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syrma-sensei · 2 years

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Moon's Scarab → Ch. 3: It's supposed to be easy.

Marc Spector x Layla El-Faouly.

pre-canon fic; based on the Marvel comics and Disney's series Moon Knight.

warning: violence, cursing, angst, smut maybe in the future (?), the majority of spoken Arabic in this story is in Egyptian dialect.

taglist: @kesskirata @zinzinina @urlocallsimp

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Marc Spector

Marc Spector has been in shitty situations more than he can count on his fingers. But this, this... this is an entirely whole new level of shitty situation since he's taken the cape of Moon Knight. Marc is still in utter shock of what just happened; his task for the night was supposed to be super simple; him breaking into the building, beating the shit out of the man with the name Mr. Profile — which is a ridiculously stupid alias in his opinion — after he and Duchamp have worked their asses off to locate him to interrogate him and gather some information they're in need of, kill him, then leave. His plan, didn't include, by any fucking chance, him dragging an unconscious girl all the way back here, and on his fucking shoulder, carrying her like a potato sac.

“Fuck,” An indignant hiss escapes Marc's mouth as he rubs the shimmering string of sweat off of his temple with the heel of his palm. Marc checks the stitches he just did on the kid's head where Mr. Profile left a wound with the butt of his gun before throwing her unconscious and bleeding on Marc in order to distract him and run away; which he successfully did.

Marc clicks his tongue, tearing his elongated gaze away from the sleeping girl on his bed.

“She isn't supposed to be here,”

Marc cranes his neck up, glancing at the tall figure of his god, and sighs, “Yeah, I know.”

“Then why is she lying on your bed, Marc?”

The latter almost, just almost, rolls his eyes, but he clenches his teeth instead, “Need to ask her some questions, okay?”

“Even if she does know something, you should've never brought her here.”

“She was there for a reason,” Marc mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose, “And I wanna know why.”

Of course Marc needs to ask her some questions, because he knows for a fact she was there for a reason, given the sudden circumstance he had to deal with there. Marc didn't have on mind that he'd face kids — fucking kids, when he went to interrupt a smuggling deal in order to capture Mr. Profile. The plan was simple and was strategized to take both sides by surprise and to get rid of them without much a mess. However, he did sense something was off about the bunch of kids he knocked out before arriving at the target room; they were way too amateur to be in charge of securing the place, but he didn't dwell on it much, for he'd encountered criminals who hired kids before. That's why he bothered to drag one of them all the way here, thinking it'd be easy to intimidate her and coax the information he's in need of from her. Plus, he couldn't leave an injured girl in such place like that, the thing his god wouldn't actually understand.

“What if she's indeed one of them, hmm?” Khonshu enunciates, his baritone voice mocking, “Are you going to reveal your real face to her?”

Marc sneers, “They already saw my face,”

Khonshu stomps the heel of his moon-shaped sceptre on the ground slightly, “And ruin every discreet measure you have taken to maintain a low profile, as you put it.”

Marc gazes at Khonshu, unamused, “What I meant by keeping low profile is not to use the face of Moon Knight unless it's necessary, so we don't attract the attention of higher authorities.”

Even though no expression can be read on Khonshu's face, Marc knows he's sulking, “Look, if you want me to eradicate The Committee, you're gonna let me do it my way.”

Khonshu chuckles, “You know you're way too insolent for an avatar talking in such way to the god who's snatched you from clutches of death, Marc Spector.”

Marc glowers at Khonshu for a moment, before lolling his head down a tad. Here he goes again, reminding him of why he's still alive until now. Marc doesn't forget that, he never will, that's why he's doing all of this to begin with; trying to repaying his debt to the moon god. But as always, he doesn't make it easy for him, never.

“Anyway, was it truly necessary to bring that here?” Marc points at the statue of Sekhmet, sitting elegantly, even though the circumstances is any but that, on at table Marc has set up for it, “Guess, that what's supposed to remain there, Khonshu,”

The latter's tone appears to be amused, “I couldn't let them have it.”

Marc arches an eyebrow, “Thought you aren't very fond of the other gods.”

“You see, Sekhmet isn't like any other, that's why the gods have determined to banish her, deeming her barbaric actions would draw the humans attention to them.” Marc isn't truly interested in the gods in particular, and his master doesn't speak of them too often, but the sudden eagerness in Khonshu's voice doesn't go unnoticed by him, “She was among the first to defy their absurd decision to abandon humanity,”

“What happened to her?” Marc finds himself ask.

Khonshu lets out a sigh laced with forlornness, “The same fate any god faces when tries to disobey the judgement of the Ennead. She's been sealed in a stone.”

Marc glances at the statue again. It is unique, he must admit, it seems as if it's sculpted just today. The lioness head of the goddess oozes of reverence and viciousness; her expression is calm yet her eyes are glimmering with imperishable wrath. Her setting position is majestic, befitting a dignified goddess like her, she has a remarkable and imposing presence. Small wonder Khonshu speaks so admiringly of her, Marc muses. With the might of Khonshu's given powers, he could carry it along with the girl with ease... well, sort of.

Marc spends the next two hours in taking a quick shower, eating a meal, then reporting what happened to Duchamp, and asks him to do some research on the girl for him. He also wraps the idol with old rags he found in the safehouse; dealing with one god he can do — almost. But dealing with two? No, he doesn't have to. Even if the other is a mere reminiscent of what she'd used to be. She makes him feel suffocated more than Khonshu himself.

As Marc sits behind his laptop at the table again, he hears whimpering emitting from the sprawled girl on his bed. His body instantly reacts and jerks, hands fisting up. But he puts himself at ease again as he stands up and heads slowly towards her, eyeing her stirring and groaning.

The girl grunts and moans, Marc raises an eyebrow, watching her wriggling and moving, til her eyes snap open and her body trembles up. Marc freezes for a moment when his eyes lock with hers. She has a beautiful pair of eyes, he must admit that, dark and wide of a doe's, framed by thick and luscious lashes. For a moment, just a mere moment, he feels ensnared by those two brown orbs, plunged to deep into the dark colour.

His continuous glaring must've scared her as she cowers backwards, pushing her heels on the mattress.

“Where am I?” Is the first thing she asks. “A-And who are you?”

Marc extends his arms, hands firm in a decisive gesture, “You're safe I promise,”

The girl grimaces and winces as she instantly brushes a hand to her freshly stitched wound. Her nose scrunches up, and a moan escapes her lips as she gazes at her fingers.

“I wouldn't touch that if I were you.” Marc warns, “Not if you want it to split open again,”

With a pained scowl, the girl gazes at him, sitting on the edge of the bed, “What am I doing here?”

“About that...” Marc purses his lips in a thin line, pointing his forefinger at her. “Your boss abandoned you, he's the one who caused you this if you remember,” He juts his chin at her injury, “So, I don't think it'll be in use if you lie to me, okay?”

The girl furrows her eyebrows in pure confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Your boss, Mr. Profile—”

The girl snores, she dares to fucking snore as if he said something funny.

“Mr. Profile... my boss?” She chuckles, shaking her head “Look, mr. secret agent or whatever, you got this all wro—” The girl's eyes flit momentarily to the covered statue and her eyes widen. She darts towards it, and fumbles to unwrap it, before even Marc can block her, he gets up and follows her. She stills when her eyes meet the glimmering, green ones.

“What is this doing here?” The girl hisses at Marc who made several steps towards her. “Fuck, you're another smuggler, aren't you? It makes sense now.” She takes an attack position, readying herself for the worst.

Marc's eyes go wide, taken off guard, “What? No!” he flares through his nose, “Look, you practically sabotaged a very important operation, and because of you a very bad guy has escaped from my grasp, after I spent months of looking for 'em.”

The girl snickers, “Sorry to tell you, but that you fucking did the same thing! How am I supposed to believe you and you practically stole this?!” Her chin juts towards the statue.

Marc grumbles, puts his hand on his forehead, almost slamming it, then shakes his head. From the corner of his eyes he sees Khonshu tilting his head to the side in a jeering manner.

Marc sighs deeply, then gazes back at her. “I took it so nobody steals it again!”

“You sound like the British Museum,”

“The little bug does have a point,” Khonshu remarks.

Marc sulks, glancing at Khonshu with the corner of his eyes, “Shut up,”

The girl answers, “Excuse me?”

“I wasn't talking to you.”

She twitches a quizzical eyebrow, “Hello, it's just me and you here.”

Marc shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment, “Nevermind.” He sighs then gazes at her tiredly, “Look, I honestly don't mean you any harm,” He declares, “Just wanna get some info, and you're free to go, I promise,”

“Why would I ever trust anything an American say?”

Marc's eyebrow lift up; comparing this to little Shahd's reaction, he finds himself slightly irritated. But given Egypt's state at the moment, and his country's indirect string-pulling, he can't blame her actually, so he lets that slide for now.

“I'm trying to save many lives here by tracking down a group of dangerous people to stop them.”

“Who's them?”

“The ones Mr. Profile works for.”

Marc notices the sudden flinch in the girl's body. She swallows hard, “W-Why are you after them?”

“Like I told you, they're a bunch of bad guys that needs to be stopped.”

The girl darts her eyes between him and the statue, he lifts his hands up. “I have no business with this, but speaking of which.” He smirks slightly, “Why are you so interested in this? And how did you get in there if you don't work for Mr. Profile?”

“I was with a team obviously—” She cuts herself off, panic invades her face, “Wait a minute, you were the one he held them back, weren't you?”

Marc's hard expression turns into a confused one, “By team you mean that group of kids that got in my way?”

She gasps, “D-Did you kill them?”

“What? Of course not!” Marc lashes out, triggered, “They were a bunch of kids, of course I didn't kill them!”

“Then why didn't they show up in time and instead of you?!”

“So you're one of them?”

“Yes, obviously, dumbass!” She huffs, clearly irritated and unsettled. “We call ourselves the Free Preservationists, we detect stolen valuable items and give them back to their rightful owners.”

Marc lifts his eyebrows, lower lip flipped, he's clearly impressed by that. But again, he isn't going to easily to believe that, he needs more details, “Why don't you just trust the police with this stuff?”

The girl looks at him in a manner as if he said the stupidest thing on Earth, maybe he just did. “Same reason you do what you do...”

“But what do you really do?”

“Because that,” She points at the statue, “Belongs to Masr, and only Masr.”

“I like her,” Khonshu untimely comment makes Marc twitch, causing the girl to grimace, “Have a problem with that?”

Marc exhales, “Not at all, but why work in the shadows tho?” He inquires.

“Well, ever since Balaha has forced himself upon us as a president, he and his men are no different from the ones we stop; they, themselves, are involved in the sudden and big movement of stolen Egyptian relics in the black market. How do you think that get there?”

“So, according to the current law now, you and your pals are criminals?”

“Yes, pretty much so.” She agrees, “Logically, when a citizen finds a national treasure, they hand it to the authorities, they're gonna reward them some cash and host them to nonsense interviews. But it's not exactly what we do, we steal what they already have stolen, and that's the jeopardy of our job.”

“Hamiha haramiha,” [The supposed guardians are the thieves]

“Yes!” She exclaims, “Exactly,”

“What do you know about this guy,” Marc straightens his posture, “Mr. Profile.”

“He's been behind multiple smuggling deals. However, this is the first time we managed to capture him. But thanks to you, it magically failed!” She snarls.

Marc lifts his arms indignantly, “Okay, listen to me, kid—”

“I'm not a kid, goddamn it!” She squeaks, “I'm freaking twenty-two!”

Marc raises his eyebrows at the new information; her baby face is really deceiving, he thought she's at most seventeen or so.

The girl sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose before gazing back at him, “Okay, let's say you're the good guy here,” She says cautiously, “Who do you work for, huh? The CIA? MI6? A PI”

“First of all, I never said I'm the good guy, I'm just a man who tries to make things right,” Marc says.

She rolls her eyes and twitches her eyebrows, “That makes you kinda a good guy, dipshit.”

Marc bits the inside of his lower lip, trying so hard not to snap. “Second, I work alone.” He answers bluntly, frankly. “Third, I don't think that's a decent way to speak with the man who saved your preservationist ass,”

The colour of her face rises, and he's satisfied with that. “Again, if it weren't for you, we'd have a successful mission!”

“Well, same shit here!”

Marc sighs, takes a deep breath as he swips his palm over his face. “How am I supposed to know about your operation from the first place....” He realises he didn't get her name. “Sorry, I didn't catch your name...”

“Dude, are you for real...?”

“Just answer the damn questions, damn it.”

“Scar.” She answers almost immediately.

“Bullshit.” Marc blurts out.

“Yeah, says the man who claims to do the right thing by kidnapping a woman.”

“Y'know, it was a mistake.” Marc growls, “Should've left your ass right in there.”

“Well, don't recall asking your favour to save me.”

Marc's face deadpans as he eyes her stoically even though he's boiling on the inside. It's supposed to be easy; getting a couple pieces of information from a harmless girl.

Scar breathes in and out, before speaking again, “Okay, that was mean to say. I'm sorry.”

Marc sucks his teeth, waving his hand, “Doesn't matter.”

Awkward silence.

“Okay...” Scar says gingerly, “Since I told you everything, I'll be off now. Good luck with your superhero wor—”

Marc grits his teeth as he clasps her wrist, “No, you didn't, and that's up to me to decide—” A ringtone interrupts his words, and he draws his phone out of his his pocket.

“Are you for real, man?” Scar groans. “This is furthest thing from being a pro.”

Despite his unamused face, Marc ignores and speaks to the caller, “Yes, Frenchie,”

“I'm still here by the way,” Scar says after he lets her hand, and turns his back to her.

She huffs angrily, “Wo khara!” [Shit!]

“Fi wishek,” [In your face] Marc retorts calmly, not even heeding her a glance.

Scar gasps, and he allows himself to smirk, but it drops as he hears seriousness in Duchamp's voice he seldom probes, “Where did you find that madmoiselle, Marc?”

“Doesn't matter now, tell me what you got,”

“I'm afraid it does matter, my friend,” Duchamp's voice rises as he snaps a bit, “I'm sure as fuck that I told you to be careful, merd!”

Marc senses something's wrong, so he leaves the woman alone and heads to the kitchen, “What is it, buddy?” He finds his heart go rapid for no reason, a gesture he normally has when something doesn't bode well.

“Do you even have any idea about the name of the girl you've captured, smartass?”

“Well, that's why I've asked you to do some research, smartass.”

“I did, and here's the shit: the girl you dragged right into your place, her name's Layla Abdullah El-Faouly.”

Marc feels an electrified tremble pass through his entire being, as his body freezes. God, he's totally fucked. A nauseous knot coils at the tip of his stomach as a rapid image of that night flashes through his head. It begins to huddle and latch on the base of his skull, writhing achingly to gyrate around his mind.

However, he's quick to shake himself out of it this time; the adrenaline snaps him out of it. And he darts towards the room where he left her. Layla.

He opens his mouth to say something as he steps in, but he finds nobody, and the statue is no where to be found.

“Oh, fuck.”

Marc's mind shoves into deafening numbness.

#marvel moon knight #moon knight fanfic #moon knight #marclayla #marc x layla #moonscarab #marc spector x layla el faouly #layla moon knight #layla el faouly #egyptian #egyptian mythology #egyptian history #marc spector imagine #marc spector fanfic #marc x layla fanfic #marc spector #syrma writes #moon's scarab

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kudosmyhero · 10 months

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Detective Comics (vol. 1) #397: Paint a Picture of Peril!/The Hollow Man

Read Date: January 02, 2023 Cover Date: March 1970 ● Writer: Frank Robbins ● Penciler: Gil Kane ● Inker: Murphy Anderson ● Colorist: {uncredited} ● Letterer: John Costanza ● Editor: Julius Schwartz ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: (first story) ● ok, right off the bat (pun only partially intended), the art is stunning (panel, diver) ● divers attack a dock watchman, but Batman arrives before they can hit the charity thingy ● 😳 ● painting stolen was "The Startled Mermaid" by Van Der Smuts snerk ● Orson Payne obsessed for 25 years by a woman named Caterina, so he's been collecting art that looks like her ● nice ending

(second story) ● (continuation from last issue) ● she finally finds the right killer, but Jason steps in to help protect her, but his trick knee acts up and the killer gets away ● ohhhh…

Synopsis: FIRST STORY In the middle of the night, a group of mercenaries emerge from the water and climb to the docks of Gotham Bay, the place of an Art Exhibit held by Bruce Wayne. They take down the guards and a couple of them get inside one of the art galleries. Meanwhile, the group left outside is attacked by Batman, who manages to take a couple of them down before he finds himself outnumbered. The mercenaries use their harpoons to attack Batman, who collapses back to the water, giving them the chance to escape with one of the art pieces. Batman had managed to deflect one of the harpoons with his cape, but the second harpoon injured his left arm. When Batman reaches the surface, he takes a look at the missing art piece and realizes that it was one of the least valuable paints of a mermaid.

Moments later, Bruce returns to his penthouse at the Wayne Foundation and takes care of himself and his wounded arm. As he is thinking about a way to follow the mercenaries, the cleaning lady, Mrs. Cathy, enters the place and retrieves her purse and turns off the TV, which was broadcasting a show about an eccentric millionaire living in Gotham City. Mrs. Cathy's contempt was obvious, but Bruce didn't take note of it. Bruce keeps thinking of a way to follow the criminals and he remembers a lead to their whereabouts in the underwater weeds of the sea.

Using a special motorsled, Batman is able to track down the criminals to a strange location, which resembles an old European castle. In order to break inside, Batman has to take down the armed thugs in the walls of the building and once he gets in the inside grounds, he has to break into the main building. Using the trees as his cover, Batman jumps to the windows of the castle, where he is able to see an eccentric man inside, talking to several art pieces, all of which resembled the same female figure. Batman breaks into that room and demands that the man returns every stolen art piece, including the mermaid painting, but the elder man is clearly delusional and he explains how this is the only way he could stay close to that woman, who was an opera singer he met years ago and refused his love.

The elder millionaire arms himself with a crossbow and attacks Batman, forcing the Dark Knight to chase him across the castle. The elder man uses his knowledge of the place and Batman falls for deadly traps, but he manages to break out using his wits, gadgets and athletic nature. When Batman has finally cornered the elder millionaire, the man starts having a vision of his beloved Caterine and he folows her ghostly figure until he falls from an upper balcony of the castle. Batman swings through a lower window using his Batrope and saves the madman from a certain death, putting an end to his days of lunacy and art larceny.

Afterwards, Bruce is back in his penthouse and he is watching the TV as the news report that the elder millionaire has been placed in a mental hospital. At that moment, Mrs. Cathy turns the TV off again and Bruce finally realizes that she has aversion towards that man. Taking a guess, Bruce asks her if she was an opera singer in her youth and she replies that she was in fact, but that she retired after an obsessed man chased her across the country and forced her to go incognito. In the end, Mrs. Cathy asks Bruce to keep the secret and Bruce assures her that he knows how to keep a secret.

SECOND STORY Believing her computer-matched date is the Orchid Killer, Barbara Gordon follows after him as Batgirl, only to lose him and to get attacked by a man hiding out in a dark alley. At first she believes it's Max until she see's the persons face is that of a handsome man. This attacker knocks her out, and later Batgirl comes too to find Max who explains that he arrived and scared off her attacker. With this date a bust, she sets up a new one as Barbara Gordon. Her second date is with a man named John Milman who quickly freaks out and attacks her, but is stopped by the arrival of Jason Bard, however Bard's bad knee fails him again and Milman manages to get away.

Tracking Milman to his home as Batgirl, she breaks in and attacks a man packing a suit case there to discover that it's the man who attacked in her in the alley the night before. Gaining the upper hand the easily defeats him and finds that he was both Max and Milman, and would disguise himself with masks. When she asks him why he committed the murders he explains it was because women never saw his inner beauty only falling for his good looks and it eventually drove him mad. After listening to his reason, a disgusted Batgirl turns him over to police.

(https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Detective_Comics_Vol_1_397)

Fan Art: Batgirl No. 25 by AlexGarner

Accompanying Podcast: ● Batgirl to Oracle - episode 09

#dc #dc comics #my dc read #podcast recommendation #comics #comic books #fan art #fanart #detective comics #podcast - batgirl to oracle #batgirl #barbara gordon #curators of tumblr

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nanagoswife · 1 year

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I posted 1,983 times in 2022

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#i was drawing his goggles in one comic and i couldn't stop laughing how they looked like googly eyes ahhaahahhaah

My Top Posts in 2022:

Broken Resolve

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: For years Obi-Wan has pretended that he has no more feelings for you than an average friend would. But, with the events that took place on Naboo, he’s not too sure he can keep those feelings in.

W/C: 2.7k

Warnings: angst, mention of Qui-Gon’s death

A/N: Yes, I know I originally said there’d be a specific part to add to this, but I’m just so damn proud of what I’ve been able to do with this fic so far. That and I am absolute trash at writing smut so it takes me a lot longer. I should have that done soon though but for now, I really hope you enjoy this!

- - -

He hasn’t been able to see you this whole time. Well, it was more like he hasn’t been able to talk to you this whole time.

It’s been three days since you arrived on Naboo. Between Obi-Wan being caught up in the aftermath of the battle with the Sith Lord and you being assigned as protection detail of Queen Amidala, the first day created no opportunity. The second day was Obi-Wan’s meeting with Yoda, being knighted and taking on Anakin as his padawan.

Then, there was the funeral for his master. The two of you had only been able to share a longing glance as the two of you stood beside each other. In it was an attempt from you to comfort him through the force. The warm, comforting feeling had surrounded him and he felt himself relax for the first time since the first visit to Naboo.

The two of you had been friends for so long. You trained together, studied together, and had the same circle of friends. In your spare hours, even when the others weren’t available, you two were always still doing something together.

You two talked about anything and everything. He would confide in you and you would confide in him.

It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that he realized he felt more than usual. At first, Obi-Wan didn’t know what it meant. He thought that it may have just been the fact that you were so close with each other; that it was the way your bond in the force was strengthening.

Well, that wasn’t entirely wrong. Though, as Obi-Wan’s eyes meet yours among the celebrating crowd, he knows exactly what it was. Maybe it’s because he wasn’t supposed to feel this way that he didn’t realize it before. Yes, there had been moments where the thought had trudged its way to the forefront of his mind, but he had never indulged it.

For the longest time, he knew those feelings towards you were wrong. It was against the code and he had experienced what it could be like when one gets an attachment.

Yet, with you, it was different. Through these years it was almost as if he had proven it to himself.

Attachments aren’t always a path to the dark side.

He knew that now, though, he definitely shouldn’t be having these thoughts. Not when the council especially will be watching him. It’s no secret how Obi-Wan acted when he had seen the Sith Lord strike down Qui-Gon. How he had acted in anger and hatred rather than letting go and acting with a clear mind.

With that considered, Obi-Wan knew that meant they’d watch to see if he’s been corrupted.

Still, though, as his eyes meet yours in the bright Naboo sun, he couldn’t help the feelings that flooded him. He knew in that exact moment, while he stopped denying what it was, that he loved you. It was only amplified as he felt your familiar warmth and comfort flow through your bond in the force. You were telling him how proud you were of him and that he wasn’t alone.

Obi-Wan sent a small smirk your way before it fell as he felt Anakin’s hand tug his sleeve.

“Will we be leaving today?” he asks.

Once again, Obi-Wan smiles. “No, little one. You can go say hi to the queen. I’m sure she’ll be happy to speak with you.”

The boy beams before running off. As Obi-Wan stands back up, he catches sight of Master Yoda and Master Windu talking to one another. He can see the way they subtly glance towards him and it brings reality crashing back into focus. He’s a Jedi. He’s no longer a padawan learner where mistakes and certain code breaks were more tolerable. He now has a young boy that needs to be trained and taught this code and how would it look if Obi-Wan didn’t provide that example? No, he’d keep the relationship between him and you strictly platonic. It had to. No matter how much it killed him.

And yet, as he looked back over in your direction, he couldn’t help the disappointment that filled him when you were no longer there. There were too many people in the crowd to be able to spot you. He tried to reach out through the force, but he was met by nothing. There was just an empty void where your warmth was just moments ago.

“Your thoughts betray you,” is what your master had once said. Mind you, it’s a line said to many padawans as they get older. It’s a line that’s often said to naïve children who don’t understand why attachments can be dangerous. It was a line you had heard from your master when they feared that you and Obi-Wan were too close.

Although, you weren’t. You and Obi-Wan were only friends. At least, that’s what you’ve told yourself until recently. There was more there whether it was allowed or not. Whether it was reciprocated or one-sided, you weren’t sure. You didn’t think you’d ever know the true answer to that. All you could do was assume and that’s never a good route to go down. Most of all, it’s a dangerous one.

Now, as you stand out on one of the balconies watching the sun go down, you allowed yourself to think. It started off by wondering how Obi-Wan was fairing. So much had happened in such little time and none of it has allowed him to grieve. Even if it was just for a minute. It’s all been time filled with one thing or the other while having to watch the young Anakin Skywalker on top of it all.

When you had first seen Obi-Wan the day you arrived, or when you stood next to him at his master’s funeral, you could feel the flicker of sorrow from him. It was minuscule but it was there. Along side the new pressure of not only being a master, but the master of the chosen one.

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833 notes - Posted March 14, 2022

Tense

Version One *SFW* | Version Two

Summary: Gojo practically kidnaps you because of how tense Nanami seems to be

W/C: 4.4k

Warnings: unedited😅, suggestive themes, technically breaking and entering, praise kink, oral (f receiving), a bit of roughness, overstimulation?, unprotected sex, cockwarming, shower scene, I think that’s it

A/N: Hey👋🏻😅 so, I’m not the best at writing stuff like this. So, I apologize for how bad it possibly is in advance

- - -

A scream tears past your lips as Gojo Satoru suddenly appears by your side. You were in the middle of brushing your teeth, causing you to nearly choke on the foam.

You spit it out, turning towards the man ready to scold him about how you told him to stop doing that. He often did it just for fun because he loved to scare you and tease you about it. Though, after warping in during a… compromising scene between you and his friend, you made him swear to stop it. The teasing about the situation from Gojo was an unstoppable force, though.

Before you could get the words out though, you notice that his usual smirk is not there. Instead, his lips are pressed into a thin line. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he’s worried.

“Gojo. What’s going on? I thought-”

“Yeah, yeah, no warping in randomly anymore. This isn’t for my entertainment this time,” he says before grabbing your wrist and pulling you along with him. He better be thankful that the two of you are long time friends and, if that weren’t the case, you’d have punched him senseless by now. Though, it is tempting.

Instead, you try to pull your hand out of his grip instead of going willingly. “What the hell, Satoru?”

“It’s Nanami,” he says, not looking back at you as he continues to bring you to the front door of your apartment.

Worry immediately fills you. Unlike you, Nanami didn’t have a day off and had to tend to the jujutsu world. Though, he did mention that he was just helping around the school and possibly helping out with the students. He never said anything about going out on any sort of mission. Did that change? Did Gojo drag him into his own mission when you knew fully well that he could’ve dealt with it on his own? He is the strongest sorcerer, afterall. You just wanted to know what happened.

“What happened to him?” you ask after he, thankfully, let you at least put on shoes before stepping through the door.

Gojo doesn’t answer you, just continues to pull you along until you see your surroundings change. You nearly stumble, not expecting the surface you’re walking on to change from a flat surface to cement stairs at the Tokyo Jujutsu High.

That’s when your friend turns around with a smirk curling up the corners of his lips. It’s a teasing look that tells you that you should be disappointed that you’ve fallen for his antics again.

You groan, scrubbing your hand over your face as he begins to chuckle. “Well, at least I knew you weren’t with Nanami this time,” he teases and, if he wasn’t wearing his blindfold, you swear you would’ve seen him wink before turning to walk up the steps.

All you do is roll your eyes before catching up to him. You know that, even if it was to go back to the old ways, he wouldn’t have brought you to the school for entirely no reason. There was something he wanted.

“What is it about then?” you ask, strolling the school grounds with Gojo. You notice he’s bringing you to the field. “I swear, if you brought me here on my one day off to teach the students I will punch you right now.”

He gives you a cheeky smirk. “You can certainly try.”

You roll your eyes before stepping through the arch so you can see the field. The first and second years are all together. Megumi, Maki, and Toge are in the middle of a conversation. You assume they’re discussing some sort of sparring technique as Megumi and Maki both hold staffs. Panda and Nobara are doing their usual ‘falling’ practice.

Then, you see the back of a familiar blonde head who seems to be discussing something with Yuji. You don’t know what it’s about, but the boy has a smile across his face. It makes you think, despite how much Nanami may deny it, that he’s truly good with kids. You don’t think you’ve ever really seen Yuji in Nanami’s presence without a smile. Plus, if he can deal with Gojo, he can deal with anything.

“To finally answer your question,” Gojo starts as he leans his shoulder into yours, “he seems a little tense. Thought you could loosen him up.”

The teasing lilt his tone takes on makes you scoff. Despite that, you can see there’s actually truth to his statement. Nanami’s posture seems more rigid than usual and you can tell he’s trying to force himself to relax. A flash of guilt flutters through your chest as you think you know the reason.

You and Nanami haven’t seen each other in a week. You had been on an assignment in Sapporo and you got back last night. Sure, there were calls and texts, but you wanted to be able to see him and he wanted to see you. However, Nanami was busy with exorcizing a curse here in Tokyo. By the time he was done, you were already asleep, exhausted from your own time away. You knew he didn’t want to wake you, so he didn’t come over. Even if he had the spare set of keys to your apartment.

Both you and Gojo stop at the top of the stairs to watch for a moment until a pair of brown eyes catch sight of you. The boy’s smile widens as he waves and calls out, “Gojo-sensei, Y/N-sensei, hi!”

Everyone turns at Yuji’s call to look at you and Gojo. Though, it’s one specific sorcerer’s gaze that really has you smiling as you begin to make your way down the stairs.

Nanami looks at you as if it’s the first time and you have to hide the way it makes your breath hitch. You’d never hear the end of it if the man beside you caught it.

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1,038 notes - Posted April 15, 2022

Gojo isn’t Jealous

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, jealousy sex, wall sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, slight degradation?, possessiveness, biting, marking, rough sex, fingering, edging, unedited

- - -

“Have fun with Nanamin?” Gojo says slightly bitterly as you make your way into your apartment. You told him that you’d be home late. All due to the fact that you were doing something with the first grade sorcerer. However, nights like this have been going on for just over a month now.

There’s a moment’s pause when he speaks. Mind you, he was sitting in your living room without any lights on. So how could you know your boyfriend was there?

“I thought I said to not wait up,” you say softly, a tired sigh leaving you as you drop your bag to the floor. “You need your sleep more than anyone, ‘Toru,” you add, pressing your back against the cool wall.

Gojo stands from the couch, stalking towards you. A small flicker of fear fills rises at the sight. It’s almost as if you’ve become his prey. If it weren’t for the uncertainty of what’s going on, this would probably send heat gathering in your lower belly. Unfortunately, that uncertainty is there. It doesn’t help that the room is dark and the only light that’s provided is coming from the streetlights.

Then, “Exactly how close are you with him?”

Once again you freeze. This time for a different reason. It’s to try and stop yourself from laughing at the insinuation. He must think that you and Nanami have grown closer than just friends. Well, it’s not like your late nights are helping with that. That, though, isn’t your fault. Not when you’ve been working to track down a curse user that’s fallen off the grid. Every time you get close, the two of you lose them yet again.

Still, when you look at it, you can see how anyone could come to the same conclusion as Gojo. You and Nanami were good friends but nothing more.

“Satoru,” you start as he draws ever closer to you, “nothing is going on.” You pause a moment, smiling a little to yourself at the thought. “Are you jealous?” you ask in a slightly teasing tone.

The teasing grin you wore is quickly replaced with surprise as he pins you to the wall. Blue eyes bore into yours as his hands hold your wrists above your head. His warm breath fans over your lips as he presses up against you. He angles himself in a way that you can feel his hard length through his sweatpants.

“How can I not when another man gets more time with you than I do,” he states lowly.

Gojo dips his head to graze his teeth along your jaw, causing a chill to run down your spine. Slowly, he starts lightly thrusting against you and you bite your lip when he lets out a pleasured groan. If you don’t say anything now, he’ll keep torturing you like this. You need to say something so that you can make up for lost time.

However, as you open your mouth to say you can show him you’re only his, his hands drop from your wrists. They move to hook under the backs of your thighs so he can lift you. A small squeal escapes you as you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. There’s no time wasted in your boyfriend now pressing his clothed erection against your core.

“‘Toru,” you whine as his lips find their place where your jaw meets your neck, “let me- mmm- let me make it up to you. For lost time.”

Your fingers thread through his soft white hair as Gojo’s lips trail up until they meet yours. There’s no hesitation from you as you return the eager and desperate kiss. Unfortunately, he pulls away which causes you to whine from the loss. You tried to chase his lips but you were rewarded with nothing.

“So needy,” he teases, one of his hands moving to slide in between your bodies, “is the rest of you just as desperate?”

It’s only a second later that his hand is slipping under the hem of your skirt and panties. Gojo slides his fingers through your folds just to find them absolutely soaking as you arch into his touch. A smug grin spreads his lips as he looks up at you. It only grows as he sees your eyes shut in pleasure, your head thrown back against the wall, just from this small touch.

“Look at you,” he drawls, “I’ve barely even started and your pretty little cunt is already begging for me to fill it up, hm?” A dark chuckle escapes him before he adds, “Does Nanami have the same effect on you?”

Your eyes widen in shock but, before you can respond, Gojo is pushing two fingers into you. A sharp moan escapes you as your fingers slightly tighten in his hair. It seems like his ego is growing with each reaction he’s pulling from you and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. Especially with the fact that seeing your boyfriend jealous is absolutely attractive.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any more,” Gojo says suddenly, once again keeping you from answering him. Not only that but it rips your growing high away. So, as he removes his fingers from inside of you, you whine from the loss. Once again, his smug smile grows. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna fill you up even better.”

With that, he shifts to push down his pants. Gojo shifts your skirt higher up and, instead of pushing them to the side, he rips the thin material of your panties off.

On a normal day you’d probably be upset with him. Now, though, it only fuels your desire for him. To know he’s so desperate to stuff you and make you completely forget about everything except for him has you in anticipation for what’s to come.

“I’m going to claim you,” Gojo growls just before shoving his cock into you in one push. You throw your head back with a breathy moan as you pull him closer. “I won’t stop until you understand that you only belong to me.”

The only thing you can manage is nod before he’s slamming his hips up into yours. It has you calling out in pleasure, dragging him in so his lips meet yours as he starts his hard thrusts. They’re not particularly fast but each brushes your sweet spot, his tip kissing your cervix on nearly each one.

Gojo’s pulls back from your kiss only to dip down to your neck and immediately starts sucking on your skin. He doesn’t leave it with just one spot made blue and purple either. His lips and tongue seem to not leave a single inch of you neck unmarked. Well, he’s at least making sure that they’re low enough that they’ll be mostly covered by your clothes. Mostly.

“‘Toru,” you moan, groaning in pleasure when he bites the sliver of exposed collarbone. “Faster. I need you to go faster please.”

That familiar smug grin is back on his lips and you can’t help the way your breath hitches when you see him now. As his eyes meet yours, his pupils are blown out in lust. Sweat is making the hairs over his forehead damp and his hair is messy from your hands. It’s a look that has a whole new feeling of arousal pooling in your lower belly. That’s not even including what he says next.

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1,093 notes - Posted July 25, 2022

Best Friends are Double the Trouble

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Nanami x reader x Gojo

Summary: When your two soon-to-be-married friends I produce you to two of their friends, you find yourself drawn to them despite how much you didn't want to.

W/C: 5.7k

Warnings: oral (fem receiving), fingering, breast play, praise kink, semi-public (they're in an office), biting, threesome (but not much happens. That's the next part😉), probably ooc Geto

A/N: Welcome to my fantasy

- - -

“You really need to meet them!” your friend, Akane, says excitedly as she leans on your desk beside you. “Suguru has known them for ages and I think the three of you would hit it off.”

You glare at your friend for a moment before turning back to your computer. “If you’re implying what I think-“

“No, that’s not what I’m talking about. For once.”

That makes you give her another glare, unbelieving of her actual intentions. Akane has been trying to set you up with men left, right and centre. To your dismay, most of them have been friends with her boyfriend, Geto Suguru. It’s not that he doesn’t keep good company, it’s just that you don’t want to get tangled up with a friend of his that could affect their friendship in the future.

“Seriously!” your friend calls out in a defensive tone, “They really are nice. Plus, you should get to know them. You know, since you’re my best friend and they’re my boyfriend’s best friends. One way or another you’ll cross paths with them.”

There’s a devilish grin that spreads across her lips, causing her deep brown eyes to crinkle in a way that kind of scares you. Only because it means she already had something planned with or without a positive answer from you.

You sigh, pushing your chair back and meeting her eyes. “Let me guess. They’ll be at the dinner party tonight.”

“No escaping this time,” she says along with a maniacal laugh, eliciting an eye roll from you. “Come on! I won’t force you to spend the whole evening talking. You can spend the time talking with me but only if you at least let me introduce you to them.”

Another sigh from you, your shoulders sagging as you give in. “Fine. Only because you want me to.”

You ignore her mini celebration as you turn back to your work. However, you know that you won’t be able to pry yourself away from her tonight either. Especially since you know the exact reason why Geto planned this whole dinner get together. So, one way or another, you’re going to have to acquaint yourself with Geto’s two best friends and you’ll be able to keep Akane from setting you up with either of them.

“Now, I’ll be back here to get you. You better be done your work by the time I get here,” your friend says with an accusatory finger point.

“Yes, Akane-sama.”

She scoffs before pushing off of your desk and walking to your office door. “Five o’clock! You better be ready.”

You roll your eyes with a humorous shake of your head. If this is how she is just during the work day, you have no idea just how much worse she’ll be this evening. Either way, you’re glad to see her in such a good mood.

“How are you feeling, Geto-kun?” you ask while you playfully nudge his ribs with your elbow. It causes him to chuckle lightly as he wraps an arm around you.

“Just nervous I might say the wrong thing. Other than that, I’m excited. Thanks for coming to help set up as well.”

You give him a smile, wrapping your own arm around his back to tug him into your side. “I’m sure everything will go great. She loves you and she’ll be more than happy no matter what you say.”

Geto smiles at you gratefully. The two of you have been friends since before he met Akane. However, you did know Akane for longer. It was due to you having a party that your two close friends met and immediately hit it off. You had the honour of watching their friendship bloom into love and now to this night. Today, Geto was going to propose. Hence the reason why this get together was happening. Your friend wanted all of your close friends to bear witness and you couldn’t be more happy for the pair.

“You’re right. Man, I’m glad Satoru isn’t here. He’d be endlessly teasing me about all of this.”

You chuckle. “What about the other one? Nanami was it?”

“Let me guess, you know their names because Akane wants to set you up with one of them.”

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1,425 notes - Posted June 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Own Me

Summary: Gojo treated you and Nanami for your anniversary. So, you both don't let it go to waste.

W/C: 8.8k😳

Warnings: dom!nanami, degradation, piv, rough sex, oral (fem&male receiving), bondage, blindfolding, lingerie sex, marking, biting, cock warming, praise kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, daddy kink, thigh riding, punishments, edging, unedited

A/N: So, this is VERY unedited so I apologise for any grammatical errors in advance. Also, this is very much nearly nine thousand words of pure porn without a plot. So, enjoy this thing that originally wasn't supposed to be more than 3k words

- - -

“I’ve got you,” Nanami whispers in your ear, his chest pressing against your back. He presses a kiss just below your ear, hands tightening their grip on your hips. Then he orders lowly, “Turn for me.”

You do as he says and meet his dark lustful eyes. It makes your breath hitch as you watch him shed his coat. His form is imposing but you feel your face heat up at just how attractive he is. It doesn’t matter that you’ve been together for years, he always has this effect on you and tonight is going to be one to remember. The fact that it was your anniversary wasn’t the only reason.

“I want you to own me.” The words are still ringing clearly through Kento’s mind. The way you looked up at him through your lashes; how your hands gently traced circles over his chest; your hand trailing dangerously up his thigh while he drove back from your anniversary party that Gojo had thrown. All of it was fresh in his mind but those words were the ones he focused on. Those and the, “I want you to use me, Kento. I trust you. Just like always.”

Well, how could he refuse you? He’d be a fool to say no to you especially since it’s been a while since he’s done something like this with you. It would’ve been a more common occurrence had it not been for both his job and yours stealing that time away. Now the two of you had all night and Gojo had made sure the two of you would have all of tomorrow for quality time. There was no more need to rush.

Now, he leans forward, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he mutters, “I seem to recall there being a better use of my tie.”

In the next moment you’re untying Kento’s tie, pulling back to meet his eyes. “May I take your shirt off before you tie me up?” You give him puppy dog eyes as your tone is lightly pleading. He was going to make you beg for it but the way your fingers trail over his chest as you slip his tie from his neck has him shuttering and losing his restraint.

Well, for now.

“Just the shirt,” he says firmly, slipping his tie from your grasp and stuffing it in his pocket. The way your eyes gleam tells him exactly what words are going to spill from your lips next. Just the anticipation has his heart racing. It’s been so long since the two of you have done this and what you’re about to call him has always spurred him on.

“Yes, daddy,” you say sweetly, your fingers slowly starting on his shirt buttons. The combination of your touch and the name has him fighting the shutter that threatens to flow through his body. He can’t give up when the two of you have only just started.

He lets you get a few buttons undone before grabbing your wrists and stopping you. A confused look takes over your features before he leads you towards the chair in the corner of the hotel room (courtesy of Gojo Satoru) and he sits.

Spreading his legs, he pulls you in between them and lets your wrists go. “Strip for me.”

You do as he says, slowly stripping away your clothing. Kento can feel the way his slacks continually grow tighter as you let each article of clothing fall to the ground. They grow even tighter as you reveal the lingerie set he bought for you last Christmas. He hadn’t seen you in it since and now he’s looking forward to tonight even more than he was before. You more than know how it makes him feel when you wear it.

He sees your hands move to remove the lacy set of undergarments and that has his hand reaching to grab your wrists again.

“Did I tell you to take that off,” he growls lowly, his free hand moving to your ass and squeezing the soft flesh.

Quickly, you shake your head. “No daddy.”

“This stays,” he orders with a light smack to your ass.

You nod, your cheeks heating as you offer a, “Yes daddy,” which has his head quirking to the side in curiosity.

“What’s my baby thinking?” he whispers into your ear before pressing a kiss to your jaw, trailing down to your shoulder. “Are you remembering Christmas and how I fucked you in this set all night?” he asks seductively against your shoulder, his hand on your ass massaging the flesh.

“I am,” you breathe out, enjoying the way Kento sucks the skin at the juncture of your neck. “I’m also thinking of the way you held me after all of that.”

“Now, now. Don’t get all soft on me now,” he says against your skin with a smirk, pressing one more kiss before pulling back. “We haven’t even started.”

Kento gets comfortable again and pats his thigh. You don’t hesitate to straddle that leg. “Continue,” he says as he draws your hands to his chest. However, he doesn’t let go of your wrists and instead leans forward to place a kiss on your neck. He watches as goosebumps spread across your skin and he smiles as he orders, “Ride my thigh while you do it, sweetheart. Daddy wants to watch you.”

You eagerly nod but he still doesn’t let your wrists go.

“Use your words, baby,” he coos as his free hand slowly moves towards the buttons of his shirt and starts to undo one, “or else I’ll be more than happy to get myself off while you only watch.”

It’s a lie, you both know it. However, that threat is a familiar one that he has gone through with before when you weren’t listening. Now, though, even though it’s a lie, you want to comply. You were the one to ask, afterall. So, you let your eyes widen in panic as he almost finishes with the button which makes him pause.

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6,284 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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treasureswordsgirl55 · 2 years

Text

Inappropriate Thoughts

Character: Marc Spector / Mr. Knight

Pairing: Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Inspired by: "new posters" especially Mr. Knight poster

Mentions: About DID.

Warnings ⚠️: Sexual Tension. No Smut. Implied sexual references. Jokes. Nights. Fears. Worried about Reader. Friends. Site in New York. Post!Endgame.

Author's Note: Hello everyone!

I hope you're doing well, I will be brief: I still don't know how I wrote this. But that poster triggered things in my brain and in my imagination.

Because I admit, he looks pretty good like that.

And more fics like these will come... I assure you.

I ask you, if you like it, I would appreciate it if you would reblog it or comment on what you thought because it would mean a lot.

XOXO 😘

- You will kill me, you know that, right?

I shake my head as soon as I turn around and see his silhouette completely covered in that expensive white cloth that identifies his identity as Mr. Knight.

- What are you doing here, Marc?

I allow myself to call him by his name because I know that here, it's just the two of us in this lonely street.

- I'll accompany you home.

I roll my eyes and hold back at his almost childlike fake-innocent tone until he's in the same leve with me and I do nothing but glare at him.

He shakes his head in denial, extends his glove-covered hand to the strap of my bag, removes it from my shoulder, and while placing it on his, tells me to keep walking, placing both hands in his pants pockets. We do it in silence for a few minutes, but the sound of the bus passing makes us both look up from the ground. I flatly refuse to look at him because that small gesture is too much for my poor heart.

- Thanks for coming. But it wasn't necessary.

- Of course it is. I don't like you walking around here alone - Some of the few people who pass us greet him with a wave, a smile or call him by name, but it is inevitable for them to smile when he sees him with a yellow bag that is a clear contrast against his white suit and mask. Anyone who didn't know him would say he came from a comic book convention - It's dangerous, darling.

The only problem with that mask is that it hides the beauty of the face underneath.

- I didn't think affectionate nicknames be your thing, Spector.

- I do what I can...

I smile as we reach the bus stop and as if by magic, one of them stops in front of us.

- Get on - I let myself be carried away by the serious tone of his voice while he indicates the doors of the bus, hands me the backpack and I look for a second at the driver who only nods his head towards Marc, or should I say, towards Mr Knight.

- But... - I don't want to get away from him. His work already kept him too far away from me and I only saw him randomly a couple of times a month. I don't want this to end so soon - I can walk with you a couple more blocks.

He doesn't answer and just looks around as if someone is chasing us. He shakes his head at my look of regret that I can't hide and gives me a little nudge in the small of my back, a touch that triggers many unconscious reactions in my body.

- Come on up, please.

- I hate you - I want to get mad at him but I can't. He mutters that phrase to me, but a throat clearing confirms that he heard me.

- I don't think so... Come on up.

The driver looks at him in amazement without even hiding it and I hurry up the steps without even turning to look at him. I refuse to give him the pleasure of basking in my sad gaze as he disappears into the darkness of the night without even looking back.

I'm not going to let him think it's hard for me not to think about him. Especially when I know it's true, especially when he's wearing that damn white three-piece suit.

I try to think of something else but the only thought that comes to me is one where it's just the two of us and I'm more than focused on getting it off him.

I sit in one of the empty double seats and within seconds, I feel someone occupy the seat next to me.

- Don't you dare say a single word about this.

I let out a laugh when I see Marc scramble into his seemingly small seat and after cursing, he just folds his arms as we ride in silence in the middle of the night.

We continue like this until we get to my apartment, none of them says a single word and it's still hard for me to see his face knowing that I can't read his expressions because of that piece of white cloth that covers his face. It's the aspect of Mr. Knight that I hate the most.

I look in my pocket for the key, and when I can't find it, I reach for it in my backpack, but I'm distracted by the tapping of her fingers against the cream-patterned blue wall.

- Why don't you do your magic or bibidi babidi bu and open the door if you're so impatient?

He rolls his eyes as he stops hitting the wall.

- You know things don't work in that way.

- Do not tell me. I just found out, Mr Knight. I did not know it. I'm sorry - My voice is tinged with sarcasm while the only answer I get from him is a laugh - Are you laughing at me now?

- I like it when you're upset - he admits without a hint of guilt and brushes my arm with his gloved hand. I stop myself from moaning as I feel the softness of the fabric and the delicacy of his touch and put on a show for his ego - I just want you to be okay.

- I was fine without you behind my back....

"Although it would be better if you were on me, with this suit and that hand in other places that I won't even pronounce in my thoughts..."

- You have to take better care of yourself, darling. I already have enough with New York without having to keep an eye on you and your steps.

- It wasn't something I asked of you, Marc.

Ignore how my mind screams at me to unleash my nightly fantasies and I turn away from him to keep my sanity.

- But I want to do it. Let me take care of you while I can.

- Whatever you say - I open the apartment door and enter without even closing the door because I know it's coming after me - Answer me one thing, why did you choose this colour? And why wear a suit?

- Elegance - his answer comes to the second without the slightest hint of doubt - He likes it. We all like. It is the color of the moon. Men finds it intimidating and women finds it attractive. I don't know... - I feel the sincerity in his voice and I turn around at the same time I see him sit on a stool in my kitchen as if it were his apartment, which is across from mine, in the building when crossing the street. He takes off his jacket and places it delicately on the other empty stool next to him while I make two cups of tea and set one on the table in front of him. He don't have to take off the mask to know that he is frowning in clear sign of displeasure - Don't you have something stronger?

- We don't drink alcohol here, sorry.

He lifts his mask up a bit and takes a sip of tea and I can't help but look at his neck and see how it moves every second a sip of drink passes down his throat.

How the hell did I find that so attractive?

- Enjoying the view? - I look up and look at his brown eyes that shine with amusement. He had caught me and I couldn't deny it. He shrugs at me as I take a sip of my drink and I watch as he unbuttons his shirt sleeves and rolls them up to his elbows.

And at this point it is already impossible for me to contain the sigh that escapes from my lips.

- If you keep doing that, you'll have a serious problem.

For a moment I regret throwing away the bottle of vodka I bought on impulse last month.

- Doing what?

- Nothing. Forget what I said.

His eyes are curious and I can tell he's smiling, as if he's caught a little mouse trying to get out of his hands.

- You can tell me what you feel, maybe I can even help you.

- Don't push your luck, Spector.

- I like to do it. More if I will get something more than just a chat with you - I feel a shiver run down my spine when I hear the change in his tone of voice and the first image that appears in my mind involves us both, my room and without any clothes.

I have to go to confession after this.

- You will not get more than my invitation to withdraw from my department.

He motions for the door nonchalantly and he chuckles as he gets up, but I hardly think he's going to walk there, I'm blinking at my side as he pins me against the kitchen island.

- Do you really want me to leave? -His hands go up both sides of my arms and I can't help but hide the tremor that his touch generates in me. He lets out a snort accompanied by a laugh - You may tell me yes, but your body says something else.

- These are wrong signals. I'm cold.

- You lie - I try to move away but his brown eyes, which now have a wicked shine, keep me in place while he plays with the laces of my shirt - You want my touch. You want me to stay here and maybe I can fulfill some of the thoughts you have in that beautiful head.

- Now you read minds?

- No, but I know what you think when you see me - his voice drops a few decibels and I feel that his whisper reaches the depths of my being - You want my full attention on you. And everywhere. You just have to ask for it.

I feel like my heart is going to jump out of my chest or stop beating at any moment if he keeps talking.

- Tell me you want me and I'm yours.

- Marc...

- No, this time I'm Mr. Knight for you. I will be the one to fulfill the fantasies that are in your head... And maybe he will help me with it.

- What are you talking about?

- That the moon gives me greater strength in many aspects besides the fights, and in this one it will too.

I reach out to touch the buttons on his vest and lose myself in the brush of his fingers on my neck as well as in his closeness.

- Take your mask off.

- The halo of mystery will disappear. So no.

- I want to see you. I want to feel your lips on mine and tangle my fingers in your hair, and with the damn mask I can't.

He laughs out loud as he pulls away from him slightly and seems to think about it, but when he reaches up to his head to remove his mask, his cell phone starts ringing...

"Day and night...." 🎶

- Dammit...

- Will you answer?

- I must - he sighs as he walks away and I hear him ask Reese, his secretary, a series of questions. He's back in a minute as he grabs the jacket and puts it on quickly - I have to go. Some problems have arisen.

My attraction and libido deflate and I see him reach out to take my hand and bring it to his lips.

He leaves a kiss on her and walks away from me towards the door.

- This will not stay like this. You will be mine, in all the ways that you have imagined and in ways that I will teach you, as well as in every way. Don't forget.

#marvel cinematic universe #marvel #fanfic writer #marvel fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #mr knight x reader #marc spector #steven grant #mr knight #i write for myself but you can read it too

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maleyanderecafe · 2 years

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Manga/Webcomic Recommendations Masterlist

Manga/Webtoons/Manhwa/Comics

OneShots

Best Friends

Primary Target

Snuff Film Monologue

A Gentle Cage

A Gentle Crime

The Lost Prince

Death Chants His Laments

Dear My Living Dead

They Who Shouldn’t Have Loved, The Story of their Cursed Love

A Helpless Childhood Friend

Chotto kiken na amaama Onii-san & Assassin x Cinderella

Yandere Vs. Yandere

Hysteria

LifeLine

My Menhara Boyfriend

Isekai

The King’s Very Troublesome Marriage Proposal

This Time I Will Definitely Be Happy

Soushikikan to Watashi no Jijou

If I Happened to Tame my Brother Well

Isekai Shoukan Wa Nidome Desu

The Banished Villainess! Living the Leisurely Life of a Nun Making Revolutionary Church Food

The Extra Refuses Excessive Obsession

Marilyn Likes Lariensa Too Much!

Caught by the Villain

I Have Become the Hero's Rival

Please, Let Me Return Home

From Knight to Lady

A False Confession

I'll Twist the Neck of a Sweet Dog

The Tyrant's Tranquilizer

Crows Like Things that Sparkle

My Childhood Friend became an Obsessive Husband

Finding Camellia

A Heart for the Emperor

When the Villainess Loves

The Villiainess needs her Tyrant

The Little Princess and Her Monster Prince

I Hold the Tyrant’s Heart

Male Lead, I'll Respect Your Taste

The Prince Relies on Me

Webtoons/Manhwa

It’s Mine

Save Me

For Alice

340 Days

You at First Sight

He’s Harmless, I Swear!

Oath

I Don’t Want This Kind Of Hero

Fox King’s Only Lover

Mr. Fu’s Favorite

The Red Fox

Appetite

The Male Lead is a Murderer

Mask Off

Distorted Desires

Perfect Mine

Pestered by the Yandere Once Again

Paper Cuts

A Kind Goblin's Bird

Agatha

I’m a Wolf, but I Won’t Harm You

The Script

Searching for my Father

When A Thousand Moons Rise

My Gently Raised Beast

Raising a Dragon Prince

The Tainted Half

Idyllic Island

Under the Oak Tree

I Tamed My Ex-Husband’s Mad Dog

My Angelic Husband is Actually the Devil in Disguise

When Jasy Whistles

Magical Package Lilaca

Yaoi Manga/Webtoons

Katakoi Opera

Ouji no Hakoniwa

Mitto Mo Nai Koi

Doronuma

Innocent Love

Brilli

The Man that was Buried Alive

Similar Terms

Perverted Love and Secret

You Control Me

Stalker x Stalker

My Perverted Stalker

My Desire for You Just Begins

Vivarium

Ripe When the Flowers Bloom

Raising a Sacrifice

Kidnapped BL

What Happens if you have a Possessive Yandere Boyfriend?

A Fine Line

Easy to Read

The “Flow” In Flower & Satoshi and Kakeru

Chase the Dragon

The Twisted Obsession of His Highness

Make You Mine

The Fallen Duke & The Knight Who Hated Him

Smut/Josei

Kare Joshi Kasahara Ichika (25) ha Hentai ni Sukare yasui -Elite Megane ha Stalker

If you are Reincarnated as the Villain Mob’s daughter, you will be favored by the Strongest Prince who is not Captured

Stalker Shachou no Kareinaru Kyukon ~16-nenkan Suki Datta Nante Kiitemasen~

Everything About You is Mine

The Strongest Knightess Cannot Escape An Obsessive Prince!

Kimi no Tamenara Nandemo Suruyo Kyouaidanshi ni Torawarete

A Gentle Sea Monster and a Lonely Girl

BORDER LINE ~My Fiendish Chinese Classmate's Psychotic Infatuation~

Now, My Lady, It's Time for Romance

Suki Kawaii Guchagucha Ni Shitai Osananajimi Ha Kojirasesugiteru

Until the Trashiest Boy Toy Exorcist Ren-kun Crushes Me in His Embrace

My Cute Stalker Idolizes Me Too Much

A Yandere Boyfriend's Sexy Punishment

Manga

Worldend: Debugger

I love you, Kyoko-san

The Parodied Jokeland

Kanchigai Hime to Usotsuki Shimobe

My Beloved Charlotte

Akuman-san to Outa

Litchi Hikari Club

Tendou-ke Monogatari

Sakuraba-san wa Tomaranai!

Kimi ni Koisuru Satsujinki

Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun

Shinobi Shijuusou

How to Train Your Handsome But Overbearing Boyfriend

Yoi No Yomeiri

He Was My Brother

Welcome to the Yandere Cafe

Home Room

Yuukaikon

Kuroha to Nijisuke: Kuroki Majo no Divertimento

Kiruru Kill Me

Fluctuations of the Hit man S

Kimi no Koe

Kataribe no List

I Reincarnated as the Little Sister of a Death Game Manga's Murder Mastermind and Failed

I Said I Love you to Death, Didn’t I?

Casual Flowers

Kill My Mother

My translations (Smut)

The Neighbour in Room 203 Disappeared Leaving a Key Behind

I will never let you go, so please be preyed on by me ~ The younger man I met in the countryside was a former Yandere boy from hell~

Please Know That I'm Really Jealous ~A Former Yandere Boy Can Be Brutal To Get Married

It’s All About Love

Tell Me You’ll Die Without Me (Non-Smut)

Yandere Killing!! ~When I told my obsessive childhood friend, "I love you too," she shifted to the romantic comedy route~

The doting president is obsessed only with me. ~Sweet poison melts deep inside...~

Love is Too Heavy for Obsessive Idol Sex

I tried to escape from being a villainous daughter, but the earnest, good-natured Yandere Highness did not give me the peace I wanted

The Yandere Angel is obsessed with a good-natured succubus

Yandere Vampire's Obsessive Love Confinement x Contract Sex

My Yandere Neighbour (Non-Smut)

The Yandere Angel is Obsessed with a Good-Natured Succubus 2

#male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #masterlist

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thedevilsoftruth · 2 months

Text

Lesson

Paring: ( COMIC ) Mr. Knight x AFAB reader

Warning: porn with no plot, smut, Mr. Knights gloves, mdom/fsub dynamic, crying during sex, rough sex, unprotected, dirty talk, biting, use of, " baby/baby girl " ( 641 words )

Notes: tiny drabble. THIS IS COMIC MR. KNIGHT, SO THIS IS NOT STEVEN, THIS IS MARC. We need more comic MK smut, so I'm trying to make that happen. Im reading the midnight mission rn and I'm like.. so down bad for Mr. Knight rn I think I'm going crazy.

He wore white leather gloves. White leather gloves that would go onto his large hands that'd be circling around your swollen clit at the very end of his day when he needed you most. He would keep his clothes on, only sliding his pants down so he could enter you. He'd have you on his lap, your back against his his chest as his rammed into you and kept his face into the crook of your neck. He had his mask pulled halfway up to his nose so that he could kiss you when he wanted to.

This wasn't what he usually did after a long night of kicking people's ass, but he needed to blow off some steam. But you guessed he was getting bored of the same ol' same ol' because he pulled out and flipped you over on your back on the blue sofa in his office. He sat down on his knees and re-entered you, his thrusts starting out more aggressive than they were before.

" I hope you're proud of yourself. " he grunted, running his gloved hands smoothly down your thigh, lifting it and planting a tender kiss on it before biting down on your skin. You winced at the contact, legs shaking from the previous 2 rounds he had gone on you.

" You have very simple rules; don't bug me when I'm working. But you just had to come here, begging me for my attention, huh? " He said with a chuckle, grasping your breast and twirling your nipple around his thumb. Your eyes were watery and your nose was burning. Nothing left your throat but endless cries and pathetic moans. You felt weak under his control. He had you wrapped around his finger, but even though it was hell you weren't letting go.

" Looks like someone needs better training, hmm? " He chuckled darkly, pulling you closer and wrapping a hand around your neck. You let out a choked cry, and a cold tear ran down your cheek as his speed seemingly increased.

Mr. Knight enjoyed this position because he could see your face. He could see how you reacted when he touched you and could see the marks he left on you. In this instance, the torn pantyhose and wet thighs, the bite marks and the scratch marks. He brought his gloved thumb up to your lips, playing with them as they foamed out drool down the side of your face.

" Poor baby girl. can't even handle 3 rounds. You close? hmm? " He cooed, using his free hand to grasp your thigh as he felt you tightly clench around him. You could feel the muscles contract in your sex. This was your signal. Mr. Knight took the cue and slammed in as fast as he could, making you squeal and buck against him in anticipation.

" Mr.. Kni-- "

" Shut it. I don't want to hear anything from you right now. " He said angrily, putting his hand over your mouth and muffling your moans of pure pleasure. " all you need to do right now is cum for me like the good little girl you are. " He whispered, leaning down to kiss and bite on your collarbone. He sucked at the skin he bit, and you let out a tiny scream as you felt your release rising. Your pussy clenched around his cock as he fucked through your walls, signaling him you were close. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your body convulsing around his every touch.

" c'mon, baby. come for me one final time. " he panted, giving you his final thrusts before you lost control and began leaking around his cock. Soonly after yours, he spilled his hot spend into your warm cunt and pulled you.

" I hope you learned your fucking lesson. "

#moon knight comics #moon knight #marc spector #mr. knight #mr knight x reader #Mr knight smut #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #jake lockley #steven grant #marvel smut #marvel comics #Mcu smut #comic mr knight #comic mr knight smut #marvel comics smut

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teaespensonawards · 3 years

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Nominations Update 4

Some fresh new nominees for y’all!

There are quite a few here, at last! This update is long. So we’ll put them behind a read more to spare your dash.

The Long Road Home, by @jackabelle73 - FLUFF, FAMILY

An Unconventional Gift, by @shadowedoracle - FLUFF, FAMILY

Nighthawks, Morningbirds, by @ifishouldvanish - FLUFF, COMFORT

Love is Purple, by @xiolaperry - FLUFF, COMFORT

Marbled, by @worryinglyinnocent - FLUFF, REUNION

The Mayor’s Chair, by @worryinglyinnocent - FLUFF, BEST CHILD FIC

In Heat, by @prissyhalliwell - SMUT, KINK

Sense of Touch, by @timelordthirteen - SMUT, KINK

To Kiss the Fingers of the Rain, by @thescholarlystrumpet - SMUT, ROMANCE

Liminal Space, by @rufeepeach - SMUT, ROMANCE

Creature Instincts, by @thestraggletag - SMUT, ROMANCE

Waiting for Gold, by @joylee56 - SMUT, ROMANCE

Heatstroke, by @emospritelet - SMUT, COMEDY

Trio: A Golden Cuffs Story, by @kelyon - SMUT, THREESOME

A Cricket Gets Lucky, by @mrs-stiltskin - SMUT, THREESOME

Undone, by @nerdrumple - SMUT, BEST FIRST TIME

Keep the Change, by @timelordthirteen - SMUT, PWP

In Heat, by @prissyhalliwell - SMUT, PWP

The Ring, by @timelordthirteen - SMUT, BDSM

The Party, by @mrs-stiltskin - SMUT, BDSM

Only Something in Me, by @timelordthirteen - ANGST, WHY?

Ghosts, by @nerdrumple - ANGST, HURTS SO GOOD

Night Shift, by @timelordthirteen - ANGST, HURTS SO GOOD

The Attorneys Paralegal, by Wandering_Willow - ROMANCE, BEST DATE (OVERALL)

A Match Made in Heaven, by @worryinglyinnocent - ROMANCE, BEST COURTSHIP

Arrested Development, by @ddagent - ROMANCE, BEST COURTSHIP

Kiss, by @nerdrumple - ROMANCE, BEST COURTSHIP

Her Angel, by @kelyon - ROMANCE, BEST FIRST MEETING

Distractions, by @thestraggletag - BEST ONE-SHOT

The Gold Fleece, by @eirian-houpe - BEST ONE-SHOT

Queen Takes Knight, by @emospritelet - BEST ONE-SHOT

Our Better Decisions, by @theoneandonlylittlebird - BEST POST-EP FIC

Pillow Talk, by @celticheartedfangirl - BEST POST-EP FIC

Walk of Shame, by @timelordthirteen - BEST COMEDY FIC

Only a Matter of Time, by @mrs-stiltskin - BEST MOVIE AU

Whispers in the Dark, by @thatravenclawbitch - BEST BOOK AU

Around the World in 80 Days, by megara_bee - BEST BOOK AU

Fools Rush In, by @worryinglyinnocent - BEST HISTORICAL AU

Endless, by @mareyshelley - BEST HISTORICAL AU

In All Things, by @timelordthirteen - BEST AU

Our Masks, by @lotus0kid - BEST AU

Intended, by @maplesyrupao3 - BEST AU

Lonely Lovers Charm, by @timelordthirteen - BEST AU

Golden Rings, by @kelyon - BEST AU!OUAT

Marbled, by @worryinglyinnocent - BEST AU!OUAT

The Contract, by Wandering_Willow - BEST NOVEL LENGTH FIC

In the Right Measure, by @bad-faery - BEST REMIX

Dripping in Gold, by @maplesyrupao3 - BEST REMIX

Our Masks, by @lotus0kid - BEST REMIX

With Rue and Beauty, by @mareyshelley - BEST DARK CASTLE

Golden Rings, by @kelyon - BEST STORYBROOKE

Where We Fear to Tread, by @lotus0kid - BEST TRAVEL

Lonely Lovers Charm, by @timelordthirteen - BEST GOLDEN LACE

In From the Cold, by @mrs-stiltskin - BEST WOVEN LACE

One Word, Many Meanings, by @peacehopeandrats - BEST WOVEN LACE

Undefined Desires, by @worryinglyinnocent - BEST WOVEN BEAUTY

Undone (Ruby/Archie), by @nerdrumple - BEST SIDE PAIRING

Last Night on Earth (Gideon/OC), by @peacehopeandrats - BEST SIDE PAIRING

Temptation, by @emospritelet - BEST SUPERNATURAL

Dark Sight, by @maplesyrupao3 - BEST SCI-FI

Rest Easy, Love, by @eirian-houpe - BEST SCI-FI

Imp Manor, by @gwenore - BEST HORROR

Alone in My Tower, by @spottytonguedog - FORGOTTEN GEM

Give Unto Me, by @thestraggletag - FORGOTTEN GEM

A Christmas Kiss, by @avatoh - RSS

The Best Offer, by @mareyshelley - RCIJ

In the Garden, by @of-princes-and-savages - RCIJ

Only a Matter of Time, by @mrs-stiltskin - RCIJ

A Savior of Snails, by @xiolaperry - FLUFFAPALOOZA

Cactus, by @eirian-houpe - A MONTHLY RUMBELLING (NON-SMUT)

Speak of the Devil, by @worryinglyinnocent - A MONTHLY RUMBELLING (NON-SMUT)

The Trouble with Bikinis, by @worryinglyinnocent - A MONTHLY RUMBELLING (SMUT)

Oak and Thorn, by @eirian-houpe - A MONTHLY RUMBELLING (SMUT)

An Appreciation of Brownie Batter, by @worryinglyinnocent - RUMBELLE IS HOPE

Breaking Cycles, by @deliriumsdelight7 - BEST BELLE

The Spinner in Chains, by @mrs-stiltskin - BEST DARK!ONE BELLE

Masters of Destiny, by @deliriumsdelight7 - BEST DARK!ONE BELLE

Dark Sight, by @maplesyrupao3 - BEST AU BELLE

Keep the Change, by @timelordthirteen - BEST LACEY

Never Let Me Go, by @thatravenclawbitch - BEST LACEY

True Belief (Jefferson), by @emospritelet - BEST BFF/WINGMAN

Bobby’s Headcanon, by @desperatemurph - BEST FAN ART

Color, Brilliance, and Strangeness, by @ifishouldvanish - BEST GRAPHIC ART (GIFS)

The Library, by @virgidearie - BEST AU IN ART

Happiness, by @virgidearie - BEST FLUFF ART

Gifset inspired by Twisted Fate, by @ryoko1027 - BEST SMUTTY ART

Love Letters, by @dekayingtree - BEST COMIC/GRAPHIC NOVEL

Ogilvelle AU, by @desperatemurph - BEST COMIC/GRAPHIC NOVEL

Real Inside Rumple Holding Belle Back, by @dekujin - BEST DARK ONE FORM

Spinner!Dark One AU, by @desperatemurph - BEST DARK ONE FORM

Goop!Rumple, by @dekujin - BEST USE OF COLOR

Belle and Ogilvy in the belly of the beast, by @rumpledspinster - BEST USE OF COLOR

The Library, by @virgidearie - BEST USE OF COLOR

@ryoko1027 - BEST ARTIST

@staypee - BEST ARTIST

@jenitosam - BEST ARTIST

@vayuvayu - BEST NEW ARTIST

@dekayingtree - BEST NEW ARTIST

@worryinglyinnocent - BEST AUTHOR

@ifishouldvanish - LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD

@mareyshelley - LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD

@timelordthirteen - LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD

@worryinglyinnocent - LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD

@desperatemurph - LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD

(We’re still receiving submissions of nominations, so the final update won’t come until sometime tomorrow. Then later in the next day or two, the final, FULL list will be posted. Also, if you have any corrections, please do send us an ask!!)

#The Espenson Awards #Rumbelle #Rumbelle fic #Rumbelle art #Rumplestiltskin #Belle French #Anyelle #Anyem

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melodylnoelle · 4 years

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The Writing Rolodex

So I used to think it was too soon for a masterlist (maybe it still is), but I get a liiiiiiittle overzealous with spamming the reblog button and making my writing disappear admist all the Tom Hiddleston/Loki, Stargate, funny posts, and all the other random bullstuffs... So here we are.

Anyways, welcome to my Masterlist! There are some pieces on here that are NSFW and will be tagged in the masterlist and on the post as such. Please read all warnings before reading my work. Most of it, though, is safe for anyone to read. Much more to come in the future since I can never shut my brain up. I hope you enjoy!

Any questions/comments/concerns/technical issues/prompt ideas... you get the point, feel free to send me a DM or an ask. However, please do not repost any of my work without tagging me in it. Reblogs are fine though! Happy reading!

~~~~

For Flex Your Writing Muscles Challenge by captain-rodgers-beard

Bioshock Characters

Booker DeWitt - Dance With Me, Mr. DeWitt (Day 7) Elizabeth - A Vision of Paris (Day 10)

Marvel Cinematic Universe Characters

Steve Rogers - Comforted (Day 14) Thor - The Stories of Ragnarok, Part 1 (Day 16) Clint Barton - Click (Day 3) Loki Colorful Memories (Day 4) Norway (Day 8) Comic Con (Day 11) The Stories of Ragnarok, Part 2 (Day 16) Temporary Freedom (Day 25)

Stargate Characters

SG1 Fishing (Day 5) Impulsive (Day 6) Memories of Jolinar (Day 30)

Atlantis Teyla Emmagan - Ferris Wheel (Day 20)

Twilight Characters

Alice and Jasper - Something Borrowed (Day 9) Carlisle x Esme - Sunflowers and Sunlight (Day 1) Edward Cullen - Her Final Letter (Day 12)

Witches of East End (TV Show) Characters

Freya Beauchamp Seaside (Day 2) Fortuna (Day 13)

Pirates of the Caribbean

Original Character, Jack Sparrow, Joshamee Gibbs A Mermaid’s Tear (Day 27) Arrival (Day 21) The Wishing Tree (Day 15)

Miscellaneous

Crossover: Harry Potter x Marvel Cinematic Universe - The Match (Day 19) Harry Potter: Birthday Surprise (Day 26)

Natasha Romanoff, PI for Val’s 500 Writing Challenge by marvelgirlonamarvelworld More Coming Soon

Chapters: 1; 2, 3, 4...

For Fictober Writing Challenge by paradoxical-scribbler

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Trick or Treat (Day 1) Challenge Accepted (Day 6)

Stargate SG-1

What’s Halloween? (Day 4)

Original Characters

Just This Once (Day 2) Bonfire Stories (Day 3) Be Careful What You Ask For (Day 5) - Continued from Bonfire Stories. Please read the warnings before continuing.

The Cards Have Spoken! With brightsun-and-darkmidnight Where we both pull cards for characters in the MCU, a type of story, and various other elements and have a few days to create a story out of them. Usually, we will post these on Wednesdays and Fridays. See here to see the possible cards for me to pull each week. And please check out brightsun-and-darkmidnight’s The Cards Have Spoken! Masterlist for her amazing work with these! She is a creative powerhouse.

Jones (Week 1, my cards) Sam Wilson; Angst - Character Death Here We Are Again (Week 1, brightsun-and-darkmidnight’s cards) Thor x Jane Foster; Angst - Break-Up; Mafia AU Aftermath (Week 2, my cards) Maria Hill and Tony Stark; Wild Card A Night At Home (Week 2, brightsun-and-darkmidnights’s cards) Loki x OC; Fluff - Movie Night at Home; Coffee Shop AU Apartment 302 (Week 3, my cards) - NSFW!! Steve Rogers x OC; Smut - Pregnancy/Breeding Kink A Complicated Matter (Week 3, brightsun-and-darkmidnight’s cards) Thor x fem!reader; Fluff - Falling asleep on the other; Werewolf AU Here I Am (Week 4, my cards) Steve Rogers x OC; Relationship-Driven Plot I’m With You (Week 4, brightsun-and-darkmidnight’s cards) Bucky Barnes x gn!reader; Fluff - Comfort from a bad dream; Cannon - Post AOU Running From Fate (Week 5, my cards) 1940s!Bucky Barnes; On the Run AU Past and Presents (Week 5, brightsun-and-darkimidnight’s cards) Loki x OC; Fluff - Giving/receiving gifts; Reincarnation AU Knight Captain (Week 6, my cards) Steve Rogers; Royalty AU Intermission (Week 6, brightsun-and-darkmidnight’s cards) - NSFW!! Tony Stark x Pepper Potts; Smut - Exhibitionism - Band AU What Happened on Midgard? (Week 7, my cards) Thor; Wild Card Change of Arrangements (Week 7, brightsun-and-darkmidnight’s cards) Loki x reader; Fluff - Proposal; Mafia AU Opposite Sides (Week 8, my cards) Natasha Romanov x Loki; Enemies to Lovers Nothing New (Week 8, brightsun-and-darkmidnight’s cards) 1940s!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader; Angst - Amnesia; On the Run AU Companions (Week 9, my cards) Maria Hill; Fluff - Getting a pet Kiss It Away (Week 9, brightsun-and-darkmidnight’s cards) Steve Rogers x reader; Angst - Hospital - Soulmate AU Paprikash (Week 10, my cards) Wanda Maximoff x Vision; Fluff - Getting the other food The Cabin (Week 10, brightsun-and-darkmidnight’s cards) Loki x OC; Fluff - Snowball fight/building a snowman/snow activities; A/B/O AU Wakanda Sunset (Week 11, my cards) Shuri; Fluff- Picnic in the park Drunken Sentiments (Week 11, brightsun-and--darkmidnight’s cards) Tony Stark; Fluff - talking lovingly about their partner with others Music is the Best Medicine (Week 12, Free Write) Bucky Barnes x Reader; Fluff; Dealer’s Choice all around Unresolved (Week 13, brightsun-and-darkmidnight’s cards) Thor x Asgardian!reader (past); Angst - Self-Sacrifice; A/B/O

Misc Fanfiction

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Apache Tear Their Normal Friend Surprise! It’s Fire, Isn’t It?

Loki Writer’s Block - Loki x Reader Thunder - Loki x OC Snowfall - For lokisgoodgirl’s Winter Warmers Collection

Bucky Barnes Ice Cave - NSFW!!

Multi-Chapters

Don’’t Let Go - Loki - helping out @brightsun-and-darkmidnight on this one - Be sure to check out all her work!!

1, 2, 3, 4...

Poetry Coming Soon

#the writing rolodex #writing masterlist

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thescholarlystrumpet · 6 years

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All Through the Night Rated Explicit

Smutty one-shot for the @a-monthly-rumbelling January prompt: “I don’t mind if we sleep in the same bed tonight.”

Bae's nanny, Belle, harbors a secret and - she's certain - unrequited crush on her employer, Bae's father. But secrets can be tricky things to keep when people get trapped together by a thunderstorm, with no electricity and only one bed.

Bed-sharing!smut with some feels and added child!Baelfire cuteness bonus. Tropes abound!

A/N: Big thank you to @rumple-belle for both encouraging me to just go ahead and write this and for beta-ing it!

On AO3 HERE

“I don’t mind if we sleep in the same bed tonight,” Baeley asserted, holding up a corner of his quilt to welcome her under it.

Belle bit back a smile at his earnest little face, completely unaware of dimensions and how she’d never possibly fit in the nook he occupied. A growing boy of six and a half, he’d be too small, himself, in a year or so.

“Well that’s very sweet of you but I’ll be just fine on the couch.” She smoothed the blanket up under his chin.

“Oh. Are you sure? It’s kinda lumpy.” The boy’s expression twisted with distaste.

Belle cocked her head to one side, “Are you worried about my comfort or does someone not want to sleep alone like a big boy? Is it because of the storm?”

Bae’s lips pursed. “Nuh-uhh. I am a big boy! I’m just being nice. You can sleep wherever you want.” he grumped, sounding oddly like his father in his rush of obstinate defensiveness.

Accustomed to her young charge growing more mercurial at bedtime, Belle gentled her tone. “I know you are, Bae. You’re growing up so fast! But even big boys can dislike big scary sounds like thunder. Even I get scared of it sometimes, you know.”

He wrinkled his nose at her. “You don’t get scared of nothing.”

“Anything,” she corrected automatically.

“Anything,” Bae echoed dutifully. “Right?”

“It’s alright to be afraid, sometimes,” she assured him, rather than face more questions. If only he knew…

Sure, she was lying about the thunder. That hadn’t frightened her since she was younger than Bae. But Belle definitely lived with a large and overarching fear. One that consumed her thoughts and left her more than her share of sleepless nights. It was as adult a fear as she had ever felt: the fear of revealing her most secret heart to one who would surely reject it. Belle lived in the shadow of an undeniable and overwhelming attachment to the most unsuitable and indifferent man she knew - her employer and Bae’s father, Mr. Gold.

Loving Bae was easy. Most days, when he wasn’t cranky from staying up too late, he was an absolute delight; sweet, intelligent, and highly inquisitive. He kept her on her toes and she treasured the way his eyes lit up whenever she helped him to discover new facts about salamanders or satellites or whatever new subject had caught his fancy that week. They went to the library every weekend so he could stock up on books for them to read together. Now that he was on chapter books, he would even insist on reading to her, at times. Bae was her little darling and she loved him unequivocally.

His enigmatic father, on the other hand, was another story. He should have been nothing more to her than the father of her charge, the man who signed her checks. He should have been a glorified roommate, since she’d finally agreed to move into their guest room after that messy break-up with Garrett left her homeless. He should have been a friend, co-parent, or mentor. He should have been anything but the object of her increasingly embarrassing fantasies, the one person in town whose very silhouette could make her heart jump into her throat, the man she couldn’t stop picturing as the quintessential part of her someday Happy Ever After.

Belle had been raised on fairy tales. Or rather she raised herself once her mother passed away and her negligent father stopped even trying to be a parent. Belle had wanted that knight on a white horse so badly as a girl, as a teen, even into early adulthood. Unfortunately, in Storybrooke, there had only been Garrett and his gas guzzling car, and his possessive grasp, and his wandering eye.

Mr. Edmund Gold was certainly no Prince Charming but he had rescued her anyway, in her time of need. And his brusque manners weren’t so off-putting once she’d gotten to know him. He could be surprisingly funny, even charismatic when his guard was down. And the way he was with Bae these days was so alien from the way she’d first seen him (the way the whole rest of town still saw him), all warm affection and playful teasing. Belle liked to think she’d been an influence for the better in that regard.

It was just about three weeks ago, while Gold and Bae were playing, that Belle had first realized she was falling in love. In a moment of weakness, she’d let herself imagine what it would be like to have Mr. Gold look at her with the kind of affection he only ever bestowed on his son.

“Bae?”

The velvety voice of the man himself, broke Belle’s reverie. He stood in the doorway of the tiny room dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and a shaggy robe, his long hair still damp at the very ends. He had a battery powered lantern slung around his wrist on a cord, the blueish light throwing his already striking features into a deep, shadowy bas relief.

They’d been just coming back from the lake, the sun sinking fast toward the horizon, when they got caught in a sudden downpour. A streak of lightning lit the sky, followed in seconds by a roll of thunder. The raindrops felt sharp as needles against Belle’s skin, blown hard by the rising wind. Returning to town on foot, as had been the original plan, would be impossible. They made a snap decision to head to Gold’s cabin, instead. All three were soaked and shivering by the time they arrived. For a day that had dawned quite warm and sunny for fall, it had come to a rather miserable end.

Belle had ushered Bae into a hot shower to warm his numbed fingers and toes while Gold attempted to build a fire. Unfortunately, the wood was all damp and refused to catch. There was a single electric space heater that helped a little, but was useless once the electricity went out. Bae’s room wasn’t too chilly, small as it was, and the boy was packed in with as many blankets as he could tolerate.

“Papa!” Bae threw back the quilts and blankets to extend his arms toward his father.

Gold looked askance at Belle. “He’s still up?”

Belle blushed and rose from the edge of the bed where she’d been sitting. “We were… just talking about the storm.”

“Is that so, son?” Gold perched on Belle’s abandoned seat, bracing one side with his cane as he hugged Bae back thoroughly with his free arm. “I hope it’s not too loud out there for you to get some sleep.”

Bae shook his head, his eyes already drooping with exhaustion. “Belle is scared of the thunder so I said she could sleep here with me. Is that okay?”

Gold chuckled and ran his fingers over a cowlick in Bae’s dark curls. “Well, I don’t quite think there’s room for her here, but I’ll make sure she stays safe and dry, alright?”

“Okay. So she can sleep with you, tonight?” Bae asked, settling drowsily back against his pillow.

Gold made an indecipherable sound at the back of his throat before turning his head to cough politely into his forearm. Belle’s cheeks burned, the air suddenly thick in her throat. There was a moment of stark hesitation before Gold leaned in to kiss Bae’s forehead.

“I know you’ll sleep like the dead once you settle down. Just all this excitement keeping you up. Close your eyes,” Gold ordered softly.

Bae obeyed.

Belle could tell him something a thousand times, cajoling and convincing, occasionally even bribing him to do it. His father need say it only once. Such was the kind of quiet power Mr. Gold could exude.

Belle would never admit it aloud but she’d had more than one little fantasy feature Gold giving her orders of an entirely different nature. She closed her eyes and rubbed the spot just between them, above her nose. It was an entirely inappropriate thought to be having at this time. Gold was probably a little peeved at her for not getting Bae properly settled. This was the third time father and son were saying good night, Bae having bounced up and out of bed twice to ask Belle for another story.

They hadn’t brought his reading material for a day by the lake and the only book Belle had on her was definitely not child friendly. Instead, she’d told him variations on fairy tales that her mother used to tell her, personalizing lead characters with traits Bae would recognize as his own.

Two such stories in, Belle had felt herself being watched. She’d looked up to find Mr. Gold’s eyes fixed on her, his expression intense and unreadable. Bae had also noticed his father and gotten so excited to share Belle’s stories that he leapt out of his blanket nest and it took several minutes to ease him back into it.

Third time, it seemed, was indeed the charm. Bae’s face had gone slack, his breathing even, as his father rose slowly from the bedside.

Gold inclined his head back toward the living room and the two of them adjourned, shutting the door to Bae’s room to just a sliver. He hated when his door was fully latched.

Belle shivered in the main room of the cabin, the higher ceiling and poorly insulated windows making it much draftier than either bedroom. She didn’t have a change of clothes, but luckily Gold had found a spare pair of fleece pajama pants and a sweater. The clothes smelled musty and were comically long in both arms and legs, but she was grateful enough to be dry that she didn’t complain. Gold was similarly outfitted in his spare pajama pants and a T-shirt with that ugly, tattered bathrobe thrown atop it for warmth.

Belle turned to face Mr. Gold, hoping he wouldn’t be too upset at having to put his son to bed a third time that night. She had no real defense for not putting her foot down. The truth was, she spoiled little Bae like he was her own. She’d never really been a nanny before this, and now she was starting to understand that perhaps she ought to have stayed a babysitter and part time librarian instead. It was easier when there were dozens of children to mind. With just one to focus on - and one she already adored - her judgement could get a little clouded. Then again, Belle could see such a world of difference from the unhappy child Bae had been a year ago. It was little wonder that she couldn’t help but indulge him.

Mr. Gold had been rather stiff with his son when she first met them both, as though he feared the child would break if he handled him too often. Mrs. Gold had only recently left and it was clearly a sore spot for both father and son. Bae was pale and entirely too serious for a five year old child. Gold was distant and uncertain in his attempts at showing affection. He’d apparently only hired a nanny to provide supervision and enforce the house rules, seeming genuinely confused the first time he came home to find the two of them crawling around on all fours, pretending to be dinosaurs.

Early on, he had even reprimanded Belle for letting Bae “take advantage” of her “tender nature.” She’d have taken the latter part as a compliment if it weren’t for the way he frowned when he said the word “tender,” almost like it was a dirty word. It was one of the few times Gold had really gotten her goat. Children needed tenderness, she told him, emphatically, to be reassured that even when they were naughty, they were loved. She’d let everything she’d been holding back up until that point pour out of her: how lonely Bae was, how he longed to spend time with his father, how difficult it was to be a child expected to behave like a small adult. Gold had listened to every word she’d said with a grave expression. Belle feared for her job by the time she was through, but she could not have stayed mum if her life depended on it. She should have known even then that she was already too far gone. Gold had been silent a long time before simply nodding and dismissing her from the room.

She’d spent a week on tenterhooks, flinching every time he addressed her. Yet he never reproached her for her tirade, or even mentioned how inappropriate she had been to lecture him in his own home. That weekend, however, was the very first time Gold stayed home from work and went with them to the park on Sunday. Bae had been overjoyed for the chance to play with his father and it quickly became a new part of their routine. Gold could still be prickly at times and Belle had learned to read when he was getting overwhelmed so she could step in and distract Bae with another activity. Overall though, the relationship between Bae and his father had grown in leaps and bounds - much like the youngster himself, who seemed to shoot up like a weed in the sunshine.

After that, Belle had also been a lot less afraid to speak her mind, when it counted.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Gold,” Belle began, noting how heavily Gold leaned on his cane, his shoulders slumped with weariness after such a long day.

He waved his free hand. “It’s no matter. He’s had a lot of excitement today, it’s only natural he’d have trouble settling down.” He limped to the couch and lowered himself gingerly. “I, on the other hand, may need to sleep through the next century just to recover,” he smiled thinly.

Belle returned the smile with a tired one of her own. “Well, Rip Van Winkle, I have a feeling a certain human alarm clock won’t let that happen any time soon.”

He gave a short huff of amusement. “Just as well, not really sure I’d like having a long, white beard just yet.” Gold ran a hand down his very clean shaven face.

“It was good enough for Gandalf,” she shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing her forearms for warmth.

“Ah, now there’s a fashion icon worth emulating,” he replied dryly. His brow creased. “You must be freezing. My apologies. Let’s get you to bed.”

Belle blushed again at his words but he didn’t seem to notice as he was focused on standing up. He inhaled sharply, swearing under his breath as he heaved himself to his feet. Belle flew to his side, attempting to help support his bad side but he waved her away.

“I’m not an invalid,” he snapped, wincing again as he tried to take a step forward.

Belle frowned. “I know… but, it’s been a long day and I thought…”

“I don’t need a nurse, Miss French.”

Belle sighed. She was exhausted too but it wasn’t in her nature to stand by and let someone suffer. Even if they were being a pratt about it. “Well that’s good because you’d be a terrible patient. Now, do you want a hand or would you rather be stubborn and suffer?”

His lips thinned as he gave her a hard look. When she returned it, flatly, the corner of his mouth quirked upward for just a moment before he looked away. He cleared his throat. “There’s, ah, there are some extra blankets in the chest at the foot of the bed. I was… going to fetch them.”

“Okay then. I’ll be right back.” Using her phone’s torch function, she went to the aforementioned chest and threw it open. Inside was a mess of fabric, tarnished silver, and and what she really, really hoped was not a giant spider web. She tried not to think about that last part as she reached in and fished around for something that felt blanket-y. She pulled out two swaths of scratchy wool, grimacing at the way they felt in her hand. After a few more minutes, she determined they were the only passably blanket-like things in the pile and closed the trunk.

She returned to the living room to find Gold on the sofa, bent double to massage his calf. She held up the hunks of tartan patterned wool. “Did you mean these?”

He looked up, quickly pulling his hands from his leg, fingers flexing in the open air before settling in his lap. “Yes. Those would be the ones.

Belle bit back a face of disgust. She didn’t fancy sleeping under these harsh, dusty things but beggars couldn’t be choosers and at least she was dry. She set one down to shake out the first.

“Ahhh, Mr. Gold?”

“Hm?”

She held up the blanket - what was left of it. “I think you might have a moth problem.” There was a gaping hole in one side and several smaller ones dotting the rest like Swiss cheese.

Gold’s face fell. “How about the other? Let me see…” He started to stand and reach for it, grunting and swearing again, then muttering an apology for swearing as he regained his seat. Belle handed him the first blanket and picked up the second. Unfurled, the second was almost worse than the first; nearly as much hole as blanket.

Gold’s jaw went still and tight as he stared at the woolly remains, nostrils flaring.

“Mr. Gold?” Belle eased onto the seat beside him.

He swallowed audibly and spoke without turning to look at her. “Mothballs. They told me I’d need mothballs. When I put the blankets in the trunk, I forgot.” He ran his hand over the tattered cloth in his lap. He looked at at her, almost unseeing. “They’d be very disappointed.”

“Who?” she asked, softly.

Gold’s mouth fashioned the tremulous ghost of a smile. “My aunts.”

He looked smaller than usual and rather lost in the thin, pale light of the lantern. Belle was overwhelmed with the urge to pull him to her, to rest his head against her breast and stroke his hair. Instead she gripped his upper arm, very lightly, just a little touch to know she was there, that she cared. Gold looked at her hand on his arm as though he’d forgotten he was capable of being touched.

Belle leaned in just as a flash of lightning illuminated his face. He was oddly beautiful in his sorrow and she was immediately ashamed for thinking so.

“They… they meant a lot to you,” she surmised.

Gold met her eyes, again, his own dark and fathomless. He nodded. “They were all I had,” he stated simply. “And these,” he indicated the blankets, “were all I had left.”

Belle knew it was just the storm and the quiet dark, just the exhaustion setting in and tearing down both their walls, but she didn’t care. She was fully and brilliantly alive in this moment, only inches from the man she loved, and he was being more candid with her than he’d ever been before. She might never get another chance to be with him like this, again.

“I know what that’s like,” she admitted.

“Do you?”

Belle nodded. “When my mother died, I was left on my own. All I really had were her books. They became like friends, cold comfort for a lonely little girl.” She huffed a small laugh at her own self pity. “When we moved, my father made me choose only one favorite to bring with us. He said we wouldn’t have room in the new place. One out of a whole library. I thought he was so cruel for that.”

“He was.” Gold agreed solemnly. “Monstrous.”

Belle paused, uncertain if she was being mocked, but Gold’s frank expression didn’t change. She allowed herself a small smile. “The joke was on him, though. Rather than work in his flower shop like he wanted, I got a job at the library after school. So I could read all my favorites as many times as I liked.”

Gold gave a low little chuckle. “I always knew there was something of a rebel in you, Belle French.” His voice was a low rumble, accent deliciously thick, the ‘r’ rolling off his tongue in a way that made her want to chase it with her own.

His breath was warm as it wafted across her face, still smelling sweet from the lemonade she’d brought to the lake. She tilted her face toward his just a fraction more and his gaze flicked from her eyes to her mouth and then back. A crack of thunder sounded, so close it may have well been in the room, and Belle shivered.

Gold pulled back, blinking rapidly, “I… I think I ought to get some rest.”

Belle deflated against the couch cushion. “Oh. Oh, right. Well, uh, at least let me help you.”

His brow furrowed. “Help me what? I’m already here.” He indicated the couch. He hoisted the holey blankets over his lap. “These are… less than expected but they will suffice for the night.”

Belle crossed her arms over her chest. “You are not sleeping on this lumpy couch with barely enough blanket to cover one limb at a time.”

He pursed his lips, “Miss French….”

“Mr. Gold….”

“Well, where on earth should I sleep, in your expert opinion?”

Belle rolled her eyes. “In the bed.” She stood, grabbing his cane from where it had fallen to the floor. “Don’t be such a fussbudget. Come on, I’ll help you into the bedroom.”

Gold made a blunted noise of outrage. “Do you think I’d be such a negligent employer - nay gentleman - as to let you freeze to death out here on the couch?”

“So, what? You’d rather martyr yourself for my comfort?”

“Yes!” he splayed his hands in exasperation.

Belle paused in her efforts to get him to take his cane and stand. “That’s… sweet. In a misguided sort of way.”

Gold’s eyes scrunched closed and he pinched the bridge of his nose, just between his eyes, with his forefinger and thumb.

Belle sighed. “Look, I know the mattress isn’t huge but it’s bigger than Bae’s bed so I think there’s plenty of room for the two of us to share.”

Without moving, Gold made the same strangled sound as he had before at Bae’s similar suggestion that they share the bed. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through his nose before opening his eyes and removing his hand. “I hardly think that is… appropriate,” he said, without much conviction.

“Appropriate is in the eye of the beholder and the only one to behold it would be the six year old who suggested it in the first place. I think we’re on safe territory, Mr. Gold.”

It rankled her just a little that he was being so dense about this. In a little over a year, he’d barely just begun to treat her as a human being, let alone any kind of companion. Tonight he’d been so open, almost easygoing, or as easygoing as the Town Misanthrope got. She’d started to think maybe there was a chance… the way he had leaned toward her, the way he’d looked at her just moments before… that perhaps her attraction was not wholly one-sided. If that was the case, why wouldn’t he want to share a bed?

He licked his lips and, without a word, held out his hand. Belle placed his cane into it. He leaned on the cane, but did not object again as she came around to his bad side and helped him rise. Leaning on her and the cane, he limped into the bedroom.

She helped him get situated before crossing to the other side and sliding under the heavy quilt. The bed was chilly and also covered in a layer of dust (Belle made a mental note to send a cleaning service out once they got home). The blankets were unevenly distributed and sheets twisted down at the foot so she found herself sitting up and running her hands along the edges to try and fix them.

Gold shifted uncomfortably beside her as her wandering hands brushed his legs once, and then a second time. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

“They’re uneven,” Belle groused, tugging at a sheet.

“Good God, woman, relax. You are off the clock. I am not Bae and I can fix my own blanket,” Gold snatched it out of her hands, rolling onto his side, away from her.

“Well, at least Bae knows how to share properly,” she replied, snaking an arm over his shoulder to pull the blanket back. “You’ve got the long end and if I don’t flip it, we’ll both have cold feet!”

He resisted for a moment before releasing it with a grumble. Belle set them to rights, smoothing the sheets up and blanket down. Gold was curled in a tight, unmoving ball and she made a face at his back.

At last she sank into the mattress, her body relaxing. She closed her eyes and let her mind meander through her day. It had been a beautiful day at the start. Gold had taken them out in a rented motorboat and shown Bae how to fish. They didn’t catch anything but that hadn’t been the point of the exercise. Bae had happily listed every fish fact he knew while his Papa listened attentively, and Belle had wished she could take a surreptitious photo. Gold looked ten years younger, lounging in the sun with his boy, relaxed and thoroughly happy. He’d even smiled at her a few times, in the brisk distracted sort of way he occasionally did these days.

Once they got back to shore, Belle had taught Bae how to recognize edible berries and they’d collected handfuls to add to the picnic lunch she’d packed. Belle kept stealing glances at Mr. Gold over Bae’s curly head. It was just so rare to see him out of a suit, dressed as he was in jeans and long sleeved shirt. The suits were always lovely and well tailored, and gave her plenty of thoughts about slowly unwrapping him like a present. Dressed down he seemed… human, like his sharp edges had been filed down. He’d caught her looking more than once, and they’d both quickly looked away.

Now she could feel the warmth of his body beside her, seeping into the sheets. She breathed out heavily through her mouth, fighting down the urge to snuggle up behind him. It was ridiculous, feeling this way for a man who could be so infuriatingly opaque. One minute they were swapping childhood stories and he looked very much like he wanted to kiss her. The next he was a human boulder, shutting her out in every way possible.

She must have drifted off at some point but a crack of thunder jolted her awake. She and Gold had rolled closer in their sleep, he on his back with an arm flung over his head and she on her side, facing him. He must also have shed the bathrobe at some point because he was only in the T-shirt now. There was barely enough light to make out his facial features but it occurred to her that he was smiling softly, unselfconsciously. She pulled herself up onto her elbow, cupping her cheek in her hand.

What would it be like to wake up like this and belong in a bed together? To lean in and kiss him awake? To have a playful little tussle before stripping each other bare and making love ‘til morning?

He made a soft little sound and Belle fancied that he was agreeing with her fantasy.

“What do you dream about, Mr. Gold?” she whispered, lowering her head back to the pillow.

Another little sound, low and masculine, greeted her query but then he fell silent and Belle fell back asleep.

The second time she woke, the rain had stopped and the moonlight shone strongly through the window. Belle had curled into Gold’s side, one arm slung over his waist. She held very, very still, listening to the thud of his heart beneath her ear. Despite the rain and the dust and the old fusty clothes, she swore she could still smell a hint of his cologne and she inhaled it deeply, trying to commit this moment to memory. The arm beneath her had fallen asleep but she couldn’t bring herself to move just yet.

She felt a rush of warm breath against the top of her head.

“Belle.”

His voice was more air than sound but it was loud enough in the now-quiet early morning.

Feeling guilty of trespassing, Belle began to shrink in on herself. Until she realized he’d used her first name. Gold had never called her anything but “Miss French” or, rarely, “Belle French”,” never just Belle. She loved the way it sounded on his lips.

“Yes?”

He released another, shakier, breath. “You’re awake.”

“Yes.”

“I… I need you to move.”

Disappointed, Belle began to slide her arm away when she realized that it had not been, as she thought, at his waist. Her arm had extended across his belly at an angle toward his hips. So as she began to roll away, her hand skimmed across… oh. Oh.

They both froze.

Belle moved first, lifting her hand away and pulling herself up on her other arm, tingling with pins and needles, to look at his face. Gold was wide eyed and slack jawed, his lips parted as he seemed to be taking one very deliberate breath after another. He studied her with an expression that bordered on fear.

Belle gathered all her courage, though her mind was sluggish with sleep and foggy with pent up desire.

“Is that… Is it because of me?” She lay her hand on his chest, noting how his heartbeat had accelerated.

“Belle,” he whispered again, almost a whimper as he added, “Belle, please…” His eyes roved her face in the moonlight, asking a question he could not seem to form with words.

“Please, what?” Tentatively, ready to pull back at any sign she was unwelcome, she slid her hand downward, toward where she’d felt him hard and straining beneath the sheet. “Is it… I want to touch you, Edmund. May I?” Her heartbeat was thudding in her ears and her pulse seemed to have relocated itself to the apex of her legs. She’d wanted him so badly for so long and it seemed like she must be imagining this happening, even now. It took every effort to keep her hand from shaking.

He shuddered just slightly as she said his name, his eyes closing briefly before reopening on her face. “Why?” His tone was incredulous.

Belle hiccuped a giddy little giggle. “Because I’ve wanted to for months? Because if I’m just dreaming again, I don’t want to waste it? Because… because you’re finally letting me? Pick your reason, Mr. Gold.” Seeing the look on his face, she self-corrected, “Edmund.”

He made a needy little sound at that and lifted the hand that lay between them to stroke the side of her face. “And how do I know I’m not the one dreaming?”

Belle smiled gently, leaning toward him until her mouth just barely hovered over his. “Only one way to find out,” she breathed. Her eyes shut, she made a silent wish before closing that infinitesimal space and kissing him. For half a second she feared he’d push her away but then the hand at her cheek slid into her messy curls, his fingers tangling between them as he held her fast. His other arm came up to wrap around her shoulders, lips parting to allow the tip of his tongue to dart between them.

Belle met that volley with a flick of her own tongue and Gold moaned into her mouth, tightening his grip. She slid down the bed, needing to be even closer, flinging a careless leg over his hips. And oh yes, there he was, pressing hot and insistent against her inner thigh. He ground himself against her as he devoured her mouth, the hand not buried in her hair tracing her waist and hip like he was learning every curve by heart.

She snaked a hand upward, running her fingertips through the baby-soft silver hair at his temples. She’d always wondered if it would feel as good as it looked and it absolutely did. They broke apart from kissing only to gasp for air, Gold breathing half a swear word into her shoulder as she moved to straddle him completely. Belle nipped at his earlobe as she centered herself on the rigid line of his cock, bringing both knees forward to gain friction where she needed it most.

His lips found purchase along the long column of her neck, trailing biting kisses up and down its length as she shivered with pleasure and shimmied her hips against his. His hands traveled down to grasp her arse and squeeze. Belle hummed her approval and he did it again, the tips of his fingers sliding to the crease at the back of each thigh, agonizingly close to her heated core. She was embarrassingly wet already, her panties sticky and clinging, twisting with her increasingly desperate undulations.

Growing frustrated with the many layers between them, Belle sat up.

Gold’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he looked up at her. “Is, ah, is everything….?”

“Oh God yes,” she nodded. “Just... too many clothes, don’t you think?”

Gold made a low sound of agreement, a smile on his kiss-swollen lips. “Whatever you say, Miss French.”

“Mm, can I get that in writing?” she teased. “And I thought we were on first name basis, now.”

He looked down. “I’ve never been fond of my first name.”

“Oh.” Belle bit back a frown.

“But I like it when you say it.” He met her eyes again, his tone the quiet, confessional one he’d had on the couch earlier that night. “I… like a lot of things when you say them.”

Belle felt herself melt a little inside and dipped down to press her lips to his. He kissed back hungrily and it was all she could do to pull away long enough to tug off the loose sweater. They teased and tasted one another until they were both breathless and she touched her forehead to his.

“I’d like to see you,” he murmured.

Happy to oblige, Belle kissed the tip of his nose and sat up again, feeling his cock twitch against her.

He inhaled deeply, “Fuck. You’re…” His hands shaped her waist, gliding over her ribs to cup each small breast, the nipples already pert with arousal and the chill air. She trembled as he flicked his thumbs simultaneously under their sensitive undersides before then running a thumb over each nipple. He shook his head, hair fanning on the pillow below him. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”

Belle blushed deeply, the color running from cheeks to chest.

Gold continued caressing her nipples with his thumbs until she was squirming, little mewling noises escaping her involuntarily. With a hand at her waist, he wordlessly directed her to lower one breast over his mouth, using his lips and tongue tease her as his other hand moved down toward the juncture of her thighs. She shifted her hips to allow him better access and he slid his hand beneath the elastic band of her borrowed pants, finding the soaking gusset of her knickers with his fingertips. He groaned at this discovery, the sound reverberating against her breast. Belle turned to allow him access to the other breast and gasped as one knuckle slid deftly along her cleft.

“Less clothes,” she mumbled, moving off of Gold to shuck her pants and underwear. Before she regained her place atop him, she tugged at the hem of his T-shirt, giving him a meaningful look.

He frowned. “Are you certain?”

Belle raised both eyebrows. “You ask that, now? Maybe I should remind you what you do to me, Mr. Edmund Gold…” Kneeling on the bed, the cold causing gooseflesh on every exposed patch of skin, she pulled his hand between her parted thighs. His fingers just barely skimmed her nether lips, coming away glistening with her arousal. He stared at them, spellbound before returning his gaze to her face. The pure adoration in his eyes was enough to leave her momentarily stunned.

She choked back an unexpected lump in her throat before gingerly reaching for his shirt, again. “Yes?”

Gold nodded, allowing her to help him sit up and divest himself of both shirt and pants. The moment they were both nude, he hauled her atop him and fervidly captured her mouth. She kissed him back with equal exuberance, rolling her hips as her slickness coated his erection. The blunt head nudged her clit and she made a needy, throaty sound that Gold eagerly swallowed. He bucked his hips beneath her, hitting the same spot again and Belle pulled back with a swear on her lips.

“Please, no more teasing… I need you,” she pleaded, almost mindless with the steadily building ache at her core. She ground herself against his cock, the head nearly slipping inside her.

“I don’t have any…” He forced the words out with some difficulty, his thighs below her tense, the muscles strained and quivering.

“Protection? It’s ok. I’ve got an IUD. And I’m clean.” Raising herself up and wrapping a hand around his shaft, she bit her lip and looked down at his face. “Please, Edmund?”

“Fucking hell, Belle,” he rasped, gripping her hips with both hands, nearly hard enough to bruise. As he lowered her hips, she guided him inside her, both hissing with pleasure as flesh met flesh, wet and hot and oh so deliciously ready. Inch by inch he filled her, her inner muscles already clenching and fluttering, until he was fully seated.

“God, you feel fucking amazing.’ His voice was almost a growl, hands still at her hips as she adjusted to the feel of him inside her.

Belle leaned in to kiss her way up his jaw to his ear. “You do too.” She canted her hips, rising up just a little before sliding back down, then repeated the motion. He rolled up and into her downward movements, echoing and answering the language of her body. “So good…” she crooned, as they began to establish a rhythm of short, sharp thrusts.

Gold’s breathing was harsh and ragged, his parted lips brushing her neck, her shoulder, her ear, whatever they could reach. Belle ducked her head to kiss his cheek, his jaw, nipping playfully at his earlobe and at his voluptuous bottom lip as heat began to spiral up her spine and down her legs. Conscious of how quiet it was without the storm, Belle held back the moans and half formed words that kept bubbling up, bursting to escape in shuddering gasps. She was getting close, slipping a hand between them to press at her sensitive little nub and riding him faster. Every fiber of her being was focused on their joining, on the way their bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, his hands moulding to her flesh as he hit all the right spots within. Her peak hit her suddenly and with a blinding force. Gold’s dull nails dug into her skin as her pussy milked him hard. She felt his teeth sink into her shoulder to muffle his moans as he reached his own completion.

Belle grasped his face between both hands and kissed him soundly. “That was worth waiting for,” she murmured against his lips.

He made a sound of agreement, pulling out of her reluctantly as she moved to lay on her side. “I’m only sorry I ever made you wait, sweetheart.” His tone was half amused bewilderment, half pillow talk.

Pulling the blankets up, she tucked herself against his side again, his arm curling automatically over her shoulders - as though they’d done this a million times. “Apology accepted. Just don’t let it happen again.”

“I like when you say that word, too. Again.” He kissed the top of her head.

“I mean it.” Belle tightened her arm around him, kissing his chest, just over his heart, in reply. Cocooned in his warmth, she began to drift off, noting that they probably had very little time left before dawn. It wasn’t light yet but she could almost feel the morning coming on.

Drowsily, he added. “I did dream of you, by the way. Just like this.”

Her heart gave a powerful thump in her chest and she tilted her head up to share a sleepy, lingering kiss. “Me too.”

#rumbelle #rumbelle smut #rumbelle fic #belle x mr. gold #belle x rumplestiltskin #rumbelle au #a monthly rumbelling #young baelfire #bed sharing #rumbelle bed sharing #my fic

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storytaeme · 6 years

Text

fantasy – vmin

All his life, Taehyung wanted to believe he was destined for something greater—he just never expected greater to be the crown prince’s lover.

vmin week 2017 – taehyung x jimin

❧ Elements: Fluff, Smut | Royalty AU

❧ Word Count: 6,520 words

❧ A/N: I’m late I know i’m so sorry!! I really hope you enjoy this one though. It was supposed to have much more content but then one thing and led to another and BOOM SEX. so yes :D

“What did the pirate say when he turned 80?”

Jimin waited, tapping his lip thoughtfully, his eyes glittering with delight.

“Aye matey.”

Pause. His finger stopped, his gaze flicked up to meet Taehyung’s. It was almost comical to watch the realization dawn on his face. There was a slow curl of his lips then the furrowing of his brows, throw in the parting of his lips and the way his body shifted back. Jimin tossed himself into laughter. It was mesmerizing to watch how quickly he transformed his entire position. Laughter sprung from his lips and filled the empty room while Taehyung made a drumming motion. Ba dum ts.

“T-that was terrible,” Jimin swiped away a tear, groaning, “why are you like this? I thought you were supposed to be funny.”

“I am funny,” Taehyung argued, “almost as funny as the time someone swallowed a wire from their braces and I told them to brace themselves.”

Cue the laughter. It was the squeaky one this time, the one that sounded like he was hiccuping and giggling simultaneously. Jimin practically flung himself on the side of his chair, prompting his right hand men to drift towards him. But he only batted them away, shooing them back to the door where they usually stood.

“Alright, fine, fine, I’ll concede just this time,” Jimin grinned, dabbing at his eyes again.

Taehyung skipped on his feet and did a flourished bow, “Thank you, your majesty.”

Kim Taehyung. 21 years old. Son, brother, friend. Lover.

In the time of knights and mythical dragons, of rich royalty and poor peasants, Taehyung was caught in between the two worlds. He had grown up in the disgustingly realistic income inequality where his parents broke their bones to support him and his brother and sister. Taehyung had lent a hand at the time as well, bringing their fresh produce to the markets to sell. They were one of the popular vendors, thankfully, and managed to garner enough to support the family.

Well, barely.

Village taxes were atrocious and all of it went into the luxurious life of the monarch. They fed the king’s belly and his men and women and share of mistresses. Taehyung had always spited them for it, but kept his mouth shut. He had to be the good kid, couldn’t pick fights with anyone if he wanted to live. The royal family didn’t take criticism very well, and it was the only form of governmental power they had always known.

“Taehyung, you get lovelier everyday,” an elderly woman cooed, patting his cheek as he handed her her purchases. He only chuckled because a nice front was all he could put up to ensure that business flowed smoothly. Taehyung was a charmer, sure, and that meant he had to use it to his advantage. “How about marrying my daughter? You’re at such a ripe age now.”

Ripe. The world left a bad aftertaste on his tongue, but he bit back his flinch and grinned at her. “But you know what’s even riper, Mrs. Han? Our apples. Fresh picks and I’ll even select the best of the best for you.”

“Oh, you,” she clicked her tongue but tittered, “but alright, I’ll take a few. But only the best, alright?”

Taehyung beamed right back at her and did so. It was all about the money.

“Have a good day, son, I’ll be back tomorrow for more,” she smiled before scurrying away to the next vendor for more groceries.

Smiling took a lot of effort, strained too much on his face muscles. This was his everyday life, he supposed. Harvesting fruits and vegetables from his family’s farm, bringing them all to the packed village market, using his natural likable personality to sell everything out. It worked. This worked.

Sometimes, he thought about whether he was meant for something bigger than this. Bigger than this tiny village. He wanted to explore, wanted to venture in the world outside of his little town and see what this vast universe could offer him. Alas, he did not have that luxury.

Taehyung thought that he could be content with the way things were, but that was until his world was turned around one particular day.

It was a blistering day with the sun raining down hell’s fire upon the village. Everyone was sweaty and pissed over how ridiculously high the temperature was. Taehyung wanted to argue whenever his customer complained about the high prices of their sales (they really weren’t that high considering the quality).

“But, Taehyung, these aren’t even fresh,” Mr. Park bitterly commented at his spread of lettuce and cucumbers.

“Mr. Han, I can assure you that they are. We just picked them this morning and cleaned it. It’s the best quality you can find around here,” Taehyung softly soothed him.

“Can’t you lower the prices just a little bit? Money’s a little tight.”

Money’s a little tight for everybody, Taehyung wanted to snap back. The heat wasn’t doing much to assuage his irritation either. “Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, “these are the best in the area so I can guarantee that this is the best price for it.”

“I can help,” a voice sounded next to Mr. Park.

Holy shit. Taehyung’s knees weakened and heart rate picked up. Mr. Park stumbled around too before dropping to his knees. The man flailed almost hilariously as he urged Taehyung’s customer up. His knights worked quickly to bring the man back to his feet, insisting that he shouldn’t touch such people. Taehyung wanted to snort.

The man instead pulled out a few silver coins, enough to cover a good amount of the produces Mr. Park had been looking at. “Will this do?” he asked, voice tinged with worry. “I have more if needed but I wasn’t sure—”

“Your highness—” his knight and Mr. Park interrupted at the same time. “You certainly don’t have to, your majesty. I can still afford it. Please. I wouldn’t subject you to that.”

His laugh tinkled in the air, carrying a sweet tune that would never exist in a world as bitter as those in the village. “You’re not subjecting me to anything, I assure you. This is the least I can do.” The man pressed the coins in Taehyung’s direction who glanced between the knight, the prince, and his customer warily.

He accepted it gratefully and bowed. “Thank you, your highness.”

“Give this man the best,” he giggled happily again.

Taehyung quickly worked on selecting the freshest ones to offer Mr. Park. With how much the prince offered, Mr. Park could’ve easily bought enough lettuce to last him the week. Taehyung packaged them carefully before handing it over to his regular. Mr. Park nodded a billion times to the prince, bowing in appreciation.

“Please, please stop,” the man pleaded, “it’s completely alright. I hope you have a wonderful day.” Mr. Park hurried away afterwards, fresh groceries in hand to feed his family.

He wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t for the prince to stick around, perusing over his goods. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like the ones he had up were adequate anymore.

Prince Park Jimin, the only heir to the throne, the next in line. He was a beautiful specimen, but it was hard not to be when he only had the best of the best to care for him ever since he was a mere infant. He looked almost ethereal with his sleek black hair styled neatly atop his head and clothes glimmering underneath the sunlight. Prince Jimin was a crowd favorite. It was hard not to love the man who was so humble and kind. He was always paying visit to the town, ensuring that people were happy. He listened well to the villagers, and was an all-around good-hearted man.

“Are these good?” the prince smiled up at him, Taehyung’s heart skipped a beat, pointing to the cherries.

“Yes, your highness. It’s our sweetest bunch yet,” Taehyung cleared his throat, fidgeting nervously with his fingers. It was hard not to be intimidated when the prince’s knight was glaring down at him as if he wanted to slaughter him and have him for dinner.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to it again. Did he have a choice to say no? Taehyung nodded. He plucked one out from the box and slipped it past his lips, the act itself was beautiful, elegance in his movements. Those of the higher class had a different taste to their movements, Taehyung supposed. “Mm,” he hummed, going as far as to suck his fingers into his mouth to lick up the excess juices. “It’s very sweet.”

“Thank you, your highness.”

The prince grinned and, Taehyung wasn’t sure, but it bordered on a smirk. There was a glint in his eyes that made his stomach churn but he made no comment towards it—he couldn’t, not if he wanted to keep his head. “What’s your name?”

“Taehyung, your majesty, Kim Taehyung.”

“Taehyung,” he echoed in a murmur, “pretty name for a pretty boy.”

Taehyung could hear a pin drop in the sudden silence of his hears. Did he just—was he so old as to start hearing things? “I—um—”

“You don’t agree?” The prince was downright teasing him at this point. Even with the heat, he could feel his cheeks flame again. What was the right answer? Was he supposed to agree and sound like a big head or deny and risk getting his head sliced off?

“I’m, I’m not sure, your highness,” Taehyung stammered awkwardly, tugging on the loose collar of his shirt.

“Well, I think you’re really pretty,” the prince giggled, “how much for the cherries?”

Taehyung coughed, “Free of charge if you’d like, your highness.”

“Please,” he scoffed, “drop the highness thing. Think of us as friends, yes, friends.” Friends with the crown prince? Only in his dreams. “This hopefully should cover a box.” He dropped a few in front of Taehyung on the counter.

That would cover ten boxes and a half. Taehyung didn’t have the heart to refuse when it could certainly help his family.

“I’ll see you around, Taehyung,” the prince flashed him one last dazzling smile before walking on his merry way again.

The other boy was left in a daze, wondering if that really just happened. His parents had been pleased of course by his earnings for the day and promised a feast for that night.

And that happened again and again for several days. The prince would appear before him, tasting a few of the products before offering him an ungodly amount of money for a disproportionate amount of the produce. He would call him pretty each time, tell him that his groceries were as sweet as he was. Taehyung wasn’t sure where all these comments were going but he would be lying if he didn’t preen at the man’s words. It was the prince praising him after all.

Taehyung knew he was attractive, by commoners’ standards at least. He had strong features and the gentlest of expressions, he was tall and fit, but soft enough to come off as friendly. His skin was rich and tan, healthy from all the sunlight.

However, never in his life did he expect the prince, who was surely surrounded by beautiful people everyday, to think of him as pretty and to tell him as such.

“Taehyung,” Jimin, as he insisted Taehyung to call him, said after he purchased a bag of apples. “What time do you usually finish work?”

“Five in the evening, your highness.”

Jimin clicked his tongue. “What did I say about calling me that?” he asked sternly, making the other boy duck his head shyly. “Would you care to join me for dinner at the palace?”

What? Was he hearing things? “Excuse me?”

“The palace. Would you join me for a meal? Of course, I’ll be providing everything for you and I’ll ensure that you would be returning home safely,” Jimin explained then paused before adding, “unless you’d prefer to stay at the palace. My room can squeeze in one extra guest.”

That had left his mouth dry and he didn’t have time to assess whether Jimin had been serious or not when he broke into a laugh.

“So, how about it?”

“I, um, would but my family—I usually help prepare dinner and yeah,” he finished lamely. There was a huge chunk of him that felt fear over this entire situation, how odd it was.

Jimin clapped his hands together, “Oh, of course! My apologies for being so inconsiderate—” Taehyung was about to say that he didn’t have to apologize because royalty just didn’t “—what if I send over food from the palace and a couple of maids if you’d like? They can help anything and even clean your home.”

The thought of Jimin’s staff visiting his home left a sinking feeling in his gut. His home was far from fancy, far from the luxurious setting Jimin was probably accustomed to. “Y-you don’t have to,” Taehyung rejected.

Jimin caught his waving hands, halting his movements. “Please?” he asked sweetly, “so you can join me for dinner.”

“I—” Taehyung looked at the contrast between their hands, how Jimin’s were small, delicate, and clean but his were decorated in callouses and dirt. “I don’t have anything to wear,” he reasoned lamely.

“Don’t worry about it, it would just be the two of us,” Jimin beamed, squeezing his fingers. “Please, Taehyung?”

His hands were tied. So he squeaked out an “okay.”

The sheer excitement painted on his face had Taehyung’s heart twirling in his chest. “Perfect! Oh, okay, I’ll be back by then to pick you up and I’ll ensure that my maids will be there earlier to help your parents.”

“I should, um, tell them.”

“Of course! How stupid of me,” he giggled, “I’ll meet you there th—”

Taehyung quickly blurted out “no,” he coughed, “I mean, I’ll make my own way to the palace. You don’t have to.”

“Taehyung,” Jimin said. His tone had him clamping his lips shut. A shiver snaked down his spine at the look in Jimin’s eyes, one that had his entire body stiffening. “Let me take care of you, pretty, okay?”

Taehyung choked, “O-okay.”

“Perfect,” and that look was gone. Jimin was smiling again and his eyes disappearing. “I’ll see you then, Taehyungie.”

God, what had he gotten himself into?

When he returned home to his parents and informed them of his dinner plans, they had laughed at him, thinking their son had finally reached the pinnacle of insanity. Taehyung kept trying to convince them but they only brushed him off, that was until a car pulled up up front. Taehyung wanted to know how Jimin knew where he lived but royalty seemed to know everything anyway.

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Kim,” Jimin smiled. He looked so out of place in the average household that was closer to shabby on the spectrum. His clothes glimmered with its golden pieces and his smile could rival them with its brilliance.

“Y-your highness!” his father was the first to recover and drop to his knees and his mother followed suit. They urged their children to follow but Taehyung could only stand stone stiff. Jimin has told him before that he hated it. As predicted, he crouched to encourage them to stand. “W-what brings you to our humble home, your highness?”

Jimin tilted his head then looked at Taehyung. “I was under the assumption that your son has explained the situation to you. I will be having him for dinner and, in exchange, I can lend you the services of the royal staff.”

I will be having him for dinner could be taken in two very different ways.

“That won’t be necessary, please, he would be honored,” his father cleared his throat and his mother hurried to Taehyung, mentioning something about preparing him.

Within minutes, they put him in the best threads they had which probably couldn’t compare to even the worst of Jimin’s outfits. However, it was the only thing they could gather up in such last minute notice. His mother was going to rip him a new one when he came back.

Leaving his family to Jimin’s maid made him a little uncomfortable, but he didn’t have time to regret as the prince himself pushed him into the car and allowed him to settle back against the leather seats. It felt almost like a sin for his filthy hands to touch the clean setup of the car, but Jimin kept insisting that he relax. The two talked quietly on the way back, mostly with the prince questioning him on his daily life. It didn’t feel right for him to do vice versa as, well, he was the prince.

Although Taehyung had seen the castle from afar, the up close and personal view left his jaw dropping. It was massive, stones layered over each other to construct a massive building fit for the royal family. They rounded the estate and went to one of the smaller towers, which he assumed was where they were heading for dinner. Instead of the staff eyeing him strangely, they instead regarded him with nothing but politeness. It was almost unnerving to have people serve him and offer him things when that had always been his role.

Jimin had ensured that they prepared a great spread for the two of them and he was right. He was most definitely right when Taehyung’s gaze landed to the full table stretched across the room. “I wasn’t sure what your favorite was so I sort of got them to make everything,” he chuckled almost nervously.

Again, all throughout dinner, Taehyung ate humbly, picking on things he liked and never asking for more. Though, that didn’t prevent Jimin from piling more atop his dish and having him fill his stomach to the brim. Jimin continued to ask him questions about his life, how he liked it in the village. “I’m just so curious,” Jimin grinned earnestly.

“This is like a prince and the pauper moment,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, never intending for the prince to hear it but he did and he asked the boy what he meant. “Um, like the story? The story about the prince and the pauper who exchanged places for a day as they looked alike so one could have a taste of the other’s life.”

Jimin looked genuinely surprised. “That sounds interesting, I must read that. I’m not sure how that would work with us though. You’re so tall and handsome.”

Taehyung felt heat sneak up the back of his neck and to his face, garnishing his face with a pretty coral color. “Ah, thank you. But you are–handsome, that is.”

“Not tall?” Jimin teased.

“Not taller than me,” Taehyung chuckled, then his eyes instantly widened, a “sorry” on the tip of his tongue.

“Don’t apologize,” Jimin giggled, “that’s what I like to hear. I want you to be relaxed around me, okay? We’re friends. Yeah, friends. I need you to be able to talk to me like this.”

That really was a feat considering Jimin was the actual prince and, if he wanted Taehyung’s head on a plate, he would have it served on a golden platter (he wasn’t sure why but he figured royalty would have a thing for decapitation). “Alright, I’ll try,” he murmured.

“And,” Jimin coughed, hiding his smile behind his fist, “if you’d like, I’d love it if you would join me for dinner from time to time. The castle gets a little lonely so it will be nice to have some company.”

It was a strange request, but Taehyung’s heard his fair share of it, he supposed. This time, it just came from someone who was on his way to ruling the entire kingdom. Taehyung could only smile and nod, agreeing that he would make some time to make it to Jimin’s dinners.

That was the beginning of it all. The start of their odd friendship kept a hidden secret from everyone else. Jimin’s closest maids and knights knew him, were familiar with him even and would go as far as to treat him like royalty in spite of his insistence that he really was still not. He sometimes slept over at Jimin’s place before returning in the early hours of dawn to get back to work for his family. Other times, the two would share a few drinks that left them all buzzed and warm—these days, Taehyung would end up teasing Jimin more, the two of them getting caught in a tussle that finalized with either of them pinning the other down, announcing their victory. It started with small touches, light swatting of hands, then a little bit of wrestling and pinching, before they started to feel comfortable with hugging and sitting on each other’s lap, tickling the other’s chin and kissing their cheek.

It was all supposed to be harmless and temporary. Taehyung thought that way—or tried to convince himself at least. However, it wasn’t until that one night that things spiraled.

Jimin had stolen a bottle of wine from his father’s private collection, bringing it to Taehyung with happy tittering. As they always did, they pulled out the cork and ended up in Jimin’s bed and popping open his television to watch some dumb show that was playing. Only this time, they managed to finish the entire bottle after cleaning out a few margaritas that his chef had prepared.

“Mmm,” Jimin hummed, nuzzling his face into Taehyung’s neck, hand placed on his broad chest. “God, this feels so nice and warm. You feel so good here. You should stay here all the time.”

Taehyung laughed, “If only, Jiminie. It’s nice here, I like it. But I still have my family and responsibilities.”

“I know,” he moaned, rolling over so he was practically draped over Taehyung, “but I just like having you here. The palace is always way too quiet, you bring a little more light into it.”

“That’s romantic,” Taehyung murmured, drawing his gaze away from the screen to look at Jimin. The prince was staring right back at him, big eyes peering into his soul. Absentmindedly, Taehyung’s eyes fell to Jimin’s lips. His plump, thick lips that wrapped around fruits so prettily, that rounded to form the syllables of his words. Taehyung had always found them pretty, thought them to be the sexiest part of Jimin.

The air crackled with heavy tension as the two remained silent, only their breathing echoing in the empty room. The maids have all gone off to bed for the night and Taehyung and Jimin were alone in his room. Jimin shifted a little, moving upwards so he was face-to-face with the other boy. He drifted closer and closer until their noses bumped, until he could fan his breath on Taehyung’s cheek, until their lips brushed. It started slow and steady, Taehyung unsure of what to do as his hand raised to the small of Jimin’s back to draw him tighter into him. Jimin moved his lips against Taehyung’s who followed his lead and swallowed Jimin’s small groans of pleasure. He pressed deeper and harder, lips seeking out Taehyung’s more insistently.

Kissing Jimin was like an instant addiction. Taehyung knew then that Jimin had ruined kisses for him forever. His tongue darted out to seek permission from Taehyung and the boy’s mouth opened for Jimin almost obediently. Their tongues tangled together, saliva mixing together and the sweet taste of sugar in their mouths. Hot breath mingled in the air in between them as their hands began to roam. Taehyung ran his hands over the hard planes of Jimin’s abs and shoulders while the prince felt up the softness of Taehyung’s belly. They kissed and they kissed until their lips were sore, until Jimin tugged Taehyung’s shirt over his head. He nosed down the other boy, along his jaw and down his neck, pressing wet kisses and grazing his teeth on the delicious caramel skin.

“Fuck, Tae,” Jimin moaned, his voice vibrating into Taehyung. “You’re so goddamn pretty.”

“J-Jiminie, please,” Taehyung whimpered jerking his hip up.

Jimin kissed his way up his neck and to his ear, nipping on the skin and tugging on it. “Want you on my cock, pretty. I want to see you. Have you ever touched yourself?”

The question had Taehyung blushing, entire body warm with humiliation that Jimin took in more than happily. “N-no, never,” he whispered, losing all sense of understanding as Jimin captured his lips again.

“Do you—do you want me to show you?” Jimin asked, eyes twinkling in the dim lights of the room. Taehyung managed to swallow thickly and nod. “Turn around for me, pretty, let’s see that ass of yours.” Taehyung, ever obedient, did as he was told and pressed his face into Jimin’s pillow. He was lying face down but Jimin propped him up so his knees were planted on the sheets and his butt in the air. The prince ran his hand over the curve of his pretty ass, whispering about how Taehyung had a fantastic ass. “Every time you bent down in the market,” Jimin moaned, “God, I wanted to smack this ass of yours. Make it all red and pretty in front of everyone.”

A gasp slipped past his lips at Jimin’s admission and Taehyung found his body lighting up with interest. His cock twitched in his pants, a familiar reaction around Jimin, yet also novel in the wake of his words. The thought of getting stripped naked, humiliated in front of everyone, lit a fire within him. Instead of feeling disgusted at the thought, Taehyung could already picture himself basking in the attention as well as Jimin’s touch.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Jimin growled, fingers digging into his scalp and tugging lightly on the thick locks. Taehyung whined a little at the sensation, loving the way it sort of stung. “Who knew you could be so desperate like this, pretty?” Jimin grinned wickedly, “You’re so pretty already, but I can’t imagine how great this must look, hm.” He smoothed his palm down his behind again, stroking it gently.

Taehyung felt the fabric slip down, the looseness of the comfort of his pants falling away. The sudden chill was almost immediate, but Jimin quickly countered it with his hand that radiated warmth. Jimin kneaded his ass, spreading the cheeks far apart before letting it squeeze back again. Each time with a groan louder than the previous.

The atmosphere was magnetic, drawing Taehyung in like a moth to light. Jimin’s touch seared fire into his skin, imprinting a new wave of pleasure each time. He had never known a presence to be so prominent, creating a bond that connected the two of their souls as one. He chanced a glance over his shoulder to see Jimin leaning closer and pressing a kiss against the plushness of his ass.

“May I?” Jimin asked, the sweet lilt in his voice ever present. It threw him back to the time they first met. Oh, how far they’ve come. Taehyung trusted Jimin, loved him even—but the latter he would take to the grave. He nodded his consent and Jimin beamed happily, peppering his soft skin with kisses that had him melting.

When he felt a sudden coolness touch that part of him, he jerked away. Jimin almost leapt away in worry, but apologized for the abruptness of it. “W-what is that?” Taehyung stammered, feeling the cold liquid drip between his cheeks and down his legs.

“It’ll make it hurt less, baby, I promise.” Baby. Jimin had never used pet names with him, but he never wasn’t objecting to the idea. It sent another dose of desire crashing upon him. Taehyung nodded and hid his flushed face back in his sheets.

The prince moved slowly and carefully, making sure that Taehyung was comfortable throughout the entire thing. Despite the initial sting when Jimin slipped one finger into his hole, one he never dared venture to, Jimin bode his time and continued to whisper sweet encouragements in his ear and soothing touches on his skin. He stretched the entrance, tugging on it at times whenever Taehyung moaned his approval. With that in mind, he managed to squeeze in two then three fingers inside of Taehyung.

“Such a good boy, Taehyung,” Jimin murmured, watching in absolute mesmerization as Taehyung’s tunnel sucked his fingers in. “Look at you, pretty, taking my fingers so well. You really do like this.”

He did, he really did. He enjoyed the friction much more than he should’ve. He felt a little pathetic that his cock was already dripping filth onto Jimin’s pure, silky sheets. There was something sinful to the act, of tainting something so expensive with his arousal. Taehyung could only groan whenever things felt good, wince whenever it hurt a little.

Jimin continued to move his fingers in and out of the tightness slowly, curling them from time to time to pry his insides open. However, it wasn’t enough. Taehyung wanted more, he wanted that release. “J-Jiminie, please. I-I want you.”

His fingers stuttered in their movements as Jimin gaped at the boy. “Are you sure? We can just stick to this for now.”

“N-no,” he breathed, “please. I—fuck, I just really want you inside me right now.”

Jimin’s throat moved as he gulped and nodded, shedding off his own pants and—holy shit. Taehyung was graced with the beautiful sight of Jimin standing stark naked before him. Jimin moved to pull the boy’s shirt over his head and toss it aside. However, all the boy could pay attention to was the smooth, unblemished skin. Taehyung could think of a million adjectives to describe Jimin’s beauty and none of them would ever do him justice. His gaze finally dropped to his cock, thick and hard, curving upwards with the blood that had rushed south between his legs. “See what you do to me?” Jimin snarled quietly, crawling over Taehyung’s nude form to cover his mouth with his again. “You’ve got me so hard, pretty. Looking at you all hard and wet for me, fuck. I want that all the time, want you always naked on my bed, stripped bare and open for the taking.” He nipped and nibbled on Taehyung’s swollen lips, loving the whines he drew from his lips. Jimin’s fingers toyed with his nipples, pinching and fondling them until Taehyung was crying against his mouth.

“J-Jimin, please,” Taehyung bucked his hips up desperately.

“Up, baby, let’s get you on my cock, yeah?” Jimin rasped, voice sounding a little breathless and sexy as fuck. “Since it’s your first time, I don’t want to hurt you so let’s have you ride me so you can control how fast and hard you want to go. Okay, pretty?”

Taehyung swallowed up all the compliments, absolutely adoring the way Jimin always called him pretty. He had felt attractive once upon a time, but it was nothing compared to the way Jimin showered him with praises of his beauty and charm. He nodded and backed away as Jimin settled back onto the sheets.

“Now, I want you to watch me,” the prince smirked, grabbing the unlabeled bottle he had used earlier and dropping a huge blob onto his cock. His hand quickly worked the gel along the length, his lips letting out a small hiss at the coldness of the material. “God, what have you done to me, Taehyung? You always have me so damn desperate for you, my cock always so hard for you. You’re such a filthy little thing without even trying, you sinful thing.”

The other boy babbled incoherent responses that only made Jimin’s lips curve into a smug smile. Jimin threw his head back, eyes falling closed as he continued to stroke his shaft. The lewd sounds filled the empty room, slick squelches bouncing off the walls to replace the silence.

“S-shit, feels so good, can’t—goddamn, can’t wait to be inside you, pretty,” Jimin gasped, opening his eyes and staring at Taehyung with a glazed feral look swirling in his eyes. He seemed almost manic, crazy. It was the kind of look that had heat bubbling up in Taehyung’s stomach. “Climb on top, pretty, slide that pretty ass down on my cock.”

Taehyung quickly scrambled over, straddling the boy and biting his bottom lip nervously. This was his first time and his heart was racing. Although he had always had the telltale signs that he was attracted to Jimin, acting upon it was a different story altogether. Jimin coaxed him slowly, words of encouragement tumbling from his mouth that spurred Taehyung’s confidence.

Taking a deep breath, he positioned Jimin’s cock at his entrance, tip swirling around the rim clumsily. He loved what it did to Jimin, had him groaning in protest at how Taehyung was teasing him, mocking how fucking desperate he was for Taehyung’s ass. When he finally pushed it in, there was a sharp pain that shot through him. He almost cried at how thick Jimin was, the head of his cock barely making it past the ring. The prince easily pulled him down to a kiss, distracting him from the sting as he slowly sunk lower and lower. Before he knew it, Jimin was buried deep inside of him. His entire body was throbbing and screaming, but Taehyung could still feel that brewing pleasure inside of him.

“You—” Jimin choked “—you can move, pretty. Take it at your own pace, yeah?”

The boy nodded and lifted himself up before sliding back down. His palms were planted firmly on Jimin’s chest for support as he moved himself along the cock, ass taking in whatever it could of the prince’s length. He rode him slowly at first, then faster and faster, before returning to a cautious pace. The mixture of speeds fueled the fire that had ignited inside his stomach. It was a deliriously good sensation.

More filthy praises fell from Jimin’s gorgeous lips, persuading him to keep going, keep riding him. The friction sent bolts of electricity shooting through him at a rapid pace that had his cock twitching. Every time he fell down, cock sinking deeper and harder into him, his cock bounced against his stomach. The tip was oozing precome, drops of it rolling down the length. Everything felt so good, felt so incredibly indescribable. Taehyung had never felt this kind of pleasure before, never in his life.

It was the sort of pleasure that would leave him coming back for more. Once you fell into this world, there was no rising back from this sheer thrill. Pants escaped his mouth, filling the room in the sounds of desire. Everything was wet and loud, echoing in the span of the room loaded with nothing but the two of them. Taehyung remembered all of Jimin’s little whines, his grunts, and stored them away for safe keeping and future reference in his memories.

“J-Jiminie, wanna c-come,” Taehyung sobbed out, “f-feels so—ah—so good. Hnnng, s-shit, so good. I’m so—oh God, mmph—so close.”

“Yeah, pretty?” Jimin panted, “you close? You want to come, pretty?”

Taehyung nodded eagerly, tears streaking down his face until the saltiness reached his tongue. “Please, yes, aaah—please, let me come.”

“Go on, baby, go on then. Let me see you come all over that pretty stomach.” Jimin grunted, jerking his hips up this time in tempo with Taehyung’s movements. The action had his cock hitting deeper inside of him, harder too. The tip of his cock kept pressing inside of him. His prostate had been worked to sensitivity and was then pushing harder for his release. “Let go, Taehyungie, I want to see you come.”

He didn’t need to ask twice, especially not when Jimin had wrapped his small fingers around the thick girth of Taehyung’s cock. He tugged on it, pulling on it hard and fast until Taehyung was spilling all over his hand. The milky white semen looked incredible all sticky on his skin. Jimin grinned as well, happy with the result. He continued to squeeze him until he released the last drop of his release.

Taehyung’s movements slowed as the adrenaline seeped away from his body, leaving exhaustion in its wake. It was then that he realized his thighs had been burning the entire time from the strain. “Up, baby,” Jimin breathed, “can I come on your face?”

Without fucking question.

Jimin maneuvered him so he was lying on his back then. The prince climbed on top of him, cock directly in front of his face. Taehyung’s mouth watered at the sight, and he could even feel his cock rising to attention again. “So pretty, look at those lips,” Jimin moaned, “you’re so pretty, Taehyungie. I want to decorate your pretty face with my come.”

“P-please,” Taehyung panted, lips parting almost unconsciously as he stuck his tongue out.

The other boy let out a pleased sound at the view and his fingers moved along his length faster and faster, precome already dribbling all over the place, all over Taehyung’s chest. It wasn’t long before Jimin was spurting hot come all over Taehyung’s face, streaking his pretty features with white that covered his lips and lashes. God, it was like a work of art he wished he could have it framed. Jimin came hard and let everything flow out naturally.

When the two finally fell back spent, Jimin quickly lifted Taehyung in his arms bridal style. He touched the warmth of the bath he had prepared earlier and thanked the heavens for heated tubs. Carefully, he set the boy down into the tub and let the warm water soak him. Taehyung hissed at his sensitive skin touching the heat, but felt all of his muscles unwinding. “There you go, pretty,” Jimin breathed, chest heaving with his lack of breath. “I’ll wash you all clean, okay?” Jimin grabbed a sponge and, despite his tired state, he began to scrub Taehyung and soaped him up.

“Jiminie,” Taehyung whispered when Jimin was concentrating on cleaning his chest, brows knitted. He looked up at the call of his name and the sight of his gorgeous friend looking at him with such intense affection. Jimin felt his own heart skip as he smiled, asking him what he wanted. “Kiss. Want a kiss.”

The request took him aback but he giggled and humored him anyway, leaning forward to press his lips against Taehyung’s. They still felt as soft as he remembered.

“You did well today, Taehyungie,” Jimin murmured, drying the boy and blowing his hair with the whirring machine.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” the prince hummed.

Taehyung sighed, “I want to do this again. I like this.”

“Yeah?” Jimin beamed, “we can definitely do this again, but for now, let’s get you into bed. You need your beauty sleep.”

The boy was pliant and soft in his hands, doing as he was told and slipped underneath the covers. “Goodnight, Jiminie.”

“Goodnight, Taehyungie.”

#bts #taehyung #jimin #vmin #vminweek2017 #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #vmin scenarios #vmin smut #vmin fanfic #aaaah im so tired cuz im still traveling but i rlly wanna finish this ship week #sorry for any typos cuz i didnt have time to read it over

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punk-in-docs · 7 years

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Sweet Thing, Chapter 1

AU, Dr. Strange x Loki x Original female character - Smutty ficlet Chapter number: Chapter 1 Author: Punk-in-docs Notes/triggers: This smutty/flirty little fic was inspired by this post and this song (Be warned, The video is super weird, but I love the song)The smut will come in a little later, but this will lead onto a threesome fic, no smut as of yet, folkies. Let me know what you think, I’m still iffy about this chapter, I don’t think it got off the ground, but I’ll see what the feedback says..

I was late – usually I was never late. I’m usually that odd breed of neatly organised, and freakishly over prepared for anything girl. But on the brand spanking new day on the job, filling in my father’s shoes, on the New York Presbyterian’s hospital board. I knew, somewhere, in this clinical, wretched maze of hallways, there sat a conference room, filled with middle-aged, balding, plump old men, no doubt all of whom were annoyed, and making quick assumptions about my tardiness, all of such, who were now awaiting my presence. I was paranoid now, most likely all those men were now remarking me to be a fickle employee, and devastatingly rude not to show up on time.

labyrinthine hallways, and I didn’t want to dare glance at my Armani watch, because I just knew , with gut dropping trepidation, that it read ten minutes more than I cared it too. Now I had my, true, directions, obtained by a terse temped nurse at the station desk, I strode as quickly as these pinching, sodding laboutins would let me. I felt like a sweating, panting, red-cheeked, mess.

My hair which she had spent ages pinning, now some curls straggled free. Begins to wonder if I should fret over whether or not I now had perspiration stains under my armpits. I’d no doubt that now the crisp, spotless, grey shift dress that was put on fresh, this morning, was now doomed to be wrinkled, and shabbily creased. My hands were full with all of the folders, which I’d combed through relentlessly in preparation for today, my jacket that I definitely would not be needing was folded over one arm. The soundtrack of my heels clacking along the lino, got faster and faster, and thankfully, I could make out the blessed boardroom I needed to be in, dead ahead. Conference room, number 73a.

I struggled on, opening the door with an incapacitated hand, which held all the folders, jerking open the door with a bump of my hip. As it swung inwards, and I clumsily crossed the threshold, I could feel the weight of all the inhabitants of the conference room, turn to me. My stomach coiled tight, like a tense spring. I had wanted to power through this first, initial meeting with notable vivacity, competence, and to bring an intelligent, new, voice to the table. But, sanding there, red-faced, sweaty, late and feeling no more competent than a giggling schoolgirl. My throat was a sticky, dry chasm, I swallowed, and then the man at the far end of the conference table, with white hair, and dark grey eyebrows, and a wrinkled face of annoyance and dismay, was the first to speak up.

“And you, must be?…” He asked. Flipping through paperwork in front of him. Not requiring her answer. Lifting sheets leisurely. Like a teacher would revel in a misbehaving student’s fear. “Mr Knight’s replacement?” He asked me. As if I were standing on trial.

“I’m his daughter. Taking his much-lamented place on the trustees board, financial board, and the chair of hospital governors. I’m, Miss, Knight. I apologise for my tardiness, this morning, was…full of calamities…” I made clear. He seemed no more displeased than he had been ever since I entered the room. But he smiled, curtly, and gestured to the empty seat far down the table, opposite to his lofty end, in the seats of shame reserved for those who are abominably, rudely, late. Before I moved to take my seat, he spoke up some more.

“You’ll be pleased to hear, Miss Knight, that you are consequently not the only unpunctual person to arrive at our meeting. As it is, we are still waiting on one of our surgeons to join us… He too favours a, sluggish, pace…” He dug, eyeing me shrewdly. Inhospitably. His criticisms made my teeth clench in annoyance.

To avoid floundering all the more, I summoned the last remaining scraps of my dignity, and slid noiselessly into the seat. The woman a couple of seats down, gave me a smile that belied the annoyed energy in the rest of the room. She looked mousy, with messy, but beautiful ravens hair back in a typical, secretarial bun. She had on large, glasses that dwarfed her un-made up face, and a small, cute smile, that looked like she didn’t use it much. I flopped ungraciously - agitated at myself now - into my seat. Which crunched and creaked when it swivelled, and the drone of business continued on around me. I noticed she kept glancing over at me, as I flipped open the provided paperwork that summoned this meeting today. I tried to zone in on the projections, but then she whispered a quiet ‘psssst’ that quite matched her mousy persona, catching my attention.

“Hi. Um-I-I’m really sorry to interrupt…” She whispered. “but, um, I-I think you’re… well, you’re missing an earring.” She remarked, touching her left earlobe.

Startled, my hands instantly shot up to my ears, and found that whilst one nestled in my left lobe, the horrible feeling of nothing but flesh was in my right. I gave her a thankful smile, and slid my chair back, if only a little, tucking my knees under, and scanning around the speckled grey carpet. They were of huge sentimental value to me, my heart ached with the thought of losing them. I searched the floor, and as I was certainly positive that the business meeting was paying no attention to the rude, latecomer, I eased back into the seat, and continued the search, relieved when at last I saw the tiny silver glimmer of the back, and the face of the earring, laying, some distance apart, on the clean, insipid tones of the carpet.

Relieved, I rose from my seat as silently as was possible, trying not to incur the wrath of my prickly colleague, I quickly darted to the floor, on my knees, and reached my hand out to pluck the earring, and the back, taking them into my palm. On my hands and knees, on the first day of the job… I thought. Not dignified in the slightest. It was then, I noticed, that the door to the conference room had been opened, and someone had strode in, presumably the late, great surgeon they spoke of. I could see a pair of men’s shoes come into my view. Stood close. The shoes were polished, to an immaculate high shine. Bespoke, expensive. And here I was, on the floor, in front of said man, with my behind wiggling comically up in the air as my outstretched arm sought for the front of my earring. I blinked, craning my head up, through a stray curl of hair that folded over my eye, to look up at the, tall, man.

Up past runner’s legs, strong thighs framed by flawlessly cut, grey suit fabric, up past an impressive crotch that wouldn’t do me any favours by staring at the generous indication of what lay beyond his fly zipper. Up to a bright, clean, spotless white shirt, bordered either side of a strong torso, by a matching grey jacket. Up past broad shoulders, there comes the fine taper of his neck, and then, my eyes landed on his face, and, Oh holy hell.

I’d never really experienced the thunder-and-lightning-from-the-heavens kind of attraction before. But from one look at this, god of a man’s, handsome, elegant, fine face. My whole body clenched, and I could feel my clit tingling with naughty, shameful thoughts. He had a face that was all angles, sharp cheekbones, a fine blade of his nose, but his lips, were simply beautiful. In the most masculine way a man’s mouth could be beautiful. It took me a few seconds to recall that I’d seen his face, I realised, on the cover of numerous medical journals, all of which remarked him to be the prodigy of the surgical field. Surgeon Supreme. Dr. Stephen Strange. With eyes as sharp as the tools of his trade, which cut into you over the brim of his surgical mask. Today, those piercing eyes glinted down at me in mirth, raking over the curve of my spine, as I was still on all fours, practically prostrate at his feet. He wore a goatee, that would have looked horrid on any other man, his long, structured face made it look sinfully good. One hand was folded leisurely into his trouser pocket, forcing, straining tight the material against his crotch. Making my eyes instantly drawn to what lay beneath. My mouth went dry and I averted my gaze.

My face heated up, glowing red, as one side of his luscious lips tilted up, and he smirked down at me in my, more than compromising, and embarrassing position. My words melted in my mouth, and I fought, hard, to find a response, that simply refused to come. My mind kept crowing about the fact of the, very, sexual undertone of the position I was in, And if I was being perfectly honest, I noticed his eyes lingered for a second, or three, longer than was polite, on my ass. Still comically stuck up high in the air, for all to see.

“Late, as ever, Dr. Strange…” My prickly, snappy friend from before remarked dryly to the swaggering surgeon as he entered the room. Strange barely even flickered those narrow, feline eyes up in the man’s direction. He smiled, down at me, instead.

“I was on call, Mr. Johnson. Saving lives, I’m told from a reliable source, that you board members, quite like it when us surgeons do things like that.” He comments sarcastically. Mr. Johnsons face twitched in infuriation. I made a move to get off my knees, bending one leg up, when I noticed he held down a hand to me, when I looked up at him once more, he raised an amused brow. “I don’t bite…. unless provoked…” He flirts, still smirking down at me. Slowly, I take his offered hand, and rise to my feet. My cheeks still scarlet red, and giving off enough heat to fry an egg on. I came to my feet, and felt my knees, rubbed raw, from being pressed into the rough bristles of the carpet. I thanked him as I joined the earring together, and slid it onto the table top.

“Mr Johnson, why was this delectable creature on her hands and knees? Or are we starting to play games on the freshmen trustees now?” He asks with a grin, which only seemed to annoy Johnson further.

“This is Miss Knight, she is replacing Vincent Knight on the board. Now, we’ve had far too many interruptions for one meeting, please, both of you, take a seat, and then maybe we can get on with actually helping to run this hospital.” The terse Mr. Johnson requested – somewhat curtly.

“With Pleasure. Don’t you know, I simply live for conferences like these…” Strange crooned, teasing, cupping my hand gently in his. He had merely flexed his fingers over mine, but it did something funny to my knees. I wet my lips, biting my bottom lip, and I felt his hand tighten, and his eyes flared, darker. Only for a second, like it was a cloud passing over on a sunny day. I shook his hand back, and dared myself to meet his eyes. Yet, still, somehow I felt both hot, and cold, and was very aware my thighs were trembling with the nerves. I chided myself internally to get a grip. But then he smiled some more, and I had to repeat the whole rotten cycle. Cursing my stupid, female reflexes that went all gooey in the presence of a handsome man. And he was egotistic, too, that was worse. I always had been, and always would be, a sucker for an arrogant guy.

“It’s… nice to meet you. Dr Strange. I’ve read a lot about your achievements. Some would call you a pioneer in the surgical field.” I complimented. Though I was safely positive his ego needed no further boosting. Though I could see my flattery had made his smile wider, all the same.

“…And I can’t say what the rest call me… But I’m assured it’s not in good spirit.” He jokes. I smile back. But sensing the mood of Mr. Johnson behind us turn all the sourer.

I quickly retook my seat, more than aware that my body found the man next to me, exactly three things. Obnoxious. Insolent. And Captivating. I especially noticed his body, shift the air, next to me. Sending a wave of his cologne to drift across in my direction. My gut clenched up all the more, and as I sat I squeezed my thighs together, tight.. What was it about a man’s fragrance that made it so deliciously enticing to women? I refocused in on what Johnson & co. were saying, feeling my knickers were almost sopping, by now. It was infuriating, getting so worked up about a man I barely knew.

Maybe it was because you haven’t had any action, sexual, loving, rough, dirty, or otherwise, for over three years, you imbecile… My Judas of a brain spits out. And now, the arrogant sod sat next to me, practically oozing testosterone, was giving my uterus some very, mixed,opinions about whether or not leaping into bed, with the most self-absorbed, vain Doctor, within an hour of starting at a new job, was truly the wisest decision for a woman to make. Yet again, when the sight of his hands, merely made my sex clench, leads me to believe that I will not be free of this niggling, instantaneous attraction anytime soonish.

I bit my lip, tapping my foot madly, fidgeting, wildly as my ears tuned into the boards conversation. But it was all for naught. As every time Strange moved, my brain came to a blinding, screeching halt. The click of my heel tapping the floor calms me, roots me back to earth as I try to ignore the handsome surgeon, not a metre away from me. Especially not when his suit arm, brushed against my elbow, I blinked, and my breath was shaky as it came out. I shut my eyes for a second, willing the thoughts in my head away.

He had nice hands, doctor’s hands. I wanted those hands. Sliding over my body, down over my hips, smoothing up past my waist, I wanted that man’s beautiful mouth on my neck, biting, sucking, marking me. I wanted to see him drop to his knees, and guide my thighs open to dive for my clit. Those talented, dexterous fingers sliding between my thighs to tease my-

“Miss Knight?” jolted me out of my frankly, pornographic, reverie. As a low, rumbling voice ushered into my ear. Buggering hell. It came from my left.

I turned to look at him, and those intense eyes bore into me. Deep. I cleared my throat, and tried my utmost best to look as if I hadn’t just been daydreaming so avidly about his hands stroking pleasure onto my nude body. I smiled, raising my eyebrows to politely enquire as to why he’d spoken my name. Lords, his voice alone could send a girl spiralling into a skull-shaking orgasm…

As it turns out, he didn’t want to speak. As I looked over, he slid a small scrap of paper in my direction under his hand. Retracting it after he did. I could see an expensive Mont blanc fountain pen, laid atop the polished table. Anchoring a yellow legal pad down. The top page had been torn off at the bottom. His fingers drummed slowly on the table, aching, impatient for me to read it. On the paper, read two words…

‘British huh?’ was written in an elegant, mannish scrawl. I smiled a little at his cheekiness. I really did fall for the conceited ones. I flipped over his reply, and pulled out my own parker ink-pen to write a reply. I scribbled it, and sent it back.

‘What gave me away?’ was my cheeky reply. He smiled when he read it.

‘Bored?’ He wrote.

‘Insanely so. Plus, I think Johnson would like to throw me out of this very conference room on my ass.’ I made clear.

‘Johnson’s a boar. In more ways than the one. Don’t you dare let him put you on that lovely ass.’ He added. I chastised myself for blushing. He then wrote something else after that.

‘You smell good, kid.’ He flirted.

I bashfully bit my bottom lip, and blushed, once again. I was sure, this time, it reached the tips of my ears, and my chest. I turned and caught his eyes, and his smouldering glance. His smile looks ultimately wicked.

‘Is the surgeon supreme flirting with me?’ I worked up the bravery to write. His answer thrilled me more than I would have thought.

‘Yes he is.’ He scribbles.

‘Not taken, are you kid? Dating Prince Harry or etc..’ He remarked cheekily.

I made an annoyed face, and let him see.

‘Shouldn’t we be paying attention to the meeting?’ I interrupted the writing-come-flirting session.

‘Absolutely not. Not when Johnsons banging on about new medical taxes.’

‘And this surgeon supreme would very much like to .1) Take that lovely ass out for a drink, and .2) Get your first name, kid… There is a third, but if I wrote it down, you’d blush completely all over.’ Which made me stifle a smile.

I thought for a long second, taking my time. I saw those fingers drummed again. Impatiently. It was his nervous tick. Or, his frustrated one. I took a while, writing my response to such an index.

‘.1) This lovely ass doesn’t mix business with pleasure. .2) I was told to never give my name to strangers, and .3) Is entirely your fault.’ I watched as he read this, His jaw clenched, and he shot me a playful look that told me he would not be taking ‘no’ for an answer. Atleast, not easily…

‘Sweet thing, Game. Set. Match.’

thoughts? I didn’t know who to tag, so I tagged everyone…If anyone isn’ t a fan of Strange here, I apologise… @wolfsmom1 @totallynotasmutblog @echantedbytwh @frenchfrostpudding @heavymist @damageditem

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thedevilsoftruth · 19 days

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The Two-Faced Savior ( 1. The angel and the Martyr)

Pairing: Moon Knight system x Afab Reader

Content warning: drugs and alcohol, depression, sexual content, age gap ( 26 f, 35 m ) mdom/fsub dynamic, size difference, scratch marks, crying during sex, cheating with multiple people, mentions of spouse with cancer, biting, piv, Khonshu is also the worst person ever and literally hits the reader in one scene, rough sex, unprotected, two sex scenes, power play, sexual trauma, mentions of miscarriages.

W/c: 8k+

Summary: After your family is heald for ransom and eventually killed, you are the only survivor and are found in a back ally by a man named Khonshu who tells you he has a very powerful son who will save and protect you.

Notes: THIS IS MOSTLY COMIC MARC SPECTOR W COMIC REFRENCES BUT NO SPOILERS. ( takes place in New York in 1995. Don't ask me why, I don't know why either) Heavily inspired by The Downward Spiral by Nine Inch Nails. Very few elements here are inspired by Phantom of the Opera and mostly inspired by the movie Spilt. I came up with this fic a very long time ago when I wasn't in a good headspace. I used this as a coping mechanism. This fic is in no way, shape, or form glorifying abusive relationships. In fact, I try to make it very clear in this story that the relationships are unhealthy and not " sexy ". Abusive relationships are wrong and should not be viewed as sexy or healthy. if you are or know someone who is in an abusive relationship, please don't be afraid to seek help. You are not alone.

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Chapter playlist.

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It's times like these when you question how the hell you got to where you are. It's times like when you start to drink and smoke your life away when you realize just who you have become. I was questioning my life every single day that I lived. My life was a waking nightmare, nothing but a mere skinkhole waiting, threatening to consume me. I didn't even know who I was. Everyday i asked myself the same questions, who was I? What was I? How did I manage to have such a fucked up life? These were things I questioned as I sat in front of the tv screen as I was getting my hair combed out like I was a five year old from a man I was pretty sure was trying to abuse me.

" that's him... Isn't it, Khonshu? " I asked as I guled my tired eyes onto the screen. He hummed in response but I could tell he didn't look. He didn't want to and he didn't care to.

" You shouldn't watch too much tv, little lamb. It'll ruin you. " He said, spraying water on my hair and continuing to brush out the knots. But I wasn't paying attention to him or whatever the hell he was saying, I was too busy fixating on his supposed " son " that was being yet again reported on tv. I enjoyed watching the TV, but Khonshu didn't. Before I had gotten my own place, he barely would let me come down and watch it at night. But sometimes, in the middle of the night, I would come into the living room and turn on the TV real quiet and watch the news channels where they reported Khonshus son fighting crime. I would also steal and read the morning paper to see if there was anything about him in there as well. When I first met Khonshu two years ago, he told me I would meet his son, and then his son would protect me and train me to become a Moon Knight like himself. His name was Marc Spector.

Moon Knight... Marc Spector it had a nice ring, didn't it? I would bet he was handsome underneath the mask. Handsome just like his father. Yeah... His father was pretty easy on the eyes despite his personality. He was a very tall man, reaching above 7 feet tall. He was lanky and skinny and wore a white suit, he had a diamond like facial structure with a semi long beard and wore his hair long, black and slicked back. He claimed he was so tall because he was a " god ". I highly doubted it since the beginning.

For the past two years, i had been under his wing ever since I lost everything. My family. My home. He wasn't caring enough for me to pretend he was my father, and he wasn't empathetic enough to be a friend either. He was just someone in my life. Someone who gave me shelter, but that was about it. Khonshu wasn't the nicest person ever. He didn't yell at me, but he spoke to me in a way that drove every bit of confidence out of my soul. He treated me like a fucking pet, like I was his obedient servant. I had very little tolerance for him and he had very little respect for me. But the worst part about Khonshu was...

" Come here, little lamb. " He spoke in that sweet, tender voice he used all the time when he wanted something from me. I knew what was coming, and although I thought I was prepared for it, I wasn't. I sat down next to him but he picked me up and sat me down on his lap with my back against his chest.

" You know, you've been real good to me lately. Maybe I'll reward you. " he spoke as he stuffed his face into the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent and making me feel sick.

" Khonshu... I can't tonight. Please. My back is really messed up right now. " I said, closing my eyes tight as he ran his big hand down my thigh. Khonshu clicked his tongue and chuckled.

" Oh, poor baby. Well, that's too damn bad, isn't it? We made a deal, don't you remember? My salvation for you as long as you satisfy my needs in the end. " He cooed into my ear, reminding me of my burdens. The only reason I was still with him was because he made me feel good and gave me money. But I couldn't argue with him. Not anymore. I was completely powerless against him.

" you know the drill, little lamb. If you're good tonight maybe I'll be nice to you later on. " he tried to encourage me, even though nothing about encouragement by him made me want to have sex with him any less. He wouldn't be nice to me, and I knew he wouldnt. He said that to me everytime he got me underneath him, and he always ended up on fucking me until he felt like we needed to stop. And that would range from anywhere near from 1-6 hours. But still, knowing the consequences, I lifted my legs and rolled my lacy black panties past my ankles and off my feet.

He took his hand from my thigh and grabbed hold of my scalp, yanking my head back against his shoulder and making me yelp. " And maybe next time, don't try to get out of this by telling me a useless lie. Now sit back and enjoy my gift to you. It's not like you deserve it anyways. " He demanded, nudging his hips against mine and signaling me to take off his pants. I gulped, hesitating for a moment until I shifted myself on his lap and uncomfortably reached my hand for the zipper of his pants. I wanted to explain to him I wasn't lying to him, but nothing I would say would convince him otherwise.He wriggled around a bit and gave himself enough space from the couch and his body to let his pants run loose. I could feel his hungry cock already nudging against my cunt and it didn't make me feel excited. I felt dirty. I felt unwanted and guilty. I knew this man didn't actually want me, he just felt bad for me and was taking advantage of my vulnerability. Nothing he said was real. He didn't have a son, and he was not a god. He was just some dude trying to get some pussy.

Then that familiar feeling hit: his slimy cock entering into me like it did so many times before. My breath hitched, and as much as I hated it, I knew I liked it. If I didn't like it I wouldn't have been coming back, that's what he said at least. He let go of my scalp and took his glove off of his hand so that he could reach down and rub my clit. His greedy lips traveled up my neck, tasting my nervous sweat on his tongue as he slowly thrusted forward into me. It was the same thing as always. I smoke my day away and then come to his house to get fucked for money so I could pay fro my dying husbands medical bills. Even if I didn't want to come over, he would notice when I didn't call him and would call me himself and demand of my presence. And I would go. And I would let him control me.

" you're being awfully quiet. Don't tell me you've gotten sick of me. " He commented, almost stopping his thrusting completely. I knew he wouldn't be upset even if I confessed to being sick of him. He'd act like it, throw me out of his house and spit on me and tell me he didn't ever want to see me again, but I know he wouldn't actually give a shit. It's not like he didn't already have other women he kept on the side. But my silence said everything for me. Khonshu growled, and in one swift move he managed to get half of his 8 inch length into me, making me scream from the sudden discomfort and dig my nails into the palm of my hand.

" do I need to get out the toys? I wanted to go easy on you today but you're making it very difficult for me to not be harsh with you. " Khonshu threatened, his voice so deep in my ear I could feel it in my chest. I shook my head, my nose burning as a hot tear went down my cheek.

" no-no, please no. I'll be good, I promise. I'm sorry, sir. " I whimpered through soft cries. I didn't even understand what I did wrong. My back did genuinely hurt that night, I never lied to him about anything. I remember what happened the last time I " lied " or " disobeyed " him. He had tided me down with ankle and wrists restraints and had gone a round on me from the front, back, and side all two different times. I couldn't walk home that night, I gave up before I reached his porch and called my best friend of the time to come pick me up.

" Then be good. Prove it to me. Just take it, It's not that hard. " He whisper-shouted into my ear, rutting back into me faster than how he started and continuing to rub my sore clit around his finger that was was big enough to cover my entire pussy. He used his free hand to dig his nails into my skin, and he dug his sharp teeth into my neck and sucked my skin gently. I could feel my cunt becoming puffy and spilling out little juices around him, clear signs of my arousal but nothing about this was arousing to me. I wanted to throw something at him and tell him to go to hell, but that would make him bend me over the coffee table and ravage me like I was a toy for the next 5 hours.

" Fuck. Your little pussy is addicted. Clinging onto me like like the way it is right now, I'm starting to think that you're just pretending to not want me. " Khonshu whispered in my ear, licking and kissing my jaw and scraping my thigh with his fingernails. I let out a choked moan as I felt him rub a spot on my clitoris that caused my legs to jerk up in the air subconsciously. I felt his pace getting a bit faster, and the faster he got the harder he dug into my skin. He was digging so deep that he broke off a few layers of skin, and I was bleeding a bit, but he didn't care. He never cared about how I felt. In fact, he wanted to mark me. Not so that the world could see, but so that I could see and I could remember what he did to me.

Then, I couldn't keep it in much longer and I released onto his shaft. I didn't want to, but I couldn't control my orgasms. But he didn't care, he was gonna keep moving until he was done.

" Oh, look at you. I bet you were hoping for me to be done. Tsk tsk, Mmm, you gotta wait for me, too. " He chuckled darkly, slowing down and flipping me over on my back. He wasted no time to immediately start back at the same pace as before, knocking the wind out of my lungs each time his cock nudged against me. He took my wrists and pinned them together above my head, his two free middle fingers forcing their way through my mouth.

" Oh, little lamb. You need me to survive. You know this, right? " He asked. The question made me sick, but he wasn't exactly wrong. I did need him to survive. He was the reason I could keep my husband alive. I looked at him with tears flooding my eyes, my fingernails searching for anywhere on the couch below me to hang onto. My legs were shaking as he ruthlessly rutted into my sweet spot, eyes rolling into the back of my head as he drove into the deepest parts of me. He was groaning loudly, and he put a hand on my hip for support and to hold me down.

Khonshu made his final thrusts and then plopped out of me, taking me by surprise and shooting his hot spend onto my stomach. He looked me up and down, tongue darting out to wet his lips. I knew what ever he was planning next was evil.

" Taste it. " he commanded, guiding my hand onto my stomach. My hesitation showed when i didn't move for a moment. Khonshu huffed loudly and rose his hand, striking me across face hard and inflicting a loud cry out of me.

" That was an order, little girl. " He hissed, grabbing hold of my jaw and forcing my gaze towards his. My bottom lip quivered, and I was shaking profusely in fear. And what was I going to do? Say no to him?

I shakingly dragged my two middle fingers across my belly, collecting his fluids on my fingers before I parted my lips and stuck my tounge out. I looked up at Khonshu, rolling the tip of my tounge onto my fingers and licking his cum off my skin. I swallowed slowly, and it didn't taste good but I couldn't show that to him. He let go of my jaw finally and stared up at me with an evil grin.

" That's my girl. " He said, grabbing the back of my head and kissing my forehead. He stood and buckled up his pants, walked towards the coffee table next to the couch and grabbed a white handkerchief. He threw the handkerchief at me and It hit the back of my head softly. I picked it up and looked up at him. This was something he normally didn't do.

" Clean yourself and get out of here. You're lucky I even went easy on you tonight. " He said, walking out of the room and upstairs. He probably expected me to be gone within the next 10 minutes, so i hurried to the kitchen and soaked the handkerchief in warm water. I used the handkerchief to clean myself throughly and then dressed myself and left his house quickly.

__________

The next night was hell. I went and saw my husband in the hospital and then spent the rest of my night getting wasted in a bar.

The bar was quite empty, which was fine with me. It was too late anyways. I had just paided for my last drink of the night and was about to leave when a man came and sat next to me. He was wearing a leather jacket and a white tank top with black jeans and this goofy looking golf cap. He had a full mustache and a little bit of facial hair all over his jaw.

" Hello, beautiful. " He said after he had ordered a martini. I stared at him for a moment. It was usally bad news when a guy sat next to you in a bar, and that was his greeting. But he seemed harmless. He looked soft, and he didn't come off as disgusting as the other men in the bar. He smiled at me widely and put his hand out for me to shake.

" My name is Jake Lockley. Yours? " He had a very thick new york accent and his voice was deep and gravely, but it was seemingly pleasant. I looked at his hand for a minute, hesitant to take it.

" C'mon, darlin' don't leave a fellow hangin' " He joked, inching his hand closer to me. My lips quirked up into a small smile, and I took his hand and shook it. He had a very firm grip and I could feel that his hands were rough. He must have been a hard worker. He looked at the menu with a very intense look.

" Can I buy you a drink, ma'am? " He asked me, continuing to search the menu.

" No, thank you. " I responded, lowering my head into my arms on the bar table.

" Well, suit yourself. " he said, which was surprising to you because most guys would try and talk you into letting him buy you a drink. But he seemed different somehow.

" Hello Jake! " said a woman's voice from in front of you. It sounded like one of the very few female bartenders that worked in that bar.

" Hello Naomi. It's great to see you, beautiful. I'd like my usual, but give me two of them. " he told her. It seemed like he was a regular there. I didn't go there often, and I didn't even drink that often. But something had just brought it out of me that night.

I rose my head back up and looked at him. I tried to smile at him, but it came off looking odd and unnatural..

" My name is Y/N, by the way. " You told him. He looked back at you and grinned.

" That's a lovely name, darlin'. Almost as beautiful as you are. " He flirted, winking at me and making my cheeks heat up.

" Oh my--i-- thank you. " You responded. He chuckled. You looked at his jacket for a good second. He had a name tag on it that read, " Jake. L " That had the logo of the cities taxi cab company printed on it. So he was also a cab driver?

" anytime, sugar. What do you do for work? " He asked. You stared at your hands, becoming anxious. You didn't really have a job.

" I'm still tryin' to figure that out. I got fired from my job at FYE a couple months ago. " You explained to him. He hummed In response.

" I'm sorry to hear that, sugar. I hope you can find another job soon. The workspace is crazy nowadays. It's hard for people to find and get into jobs, and it's really sad. " He said, putting his hand on mine and looking at me with empathy in his eyes. He seemed really sweet and understanding, but i wasn't sure if he were trying to get in my pants or make " friends " with me.

A woman wearing black lipstick and a patch over her eye came back with two drinks in her hand and set them in front of Jake.

" Thank you, Naomi. " he said, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket and handing her a 30 dollar bill. She took it and smiled.

" Thank you, mister. " she said with a grin before walking away to take someone else's order. Jake put his fingers on the rims of the glass and moved it in front of me.

" Strawberry margarita, give her a try. You won't regret it. " He persuaded, immediately digging into his first. I gave the redish-pink drink a very long stare, unsure if i was going to dig in or not. I looked at Jake with a smile.

" No, thanks. I need to get back home. " I explained to him. He pouted.

" Can I walk you home? " He asked, and I thought about it for a second, but I decided upon disagreeing.

----

I didn't see Khonshu that night, and I didn't want to see him ever again. I made that decision up as I was drunkenly walking home. It was past 2 am and the busses weren't running and I lived too far away from any family or friends. I couldn't even walk up to my porch without stumbling and almost falling. I reached my hand into my purse and pulled out my house keys, but before I could open the door I heard a rustling noise from a bush. I looked over my shoulder, and saw a man standing on the sidewalk in front of my house.

" Are you miss L/N? " He asked me with this voice that was as clear as day, soft as silk and sweet like honey. He was a tall man with a muscular build wearing a completely white suit. He had a little bit of a very light beard, and had brown, curly, short hair with a slit in his right eyebrow. He reminded me a lot of Khonshu. I stared at him for a moment.

" Yes? How can I help you? " I questioned, quirking my eyebrow and wondering what the fuck he was doing out here, looking for me at 2 in the morning.

" Hello, ma'am, my name is Marc Spector. I was sent by a man you might know as Khonshu. " He said, reaching his hand out for me to shake. I didn't take it. Instead, I dropped everything I had in my hand and stared at him with an agape jaw and wide eyes. Was this really him? No, it couldn't be. He wasn't real. He was just a lie Khonshu came up with to use me. There was no way this was actually the Moon Knight.

" I'm sorry, I just--do you want to come inside? " Whatever I intended to say, it wasn't this. I could have--should have told him off. But no. There I was, inviting the possible son of a man I was having sex with into my house.

" I'd love to. " He said happily. He had a completely different demenor from Khonshu. This guy seemed genuinely nice and sweet, and Khonshu was everything but nice and sweet. So I gathered my stuff and opened the door for him, letting him in first so that I could shut and lock the door behind us.

" Please, make yourself comfortable. " I said, letting him wander around as I slipped my shoes off and put them next to the door.

" And can I, like, offer you something to drink? " I asked as he sat down at the dinner table in the kitchen.

" no, thank you. " He said, putting his hand up and smiling. How was this guy so cheery? He seemed like the complete opposite of Khonshu. I couldn't help but wander how Khonshu raised him. I couldn't stop myself from staring at him with the same expression even as I sat down in front of him. I was at a loss of words.

" Are you okay? " He asked. I scoffed.

" I'm sorry, I don't know what this is, but there is no way this isn't some sort of fucked up set up by Khonshu. Marc Spector isn't a real person, theres no way he is. " I spoke, smiling through my disbelief while making exaggerated movements with my hands as I spoke. He chuckled.

" you don't have to believe me. And you certainlydont have to believe him. " He said simply, reaching into his white suit jacket and pulling his wallet out of his breast pocket. He opened it and laid it in front of me, pointing to his i.d and drivers licence in the front two pockets.

Marc Spector. born on March 9th, 1960, in Chicago, Illinois.

I looked him up and down and furrowed my brows.

" who are you? " I asked, sitting up in my chair and reaching for my switchblade in my pocket and holding it out in front of me. His eyes widened and he put his hands up.

" whoa, there missy. I'm not here to hurt you. I know what you're thinking. I'm the son of Khonshu, I must be a dick, but please just listen to me for a second. " He explained, his cheeky grin fading and his tone becoming stern. Maybe he was serious.

" I know it's a lot to believe, but I'm here to help you. I don't like Khonshu, you, and me both on that, but I heard about you through him and needed to make sure you were okay. " He said, lowering his hands and standing up from his seat slowly. I stared at him, my eyes huge with rage and now becoming watery. That's when I started crying again. My hands were shaking, and the muscles in my face started becoming tense. Everything came back to me, and the mention of Khonshus' name reminded me of everything he'd done to me. The smacks across the face I'd received, the constant texting me and begging me to come over and satisfy him. I could feel the burning of his sharp nails digging into my thighs, and my legs shook at the thought of it. I put my hand down and began to relax.

" are you really here to help me? " I asked, my voice brittle and on the verge of breaking. He stepped closer to me.

" of course I am. You know, I don't fight crime for Khonshu, I do it for the justice of the people. not for him. " He whispered, almost as if he were telling me a secret about Khonshu and were afraid Khonshu could hear him, getting closer to me and reaching his arms out for me.

" I can feel your pain. " He spoke gently as he welcomed me into a warm embrace. I almost forgot how a real hug felt. My husband had been in the hospital and was too weak with cancer to move in the slightest.

" I know what you're feeling. Khonshu finds weak people he knows are fragile, pretends he cares about them, and then breaks them until they are nothing. He did it with me, and he's doing it to you, isn't he? " He asked, his voice so soft and tender I could fall asleep to it. Tear after tear fell from my eyes, and I was starting to feel like I couldn't breathe.

" yeah. " My voice was barley audible behind my heavy crying. He nodded and pulled away from me, looking at me with the most genuine empathetic expression I had ever been given.

" I will do anything in my power to keep you protected from him. I know how he is. The second he had brought you up to me, I knew I had to help. " He promised, patting me on my shoulder and wiping my tears away. I nodded, forcing a smile onto my face.

" I have to go now. Heres my house number and address in case you need me. I have work to do. " He said, handing me what seemed to be a little business card. On the top of the white paper, it said, the midnight mission with a crescent moon replacing the ' O ' in mission. I looked up at him as he walked to my front door.

" thank you, Marc." I said through a sniffled cry. He looked at me and grinned.

" No problem. And please, call me me Mr. Knight. " And just like that he was gone. Leaving me with burning questions for the rest of the night. I couldn't sleep that night, and all i could think about was my need for somebody's genuine comfort like his.

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

" You didn't do it. " I could hear him say from behind me as we walked out of her house. I scrunched my face up in anger at how difficult they were being. They'd been nagging to me about the plan all day.

" can you guys please just have patience? Things like this take time and effort. She has bad experiences with men. Just let her be for now. " I said as I pulled the mask over my head.

" I'm just saying, it'd be more fun if we just started-- "

" did you not hear anything I just said? I'm never letting her meet you guys. You guys are dirt bags. "

" yeah, sure, whatever. We'll see how that pans out. You're never able to contain us. "

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

The next morning, I went back to see my husband in the hospital. It was quiet in the room. The only audible sounds being heard were the clock ticking and his heavy breathing. He looked horrible. He had lost about six pounds, and skin around his eyes was dark, his cheekbones more defined than before.

" John. Johnny. " I called for him, shaking him very gently to see if he was still awake. He didn't move or peep a word, and i was left with silence and staring at him in his dying state. There was so much medical equipment hooked up to him. It was terrifying. His heart monitor was still going, and that made me relieved.

And then, Johnny made a movement with his hand, and I could hear a low groan come out of his lips.

" W-water. " He said, interrupting himself with a loud, heavy, wet cough. I looked around the room and saw an empty pitcher on a counter by a sink. Sink water probably wasn't the best idea, but it was something. I stood up and grabbed a paper cup from the counter and filled it up with water from the sink before rushing back to him.

" Here, " I said. " Drink. " He sat up a bit and opened his dry mouth, clamping his chapped lips onto the rem of the cup and slowly sipping out of it. He drank and dark until it was all gone, water dripping down his chin as he finished what was left. When he was for certain done with the cup, I withdrew it from his face and threw the cup away and got a paper towel to wipe off his face. I sat down in the chair next to him, and then, for a moment, I just stared at him. I remembered our history together, the day we got married, and even the bad days. like the many times we had tried to have a child, and my multiple miscarriages... And the day he was diagnosed with leukemia. A week before his diagnosis, my family had been heald for ransome. It seemed like luck was never on my side, and I was never going to be in a good situation. Johnny was my only reason for holding on. He was the light of my day, the sun to my moon. And now he was slipping away from me.

" are you feeling any better? " I asked worriedly as I watched him sitting back down. He shook his head no.

" Can you pull the sheets up? " He asked, his voice barely above a whisper and gravely. I couldn't hear most of the sentence. All I heard was " sheets up, "and that told me everything. I nodded and faked a smile, grabbing the top of his blanket and moving it up to his chest. I couldn't let him know I was so messed up over his situation.

" Is this fine? " I asked. He nodded. I sat back down in my chair and continued to stare at him. He was getting worse as the days went on. I wanted to stay with him, but I had been seeing him every day and didn't think I could take it anymore.

So, I left. I told him goodbye, and I left. This time, I smoked on my way home, angrily walking the sidewalks and turning the corners of streets as I questioned the point of anything. What truly was the point? What was the meaning of living if living was nothing but nonstop pain for me? I looked at happy couples pass by on the street, recalling the days when I was happy with Johnny. And all I could see or feel was Khonshu's fingernails scratching my skin and the disgusting things he said to me. All of my hope was gone. When I was a little girl, I wanted to be something. Maybe I could be a doctor, maybe I could be an author, maybe I could make movies, maybe I could star in movies. I'd never imagine I'd be broke at the age of 26 with a dying husband, and fucking a man for money. What a world I lived in.

I looked up at the sky for a moment. I was almost at my apartment, but I could sense something was wrong before I even knew something was wrong. There was always something wrong.

Up in the sky was a big cloud of smoke coming from the other side of an alley, which my apartment was. I sighed and cursed under my breath, put my cigarette out from the sole of my shoe, and immediately made a move to jump the wall. There was a broken chair nearby, which I used to hop over the wall with. When I hit the floor, all I could see was smoke, people running and policeman and firemen shouting. And the apartment I had been living in for a couple months, the apartment I worked so hard for, was now falling into peices under a flaming fire that was threatening to consume everything in its wake.

I ran across the grassy field and over to the crowd of policemen. I couldn't believe what I was seeing--I didn't want to believe what I was seeing.

" The hell is going on here? " I shouted, looking around frantically. When they noticed me, they were immediately telling me off.

"This is a crime scene, ma'am. we haven't caught who we're looking for. Please evacuate. " One man said, pointing to the direction away from the area. I didn't move. I couldn't process it. It took me having to be dragged off the scene to be able to actually move from my horrified state. And how was it a crime scene?

It felt like I was falling down a hole I couldn't get out of. I was stuck. Trapped. Isolated. I was constantly being stripped away from anything that made me human; from anything that was real. especially in the past couple of weeks. First Johnny, my family, Khonshu, and finally, my apartment. I didn't have family. I didn't have any friends. I was alone again. I was frightened and I was scared. How would I tell Johnny? Where would I go, what would I do? I was so scared, I felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest. I couldn't go back to Khonshu... but then I remembered Marc.

---------

it was getting dark, and it was cold. Thankfully, he didn't live that far from me, and I was able to catch a bus. He lived in a huge, two story building in the middle of a street that was surrounded by markets, bars, and stores. The doors in the building had creasent moons painted on them. I hesitated for a moment before inhaling and knocking on the door twice. For a moment, there was silence before I heard a man groaning and a loud crash. I waited another couple of seconds before a man opened the door.

" Wha'do ya want? " He said very slowly as he reached his hand under his dirty white tank top and scratched his stomach. he was wearing a brown jacket and black leather pants, and on his jacket, he had a name tag that read, " Jake. L" on it. Wait a minute...

" Oh, hey, it's you. " He said, giving me a tiny smile. He looked tired... and drunk.

" Is Marc here? " I asked, rubbing my cold arms and slightly peeping into the building. Jake yawned and then groaned.

" yeah, whatever. just give me a minute. " He said before slightly shutting the door, leaving it a little bit open. He had a very heavy New York accent. I didn't want to evesdrop, but I faintly heard two men conversating from the other end of the door.

" something, something- did it-something, something- You're a fuckin genius! " I heard someone say over-excitedly. Another person responded with, " I didn't think it would go through-something, something-" but shortly after, the door swung open, and I was greeted with Marc rushing out of the building.

" Oh jeez, what's wrong? Are you okay? I came as soon as I heard. " He asked worriedly, leaning over the door frame with wide eyes. I shook my head.

" can I come inside? " I asked, trying not to let my voice shake. He nodded his head and held the door open wider, motioning me in. The inside of the building smelled like cinnamon, and he had a fireplace near the entrance of the door, and it was lit. I wasn't quite sure what i was looking at, but it looked like an office building. Near the fireplace, there was a couch and a coffee table. Maybe it was some sort of lounge area.

" Come sit by the fireplace. you must be cold. " He said, sitting down in front of the fireplace and patting the spot next to him. I sat down, keeping a distance between us, and watched the bright orange flames of the fire dance in the fireplace, reminding me of how my apartment had gone up in flames that very same day.

" What's wrong? " He cooed, putting his hand on my shoulder for comfort.

" my apartment. it got burned down. I'm sorry for coming here, I just--didn't know where to go. " I apologized, rubbing my arms to keep myself warm.

" It's okay, don't apologize. I told you to come here if you needed me. I'm sorry I couldn't make it in time to stop the person who burnt down those buildings. Khonshu was keeping me busy all day. " he explained, looking at me the whole time he spoke. I didn't look at him. I wondered if he could notice the scars on my arms that Khonshu gave me. I wondered if he also had scars.

" I'm exhausted. I've had a horrible day. " I sighed, rubbing my temples and curling myself into a ball. I could hear Marc humming in response. I couldn't imagine how long his day must have been too.

" Johnny... my husband, he's dying. There's nothing I can do about it. I just--i don't want to be here any more. I want to go to sleep and never wake up again. " I told him, rubbing my wet eyes, and inhaling and exhaling deeply to try and contain myself. He scouted closer to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

" hey, " he said. " It's going to be okay. Things are going to get better, I promise. I have been in your exact same position before. Life isn't always going to be sunshine and rainbows. I'm sure you know that by now, but I can assure you you'll see the sun finally peak through the dark, rainy clouds. " He shook my shoulders a bit as he spoke to me, and I seemingly felt comforted. I rose my head to look up at him. I never realized just how beautiful he was until I saw him as close to me as he was in that moment.

" Gosh, I feel so dirty. It was so hard walking into that hospital, knowing I was spreading my legs for another man. " I couldn't help but go back into that same self-loathing tangent again. Marc tried to hush me quietly, but I kept talking. " I don't deserve your comfort. I don't deserve anything-- "

" Don't say that about yourself - " he tried to say, but i cut him off.

" No--I can't take it anymore. Don't even bother with me. I don't even know why I'm here. I'm wasting your time. "

Marc continued to try and hush me up, but nothing he was doing was working. Then he finally decided that if I wasn't going to shut up, he was going to make me shut up. That showed when he cut off my deppressive outburst by grabbing my head and smashing his lips against mine. It was a soft but heavy kiss, and I couldn't help not following along. He put his hand on mine, and when he pulled away, he made sure to hold on tightly to my hand.

" I am not wasting my time trying to help. You deserve comfort. Whether it's from me or anyone else, you deserve to be happy and feel like you're wanted. And you are wanted. " He reassured me, squeezing my hand and looking me deep into my eyes with a strong sense of sincerity.

" You are not filthy. Never say that about yourself again. " He made sure his words were drilled into my head, his voice strong as his grip on my hand got tighter. I nodded my head, showing him I understood until he finally let go of me.

I was feeling something in my stomach I hadn't felt in a long time. There was something in the way that Marc felt genuine to me that made me drawn to him. Something in the way he had comforted me and kissed me to try and get me to stop talking bad about myself. I wondered if he was feeling the same. We had already known each other for two days, but I was drawn to him like a magnet.

" I need salvation. " I whispered, staring back into the fire. Marc grinned.

" than I am your savior. " He said, gently grabbing my chin and guiding my face towards his. He welcomed my lips back onto his and climbed on top of me, his lips moving against mine a little bit harder than last time. He ran his hands up my thighs but stopped when he felt the scars. He pulled away to examine his discovery. He flicked his eyes up, and all I could see was pure concern in his eyes.

" I won't touch you. Not if you want me to. " He said, almost getting off me before I put my hand on his chest and stopped him.

" You can touch me. " I gave him permission, looking him in the eyes and searching for any sort of sign that might have been telling me he was lying. But all I saw was worry and honesty.

" Are you sure you want to do this? " He asked, raising a brow and tracing a finger around a part of my thigh that wasn't scarred. I nodded my head.

" go easy on me, yeah? " I said nervously with a slight chuckle. He chuckled too and nodded.

" whatever you want, honey. Tell me to stop if it ever gets too much. " He said, unbuckling his belt and sliding it out of the loops of his pants. While he was working on that, I worked on taking my clothes off as well, starting from my jeans and working my way up to my top.

For once in a while, I had actually felt excited about having sex. It wasn't something I was pressured into and it was from a man I knew I could trust. But maybe I was putting too much faith into him. Maybe I was moving too fast. I did only just meet him the night before, but I couldn't help myself.

Marc didn't finish taking off his clothes. In fact, he only took his pants off. I, on the other hand, was stripped down in front of him, completely exposed and free for him to go crazy on. He looked me up and down, his mouth agape and his eyes wide.

" Do you know how beautiful you are? Seriously, i--i don't think I'm going to be able to keep my eyes off of you. " He said, pinning me back down onto the ground and spreading my legs just far enough for him to fit perfectly between them. The sparkle in his eyes when he looked at me, the sweetness of his voice, the gentleness in his manners. Everything about him is what I had been missing, what I had been longing for for so long. I couldn't remember the last time someone had called me beautiful from a genuine faint of heart. I just had to return it.

" And did anyone ever tell you how perfect you are? Seriously, Marc, I've only known you for so long, but you're incredible. " I expressed, inflicting a wide smile to appear in his face.

" You're too sweet. But please, call me Mr. Knight. I am your savior, after all. " He chuckled darkly, obviously joking around, but I knew he was serious. I crossed my legs over his hips and welcomed him in as he slowly entered me. My breath hitched, and I could already tell that I would actually be able to take him. He kissed my forehead and curled his fingers into my scalp as he pumped slow thrusts into my aching core. He rest his free hand on my knee, his lips trailing down to the crook of my neck and kissing my skin gently.

This was the most true thing I'd probably felt in such a long time. I felt alive again, I felt happy. And I wasn't about to give that up for anything. Everything that happened in that week had completely disappeared by Marc's simple caress. He was the drug the I needed. Maybe he could be my sunshine after the rain.

We were gwtting comfortable, and he picked up his pace and lifted up my leg to rest it over his shoulder so he could deepen his thrusts.

" Fuckin' hell, you're literally so gorgeous. How could someone see this and just... Throw it away? " He praised, the sweet sounds of his cock slamming in and out of my soaked pussy mixing perfectly in the thick air surrounding our hot bodies with the sounds of our moaning. He was starting to become fast, more urgent and uncontrolled as he rammed into me, making sure that I felt every last inch of him. I felt a burning in my stomach, the familiar sensation i remember from my time with Khonshu, except this time it was more intense. Marc grunted, and was able to thrust most of his length into me. I yelped and closed my eyes tightly, gasp after gasp escaping my lips.

" Marc... Can't--can't take it all. " I choked out. He growled in response.

" That's not what I told you to call me, sweetheart. " He said, grabbing hold of my jaw and squeezing my pink cheeks as my puffy lips began foaming out droll.

" Mr...Mr. Knight " I whimpered, eyes rolling into the back of my head as i found myself getting completely getting lost within the rapture of the moment. He smirked down at me.

" Yes? " He cooed in a sweet voice that said nothing but sarcasm. I felt my pussy fluttering at the mere sound of his deep voice filling my ears.

" I, I... Can't--fuh--uck " I couldn't even finish my sentence without choking on my words and losing myself to my own moans. I sounded pathetic, and I looked pathetic. I felt his grip on my jaw getting tighter, and he growled again.

" Can't what? You're going to have to speak up, honey. " He teased further, at that point just trying to get me frustrated. And I was. I was whining in response to his playful teases and i just couldn't take it. How was he able to get me so desperate?

" I can't take it all, Mr. Knight. " I cried, digging my nails into his arm. He clicked his tongue.

" If you can't take this, than it's gonna take you a lot to soften up to me. But I'm sure you can take it. " He said, " c'mon, baby, you can do it. " He raised his hand and gave my ass a hard smack, making me yelp in surprise and the skin where he slapped redden up and sting. He was killing me.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, he started using his thumb to rub tiny, hard circles around my throbbing clit. I gasped and sunk my bottom lip in between my teeth, trying to prevent myself from moaning but desperately failing. I felt so tiny compared to him. His hand was bigger than my forearm, and that hand in between my legs mixed with his thick cock was more than a dream for me. Maybe it was exactly like how Khonshu had had me the other night, but this was heavenly. He wouldn't break me, and knowing that made me feel safe and content.

" look at you, taking me so well. What a good girl. " He praised, the sweetness in his voice authentic and promising. He was better at fulfilling my needs better than Johnny, and admitting to that hurt since i knew and was married to Johnny for two years and only knew Marc for two days. But something that didn't hurt to admit was that he was so much better than Khonshu. Khonshu would get you underneath him, spit on you and then kick you out of his house but Marc would be the opposite. Marc would understand you, take care of you for the night and then have you stay with him or him stay with you for the night. But even thinking about Johnny made me feel utterly guilty and ashamed, where was that sense of real guilt when all I could feel was Marcs warm cock thrashing every inch of bliss into me? He had me at the tip of the mountain and there was no coming down. Except for when you were actually coming down.

" Mister--oh, I'm gonna-- " I found myself, once again not being able to finish my sentence without feeling like there was a lump in my throat as pleasure engulfed me. Marc finally let go of my jaw and increased the speed of his fingers to match the fast pace of his cock. I tried to let hold back a moan, but ended up on choking out a loud cry.

" go ahead, honey. Jus' keep screaming like that. " He whispered, hitting a spot so deep within my core that sent me way beyond the edge. My legs jerked and I screamed. The faster he got, the more I moaned meaningless slurred curses. A chorus of helpless cries and whimpers came out of my hungry lips as I already felt myself spilling out fluids onto his shaft. He noticed and chortled.

" sweet baby, making a mess all over me. It's my turn now. " He purred, slipping out and then forcing me on my belly. He put one hand on my back and re-entered me, slipping back into that same spot he was hitting before. The hard wood floor against my face wasn't the greatest feeling, but I had felt worse. But even having my back forcibly bent and my face against hard wood floor, I was still at the tip of that mountain.

" I want to fucking tear you apart, honey. " He whispered into my ear, letting go of his hand on my back and using it to curl a fist back into my scalp. He pulled my head back and rutted into me inhumanly faster than before. He only lasted for a couple more thrusts before immediately exploding through a shaky orgasm.

For a minute there was silence... But not really because we were panting and severally tired. I couldn't do anything but stare at him, awestruck.

" I'm sorry. I got a little carried away. " He laughed nervously, also unable to keep his eyes off the mess between me. He sighed and pulled me into his arms, holding me close to him and brushing his fingers through my hair.

" I'll get you a towel or--you can take a bath, if you'd like. " He offered, pointing to his staircase. I nodded.

" I'd like the bath option. " I replied. he smiled.

" good choice. It's upstairs and the very first door on the left. There's also towels in the closet. " He told me, standing up and walking off somewhere down the hallway, presumably to another bathroom. It took me a moment to get up. Not because he fucking ruined me, but because I just couldn't believe what I had just done. It was what I believed to be the greatest fuck I'd ever had in my life, and I could not be any more happy or relieved. Even if it was from a man I had barely known.

---------

I sat on the outdoor couch outside, taking a drag from my cigarette as the boys started giggling again.

" She's hot. How did it feel? " Jake childishly asked, sounding like a friend you would have in grade school who'd ask you questions about your new girlfriend.

" Fuck off. You guys never shut up, do you? " The other one was even worse about it.

" c'mon, Marc. Think of the money we could make-- " I knew what was coming up. He mentioned it everytime I brought this woman up.

" I don't fucking care about making money. I may be an underpaid superhero, but I ain't even mad. " I joked even though it wasn't funny, resting my head back and huffing out a smoke ring. Jake was snickering.

" Exactly, you're broke. That's why you're never able to keep a stable relationship. " Jake cackled, snorting a line of coke on the coffee table. I raised my hand and smacked him in the back of his head, making him choke and cough profusely on the drug.

" you shut your manwhore mouth up. I'm never able to keep a stable relationship because of you cocksuckers. " I said, closing my eyes and finishing my cigarette. The other one groaned.

" you're such a whiney bastard. At least let us fuck her? " the other one suggested. I huffed angrily and extinguished my cigarette.

" I said no. Plus, I think she really likes me. Don't fuck this up for me or else I'll cut your dicks off. " I threatened as I got up and walked back into the house.

They stared at each other in silence for seconds.

" fuck that guy. I'm gonna fuck her. " the other one laughed as he also stood up. Jake dropped the straw he was using for his coke and stared at him in disbelief.

" in your dreams. " Jake mocked. But the look on the other ones face told him he was serious and ambitious." you'll never convince Marc. "

" maybe not, but i can force him to step down. "

---------

" Marc? " I called out from the peaked open door. I had just gotten out of my bath and realized I had forgotten my clothes. Thankfully, he responded quickly.

" do you need something? " He was at the stairs, but not peering into the room.

" yes. I forgot my clothes. " I told him, embarrassed. Then he looked at me and we very awkwardly locked eyes.

" I'll bring you pajamas or something. I don't want you wearing the same clothes to bed. " He said, not giving me a choice before walking past the bathroom and heading for a room further down the hallway. When he came back, he covered his eyes and handed me black shorts and a red sweatshirt he said could fit me. I got dressed quickly and he showed me to the guest bedroom. The second story to his house was weird. There were two bedrooms and for some reason, a small kitchen and an entertainment room. He told me he was running a mission under the name Mr. Knight, and I was one of the few people who had actually seen his face before.

" I'll wash your clothes for you, and you can sleep here until you're in a situation where you don't have to stay with me anymore. " he said lazily, pointing to the queen sized bed in the room. He seemed tired, exhausted even. I was also tired.

" and, uh... Goodnight. " He said, but before he could walk out of the room, I stopped him.

" Marc? Thank you. " I thanked with a smile. He quirked his eyebrows and then shut the door as he left.

For the rest of the night before I fell asleep, all I could think about was Johnny. I didn't even want to think about Khonshu, but all I could think about was how much I was truly missing Johnny. He didn't know my situation, and he was never going to know what my situation was. At least unless he ended up on surviving. But I couldn't help but think maybe somewhere else, there could be a universe where the both of us would be finally happy together. We could have a family and live far away somewhere quiet. But now, I had my eyes set a a bigger prize, a prize I wasn't even sure I truly wanted.

---------

" wake up, slut. "

I had awoken, but not in the way I expected to. I had waken to someone screaming in my ear and splashing my face with cold water. I was gasping for air and my body jerked like I was falling and I got violently pulled back against something hard and cold. I looked around and I found myself to be in an unfamiliar room, arms and feet tided behind something that felt like a pipe or pole. I couldn't move and I was have trouble adjusting to the dark room. Panic immediately rose in me, and I began frantically searching around for any signs of anything even though it was completely dark.

Then, a red light suddenly came on, illuminating the room and showing me I was in an empty basement with an unfamiliar person standing in front of me.

" oh my, you're even sexier up close. "' He chuckled. He looked like Marc a little, but something about him was different. He wore a black suit and his hair was combed to the side and flat with gel. Not only that but he had a completely different demeanor.

" I know you're wondering who I am, and It's a shame you don't know already. My name Is Steven Grant, and I think you'd be great in this new movie I'm making. "

• Chapter One: The Angle and the Martyr

-- end

~~~~

A/N:

Hello if you've made it this far, and thank you SO MUCH for reading. This is a revamped upload if the original up load of this I posted around march. I hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you think in the comments <3.I just wanted to take a moment just to talk about this for a second. Out of all of the fics I've made, this one was the hardest. A lot of inspiration, listening to a lot of nine inch nails and pulling all nighters to write drafts in a notebook were put into this fic. I've never thought out a fic as well as I did this one. None of my fics were beta read or edited, but this one was ( including a playlist that I had to match up songs with timelines in this chapter) I deleted this post about a week after I uploaded it. I thought it was cringe, and it is, but I realized it had potential. So I took my time these past two day, and went through everything I had wrote... five months ago and I added onto it. I don't like this chapter, but I like everything that comes after it, and I hope you guys will too.

But this is the darkest fic I've ever written, and it's only about to get more dark and fucked up. I feel like I got a bit lazy on my writing sometimes during this fic but I think it's fine. Only recently, I wanted to add an oc I had into this fic--and I know that sounds bad, but here me out. Hes another alter of Marcs and his name is Joseph Mills. He's a journalist and yada yada. I don't think he's going to be in this fic, but we'll see where the road takes us.

This chapter was originally going to be named Johnny and start with a poem foreshadowing the ending of this fic. I don't know how to fucking write poems and the ones I made ended up on not sounding good. This fic was originally going to be based off of Phantom of the Opera only. The stories are different but still similar. There was a Johnny but Johnny wasn't like.. fucking dying. Khonshu played the same role but the relationship between him and M/C was less abusive and less sex. Marc was supposed to be the Phantom and would talk the reader into killing people who " deserved it "but didn't know how to expand the story from that point on and I came up with 5 different alternatives for plots. This fic was supposed to be called Phantom Moon, White Knight, Black Knight or The Downward Spiral. I didn't know Black Knight was already a marvel character so I didn't chose that and White Knight just wasn't enough for me. I hated Phantom Moon after the first week of writing, and right before I published this I scrapped the Downward Spiral title because I didn't want to make it obvious this was inspired by the album TDS and wanted something original. I filled an entire 160 paged notebook with ideas and drafts or demos, whatever you want to call it, for this fic. I almost introduced Gena one time, but she sadly did not make the cut. I'm excited to release this next chapter. There will probably be 1-2 or 1-3 chapters. But that's about it. Cya.

Xo, Bullet

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