#smart mirror that runs innocent sin

[dragonofeternal]

Pat just handed me his book on Raspberry Pi, which I will now use to continue my CrimesTM of putting Innocent Sin on devices that have no business running Innocent Sin

[chubbyconvicts]

My new life inside, part 1

I'm writing this journal on the advice of my prison psychiatrist to help keep track of what my life has been like and maybe give myself a view in the mirror. Backdrop: The War on Crime gets totted out yet again for politicians to use as a campaign tool. Nearly every category of crime has been focused on, and not just the low hanging fruits anymore. Some people were mad when weed smokers got let out. The response was intense: Bring back the death penalty. Bring back hard labor. Bring back corporal discipline as well as punishment. I would find out just how real that could all be.

Jail sucks. This might not seem to be news, but unlike prison, where they at least want you to be a positive member of society on release one day, jail exists solely to warehouse inmates. These days with the War in full gear, there tends to be a lot of warehousing.

We slept on one another like dogs after a long hunt, the only thing close to a bed underneath being old, stinking, greasy cell bed mattresses thrown down. We wore scrubs with orange stripes on them. We used a toilet in common behind a very low wall, and I found myself often having an audience when I used it. One guy asked me not to flush. Another guy took hold of the toilet paper and refused to let me use it. "Use your hand, fat ass. If you can get in there. Fat ass motherfucker."

I knew all this was temporary. There was no doubt that I was going to be convicted. I was going to get at least a back door parole (that's life without, cute little term they call certain rides in here), but the death penalty was not out of the question. The state was smart enough to bring back multiple methods in case challenges would arise, but lately the Supreme Court has dismissed most appeals. My public defender flat out told me to expect to be gassed. Glad he cared enough to try!

Regardless of my innocence or guilt, tempers were running hot. When I was arrested, it was a miracle that I made it that far. A mob showed up at my trailer and a noose was already prepared on the oak across the lot. A neighbor managed to get a few deputies out to take care of the mob, but I was shocked that they bothered to not let them hang me. "Folks, you can let him swing and he can choke on his sins, but between us, you might get a better show from him choking in the gas chamber." The mob went from yells and screams to cheers. I found myself having a throbbing erection at the whole thing, mixed with a reasonable amount of terror. By this point the mob had stripped me and I was in the dirt naked, so that rock hard penis of mine was visible to add to my condemnation by the crowd.

I was hog tied with zip ties and thrown into the cruiser. My head met the cage between the seats and I went out cold, waking only after I was inside the intake portion of the jail and having a rather cold gloved hand forced up my asshole. "Well look at the little pervert who decided to show up for his day to find out he what be goin' in a pine box." It felt like the worst shit I ever took in my life, but reversed, and yet for all the pain, I was yet again aroused. The cold shower I was forced into put that to a stop. I grew stiff as a board again when I was let out of the shower and handed a set of scrubs in orange stripes.

I enjoyed being watched, I enjoyed being humiliated, I enjoyed being turned into inventory. I was chalking most of this up to being nervous and mentally trying to distract myself, but the fact is that I always envisioned myself as a whipping boy, a slave, a bitch. That was all running through my head as I was putting on my stripes. They were like a set of pajamas, if pajamas were meant to be heavy and made out of the same material as a janitor's uniform. I was not issued underwear or a shirt, so this would be all I would be wearing until they either let me have some of my clothes for court or shipped off somewhere and given some similar suit. I felt like I was part of the damn thing. Some photographs and fingerprinting later, I was tossed into the inmate pile and found my fellow dogs were all outfitted without a mind to be able to take off tops or bottoms either.

Being a fat ass, I expected to get some special attention, and while that did happen on the toilet and in the pile, I had little else happen other than my junk being grabbed. No one really knew or talked about what anyone else was in for, as it was a bit temporary, but I was dreading that informational session.

The next morning I was ordered out of the pile and given an onsite cavity search in front of the other cons. Sleep deprivation, fright, and uncertainty were enough of a match for my perversions, and other than when my foreskin was rolled back, I didn't get much of a hard on. I was led down the corridor right into the new remodeled onsite courtroom, where I met my public defender and was granted the chance to make a plea. I decided to go no-contest, and told the judge to give me what I had coming to me, knowing that things would likely lead to a trial. After a fun few minutes of public humiliation when my charges were read out and business was conducted, I was allowed a private session with my defender, and I told him only to just make the process smooth and get me what I have coming. He informed me things would likely go to trial and that I would be gassed, something he wasn't paid enough for to handle. I apologized to him. He laughed at me.

In the following days, I was informed that my underpaid PD decided to work out a deal to prevent a trial from happening, with good optics on the governor and department of justice in granting me mercy, for now, from an execution, but ending me up leaving prison in a body bag and never again to eat steak or relax in a hot tub. I was back in that courtroom, and back out again after the gavel sealed my fate. I was then taken to a cell with one other inmate, who was some years my senior.

He had also been given life without parole, but the threat of an execution hung over both our heads under new legislation that made a mockery of the concept of Double Jeopardy. His face seemed locked into a look of shock, and he laid facing me with his ass pretty much flush to the wall. Something tells me his time in the pile was a bit rougher than mine. In the morning we were due to be shipped out to the reception prison for the state, and while I can't say as to what was going through his head, I am sure it was wondering how big his asshole was going to get. I had the same thought, but in a resigned twist, I was more concerned about what sort of physical things I would have to endure from the side of the staff in the prison. I stuck my hand down my pants to fiddle with my penis and balls a bit, which were coated in pre-cum. He watched and I saw him lick his lips. I smiled back and he asked to see my junk. This was interrupted by a loud knock on the cell door with a yell to cut it out. His face turned red, and I just smiled and stared at the ceiling. I would clearly have to find a discreet way to masturbate.

[avintagekiss24]

—you can pretend you don’t miss me; bucky barnes

pairing: tfatws!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4049

warnings: 18+ ONLY, knife kink, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, tiny bit of blood, attempted murder

challenge: @cockslut-padalecki a decade under the influence “what if I can’t forget you? I’ll burn your name into my throat”

request: bucky barnes + “i have a feeling i’m gonna get lucky tonight” + orgasm denial

author note: surprise! it didn’t take me two months to write something sjsksjs please enjoy fic #3 of my 5/5.5k follower celebration! also another quick congrats to lisa for hitting 10k!!

inspired by this art ; gif by @zacharylevis ; line divider by @firefly-graphics ; title inspired by billie eilish bitches broken hearts

The taste of bourbon and cigarettes is on his lips and tongue as he licks into your mouth. He moans into you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh as he hooks your leg right around his waist. Your back is up against the heavy door of his apartment, fingers in soft brown hair, wet lips smacking and sucking, teeth nibbling on his swollen, red bottom lip. He laughs, relaxing into your kiss and lips and teeth as he anchors your weight in his metal hand, flesh hand rummaging in his almost too tight black jeans for his door key.

There’s a smirk on your face as you pull away from him. Your lips are still touching. Foreheads resting on one another's. Eyes a little shy, only connecting for fractions of seconds before they’re on the floor or a pair of lips. The jingle of keys fills the hallway, then the thunk of one as it pushes into the slot and stops hard against the rusted metal of the lock. The deadbolt slaps back into the door and with a push of his foot, and a little help from your weight being pinned against it, the swollen door scrapes against the frame as it pops open, swinging back into the wall.

Bucky slips his hands down your sides, grips your hips tight as he starts to back you inside. They stay there, those hands, as his eyes bounce back and forth between yours and dip down to your mouth where he licks his lips and catches his bottom lip between his teeth, like he’s fantasizing about wanting to feel them again. A metal hand cups your face, his palm warm as he sweeps his thumb along your cheek.

His tongue sneaks out just before your lips meet again to tease the roof of your mouth before he grabs your top lip between his. You both inhale deep, breathing each other in, a concoction of soft and sweet and smoke and warmth.

You’re not sure who moves first, whether Bucky is pushing or you’re pulling— probably a little of both— but you’re inside of his apartment before you know it. The door slams shut. Your leather jacket slips off your shoulders and hits the hardwood floor as you back further inside.

Fingers and hands are everywhere. Yanking at shirts, popping buttons, pulling zippers as lips get more desperate. You back into a set of bar stools, knocking them around just a little as you stumble and catch yourself, throwing your head back as laughter spills from you. Bucky pushes out a breath and a small laugh while he eyes you all hungry like as he pulls at his boots.

You tease him a little, putting those feminine wiles to good use— tilt your head, twist your hair around your fingers, push your tits forward. With your shirt crumpled on the floor, the titanium bars pushed through your nipples catch the soft pink, blue, and purple lights of the neon signs pouring in through the kitchen windows through the sheer mesh bralette covering your chest.

Bucky looks a mess. Hair all over his head, pants open— the band of his Hugo Boss boxers peeking out— plain black t-shirt now in a rumpled pile on the floor. His footsteps heavy as he stalks towards you. He stops short, wraps black and gold fingers around your wrist and yanks, collecting you again to crush your soft body against his hard one.

You tilt your head up towards him, eyes turning to slits, lips brushing against his as manicured fingertips push just inside his jeans. Soft tips sweep over a rigid cock, the size making a sly smile curl onto your face. This one is full of surprises.

“Well well,” you purr, kissing him quick, wet and loud, never taking your eyes off him, “I have a feeling I’m gonna get lucky tonight.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, a breath pushing out through his nose as a lopsided grin paints his handsome face, “Aren’t you a smart girl.”

You curl your fingers around his neck, digging the tips into his messy hair and draw him in— dragging the wet velvet of your tongue over his mouth real slow, watching as his eyes close, “You, bed,” you instruct, “Me, bathroom.”

Footsteps fill the quiet, surprisingly lived-in apartment, the clicks of your heels and his heavy thumps as he pulls you towards the bed. He just points off to his left as he falls onto the mattress, resting a leaden head on a wide palm as he settles in. Eyes blinking at you slow as you disappear behind a white door.

The bathroom is immaculate. White. Sterile. Nothing out of place— very military of him. You undress slowly, removing your shoes one by one before moving on to your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a see through bra, waist high panties— and a black leather ankle holster housing your six inch, hand crafted, butterfly knife.

You lift your foot, place it on the white countertop and slip the blade from the holster before carefully, quietly undoing the straps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up a little straighter, roll your neck and shoulders as you stare back at your reflection. The pony tail comes down, silky hair falling over your shoulders and down your back— best fifteen hundred bucks you’ve ever spent on yourself.

Gotta look good on the day you finally get to kill the Winter Soldier.

With a soft flick of your wrist, the blade flips out and you can’t help but run a manicured finger over the edge, pressing the sharp point into the pad. You find yourself in the mirror again and tilt your head a little as your brain goes a little empty— except for maybe one thought.

You wanna fuck him. You’ve earned it, and regrettably so, you find Bucky Barnes sort of interesting. Funny. Engaging when prodded a bit but still somehow deadpan and aloof.

His huge cock doesn’t help matters either.

You sigh, oh well.

The door clicks as you open it and pass through. You keep your hands behind your back as your body softens— sinks into itself a little. Hair falls in your face as you feign shyness, batting big, soft brown eyes and sinking your teeth into an ample bottom lip.

Bucky took the time to get completely naked. Hard cock gripped in his flesh palm, slow drags from the base to the glistening tip.

God, you really kinda wish you could fuck this man.

“Come ‘ere.”

An outstretched metal hand accompanies the gentle beckoning. You move soft, a small sound of your feet sinking into the carpet before you reach out with your empty hand and slide it into warm metal, using the sturdy grip to hoist yourself up and over his stomach.

His hands find your hips— big, warm, manly hands. They slip upwards just a bit to grip the soft of your sides. Move down again for thick fingers to graze over your ass and tickle the backs of your naked thighs. Still, you palm the handle of your knife tight and high, in the small of your back, as you use your free hand to push the dark strands of hair out of your face.

Bucky’s eyes meet yours when his fingers push between your parted legs, finding a wet spot in those mesh panties. You inhale deep, blinking back at him as his fingers keep a sweet little rhythm back and forth against your cunt. Hips defy your brain and push forward into those fingers— wanting just a little more.

Maybe you can wait… maybe until after...

You lean forward before your brain can finish stringing the words together— you have to or you’d lose all your nerve and give into that weak devil telling you to taste the sin. Let him spread you open until it hurts. Your mouth finds his hot and swollen and you kiss him hard, so hard he groans into it. You pull back just enough to lick his mouth again, eyes bouncing between his.

“What’re you waitin’ for, sweetheart? You need more of an invitation than this?” Bucky asks low and slow, pushing his cock right into your ass as his fingers creep inside your panties.

You smile, real nice and sweet before swooping the arm from behind your back to push the knife into his neck, “Oh nothing, baby,” you purr, “Just waiting for the right time to kill you is all.”

You lean back a little to see his face, tipping your head to the side. He’s pretty calm for a guy who’s minutes away from bleeding out on his own bed— but he is an assassin. Not much can shake him— should shake him.

Bucky blinks slow at you, hands coming to rest by his sides. His eyes don’t widen, pupils don’t dilate. Steady breathing stays just the same— he doesn’t even shift uncomfortably. Just blinks back at you. Slow. Easy. Without a fucking care in the goddamn world.

An angry heat blooms across your skin at his nonchalance as the seconds tick by. Your chest starts to rise and fall a little harder. Your eyes start to bounce between his as you suck your teeth in indignation, “You don’t remember me, do you?”

A blink is all you get.

“Of course you don’t,” you hiss, “Why would you? I was just one of many in the wrong place at the wrong time, right?” Your grip on the handle of the knife tightens as you push it harder against his skin— this time he swallows, “Who cares how many innocent lives you’ve destroyed as long as you got what you wanted.”

He still doesn’t say a word, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react. Just stares up at you as you crack, laughing angrily as you take his silence mockingly, “Well, I couldn’t fuckin’ forget you. Eight years. Eight years of living in absolute terror that you’d come back for me.” You’re seething now, eyes wild, breath coming harder and faster than the one before it, “Constantly looking over my shoulder, jumping at every bark of a dog and clink of keys and slam of a car door outside my apartment— do you know how it feels to live like that? Huh? Expecting to die every second of every hour of every goddamn day?”

Another silence drops over the room and it’s just the two of you staring at each other. You’re not even sure why he isn’t fighting back— why he’s just lying there and then it hits you, like a ton of bricks.

Of course he knows what it’s like to live like this. He’s used to it.

A trickle of blood slips down the side of his neck, the singular plop staining the white sheets below, “I’ve never thought about after— once you’re dead. What if I can’t forget you? I’ve spent so long hating you— it’s, it’s like by killing you, I’ll burn your name into my throat, you know? You’ll always just,” you tilt your head, digging the knife in a little harder, “Be there. With me always.”

The funniest thing happens as soon as the words slip through your teeth. His lips start to twitch. Curl into a smile— one where those pearly whites are on display— and then he’s laughing. Like someone just told a fucking joke.

It makes you recoil. Makes you squint and has your face twist in confusion, lips separating as a heavy breath passes through.

“Well,” he finally purrs, the laughter rumbling through his chest dying down, “Go ‘head, honey.”

When you hesitate, he pushes his chin forward, arch’s his head back to put his neck on full display, “Come on, baby. Don’t get my hopes up and not follow through.”

“You’re insane.” You hiss.

He leans up a little, another smile curling onto his lips, “In this business, you gotta be.”

The words stick in air like glue as he settles back into the pillow below his head, blue eyes twinkling underneath the soft neon lights pouring in through the windows.

He’s fucking with you. Just do it. The words echo, knocking around your brain as you stare down at him, blade still shoved into the crease of his neck. Another drop of blood plops onto the sheets below. Your lip snarls slightly, eyes narrowing as heat flashes across your skin again. He’s mocking you. After everything he’s done, all the pain— the fear.

You inhale deep, grip the handle so hard your nails dig into your palm and instinct takes over. The hatred, the built up aggression and vitriol guiding your hand, about to slash that pretty thick neck wide open. You are more than ready to see a deep red stain white sheets and blue eyes lose all of the life he’s built into them and fade away into nothingness. Just when you’re about to make your eight year long dream come true, it all flashes before your eyes.

Within a blink— half of a blink— you're off his lap, slammed up against the wall opposite the bed, warm flesh hand around your throat. You gasp hard, nearly choking on the air you can’t grab as you start to struggle, slapping at his face before swinging the knife wildly.

Bucky catches your arm with ease, squeezing your hand until you’re grunting and hissing in pain, grip relaxing around the metal. You blink again, and your knife is now pressed against your throat as you growl, struggling to no avail.

“You’re lucky baby,” he mutters, “Nobody survives that long while holding a knife to my throat.” He kisses you hard, digging his teeth into your bottom lip to drag it back with him when he pulls away, “You’re a cutie tho, so, you get a little reprieve.”

He leans back in real close, eyes roaming along your face as his head tilts, breathing easy. Staring back at him, lip curling again as you huff hard, angry breaths beating out of your nose. But your hands have come to rest on his arms. You can feel the blood coursing through the vein that’s popped out right down the center of his bicep. Your fingers flex around metal and muscle, goosebumps rising on your skin as the cool air conditioning tickles hot skin.

“Of course I remember you,” he whispers after a long time— too long, “I remember each and every face of the last seventy years,” his eyes bounce between yours, “I knew exactly who you were as soon as you popped up on that stupid dating app.”

Another sharp influx of air squeezes out of your throat when he drags the tip of your knife underneath your chin, down the length of your throat, down your chest. Slips it along your stomach before pushing it into the mesh that covers your chest. A flick of his wrist and you’re bare, the thin material giving way to the blade.

Your chest heaves, eyes wide, lips parting as the tip of that blade scrapes along your skin— right between your tits. Brown eyes drop to his red, wet lips quick, then shoot back to focus on his piercing blues.

“I wasn’t sure at first what you wanted,” he whispers, flattening the blade over a piqued nipple, clinking against the metal bar piercing your thick flesh, “If you recognized me after all this time— I mean, with the new hair and everything.”

A hum sounds at the back of your throat, trembling and airy and Bucky picks it up right away— another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The fingers around your throat peel away slowly but he watches you all the while, fire behind his eyes as he tests you.

“You’re a good little actress,” words still soft but full— maybe amazed that you were able to get as close as you did, “But you knew that already, huh?”

You swallow hard, eyes tipping down to watch his fingers drift down your arm. Light little touches, “You have to be when born— ah,” the edge of the knife catches your thick nipple as he slides it across your tit.

He kisses you again, real sweet this time though. Tongue sweeping along your bottom lip as both his encase it, “I’m sorry baby. You were saying?”

Flesh fingers dance along your stomach, sweeping from hip to hip. Just the tips. Feather light drags so you don’t forget about them. His large palm grips your hip, pushes his thumb into the meat of your side and you have to close your eyes— clear your throat to center yourself. To remember why you’re there in the first place.

Sweet breath washes over your face as Bucky rolls your left nipple now into the edge of the blade— kissing you again when you shriek at the quick, sharp pain just to eat the sound. You lose the fingers around your hip, only to find them again suddenly, jumping in slight surprise as calloused pads cup a soft, wet cunt.

Bucky’s still blinking slow, fingers pushing along a swollen clit, massaging. He’s real close now, prickly cheek rubbing against yours, teeth nibbling at your jawline.

Your own fingers dig into his biceps as your eyes flutter with the tightening of your stomach. A warmth starts to spread through your veins. Hips find a little rhythm against his hand. A sharp prick here and there as he circles that knife— your own damn knife— around your tits and back up to your throat again.

That’s when he sinks two long, thick fingers into you, not stopping until his palm is flush with your sticky folds. His thumb pressed against the sensitive little nub at the center of you.

His eyes are slits, head tilted up slightly as his mouth hangs, dragging in the air you expel. Only then does his fingers start to move, delving in and out, thumb still pushing along your clit.

“God,” you pant, pushing your head upwards against the wall, “Mmm, I can’t—” his fingers push deeper and the words are gone, like they never even existed in the first place, “Fuck.”

Bucky pushes the smooth blade against your throat just a little harder— the sharp edge forcing your chin upward a little more. He flattens his thumb against your lower stomach, starts to pull his fingers, not push them. The heel of his palm starts to slap against your skin as you buck into the motion.

Your hands slip up to his shoulders, both arms wrapping lazily around either side of his neck. The soft hum from earlier is replaced with high pitched whimpers and breathy little squeaks. Bitten off words fall from your lips as you squirm against the wall, wanting him deeper, faster, harder— which he delivers without you having to say a word.

He grabs your cheeks, pinching hard as the blade flattens across your pouty lips. A weak, desperate whimper sounds, all your resolve gone. Whatever leverage you thought you had completely wiped away— and it makes a wicked grin spread on Bucky’s lips.

“You close, baby? Hmm?” he hums, licking at your mouth again, “Oh sweet girl, you wanna come, huh? You gonna come for me?”

He strokes your clit with the tip of his thumb, your walls clenching around his fingers. The gentle encouragement continues, real soft and between sweet little kisses all over your face. A dull ache settles in your belly, a thick heat starting to stir within. Your heart leaps into your throat as your hips pump with Bucky’s hand, the release so close you can taste it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groan, “‘m gonna fuckin—”

“You want it? Huh? Want me to make you come honey?”

You squeak in response, nodding fast as you bite down into your lip, “Please. Please.”

Heat ripples through your body as you start to tremble, legs going shaky and weak. Muscles start to burn all over as you tense hard, coaxing the sweet agony swirling in your stomach. You cry out, his name hanging on your lips as the rush of it all pushes higher and higher.

Just as you start to unravel, just as the coil begins to snap, his fingers are gone. Pulled from your cunt and clit. You’re whipped around his body, forced back towards the bed. Your mind racing— maybe you’ll be getting some of that cock afterall.

Or not.

Metal slaps around your wrist, bites into the skin as it clamps down, the clink of teeth sliding into the lock housing ringing in your ears. You snap your head towards the sound when it all finally connects in your murky brain. The horror of realization floods into your veins— blood running cold as your stomach drops to your feet.

The handcuffs clink against the dark metal headboard as you fight against it, “You bastard! You fuckin’ piece of shit, let me go!” you shout, thrashing your arm back and forth, pulling as hard as you can, “Goddamn it— let me the fuck go! I’ll fuckin’ kill you, you bast—”

“Ooph,” Bucky jests, octave rising as he slips back into his jeans, “You got a filthy little mouth on you.”

“Fuck you!”

He scoffs, laughing gently as he pulls his black shirt back over his head. The bastard even starts to hum as he plops down on the edge of the bed, taking his time while he pushes his feet back into his boots and shrugs into his jacket.

You keep sharp eyes on him as he stands and turns to face you, dangling a pair of small silver keys next to his grinning face before he tosses them somewhere deep in the apartment. You swipe at him with your free hand as he approaches, just barely catching his chin as he kneals down, “I’m gonna kill you,” you smile, a blind rage engulfing every pore, every muscle, every ounce of your body.

Bucky shrugs, “Not tonight, sweets. Listen, tell Sam I’m sorry about the mess, hm?”

“Who the fuck is Sam?” you hiss.

He looks down at his watch, “Yeah, he should be home in about an hour. It’s not everyday you walk into your apartment to find a naked, wannabe assassin handcuffed to your bed, so, give him my apologies— wait, you know about Sam, right? The new Cap, they made it official a couple of weeks ago.”

Your jaw clenches as you stare back at his smiling face, more humiliation pouring through you as you realize he’s had you pegged the entire goddamn time.

“Oh baby,” he laughs again, “You didn’t honestly think I’d take you back to my place, did you? I don’t even know you— you kids today are so reckless.”

Blue eyes bounce between yours for a few seconds before he glances down at his hands, works them back into his black gloves. He pulls your butterfly knife from his back pocket and starts to play with it, flicking his wrist to close it, and then open it over and over again.

“I’m keeping this,” he offers as he locks it closed and slips it back into his pocket, “Maybe you’ll find the balls to try and take it from me.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head, “I’m taking it back.”

Bucky stands, the sound of his heavy boots sounding through the apartment as he moves towards the door, “I look forward to it kiddo.”

***

If there’s one thing you respect about Bucky Barnes, it’s his attention to detail.

Right on the dot, exactly one hour later, you snap your head towards the front door as keys start to jingle in the lock. With the bed sheet wrapped loosely around your torso, you straighten up against the wall, eyes wide as you watch an exhausted Samuel Thomas Wilson walk into his apartment.

“Oh, fuck!” he shouts, jumping slightly and dropping his bag to the floor when he locks eyes with you, “What in the fuck?”

“I can explain… sort of.” you start, holding up your hand.

You apparently don’t need to. Sam’s phone is to his ear within seconds as he starts to pace back and forth, “Bucky, this is not why I gave you a key to my mother fuckin’ apartment!”

[coraskeeper]

 ⤑ 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘴/𝘰

⤑ ft: shinsou, tamaki, kirishima, denki, fem!r

⤑ warnings: facesitting, unprotected seggs (don’t try this at home), choking, oral(m&f receiving), dumbification, slight femdom themes (only for tamaki), mastrubation, crying, use of the word cock bc it makes me giggle

⤑ file type: scenarios, smut

⤑ wc: 2.3k

⤑ an: def wanna write a whole shinsou smut now :’)

⤑ last edited: 1.25.21

⤑ 𝘦𝘪𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘢

his obsession with his best friends girlfriend started out innocent 

he wouldn’t say he was in love with you, more like a kiddie crush 

just wanting to be around you and that heart warming presence of yours all it took was for you to simply ask him how he was or, what he wanted to do saying that his opinion mattered just as much as anyone else 

it might’ve been then he fell for you, your interest in him was genuine, not many people cared much for his input on anything really 

not that he minded- it just felt nice, to know that someone had what he would think in mind

he liked you and if he ever got the chance he’d give you the world, but your world was bakugo and he respected that

but all it took was walking in on you and bakugo getting hot and heavy for his thoughts of you to become way less than innocent 

bakugos large hands splayed across your bare ass cheeks as he helped you move up and down along his shaft

your chest pressed into his as you released the most heavenly moans he’d even heard in his life 

your wavering whines telling his friend how you couldn’t take anymore but your hips still hopelessly bucking against his

now anytime the poor boy seen you his face flushed red and he’d cut your conversations short out of the guilt of have seen you naked without your knowledge

he felt bad that just the sound of your voice made him so hard it hurt and he’d have no other choice but to relieve himself 

thinking of you large hand palming himself through his boxers 

his head falling back in relief in his mind you tasted so sweet, he’d always wondered what you tasted like, or what you’d look like sitting on his face begging for him. he just knew you’d look ethereal.

his gripped your hips hard, helping you move your sopping cunt along his mouth, one of your hands threading themselves through his bright red locks giving them a tug.

tears falling from your eyes as you whine asking him to let you breathe just for a second, yet your body betrayed you, your hips rutting against his mouth with the little energy you had left, “ please kiri, i can’t “

his eyes coming to stare up at you lovingly, his lips releasing your clit, “ ‘cmon sweetheart, i know you’ve got one more left “

ruby eyes staring up at you as he flattened his tongue against your clit again, your face was sinful paired with your pretty moans falling from your lips as your hips rutted down harder against his mouth, body shaking before collapsing with a sweet whine of his name.

his hands rubbing soothing circles against your pelvic bone, “ what a good girl you are “.

knees weak, his muscular back arched off the cold wood of the head board as he cupped himself softly, spurts of hot cum soiling the inside of his boxers, “ i want.. to taste her “

⤑ 𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘫𝘪

he was actually terrified of you for a while before you became friends

you intimidated him to say the least

you and your boyfriend were very like minded, which would explain your random relationship with mirio

your presence was warm, and you often jumped into things head first and took everything that came your way with nonchalant attitude

though, your temper seemed to be a lot shorter and you were a lot more, uh- assertive for sure

he hadn’t known when it was he fell in love with you but no can say he never tried to prevent it

maybe it was when you’d make sure he got home safe, putting his life before yours on missions and coming to save his ass even when you needed to be saved yourself

or it might’ve been something as trivial as telling a waiter they got his order wrong at a restaurant

he wasn’t sure, but he was in too deep now and he was okay with just being your friend because you and mirio loved each other

he did pretty well at hiding his feelings for a while, 

well-

until he received a butt dial from his dear blond friend

at first there was silence and maybe some ruffling here and there, he’d contemplated hanging up until he heard mirio’s quiet whimpering from the other side of the cellphone

in a flustered haze he continued to listen, hearing your sultry voice loud and clear

low and stern, saying that if mirio wasn’t patient you wouldn’t let him cum at all, the blond boy begging for you and promising that he’d be good

he hadn’t mean to keep thinking about the phone call after that day but he couldn’t help but imagine what it be like underneath you and those attentive hands in the heat of the night

he tried not to touch himself at first- the guilt being too much, but your frequent visits to his dreams were becoming too much to deal with on top of his soiled sheets

so now- tamaki relieves himself of you the only way he knows how

your warm hand wrapped around his throbbing length trailing teasing kisses up his thighs, edging closer and closer to where he needed you, “you can cum again, can’t you tama? “

his lower half was starting to tingle almost painfully, the line between pain and pleasure was blurring, his eyes unfocused and body flushed in sweat, but he was so eager to take all that you were giving him, eager to be a good boy for you.

“ y-your mouth- bunny please “

he felt almost ashamed, yet the twitching of his ear and the lustful voice you used when you spoke was enough to spur him and the swirling heat in his stomach.

he wanted to be grateful and take all that you were offering to give him, anything to please you. anything to make you praise him.

the wetness of your mouth was all too surreal, he could almost feel your warm mouth sucking his cock into your throat, losing control bucking his hips up into your mouth with a whine, “ fuck, yes- ‘s good “

your pretty orbs staring up at him as he let out loud moans, his feet digging themselves into the bed sheets to fuck himself into your mouth at a harsh enough pace to give you a sore throat later.

his free hand slapping over his mouth, shaking body arching off the bed and knees clamping shut as he came with a tired scream of your name under his hand.

hot liquid dripping down his stomach and leaking from the tip of his softening length.licking the head of his already overstimulated cock, “ what a good boy you are, isn’t that right tama? “

his body falling limp with a whimper, “ i.. feel so dirty “

⤑ 𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰

you and his friend midoriya were polar opposites

you were smart mouthed and sarcastic, blunt and insensitive and you were always picking fights with him

though with time, he had begun to grow quite fond with you, a crush maybe

starting to indulge in petty arguments with you and push your buttons more often to see that cute face you made when you were frustrated

just when he came to terms that he developed a bit of attraction to you, you started to plague his mind in more ways than one

in all honesty- he did no more than merely acknowledge your current relationship with his friend

if he wanted you, he'd have you. it was as simple as that

he would never make passes at you simply because he liked you, he was fine with the distance between you both

but he’d figured his friend would have enough sense to know when and where was the right time to get hot and heavy with you

you sat between izuku’s legs, tongue lapping at his glistening cock pitifully, body shaking and tears streaming down your face

the way you could barely speak stunned him- you’d always had something to say

pleading the green haired boy to fuck you, give you some kind of stimulation

shinso watched you both shamelessly, retiring for the night with you and your submissiveness heavy on the brain

after the incident, he’d let you take control of his desires, taking cold showers to relieve himself of the stress you’d cause him from then on

he’d have his hand wrapped around your throat for sure, just barely cutting off your air circulation, hips snapping up into your ass in a pace that had your head spinning and spit dripping from the bottom of your chin.

desperately trying to turn your face away from the mirror in embarrassment, “ look at my pretty slut, drooling for me “, his fingernails digging into your cheeks and holding your head in place so you could watch how your body wreathed in pleasure from him and him alone.

he’d already made you cum with just his cock alone, not giving you time to collect yourself after each orgasm. his strokes deep and harsh, bruising the insides of your walls and his teeth leaving marks all over your neck- you had nowhere to run.

you were powerless and had no other choice but to take him whole, “ ‘nt t-take- no more “. your fingers grasping at the bathroom counter to prevent you from flopping face first into the sink.

“ he cant fuck you like this “, the loud wet smacking against your ass became impossibly louder, “ fucking yourself stupid on my dick- fuuck “

his teeth catching his bottom lip hard enough to break the skin, wet strands of purple hair sticking to his forehead.

thumb pressing down on the tip of his cock edging himself once again trying to control his moans of pure ecstasy at the thought of overstimulating you until you could no longer speak basic english, “ i wanna feel that pretty mouth of hers, too “

⤑ 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘬𝘪 𝘬𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪

he knew how wrong it was wrong but, it was his guilty pleasure

you were always so sweet to him, cradling his head to your chest when the others would pick on him and such

all of his friends took a liking to you as seros girlfriend and accepted you into their friend group

you grew especially close to denki, who happened to have a similar personality as you

the inevitable happened- of course, the classic love cliche

 he knew you loved sero and he’d never come between you two but he just couldn’t help himself

once sero had been trying to show him a couple of pictures on his phone, swiping too far 

accidentally showing denki a very vulgar photo of you

tears in your pretty eyes and your hands tied behind your back with your ass wiggling in the air

a godly arch and seros hand in the center of your back taunting him every time the image plagued his brain

the flash of the camera making your gorgeous cunt glisten 

so here he was, late into the night with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth and quiet groans heavy in his chest

sweats and boxers pulled down just low enough for his erection to leak precum against his stomach

shutting his eyes and tilting his head back to let his mind run wild, stroking himself slowly

you’d looked so pretty laid out beneath him legs pressed into your chest and tears of pleasure falling out of your eyes. his tongue catching each one before they could trail down and mix with the sheer layer of sweat on your sweet skin.

your pretty whines for him spurred him on, crying and moaning for him to ruin you in anyway he wanted, to take care of you because no one else could do it the way he did. he thought it was so mean of him to make you cry but you looked so angelic to him crying tears of joy all for his cock, all for him.

“ please, kaminari “, your pretty lips swollen as he leaned down to press another kiss to your mouth thrusting himself deeper into your fluttering cunt, “ don’t worry princess- gonna pump you full of cum “

his cock hitting the special spot inside your warmth, filling you up so good you could just scream, he might leave bruise on the back of your knees and an aching pain in your hips from how rough he was fucking into you.

your scorching insides sucking him back in each time, just imagining the pulse of your pussy was driving him crazy, “ look at this pretty pussy taking me so well- gonna take good care of her “

he could almost feel your arousal dripping down his lower abdomen, your hands pulling at his messy blond hair in ecstasy, your lovely voice calling out for him, “ please kami, take good care of me “

“ kami “

“ kami “

his hips jolting up into his hand harshly as he came, cum spilling over his fingertips, releasing a heavy pant wishlist brushing stray strands of his blond hair away from his face, “ fuuck, please “ 

tags:

[kindaeccentric]

When I was writing my university bachelor's degree thesis (that I'm still to defend) about Penny Dreadful as a modern adaptation of Frankenstein I noticed how the original novel's homoeroticism is realized by the series in an interesting way.

In the way he is presented, it seems to me that Victor secretly desires men, but thinks that only through creating a perfect one by himself he's allowed to touch other man's skin. His endeavour to pierce the veil between life and death is an excuse, since Victor from the series grew up lonely after the death of his mother and he searches for companionship, for someone who would love him unconditionally, like his mother used to. He believes he can find such love only in a person he creates himself, brings from the dead, and who would see him as his only friend, calm and obedient. Yet his first instinct is to make a man, not a woman, and a handsome man at that.

I can imagine both Rory Kinnear and Alex Price are not everybody's cup of tea (I do find them attractive, they are quite charismatic), but the way the original Creature and Proteus are shown makes them attractive. Proteus we see through Victor's eyes, when he is tending to his body before its even reanimated, when he sketches him (a sure sign of affection) and when he teaches him how to eat in a way that becomes seductive, because of how the camera lingers on his lips and then, in a closeup, on his fingers running down his long throat, immediately bringing to mind erotic imagery. Some may argue that Victor tries to emulate the relationship between his mother and himself taking the parental role and projecting onto Proteus the role of his childhood self, and as much as it is partially true, their relationship bears these marks of hidden desire on Victor's part from the start. The image at the end of the first episode when Proteus is born shows Victor trembling, teary-eyed, looking at the body, a torn and stitched back together, but human body, of a naked man. He's afraid, but not necessarily of the man, but of finally getting what he wanted, it's a fear resulting from excitement. Then the man is touching his face tenderly and Victor, still trembling, cannot stop himself from a little smile. Their faces are softly illuminated by the orange light of the gas lamp, creating an intimate atmosphere of a warm bedroom. Victor practically gasps hearing his own name smoken by Proteus. I doubt all of it was intentional in the way I read it, but it doesn't change the fact that the final scene can be easily interpreted this way.

Then the original Creature, with the violence surrounding his return, presents him as highly masculine, smart, powerful, a direct opposite to the delicate, clueless Proteus Victor could easily form into whatever he wanted. The Creature throughout the entire series is perceived as ugly by some and easily tolerated by others, making his ugliness purely subjective, since, despite his small deformities he remains strangely alluring with his gothic qualities (black long hair, black lips, white skin, yellow eyes, proportional features) of a dark brooding gentleman. With blood on his face he becomes vampire-like (vampires always a symbol of hidden desires and 'depraved' sexuality, the Creature and Victor becoming a mirror image of Vanessa and vampire Mina, both Creature's and Mina's monstrosity an indirect result of Victor's and Vanessa's desire towards having a same-sex companion). The Creature touches Victor's face, a callback to Proteus doing it, but the Creature is not gentle, he smears blood all over Victor's face (blood in vampire narratives was always a symbol for other bodily fluids, that's why it seems so sexy, it also gained another meaning in the 80s, due to the HIV epidemic, which no filmmaker can shake off if they tried, I could discuss it more with The Lost Boys, but no time for that right now).

The dynamic between Victor and the Creature is a reversal of Victor's budding relationship with Proteus, experience winning over innocence. Victor is under another man's rule, and it terrifies him, because it would force him into a position of having to admit his attraction, whereas as the one in control he could have still easily deny it. The Creature, with all his attributes, symbolizes carnal love, he's all 'body', where Proteus was virginal, pious love (to an extent). In one of the scenes where we see Proteus he looks up into the skylight at Victor's apartment and appears angelic, as if in a halo of white light.

It's revealed Victor never had a woman, and the series wants the viewer to believe it's because of his awkwardness and passion for science that consumed him, but his dedication to creating himself male companions instead of searching for a living female one is exactly what makes him seem more queer coded.

It's clear that the lack of paternal figure results in Victor quickly becoming close with older men he encounters (Sir Malcolm, Van Helsing), but it also puts him into a position where he's constantly surrounded by men, with whom he feels more at ease, and is intimidated by women. The rivalry between him and Ethan is that of siblings, until the moment when Ethan teaches him how to shoot a gun. It might be a stretch (it is a bit of a stretch, I admit), but a gun often, especially in horror, alongside a knife, represents manhood and masculine power. Victor allows Ethan to touch him and encourages him to show off with the gun, which is a scene all too familiar from many other movies where the role of Victor is reserved for a woman and the interaction is flirtatious (can't pull examples out of thin air, but if you saw over 1400 movies like me you know I'm not lying). All this adds to the general image of Victor.

The Creature and Victor, when they are on a walk, have a very revealing conversation in which the Creature points out how quick Victor was to grow attached to his more perfect man, and Victor doesn't deny it, he admits that he did in fact feel affection towards Proteus, although the meaning of it as the scorned past partner expressing jealousy over the love he didn't get while someone else did is largely subtext. When the Creature says that he's lonely, Victor answers 'I cannot love you' (paraphrase, because I can't find the exact quote right now) and the Creature, disillusioned, mocks him, 'I do not want what you cannot give' suggesting that Victor, by making himself a meek obedient man, is selfish, cruel, manipulating, and a coward, therefore could not have loved Proteus truly. Then again, Victor cannot bring himself to love his original Creature, because he's not the ideal man he envisioned and by then the Creature being too aware of his flaws of character. The Creature/Caliban/John Clare knows that Victor is 'monstrous', not just because he's someone who desecrates dead bodies, plays God and abandons his creation, but because of his queer desire. It's important that in the case of Penny Dreadful 'monstrosity' signifies many different things, literal (being a vampire werewolf, witch, and so on), metaphorical (bad deeds, like letting your son die a horrible death, cheating, killing etc.) and wholy subjective, merely condemned by ignorant society (Sembene's blackness, Brona's sex work, Lily's want to be equal or greater than men, Vanessa's want for sexual freedom, the Creature's ugliness, Angelique being transgender and other cases), so it's NOT that much of a stretch this time.

We also have the whole problem with Lily. Victor is so attached to Lily (who takes up both Elizabeth's and creature's bride parts in the novel) because he believes that only by possessing a good woman he'll be redeemed for his 'sinful' desires, but he's foolish to think that. This belief reduces a woman to a semi-maternal, semi-virginal angelic ideal with no sexual urges or agency, like virgin Mary. Lily is a true replacement for Victor's mother, and his imagined redemption. As long as she's similar to Proteus, in that she's not sexual, and pure like an angel. Yet Lily is not a woman in that sense. She is another of Victor's creatures, so she partially also takes over the role of the original Creature from the novel, a male. She's not an ideal of a Victorian obedient wife, she has power, or tries to have it, but power in the context of patriarchal society is masculine by nature. The moment she drops her pretenses of a weak delicate wife-like girl Victor does not want her like this. He doesn't want a woman that is sexually liberated, because he doesn't like women in this way, and yet, by being similar to the first Creature (from Victor's perspective, from hers John Clare is similar to Victor-a man, I could delve into Brona's sexuality, but later, this thing is already way longer than I intended) she's 'the man' he wanted.

There is also Henry. Henry Jekyll takes the role of his namesake in the novel, Henry Clerval, Victor's closest friend, and a character most often cited to have homoerotic tension with Victor. It's true that some of the eroticism might be accidental, stemming from the prevalence of homosocial interactions in 'Frankenstein' which in turn is a result of misogynistic nature of 19th century Genevian society and in-novel universe reflecting it, but like I mentioned before, it still feeds into the queer reading of the text and translates beautifully into Jekyll and Victor being both extremely misogynistic towards Lily and their mutual homoerotic tension. In the scenes where Henry purposes his plan to Victor he practically seductively purrs it into his ear, Lily becomes merely a female buffer that allows for that interaction, a female presence which is an excuse for male closeness (here I have a couple of examples actually: Dead Ringers, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Scream (in a roundabout way, through murder) and a couple others, but that deserves its own article). I won't even mention more references to the novel, because that's a lot already.

Penny Dreadful, although I believe largely unintentionally, expands on what is already there through the changes it introduces in relation to the novel's plot. I have nothing else smart to say, I just think it's worth considering.

*I use the word 'queer', because that's the umbrella term we use in academic writing for years now and even our lgbt+ group at university is called 'queer', so don't come at me with stupid takes

[torikengel]

Thomas Hewitt x Reader (Part 12)

You broke down in tears. Luda and Monty, not knowing what happened, had assumed you were crying because you didn’t manage to escape. However, Hoyt knew what you’ve done.

“I must admit girly, you did well.” Hoyt gave you a pat on the back and smirked. Everyone was taken aback by his reaction. He really didn’t like you one bit until this point, and now he was praising you? You tried rubbing your eyes dry, still in complete shock. Well, you smeared blood all over your face. That’s when Luda noticed the blood on your hand as well.

“Darlin’, what happened?” she questioned you, but you were unable to let out a single word.

“You wouldn’t believe it ma, she actually got one of those guys.” Hoyt menacingly laughed, and both Luda, as well as Monty finally understood why you were acting this way. Luda rushed over to you with a rug to clean your face and tried her best to offer you support, but you finally spoke out.

“Thomas.” Left your lips as you glanced over at him and crawled towards him. He was in a terrible state, still bleeding. You had to help him, right? Luda Mae shifted her attention back to Thomas and told Hoyt to get some alcohol to disinfect his wounds. Thomas didn’t move; he just groaned in pain, lying on the floor. You couldn’t lift him to put him on the couch as he was too heavy. You got rid of his apron and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal deep gashes on his stomach and shoulder. You knew well how he ended up with the latter one, but the one on the stomach must’ve been from the basement.

You could only imagine what happened there. How the guys managed to escape? How had they overpowered Thomas? This remained a mystery.

Hoyt came back with alcohol, a needle, and some thread to close the wounds. Luda stitched Thomas’s injuries. However, something still bothered you. When Thomas chased you, he was awfully slow… You checked his leg, only to find a pool of blood forming under him. They cut his thigh too. You pointed it out to Luda, and she hurried to the kitchen for scissors to get through his pants. You kneeled above Thomas and caressed his cheek.

“Tommy… please hold on.” You tried to calm him down, or more likely yourself. Thomas just looked you in the eyes. It made your heart flutter, the way he looked at you. Such expressive and beautiful eyes he had. Yeah, you could understand why you fell for this man… so much that you gave up your freedom and people who loved you. Everyone would think you are crazy, and maybe you were. You gave Thomas a gentle smile. Then Luda returned and treated the wound on his leg, which was the deepest one. Thomas was lucky that he didn’t bleed out. You waited a while before you, Luda, and Hoyt gathered all your strength and, with a bit of help from Thomas, placed him on the couch so that he would be more comfortable. Then you finally accepted the rug from Luda and cleaned your face from the blood.

*

Thomas, exhausted and after losing so much blood, slowly drifted to sleep. Luda and Monty didn’t want to disturb him, so they both left. You kneeled down next to Thomas and ran your fingers through his hair.

“Tommy…” you hummed his name lovingly. “I hope you have a beautiful dream.”

This incident made you realize just how much you were captivated by this man. You couldn’t bear to lose him, and it made you sacrifice your innocence and humanity towards ‘outsiders’… well, that’s how Hewitts called their victims. But you were an outsider too, weren’t you? Hoyt crept behind you with cuffs in his hand. He was prepared to take you back to your room and lock you up again. You were so concentrated on Thomas and didn’t hear a thing. You placed your forehead onto the couch next to his head.

Hoyt was bewildered by the scene in front of him and, after thinking about it for a while, hid the cuffs behind his back as he spoke: “I’ll leave ya with Tommy boy, don’t do anythin’ stupid, missy.” He still had that condescending tone in his voice, but his actions didn’t mirror the way he spoke this time.

“I will just be here… sir.” You mumbled, not wanting to wake Thomas. Hoyt disappeared from the room, and you were left alone with sleeping, Thomas.

Oh, how easy would it be just to run away now. And you were so foolish to refuse such an opportunity. To be honest, you didn’t understand your feelings at all. This family was dangerous. They murdered people, yet here you were, trying to get comfortable among them and even stooping to their level by following their practice of killing and eating people.

For what?

Right.

For him.

You sighed as you looked at Thomas’s sleeping face. He was so… well, he had his mask on, so you couldn’t say he had an adorable expression. You cautiously untied his mask and got it out of his face. It must’ve been uncomfortable anyway, plus you’ve already seen what was under it. You examined his face. He was unexplainably handsome to you, his expression was so soft and gentle, you couldn’t help to feel sad about his life. Society turned him into a monster… If he only got a chance to have a normal life… to you, he was very kind, strong and smart. Well, he had street smarts, and it could’ve been different if he wasn’t denied studying. Until now, you didn’t want to admit what you felt.

“Thomas Hewitt… I love you.” You whispered as you gave him a peck on his lips. Then you sat in Monty’s armchair and closed your eyes, thinking that Thomas didn’t hear you. However, just as you stood up and left his side, Thomas’s lips curved into a smile.

*

You woke up all sore from the uncomfortable position you fell asleep in. Well, what could you expect from an armchair? It was still early in the morning; the sun was barely up yet. Thomas was comfortably snoring on the couch, but otherwise, the house was completely quiet. You decided to clean yourself when you realized that your hand and clothes were still bloody. A horrific remainder of your sin. You went up the stairs to your room to find a clean t-shirt and shorts. Then you went to the bathroom to wash yourself. While you were happy, feeling a bit accepted in the Hewitt’s family and that you could freely move around the house, your absence raised suspicion as Hoyt came to the living room from outside. He almost forgot about the bodies outside, so he woke up early in the morning to get them to the basement. He was already getting angry when he couldn’t find you, but then you came down, all pretty and clean with a smile on your face.

“Mornin’, Sheriff Hoyt.” You cheerfully greeted him to give a good impression. Not that you liked this man, he creeped you out, but you really wanted to stay on his good side. The last thing you wanted him to do was rape or kill you.

“Mornin’,” he replied, a bit annoyed that you made him worry this early.

*

Hoyt was busy with the bodies in the basement, he knew Thomas wouldn’t be able to do it, and he didn’t want the meat to go bad. You were sitting on the floor next to sleeping Thomas, observing him. When Thomas finally opened his eyes, you greeted him by gently hugging him. He was stoked to see your beautiful face when he woke up—what a perfect morning. But then he felt the breeze on his bare face, and he panicked, touching his face to make sure his mask is really gone.

“No, no, don’t worry about it. Here it is. I just thought it would be uncomfortable to sleep in it.” You apologized and handed over his mask. He quickly grabbed the mask, but before he managed to put it back on his face, you cupped his cheeks and pressed your lips against his. Thomas just melted into the kiss. He loved it when he could feel the warmth of your body. Your sincere and loving touch was everything to him. When you parted, you smiled at him and asked: “Do you feel better, Tommy?” He nodded, but it was obvious that he was still in pain.

“Shit!” you heard Hoyt curse, abruptly interrupting your moment with Thomas.

“What happened, Sheriff Hoyt?” you asked politely as he stormed out of the basement.

He didn’t answer, just threw a phone on the floor. You looked at the screen. Last called numbers and a date… That guy must’ve called someone for help as they were escaping… Which meant danger was coming your way. You looked at Thomas with fear in your eyes. He grabbed your hand and made you sit on the couch next to him, and held you in a close embrace in an attempt to calm you down. However, he was a bit scared himself as he wasn't in the best position to defend his family.

A/N:  Well... now you just really have to keep Thomas safe and comfortable before he heals... but it will keep getting interesting.

[kaetastic]

STAY LOW

pairing: Luca Changretta x Blue-Eyed!Shelby!Reader

summary: The third oldest of the Shelby’s has been sneaking behind her familys’ backs to be with the man she had loved ever since a kid.

warning: smut

word count: 2.3k

note: i want to see how this one goes so i know i can do more luca changretta stuff hehe

The set, wide legs of the table rattled, quivering as an earthquake caused it to dance to the merciless beats. Wavering in the container, the elongated sticks of pens and other writing materials let out a faint cheer of joy as the walls boxed them all in. Plastered across the floor were the valuable pieces of paper that possessed an impeccably extensive murderer’s key information. It scattered across the table as if raindrops, haphazardly thrown on the surface. Wanton strings of moans and groans trickled in the air as the beating of skin overlapped the sinful noise. 

“Oh, fuck..,” With a hand clutched around his neck, fingers clamped around the skin, her half-lidded eyes rolled to the back of her head, the whites of her orbs claimed victory of the space. Their vapours of heavy exhale poured into each other’s open mouth like gushing of water. “Luca!”

The Italian’s hips thrust, snapping harshly, pelvis gliding across her bundle of nerves, her mewl trickled into his ears like vodka; intoxicating. Their lips tangled with one another, tongue proposing the idea of a dance. Before he pulled away, he trailed chaste kisses from her hollow throat down to the valley between her breasts. The radiating scent of sex and the smell of him smeared across her body was intoxicating. It grew something in him. To know that she has been marked by him, to know that she would be sauntering on the streets after he had been in and over her. 

The simple gesture was enough for tingles to spark in her gut. He stood straight as his arms that had hoisted her legs, bend her knees. His eyes lingered on her pebbly nipples, traces of their sweat and his sloppy kisses while he had given the mounds the attention they deserved, drowned her breasts. Despite their exhausting and sweating activity, the cold air had managed for bumps on her skin to bulge. It was a sight he would sell his entire empire to see, the whole organization that was all the way in America. 

Watching his throbbing, still erected shaft be engulfed and welcomed by her warm walls that had been overflowed after their first round, he let out a hoarse groan. There were streaks around the swollen lip that was his and what a sight. The smeared lines of them rested in her inner thigh, his arousal had stirred with hers’. Although back in his youth, the Italian could last longer with more energy, it seemed years had caught up to his capability.

As he continued to rail his length into him, he could feel her warm thighs quivering, shaking incessantly; her walls clenching tight around him like a vice. Luca let out a guttural groan, one from the bottom of his chest, nearly like a growl which seeped to throb against her thighs. The familiar feeling had caused the man to run his large hands along the valley between her breast before playing with her erected nipples. The cry out for his name was set on the tip of her tongue, ready to spring out into the air; however, the familiar ride of the wave had hit her. Her sharp, diamond-like eyes stared at the ceiling as a staggering breath fell off her lips. Noticing her silence, his hands gripped her hips, not too tight; he was to chase his own release. Luca gently tugged her closer to the edge so she had been down her legs had been hanging off the surface, though, her body had gone limp from the exhausting rounds they had done. If it wasn’t for his grip, she would’ve slumped into the ground. It wasn’t long before he found he found his eternal bliss by pounding into her.

Silence played in the air while the two bodies inhaled the air as if it was luxury. The Italian watched as her eyes flutter beneath the warm smear of yellow light, the eyes he had loved so much had a ring like that of iridescent sparkles of a lake under a bright morning. Y/N’s chest heaved up and down, her lungs pleaded for more supply of air. A trail of bumps shuddered as his calloused fingers trekked along her skin. The irregular path from her sensitive inner-thigh towards her perky nipples was set an antagonizing slow pace. A desperate faint moan seeped through her lips when his hands finally splayed over the mounds, wholly. Kneading it as if dough, Luca rolled it at a painstaking pace, causing a whine to echo into the air. The corners of his lips curled up, he smirked at the power he had over her. His lips were the window to his intentions. It grew wider once her teeth were visible, chewing on her bottom swollen lip.

“Let me hear you.” His silky voice hopped in the sky which nearly caused her to find the intoxicating high once more. A smear of wetness trailed along his lips. As he pinched and rolled the bulging nipples, strings of moans played into his ears. She had listened to him without refuting. It took everything in him to prevent himself from commencing another round he knew he wouldn’t be able to end.

After what seemed to feel like forever, their bodies were no longer connected nor one. Y/N had rolled her stockings up, the sense of clothing warmed her bare, exposed skin. While she quite rapidly covered her body up with the layers that had been peeled away onto the floor, a pair of eyes lingered on her. Although she was not late to the very ‘important’ meeting Thomas had called on (except, all of the meetings are important), it would’ve been a good idea to head on out early to arrive in the acceptable time range without raising suspicion. 

“What?” Her eyes threw a glance at the man who leaned against the wooden table, the exact spot to where she had recently just let go. Luca was the type to sit back and let his eyes wander; however, 

Luca’s loosely covered legs were crossed, his arms nudged his body up as he watched her in silence. The trousers he had yanked on coiled back down, without the support from both of the suspender straps’, the article of clothing had failed to do its purpose. Swinging with his tongue was the match that strayed on his lips. It zoomed left to the right as the wooden taste linger on his tongue, “What are you telling them this time?”

A second passed. The clock cried out in the empty air. After the stockings had rested against her skin smoothly, she stood up to pick up the silk blouse thrown haphazardly on the wooden floor while she pondered of the answer. Without a thought, she had given him a view he could get off on. Her plump curves pointed into the air as her red laced underwear offered him a glimpse of the swollen lips he had railed into.

With her arms in the sleeves of the chilly cloth, Y/N sauntered towards the man. If she had leaned a bit closer, her body would’ve slammed into his. However, her lips hovered over the match on his lips, the hair’s breadth distance caused their breathing to glide over their skin, “Maybe I’ll tell them I had the best fuck of my life.”

A raspy chuckle fell off his lips at her words. It had always amused him to how an innocent face possessed a silver sultry tongue. Luca’s fingers slithered into the open blouse, caressing her waist, the match dangling from the corner of his lips, “Your best fuck is an old man?”

Her tongue stuck out, “You aren’t old.”

Luca rolled his eyes at the lie, he had wanted to believe in her statement. 

“When can I see you again?” The Italian mumbled. With every exhale of breath puffed from his lips, it glistened over her swollen one. As her fingers made way to pop the buttons into their designated slots, her eyes hadn’t quivered away to even take a glance at her task. It was as if she had trusted her hands, and oh she did. And fuck, Luca loved the still line of eye contact between them. It had reminded him of the time she had warmed him without glancing away.

Y/N sighed, her fingers rested over his rigid chest, “Never a certainty,” Luca didn’t say anything. However, he had to not risk what they both had by having her meet up with him a countless amount of times. It would’ve just raised the suspicion of the already paranoid family. “Hm, I feel like I’ll tell them that I met a good-looking man at the east club,” The batting of her eyelids over her crystal, sharp eyes had caused the man to watch her in entertainment; already knowing where this was going to lead to. “He brought me to his house,” The manly scent that radiated from the gangster swirled through her nose as her plump lips partially brushed over his ear. “And he fucked me until I forgot who I was.”

With a squeak, Y/N was thrown onto the soft silk blanket of his bed. The golden cloth had already been bunched up from their first warm-up round, “Yeah? I hope your smart mouth can think of a good excuse to why you can’t walk straight.”

“Where the fuck ya been?” Arthur grumbled once his eyes grazed upon his sister. Glancing at the clock, Y/N cursed in her head as she realized how long she had spent at Luca’s.

“Had to clean out my attic.” Even though Arthur wanted to prod in more, he turned his shoulders away. Her lie that she had thought about meticulously in the ride back home was enough for Arthur. The eldest Shelby accepted it, though, not so much for two pair of eyes. One crystal blue while the other from her Aunt Pol.

“Good fuck?”

Y/N hummed as if to indicate for the woman to repeat, eyes widening slightly as to how she could see through her so easily. Not that it surprised her, Aunt Pol had the ability she hated deeply. The aunt didn’t have to repeat her words, “Yeah.”

Although her cheeks smeared red, Y/N had caught a glimpse of herself through the mirror. Her hair was a mess, the three buttons below had been a mess after the top had missed its slot. As Y/N walked away to the loo to clean her appearance, Polly wore a smug smirk.

“Miss Shelby, it is quarter past three, shall I send in the next appointment?” Throwing a glance at the man who had held the door open, she hummed. While he paced away to call in her next visitor, Y/N’s eyes were quick to flee back towards the line she had left off. The black ink on the newspaper was accompanied by greyscaled photos. With her leg crossed, face covered by the large paper, it was her typical Monday. Except, it wouldn’t be typical.

“This is Mr Victor Holmes, he is from the Trade And Marketing section.” With a mumble thanks towards her assistant, the man shut the door before scurrying away to complete his other pending tasks.

The part of the story was getting peculiar, it had enchanted her. Her eyes zoomed left to the right, she found herself chewing her bottom lip as she read sprung onto the last line. However, before she could read the end phrase, a familiar voice mumbled in the air.

“Not even a glance, amore?” The familiar English splattered with Sicilian accent drummed through her ears. The sound of the newspaper sliced through the hefty air, causing a smirk to crawl onto his lips. Luca’s arms were wide open, theatrically announcing his presence in the suit she had grown to love.

Throwing the newspaper onto the glass coffee table, she stomped towards the man, whispering in a hushed voice as if they were being eavesdropped on, “What are you doing here?”

Luca frowned, “I can’t be here?”

Y/N sighed before she made her way to tug all the shutters to close. The wall that lead to a hallway was covered with windows. The room was darker, a smear of haze from the window to the outdoors and the faint blur from her lamplight. Luca watched her as he bit his bottom lip, eyes trailing on her figure that made way around the room professionally.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N repeated, this time, with a softer tone, her fingers clutched around the lapel of his jacket, brushing the smooth material, hovering in front of him.

“Wanted to see my girl.” Her eyes flickered to gaze into his deep eyes. Oh, the endless path that his eyes possessed could lead her to be stranded, alone. And she would still remain there, in the solace of his orbs. Luca craned his neck down to face her, his ringed fingers brushed over her cheeks.

Y/N uttered with a faint sight, “Not here, Luca, it’s dangerous.”

“Don’t we like that? Dangerous?” Luca inquired before he tugged her into his chest by a hand on her waist. Their lips moulded into one another, like a perfect match to a puzzle piece. A breathy moan fell off her lips when his large hand clasped around the swell of her ass. The Italian was handsy when he wants to be, but what frustrated Y/N more (after she had to learn it herself) was that he can be tortuously teasing.

His fingers kneaded the area, rolling it before harshly tugging it. When her fingers trailed down to palm the straining shaft that poked a bulge, Luca couldn’t help but to grind his hips. He felt the corners of her lips curl up when she had gotten the reaction she wanted, while they kissed. As his fingers hovered over the heat in her pants, his mouth on her hollow throat as her head was thrown back, he smirked before pulling away. “Said it yourself, not here.”

Oh, how bad she wanted to smack that amused smirk off his face, “Fuck you.” The smirk on Luca’s face curled higher.

“Gladly, amore.”

[luci-four]

hello! would it be alright to request some mammon fluff? i read thru all your posts and im in love with your writing 💕

A/N: Thank you!! You didn’t give me anything really specific so I hope this is good enough for you ♥ thank you for being so patient!! ★

Hide N Seek. {Mammon x Reader/MC}

Mammon knew better.

Call him stupid, dumb, an idiot, a dumbass, a--

Too many, too many.

Call him what you want, but when it came down to the wire, Mammon was not unintelligent. He was creative, and smart in the street sort of sense—he could get by and there definitely were times where he let his knowledge shine.

Mammon new better, but he just couldn’t stop himself from pissing off Lucifer.

He didn’t even remember what he did this time. All that mattered was the heavy—frightening—presence of Lucifer’s anger, condensed to a very... vivid aura that suddenly filled the room. Before the second half of his name could pass by his brother’s lips, the second brother was on the run.

Bounding through hallways, skipping a stair or two at a time going up, jumping back down over the railing just to make his movements confusing; Mammon bolted. He was fast—he was pretty certain he wouldn’t get away from Lucifer, but ‘a man’s gotta try’, or so he told himself. If he could just get out of Lucifer’s line of sight just long enough to hide, he’d be golden! He’d strive for that, that was his favourite colour, after all. Taking several turns, ducking under furniture and hopping over others; Mammon had to bite his tongue and hold his smile until he was completely in the clear—but he was almost there! So close! If he could round the corner to the hallways fast enough, he’d be out of the line of sight to his impeding murder--

His saviour—yes! His MC! His sun! His light! His... cushion? His partner in crime? Whatever their title may have been now, he could hear their voice complaining to themselves; he slammed against them the second they stepped around the corner, covering their mouth to keep them silent. The both of them tumbled back into the small closet MC had left open when looking... for whatever it was they were looking for. Mammon didn’t know, and didn’t care.  He pulled the door shut, held his finger to his lips to try and quiet MC’s muffled words, and grimaced hard when he heard his brother’s footstep pass by. He leaned his head against the door, listening as closely as he could for the fading sounds and sighed out of relief for a moment before it was cut off by a strangled cry.

“Y’owch!” he had to fight himself to stay quiet and pushed on MC’s forehead to try and pull his hand back, “Get your damn teeth out of me!”

“Stop suffocating me and I wouldn’t bite you!”  

“Hey, shush it, will ya?” He hissed, “We’re tryin’ to stay hidden here!”

“You mean you’re trying to stay hidden!” MC emphasized their words with a particularly hard poke to Mammon’s chest, “Why was I dragged into your mess—again!”

“Not my fault you were right there!”

“Now I’m stuck in this small ass closet with you!”

“Yeah yeah, but please! Please be quiet!” he gave a hushed shout, “I’m beggin' ya!”

MC’s face screamed irritation. Mammon gave his best puppy dog eyes, pleading for them to help him out. After they sighed, they turned their head away from him, reluctantly agreeing though they were quick to give him a death glare when he tried to hug them. They both stood in silence for a while, Mammon growing more and more awkward by the minute. His eyes adjusted to the darkness he found himself in, and caught glimpses of MC while they paid no attention to the demon in front of them.

They were close—Mammon could feel it before ever needing to see it; the heat bouncing off of one another, the overall sense of closeness—chest to chest and face to face should they turn back toward him, he was going to die. His heart raced, his pulse knocking heavy in his veins and his breath growing ragged while his knees fought to keep him up; he was dying, that was it, he was dying and was kind of, maybe, sort of, afraid of Lucifer catching him—that's it! Nothing to do with MC...

Nothing to do with the sliver of light from the crack of the door and how it catches their eye and illuminates it like the stars. Nothing to do with how sweet and comforting they smelt. Nothing to do with the soft sound of their breathing or the curve of their face or--

No, nothing to do with them. He’s obviously just getting claustrophobic.  

“So...” he started in his whisper, “come here often?”

“Do you want me to punch you right now?”

“Double dare ya.”

They clenched their fist and shifted to aim it towards his stomach before he quickly deflected them.  

“Hey, knock it off will ya? I was just jokin’.”

“Oh, scared, are you?”

“Scared? No way!”

“Your body says otherwise.”

“My body is a temple and is as sturdy as ever!”

“Is that what we call it now?”

“Watch it!”

Mammon’s mind moved on its own, as did his mouth. Without realizing it, the awkward aura around him dissipated; he felt so calm and collected, he actually felt pretty confident—it had to be because he got away from Lucifer, of course—he could do anything, he could say anything. Despite MC’s teasing tone, the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but tug up to a playful smirk; his tongue sharper than ever as he threw the teasing right back at them. The words that passed his lips brought such a delectable heat to their face, a pout to their lips, a huff to their breath and a slight lean towards him that he just couldn’t get enough of. The bold way they gave it right back to him, however, was enough to make him equally as heated; he shied away from them, angrily denied all allegations, turned his head and bit his lip the more they leaned against his chest and close to his face to eat up his reactions with a wicked smirk. What the hell were they doing to him?

“Back it up, will ya?”

“Where am I supposed to back up to!” they leaned even closer to his face, “You shoved us into a closet!”

Mammon grunted and attempted to lean away from them, only to catch a glimpse of the sliver of light in their eye once more. The way they looked at him seemed... questionable. Well, he was certainly questioning it. Their eyes seemed... unfocused, though they definitely were resting on something; their bottom lip had their teeth just barely sunken into it and he could just barely make out that their skin seemed flushed. They looked... soft, like they were waiting for something they really wanted but just couldn’t reach out and take themselves. They looked... they looked...

They looked like he did whenever they weren’t paying attention.

He didn’t know what came over him. Maybe it was because he felt like he was looking into a mirror? Or maybe because this all felt like a dream? Whatever it was, Mammon was ecstatic! He could almost jump for joy! Cheer! He was so happy! He was nervous! He was scared! Wait, those emotions didn’t mix—or did they? The perfect blend of nerves and bliss danced around like butterflies in his stomach and drums in his heart; Mammon was almost ready to thank God for bringing the two of them together in this closet. Almost. Wait, why were they in here again?

It didn’t matter! Mammon didn’t care! With eyes as wide as the moon and a smile just as bright, he grabbed their hands and interlaced their fingers, getting a shot of confidence and the need to tease to help him get the words out of his mouth.

“So,” his eyebrows gave a little smug wiggle, “we gonna kiss, or what?”

MC’s eyes went wide as though they just snapped back to reality, giving him a bewildered look for a split second before such a sweet laugh bubbled out of them. They hunched over a moment, leaning their head on his chest and trying to catch their breath as their laugh only grew louder. Mammon couldn’t help but laugh too, moving their still intertwined hands to wipe the tears off their face with the back of their own hands.

“Well?”

Mammon’s body language screamed just one big ‘please’ that he knew MC could read—he didn’t care. The way they smiled back at him made his stomach flip, watching them slowly get closer to his face made it feel like his heart was leaping square out of his throat. He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, excited and partially in disbelief.  

“Will you calm down for a second?” MC laughed again, only to keep their smile and laugh once more as Mammon eagerly closed the gap between them.

Oh, he was ready to just die, then and there, in that closet with them.

It was everything—no, more—than he could have ever imagined. It was pure bliss; soft on MC’s end but a little rougher on his as he moved like an excited puppy. Feeling their smile against his lips only egged him on; a little desperate for more—and a little unmanly to whine a bit as he had, he was lucky his eyes were closed so he didn’t see the almost sinful look they shot him—he felt them move back for a moment to untangle their hands. Once their lips made their way back to his, they gently held his face where he instantly became putty.

His limbs felt heavy, and he just wanted to lean everything he had against MC—but in a way they’d never have to let their lips leave his. Was there such a way? Could he find it? The slight tease as they grazed their teeth over his bottom lip as they pulled away caused him to let out another (embarrassing) whine. Letting his head fall heavy into their hands, he simmered in the moment a while longer before lifting his equally heavy eyelids halfway just to let those pool into theirs as well. The way they smiled at him was innocent, adoring, and... happy. Mammon knew his lazy smirk gave them the same feeling as well.

Mammon didn’t think he’d find himself stuck in a closet today—he especially didn’t expect to kiss MC—but he was thankful nonetheless. Something kept nagging at the back of his mind, however, but he just couldn’t find the strength to address it when such an amazing, adorable, teasing little brat stood in front of him; he wanted more—more kisses, more time alone, more of them, more--

The room flooded with light, the force which the door was opened caused a heavy wind against Mammon’s back. Judging by the sheepish look on MC’s face, it wasn’t a good sign in the slightest. In an instant, the warmth that cradled his face—and the rest of him—had been stripped away as he was lifted by the back of his shirt and pulled away from MC and dragged out of the closet.

“Dammit Lucifer, ya couldn’t’ve waited a few more minutes!”

“Be thankful I found you when I did, thanks to MC’s laugh. Any longer and your punishment would have been tripled.”

Hearing that it was their fault, Mammon watched MC give him an embarrassed laugh, scratching the back of their head regretfully before blowing him an apologetic kiss that made him cry out.

“Aw, come on!”

[fortune-fool02]

A Debt to Pay

Jean Pierre Polnareff x deal-maker demon reader

Requested by: anonymous

Warnings: bit of angst, fluff

I love this kind of stuff with demons and deal-making between humans, thank you so much for the request. Please enjoy.

Soft chatter was heard around the cafe the crusaders sat in, taking a moment to rest while they could. With the non-stop attacks from enemy Stands, moments like this were almost rare now and that was why it was cherished as much as it was. 

Polnareff sat in his chair, enjoying the quality and presentation of the food when he felt something strange on his right wrist underneath the bands he wore over his wrists. A kind of prickling sensation that one felt with spider legs crawling over the skin followed by a gentle coldness. Upon noticing this, a surge of panic flooded the Frenchman but he remained calm outwardly.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” he spoke as he rose from his seat, not bothering to give an explanation, as he made his way towards the bathrooms, trying to ignore the coldness that pricked at his wrist. Once ensuring that the bathrooms were empty of other people, he turned and locked the door, preventing anyone else from entering. 

He stood in front of the mirror and freed his right wrist of the band to reveal a strange marking that glowed now it was free. The room around him seemed to lose its light despite the sun pouring through the window, as if some kind of veil had been placed over the window, casting shadows around the room. 

“Polnareff.” A voice echoed, a deep soothing toned voice that had this way of putting one’s mind at ease or throwing them so far on edge they were practically hanging onto the edge. Cold fingers danced over his broad shoulders and he fought the urge to shiver at their touch. He rose his pale blue eyes to the mirror, watching as a figure emerged behind him, leaning over his shoulder to look at him. 

The figure was constructed of nothing but shadows, twisting and swirling to create the silhouette of a person though this thing was nothing close to being a human. [Hair colour] locks formed from those shadows followed by a pair of inhuman [Eye colour] orbs that pierced through the soul, reading every single thing you ever did -right or wrong- and leaving nothing unseen. Odd as it was, those eyes emitted an uncomfortable sense of security, a threat present yet telling you it meant no harm to you. 

“[Name].” 

***

It was not Polnareff’s intention to stumble across this demon, more rather, it was her that stumbled across him. The grief and pain of losing his angelic sister, Sherry, crushed his soul, the loss blinding him as he wandered aimlessly. 

That was when their paths crossed. She stood before him, shadows clinging to her body as if she was a life-line for them. How they swirled around her like serpents made Polnareff question if he was seeing things, if this woman was indeed real and not a delusion of his mess of a head. 

“Jean Pierre Polnareff,” she spoke his name in a manner that sent shivers up his spine, nails raking down his back and leaving a faint coldness in their wake. Something in her voice seeped into his body, easing his fear and panic, bringing him back to his senses for the first time in days; ever since he got the dreadful news of his sister’s murder. 

“Your heart is clouded by pain and sorrow, your mind a barren land of grief. A broken soul for the light in your life has been taken from you.” As she spoke, she approached him. Her entire demeanour was calming, creating a sense of protection and a form of comfort. She stopped in front of him and that was when he noticed the smaller, finer details of her appearance. Deathly pale skin that could be matched to that of a corpse’s. Pupils that seemed to slit slightly instead of remain circular as a person’s should. Sharp fangs peeking from inside her mouth as she spoke. 

“I can help you find the murderer you seek. The man who claimed your sister’s innocence and life.” That was what caught his attention. All these details were forgotten at the mention of his sister’s murderer. The thing with a grieving soul was that it could be so easily led by a few words. 

“T-Truly? Can you find the bastard responsible?” the Frenchman asked, his eyes swirling with hope. The woman smiled lightly, 

“Yes. I have access to powers beyond that of ordinary humans, therefore, he will not be able to hide from me.” Almost as if to demonstrate this, her [Eye colour] orbs glowed brightly, making Polnareff take a step backwards at the strangeness of this. What in the world was she? 

“I will use all the power I have at my disposal to aid you in finding the man you seek and you will have no need to fear death along this road.” she told him, her words floating around in his head and blocking out any reasonable thought. “But, there is a price.” Polnareff looked up at this, his eyes narrowed slightly as he waited for her to speak. “In exchange for my full assistance, you will have to collect souls of those who have sinned.”

Confusion painted his face at this, which she held her hand up at, “I will collect the soul once the sinner is dead. You have the job of killing the sinners.” He lowered his head in thought, contemplating this offer. Souls of people who have committed sin? Rapists, murderers... men just like the bastard who killed Sherry. He looked back up at the [Hair colour] woman, 

“How many souls? How many people do I need to kill?” he questioned her. She smiled. The amount of humans she’s made these deals with who don’t bother asking such smart questions was incredible; the fact this one asked it was enough to make her smile. 

“Ten. That is all. Ten souls stained by their sins.” Her clawed hand outstretched for him, waiting for his decision. Slowly, he brought his hand to hers, locking their hands and sealing the deal.

***

“You’re doing well, so far.” the [Hair colour] demon spoke, one of her hands raising up and gently patting his silver hair, not damaging it at all. Polnareff sighed softly, feeling the sensation of her fingers running through his hair. 

As it turned out, the souls she wanted were much like the ones belonging to Dio’s bunch of followers. The first time he killed one of the Nine Glory Gods, [Name] would not stop praising him for his wonderful work. He was just glad that he was fulfilling this pact right, the last thing he wanted was to make the demon angry or disappointed. There had been occasions during battle where Polnareff was thrown into a disadvantage in some way only for [Name] to assist, tilting the battle into his favour. Which he appreciated. 

“You know,” she started, “Out of all the humans I have made deals with, you are one of my favourites.” Unsure of how to take that, Polnareff gave her a look, asking her to enlighten him on that. “You aren’t stupid, as I don’t aid humans often.” There was an odd softness in her voice that somewhat surprised Polnareff. He turned to look at her properly, 

“I would hate for our business to be done with once this is all over. Your little adventure has been the most fun I have had in centuries, mainly because of you.” A small smile tugged Polnareff’s lips at that. Sure, [Name] was a demon but she wasn’t as twisted as he first believed. 

“Merci, [Name].” 

[shield-agent78]

Seduction is the Key

Parring: Bucky x Reader

Rated: NSFW

Summary: You go on your first undercover mission however when you have to seduce the mark your boyfriend is less than pleased.

Warnings: light smut with polt, jealous Bucky, teasing, language

Words:2351

The short v neck silk red dress slips onto your body effortlessly. You paint your lips a crimson shade, give your eyes a smoky look than take one more glance in the mirror before walking out of the door into the common room for your first undercover mission debrief. As soon as you step out of the elevator, Steve begins reviewing the plan for tonight.

“So we all know the plan tonight, right? Y/N you are going to seduce Jenkins and get the smuggling information from him. The party is supporting wildlife just remember that and oh Sam, Bucky and I will make sure he doesn’t give us the slip.”

You nod and give Steve a smile, “You got it Cap. Nothing crazy just simple seduce and get the info. I can handle it.” Bucky walks into the room while you are talking. He drinks you in like a fine whiskey. He doesn’t like this idea. Hate, in fact, would be a better word for it.

“Why are you wearing that?” You turn and face him squinting your eyes at him.

“Because I would look funny in a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt at a black-tie event.” He lets out a frustrated huff he knows that there is no talking you out of this mission. It is the same mission you two have argued about now for days.

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

It doesn’t take long for you to wine and dine the mark. Lance Jenkins is a man of taste. The best whiskey is being served at the bar along with bottles of $500 champagne. Your crimson lips take a sip of its nectar as you sit on the barstool making sure your dress it haunched up to almost your thigh. “Still can’t believe you're wearing that.” His baritone voice snaps over the comps.

“Do I look that bad in it Barnes?” you question quietly taking another sip of champagne. Bucky lets out a frustrated grunt in your ear.

“Wow, don’t you look like a goddess.” You look up eyeing Jenkins. He is tall, relatively handsome, short brown hair and sinful brown eyes. His eyes dart from your exposed leg to the v-neckline of your dress. You give him a teasing smile.

“Maybe I am,” you tease. You pat the seat next to you. Jenkins slides in giving you a smirk. You playfully run your eyes over his muscular frame looking for weakness.

“Well, Darlin, if you are your certainly my kind of trouble,” he teases. “Care to dance?” You nod and take his hand.

Jenkins leads you to the dance floor spinning you around effortlessly. “So what is a pretty Doll like you doing here all along?”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Bucky hisses at the use of his pet name for you.

“Hum, just giving back to a good cause. I’m a big animal lover especially of wolves.”

“Oh, really! Geneious and beautiful. You must be from heaven than sweetheart.”

You tilt your head back and giggle. The same giggle that you give Bucky. He knows it well, heard it, seen it can taste it almost. It’s the same one you have when he slips his hand under your shirt or kisses your pulse point. His vision almost goes white as he clenches his teeth.

“Shit,” Bucky growls in your ear again. “Do this and let's go.” He barks as you try to ignore him. You give the mark a smile and soon the conversation turns flirtatious. Glances here, a soft touch, and more giggles. Yes, you have you play down to a science. “What in the hell are you doing y/n?” Bucky snaps again while you are lightly stroking Jenkins’ hand. You look across the room to see a set of darkening stormy blue eyes staring at near the elevator.

“Let’s take this somewhere more private, perhaps,” you coo, in Jeakens ear. The man nods and quickly you find his hand on the small of your back ushering you toward the elevator.

Bucky’s voice rings in your ear again as you slip past him swaying your hips “Hey, I told you not to go into a closed room with him. Y/N! That’s an order get your ass out of there this guy is dangerous.”

Jenkins presses the button leading you to his room, while you let out a small giggle. “I’ve never done anything like this,” you say sweetly.

“First time for everything Baby,” he retorts darkly.

“Fucking shit,” you hear Bucky cus again. His tone radiates anger.

“Chill out Tin-Man!” Sam snaps. “She is doing fine, besides the intel is in his room.”

“Shut up Bird Brain.”

“Come make me,” Sam chastises.

“That’s enough! The both of you shut the hell up,” Steve snaps causing joyful radio silence in your ear.

It doesn’t take long to reach the massive room, as soon as you do the mark is all over you. His hands caressing your body. His lips nipping at yours. You step forward and give him a little laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck and dig the needle from your drugged bracelet into his neck. “What the fuc..” he hisses as his body goes limp in your arms. You catch him and place him down onto the floor with a slight thud.

“Mark is down,” you state calmly over the comps.

“Nice work y/n. Now just get the intel and get out,” Steve states.

“On it Cap.” It doesn’t take long for you to download the information you need onto the thumb drive and leave without a trace. You make your way downstairs into the cool night.

“Great job, y/n.” Sam says stepping up giving you a high five. You can’t help but smile. Your mission had been successful.

“Thank you, Sammie.”

Steve smiles at you proudly. “Great mission. I knew you could handle undercover.”

“Thanks, Cap.” You pass the drive to him but notice someone is just looking on, back against the wall his lips drawn into a thin line.

“Well how did I do?” you ask innocently giving him a carefree smile. He stalks towards you like with anger in his eyes.

“Let’s go!” Bucky snaps leaving no room for argument as he pushes around you in a huff. His actions and words leave you confused.

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

(Bucky POV-Location/Shared Bedroom)

Y/N stormed into our bedroom to change without a word to me. Her lips pressed together in a thin line. I leaned against the door frame watching her. She had no idea what effect she had on me or what seeing her flirting with that mark tonight had made me feel.

“Take that dress off now or I’m goin’ to take it off for ya!” I snapped at her. Jealousy flooded my veins. My eyes traveled up and down her body. She had gotten me jealous and hard by just standing there in that little red dress of hers and knowing his hands had been on my Doll had gotten me even madder. I swear if he had touched her one more time I would probably put a bullet in him. Y/N short me an angry look.

“Get over Buck.” She smarted off. “You don’t own me.”

“Never said I did Doll.” My tone was almost flat.

“Besides that what in the hell is wrong with you?” She placed her hands on her hips and glared at me.

“Nothin’.”

“Can you at least tell me if I did ok? You know that was my first undercover mission. You act like I completely screwed up or something.” Y/N tried to hide the hurt in her voice, but I could see right through it.

“Didn’t say that either.” I snorted.

“Than, what are you exactly saying Sergeant?” I stood there in silence running my eyes up and down her body again.

“Bucky?” Y/N walked over to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Tell me what’s wrong please.” I took a deep breath.

“Nothin.” I lied clenching my left fist beside my waist.

“Your lying. Are you jealous? But over what?” I stiffen in her arms. “Not a what but a who. Over that mark? Come on Barnes!” She looked up at me giving me a small frustrated laugh.

“Sounded like you two were hitting it off nicely.” My tone was still cool.

“He was a target. You act like you don’t believe me.” Pain flooded her voice. I didn’t want her to feel that way.

“I believe you y/n. Even if you were going to go all the way with him to get the info or…”

She pulled away from me crossing her arms. “James do you hear yourself?” I gave her a questioning look. “I’ve been with one man in my life. You. That’s it. Dammit is this what all of your mood is about! Me doing my job. I seduced a mark. I didn’t fuck him. Damn you! Besides that, I've never once asked you how many women you screwed marks or otherwise! Nor do I care.” She was right, she never asked about my sex life. She tried to push beside me out the door. I blocked her path. “Let me out.” She mouthed off to me.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like to be around you when you are acting all Winter.”

“Winter.” I gave her a cocky smile. “Maybe you need to show you a little Winter baby,” I said jokingly. She pushed around me again.

“Doll,” I muttered softly as I grabbed her elbow pulling her back into her bedroom. She shot me a cold look. “Sit down and listen to me please.” She sat on the bed her eyes on me. I walked over to her and sat beside her. “I’m sorry for acting like a jerk.” A nod was my response.

“You should.” She mumbled. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“I know. I ugh I got jealous. I hate the idea of you being with another guy. You did the mission perfectly this is on me.”

“Buck, you have nothing to be jealous about you know that right?” I locked eyes on her. For some reason, she still had no idea she was beautiful she was, especially to me.

“You don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you?” She looked at me like I was crazy and just shook her head no. “Well, maybe then I need to prove it to you.” I placed my arms around her waist and pulled her into my lap so she could straddle it. Y/N placed hers on my shoulders for support as I looked into her beautiful face. “I don’t remember how many dames, they used them more as rewards for me after a....” She placed her finger on my lips stopping me.

“Bucky, no. It’s good you don’t have to explain anything to me about that. You know that right? I told you I didn’t care and I meant that.” I tighten my arms around her as she placed hers around my neck.

“I know. But considering that you look sexy as hell in that dress it just seems like you need you to need me to be a little more open about my past kind of like your version of Winter.” She gave me a little smile.

"I’m glad you did.”

“You didn’t screw up.” She let out a little sigh.

“I know.”

“‘M sorry.”

“I know that too,” she giggled.

“Hum and did you also know that you look like a pinup girl in that little red dress of yours?” I shifted her up further into my lap over my harding erection. She gaped at me for a moment.

“Buck!” She blushed.

���Best doll I ever had in my arms, smart and goddamn beautiful and can whip ass undercover,” I mumbled as I began placing kiss behind her ear working my way down her neck.

“Ja-mes” she giggled. Her giggle was like music to my ears.

“Winter,” I said cockily correcting her.

“What I can’t tell you how much I like fuc...” I was silenced fast with a kiss, “,,,you?”

“Sergeant!”

“Ma'am, Yes Ma'am” my voice gruff as I began working nipping the other side of her neck. She shook her head with a slight giggle.

“Maybe I need to show you what I think about how you did on that mission Doll..”

“And how are you going to do that Sergeant?” She teased with a coy smile.

“By fucking you all night,” I said quickly as my fingers found the edge of her dress and yanked it off her throwing across the bed.

“B-ucky!”

“You still wearing too many clothes. Take them off.” I muttered gruffly standing her up.

“Ye...yes, Winter” Her eyes darken as she quickly pulled her panties off. I watched them fall to the floor. “Like this Sergeant?” She said innocently biting her lip.

I pulled off my jeans and briefs and pinned her under me.

“Perfect,” I mumbled between a kiss. “My beautiful pinup girl”. I kissed her lovely as I grabbed her legs wrapping them around my back. She let out a moan. I looked into her eyes. “Like I said, you need a little Winter.”

“Oh, is how is that different from my James?” Her voice sexy and low.

“Cause I plan on tellin you my mission plan. First, I’m going to leave marks up and down your body.” Her breath hitched as I shucked her ample breast leaving a small purple bruise.

“Then I’m goin fuck you with my hands, mouth and finally my cock until you scream my names. Your version of Winter baby.” I slowly ran my hand down her hip until I reached her lower lips.

“B-Bucky augh-” She arched her back off the bed as I found her bundle of nerves with my fingers, as she tightened around them.

“Think I found the right spot,” I smirked in her neck. “Mission one complete now let’s try mission two and three.”

[futurewriter2000]

Memorable pain ~ Pt. 2

A/N: So, here’s a part two. I don’t know if it’s as good as the first part but I tried. Hope you guys like it. <<3

XX

It felt like a mistake. Cutting James out of your life felt empty and miserable but you told yourself that this was only for a short time and until that time passes, you have to do everything without him.

" I can play the violin." he wiggled his eyebrows and leaned his arm against the bookshelf while you surfed for another Transfiguration book.

"Fascinating. " you replied without a smile and giving him all the books you held. "Here."

He didn't protest but only licking his lips and showing you his grin. "Alright. " he followed you to a study desk.

" I didn't choose you for my partner for nothing less than this stupid project." you turned around, feeling like you're owing him an explanation.

He didn't say anything but keeping the same grin as before. He placed the books on the desk and took the top one from the pile. He sat down and opened it, glancing up at you and smiling.

" And don't expect me to do all the work. I know you and Mucliber think you know everything just because-"

"Hey, (y/n)." he cut in, grinning and holding the pencil in between his index and middle finger. You looked at him confused, while his eyes showed a glint of mischief. " I'd use your next words carefully." he warned, his expression unchanged.

You stood quiet, pursing your lips tight and standing.

A corner of his lips quirked into a smirk, his brown eyes watching you mysteriously while his fingers spun the pencil. " Not me nor Mulciber are what people rumor it around. We're finding our amusement..." he slammed the hand down the desk, his pencil pushed hard against his desk you felt it was about to leave a mark. " ...different." he tilted his head lightly.

" Different?" you snorted, crossing your arms over your chest. " It's cruel and evil."

"It's amusement, darling. You think you're good and innocent but have you ever tasted a sin?"

You stared at him, thinking your next words carefully. Before you could speak he cut in first and motioned his hand on the chair opposite of his. " Come. Sit." he grinned. "Let's start this project."

---

It was hard for you to admit that he was actually a better project partner than James. He was smart quite intelligent. He definitely knew his way around the library and was quick to find an answer to your questions.

He didn't flirt nor retort any kind of cruel joke. He worked and you finished your project and research in three hours.

Surprised, you were for seeing that the grades he got were actually deserved to him. He really was someone different than he was rumored to be.

It was odd to you because no matter how you imagined him to be cruel or evil, he was actually nice. He made sure you got everything written down, sometimes let out a joke or two to which you laughed, sincerely.

Soon after you both finished he was grinning at you as before.

"So? " he tilted his head on the side, something you noticed he does pretty often. " How did I do?"

You put the last book in your bag and quirked an eyebrow. As much as you didn't want to let him know, you couldn't help yourself but smirk. " You surprised me. "

" Told you I'm not who you thought I was." he now started walking beside you, running his hand through his tidy hair and making them a bit messy.

Usually, this would remind you of someone. Someone who was known to have the messiest hair but you looked at Avery and all you could see was his goofy grin still plastered on his face.

"That still doesn't deny the fact you can be cruel."

" Some things can't be changed, (y/l/n)." he smiled and starting walking backward, making a sharp turn towards the dungeons. " See you around."

"Bye!" you waved in return, feeling a foolish smile force itself on your lips.

---

As soon as you entered your own common room, you saw James and his, as well as his girlfriend, sit by the fire. Your heart leaped. It leaped when your eyes caught their intervened fingers, her giggling and running her hand through his hair.

God, it hurt. It felt like tearing apart your heart all over again. It felt horrible and as soon as his eyes caught the sight of you, you looked away and made your way to your dorm. You stopped at the top of the stairs, glancing back at what felt like memory and see his hazel eyes looking back at you, almost pleading, begging for you to come to him.

‘ Don’t do it.’ a voice in the back of your head echoed and you turned your head forward and you walked.

This wasn’t missed by his friends. Not close by it.

---

“ Out of my head, out of my bed, out of the dreams we had they’re bad...” you hummed to the song that kept repeating in your head, putting the books for tomorrow in your bag. “ Tell them it’s me it made you sad, tell them the fairytale gone bad...”

“ (y/n)?” there was a knock and you saw Sirius walk with his eyes on the ground. “ You dressed?”

“ No. Completely naked.” you rolled your eyes and sat down on your bed. As you saw he kept looking at the ground, you snorted. “ I’m dressed, Sirius. Though you were a player?” you quirked an eyebrow at him and he finally looked up.

“ Rumors. Rumors.” he chuckled and made his way to your bed.

“ How did you come to the girl's dormitories?” you wondered.

“ Another time.” he smiled and put one leg on the bed and brought his knee to his chin, leaning his chin on it. “ You have to tell me what happened to you and James?”

“ Does it even matter anymore?” you rolled your eyes and mirrored his position. “ You know. You always knew, didn’t you?”

“ Wasn’t really hard to miss.” he smirked. “ But you can’t just cut him out-”

“ You don’t understand, Sirius. It’s not just that. “ you turned your gaze away from his piercing blue eyes and started playing with your fingers. “ Everything changed this year. We’re not kids, we can’t pretend that everything is going to be okay when it’s clearly not. “

“ But James is your best friend.”

“ No, Sirius. He’s your best friend.” you now looked at him. “ He became that the moment the two of you met on that train and I should have seen that.”

“ But he’s-”

“ Sirius, leave it.” you cut him off. “ Let me figure this out by myself.”

---

The next few weeks that passed have been doing you really good. To be completely honest, you have been terrified of doing everything by yourself with nobody to be there by your side but as much as you didn’t see it, you became more independent.

There were no distractions anymore so your grades have gotten better, your concentration as well. Something changed in you and you felt that now when you were finally free of always depending on somebody or waiting on somebody to come, was the person you truly wanted to become a long time ago.

You didn’t speak with neither of the Marauders. You felt that was just going to bring you back to where you were before. You knew because you knew yourself and as soon as you decided to talk to one, you will talk to all of them.

So, how on earth did you go from them to him?

“ You’re holding it wrong.” he laughed and you laughed with him.

“ You told me to hold it like this.”

“ Your hand needs to be higher...here.” he took your hand in his own and brushed it up against the neck of the guitar.

His palm was soft, big yet the skin on his fingertips was harsh. He softly placed your fingers on the strings and his other arm brushed against your waist and his hand took a hold of yours, placing it on the top of the body of the guitar before brushing his fingers against the strings and playing a tune.

To be honest, you weren’t really paying attention to what he was saying or that he tried to teach you how to play the guitar. He was close, close that you felt his chiseled chest against your own body. Your heart was racing faster the minute you waited for him to look up from the guitar and stop talking.

He didn’t. He didn’t look up but you’d be deceiving yourself if you didn’t see him stumble through some words as you let out hot breaths which he could feel. Your hand on the neck of the guitar removed his and you let your fingers intervene with his, your other hand putting the guitar away and waiting for him to look at you.

“ (y/n)... what are you doing?” he sighed, still avoiding your eyes.

“ Kiss me.” you let your hand brush behind his ear and through his hair.

“ You don’t want this...” he kept his voice low, his eyes still trying not to look at you yet his hand traveling to your thigh.

“ Weren’t you the one who told me to taste a sin?” you smiled and brushed your nose against the bridge of his own, making his fingers dig in your thigh and his lips crash into yours.

The kiss was so aggressive, so full of hunger and lust that you felt yourself barely hold together. Your hands gripped his hair and his fingers dug deeper in your thighs, probably leaving marks. He pulled you into his lap, not removing his lips from yours yet his hands slipping under your shirt. You grinded against his body and he pulled away from the kiss, letting out a low moan before crashing his lips harsher against your lips, your teeth clashing before he bit your lower lip and turned his hunger to your neck.

It was a heated kiss and you felt every single bone in your body crave for more. “ You want to taste a sin?” he growled in your ear, kissing it gently and before you knew it he hovered above you and you were looking up at his dark and lustful eyes. As if he was waiting for your permission and of a flash what everything you’ve been through, he got it.

---

Next Transfiguration class that you had was with the Slytherins the next morning. You sat to your usual desk but instead of your friend Kathy, who was since the First year seated beside you, was taken by him. “ Hope this seat isn’t taken.” he grinned and you flashed him a smile.

“ You’re horrible.”

“ That’s not what you said last night.” he winked and you quickly shot your head to him.

“ Yes, please. Shout louder.” you retorded and he chuckled, his eyes stuck at McGonagall’s desk.

“ Oh, honey.” he now pushed his lips against your ear while his hand found its way back to your thigh. “ I’ll shout it alright.” he kissed your ear before standing and walking back to his best friend and sitting beside him. They immediately started whispering and smiling maliciously while the two boys stood at the door, one glaring while the other with mouth open.

“ I’m going to kill him.” spoke the one with the untidy hair, prepared to storm over but his best friend pulling him back by the shoulders.

“ McGonagall.” is all that Sirius said and James stopped.

“ I’ll kill him after Transfiguration.” he corrected himself and sat at the desk behind you, glaring.

James was raging. He was screaming inside, his lungs bleeding for how furious he was at you and Avery. His fists were clenched, nails digging deep into his palms while Sirius beside him didn’t say a word. And it was the first time that professor McGonagall saw those two boys quiet in her class.

She was handing out the papers that had to be done in pairs. James, of course,, had done his own by himself because he was the only one without a pair, receiving an E, while you and Avery received an O. “ The paper was far the best in the class, Miss (y/l/n) and Mister Avery. Well done, both of you.” she said in front of the class and you turned around to see Avery winking at you.

You blushed a bit and tugged a strand of hair behind your ear, facing back and looking at your O. Barely any mistakes and the highest percentage you got in Transfiguration by now.

---

When the class was over you packed your books and left the classroom. You wanted to catch Avery before he made his way to the dungeons but as you saw him walking with his best friend someone jumped in front of you and threw you over their shoulder.

“ What the-?” you puzzled for a moment before realizing who it was.

Sirius who was standing at the door, growing smaller as your hijacker carried you further away from him, was frowning knowing exactly this was not about to be a bonding moment for the two of you.  

“ JAMES, YOU WANKER! LET GO OF ME!” you shouted, your fists hitting his back but he only fixed his grip on you and kept carrying you outside the castle.

“ ‘ello James! “ Hagrid beamed, his eyebrows immediately furrowing as James approached him. “ Eh- Whatcha 'ot there?”

“ Morning, Hagrid. Oh, don’t mind me. Just passing. “ James beamed in return and kept carrying you.

“ James! I AM NOT A BAG OF POTATOES- oh, good morning Hagrid- TO BE CARRIED LIKE ONE!”

After the two of you were on the clear, no students around as they were all at class or indoors, he put you down and as soon as he did, he got a slap across the cheek.

“ What the hell, James!” you shouted at him while he rubbed his chin.

“ My point exactly, (y/n)!” he shouted back. “ What the hell were you thinking about sleeping with him? You- you- YOU’RE SUCH AN AIRBAG! HO-HOW COULD YOU!?!”

“ I think I can do pretty much what I want to, James! If I want to shag Avery or Remus or have a threesome with both of them, I will because who are you to tell me otherwise!” you shouted back and he stared. He stared with his wide hazel eyes and flat expression before throwing you over his shoulder once again and carrying you down the lake.

“ JAMES! “ you screamed higher and louder than you did before. “ DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” you kept hitting him with your fists, harder.

“ You think you can just cut me out of your life and think you can do whatever you want!” he bellowed, walking into the lake fully clothed with you on his back. “ You think you can just grab the first enemy of mine and give yourself to him!” the water was now to his knees and your feet dip into it as well.

“ I am nobody’s to give!” you shouted and he threw you off his shoulder into the cold water. You were soaked from head to toe, standing up on your feet and pulling out your wand. “ Stupefy!” you shouted in anger and a red light threw him further from you and into the cold water.

He quickly swam on the surface and started swimming back where his feet could touch the ground. “ Did you just stupefy me?!!?”

“ Bet your arse I did!” you shouted back and he stood on his feet, glaring.

“ I should have never let you leave that day! That day after our fight! I should have gone after you but how was I supposed to know you would turn into this!”

“ Into this!?” you scoffed. “ THIS IS ME WITHOUT YOU, JAMES! AND I BLOODY LIKE ME!”

“ Well, I don’t!” he snapped back and walked closer to you. “Did you even think of what you did by going to Avery like that?!”

“ Yes, I think I pretty much have a clue.”

“ HE’S AVERY! PUREBLOOD! SLYTHERIN! FILTH!” he shouted louder and you gripped your wand tighter around its core.” What would your parents say when they found out that you had anything to do with him!?”

“ Oh, bringing parents into this, huh?! Well, if we’re playing like that then why didn’t you say so. Because what would your parents say about your bullying Severus, huh?”

“ Oh, he deserves everything he gets. He called Lilly Mudblood. “

“ And you called Avery filth! “

“ Because he is!”

“ You don’t know that! You don’t know a single shit about him or his best friend, Slytherins or even me! You don’t know me, James! You never have!”

“ Here we go again, don’t we Miss (y/l/n). James ignored you! James was always an important one! James is so self-observed, always thinking of himself first! I KNOW YOU, (Y/N)!”

“ Oh, really! When is my birthday? “

“ 3rd November- No, shite! (y/b/d).”

“ And what did I get from you? “

“ You got a pink Snitch.”

“ Yeah, and guess what. I got a pink Snitch the year before that and the year before that and the year before that!”

“ You don’t understand! They’re-”

“ No. I understand perfectly, James. One thing happens that you do not agree on after months of ignoring me. We fought and you didn’t even bother to apologize or at least talk to me. You didn’t even try to make this right! You didn’t even bother to come to me, to see me, to talk to me like I wanted so desperately talk to you! I MISS YOU! SO MUCH!” tears now started to fall from your cheeks. “ I miss your hugs and your smell. I miss talking to you and being around you. There isn’t a moment when something happens and the first person I think of telling is my best friend. But then I remember that we don’t talk because he doesn’t want to talk. Because he just. gave. up.”

“ I-I- I didn’t know what to say. You said you loved me more than I love you and I couldn’t say the same. “

“ I could have dealt with it. “ you cried. “ I am not a weak person, James. You were supposed to know that but I feel like the more you are with her and with your roommates the less you know about me.”

“ But I do know you. “

“ No. You know the person who I used to be but I’m changing and growing and I’m not staying the same just like you’re not. Do you know how sad and furious I was when you didn’t do a single thing about us? After the fight? Of course, I came running to Avery because he was a comfort. He was a replacement for you. He was the one who listened, who I could talk to about my troubles and problems. He became the one I trusted even if he shouldn’t be. You made me be this stupid and naive to trust a Slytherin. So, don’t you go acting all caring and bossy when you don’t even know that he was there for me when you clearly weren’t? Don’t you scold me about mistakes I don’t consider and don’t you act like you care because if you cared, you wouldn’t be putting me in this freezing water and making me miss my classes.”

“ You could just come and talk to me.”

“ Why should I be the one always running to you, James when every time I see you is with her or with your friends, laughing and being happy without me.”

“ I am not happy without you. You have to know that.”

“ Well, you’re sure hiding it pretty well.” you finished and started walking out of the lake and up to the castle. “ Goodbye, James.”

[maiuoart]

I’m curious now. What’s your version of the Underfell, Underswap and Horrortale bros like personality wise? What’s their soul traits? If you don’t mind me asking that is.

Okay, alright, lets do this. I had everything down for this before, but stupid me made a large mistake. ANYWAYS! Feel free to ask any any of them, though I won’t be too prone to really think about them much? Cause, my heart belongs to the Swapfells; But I still wouldn’t mind doing things like this for the other guys!!! ♥

Ask any and all questions you’d like of anything; Thank you for it!!

I’m going to give you how I see them after coming up to the surface~

UnderFell;

UF!Sans/Red; Unlike others in the fandom, I can see Red as one of those types of guys who’s really chill and relaxed… 

Cept, y’know; He has no patiences. At all? He’s our hot-headed, ill tempered, little flirt of a gremlin who enjoys to play around with words and sayings. He has no filter, and is a huge sailor mouth! He’s a prickly little smart ass, but he’d more than likely flirt or try to gross someone out who doesn’t vibe right with him… Cause, y’know; 

“Whats life is ya gotta fight 24/7? it’s funnier t’gross the fucks out than gettin’ their juice on ya from punchin’ too hard, them damn jelly-bags.”

But, he still has a tsundere side to him that not a lot of people know… Because of his habits of irritability and jumping the gun, he may jump to accusations and if proven wrong or said the wrong things, well… He’ll try and make up for it. Without ruining too much of his pride, but he’ll still do something nice behind their backs. Or, awkwardly try to outright show he doesn’t want to lose them somehow or whatever. Y’know, he doesn’t fuckin’ care either way, but it’s hard to find some good pals, alright? ...Stop looking at him like that, y’fuck.

What I really like with this Red? He is the king of word plays. Constantly getting hit and degraded from his brother to stop being so vulgar lead him to become a huge flirt ‘Under The Table’, meaning he can say anything to make your mind sink right into the gutter, but if called out on it, he will play the innocent card and will point out that his wording is innocent; You’re just the fuck with a perverted mind. 

And he revels in that. Red had gotten to call his brother out on it more than once, and even though Edge KNOWS THAT’S NOT WHAT HE MEANT, he began to ignore it after some time.

It still irritated him, but Edge can’t do a damn thing about it… And it’s actually quite hilarious to him secretly to watch others have reactions to his brothers horrible humor.

All in all, Red is a Deviant, Devious, Perverted, Hot-headed, Careless, Prideful, but very-... Loving. Protective... Okay, so he might have a few nice soft and good bones in his body; But not like he’ll outright say it! Get off his spine, dammit!

...Red’s a mother fucking cat that loves attention but will attack you if you outwardly point it out. Don’t point it out and you won’t get bit.

Red’s Soul Trait is; Rage.     It can be mistaken for Determination; But the difference between the two side by side is that a Rage Trait is a lot brighter in hue than a DT.

UF!Papyrus/Edge; Our Egoistic, Narcissistic, Loud, Angry beanpole… But, there is something I have found quite enjoyable in my version than others in the fandom.

Much like in the fandom; He is still that boisterous asshole… However, he has a more different approach when going into an area unknown or an unknown being comes into his area. He is observant, quiet, and will take in a situation in front of him; If one is going on.

Once he is done observing, he will snap at everything he deems need be. Either to help or hinder a situation… But if there is none? Well, call him the Drama maker; Cause there should be. He’s prone to try and test people around him; See how his words can affect them, if he can push any buttons, and pretty much see how tough the ones around him are. He likes to test people’s patiences, after all.

But he does know how far to go before it gets too heated, stopping and bringing up other points in a situation or saying something about himself to get the person’s mind off his ‘Almost’ mistake; Which, it always seems to ease a situation down, allowing them to have some type of word before ‘He gets mad and walks off’. 

Edge, honestly; Doesn’t care what anyone thinks or says about himself. He knows that they have seen only his worst, and the fact it’s a front and a fake personality really makes him prideful of how easy he can hide his true self more. Being in the Guard, one had to train themselves to be something completely different, after all. 

You can say… Edge has a switched personality; His true one?Some days, not even He knows what it really is anymore… 

‘Fake it til you Make it’ was seriously made to be true to him, and at some points, Edge doesn’t remember what is real or not for his feelings. Red will occasionally see his true personality come back… His caring side, his side that’s actually much more relaxed. But with his Soul trait, it’s rare to see anymore. But deep down, Edge knows; He just wants the best for others... Likes to help, even if it’s not wanted from him!

....And maybe stir the pot up to keep things lively.

When it comes right down to it, Edge is; Observant as all hell, Dramatic, Egoistic, Speaks his mind, Teasing, Can be Rude, Low-key Caring... Actually, he’s more of a Romantic than his brother... And he’s actually super sweet when you get passed his sour exterior... Did I mention this boy is great to have to talk about troubles with? High-key LOVES to talk trash about any problems... And he’s protective as all hell. 

Is that friend who is; “WHO MADE YOU CRY? I WILL BEAT THEM UP.”

...I think I’m falling for this PapaBear. That's exactly what I’m thinking his true personality is. 

Edges Soul Trait is; Wrath.   This color is much deeper and more blood related, clear that between a DT Soul and his, it is easy to tell by how much darker his Soul is. Crimson, honestly.

UnderSwap;

US!Sans/Blue; Still the hyperactive, loveable, adorable Magnificent Blue! Never a dull moment with him, his energy doesn’t allow it!

Though he is mistaken for a child almost all the time due to his bright and more than positive outlook on life, similar and if not a mirrored version of UT!Papyrus, he makes due with it! Energetic, eccentric, and good for his works due to his mature side shines brightly; He still can’t help but be very put off when someone says he’s ‘too young to date’. 

He won’t lie when he gives his best motivational talks that make people’s eyes boggle and question his age, however. It always makes him laugh, either good heartedly or questionably is unknown.

Blue uses this to his advantage though, ironically. Might be considered more of a creep thing and that is; Using his childlike personality to be able to get close to someone for a bit. Meaning; Gets really friendly. Will hold their hands innocently, ask to sit in their laps, and cling to the person he likes like glue.

….Did I mention he has a bit of a possessive personality? Cause, he does.

What’s really funny? Is people will automatically think he’s innocent. I’m going down the sin train with this boy; He is a SIN-nimon. Though he barely has any experience in the bedroom, maybe once or twice with a one nighter, which he will not talk about, for reasons… It’s more of the fact that he had to learn things and is more prone to wanting to do everything he does with such a talent, it’ll leave them breathless. He loves to try new things, after all! ;) Unless reasons.

He’s amazingly smart and will be able to tell if someone is using him or taking him for granted. Though, he will allow it to pass for a while, believing that they just don’t know better or believing they’ll change given time! 

However, his patiences is run thin when even his Brother tries to keep him sheltered. He’s not blind to things like that, he sees it. He gets angry with it. Some fights will even come from it given the subject or mood both brothers are in; But still, it doesn’t change his brothers views at all. And that-.. Can kind of ruin his mood for a good while.

Above all, this dude is just purely; Considerate, Caring, Observant, Hyperactive, Goofy, Manipulative, Possessive, and might be a bit pervy when behind closed doors.

Blues Soul Trait Is; Patiences!   Like his Cyan color, he is amazingly patient with a LOT of things… Being so positive does have it’s downside though, and that tends to make his eccentric side shine a bit more…

US!Papyrus/Stretch; Hnnng, this is a hard one because all I’ve ever seen of this boy is how ultra overprotective and how much of an asshole he can be??? Like, I just. I really can’t for him? But i’m going to try.

Much like UT!Sans, he is very laid back and relaxed. He has a good bit of paranoia, some obsessive behavior, and minor possessive traits he shares with his little brother; But, he plays it all off with a chill atmosphere. 

He’s more prone to picking someone's brain apart and putting it back together to know exactly what's up and going; Sometimes it’ll even come off as rude, but nothing too hostile. 

He enjoys to prank the every loving fuck out of everyone and anyone; That's his form of puns. Jokes and japes are his favorite. I do know he enjoys to gross people out or even disturb them a little bit with gross pranks.

...Honestly, that is all I really have for this fellow. Really; I just want to call him an ass. ndskjgh If I can come up with something different, I will come back and redo this; But for now-... I just can’t get over my high horse in saying he’s an absolute fucker...

Stretch’s Soul Trait is; Justice with Bravery!   It’s a mixture between the two, both fighting for the main trait. It’s why his color is a Honey glow!

HorrorTale;

Please, someone tell me where these names come from; I’m not lazy or anything, but I read so many fanfics now that I can’t recall who came up with what names anymore; But I absolutely adored these more than Axe and Crooks; Which are more of names I can see as insults? So, I can see the other AU’s calling them that... But what they prefer to be called? Mars and Jupiter FTW! 

HT!Sans/Mars; He’s actually a very relaxed version of his old self. He can’t get too startled or else he may go into a panic. Due to his head injury, his reaction time is slowed down. It hurts when he thinks too hard, so he’s more just allowing everything to flow past him.

Forget and Forgive is what he goes by anymore. Somedays, that saying is hard; Only when the memories begin to turn and rupture in his mind like crashing waves does he feel the need to try and get himself to cook or work on easy projects to help ease distract himself. 

He’s forgetful, so Mars has to constantly write himself notes when he can; In his phone, on stickynotes, random pieces of paper, hell; He even carries a small notepad just in case something happens. His brother has the better memory, so he’ll ask Jupiter to recall something for him- Sometimes it’s repeated to the point Jupiter will gently remind his brother that; “Yes, You Have Told Me Already, Don’t Worry So Much! I Got Your Back, Brother!”

He’s quiet, spacey, but still holds his smarts to an extent. His mental ability is a bit staggered; But he doesn’t get violent or hostile unless its triggered by something... That something is if he holds wet meat that gives for too long, or the heavy scent of copper roams in the room for more than desired. 

He might have a bit of animalistic instincts piled into him due to what he ate back to survive... But it’s not like he had a choice, or the others. He knows that all he needs is Food; To get food, to gain food, for him and his brother. To take care of his kin when he has his episodes; All he can think about is Food, Food, Food.

So, what Mars’ personality holds?; Easy-going, Chill, Relaxed, Skittish; Please don’t startle the poor dude, Empathetic, Closed off.

Mars’ Soul Trait Color Is; Dulled Integrity.   Due to all the stress his universe gave him, he is dulled and almost void from have losing his Hope. Feelings of betrayal has seeped into his Soul, causing his once brilliant Soul to dim to a sick and pale blue.

HT!Papyrus/Jupiter; He is still his Glorious old self; But yet with an aura of both Maturity and Self awareness, he has turned into his shell quite a bit, much like his brother. He hates scaring others, and just wishes to enjoy his new life! But how can he do that when-... No, he will enjoy his new life!

Jupiter, the ever once Social butterfly, now is more closed off from others. He will still actively begin to open up faster than his brother if someone shows they don’t fear him; But he will remain distant if someone so much as stares at him wrong or hears that someone dislikes him just because of his looks or he’s intimidating. 

Yes, he has had dental work done on his crooked teeth. And yes, that had helped him gain more of his confidence back. However, he can’t help but always flinch at loud noises as they grate his hearing, squint even with his glasses to try and get his magic to focus in his sockets, and even to the point that he’s more prone to-... Walk, maybe too quietly for a lot of people to notice.

It’s not his fault his magic makes his bones lighter to stealth around... It was a need and a must back in the Underground, after all!

With his need to keep his mind distracted and preoccupied, he stays away from his signature dish unless absolutely need be. The smell can send his Soul flaring-... With the need to continue to cook and the absolute need to make it perfected. Most times if he cooks his Spaghetti, he has to hurry up and cook something completely new, just so it mixes with the scent and doesn’t send him spiralling to cook everything in the house for a huge feast.

His personality consist of; OCD, Quiet, Perceptive, Considerate, Easily Joyful, Excitable, Can become controlling; For good reasons though!

Jupiters Soul Trait Is; Dulled Bravery.   Much like his own brother, betrayal has dimmed his once glorious Soul... It’s no longer the vibrant Orange it once was; But that was alright! Because now, he neither fears nor wants to stand up to most things. Unless pushed, he will stay where he is; Content in the space. 

It’s safe. All safe. Just stay put and it’s all safe. Safe, Safe, Safe.

Thanks for asking, Darlin’! Some of these might change in the future, because I never gave any of them a real chance to shine in my mind; But I feel like I’m on the right track! ♥ 

If memory serves right, the Horrortale brothers are heavily reference from Lulu-Writes; Bones, Picked Clean. But I might be wrong!! So let me know if I am!

[writinggeisha]

Your first mental image when thinking about lips or mouths might be a passionate kiss. Percy Bysshe Shelley said “Soul meets soul on lovers’ lips.” However, lips and mouths are more than kissing (or eating) machines. This post provides hundreds of ways to describe them in creative writing and poetry.

Emotion Beats

The way people move their lips and mouths reflects overt or hidden emotions.

Pouting might indicate agitation, aggravation, confusion, contemplation, disapproval, disbelief, dislike, exasperation, flirtatiousness, impatience, irritability, nervousness, pessimism, resentment, sadness, skepticism, suspicion, wariness, worry, et al.

In fact, pouting can imply so many emotions that it’s probably best to consider alternative body language.

A few more emotions mirrored by lips and mouths include:

Adulation, arousal, flirtatiousness Parted lips Running tongue over the lips

Anticipation of a delicious snack or entrée Smacking the lips Watering/salivating mouth

Determination Pressing lips into a thin line

Dislike Pressing lips into a thin line

Fear Bad taste in the mouth Chewing on lips Clenched mouth Dry mouth Gaping mouth Gulping huge mouthfuls of air Licking the lips Trembling lips

Impatience Pinched lips

Repressed hatred Pressing lips into a thin line

Shyness Pinched lips

Skepticism Biting the lips

Stubbornness Tight lips or mouth

Uncertainty Forceful exhalation through pursed lips

Adjectives (1)

Adjectives such as haughty save words by telling about a character’s motives or personality. Use sparingly. They function well in flash fiction or third-person omniscient point of view, and when you want to speed the pace.

Several adjectives, when describing lips, may suggest something different when describing mouths.

Provocative lips might indicate a seductive tone, but a provocative mouth might be aggravating.

Demanding lips evoke a sexual image, whereas a demanding mouth implies an overbearing character.

Generous lips might be large, or they might be yielding and responsive. Provide context if necessary.

Rather than modify lips or mouth, a number of the following words could refer to faces, expressions, or motivations.

Many skin attributes also perform well as lips and mouth descriptors.

A Active, adulterous, adventurous, affectionate, aflame, aggressive, alluring, amorous, amorphous, ample, appealing, ardent, audacious, avid, awkward

B Barbarous, belligerent, bewitching, bitchy, bitter, bloody, bone-dry, bony, Botoxed, boyish, brash, brutal, busy

C Cadaverous, callous, capable, capacious, careworn, carnivorous, caustic, cautious, cavernous, chaste, cheerful, cheery, childlike, clumsy, coarse, coherent, cold, complacent, conspicuous, contemptuous, corrugated, critical, crooked, cruel, crumpled, cynical

D Dainty, dead, delectable, delicate, delicious, demanding, demure, desirous, desiccated, determined, devilish, disdainful, dispirited, disrespectful, dissatisfied, doll-like, dour, downcast, droll, dry

E Eager, effeminate, elastic, electric, eloquent, energetic, enigmatic, enthusiastic, evil, expectant, experienced, expressionless, expressive, exquisite

F Fascinating, fevered, feverish, fine, firm, flaccid, flat, flawless, fleshy, flexible, flirtatious, foolish, forceful, formless, foul, fragile, fragrant, frigid, frothy, full, furrowed, furtive

G Generous, gentle, girlie, girlish, glassy, glib, glossy, gnomish, goofy, grave, greasy, greedy, grim, grotesque

H Hard, haughty, heartless, heavy, helpless, heretical, hesitant, honeyed, hungry

I Icy, impassioned, impassive, impatient, imperious, impertinent, impetuous, implacable, impudent, incoherent, inflamed, inflexible, innocent, insatiable, inscrutable, insubstantial, intractable, inviolate, irreverent

J Juicy

K Kissable

L Lax, leathery, lecherous, lewd, libelous, libidinous, licentious, lifeless, loathsome, loose, lopsided, lovable, luscious, lush, lustful

M Malicious, manly, masculine, masterful, meager, meaty, merciless, merry, mischievous, misshapen, moist, motionless, mute, mutinous

N Narrow, nasty, naughty, nervous, numb

O Obstinate, oily, oversized

P Passionate, pathetic, pebbly, perfect, perfumed, petulant, pinched, piquant, playful, pliable, pliant, plump, practiced, prim, prodigious, profane, proficient, prominent, proud, provocative, puffy, pugnacious

Q Querulous

R Randy, rapacious, ravenous, raw, relentless, reluctant, repulsive, resolute, responsive, restless, reticent, reverent, rigid, ripe, rough, rubbery, ruthless

S Sacrilegious, sad, sarcastic, sardonic, sassy, satirical, saucy, savage, scabrous, scaly, scornful, scurrilous, seductive, sensitive, sensuous, serious, sexy, shapeless, shrunken, silent, silky, sinful, skillful, slack, slick, slippery, sloppy, smooth, soft, sore, sour, spicy, stained, starving, stern, sticky, stiff, stony, strong, stubborn, submissive, succulent, sulky, sullen, sultry, sunken, sweet, swollen

T Talented, tense, tentative, thick, thin, thirsty, tight, timid, toothless, tough, traitorous, tremulous, truculent

U Uncertain, uncooperative, unrelenting, unresponsive, unsatisfied, unsmiling, unwilling, unyielding, upturned

V Vacuous, virgin, voluble, voluptuous, voracious, vulgar

W Wanton, warm, waspish, waxen, well-cut, wet, wide, willing, winsome, wistful, withered, witty, wormy, worshipful, wrinkled, wry

Y Yielding, youthful

Adjectives (2): Upper Lip

Although some of these adjectives might suit lips or mouth, they excel for describing the upper lip:

A to Z Bifurcated, bushy, clean-shaven, furry, hairless, hairy, long, mustachioed, naked, perspiring, short, stubbly, sweaty, whiskered

Adjectives (3): Lower Lip

Likewise for the lower lip:

A to Z Droopy, exaggerated, floppy, generous, missing, non-existent, pendulous, sagging, soul-patched, split, square-cut

Adjectives (Misc.)

Besides describing lips and mouths, writers can:

Describe the teeth, or mention missing teeth

Describe a person’s smile.

Similes and Metaphors

When creating comparisons, familiar animals are a good place to start. Readers know what they look like and will conjure an immediate image of the lips so compared.

Some of the following act as adjectives, while others function best in as or like similes. For example:

Fred had horse lips.

Fred had lips that looked like they belonged on a horse.

A to Z Angel fish, apish, baboon, baboon’s butt, bestial, bovine, camel, Cheshire cat, chimpanzee, chipmunk, dead fish, duck, frog, giraffe, goldfish, horse, largemouth bass, leeches, lizard, porcupine’s back, raw oysters, reptilian, serpentine, simian, squirrel, toad, twin slugs, zebra

Other comparisons could include:

A to Z Ancient prunes, angel’s cheek, blow-up doll’s maw, bread dough, cherries, embers, glue, lily petals, overstuffed sausages, pincushion, pinecone, plum, pomegranate blossoms, raspberries, raw liver, rose petals, rosebuds, rubies, sandpaper, satin, suction cups, twin cacti, velvet, vise grips

And here are a few more thought starters:

Awkward as a newborn trying to find his mama’s nipple

Bigger than his ego

Deader than a slab of cement

Dry as the Sahara

Foul as an overflowing cesspit

Fragile as butterfly wings

Large as Texas

Like a cow chewing its cud

Moist like morning dew

More brutal than a pounding sledgehammer

Smelly as an old sock

Colors

Foods excel as color substitutes. Words such as cherry, bubble-gum, and tangerine capture color, scent, and taste.

In a modern novel, lipstick and stage makeup allow lips to be almost any color. Not so much in a Victorian-era piece.

A to F Anemone-pink, ashen, bloodless, bubble-gum, burgundy, carnelian, cherry, colorless, coral, coralline-red, cotton-candy, crimson, flamingo, florid, freckled

G to Z Golden, grey/gray, licorice-twist, pale, pallid, pasty, peach, pink, purple, red, rosy, ruddy, seashell-pink, sunburnt, sunset-scarlet, swarthy, tangerine, vermillion, wan, wine-red

See also 1000+ Ways to Describe Colors.

Shapes

Many of the following words function well in similes or can be converted to adjectives by adding suffixes such as –like, -ish, or –esque.

A to Z Apical, asymmetrical, bleeding heart, blimp, bow, cherry pie, cinnamon roll, cinnamon-heart, doughnut, fishy, goldfish, heart, inner tube, O-ring, peaked, petal (name specific flower), shapeless, shapely, sharp, stop sign, unsymmetrical, toilet boil, urinal, watermelon, wedding ring, yield sign

Verbs

Some verbs relay feelings or senses of the POV character, while others are appropriate for secondary players.

Consider antonyms. Rather than belittle, a mother’s lips might praise her child. Instead of relaxing his lips, an uptight worrywart might tense them.

You might prefer to pair many of these verbs with characters themselves rather than their body parts. Listen to your writer’s voice and choose what works best for you.

A to F Belittle, blister, burn, caress, clamp, clench, close, coax, coerce, compress, contort, crack, crimp, criticize, curl, denounce, deprecate, dribble, drool, entice, force, fuse

G to R Gossip, graze, heal, insult, kiss, loosen, lure, meld, open, perspire, practice, press, pucker, purse, quirk, relax, respond

S Salivate, scrunch, seal, slaver, slide, slither, slobber, smart, smooch, sparkle, spasm, spit, squirm, squish together, sting, stretch, suck, sweat, swell

T to Z Tempt, throb, tighten, tingle, turn down, turn up, twist, ulcerate, unlock, yield

Nouns

Inventing nouns to replace lips or mouth can lead to silent snickers while you hunch over your keyboard or pore through your favorite thesaurus. Try some of these:

A to L Bazoo, blower, bragger, cakehole, chops, doughnut disposal, doughnut hole, flycatcher, flytrap, food vacuum, gob, hatch, hot-air vent, jabberjaw, kisser, laughing gear

M to Z Maw, motormouth, mug slit, mush, muzzle, nagger, oral cavity, oral orifice, phiz slit, pie hole, puss, skull cave, soup sucker, trap, woofer, word hole, yap, yapper, yodeler

Props

Add humor, suspense, or atmosphere with well-chosen props.

Does your protagonist notice a roll of duct tape on the counter in his apartment—then whip around to see a face-masked intruder with a gag in hand? Duct tape + gag = kidnapping. Or maybe an amorous encounter. Or__________?

A to O Acne, asthma inhaler, baby bottle, blueberries, chewing tobacco, cigar, cigarette, coughing fit, dirt, duct tape, electric razor, facemask, flute, gag, glitter, handkerchief, intubation tube, kazoo, lipstick, mouth guard, mouth organ, mud pie, mustache, muzzle, nebulizer, oboe

P to Z Piercings, pimples, pipe, razor, scar, scuba regulator, sneezing, snorkel, soot, soother, spit, spit up, stain, straw, teeth, thumb, tic, tissue, tongue, toothpaste, toothpick, trumpet, veil, wart, whistle

Clichés and Idioms

Some narrators might warrant trite phrases, but it’s usually best to avoid them—except in dialogue.

All mouth and trousers: arrogant, brash, brazen

Born with a silver spoon in one’s mouth: born privileged or wealthy

Button one’s lip: hush, keep quiet, shut up, stop talking

By word of mouth: orally, verbally, via gossip

Down in the mouth: dejected, depressed, glum, sad

Foam at the mouth: fume, rage, rant, seethe

Give some lip: disrespect, sass, speak rudely

Have a stiff upper lip: display fortitude, exercise restraint, remain resolute (in the face of adversity)

Have one’s heart in one’s mouth: be afraid, alarmed, apprehensive, or terrified

Leave a bad taste in one’s mouth: nauseate, repulse, disgust

Live hand to mouth: barely get by, eke out an existence, subsist

Lock lips: French kiss, kiss, smooch

Look a gift horse in the mouth: be ungrateful, find fault with a gift

Mouth off: rant, sass, sound off, spout

On everyone’s lips: popular topic of conversation, trending, widely discussed

Pay lip service: agree in public while personally dissenting, pretend to agree

Put one’s foot in one’s mouth: blurt, say something tactless; blunder

Seal one’s lips: keep a secret, keep classified

Shoot one’s mouth off: boast, brag, talk indiscreetly

Slip of the lip: inadvertent mistake (while speaking)

Stiff upper lip: fortitude, resignation, stoicism

Straight from the horse’s mouth: from a reliable source

Talk out of both sides of one’s mouth: contradict oneself, lie (usually to please the most people)

Through word of mouth: orally, person to person, verbally

Zip one’s lip: hush, say nothing, shut up, stop talking

[sebbies]

kids in love

Warnings: language, unprotected sex, blowjob, bad writing Note: yikes please please please tell me how this is (ps.this is for @sebashtiansatan) masterlist

Taking a deep breath, Y/N looks at herself  in the mirror in the room she shared with Bucky. He was coming home from a month long mission, the longest they’ve been away from each other and she had thought that a little ‘celebration’ was in order.

“The team is set to arrive in two minutes,” FRIDAY’s voice rang out through the empty room. The suddenness of the announcement caused Y/N to slightly jump, that’s what she chalked it up to because she didn’t want to admit her nerves were getting the best of her.

“Thank you,” Y/N responds. She twirls around once more and smiles, Bucky was definitely going to enjoy this homecoming.

“Let’s do this,” she mumbles as she sat at her desk, acting as if she was busy. Y/N hears the front door of the apartment open and close, her heart starts to beat faster as she hears the heavy footsteps belonging to Bucky walk towards the room. The silence that follows was deafening as she knew Bucky was standing by the door, leaning against the frame. She could feel him staring holes into her back. Y/N stands up and wipes the smirk off her face and moves around pretending not to notice Bucky.

“So you missed me?” Bucky says suddenly. Y/N gasps as she turned around, it was supposed to be fake but nothing could prepare her for the sight in front of her. Bucky was still wearing his combat uniform, making him look hotter and more intimidating.

“Cause I missed you,” Bucky says as he pushes himself off the frame and walks towards the girl who was now standing by the bed.

“Uh-huh, I missed you too,” Y/N breathes out.

“Got pretty lonely.” Bucky’s lips curled up into a small grin as he notices the effect he has on her.

“Well, let’s take care of that,” she replies. Her top- well, his top- has ridden up slightly while she leans back, exposing a whole lot of thigh. Bucky pulls his bottom lip between his teeth when he begins to think sinful thoughts that could land him a seat next to the devil. He watches as Y/N takes one of the little decorative square pillows and places it by his feet, he looks back up at her with an eyebrow raised, unsure of what exactly she was thinking. Y/N then gracefully drops her knees on the plush cushion, aligning her face with his crotch. Seeing her kneeling before him, he realises now there is no doubt as what “taking care of that” means.

“Yeah,” Bucky swallows out, suddenly at a loss for words. Bucky licks his lips and brushes his metal hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face and making a messy ponytail.

“I missed you baby.” The sultry voice she used has Bucky’s cock stiffening in anticipation.

“I’ve got you,” she croons,her skilled fingers unbuckling his belt and gently pulling down his fly. Bucky lets out a heavy moan while she slides his pants further down his legs until they pooled by his feet. Y/N’s nails carefully leave scratches in their wake as they skim their way up his legs before sweeping them over his boxers, tactically diverting her attention to the growing bulge. Her hands come to rest at his prominent Adonis lines, her fingers rubbing the skin gently, relishing in how his muscles contract under her touch. Y/N’s lips slowly trail down his happy trail, before running them above the waistband of his boxers. Bucky’s knees were about to give out and she hasn’t even doing anything to him. The effect this woman has on him always amazed him.

Y/N can feel her mouth start to salivate when she gets tantalisingly close to his throbbing cock and it’s driving both of them crazy. She grabs the elastic band of his boxers between her teeth and begins to pull them down.

“Fuck yeah,” Bucky moans out, the visual forever etched into his memory. Y/N’s eyes were dark and crowded with lust, yet they still hold that glint of innocence as she maintains eye contact. Her lips are quirked-up by the corners and a faint blush starts to appear on her cheeks. Bucky feels the extra effort she uses to pull the material over his straining erection. She scrunches the boxers in her hands and yanks the rest down, leaving it bunched with his pants.

“Stop teasing, котенок,” Bucky breathes out. He watches as Y/N darts her tongue out and begins to lap at the pre-come already oozing from his slit. Bucky throws his head back in ecstasy, wishing that there was a wall behind to keep him up. His grip of Y/N’s hair gets tighter when she had enough with the teasing and swallows half his length down in one, well-practiced motion. Her eyes quickly flicking up to gauge his reaction and when another powerful moan erupted from his mouth, her hands grab his ass in an effort to bring him closer.

“Yeah, baby, fuck, это так хорошо,” Bucky rasps, he can’t decide if he wants to pull her hair or run his fingers through it so he alternates the motions with each hand.

Y/N quickly reduces the super soldier to chatting, nonsensical mess, taking his cock deep until it hits the back of her throat, before swallowing around his length and hollowing out her cheeks. All too soon Bucky feels the tension rise in his groin and begins to tug on Y/N’s hair harder.

“I’m close.” Y/N reluctantly pulls away with a wicked grin on her face, knowing that Bucky loves to finish inside of her. A delicate thin strand of cum connects her bottom lip to his cock and if that isn’t the hottest thing Bucky has seen.

“Bed. Now,” Bucky orders. Y/N nods eagerly and Bucky holds out his hands to help her up. Y/N groans as she straightens out the kinks in her knees, then she turns around and places both hands on the edge of the bed, about to crawl on top of it.

The visual of his girl presenting herself in such a manner, now noticing that she’s wearing nothing underneath his tee, bypasses his brain and goes from his eyes straight to his dick. The shirt has ridden up as she’s bent over, giving him a perfect view of her glistening slit.

“Hold on,” Bucky growls, placing a large palm on the small of her back. Y/N knows better than to make a smart-assed comment, she’ll save that for later, so instead she wiggles her hips, teasing him some more. Bucky watches as he kicks off the rest of his clothes.

“Please Bucky,” Y/N purrs, “please, I need you so bad.”

Bucky doesn’t respond as he’s too focused on lining himself up with her and without warning he began slamming into her. Hard. Hard enough that her body jolts forward and she has to tighten her grip on the white sheets in order to not topple over.

“Fuck yess,” Y/N hisses, hanging her head limply, letting her whole body relax as his thick member fills her pussy, She turns her head to the side and catches a glimpse of a smirk playing on his lips.

“C’mon Bucky. Fuck me.”

Bucky let out an animalistic growl as his hands grab onto her hips tighter. “You’re something else doll,” he mumbles. His metal hand drifts over her body and presses in the space between her shoulder blades, successfully pressing her face into the bed and arching her back.

“C’mon Bucky,” Y/N whines impatiently, rubbing her ass against his crotch. His hands are back on her ample hips and with a groan, he withdraws before quickly surging back in. A collective grunt vibrates through the room and he wastes no time drawing it out or giving her time to adjust.

He’s ruthless with his thrusts, plunging his cock as deep as her pussy can take it, them pulling almost all the way out before repeating the actions again. Y/N enjoys the relentless and unforgiving rhythm. She’s letting out wanton moans as her face is pressed to the mattress, screaming in euphoria when she feels Bucky’s metal hand slap her ass cheek. Bucky bends over and plants his palms on either side of her head without breaking the pace.

“Yes, baby,” Y/N breathes out, “just like tha-fuck.”

“You takin’ me so good kitten,” Bucky growls in a low and husky voice. He moves his lips behind her ear and lets the words tumble out. The effect of him talking dirty instantly arouses Y/N more to the point where she’s squirming around and pressing her ass harder against his crotch.

“God, babygirl, your pussy is so greedy for my cock. Taking me so good, you gonna be a good girl for me?”

“YES!” Y/N cries out. “Yes, I’ll be good I promise sarge.” Bucky drops a kiss to her shoulder at the title. “I’ve got you kitten.” His lips follow the curve of her spine, “gonna take care of you so good, doll.” He can feel she’s close as her hips are actively jerking back to meet his thrusts. Bucky slides his left hand under her body and down her belly, seeking out for her clit. When his fingers gently stroke over the swollen nub she lets out a scream.

“Right there, sarge!” She moans. “Ooooh god, that’s so good, please don’t stop.”

He can feel his own orgasm threatening to explode, so he begins to play around her clit insistently.

“C’mon baby,” Bucky grunts. “Fuck, I know you’re so close, let go.” Y/N’s grip on the sheets tighten to the point where her knuckles are turning white.

“Let go now.” Bucky thrusts forcefully into her, “right fucking now.”

Beneath him, her body synchronically melts into the bed and tenses up. She lets out an passionate yell as her pussy walls spasm and flutter around his shaft. His grip on her hips tighten and she knows that she’ll find purple, finger-shaped bruises tomorrow morning.

“Fff-Y/N!” Bucky shouts, wildly thrusting his hips against her ass, eagerly chasing his own release.

“Oh James!” She screamed, feeling him spill into a chasm of pleasure.

As he comes off his high, his legs give out, but Bucky still manages to catch himself with his hands before completely squashing Y/N. He drops his forehead to her shoulder, the fanning of his breath over her skin creates goosebumps and from the sound of her heavy pants, he knows she’s not much better off.

“I think the whole tower heard us,” Y/N mumbles into the sheets, still trying to catch her breath.

“Who cares,” Bucky groans as he carefully slides out of her.

“C’mon doll, let’s take a shower,” he says quietly while helping Y/N stand and catching her when she wobbles.

“Fuck am I gonna feel this for the next few days,” she murmurs. Upon hearing this, Bucky sports a proud grin and lifts her up in his arms, a squeal escaping her lips.

tags: @soldatbarnes @captainpunk @capbuckybuchanan @aubzylynn @4theluvofall @modestlyconfused @james-bionic-barnes @supersoldierslover @sniktlogan @rotisserierogers

[loserholland]

Pure Innocence

Theo Raeken

*Don’t mind the fire at will part.... I was to make another gif so bear with me.*

 “I’m an atheist. But, I know you’re not so innocent as you look.”

The Reader is the goody too shoes but Theo knows she not so innocent as she seems.

Also Theo is normal a normal human in this smut. Can we just take a moment for how hot Theo was and always is when he said “I’m an atheist. Fire at will.” like PANTIES DROPPED WEAVE FLEW. Tbh I’m sorry if this is trash.

Warning- Fuckboy!Theo Daddy!kink Dom!Theo Sub!Reader Spanking, Oral!Female on Male & Oral!Male on Female (Riding Theo’s face), slight chocking, kinky shit

Word Count- 2,317

(Y/N) (Y/L/N)  top of the class 4.44 GPA a full scholarship to college the goody too shoes of the school. Yet Theo saw past that, he knew she’d love to be spanked and loved to be dominated he knew this entire ‘goody too shoes’ act was a lie. 

He’s always tried to get (Y/N) to go on a date with him but she would turn him down saying “Sorry got homework.” or “Sorry I have to tutor Liam.” he saw right through her, he knew she was lying yet never said anything about it.

“Princess.” 

The voice echoed through the small area of the library (Y/N) turned around to see Theo leaning against on of the book cases his arms crossed against his chest his white t-shirt hugged his body showing off those huge muscles “Theo.” (Y/N) whispered “I told you not to call me that.” she turned back around to continue flipping through the books taking notes down here and there. Theo slowly walked over to the table his fingertips running up her arm causing (Y/N) to shiver and tense at his touch “Theo stop.” he ran his finger tips over her exposed shoulder he began to massage both her shoulders causing (Y/N) to become less tense and lean back into the chair “My my princess, you’re quite tense.” Theo hummed she groaned at the sensation Theo working on the knot in her shoulder Theo watched as he face contoured causing him to stop. “(Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N).” Theo teased as her eyes fluttered open Theo looked down at her his eyes glancing down towards her cleavage “What?” (Y/N) questioned as Theo moved to sit on the edge of his desk “I need a tutor.. I’m failing biology.” Theo and (Y/N) had AP biology together and no he wasn’t failing it was just his way of getting to (Y/N). “Well um when do you want to come over? I have the house to myself my parents are on a business trip.” she rambled causing Theo to smirk “I’ll be over at five, see you then kitten.” Kitten was a new nickname Theo had given her and (Y/N) couldn’t help but sigh as impure thoughts filled her head. She quickly snapped out of it mentally scolding herself for the sinful thoughts quickly gathering her belongings and headed home.

(Y/N) threw her hair up into a messy bun pushing her glasses up that were falling down her nose moving to the mirror fixing her long baggy white t-shirt. She wore a lace bra and matching panties underneath, her doorbell rang she glanced at the clock that read 5:00 wow he’s on time.

(Y/N) made her way downstairs stopping to checks herself once more in the mirror near the doorway she quickly checked the peep hole to see Theo standing with his backpack, (Y/N) opened the door allowing Theo in as she admired his outfit a simple black t-shirt with joggers and some chuck taylor’s but to top it off his snapback made him look hotter well he was always hot to begin with… stop it! I can’t be thinking this way. (Y/N) walked to the kitchen to prepare some snacks “You could take off your shoes if you want.. I’m just grabbing some snacks then we can go to my room.” Theo couldn’t help but stare in awe as she stood there in just a white t-shirt her up done messily and her glasses resting on the tip of her nose. He nodded taking his shoes off placing them near the door “What do you wanna drink, water, soda, beer?” Theo’s brows furrowed not sure if it was a joke which caused her to scrunch her nose “Bad joke.. kinda because you’ll have to drive but.. if you want beer you could have beer I should stop rambling.” Her cheeks began to heat up as Theo chuckled lightly “Water is fine. I should uh help you.” Theo grabbed the bowls of snacks from her hands as she led him to her bedroom.

Theo studied (Y/N) face as her nose scrunched in confusion and her brows furrowed as she read the question over and over not seeing what Theo did wrong. She could feel Theo’s stare causing her to look up slowly at him “What is it?” (Y/N) questioned Theo sighed running his finger on her exposed arm “You’re smart, really smart.. did you know that?” She nodded slowly causing Theo to smile “A 4.4 GPA, smarties girl in Beacon Hills, and the perfect daughter.” he placed a piece of hair behind her ear causing (Y/N) to blush “But the question is… are you innocent?” (Y/N) stared back at Theo stunned by his question.

His pulled (Y/N) closer to his body causing her to gasp at the sudden action “Now you see (Y/N) I don’t think your innocent, I think that you use this good girl act so that people don’t see how freaky you can get. To impress your parents, I think you’d like no love to spanked.” She was lost for words Theo wasn’t wrong everything he said was right “Because…” Theo trailed as his lips ghosted over her’s “I’m an atheist. But, I know you’re not so innocent as you look.” (Y/N) gasped at the words that left Theo’s mouth she pushed him back lightly “Theo no, this is wrong.” she quickly stood up from the bed as Theo followed her actions “You know I’m right (Y/N).” (Y/N) quickly shook her head ‘no’ as she paced back and forth “I’m so stupid, you’re not failing biology you’re so smart god how could I not have seen that?” Theo sauntered towards me as I walked back up slowly till she hit the wall causing her to groan.

Theo flew his snapback somewhere around the dim room as he stand a few inches away from (Y/N). “I’ve always wanted to go on a date with you (Y/N) you are the most beautiful.. you’re different from most girls at school. They throw themselves onto me yet you were the exact opposite, instead you avoided me. When I’d ask you out on a date you’d turn me down, and no I didn’t ask you out on a dare I actually liked you and I still do.”  (Y/N) felt a pang of guilt yet lost for words at what Theo said as she pushed herself off the wall as she strolled over to Theo placing her hand on his toned chest “I’m sorry..” she said in a low voice as she lightly scraped her nails down his chest. (Y/N) took her hair out the messy bun as she ran her hands through her hair, she looked up at him through her lashes batting them slowly “Let me make it up to you… let me make it up to you daddy.” (Y/N) dipped her hands into the waist band on his joggers pulling them down in a swift motion as it pooled around his feet as she looked up at him for a approval as he nodded slowly. Theo was turned on by the fact she called him daddy.

His hard member hit his lower stomach her eyes widened at the size as Theo smirked to himself. She started off by kitten licking his sex then taking it pass her mouth using her hands to pump what she couldn’t fit in her mouth her tongue swirled against the tip causing Theo to moan “Just like that kitten.” he cooed as he grabbed a handful of her beautiful locks guided her head as she gagged a little. (Y/N) pulled out with a ‘pop’ kiss the swollen red tip as she continued to use her hand to pump his member slowly “Come on princess, use your mouth.” Theo pleaded as (Y/N) smirked “I don’t know daddy, maybe I don’t want to..” Theo growled as he harshly pulled her back onto her feet kissing her harshly, he back up slowly till he sat on her comfy king size bed.

Theo removed his shirt as (Y/N) stood there awkwardly waiting for Theo’s next move “Bend over my lap princess.” he said in a raspy voice causing (Y/N) to clamp her legs together just from his voice she was wet, she made her way towards the bed slowly as Theo wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer. He lifted the hem of her shirt just above her waist kissing along the hem of her panties (Y/N) threw her head back as Theo noticed her actions “Now now kitten, you were doing so well till you didn’t give me what I wanted. Over my lap now.” (Y/N) shyly followed what Theo order his cool rough hands ran over her bum lightly slapping it as it echoed throughout the room. 

“You will count one spank for each ass cheek, and say thank you daddy got it?” Theo questioned as he massaged the right ass cheek “Yes daddy.” Theo slapped her right ass cheek “One, thank you daddy.” then her left “Two, thank you daddy.” by the time (Y/N) got to twenty tears were rolling down her cheeks Theo brought (Y/N) face to his brushing his thumb against her cheek wiping away her tears as he kissed her sweetly “You’re so brave princess.” (Y/N) lifted her shirt over her head throwing it somewhere in the corner of her room placing her hand behind Theo’s neck bringing him up to stand as his hands caressed the small of her back sliding it up to her bra unhooking it in one swift motion urging (Y/N) to take her bra off. His hands massaged her breast as he trailed kisses down her neck till he reached her sweet spot nipping and kissing at the skin being sure to leave a mark. (Y/N) moaned as her hands found it’s way to run her hands through his beautiful brown locks he trailed wet kisses down the valley of her breast ass he latched onto the left boob as he other massaged the other.  Theo slowly placed (Y/N) onto her bed as he continued to kiss her hungrily he pulled back to brush his thumb against her lips as (Y/N) to it pass her lips sucking on his thumb lightly keeping eye contact with Theo at her actions. 

“I want you to ride my face babygirl.” Theo cooed as he pulled her panties down her leg in a swift motion flying it somewhere in the room as Theo flipped there positions so that he’d be lying on his back. (Y/N) straddled his face grabbing onto the headboard of her bed as Theo placed his hands on both of her thighs he blew lightly at her eat causing her to moan “Please daddy..” she pleaded as Theo licked a bold stripe of her sweet juice “I love the way you taste babygirl.” the vibration of Theo’s voice made her gasp Theo then began to suck lightly on her clit causing her to moan “Oh.” she moaned lost for words one hand held onto the headboard as the other reached down to play with Theo’s hair. Theo used his tongue to enter her folds then back to sucking harshly on her clit “You’re close aren’t you princess?” Theo questioned (Y/N) began to grind lightly at the lost of friction from Theo speaking “Yes! Yes daddy please don’t stop.” Theo began to suck at her clit harsher then ever bitting and sucking sending her over the edge “Fuck daddy I’m gonna cum!” (Y/N) screamed “Cum for me princess.” Theo cooed as she reached her high slowly recovering from the most intense orgasm.

(Y/N) laid back down as Theo got back on top of her, (Y/N) brushed her thumb against Theo’s lightly plump lips pulling him down to kiss her as allowed access to him his tongue dancing along her own allowing (Y/N) to taste herself. Theo pulled back slowly “Are you sure you want to do this?” Theo questioned “Yes, please Theo fuck me hard.” (Y/N) answered as she brushed her thumb against his cheekbone “Do you have condoms?” he questioned as she shook her head ‘no’ “I’m on the pill.. now fuck me daddy.” Theo smirked slamming himself into her as he wrapped his hand lightly around her throat squeezing at the sides lightly causing (Y/N) to grab onto his wrist she closed her eyes in pleasure Theo reached forward to hold onto the headboard “Princess, eyes on me.” Theo demanded as her eyes fluttered open keeping eye contact with Theo’s beautiful blue eyes.

Theo slammed in and out of her mercilessly “Fuck daddy yes right there!” (Y/N) screamed Theo dipped his head down to muffle her screams and moans “You’re mine.” Theo growled “I’m yours Theo, I’m yours.” (Y/N) screamed as she threw her head back in pleasure. The bed began to rock at the movement of Theo slamming in and out of (Y/N) “Fuck I’m gonna cum.” Theo groaned as he hiked (Y/N) left leg over his shoulder, she moaned as Theo brushed against her g-spot “Ah I found your sweet spot didn’t I princess?” all (Y/N) could do was whimper “Answer me princess.” Theo demanded as she whimpered “Yes daddy!” she answered nearing her high “Cum for daddy princess.” (Y/N) came down from her high as Theo followed shortly after laying down next to (Y/N) who may not be able to walk tomorrow, (Y/N) looked over at Theo to kiss him sweetly. 

“I’d like to go on a date with you.” she whispered against his lips causing Theo to smile as he wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her closer to him as he pulled the cover’s over their naked bodies “How do you feel about tomorrow?” he questioned as she grinned “I’d love to.” (Y/N) placed a kiss on his neck as Theo placed a kiss on the crown of her head. They both fell asleep in each other’s arms soundly.

[redphlox]

Dark Hymns

Sin Reaper Maka Albarn takes on an assignment to assassinate the prophesied Last Weapon - only to fall for his younger brother. SoulxMaka. One sided WesxMaka. Warnings: canon typical violence/blood/gore, poisoning, death Please accept this unexpected and late stand-in for @fabiolangela and @feather97 ‘s amazing af reverbs, which you can find [here] and [here] respectively! They’ve been beyond understanding and are great to work with! Shout out to @jaded-envy and @thefishywitchy and @professor-maka for the 1am brainstorming sessions and beta-ing and support!

read below, or on ffn and ao3!

Soul beckons from behind the drapes for her to follow him onto the balcony, where he tests her defenses by asking her to meet him later tonight.

Maka feels faint with muted longing but declines.

“We can run away together,” he insists with a desperation that mirrors her own. Promises to take her hand and not leave a note for his family almost win her over, especially when he says they could be great together. Confessions that he wants to be there when she’s sad and sleep pressed up next to her in the dark when she’s sick leave her weak-kneed.

“Uhm - we, we could be lonely together,” Soul finishes.

Maka trembles with temptation, but she doesn’t break.

“What you feel for me is criminal,” she finally responds, not unkindly. Eyes chase after her as she crosses the lively ball room and sneaks up beside a chatty Wes, slipping her fingers between his gloved ones. Pretending the brown in his eyes is too light and therefore inherently wrong compared to Soul’s is half-hell, half-betrayal. And when the elder Evans brother pauses to beam at her, she yet again fails to force any feelings for him.

Minutes later, she dares to glance over her shoulder and can’t help but surrender to the sting of Soul’s absence. He isn’t lurking nearby, beckoning her to come back, but she’s still trying to resist him.

X

Outside, the moon is faceless, full, and overly bright against the black night, never moving regardless of the time. Perpetual dusk reigns since Lord Death cast his Omen - the sky hemorrhages somber blues instead of oranges and pinks now that the sun has been lost, and clouds that remind Maka of looking through foggy glass occasionally deprive her of even that small joy.

Either way, it’s all a sign of impending unforgivable sin, and the world buzzes with quiet tension and unrest.

So do the people.

The aristocrats have convened in the Evans mansion despite the rumors surrounding Wes and his younger brother. Maybe these people are here to prove the whispers about one of the heir's arms morphing into a scythe true. Tracing the prominent family’s lineage back to a known Weapon does nothing but galvanize more speculation and scrutiny. Though that demon gene had been stifled centuries ago, what with Sin Reaping, mass hysteria, Witch efforts, and rampant persecutions claiming many of those carriers, no one in this ball room can forget the prophecy of the Last Weapon awakening and plunging society into pandemonium.

The timing between the change in the sky and the hushed scandal can’t be a coincidence.

When the sun never rose a few months ago, Maka’s mama had clutched Maka’s shoulders with purpose as they peered out the window. “This is a sign of your first test. Your first assignment,” she had sighed, proud.

X

“That’s my favorite book.”

“Ohh! I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who’s read The Dark Side of the Moon too!”

“I’ve read it nine times actually, but it seems like my tenth read through will have to be with you, since you’re checking a copy out, too. I’m Wes, by the way.”

Scheming to ingratiate herself with the musical prodigy had been unnecessary because he had materialized next to Maka in the library first, the pair cut away from the world by aisles of overcrowded shelves, reciting passages of the book in question aloud to each other. Up this close to him, Maka had understood why people held him in high regard - he had glowed when he talked, but later on Maka would realize that was because of her, and she had made a mistake.

But Maka had been blind then, but it seemed that Wes had seen something in her soul instead.

X

Sin is everywhere, and even Maka isn’t free of it.

Her mama had always said their duty in life is to save others by cleansing impure souls, Kishins, and reincarnate them to do good in the next life, to uphold peace and Heaven on Earth. But every time Wes tries to kiss Maka and she turns her cheek, pretending her head aches or smiling apologetically, she's lying. Her tally marks for lies have added up to an immoral amount. As a Reaper in training, she can’t afford to be weighed down by such trivialities, but she also can’t take a life without being absolutely sure.

“I can’t see his soul,” Maka had wailed to her mama after her first date with Wes - a well-intended but misguided plan that was borne from self-doubt and crippling empathy for human life. Three years her elder and the son of a wealthy baron, Wes lacks the arrogance most in his position wouldn’t be ashamed of flaunting. “I don’t want to eat his soul if he’s not actually a Weapon, Mama. You told me the gene could only be present in one family generation at a time - what if I picked the wrong brother?”

“He’s the one, I know he is. He’s the talented one, the promising one… but you can still take both. They’ll be reincarnated for the greater good,” her mama had reassured as she abandoned her crochet to hug her only daughter, paralyzed at the living room entrance. “It’ll be a loss for their parents, but a triumph all around.”

Fear of failure had tears welling in Maka’s eyes. “But you said sins count triple for us, and I don’t want to become corrupt… Taking an innocent person’s soul would make me a horrible Reaper.”

Still, Maka hadn’t been comforted by if’s and strategic planning. At this point she hadn’t met Soul Evans yet, who is only five months older than her and ten inches taller, but she had felt Wes’s soul and all of his charismatic, innate wholesomeness and wasn’t convinced it could rot away into wickedness. “Death, why can’t I See his soul?”

“The Lord is silent, Maka, and speaks through Omens. It’s just us now.”

X

Soul Evans is a loner. Always has been, always will be. The only exception is Maka, and being with him hits her with an emotion she can never describe. It’s like the deep ache in her chest when she hears something beautiful and stirring, something ephemeral she wants to hold onto. And it doesn’t stem from hatred, grief, or sadness, though it does make her want to cry. The feeling is just so deep it brings her to her knees tonight when they run into each other again, because Fate has decreed they can’t stay apart.

“Maka, I have something to tell you-”

“No,” she wheezes, squeezing her eyes shut to block him out. Bringing her hands up to her ears doesn’t drown him out either, but part of that is subconscious. Of course she doesn’t want to stop listening. She shouldn’t have stumbled back onto the balcony where they first met, but she missed Soul and Wes’s arms around her waist singed, and the combination of the two was unbearable.

“I think you deserve to be happy,” Soul goes on, the sound of his voice punctuated by scuffling. She peeks between her fingers to confirm he’s scrapping the sole of his polished dress shoes against the floor absentmindedly, hands in his pockets. “Wes is great, and I know everyone loves him better than me. What’s there not to love? He’s smart, he can play any instrument, and he reads fast and always knows what to say. But if you don’t love him, you should tell him. For you.”

Selfless, that’s what Soul is. What happened an hour earlier was only a lapse of judgment brought on by prolonged sorrow and a hint of madness. This is the Soul she knows, watching out for everyone except himself, reasoning himself into emotionless boredom.

“Anyway, I’m - I’m not staying. I can’t.”

The harshness of the cement floor will rip her gown if she doesn’t stand upright soon, she thinks logically. It would be a waste of material. Leaving would be best, but she’s not ready to desert him just yet.

“I thought I’d at least ask if you wanted to come with me… So I wouldn’t have any regrets.”

“Go where?” she hears herself say, her mouth dry.

“Away.”

“Why? Don't…” She gulps. It hurts, but she’s not quite sure where. Her hands, her skin, her lungs? Wherever it is, it radiates. “Don’t leave me…”

Then there’s another sound she can’t place but recognizes vaguely because her ancestors awaken within her, her blood pounding. The dissonance is like skin tearing as easily as paper, like metal contorting in a split second of contained violence, like friction between the atoms in the air.

Like unsheathing a sword.

When Maka looks up, Soul’s right arm is sharp steel, a sleek scythe that reflects the moonshine.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asks, fearing himself, but Maka thanks Heaven on Earth for earning his trust.

X

“I’m going to die,” Soul says, but he doesn’t know Maka is the one assigned to put him six feet under, doesn’t know she still has her secrets to keep. “And if I don’t, Wes will. I’ve heard what they’ve said. They think he’s The Last Weapon.”

Maka already misses Soul, but if it’s because she can already taste his soul or if it’s because he’s running away, she isn’t certain.

“The prophecy says The Last Weapon will wreak Hell on Earth again, but I figured it would be okay if I turned that hatred inward…” He slumps against the balcony’s balustrade, visibly wishing it didn’t exist and that he would fall two stories down into his mother’s rose bushes. “But it’s too much to hold back sometimes. I didn’t mean to lose control of my emotions at the Gala. I was pissed off at Wes and we started arguing and then my arm turned into - into that, and Wes covered it up as much as he could, but now he’s in trouble.”

This is the moment Maka comes to terms as to why she registers turbulence coming from Soul’s soul. Denial could only shield her for so long.

“And I’m - I’m afraid of the Sin Reaper. I know it’s coming for me,” he whispers, looking like he’s a second away from collapsing.

Maka wants to say she is looking for him, but it originally wasn’t for that.

There goes Maka’s daydreams about seeing Soul in the sunlight.

X

Wes finds them minutes later, poking his head unexpectedly through the drapes that separate the balcony from the ballroom, an easygoing smirk on his handsome face as he tells them to present themselves to the Witch Monarch Medusa. Though Maka and Soul are on opposite ends of the small space, Maka can’t help but feel like she’s been caught red-handed.

Never did she think she’d be her unfaithful father’s daughter as she accepts Wes’s hand but wishes it were Soul’s. He needs it more, needs her more.

Yes, Wes is charming, but he doesn’t mean the same thing to Maka.

She has sinned again.

X

As an aside: Wes catches Maka with his younger brother all the time. The two drift together naturally, starting from the day Maka followed the sound of Soul's humming instead of finding Wes in his practice room the first time she went over to the Evans mansion. There are parts of Soul she doesn’t understand yet but could, if she could touch him. She’s burning for contact, impatient to close some sort of space between them that should stay open.

Soul is like the sleeping winter, and she wants to wake him up because he could be great. He’s not just the talentless brother, the other one. During all the moments they’ve shared on the balcony or in one of the many rooms of the mansion while Maka waited for Wes, he’s hummed, sang, or played the piano, and though that’s not all there is to Soul Evans, it proves he's here and alive, alive and brave.

X

Witch Medusa has only one Eye, and though it’s glassy and missing its iris, it Sees everything and Beyond.

Except Maka.

“-My girlfriend,” Wes is saying, arm around her shoulder, glowing.

The Witch Monarch isn’t impressed. “Where?”

Wes gently urges Maka forward until she’s almost brushed up against the Witch’s robes. “It’s a pleasure, your Majesty,” she says, bowing her head automatically, too numb from the encounter with Soul earlier to let her nerves get the best of her.

Mouth hardening into a suspicious line, Witch Medusa gives off a hmm that rings in Maka’s ears like a warning and gives her the eerie impression that ghost snakes are wrapping themselves around her legs. Wes’s hands run cold and unnaturally empty, his soul wavelength on pause, and in her periphery, Soul solidifies into a statue made out of flesh, long lashes frozen mid-blink. Even her lungs stop working, all of her muscles paralyzed but her brain exposed like roadkill guts and flooding with white noise -

The Eye rolls in its socket like a marble until a yellow iris stares into Maka with the force of an impaling blade.

“I know it’s you,” Witch Medusa says without her mouth opening, though an electric, flickering tongue darts out between her lips. “You, the Blind Spot in my Vision, the Sin Reaper. Kill the Last Weapon. Kill him.”

You do it yourself, Maka scream-thinks, boiling and transiently wondering if she can feel the heat of Soul’s skin through his tuxedo if she touched him in his current state. The possibility is something worth fighting for.

“Kill him! Then kill him again!” Medusa’s cackles echo through every fond memory Maka has - reading a book with her mama and papa, Wes’s genuine interest in her favorite books, Soul and his dark hymns.

Kill the witch, is what Maka’s ancestors murmur to only her, just from the Other Side, from within her bones. Kill the witch.

X

The ballroom now barren, Maka beckons Soul over while Wes and his parents bid the last departing guests a good night at the front doors. Soul dips in close to her, strands of his hair feathering her forehead. Barely.

“Stay,” she begs, but with how readily he agrees, some would call it a command.

He gifts her a rare dimpled smile. “Okay, for you.”

They stay like that, leaning into each other, basking in their binding secret, and when Wes saunters back and focuses on Maka’s smile, so unlike the polite one she wears for him, he’s the one marred by a deep-seated frown.

X

“Do you ever Hear things, Mama?”

Nothing is as soothing as her mama running her fingers through Maka’s hair before bedtime, gentle nails massaging her scalp. Alternating between that and the hairbrush lulls Maka into hesitant sleepiness - she’s not sure if she has unwelcomed company, not sure if the Witch Medusa still has access to her brain, but she’s losing the battle to keep her eyelids open.

“Sin Reapers don’t Hear things, honey, they See,” Mama replies, shifting slightly and refusing Maka’s apologies - is she jabbing her? At her age, Maka might be too old to cuddle and share a bed with her mama, but she doesn’t know if she can sleep alone after - after the ball. Even if Wes escorted her home, she hadn’t felt safe until she jumped into her mama’s arms.

“But Mama, don’t you… just know things without knowing?”

“Ah! That’s Intuition. Listen to your gut, Maka.”

“I don’t know what mine is saying.” Blowing air out of her mouth and aiming it at her bangs to remove them from her face, she crosses her arms, sagging into her mama. “Did you See anything in Wes when he dropped me off?”

“Not particularly, not with our Sight. But he’s cute, and it’s clear that he sees everything in you.”

“That’s exactly what I didn’t want,” she groans, deciding to keep Soul’s secret. “I just wanted to make sure he was the Last Weapon. I feel horrible. I didn’t mean to let it go this far. I should have stopped at the one date, but…" But then I met Soul, and now I don’t know how to break up with Wes or save either of them.

Fingers kneading small circles into Maka’s temples, her mama says, "Sometimes there’s no room to have pity… it’ll make it harder for you to cleanse his soul.”

Cleanse his soul!

Suddenly, Maka can’t sleep, like she’s been awakened from a thousand year slumber. Her mind is an inferno of ideas.

After all, a Reaper should have a Scythe.

X

Climbing up the viney Evans mansion walls and into Soul’s window violates at least three laws, but the thrill of it is intoxicating enough to balance out any regrets or legal consequences that might come up later. Reckless is what this should be labeled - she has no clue what she’ll rely on if this doesn’t work, but the sight of Soul so still and vulnerable in his bed, burrowed beneath his comforter, is incomparable and priceless.

Walking softly over to his bedside, she covers his mouth, her palm burning instantaneously. Contact, at last. “Hey, Soul? Soul? … It’s me.”

His brows furrow and he sighs, but he doesn’t open his eyes. Careful and slow, Maka sits on the bed, the mattress dipping and creaking, splaying her hands on either side of him, stalling - can she do this, can she save him? She hovers over him, long hair falling around her face like a curtain and tickling him. Soul doesn’t wake with a scream but with a laugh.

He blinks into the stark darkness that has seeped into his room along with her, confused, dazed, like he’s seeing a dream, until his jaw drops open. “Maka?”

“Hi,” she says, deciding that she could stay in this neverending night with him.

X

“Can you control it?”

“Can I,” he repeats, grin wide and brazen and making her giddy. He points a finger at her before steeling it - it’s like watching metal melt but backwards, skin hardening and tinting gunmetal gray. “I can make it look like I got a sick manicure and pedicure too, and I can even make my arm hairs prickly.”

“Such finesse,” she muses, distracted by the thought of touching him again.

Two of his fingers morph into a blade, each one half of a pair of scissors. Snip snip. “And I can give you a haircut if you ever need it.”

Distantly, Maka knows she’ll look back on this moment and wish it never ended, and she’s so lost in the thought she forgets to respond.

Now crestfallen, Soul lowers his scissor hand, hiding it beneath the comforter but never breaking their eye contact. “That day, with Wes… that… I don’t know what happened. I was mad, and it just happened. I was trying to slam my fist into the piano and before I knew it, my hand was slicing through it.”

“You must have been so afraid,” she says, reaching out to brush his bangs back and appreciating that he’s nothing like her - honest, cautious, strong. Decisive.

“Something like that…” It comes out in a broken whisper, because Maka’s hand has wandered from his messy bed hair to his cheek, and she can sense that he’s holding something back that is too overwhelming to be contained for much longer. It’s similar to the feeling she gets in her chest, except he’s been under pressure for so long it might crack his ribs.

“I have something to tell you,” she admits, his jaw clenching underneath the heel of her palm. The effect she has on him is both empowering and humbling.

X

A Sin Reaper’s life consists of inherent loneliness and surreptitious burdens.

Living in the shadow between Humanity and the Divine isn’t a condemnation, but a bittersweet privilege. The general public both trembles at the mention of the Sin Reaper but also holds an unyielding reverence toward the cloaked hero-esque figure that safekeeps their Pure world by eating Kishin souls and carrying their sins.

Mama says no one knows what and who they are, not even Papa, who sends postcards from Wherever he is, off on his covert mission. And though Instinct tells Maka that revealing their family’s legacy as Reapers would incite Hell on Earth - a swarm of murderous Kishins her way, panic, dishonor, and apocalyptic chaos - she also can't harm the Last Weapon.

It has to be this way.

X

After her reveal, Soul holds her hands for the first time - grips them, gaze aflame.

“We can still run away,” he offers, grin crooked and dangerous.

“No,” she shakes her head, though she yearns to write a goodbye letter to her mama and leave with him. “So you’re - you're not afraid of me?”

“Didn’t know Reapers could be so cool.”

“You should smile like that more,” she says, realizing she hasn’t felt this happy in a while. “Soul, I have to tell you something - I… I want to wield you. Is that okay? We could be great together, just you and me.”

X

“I’ll follow you to the moon and back, Maka.”

X

Truth is Soul opening his soul for Maka to See.

X

“Am I… bad?”

“No,” she comforts, open palm flat against his bare chest, sensing his soul wavelength’s cadence. Sorting through the suppressed affection and longing that have been ticking like bombs inside her doesn’t come easily, and biting back a terrorized howl at the spark-like tendrils briefly poking out from his soul’s core blinds her for a few minutes.

They’re inky black and electric.

Like Medusa’s tongue.

Corrupt.

She can’t bear to tell him that about himself, not when his eyes are glittering in the faint moonshine that finds them planning all their sins.

“Medusa can’t see me. I would laugh and feel better about everything, but I felt like she was going to make me explode from the inside.” The sensation of the snake ghosts slithering and constricting her comes back, giving Maka wild goosebumps. “You don’t remember any of it?”

“I mean, I felt like I had zoned out for a second, but other than that, nothing,” Soul confirms, the crease between his brows deepening. “So… kill the Witch, huh? Treason and mutiny and all that good stuff.”

“Yeah! But since I’ll be in my Reaper form and you’ll be a scythe, no one will know it’s us.”

Though Soul doesn’t ask her to stay until the blue of daybreak, Maka does, and when she throws a leg over his windowsill to climb back down and hurry home, he trails after her, not touching her but looking as if he wants to ask for a hug.

X

Wes invites Maka to the Monarch Witch Medusa’s upcoming dinner, as she and Soul had predicted. Neither envisioned Wes asking Maka right in front of Soul, but no malignant intentions on Wes’s part lurked behind that drawback. A combination of unfortunate timing and Soul increasingly loitering near during Wes and Maka’s dates ever since that night were to blame.

Still, she and Soul can’t look each other in the eye for a week.

X

On that day a month later, Maka dresses up in another homemade gown, this one celestial blue, and falls in step with Soul as she and the Evanses walk through the Monarch’s Castle to the dining room. A small cork-stopped bottle filled with a neon pink liquid hangs from a string tied around her waist, bouncing against her leg whenever she walks, and it beats in time with her anxious heartbeat.

For some strange, silly reason, Maka loves when Soul whispers to her, even if it’s about something terrifying: “How are you going to cleanse me?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Wes casts an inquisitive look over his shoulder at them.

X

Her Majesty Medusa doesn’t don grandiose robes like she did at Wes Evans’s after recital party. Twin braids border her face, her cloak eerily familiar to her Mama’s.

Half an hour in, Soul distracts by spilling his tea over Wes, who accidentally pours his over Medusa. Mr. and Mrs. Evans apologize until they’re blue in the face while Maka empties the small jar into Medusa’s cup, never leaving her own unattended, but Maka can’t ignore the life threatening pangs and revolting nausea that soon have her doubled over, head smacking the table.

“Is there a problem?” Medusa asks in a tone that reveals she knows exactly the problem, Maka doubting that anyone else in the room can See Medusa’s snake-like tongue bolting out between her fangy teeth.

“None,” Maka strives to say, but the articulation is questionable - it’s like her mouth is full of cotton balls. “I… I think I took a sip of some poison,” is the last thing she mumbles as she room whirls around her, as she teeters and the lights go out behind her eyelids before she even hits the lavish, imported carpet.

X

Breaking up with Wes Evans wasn’t part of their plan, but unintentionally poisoning herself wasn't either, and she and Soul hadn’t discussed breaking up with his brother because it was an unspoken given that hadn’t been assigned a deadline.

“We should break up,” she says to his how are you feeling before her eyes can focus on the ceiling tiles.

For once, he’s caught off guard, struggling to repress his emotions and respond coherently and responsibly. That’s Soul’s specialty, not his. Maka doesn’t allow regret to jab at her for more than it should for that comparison, because it’s like her mama said - empathy could kill her. “Oh, I see…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you…” Wes brings an unsure hand up to undo his neatly combed hair - a minuscule clue that he’s devastated. “Do you want me to stay?”

She can’t lie. “No. Thank you, though.”

“Sure.” It’s unlike him to lack poise, but she doesn’t pride herself in single-handedly unhinging him. “Should I ask Soul to come keep you company?”

What’s worse than Wes’s immediate resignation, than his deteriorating calm, than the fact that he’s still his kind, understanding, and unquestioning self and probably saw this coming and doesn’t suggest any of that resentfully, is that Maka just can't lie. “Please… Thanks, Wes.”

X

“Maybe you shouldn’t get up so fast-”

“Meet me at midnight, and then we’re going to get payback on that Witch,” Maka seethes between stomach throbs, ripping the unnaturally white and sterile hospital bed sheets off herself despite Soul’s protests.

Only a hand to her shoulder slows her down. “You should rest, first.”

“Okay,” she agrees, but only because his touch is sedating and causes her head to do that whirling thing again.

If she weren’t a Reaper, she might have died. But she is, and she recovers at an alarming rate, but pretends to be ill for a few more days for appearances - and to pass the time with Soul by her bedside.

X

“Kill the Witch!" her ancestors chant in her sleep.

X

Three hundred years ago, Witch Medusa took the throne after Witch Mabaa disappeared, and because Witches are Divine and possess powers no Human has been granted, it’s been an unquestioned ritual that they oversee Heaven on Earth. Should any Evil appear, they are sworn to protect and fight in the name of Lord Death and Goodness.

But Medusa’s soul is different, Maka comes to understand thanks to her ancestors. It shifts forms, it deceives, it’s full of sin, and that’s why the Witch can’t use the Eye properly.

X

Medusa Sees all, and while Maka had anticipated the Witch to foresee tonight’s one team assault, she had miscalculated the sheer lack of mercy and immense influence the Monarch bears.

Maka and Soul are separated by charging Kishin souls, who had waited for them high above and dove at the pair as soon as they strolled past the security guards. Too many feet away, Soul slashes at the Kishins with his blade-arm, his scythe form too heavy for Maka to wield in his current (unknown to him) tainted state. "What are we going to do?”

“I - I don't know,” she cries, her mind sputtering like a failing engine but her ancestors guiding her through draining the Kishin of their Souls with only a thought, with only pointing.

Fear pales Soul for a moment - afraid of her - but he shakes his head and rededicates himself. “I trust you, no matter what!”

“Then - come closer,” Maka says without thinking, never having been so assertive before, but still asking if it’s okay to kiss him anyway. He moves toward her, nodding yes, please all the way, the few strides he takes feeling like an eternity. “And if this doesn’t work and you get reincarnated, promise you’ll come back to me!”

“Always, Maka.”

By then he’s reached her, and she receives him with a warm, relieved tremble and a sigh as his hands rest on her shoulders, standing on her tiptoes to hook an arm around his neck and pull him down to meet her halfway. Neither of them is hesitant, spurred on by desperation - eager to feel the other’s lips, to fit together and lessen the space between their souls until it disappears, to live through the night.

There’s something at work while they search for a rhythm, like his vibrating soulspace is caught in an invisible battle between Good and Evil, and she vows to submerge the place with her own soul’s Purity. A Purge, a Detox. Nails digging into his skin, she parts her lips ever so slightly, and when he follows suit, she tentatively presses her tongue against his, squeezing her eyes shut and focusing, focusing, focusing on that impurity deep in his core, flooding it until the flinching tendrils disintegrate.

Maka breaks away, gasping for air for like she’s come up from being underwater too long, holding on to him in case something’s gone horribly awry.

“Looks like we’re going to get a Corrupt Witch’s soul,” he says in her head. “Ready, Partner?”

Maka has no words - she plants a kiss on his blade in agreement, turning to run on.

X

Snakes sprout up from the tiled floors in the castle’s foyer, this time tangible, this time digging their fangs into her shins and calves, one attaching itself to her wielding arm. Soul drives himself through all of their necks before she realizes what’s happened, malleable in her hands with a mind of his own.

As a Reaper, she walks softly, half-there and half-here, so she doesn’t bleed, but she isn’t sure what other damage they might have done. She’s real enough to be blown through a castle wall, to lose consciousness until the jarring sound of metal scraping retrieves her to the world.

“Soul?”

“Maka!”

He’s so close, yet so far.

X

“Don’t ever drop me again,” Soul says lightheartedly after she stumbles through the rubble to him, wiggling his brows, the left one smeared with blood from a perfect gash on his forehead. “Wield me?”

X

Medusa can’t See Maka, but she can sense Soul’s soul, and it’s detrimental to their offense.

“I’m so sorry,” Soul repeats, but he’s the one with the bleeding scythe Eye, the one taking all the hits.

X

Maka can’t keep promises. There���s too much noise, and she can’t hear her ancestors over their own jumbled screaming, can’t hear the chandelier snapping and falling on her. She doesn’t remember letting him go.

X

She emerges from the debris unscathed, but defeated.

“Join me, Deathscythe, and become my Last Weapon.”

Like all heartbreaks, this one is unexpected and poignant, but Maka quietly accepts that she deserves it - after all, she had done the same thing to Wes, leaving him after leading him on.

“Deathscythe,” Soul murmurs, now in his human form, the interest in his voice already a pledge of disloyalty. Each step he takes away from Maka reminds her of Wes exiting her hospital room after the poisoning. Maybe this is punishment for her sins - Lord Death does have a funny sense of humor like that, and this unreal level of irony would be a trademark of his tricks.

“Soul, no,” Maka begs, hating how her voice cracks under the strain of holding back a surge of rage and hurt.

When Soul turns to give her a once over, indifferent and derisive and cold, he rolls his eyes, one of them highlighted with a streak of blood, echoing her: “Your feelings for me are criminal.”

Witch Medusa gleams with sardonic glee as Soul swathes an arm around her shoulders, Maka following him against her better judgment - or maybe because she trusts him, because she Listens to her Intuition and can See his soul.

“Soul, how could you? You can’t just leave me like this, we’re partners, you said you’d be there with me. You said you wanted to run away, just me and you.” She sniffles, and it all comes crashing down - her face crumbles, but she doesn’t bother to wipe the tears away. “We could have been great together…”

Later, Maka’s ankle will swell up from rolling it during the effort to reach him before Medusa notices Soul double crossed her, but the exhilaration of realizing he’s still on her side and the thrill of feeling him transform in her palm, of their souls lacing together for their first kill masks it until hours later -

When the sun returns.

X

“Huh. The sunlight makes your hair look… like a field of wheat.”

Maka scrunches her nose but blushes. “That's… cheesy. You okay, Soul?”

“Definitely,” he reassures after a quick kiss to her forehead.

X

Five years later to the date, Maka admires the new ring on her finger as she walks arm-in-arm with Soul, not knowing that today is the last day the sun will rise. It’ll set and the blue daylight will wash over the world in the morning, the moon stuck in one position yet again, Lord Death permanently silent but still Watching.

“You and Wes never happened,” Soul keeps joking, but Maka knows part of it stems from residual insecurities not related to her but to the amount of time Wes’s one-sided feeling endured after the breakup - sixteen months, not a day less or more, to her anguish.

“But you're Wes,” she teases anyway, hoping it’ll earn her snark and a dimpled appreciative beam. “My favorite Evans.”

Maka opens her mouth to comment about the similarity between the two, but like that day, just like before, the air particles seem to slow down until they stop. This time it's Soul who turns perversely static and hollow, like his soul’s been carved out abruptly. Even the wind is cut off, Soul’s hair as still as a picture, the amber leaf behind him suspended midair. Panic stricken, Maka clutches Soul closer, scrutinizing her surroundings wildly -

Across a street, a girl who bears a chilling resemblance to Medusa, down to the twin braids framing her face and intertwined together at her chin, waves at Maka, little fingers wiggling.

And if this doesn’t work and you get reincarnated, promise you’ll come back to me!

The disembodied voice makes Maka’s blood curdle, her ancestors screeching. That plea was only supposed to be for Soul, but it seems Maka’s suspicions about having company in her brain had been right all along.

The little girl stares and doesn’t say anything, but her eyes bug out as she sneers, black tongue rattling and crackling.

It’s clear that she remembers.