, his arms back behind him with hands clasping the other arms elbow in some overly formal glide across the stone floor. His bright white and gold attire is a stark beacon amongst the dark colors and atmosphere of the room that one should have found comforting, but for some reason, only brought worry and dread with it as he moves about his untold business.

[ Artwork by the Magnificent Fishadee. No Fire or Light Shards floating about in this scene, purely put for clothing example. https://twitter.com/fishadee ] He stops, not worrying to look around for any watchers, for he knows there are none as he stops at a small wall just behind a staircase. “Rehorur decno Kudex.” A series of flashes occur around our Goblin and once completed a small stone panel slides off to the side and Megahes puts his hand into the slot. A sudden sharp ‘shing!’ sound is head and Mega’s neck tenses but for a moment before his hand is withdrawn. A mechanical but feminine voice perks up from the slot. “Welcome back.” “Hmm.” The only sound Megahes makes before he takes a step back and then to the left. The stone wall jars forward at an alarming speed, spikes erupting from her stone crevices meant to impale and kill any would-be intruders while giving Megahes the solitary moment that was needed to pass behind the crude defense into the wall beyond. Whether by measured practice or perhaps sensors, the trap quickly retreats and returns to normal, giving off no telltale signs of a hidden door or of Mega’s earlier passing.

The reason for all this secrecy? Hidden at the end of the staircase Mega was already descending. Humans had their specialties sure, jacks of all trades those people. But the one thing they never fail to make well?

Jail Cells and Prisons.

It was this singular reason that Megahes took over this once ramshackle Fort for himself. Though there weren’t many cells, there was no need. Three of them sat in a row at the bottom of the stairs, each outfitted with custom Arcano-tech that allowed for the arrival of a singular occupant that was soon set to magical and electrical suppression to keep them docile and incapable of action while time slowly allowed them to become dehydrated and starved to where strength or speed was no longer an issue either.

The work put into this place was one of Mega’s hidden creations of pride and in the past, its use went towards a sorted pastime of torturing whoever was unfortunate enough to get caught by one of his traps. Times change however and with Mega’s newfound religion, came the need to change how and why he did things while applying them to old hobbies. Today’s hobby however, only involved one other person beyond himself and Mega comes to stand right before him as electricity pulses through his frail, nearly starved frame.

“Brother Abacus.” A stupid name, false to be sure, but one that Megahes didn’t really care about either way. “I realize you don’t know who I am and that’s quite alright.” He leans in, voice dialing down as he speaks through the bars just as another tide of electricity bombards the ‘Brother’, causing him to whimper and whine in pain. “You have been found guilty of being a member of a Twilight Cult, one in fact, that was run by Dinthoqaf the Defiler.”

The cultist looks up, arms shaking in heavy tremors as he tries to look his would-be captor in the eye. They give out however, causing him to hit the ground with an exhale. His cracked and bleeding lips wobble, trying to say something, but the lack of strength made their efforts near useless. It was sad really, or at least it would be if Megahes cared about the man's condition in the slightest.

Megah glides over to a control panel on the wall and proceeds to flip a series of switches and dials which cause several mechanical tendrils to tear from the wall in Abacus’ cell that soon lash him to the same wall they originated from. His body was quickly drawn into an ‘X’ shape with limbs pulled tight and to their limits.

“You see. Your former… Employer? Boss? Leader.” Megahes hands lift and tumble in slow methodical circles as he tries to find the right word, but leaves it be. “Him and I don’t get along very well and thanks to his efforts, I find myself needing to improvise my tactics a bit. While I know he’s dead, face turned to slag and glass, I wanna make sure I get the job done correctly, meaning none of his followers try to take up his mantle. I’m sure you understand.”

He turns around and heads into the cell, worry of electrocution now gone thanks to the current state of affairs. “You see. I have this…” He pauses. “...Macabre little ritual I have to do every so often and believe me.” The Goblin laughs while looking up at the man while proceeding to straighten up his clothes, as if it mattered. “As much as people might want me to say I hate doing this… I don’t. I’ve been doing this to people way before you all found me and now. Now I get to put my hobbies to better use.”

Megahes’ hand comes up, his index finger pressing to his lips to tell Brother Abacus to be silent. His smile fades with the gesture and he reaches up, pressing his black and gold painted claw against the clothing of this man's thigh. Downward, slowly, it runs. Fabric quickly turns from a peasant-y brown to a heavy red and brown as flesh below seems to split before the clothing itself can.

Magic? Possibly. Insanely sharp claws? Not likely. But whatever it was, the man's thigh split open as if by scalpel and despite his starvation, he thrashes weakly in an effort to pull away. The machines holding his wrists tighten and continue to do so until the sound of bone is heard crunching.

This process continues on not just for mere moments but stretches of hours, lines drawn across flesh like sand. Megahes had nothing else to say and so, despite the protests and pleading, begging to let him go and he’d tell no one, Mega continued.

Soon, details were carved away, facial features, scalp and its rooted hair, ears. Nearly anything that could be taken and removed without outright killing this poor cultist was taken in some macabre movie of silence and torture and finally, when the man was nearest his end, Megahes opens his own shirt.

The metal embedded into his Chest that shines with the Light like a beacon in this squalor, practically vibrates as Mega runs his blood coated hands across its surface. Red blood made semi-translucent by the sheer shine, soon was baked and cooked black, all Vitae devoured, leaving Megahes to sigh in relief.

“I would ask you to tell the Defiler thank you for giving me this. But… we both know you’re never going to have that opportunity.”

Megahes runs his hand up from Brother Abacus' groin clear up to his collarbone, shearing clean through flesh and muscle alike. What came next was a grotesque shower of innards that began to fall and slop to the floor, leaving our would-be cultist inanimate and lifeless.

“Now to clean up and go home. Tonight’s my date night and I have so many things to accomplish before She gets home…” Soon, the jail cells were left dark and eventually the slow trickling of blood and various other liquids came to silence in the dark, waiting to be cleaned up and for a new subject to be taken.

#blood #gore #gif #warning #torture #goblin #daily-writing-challenge #Megahes #Day4DWC #Macabre #murder

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thearchvillain · 3 years

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of horsefairs and maidens. part 1

nikolai lantsov x reader

link to part 2

summary: The weather is warm and the air thick with the scent of summer blossoms at the epicentre of horse auctions and races, Caryeva - and Nikolai Lantsov has been bored out of his mind for the past... what feels like an eternity. When even counting how many times his brother has made a fool of himself lost its appeal and became nearly tragic to watch, Nikolai retreated to the edges of the fair only to find that pretty girl Vasily had been dragging around all day hiding on the outskirts, seemingly desperate to escape the supposed Lantsov charm. Or whatever version of it Vasily had offered. "Tomorrow then.", he leaned down beside her, "I'll buy all your father's horses if that's what it takes." Watching her from the side he could just see the tiniest of smirks grace the corner of her lips, "That's an expensive sport you're wanting to try out." "Well, have I ever told you that I have a lot of money?" "Silly me, and here I was thinking you were a mere peasant." "Was it the humility? The rogue charm?"

word count: 2085

warnings: mentions of animal abuse, also Vasily being generally shitty as always

A/N - this is my first attempt at writing this sort of AU/imagine/excerpt, and I’ve gone overboard with the word count (as always), but I hope you will like it! i thought i might fit it into one part, but both Nikolai and the main character had so much to say I figured there would have to be another part thrown in there haha also we have some (briefly) confused!Nikolai, so I hope you enjoy that!

She'd hidden herself well, standing at the very edges of the fair where the trees cast their shadows long and wide in the evening sun, offering a pocket of peace to both the animals and the humans looking for a moment of silence, or cold breeze not laden with the scent of alcohol and sweat and horses.

Nikolai had been watching her for a while, straight-backed and still in her rider's outfit, standing near the rickety fence and looking at the horses not quite suited for the finer crowds that milled around the crown prince back at the heart of the fair. He supposed it was a good place to hide, not so much because of the forest behind them, but because his brother was far too vain to venture this far out.

"I saw you before, you're the girl who's been entertaining the crown prince.", he said, casually, noncommittally. She'd been ignoring the sound of his steps as he'd approached her from behind, drawn in by some sight before her, and even now she didn't so much as glance over her shoulder. Instead, she let out a sound that might have been a snort, but more lady-like, "Well, he's certainly not been entertaining me, so someone had to get the job done."

Nikolai stopped just short of the fence, to her left, and finally when the girl turned her head to see who she was speaking to he could see the brief flash of recognition in her eyes. So she hadn't known who she was speaking to. The surprise stayed there only for the briefest time, then morphed into something that might have been calculation, as if she were weighing her options - to speak of the prince to his brother this way was a dangerous game, at least if one wasn't familiar with Nikolai.

She finally settled on a slight nod, as graceful as it was superficial, "My apologies.", then she cocked an eyebrow, "Tell me, your highness, could this cost me my tongue?"

Cheeky. He smirked, "Only if it's me you're speaking of this way, and even then only because it would be a terrible lie. I'm wonderfully entertaining."

She made a noncommittal sound and looked back at her horses, "Does it run in the family?"

Nikolai felt personally slighted that the giant lump of muscle that was a horse a few meters away from them seemed more interesting to her than he did, but it wasn't like he was going to just back off, "At least give me a chance, it'd be a shame for you to think we're all like that."

"Like what?", she turned her clever eyes back to him and smiled, "You make it sound like I've implied the crown prince is not charming."

"Oh, you haven't. I'm the one implying it.", this seemed to draw out a chuckle from her. Take that, horse. "You're rather good at hiding distaste, I'll give you that."

"Who says I'm not hiding it now?"

"Ouch.", his hand went briefly to his chest in a theatrical display of hurt, "How come you're not nearly as charming to me as you've been to Vasily?"

"Because you don't seem like a jackass. How's that for the capital offence?"

"Personally, I see none, merely a good judge of character."

This time the chuckle she let over her lips was a bit less restrained, and he'd be damned if he didn't take that as a win. Now her eyes slid back to the meadow in front of them, beaten down by horseshoes and boots until it was nothing but mud, and Nikolai watched her watch that same horse she'd been staring at since he'd first spotted her. One could claim it was nothing special if it weren't for its size - he'd be damned if that wasn't the largest horse he'd seen since the army, and probably the roughest-looking.

"Do you have a penchant for the uglier specimen or are you just wondering about his size?"

The girl gave him the dirtiest look he'd been given in a while, "He's not ugly, just old and overworked.", then as if to sound less stern, "But he is a big boy, even for his breed."

Well, that attempt at a joke about his looks fell flat. He wasn't used to that. "How do you know?"

This seemed to be more her tune because she perked up and pointed one long, elegant finger at the horse, "Do you see the way he's walking? And the scars on his flank?", she didn't wait for the answer, he could hear the urgent irritation in her voice, "He's been severely abused - his hind leg has been broken and never set properly, and you rarely see a valuable work animal this scarred from beatings and equipment."

Now Nikolai looked, actually looked, he could see the ridges of old scars crisscrossing his entire body, and something off about the way he ambled around as if to put a distance between himself and the people. "I thought he was a warhorse, that those were battle wounds. Not something his owners would do to him."

He could see her soften a bit when she heard the shock and disgust that laced his tone, her eyes going briefly to him before she looked at the horse again, "Vasily wouldn't even look at him."

"You tried to show him to my brother?"

She frowned at his tone, "I had no choice! My father won't let me buy him, and he's going to be sold for meat if I don't get him before this hell show is over."

"You want to buy him?"

No, actually, this was the dirtiest look he'd received from a woman, "Well, of course. He deserves a peaceful, loving retirement. He's suffered enough."

Now it was Nikolai's turn to look incredulous, "I thought you were letting my brother drag you around like a prized mare because you wanted an actual prized mare."

She sputtered, incredulity lining her features before she finally found her voice, "Excuse me?"

"Not like that --"

"Like what then?"

Nikolai cleared his throat, if only to buy himself time, "Well, this went off the rails fairly quickly."

She turned her entire body towards him now, and he could feel the anger vibrating off her tiny frame in waves, all directed at him, "You were never on the damn rails."

Fair enough. "It says nothing of your character, anyone who listens to his drivel for an entire day should be well-compensated for their emotional trouble."

"I'll need to be well-compensated after this conversation."

"I don't think that old horse will do it though."

She smacked him on the arm. It took Nikolai a second to process what had just happened, as he looked down to his arm where her fist had punched him with all the righteousness of a woman scorned, then back up at her, incredulous once again. "I was joking."

"Try doing it again, but this time make it funny."

When Nikolai didn't answer quickly enough she put her hands on her hips and raised a brow, "Well?"

"Well-- my extensive education in diplomacy tells me I should ease off with the jokes and perhaps try to apologise?"

Her brow somehow went even higher, it made him feel young and squeamish.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply you were accompanying my brother for your gain."

"Oh, please, of course I've been advising him on horses because I want something out of him, why else would I listen to him compare me to a mare and act like he'd written me a sonnet."

"He compared you to a horse?"

"An expensive one, so it's fine in his mind.", she let out a shaky breath, the anger still simmering beneath the soft rosy tint that coloured her cheeks. Nikolai couldn't help but stare, taken aback by the simplicity of her intentions, her irritation - she'd been keeping her cool the entire day, nodding prettily whenever his brother said something, offering him her expertise only to have it thrown back in her face because she was not meant to be listened to, only showed off. And she was not a girl that wanted to be showed off or ignored, that much was clear.

"What?"

She turned to look at him, and Nikolai caught himself mid-stare, too absorbed in his thoughts to recognize that he'd been looking at her a bit too long. "Nothing, I'm just impressed."

"With what?"

"You.", he smirked, "I mean you've been suffering under his charms all day, then mine, and at the end of it you're restrained enough to only punch me in the arm?"

She frowned, her eyes sliding to his arm, uncertainty on her features, "Can I get in trouble for that?"

"Oh no, I'm into it."

She raised a brow, and Nikolai couldn't help the smirk that passed across his lips. Then he said, out of nowhere, "Will you come to dine with me?"

"As you said, your brother thinks I'm his prized mare."

That was only half a no, so he thought he might still have some wiggle-room left there, "Well I think you're far prettier than that. At least a good racehorse."

"Saints I want to smack you again."

Nikolai leaned in, his voice conspirational, "Well, yeah, that was kind of the point."

That chuckle again. He noticed that the feathery hair at the back of her neck curled delightfully when she turned to look at the fair and wondered briefly what she might look like when she let her hair down from her ponytail. His thoughts were interrupted when she said, "I can't. My father wants me to keep him amused, so Vasily might buy from him instead of the breeder from the next town over."

Nikolai frowned, "So he sent you out to entertain the creepier of the two princes like a well-trained monkey?"

"You just physically can't say a sentence without petting your own ego, can you?"

"Oh, you're noticing that just now?"

She leaned her forearms on the fence, staring out at the distance, "Are you really surprised? My sister probably knows even more than I do about the horses, but it was never about the knowledge."

Nikolai wished he could tell her he was, but he'd been made all too familiar with how these things worked in court, why his mother had paraded him around so much, with his pretty golden curls and charming smiles.

"Tomorrow then.", he leaned down beside her, "I'll buy all your father's horses if that's what it takes."

Watching her from the side he could just see the tiniest of smirks grace the corner of her lips, "That's an expensive sport you're wanting to try out."

"Well, have I ever told you that I have a lot of money?"

"Silly me, and here I was thinking you were a mere peasant."

"Was it the humility? The rogue charm?"

He'd just turned his head to look at her, a smirk playing on his lips, ready to come up with another joke to try and get another laugh from her when his brother's voice carried over from somewhere behind her, "Brother. I see you've met my advisor.", there was an edge to his voice, even if he was all drunken smiles, "She's pretty isn't she?"

"The prettiest.", Nikolai replied, pleasantly, even if he knew that wasn't quite the most interesting thing about her, "Come to save her from me?"

"Always.", Vasily's eyes went to the girl, and Nikolai realised he'd never asked for her name, "Did he bore you?"

"Not at all.", the mask slipped back onto her face, as empty as it was pretty, not that Vasily would ever notice, "I see he's inherited your charm."

"Yes, but not quite all of it."

Nikolai cast a glance her way and offered a slight smirk, something unspoken about it, an intimate joke, "I shall leave you two alone, I'm sure you've found another horse to bore her with, brother."

Vasily cleared his throat, "See you at dinner, little brother."

As he walked away, he could hear Vasily ask her for the details of their conversation, the jealousy seeping into his voice like poison. Then something about the workhorse they'd been looking at, wondering why she'd ever want that broken halfbreed. Nikolai knew why his brother had raised his voice when saying that, knew those words were meant for him more than her, but he was too tired to care. Tomorrow then. Hell, he might actually get himself some horses of his own tomorrow.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #grishaverse #shadow and bone #of horsefairs and maidens #reposting this to the new standalone blog!#for practicality's sake #really sorry for the confusion tough <3 #i'll be posting part 2 and other excerpts on this blog from now on :)

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contemplativepancakes · 3 years

Text

not if it’s you

4k post mountain hurt/comfort fix it with gratuitous eskel for @witcher-and-his-bard . read on ao3 here!

Jaskier strums his lute idly, drumming his fingers on the base. He clears his throat before he starts tapping his foot on the wooden floor. Geralt is sure they can hear it four days down. He knows that if he prods Jaskier, he’ll just clam up and spend another three days working towards whatever he wants to say, though, so Geralt just lets him fidget.

To Geralt’s frustration, Jaskier doesn’t broach whatever topic has him worked up that day, or the next, or the one after that, and eventually, Geralt doesn’t think about it anymore. It must not have been important, never mind the fact that anything Jaskier says is inherently important to him.

Geralt lets himself get swept up in the wave that is Yennefer, in that someone like her could ever desire someone like him. Geralt doesn’t know what she sees, still doesn’t even know why Jaskier sticks around, and he at least has a little more to offer him than he does to Yen.

And so, when Yennefer pushes him away, he pushes right back, on the one person that’s still convinced he isn’t completely full of shit. It won’t take long for Geralt to right that wrong; it’s not like he deserves that anyway. The words tumble from Geralt’s lips, each one making Jaskier’s face twist more and more.

Geralt thinks it might be the most he’s ever said to Jaskier all in one go, and that—that thought hurts.

Geralt turns his back so he doesn’t have to look at Jaskier.

“Right. Right, then.” Jaskier clears his throat, says something about the others. “I’ll... see you around, Geralt.”

There’s hesitation on the tip of his tongue, and it sounds like there’s something else he wants to say, but he doesn’t, he just turns and goes.

It must not have been important, Geralt thinks.

Geralt barely makes it to the winter. He’s about felled on three contracts that normally would have been nothing to sneeze at, but he just…can’t think. He can’t focus on what he’s doing, now that this is all he’s good for again. Just someone to slay monsters for people who don’t appreciate it, with no one to even limp back to at the end of the day.

Geralt combs a hand through Roach’s mane, determined not to bring her down with his melancholy mood. Besides, he’ll be at Kaer Morhen in a few days, and he’s sure everything will look brighter around his family and with his belly full. There’s something about a pitiful looking witcher that doesn’t inspire very much generosity by those setting the contracts, and Geralt can’t muster the will to argue with them about it.

He takes what he’s given. It’s when he got greedy and wanted too much that things started to fall apart, after all.

When he makes it to the keep, Vesemir comes out to greet him, concern twisting his face as he walks with Geralt to the stables. Geralt is sure he reeks; he hasn’t taken a bath in weeks and the emotions wafting off of him can’t be of the pleasant variety, but Vesemir doesn’t comment, just begins to brush Roach down as Geralt takes off her tack.

They stay silent all throughout finishing Roach’s care, until Geralt is triple checking that there’s nothing stuck in her hooves because he’s trying to delay any uncomfortable conversations.

Vesemir clears his throat. “Supper should be ready. You need to eat more.”

Geralt breathes a sigh of relief and follows him into the keep.

The warm air hits him in the face, oppressively stuffy, as he trails behind Vesemir to the kitchen. When he was still young, they used to sit in the dining room, laughter and chatter drifting through the crowded hall and drowning out the clink of cutlery, but now there’s only silence that does nothing to ease Geralt’s nerves.

He hadn’t realized he was so nervous to see his brothers until now. He’s not sure if he wants them to say something or nothing at all; each is its own special brand of depressing. Maybe Geralt is typically so morose anyway they won’t notice anything is amiss.

Geralt forces himself to eat, each bite turning into sawdust in his mouth, but he swallows it down despite that. Eskel gives him a scrutinizing look over the rim of his glass, but he doesn’t say anything. Lambert is too distracted in kicking Aiden under the table, and he’s barely said ten words to Geralt since he got here.

Geralt sighs.

Later, Eskel finds him.

Eskel comes into his room without knocking, and Geralt turns around to give him a half hearted snarl. Eskel rolls his eyes and sits on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Who says anything is wrong?”

Eskel wrinkles his nose. “You stink.”

“Well, no one asked you to be in my room. You’re welcome to leave at any time.”

“Was it some villagers? Because I can go back and show them what an actual scary witcher looks like, gods know you’re too soft to get anywhere approaching intimidating.”

Geralt attempts a half hearted grin and hums. Eskel flops back on the bed, his hand coming up to itch at his face. “Not villagers, then. Your humans?”

Geralt grunts. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“So it is, then. Yennefer?”

Geralt walks over to the bed and shoves Eskel over to something resembling just one half before dropping down beside him. He kicks at Eskel’s legs to get them out of his space.

“Triss? Jaskier?”

Geralt rolls over and buries his head into a pillow.

He tenses when Eskel’s broad hands land on his shoulders. Eskel pauses, waiting for his permission, so Geralt relaxes his muscles, softening under Eskel’s touch. He rubs the knots out of Geralt’s back, digging in with his thumbs, until Geralt is a motionless pile of goo. He’s not sure he could move even if a monster came crashing in through the window.

“Ready to talk yet?” Eskel murmurs.

“It’s—nothing is going right.”

Eskel hums. “Welcome to the life of a witcher. I hadn’t realized this was new for you.”

Geralt rolls over onto his back, looking over at Eskel to where he’s splayed out beside him. He considers the way Eskel’s mouth is turned down and reaches out to trace Eskel’s scars with his fingertips. Eskel turns his head away, but Geralt presses closer to him and plants a kiss on his jaw.

“Geralt,” Eskel says in warning, but Geralt would really like to just not think right now.

“Please?”

Eskel softens. Geralt so rarely lets himself ask for anything, and he knows Eskel understands the significance. Eskel turns towards him and wraps his arms around Geralt, tucking Geralt’s head under his chin. He pokes at Geralt’s chest. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

Geralt presses kisses along Eskel’s collarbone, not saying anything beyond a grunt.

Eskel sighs and lets Geralt kiss him, their mouths meeting in something soft and sad.

Eskel opens to him, and Geralt lets the desire lick its way up his belly to settle somewhere in his chest. Eskel tugs Geralt's shirt off, and Geralt does the same for him, rubbing a hand across Eskel's torso and admiring how solid he is, his thumb tracing a jagged scar across Eskel’s pectoral.

Eskel just looks at his ribs protruding through his skin and frowns, so Geralt does his best to distract him. "Come here," he mutters, pulling Eskel into another kiss.

Eskel's hands slide their way up his torso, brushing across his nipples and landing on his biceps and squeezing. Geralt knows that's one part of him that hasn't wasted away, at least. The soft layers are always the first to go when times are lean. Geralt's largely used to it, but it hasn't been this bad in a while. Certainly not since Jaskier had started traveling with him.

Geralt attempts to force his brain to stop thinking about Jaskier out of sheer willpower, but it evades his best efforts.

He drags his fingertips over Eskel's skin, trying to ground himself. He slides them from the smooth expanse of Eskel's forearms to his calloused palms, remembering how Eskel's rough hands feel around his cock.

He does not make any comparisons to Jaskier's clever fingers.

Geralt rolls them over, positioning himself on top as he deepens the kiss, making it as sloppy as he can and trying to lose himself in the sensation.

Unfortunately for him, witchers aren't meant to lose themselves in anything, their senses too sharp to ever truly be able to focus on just one thing. Geralt can hear Lambert and Aiden arguing three doors down, and he can smell the contentedness dripping off Vesemir at having them all there, mixed with just the slightest bit of sour worry. Geralt tries to ignore that last part.

"Hey," Eskel whispers. "You okay?"

"Mm," Geralt says, burying his face in Eskel's neck. "Peachy."

"Liar," Eskel replies, but it's without heat, and he coaxes Geralt back out of his neck and into another kiss.

Geralt slides his hands down Eskel's torso, unknotting his trouser ties and tugging them off. Eskel does the same for him, stripping them both out of their small clothes until his half hard cock is pressed against Geralt's bare skin.

Geralt reaches down between them and takes Eskel in hand, stroking him to full hardness and enjoying the sound of the rumbling coming from Eskel's chest.

Eskel raises a gentle hand to frame Geralt's face, stroking a thumb over his cheekbone before moving on to tucking a strand of hair being Geralt's ear.

Geralt swallows hard at the tenderness of it all. There's a burning in his chest, climbing up his ribcage and threatening to consume him, that he doesn't want to examine too closely.

Geralt jacks Eskel faster, but Eskel puts his hand on Geralt's and slows the movement. "We have time," he says.

Geralt lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment. They have time. Frankly, too damn much of it, if you ask Geralt.

He's distracted by Eskel moving away from him, sitting up to rummage through the stand next to the bed. He comes back with oil and settles back on the bed, slicking his fingers and reaching behind himself.

Geralt shuts his eyes for a moment, trying not to let himself be dragged down by the overwhelming scent and sight of Eskel this close to him and opening himself up for Geralt.

"Fuck, Eskel," he moans.

"Like what you see?" Eskel asks, turning his head away.

Geralt puts his fingers on Eskel's chin and tilts his head back. "Yes."

Eskel’s eyes dart down, but Geralt's gaze stays fixed on him, tracking the microexpressions of pleasure on Eskel's face until he leans forward to kiss him again, Eskel's lips warm and soft on his own.

Eventually, Eskel puts a hand on Geralt's chest, and Geralt pulls away in question.

Eskel pushes Geralt back, guiding him to lay down before wiping his hand on the bed spread. Geralt makes an indignant noise. "You doing my washing?"

"It's going to get a lot dirtier than that, don't worry," Eskel says with a wink.

Geralt gives him an exasperated eye roll, but it's lost when Eskel grips the base of his cock and sinks down on it.

Geralt inhales a sharp breath, letting the waves of pleasure wash over him as Eskel starts to ride him.

"Just let me take care of you," he whispers, so Geralt does.

After, Eskel rolls off of him, laying on the lumpy mattress beside Geralt. They stay in silence for quite a while, until Eskel finally says. “So it’s Jaskier, then?”

Geralt grunts and shoves at Eskel’s shoulder, but Eskel just gives him a self satisfied smirk before sobering again. “Neither one of us deserves second best, Geralt.”

“So you’ve...you’ve found someone, then?”

Eskel shrugs. “Maybe. For now.”

There’s a knife digging under his rib cage. Eskel’s never had someone serious before, at least not that he’s told Geralt about. It hurts more than Geralt can explain, and he wonders if Eskel feels this way about him. Neither one of them have any claim to the other, but—they do, a little. It’d been just them for so long.

When Geralt couldn’t even find a whore who would touch him because no coin purse could ever begin to outweigh their fear and disgust at witchers, Eskel had been there, waiting for Geralt at Kaer Morhen. And now, who knows if Eskel will even return next winter. Maybe he’ll bring his lover. Geralt feels sick.

Eskel must be able to sense Geralt’s thoughts spiraling because he tugs him closer, combing his fingers through Geralt’s hair. Geralt lets the motion soothe him to sleep.

Geralt spends the rest of the winter keeping everyone at arm’s length. No one moreso than Eskel. He pretends not to see the hurt looks Eskel gives him, but Geralt just—he can’t. At least he had pushed Yennefer and Jaskier away all by himself. Eskel left him of his own volition.

Logically, Geralt knows that isn’t fair, that he’s holding Eskel to a higher standard than he holds himself, but he can’t help the way it feels like someone ripped an arrow right out of him, the head catching on ragged flesh as it comes out and makes everything worse.

By the time the snow in the pass has melted, Geralt is practically climbing the walls. He makes himself seek Eskel out before he leaves. Eskel looks surprised to see him, and Geralt’s sure he thought Geralt was going to leave without so much as a goodbye. Geralt gives Eskel a rough hug. “I’m happy for you,” he says.

When they pull away, Eskel looks at him closely. “Take care of yourself. I’m gonna kick your ass at gwent next winter.”

This startles a laugh out of Geralt. “Keep dreaming.”

As he mounts Roach to leave the keep, he looks to the horizon. He pats Roach’s neck and resolves to make it to next winter, for Eskel, if no one else.

And so, irony decides to slap him in the face. He agrees to take a contract for a graveir that has been terrorizing the woods just outside of a village. Geralt makes his preparations, but he’s not too concerned about a singular graveir. Sure, they can be dangerous if they get the jump on him, but he’s not going to let that happen.

Famous last words.

The first problem is that it’s not a graveir; it’s a leshen. Geralt curses as he scrambles back from it, rotting flesh peeling away from the deer skull that it calls a head. Geralt’s not sure how the villagers managed to skip this little detail, and his mind is coming up blank for ideas on how to get out of this. Leshens are ancient and not easy to kill at the best of times. Unprepared and on the defensive is hardly an ideal circumstance.

Geralt knows he’s not going to be able to kill it, but he might be able to reason with it. Leshen are intelligent, so Geralt steels his nerves and sheathes his sword, holding out his hands.

“I’m sorry—” is all he gets out before the leshen lashes out with one of it’s branched arms and catches him hard in the side.

Geralt hisses in pain and drops to his knees, clutching at his side. He looks up at the leshen, trying to think of something, anything, that’s going to get him out of this predicament alive, but he draws a blank.

The leshen bludgeons him again, and he doesn’t think about anything else for quite a while.

“Geralt? Gods, Geralt!”

When Geralt wakes up, he thinks he must be dead. It’s the only reasonable explanation. If he had survived his encounter with the leshen, he would be lying on the hard ground with no less than four tiny rocks or twigs digging into his back, but he’s on a soft mattress. And it smells like...Jaskier?

Yes, this definitely isn’t real.

Geralt keeps his eyes shut as he registers the details and slowly fills in the world around him.

Jaskier is picking at his nails in a chair next to the bed, and there’s a clock slowly ticking on the wall. Jaskier sighs and tugs at the blanket covering Geralt, pulling it from his shoulders to rest just beneath Geralt’s chin.

Geralt finally surmises that he must not be dead, because if he were, all of these sounds and smells wouldn’t be grating so much on his senses.

He lets Jaskier’s fidgeting go on for three more minutes before he finally darts out a hand from underneath the blankets to take hold of Jaskier’s hands. Jaskier’s pulse ratchets up, and Geralt draws his hand back like he’s been burned. Jaskier has been drenched in the scent of fear ever since Geralt had gained enough consciousness to register the smell, and Geralt hates it.

He never wants Jaskier to smell like that, and the thought that he’s causing it? Well, it’s not a pleasant one. Jaskier had never been frightened of him before, but Geralt supposes he can’t expect everything to simply go back to the way it was before, even if desperately wants it to.

“Stay still, please,” Geralt scrapes out finally, and Jaskier stops his fiddling immediately.

“Oh, I’m,” he drops his voice to a whisper, “sorry. Your ears must be very sensitive right now.”

Geralt grunts in vague agreement, and some of the fear scent mellows out into something more resembling worry. Honestly, in this state, Jaskier could probably fight him off without too much of an issue, so he’s not sure what exactly he has to be worried about.

Jaskier stares at Geralt’s peaceful profile. The lines on his face have smoothed out in sleep, and his chest rises and falls at a steady rate. Jaskier lets out a deep sigh and scrubs his hands over his face. He was never enough for Geralt the first time around, so he doesn’t know why he thinks this time will be any different.

Just because, what? Because he saved Geralt this time instead of the other way around? Well, only about eleven more times to go and then they’ll be even.

Jaskier pulls out his notebook and flips to a page near the beginning. He runs his fingers over the words that have been smudged by age and tears, tapping his nails on the curves of the letters. He bites his lip as he looks back up at Geralt before closing the book again. Geralt wouldn’t have wanted this then, and he sure as fuck doesn’t want it right now.

The best thing Jaskier could do for him would be to leave, but Jaskier is selfish, and he needs to see that Geralt is going to wake up again for himself.

He’d been scared out of his wits earlier; sure that this time he’d finally lost it and he’d started to hallucinate while he had stumbled around in the woods. There had been a resounding crash, so Jaskier had gone to check it out, and he could almost hear Geralt berating him for his nonexistent survival instincts.

Jaskier had found Geralt, his white hair haloed around his head and still convinced he was seeing things. When he had sunk to his knees beside Geralt’s still form and reached out a hand, Geralt was solid and real and bloody, so Jaskier had panicked.

He didn’t know what to do, so he flitted his hands over Geralt until he found where the blood was sluggishly seeping from and pressed down hard. He tried to ignore his shaky hands, but it was hard to do when the bottles he fumbled from Geralt’s pack clinked together incessantly.

He almost dropped one, and upon closer examination, it looked like the one Geralt always took when he would come back wounded. Jaskier knew he shouldn’t try to make an unconscious person drink anything, but Geralt was looking dangerously paler by the second, and he didn’t see any other options. He lifted Geralt’s head up and pulled him into his lap, supporting his head as he tipped the bottle’s contents between Geralt’s lips.

Somehow, Jaskier had flagged down a cart that was passing not too far from where they were on a trail and had convinced the driver to help them. He’s sure he looked quite the sight, Geralt’s blood all over his doublet, but there must have been enough genuine panic in his voice to get the point across.

And now they’re here, Geralt taking rattling breaths as he sleeps. Geralt had wanted destiny to take him off his hands, but Jaskier…

He must be a glutton for punishment, because he can’t bring himself to leave Geralt’s side.

Geralt wakes again to a soft humming, and he cracks his eyes open to be surprised that Jaskier is still here. He allows himself to hope for a moment that maybe all isn’t lost before he quashes it. It’s more likely Jaskier was just waiting for him to wake up so he could tell him off to his face.

Geralt heaves himself to a sitting position, and Jaskier rushes over to him. “Easy!”

Geralt leans back against the headboard and prods his side. It feels slightly tender, but not anywhere near as bad as it was before.

“How long have I been asleep?” Geralt croaks.

Jaskier shrugs. “A day? Not long.”

“Healed up well.”

Jaskier eyes him. “Well, you have a stunningly handsome nurse to thank for that.”

“Well, where’s he at?” Geralt asks, before he can’t help himself and a chuckle escapes his lips.

Jaskier shoves at him, and for a second, everything is right again, exactly back to the way things were before. But Geralt can’t stop the tightening of his features after the jostling, and Jaskier takes immediate note. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“Fine,” Geralt grits out. Jaskier’s already spent too long taking care of him as is.

“Oh.” Jaskier sits back down in the chair next to him.

Geralt waits for the beratement, the anger about why Jaskier wasted years of his life on him, but it doesn’t come.

And so Geralt is forced to make the first move. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was cruel, and you didn’t—you never deserved that.”

Jaskier looks over at him in surprise, and it twists Geralt’s insides to see Jaskier looking at him like that over a simple apology.

“It turns out bards aren’t very successful when they’ve lost their muse,” Jaskier finally says, and Geralt stops to look at him.

Jaskier’s clothes hang off of him, and their once vibrant color seems muted. In fact, Geralt thinks he recognizes that shirt, and it’s certainly not like Jaskier to wear the same clothes season after season.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt says again. He’s not sure how to say anything else.

Jaskier puts one of his hands over Geralt’s, and Geralt shakes his head. “Jask, you deserve someone who’ll treat you like you deserve.”

Jaskier straightens up and arches an eyebrow. “You’re not up for the challenge?”

“Witchers, we can’t—”

“Bullshit,” Jaskier interrupts.

“What?”

“Bullshit. Whatever you were about to say, that you can’t feel, or whatever. Bull. Shit.”

Geralt’s taken aback. He clears his throat. “You’re right.”

Jaskier was clearly expecting more resistance, so he deflates a little at Geralt’s words.

“I missed you,” Geralt says.

“Like a sore thumb, I’m sure.”

Geralt huffs. “No, I really missed you.”

Jaskier looks at his hands, picking at a hangnail. “I missed you, too.”

Geralt’s not quite sure why, or what exactly there was to miss, but he won’t ask any questions and risk Jaskier changing his mind.

“I wrote you a song,” Jaskier blurts. “Before. All of this. But. I still mean it.”

Geralt’s heart breaks. “Will I have heard it anywhere?”

Jaskier clears his throat. “No, no. It was just for you. I haven’t played it for an audience.”

Geralt hums. “Well, I can’t imagine I won’t like it.”

“You haven’t even heard it yet, Geralt. Whatever happened to a fillingless pie?”

“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry,” he says again.

He’ll say it however many times Jaskier needs to hear it. A flush rises to Jaskier’s cheeks. He takes a page from Geralt’s book. “Hmm.”

“If it comes from you, I’m going to like it. Even if it’s terrible.”

Jaskier shakes his head. “That makes no sense.”

“It’s a gift,” Geralt says. “What’s not to like?”

Jaskier huffs and shakes his head in exasperation. Geralt is no clearer now than he was before.

He pulls out his lute and tunes it, even though it was perfectly tuned just two nights ago before he performed. He can feel Geralt’s eyes on him, and he resolutely ignores them. Finally, he begins to play and sing along. He hasn’t let himself play this particular song in months. Everytime he tried, it was like ripping off a scab and pouring white gull on the wound.

Which, yes, he got to experience once when Geralt was convinced a nasty gash on his leg was infected. Jaskier maintains Geralt was just being an over concerned brooding hen, but he can’t say the attention wasn’t nice.

His voice is a little rusty from the disuse, but it quickly flakes off with the way Geralt is looking at him. It’s a measured look, one Jaskier’s not used to. Attention is fleeting when he performs, with people flitting back to talk to their companions, or eat their meal, but Geralt hasn’t taken his eyes off of him.

Jaskier stumbles over the next line, cursing himself, but he quickly recovers and goes on to finish the song.

When he’s done, he chances a glance back at Geralt. He licks his lips, finding them suddenly terribly dry. “Three words or less?”

Geralt gives him an impossibly soft look. “I loved it.”

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #eskel #fanfiction #contemplative writing

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kpop---scenarios · 4 years

Text

Into The Night

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You never expected to fall for the escort your friend ordered for you.

"It's a very reputable place." Jisoo smiles at you. "Very discreet. I think it would be a good place for you to go." She finishes.

You stare at her with your mouth wide open as you try to comprehend what she had just said to you.

"Bitch." You scoff. "Are you trying to tell me to go to a whore house to get laid?" You ask.

"I mean, you're not the first person to do it. It's not a big deal." She says, shrugging her shoulders. "The guys are hot." She smirks, wiggling her eyebrows.

You can't help but think about it for a minute. You really did need a good fuck, your vibrator can only do so much. "Fine." You say, crossing your arms. "But your ass is coming with me." You smirk, watching her face drop at what you had just said.

"But.. I.. " she stutters.

"No excuses, I fuck a sex worker, you fuck a sex worker. That's the deal." You laugh. You knew she would never do something like that, meaning you'd be off the hook.

"Fine." She says. "Lets go. Now." She says, ushering you towards the door. "Now or never."

"How about never?" You nervously giggle.

"Or now works too. Let's go bitch." She finishes, dragging you out the front door of your apartment to a cafe down the street, to get the process started.

Little did you know this was going to be the best, but also worst experience of your life.

Kai smiles as he says goodbye to his latest client, leaving her to relish in the orgasms he had given her, making her scream out his name. He knew he was good at what he did, that's all he was ever told he was good at, so why not make a career out of it.

Women had always told him he was a great fuck, he had a handsome face but that would only take him so far. The words they told him always stuck with him, replaying over and over in his head.

"You're a great fuck but thats it."

"I could never date you. You're not good enough for me."

It was always the same, with every woman that he met. They were always only interested in him because of his face, or his body. They never cared to get to know him or his likes and dislikes, only how many times could they cum because of him.

Eventually he said fuck it and gave up on trying to pursue a relationship with women. He began working for an escort company, where he quickly climbed the ladder, becoming the most popular male escort. He made great money, but lived a lonely life despite being with different women. It wasn't the sex that was important to him, it was the connection, the love two people shared. That's what he craved, but he knew he wasn't enough.

Kai's mind wanders back to just after he graduated from high-school. He had a date with a girl he had loved for the last four years and had tried time and time again to muster up the courage to ask her on a date.

"J-jennie, would you like to have dinner with me?" He asks, his fingers twiddling between each other.

She smiled at him, but it wasn't genuine, more pitty.

"Um sure." She half smiles. "I'll meet you at the restaurant." She says, walking away to her friends. Kai thought his heart was going to explode out from his chest.

He was so happy.

He wasn't your typical guy, he was shy. He was very quiet and often gave off the vibe of being an asshole, but in all honesty, you just needed to get to know him first but no one ever gave him that chance.

His date with Jennie went well, the conversation lagged a few times but it had ended with him railing her in the back of his car.

His muscles flex, the sweat glistening as he props himself up while he thrusts in and out of her, making her scream.

It was the best night of his life and he thought about her everyday, until he saw her making out with some guy at a party a few days later. All eyes had been on him when he walked into the party, his arrival commencing the whispering between people and the staring.

"W-what? I thought.. we.." he stutters, lost for words.

She laughed. And laughed. "Look." She giggles. "You give top notch dick, but you're an asshole. You're not boyfriend material." She spits.

Kai hangs his head low as he walks out of the party, heartbroken for the first time but not the last.

He didn't let that one instance ruin his views on relationships and women, no, that came after the same thing happened in college. He had met Mina and she was so beautiful, smart and interesting. He was smitten with her, and when she agreed to go on a date with him, he was over the moon excited.

"Would you like to get a coffee with me?" He whispers to her, only looking her in the eye once.

"Sure. Sounds great." She smiles.

He told himself he wouldn't sleep with her on the first date. Coffee seems innocent enough, but alas, it ended with him ramming into her from behind in an alleyway behind the coffee shop.

"I had a great time." She smiles, as she adjusts her skirt. "See ya." She finishes, walking away, leaving him standing there slightly confused.

Kai saw her often, mostly in the middle of the night when she called him and asked him to come fuck her. Whenever he asked to walk her to class or meet up for dinner, she was always busy or unavailable. And if they ever did meet up at her apartment during the day, she always had an excuse as to why he couldn't stay.

"That was great." She sighs, rolling over onto her back. Kai rolls over, wrapping his arm around her waist, only laying there for a second before she wiggles out-of his embrace and stands at the edge of the bed.

"What?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I've got a lot to do. You gotta go." She says, getting dressed and rushing him out of her apartment.

He wanders around downtown for a bit, trying to think of why she kicked him out so quickly, why she never wants to spend time with him. He's lost in his thoughts until he sees Mina, just down the street walking with her friend.

With a smile on his face he walks up to her to greet her.

"Hey you." He smiles.

She doesn't smile back. Instead, she scoffs, her friend giving him a weird, uncomfortable look.

"Um." Mina starts, but Kai gets the point.

"Gotcha." He mumbles, turning around to walk away and that's when he hears her.

"Who is that?" Her friend asks, laughing.

"The most amazing dick I've ever had." Mina raves. "But like that's all he's good for." She laughs. "He's so awkward. Could you imagine keeping that as your boyfriend? Talk about being embarrassed all the time." Mina laughs. "And he's studying accounting. How lame. He'd make better money fucking women for a living." She finishes.

A tear rolls down Kai's cheek as he now vows to himself to never try for a relationship again. Women wanted some good, dominating cock? Then that's what he would give them, that's all that he would give them.

"Make sure he has brown hair." Jisoo laughs. The two of you sit in a cafe, on your phones choosing an escort for each other. You picked one for her, someone who seemed to fit her type just right, a man named Baekhyun.

You were nervous about who she chose for you, but you trusted her, mostly. You knew she wouldn't screw you over.

"Okay done. Meet him in an hour at the Into The Night hotel." She laughs.

"Seriously? Fuck." You laugh nervously.

Forty five minutes later you're standing outside the hotel, taking a deep breath. You're the one who needs to get the hotel room and he will knock on the door. You know, this is fine, its simple, its just a fuck. With a stranger. It's fine.

"A room with a king size bed." You whisper to the front desk clerk who looks at you weirdly as you sweat slightly.

"Room 5372. Here's your key. Enjoy your stay.. with no bags." He says.

"Someone will be coming to ask for my room number. Make sure you tell him." You say, clearing your throat.

"Of course." He says, looking back to his computer.

You sit on the edge of the bed, your fingers twiddling as you wait for the much anticipated knock on the door. And when it came, your heart jumped from your chest.

Your palms were sweaty as you gripped the door knob, taking a few very deep breaths before you pulled the door open revealing an extremely handsome man. His hair was messy and dark, his shirt unbuttoned just enough for you to see his chest, the muscles in his arms protruding from his long sleeve shirt.

You go back and sit on the bed, watching him walk in, the bulge in his pants very noticeable. Your breath hitches as your eyes stare at it, unable to look away from it.

"Hi." He says, his voice deep and rugged. "I'm Kai." He smiles.

"Um hi, I'm.. um.. Ayn." You stutter.

"Ayn." He says, a smirk on his face. "How would you like me, Ayn?" He asks.

"What's your last name?" You ask, your nerves have now fully taken over. "Mines YLN."

"Kim." He says, cocking his head to the side.

"Nice, nice. Are you hungry? I'm starving. I'm going to order room service." You say, jolting yourself up and heading to the phone.

"Wait you're serious?" He asks.

"Very. I never joke about food." You say.

"Uh. A burger?" He says, slightly confused about what was currently happening. But he hadn't had dinner and was kind of hungry, so why not?

"Hi, i'd like two cheeseburgers with fries and two cokes." You accidently yell into the phone. "Sorry." You whisper, hanging up. "Like twenty minutes you tell him, slowly walking back towards the bed.

He nods his head.

"So.. good times?" You ask, referring to the name of the hotel, a small smile on your face.

"Yeah, I mean, it's meant for good times, so why not. I thought it was clever when I named it." He smiles.

"You named it? Do you own the company?" You ask, genuinely shocked.

"I do." Kai laughs. "I founded Knight Industries a few years ago and built it up." He says, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

"Umm." You say nervously, thinking of how else you could stall. Honestly, you wanted to see what was under his shirt but you knew where it was going to lead you weren't sure about the stranger thing.

Knock

"Room service." A voice chimes from outside your door.

"I better.. get that." You half smile, quickly walking to the door. You open it and a cart is pushed into your room. The man looks confused when he sees Kai standing there, both of you fully clothed.

"Uh, enjoy." He says, walking out but not before giving Kai a questioning look.

Over the next hour you and Kai talk about one thing, well you talk about one thing and that thing is food. You went on and on while Kai actually sat there and smiled at you as you described to him your favorite dish to make at home.

"It's so easy to make but tastes amazing. You have to taste it to believe it." You laugh.

You also talked about what your dream vacation would be.

"And that's why my absolute dream vacation would be a good tour of Europe. You would get everything." You groan, just thinking about the food made you want to drool everywhere."

"You can't forget the wine though." Kai laughs.

"No never, can never forget that." You smile.

Beep

Beep.

Your phone alarm beeps, telling you your two hours is up. You give Kai a smile before gathering your belongings.

"Thanks for this. I had a great time." You smile before leaving the room, leaving him there to respond to no one.

"Thank you." He whispers.

Kai tries to make sense of what just happened over the last two hours he had spent with you. When he talked you actually listened, you genuinely seemed interested in what he was saying and enjoyed talking to him. Something he had never had, no one ever wanted him, just his cock.

"Wow." Jisoo says, a tired smile plastered on her face, her hair a mess as she limps towards you outside the hotel. "You don't look like you just got fucked." She pouts.

"But you do." You respond. "I didn't. We talked. And it was really nice." You say, shyly.

"It wasn't a date Ayn. You were supposed to get laid!" She yells, a little too loudly.

"Next time. I will. Promise." You say.

"You're going to have a next time?" She asks, surprised.

"Would that be weird to request him again?" You ask.

Before she could answer a very handsome man ran out of the hotel, yelling her name.

"Jisoo! You forgot this." He smiles at her, his hair disheveled. He slyly hands her a pair of panties, giving her a wink before running back into the hotel.

"That's Baekhyun." She breathes. "I think I love him." She finishes. The two of you laugh before linking arms and walking back to your apartment, completely missing the man you'd spent time with watching you walk away from him.

That night you laid in your bed, staring at the request on your phone to meet up with him again. You wanted to see him again, whether you did anything or just talked but did he want to see you was the question.

You left it alone for the next week, thinking and debating about it everyday. You had the request filled out, but for whatever reason you couldn't bring yourself to press send.

You felt stupid. You probably weren't even his type, this is what he did for a living, of course he was nice to you, you paid for it. However, he was supposed to fuck you, not spend two hours eating and talking with you.

After a week you finally pressed that send button, and you confirmed your meeting for tomorrow, making sure to add to meet at a park at sunset. You wondered if he would actually show up.

The next night you sat on the park bench, your bag with a surprise beside you, as you waited for him to show up. The littlest part of you felt like he wasn't going to show up. So when I looked over and saw him walking towards you, your heart skipped a beat.

He sat down next to you, a smile on his face as he looked at you. "Hi." He says.

"Hi." You reply, your nerves coming back.

"We never got around to your favorite food last time." You say, waiting for him to begin talking.

"Fried chicken." He laughs. "My mom used to make it when I was little, and it's just kind of stuck now." He says, his hands placed on his lap. "She got the recipe when she was in America for a bit."

"Have you traveled much?" You ask.

He looked at you like you were crazy when you asked him that, but you really and truly wanted to know more about him.

"Japan a few times, China and America once, but that was years ago. I've always wanted to go back." He tells you. "Have you been anywhere?" He asks.

"No I've never traveled anywhere. I've always wanted to though." You smile.

"I think you'd like Japan. Amazing food." He laughs.

"Anywhere that has good food has my vote." You smile. "Speaking of food, I brought this for you." You say, pulling out the container of food you made for him. "I really wanted you to try it." You laugh.

"I-.. wow." He says, looking shocked. Your eyes meet as he remains speechless at your kind gesture.

Before you knew what was happening, Kai had leaned over and pressed his plump lips to yours, wrapping his hand around the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

When he pulls away you smile, standing up, your face covered in blush. "We'll have to meet up again so I can refill the container." You smile, walking away, hoping he uses the number you left on the top of the lid.

3 days. It took him 3 days to text you. After the second day you had completely given up hope on him messaging you, but that was typical of your fashion, never giving enough time to anyone.

You had woken up early in the morning for work and saw a text from a number you didn't recognize, thanking you for the food and how delicious it was.

You texted all day after that, about everything. He asked you on a date for that weekend, 8pm on Saturday. You told him you'd love too, and when Saturday rolled around you were terrified.

Your doorbell rang right at 8pm, and your heart fluttered as you walked towards the door, your heel clicking on the floor. You glanced at yourself in the mirror one more time, satisfied enough with how your makeup and hair turned out, you smoothed down your tight dress before answering the door.

"Hi." Kai smiles, looking you up and down. "You look amazing."

"Thank you." You whisper, looking at him in his suit, his hair slicked back. He looked so good. You almost said fuck it and dragged him into your apartment, but you have a little self control, for now.

On the drive to the restaurant you couldn't keep your eyes off him. The way he slouched in his seat, his legs spread with one hand on the steering wheel, the other one placed on your thigh. You could feel your pussy throbbing as you pressed your legs together, trying to keep yourself together.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his eyebrow raised, glancing over to you.

"Yep, all good." You say.

You knew he didn't buy it. His cologne, how his skin glowed under the moonlight, his plump lips, it was all getting to you and fast.

At the restaurant you sat across from him, throwing back your third glass of wine as Kai watched you in amusement. "Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, his chin resting on his hands.

"Mhmm." You say, gaining a little bit of confidence. You raise your leg under the table, gently caressing his leg with your foot, up and down a few times before you slide off your shoe and work your way up to his thigh.

Your eyes locked as you moved your foot, you could see his face change, his eyes become darker.

Every Time you rubbed his leg, you could feel your lips sliding together, reminding you of just how wet you truly were.

"I'm so wet." You whisper, sticking your hand under the table, sliding it over your pussy before popping it in your mouth to suck off your juice.

Kai's eyes went black. Right before he could say anything, the waiter came, placing your food in front of the both of you.

"Anything else I can get for you?" He asks, Kai looks at you, you bite your lip, looking slightly needy.

"Yeah, can we get this to go please." Kai says, his eyes never leaving yours. A smile spreads across your face as the waiter looks confused but takes your plates away anyways.

A few minutes later he returns with your food and your bill. Kai pays quickly before placing his hand on the small of your back to guide you out.

"Are you sure?" He asks, sliding into the driver's seat, starting the car.

"I want you to fuck me." You moan. Kai groans as he races down the street. "Now." You whisper.

He turns down an alley, parking in the dark between two buildings, making sure you were out of camera view.

"Out." He growls.

You open the door, step outside and walk to the front of the car. You watch as Kai walks around to the front of the car, unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops. His hand rests on your cheek as he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. He backs you up, leaning you against the car and laying you down on the hood of the car.

He breaks the kiss and stands up. "Hands." He demands.

You give him your hands, he puts them together and wraps his belt around them tightly. "Put them above your head." He demands. You do as you're told, your pussy dripping as you wait for what he plans to do next.

He brings his hand up to your neck, dragging his finger down your collarbone, past your breasts, down your stomach, stopping halfway down your thighs at the hem of your dress.

"Spread your legs." He says, his voice deep and demanding. You do your best to spread your legs, causing your dress to ride up, exposing your red lace panties.

Kai lifts your dress more, looking at your panties and smirking. He grabs onto them, moving them to the side, giving him a great view of your lips.

"Oh my god." You cry, your pussy needing to be touched.

"Quiet baby girl." He moans as he leans his body on yours. His one hand reaches in-between your thighs, moving between your lips before his thumb grazes over your throbbing clit while he inserts two fingers inside you, slowly. His body rests on yours as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, his other hand covering your mouth to muffle the sound of your moans.

Kai whispers in your ear as you mumble your muffled cries. "That's a good girl."

As he continues to pump his fingers into you, he moves his thumb in a circle on your clit, making your arch your back. You try to cry out, but his hand catches most of the whimpers as he removes his fingers from inside you, and focuses just on rubbing your clit.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you try to squeeze your legs together, your orgasm threatening to burst.

"Cum." He growls, sending you right over the edge, your body shaking as you ride through your high.

Kai removes his hand from your mouth while staring at you before licking his fingers with a smirk on his face. You slide down the car onto your knees, lifting up your hands so he can untie you.

You're a bit shaky as you pull down his pants and boxers, letting his cock spring free.

Your mouth waters as you stare at the thick, juicy, veiny cock standing straight in front of you. You wrap your hand around the shaft, pumping it a few times before Kai grabs the back of your head, forcing his cock into your mouth, making you choke.

"Mhmm." He moans. "Choke on that cock."

He lets you come up for air, just for a second before he shoves his cock back in your mouth and down your throat. Your eyes water as he thrusts in and out a few times before fully pulling out and standing you up. He pushes you down on your stomach against the hood of the car, making you spread your legs with his foot.

"Ready?" He asks, but doesn't wait for an answer. Instead he grips onto your hips and slams his cock inside of you, stretching you out and giving you no time to adjust to his size. "Such a tight pussy." He groans, his hands holding onto you tighter as your hands are laid out above your head, red marks from the belt very visible but you didn't care.

Kai never slowed his pace, he fucked you hard and he fucked you good.

"Shit shit." You cry out as he hits your g spot with every thrust. "P..please don't stop." You cry. You can hear him grunting behind you, making you clench yourself around his cock.

"Don't stop that." He groans, his fingertip digging into your hips. "Shit." He moans. "I'm gonna..cum." he finishes, pulling out to cum on your ass. "Fuck." He sighs, as he pumps himself a few more times, making sure he rides his high for as long as he can.

"That was.." he begins.

"Great." You finish, pulling down your dress. You smile at him as he zips up his pants. "Will you come home with me?" You ask, a little nervous he might say no.

"I'd love too." He smiles, opening the car door for you. You slide in, and he closes it before running to the drivers side and backing out of the alley way. His arm rests on your thigh for the entire drive back to your apartment, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

The next morning you wake up to feel a hand wrapped around your stomach with a face buried into your neck. You smile as you remember he came home with you last night, and you smile even harder as you feel his large friend poking you in the ass.

With a smirk on your face you wiggle your ass against his boner, making his groan. "Tease." He mumbles as he nuzzles his face further to your neck.

"You can always just slip it in. Cum in my pussy." You whisper, making him raise his head. He reaches down, lifting your leg to go over his, opening you up slightly before he pulls down his boxers, letting his friend free. You arch your back as he guides himself inside of you, slowly thrusting in and out. He hand reaches up and under your shirt, cupping your breast before twiddling your nipples as he pumps his hips.

"Fuck." You moan as his hand leaves your breasts and moves up to wrap around your throat. His large hands squeeze your neck as he thrusts into you harshly.

"Rub your clit." He says, demanding you to do so. You reach between your legs and begin playing with the throbbing bud, rubbing it in circles, your pussy tightening around his cock.

"Good girl." He breathes into your ear, his head tightening again around your neck.

"I'm.. gonna.." you cry.

"Cum." He demands, breathing the word heavily into your ear. Shivers send down your spine as you orgasm takes over, making you cry out, loudly.

Kai grunts a few times before spilling his juices inside of you. "Fuck." He sighs, milking himself for everything.

He pulls himself out of you and rolls out of bed, pulling his pants on.

"What are you doing?" You ask, confused.

"I thought you were going to ask me to leave." He says, shrugging his shoulders.

"Actually." You pause. "I was going to see if you wanted to come to the store with me. I was going to make you some food." You say, sitting up in your bed. "But if you want to go.." you pause.

"I don't want to go..it's just i'm always asked to leave after." He says. "No one asks me to stay."

"I'm asking you to stay. Spend the day with me?" You ask.

The smile on his face could light up an entire city, the two of you so happy in that moment, but little did you know, things wouldn't be so happy in the future.

Things with you and Kai were great for the first couple of months until the two of you had gotten more serious than either of you had expected in such a short amount of time.

It had only been nine months but you knew with everything you had in your soul that you loved this man more than anything. And you knew he loved you back, but you just couldn't get past his work.

You knew he didn't love the women he was with, you knew it was only a job but you hated it. You hated that while you thought about him, his dick was inside someone else, making someone else cum, making another woman feel good. And that was the cause of your fights, 99% of the time.

"Here we go again." Kai sighs, as he grabs a drink from the kitchen. "It's always the same thing." He yells.

"Yes it is! Why can't you just stop. Stop fucking other women." You yell.

"It's my job! I founded the company. I built it up from nothing. I can't just walk away from that Ayn. You're asking me to give up alot." He says.

You take a deep breath. "You know you are so much more than your dick right? You're so special, the way you make people feel is indescribable. But if you only listen to the voices in your head from your past, they will always win. And if you keep doing that, then I won't ever be enough for you. So, when you decide that you’re more than just a sex object, you call me, because you are more than that business. And your business may be booming but baby, you’re dying, I can see that and I hate that you can't. I am trying to fight for more than just us. I'm trying to fight for our future. Either you want or you don't. So let me know."

With slow steps you walk away, hoping he stops you.

You close the door hoping he stops you.

You walk all the way to your car.

You waited for him to stop you.

But he never came.

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