#/ but fuck the muse is boiling inside

[benevolentbones]

jealous much? | spencer reid x reader

warnings: !! violent behaviour towards someone, bar fight, alcohol consumption and attempted drink spiking, swearing !! 15+ gender neutral reader

word count: 1.5k

summary: the team goes out to bar, and you bring a date with you..

to say spencer was mad was an understatement. his blood was practically boiling. his jaw tightened as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. his sights were set dead ahead, on your form.

after a long case the team had decided the best way to celebrate would be going out to the bar for a few drinks, garcia’s suggestion of course.

this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, the team would often go out together whether it was for dinner or just drinks, but what shocked everyone was when you showed up with a date.

“this is simon, hope you don’t mind that i brought him along” you had mused, when you had arrived to meet the team at the local bar they frequented.

the taller man was probably ten years older than you, his hair was blond and slicked back, and he had an arm slinked around your waist.

the team stood around the bar, some sets of eyes flickering from you to spencer, who stood glaring at the man beside you.

it wasn’t much of a secret that spencer reid had feelings for you, he’s had a thing for you ever since you joined the team over a year ago, and as profilers it wasn’t hard for the rest of the team to pick up on his crush.

what shocked everyone was the fact that they thought you also had feelings for spencer.

“yeah- no problem, im emily nice to meet you.” the dark haired woman smiled.

“i need a drink.” spencer muttered under his breath, turning to the bartender before he said something rude.

and that brings us to right now.

the team had been in the bar for an hour or so, a few rounds of shots had been given out and the majority of the team were on the dance floor. all aside from spencer and derek.

spencer could not take his eyes off of you for the life of him, and he felt physically sick at the sight.

emily, jj and penelope were dancing along side you as they usually did, and then there was your date, simon, who was glued to your form.

spencer hated the sight, every movement and touch threatened to spill up the four beers he had downed in the hour he was there.

“you good man?” derek leant against the bar, his voice laced with concern.

spencer took another swig of his beer, breaking his eye contact on you to look morgan in the face.

“i don’t know what they see in him, he’s fucking pathetic.” he mumbled out before turning back his attention on you.

the music blared over the speakers, the dance floor was covered in a crowd of people as you swayed your hips to the music, arms raised above your head. your date, in close proximity eyeing you up.

“jealous much?” morgan sipped at his glass of whiskey.

“what do you mean.” spencer’s body stiffened, he turned on his bar stool to face derek.

“man, it’s obvious you like them. why don’t you just say something.”

“i can’t just- they don’t like me like that.” spencer was growing increasingly frustrated.

“mm that’s not what they told me..” derek trailed off, downing the rest of his drink and heading off to the dance floor before spencer could get another word in.

this left the genius in a state of confusion, what had you said to derek? spencer turned back to his original position to people watch, scanning the crowd for you. but you were nowhere to be found.

“one coke please.” you shouted over the music to the bartender, now stood right next to spencer. and of course, simon was at your side.

“you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself, spence.” you turned to him.

your hair was unruly, unlike how you usually kept it. there was a small sheen of sweat covering your skin, from your forty five minutes of straight dancing, the flickering lights causing it to glow.

“i’m just tired, that’s all y/n.” he mumbled back, barely audible over justin timblerlakes ‘sexy back’ that had begun playing.

you frowned slightly, your brows creasing as the bartender handed you your drink. you took a small sip, setting it down on the bar counter.

“well i hope you feel better soon.” you gave spencer’s bicep a reassuring squeeze. i’d feel better if you left with me he thought

then you turned to simon, who was standing slightly agitated at your lack of attention.

“would you watch my drink? i’m just going to go to the bathroom.” you smiled as he nodded, running off in the direction of the toilets.

spencer avoided eye contact, staring back into the dance floor to see garcia practically grinding against morgan. what a sight.

from the corner of his vision, spencer could see simon shuffle awkwardly, before dumping a powdery substance into your drink, stirring it with your straw.

immediately he saw red, leaping out of his seat.

“what the fuck did you just do?” he yelled, his voice an octave lower than usual.

simon fidgeted, a shocked expression on his average features, not expecting the sudden outburst.

“n-nothing man- i think you’ve had too much to drink.” he tried to play it off with a nervous chuckle but spencer was having none of it.

he whipped his arm around, picking up your glass of coke in one swooping motion and smashing it against the older males head.

the glass completely shattered, shards of glass and coke spilling all over the floor and the blond man who had now fallen to the floor.

this caught people’s attention, a group of girls to the right of spencer letting out a frightened scream.

“what the fuck?!” simon barked, bringing a hand to the side of his face that was now pouring blood.

spencer had now lunged at simon, grabbing the collar of his shirt with one hand and landing punch after punch to his already bloodied face.

the commotion had caught the rest of the team’s attention, derek had run over and practically yanked the younger man off of simon, who’s face was now bloodied and swollen.

“what the fuck reid?” derek shouted, earning a glare from spencer.

“he fucking tried to spike y/n.”

you had come back from the bathroom, not expecting the sight in front of you. you gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, you eyes darting to spencer.

the brunette pulled away from derek’s hold, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his long hair hung over his face as he used a bloodied hand to push it away. his hard gaze met with yours, his hazel eyes immediately softening.

“get the fuck out.” the bartender yelled out, alerting the bouncers.

derek locked eyes with you, giving you a knowing look and you nodded. you grabbed spencer and ushered him out of the bar leaving derek to clean up the mess that was your date on the ground.

once you left the bar, the cold air hit you like a truck causing a shiver to escape your lips. spencer sat against the curb, resting his hands on his knees, avoiding your gaze.

“spence, what was that?” you questioned, a slight wobble to your voice.

“he’s a piece of shit, y/n.” he mumbled out, anger laced in his tone, his eyes locked on the ground.

you let out a frustrated sigh, noticing spencer’s busted knuckles, blood dripping from his hands. you knelt down in front of him, causing his eyes to dart up and meet yours.

“please, spence.” you reached out to cup his cheek.

“i couldn’t stand to see him with you, holding you- and on top of it all- he tried to spike you- i just couldn’t-“ he breathed out, inhaling through his nose as his face settled into your hand.

you felt both sick and relieved at the same time. you didn’t even like simon, he wasn’t who you wanted at all.

“oh spencer..”

“i couldn’t let him- i just snapped. i’m sorry.” he mumbled out, trying to avert his eyes.

“thank you.” you began, catching him off guard. “for doing all that, for me.”

“i- of course i would, i’d do anything for you.” his eyes flickered over your features, over your soft lips, back to your doe eyes.

you didn’t hesitate to press your lips against his, almost knocking him over. he immediately kissed back, wrapping his bloodied hands around your waist trying his best not to stain your shirt.

you ran your hands through his dark locks, feeling the heat from his cheeks against yours, curling your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck.

you pulled away, a breathy gasp leaving your lips, pressing your forehead against his. he breathed out, resting his hands on your hips.

“y/n…” he spoke softly, swallowing hard.

“let me take you home, let’s clean up your hands okay?” you suggested, he nodded against your forehead before you pulled away, standing back on your feet.

you helped him up, wrapping your arm around his to avoid hurting his hands further.

“i really wanted that coke.” you pouted as you walked the taller man to your car, a chuckle escaping his lips and you shuffled side by side.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT • MINORS DNI • older!daddy!dom!Steve Harrington x bratty!fem!reader • Includes daddy kink, teasing, jealousy/possessiveness, implied age gap (reader 20’s or 30’s, Steve 40’s or 50’s) rough sex, talking back, spanking, oral, and fluff ♥️

All semblance of calm left Steve’s eyes the moment he saw what you were wearing. Normally, he enjoyed the little ‘show,’ you put on for him before leaving for a night out with your girlfriends. But not this time.

You pranced down the stairs in quite possibly the shortest mini skirt Steve had ever seen. In fact, he wasn’t sure the strip of material could even be called a skirt at all. The way it hugged your body, accentuating the curve of your hips and tummy, made Steve’s cock twitch despite his surprise. You were gorgeous. And not to mention, the blouse you were wearing: soft, thin fabric that barely concealed your bra-less breasts beneath it, nipples poking prominently through the sheer material.

Steve could feel the jealousy boiling in his stomach; he didn’t want any other man or woman in Hawkins to see what belonged to him, what only HE was privileged enough to see. He could be a bit domineering at times, and perhaps that was an understatement. But you loved pressing Steve’s buttons, testing his jealousy. Sometimes, you’d openly flirt with other men in front of Steve, because you knew the ‘punishment,’ for your behavior would be fucking WORTH IT.

Steve’s jaw was tight as he watched you descend the stairs. You caught the look immediately, and a little thrill shivered inside you. This is exactly the response you’d hoped to inspire. So you decided to go all-in with your teasing little game.

“Do you like my outfit, Daddy?” you asked, blinking up at him innocently. Steve pressed his lips together a moment before speaking, as if choosing his words carefully. “You dressed yet?” he asked, and you giggled.

“Of course I’m dressed, silly!” you replied, resting your hands lightly on his chest. “Your eyes must be playing tricks on you, old man.”

It was said with levity, in a playful tone, but Steve was not amused. You often teased him about his age when you wanted him to fuck you stupid, like now, and show you exactly what a man his age could DO…

Steve grit his teeth behind his lips. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Well, if you were dressed, would it be this easy for me to grab a handful of your ass?”

You winced as Steve’s palm slid in an instant beneath your skirt and squeezed one side of your ass, hard. The thrill inside you grew, going straight to your core.

“Well you do have big hands, Daddy,” you mused, sinking yourself against Steve’s warm palm.

“Mmm-hmm,” Steve agreed. “And you know what Daddy can do with his hands, don’t you Princess?”

He abruptly pulled his hand away and spanked the cheek of your ass he’d been gripping. A little gasp of surprise and excitement left your lips, and you smiled in spite of the act you were pulling. Steve was NOT smiling, however. He was pissed.

“Give me one good reason why I should let you go out tonight half naked,” he said, his voice low. You shook your head, feigning ignorance. “I don’t understand,” you responded. “I’m wearing a skirt and a blouse. That hardly makes me naked-.”

Another swat on your ass silenced you.

“Don’t talk back to me, (y/n),” Steve warned. The darkness in his tone sent your heart fluttering, warmth pooling between your legs. Both of Steve’s hands were on your ass now, massaging you, kneading roughly.

“You think I’d let you show everyone in this town what’s mine, and only mine?” he asked, pulling you a little closer. “Think I’d let you trot this pussy all over Hawkins like it’s nothing? Like it doesn’t belong to me…?”

You shivered as Steve’s hand slid between your thighs, cupping your pussy in his large, warm palm. Steve’s lip curved in a grin at your response, at feeling how soaking wet you were.

“Aww,” he cooed, massaging your slick between the folds of your pussy, purposefully neglecting your clit. “Looks like somebody’s misbehaving on purpose…”

Your eyes lolled back as Steve pressed two fingers inside you easily, considering how wet you were already. You moaned at the thickness of his touch inside you, the way he instantly found your g-spot and curved his fingers around it. “Oh baby,” Steve purred against your ear as you sank your forehead into his chest. “That’s right, thats my girl…”

You buried your nose against the coarse hair of Steve’s chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, letting his warmth consume you. “Such a good girl…such a good girl for Daddy…” Steve‘s voice was like syrup, sweet and soothing as he gently stroked inside your pussy. “Gave in so easily…” You frowned, momentarily caught off guard. “Didn’t give her Daddy any trouble at all,” Steve murmured sweetly. “Just a couple of fingers up her cunt, and she forgets how to be a brat…”

You lifted your head from Steve’s chest, meeting his eyes. He was smirking at you, fingers buried to his knuckles in your cunt. He clearly thought he’d won, that he’d broken you. But it wasn’t a gentle fuck you were after; you wanted to be punished. A soft fingering wasn’t going to be enough; and you realized that unless you showed Steve that you were still VERY much a brat, he wasn’t going to be convinced…

So with all the strength you could muster, considering how fucking amazing Steve’s fingers felt up your cunt, you looked up at him and said with a straight face, “I have somewhere to be, Daddy.” You pushed Steve’s arm out from between your legs, lifting off his fingers with a wet squelch. “You’ll just have to play with my pussy later…”

Steve’s lips curved into a circle of surprise; he had NOT been anticipating this from you. But his demeanor shifted quickly to something much darker, his eyes staring you down intensely. “Later?” he muttered, his voice like ice. “You’re gonna make me wait, Princess?”

Your heart raced once again as you nodded, happy to see this darker Steve returning.

“The hell I will,” Steve growled. His hand found your hair, fingers clutching it just tightly enough not to hurt. You tried not to smile, but it was difficult to hide it. THIS was the Steve you’d been trying to provoke.

He led you by your hair to the nearby sofa, pushing you down so your ass was facing him. Another hard swat of his palm against it had you wincing, grinning freely into the couch cushions where Steve couldn’t see. “Fucking brat,” Steve murmured over your back, moving to straddle you. “Full of surprises tonight, aren’t you Princess?”

Steve pulled the skirt up over your ass and spanked you again, leaving a mark this time which he quickly soothed with his palm. You didn’t mind Steve roughing you up, but he was worried sometimes about going too far and accidentally hurting you. “You good, Princess?” he asked, and you quickly replied “yes, Daddy. But I wish you’d spank me next.”

Steve almost laughed out loud at your audacity, but restrained himself. He didn’t restrain his hand, however, and this time, his smack against your ass brought a tear to your eye. “Fuck yes,” you groaned into the couch cushion, your voice muffled but Steve could still hear it. He was on his knees behind you now, straddling your legs. His fingers slid under the waist of your thong panties and yanked them off of you, unintentionally ripping the elastic in his haste. “Oops,” he muttered under his breath, throwing the strip of fabric aside.

Steve took in the view of your bare ass, your cheeks crimson from his punishment. He pressed a hand to your back, sliding his palm down your spine, his touch lingering at the dip just above your ass. He leaned forward, taking a bit of your skin between his teeth. You flinched, your body tensing at the slight pain. Steve massaged your skin between his teeth, working his way across your ass, his hands on either side, groping.

When he was finished, Steve spread you open, and sank his face between your cheeks. You exhaled as his tongue slid down between your pussy lips and slowly up over your asshole. Steve continued to massage you, kneading your ass like dough in his strong hands. You arched your back, pressing your ass into his face. Steve obliged you, tilting his chin so you were now sitting on his face, the tip of his nose slipping between the lips of your pussy, his tongue lapping at your clit from behind.

Steve ate you like this till you were screaming his name, cum spraying his chin and trickling into his mouth like a small stream. He rutted his face between your lips letting you ride his nose as you came, breathing through his mouth in between swallowing your cum, grateful for every single drop. You were left shaking and crying into the couch, your mind and body completely fucked stupid. Steve had finally broken you, his little brat, and he smiled over your back at his victory, licking his slick lips and taking a moment to savor his win.

He flipped you over by your shoulders and hoisted you up onto the couch, your back against it. The look on your face was priceless: eyes glassy, half-lidded and dumb, your mouth hanging open lazily as you readily accepted whatever else your Daddy wanted to do to you. He knelt against the couch with one knee, eyes fixed on yours as he undid his pants. You were lost in a haze of bliss, taking in the sight of Steve’s drenched face and shirt, the smell of your pussy filling the air between you. He spit on his cock and pumped it a few times in his fist, lining himself up with your entrance.

In one hard thrust, Steve entered you fully, his balls slapping wet against your sopping cunt. He growled low in his chest, your wet heat enveloping and sucking him as he pulled his hips backward. Thrusting into you again, you felt the breath knocked out of your lungs. THIS is the fucking you’d needed Steve to give you, making you come harder than you ever had before and then stuffing you with his cock to do it all again…

He punched your insides like he was actually angry, hands locked around your hips, not letting you escape, even as you bucked and whimpered against his chest. Steve panted into your hair, dusting it off your shoulders as he fucked your ass into the couch. Your body was weak, depleted from the sheer power of the climax you’d just had on Steve’s face. He knew you could do it again, however, could already feel another orgasm building within you as your walls trembled around him.

“Come on, Princess,” he soothed, his forehead pressed to yours as he thrusted deep inside you. “You can do it…come for Daddy, baby…” Steve’s voice was so gentle it made you weak, the scent of your cunt on his breath as he spoke sending you over the edge. Your legs shook around Steve’s waist, your heels kicking into his ass as he pummeled your cunt. The room around you went white as your eyes squeezed shut, the force of your orgasm rocking you even harder than the one before it. Steve’s cock was prodding your deepest space, nearly splitting you in half. It would have been painful, SHOULD have been painful, but your body was too lost in the intensity of your climax to know it.

He moaned your name against your ear, a beautiful desperation and love in his tone. “Come for me, Daddy,” you begged, a hot tear streaming down your cheek. “Come inside this pussy…it belongs to you…”

At that, Steve lost the last bit of restraint he had, growling into your shoulder as he emptied himself against your cervix. You felt his cum filling you, breeding you, marking you once again as his, and only his.

Steve’s chest was wet with sweat and your cum soaked into his shirt. He gently lifted off of you, panting down at you, and smiled. You lifted your face to meet Steve’s, nuzzling the tip of your nose against his, still wet with your slick. “I love you, Daddy,” you breathed, a soft smile spreading your lips.

Steve kissed you, deeply, his cum-soaked tongue folding gently with yours. He pulled back and sleepily blinked down at you, grinning. “Love you too, Princess.”

[writingoddess1125]

Marillenfleck in Winter

König x FemReader

Fluffy Fluff Fluff!

Feed me Seymore Feed me!! <<< 🍖

"We can do this-"

You muttered to yourself and then down at your swollen stomach. Feeling the fluttering kicks of the child locked inside of you- assuming that was them agreeing.

"Hell yeah-"

Stepping forward with all the confidence you could muster as you carefully lowered the breaded pork cutlet into the hot oil and watching it carefully bubble as you let it settle.

Stepping back as the oil reacted for a moment before settling-

Two months ago before your husband left for his mission was lying in bed with you, his hand on your stomach as he reminisced-

'It is moments like this I almost wish to return to my Village just to show you off.. and share in some food with you' He mused, you looking at him in surprise.

'Wait we don't live near your home?' You say surprised, Having always assumed that König had chosen the secluded cabin 40 minutes from the closest village cause he was familiar with it. He chuckled at this and shook his head-

'No, I'm from near Dürnstein-'

Which was on the otherside of the country from were the two of you lived- You silently vowed to bring at least a taste of his home to him-

So for two months you'd been gathering ingredients and experimenting to make some folds from his home-town.

Did you have any real idea what you were doing?- No.

Did you know if these were ment to be eaten together?- Hell No.

Were you trying your best? Absolutely.

Speaking of trying your best- it was dead winter, 7inches of snow a day easy and what doesn't grow in winter?

Apricots-

So many Apricots in most of these recipes from near his home. Apricots cakes, wines, pastries, even in sauces with pork!

So you finding apricots was the most important thing. You tried the internet but didn't trust the quality from most places or they were dried which wouldn't have worked-

That's when you ventured out being forced to touch grass- Well snow in this case.

Market after market, looking in their freezer section to produce you couldnt find shit for the first 2 weeks of this adventure.

You were honestly thankful you were pregnant since when you went to the village closest to you asking for apricots in dead of winter- people assumed it was a desperate cry for a craving and a older women gave you a bag of them from her deep freeze she had saved. You of course paid her handsomely for the kind gift

This thrn started your dark road of trying to figure out these fucking recipes-

You tried every recipe and varient you could, pulling up photos of restaurants near your husband's origin and trying to match them-

Another blessing of being pregnant was being able to eat any failed attempts or trying recipes that wasn't going to be fed to König.

However the time had finally come! König was going to be home within the next hour, having called you the night before from his train station to tell you his arrival and you'd fluttered to make sure everything looked perfect.

"Alexa! Set a timer for 20 minutes!" You called out, flipping the cutlet seeing the even golden crust.

Reaching over you check the goulash stewing in the pot and saw it was almost done. Stirring it once before you checked on the bread dumplings and pulled them from the boiling water- You hadn't made these before in your experimental 2 months so you were excited!

Bacon Bread dumplings- Time to taste!

Taking a big bite you paused- truthfully confused over what the fuck you'd just put into your mouth. Chewing for a while as you tried to figure out if you'd done something wrong or if your taste was more off then you thought due to the baby- after the second bite you knew it was the baby and not the food especially whem you spooned some of the goulash ontop.

"...You know what, I'm just gonna blame you for this-" You said pointing at your stomach which earned another fluttering feeling as you finished the dumpling and stew sample.

Pulling the cutlets you let them sit on a wire rack as you plate the potatos and salad Konig liked- However your eyes landed on the centerpiece of this meal and what you were so focused one. The Marillenfleck Cake.

Still cooling as the beautiful Fluffy pastry showed off its shivered almost and the delicate apricots baked into its Fluffy self.

A summer apricot staple you'd manage to drag into winter!

You suddently heard the sound of the truck pulling up to your home, jumping in excitement you set the finished goulash down on the table and rushed around for the final touches.

Setting the plates down you mentally high-five yourself and rush to the front room as you hear König walk in. Grumbling about the snow outside as he kicked off his boots-

"Welcome Home Honey" You say cheerfully, wadling yourself over to your man- He had his mask off, most likely shoved away in his pockets in desperate need of a wash and he seemed to have showered at base since the black paint wasnt around his eyes-

Soft gray eyes greeted you and König gave a wide smile, reaching out and scooping you quickly in his arms and kissing your lips.

"I have missed you Liebling, You and the baby are well?" He asked softly as his gloved hand touched the swell of your stomach.

"Yes, We are fine. I'm so glad your home" You say cheerfully, feeling your eyes get misty already just by having him home.

"I have a surprise for you" You say cheerfully and jump, making the man chuckle at your physical excitement or attempt since the belly seemed to keep your feet planted.

"Oh?" He chimed amused, peeling off his coat and gloves as you pulled him to the kitchen and waiting set dining table.

When König saw all the food, his heart fluttered. He saw how much time this took, slowly stepping forward as he gazed over your heard work in total shock.

"(Y/N)- You did so much.. You should be resting not slaving in the kitchen" He said softly, looking at you in worry for your effort in the fantastic meal set on the table.

"I wanted to give you a nice surprise, You hungry?" You saw with a smile- Konig chuckling at this as he nodded, pulling out your chair so you could sit first before sitting himself.

Severing plates König couldn't help but laugh at the wide variety you'd made, from pork schnitzel and potato salad and the goulash and dumplings. Eating happily he hummed delight.

"I'm impressed! Very Gud Mein Liebling!" Demolishing the plates infront of him as the two of you sported casual conversation and König feeling your baby bump-

"And for dessert" You say cheerfully as you cut him a slice of the cake and set it before him. His face twisting in confusion.

"Liebling were did you get marillen {apricots} in winter?-" He asked genuinely confused as he cut into the pastry clearly doing a lot of mental math in trying to figure out how you manages this.

"It's a long story, but I got them!" You said cheerfully cutting open your own and taking a massive bite- Giving a laugh at how delicious it tasted and how you'd managed to not fuck anything up.

Raising a brow of this he hesitated ever so slightly before taking a bit of the dessert and paused, his eyes softening as an almost sad smile hit his lips.

"Konig?.." You say softly as he looked to you- His own eyes misty.

"I haven't had this cake since my Mutti made it for me before she passed-" He said softly, taking another bite of the dessert and smiling. Your heart Sinking at his words-

"I was always so scared to try it again since I knew it wouldn't taste the same" He smiled fondly as he reached out and pulled your seat close to him, love in his gaze.

"I don't know how- But youve made it taste just like the one she made" He said softly, wrapping his arm around you as he kissed your hair and you could feel the waves of emotion off of him.

"Danke my love" He said softly, lips still pressed to your hair as he held you tighter. Of course hormones not helping as tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Anytime"

[philistiniphagottini]

I'm back bitch lmao

Tbh I'm feeling either very innocent or very filthy depending on how you'll go about it soooo

63? With any chara u choose

I have spoken 😏

Hello friend :) Just so you know, it was your mistake for giving me the power to choose the character because I know your weaknesses. So I decided to go with Jing Yuan. Thanks for indulging me. Hope you enjoy~

63. thigh fucking (intercrural)

Smut Prompts

NSFW below the cut, MDNI

"Keep your legs pressed together for me" General Jing Yuan commanded, a small purr of your name falling from his rosy lips.

You hummed softly, heat prickling your bare skin and pooling in the pit of your stomach as Jing Yuan manhandled you to his pleasing. He held both your dainty ankles with a firm grip, resting them on his sturdy shoulder as your feet dangled uselessly beside his ear. You whimpered softly as you slipped an arm under the fluffy pillow supporting your head, nails digging into the fabric as he sandwiched his boiling cock between your plush thighs.

Jing Yuan’s hot breath tickled your skin as he moaned, golden eyes smouldering like embers as he watched you squirm with need beneath him. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he slid his cock against your creamy pussy, revelling in the harsh moan that spilled from your kiss swollen lips. Your blood simmered in your veins, heart pounding so loudly in your ears that you could barely hear anything over the incessant pulse. Your breathing wavered as the tip of his cock kissed your aching clit, spreading your arousal along his shaft as he continued to slowly rut against you.

General Jing Yuan didn’t think the sight of his little darling prancing around in thigh high, sheer lace stockings would stir something in him. He had, evidently, been so wrong about the amount of power a simple article of clothing would have over him. The mere sight of the lace hugging your thighs sent his mind into a tizzy. If he had any less self-control, he would have had his way with you at the Seat of Divine Foresight.

A warm chuckle blew past his lips as you mewled his name, rocking your hips against him and desperate for more sparks of friction on your wet pussy, your insides clenching around nothing as a hot coil wound tight in the pit of your stomach. Jing Yuan tilted his head, placing a featherlight kiss on your ankle as his hands sunk into your plush thighs, fingers squeezing generous amounts of skin.

"Eager?" he mused.

His fingers slipped under the lacy band of your thigh high socks, brushing against the sensitive skin and making your pulse race frantically beneath your skin. You nodded, arousal flushing your skin and turning the tips of your ears hot from the obscene, wet noise coming from between your thighs. Jing Yuan hummed with amusement, lazy eyes lidded as he let go of the elastic band of your stockings and let it snap back against your skin with a satisfying noise. You squeaked loudly, hips jolting forward as he repeated his actions. He adored the noises that stirred in your chest and he would never tire from dragging them from your bruised lips. His strong, calloused hands curled around your hips as he pulled you harder against him, the bed creaking from the sudden movement. You moaned sweetly as your core throbbed, causing your legs to tighten and squeeze the general’s thick cock until it felt like his dick was being completely smothered by your thick thighs.

A pleased purr rumbled in his chest. "Good girl. Squeeze me just like that."

Pre-cum dribbled from the tip of his cock and smeared against your hot skin, the small beads only adding to the pearls of slick that stained the insides of your thighs. A pleasant tingle raced down your back as his thumbs parted your silky lips like a delicate flower, forcing you to feel more of the sensual drag of his cock over your velvety folds. Your eyelashes fluttered over your burning cheeks, eyes threatening to slip close as you gripped onto your pillow tighter, head thrown back as stars wavered in your vision.

"General…so good…so close" you moaned between shaky breaths.

Your chest heaved with each laboured breath, tits bouncing with every punctuated jerk of Jing Yuan’s hips. You jolted beneath him with a sharp gasp when his thumb brushed against your pretty clit, giving it much needed attention as he rubbed the bundle of nerves in firm, tight circles. You cried out beneath him as the knot in your stomach tightened, back bending in a beautiful arc as your toes curled into the soles of your feet. You could feel his cock throbbing between your thighs, the thick ridges on the underside of his shaft hitting your soft spots and emptying your head of every single thought until you felt dizzy with bliss. A hand lazily crawled up your chest, cupping one of your trembling breasts and squeezing the soft flesh. You almost bit your tongue when Jing Yuan pinched a rosy tip between his fingers and tugged at the nerve.

"Is my pretty girl going to cum now?" Jing Yuan cooed, thumb pressing down on your clit until the little bud shrieked from the attention.

You nodded, a constellation of tears clinging to your lashes as you writhed under the General’s attention. "Yes" you croaked.

"Then don’t keep me waiting~"

You burst at the seams only a scant few seconds later, unable to hold onto the fraying ends of your sanity as you were intimately ripped apart at the seams. Your hot walls spasmed around nothing, the coil in your stomach shattering as your veins were flooded with white hot relief. You twisted beneath Jing Yuan, moaning his name to the heavens like it was the only word you remembered. A deep growl reverberated in his chest before you felt thick ropes of his seed splatter along your stomach and the insides of your thighs, the tip of his drooling cock pressing hard against your clit as you rode out the last dregs of your pleasure high.

It felt like your heart was in your throat as you tried to regain control of your breathing, legs shaking in Jing Yuan’s grasp as he leaned forward. He pressed your knees to your chest as he loomed over you, lips catching yours in a searing kiss. His breath was hot against your lips as his tongue plunged into your open mouth, spent cock still throbbing against your abdomen when you pressed closer to him. You delved your hands through his thick mane of hair, soft locks curling around your fingers as you tugged sharply on the strands. Jing Yuan groaned into your mouth, teeth catching on your bottom lip as you pulled apart from the kiss.

His eyes sparkled with mirth, fingers dipping beneath the band of your stockings once more and teasing the material with soft tugs. He leaned into your touch as your fingertips massaged his scalp, nails scraping against the back of his head as placed a soft kiss to his chin. His lips moved against yours when he spoke, his warm breath mingling with yours as his mouth ghosted over your skin.

"You should wear these more often" he mused, tugging at your stockings. "But next time, for my eyes only."

[petalsthefish]

“I need you to do me a favor.” Lily Evans never knew how quickly the sound of her voice made his heart race with anticipation.

James Potter glanced up from his homework, hastily scribbled during his break on a bench in the courtyard. The autumn leaves cascaded around, creating a picturesque scene behind his girlfriend, whose hair glistened like the fiery foliage in the sunlight. With a quick motion, James tucked his quill behind his ear, took her hand, and guided her to stand between his legs.

“Of course, what do you need?" He extended his hand to trace her freckles. She was so accustomed to his closeness that she didn't even flinch as his fingertips brushed against her face, rekindling a familiar fire in his belly.

She chewed on her bottom lip adorably, like she was contemplating something, before she stated firmly, “I need you to get detention.”

James raised a brow at her with disbelief and let out half a laugh. “Are you asking me to break the rules?”

A surge of excitement tingled through him. Lily usually upheld maturity and morals, often emphasizing the need for school leaders to maintain a higher standard of behavior. Sirius dubbed it a constant high horse, whereas Lily favored the term confident leadership. James leaned more into Sirius’ path, but he knew as head boy he really ought to not be a hypocrite.

Sometimes though, detention was inevitable.

Lily settled onto his right knee, her arm draping his shoulder casually as she implored, “I am begging you actually, because I heard Mulciber is the prefect covering detention and I don’t want to be stuck in a room for an hour with him…he creeps me out.”

“Why are you stuck with Mulciber?” James asked as his finger twirled a bit of her hair, “it’s Friday, you have off from head duties.”

Lily’s green eyes rolled back to emphasis her annoyance, “no, I don’t, I have detention.”

James nearly choked on his own spit from surprise, “wait, you have detention? How?”

“I told Professor Kettleburn to fuck off,” she said it so nonchalantly, he actually let out a little laugh as she continued, “I told him to fuck off because he was telling everyone werewolves are low life bums who deserve to rot in Azkaban.”

That struck a nerve. James knew why it had annoyed Lily too. Their best friend Remus was a werewolf. Kettleburn knew that too, all the teachers did. Only a few of the students were aware why Remus looked so sickly and stayed aloof unless he was with his friends. For Kettleburn to outright say those things in class knowing there was a werewolf at Hogwarts—James’ blood boiled at the thought of the sick intentions behind the lecture.

James gently pushed Lily off and stood up, “Well, I’ll be right back.”

Lily got a dejected look as she took his spot on the bench, “wait, where are you going?”

James pulled his sack up off the ground, stuffing his quill and notebook inside. “I’m going to put tiny dung bombs all over Professor Kettleburn’s office.”

Lily tilted her head, “but he’s probably in his office.”

“That’s the point.”

“He might murder you,” Lily said, “and I prefer my boyfriend alive, for snogging.”

He chuckled at her reasoning, cheeks warm as he thought of their last snog only that morning which had made them both miss potions. “I’m breaking a rule, like you asked me too do.”

“I mean Kettleburn would deserve it,” Lily murmured as she examined chipped paint on one of her fingernails, “he’s a miserable old ass.”

James leaned down to kiss her cheek swiftly as he heaved his bag onto his left shoulder, “I’m killing two birds with one stone love, see you at five for detention!”

He leaned back just in time to watch the diamonds in her green eyes light up. She ruffled his hair in an affectionate manner before he stood up straight.

“It’s a date,” she mused, “we can snog the whole time and piss Mulciber off.”

James cackled as he sauntered off, grateful he had three dung bombs left in his school bag’s back pocket from when he’d set some off in Ravenclaw’s locker room at quidditch. They would work nicely. Aware of the inquisitive eyes on him, he pulled one of the bombs out, ignoring the titters of the portraits watching him. Any students he passed saw the look in his eyes and kept running.

The bell for class would ring in five minutes, so he had to be quick and efficient. He took a shortcut through the bougainvillea portrait, arriving at Professor Kettleburn’s office in record time. Kettleburn was at his desk, ready and available to be rained on by dung bombs.

James knew he wouldn’t get his homework done at all now, but he was doing his girlfriend a favor, and who was he to say no to a little mischief?

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hey!! Could you please write ‘96 James with fem!reader where he’s is feeling lazy, so he lets the reader just ride his boot like a little slut?

A/n: This might just be my favourite James era. Also, I lost any and all motivation about half-way through this so I apologize but I hope you still enjoy reading it :'3

Warnings: Smut, thigh riding, boot riding??, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

It was your anniversary and you were waiting for James to get home from the studio. You were making dinner when you heard keys jingling and the front door rattling. You went over to greet James as he entered but were met with a very unhappy sight.

James just looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped and he barely smiled when he saw you. Even so he wrapped his arms around you and gave you a hug, kissing your forehead sweetly before making his way to the living room.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” You said to him as he left. You went back to cooking and when you were done you called him to the dining room.

“Just bring it here.” He said, tiredness creeping into his voice. You hesitated but gave in and brought him a plate to the living room. You made yourself comfortable beside him, even if he wasn’t in a good mood you wanted to spend such a special day with him.

He finished and asked you to get him seconds, so you did, returning back a moment later with his food. “Rough day?” You asked, wanting to get him talking.

James groaned in response. “Lars is just a fucking...” He trails off and shakes his head. You nod and lean your head against him when you get an idea.

You place your hand on his knee and trail it up his thigh. “I know what could make you feel better.” You mused, James just shook his head again.

“No, not tonight, I’m too tired.” He mumbled, poking at his second helping. You let out a sound of disappointment.

“But it’s our anniversary.” You said, looking up at him. “It’s special.” You could see in his eyes that there was frustration boiling inside him. You didn’t want to push him to anything, but you knew him well enough to get what you wanted.

“Come on, please?” You looked up at him with a pout, your hand still rubbing his thigh. “It would make me happy.” He let out a heavy sigh and you smirked to yourself. “Please?”

“Would you stop bitching in my ear for one second, please?” He snapped. The way he said it made it clear that ‘please’ was only added at the last second. You didn’t say anything more and kept your hand idle on his thigh. “Fuck, if you want it that bad get on your knees.” He demanded. You smiled happily and slid off the couch and onto your knees in front of him.

Your hands rested on his knees and you got ready to suck him off, only that’s not what he wanted. The way you were positioned you were between his legs as he manspread. He lightly kicked at your leg to get you to move over, you were confused but did as he gestured nonetheless, now hovering over his boot.

“Get yourself off.” He grunted and continued eating. You looked up at him all confusedly and he groaned. “Get yourself off!” He repeated in a firmer voice, harshly pushing the toe of his boot to meet your heat. Your eyes widened and you squirmed a bit, after collecting yourself you started grinding yourself on his boot.

You’d never done this before and it was a little awkward. James didn’t look at you, he didn’t move his foot, he just sat back and ate while he watched whatever was on the TV. It was strange, humiliating and oddly hot.

Your hips moved faster as you stared up at him, wanting to work for his attention since you knew you had to. He didn’t give you the time of day until you uttered a certain sentence.

While you’d been moaning and whining James didn’t care until you spoke up. “Daddy-daddy, ‘m gonna cum.” He finally looked down at you and with a blank expression he spoke.

“Cum on daddy’s boot.” With that your eyes rolled back and your mouth dropped open in soft moans. Your hips continued to buck against his hard boot as the high rocked through your body. “Good girl.” He praised, though there was no smile indicating he meant it. “Now keep going.” You stared up at him, cheeks flushed and breath heavy.

“What? But I-I just-”

“And take your clothes off.” James interrupted, looking back to his plate of food. “I want you to get out two more.” He stated. Knowing there was no negotiating you started stripping, almost hurt that he wasn’t watching as you did so.

Now bare you started grinding down on his boot again. The sensation was much harsher now, not only because you were still sensitive from the high but because there was nothing between your soft skin and his rough boot.

You were whining at the feeling but didn’t stop since you were already close. There was a wet spot on his boot, your slick helping to ease the texture.

Soon enough you came again, waiting a moment to calm down a bit. James swatted your cheek. “Did I say stop?” You shook your head. “Answer me, did I say stop?”

“No. No, you didn’t.” You replied, voice shaky and weak.

“Oh, I didn’t, did I?” He said, tsking. “Then why’d you stop?”

“I’m sorry.” You blurted. James shook his head and gestured for you to keep going. You did as you were told, rocking your hips on him once more. 

You could see a prominent bulge in james’ jeans. Seeing that gave you some motivation because you knew that he’d be giving you more than a boot tonight, he could never go to sleep with a hard-on. So you kept grinding on him, calling out for him over and over again.

Right when you were about to cum again he pulled his foot away and stood up to bring his plate to the sink. You stared at him as he walked away for a moment before chasing after him.

“What was that? I-I wasn’t done!” You said, reaching for his hand but he pulled it away.

“I know.” He said plainly. “Neither was I.” He ran some water over his empty plate and set it to the side. Still you watched his every move.

James wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight to him and crashed his lips onto yours. He pushed you back against the counter and spread your legs with his knee, guiding you to grind on his clothed thigh.

Now there was a small wet spot as he pulled another orgasm out of you, but he didn’t stop. And maybe that was the plan. Come home pretending he’d had a rough day and give you everything you needed except for his dick. Whatever the reason, drool was slipping down your chin and you couldn’t be happier.

[lesinquietes]

Summary: When Dabi agrees to leave you untouched until morning, you don’t expect him to break his promise.

18+ // minors dni // manipulation, noncon, yandere

Excerpt from Thief

—

You don’t struggle when he places a gentle kiss on your neck. The warm metal of his staples send an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. Still, this is better than having him inside you. If he wants to shower you in sweet pecks this evening, you can endure.

"What time you got, doll?" He asks, voice raspy.

Your glare flickers to the clock. Confusion clouds your mind, but you can’t see a reason to withhold this information from him. Unsure why it matters, you reply.

“Past twelve.”

A pregnant silence ensues. You remain unmoving in his grasp. After a while, you think the interaction is done; you don’t expect him to speak again. You jump when he does.

"Twelve?"

A horrible, conflicting feeling boils in the pit of your stomach. The tiny hairs on your body are standing on end despite the warmth of his body. You nibble on your lower lip. Something isn’t right. You can tell it isn’t merely your anxiety rising to the peak of your throat; that the atmosphere has soured since his initial question.

“Perfect.”

Unfortunately, he proves you right before you can even think to counter him. You don’t feel him shift until it’s too late. Within the blink of an eye, he’s rolled you onto your back and mounted you. He kicks the sheets off the bed so that the only remaining items are you, him, and a few pillows — just in case you need to muffle your screams.

Your eyes grow wide with horror. Reflexively, your arm shoots up to slap him, punch him, elbow him, or something, but he doesn’t let you make contact. He snatches your wrists in an iron-like grasp, pinning them to the mattress. There’s no leeway; there’s no escape.

"I think I've waited long enough to have you, baby," he whispers, leaning down so that you’re nose-to-nose. “And I only said I'd leave you untouched all night. It's morning… and you fuckin' owe me."

Your jaw drops. Of course he would use time against you like this. How did you miss it? When you agreed to his proposition, you assumed he meant all night as in the whole duration of the time you would be sleeping. You were a fool.

"Y-you… oh my god, Dabi," you hiss, sputtering your outrage. “You're a fucking monster."

His eye twitches. Monster. You’re not the only woman to call him that. It barely hurts at this point, so he elects to laugh in your face. He laughs at your stupid expression and the way your tears stream down the sides of your head. He laughs at the memories of others hurling that thoughtless insult at him. And he laughs at the pain that you, of all people — you, the only person he’s ever trusted with safeguarding his feelings — have caused him.

Maybe he is a monster. Maybe he is vile. Maybe he doesn’t deserve a prize like you. But to hear you spit vitriol at him, using every last drop of venom in your body to reject him, makes his head feel like it’s splitting apart.

Fine. Okay. If that’s what you want, he’s happy to oblige you. He’ll be the monster you think he is. Perhaps you’ll be grateful for his leniency once you witness how terrible he can truly be.

"Thought you already knew that, doc," he muses, tone frigid. "In your notes, you called me highly aggressive and delusional, remember?"

“You’re really doing this to get back at me for something I wrote in my notes?!” You ask him incredulously.

He doesn’t reply for a moment. He simply stares down at you — a ravenous beast appraising his live meal. The playful grin vanished when you called him a monster; his teasing demeanor dissipated a few moments after that. The only thing left is turbulent anger and insatiable, rapacious lust. He’s turned his logical brain off.

“No.”

He scoops both of your wrists into one large hand and pins them to the headboard. The back of your head smacks against the wood. There’s barbarous intention in his movements. They lack fluidity and ooze cruelty.

He chuckles humourlessly when you buck against him, like you’re the bull and he’s the matador. He has you wrangled, though. There‘s no one to interrupt him this time, and you’re weak. He waits for you to tire yourself out. It doesn’t take long. As you tucker yourself out, his cerulean eyes burn through you in the darkness.

“You know why I’m doing this, doll?”

His breath smells strongly of spearmint. You might have enjoyed it on anyone else. On him, it’s nauseating. Your vision is blurring and your skull feels heavy. Air is leaving your lungs faster than it blows in. Grasping your chin to domineer your focus, he shakes you back to a vivid, lucid reality.

You swallow when he creeps closer, running his thick, slimy tongue across your upper lip. When he tows back, you gaze through the shadows at his grinning, deformed face.

This is totally not my art! BrattyBatty whipped this up and gave me permission to embed it into chapter 10 of Thief. I wanted to share it, with its little excerpt, here ☺️ pls give her so much love, she deserves it

[taintedcigs]

our muses haven’t been speaking,  but sender rushes to take care of receiver after they’ve been injured or fell ill. 

with eddie munson! happy birthday!!! 🍒

healer

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

word count: 1.3k+

warnings: nothing rlly, a fight?, mentions of alcohol and a creep hitting on reader but the rest is just some fluff! a little kiss, and VV cheesy!

a/n: i seriously am unable to write short blurbs bc somehow they turn into 1k+ like i tried so hard to write it short I AM SORRY!! and ahhh thank you sm baby!! I LOVE hurt/comfort sooosooo much and AHH HOPE I DID IT JUSTICE <33 also this is very rushed srry abt that >:(

join my birthday celebration!

it had been weeks, weeks since you and eddie had last talked, your friendship taking a toll after he decided to shut you out, but now that the two of you were at the same bar, you were unable to avoid him, especially when stupid robin insisted on saying hi to him.

you wished you didn't care, but your heart dropped the second you saw him, his curls messily laying on his forehead, and it didn't help when he had that familiar gaze, his eyes mesmerizing as they bored into yours.

“hi, honey.” he uttered those words like they meant nothing and you felt anger bubbling inside of you, the nickname rolling off his tongue like old times and it made you want to hate him more, despite knowing how much you had missed him.

“hi.” you barely let out, feeling suffocated under his gaze and presence, and before he could say anything back to you, you quickly excused yourself, rushing over to the bar to get another drink.

that's when everything happened too fast, it started with a drunk creep hitting on you, you refused his advances, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer, it was annoying but you could handle it, until he started getting handsy.

you didn’t notice eddie eyeing you ever since you left his side, worry laced over him and when the creep started getting handsy his jaw clenched, he rushed over to your side, quickly, telling the guy to fuck off.

when the guy tried to wave him off, that’s when you realized how pissed off eddie was, his fists clenched at his side, “leave her the fuck alone, dude.” his voice stern as he felt like a man possessed whenever the topic was you.

then one insult another, the guy pushed eddie, only getting two punches in, before eddie chuckled facing him.

you knew it was going to get bad by the way eddie rolled his tongue inside of his cheek before he beat the guy to a pulp.

when your initial shock wore off, you were quick to pull eddie off the guy, no matter how much of a creep he was, you didn't want anything to happen to eddie.

when eddie's attention turned to you, you gave his hand a comforting squeeze, your eyes begging for this to be over.

and as soon as he saw your worried state, his demeanor softened, he gave you an understanding look, towering over the creep who was groaning in the ground.

"don't you ever fucking lay your hands on her ever again." he spat, his hands wiping off the blood from his nose, you blinked slowly to try to process everything that had happened, and you were so glad eddie was there to help you.

and eddie knew.

he knew his overprotectiveness over you was something more than a friend would feel, he knew the blood boiling inside of him the second that creep was next to you was because he had feelings for you.

granted, he would do this for any of his friends. but it was you, and he would give you the entire world if you asked him for it.

and after that you didn't hesitate to take him back to your place, wanting to clean his cuts and treat his bloodied knuckles. you expected eddie to say no, but he didn't, he couldn't say no to you, not when he had missed you too much to do so, just the sight of you alone had sent him into a frenzy, he needed you, and he wanted to be with you.

he had regretted shutting you out weeks ago, doing so to bottle up his feelings for you, not knowing how much he hurt both of you in the process.

and eddie wanted to melt with how gentle you were being with him, he didn't deserve it, yet there you were, driving him home, and taking care of him on your bed as you tried to clean his cuts and heal his scars.

he couldn't help but feel his heartstrings tug when he saw you wincing at his bruises, holding out an ice pack as you tried to apply it on his face without hurting him.

when he hissed, you panicked, your eyes widening as you muttered out apologies. "shit- i'm so sorry, eds- eddie." the way you corrected the nickname had his face souring, he wanted you to call him eds again, he wanted to be this close to you always.

he shook his head, "no... i should be the one apologizing." he murmured, and you tilted your head confused, causing eddie to sigh uncomfortably.

"i was such an idiot, shutting you out." he faced you, his voice strained and his eyes glossy as you looked up at him hopeful.

"i was just... scared." he admitted, it felt good to get it all out, he felt comfortable being vulnerable with you.

"scared of what?" you asked, your voice barely audible, and your eyes had softened, your lingering anger was nowhere to be seen, washed away as soon as you saw eddie hurt.

"scared of you pulling away from me..." he shook his head, he felt stupid. "i wanted to walk away, run away, before you could reject me." he admitted, it stung to do so, but he couldn't handle it anymore, he couldn't handle not being able to tell you about his feelings.

"w-what do you mean?" you asked, meekly, you didn't want to get your hopes up, but you were desperate, desperate to hear him say that he liked you too.

"i'm saying, i... fuck- i like you, honey, i like you so fucking much it scares me." he admits, his hands are soft as they reach for yours, and you blink slowly, trying to process his words.

"w-what?" you stutter, not being able to comprehend what eddie was hinting at, you had been in hell ever since eddie had been avoiding you, and now he was back, and telling you everything you ever wanted to hear.

eddie feels his cheeks flush, he's unable to meet your eyes. "it's okay, i-i know you don't feel the same way, you don't have to-" he feels embarrassed almost, knowing you are too good for him. but you don't let him finish.

you put the ice pack down quickly, gently cupping his face in your hands, scared to hurt him, you press a gentle kiss to his lips, your lips softly intertwining with his, and when the initial shock wears off, eddie responds, quickly, his lips messily clashing with yours.

he winces from his own harsh movements, but he doesn't care, his pain is washed away by your gentle lips on his.

he grins into the kiss, unable to contain his excitement, his hands shakey as they hold onto your waist.

"you have no idea how long i've been waiting to do this." he murmurs into your lips and you giggle pulling away softly, causing him to whine.

"i like you too, eds." you softly add, his eyes glimmering at the nickname, he can't believe that you, the prettiest girl, the girl of his dreams, his best girl reciprocating his feelings, he wants to pinch himself to see if it’s all real.

"say that again." his eyes are glimmering, and you can't help but giggle at how adorable he is.

"i like you." you say, louder this time. and eddie's grin is childish, he leans in further. "again, please." he's desperate, craving for more.

"ilikeyouilikeyouilikeyouilikeyou." you repeat like a mantra, pressing soft kisses to eddie's lips each time you repeat those three words, and eddie swears he's in heaven, he spends the rest of the night getting lost in your lips, as he relishes the fact that you, you actually like him.

[ghostchems]

thief - silco x female!reader - part two

silco has an offer for you.

tags: drug addiction, drug abuse, shimmer, shimmer abuse, injections??, p in v sex, rough sex, cunnilingus, silco POSSESSED me for this one, phewww. 18+! mdni! part one. ao3 link.

You wake up to being dragged out of bed, snatched by an impossibly strong arm. When your vision comes to, you see that the door to your apartment (approximate size of a closet) is smashed open and your things strewn about. How the fuck are you supposed to react to this?

“Hey, what the—“ You’re cut off by a your head slamming into the corner of your bed frame. Out like a light.

First, you hear sounds — music thumping off in the distance and general chatter. It grows quieter and quieter, replaced with whispers and sighs until your vision starts to come back. Silence as you finally open your eyes to find yourself sitting in a rickety chair across from the most powerful man in Zaun. The office is dimly lit but you’re able to get the best look at him yet, handsome but severe in a way that makes your skin crawl. Silco taps his desk as his mismatched eyes drag across your body, absolutely underdressed for your current situation — a t-shirt and a loose pair of sweats. You curl your arms around yourself, trying to be as small as possible. Is this it? He’s decided to kill you, hasn’t he? Prick.

“They were too rough with you.” Silco muses as he stands from his desk and carefully makes his way around it to settle in front of you. “Get undressed.”

A breath catches in your throat. Your mouth drops open but nothing comes out other than a few stutters. You’re unable to bring yourself to move, confusion written across your face.

“Really? You’re going to hesitate…” He grumbles, eye narrowing. “You’ve stolen from me. I have more than enough reason to have you killed — so do yourself a favor and do what I say.” Hard truths from a man asking you to take your pants off. Hands tremble as you lower your them to your waistband and push your sweats down your hips, watching the skin become exposed with a furious blush on your face. Silco hums with satisfaction, watching as your pants drop around your ankles. His fingers toy with a box on his desk, messing with the latch until he can no longer contain himself. A sly grin spreads across his face as he flicks it open, revealing several syringes full of shimmer.

Your entire body clenches just from seeing the purple hue, a gasp ripping from your throat. So much for detoxing. Legs tremble and shake as Silco picks up one of the syringes and slinks closer to you, his eyes dragging across your exposed lower half. He lifts the vial up to the dim light, examining it and stays just out of your reach as you break out in a cold sweat.

“I-I’m trying to quit.” Through clenched teeth, averting your eyes. Silco tsks and lowers himself to his knees in front of you, planting one large hand on the top of your thigh.

“Why is that, girl? You were so desperate for a drop about a week ago.” He hisses and gives your thigh a hard squeeze. Toes curl. Body shudders. You give a ragged breath and your eyes dart around the room before finally settling on him. The smug look on his face makes your blood boil but you bite your tongue. All the fire inside you melts away as he lightly drags the tip of the needle down your inner thigh. “Are you ashamed of what we did in that alleyway?” Silco’s voice drops dangerously low as he dips his head further between your legs only to look up at you with hunger in his eyes. You can’t deny the way your core tightens as his breath wafts along your inner thigh.

“No.” The air has left your lungs. You sink further into your seat in defeat, much to his delight. “I… I put myself in danger stealing from you. I don’t want to be in that position again so I figured… I figured I should just quit so I won’t ever need it that badly again.” You take deep breaths, chest rising and falling, trying to soothe yourself despite the needle inching closer to the hem of your underwear.

“Hm.” Silco’s eyes wander to between your legs. “There’s a solution here for the both of us. I can supply you with shimmer, all the shimmer you could possibly need, if…” Cool eyes flicker up to meet yours. “You come when I call.” A shiver runs down your spine. The most powerful man in Zaun is on his knees in front of you, offering you an endless supply of your favorite drug in exchange for letting him fuck you every so often. On the surface it doesn’t seem like such a terrible deal. But beneath the alluring purple glow there is the threat of spiraling deeper into addiction while becoming bedfellows with a well-known criminal and murderer. This partnership could lead to your death but what would your life be like if you don’t accept? Boring and miserable, continuing your existence living in the slums struggling to make it through each day.

“Why me?” You know the answer already.

“Because you started it.” He purrs and lowers his face between your thighs, pressing his face against the crotch of your underwear. You white knuckle the arms of the chair, back arching and tipping your head back with a strangled gasp. Silco’s tongue drags along the thin fabric of your already wet panties while his nose presses hard into your clit, a moan vibrating from his mouth that makes you squirm. His large hands move up your legs to your hips and settle just below your rib cage while the syringe presses against your stomach. Nothing about this should be working for you but it is, that twisted part of you reveling in how desperate he is for your cunt. He pulls his head up from between your legs, a few strands of hair having fallen into his face and there’s a glaze over his cool blue eye.

Your mouth falls open but before you’re able to react he sinks the needle into your abdomen. Gasping to catch your breath as the need becomes impossible to ignore, your hands fumble for the plunger, one of your palms finally making it and shoving it down. Silco huffs and quickly scoops you into his arms as your body lurches from the injection, muscles tensing and your head is explodes like a firecracker. You pant and whine, arms slung over his shoulder while his hand is firm against your back to keep you in place. He drops you onto the couch and wastes no time, deft fingers tugging your underwear down while your body pulses and aches from the power coursing through you.

“F-fuck.” You moan as he tastes you, licking a long stripe up your slick fold. He lets you sink into the cushion so that he can maneuver your knees over his shoulders. His nose presses hard against your clit, tongue pushing in and out of you. Your toes curl and hips buck involuntarily, whining as you nearly tear through the back of the couch. Heart is thundering in your ears, already gasping from the shimmer and now moaning from his deft tongue. He pulls away with a sharp breath.

“So perfect.” Silco whispers, feeling his warm breath on your cunt. The praise sends shockwaves through you. He buries his face between your legs and consumes you, tongue working you open and pushing deeper and deeper as he moans from the taste. You arch against the cushions, already dangling at the precipice of completely losing yourself. How could someone so terrible be so good with his tongue? He digs his fingers into your thighs, push them open wide as he mouths up to your clit. White hot pleasure erupts through you as he seals his mouth around it and gives it a harsh suck.

“Silco, g-god!” You gasp, your body tensing and lifting from the couch. Head tilts enough so that you can see him, eyes squeezed shut and thoroughly enjoying himself. Hips buck into his face with deep need. Silco grunts against you, his grip so tight on you to keep you in place as he devours you. Sucking, licking, flicking his tongue until you’re a mess, a wild scream exploding from your lungs. Your body shudders as you ride out your orgasm, feeling it crash over you from your core to the tips of your fingers.

Silco lifts his head and through the haze you see his face, his real face slick with your juices. Infected, damaged skin around his eye with black splotches that travels down the side of his pale face to cut through his lips. Silco, the Eye of Zaun, wears… concealer? You want to comment so badly but his hands find your hips again and he pulls you hard into his lap. Instincts have you clutch his shoulders until you’re straddled comfortably on him, eyes flitting from the collar of his shirt back up to his face. Purple reflects in his eyes from your glowing irises. Fingertips curiously brush his face, along the scars down his cheek until you reach his lips. You think back to the alleyway, how you kissed him out of desperation but now… you cup his cheeks and press your lips to his.

He purrs into the kiss, his tongue working its way into your mouth. Your body is on fire, melting into the kiss. Impatient hands drop into his lap to unbutton his pants. You break the kiss and press your lips to his earlobe, giving it a nibble before mouthing further down his neck. Silco’s hips roll into you, his cock gliding against the slick between your legs. You adjust your hips so that the tip of his cock is at your entrance. He gives a slow exhale as you sink down, fully sheathing his cock as his hands guiding you by your hips.

You grind your hips into him, dragging out every one of your movements to the very edge while fingers run through his slick hair. Silco’s black eye seems to burn with intensity as it rakes over your body, soft pants and groans falling from his lips. One hand digs into the supple flesh of your ass. Arms rest in his shoulders as your fingertips feel the hair at the nape of his neck. He’s in the palm of your hand, at the mercy of your pussy. The power and pleasure mixes deliciously with the shimmer coursing through your body, giving you the confidence to take advantage of this newfound control. Your fingers weave into the longer hair at the top of his head and you give it a harsh yank, forcing up to look up at you as your lips ghost his.

A hoarse moan slips from his throat, his large hands grasping you with renewed need and eyes wide. How pretty he looks while surprised. You catch his lower lip between your teeth and sink down into his lap, clenching around his cock. Silco claws into your back, giving a rumbling whine as he crushes his mouth against yours. You nearly choke on his tongue, the control you had slipping away just as his hair slips between your fingers. His hips thrust wildly, fucking into you so hard that it knocks the air from your lungs. A hand closes around your throat, squeezing as he forces you on your back. You hit the couch with a grunt and his breath hot in your ear.

“Do not forget who is in charge here, girl.” Silco sneers, his grip tightening around your neck. Strong for a lanky guy. You gasp and reach for his wrist, the shimmer making your first instinct be to fight back. He catches one of your hands and pins it above your head, laughing coldly. Teeth graze your earlobe. You feel the adrenaline radiating off of him and for a moment you consider — is he using too? Silco lines himself up with your entrance as he nips down your neck, drawing a groan from your lips. You relax against him, tilting your head and leaning into his touch.

“That’s a good girl.” He hums into the crook of your neck before sinking his teeth in as his hips jerk to fill your cunt. You cry out, your voice strained and your eyes well up with tears. Silco’s pace is hard and unforgiving, each thrust loud and forceful enough that you’re shoved further into the cushion. He lifts his head and presses his forehead against yours, jaw clenched and growling as he fucks into you. You feel everything, how his nails dig into your throat, how the muscles in his thighs tense against yours, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

“God, fuck.” You squeeze your eyes shut, the tension getting ready to snap in your core. Silco growls in response and claims your mouth again, his kiss all teeth and tongue. Your body trembles, your whines gaining a higher pitch as you’re rocketing toward release.

“You feel s-so fucking good. My shimmer running through your veins. A small taste of power.” He snarls against your lips, letting go of your throat only to tangle his fingers in your hair. A sharp yank forces your eyes open and through the purple haze you see how he burns for you. It’s too much for you, the rush overtaking you as a scren rips from you. The orgasm barrels through you and you tip your head back, mouth dropping open in a silent moan.

Silco presses his nose into your cheek, raggedly breathing against you as his hips stutter and his grip on your hair tightens. Your fingers dig into the cushion of the couch, wet sounds filling your ears. A rumbling growl starts deep inside him, growing louder and louder, so much so that it vibrates through you until he brings himself to the edge. He groans through gritted teeth and spills heavily inside of you. You’re ruined. The last time was so quick, so frantic that even though you felt him it didn’t last long. He took his time tonight. Still not done, he drags his face down your chest and settles between your breasts, hands squeezing and fingers toying with your perky nipples. You arch into him but give a pleading whine —you can’t take much more. Silco hums against you, then sits up but keeps his hands roaming your skin, taking in your naked state for the first time as he pants raggedly. Eyes scan over your bruises, sprinkled throughout your arms, torso and legs. Thumb brushes over the injection site just beneath protruding ribs. You’re scrawny. Hungry.

He clicks his tongue, lifting his hand only to press down on your neck where he had bitten you. When he pulls back you see the blood on his fingers. You shudder. Silco gets up from the couch, leaving you spread out and yet feeling crumpled as he licks the blood from the tips of his fingers. Quick to fetch and light a cigar, he leans against his desk and takes a drag or two in silence. You manage to sit up but that’s all the movement you have in you at the moment, your limbs far too heavy.

“I don’t know you.” His voice is thick as it cuts through the silence.

“Uh… excuse me? What?” A whisper and you realize your teeth are chattering, a symptom of the shimmer.

“I know a little bit about most of the population.” He rubs at his temple, cigar between his fingers. Cool eyes meet yours after a beat. “I don’t know you.” There’s danger in his voice. You become painfully aware of how naked you are before him, laid bare as everything seems to hinge on your response. Suck in a sharp breath, trying to clear yourself.

“I’ve tried to stay out of trouble, until…” You trail off. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, so minuscule but you see it. “What were you doing in that alley, Silco?” Curiousness gets in the way of getting off scott clean. He bristles and turns his back to you, focusing on the green window behind his desk.

“Looking for my daughter.”

“… did you find her?”

“Yes.” It’s obvious you’ve struck a nerve. “Get dressed. And have a meal on your way out.” Curt and vicious, he saunters behind his desk with his cigar dangling from his mouth, a hand quickly snatching one of the many clipboards. His attention is gone and you’re left feeling cold despite still being high on shimmer.

You gather your things, get dressed and leave, not in the mood for food.

[moxfirefly]

We really don't see enough of protective Donnie and I would love to see him just snap a little if someone was bothering his S/O.

❝  i don’t like how they keep staring at me.   ❞

❝  what did you just say to them,  you little shit?  ❞

❝  see,  i woulda left it alone.  but you made them fucking cry.  so now you’re gonna lose your eyes.  ❞

[ SHELTER ]  for one muse to lean into the other’s side or hug them to seek comfort from a crowd or individual while in public. 

[ RESCUE ]  for one muse to intervene upon seeing a third party making the other one uncomfortable. 

Man it was hard trying to stay within the limit but I hope I gave you good prompts to work with! Can't wait to see what you come up with 🐢💜

*vibrates excitedly* unhinge Don? Oh friend YOU HAVE NO IDEA.

Somebody said Vern is the perfect scapegoat but why not have a little fun and have it be Casey this time 😏

Rated Mature cause Don’s gonna smack a bitch if he’s pushed.

You and Casey had never seen eye to eye, mostly because he came off as an arrogant prick.

And on good days he was just arrogant.

But tonight?

Well.

It was no secret that you had a couple of thoughts on New York’s finest, aka the cops.

One too many times had you seen their ‘shoot first ask questions later’ mindset in action. You’d seen excessive force, you’d seen the racism and mysogony. You felt and knew deep inside that if the day game where the guys were expendable that they be thrown under the metaphorical bus.

It never sat right with you.

So Casey had made a comment about work tonight and you hadn’t kicked on your filter and had retorted back with a snide comment about crooked cops and their ways. It had quite easily crawled its way up beneath Casey’s skin, he’d made a face and he had proceeded to give you the stink eye for the rest of the night.

Once dinner was put away and everyone went about the night time routine, Casey had continued to eye you with a scalding glare. You could tell he was itching to say something, it was frothing above the surface.

Donatello was on dishes duty and had caught the tail end of your comment towards Mikey.

“-I don’t like how he keeps staring at me” You placed the last of the left overs in containers and passed them off to Mikey.

Donnie had casted a look over his shoulder at Casey, who seem to be venting to Raphael about tonight’s little debate.

You found your way next to Donnie, resting your head against his bicep. He could tell you were bothered, while it was a sore subject it didn’t necessarily give Casey the right to cast daggers at you all evening.

“Are you alright?” He asked, careful to not drip too much concern in his tone. He felt your shrug, a sigh blown against his pebbled flesh. “Maybe I was too mean? I should apologize” You spoke softly, there was remorse in your tone. While you were right you also knew Casey was an alley, a friend.

Just as you made your mind up to at least let Casey know you knew he was on the guys side, everything went down the shitter.

Donnie saw you walk over and before you could extend a let ‘bygones be bygones’ apology, Casey had simply snapped at you. It was harsh, it was simply fucking mean. You stood stock still, shocked and taken aback.

Donnie shut off the sink, the clatter of a plate hitting the metal of the sink the one sound in the room. The rest watched in shock at what had just happened.

Donnie’s heavy footfalls alerted you he was there. He got between you and Casey, one look at your watering eyes as you stared at his boots was all he needed. He felt something boil inside of him, the very notion that somebody could make you cry, it was enough for that little part buried inside of him. That little part of him capable of unfathomable violence.

“What did you say to them, you little shit?” Don’s voice made you look up shocked at what he had said. You’d never heard him speak like that, and clearly Casey was just as surprised.

“Come on Don she’s been riding my ass about being some crooked cop! I know-“

“I never said you were crooked, Casey I was-”

“You might as fucking well did!”

His tone made you flinch and the embarrassed frustrated tears threatened to spill. It felt like a spotlight had been shone down upon you. Brought you back to those moments a parental figure would judge you and berate you.

A large hand wrapped around the scruff of Casey’s shirt. Casey eyes found themselves met with a pair of ones much, much angrier than his own. “See I woulda left it alone…” Donnie pushed Casey against the dinning table just as Raph’s desperate ‘Donnie no no no no’ came tumbling out of him. “But you made her fucking cry, so now you’re gonna lose your eyes”Casey honest to goodness yelped and nearly prayed when Raph got between them. “Case, the gym. Now. Don, walk it off, go” Raph’s hand patted Donnie’s plastron.

Casey had forgotten briefly just how tall Donnie was, just how menacing he could appear at his full height with a hand wrapped around one designed with the strength to cause a lot of damage. Donnie’s eyes didn’t acknowledge Raph’s presence, he let them stay on Casey. The silent threat was enough, and with a not so gentle shove he released Casey from his grip. A few items on the table cluttered down along with Casey’s balance and dignity.

Casey’s trembling eyes found yours.

You looked away.

Raph led him away to the home gym. Space and a cool down was the remedy for now.

You looked at Donnie’s back, there was a tremble to his hands and tension to his arms. You took a tentative step, hands grabbing his forearm before you leaned against his arm much like you’d done by the sink. It was enough to quiet his thoughts, his shaking hands to still. He looked down at his side, at the top of your head and sighed.

His arm wrapped itself around you, securely.

This was a side he never wanted you to see.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

i am SO here for the influx of love for “keep quiet”. that fic… S…

potentially my favorite fic of yours to exist and if you EVER wanted to temporarily put pause on pussy steve to bring back this sloppy, squirty, dumbified, pretty pussy bucky i would be forever in your debt

related to this, and this

of course, also, "Keep Quiet, Nothing Comes As Easy As You"

For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.

Thank you!!

And, listen, why spend time just talking about one of those boys when you can ramble about them both?

Attempted 69, oral sex, fingering, teasing/dirty talk, etc.

Bucky is scorching hot--red-hot--from the tips of his ears aaaall the way down to his clenched, curled toes. It is redicious, how fucking lethally high the fever he's running has gotten. But he's not just flaming. Every inch of his body is a guitar string twisted and tightened to the point of breaking.

He's so fucking tense and yet so useless, too, limp like an overcooked noodle that's weak, falling apart, barely keeping it's head above the surface of the simmering water. Both. He's, yeah, he's both.

He's burning up, evaporated, but he's also just a liquefied puddle. Solid mush. There is too much sensory onslaught to track.

And Bucky can't make sense of it all, spinning and sloshing inside his empty head. He's so fucking thankful he's lying on his back, face-up with their sex-mused, sweat-damp sheets stuck to his arching, tingling back because if he were anywhere else he would be crumbling. Falling to his knees, or, worse, more embarrassingly, straight onto his face. There is no way to hold himself together when such intense pleasure flows through him like a fucking waterfall. All soaked. There is no way to hole himself together when he's consumed by flames in the middle of a firepit. Burning hot.

Bucky is quivering chaotically, uncoordinatedly, and he's moving his mouth, sloppy and fast yet slow, and he's not talking, he's barely able to rattle out moans, and he's blushing so badly from head to toe that he must look like he's been dipped in a pool of wet, glistening pink paint and he's swollen from how fucking much he's blushing, his blood boiling, and he's sensitive. Tingling. Sparkling. His blood is wreaking havoc on his body as it rushes through his veins, boiling, boiling, thick, and pumping.

Oh, god.

It's so goddamn overwhelming.

Bucky doesn't know what he's doing--he doesn't even know if he's making Steve feel good. Because. Yeah. That's right. That's what he's supposed to be doing.

He has a mission here and he's probably utterly fucking failing at it. He can't rub two brain cells together to think about how to do better, though. He is, just, consumed by this. Now. Here. Hot. Wet. Sensitive.

Steve told him he'd make him feel good if Bucky made him feel good, too. And he's trying. He's trying so hard that he's pretty sure there are tears leaking out of his eyes, but his face is also so slick and coated in the wetness of Steve's arousal that he can't tell.

What's tears?

What's dripping wetness from Steve's hot cunt?

What's the fucking difference?

Bucky can't tell if he's crying, sobbing, choking, or just using his whole face so uncoordinatedly, so unashamedly getting up in Steve's pussy that he's smeared his heated, briny wetness so high up on his cheeks that he thinks he's crying. There's sweat beading his hairline, too. He's soaking into the mattress from the perspiration seeping from every pore on his body. His lips--his mouth and his... not mouth lips--feel swollen from how long they've been at this. Overused. Licking and tonguing and nipping each other to rip out moans and gasps and cries of pleasure. Orgasm after orgasm.

Bucky spread across their bed, Steve on top of him, flipped the other way.

When he got like that, positioning their bodies just so, Steve lewdly spread his legs to expose himself from his cute, sweet swollen clit past his wet, clutching vagina to his tight, tight asshole; he's so pink and pretty and Bucky might be fucking burning, but he's also drowning and suffocating and dying a million different ways between his legs. Steve on top of him, bodily, his weight shoving Bucky down into the mattress.

Jesus.

Bucky has pressed his entire face up against Steve's pussy, diving in, and he's dying that way plus dying at how Steve is doing the same for him.

Too much pleasure.

He can't.

Steve is doing a much, much better job. Bucky is... pretty sure. He can't think straight. Earlier, he had his tongue on Steve's clit and two fingers buried in his cunt and was pulling more fucking sticky, hot, salty wetness out of him with the stimulation but at some point. Christ. At some point, Steve stepped up his game, and Bucky couldn't. He needed something else to hold onto. He needed to dig all ten points of his fingers into Steve's hips to keep from thrashing and squirming hugely, getting away from or getting more of Steve's talented mouth. He doesn't fucking know. God.

Please.

He can't.

He whines needily, stupidly into Steve's pussy, licking at him broadly to try and give some of what Steve is giving him back. It's so hard. He doesn't know what he wants; he doesn't know what he needs; he doesn't know what he's doing.

It's a stupidly pathetic and delicous display. The difference between them stark. They're both so fucking aroused but Steve can keep his cool and keep his technique, Bucky, on the other hand, can't keep a single fucking shiver from shaking through him as if it's the most devastating earthquake. Steve is curling three fingers deep inside him and sucking at his clit and Bucky feels like he could fucking burst out of his skin. Steve's pressing hotly against that spot inside him that has his vision blurring into a hot, white void of, just, need and he's sucking on his clit hard enough that it hurts. It's that bite of too much, too good pain that leaves Bucky failing to swallow down a little behind-his-teeth shriek.

Steve is too good at multitasking for this to be fair. Bucky can't help it. He can't keep up! He's infamous for going dumb during sex and he's so sensitive between his legs, just one touch, one murmur of sweet words, and he can't handle it, and Steve is too damn skilled at eating pussy and he's just--

It's not fair!

If Bucky wasn't crying before, now he is.

He is.

Crying.

"C'mon, princess," Steve pulls back only the slightest bit with a truly obscene sound. Almost a goddamn wet slurp. All that fucking wetness dripping like honey out of him, making Steve's breath against him even more noticable, his huffing feels painted on. Every word leaving Bucky quivering and exposed.

Brazenly, at the same time that Steve's voice purrs over those teasing words, he drags his three fingers out of Bucky's tight, trembling pussy and slips them up and down, up and down, up and down his wet slit, teasing him, playing with him so fucking effectively. Shit. He feels how fucking hard his clit is but also, god, he feels swollen everywhere.

He's blushing with his entire body, so how can all of his blood be centered between his legs, making him flush hot and swell with arousal? It doesn't make sense. It doesn't have to make sense. Bucky can't make sense, he can't put one thought in front of the other.

Oh, fuck. me.

"C'mon, pillow princess, baby, don't stop," Steve doesn't stop. Nevermind how he's not even out of breath, the fucker.

He's terrible. Eating pussy like a champ, dirty talking like he doesn't care about how pornographic his mouth is getting, not ashamed for even an instant, and totally merciless as he strips Bucky down.

Bucky whimpers, sucking wet, sloppy kisses down the inside of Steve's thighs clenched around his face to try and not drown. If he didn't already know Steve likes it--likes him like this, likes teasing him--he'd know now with how he's flooding him, shoved in so close to his cunt.

Bastard.

Meanwhile, Steve fucking kisses him on the pussy like he'd kiss his mouth if they were face-to-face, frenching. Filthy motherfucker. He will call him names until his eyes roll back because he's awful. And names are the best he can do. He doesn't have anything else going for him--so weak.

"Thought I told you not to stop," Steve rumbles, sliding the tease of two fingertips in him, making him really fucking feel how his hole clenches tight.

Bucky whines like he's dying because he is.

In retort, Steve slaps him; he doesn't hit him in the face or let his big, heavy hand collide with his ass, spanking him, nah, Steve's worse. Steve is a pervert. 'Cause, no fucking problem or hesitation, he's manhandling Bucky's legs apart, spreading him wide and leaving him vulnerable to the rush of cold air across his sex, and, from there, he's bringing his hand down flat and stinging across his pussy.

He slaps Bucky's pussy.

And.

Bucky just fucking squeals, his eyes rolling all the way back into his skull.

He's gone.

If he was useless before, then there isn't a word for how vulnerable and helpless and fucking dumb Bucky is now. There's no one home. He's vacant. Eyes glassy and far-away. But it isn't enough for Steve. It never is. It's not a true Rogers marathon fuck session until Bucky passes out.

So, as Steve turns around--purposefully grinding his pussy against Bucky's lazily open mouth, hanging wide, before he dismounts him, using him how he wants--Steve makes sure to arch his back, showing off his goddamn perfect ass, and settle neatly in his lap. Okay, almost in his lap. He's offset enough to grind, humid and sticky, against Bucky's thick upper thigh. Riding his leg as he unceremoniously shoves two fingers back into Bucky's cunt. Torturing him.

"Should've known better," Steve muses to himself as he fingerfucks him into oblivion. Two fingers in, fucking him good, giving him something to clench down on while his thumb is against his clit, rubbing and pressing tight enough to leave his vision to ignite into sparking fireworks. Shit. Wet sounds fill the room as the air grows thicker and more fragrant around them. It smells like sex. Like pussy. Undeniably.

"There's no fuckin' way you could handle 69in', 'course not," he smirks to himself, his accent really coming out the hotter he gets for this. "You get too fuckin' dumb. Can't even do anythin' when I'm just touchin' you. How could you have any smarts when you're getting touched and expected to touch me, too? Fuckin' pillow princess." He's all too self-satisfied because he fucking knows he does this to Bucky. Before him, Bucky wasn't so--yeah. He didn't get so dumb. It's just Steve. Steve gets all Steve, and Bucky can't handle it!

Bucky is so dumb now that he can't even argue. He can't agree, either. So, he just lays there, whimpering and pleasured so exorbitantly he can't hardly take it.

He's gonna cum again.

P.S. I don't have an ask to relate this to as an excuse to write it, so I'm just gonna fucking stick it here because why not-?

So, imagine pussy Steve getting it into his head for one reason or another that he's gonna peg the shit out of Bucky (even though pegging implies that it's a woman doing it to a man and they're both men here), like, he's gonna dick his boyfriend better than Bucky can dick him.

He's stubborn.

He's competitive.

He's... oh.

Bucky gets him a nice big, thick strap, something that will be a struggle for him to take because he's hungry like that, and Steve harnesses it on.

He puts his shiny new toy in place and he's so fucking excited that he's all wet and slippery between his legs, and he fucks in and, "OH!" He can't keep his moaning gasp in. It's just the way his clit grinds against the base of his toy. It feels like lightning cutting through him. White hot.

He was so into the idea of fucking Bucky and taking him apart but here he is, puppy panting, tongue out, shaking because every time he jerkily thrusts, it makes him wetter. He's so sensitive down between his legs, he can't help it. Every thrust is a bigger shock for him.

Plus, the sight of his strap fucking in and out of Bucky? Jesus Christ. How does Bucky ever do this, much less do it while being able to feel his dick? What the fuck?

Steve squeals when Bucky chuckles and strains to reach between his legs, cupping his wet, swollen sex in one big palm and asking, "aw, is this too hard for you? Are you too sensitive down here?"

Steve. can't. take. it.

[jeannineee]

ahhh for the smut bingo 2.0 could you do hatefucking with Manon? also I love your blog and your writing so much

Remind Me

Manon Blackbeak x Reader

a/n: based on this bingo card

nsfw under the cut (18+ please)

“Just my fucking luck,” you muttered as Manon stepped out onto the balcony, the sounds of celebration and music audible from just inside the palace.

“Cope,” Manon said simply, leaning against the rail.

Despite the anger boiling in you at her presence, you stole a glance at her. Her creamy, soft skin. Her long, white hair hanging loosely down her back—

No.

“Don’t you have better things to do, than stand out here and bother me?” you questioned, now staring up at the moon.

Manon laughed, the sound low and bitter. “Don’t flatter yourself into thinking anything I do is related to you.”

You ignored her. Ignored her face. Her intoxicating smell. Her perfect body.

“Aww, did I strike a nerve?” she mocked, taking a couple steps toward you. “Poor y/n.”

“Fuck you,” you spat, glowering at her.

“Hmm…” Manon hummed, eyes boring into yours as she looked down at you. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You scowled, trying to brush off her tone of voice, and the way she sent heat pooling at your core.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to say it. I can smell you,” Manon declared, shrugging.

“Fuck you,” you said again.

Manon bared her teeth in a smile that held no warmth. “Can’t you come up with something different? Or are you just that stupid?”

You glared, face heating with anger. “I hate you.”

Manon didn’t flinch. Didn’t so much as blink. “Is that so?”

Before you could react, she flipped you around, your stomach harshly pressing into the balcony railing as she hiked your dress up over your hips. She dragged a finger through your slit, reveling in the mewl that fell from your lips.

“Can’t hate me that much, if you’re this wet,” Manon mused, teasing her finger at your entrance.

Someone could walk outside, see the two of you—

You bit down a moan as she slid her finger into you, pumping slowly.

“What? Dumb little slut can’t speak?” Manon teased, before adding a second finger. “Come on. Remind me how much you hate me.”

You stifled the moaning that threatened to rip from your throat, gripping the balcony so tightly your knuckles turned white. “I fuck—fucking hate you, Manon.”

Manon used her free hand to pull your hair, craning your neck as she whispered in your ear, “The way you’re squeezing my fingers tells me otherwise.” She curled her fingers against your sweet spot over and over, bringing her other hand to your clit, circling the nub quickly.

Your legs were shaking, whimpers falling from your lips as you neared your orgasm.

“I can feel you,” Manon whispered, increasing her pace. “Come for me.”

You cried out her name as your release barreled through you, her fingers still working you through the aftershocks. When she finally pulled away, she turned you around, readjusted your dress, and licked her fingers clean.

“Remind me again, how much you hate me?”

You didn’t reply, too stunned to speak.

Manon tutted. “Thought so.”

She went back inside without another word.

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Familia mea mea est domus – My family is my home

I loved @mistydeyes medical checkup thingy here and got a little inspired, so thanks for that, hun

Unedited because I wrote this on a whim

Tagging my usuals that asked, just because: @glitterypirateduck @letsreadallday @jamesrifftapes @sofasoap @mmyrrhh

A soft knock on his office's door made Price look up briefly.

''Come in''

The door opened swiftly, even before the last word was uttered, and Riot stepped inside, closing behind her hurriedly. Then, without asking, she all but collapsed on the chair in front of him.

''Oh, good you're here, I need clarification on what this means, my German is a bit rusty...'' Price leaned back in his chair, leaving his fountain pen and looking up again, but the slight grin on his face disappeared when he saw her eyes.

Her haunted, wide eyes.

''Kid''

Riot's blue-gray eyes - no, Christine's - looked straight into his, unblinking, and he noticed that just as she sat down, her right knee had started bouncing wildly.

''I have my physical checkup'' Even her voice sounded lower than normal, strained, controlled. ''In half an hour''

''I know'' Price nodded, still lost about what could have happened. ''What's the matter, kid?''

''Can you come with me?''

''... what?''

She moved slightly in the chair, visibly uncomfortable, but her eyes didn't waver and still stared at him, desperate, pleading.

''In my file there's specifications that say I only want female personnel in the physical checkup'' When Price nodded again, Christine tried to overcome the knot in her throat. ''I was just there. There's only male personnel working at the moment. They told me Dr. Benítez was on break and wouldn't be back till noon''

''Can't they move your appointment to when she's in?'' Price was already shutting down his laptop, knowing where this was going, and feeling the exasperation boiling inside. Fucking idiots everywhere.

''They said I could either do the checkup now with the personnel that was in or they would put in my file that I refused to do it'' Christine's voice was even lower now, her fingers tapping furiously on her thighs, and her right knee still bouncing. ''Price, I can't...''

Half an hour later, Price was sitting uncomfortably right in front of the door of the room where Dr. Benitez and a female nurse were performing the physical exam on Sgt. Vega. It had cost him only five minutes of raising his voice at the incompetent idiot in charge of the clinic for the day, and a personal call to Dr. Benitez's phone (who had been appalled by the situation and cut her break short, God blessed that woman, and told off herself the idiots at the reception).

''I know. I'll fix this'' Price stood up and walked around his desk to offer his hand to her. ''Come on, kid, we're gonna give them a piece of our minds''

*

To pass the time, he had sent a text to Heather, explaining the situation, and her answer had been almost instant, and indignant.

I personally put in her file she was NOT to be examined physically by any male presenting person. I'm going to raise hell at whoever is ignoring the personal notes in people's files.

Great, now Heather was in the warpath too. Sighing, Price was about to put his phone away when he got a message from Nikolai, some stupid short video of something he had found on the internet.

For a second he considered telling him, but decided against it. There was no need to have an angry Russian mercenary storming into the base demanding to behead someone for upsetting his solnysh... solhn... his sunshine.

Price also wondered why she hadn't asked Soap or Gaz, or Ghost, but was still musing over it when the door opened and Christine stepped out, talking with Dr. Benitez.

It was like night and day. Now she looked her usual self, or at least her usual masking self, chatty and bright, confident and brilliant. Dr. Benitez nodded at Price and then went back inside, and Christine walked over to him as he stood up.

''All set, kid?''

''All set, sir'' She smiled, and then offered him a lollipop. Price stared at it for a second and then at her eyes, unable to avoid grinning when he saw the usual mischief in there. How in the world he had ended with two Soap in the same unit was beyond him, but it made him feel thankful everyday.

''Really? A lollie?''

''She gave me one and I asked for another one for you'' Christine shrugged, with a cheeky grin. He noticed with sadness how the left corner of her lips was uneven, twisted due to the scar, but he admired her 'fuck it all' attitude about it and her refusal to wear her mask most of the time.

''Oh, thank you then'' Price accepted the lollipop and both unwrapped them as they walked to the exit. ''I'm glad I was still around to come with you. I bet if Ghost, Soap and Gaz had arrived sooner from the drill with the rookies they would have been happy to accompany you''

Christine hummed quietly, enjoying the lollipop, but when he finished talking she looked up at him.

''They were already back when I asked you''

Price opened the door for her, and stared at her hair as she stepped out. She had gone to him, for support and safety, even when she could have chosen any of the other Sergeants or Ghost. Price was well aware of the something brewing between the Lieutenant and her, and that her and Soap were practically siblings, and that Gaz and her were thick as thieves too... but still, she had sought him out instead of them... His heart swelled.

''Alright, sunshine'' Price ruffled her hair playfully, grinning when she protested. ''I think we've earned a coffee. Let's go find the rest of the muppets. My treat''

[babybatscreationsv2]

Krampus

Marvel | Starker

It's Christmas and Tony still likes his games. But things are different now. The two are closer. And just maybe Peter is getting a little more in the spirit of things.

Rating: Explicit

Third in the Holiday Horrors series

Forever for and inspired by my muse, H <3

Warnings and tags below

Warnings/tags: con-noncon, scary mask, primal play, fear kink, crying, begging, violent/gory thoughts, knotting, monster fucking, painful sex, spanking/caning, victim blaming

The cold air bit his cheeks. Peter huffed out a breath and watched the cloud drift away. He glanced at May waiting in the driveway and gave her a reassuring smile. Tony never made him wait like this. In fact, where was Jarvis? He wiggled his toes in his boots and wished for the millionth time that he had something warmer for his feet. Then the door opened.

"Finally," Peter huffed. "Where were you?"

Tony leaned out the door and gave May a wave. "I was just making sure everything was ready. I didn't realize how cold it was."

Peter came inside and kicked off his snow damp boots. Tony took his coat from his shoulders as he unzipped.

"You didn't have to get me anything," he said alluding to the little wrapped gift Peter set on the shoe bench.

"Of course I didn't have to." Peter rolled his eyes. He picked the box back up while Tony hung his coat on the hook. He melted when Tony turned and looked at him, eyes dark and hungry.

"You could just let me unwrap you." He moved in, hands going around Peter's waist.

"Let you?" Peter teased. Tony grinned as he leaned in for a kiss. It was surprisingly quick for Tony who usually indulged until Peter's brain melted into submissive sludge and ended up on his knees. Instead, Tony took him by the hand and pulled him into the living room.

They sat on the couch under the twinkling lights of the Stark's oversized Christmas tree. Tony had laid out the table with drinks and snacks. A single present sat under the tree. Tony leaned back against the couch with an arm draped lazily along the back.

"Aren't you gonna open up your present?" he asked.

Excitement rang in his chest and he couldn't help but smile. Peter set Tony's gift down and went to collect his own from the tree. It was surprisingly big. He'd half expected something horny like a pair of handcuffs. Or, he shivered, another creepy mask.

He brought the box back to the couch and set it on his lap. Tony picked up his present. Then they both tore into the paper together. Peter only grew more excited as he realized what he was holding.

"Tony! This is way too much," Peter gasped. He pushed away the rest of the paper to look at the Lego set in his hands. The AT-AT figure was almost seven thousand pieces and he knew it cost a small fortune. He'd never even considered asking May for it.

Tony was quiet. Peter looked away from the box. He blushed as he saw him holding the little ring box Peter had given him. The ring inside was a simple silver band with their names engraved on the inside.

"It's not much, but what do you get the guy who has everything?" Peter laughed.

Tony looked at him. His eyes were soft. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

"I thought it was subtle enough that your friends wouldn't see if you didn't want them too."

"Why wouldn't I want them to see?"

Peter swallowed. It wasn't like Tony was never nice to him, but he was almost uncomfortably sincere.

"Did you like your present?" Tony asked him.

"I did. Thank you!"

"Yeah, I'm pretty great at buying gifts." He smirked.

Peter rolled his eyes. He set the box aside and turned toward his boyfriend. "Maybe I should show you my gratitude." He gave him a sultry look, eyes running down to his lap.

Tony's hand caressed his face. His fingers tugged gently on his hair. "Actually, I thought we could play a game."

"A game?" Peter shivered. That only meant one thing to Tony.

"Yeah," he smirked. He leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. "Close your eyes and wait right here."

"Okay..." Anxiety boiled in his belly, but he closed his eyes. Peter sat back against the couch as he felt Tony leave. He tried to follow his footsteps with his ears, but he quickly went silent. As if he was stalking him. As if he were stalking prey. Peter shivered. Then he gasped, jolting forward in his seat, as the power went out.

He heard the electric whir of power draining from the room around him. The lights on the Christmas tree were the only thing still running. They must have had some sort of battery backup.

"Tony?" Peter stood up from the couch and looked around. It was so dark. Everything around him was cast in shadow. The light coming from the windows was a soft, wintery blue. Evening had set in while they opened their gifts. Tony always had perfect timing. He wouldn't doubt he made him wait out in the cold on purpose just to make sure it was dark.

At least, he was pretty sure the breaker box was in the garage. That meant if he ran now, he could find somewhere to hide before Tony came back in. If he hadn't snuck in while Peter was processing that is.

So he ran.

He stuck to the carpet as much as he could to muffle his footsteps, then he took the stairs two at a time. At least he was more athletic than he looked. Tony made sure he got a lot of exercise. Peter wasn't sure he knew how to have sex without having a wrestling match first.

He didn't know the upstairs that well, but he was pretty sure Tony's bedroom was not the place to go. So he went the opposite way. He ducked in the second door off the hall and found a guest bedroom. He opened up the closet door, but it was too empty. Instead he tucked himself under the bed.

His heart was loud in his ears. His neck was throbbing as his pulse raged. A guilty twinge bothered his stomach as he realized the throbbing wasn't just in his neck.

It was silent for a long time. Then he heard soft footsteps in the hall and a sound like something being dragged. A door opened, then it was quiet. A few minutes later, the door opened to the room he was hiding in.

"Peter," Tony purred. He shivered as he realized his voice was muffled. Was he wearing the mask? His shadow moved from the doorway to the closet first. Peter couldn't tell what he was dragging, but it was definitely something.

"You've been awfully naughty this year," Tony teased. "Getting off on being scared. Letting boys chase you through the woods and fuck you in public." He came to a stop at the end of the bed. Peter stared at his feet, praying for him not to look down.

"I think you're due for a punishment like all naughty little boys."

He walked away from the bed. Peter almost let out a breath. Then Tony leaned down and looked under the bed.

Peter screamed.

The mask on his face was hairy like an animal. The eyes were blood red. The teeth were big and sharp. On either side of his head were horns like a goat. Peter scrambled out from under the bed, hitting his head in the process. He looked around, but the only place to go was into the en suite.

Tony was right behind him. He was grabbed before he could get his barring. Tony grabbed him by the back of his neck and pushed him forward forcing him down against the counter top. Peter reached for anything he could grab, but there was nothing but the sink.

Tony grabbed his jeans and yanked them down along with his underwear. He kicked at him and Tony grabbed his balls, not painfully but enough that he froze. Once he was still, Tony started to message them between his fingers. Peter moaned, legs spreading apart.

"Don't get too excited," Tony chuckled. "Being a whore is what got you into this mess."

"Let me go," Peter tried. He pushed against the counter.

Tony grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face up to look in the mirror. He shivered at the creepy mask. "You have to be punished first, Petey. Where's your Christmas spirit?"

Tony lifted his arm. Peter barely had time to see the thin stick in his hand before he swung it down. He gasped, pain barely registering before he struck him again. On the second hit he screamed.

"Don't be a baby," Tony mocked. "It could be so much worse."

Despite his teasing, tears formed in his eyes as Tony spanked him. He whimpered with each strike. Peter kicked his feet as it became too much. Tony forced him down with all his weight and kept going until his ass felt raw and he was gasping for breath. Then he let him go.

He realized when his pants caught on his ankles and he fell face first onto the floor. Still he kept moving, crawling away from the creature and his horrible red eyes.

"Where ya going, Pete?" Tony's voice was mocking as he followed him. They both knew he wasn't going to get far. He let him crawl all the way to the bedroom door before he pounced on him. Then Tony flipped him over and showed him what he had in his hand.

The thing he'd been dragging around was a big sack, like one Santa Claus would carry. He forced it over his head and stuffed him inside. That awful sharp toothed grin was the last thing he saw. Peter struggled, but Tony pulled the sack down to his waist and pulled the cord tight until it dug into his skin. He tied it there, trapping him. All he could do was shove uselessly against the fabric. The cord dug into his skin, not painful but tight enough to feel claustrophobic. It didn't loosen as he pushed and pulled. The best he could do was slide it down his waist and crawl further into the sack.

"You'd better calm down, sweetheart. You only have so much air in there and I still haven't finished your punishment."

Peter whimpered. "Please! Let me out!"

Tony finished stripped his lower half bare. Now that he was trapped, he took his time with him. He slapped his already raw ass, making him sob. Then he forced his legs apart. Peter gasped as he touched his cock.

"You might want me to let you out, but this little thing doesn't," Tony teased. Peter moaned as he stroked him slowly. "I think you like being kidnapped and raped by monsters."

"No please," Peter sobbed. He struggled some more and he didn't stop until something pushed against his hole.

Tony chuckled. "Such a fucking slut. Is that all it takes? I'm not even inside you yet."

Peter tried to fight again out of sheer pride, but Tony's cock pushed inside and the pleasure that coursed through him had him paralyzed. He moaned as he filled him up. He laid his head down, drooling into the fabric as Tony slowly, deliciously, pushed all the way in then all the way bad out. Then something touched his ass in a way that startled him.

"Tony?"

"Shh, just take it," he coaxed. Something much wider than Tony's cock was forcing its way inside, but that didn't make any sense because Tony was still inside him.

"Wh- what is- that," Peter choked on his own words as Tony pushed against his hole, stretching him open.

"It's a knot," Tony said. He sounded amused by his cries. "Crazy what you can find on the internet. Wanted to make sure you got the full monster fucking experience."

Finally the widest part was in and the rest followed. Peter moaned, brain completely shut down by sensation. Tony's cock was too deep, the knot was too wide, his tender ass was pressed against the floor, and a firm hand was pinning him down. He hadn't even realized he'd been struggling.

Tony moved his hips and the knot seemed stuck fast as if he might never get it back out. Tony chuckled. "Since you're trapped on my dick, might as well see that pretty face of yours." The cord loosened. Peter lifted himself up so Tony could pull the sack off.

"There are those pretty tears." Peter shivered as Tony stared down at him through the mask. He grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them over his head, leaning forward until their faces were inches apart.

The knot pushed at his hole. Peter whined, more tears coming to eyes. "Please," he sobbed.

Tony moaned, pushing the knot back in. "You're always such a perfect victim."

"It's too big," Peter gasped. Tony moved his hips and the knot pushed against his hole again. It felt way too big to come out. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten the damn thing inside him.

"Poor Petey," Tony teased. "It's not cumming out until you cum on it."

"I can't," he whined. "That mask..."

"You want me to take it off?"

"Please, Tony."

"Give it a kiss."

"What? No!" Peter gasped. Just looking at those bloody teeth made his stomach hurt.

"Kiss it," Tony said more firmly.

"No..."

"Go on. Give Krampus a kiss and I'll let you go."

Peter whined, but he lifted his head up. His whole body shuddered. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips against the rubber mouth. Tony laughed.

"That's my boy." He pulled the mask off his head and fixed his flatted hair. Tony's eyes were glittering. His smile was fiendish. "Now, where were we?"

Tony rolled his hips, fucking him deep, knot pushing at his entrance while the tip of his cock pushed into his guts. Peter moaned, eyes rolling in his head. He was lost in sensation, mouth hanging open, drool on his face, Tony cruel grin staring down at him.

"I'm gonna cum," Peter whined.

"You're such a slut," Tony chuckled. "You love being scared don't you?"

"No..."

"If you don't like it then why are you about to cum on my knot, Pete? You know Krampus eats little liars like you. Maybe I should take a bite."

Peter gasped. He could just imagine the gore of Tony tearing into him with those awful teeth. He shivered down to his toes. Then he came, straining against Tony's grip, hips bucking but the pain of Tony's knot was gone for the moment.

Tony kissed his sweaty forehead. "That's my good little victim," he purred.

Peter almost screamed as Tony forced the knot from his ass. Tears ran down his cheeks. Tony swiped his tongue over his face, licking them away. His eyes were so wild, so excited. It made his skin burn with terror because he knew Tony and he knew that look meant he wasn't getting out of this easily.

He sobbed, whimpering as Tony pushed it back in. He shivered at the sound of Tony's moan. There was one way out of the pain and overstimulation.

"Please, Tony," he begged, eyes wide and wet. "Please, it hurts..." Tony groaned and Peter bit back a smile. "Please stop, please! It's too much. You're hurting me!"

"Fuck," Tony groaned in answer. Peter only cried more as he fucked him faster. When he squeezed around him it made the pain worse but it was worth it as he watched Tony lose control, spurred on by his whimpering, by the way he struggled beneath him as if he might try to crawl away. Then he slammed his hips against him, cumming hard, leaning down to kiss Peter's lips, his jaw, his neck, frantic with pleasure.

He let go of Peter's wrists and Peter wrapped his arms around him. "I liked that game." He kissed Tony's cheek as his weight settled against him. Peter laughed. "I think you did, too."

After a moment of rest, Tony lifted his head and grinned at him. "Maybe we should go another round then."

"No, I'm so sore," Peter pouted.

"Are you trying to tempt me?" Tony nipped the side of his neck.

"No, I'm serious. You really hurt me." He stuck his lip out further to really emphasize his pout.

Tony kissed him. "You really are a perfect little fear slut." Then he laughed. "The knot still has to come out, you know."

Peter whimpered. "You're gonna be the one to call May and tell her I can't make it home tonight. Because I'm not gonna be able to walk tomorrow."

Tony was all smiles. "I fail to see the problem there, sweetheart.”

[theladycarpathia]

“What are you?” Billy demands, finger already resting on the trigger. He’s glad that Max isn’t here, that he left her at the diner doing research. Because the man in their motel room has  broken past the hex marks, the warding, every anti-demon trick that they ever learned from their parents or from Hopper. He’s sitting on Billy’s bed, flicking through Billy’s mom’s journal like he has the right, and the sight of her neat writing under his long fingers makes Billy’s blood boil with rage. 

“Hey, I could be a hunter for all you know,” the man says easily. He looks completely normal, with soft brown hair falling into his dark brown eyes and brushing the top of his blue polo shirt. But Billy snorts - since he came back from Hell, he’s all too good at sensing when something isn’t quite human. And despite the pink tongue brushing that full bottom lip, the mismatched socks poking out from clean white sneakers, Billy knows that this thing isn’t human.

“You’re not,” Billy says in a low voice, aiming right for the center of its forehead. “You’re the thing that’s been following us since I got topside. The gas station, that motel in Utah, the car radio. So I’ll ask again - what the fuck are you?”

But the man looks up with a bright smile. “You knew that was me?” he asks, sounding genuinely pleased. 

“It had to have been you,” Billy mutters, unwilling to admit the truth. Hell changed him so much, giving him extra edges, and sharpening the ones he already had. He feels the trickle of cold down his neck at every demon that walks by, the bile that rises in his throat in the presence of a witch. And since he rose, there’s always been something following him that makes him feel…

Billy swallows. He doesn’t want to react to this creature.

“I’m only asking once more,” he spits, taking a step to the side to get a better shot. “What are you?”

“Steven,” the thing answers, and carefully closes the journal. “You can call me Steven.”

Billy pauses. Right. Not exactly the name of a monster that he was expecting. 

“That doesn’t really answer my question,” he says, but Steven doesn’t seem to care. He places the journal back where he’d found it, tucked inside Billy’s duffel, and rises from the bed.

“Your mother was a gifted hunter,” Steven muses, eyes flicking around the motel room like he’s in a museum staring at a particularly interesting exhibit. Billy’s leather jacket, the badly hidden porn mags (he still has to share a room with Max after all, it’s not like they have the funds for two rooms,) the packet of nicotine patches. “You take after her.”

“What the fuck do you know about my mother?” Billy says, stunned. He hasn’t seen his mother since he was seven, the day she walked out. It turns out that between her father and the demons, the demons were the monsters that she could take. He’s been hunting with Max for five years now, ever since she was old enough to, and they’ve never once caught a break. Abigail Hargrove seemingly vanished off the face of the Earth.

“She’s not dead, if that’s what you mean,” Steven says, looking away from Billy’s Led Zeppelin t-shirt. Billy’s breath catches in his throat. 

“What?” he breathes. He’s spent so long….in every town they visit, in every state, he hunts in the local directory searching for her name. It occurred to him long ago that maybe she changed it, wanting to be sure that Neil couldn’t find her. But it was also ensuring that her son couldn’t find her. And that hurt.

“Oh, she’s alive,” Steven says easily.  “And hiding. Your father wasn’t the only reason she had to leave. There’s a powerful demon out there…I believe you’ve met the Yellow Eyed demon already?”

“Vecna,” Billy says, mouth sour with every syllable. That fucker had already toyed with him, and especially with Max when he’d been gone. Vecna had invaded her every nightmare, and even her waking moments, taunting her with the idea that it was her fault that Billy was dead, that she could have done more.

It was all lies. Billy would have died to save Max a thousand times over. Even if he’d ended up spending a thousand years in hell, Max is all the family he has. 

Or so he thought. 

“Yes,” Steven agrees darkly. “I’m afraid that he has plans for you and Maxine…and your mother.”

“Can we find her?” Billy asks desperately. He barely remembers her but he still dreams of the floral perfume he used to wear, her favorite sunhat dangling from her fingers, how she’d sing the Beach Boys around the house. But then she was gone and the singing stopped.

He loves her. He misses her. He hates her. He wants to know more than anything why she’d left him behind.

But maybe she didn’t have any choice. 

“We can,” Steven says firmly.  “We have to. Vecna wants to open the gates to Hell into this world and we don’t have a lot of time to stop him.”

“And we’re the ideal candidates for world saving?” Billy snorts, glad for a reason to pull his eyes away from Steven’s. It’s probably just a meat suit and if so, Billy has no right to be admiring the thick lashes of some possessed bastard. “Hate to tell you this but you’ve got the wrong people. I just got back from Hell and Max is all sorts of fucked up about it. We’re your regular salt and burn hunters, okay? We’re not heroes.”

“I disagree,” Steven says, tilting his head like he can’t quite work Billy out. “No matter what you think, you are worth it. And the only hope the Earth has is you and Maxine. That is why I pulled you from Hell.”

Billy blinks and then suddenly, Steven is standing right in front of him, having cleared the whole room in less than a second. Billy swallows. Fuck. This thing is so, so powerful. They’d thought as much, from what Murray had told them…but shit. 

“You did…what?” Billy croaks. They’d always wondered what the fuck had pulled him from Hell. Honestly, he’d half expected Max or someone to have pulled some shit to get him out. A crossroads demon, or Yellow Eyes perhaps. He didn’t know anything else was capable of breaching Hell, all to rescue one human. 

He raises the gun - the one that he’d forgotten about in all this and had let fall to his side - and aims it once more at the thing’s chest. 

“I’m going to ask once more, Stevie,” he says, in the calmest voice he can manage, even though every inch of him is trembling in fear. “What are you?”

The room almost closes in, like every piece of oxygen has been sucked out of it. Or maybe it doesn’t get smaller, maybe the creature in front of him gets bigger. The lights flicker furiously overhead and the shitty TV crackles and then explodes. Billy shields his face from the sparks, cursing internally. Shit. They’ll have to leave before they get charged for that.

When he looks back at Steve, he doesn’t know if this is the most frightening or most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The deep brown eyes are now glowing with an other-worldly blue, the same color light that ripples under his skin.

“I don't really have time for your bullshit now, William Hargrove,” Steven says, stepping so close to Billy that he can feel the sparks off his skin. There are large shadows unfurling and spreading across the wall behind him, visible in the flickering lights. For a moment, Billy can’t make out what they are but when he does, it upends everything he thought he knew about the world and the monsters in it. They’re wings. 

“I’m an angel of the Lord,” Steve says somberly. “And we have work for you.”

[breakcut]

“Follow. Your fucking. Leader!” (Oh shit the Dweet *never* swears and he’s never arrogant so this is … gonna be interesting. Shit got real I guess to push him to that point - probs just reached his limit of dealing with overprivileged survivors lmAOOO. Your choice of muse 🖤)

Min looks at the young man with a raised eyebrow, “MY leader?” She crosses her arms, inching closer to him, her nostrils flaring as anger boils inside of her. “You couldn’t lead me down a one way street!” She points an accusatory finger at him, inches away from his face, hers contorting into a teary-eyed, angry facade. “If I followed you,” a single tear flows down her cheek, “I would be butchered by some masked fuck.”