#Devil: Marvel AU .

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

The Backwoods AU

A Special Sort of Craving (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)

The Detour (Thor, MCU)

The Stranger (Chris, Destroyer)

Forget-Me-Not (Loki, MCU)

The Farmer’s Daughter (Walter Marshall, Night Hunter)

The Rebound (Curtis Everett, Snowpiercer)

Second Best (Lee Bodecker, The Devil All the Time)

Crossed Wires (Andy Barber, Defending Jacob & Cole Turner, Ghosted)

Daddy Lesson (Rafe Cameron, OBX, Outer Banks)

All Things End (Arvin Russell, The Devil All the Time)

THTH (Ransom Drysdale, Knives Out)

Called To Duty (Captain Syverson, Sand Castle)

Unmanageable (Pete Brenner, Pain Hustlers)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Devil Wears Armani 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you’re the CEO’s new PA and you find the work too much to handle. (short!reader)

Characters: Tony Stark, this reader is known as Georgie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

---posting to the correct blog lol---

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

After the week you’ve had, the need for a strong drink is irresistible. You’re almost there. Friday. You just need to make it through the day. There’s only one obstacle in your way. Mr. Stark. 

You bring him his ritualistic cafe au lait just after noon. He has an airpod in his ear, chattering on a call as he clicks around his floating computer screen. You keep your head down, making yourself invisible as you place the cup on a coaster. He leans back in his white leather chair as he speaks, reaching quickly for the coffee. 

“Yeah, Rogers, maybe, I don’t know about you but I’m not looking to invest right now. I got enough eggs to hatch...” Stark sips as he rests his other hand on his thigh.  

Before you can retreat, your eyes flick over and see the moving image on the monitor. You don’t react. You just backpedal and return to your desk, gently closing the door as to not disturb your call. You might commend him for multitasking if it wasn’t so inappropriate. 

You cup your chin and zero in on your screen, fighting the images seared into your eyes. The woman’s ass spread wide as the man... nope. Not today. 

Mr. Stark’s reputation is less than pristine. Everyone knows how he is but he’s the CEO. Who’s going to say anything? Or do anything? Coming into the role, you expected a demanding workload and a finicky boss, but not everything else. Not the blatant disregard for others and brazen lack of shame. 

You glance over at his door before you dare to take out your phone. You lay it next to your keyboard and keep your hand under your chin. You look down as you press to unlock and read the messages from the other girls. Izzie can’t make it, she’s out in the field, but the others are down. Awesome. 

You scroll through the gif catalogue and send a celebratory reaction. Mr. Stark’s door startles you and you slide your phone up under your monitor stand to try to hide it. You put your attention back to the calendar and swoop your mouse around the pad. 

Stark approaches as he slurps loudly over the brim of his cup. You feel the weight of his gaze and meet it shyly, pushing your glasses up your nose as you sit up. You can’t quite smile as your jaw locks up. 

“Sir?” You greet him in confusion. 

“So, Friday,” his brown eyes dip down to consider the depths of the mug, “got any exciting plans?” 

You look left then right and back at him. Your brow twitches in surprised confusion. Mr. Stark never asks about your personal life. He only ever talks about his private jet and high-life getaways to locations you could never dream of. Your cocktails are meagre compared to his elite lifestyle. 

“No, sir,” you say. “How about you?” 

He smirks and tilts his head. He slowly prowls around your desk and you swivel your chair to face him as he nears the corner to your right. You tilt to look up at him. 

“Ah, the usual, there’s this sweet little blonde thing down in Barbados waiting for me,” he chuckles as his eyes rove over your desk, “no dates? No... partying?” 

“Sir, I... just errands.” 

“Uh huh,” he clucks and reaches for your mouse. Nope. He swerves and swipes up your phone as it lights up beneath the stand. Shoot. “Social hour, huh?” 

“No, sir. I just shut off an alarm and forgot--” 

“You’re a bad liar, stop it,” he warns as he brings your phone up and reads the messages popping up, “girls’ night?” He looks at you over the cell, “that sounds like more than errands to me.” 

“Well, sir, I didn’t think... it was important.” 

“Must be if you’re texting at work,” he tosses the phone at you and you catch it as it lands in your lap. “You been to Barbados?” 

“Barbados? No?” You answer dumbly, no expecting the question. 

“Wanna go?” 

You hesitate. Is this some trick? It’s like when he was taunting Walker last week, baiting him into giving answers that made him look stupid.

“Sir, maybe one day, I guess, I never thought--” 

“No thinking. I know you’re not that fucking simple,” he reaches to poke your forehead and your recoil. “Don’t get too fucking crazy tonight, sweetheart, jet takes off at six. In the morning.” 

You frown and shake your head. He can’t mean what you think. 

“Should I have your luggage--” 

“Be there,” he demands and gulps back a mouthful. He slams down the empty mug on your desk and backs up, “if you’re still thirsty, they got cocktails on the plane.” 

He turns and strides away, whistling as he checks his watch. He sighs as he approaches the office door, pausing, “when Odinson gets here, make sure he has everything he needs.” He glances back with a smirk as you peer around your monitor, “and smile, sweetheart, you got nice lips.” 

You stare after him as he closes his office door and you sit back. You chew your thumb and look down at your phone. You sniff as you watch the others messages stream over the screen. Now you know better than to have your phone out at work. Now you get to do overtime. Fun. 

You rub your cheek and roll close to your desk. You’re not going to miss tonight, even if Mr. Stark wants to take away your weekend. You’ve been waiting for this and you need the boost before you face whatever he has planned.  

A message blips up in the corner and you click it, not daring to ignore Mr. Stark’s icon. The window spreads over the screen and the message floats over the reply bar. ‘Don’t forget a bikini’. 

Huh? 

[drempen]

Playing with some May-hem designs :3c

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

I’m the devil

Summary: So you told Wanda your secret and you realised the intense feelings you had for the woman, hopefully she reciprocated them

Warnings: Minors DNI, feelings, and a little sappiness from both sides

Words: 2,700 (I think)

A/n: not proofread properly, I’m tired 😂

Part 1 here

Flashback

You were bored, plain and simple, bored and horny? You couldn’t tell anymore but what you did know was that being the devil on earth wasn’t nearly as fun as you thought it would be

“Nat what’s on the agenda for today?” You spun your chair to your red headed demon pal who just shrugged “I’m not your assistant”

“But you are the greatest demon assistant in the entire world!” You grinned wide at the woman who just threw her muffin at you “hey that was $7! Don’t throw expensive food”

“You-

“Wait! Shut up for 5 minutes, I found her” you pointed her towards the other side of the road where a young woman was walking to what looked like an apartment complex

“She looks weak Y/n what do you want with her? Surely just take the brother for the debt instead?”

“I tried that but they offered her up so easily, ‘take our daughter please’ don’t take our son he’s the favourite’ pathetic actually, yep just give up your young daughter to the devil, she is very pretty though, which makes this all the better, now come on I don’t have all day”

“Yes boss”

End of flashback

“That was amazing!” Carol lay back on the couch satisfied and happy “you’re way too preppy for a demon sometimes Carol, anyway I’ve go to go, can you carry on with manning the young demons while I do something”

Carol sat up pouting “can’t we cuddle?”

You scoffed “what are we, 10? I’m not cuddling you we have jobs to do, now get out I’m bringing Wanda back through here and you scare her”

“Scare her? She’s a dirty human she doesn’t matter here”

You stopped in your tracks turning back to Carol and giving her a hard glare “Carol I won’t hesitate to send you back to hell and clean up after the demon dogs”

Your threat made Carol sink back into the couch “sorry, I’ll go”

You nodded “good” leaving her alone you straightened yourself checking your phone “only been an hour, she can’t have done much damage”

You walked back through the place and to your art studio unlocking the door finding Wanda still sat where she was but now painting a sunset? It looked like that anyway, it looked beautiful that’s what you definitely knew

“I didn’t try to run away” we’re the first words out of her mouth and you had to laugh “obviously you couldn’t escape Wanda, because of you did the rest of the gang would’ve gotten you first, now come on I’m getting you some dinner”

“What are you?” It was an innocent enough question but not something you wanted to discuss on the first day, or did you? Maybe she’d listen to you, maybe submit to you? Women like bad girls right?

You simply smiled “do you really want to know?”

Wanda wasn’t too sure anymore, why were you being so cryptic “I do…I think”

You sat down in front of Wanda and took a hold of her hands “you’re not stupid, you know there’s supernatural beings on earth don’t you?”

She nodded “it’s a little strange but yeah I do know that”

You continued “okay so there’s the devil, they’re real too” Wanda rolled her eyes “pretty sure the devil can’t leave hell since he was banished there”

“So you think the devil’s a man? That doesn’t seem very feminist of you”

Wanda shrugged “god’s a man and so is the devil, that’s what we learnt at home, but either way I don’t think they’d come to earth”

You chuckled pulling Wanda and her chair closer to you and keeping a tight grip on her hands knowing how people get when they see you properly

“What are yo-what the hell?! Wanda couldn’t move as she stared at your new appearance, horns protruding from your head and your skin a deep red, some small parts of your face were showing bone as of you were disintegrating and Wanda couldn’t help but stare intrigued and a little frightened

“Are you the devil?” Her voice whispered and you nodded “in the flesh, or most of it anyway”

“Why are you on earth?” Wanda whispered still admiring your face and horns “truthfully I got bored of overseeing the tortured souls and demons of hell, and in typical fashion when one comes to New York I set up a loaning business, then bought a night club”

Wanda raised her eyebrow in question “you mean LUX? The place that moved here from LA?”

You laughed “the very same, keeping tabs on me?”

“No I remembered my parents saying they’d like to go in an- oh”

“Oh?”

Wanda removed her hands from yours and stood up “my parents went into your club and now they owe money but instead gave you me”

You changed back to your human self standing up with Wanda making her look at you, the small amount of times you met her parents you thought they were pieces of shit “I’ll be honest Wanda I wanted to take your brother, hell the debt isn’t even that high and they could’ve payed it easily but they offered you up so quickly, tell me why”

Wanda didn’t notice herself crying again, she hated how much she was doing that lately, when you wiped her tears away she pushed herself from you “my brother is the favourite and always will be, it’s just something I have to live with”

You didn’t push her, you’d deal with the family later, humans were horrible creatures sometimes, you wondered why god even made them “okay, now that all that’s over with, how about some dinner? To lighten the mood”

“Can you even eat?” That made her laugh a little and you rolled your eyes happy to see her laughing “yes you weirdo I can eat, now what do you want?”

Wanda thought about it “Chinese?”

“Okay I’ll send Nat out for some”

Wanda sucked in a breath “she scares me”

You laughed “yeah she is scary, but she’s harmless, well to me anyway she won’t dare question me”

“Is she something different too?”

Something different? Yeah definitely how you’d describe Natasha “she’s a demon, my right hand demon basically, she enjoys scaring people, she won’t apologise for pointing a gun at you so probably best to just pretend it never happened”

“Okay”

“Okay, wait here for me, continue your nice painting” your turned her back to her canvas “maybe a few birds to liven the picture up yeah?”

Wanda smiled “yeah and a deer too”

**************************************************

“Nat! Need you to go out for me” you found her doing what she does best, kissing Maria against a wall in public like the exhibitionist she is

“You’re such a cockblock I swear to god” Nat groaned pulling herself away from Maria who just laughed “don’t swear to her dad Nat that’s weird”

“Damn right it is Maria, now Nat go and get my usual from the Chinese place, Wanda needs food and I don’t want to get it myself”

Maria pushed Nat gently and placed her hands on your shoulders “are you falling for the human?”

Your eyes widened “absolutely not! But I’m hungry and obviously she’ll need food too, like I told Nat I’ll break her starting tomorrow, I’m obviously luring her into a false sense of security and comfort, gosh why are you two so annoying about it?!”

Maria eyed you for a few moments before releasing you “how about both Nat and I go and get the food and we join you? Make it a cozy dinner between the devil, her human and two of your favourite demons?”

You sighed looking between her and Nat “fine! But Nat leave your gun it scars Wanda”

You didn’t stay long enough to hear any argument from Nat instead going back to your art room where Wanda was just finishing her picture with a couple of deer surrounded by cute robins “that looks amazing Wanda, when it dries we’ll hang it up somewhere, now come on Nat and Maria are getting the food”

“Were you mad when I kissed you?” Why was she full of questions? Why were humans so inquisitive? “You realised I marked your neck don’t you? When you kissed me I would’ve put you on the table and showed you the time of your life, unfortunately stabbing me really kills the mood unless you have a blood kink but I have a feeling that’s not you”

Wanda’s blush was adorable to you, she definitely wasn’t into that stuff, ah well you’d have to do other things together

“No no I don’t like things like that, so anyway you want me then? This whole assistant thing isn’t real and you just want to sleep with me?”

How could you tell her that while you were watching her before taking her, you’d become obsessed with her, she was just adorable, and you were so glad her parents offered her up, you’d wanted her for weeks

You were silent for a while before walking towards Wanda kissing her as soft as the devil could, gently cupping her face as you pulled away looking into her eyes “I hate how much I’m falling for you in such a short period of time, you’re a 3rd place ribbon when I deserve my first place prize money, but I think I prefer this ribbon”

It was her that kissed you this time closing the small gap, a slow kiss but a nice one nonetheless, pulling away you were still cupping her face and her hands were holding your waist, you both enjoyed this comfortable silence when a cough interrupted you making you both jump

“Interesting, the devil and a human? I think this happened once before didn’t it? She died right?”

You turned around keeping Wanda close behind you not letting the man get a glance at her “Tony to what do I owe this awful pleasure?”

“Your strippers at the club miss you, they don’t have anyone to show their moves on anymore, maybe you should go and help them” he laughed but instead of responding how you really wanted to and hit him across the face with fire you simply smiled “very interesting Tony I will look into it and now if you will please leave me and my friend alone”

He looked slightly taken aback, you normally fought back and hard when he turned up, interesting he’d have to remember that “okay well I’ll see you later at the club Y/n, young human hope you have a nice night”

He left without another word and your whole body relaxed, you felt Wanda move around and stand in front of you “strippers?”

You shook your head “they’re not strippers, we have dancers at the club and I’m in charge of making sure they’re okay and if they need anything, nothing seedy”

Wanda laughed “it doesn’t matter, you’re the devil I know you’re probably not a monogamous being” she kissed your cheek and headed for the door waiting for you

You quickly followed her and when she tried to open the door you slammed it shut leaning your body close into her and whispering into her ear “no, no you’re mine and you won’t be treated like some second rate prostitute, this little emotional talk we had where I told you how I feel won’t happen again if you’re not going to take it seriously, got it?”

Wanda was generally stunned in that moment, your eyes turned to their dark red and she didn’t know what to say “I- I I’m sorry” she whispered looking down avoiding your harsh gaze

“Look at me pretty girl” she did so and you offered her a small smile “my pretty assistant, you need to eat, now come on” you kissed her forehead softly manoeuvring you both and leaving the room

Wanda was still a little nervous but relaxed a little when she felt your hand in her own walking through the house, what a fun time she was having, at least she had a partner? Right? Sure let’s call it that

*************************************************

Nat had brought the food you wanted but decided she wanted to sleep with her girlfriend instead of eating with the two of you

“I hope you like Chinese food, I know humans eat anything but they’ve become vegetarian or that vegan thing, I gotta tell you none of it matters, when they come to hell they’ll get raw meat for the rest of eternity”

Wanda took one of the boxes and examining it “I’m not a vegan or vegetarian so it’s okay” she went to sit down at the table but you redirected her “you sit on the table in front of me, cozy”

“Okay”

You sat down with Wanda sat on the table, eating in silence for a while before Wanda stretched her neck “could I sit somewhere properly? My back and neck are getting sore”

“Come here” she shuffled off the table into your arms in a comfortable hug on your lap “are you sleepy honey?”

“Hmm” she hummed letting herself fall asleep in your hold “I’ll take that as a yes” you chuckled to yourself stroking her back in a soothing manner, staying in this position for a while you began closing your eyes drifting off but the door opened and in quickly came Carol

“Y/n! What are you doing?!”

Your father was testing you, you were absolutely being tested and your patience was wearing so fucking thin

You refused to open your eyes but did respond to the shrieking demon “Carol you don’t have to be here so why are you here?”

You sensed another figure enter the room and groaned knowing full well who it was “oh here she is, the king of hell, still trying to take over my domain?”

The woman chuckled settling in the chair next to yours reaching her hand out to touch Wanda’s shoulder making her jolt awake “hi pretty girl, are you okay?”

Wanda glanced up at you seemingly asking for help which you did pulling yourself and Wanda away from the table “If you don’t mind Valkyrie Wanda and I are going to go and get some rest, send my regards to Thor and Loki”

The woman nodded “and what about Hela?”

“Tell her to go fuck herself”

**********************************************

“Here we are my little human” you gently placed Wanda on the new bed and she looked around suspiciously “this isn’t the room i was in earlier?”

“No this is my room, I told you you’re mine, so you’ll never leave my side and this bed is very comfortable”

Wanda sat herself up on the edge of the bed looking around at the minimal decoration around the room “there isn’t much stuff in here”

You hummed turning to your closet removing your blazer “I’m only here at night so I feel no need for sentimental possessions” you finished removing your blazer and just about finished taking your shirt off when you heard Wanda gasp

“Are you okay over there Wanda? Never seen a woman shirtless before?” Chuckling to yourself you didn’t notice Wanda staring at the side of your ribs “what happened to your ribs?”

You looked down realising just how dark your large bruising was “oh yeah I forgot about that, it’s just something from the other day, it doesn’t hurt”

Before you could do anything else Wanda came towards you touching the bruising and you suddenly felt pain and winced “doesn’t hurt? Why’d you flinch?”

You pulled away sharply from her touch “it never hurts, I’m the devil nothing hurts me, how’d you do that?”

Wanda stepped backwards from you scared you were really mad at her “I-I didn’t do anything! I promise!”

“Okay okay let’s just calm down, it’s fine maybe I’m just tired” your gaze landed on a scared looking Wanda and your heart sank, even though it didn’t really work obviously something in you broke

“Hey I promise it’s okay, I am the devil Wanda only god can really hurt me and he’s not gonna do that since he’ll have to look over hell if he does”

Wanda nodded and started playing with her hands, a nervous habit you noticed her doing once in the day “do you need any sleepwear or do you sleep naked?”

The sudden change in conversation made Wanda a little less nervous “erm I think I’d prefer some sleepwear”

You shrugged “suit yourself, here you go” you threw her a shirt that you wore earlier in the day and Wanda looked it over “you want me to wear your top? Like a conquest trophy?”

“Have I not already conquered you?” You disappeared into your closet for a moment and reappearing in a shirt top and boxers?

“Are you wearing boxers? Aren’t they for men?” Wanda had quickly changed into the top you threw her and got under the covers as to keep her modesty

“Clothes aren’t gender orientated Wanda and I like my boxers” you climbed in bed next to her bringing her close to you

“We have a quiet day tomorrow, maybe I’ll get you a cute collar to match your hair” she turned to face you snuggling into your neck “I’m still really really confused about everything and I’m scared”

You let her mould herself into you and felt her heart rate slow as she let sleep take over her body “I’ll take care of you Wanda, you’ll never have to work or worry about anything ever again I promise”

***************************************

[abbatoirablaze]

Deal With The Devil Master List

The five boroughs in New York City are run by the five families.

Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Thor Odinson, Clint Barton, and the most dangerous of all, Steve Rogers.

But that's just where the story begins.

With Steve Rogers. The loud-mouthed kid who's charming, witty, and beyond manipulative.

He knows just how to get what he wants. And after hearing about the newest reason that the boroughs are up in arms, he wants his cut.

Inez Stark.

No one knew that Tony had a younger sister, That is, not until someone from his inner circle let it slip.

Peter's out, because he's Pepper's cousin.

And with Steve, Thor, and Clint all vying for the chance to get into the alliance between Peter and Tony, they all want her hand in marriage.

Only, Tony knows that.

He also knows that he can't protect his baby sister anymore. He has to make a deal with the devil.

Too bad Steve's number 2, Bucky Barnes fell in love with her first.

Chapters

The Hobbit

Negotiations

Expectations

Fiances

The Bachelor Party

Like A Dog

What Family Is For

Know Your Place

Blindfolded

Cuck

The Meaning Behind 'I Do'

Sex On The Beach, And Blitzed On A Binge

Say You Will

Please Stay

[gaysindistress]

My favorite movies are the absolutely unhinged ones that came out in the 90s and the early 2000s. But my all-time favorite is Hellboy and I blame it for my likes page.

We can do better than Ron Pearlman on this blog though, right? Imagine if HYDRA hadn’t turned Bucky into a super soldier but instead turned him into a demon, a Harbinger of the Apocalypse. What if HYDRA had made him into Anung Un Rama?

He would’ve been nicknamed Hellboy, much the same as the demon he’s created to emulate but his true name, Anung Un Rama, is what strikes fear into his enemies’ hearts. He chooses to go by Bucky as a way to feel normal but Hellboy sticks no matter what he tries. He wears hats to cover the shaved horns that adorn his forehead and he keeps his head down when he can’t. He is massive in comparison to his FBI nanny, Sam Wilson, and can take up an entire door frame, making it hard to move around if he’s not careful. His left hand is bionic instead of oversized and stone but it’s still a point of contention for him. It’s one of the first things that people see and they immediately know who he is. When they look up in fear and spot his low-sitting hat or the stumps, they gasp and run away. It’s awful really.

The only person brave enough to stick around is you, मधुर बालिका.

His sweet girl.

It’s gut wrenching what he feels for you. It’s not yearning. No no yearning is far too delicate a word for the ache that you cause inside of him.

What he feels for you is more much disgusting. So much so that he refuses to name and tries desperately to ignore it. But he can’t, not when you’re so willing to accept him, to take him as he is.

Fitting is it not? Anung Un Rama, a creature whose name means “and upon his brow is set a crown of flame” craving a sweet human girl like you?

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest.

[celestialspecial]

Unholy

Devil!BillyRusso x Angel! Female Reader

They say all is revealed in death, but that's just not true. How did this path choose you? And why did you find yourself undeniably drawn to the beacon of sin himself?

Warnings: [18+] unprotected sex, smut, oral (female receiving), sacrilegious acts in a church{oops}, dirty talk, religious mentions

Song List Unholy- {obviously} by Sam Smith/Kim Petras The Devil is a Gentleman by Merci Raines 1121 by Halsey

The heavens had opened up and rain poured in heavy sheets across the bustling streets of the city. It didn’t delay the chaos of humanity, only dwindled it for a moment. 

Thunder boomed in perfect tandem with the downpour, loud enough to rattle windows and set off a few car alarms. Darkness moved in, encasing the streets in night with only the streetlights glimmering off fallen raindrops.

It came in as it always does slowly, etching inch by inky inch in nightfall until everything was cloaked in it. As if the sun had never been up at all. 

Everyone seemed to move fast around you. Hurrying home. Hurrying to the store. Hurrying….just hurrying. But not you.

You moved slowly, delicately, umbrella up, but the rain wouldn’t touch you even without it. Not that anyone would notice, in all their hurrying. A pristine cream colored coat over an equally clean dress.

Your boots splashed up water as you crossed the street, weaving in and out of people covering their heads with newspapers and hoods. A speck of light in a dark cloud. 

Then you felt it. A crack of thunder louder than the last that had dogs barking and children crying out. Forks of lightning illuminated the bleak sky for a second.

Casting a vibrant silhouette over the sidewalk of the church before you. Flying buttresses scaling upwards to the sky. Steeples demanding notice and carved gargoyles and creatures of other worlds climbing the exterior.

As the storm seemed to worsen around you and the sidewalks emptied you sought respite in the opulent building before you. Drawn to it in a way, not to escape the rain, but to explore further.

The door creaked loudly as you pushed it open, falling closed behind you with a boom that echoed inside the expansive interior. High vaulted ceilings and ornate carvings surrounded you. 

The massive church was empty. The only source of light coming from the offering candles that flickered dimly on either side of the aisles and the occasional burst of light from the sky outside.

Followed quickly by loud claps of thunder. You’d often count to see how far away the thunder and lightning were from each other but now it didn’t matter,they were perfectly matched.

The storm was above you in its entirety. Closing your umbrella and setting the drenched object off to the side as you moved further into the cathedral. 

Not a soul in sight and yet you could almost hear the haunting and rhythmic vocalizations of a gothic choir. Your footsteps echoed as you moved up the aisle.

You found solace in these places of worship. Before your death and ever more now. You thought when you’d become an angel you’d be surrounded by holy light at all times.

That wasn’t the case. As made apparent by the ever brimming darkness the ebbed and flowed around you now. Only at certain times did that ethereal essence choose to shine.

Because if being a human was complicated, being THIS was even more so. 

Your footfalls reverberated on the stones beneath you. Bouncing off the walls and filling the quiet space in between booms of thunder. Moving upwards through the nave of the church.

Another crack of lightning flooded the room with light and you realized then that you were fact, not alone.

A dark figure stood at the apse, turned away from you. Hands resting on what looked to be the altar. As darkness descended again you had to squint to even make out if it had only been a trick of the light.

You knew it hadn’t been. You intuition said otherwise.

“Are you even supposed to be here?” You called out. Stepping forward another few paces. The figure didn’t move. You could feel the floor seem to shake as the storm continued on outside.

As you got closer you could see the shape of a man come into form more clearly. Shoulders shaking. Crying? No. Silent laughter. 

You didn’t need confirmation but when the next flash of light flooded the cathedral you saw the crawling shadow creeping down the nave towards your feet. A figure of a man, with horns and a pointed tail.

As darkness dashed over once more you gasped as the man had turned and moved just a foot before you in less time than it took the lightning to pass. Inhumanly fast. But of course, what else would you expect from the devil himself?

“Darling, it’s been too long. Is that what you’d call a welcome?” He snapped his fingers and a new chorus of offering lights that hadn’t been previously lit sparked up around you.

Casting an eerie reddish orange glow, but now he came more fully into view. Towering over you, slicked back hair the color of oil with the same amount of shine. Eyes so dark and deep you swore you could feel yourself choke for air attempting to escape them.

An inky suit, cleanly pressed with a stiff collar and matching black tie. Leather gloves affixed to his hands and disappearing beneath his sleeves. Pale skin that stood out against his jet colored shirt.

The only color on him was a blood red pocket square on his suit jacket. Your eyes immediately drawn to it. To escape his all encompassing and severe gaze. How he felt to be everywhere all at once was unnerving.

No horns or tail to be seen. To the untrained eye he was just a devilishly handsome man, and nothing more. But you knew better.

“You shouldn’t be here Billy.” The devil had no place in a church. This was your domain. A place for the downtrodden and weary, so you could keep them safe.

The corner of his mouth ticked up, brows furrowing in mock thought as he studied you. Undressed you with his ebony eyes, as he swiped a leather covered thumb over his bottom lip.

“Am I not also allowed to marvel in this place and all its…beauty?” 

The last word came out clipped, succinct. As if he wasn’t sure that was the word he had intended to use from the beginning. 

“Was it truly this place or something else?” You felt emboldened by his mockery. You’d expected this afterlife to be a stark contrast to your humanity but still you felt your heart race, cheeks gone ruddy. You still had so much left to learn.

His eyes beamed at you and your smart remark. Another fork of lightning struck the sky and his raven eyes glowed in a soul sinking hue of red. When the cool blackness descended again he was no longer in front of you.

Your eyes scanned the surrounding area looking for any sign of his demonic specter. Sure enough you saw him, returned to his spot at the altar, only this time on the opposite side facing you.

He ran a gloved hand along the stone slab as he moved from one side to the other. Stopping to pick up the golden goblet at the end turning it over in his hands, examining it.

“You know, back in the day these used to be made of real gold. And the wine? Well it was far better than what’s passing for drink nowadays.” He drifted his fingers over the top of the goblet and lifted it to his lips, drinking something from within.

“Why did you summon me here, Billy?” The slurping sound he made before discarding the cup to the ground with a loud metallic thunk, was downright filthy. And you’d be lying if you didn’t feel a tremor in your knees at it.

“Sweetheart, we’re of two different factions. I can’t summon you to do anything.” He was right. But the pull you felt towards him, well, it felt easier to stomach when the blame was placed on him and not you feeling drawn to a demon of your own accord.

“Do they not call you the king of lies?” You moved up the rest of the nave and towards the apse where he now resided. Picking up the empty chalice as you went. Placing it off to the side on a small table. “A throne carved for you made of greed and avarice. A heart black as night and a wicked tongue?”

He leaned forward on the altar, resting an elbow to prop up his chin whilst looking in your eyes.

“If you’re curious about my tongue, you need only ask.” 

You wanted to be disgusted. You truly did. You wished for it, but when it only sent shivers of pleasure through your body. To imagine him feasting upon you…

“I’ll ask you to leave once more.” Where was your ferocity, that angelic illumination that was supposed to draw forth from you and scare off all abominations? You willed it forward, but it did not come.

He pushed back, leaving one hand on the stone, tracing a finger over a few choice grooves that stood out. 

“And if I had come here with a purpose? What then?” Was this…truth? Coming from the king of hell itself? 

“What purpose would that be?”

“To see you.”

You blanched at that. Uncertain if he was telling you the truth, yet in your soul you could feel it. Feel him. It frightened you. An angel was not meant to commune with the devil let alone…feel things for him. Let alone, mutual things.

“To see me?” You questioned, moving up to the opposite side of the altar, letting your own hands rest along the smooth cool stone. 

His bowed head slowly raised, until your gazes were locked. Whatever breath had been left in your lungs was gone. You weren’t sure, but was that a look of hesitation in those once stark cold eyes of his?

The devil was demanding and sin incarnate and yet before you he looked a man, a man showing …humanity. 

“Yes.” 

While every fiber of your being wanted to scream against it, you watched as if by design, your own hand reach across the carved stone and take his gloved hand in yours. 

Feeling his fingers twine against yours felt so right and yet so bad at the same time. Everything inside your head begged you to stop and yet your soul craved more. So much more. 

Without letting go of your hand he walked around the edge of the surface coming to rest on your side. So close to you. Too close to you. He smelled decadent and the heat radiating off of him was, ungodly. 

You’d just opened your mouth to list all the reasons why this couldn’t, No shouldn’t happen but it was cut short by him lifting you from the ground and seating you on the altar above him.

Knees splaying open, the perfect space for him to stand between them. Firm hands resting on your hips, toying with the sides of your dress. Edging it up higher and higher.

You gasped, hands on his shoulders pushing him back. Wide eyes meeting his, your lips parted, a ragged breath just barely getting past your mouth. He surged forward capturing your lips against his.

If this is what hell felt like, what they taught in church was wrong. You’d trade heaven for this every time. Searing lips, and skilled tongue working you over and over until you felt dizzy. Mouths meeting and clamoring to see who’d devour who first.

As he pulled away you caught his bottom lip between your teeth, biting enough to draw a rivulet of blood and when your eyes met his once more they were filled with hellfire.

Before he could move towards you again you leaned back, elbows falling to rest against the cold slab.

“Billy! We can’t. I- can’t…” the gravity of the situation dawning on you as another rumble of thunder resonated throughout the dark empty chamber.

His gloved hand came up to rest against your cheek softly, tenderly. It was disconcerting how tender it felt. Thumb rubbing against  your ruddy cheek, soothing the hiccup of anguish that threatened to spill from you.

“You’ve not been an angel for a long time, trust me it gets old.”

At that Billy fell to his knees before you, pushing the last inch or so of your dress up around your waist and sinking his tongue into you so deeply that your scream drowned out the next roar of thunder.

He was outside of you, then in you, then he was you, in quick succession. Pleasure surged, wracking  your body wave after wave. The heat of his mouth tasting you, lapping each delicious drop fervently.

You dragged your fingers through his slicked back hair, messing it up, gripping it forcefully. Half wishing he did have his horns so you could grasp them while riding his face.

Your moans grew louder and louder, echoing off the cavernous walls. The stained glass figures all staring down at the sinful act occurring on their sacred altar. You felt yourself at the precipice, burning in your stomach begging for release.

His tongue circled your clit forcefully then his dirty lips found your center and sucked. You couldn’t remember when one glove had come off but you felt flesh against flesh on your thigh, pushing you open wider for him.

One finger then another entering you, curling against your walls, dragging out the bliss until you could bear it no longer. His fingers and mouth moved as one consumed you and with a feral cry you were spiraling over the edge.

Stars bursting behind your eyes as they squeezed shut, a tear escaping and sliding along the side of your face to land on the surface beneath you. The world seemed to shake and boom in time with the storm never ceasing outside.

As the aftershocks ebbed away you saw Billy push up from his knees on the ground, standing over you, hands braced in either side of your pliant body. He held his one gloved finger up to his mouth.

“Shhhh baby, this is a holy place.” 

Your lips parted then shut, no words could be formed. Your body was still coming down from its high. You could only watch as he slowly shrugged off his suit jacket, letting it drop unceremoniously to the floor.

Followed by removing his other glove and letting it drop as well. Your wobbly arms still braced against the altar, haphazardly hoisting your boneless form up to a seating position once more. Watching his every move, noticing the way the front of his pants struggled to contain him.

He smoothed a hand over the front and you saw the shape of his cock jump against the confining fabric. It had your mouth watering and an undeniable ache to be filled.

All hopes of protest died in you then. As an angel you were still not free of sin, no matter how much you’d hoped that you would be. Instead you were craving the devil in every sense of the word. 

A hunger, unlike any you’d known before grew inside you, screaming and clawing to get out. Your hands moved deftly to unbutton the top of his shirt, fingers sliding underneath the silken fabric feeling his heated skin.

Part of you had anticipated him to feel cold. Dead. But he was warm, his skin soft beneath your fingers. Your heavy lidded eyes drifted down as your attention moved to unbuckling his belt.

“What a pretty little thing you are.” You felt his fingers move to cradle your chin as you continued your work. “I know He creates angels that obey and are pristine, but you’re neither of those things are you?” 

You bit your lip in concentration and attempting to muffle out his words. Had He made a mistake, misjudging you, deeming you worthy when you were here, doing decidedly un-angelic things?

Pushing down his pants so they puddled around his feet,Billy stepped out of them fully. Boxers and all had been discarded and you could take in all of him. Even in the dimness of the room his size had your mouth going dry.

Your eyes never left him as he walked to the end of the altar, forcing you to swing your legs and scoot to meet him. Black hair mussed, pieces falling over his dark eyes that seemed to have animalistic glow.

Running a hand through the unkempt strands he gripped your sides, kneading the exposed flesh and tugging at the strings of your dress that hadn’t yet come untied. 

His hot mouth covered the crook of where your neck met your shoulder, snarling as he kissed the soft skin, biting a patch then licking it to soothe.

You cried out, clawing at his back, dragging your fingers down surely leaving red marks. And he loved it. You could feel it as he bit harder this time, begging you to dig deeper.

Finally when his mouth moved up to meet yours again you felt the ties on the side of your dress give way and fall on either side of you. Barely taking notice as your arms wrapped around his neck.

Tasting him, touching him, yearning for him. An unholy yearning and undeniable ache. Ripping your dress out from underneath you and throwing it onto his own pile of clothes you hissed feeling the cold stone pressed against your flesh.

“Lay back for me, baby.” His whisper husky in your ear, making your toes curl at the sound. 

Adjusting yourself you let your lower back meet with the biting cold of the marble slab. Then your upper back, and finally your head. Your hair fell around you like the broken halo you were sure you’d never wear again.

Billy stood over you at the end of the altar, the endless claps of thunder and flashes from behind the stained glass windows backlit him and you swore you could feel the stone beneath you grow heated .

Flames licking at your skin, or was it just your poor flushed body aching for whatever came next. He hovered over you, grabbing your hips and pulling you down towards him a touch before squeezing the soft flesh of your rear for good measure.

The squeak you made had him grinning. A flash of bright white teeth and then he was kissing up your legs. Tickling your ankle, you made to pull back but his grip grew tight holding you in place.

“Where are you running off to?” You swallowed thickly, not daring to pull away, but pushing up to watch him more fervently. At that he pressed the center of you chest down, hand flattening between your breasts.

Returning to running a hot trail of kisses and sucking along your inner thighs, placing a long slow lick to your core, which had you clenching in need before he adjusted his position. 

Looking over you now, hands clasping your wrists above your head, pinned to the altar beneath you.

“I demand a sacrifice.” 

You felt the blunt end of him press to your center and push into you. Your hands shot to his back, gripping him flush against you as he began to move his hips.

Undulating against you, filling you to the brim. Fuller and fuller. He moaned against your neck, your hair pressed to his face and sticking to his parted lips.

He nearly withdrew fully then thrusted so deep inside you, you swore you felt it in your chest. The groan that escaped you felt as if it’d been trapped within for decades, millennia.

He kissed along your collar bone, tongue delving to taste your skin, lick up your sweat, the he found the bud of your nipple, his mouth expertly pulling each new sweet sound from you.

All you could do was scratch and claw at his back. Tearing into him, wanting to be inside him as much as he was inside you. Forbidden lust and dreadful pleasures.

Were you truly an angel anymore or just an extension of the devil himself? Would you ever be let back into heaven after this. Maybe it was worth it. Maybe he was worth it.

As if he could sense the thoughts wracking your brain he rolled his hips against you with delicious roughness. His cock twitching inside you, touching something deep within you that has you groaning again.

“Billy” his name leaves your mouth. It’s the only prayer you feel worthy of reciting. Again and again and again. 

“Yes” another grunt punctuated by a thrust of his hips. He moans low and loud and it awakens something in you. 

“Sing my name.”

His forehead touches yours, eyes piercing, looking into your soul. A rushing heated sensation flushes through your skin. Eyes squeezing shut as you only focus on the pleasure you’re receiving.

Cresting higher and higher, the liquid fire feeling soaring through your veins, pins and needles and licking flames and the heavens opening up in a million raindrops.

Hips meeting again and again, a cacophony of moans and filthy noises filling this sacred place. Sunshine and hellfire meeting as one. Flesh and bone and blood and rage.

You were burning you could feel it. Each exquisite stroke of him was dragging you deeper and deeper away from salvation. 

Then he hit the part of you that needed him most and  you screamed, clenching around him as your climax overtook you. A few more bucks and then he’s following you over the edge.

“Fuck, my pretty little Angel.” He moans as he spills inside you. All the candles lit in the church flare brightly, the flames climbing higher as their master groans, his own orgasm claiming him.

You feel his hot release fill you to the brim and the tumultuous waves wash over you as you slowly ride out both your highs.

Your skin feels like a million pinpricks tickling it and as your eyes blearily drift open to look upon your lover you see the room filled with light.

Angelic light. Glancing down you see your entire body radiating with an ethereal glow. He loomed just above you, bathed in your effervescent light.

You could see how beautiful of an angel he must’ve been. To even make God jealous. His darkness eddied away in your warm hues, encasing you both in a quite literal, afterglow.

Only the devil could make you shine like this.

After a moment you felt your breath start to ease, chest no longer heaving, the ethereal warmth slowly returned to your body. Coolness returning to settle in your bones as the cathedral grew dark around you both once more.

Billy brushed the hair from your forehead, placing a kiss to the same spot. Pushing up from the altar he moved over to his clothing, rifling through the pile before returning to your side.

He held up the red pocket square, raising a brow and you couldn’t help but chuckle. Cleaning you up with the very swath of fabric. Even lifting you gingerly off the altar, allowing your feet to meet with the floor once again. 

“Thank you for allowing me to worship you.”

The rainfall outside pattering against the windows had slowed, thunder rumbling but sounding further off. You could even count a few beats in between a lighting strike and then the far off thundering.

“Billy…” resuming guilt “I don’t know what to say-“

“Don’t say anything. Not right now.” You didn’t know why you felt this way. Why he felt this way. How heaven had goofed so royally when it came to you.

An angel in love with the devil. How poetic. 

He’d helped you slip back into your dress, and adjusted your coat while you assisted in straightening his tie and brushing a loose strand of his hair back. 

Placing one more roguish kiss to his smirking lips and descending down the nave, past the pews, retrieving your umbrella from where you’d left it by the front door.

Turning back to spare one last glance at the devil himself, but he was already gone. 

You stood along in the echoing hall, the offering candles resumed their quiet swaying and the altar that had been so wickedly tainted not an hour ago was once again clean and unmarred.

What this meant, what this signified, why it had chosen you, you hadn’t the slightest. It felt too big to ponder, at least right now when everything felt so raw.

Walking out into the drizzling rain, disappearing onto the sidewalks once more you thought of your encounter and could feel it.

That illumination, that radiating glow but instead of shining outwards you could feel it nestled deep in the cavern of your chest. Allowing a small smile to grace your lips as you blended into the night.

Say what you will of the devil, but he will always be a gentleman.

[howlingday]

Hello there, I'm here to ask you about my favourite au, The Summon mentor au....on a Previous post I asked you how the Characters changed from their originals Personalities this time I am going to ask you this question again but I would like you to mention a different batch of characters

RWBY & JNPR

Alright, alright... Let's see...

Jacques Schnee - Norman Osborn

Let's start off with the Schnee family and their more drastic changes, because there have been notable changes to them. First up is the patriarch of the Schnee family paired with the patriarch of the Osborn family. What happens when you give a selfish man with an iron grip on business and give him a mentor who is just as selfish but with a more violent nature? Short answer? NOTHING GOOD.

Winter Schnee - Drizzt Do'Urden

To be honest, I haven't though too much on how Winter and Drizzt would really interact. Partially because I don't have a whole lot on Drizzt as a character beyond his tragic upbringing in the Underdark. That said, though, he might be able to help Winter with her summons when comparing his panther to her semblance.

Whitley Schnee - Satoru Gojo

Here comes the boy~. And look at that confident walk he's got! Ever since Gojo became his mentor, Whitley has been especially effective as a businessman AND more stress-free from his overbearing father. Partially because Gojo helped him find a better use of his time than cramming everything into one night.

Coco Adel - The Heavy

Somehow, Coco got even more buff. Yeah, that's pretty much the big difference between her in canon and in this AU. That and maybe being a little more surly and mouth (in Russian).

Velvet Scarletina - The Doomslayer

Velvet has gotten both more confident AND more dangerous on the battlefield! Now she's not only capable of matching fighting styles, she's making up her own fighting styles and blending them together! It's also super helpful that she's able to swap between weapons mid fight. Apparently, she's best at switching between broadswords, chainsaws, and shotguns.

Yatsuhashi Daichi - Guts

Yatsuhashi has gotten a little... more stressed, actually. His mentor will actually wake him up in the middle of the night to train, and the training gets so brutal that his body wants him to fall back asleep. Supposedly, Guts is trying to make him more aggressive as a fighter, but Yats just... isn't taking. If anything, he's getting more prickly outside of fighting and training.

Cardin Winchester - Optimus Prime

Probably the most unexpected turn for anyone to see was Cardin being a more vocal leader. Like, just a few words gets his team fired up and willing to fight. He's also gotten a lot more introspective of himself, questioning himself as a leader, a huntsman, and as a person.

Cinder Fall - Shang Tsung

Much like with Norman Osborn, we have a master manipulator training a master manipulator. There's not much for her to learn from her mentor, or well, not mentally, anyways. The biggest change to Cinder, though, is her adoption of martial arts into her kombat style.

Sun Wukong - Dante

To the surprise of no one, Sun Wukong has gotten even more flashier than he has before.

[daredevil-artwork]

Daredevil by Shelton Bryant

[lunarbuck]

Dance With The Devil (1)

Pairing: mafia!Loki x f!reader (any race)

WC: 4.4k

Summary: Your world turns upside down, but this is only the beginning.

Warnings: kidnapping, fear, swearing, violence

A/N: Yay first chapter!! I can't wait for y'all to read it :) please let me know what you think <3 Some dialogue is taken from the movie. beta'd by the amazing @purpleshallot :))) happy birthday my dear!!!

series masterlist | main masterlist | script | fic playlist

chapter 2

You have always preferred fairytales to real life. True love’s first kiss, fate, all of it. Not to be cliché, but it’s been your escape. From a young age, you found yourself wrapped up in worlds full of magic. Of happily ever afters and fairy godmothers. 

As an adult, you still retreat into those stories for comfort. On difficult days, you lose yourself to mystical places, wishing you could be there, living those lives. You find it cruel, really, to open the door to other worlds like that and not let the dreamers in.

Today, the fall air is crisp and fresh as you board the bus after class. Leaves the color of fire fall from the trees and onto the street, crunching under people’s feet as they walk past. You lean your head against the window and pull out one of your favorite books. You always find yourself returning to it, no matter what happens in your life. You’ve read it so many times you have it memorized by now. The story takes you far away from New York to a place with deadly sword fights, disguised princes, and magic. 

As you turn the page, your heart tugs in your chest, finding yourself at your favorite part of the book. The unassuming and quiet princess meets the prince for the first time. He falls for her instantly, but she doesn’t know who he is, as he’s disguised as a commoner.

It’s easy to get wrapped up in the story, but when your phone buzzes in your pocket, you know you need to check it. You scroll through a few work emails, planning responses in your head when you realize what time it is.

You continue looking at the screen, expecting to see a text from your father that he got home from physical therapy safely. He should’ve been back at least 15 minutes ago.

But there’s no text, no phone call, nothing. Your heartbeat speeds up, you can hear blood rushing in your ears. You try to calm your nerves, telling yourself that maybe his phone died, and he forgot. Your father has always been a little bad with tech. There’s probably nothing wrong.

You repeat the words to yourself the entire commute home, unable to focus on the story that had captivated you just a few moments ago. You keep whispering them over and over as you walk up the cracked steps to your house. You even say them as you search the place for your father.

Your mind goes silent when you find the house completely empty and your father’s cell phone on the ground, the screen shattered.

Shit.

Your head spins as you try to figure out what to do. This isn’t like your father. He’s never disappeared before. He would never go somewhere without leaving at least a note on the fridge or the counter. 

After a few deep breaths, you pull out your phone and call 911.

“911, what is your emergency?” You barely hear the words leave your mouth as you rattle off your name, address, and the fact that your father is suddenly missing. You tell the dispatcher when the last time you had seen your father was and that you found his phone cracked on the ground.

The dispatcher stays on the line with you, but you don’t pay attention to what she says, instead staring at your father’s spot at the dinner table, a newspaper folded just the way he likes beside a cup of coffee, long gone cold. He always insists on having one in the morning, even though he hates the taste.

A few minutes later, a police cruiser pulls up to your house, lights on but no siren. You scramble out of the house and through the front door and find Griffin, your friend from Undergrad, leaning against the car casually.

He’s dressed in his police uniform, pressed and without wrinkles, but as you get closer, you can see the bags under his eyes. Knowing him, he probably was out late last night drinking. He’s always been that type. Even since graduation and getting a job, nothing’s changed.

Griffin has always been around, even when you didn’t want him to be. Him and his deep brown eyes that are always watching over you with a protectiveness that never seems to fade.

“Hey, Griff,” you say quickly, eyes shooting around the block for any sign of your father. Everything looks normal as if your world hadn’t been turned upside down.

Griffin scrutinizes you; the heat in his gaze is evident to you, and you try to shrink away from it. You know he’s always had a thing for you, but you pretend not to notice just like you always do. You’re too busy, too preoccupied with literally everything, to get into a relationship with him or anyone else for that matter.

“So your dad didn’t come home?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest as if this were a regular conversation between the two of you. 

“It’s more than that,” you snap, noticing they only sent one officer. Why wasn’t he with his partner? Why did he come alone? “Where’s your partner? Is he out looking for Papa?” The childhood name for your father slips so easily from your lips that you wouldn’t have noticed it had Griffin not made a face.

“No, it’s just me on this right now. I wanted to check it out before we declared him missing.” Anger bubbles in your chest, but you shove it down. Being angry won’t help right now. You need to focus. That’s the only thing that will help your father.

“Okay, where should we start?”

Griffin explains how a missing person case works, and you nod along with him, trying to make sense of it all. Your father has no enemies that you know of, no one that would wish harm upon him.

As you go through this with Griffin, your eyes wander away from him and over to the houses around you. It’s possible someone saw something; maybe they just didn’t know what they were seeing.

You cock your head, noticing your neighbor across the street has a camera above their doorbell. You start walking to the house, not bothering to explain your action to Griffin. He follows, though, seeming to understand.

To your surprise, your neighbor is more than willing to share the footage with you and the police. She brings out her laptop and rewinds the video until Griffin tells her to stop. Your hands shake as she plays it.

In the grainy video, you see a black van pull up outside your house. Four men dressed in black jump out and walk straight into your home. You know for a fact you’d locked it that morning. How did they get in?

It’s surreal. It’s like a movie. A terrible, shitty movie about men breaking into your house and kidnapping your father. The trees blow in the wind, a bird lands on the pavement, and everyone keeps moving like nothing is happening in the house.

A few moments later, the men emerge from the house, dragging your father between them. He’s fighting back as best he can, but he can’t do much in his weakened condition.

You want to scream, you want to throw up, you want to rewind time and make it so none of this ever happened.

The video has no sound, but you can only imagine his calls for help. How they went unanswered.

Griffin thanks your neighbor after getting a copy of the footage and walks you back to his cruiser. Your legs feel like jelly, unable to support the weight of everything any longer.

“Grab whatever you need for the next few hours and come with me,” he instructs, voice tight. “We’re gonna find your dad.”

When you arrive with Griffin at the police station, you’re surprised by the lack of urgency the other officers give to your father’s disappearance. Is this not important to them?

Griffin lets you sit at his desk while he shows a few people the video, trying to see what people know. The police station feels hospital-like. People rush around, calling out odd codes and names while you sit in the middle of the chaos. Everything smells like the floor cleaner they use. It burns your nose. 

For a while, you scroll through your phone aimlessly, not really sure what you’re looking for before putting it away and reading your book instead.

You finally reach chapter 3. The princess has just discovered the true identity of the prince. The words make your heart flutter despite the noise and disorder surrounding you. You manage to lose yourself in the pages, the world around you fading away.

The prince holds the princess close, cupping her cheek in his hand. They stare lovingly into each other’s eyes, not yet knowing that they were meant to be. The universe had granted them the greatest gift of all, true love. You know what happens next, but that doesn’t stop your brain from coming up with all the ways they might be challenged in the future. 

A hand clasps your shoulder, pulling you from the fairytale world and crashing you into reality. Griffin is at your side, a grim look on his face.

“What?” you ask quietly, not sure you want to hear what he’s found.

“Come with me.” He grabs your arm, tugging you up from the chair. Your book tumbles to the ground, but he doesn’t give you a chance to retrieve it. He guides you to an interrogation room and shuts the door behind him.

“What is going on?” you ask, ripping your arm from his grasp. 

“I got an image of the license plate from the car your dad got into.” You want to interrupt and correct Griffin. Your father didn’t “get into” the car, he was kidnapped and shoved, but you keep your mouth shut. “I tracked it to a few fake identities, but I finally found something solid. All these fake guys work for the same very real mafia family. The Laufeyson family has a pretty big presence around here, and I think they’re the ones who have your dad.”

The mafia? No way. You shake your head, and Griffin gives you a pitying look. You hate it.

“Papa would never get involved with the mafia. He has no reason to. Even when he stopped working, we had enough money for treatments, his inventions always made enough…” your voice trails off when you think of the past few months. How stressed your father had seemed, the odd phone calls, you’d thought nothing of them at the time. But now…

“Look, your dad was sick and desperate. He probably thought he had no other option.” You hate how he talks about your father in the past tense as if he’s already gone.

“Where is he?” you ask before you can spiral into what-ifs and hypotheticals.

“I’ve got an address. There’s no promising it’s where he is, though.” You nod, and Griffin hands you a scrap of paper, an address scrawled messily on it. “We’ll go tomorrow morning. Right now, you need to lie low in case they’re looking for you.” You roll your eyes and scoff. Does he really expect you to wait until tomorrow? 

He’s an idiot if he thinks that.

Griffin drives you back to your house and gives you an awkwardly long hug before getting back in his car and leaving. For a guy that claims to care about you so much, he has a funny way of showing it.

You quickly gather some belongings, unsure how long you’ll be gone, and put the address Griff gave you into your phone. It’s far, too far for you to commute or bike. You don’t have a car, so you decide to call an Uber despite the cost. It’ll be worth it to find your father.

The car arrives after 10 minutes, but honestly, it felt like hours. Every moment that passes, every second that goes by, feels like an eternity being stuck in the unknown. Not knowing what he’s going through.

Your driver is friendly enough, though as he gets closer to the address, he gets more and more cagey. 

Your phone buzzes, and you spare a glance down at it, seeing that Griffin has texted you a few times.

Lmk if you need anything

You wanna get dinner? I got off early.

Hello? Whyre you ignoring me?

You groan inwardly at the messages. Griffin has never been the romantic type, and clearly, nothing has changed since the last time he asked you out. You don’t bother responding, tucking your phone in your pocket as you stare out the window.

The car comes to a stop before arriving at your desired destination. Your driver explains that he can’t go further than this, so you climb out of the car and thank him anyway, tipping even though he didn’t take you where you wanted.

In the distance, you see a giant gated mansion on top of a hill. Without even looking at your phone, you know that’s where you need to go. The place looks straight out of a movie; of course, it’s where the bad guys live.

You make the trip on foot, watching out for anyone suspicious. The gate around the house is tall, but you scale it somewhat quickly, surprising yourself with your newfound upper-body strength.

The sun has set by the time you’re crossing the well-kept lawn, chilling you to your core. You carefully creep around the house’s perimeter, looking for a way in. You find a window cracked open and are stunned at your luck.

The window slides open easily, and you slip through the opening, finding yourself in a large sitting room. The plush carpet dampens your footsteps, making you nearly silent as you creep through the room.

As you push open the door to the hallway, you lock eyes with a man down the corridor. You freeze, unable to move away even as you will your feet to move. The man doesn’t call for help, though. Instead, he tilts his head as if to get a better look at you.

He steps toward you, then furrows his brow, thinking better of it. You wait for his next move with bated breath.

“Your father,” he whispers, eyes darting around, probably watching for other people. “Go upstairs.” With that, he turns on his heel and walks in the opposite direction, seemingly content with pretending he never saw you. 

How did he know you’re here for your father? They must not get many visitors that arrive on good terms; maybe this is a common occurrence?

You wait an agonizing few minutes until you’re sure the coast is clear before you dart to the staircase he’d gestured to.

The mansion is more extensive than it appeared from the outside, and you only realize the size as you climb the sweeping stairs to an upper level of the house. Corridors filled with doors leading to different rooms catch your attention, but you know that you must look for any sign of your father and avoid getting lost in the maze of the home.

A chill runs through you as you pass through the house. Even though you’ve seen signs of life here, it feels like a museum. It doesn’t feel like a home. No one really lives here; they just pass through. Existing and moving on.

As you reach the top of the stairs, you hear him. Your father coughs after every other word, barely getting the sounds out. He sounds so weak.

“Please, someone,” he groans quietly before breaking into another fit of coughs. You practically run down the hall until you reach a room at the very end, the door cracked slightly open. Not caring if anyone sees you, you push the door open to reveal your father.

Bile rises in your throat at the sight of him.

He’s tied tightly to a pole in the center of the room, hands cuffed behind his back around the bar, and feet bound at his ankles. From what you’ve seen, the rest of the house has hardwood or carpet. This room has concrete floors.

This room was built for pain, for bloodshed.

Even in the darkness of the room, you can see bruises bloom around his eyes and on his cheeks. Blood splatters on the ground. You can only imagine the pain he’d been through before your arrival.

Your father must not have heard or seen you come in because he continues to whisper his pleas.

“Papa,” you say gently as you cross the room and crouch in front of him. You place your hands on both sides of his face; he is so cold against your skin. “Papa, I’m here.”

Your father’s eyes open as far as they can with the swelling, but he finally sees you. “Oh, my, how did you find me?” he croaks. You shake your head, reaching around to see how his hands are cuffed. You hold one of his hands in yours and wince at the temperature.

“Your hands are like ice,” you whisper, returning your attention to his face. “We have to get you out of here.” Your father shakes his head, even though the action appears to pain him.

“Please, I want you to leave this place,” he begs, desperation lacing his voice.

You ignore his words, focusing on trying to undo the binds on his feet. “Who did this to you?”

“There is no time to explain,” he urges, “you have to go. Now!” You sit back on your heels and stare at your father in disbelief.

“I won’t leave you!” Your tone is harsh, but you don’t understand why he wants you to leave him behind.

Suddenly, someone grabs your shoulder, pulling you away from your father with incredible strength. You scramble out of their grasp and back to your father, unable to catch a glimpse of the person that grabbed you before they slip into the shadows.

“What are you doing here?” the person, a man, asks harshly, spitting the words at you.

“Run,” your father groans fearfully. You search your father’s face for something, anything, to help you through this.

You spin around, pressing your back against your father in an attempt to protect him from the new man.

“Who are you?” you ask the man cloaked in shadow. 

“Who are you?” the man asks in response, his words sharp and deadly.

“I’ve come for my father. Please let him out; can’t you see he’s sick?” you reply, voice even and calm, not showing how terrified you are.

“Your father is a thief. He owes me.”

You shake your head; he must be lying. “But he could die. Please, I’ll do anything!” Desperation creeps into your voice, but you hold firm. You want to cry, you want to scream, but you don’t. You won’t, not until your father is safe.

“There’s nothing you can do. He’s my prisoner.” The words are swift, his tongue like a whip.

“There must be some way I can–” You turn back to face your father, searching his face for the answers. “Take me instead!” It takes everything in you to pull your eyes away from your father and face the shadowed man.

“You? You would take his place?” He sounds unsure, troubled by what you’ve proposed. As if you’ve caught him off guard.

Your father struggles against the binds, trying to grab onto you. “No! You don’t know what you’re doing!” Even though it pains you, you don’t look back.

“If I did, would you let him go?” You can’t see his face, but you can tell the man is mulling over his choices. He holds your life in his fingers.

“Yes, but you must promise to stay here forever.” Your heart sinks, but you know that it is for the best that you take your father’s place. He has access to the money you’ve been making, to his treatment services, everything. It would be easier with you there, but you know he’ll be able to care for himself until he finds a caretaker. 

As anger burns inside your chest, you stare at the shadowed man in front of you. You want to see the man forcing you and your father into this fate. You want to look him in the eye as he sentences you to death at his hand.

“Come into the light,” you whisper, barely able to form the words. The man doesn’t move for a moment, but after a breath, he steps forward and into the light cast from the window.

Your eyes widen as you take him in. He’s tall, towering over you like a mountain. His black hair is slicked back in the front, though a piece has fallen out of place and covers one of his eyes. Dressed in an all-black suit, the man looks as though he is made of the shadows that had just been concealing him. Bright eyes stare down at you as if they can see right through you.

“No,” your father says, sputtering and coughing. “No, I won’t let you do this!” 

It’s as if you’re in a trance. You can’t break your eyes away from the man in front of you. “You have my word.” The promise slips from your lips as if not yours. 

The man cocks his head, grinning slyly. “It is done.”

All it takes is a quick knock on the door behind him, and the man has summoned two more people to the room.

They rush in, moving you aside and grabbing your father. You try to catch him, to hug him, to just let him know that everything will be okay, but the raven-haired man grabs your arms and pulls you away, holding you against his chest. One arm brackets around your front while the other covers your mouth, muffling your yelling.

You struggle against him, willing him to just let you say goodbye, but your efforts are futile.

It doesn’t take long for the two men to drag your father away. You can’t help but feel like you’ll never see him again. The feeling lodges itself deep in your gut, making you feel a heaviness like you’ve never experienced before.

When it is just you and the raven-haired man left in the room, he releases you. You crumple to the floor, finally allowing your tears to fall freely. The ground is cold and hard beneath you as you wet it with your tears.

The raven-haired man says nothing for a long time, letting the sound of your sobs echo between the walls.

When your throat is dry, and you have no tears left in your body, he moves to stand in front of you instead of behind you.

“Come,” he says curtly as if speaking to a dog.

You shake your head, holding it in your hands. “You didn’t even let me say goodbye. I’ll never see him again.” Finally, you look up at the man. Fury rips through your veins. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

If the man feels bad or feels any remorse, he doesn’t reveal it. “I’ll show you to your room.”

His words take you by surprise. You hadn’t thought this far ahead. Is he going to give you a room? It wouldn’t have shocked you if he’d just told you to sleep in this torture room. “My room? But I thought–”

“You want to stay here? In this… cell?” he asks, tilting his head. The faint light from the window makes his eyes shine. You search his face for any trace of emotion but find nothing. His blue eyes stay trained on you, his lips pressed into a line. 

“No,” you reply, annoyance clear from your tone. That earns you the smallest of smirks. His right eye ticks. He must not like being on the receiving end of an attitude. Well, he better get used to it.

“Then follow me.” The raven-haired man doesn’t help you stand. He doesn’t provide you any support as you wobble on weak legs. He just stands by the door, waiting for you to catch up.

You walk a few steps behind the man, following him like a shadow as he guides you through the corridors. He points to different doors, other paths through the home, but you don’t really hear him.

It’s like you’re underwater; everything is muted and warped. Your thoughts spin through your head, and you’re barely able to process them as they fly past. It all happened so quickly, you’d acted without thinking through all the possible outcomes, and now you’re stuck here alone forever.

The man comes to a stop in front of a pair of ornate wooden doors. He stares down at the handles, but you stare at him. He’s yet to tell you anything about him; he is a mystery to you.

“You are to never step foot in the west wing,” he says through gritted teeth, shifting his eyes toward you. “Do I make myself clear?” 

You take a shaky breath and look at the carvings on the door. They seem to tell a story, but before you get a chance to look for the start, you find yourself speaking. “What’s in there?”

“It’s forbidden.” You flinch back from his harsh tone, dropping your eyes to the floor.

The man turns away from the door and guides you down a new hallway. You notice more art hung on the walls in this area, lots of classics. Your heart tugs when you see some familiar paintings; it’s barely a comfort, but it’s something.

“If there is anything you need,” he says, pushing open the door to a bedroom, “my people will attend to you.” The room is simple, with only a bed, a dresser, and a vanity, but it looks clean from what you can tell. 

He doesn’t wait for you to get settled, doesn’t even tell you where the kitchen or anything else is. The second you step into the room, he shuts the door with a thud.

You barely make it to the bed before your legs give out. You throw yourself onto the blankets and pillows, a sobbing heap as you come apart.

You don’t care how loud you’re being. You don’t care that the man might be standing outside listening. Your sobs rip through you, releasing emotions you haven’t felt in ages. This is bigger than just your father, bigger than being trapped in the home of a man you’ve never met before.

It’s only the beginning.

please message me to be added to either taglist! you must be 18+ to be added

Series Tags: @huntress-artemiss @buckysteveloki-me @raelorns21 @yukiartistz @sarhabee @apollonshootafar

General Tags: @searchf0rtheskyline @writerwrites @late-to-the-party-81 @jobean12-blog @prettylittlepluviophile @prettywhenicry4

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

The Club Reading Order

The Duff, Nightlife, and Carpe Noctem can be read on their own and thus I will not include them in this list. Cause of Action can be read on its own but should be read after The Duff.

Find the AU Masterlist here.

*this is only a recommended order, meaning that some parts overlap but events should align relatively chronologically.

Snake Eyes ☾ Part 1 

Mise en Place ♡ Part 1 

Wasted ✫ Part 1

Black Light ✧ Part 1

Snake Eyes ☾ Part 2 

Mise en Place ♡ Part 2

Wasted ✫ Part 2

Wasted ✫ Part 3 

Wasted ✫ Part 4 

Snake Eyes ☾ Part 3 

Mise en Place ♡ Part 3

Black Light ✧ Part 2 

Snake Eyes ☾ Part 4

Mise en Place ♡ Part 4

Black Light ✧ Part 3

Wasted ✫ Part 5 

Black Light ✧ Part 4

Wasted ✫ Part 6

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Devil Wears Armani 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you're the CEO's new PA and you find the work too much to handle. (short!reader)

Characters: Tony Stark, this reader is known as Georgie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

The world stands still for Tony Stark but you run for him. You flit between the bodies on the street, hangers hooked in your fingers as the heavy suit bags bounces on your back. You’re breathless and dizzy as you get to the glass doors, nearly colliding with one as it opens from the other side. You clamour around it and apologise to the stranger that steps through. 

You check your watch as you hurry across the lobby. Ahead, you see the elevator filling up. No way. It’ll take forever with stops at every floor. You divert and head for the stairs. What’s a little more fire in your lungs? 

You burst through the door and scuff towards the first flight, barely keeping from shouldering the brick wall. You huff and puff your way up, feeling around your crossbody bag until you free your phone. Stark’s messages assure you that you’re not fast enough. You were warned about being run through your paces but you haven’t sat down in what feels like weeks. 

‘Suits. My Office. Now.’ 

His last message is fed up. You won’t offer excuses about the traffic or the dry cleaner losing the tags. You will just smile and accept the reprimand. That’s what the job is. Taking shit. You have no misconceptions left, not since Louise told you what happened to the last PA. You hope she’s in good therapy. You should look into some once your benefits kick in. 

You rush across the floor of desk, paying little mind to the paper that flutter in your stead or how the suit bags hit the edge of monitors. You can’t stop. Somehow, he’ll know if you do. 

You enter the hidden lobby where your desk sits guard to the CEO’s office and you gulp down humid breaths as you near his door. You knock furiously but don’t wait for the response. You push the handle with your elbow and lean into the door, scrambling through in victory. 

“Mr. Stark, your suits--” 

You stop short and the hangs fall as your fingers bend back too far and the suit bags slide down to your feet. Your eyes widen as Annabel’s crystal blue eyes roll up to meet yours as she lays across the desk, Mr. Stark’s silver-streaked hair over her chest as he buries his face in her cleavage, her dress pulled down just to the top of her ribcage. 

“Oh, gosh, sorry!” 

You put your hand up to block your view and bend to gather up the mess of dry cleaning. You swipe the bags up by the hooks of the hangers, spinning in a panic and fleeing back through the door. You snap it shut and race over to your desk.  

The round desk sits behind a ledge that hides all but your hairline from the few of visitors and other employees. The chair is set as high as it will go and yes, you can barely see from your perch. You’ve moved the monitor twenty times and it’s not made it any better. 

You sling the suit bags over the back of the desk and drop into the chair. Horror crawls up your chest and neck and threaten to choke you. Your heart continues to pound as your adrenaline slowly recedes. It’s more than just the cross-city sprint that has you out of sorts. 

Shoot! Why did you just go in like that? You knocked but you didn’t wait. You were so set on the finish line you didn’t see the red flag beside the checkered. You groan and slump forward, cradling your head as it throbs. You’re fired. 

You sit up and use your phone camera to fix your addled appearance, your glasses crooked and low on your nose. You did yourself no favours in your excess. You’re even more of a mess than usual. Dang. You put your phone down and untangle your crossbody bag and open the bottom drawer. You hesitate to drop it in, should you bother? You should start packing up. 

You tuck the bag away and use your foot to close the drawer. You don’t know what to do so you do what you always do. Work. 

You roll up to the monitor and login, fingers fluttering over the slender keyboard. You bring up Mr. Stark’s inbox and filter through the endless correspondence. His calendar’s full enough that most of the invites are an automatic ‘no’. 

You hear the door across from your open but don’t look up. Your cheeks blaze as Annabel’s clears her throat and struts away with a tap of heels. Your eyes widen behind your screen and you cough as you focus on your task. 

Mr. Stark doesn’t appear right away but you sense his silhouette in the doorway before he approaches. Your hands shake and your typing turns to gibberish. You still your fingers but keep them hovered over the keys. You bite down on the inside of your lip as you stare at the monitor. 

“My suits belong in my office,” he says. 

“Yes sir,” you reply obediently and stand abruptly, “just let me--” 

You trip around the swiveling chair and scoop up the suit bags. You step down from behind the raises desk and come around, overly aware of his looming shadow. You feel even smaller with your armful. 

He chuckles, “what was the hold up? I got bored.” 

“Sorry, sir,” you answer, “I’ll do better.” 

You scuff over the floor in your flats and into his open office. His desk is still a mess from his playtime. You veer towards the rolling rack against the wall and hang his suits. He steps into the doorway and watches you. 

You go to the desk without a thought and start tidying up. You’re such a busy body when you’re nervous. His soles tap on the floor as he enters and sucks his teeth. 

“She’s a cutie, huh?” Stark snickers, “and her assets are... admirable.” 

You blanch and back up, pushing your hands behind your back as you face him, “I’m sorry, sir. That won’t happen again.” 

“Oh, it will,” he smirks, “there’s enough pretty girls around...” He winks, “maybe next time, you’ll join.” 

You blink and your mouth opens just slightly. You’re speechless. He laughs again. 

“I’m playing with you,” his expression hardens and he crosses his arms, “go, get back to work.” He demands as he shakes his head, “next time don’t be fucking late.” 

[chasingmidnights]

Cage the Devil Masterlist

Here’s a little playlist inspo. for my titles and songs that I felt matched the mood I was going for. Take a listen!

Also, here are some moodboards & other inspo images for this series.

A/N: This is kind of a slow burn with this mini series. The reader and Lee aren't going to be together right off the bat. The first part is more focused on Lee and the second part is more focused on the reader! I would also like to note that this is my first time writing smut for this series so it might not be the best, I ask that you please be kind. I do not claim to be a professional writer, any and all mistakes are my own; nothing is beta read. Please be sure to read any and all warnings, minors will be blocked! Lastly, the any dividers were made by @firefly-graphics and any moodboards that you see were made by me! I hope you enjoy!

Part One: The Beast

Part Two: Trouble Ahead

Part Three: The Devil Wears a Suit & Tie

Part Four: Dark Paradise

Part Five: God's Gonna Cut You Down

Part Six: I Will Never Die

Part Seven: Anything Goes

[mireyadc]

Light of My Day

A new Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur fanfic, 2 chapterspublished and more to come.

For now I'm publishing it only in English, but I also speak Spanish, so if you do not understand the language and do not want to use the option to translate the page of Google, you can leave me a comment saying that you would like to read the story in Spanish, if I see that many of you are interested, I will translate it myself.

Title: Light of My Day

Fandom: Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur

Warnings: Graphic description of violence, Mention of blood, Character death (?)

Sinopsis:

What if Pops find out what's happening? What if he wanted to rescue his wife himself? Basically a new vision of episode 1.16

[abbatoirablaze]

Deal With The Devil, Chapter 11

Word Count:  1.9k

Warnings:  mentions of cheating/infidelity, angst, mentions of drugs.

“Eat her out, he growled, looking between Bucky and the cum that was dripping from his fiance’s core, “I want to see you clean your cum out of her with your mouth.”

Bucky stared at Steve in disbelief as he made the demand, “you what?”

“She’s my fiancé,” he said firmly, “I get to put one in her first.”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Bucky scoffed, “She-“

“You want it so bad, you do it,” Inez demanded, staring Steve down as she cut Bucky off, “you eat me out…”

Steve looked at her, shocked that she was suggesting such a thing, “what?”

But her hands were already tangled in her fiance’s hair as she pulled him closer, and her lips captured his own.  Steve nearly swooned into the passionate kiss, forgetting that she was suggesting that he eat Bucky’s cum out of her.  And when she pulled away, she was whispering against his own lips, “eat James’ cum out of me, Steve…you wanna make sure I’m pregnant with your child, you do it…or I’m going to let James fuck me again, and again, and again, until I’m sure I’m carrying his kid and not yours.”

It was like his mind glitched, and he couldn’t think for himself.  He nodded dumbly and allowed her to push his head down towards her still quivering pussy. 

“James,” she whispered softly, motioning him forward, “Come here!”

He, too, followed her instructions, completely surprised by how she was not only taking control of the situation, but how he and Steve were following her every command.  When he reached her face, he allowed himself to be pulled in as well, their own lips colliding in another heated passion. 

Steve’s face hovered over her mound. 

He was turned on by the situation, but there was an anxiety bubbling deep under the surface. 

All of a sudden, he stopped; his mind racing back to his childhood, and the beating his own father had given him for just kissing his one-time best friend felt like it’d just happened a day prior instead of a decade ago. 

And as much as he wanted to do as she commanded, he pushed himself back from the bed, instead choosing to be a passive participant. 

He watched as the two of them made out, her hands trailing down his taut frame and touching him in ways that Steve had dreamt about once upon a time. 

His jealousy grew in both ways. 

Inez was his fiancé.

Bucky was the man that he’d always been in love with.

And here they were, so free in their intimacy with one another at his own insistence. 

There they were, asking him to join it.

And he couldn’t allow himself to. 

He hated himself in every sense of the word for not being able to allow himself the same freedom that his partners were engaging in.  His nails dug into the plush leather of the chair. 

He wanted to taste Bucky’s lips again. He wanted to feel Inez wrapped around his cock.

But he sat, frozen in the moment when he should have been allowing himself to feel free.

“OH, FUCK!” he roared as he came inside the bride.  His head fell forward against hers, and she pulled him into a heated kiss, needing him more intimately now more than ever, “I love you baby…god, I fucking love you.  Gonna spend the rest of my life showing you…showing you just how much-“

“I love you, James!” she moaned.  His steely eyes softened as he looked at her. 

“He doesn’t deserve to be your husband,” Bucky growled sadly as he pressed kisses all over her face and chest, “fuck, he doesn’t deserve to call you his…it should be me.”

Inez reached up and stroked her boyfriend’s cheek, stopping him from talking about how the other side of their little love triangle, and the man that had married her just a few hours ago had already ditched them to have sex with one of his lieutenant’s wives. 

“We don’t have to talk about him, James!” you whimpered softly shaking your head, “I don’t want to talk about someone who isn’t here.”

“I’ll always be here, baby!” he promised, kissing her lightly, “I’ll always be here for you, doll.”

She stroked his cheek again before he pulled out and rolled off of her.  The two of them were laying in the bed of the honeymoon suite, making the best out of the situation. 

“I just wish that Steve was here too!” she said honestly. 

Bucky looked at the bride, her dress eagerly discarded closer to the door of the hotel room, just as Bucky’s tux had been torn off on their way to the bed.  He watched her intently. 

Her hand fell to her stomach, the barely there bump having been hidden by the layers of lace and tulle during the ceremony.  He reached over, his hand softly laying over hers. 

“I can feel the baby moving,” she said softly, guiding his hand a little lower until he felt the smallest of kicks.  Bucky couldn’t help but smile thinking about how his unborn child was already so active, “I think it’s going to be a boy…”

His heart did flips at the thought of that.

“A boy, huh?”

She nodded, “me and Pepper were talking and she said that during her pregnancy with Morgan-“

“Sh-she doesn’t know, does she?” he asked nervously, referring to their situation.

“No one knows, James,” she said with a frown, “they all think that Steve and I are expecting…th-they don’t know that he just watches us…that he’s never actually touched me…”

“But they have to know about how he’s still cheating?”

“They don’t…and when I bring it up to him he always gets upset with me.  He says that I’m cheating too…so it’s only fair.” She shrugged, “I don’t want to push it though…I mean, we both know that he’s got feelings for us…but he just-“

“He’s too scared to act.”

She nodded, “but I wish he wasn’t…”

“Has he-has he even kissed you since we started this whole…throuple?”

“Aside from today’s kiss,” she asked.  Bucky nodded and she shook her head with a sigh, “I think-I think that’s why I lean so heavily into you when we get intimate…you want me…and you’re not afraid to admit it.”

“He wants you too…and he wants me…”

“He’s got a shit way of showing it.”

“Give him time, doll…he’ll come around.”

“I-I don’t know if I want him to.  I mean…I think that if he doesn’t meet us at the air strip…if he’s not on that plane with us in the morning…I think I’m going to tell Tony…everything…and I think…I think I might get the marriage annulled.”

“You don’t think that’s too rash a decision?” he asked, his fingers lacing with hers as their eyes met.

“You do?”

He frowned, “I’m still his third in command, Inez…and regardless of what we do outside of the businesses, he’s still one of my best friends.  He’s still…technically our third.”

“Then why has he all but distanced himself from us?” she asked with a frown, “he should be here…he should be a part of this.”

“I know, doll…”

“I just want him here…I want to know that he’s safe…”

“I’m sure that he is.”

“But we don’t know that for sure!”

“Where the fuck am I?” he groaned, his head aching as the sun nearly blinded him.  He raised his arm up to the sky and tried to block out some of the light, “Shit, turn it off!”

“Can’t turn t he sun off!” she giggled.

Steve groaned, “Then shut the fuck up!”

“Do you want another margarita, baby?” she asked, “nothing better as a hangover cure than another margarita!”

Steve groaned once more at the grating voice, “I said shut the fuck up!”

“Well, someone’s cranky!” a voice giggled.

“Sounds like he’s finally coming down off his binge!” another voice chimed in, “I think we’re out of the coke, but I’m sure I could make a call and-“

“God will you shut the fuck up?” he growled, “I’m sick and tired of hearing your fucking screeches, you god damned banshees!”

“Screeches?”

“We left our husbands for you, Steve!”

“Where the fuck are we?” Steve repeated after blinking a few times and seeing that his yacht was tied up at the dock, “I don’t recognize this place.  Are we close to New York?”

“You’re so funny, Steve!”

“We’re in Miami…like you promised!” the second one giggled, “remember?  You said that you wanted to take us to Miami so we could prance around in our little bikinis for you while you sipped tequila out of our belly buttons and did lines of coke off our ass.”

“Where the hell is my wife?” he growled, “where’s Bucky?”

“You left those buzzkills back at the reception, remember, Stevie?”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he growled, “and get the hell off my yacht!”

“But Steve-“

“FUCK OFF!”

“You look like shit!”

“You can go to hell too!” he growled, sending his second in command a stern look while he stalked through his house, “where is Inez?  Where’s Buck?  They’re not answering my calls.”

“Suppose it be pretty hard to when they’re probably off fucking on the Grecian beaches you were supposed to be at for your honeymoon.”

He gave Sam another glare.

“Don’t kill the messenger, boss,” he said with a frown as he passed him an envelope, “they left this for you…and there’s a packet in your office.”

Steve gave the envelope a look.  It was plain, and there wasn’t much weight to it.  His name was written neatly on the front.  Even in his short time knowing his wife, he could see that it was Inez’ handwriting. 

Steve,

I’m guessing that you came back at some point during the honeymoon.  Me and James still went.  Without you, obviously. 

I told him during our wedding night that if you weren’t at the air strip that we were going regardless, and that I would get the marriage annulled. 

I waited three days past that point. 

We really didn’t want to leave you behind. 

But I’m guessing that you never really wanted this. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed you as hard as I did that first night…the night that you convinced me to cheat on you with James.  Maybe I shouldn’t have made you kiss him. 

Maybe I should have felt the shame that any other woman would have felt when she was forced into her first intimate encounter.

But you were different after that night. 

More reserved. 

You never put a hand on me after that. 

Even when you kissed me at our wedding it didn’t really feel like you were there. 

I told Tony about it. 

All of it. 

He knows that I slept with James.  And that I’m pregnant with his child.  He took care in making sure that the marriage was annulled quietly.  As far as anyone is concerned, it looks like I’m married and, on my honeymoon,…and truth be told, I am. 

After the annulment, on the third day, James and I got married at the courthouse, and got on a plane.  When I come back, I’m going to have a place in Manhattan.  With James. 

Tony’s already made sure that we’ll be okay…and Bucky is going to be working with him now…now that Happy’s moving on. 

In the almost five short months that we’ve known each other, I did fall in love with you…and him.  But I can’t force him to wait any longer for you to want to be with us. 

Truth be told…I don’t want to wait.

Please don’t be angry with us. 

But we’re moving on.

Without you,

Inez and James

Chapter 12

Tag List:  @teambarnes72, @prokey16, @lohnes16, @shellybellysstuff, @cynic-spirit

[oldtvserieslover]

I seriously need more fics about ThenaxGilgamesh, about Sang-hwa from Train to Busan and Jang Dongsu xTaeseok. Sadly there are only a few from the last two fandoms.

Give me the drama, the cute stuff, hurt, the spicy, anything! I will read it 💀😂🫶🏼

I hope someone will write some fics 'cause I really suck at writing. I have ideas about different scenarios but I can’t write LMAO what a struggle.

Spread love and peace out ✌️😂