#link’s hair. he is SERVING | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ickadori · 6 months

Text

++ 𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐌𝐄/𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

[summary] uraume doesn’t like you, but sukuna has taken an interest in you, and there isn’t a thing in this world that they wouldn’t tolerate for lot sukuna, even if it is you.

[cws] fem reader. uraume hates you! they want to cook you, and mention it quite a lot -> mentions of cannibalism, but no one is actually eaten…yet. true form sukuna for the win. uraume very much has the hots for sukuna. team effort oral -> sukuna receiving. fingering -> reader receiving. threesome.

[an] inspired by this -> link. sosososososos happy this was planted in my head m going insane actually.

Uraume hates you, indubitably.

You were a human, a sturdy one to be able to withstand Sukuna’s affection, but a human nonetheless. While their views on humans weren’t as grandiose as the likes of Geto, they still deemed them as beneath them, and anyone beneath Uraume had no business being in the presence of Sukuna, and yet you had been kept around.

They hadn’t known what Sukuna wanted with you at first — they had originally intended to cook you into a meal fitting for their king. You had plenty meat on you, and the king was often… hoggish when it came to his appetite, so you would have done a good job in being a filling meal, the only things humans were good for in Uraume’s eyes.

Sukuna had nearly beheaded them the moment a knife had been pointed in your direction. For whatever reason, you were special. It baffled them, entirely, completely, it still does. They had spent so much time watching you, observing all the things you did; the way you walked, the way your eyes nervously flitted about, never venturing past someone’s collar bones, the way you brushed your hair, the way fed yourself, how your fingers held the fork and knife (quite clumsily, may they add. You were clearly due for a lesson in etiquette.), how you tried and failed to properly tie your kimono, forcing them to fix it for you lest you both be on the receiving end of Sukuna’s wrath. Appearance is everything, didn’t you know that?

Speaking of appearances… you were pleasant enough to look at, but Sukuna had an endless sea of pleasant faces to pick from, ones that came with a bit of training, so what had drawn him to you specifically?

They couldn’t put their finger on it, and they guessed that it ultimately didn’t matter. You made their master happy, and they could tolerate you until you inevitably landed in his bad graces, and then they’d serve you up to him on a silver platter.

On the day that Sukuna had angrily called for them, they had thought you had finally done it, and had quickly come to his call with a pep in their step and a glint in their eye.

Uraume didn’t find extreme amounts of pleasure in killing others, it was simply a part of their job, but they can’t deny that the thought of being rid of you elicited a response similar to ones they got whenever Sukuna bestowed his praise unto them, something that hadn’t happened since you had wormed your way into their kingdom.

Yes, as humans say, Uraume was jealous. They were envious of the attention Sukuna gave you—and you were so greedy. You took it all and held onto it with an iron fist, scared out of your wits that he’d grow bored of you if you loosened your grip even the slightest bit, because then you’d be up for the pickings.

When Uraume finally made it to Sukuna’s quarters, the sight they were greeted with wasn’t a foreign one. He was sat on the bed, kimono pooled around him, while you kneeled between his legs, your own clothing nowhere in sight. His cocks were hard and twitching, fat dollops of pre-cum sliding down the shafts, coupled with the remnants of your saliva, or perhaps your slick.

So you had failed to please him, as many often did. One cock of that size was too much for most to handle, let alone two, and you were human, after all.

“Lord Sukuna.” Uraume drops into a deep bow, their head touching the cool floor and staying until they’re given permission to stand. “How can I assist you?” Would Sukuna have them dice you up and turn you into a nice stew? Or perhaps he’d like something a little more raw… Human meat and muscle tended to be tough and dry, if not properly prepared, but Uraume had done this for centuries, and was kept around for a reason.

They’d make you into a meal worthy of being consumed by—

“Train her on how to take me.”

Pardon?

“You.. don’t wish for me to dispose of her?” That fiery flame flickers in his eyes, and Uraume rushes out a thousand apologies, hand placed over their heart as they lower their gaze. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, my Lord. I shall do as you ask.”

This task has never before been requested of them, and they find themself at a momentary loss as they lower themself to kneel beside you, eyes scrutinizing you while you avoid their gaze. They quickly gain their bearings.

“Do I have permission to touch her, my Lord?”

“You do.”

“Open your mouth.” You look to Sukuna for confirmation, and Uraume bristles. As if you’re so high above them that you don’t immediately do as they say, tuh. With a nod from Sukuna, you’re hesitantly opening your mouth, and they insert two fingers, the pads of them pressing down on your tongue. They ignore the way that you gag and tears spring to your eyes, your clenched fists shaking on your bare thighs.

They push their fingers in deeper, making you violently gag as your throat constricts and you quickly jerk your head back. “I see what the problem is.” Their fingers are slick with your saliva, and they just barely resist the urge to wipe it clean on their clothing, figuring that Sukuna would take it as an insult. “You’re not relaxing your throat and jaw when you take him - allow me to demonstrate.”

Uraume turns to Sukuna, a flutter in their stomach as they direct a question his way. “Permission to pleasure you, my Lord?”

“Do as you please.”

They fall into habit easily enough - hands bracing against the thick meat of his thighs, tongue swiping out to wet their lips before moving to trail up the underside of his cock before placing a wet, gentle kiss on the head, quickly giving the other the same treatment. His scent is heady, strong, and Uraume breathes him in deep before their lips are wrapping around the dark, uncut tip, jaw and throat relaxing as they take him all the way in, nose pushed into a set of wiry curls.

Uraume cuts their eyes at you, lips stretched wide around the cock in their mouth, and find that you’re watching with apt interest, thighs not so subtly rubbing together as rock back onto your heel that’s positioned underneath you.

Greedy — putting your own pleasure before Sukuna’s. It’s unacceptable, and they rectify it with a swift snatch of your hair. You’re pushed towards his neglected cock, and you’re given a moment to prepare before it’s pushed into your mouth, Uraume’s hand on the back of your neck forcing you to take him all in.

You choke and gag, the action bringing forth a deep, guttural groan from Sukuna, and Uraume watches as he brings a hand down to grip your hair at the roots, his other holding the side of your face. Uraume’s nails bite into your skin before they can stop it, and you cry out as best you can, hands pushing at Sukuna’s stomach as your tears flow freely.

You’re flailing now, and Uraume has half a mind to let you fail again, not caring if they’re on the chopping block as well, but Sukuna comes before everyone else, first and foremost.

They pull their mouth off of his cock with a wet sound, strings of saliva and pre-cum stretching from their lips to the dribbling tip, and quickly lick it away as they place their hand around your throat, right where they can see the bulge formed. “You have to calm down.” Their thumb gently rubs against your skin, voice low and as soothing as it can get as their free hand smooths down the expanse of your back and over the curve of your ass. “Breathe through your nose - yes, just like that.”

Their fingers find your cunt, wet and plump, and two easily slip inside, walls eagerly sucking them in. “Move your tongue against him, he likes it.” You make a noise of complaint, and they tighten the hand around your throat. “You now live to please him, so please him. Move your tongue or I’ll—” A violent shiver wracks their body as Sukuna’s energy spikes, and Uraume softens their voice again, fingers twisting and rubbing as they search for that special spot that always renders the most skittish, stiff women into malleable, pliant dolls.

You finally do as they say, judging by Sukuna’s reaction, and Uraume keeps up their ministrations on your cunt, fingers plunging in and out, resulting in a lewd squelch, the sound barely audible over the way you occasionally gag and moan. Their gaze trails over to Sukuna’s neglected cock, and deciding that you’re doing a decent enough job now, they move to take him back into their mouth, fingers still moving inside you.

With your previous resistance gone, Sukuna takes it upon himself to move you back and forth on his cock, veins on the back of his hand bulging as he ruts into your mouth. Uraume does well enough on their own to be exempt from the treatment, head bobbing and hand fondling at heavy, full sacs as they suck, tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft, even occasionally mushing against his tip and pushing into the slit there.

Knowing him as well as they do, Uraume knows that Sukuna will come soon, and they suck in earnest, messily slurping and swallowing as his thighs tense under their touch. You suddenly tighten around their fingers, and a glance to the side shows your lashes fluttering, your jaw slack as Sukuna pulls out of your mouth, only to push right back in and bury himself to the hilt. Uraume does the same, welcoming the spurts of cum that trail down their throat as they eagerly swallow.

Your name is on Sukuna’s tongue as he pulls out of your mouth, and Uraume watches in distaste as you cough and splutter, wasting the cum that he had so graciously shared with you, and they find themselves leaning forward before they can help themself.

Their lips collide with yours, tongue licking into your mouth as they collect the remnants of cum inside, and they ignore the way you arch into them and grab ahold of their haori, fully focused on getting every drop they can. With a gentle suck of your tongue they finally pull away, and they blink at the way you follow them, eyes lidded and hazy as you try to go for another kiss.

They let you, not wanting to incur Sukuna’s anger for denying you, and you messily kiss them, although it’s more of a mash of lips and teeth as you moan against them and pant into their mouth.

Sukuna laughs, and a warmth spreads throughout Uraume when one of four hands comes to rest atop their head. “It seems as though you’ve gained her affection - you should be honored.” Hardly.

Sukuna hauls you up into his lap, and Uraume thinks their presence is no longer needed and begins to stand, only for the hand on their head to tangle in their hair and force them to their feet. “You’re not done yet.”

Confusion swims in their eyes, but it’s quickly sated when they see that Sukuna is ready to go again, one of his cocks nestled between your folds as you pathetically hump against it, hands grasping at his shoulders as you tip your head back, moans and cries bouncing off the walls. “As you can see, she’s quite greedy.” His hand roughly gropes at your ass, and he lifts you with little effort before placing you back down on his cock. He only gets the tip in before you’re gasping and clawing at his shoulders, head fruitlessly shaking back and forth as you babble out nonsensical words. “And inexperienced. I trust that you can fix this.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

#sukuna x reader #uraume x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #uraume x sukuna

2K notes · View notes

tojipie · 1 year

Text

prison bf series linked here !

hii ! not rly phone sex, but sex nonetheless. i’m rly loving this series <33 prison toji unboxing fic coming someday in the distant future.

content: nsfw + phone sex

──────────────────────

the sudden vibrations of your phone’s ringer rips you from the boundary between sleep and awareness. you groggily reach for the device from it’s place under your pillow, clicking the off button twice to end the call.

the number rings again, then a third time before you finally pick up, ready to tear into the poor soul on the other line. it’s a facetime call from an area code you don’t recognize, probably just a misdial if you’re lucky.

you hesitantly accept and tilt the camera towards the ceiling, shielding your face from the stranger.

“hello..?” you mumble sleepily, trying to get a good look at your phone without revealing too much of yourself. the person’s screen is grainy from the lack of light, probably calling you on an older model.

the stranger’s camera pans down, revealing familiar tufts of straight raven hair. toji stares up at you from his bunk, shirtless with the sheets bunched up to his chest.

“you too good to pick up the phone now?” he asks, clearly teasing. the inmate’s voice is quiet, coming out in choppy rivets as his dated microphone picks up what it can.

“toji!?” you whisper scream, sitting up to turn your beside lamp on. the additional light helps illuminate your figure better, you notice his eyes perk up at the clearer sight of you.

“mmmh, happy to see you babydoll.” he grins, leaning closer to get a good look at you. your eyes are puffy with the promise of rest, giving you that extra bought of softness he loves so much.

“oh shit, were you sleeping? m’ sorry.”

he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“nono i’m awake.” you reassure the older man, taking in the sight of him laid out on the narrow cot. your boyfriend had aged since the beginning of his sentence, though you figure that’s not out of the ordinary for someone serving time. “how’d you even get a phone?”

“s’ a secret.” he muses, clearly finding the situation amusing. “i get to talk to my baby though, isn’t that nice?” he states plainly, shifting to prop his head up with his hand.

“it is, actually.” you mumble apologetically, feeling bad at your initial lack of a greeting. “m’ happy you called me.”

you pause, choosing your next words carefully “don’t you have bunkmates?” you wonder, searching the background for any signs of other men in the dark cell. the promise of being ratted out by a cell mate was one that wouldn’t end well for either of you.

“nah, lawyers said i’m too dangerous to be staying in D-block with everyone.” he states boredly, shifting again to lie on his back with a grunt.

“wh— are you serious?” you whine, already mulling over the countless conversations you’ve had with him regarding his nasty fighting habit.

“pfttt, no?” the inmate chuckles, throwing his head back with a hearty laugh. “last guy in the cell got out on wednesday, ‘s just me in here till’ my sentence is up.”

he stills, looking you up and down quickly.

"fuck." he grumbles, you look real pretty right now."

you sigh in relief, ignoring the compliment to continue grilling him. “so you’ve been getting along with people?” you ask, skill skeptical.

“you know—hah- how i am.” he tells you, clearing his throat before continuing. the screen begins to wobble a little, blurring his figure for a moment. “when have i —fuck- ever been out of line, huh? ”

“i think you were pretty out of line when you went to fucking jail.” you tease, pausing to analyze his hurried breaths on the other line.

“toji? do you feel ok?” you ask, wishing you were there to check up on him.

“yeah—mmgh- why? his camera starts to pan up shakily, phone slipping from his hand. the last of his facade shatters as a pleased groan rings out in the tiny cell.

“fuck.” he whines, “fuck— oh my god. you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”

“show me.” you command, finally piecing everything together.

the older man flips the camera and brings it right up to his hard cock, stroking it from the base up with vigor.

his tip is an angry pink, weeping milky precum down his shaft to glaze his knuckles. the sounds coming from your phone are absolutely filthy, a hot mix of pants, groans and expletives .

“oh my god.” you giggle, propping your phone up to watch better. “is that all for me?” the dips and hills of his abs jolt as he laughs.

“all for you.” he pants, bucking his hips up every time his fist meets his tip.

“is this why you called me?” you tease, watching his cock bob back and forth in his hand. the older man stops to thumb his slit, massaging milky pre into the tip before starting up again. “you just wanted to get off? didn’t wanna talk to me or nothing?”

“no—hah. i mean—.” he groans, clearly too out of it to answer. “fuck. fuck i’m close.”

you squeeze your legs together to quell the ache between your thighs, content to just watch him enjoy himself.

sharing a room with 4 other people means little to no time alone, that much you knew from your visits. it wasn’t rare for him to pitch a tent during your supervised phone calls, squeezing his cock behind a glass barrier while you gushed about your day.

a hearty groan knocks your train of thought loose as ropes of cum stream down his knuckles and onto the sheets. you watch in awe as he milks his dick, slapping it onto his stomach for the added simulation.

you wait until his breaths even out to speak, watching him grab a towel from off camera to clean himself up.

“feel better?” you ask, so badly wishing you were there to kiss him in the midst of his afterglow.

“so much better.” he sighs, shifting to lay on his side again.

“they definitely heard you. i mean those rooms don’t have doors right?”

“of course they fucking have doors.” he grumbles, clearly embarrassed at the thought of getting caught dick-in-hand.

“did you..” he trails off, rubbing his eyes with a soft yawn.

“too tired.” you state plainly, shifting the focus from your pleasure to his.

“i don’t deserve you.” he mumbles, dark eyes barely open.

“course you do baby.” you whisper. “you wanna head to bed? i’m coming up on thursday to visit.”

“you are?” the excitement in his voice is adorable.

“mhm, might even bring you a charger for that piece of shit burner you swiped.”

the jab earns you a booming laugh, lulling you back to the precipice of sleep.

────────────────────────

tag list ! <3 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa

6K notes · View notes

yawnderu · 7 months

Text

Currently obsessed with dbf!Keegan... like just imagine the scary dog privileges that come with having this man around. He doesn't even wear the balaclava or eyeblack when he's out, but just his creepy ass 🔵🔵 eyes are enough to scare off anyone who even looks your way. Like okay, we see them son. You can blink now.

And don't even get me started on how annoying this man would be. Pulling your hair to annoy you, flipping you off, pushing you out of the way and looking over his shoulder with the most annoying shit-eating grin that makes you want to actually punch him dead in the windpipe. Not to mention he'd totally see you struggling to open a jar and go "allow me" just to tighten it up more.

Absolute nightmare driver. He may take you out everywhere, but no one is an atheist when Keegan is driving and you really want to tell him, but he always keeps his gun on him.💀

BUT despite all the banter, his protective instincts kick in super easily with you. Someone is mean mugging you? He's glaring back. Someone says anything mean to you? He'll deal with it. God help any man who tries to flirt with you or catcalls you. He teaches you how to defend yourself since he won't always be there to protect you, often deployed in missions. I can also see him teaching you how to shoot a gun, just in case you ever need to. He takes you to a random field and teaches you the basics, and once you're confident enough, maybe he even takes you hunting.

I can see the dad being a disabled veteran who served with Keegan(?) simply happy to have some help with you, knowing Keegan can take you places and do things he can't do anymore. Despite you being an adult, I'm a sucker for father-daughter fluff, so the dad has def cried in secret whenever you show him new things you learnt or show him pictures of places Keegan took you to. Of course, he's not excluded, always hosting dinners and BBQs in the house whenever Keegan is back, and trying to join both of you if possible.

Keegan is like an annoying older brother, the type of man who makes you believe murder should be legal, yet you still deeply care for. He doesn't keep any things on him that may be linked to your father or you in fears of him being a ghost putting you in danger, but he has a bunch of polaroids in a safe in his house, which he looks at whenever he's off base and feeling down.

Speaking of pictures, you totally forced him to get into a photo booth with you and he now keeps the fucking ugliest pictures ever, threatening to ask a ghost to hack into your account and post them whenever you're being too annoying.

IF things ever go further between both of you, you can count on this man to slonk your shit silly style like sloppy swag. This man has a lot of pent-up frustration, which he only takes out on you after making sure you're okay with it.

He's a bully. Stops thrusting when you're feeling good just to hear you whine, thrusting painfully slow until you're begging for more.

There's definitely guilt when it comes to being intimate with you, despite you being in your mid-20s, you're the daughter of his best friend. It feels wrong, so he makes up for it by treating you extra good. You got spoiled before, but now? Prepare for the most extra and expensive gifts you never even thought about. He earns good money, and has plenty of savings just in case. He's still annoying, though.

#cod ghosts x reader #cod ghosts #call of duty ghosts #keegan russ #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan x reader #keegan smut #keegan cod #keegan russ smut #keegan p russ x reader

1K notes · View notes

nickfowlerrr · 8 months

Text

everybody talks

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, a bit of angst. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. nipple play. if i’m missing something that needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: almost 7.7k

notes: happy halloween 👻 so i had an idea for reclusive neighbor!bucky meeting reader when she stops by his house with a group of kids for trick or treating, and this is very much not that but i think it still works lol. also, i wrote this in a day? i don’t think i’ve ever written more than like 4k in a day before so, yay me!

i wanted to participate in @witchywithwhiskey’s horror movie hoe-a-thon but i decided so last minute and then thought the deadline was the 31st, but i absolutely read the guidelines wrong bc it was actually yesterday and i missed it lol. i’m linking her event still though bc i did use a quote prompt! 🖤

The loud shaking of the wobbly cart you grabbed in your hurry precedes you as you make your way through the ridiculously crowded grocery store. Normally you would have been mortified - probably would have left the cart and ventured off to grab what you needed sans basket - but you don’t have the time to be concerned about the looks you’re getting as you walk fast down the aisles.

When your sister asked you for help organizing a family halloween party, you didn’t realize she meant an actual little community family friendly party for the street she lived on.

You had gotten two frozen pizzas, a bag of candy, a case of soda, and some random bags of chips you were sure your nieces would love, just last night. That would have certainly been enough for you, your nieces, and both your sisters, but unfortunately, that wasn’t where the guest list ended.

The look on her face when you showed up to her house with just those few things would have been funny if she wasn’t already on the brink of a breakdown.

Her husband was out of town for work and she was doing all the halloween prep for Sid herself, thus why she enlisted your help with the party and your younger sister’s help for the trick or treating plans.

Before she could snap and completely lose her cool on you, you were already rushing to the front door, keys still in hand, promising you’d be back within the hour and she had nothing to worry about.

That’s how you found yourself among the crowd of the woefully unprepared this afternoon.

You loaded the cart with six more frozen pizzas, three family servings of the deli’s hot and ready fried chicken, two packs of halloween cupcakes, two more cases of soda, an extra case of water, and three boxes of capri suns before you started filling the cart with the halloween party snacks you found in the holiday section.

You were getting a workout as you pushed the basket, less shaky now thanks to the added weight, heading to the candy section to grab a few bags of whatever they had left.

You were distracted by the end cap display as you turned down the aisle and didn’t see the man standing right in front of you, accidentally running into him. Though, running into him sounds like an exaggeration. With how heavy your basket was, and how sturdy the man before you was, it was more like a bump - a love tap. He didn’t even really react to it aside from looking over briefly to you and your basket.

Even still, you apologized profusely, rambling an apology about not looking where you were going before you finally got an actual look at your victim.

Your words stopped almost abruptly when your eyes met with crystal blues. His stare was icy, but not cold, moreso piercing.

He blinked and broke your trance, offering you a shy smile before he looked away.

“It’s okay, you’re fine,” he said, eyes fixed back on the shelves of candy.

He was dressed in dark denim jeans and a black crewneck sweatshirt, his hair was dark and down to just above his broad shoulders, and the stubble that lined his strong jaw suited him well. You didn’t realize you were staring again until he looked back up at you.

You forced yourself to smile then, ignoring the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and rising to your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you offered with a nervous laugh before you forced the cart behind where he stood to go onward.

You could have sworn you saw a blush rising to his cheeks as he smiled to himself, avoiding your gaze, but you weren’t entirely sure.

And you definitely didn’t have the time to ponder on it.

Instead, you began your own search of the shelves to find not only your nieces’ favorites, but your sisters’, too.

They were both working hard to make their kids’ halloween a good one, they deserved a little treat themselves when all the work was done. You, on the other hand, still single and child free, were planning on treating yourself all night. You were there to help, sure, but most of the work wouldn’t be done by you. You were looking forward to seeing them off to trick or treat and plopping down on your sister’s couch to watch movies for the rest of the night - handing out candy, of course, should any kids come by.

Once the party was set up and over, you’d be free for the night and you couldn’t wait.

You were lucky to find most of what you were looking for, but couldn’t seem to find the last kind of chocolates you wanted to get.

As your eyes scoured the shelves, you found yourself looking back over to where the handsome stranger still stood. His brows were furrowed as he held up two boxes of full size candy bars, seeming to be debating between the two.

The look of concentration on his face was endearing, you could almost chuckle at how serious in thought he seemed to be over candy.

You smiled to yourself, returning to your search. As your eyes left the man, traveling instead to the rows of candy in front of him, that was when you saw the bag you needed. In the section right where he was standing, because of course they’d be there.

He huffed in exasperation before you watched him drop both boxes of candy into his cart. He turned to head down the aisle in your direction and his eyes widened slightly when he saw you still standing there.

“Oh, sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I.”

“No, you’re fine!” You assured him as you left your basket, walking closer to him. “I just needed to grab this,” you said, looking up with the bag in hand. He hadn’t moved from where he stood as you approached, so you were inadvertently in his personal space - but he didn’t make any attempt to move from you. In fact, he looked almost frozen.

His bright eyes were on you, one hand on his cart, the other clenched by his side. He seemed to go a bit ridge at your proximity, like he didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but he relaxed after a second after seeing your soft smile, blinking at you as his cheeks burned.

You quickly backed away, hoping to not make him more uncomfortable and to not embarrass yourself further.

You grabbed onto your cart and looked his way once more, meeting his eye again as his sights were already on you.

You smiled shyly, “Sorry, again, for hitting you,” you offered, “happy halloween.”

He didn’t respond verbally, but he did give you a small nod of acknowledgement.

Your smile grew tighter before you turned and made for the check out, sighing as you rolled your eyes at yourself, mentally chastising yourself for being such an awkward inducing mess.

The lines were long and as you waited, you had to field a call from your sister, promising her you were checking out and would be back at her house soon.

You finally got through the line and were on your way out the sliding door when your cart almost crashed into another. You gasped as you pulled at your cart to stop, the heavy weight carrying it forward, its momentum causing it to almost ram right into the cart beside it.

The doors were only big enough for one cart to go through at a time, so you looked up to offer whoever it was you almost crashed into the lead.

It was your turn for your eyes to widen as you once again were met with those piercing blues.

“I am so sorry, I’m not doing this on purpose, I swear,” you laughed nervously, backing up a bit so he’d have room to go through the doors. “Go for it,” you said.

He shook his head, “Please,” he gestured for you to go in front, “ladies first.”

Had you not been in a hurry, you would’ve argued that he should go ahead, but seeing as your phone was lighting up with messages from your erratic sister, you smiled and pushed on forward. “Thank you,” you breathed.

You were trying not to pay attention as he followed behind you, but when you got to your car, halting your basket at your trunk, you couldn’t help but notice as he stopped next to you.

You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. He smiled this time, popping his trunk, “What are the odds?”

You tittered, not knowing how to respond. You couldn’t help your smile though as you turned back to your trunk and started putting the bags in.

He himself didn’t have much in the way of bags, and was finished putting his stuff away and taking his cart back by the time you were halfway done putting your stuff in your car.

You saw as he approached his door from your peripheral, and looked up and over in his direction as he abruptly stopped just before he was about to pull open his door.

For a second, he looked like he was about to turn around but then thought better of it, reaching for the door handle again before pulling away once more.

He squeezed his car keys in his hand before he turned back around, completely this time. You blinked at him, in a bit of a stupor as he came up to you. You waited for him to speak as he opened his mouth before quickly shutting it, taking a breath, then anxiously licking his lips.

“I’m Bucky,” he introduced himself a bit stiffly before his lip quirked up in a nervous half smile. Your brows raised of their own volition before you gave him your name in turn.

He seemed to be relieved by your reply, as if he was worried you would have ignored him, before he took another step closer to your car. “Can I give you a hand?”

“Oh, uhm, sure. That’d be great, thanks.”

“Big plans for the night?” he asked as he slid the packs of soda and the water into the car.

“My sister is hosting a little halloween party for the families on her street before they head out trick or treating tonight, I’m helping her out with setup and food. But after that,” you sighed, putting a few more bags in, “I’m planning on just watching movies between trick or treaters. Nothing crazy. You?” you asked, looking over to him.

“I’m planning pretty much the same. I don’t know how many trick or treaters to expect, I’m new to the neighborhood and… maybe haven’t been the friendliest neighbor,” he cringed to himself as he grabbed the boxes of juice. “But I got the full size candy bars, so…”

“Sprung for the full size, huh? I’m sure those kids’ll love it. You’ll be the talk of the block,” you joked.

His chuckle had you smiling so hard you had to bite your lip to keep from looking like an idiot.

Bucky took the last of the bags from you and set them carefully down before he closed the trunk for you. You were hanging onto the cart, waiting to say bye before you walked it to its home, as he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets before he spoke. He had that anxious look on his face again, his eyes down at the ground while he licked his lips mindlessly before he met your eye.

“I, uhm,” he seemed to register where his hands were then and took them out of his pockets, “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, but, did you maybe, want to exchange numbers?” he asked, bright blue eyes bearing into yours.

Your lips parted unbidden, eyebrows raising in surprise, or more like shock, as your eyes widened.

“You- you want my number?” you asked stupidly. You didn’t give him a chance to answer though before you continued, “Uhm, yeah,” you nodded, “sure.”

The delicate smile on your lips grew as you reached for your phone.

You exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes before you were finally headed back to your sister’s place.

You were smiling like a fool as you drove, a sense of giddy taking over you. This kind of stuff never happened to you. You were still in a bit of disbelief as you pulled into your sister’s driveway, calling her to help you unload but deciding against telling her about your little grocery store meet cute. At least until the party was underway and her stress levels came down.

—

Grumpy.

That’s the word you would use to describe your current state.

This was not how tonight was supposed to go. You should be lounging on a couch watching scary movies with a bowl full of candy right now, not clopping down the street in your wedges - a last minute costume thrown together as your niece held your hand and pulled you along with her while your sisters and baby niece strolled behind.

Sidney had thrown a fit when she learned you wouldn’t be coming along for trick or treating and only calmed down when you finally relented and agreed. But of course, you couldn’t just go out in what you were already wearing, no, that would be too easy. You absolutely needed a costume.

At your sisters’ and niece’s goading, you were forced to put something together.

You were already in all black, so you snagged the leftover cat ear headband your sister had and made your already done eye look a little more exaggerated. You all left soon after, your niece’s jubilance as she skipped out of the house easing your annoyance at the change of plans. As you started down the driveway, you were cursing yourself for not having brought your sneakers, and your sisters for both having smaller feet than you.

You walked up to house after house with your niece, taking turns switching who was going up to the door every two or three houses. In between houses, you finally told your sisters about the guy you met at the store earlier, how attractive he was, how he helped you load your car, and how he asked for your number before you went your separate ways.

It was nice to be able to talk with them about it, it had been a long time since it had been just the three of you together - no obnoxious boyfriends or overly talkative husbands to interrupt your conversations. You had to say, you were starting to feel a bit more grateful for your niece’s insistence on you joining them.

As you talked to your little sister while she held her daughter, you both watched as your niece tugged on her mom’s hand, refusing to go up the pathway of the house you were now at. As you looked around, you realized everyone else seemed to be avoiding the house, too. You weren’t sure why, though. The porch light was on and there was a cute, though solitary, ghost decoration that would greet you as you walked up the path to the house.

“What is up with that?” you asked aloud.

As your older sister walked back over, she answered your question. “She doesn’t wanna go, she says it’s haunted.”

You fixed your niece with a look, “What do you mean haunted? Who told you that?”

“Evan and Fifi. They said the metal man lives here and he kills anyone who tries to come in.”

“The metal man, huh? Well,” you said, making a point of looking all around the front of the house, “it looks to me like whoever lives here is ready to pass out candy to anyone brave enough to knock. The lights are on, and did you see the ghost up front? They’re probably just as excited about Halloween as you are.”

“No.” she responded flatly.

“No?” you scoffed. “Ohhh, okay,” you exaggerated, “I get it, you’re too scared to go. That’s all you had to say, Sid, no shame.”

“I’m not scared,” she argued, her face scrunched in annoyance at your insult.

“Really? If you’re not scared then why won’t you go knock on the door?”

She floundered for a second before she narrowed her gaze at you. You wanted to laugh at the low growl that radiated from her but held it together.

“We’ll all go,” she finally decided, looking all three of you in the eyes to make sure you were all ready to accompany her.

—

It had been two hours since the trick or treaters had started their nights.

Bucky could hear the laughter and screams of playful fright as family after family and group after group of friends passed by his house.

The bowl of king size candy bars sat on his coffee table untouched as It played on his screen.

Every now and again he’d get up and look out the kitchen window, hoping to see a dead street to make himself feel better about the lack of trick or treaters, but only found the streets full of people.

The more time that passed without a single knock or ringing of his bell, the worse he felt.

He could lie and say he didn’t know why he was taking this so hard, he wasn’t one to complain about his solitude, but truthfully, he knew why.

He had heard the neighbor kids talking about him the other week, telling tales of horror about the metal man who lived next door. If seeing his arm was all it took to spur their tales and ignite their fear of him, God, he didn’t even want to know what would come if they found out even a little bit of his past.

And if it wasn’t the kids starting their own urban legend at his expense, it was the adults who would gossip about him at their backyard barbecues. The mysterious man who lived alone and kept to himself was an easy target for lowly neighborhood gossip, and the few people who had pieced together who he was seemed to be tight lipped about it. Anytime they saw him in public, their eyes would bug and they would quickly avert their gaze, like they were scared what would happen if he knew they knew. It’s not like his identity was a secret, but he wasn’t planning on striking up a conversation with them to let them know that. Especially not when they looked at him like that. Like he was some kind of monster.

Even still, he didn’t want to be the social pariah on the block. He hated to think that anyone was scared or weary of him, though he knew most of them were.

He sighed heavily as he checked the time once again.

So much for that ghost helping to dispel his bad reputation. He’d be requesting the money he spent on it from Sam later, it was his idea for him to get halloween decorations in the first place. He should have known it wouldn’t have helped.

As his phone unlocked with his FaceID, he was tempted to send a message to the woman he’d met earlier in the day. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he hadn’t felt so disarmed by someone in a very long time. And the fact that she was gorgeous, and didn’t seem the least bit frightened by him, was a nice feeling, too.

But she was probably watching movies and relaxing by now, he didn’t want to be a disturbance. Tomorrow, though. He’d definitely be messaging her tomorrow.

Another sigh left him as he locked his phone again, tossing it on the coffee table before making his decision.

Bucky paused the movie before he stood, bowl in hand, prepared to take it to the kitchen and shut his porch light off on his way upstairs. It was only gonna get later and he had to accept that no one was going to trick or treat at his house this year.

But just as he was setting the bowl down on the table, he froze.

Was someone actually coming up the porch?

He swore he was just hearing things…but then came a knock.

—

“You can’t just stand there, Sid, you have to knock or ring the bell, pick one.”

“No.”

“Ugh,” you exaggerated with an eye roll, turning to look at your older sister, “you live with this everyday?”

“Everyday,” she replied.

“Sid, if you don’t knock, you don’t get candy,” you told her.

“If I don’t knock, I don’t get murdered.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll do it myself,” you shrugged, adjusting the cat ears on your head.

You raised your arm to knock on the door, but Sid stopped you, pulling it back down.

“I don’t want you to get murdered, either!”

“Sidney,” you laughed, kneeling to get on her level, “I promise you, no one is going to get murdered. This house isn’t haunted and a murderer doesn’t live here.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” your little sister chimed in, earning a glare from you before you couldn’t help your laugh, shaking your head before turning back to your niece.

“I just met Evan and Fifi at the party, and I know for a fact they were just trying to scare all of you guys. I doubt they’ve ever met whoever it is that lives here. Now, do you trust me?”

Her reluctant nod was your answer.

“Okay. Then I’m gonna knock on the door, and we’re gonna get some candy. Cool?”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” you nodded with a smile before standing back up.

Sid inched back to stand in front of her mom, pulling her arm to hide herself behind as you once again went to knock on the door, this time following through.

You knocked and heard footsteps from within, smiling as you waited for the homeowner to open the door.

Once it opened, though, you found yourself completely taken aback.

Your breath caught in your throat as a newly familiar pair of brilliant blue eyes met yours.

Bucky stood at the open door, bowl of full size candy bars in hand. He looked just as surprised to see you there as you were him.

He tilted his head at you, a lopsided grin spreading on his face.

“Trick or treat!” Sidney yelled, seeing the big bars and coming to stand in front of you.

Bucky looked down, smiling as he showed her the bowl, “Happy Halloween,” he said, allowing her to pick which one she wanted.

“I know how this looks, but I swear I’m not stalking you,” you promised.

“I don’t know, it seems like a lotta coincidences for just one day,” he smirked, cooly leaning against his door frame. “Nice costume,” he complimented.

“Ha, thanks,” you smiled, touching the cat ears once again. “Nice ghost,” you nodded toward the lonely decoration, “Really livens up the place,” you teased.

“That was the intention,” he laughed, a little too glumly for your liking. “You guys are actually the first trick or treaters I’ve had all night, so I guess it didn’t really do its job.”

“Sorry, you guys know each other?” your sister asked.

“Yeah, uh,” you turned briefly, “this is Bucky,” you said.

“Bucky from the grocery store, Bucky?” your little sister asked.

You gave her a look you hoped Bucky didn’t see before answering, “Yes. That Bucky.”

Your sisters introduced themselves to him and as he switched the candy bowl from his right hand to his left, extending his palm to shake their hands, you noticed a glimmer coming from his left side.

You moved over a bit to allow them room to shake hands and as you looked closer, you realized that, peculiarly enough, his left hand wasn’t made of flesh.

You scoffed a laugh to yourself at his “metal man” moniker. That made some sense now… In fact, a few things were clicking into place. Bucky, you thought…Bucky Barnes? The Bucky Barnes. You wondered how you hadn’t noticed earlier, not that it mattered, but you were staring, like kind of a lot, at him when you met at the store, and even when he was helping load your groceries. You really must have been distracted by just how gorgeous his face is.

Now that you were really looking at him again, you noticed just how built he was. Strong arms, solid chest, nearly six foot tall if you had to guess.

Your sister’s laugh brought you back to reality as you followed her gaze to Sid who was now taking a bunch of bars from Bucky’s bowl as he held it out for her again.

“I doubt anyone is coming my way again, so please, take what you want,” he offered to all of you.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you smiled as your sisters each took a bar of their own. “We’ll uh, let you get back to your movie,” you said, remembering his plans for tonight.

“The movie, yeah. I think I might have to start it over, actually. I went on my phone for a minute and looked up to see a blood covered bathroom but I have no idea how they got there,” he huffed a laugh at himself.

“Oh, what are you watching?” your little sister asked.

“It,”

“It? No way, that’s so funny. That’s the movie you were gonna watch before we left tonight, isn’t it?” your older sister asked knowingly, a smirk no one but you and your younger sister would ever catch flashing for a microsecond on her lips as she looked at you pointedly.

“Yeah,” you swallowed thickly, “it is,” you said, trying not to let the awkwardness that was eating at you consume you entirely.

“You should stay and watch it,” your little sister suggested, to your complete and utter mortification. Your eyes shot over to her, and you swear, if looks could kill.

“I’m not just going to invite myself-”

“Come on, like he minds,” she turned to look at Bucky then, her hands still on her stroller holding her baby, “you don’t mind, do you?”

You peek over at Bucky, unsure of how you would even react if you were in his position. He met your eye and his lips quirked in a soft smile. “Not at all. If you wanted to, that is,” he added, offering you an out.

You looked at him a moment before looking over to your smugly smiling sisters and your niece as she tore into one of her candy bars, standing safely between the two of them. You inhaled sharply before looking back to a waiting Bucky.

You nodded.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Sounds…fun.”

“Great, well we were heading back anyway. So, see you later?” you sister bid.

“Or not,” your little sister added teasingly before she shot her gaze over to Bucky once more. “But we do have her location, just so you know,” she added seriously, a hint of a warning in her words.

“Ooo-kay,” you said, breaking the forthcoming tension, “I will text you guys when I’m on my way back,” you told them, urging them to get going.

“It was nice to meet you, Bucky. I trust my sister will get home safe,” your sister said directly.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he responded gallantly while your face felt as if it was literally on fire.

What was this, it was like your parents were dropping you off for your first date in high school. But somehow worse.

She nodded, “And thank you for the candy. Sidney,” she called, getting her daughter’s attention, “what do we say?”

“Thank you! Happy Halloween!”

“You’re very welcome,” Bucky smiled. “Happy Halloween.”

—

It wasn’t long before you found yourself sitting on Bucky’s couch, a glass of water you had desperately needed sitting before you on the coffee table and Bucky sitting to the left of you, but keeping a respectable distance.

“I’m really sorry about my sisters, by the way. They can be a lot,” you huffed a laugh.

“Don’t be,” he brushed off, “It’s nice to see, honestly.”

You looked over at him, he seemed a bit forlorn before he came back to himself.

“You know, my niece was almost too scared to come to your door. She said this house is haunted, that ‘the metal man’ lives here and kills anyone who tries to enter.”

“Ah, I see word travels fast when it comes to children.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of like their own urban legend.”

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully as you laughed, lifting a leg up to cross under your thigh as you turned to face him on the couch.

“What?” you asked, “Don’t you want to be an urban legend?”

“Not really,” he laughed with a shake of his head, turning to face you better as well. “Especially not when it leaves me with bowls full of king sized candy bars no one seems to want.”

There’s a pause before he continues,

“Honestly… I don’t like knowing people are scared of me. I mean I’ve known, for a long time, that they are, it’s just.. Different when you can see that fear on their faces, in person.”

You didn’t even realize you were moving as you scooted in closer to him while he spoke.

“I thought the city was bad, but ever since I moved out here, it’s all so much more intimate. The stares are a lot more pointed.” He laughed humorlessly at himself, “I heard a couple kids talking about my arm a few weeks ago and tried to tell myself I didn’t care, but I’ve been wearing nothing but long sleeves every time I go outside now.

“I’m not ashamed of it,” he said quickly to clarify, “I just, I don’t want them to have to be scared of me.”

“They shouldn’t be scared of you just because you have a prosthetic arm,” you argued, knowing they surely knew nothing else of who he was, “and their parents should probably be leading by better examples.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “what can you do?” He swallowed the lump in his throat that was forming at your defense of him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring all this up-”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s on me. I am incredibly skilled at killing conversations before they even begin.”

“I don’t know about that. You don’t know me well yet, so you don’t know how big of a deal this is, but, I like talking to you,” he smiled.

You had to look away from his gaze, breathing a laugh as you did.

The movie was playing on screen, but neither of you were paying any attention to it as you continued talking.

Each time Bucky laughed at your lame jokes, you swore you felt like you were flying. You talked about everything and nothing. You got to know each other better, asking questions about life and preferences and favorites and what-ifs. The conversation flowed so easily, you never even really had to think about what to say next. That definitely wasn’t usual for you, and you liked it. You liked him.

Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned flirty, and again, it was completely effortless.

Your knees were pressing against one another as you sat across from each other, almost side by side on the couch.

You laughed in unison at a cheesy line Bucky tried on you before a jump scare on the screen had you quite literally jumping. Without thought, you leaned into Bucky, and he had no qualms about it as you hid your face in his shoulder.

He laughed lightly, his arm coming around you and gently rubbing your back before you forced yourself to pull away. His warmth was so nice and welcoming, but if you didn’t back up, you would’ve tried to nuzzle right into his side - you couldn’t risk the embarrassment.

As you turned back to sit next to him though, he kept his arm around you and tugged you in a bit closer.

You briefly wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, because you definitely could. You thought it might beat out of your chest at any moment as his warm cologne invaded your senses.

“Sorry, I guess I just assumed you liked scary movies,” he laughed.

“Ya know what’s funny is I actually hate scary movies,” you told him, “the It movies are some of the very few that don’t scare me.”

“Oh, that was you not being scared?” he smirked with a raised brow.

“That was- it just, it caught me off guard,” you defended with a smile, absentmindedly leaning more into his hold.

You had never gotten so close to someone in such a short amount of time, emotionally or physically.

It was foreign, but you enjoyed it. It may have been sudden, but it didn’t feel rushed.

“You get scared easily?” he asked.

“I’m the biggest scaredy cat I know,” you admitted. “I’m not hard to get a jump out of, I get scared of literally everything,” you laughed at yourself.

You turned to look at him when he didn’t say anything and felt your breath catch in your throat for the second time that night. He was so close to you now, and his eyes were piercing as he took you in, lingering on your lips and sending a chill through you.

The energy between you seemed to shift from something light and playful to something more charged, deliberate.

Your eyes drifted to his lips despite yourself, too.

He leaned in just a touch closer to you and your lips were mere inches away as he spoke,

“You’re not scared of me,” he said, though you weren’t sure if it was a question or not. Still, you responded as if it were.

Leaning in, brushing your lips against his, you breathed, “No.”

His hand was on your head then, keeping you close to him as he pressed his lips against yours, it was fervent, yet delicate, as your lips moved against one another.

You moved a hand to hold onto his left shoulder and he tugged your body to move you completely over his lap while he continued to lead the kiss.

His metal hand found its way to your plush waist as he held you, squeezing you lightly and inadvertently causing you to sink down lower into his lap while your upper body melted into him.

His hand slid from your waist to your ass, grabbing you through your leggings, kneading your ample flesh in his large palm.

You moaned into his mouth and that seemed to spur him on because in the blink of an eye you found yourself being flipped onto your back as he pinned you beneath his large body.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting, your hands fisted in his sweatshirt as his wandered your curves.

“Do you have a bed?” you breathed, pulling him back down to be closer to you, wanting desperately to have his lips on yours once more. He nodded.

“Glad you asked,” he returned, voice low and husky.

You yelped as Bucky lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you with ease while you clung to him like your life depended on it. If he dropped you, you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover from the embarrassment. But as he began up the steps and his hold didn’t falter for a single second, you realized maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about.. He held you like you weighed nothing and honestly, it sent a new wave of arousal through you as he reached the door of his bedroom.

He tossed you down on his bed carefully, but stopped you before you could begin tugging your leggings down your thick thighs.

You looked at him, confused and with a touch of worry you were about to be rejected.

“I’m sorry,” he began, “I should’ve said this before I brought you up here,”

That did nothing to ease your worry…

“I really like you. And I think there could be something real here between us, I don’t want to ruin that. So if you were only here for one night,-”

“I really like you, too,” you cut him off, eyes gleaming into his, “And I think you’re right, I don’t wanna ruin it either. I wasn’t planning for this to be a one night stand, but if you want to take things slower, I don’t have a problem with that.”

“No, I’m good with where we were heading, I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t want this to be just tonight.”

You nodded, a little breathless as you smiled up at him.

“Same page, then.”

“Good,” he grinned before pushing you to lie back on his bed as he descended upon you.

His lips were on your neck and as he sucked on your sweet spot, you couldn’t contain the soft moan that passed your lips.

His hands found the waistband of your bottoms and he pulled them down as much as he could manage before you lifted your hips and wiggled a bit to assist him in getting them off of you.

You pulled impatiently at the buckle of his jeans, earning a chuckle from him before he got to work taking them off.

While he got rid of his jeans, you pulled your shirt up and over your head, catching on the cat ears you had forgotten you were wearing. You threw them all to the side, unclasping your bra as Bucky shrugged his sweatshirt off over his head in turn.

He was back on top of you in an instant, pulling your bra off of you and tossing it to land with the rest of your discarded clothes off the side of the bed.

His large hands immediately went to your breasts, admiring the soft, heavy feel of them in his hands while he palmed them, squeezing slightly as he felt you.

You mewled under his attention, eyes closed in delight as his touch only added fuel to the fire burning in your core.

When he leaned down and took a pert nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking on your tit, your hand found his hair as you gasped at the sensation, holding him to you, enjoying the feeling of his mouth on your breasts.

You could feel the wetness growing between your legs as he continued to have his fun, unconsciously rutting his thick cock against you when you’d moan for him.

As he traveled down your body, his hands following your curves and his lips kissing every inch of you that he could, he paid special attention to your tummy before he traveled even lower.

You were a writhing mess as you felt his warm breath on your folds. When your hips bucked up into his face and you felt his lips brushing your cunt, you whined obscenely at the feeling. Bucky laughed tauntingly, holding your hips back down as he poked his tongue out past his plump lips, lightly licking your folds and your sensitive clit as you gripped his hair and urged him closer, wanting, needing more.

He finally took mercy on you after a long, torturous minute, spreading you open for him before he ate you out like a man starved.

His tongue glided all over your slick cunt, dipping in and out of your tight entrance, before coming back up to flick your clit.

He drew figure eights over the sensitive bud and you swore you were about to come undone from that alone, but when he sunk his thick digits into your dripping pussy, curling them just right, rubbing against that special spot perfectly, you were seeing stars as your thighs threatened to clamp around his head while you shook from your orgasm. Your walls clamped down on his fingers as you came and he moaned at the feeling as he worked you through the high, more than ready to finally get his cock inside you.

“Doll, you look so gorgeous like this,” he admired as he held himself above you, “naked and sweaty beneath me. Like a fucking goddess,” he praised, grabbing his erection and positioning himself at your entrance.

“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked, running his cockhead up and down your dripping slit.

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you moaned pathetically, spreading your legs as wide as you could for him.

“Mm, I love the way you say my name, doll,” he groaned as he pushed just his tip inside your tight cunt, moving in and out of you as you whined for him.

“God, please, Bucky, please fuck me! I want it so bad,” you whimpered. “I wanna feel you fill me up, please.”

The growl that left his throat had your pussy fluttering, squeezing around nothing before he finally gave you what you wanted. With one hard, deep stroke, he was fully seated inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you gasped sharply, your hands gripping onto him wherever you could as he began to set his pace. With every thrust of his hips into you, he was hitting deeper and deeper inside your cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” you cried.

“There you go, sweetheart. Take all ‘a my cock inside this tight pussy, taking me so fuckin’ well,” his hands were tight on your hips as he fucked into you. “This what you wanted, doll?” he panted, his pace never faltering as he fucked you harder, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his balls hitting your cunt with his every thrust filled the room, mingled with your moans and whimpers and his grunts and growls. “Wanted this big dick to stretch you out, huh? Wanted to feel me fill you up with my hot cum til I’m dripping outta you.”

One of his hands left your hip and instead went to grab at your breasts again, his large hand palming your tit as he squeezed and kneaded, flicking his thumb over your nipple and only adding to the pleasure threatening to send you over the edge.

“God, yes! Please, fucking yes, Bucky, please, please, please, please” you begged pathetically, reaching a hand down to find your clit, working your bud in circles as your walls tightened around his thick cock.

Your eyes were about to roll into the back of your head as you moaned senselessly, Bucky’s hand leaving your chest and nudging your own away from your clit. He replaced your hand and circled your clit perfectly as he continued rolling his hips into yours, his pace growing more erratic and the words leaving his beautiful lips growing filthier the closer he got to his own end.

With one perfectly angled thrust, you were crying as your body shook at the intensity of your orgasm. Wave after wave of nerve tingling pleasure lighting you up as you rode out the high. Your toes curled, legs wrapped around him as much as they could be while he grabbed at your body, falling down closer to you as he moaned, holding your body tighter as he pumped his hips, “Fuck,” he growled as he pushed himself as deep inside of you as he could, his eyes squeezing shut, holding himself there as he came, his body shaking some as he attempted to thrust once more.

You moaned at the feeling of him painting your walls, your hands in his hair as he buried his face in your neck, holding him to you. He stayed inside of you for a long minute as you both panted, trying to catch your breath, while he ensured he got all of his load out before he finally pushed himself up off of you, gently sliding out of you.

He flipped over next to you, laying on his back before he pulled you into him. Your hand rested on his chest as you laid in his left arm.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed, your fingers playing in his chest hair mindlessly as you worked to catch your breath.

His hand was running up and down your side soothingly as he moved to try and meet your eye.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’m better than okay, honestly. That was…amazing.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he smiled, “but still, I’m sorry if I got carried away. I tend to run my mouth when I’m, uh,” he fumbled with his words, “ya know, in the moment.”

He looked so bashful, you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his expression.

“You just said all of what you just said, but you had trouble with that?” you tittered, rubbing his chest before turning further into him, laying on your side as he stayed on his back, propping his right hand under his head as he relaxed into the position. “But really, Bucky, you don’t have to apologize. I don’t know if you could tell, but…I really liked it,” you simpered sensually.

Bucky smiled at you as you leaned up to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

“It’s probably way late now, right?” you asked as you pulled away from him. “I should probably head back.”

Bucky sat up after you, “Do you have to?” he asked softly.

You looked back at him, his blue eyes set on you. You nipped at your lower lip before shaking your head lightly. A new, sweeter excitement washing over you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you could stay for the night,” he offered. “I was hoping I could take you for breakfast in the morning?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes as he waited for your response. That giddiness you felt earlier came over you once again as you held his gaze.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes angst

3K notes · View notes

aemondfairy · 2 days

Text

Consideration

summary: Aegon can never control himself, embarassing you yet again. Aemond helps put you at ease.

pairing: Aemond x Sister!Reader

word count: 586

warnings: Explicit smut, fingering, incest, infidelity 18+ MDNI

note: Idk if this sucks... Just a quick lil thing because I have targcest brainrot & we get to see our man tmrw!!! Feedback is appreciated! Feel free to send me requests!

You watched in disgust as your husband leaned in closer to one of the young serving girls, his glossy eyes sparkled with excitement. Your hand clenched so tightly around your goblet of wine that your knuckles were white. As if throwing a feast to celebrate the death of your own nephew wasn’t bad enough, Aegon had to humiliate his wife in the process.

You forced a smile on your face, but your grip on the goblet only tightened.

From across the table your brother Aemond had been made aware of your frustration, and after a few glares at Aegon he put two and two together.

“Would you like to get some air?” He asked, already helping you out of your seat.

“I would like nothing more.”

He linked his arm with yours two of you excused yourselves from the table and made your way out to the gardens.

“Gods, what a nightmare,” you groaned as you felt the weight of Aemond’s body behind you.

“I thought you did not care about our brother’s endeavors?” He questioned curiously, his hot breath fanning over the shell of your ear.

“I don’t,” you swallowed thickly, “but to behave so shamelessly in front of the entire court? I wish he would spare me the humiliation.”

A low hum emerged from Aemond’s throat.

“Mmm. I say, let him prove himself to be the fool we all know he is.“

He carefully moved your hair away from your neck, providing him access to your delicate flesh. He peppered small kisses from under your earlobe down to your collarbone.

“You are the most beautiful woman in that room,” he purred, “Aegon knows it, I know it, the entire court knows it. He is simply unworthy of you.”

You let out a sigh at his words, your cheeks flushed at his compliments.

His large hand skimmed up your ribcage over your right breast. You let out a small moan as he squeezed it harshly, kneading at the flesh. Anticipation pooled in your belly.

You let out a gasp as his two large hands gripped your waist, spinning you around so that your back faced the garden wall.

After he hitched your dress up over your waist and pulled your smallclothes down, leaving you no time to protest; Aemond worked not one, but two fingers inside of you. Quickly finding your most sensitive spots. Your body trembled as familiar heat started to bloom within you.

Adrenaline rushed through your veins. The thrill of possibly getting caught added an exciting edge to it all, heightening your senses and making every touch more intense. With each thrust of his fingers, fire burned within you.

As his slender fingers worked their magic, pleasure radiated through your body, causing your breath to hitch and your toes to curl. Your mind went blank as you surrendered to the intense sensation, reveling in the pleasure brought on by your brother.

You moaned loudly as your orgasm ripped through you. Aemond watched intently, his own jaw slack as you clamped down around his fingers, soaking them in your release as you did so.

“Feeling better?“ he asked, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“Yes,“ you giggled shyly, as he pulled his fingers from your core, “thank you.“

“Good,“ he replied, as he brought his digits to his lips, sucking your release off of them.

“Now, we are going to go back inside and you are going to sit with your head held high like the queen that I know you are.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond oneshot #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon #hotd s2 #ewan mitchell #aemond smut #aemond x reader smut #targcest #aemond x sister!reader #prince aemond #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you

370 notes · View notes

vampsywrites · 11 months

Text

II — i remember her hands, and the way the mountains looked.

Synopsis: In which the Sullys approach the mountain clan for sanctuary. The Olo'eykte agrees but proposes one condition: Toruk Makto's eldest son must be promised to her daughter. Surprisingly, instead of the solemn response one would expect, Neteyam agrees almost instantaneously.

Tags: Female! Mountain Na'vi! Reader, Arranged Marriage, Sun&Moon couple, Strangers to Lovers, Neteyam is whipped, Mentions of Jealousy&Possessiveness, Romantic tension, Neteyam wanting to impress his girl, Lo'ak having the time of his life teasing the shit out of Neteyam, Reader has that Tsahik rizz

Word Count: 2.8k | AO3 LINK

< PREV | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >

With the village of the Iuva'ri clan now their new home, the Sullys followed you past open fields, their eyes wandering in amazement at the sights.

Everywhere they looked, the hustle and bustle of daily life surrounded them. Hunters could be seen hauling large beasts into the village, farmers had their hands deep in the earth as they worked to ensure a bountiful harvest, and weavers, with their deft hands, skillfully crafted intricate patterns into fabric.

Though the environment was not too different from what they were used to in the forest, it was still a significant change from the wild, cluttered jungle they had known all their life.

While his family was busy taking all of the clan in, Neteyam was fully focused on you. He watched in fascination as the village parted when you walked past, people practically throwing themselves aside to clear your path. From elders to children, they bowed in reverence and greeted you with warmth and admiration, recognizing you as their Tsahìk.

Through the walk, Neteyam also couldn't help but notice how your presence captured the attention of the young men and women around. Warriors, weavers, hunters – they all seemed to be drawn to you, stopping in their tracks with blushing cheeks as they exchanged hushed words. Their lingering gazes and subtle glances, their eyes which seemed to follow you like a predator stalking its prey, didn't escape Neteyam's watchful eyes.

As he observed this intense attention you garnered, a pang of possessiveness surged through his gut, and his tail lashed out in irritation.

Neteyam felt torn, battling with the internal struggle of feeling irrationally possessive. Deep down, he knew he had no right to be jealous. After all, he had no claim over you, and he had yet to truly earn your trust and affection.

The announcement of your courtship clearly took the clan by surprise. While some genuinely celebrated your happiness, others found it difficult to hide their envy. Evident by the glares sent his way from those who might have hoped to be in his place.

This scrutiny only served to intensify his emotions.

"This will be your home now," you called out, your voice calm and welcoming, pulling him away from his thoughts. Neteyam watched as you guided them to a beautifully crafted hut elevated on bamboo wooden stilts. It stood gracefully above the ground, a testament to the skilled craftsmanship of your people. The roof was steeply pitched and thatched with nipa palm leaves, while the walls were intricately woven from bamboo slats.

Tuktirey gasped in amazement, her eyes wide with childish wonder as she marveled at the hut's elevated design. "It's so tall!" she exclaimed, clearly impressed by the unique structure.

You hummed, understanding their awe and sensing the underlying hesitation in some of them.

"You will grow to like it," you reassured with a small smile. "It may be different from what you're used to, but it will keep you safe and warm. Our people have lived in harmony with Eywa and these lands for generations."

Tuktirey beamed up at you. "I can't wait to explore and learn more about your ways," she cheers, enthusiasm evident.

“I am sure you will learn well, little one,” you hum, running a hand through her braided hair.

With ease, you then moved towards the stairs, climbing up with a sense of familiarity as you began to haul their belongings to their new home. The family followed behind you, still feeling a tad bit out of place.

After ensuring they were comfortable, you began to excuse yourself, knowing you needed to give them some privacy. As you walked past Neteyam, catching his gaze, you gently rest your hand upon his chest. After murmuring a quick goodbye, you withdrew your hand and swiftly left the hut. Neteyam’s mind ran haywire, the spot where your hand had been burned with a sudden fire, leaving a lingering sensation on his skin that he couldn't shake off.

Eywa. It had only been a day and already you had an effect on him.

With your departure, the family gathered together, finding a spot to discuss the events that had transpired earlier. Neytiri paced back and forth in the open hut, footsteps loud against the wooden flooring, her mind racing with a myriad of thoughts and emotions.

"Alright," Jake sighed, running a rugged hand down his face, breaking through the tension. "We have to unpack what just happened earlier."

Neytiri nodded, her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of the situation. Her eyes turned to Neteyam, concern evident in her voice as she asked, "Ma'itan, are you sure of this?"

"Oh, he sure is," Lo'ak answered for his brother, sending a grin his way. "I mean—Did you hear him back there?"

"I will accept this proposal. Only if she will have me," he mocked, mimicking Neteyam's accent in a deep, gravely tone. Kiri couldn't help but hide her face with her hand, trying to stifle her laughter.

"Skxawng," Neteyam snarled playfully and gave Lo'ak a light smack in response, which only made his younger siblings laugh even more.

"Enough, you two," Neytiri's voice rang out, cutting through the air. She shook her head in exasperation, her beaded locks swaying and rattling with her movements. Turning her attention back to her eldest, her tone dropped a timbre as she murmured, "Neteyam, this is a big decision. Are you truly sure about this? You wish to mate with that woman?"

Neteyam's gaze shifted from his brother to his mother, lips drawing into a contemplative frown as the weight of it all settled heavily on his shoulders. The significance of such a union wasn't lost on him. The mating bond was not merely a union of bodies; it was the fusion of two souls, a sacred connection dictated by Eywa. He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express his feelings.

"I am sure," he replied, his voice steady, despite the turmoil inside him. Neytiri studied his face for a moment, catching the hesitation laced in his expression.

"You do not have to do something your heart is against," his mother whispered, reaching forward, both of her hands finding his tense shoulders, rubbing deep circles into his muscle. Neteyam felt the warmth and reassurance in his mother's touch, and for a moment, he leaned into it, finding comfort in her presence.

"That’s the thing. My heart isn’t against it. I just… I felt something when I saw her." He then hesitated, struggling to unknot his mind and put his feelings into words. "Like-Like a heartbeat."

Kiri's eyes sparkled with wonder, a look of recognition flashing behind her eyes. Her tail swished with delight as she leaned forward eagerly, the shawl slipping off her shoulder in the haste of her movement. "You must have felt Eywa's connection with her. Was it like a calling? Could you feel a mighty heartbeat?"

Neteyam froze, his gaze turning to his younger sister.

"Yes. Exactly that, Kiri," he replied, his voice filled with a hint of disbelief. "It was like… she was calling out to me in some way, as if our souls were somehow intertwined."

Kiri's excitement grew, and she couldn't contain her joy. “Eywa has blessed you with a gift, brother. Rarely do mates feel such a deep soul connection on the first time they meet."

"Soul connection? That’s love at first sight, huh?" Jake interjected, his eyes glinting as he glanced at Neytiri with a knowing smile. "Sound familiar?"

Neytiri's stern façade softened as she smiled back, unable to hide her amusement. "Yes, it does," she admitted with a fondness in her voice. Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of understanding and warmth as she looked at her eldest son. "Neteyam, ma’itan, if you truly feel this connection, then it may be a sign from Eywa herself. The steps you take next will be entirely up to you."

"It's just like those stories we've heard, bro. Soulmates and destined love,” Lo’ak chimed in. “You and her, together, guided by Eywa's hand," he smirked, clasping his hands together and making kissy faces. Neteyam huffed, shaking his head.

"Yeah. It might be like that," he admitted with a touch of bashfulness.

"But let's not get carried away with the dramatics,” Neteyam sighs, snapping himself back to reality. “I still want to get to know her first. I want to take it slow.”

“Slow, huh? Is that what you call asking her to mate with you on the spot?" Lo’ak laughed.

“Lo’ak!” Neytiri hissed, glaring at him disapprovingly.

"I did not ask her to mate with me on the spot!" Neteyam snaps through gritted teeth, his voice rising slightly in embarrassment.

Lo'ak's laughter boomed through the air, thoroughly relishing the sight of his older brother's flustered expression. It was a rare occasion for Neteyam to be caught off guard by his teasing, always having a smartass rebut at the tip of his tongue.

"Yeah? Well, it sure looked like it to me," he snickered, his tail swishing back and forth in interest. Neytiri intervened, smacking him upside on the head. Lo’ak winced in response, and nursed the spot where his mother had hit him.

"Ow, ow, I get it," he groaned, lying flat on the floor. "I'll stop."

"Alright. ‘Nough of that. Come on," Jake said, with a chuckle, huddling everyone close. Once they had formed a circle, he began to address them, his tone taking on a more serious note, "Listen, I really need you kids to be on your best behavior. And I mean it."

Jake shifts his gaze to his eldest son, “Neteyam becoming a candidate for future Olo'eyktan already stirred things up enough. And I don’t even need to tell you just how messy that’s going to be.”

Neteyam heaved out a tense sigh, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. “Sorry, sir.”

“We’re gonna get through this,” Jake continued, dismissing Neteyam’s apology, his voice carrying a tone of reassurance. “Together.”

Neytiri moved closer to her husband, gently placing her head over Jake's shoulder. “What does your father always say?” Neytiri murmured, her voice soft and soothing.

“Sullys stick together…”

“Little more feeling this time!"

“Sullys stick together!”

As the night falls and the stars twinkle in the dark sky, they finally retire to their new sleeping arrangements. Neteyam lays on his makeshift bed, a woven mat made out of palm and leaves, his mind abuzz with thoughts. He gazes out of the hut's opening, where he can catch a glimpse of you in the moonlight, going about your duties as Tsahìk, checking up on a few of the sick and injured in their huts.

Your silhouette against the moonlit backdrop mesmerizes him, and he finds himself drawn to your presence like a moth to a flame. As you notice his gaze, you offer him a reassuring nod before continuing your duties. His heart swells with warmth at the acknowledgment.

With the comfort of your presence lingering in his mind, Neteyam turns onto his back, feeling a sense of peace settle over him. The gentle rustle of palm leaves outside and the distant sounds of the forest lull him into a state of relaxation. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to fall into a deep and restful sleep.

The next morning, the village awakens early. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange as the sun begins to rise over the mountains. Knocking gently at the side of their hut, you had called for them before the sun could even fully emerge, offering to show them more of the village and its surrounding wonders.

You lead them through the mountains, showing Kiri, Lo'ak, Tuk, and Neteyam the ways of life in this breathtaking terrain. The trees stand tall and proud, similar to those in the forest they once called home, but here they bear a different kind of energy, surrounded by majestic mountains which hold ancient tales of the ancestors before them. The group walks amidst the trees, their senses heightened by the subtle sounds of wildlife and the fresh scent of earth.

As you lead them further, you come across vast rice fields, a breathtaking sight of lush green beauty stretching as far as the eye can see. The fields seem to come alive with the morning sunlight. The stalks of rice sway gently in the breeze, creating a mesmerizing dance, captivating the forest Na’vi.

Amidst the exploration, Neteyam's keen eyes spot a group of mountain climbers in the distance, scaling a rocky hill.

"What are they doing?" he questions, his curiosity piqued.

"They're practicing for the coming-of-age ceremony," you say, your gaze following the climbers. Neteyam's curiosity turns into intrigue, and he listens intently as you begin to explain.

"It's an ascent to the clouded peak," you share, pointing to a towering mountain in the distance, its summit shrouded in mist. "At dawn, the candidates gather at the base. It is the tallest mountain in the region and they must set out on a journey to reach the summit."

Lo’ak whistles, grimacing while he sizes up the daunting landscape before him. "We have to climb that?" he asks incredulously.

“Only if you want to. Your Omatikayan ikinimaya should be enough for you to be recognized in the clan,” you assure him with a pat on his back.

Neteyam stays silent for the next few minutes, his faraway gaze directed towards the rocky mountain. Suddenly, he startles everyone by speaking up, the words slipping from his mouth causing your eyes to rip wide open.

"I want to partake in it," he says, his voice steady and resolute. The sudden declaration shakes everyone, and his siblings turn their attention fully to him, waiting to hear his reasoning.

You too gaze up at him in disbelief. "Are you certain?" you ask, wanting to ensure that he fully comprehends the challenges that lie ahead. “This is no simple feat—”

"I am strong," Neteyam interrupts, sounding a little harsher than he had intended, but it was important to him that you knew of his abilities. "I will be able to train for it well."

Your milky eyes drop to his battle-hardened body, sweeping over his broad shoulders and the ridges of his defined muscles, glistening softly in the sun’s glow. The scars etched on his skin tell tales of past battles and trials, a testament to his experience. Neteyam holds his ground, finding himself flexing subconsciously under your gaze.

"I know you are strong," you retort.

"Yes—"

"But the warriors of the forest are different from those of the mountains," you cut him off with a pointed stare. "It is not just about physical strength; you will have to learn how they train, their techniques, and their ways of life," you begin to move towards him, a challenging look in your eyes. "It is difficult to fill a cup that is already full."

Neteyam's jaw clenches, his gaze unwavering. "Then I will empty my cup. I will adapt," he asserts with passion. "I will prove myself not just to your people but to myself as well. If I am to be chief, I have to embrace your ways."

"Pretty sure you just want to impress her, bro," Lo’ak quips. Neteyam scowls at his remark and, in a swift motion, drives his elbow straight into his younger brother's side. At the impact, Lo’ak immediately folds, nursing his side as his face contorts in pain. “Fuck!”

Ignoring Lo’ak, Neteyam turns back to you, his expression steadfast and unwavering. In that moment, he feels an overwhelming longing to prove himself to you, to earn your admiration and love based on his own merits, not just because of any preconceived notions or expectations.

His determination shines like a beacon, and his sincerity tugs at your heartstrings. It's as if he's baring his soul before you, showing you the depths of his desire to be someone you can truly respect and admire.

With a hum, you settle back, your tail flickering behind you in intrigue. If the rumors carried by the wind from clan to clan about him were to be believed, then you should have known he would want to partake in the ceremony.

Such a bold spirit, evident in those golden eyes of his every time he spoke. The mountains around you seemed to echo with approval, as if Eywa herself was acknowledging his resolve.

"If you are that eager, then I will teach you," you say, the decision firm in your heart. It feels as if a weight is lifted off his shoulders at your acceptance of his offer. Neteyam hums, trying to maintain a stoic expression but the telltale flicks of his ears and tail betray his anticipation and eagerness.

"Do not be mistaken, though. I will not baby you," you add with a daring lilt in your voice. You begin to walk away, the swing of your hips matching the sway of your tail. "Let us hope you can keep up, mighty warrior."

That seemed to only fuel the fire within him further.

Neteyam’s chest rumbles in a deep laugh, a fanged grin stretching across his cheeks. "Yes, ma’am.”

< PREV | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >

see you in the next episode where the reader works her future husband's ass to the ground xoxo

TAGLIST: @rainbowsocks @milktealvrr @strawberri-blonde

2K notes · View notes

cybrsan · 4 months

Text

Light It Up! — K.HJ, P.SH

STORY SUMMARY: The year is 2077, and the world is a lawless dystopia where tech giants and major corporations hold all the power. Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa are an infamous criminal duo who have made names for themselves fighting against the "techno brainwashing" of society. Discovering they're on the brink of getting caught, they decide to go out with a bang—and who better to help them than their favorite plaything?

PAIRING: Kim Hongjoong x F!Reader x Park Seonghwa

RATING/GENRE: M ; smut ; criminal / cyberpunk / dystopian AU

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

WARNINGS: Arson, breaking and entering, clubbing, alcohol + drug use, pet names (doll, precious), rioting, violence

NSFW WARNINGS: Choking, creampie, cum stuffing, cunnilingis, deep throating, exhibitionism, fire play, fingering, free use, hair-pulling, knife play (light), multiple orgasms, play party, public sex, spitroasting, sub drop, threesome, overstimulation

A/N: Don't blame me, blame the MATZ m/v.

LINKS: Masterlist, cross-posted on AO3.

“And… there!”

After days of meticulous planning, organizing, and making shady, back-alley deals, it’s finally done. The last camera is in position—everything is ready for the big event. All that’s left for you to do is step back and admire your work.

Switching on your illegally procured holodeck, you press a few buttons and watch as the space around you completely transforms. What was once an abandoned warehouse is now a club that could rival any in the city center. Neon lights pulse to heavy synth, serving bots whiz from place to place, and the makeshift bar looks inviting enough with rows of expensive bottles on display. Whether or not the liquor in the bottles is worth the price, well… Hopefully people will be too distracted to notice.

The focal point, the one thing you are most proud of, is the transparent stage that extends at least 15 feet above the dance floor. Taking in the grandeur of it all is more than enough to get you excited for what's to come. You're certain that Hongjoong and Seonghwa will put on the performance of the century.

Today is incredibly important for both of them, and the fact that they have trusted you enough to include you more than makes up for the long hours and strenuous work. They’re currently out setting up their "grand finale," which they have been painstakingly cryptic about. You have your suspicions, not that you need or even want to know the specifics.

A low whistle pierces the air. "You really outdid yourself this time, doll."

You turn to look at Seonghwa as he enters, and your heart practically skips a beat when you take in his appearance—he must have changed in preparation for the big event. His hair, pulled away from his face, lets you focus on his features; dark eyes, full lips, all beautifully accented by his smoky makeup. His outfit is one you haven't seen on him before, but it suits him perfectly, from the gold chains hanging around his neck to the deep cut of his silk shirt.

"Thanks, Hwa," you reply bashfully, dusting off your hands on your jeans. "Just trying to do my part."

He approaches you, a smirk tugging at his lips. The way he stares at you, drinks you in… it makes you feel like a prey animal who has found itself in the sights of a predator. You blush and cast your gaze to the floor, suddenly fascinated by the specks of dirt at your feet.

"And you have done it spectacularly." He lifts your chin with his pointer finger, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "I think you deserve a reward."

Seonghwa drops his gaze to your lips for just a moment before he leans in, closing the space between you with an almost agonizing slowness. The kiss is gentle and commanding all at once and you shiver, immediately pulling him closer. The fatigue, the stress—all of it melts away.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling on it with just enough force to make you gasp. His tongue slides expertly against yours, the taste of him something sweet and darkly rich, like cherry liquor. It’s addictive. But the moment ends too soon for your liking, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

Seonghwa doesn’t pull away entirely, resting his forehead against yours as he lifts a hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. He lets his touch linger as he traces a path down your neck, lithe fingers playing with the necklace dangling above your chest. Three dainty, silver hearts. One for you, one for Seonghwa, and one for—

The rev of a motorcycle engine cuts through the air, and your head snaps toward the sound just in time to see Hongjoong park his bike at the door. He takes off his helmet and shakes out his hair which you’re surprised to see is freshly dyed. It almost makes you laugh; of course even as he’s out running errands for his coup de grâce, he finds time for fashion.

“Not starting the party without me, I hope?”

Hongjoong’s heeled boots click pleasantly atop the concrete flooring as he walks over to the two of you. His synthetic fur coat is a bright orange, the complete opposite of what one might expect a criminal on the run to wear. But both he and Seonghwa have never been ones for hiding.

“Never,” Seonghwa replies, clapping a hand on the back of the younger’s neck. “Did you get it done?”

Hongjoong scoffs in a teasing manner. “Did you doubt I would?”

“Of course not.” Seonghwa squeezes Hongjoong’s neck once before letting go and clapping his hands together. “Looks like it’s time for the show.”

A few hours later, the party is in full swing. The once-empty warehouse is now filled to the brim with people dressed in cloaks and masks for the sake of anonymity. Some are on the dance floor, grinding against each other, while others have drifted toward the bar, downing shots and laughing.

Toward the back of the room, there's a group huddled around a table, huffing glitter, black lace, and who knows what other kinds of drugs. Meanwhile, others are tangled together on couches, lost in the throes of ecstasy. The air is so thick with the smell of smoke and sweat that it almost makes you dizzy.

A hand wraps around your neck from behind, pulling you against a warm body, and you gasp. “That’ll be us later, precious,” Hongjoong whispers, hot breath fanning against your ear. Your nervousness ebbs away, immediately replaced by eagerness. “Do you like watching them? Or maybe you’d prefer to be the one being watched?”

You lean back against him, the hand around your neck a welcome pressure. “Both,” you breathe.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter. “Good.”

He separates from you, and you turn to face him. He seems so confident, so excited, that it’s hard to believe he and Seonghwa are about to paint targets on both of their backs. Hit by a wave of anxiety, you lean forward and kiss him. He immediately reciprocates, nipping at your bottom lip and eagerly exploring your mouth with his tongue.

Kissing him is always different than kissing Seonghwa. Seonghwa’s kisses are controlled, with a hidden power brewing behind them. There’s always a promise of more, a hint at what is to come when he finally lets go. On the other hand, Hongjoong kisses with reckless abandon. He is uninhibited, always ready to devour you whole. When he pulls back, a string of spit hangs between you before snapping.

“You nervous?” You nod, and he gently tweaks your chin between two fingers. “Don’t be. Those tech bastards have no idea what we have in store.”

“I just want the two of you to be safe.”

“And we will be,” he assures you. "After everything goes up in flames. Trust me, precious. Trust us.”

“I do.” And it’s true. You trust them with everything that you have.

“That’s our girl.” He kisses you again. “It’s time to go live.”

You take out your holodeck, and with the click of a button, all the cameras you set up switch on. You hurriedly switch channels through all the local stations, thrilled to see that it worked and the entire club is being streamed live to every device in the city.

You stop the music and make the lights go out, causing a hush to fall over the crowd. You shine one beam of light directly onto the stage and you watch as Seonghwa steps out to address the throng of people below. He is captivating and has no problem commanding all of the power in the room.

“Welcome one and all,” Seonghwa begins, voice booming over the speakers. “If you’re here, it means you are brave enough to fight against the corporations that enslave our society!”

Hongjoong steps up next to him, and while he’s smaller in stature, he exudes no less power. However, he stays silent as Seonghwa continues, “We will not be silenced any longer. Tonight, we raise our voices in defiance; we will no longer bow down to those who seek to control us!”

The crowd explodes into thunderous applause but immediately falls silent when Hongjoong raises a hand. "But tonight isn’t just about the revolution—it is also a celebration of our freedom, our individuality, and our unity. So let loose because everyone in the city is watching and we all know that, deep down, they wish they were us!”

Cheers and shouts fill the room once again as everyone raises their glasses in solidarity. Your heart swells with pride as you take it all in. You have become a part of something far greater than yourself and, just like your boys, you are willing to do whatever it takes to see it through to victory.

You switch the music and lights back on and the party resumes in full force. People seem to go even harder than they were before, playing up their hedonism for the cameras. Seonghwa and Hongjoong have disappeared into the crowd, likely to mingle and spread their message one-on-one.

Seonghwa favors the dance floor, hypnotizing those around him as he moves. A contented smile tugs at the corner of his lips as his hips sway to the beat, as beautiful as he is provocative. He flits from person to person, holding them close as he whispers into their ears. He occasionally catches you watching him, always making sure to tease you with a wink.

On the other hand, Hongjoong stalks the perimeter of the room, moving from group to group. His skill lies in charming people with his words, and tonight is no different. Everyone who speaks to him smiles and laughs, completely enamored with everything he says. He shakes hands, claps shoulders, and you have no doubt that if people weren’t loyal before, they will be when he’s through.

You stick to one of the quieter corners of the room in order to keep an eye on the cameras. You need to make sure that everything is running smoothly both in and out of the club; the last thing you need is for someone to reveal your location or try to hack into your network and ruin everything. You also keep a close eye on your boys, making sure they stay safe.

It’s past midnight by the time they come and find you. Hongjoong sits on your left, placing a hand on your thigh as he leans toward you and kisses your cheek. His lips linger a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he purrs, “You should be out there, dancing, having fun.”

“I am having fun,” you say, taking the champagne glass offered to you by Seonghwa.

Seonghwa sits on your right, throwing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his side. “You would be having even more fun if you put down the holodeck.”

“But—”

Hongjoong takes it from you, throwing it haphazardly onto the cushion beside him. “Don’t argue.”

He leans forward again, this time lightly nibbling your earlobe with his teeth. You gasp, knuckles turning white as you tighten your grip on your glass out of instinct. Seonghwa watches the two of you with half-lidded eyes, his hand trailing down your side and slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to trace patterns over your flushed skin.

“It’s a night for celebration, doll,” he murmurs. “You have done your job. The only thing we need from you now is… well, you.” He squeezes your hip and you jump slightly. “The badges will be here in a little over an hour according to one of my sources. While not as long as I’d like, it gives us just enough time to have a celebration of our own.”

Your thighs clench in anticipation—you know exactly what he’s hinting at.

"Lead the way, then," you say, setting your half-empty glass down.

Seonghwa’s gaze meets Hongjoong’s over your head, an unspoken agreement passing between them. They stand up and pull you toward the dance floor, surrounding you, one at your front and one at your back. You sway between them to a slow, seductive rhythm, closing your eyes as you let yourself enjoy their attention.

Seonghwa’s hands rest on your waist, pulling you against him as he starts to move his hips in tandem with yours, grinding against you. Meanwhile, Hongjoong cups your face, thumb tracing your bottom lip. His eyes are dark and intense as he captures your mouth with his own in a searing kiss.

Seonghwa’s grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin as he watches Hongjoong devour you. He keeps one hand on your hip while the other snakes around to cup the back of Hongjoong’s neck, causing the younger to moan into your mouth at the touch. Now with a possessive grip on you both, Seonghwa gets to work nipping and marking the exposed skin of your shoulder.

The room seems to disappear around you as they continue to explore you, their mouths and hands feeling like they are everywhere at once. It's intoxicating, even more so than the champagne you were drinking earlier. You feel Seonghwa’s hand trail even lower, disappearing under your waistline, snapping the band of your underwear against your skin.

You gasp and Hongjoong laughs against you, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling back with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Let’s give them a good show, hm?”

You let the two of them drag you onto the stage, cheeks ablaze as you realize exactly what they’re planning. You’re hyper aware of the fact that you are being watched; even though most of the club-goers are lost in their own pleasure, the viewers that are steaming have nothing better to do than keep their eyes locked on you.

Seonghwa clicks his tongue, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “Look at our girl, acting so shy.” His fingers find your heart necklace, tugging at it just hard enough to make you gasp. “As if wearing this doesn’t mean we can do whatever we want to you, whenever and wherever we want.”

Hongjoong takes a switchblade out of his pocket, flipping it open with a maniacal grin on his face. He uses it to cut away your clothes, exposing your body for everyone to see. Your knees shake and whether it is out of anxiety or anticipation, you can’t tell.

He traces the tip of it against your skin, the cold metal leaving goosebumps in its wake. “We know you love it, precious,” he says. “Don’t you want everyone to see how good we make you feel? Think of all the viewers out there that will feel oh-so-scandalized but still won’t be able to look away. Not to mention all the greedy whores who will be getting themselves off to us, wishing they were in our places.”

Seonghwa pulls you against him just like he did on the dance floor, once again letting his fingers tease his way down your stomach. But this time, he lets them travel even lower, dipping into your folds.

“Look how wet you are just from this,” he remarks, bringing his fingers back up and spreading them so you can see the evidence of your own desire. He then extends them to Hongjoong who greedily laps at them, sucking them clean.

You whine, trying to keep your legs closed from embarrassment, knowing anyone below the stage can look right up at you and see exactly how aroused you are. But Seonghwa won’t let you, shoving his knee between your thighs. Almost instinctively, you grind down on it, letting another pathetic sound slip past your lips.

Hongjoong’s eyes glint with wicked delight at your reaction, his own hands reaching out to cup your breasts. “Someone’s eager,” he teases, tweaking a nipple between two fingers.

You hear a few wolf whistles from the crowd, a few lewd comments being thrown your way, but they only make you more excited.

“I…” You’re panting heavily, making it hard for you to speak. You have to take a deep breath before trying again. “I want you. Please.”

“Anything for you, doll,” Seonghwa coos, returning his attention to your core. He pushes in one finger all the way to his knuckle with no warning and, if it weren’t for his hold on you, your legs would have buckled.

“Fuck.” The curse slips from your lips, half whimper, half moan, as he continues pumping his finger inside your wet heat.

Hongjoong lowers his head, taking one of your nipples in his mouth as he pinches and tugs at the other. You grip his shoulders for purchase as your head lolls back to rest on Seonghwa’s chest, whining at the onslaught of sensation. The feeling of Seonghwa inside of you while Hongjoong lavishes his attention on your breasts is unlike anything you have ever felt.

As Seonghwa adds another finger, Hongjoong’s lips mark a path from your breasts, to your stomach, and then lower as he sinks to his knees in front of you. He grabs your thighs, fingers digging into your skin, just as his tongue finds your clit. His tongue draws figure eights around it as Seonghwa continues to pump his fingers relentlessly inside of you.

“T-too much…” you gasp. But neither of them slow down—if anything, feeling how close you are makes them double down on their efforts. Hongjoong sucks your clit into his mouth at the same time Seonghwa adds a third finger, curling them inside of you.

Seonghwa kisses the back of your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs.

That small bit of praise is all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge, eyes rolling back as your body goes taut with pleasure. Hongjoong eagerly laps up your release, only prolonging your orgasm. Seonghwa gently removes his fingers from you and you hear rather than see when he brings them to his mouth, tasting yourself on his skin.

Hongjoong pulls back, licking his lips to clean them of your release before his trademark smirk returns. “I think it’s time for you to return the favor, precious. Don’t you think, Hwa?”

Seonghwa trails a hand down your spine, humming. “I don’t know if she can handle it.”

“I can,” you gasp, eager to please them just as they did you. “I can, I promise. Anything you want.”

You almost jump from surprise as some spectators in the crowd start yelling their vulgar suggestions as to how exactly they think you should please your partners. You’re sure if you looked at your holodeck, the live chat would be filled with similar comments as well.

Hongjoong laughs, grabbing your face in his hand. “Don’t worry about them. You can have us however you like.”

Blushing, you say, “You choose.”

His eyes light up and he immediately looks behind you to Seonghwa. Just like earlier, some sort of silent communication passes between them, and then you feel Seonghwa’s hand on the small of your back, urging you to bend over.

“Why don’t you show our Joong what that pretty mouth of yours can do while I fill you up, hm?”

You barely have enough time to nod your agreement before Hongjoong is unbuckling his belt and freeing himself of his constraints. You nearly salivate at the sight of his cock, red and wanting. He grabs your hair and pulls, tugging you forward as much as he can with Seonghwa’s bruising grip on your waist keeping you in place. Tears prick at your eyes but it’s as pleasurable as it is painful, and you take him into your mouth eagerly.

The head of Seonghwa’s cock teases your folds before he finally pushes forward into you. He starts moving at a slow, torturous pace, pulling out of you before slamming right back in. Each thrust propels you forward, forcing you to take Hongjoong deeper into your mouth. You feel so full, so used. It’s incredible.

“Look at her,” Hongjoong coos, staring down at you. “Look at how well she takes us.”

Seonghwa just groans, grinding into you so deeply that you have to choke back a moan around Hongjoong’s cock. He’s gotten quieter, his thrusts sloppier, a telltale sign that he is losing himself in his own pleasure. Meanwhile, Hongjoong’s grip tightens around your hair, guiding your head back and forth on his length. Each thrust cuts off your air supply, making you see stars.

Seonghwa’s hand snakes around to your front, fingers finding your swollen clit. You moan again, and Hongjoong echoes you as the vibrations travel up his cock.

“Shit,” he curses. “So fucking good.”

Seonghwa’s thrusts grow increasingly erratic and you hear his breath hitch; instinctively, you clench around him, and he spills into you. His release sends you spiraling into your second orgasm of the night, walls fluttering around him as you milk his cock of every drop.

Hongjoong pulls out of your mouth not long after, squeezing the base of his shaft to prevent himself from following the two of you over the edge. The second Seonghwa steps away from you, he is taking his place, forcing himself inside of you before any of the elder’s cum can drip out.

“Hongjoong,” you gasp, nearly falling forward from the force of his thrusts. Seonghwa maneuvers himself so that he can support you, holding you in his arms as Hongjoong pounds into you with bruising force.

“Gonna fill you just like Hwa did,” he growls. “Make you mine. Ours. You’re ours.”

“Can’t… can’t…” Words escape you, your mind going blank.

“Yes, you can,” Seonghwa says, stroking your hair. “You can take it. You can come for us one more time.”

His voice is comforting, but you also hear the command in his tone. You choke out a sob, nodding weakly as Hongjoong guides your hips back against him again and again. You can feel another orgasm coming on already, the coil tightening in your stomach. Seonghwa continues to murmur words of praise, stopping only to pepper kisses along your heated skin.

The coil snaps and you cry out as you come undone, Hongjoong’s cock still buried deep inside of you. His hips stutter and he curses, his warm release mixing with Seonghwa’s. He slowly pulls out and you can feel as some of their cum trickle down your thighs. You collapse against Seonghwa completely, no longer able to stand on your own two legs.

You feel light-headed and blood pounds in your ears, muffling the cheers you assume are coming from the crowd. You’re too far gone to be embarrassed, and a lazy smile tugs at your lips—the three of you surely gave them the show of a lifetime.

Suddenly, you feel heat lick at your skin, and you snap back into yourself fully, cringing away from it. Your eyes focus, and you see Hongjoong flicking a lighter open and closed, open and closed.

“There’s our girl,” he remarks. He brings the lighter to your skin again, just close enough for you to feel the heat of it without it burning you. “I think we were a bit rough with you, precious. You were totally out of it, shivering and everything.”

Seonghwa is behind you again, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. You press further against him, squirming as the heat tickles your skin.

“Back with us?” Seonghwa asks.

You nod. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

“Okay. Hongjoong—enough.”

Hongjoong stops immediately, flipping the lighter closed with a tsk. “Fine. It’s gonna get hotter in a minute anyway.”

Now that you’re focused, you finally hear the shouting and crashing coming from below. The very people who were just watching you on stage are now rioting, destroying the warehouse and everything in it. The cameras, the bar, all of your hard work—now there is just destruction, everywhere you look.

You shoot up, hurriedly dressing yourself so that you are no longer the only one naked as panic begins to take hold. “What’s going on? Seonghwa, Hongjoong, we need to—”

You waver on your feet, nearly tripping. Luckily, Seonghwa catches you. “Calm down, it’s okay,” he says, hushing you. “This is all part of the plan.”

Hongjoong gestures to the crowd, pointing out some things you missed. “See how some of them are drenching the place with gasoline? We’re gonna light it up.”

Maybe you’re still delirious from your multiple orgasms, but you are having trouble understanding what the two of them mean. “Why? I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

“This was all a distraction,” Seonghwa explains. “The club, the livestream, us putting on a show. We did it so that all eyes would be on us, and all the badges would be wasting their resources trying to find our location.”

You nod slowly as the pieces begin to come together. “So, while I was setting all of this up…”

“We were out there. Planting bombs at some of the biggest tech headquarters in the city.” Hongjoong smiles, spreading his arms wide. “Our coup de grâce, just like we’ve been saying.”

Despite all of your suspicions, this is something you never would have been able to guess. Before you can even begin to truly comprehend the magnitude of what they’ve done, sirens pierce the air. Everyone screams and begins to run out of the warehouse. Seonghwa grabs your hand, and nods to Hongjoong. “Now!”

Hongjoong throws his lighter to the ground below and flames erupt instantly, devouring everything in sight. Luckily, most of the crowd has already escaped, and you feel confident no one should get caught in the aftermath. Still, it’s pandemonium, and smoke fills your lungs as Seonghwa pulls you closer, shielding you with his body as he hurries toward the nearest exit.

Hongjoong follows after you, but lags behind as he keeps looking over his shoulder at the fire with a sadistic grin on his face. “That’s how we do it,” he yells, voice barely audible over the blaze.

“Get yourself together,” Seonghwa barks. “We need to get out of here before the cops realize what’s going on and find us.”

Suddenly, Hongjoong trips, his foot catching on some loose debris. Seonghwa reacts instantly, yanking him back to his feet and throwing an arm around his waist. The three of you continue onward as the heat of the fire licks at your back. You crash through one of the exit doors, and stumble away into the night, disappearing into the sea of masked faces.

All across the nation, devices light up with the same headline: “City in Chaos as Blazing Inferno Distracts from Large-Scale Bombing of Tech Giants.”

“Nation-wide manhunt underway. Suspects Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa believed to be connected to an underground criminal group called The Black Pirates…”

NETWORKS: @cromernet @kflixnet @pirateeznet

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie @nebulousbrainsoup @ad0rechuu @sanniesbunnie @seonghwaddict @fruitcakebin @kickti @abby-grace @fireseo @yunhofingers @ohflorah @oiminho @baekbao @byuntrash101 @hyukssunflower @thatnerdytomboy @straykidsholicleigh

514 notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 10 months

Text

The Thought of You Leaves Me Weak 🎰

Chapter 2 of That's What You Get

Prev Chapter || Next Chapter

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive.

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: Pushing through your hangovers, you and Spencer retrace your steps from the night before to see if your shotgun Vegas marriage is legal - and find out some extra personal things along the way.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, author has a pronounced disinterest in the reality of getting an annulment for a Vegas wedding.

A/N: We're here! Part two! We're still stuck in Vegas for now, but they'll be back to their new normal soon, and now they have a time limit~ Thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented on and signed up for the series taglist from my first post, I hope you all enjoy part two just as much!! Let me know what you think in the comments or over an ask, I'll be replying all weekend :) Here's the taglist link for anyone else who wants to sign up!

Requests are open as well, and you can find some more of my work in my masterlist.

After the initial shock wore off, and the hangover was left to permeate a bit, you and Spencer remembered you were actually FBI agents and had the ability to do something about your predicament.

“I should probably head off to my own room now,” you said pulling yourself out of Spencer’s arms. “Freshen up a bit before we head out to see what’s going on.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He nodded, then continued. “You know our first stop should probably be the Marriage License Bureau of Las Vegas. If we are legally married, we’d have had to have obtained a marriage licence between 8am and 12am yesterday, they don’t open later than that.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You nodded to him, “Would they even have served us the marriage licence if we were as intoxicated as I think we were?”

“This is Vegas, Y/N. All we’d need is a valid form of ID and to be willing, and we’d have to have been carrying the ID to get into the bars.” You raked a hand through your hair. Of course you had to get married in a shotgun ceremony in the only state where it probably didn’t matter what your alcohol intake had been.

“Well, we were obviously both willing.” You say, gesturing to the bed, and then curse yourself inwardly as you see the downturned look on Reid’s face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right, I wouldn’t have handcuffed you without at least verbal consent.” He replied, pulling a shirt on finally.

“Right,” you let that revelation sit between the two of you, as he turns his back, continuing to get himself ready for the rest of the day. If you were honest with yourself, you’d have admitted to always having an attraction to your coworker, but nothing you’d solidly act on. Yeah, he was beautiful, and you’d enjoyed joining in the teasing everytime Morgan had called him a pretty boy, because he was. But you’d never let your thoughts drift to what he might be like in bed, and now you were regretting that because you had nothing to base your theories of the last night on except that you’d woken up in handcuffs.

Really, if someone had asked you the question about what you could possibly expect from Spencer Reid in the bedroom, the furthest you’d be able to imagine was some incredibly professional, missionary sex. If you thought a little harder, you’d remember that the man had once highlighted his distinct lack of “alpha-male” qualities on a case once, so, really, if anyone was going to be locked up in handcuffs, surely it would’ve been him.

You try to shake that mental picture from your head, but doing so just aggravates your headache, so you have to sit with the image of Spencer Reid tying you up and making you beg.

“You okay, Y/N? You look a bit pale,” he looks a little bit concerned for you when he finally turns back, and you can only imagine the look on your face if you’re eliciting that much concern.

“Yeah, yeah, totally fine, nothing’s wrong. Why are you asking?” you stutter out.

“Because you said you were going to shower five minutes ago, and you haven’t really moved all that much in that time.” You curse yourself again, and you force yourself out of your head.

“Oh! Yeah!” you move off towards the door, grabbing everything you’ve left in a trail to the door, retracing your steps from the night before. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in like twenty minutes?” You didn’t even wait for his reply before pushing the door open and sprinting to your room, not even caring that you hadn’t put your shoes on.

–X–

If you couldn’t be trusted to make simple choices when drunk, such as the choice to not be married to your coworker, you probably also couldn’t be trusted to make simple choices when hungover, such as a place to meet your now husband where the rest of your friends wouldn’t see you in your post-sex haze from the night before.

Which is how you found yourself cowering behind a plant in the lobby desperate to avoid being spotted by Agents Rossi and Hotchner who apparently were up and in suits for some godforsaken reason. You tried to get Reid on the phone, but he wasn’t picking up, and you had a flash of him asking you how to put his phone on silent mode from the night before hit you like a tonne of bricks.

“Shit, shit.” Nothing else useful came out of you though, so behind the plant you were waiting for them to approach the elevators so you could continue as planned. While you were in the bathroom, you’d finally noticed the blooming bruises running up the length of your neck, and you found yourself slightly impressed by Reid once again.

He’d managed to tie you up but still pay that much attention to you, and you were equal parts cursing him and desperately hoping the memories would come back to see just what other secrets he was hiding behind that unassuming frame. With the lack of contraception, you really couldn’t be sure that the two of you had had sex in the traditional sense, but you certainly seemed to have had some fun last night, and not being able to remember drove you insane.

Thankfully, the two agents made their way to the elevator without noticing you, and you let out a breath of relief as soon as the elevator dinged, ready to take them as far away from you as you needed. Unfortunately, once again, anytime fate dealt you one good hand, it followed it up with the worst ever, and as the elevator doors opened, there was Reid. You made a mental note to check your bank balance after this, sure that if you had ended up gambling with Reid, you’d most likely bankrupted yourself with this luck.

“Reid, good morning,” Hotch greeted him, and even from your unconventional perch, you could hear the panic in the younger man's voice as he began struggling for excuses to answer questions that hadn’t even been asked yet.

“Hotchner, Rossi, what are you doing here? Well I know what you’re doing here, you’re waiting for an elevator, and I know what you’re doing in the hotel because we’re all here in the hotel, but I mean what are you doing? In general?” It was almost as if he were asking himself that question at the end, trying to work out why the words were even leaving his mouth.

You couldn’t swoop in and save him without the others seeing your new necklace of hickeys and handprints, so you just had to watch him combust adorably in front of the two seasoned FBI Agents.

“Calm down, kid, don’t pull a muscle in that brain of yours, it’s a highly valuable FBI asset.” Rossi joked with him as they switched places, Rossi and Hotch going into the elevator and Reid slinking out.

“Dave and I just finished breakfast. I’m afraid you may have just missed it, Spencer, but there’s a buffet on the third floor that’s supposedly open all day.” Hotch said.

“Actually, I think food isn’t a great idea for me right now.”

“Oh, wild night, kid? No, wait, let me guess, you tracked down a Star Wars convention?”

“I’m more of a fan of Star Trek myself, you know the technology they appeared to have on screen in the show is really fascinating in that it’s-”

“Oh, how unfortunate, door’s closing. See you later, kid.” You breathed a sigh of relief as you watched the elevator climb up to the higher floors of the accommodation and left your perching spot.

“Spencer, over here.” You waved to him a little, and he turned to the sound of your voice, visually relaxing the moment he set his eyes on you.

“You don’t think they noticed I’m acting weird, right?”

“Reid, everytime you mention anything remotely pop-culture-y to Rossi he does his best to erase the conversation from his brain, okay? And Hotch looks like he hasn't slept in a decade. I’m sure they didn’t notice anything.”

“What? I thought Rossi loved our talks, he always says that I’m a riveting conversationalist.”

You just nodded along with him and patted his arm pitifully, leading him out of the lobby and into the waiting streets of Las Vegas, Nevada.

–X–

Twenty minutes later, you were sitting outside of the Marriage License Bureau, waiting to see if your fate was sealed.

“Okay, so what’s our strategy?” you asked, removing your seatbelt and moved to open your door, jumping out of the SUV you’d commandeered from the parking garage.

“Strategy? Why do we need a strategy?” Reid joined you quickly, exiting from the passenger side, satchel in hand.

“Well, I mean, what are we going to ask them, what are we going to do when we’ve found out if this is real or a hoax or not.”

“Y/N, I think you’re overthinking this. This is Nevada, I’m sure they’re used to any questions we might have.” You took a deep breath looking at the doors of the building and tried to rationalise your thoughts. You were going to be fine, it’s just a marriage, nothing too big.

Pushing the doors open, you were floored by the sheer amount of couples on the premises.

“Shit.” You’d cursed more in the last four hours than you had in the last year, almost beginning to worry that it was becoming a habit.

“Please take a number and wait for your turn to be called, our current waiting time is three and a half hours. If you leave the premises at any point, your place will be forfeited,” a bored looking worker with a small microphone called over the crowd as you entered.

“Hi, sorry, is there a help desk of some kind?” you approached and asked her, a sinking feeling growing in your gut. “We just need to see if our wedding licence is valid.”

“Then please take a ticket, and we’ll see you soon.” The other woman replied, frustratingly monotone.

“No, you don’t understand, we’re leaving the state in three hours, we can’t just sit around, we need answers now, legal advice, something.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but if you continue to speak to our staff members in that aggressive way, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises,” another member of staff now joined the first.

“Aggressive? I am not aggressive,” you said but you could hear the agitation in your own voice, and the tightness in your shoulders.

“What she means to say,” said Reid from behind you, dropping a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Is that we are FBI agents, leaving town on another case soon, and we would really appreciate your cooperation? I have our marriage licence here. If you could just look over it, it’d only take a few seconds of your time.” The tension rolled off of you in waves, and you melted into his touch as he gladly stepped up to continue your communication.

“Okay, yeah, that definitely seems like a legit licence. You FBI agents, you say?” the first woman questions you, and not trusting yourself not to reply passive aggressively and ruin her cooperative mood, you bite your tongue and just nod.

“My coworker who worked the graveyard shift yesterday mentioned we had a few of you come through. Congratulations on your marriage.” She handed the licence back to you and the pit in the bottom of your stomach grew.

“Is your colleague still here? We just had a few questions about some logistics. We’re out of state, you know?” Reid smiled and you were so thankful for him, for the comforting hand he’d trailed down your shoulder and rested at the small of your back as you stood fidgeting next to him. It took you a minute to realise you were playing with your new wedding ring, already so used to it being there on your finger that you hardly noticed its presence.

“Her next shift starts at 12, but if you’re as desperate for information as I think you are, I’ll have her come see you when she comes in. She’s usually five minutes early anyways.” Reid thanked the woman, and fifteen minutes later, a younger woman with a bright smile was greeting you in the lobby and leading you to a private room in the back.

“Doctor and Mrs. Reid, welcome back! Sandy said you had some follow up questions after yesterday?” she greeted you, and your head started pounding again.

“You remember us?” Reid asked, the confusion knitting his brow as he walked ahead of you.

“I don’t tend to forget husbands as handsome and romantic as you, Doctor.” Something flared in your gut then, anger or protectiveness, but it felt green and red, and you pulled Reid’s hand into your own as she guided you to sit at the table at the far side of the room.

“We’re looking to fill in some gaps in our memory from last night,” you spoke, now not caring to hold back any annoyance in your voice. This woman had written out your marriage licence and yet here she was flirting with your husband. With your Reid. With Reid. Again, the curses jumped to your tongue.

“Ah, I see. One of those.” She shot a smile at Reid, and you shot a look at him as well, but he looked oblivious at her interest and you caught yourself letting out a sigh of relief before turning back to the woman.

“You didn’t realise we were drunk?” you asked her.

“Oh no, we realised. We just assumed you were finally taking the plunge after everything you said. And everything you did, too.”

“Everything we did?” you pushed out, your voice ten times higher than usual. You coughed to make it seem like your throat was just dry, not also housing your entire heart.

“You don’t remember? You two looked so in love. You were all over each other, kissing, touching, whispering and giggling. Honestly, it was just nice to have a couple in love here at 11pm that weren’t trying to have sex in the waiting area.” The blush crept up your neck, and you tried your best to force it back down. Obviously, it didn’t work.

You were about to ask another question, probably about how you would go about getting an annulment, when she finally continued.

“And then when you got the licence you were so happy and you called your friends to come and celebrate with you. You asked for the nearest chapel and we have all that information out in the hall and you said your friends were going to come meet you, so you took off.” She shrugged a little, taking a swig from her coffee. You couldn’t help but feel that even after all of that, she was still eyeing up Spencer, so you squeezed his hand a little bit harder at that, your other hand gravitating to his bicep too, your entire body leaning into his.

“Friends?” Spencer was the first one to wake up to that statement, and your agitation reached its peak.

“Yeah, the two teammates you mentioned. You told everyone they were meeting you at the chapel, that you’d all been here working a case and they were the two that responded to your calls that night.”

“Did we mention any names?” you asked.

“No, just that they were FBI Agents. Is there something wrong?”

–X–

You threw the doors of the building open as you gasped for air, the panic fully setting in now.

“Y/N, wait,” Spencer yelled after you, following you onto the pavement. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you tugged on your hair, mindlessly fretting with it, unconscious to the pain. He finally reached you and pulled your hands into his, forcing you to look up into his eyes.

“Y/N, it’s fine. We’re going to be fine.” He soothed you quickly, and you hiccuped through the small sobs you were now letting out.

“Spencer, two of our friends know that we got married last night, and we don’t know who or how much they know, and now we know that our marriage is legal and you’re stuck with me and I got us into all this mess because I’m an adult who doesn’t want to tell her mom to back off.” By the end of your speech he was cradling your head in his hands, as your tears flowed down your face in messy trails.

“Hey, look at me. You told me this morning that this was not my fault, and I’m telling you now that that doesn't mean it's yours. We’re in this together, okay?” he waited for you to nod before continuing. “Besides, no matter who it was, our team mates love us. They’ll understand.”

“What if we get reassigned? This is a conflict of interests, right, me and you working together like this?” You’d worked so hard to be accepted into the BAU, you didn’t want to let this be your exit, and you sure as hell weren’t letting them fire Spencer for it.

“We’ll talk to Hotch and Rossi, they don't want to lose either of us, and if we get this dealt with quick enough, maybe we won't even have to report it. We could keep it quiet for a while, right?” You knew all of his words made sense, they were the best course of action for the two of you. He’d probably run all of the scenarios through his head while you showered this morning, which is why he was so level-headed. But there was a discomfort that you just couldn’t shake.

“You mean we could get this…annulled?” you asked cautiously, looking into his eyes to gauge his reaction.

“If you want, we can walk right back in there and have it done soon, I’m sure that employee would help us, she seemed friendly-”

“No.” You practically shouted, not wanting to come face to face with that woman again, and watch her flirt with Reid as he signed the annulment paperwork. “I mean, there’s no time, right? We should probably head to the chapel to figure out who our witnesses are and then we’re heading back to Quantico.” You did to rationalise your decision, praying that the jealousy (jealousy?) that you felt didn’t show in your voice or face.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Well, we have 21 days from now to file, before the annulment period passes and we’re looking at divorce, which is not favourable for either of us, but we can file from out of state.” You nodded along with his words, glad for the lack of questioning, and that he didn’t clock the hopeful glint to your eye.

“Okay, great. Yeah.” You had calmed down enough now for your proximity to become awkward, and Reid noticed as soon as you did, pulling his hands away from you and taking a step back. Maybe it was the hangover, or just the overwhelming series of emotions you’d been through successively, but it felt wrong suddenly having him so far from you. Shaking it off, you grabbed your keys out of your pocket.

“She said we picked up the information about the chapel from the lobby, right? Can we narrow down which one it is with the photo?” You suggested, suddenly not able to meet his eyes.

“Oh, right, yeah. We’d have had to have been able to get there on foot, too. I’ll go and ask them if they recognise which one it is,” he made to move back in, but you shouted a resounding ‘no�� before he could take another step.

“I’ll do it! I should probably apologise for earlier anyway, right?” you chuckled awkwardly, pushing the doors open and leaving him behind with that confused look set against his skin once again.

–X–

“I’m telling you, we delete the footage from the previous day at noon, I can’t help you.” You’d tracked down the chapel pretty quickly despite all of your options, and now found yourself arguing with a pretty lackluster Elvis impersonator, desperate to figure out any more details about the night before.

“What about staff members that could verify? We just need a vague description.”

“Everyone’s a part-timer here, lady. The people on shift today won't be back for another two days or so. Come back then, okay?” He showed you to the door then, and if you hadn’t gotten drunk and married in Vegas the night before, this would certainly have been your lowest moment.

“Nothing?” Reid asked from his perch on the car.

“They delete the security footage.” You signed in frustration, and he showed a sympathetic smile on his face.

“How do you want to play it, then?” he asked. “Two of them are already going to know, should we just come clean to the entire team, see if they could help?”

“No, god no. As much as it’s my current reality, I don’t really want to have to respond to Mrs. Reid until Morgan gets new material, and no one’s going to be this easy of a target any time soon.”

“Technically speaking, you’d have to apply for a legal name change to become Mrs. Reid, usually couples do it a few days either side of the wedding and start the process of updating all their legal IDs so they can travel internationally for honeymoons without anyone asking questions.”

“Not the point, Reid.”

“And I knew that. Sorry.” It was hard to stay annoyed at him with that small smile stretched across his lips, and you suddenly found yourself wondering just exactly how he'd felt against you.

You’d kissed at the chapel, at the wedding licence office, in his hotel room, and you couldn’t for the life of you remember if you’d been the one to lean in first, or if it’d been him, or if it’d been both of you and what that meant. Did he like you, did you subconsciously want him in this way? Did this even mean anything? And what had those handcuffs been about?

He couldn’t answer most of those questions, and honestly, you weren’t sure you wanted the answers, but it’d been a day of awkward conversations, so you thought you might as well let your curiosity rule you for a few more minutes.

“Spencer, would you mind me asking a personal question?”

“Sure, we are married now. Don’t they say that the number one thing to remember in marriage is communication?” He tried to joke, but you couldn’t laugh as you got ready to spit some of the most horrific words you’d ever strung together out.

“Spencer, do you…do you often use handcuffs? In bed, I mean?” you were bright red, stood outside a 24 hour wedding chapel in the heart of Vegas and you couldn’t believe this was your life.

“Oh.” He was the same shade of red as you, and he stuttered through his next few incoherent words before you found his reply.

“I’ve not done it with the handcuffs before, but I guess I’ve…thought about it? It’s definitely in line with my… Do we have to do this here?”

“Would you rather talk about this on the jet?”

“Do we have to do this at all?” He groaned, shutting his eyes and you could feel the horror at his own actions spreading through his body.

“We are married now. Communication is key, remember?” He sighed and acquiesced, running a hand through his hair before turning back to you and forcing the words out.

“I know you probably didn’t think this about me before, but I am pretty controlling in bed. I don’t like feeling… hopeless, and it just manifests as dominance, okay? It’s been a while since I had a partner though, so the handcuffs were new to me, but I’ve tied girls up before. Now can we stop this conversation here before someone on this very public street hears us?”

“Okay, yeah sure. That actually makes a lot of sense really.” You said, nodding and moving to get into the car. You tried to keep your thoughts to yourself, knowing that the knowledge of his preferences was going to plague your dreams for the next few nights.

“You don’t have to lie, Y/N, I know I don’t seem like the type.” He got into the passenger side next to you, and you ignored looking at him in the mirrors desperately as you started the engine and made your way back to the hotel.

“No, I mean it makes sense that it happened to us. I don’t think we would’ve ended up in bed together if we weren’t so… compatible.” You let the silence sit between you as you let him take in your words, driving to the orchestra of midday strip traffic.

“Oh.” He said. “Oooh.” He finally caught on, and you felt your head turning in his direction, but you forced it back towards the road, convincing yourself that you really didn’t need to see his reaction, to study his expressions.

“Well, at least we know that we both enjoyed it then.” You weren’t sure if he was just oblivious, or trying to get a reaction from you, but nonetheless, your heart clenched at that, excitement rising in your stomach.

You convinced yourself that it was probably just the alcohol, and drove in silence back to the hotel, ready for your departure.

--X--

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @bluecandycake @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @daddy-dotcom @zaapsite @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @kapeyama @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @sharkcat1928 @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @alyssaxstan @ghostheartbeat @zada-quinn @beguiling3lavender @Casss2111 @zatannas-wand @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @kspencer34 @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk

1K notes · View notes

mokulule · 5 months

Text

A Pinch of Salt - Part 4

First | Masterpost

The final part of the first installment of the Salt in the Bones series which is a project co-created with @clockwayswrites, you can see the other stuff written for it in the masterpost link above or go to the first part.

John looked at the kid, who just stepped inside the fucking binding circle. His mouth fell open in shock.

“What is wrong with you!?” It wasn’t so much a question as it was an exclamation, and John didn’t wait for any answer. “Of all the sodding, daft, goddamn tossers - what were you bloody thinking? No, you weren’t thinking. Otherwise you wouldn’t have fucking done that. You DO NOT go into the blasted circle!”

“Are you done?”

“Am I-“ John spluttered.

Are you done? He asked, as if John was the unreasonable one here! “Oh you’re right chuffed, aren’t you mate? Well, you cocked up, you’re about to be banished right alongside the storm, you little git!”

“Then stop the banishing or banish us both. It’s your choice.” Kid stood, back straight, jaw clenched stubbornly and a frown over those wide blue eyes. His hair and clothes whipped violently from the storm, but he didn’t care, just kept his eyes on John.

John raised his hands in frustration, words dying on his tongue. It would serve him right!

It would serve him right; he stepped into the bloody circle. It wasn’t John’s fault. Everything was going fine for once and maybe that should have been John’s warning. Whatever was up with the kid he apparently had a soft spot for ghosts - even after John had told him several times that the spirit was gone. It’d gone nova. No coming back. The end. It would continue it’s rampage until it burned out. It would hurt and destroy indiscriminately.

And yet he still-

It would serve him right to get sent to Hell alongside it. It wouldn’t even be the first time someone John worked with got sent to Hell for their trouble. John Constantine was bad luck for everyone around him. It happened.

But it was different when John held the reins of the spell that did it, when he had the choice to stop it.

Still John was at his wits end. If he stopped the banishing, the kid was still trapped in the circle with the spectral storm. If he broke the circle they were back at square one except they were in the center of the storm’s power and it was even angrier.

It was easier, safer, to just continue the banishing. Kid had made his stupid arse decision. John wasn’t a good person. He did what was necessary. Ends and means and all that.

But he was a bloody kid - a teenager - they were basically obligated to do stupid shit. Didn’t mean he deserved to get sent to Hell for it. John had seen and done a lot of shit, but when it came right down to it he didn’t want to add sending a kid to Hell.

John had seen enough dead kids to last him a lifetime.

“Oh bollocks.” John let his arms fall and cut the feed to the banishing spell, wincing slightly at the backlash. “You better have a plan kid.”

The kid had to have some sort of abilities with that aura, maybe all hope was not lost? The kid grimaced and John’s forced optimism crumbled like so much sand.

“I-“ the kid winced as something in the storm hit the back of his head. He rubbed the spot, and looked almost apologetic, “I figured I’d try talking to them.”

John stared.

And stared.

“Or-“ the kid backtracked, “just calm them down somehow?”

“You cannot ‘calm down’ a spectral storm!” John felt like a broken record on repeat. “It’s impossible.”

He threw up his hands and walked exactly three steps away counting his breaths all the while wracking his brain for a different solution. There weren’t any good ones. Heck it was a miracle the kid hadn’t already been torn to pieces being inside the circle.

“We’re dead,” he lamented dramatically.

“Half-dead.”

John’s head snapped around at the weird response.

“I mean,” the kid tried for a smile, “I’m the only one in the circle.”  John stared in despair. The kid’s sense of humor needed serious work.

“I’m not gonna leave you in the bloody circle, kid.”

Danny stood struck wide eyed at the admission. That was- He didn’t know how to deal with that. There was a pang in his chest. He felt too open, too vulnerable. He swallowed before finding his voice.

“Just let me try something, okay?”

Danny turned around to face the center of the storm, he instantly had to squeeze his eyes near shut, from all the dust. Instinctively he took a breath and coughed. Okay breathing not good. Too bad he was human right now.

He had to get closer, closer to that screaming grief. He might be human right now, but he was also a ghost and the anger from earlier was just a thin veneer on top of grief on top of a cry for help. He felt it in his core like scrabbling hands desperately looking for purchase.

He took a step forward, hands up to shield his face, pushing against the wind. Another step. Then another.

How was he gonna calm them down?

Danny didn’t know. He knew fighting. He’d even sometimes recently had luck with talking. But this? It was way beyond talking, until they were calm there would be no such thing. Danny didn’t know what to do. He could only press on and hope an idea came to him.

The grief was stronger the closer he got to the center, it tore into him. Tears trickled down his cheeks and turned into gunk from the dust. Something sharp cut into his bare arms. Danny frowned, kept his head down and pushed forward.

Another step and the grief sunk sharp claws into his core. He screamed clutching his chest and gasping for breath that would do nothing. But the claws were gone as soon as they’d come, retreated as if they’d touched fire.

“Are you alright kid?!”

Danny spared a quick glance back to Trenchcoat who stood all the way up to the edge of the circle, face white as if he’d seen a ghost. Danny couldn’t help smiling at that. Something that alarmed Trenchcoat even further.

“I’m breaking the circle.”

“Don’t,” Danny coughed clearing his throat.

Danny looked back up, squinting through the swirling dust. It may not be visible, but something had changed. There was still the anger and grief, but something else too. A sense of waiting. Waiting to see what Danny would do. They had tried tearing him, the trespasser, apart down to his core, but in doing so they had felt him. They had felt his intention to help and retreated.

Trenchcoat was wrong, there was still a sentience there. Danny found himself grinning in triumph.

But even better Danny had an idea. His core vibrated giddily in his chest. He was a bit sore, but otherwise none the worse for wear. He just needed to reach out and connect with the ghost, he felt sure he could calm them. He just he needed a distraction, he didn’t need Trenchcoat to realize he was the one doing anything ghostly. He wracked his brain, something that made noise, drew attention, was maybe a bit ridiculous, but didn’t take much of his attention from the real work-

That was it!

“Twinkle-“ his voice broke on the first word but gained strength as he continued- “twinkle little star,” Danny sang. He didn’t need to look back to see the incredulous look on Trenchcoat’s face.

He kept singing, he knew that song by heart. His mom used to sing it to him, back when she actually put him to bed. There was a stab of melancholy, but Danny clutched on to the positive aspect of the memory and reached out with his core, its hum getting stronger.

It’s okay, he told the ghost, help. Safe. Peace. Calm.

He took step by step further into the calming storm. And all the while he sung them a lullaby.

John stared.

Then he stared some more. He was doing a lot of staring today.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, what he was hearing.

The kid was was singing a lullaby to the spectral storm. And that wasn’t even the most baffling thing. No, the kid was singing a lullaby to the spectral storm and it was bloody working.

The storm gradually calmed until suddenly it was gone. The silence was loud in the sudden emotional void. John staggered from the sudden lack of pressure. All that malice gone in an instant. All that was left was a gently cupped ball of light in the kids hands.

“There you are,” the kid said softly in a slightly scratchy voice.

John couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. It was impossible and yet here they were.

There was a flash of light and suddenly they stood in a house. Built brick by brick by two pairs of hands. Children ran through the rooms. They grew up. They had kids of their own, who had kids of their own. They lived and they loved and they were protected.

Then they were gone.

The door shut for the last time. The house was empty.

A large metal ball slammed through the walls, spreading dust and splintering the doorframe that had measured the growth of generations. It was torn down.

It had stood here, right in what would be the plaza.

The translucent shade of an old women, bent and bony from a life of hard work, hovered in front of the kid. She warbled sadly at him. John couldn’t understand anything but the deep sadness, but it seemed the kid did.

“It’s okay,” he said embracing the spirit, somehow managing to do so despite her definitely not being solid. “You’ve done your best, nobody could ask more of you.”

He paused and his voice softened further, “it’s time to let go.”

The old lady looked over at John and gave him a stern look that had him frozen in place. She was the type of grandma that would wack his fingers if she caught him going for the cookie jar. He wasn’t entirely sure what the look he got meant. Only that it felt like an admonishment.

She looked back on the kid and her features softened, smoothed and in the next moment she turned to mist in his arms, dispersing in the waning light coming from the overhead windows.

John couldn’t entirely believe what he’d just witnessed. Calling a spirit back once they’d gone nova, it was impossible. Unheard of. Banishment was how you dealt with spirits like that. It was a tried and tested method. Yet-

John shivered.

Death magic. It was the only explanation.

The kid reeked of it, to the point John had thought he was the ghost he was here to deal with. He’d thought he was some kind of creature, but he was just a kid. A kid with a very specific magical affinity who’d just done the impossible. He was filled with a sense of awe and dread he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He felt shaken. Like he’d stood right next to a bell who’d been rung to herald change.

John was no prophet, at most he’d get vague premonitions and he far preferred to be in the moment rather then dwell on the future or the past. He most definitely did not want to even contemplate this kid’s future. He swallowed.

Magic, in John’s experience, always came with a cost.

The kid promptly sat down on his butt. John had broken the circle and was running over before he even realized.

“You okay, kid?” He asked breathlessly.

The kid looked up, eyes a bit dazed as he blinked at John. John couldn’t really tell if his complexion was grey or it was just the dust covering every inch of him. Several places, particularly his hands, the dust was dark from blood where he’d been cut in the storm. He looked unfocused.

“How many occult detectives are you seeing?” He asked unable to hide the note of worry.

“Too many,” Kid said tiredly with a shake of his head that had cement dust falling all over. Then he looked back up and elaborated with a smirk, “one.”

John huffed a laugh. If he could joke he couldn’t be that bad off.

“How does burgers and fries sound?”

The kid now dusted off to the point where you could almost tell his hair was black rather than grey sunk his teeth into the burger with a pleased hum. He chewed and swallowed.

“This is almost as good as Nasty Burger.”

John paused fry halfway to his mouth. “That sounds disgusting.”

Kid laughed. “I forget how it sounds to outsiders. It used to be Tasty Burger way back when they first opened, but someone vandalized the sign and it kinda stuck.”

John hummed thoughtfully, he could appreciate the joke. Kid’s use of the phrase outsiders made it sound like he came from an insular town. Probably best for him if he stayed there.

“What’s your name, kid?”

Instantly the blue eyes narrowed on him in suspicion.

“What’s yours, Trenchcoat?” He challenged.

John huffed at the nickname and reached a hand across the table. “John Constantine.”

The kid looked suspiciously at the offered hand, then reached out and took it. “Nightingale.”

John nodded and shook his hand before letting go. Smart of him to give him a codename, he wasn’t apparently completely without sense. “Because of the singing.”

For a moment the kid looked confused to the point where John actually thought maybe he’d given him his real name.

“Singing? Ah-“ He blushed looking down and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “No, that just seemed like a good idea at the time.”

John shook his head, fuck it if he didn’t like the kid. He picked up his milkshake and raised it. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“If it works…”

The kid, Nightingale, grinned ferally and raised his own shake to clink it against John’s.  “If it works.”

After filling up the near bottomless stomach of the teenager, they parted ways in an alley. John’s mind was already on his next case - people going missing in a forest in Germany that had a distinct this-is-not-just-a-GPS-dead-zone flavor to it - so he only absently noted the strange look on the kid’s face when he opened the portal. It was morning in Germany, he could start looking into things before calling the House for a proper sleep.

“Take care, kid.”

With those words he stepped into the portal and let it close behind him.

Danny was left looking at the portal. He shook his head, jaw tight. With real magic apparently portals were just easy. It didn’t do him any good to think about. He glanced around and when he found the alley just as empty as before he jumped into the air transforming as he went.

There were better things to think about, like the concept of an occult detective, he thought as he flew in the direction of Amity. It sounded like it could almost be an acceptable profession in his parents’ eyes.

And it probably didn’t require good high school grades either, he thought with a grimace as he remembered he had an essay due tomorrow.

Hope you enjoyed this story which explored how Danny and Constantine first met in this AU. Next step is letting it sit for a while, then do a thorough editing and putting it up on ao3 as a oneshot. (And then maybe talk to Clock about starting writing on the main story proper? We'll see). Comments are greatly appreciated :D

Another link to the masterpost if you wanna see the other bits of writing and/or subscribe to the series

#a pinch of salt #salt in the bones #danny and constantine #dysfunctional found family FTW #dp x dc

524 notes · View notes

mamayan · 8 months

Text

🎃 Happy Halloween 🎃

Shigaraki Tomura x Fem! Reader

Good girls should just stay home, lest something goes bump in the night.

cw: NSFW • Implied Murder • Implied Serial Killer • Consensual Non-Consent turned Non-Consensual • Noncon • Dubcon • Abuse • Fingering (F) • Oral (M) • Deep Throating • Rough Sex • Attempted Murder • Hair Pulling • Degradation/Slight Humiliation • Dacryphilia • Yandere Themes • Kidnapping • a little OOC • This story possessed me and basically wrote itself • Barely proof read tbh

wc: 7k+

Something must be wrong with you.

Or at least, that’s what you imagine the world would think if anyone knew what you were doing.

The room was dark aside from the blue glow of your computer screen. The black web browser with red lettering almost ominous as your eyes scanned the consent form again. It was a consent form just to access the full website, on the surface serving only as a dating type of situation for the BDSM community. Beneath it though were layers deeper than what the simple description actually provided. You only found out about it through a deep dive into multiple sub-threads of Reddit. It was a basket case of crazy, the majority of information or advice, but you managed to dig up one reliable looking source.

This website you were currently on. L@ce&R0pe.com happened to provide a wide variety of goodies, from sex toys to actual published books on shibari, there wasn’t much you couldn’t find. Except like all websites not swallowed up by the deep web, there was never any section like the one you wanted so desperately.

Except this one, because your mouse didn’t hesitate to shift and hover over the drop down section for MEET, where you could link up with real people for whatever your heart desired really. You trailed down to NEW FRIEND, and clicked. A new tab opened, this one themed differently than the main website. It was light blue and pink, almost like a baby shower, except the only thing on the page was a single drop down menu, and clicking it made your head ache. There were thousands of options, but thankfully it was organized alphabetically, so you could easily scroll mindlessly until you hit the C section.

You found what you wanted, clicking it as your chosen option and hitting GO.

The screen changed, this time it looked similar to a dating profile fillable. You worked quickly, efficiently even, as you typed all your information in.

Not your name or address, nothing silly like that. Just your measurements, your favorite foods or beverages, the color of your eyes, your hair color, your height, and even the style of your nails. It asked if you liked to brush your hair everyday, how often you showered, what shampoo or body wash you like. You answered them all, as invasive as they soon became, you never wavered. What brand of deodorant do you use? How often do you clip or file your nails? To what length? Do you shave your pubic area? How often? What style? How many sexual partners have you had? Where have you had sex? Which hole do you prefer? Are you a crier or a screamer? Does blood turn you on? Do you like physical or mental pain more? Have you ever been raped before?

They got more personal and physiological as you answered. You felt hot and stuffy despite the window being open and the cool autumn air blowing in. You kept answering even as your throat got tighter and unease nestled into your clavicle.

Do you want to know who your new friend will be?

This time you do hesitate. Knowing would make it feel safer. Knowing would give you some semblance of control. Knowing would be the smart choice.

You clicked “no” and submitted the form, sealing your fate as your hands shook and adrenaline pumped through your veins.

You set the date for October 31st. Now all you had to do was wait and show up.

A notification hit his phone, lighting up the screen as cigarette smoke billowed around him in the back alley. A quick glance was all he needed to unlock and fully see the entire screen. The leather of his jacket rubbed against the brick he leaned against.

Halloween was probably the best time for such fun, crime rates skyrocketing and parties being loud and wild really left a big gaping hole for any type of heinous activity to occur. He grinned as the information poured onto his screen. His dick already becoming painfully hard as he read all your supplied information. You liked breath play, having someone spit in your mouth, even being slapped around. He was always amazed by the lack of shortage for sick freaks like you, but then again, he was one of them too. Licking his top lip, tongue piercing flicking out to rub against his cupid’s bow, he clicked “ACCEPT” on the notification. He had all your information, the when and where, and your adorable little comment of “Please don’t degrade me.” What more could he ask for? His smile is sinister in the low light off the neon sign of the bar, casting a purplish hue on his skin as he chuckles and shoves his phone away. Flicking his cigarette butt onto the dirty ground, he cracked his neck and knuckles before going back inside to finish his beer and round of pool with his friends.

He’ll see you on Halloween. He might even dress up a little for the occasion.

It’s cold.

It’s nearly November so you hadn’t expected warm weather necessarily, but it seemed chillier than usual despite your fairly insulated dress.

You dressed up as an angel, the irony not lost on you at all but it felt fitting almost for the occasion. The pristine white looked off in your surroundings. It was nearly midnight, but despite that the sidewalk of the park was filled with a fairly regular crowd of people passing through, on to the next party or home to sleep off all the alcohol. Really, you weren’t too out of place, in your white stockings and black heeled boots, the fluffy ruffled white babydoll dress that barely covered your ass or tits and the wings which were strapped around your shoulders and jutted out behind you. On your head was a slim clip which was attached to a white shiny halo that seemed to float above you, only a thin wire keeping it up. You’d at first felt a little exposed passing children going home for the night after trick or treating, eyes of judgemental families which you ignored boring into you, but now it was time for the adults to have fun. You’d already passed a plethora of college students or older dressed even more scantily than you, making you feel better, safer, out in the park you’d chosen. You’d chosen 0300 as your designated meetup time, but specified you’d be early in case they wanted to start sooner. So here you stood, under a streetlamp that illuminated you in a yellow glow, making you seem even more angelic despite the ominous darkness surrounding you. You were busy playing on your phone, scrolling mindlessly and trying not to appear too excited. Or scared. You figured it was a combination of both, the arousal and fear bleeding into one very specific but unnamed emotion. Tapping your boot to a rhythm only you could hear, the night drew on and another hour passed. The droves of people passing didn’t dwindle, but it was always a group, never a single individual which you hoped was your new friend. It was almost 0130 when you felt watched, goosebumps rising on your skin as you realized someone must be looking at you. A quick glance around showed no one though, and after ten minutes your hope dissolved into disappointment. It seemed your friend wasn’t an early bird.

“Hey,” a raspy, deep voice speaking almost directly into your ear, startling you enough to elicit a yelp. You turned, eyes landing on a dark clothed chest and trailing up to a hooded face you could barely make out through a mess of blue hair. His lips look a bit chapped, a small scar decorating a corner, but his teeth are white and straight as he smiles a grin that causes shivers to shoot down your spine.

…maybe your friend was an early bird, just not as much as you.

You take a step back, stuttering stupidly due to your overactive nerves and the earlier shock of his sudden appearance. “H-hi…um,” the stranger tilts his head, eyes still not visible, dark hoodie baggy on his frame. He looks a bit thin, like he wouldn’t have a lot of strength, his jeans having some strange splattering of fake blood or something on them. You lick your lips, heart ready to leap from your chest but not quite ready for the events to unfold.

Or maybe you were very ready.

“You’ve been standing here for hours,” he comments nonchalantly, hands moving to shove inside the large inner pocket on his hoodie, “Aren’t ya tired of waiting for your boyfriend?” His question is a bit confusing, and when you glance around you, it dawns that there’s no one out right now. When had the crowds dwindled to nothing? “I don’t… have a boyfriend…” you had clearly stated that online too, so he already knew the answer to your relationship status. Was he just teasing? Keeping this as realistic as possible? It made you a bit pleased. You fiddled with the ends of your cute frilly dress, exposing a small portion of your skin and garter belt which kept your thigh high socks up. His eyes tracked the motion, lips pulling up even higher making his smile menacing. Dangerous. “That so?” He asks, but it doesn’t seem like he’s too interested in a reply as he steps closer, his beat up sneakers so silent on the ground it’s a little unnerving. Since he’s playing along so much, it feels wrong for you to not reciprocate.

“What do you think you’re doing, creep? Stay back,” You hope he’s not offended by the name, figuring it wasn’t too mean or odd of a thing to call him. Your firm stance and defiant gaze make him pause, head tilting again but he’s quick to recover and laugh. It’s less of a sexy and deep chuckle like you expected, and more pitched and giggly. It’s almost creepy to hear from a grown man. Like a child from a horror movie laughing. “Creep? Yeah? Guess I am, but you know what?” His head lifts, and since he’s more centered under the tall street lamp, when he looks straight at you, two red eyes flash. “I’m a lot fucking worse than your average dumbass creep,” you jolt when he lunges at you, hand outstretched to grab you. It’s instinctive how quickly you turn and run, adrenaline helping you shoot off into the park where no light but the moon shined down. This is what you wanted, you chant to yourself to stay level headed enough to not truly panic. This was staged and as safe as possible. He’s not actually going to hurt you. You’d be fine, albeit maybe a little sore tomorrow morning. You shut your mind off and focus on running, though your speed wasn’t great in such cheap and unstable boots, roots and random objects on the ground constantly tripping you up.

You looked like the dumb girl in the horror movies, tits practically out of your low cut revealing white dress, strapless white bra damn useless and more for show than any real support or push-up. You huffed, digging in your heels when you heard a few twigs snap behind you, feet carrying you faster as you realized he was gaining on you quickly. He didn’t shout and you didn’t scream. The chase was exhilarating, your mind becoming fuzzy as your lungs burned for more oxygen. You hadn’t planned a chase, really leaving it all up to fate and your new friend, but this was perfect.

Until fingers tangled tight in your hair and yanked you completely off your feet, your shoes and legs going out in front of you as you landed gracelessly on your ass. Then an intense burning in your scalp erupts, a hiss of pain and a whine escaping as you slide over cool damp foliage, senseless grumbling coming from the stranger as he drags you into a deeper more secluded section of the park, away from any and all prying eyes. Not like anyone gave a damn. “I-it hurts!” You feel childish for crying, tears pricking your eyes but the burn was worse than you imagined truly, soft hands coming up to try and pry his fingers off.

He has a grip of iron apparently, not the least bit phased as he sighs, hauling you up and tossing you in front of him. You land weirdly on your left shoulder, a shock of pain numbing your mind as you heave for air and roll over. When you open your eyes, you’re face to face with him. His hood pulled off, shoulder length blue hair now tied back and up into a little bun while some stray pieces frame his face and forehead. Your eyes adjust to the darkness as they take him in.

He’s young, maybe early twenties, with pale skin and dark bags hugging beneath his scarlet eyes. He’s got a beauty mark just below his lip on the right side, the scar you saw earlier on the other. He’s not hard on the eyes, cute even, but the strange air around him makes the close proximity fill you with anxiety. His eyebrows are thin and sparse, but he cocks one with a smirk. “Not gonna scream for help, crybaby?” The nickname makes you realize tears are streaming down your cheeks, you blink them away quickly, shaking your head and trying to find your words again. “I—uh, do you want me to?” Wouldn't screaming just make it more likely for someone to call the police? You figured a little noise was fine, but screaming seemed counter productive.

His eyes widened a bit, confusion painting his features as he crouched down more comfortably on his haunches to get a better look at you.

He’d been watching you since you got to the park. A single party in this sort of place always sticks out like a sore thumb. You looked more ready for a porno than a costume party, from behind the view of your ass indescribably arousing in your short little dress. It was both a slutty and innocent look you pulled off well, at least enough to make him riled up, cock twitching in agreement within his pants. He shamelessly rubbed it through his jeans, caressing the hardening length and letting you watch with glee. Your face made him snort, amusement evident as he chuckles and squints. “You like this, little freak?” You looked like you did, he notes. Your wide pretty eyes, still a little teary and red at the ends, showed your blown out pupils. You looked to be more star struck, not terrified like any normal girl chased through a park and dragged into a little corner between some trees to be out of sight. He watches you swallow hard, lips parting before closing as if you aren’t sure what to say to that question. “Fuck, you’re cute,” he grins, “a cute little slut who stood out at night all alone as if begging for someone to come along and do something nasty.” You release a tiny yelp as he meanly shoves you back, straddling your upper chest with his thighs as he hunches over you, looming ominously above with wild eyes screaming for chaos. “Good thing that I came along, huh? Make all your nasty little fantasies come true.” He watches you gasp as he presses his fingers against your lips, confusion evident on your face but you aren’t really putting up much of a fight as you open and let him slide two in. “Nasty fucking girl, look at you, when you don’t even fucking know me.” He chuckles, and while he’s teasing you mostly, he is amazed. You looked erotic as hell right now, little angel costume all wrinkled and a bit dirty from the earth below, pretty face a bit stained with mascara that had run a little from your earlier tears. You weren’t wearing the waterproof kind it seemed. Lips bitten and chewed on, plump and glossy from whatever glittery shit you swiped on them earlier now wrapped around his digits as he dug around in your warm wet mouth. “Suck on them, slut,” he orders, his smile dropping and face becoming more serious as you hurry to obey, a strange trepidation building in your gut. He groans as he feels your tongue wiggle and swirl, pumping his fingers a bit now and enjoying the little bleats you release when he chokes you a bit with them. “Wonder if you’re soaked down here~” he hums, leaning back a bit and yanking his fingers from your lips, wiping the excess saliva across your cheek and huffing a laugh as your features wrinkle in distaste. His hand moves behind him, easy access to your cunt due to the frilly dress hiked up almost around your waist, revealing cute soaked white cotton panties he growls at the sight of. “You really suck at putting up a fight, crybaby, but I think I heard somewhere that girls get wet when scared too…” those red eyes flick back to your own, "You scared?” He asks, almost softly. He watches you breathe, chest struggling a bit under his weight but your hands curled into the fabric of his hoodie, not pushing him away. “A little…?” Is your shaky response, and he wonders silently if you’re an idiot or just a pervert. You might be both, because when he lets his thumb dig into where your pussy lay poorly hidden, you moan for him and spread your legs wider. You make it even easier to search for his desired location, your swollen bundle of nerves. “O-oh—!” Your head falls back, little halo becoming a bit misshapen as it gets flattened to the ground, he tsks, fixing it with his free hand as he thumbs your little clit and watches you mewl and writhe beneath him, pleasure clearly visible on your face. Your hips buck and wiggle, body pinned beneath his and unable to get away or closer like you desperately want for more friction than he’s providing. “P-please,” you can’t help but beg, hoping your new friend is merciful enough to make you cum and not simply edge you all night.

It’s the pouty expression which makes him nearly feral, his grin spreading wide again as he keeps working his finger on your clit but his face closes the distance between your own. His lips just barely graze yours, and you are all too happy to part your lips and give him a sloppy kiss back, his own tongue finally slipping into your mouth where you suck. The smooth muscle in your mouth and the saliva dripping from it drive you wild, hands now dragging him closer and trying to make him do more for you. The heat spreads slowly however, his pace not changing, and despite his slim build he’s much stronger than you. You aren’t able to take any more than what is given, huffing in exasperation and groaning when he places more force before easing off. “S-stop teasing…” you whine against his lips, which were much softer than they look. He smirks, airy chuckle felt more than heard as he shakes with a silent laugh, “how can I not, you’re such a rare find, I plan to take my time with you.” He kisses you hard to silence whatever whines you planned to release to make him give you more. Instead he forces you into a slow building orgasm that leaves him having to pin your wrists above your head lest your clawing rip his skin open. He works you gently and cruelly into it, loving how you gasp and choke for him, eyes rolling back while you shake almost like you’re possessed and soak through your panties. “There you go, heh, normally I wouldn’t bother to take my time with whiny bitches, but you’re more obedient and sweet than I first assumed.” He whispers into your ear as you come down from the mind blowing high, body limp and pliant like dough now. The insult from him brings out a little whine of protest, teary eyes looking at him with almost something akin to betrayal.

“I-I don’t like being called mean names…I said so online too,” he pulls up finally, the chill of the night attacking full force on your now exposed cunt as he brings your panties up to his nose to inhale. His eyes narrow, almost into slits as he pulls them back and shoves them into his hoodie pocket. “Oh yeah? You post that shit on your social media or something? Sorry, I don’t really use those trash platforms. I have a Twitch stream though,” he acts like this is the time for a regular conversation, even as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, yanking them down his hips to pull his cock free. Your eyes go wide, mind a bit blank and missing something, in favor of looking at him pump his length lazily. A trail of blue curls like on his head travel from his navel to his groin where it spreads out a little, the color a bit darker as it goes lower. He’s not one to shave it seems, but your eyes focus on his cock, average in length but girthy with a tip that curves up almost perfectly. It looks like a cock someone would sell as a dildo at a sex store. It was pretty, admittedly, as a few pearls of pre-cum dotted the tip and spilled over as he slowly worked it above you. “Hungry?” He jokes, but when you nod he grits his teeth and bites back a moan, the night truly more unexpected than he thought. “Open up then, crybaby.” He thankfully didn’t call you a bitch again, crybaby the less of the evils and more acceptable of a petname for your preference as you open your lips and awkwardly lean your head forward. “No need to lean up,” he mumbles, shifting until his knees now rested by your shoulders, tip just in your mouth and his forearms on the earth above your head. He’s looking down at you, and you lay back down as he works his cock in your mouth. He’s going to fuck your mouth, you realize a bit late, the position so easy for him to hit balls deep in your throat and prevent you from running just from his weight alone. You’re pinned to earth, the scent of crisp autumn becoming mingled with the musky masculine odor the stranger had clinging to him. Something smelled of iron too, but it was fainter and didn’t bother you too much, not when he seemed determined to suffocate you with his cock. You jerk a little, teeth accidentally grazing his cock and his hiss of pain alerts you that you’ve hurt him. He pulls up and out of your mouth, glaring ferociously as he looks down at you with contemplation. “Sorry—! I’m not used—,” the words leaving you mouth go unfinished as you’re suddenly looking away and down, confusion wracking your mind before white hot pain erupts across your face and you cry out in agony.

He watches with a cool nonchalance as you whimper and cry, holding your inflamed cheek and looking at him with teary eyes filled with questions. The sight doesn’t help his hardness, your face swelling a bit from the force of the blow already, but it was still arousing how you cried for him so easily. “Don’t bite my fucking dick and I won’t hit you, clear?” He’s grabbing you roughly by the hair again, yanking you up and no longer in the mood for that awkward position as he stands and pulls you to your knees. This position at least gives him a good eye full of your tits, shaking from your little trembling as you’re made to look up at him. His angry reddened cock next to your injured cheek is a sight for him, his hand gripping his shaft and slapping you lightly on the cheek with it, his hand in your hair preventing you from turning away even as you whimper in pain. “Okay, we’ll try this again, crybaby. Open.” You do, even as tears run like waterfalls down your face, mascara smeared and making a pathetic sight for sore eyes of you, you let his cock enter your mouth once more.

Because you’ve never been more aroused.

Your stranger isn’t nice, pushing hard and deep into your throat immediately and gagging you. You’re careful with your teeth, jaw already burning and aching as he locks his arm and hand, strands of hair tearing out as he works his hips into your face at an uneven pace. “Stop fucking moving,” he growls, stepping even closer, blocking any and all exits and forcing you to take it. His cock didn’t seem so scary when he’d pulled it out, but in your throat it was a plug to your oxygen and felt too big for your poor mouth. It hurt, feeling him go too deep and leaving you coughing and sputtering and even still he wouldn’t pull out, groaning and pressing impossibly deep like he truly means to suffocate you. “You got a good little mouth pussy, crybaby. Fuck—take my cock, just like that.” He moans, watching as you struggle on his dick to breathe or swallow, slobber and tears coating his cock as he makes a mess of your pretty face. He doesn’t care that your eyes are starting to roll back, hands which had previously been clawing at his legs going limp at your sides. You acted more like a hole for him to fuck when you were limp like this, and it drove him wild as he grunted like an animal and rutted into your mouth like he held a grudge against you. Both hands dug into your hair, hands pulling you back onto his cock when his hips bucked you away. “Never fucked a—holy shit—ah, mouth so damn good before—, ah fuck, fuck,” he’s getting breathier as time ticks by, his own eyes rolling back as his balls draw up tight. “I’m going to cum, ready for me crybaby? Want it in your tummy or on your face?” He’s being condescending on purpose, but it’s a bit useless considering he’s rendered you nearly unconscious on his dick. He shrugs your lack of response off, pumping his cock down your throat until he sees stars and yanks himself free just before the first spurt misses and hits the grass below, he grips the base, pumping and shooting his next shot right onto your face. He yanks your head against his thigh, delirious face dazed and coughing softly as he finishes on your glitter and mascara run cheeks, using the tip to smear it well into your ruined makeup as he sneers at you from above.

“Hah…” he catches his breath, sucking in oxygen along with you as his gaze turns calculated.

“Wake up, I’m not done with you yet.” He’s more gentle now that he's cum at least once, tapping your uninjured cheek with two fingers as your eyes roll around before opening and looking at him.

He swears, your face making him hard again instantly, blood pooling to his groin at the messy sight of you in your white ruined angel costume. “You really are unlucky I was out tonight, I don’t think I’m gonna let you go.” His dead serious comment caused something cold to hit your veins, chills running through you as you gape in shock.

“W-what…?” He reaches into his hoodie pocket, pulling out what looked like a foot long serrated hunting blade. He snickers at the blank look of shock on your features.

“What’s wrong, crybaby? No tears for me right now?” You’re shaking, getting paler by the second as you realize no, it’s not a costume, and yes, there is still dried blood on the blade. There’s dried blood all over him, his spree tonight ridiculously fruitful and his body still high on the thrill. Imagine his luck finding you. “T-this wasn’t in my profile, wh-what are you doing?” Now you look alert, now you act like a regular civilian, he notes cooly. “I only con-consented to the sex and stuff, I said I didn’t like—like blades or blood play.” Your eyes are wide as saucers and you have a cold sweat now forming and dotting your skin, shaky like on too much caffeine as your body dumped chemicals to help you run.

His head tilts, a few more strands of hair coming loose from his tie as those red eyes watch you without any emotion in their depths.

“Ah~ I get it now. Are you some kind of freak who links up with people online for this kind of shit?” He laughs, eyes not matching the manic toothy grin. “Sorry to disappoint slut, I ain’t your tinder or whatever match. Did you do it anonymously?” He’s beyond amused, thrilled by the horror dawning on your face as reality sets in. “You’re a fucking idiot.” He sneers, but he’s joyful when you book it, heeled boots caked in mud as they dig into the ground and you take off for real. True intent to get away now because he’s not your new friend, he’s a real stranger and his energy is nothing but malevolent.

You’re going to die.

It’s a sick thought that twists inside you as you push the hardest you’ve ever, scream bubbling up and out as you cry for help now. “HELP! Please! Someone! Anyone!” It’s more broken and hoarse than you want, his earlier abuse to your throat having taken a number on your ability to vocalize.

It’s empty. This damn park is empty.

Not a soul around and you can’t hear him coming for you anymore, and it only makes the tears fall harder as you drive your body to a breaking point. If no one is around you can at least aim for your car, your phone will take too much time to look at and dial the police, you’d be too open and that would mean—

Something—someone—smashes into you, your body thrown sideways by the brute force and flung roughly to the ground where you roll several feet.

It hurts—!

Your body and mind scream as pain lights up your shoulder, a previously dull ache now hounding for your attention so much it left you lightheaded. You twisted your ankle too or maybe broke it, already so regretful for the evening and your life choices that your shoes hardly broke the bank. It all hurt, and yet you still tried to crawl to get away, still eager for another deep breath of air in your lungs even if it hurt to do that too.

“Hck, please, please—help—!,” you’re a sobbing pathetic mess, and he couldn’t be more turned on by the sight. He dusts himself off like he hadn’t tackled you like a linebacker for a major league football team, his lanky form sinewy with muscle and his agility nothing to scoff at. He swirls the enormous daunting blade with a whistle, smiling more genuinely as he strolls towards your shaking form crawling away.

“Where do you think you’re going, crybaby? I said I wasn’t done with you,” he lands a solid hit to your middle, dirty sneaker smearing mud on your cute little dress, looking less and less white as the night wears on. The blow is not hard enough to damage anything, he’s sure, but you act as if you’ve been disemboweled by how you howl and heave. He rolls his eyes at the dramatics, settling one foot between your shoulder blades and pressing down until you’re left immobilized.

Your vision is blurry, going in and out of focus as you try, and try, and try to get away, cute nail polish chipped and ruined as you claw at the dirt floor for leverage.

He admires your tenacity. “You think you can get away? That anyone is coming to save you?” He brushes a few stray hairs out of his face as he laughs, the urge to gut you strong as he savors your useless little struggle. “Crybaby, look around! No one is coming! I said look,” he grinds out, dropping to one knee while his other leg remains planted on your back, his hand gripping your hair and yanking your head up to see what he meant.

There’s a fence. A metal chain link fence, and it had a sign your vision was too blurry to read through your tears.

“You ran yourself straight into the worst possible area, this is sort of your game over,” He leans down to look at you, yanking your head back and forcing you into an uncomfortable arch. He raises up the blade, fully intending to slit your pretty throat and watch your eyes as the light fades, but you blubber out a sentence which halts him.

“Y-you didn’t finish! E-earlier, hck, earlier you didn’t finish—!” Your eyes squeeze closed in pain as he yanks your head to the side. Confusion burned in him, and curiosity kept you breathing for now.

“Didn’t finish what, crybaby? Fairly certain I finished all over your face, if I remember correctly.” He has a sharp edge in his tone, something metallic fills your mouth and you realize you’ve bitten through your tongue in your panic. A few drops spill past your lips, catching his attention.

“S-shouldn’t you also f-fuck me too? I-it’s why I came out tonight, wh-why I, ah, d-did this,” it’s a long shot by any means, and he’s no fool, but you did make a good point.

He was still hard.

“Smart little crybaby, aren’t you?” He mutters darkly, setting aside his blade in favor of smashing your face into the dirt, keeping your head down as he presses against your back and yanks your hips up. Your knees are skinned from the rough handling, socks torn open and stained with blood and dirt while his calloused hands slip beneath your dress. Your breath hitches. You needed to think of some way out of this, some kind of plan to escape or incapacitate him.

He’s busied himself with your still dripping cunt. Two fingers roughly filling your hole and uncaringly stretching your tight entrance. “You really are a freak, wet even though you’re going to die, crybaby.” He felt a bit strange as you whimper and mewl below, hand slowing as he tried to place the feeling.

He shrugs it off, instead easily yanking down his jeans which were still unbuttoned and pulling out his cock once more, stroking his shaft a few times before he lined himself up with your puffy lips. “Fuck—,” he swears, eyes seeing stars as he pushes just his tip past the tight ring of muscle at your entrance, mouth opening as licks his lips and stares down at you. “Never had pussy so good…” he giggles darkly, cracking his neck as he pushes each inch inside of you, stretching you out deliciously until you’re speared on his cock with his hips flush with your ass. “Who knew you’d be the best, crybaby.” He muses, fingers digging into the fat of your hips, your little dress flipped up and over your ass so he can watch it bounce as he leans back on his knees to fuck you deeper. You need to think straight but it’s difficult with how good your body feels, the pain from earlier seeming to go away with a numb buzz as he fills your pussy, hitting perfectly against a spot that has you arching harder for more.

You really are a freak like he says.

You can’t help relaxing further, eyes dumbly looking to the side where your head rests as he pounds into you from behind, the coil in your gut growing tighter by the minute.

The clouds blocking the moon seem to part just for you, the full moon’s light no longer blocked and illuminating the little patch of grass he’d tackled you into. Something gleams, in perfect reach too as your eyes widen.

His knife.

He’d already proven you can’t outrun him, but what if he was injured? There’s a major artery in the thigh, if you hit that, wouldn’t you be able to get away?

He yanks back roughly, moaning as he feels you squeeze even tighter around him, velvet walls massaging his dick while he tries to fuck himself as deep as possible inside of you.

It hit you despite all your intentions not to, because this wasn’t safe and he wants to end your life and everything is wrong, but your body doesn’t listen. You cum with a shaky cry, and with an awkward turn of your head you watch as his head goes back and he moans, eyes closed in bliss as you coat his cock in even more slick.

You’re louder than you intended to be, but your fingers close around the hilt nonetheless, trembling with the heavy weight in your grasp, you use every ounce of energy inside you to swing it back into his thigh.

“Cute,” you scream as he catches your wrist, hand clenching so tight you feel your bones grind together as the knife falls from your grip. He twists your arm around and pins your wrist behind your back, holding it in place while his other hand remains at your hip.

“So fucking cute, crybaby. Did you cum just to distract me or was that because you couldn’t help yourself?” He’s getting a high from this, from fucking you and turning you into nothing but a toy as he bounces you on his cock, hips still but arms pulling you back and forth with ease. Scarlet eyes drink you in with undisguised sick glee, and he’s finally able to place the feeling from earlier.

“A pretty little slut trying to get her rocks off and getting shown why she should’ve been a good girl and stayed home,” he grunts, releasing you and leaning over, pinning you with his weight and nearly knocking the air from your lungs how deeply he hits you inside from this angle. Dirt fills the underbelly of your nails, your fingers digging into the earth just for some semblance of stability.

You had none. It was a sick and horrifying realization. You have no control. You can do nothing to stop this. As deeply as it made your gut sink, another odd emotion rose to the surface.

A bubbly sensation that tore through you as your tears became less from fear and more from overstimulation.

His hips piston in and out of you, bullying your cervix in this position as he ruts into you like a hound, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he moans and grunts.

You break again, spasm and cinch down on his cock like a vice while you wail as if in mourning. Maybe you are, for yourself at least. “Oh fuck—! s’too much—, please, I can’t—, f-feels good, hah,” your nearly incoherent babbling sends him over the edge along with you, his own dull nails finally drawing blood as he holds you for dear life as he releases deep inside you, tip kissing right up against you womb as he cums. You can feel it too, his cock twitching inside as the night seems to still for a moment.

He holds you for a while. Breathing you in, nuzzling his face into your neck and licking you. He holds you until his cock fully softens and it hurt to be gripped so tightly inside your wet heat, regrettably pulling away.

He stands, putting his sticky limp cock away inside his underwear and pulling up his pants, looking down at your ruined figure that had slumped over to the side.

“Y’know, crybaby… you really resemble an angel now,” he smiles, red eyes almost glowing as the moon blankets his back and shadows his face. His hair seems almost white like this, your tired eyes note. You don’t move or even flinch as he grabs his knife and yanks your limp figure up by your hair. Even now you’re still crying, face lax despite the rivers flowing down your dirty swollen cheeks. You make no effort to stop him, having given up completely.

He crouches down again, mostly eye level now as he makes you look at him.

“You got any last words?” He’s being dead serious. He feels strange looking at the almost glazed over look in your eyes.

“W-what…” your voice is barely a whisper, but the night is so quiet he catches it, “what’s your…name?”

An unexpected question.

His eyes gleam, smile ravenous as he puts his lips against your ear and whispers it.

“Tomura, what’s your name, crybaby?” He asks, gently, almost like he’s actually interested.

You hoarsely whisper it, your last time ever saying it after tonight. He hums, like it pleases him, before he brings down the knife swiftly.

Your vision goes dark, the strike mercifully painless. Your last thoughts blur as you drift into soft nothingness.

He releases your hair, grabbing your limp figure up in his arms as he chuckles and sheaths his knife properly on his hip. “Dumb crybaby” his voice almost singing the words as he whistles and walks away, the park dead silent but even if someone had seen you in his arms, he could just play the good boyfriend taking his sweetheart home safely. It’s not entirely a lie either, his eyes glancing down at your unconscious form, pretty neck unmarred but a bruise would likely form on the back where he struck you tomorrow. Tomura had never felt compelled to allow a victim to live, but then again he’s never fucked a victim either, so you’re the first for a lot. He supposed it made you quite special, his legs carrying him in the direction of his car in the parking lot about a mile south. Obsession and possessiveness swirled in those red depths as they looked at your figure.

“Good girls should just stay home…” he continues his sardonic little tune, his smile gruesome and foreboding.

Vibrant blue orbs check his surroundings again, noting once again his friend was a no show. Rolling his eyes, he knew it was too good to be true. Your profile screamed inexperienced and cautious, despite you clicking that you’d like him to remain anonymous beforehand. It didn’t matter, he’d just go enjoy some sorority girl pussy instead, figuring at 0330 that most parties would be winding down. Drunk girls dressed like sluts were his second favorite.

Dabi clicks the notify option on his app, letting the website staff know you never showed up.

Though, he muses if something did happen, the police wouldn’t be notified until it was too late. Halloween weekend after all meant you could be missing for quite a while before anyone noticed.

Not his problem though.

Post dividers/@cafekitsune

#tw:noncon #kinktober #Shiggy fuckers come get y’all juice #kinktober 2023 #my only one lol #shigaraki tomura smut #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki mha #shigaraki x reader #mha tomura #tomura x reader #boku no hero academia tomura #yandere tomura #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere tomura smut #yandere shigaraki tomura smut #yandere tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader smut

1K notes · View notes