#they would probably somehow bind him

[etokii]

Next prank of the anti-Lucifer Club is just Satan and Belphie taking turns cucking Lucifer 💀

[underdark-dreams]

Tiefling Bachelors - Tail headcanons [pining + in a relationship]

Some tail thoughts for Rolan, Dammon, & Zevlor [reader is gender neutral, non-Tiefling]

For anyone who doesn't follow already-- @forgeofthenine creates amazing Tief content! Their headcanons for these three are VERY delicious, including some genius tail HCs that I have been rereading all day!🖤

Pining:

Rolan:

When he's extra annoyed or excited by something, the tip of his tail will twitch side-to-side behind him slightly like a cat’s

Turns out the same thing happens when he’s got a crush on someone

He can control it with enough concentration, but it could still give him away if you catch him off guard or heaven forbid touch him in an unexpected way

It’s no secret from Cal and Lia—the three of them teased each other ruthlessly about the littlest flirtations back in Elturel, as teenagers do, so they’re used to picking up on all of each others’ signs

The minute they catch Rolan’s telltale (tell-tail?) move while he’s talking with you, you can bet those two will not let it go until you’ve moved in. Probs not even then honestly

If you get friendly enough with Rolan to have long talks about magic or the Weave, his guard will lower and he’ll let his tail do its thing (within reason)

He lies to himself that it’s just because he finds your conversation stimulating. Really, it’s everything about you

Dammon:

If you’re a non-Tiefling, Dammon might comfort himself with the knowledge that you probably don’t recognize the significance of how his tail moves when you’re near

He’s good at keeping his words to you measured and polite. The way his body reacts around you is a bit more instinctive and hard to control

He’s goddamn touch-starved to be honest, this man is practically married to his hammer and anvil & he’s been living alone for years

Whenever he makes you laugh, he finds his tail curls forward toward you a bit—wishing he could touch or hold you with it

Dammon always tells himself he needs to be a bit more careful when you come around the forge. But somehow it goes out the window every time

His tail will sway gently back and forth when you talk to him, not quite wagging, but definitely actively engaged

A fellow Tiefling would immediately recognize the gesture as interest and flirtation

Zevlor:

Zevlor thought he was a pro at this: controlling the tail movements, the ear twitches, generally suppressing his Infernal tendencies at all times

But it's been so long since someone made him feel like this. Handsome, desirable, everything

The first time you overtly flirt with him, and especially the first time you touch his arm or shoulder, his tail wags behind him

He stiffens immediately, alarmed and taken aback by his own reaction to your touch. Prays you haven’t noticed

If he can smoothly get away with it, he might excuse himself from your presence to try and collect his composure

He’s very conscious of his role as leader/authority figure among the other Tiefling refugees. He’d be mortified if any of them caught him eagerly tail-wagging like a youth after just a casual gesture from you

From that point Zevlor refocuses his control whenever you’re near, making sure to keep part of his brain aware of his posture around you. The way you keep seeking him out and standing close to him during conversation doesn’t make it any easier on this poor man

Relationship:

Rolan:

More than hand-holding, Rolan prefers to hold you with his tail

Let him loop it around your calf when you’re standing beside each other, or rest the curve around the small of your back

He finds it profoundly comforting to keep in contact and touch you that way

Rolan would love if you let him gently bind you with his tail, whether it’s your hands behind your back or one of your legs pulled open for him

He often wraps it around your waist while you’re topping or riding him

Rolan also likes to drag his tail between your legs while you’re going down on him and he can’t reach you with his hands

It turns into teasing almost every time—Rolan trying to see if he can finish you with his tail before you can finish him with your mouth

Rolan’s tail gets super sensitive when he’s close to coming. Gently tug on the tip, or God forbid suck on as much of his length as your mouth can take—Rolan will come hard with a loud whimper

Dammon: 

Finally getting with you is a relief for this man; he was struggling to control his body’s reactions around you anyway

Dammon is very cuddly and touchy with you in general, but he especially loves the freedom to finally touch you with his tail

Naughty man loves to slide it up over the curve of your ass when you’re kissing—even when you’re both standing in his open-air forge where a passerby on the street could glance over and see

He’s super into you, why would he hide it? Unless it makes you uncomfortable in the slightest, of course, in which case he'll do his best to restrain himself

It would turn him on so much if you asked for tailplay in the bedroom

Let him hold you with it, spread you, spank you, help you grind and pleasure yourself with it—anything you want, he’s down bad for

Watching his tail get you worked up super super does it for Dammon, and he will be sure to tell you just how much

Zevlor:

Once you’re together, Zevlor won’t hold back from using his tail to caress you

It’s usually when you’re already kissing or embracing each other. His tail will curl behind your knees, or perhaps wrap once around your waist to gently hold you close

He still keeps the gestures mild, out of habit and out of some lingering concern that it might come on too strong for a non-Tiefling. Zevlor also just tends to be reserved when it comes to PDA in general

When he’s bedding you, Zevlor’s tail may wrap around one of your legs in the heat of the moment—it’s a sign of deep affection and trust, and a bit of possessiveness (good luck getting him to admit to that one though)

Beyond that you will have to ask, beg, and plead to get this man to use his tail actively during sex

Despite his chivalry, Zevlor has been around the block and seen pretty much everything during his Hellrider days. But those were different times: here now, with the person he cares for most in the world, everything feels new all over again

Asking him to slip the tip anywhere inside you will render him speechless for a moment

You’ll have the best luck if you’re already naked on top of him when you ask

If you want to give Zevlor his hardest orgasm in a decade, tug and play with the very base of his tail while he’s inside you. He will practically sob against you and finish in record speed

[alwaysshallow]

love the idea of high ranked readers kid just being the most chill fucking kid in the world— but only when ghost is holding them. like they just see this behemoth of a man with a skull mask and decide: yes. this is my person now and if anyone tries to remove me i will scream

just them gently patting ghosts face, curious about the mask and just spending majority of their time with their head laid on his shoulder, slowly drifting off to the voices around them and jerking wide awake whenever someone tries to remove them and just scowling at said person while gripping ghosts clothes in their tiny fists to show their displeasure and then slowly drifting off again only for this to repeat

(i am fucking obessed with this and have zero regrets)

You stare at your kid, happily tugging Simon’s shirt, and you can’t believe your own eyes and ears how chill she is.

Earlier? A crying mess, you thought you’re gonna burst into tears too, if she’s not gonna stop with the fuss that felt like her kind of revenge for taking her to work, instead of daycare, like always. You were singing lullabies for her, reading, but nothing seemed to work, and you wanted to hit your head against the wall, you even considered taking a day off, just to be with your daughter.

Yet, the sight of Simon Riley in the mask, coming right to you, seemed to soothe her more than anything - she suddenly got interested, and when he took her for a moment, she decided to stay there.

Your own kid, being a traitor. But could you blame her? Not really, not when she is lying comfortably on his chest, her little fists playing with the material of his shirt. Not when she seems to be the most comfortable around a man with a mask.

Ghost, a myth that scared the most brave soldiers, and when they saw his mask around, they knew their time was limited. Ghost, a legend, someone who was described as a soldier totally devoted to his work, no matter how many people he had to kill, no matter how many months he would have to spend on a single mission.

And Ghost, a babysitter for your daughter, apparently.

“She seems comfortable,” you laugh silently, praying that your voice isn’t gonna interrupt her sleep; it would be good to put her into a stroller, you don’t want to take advantage of Simon’s kindness. “Is it okay with you? I put you into—”

“—’s okay,” he interrupts you, locking his gaze with yours. His intense, brown eyes, makes you a bit shy in this scenario, especially when he looks so good with your kid; you wouldn’t accuse him of that earlier. Of being so good. “At least she’s sleepin’, yeah? Safe and sound.”

“Safe and sound,” you repeat, smiling softly, as you take a few steps into their direction. Lieutenant automatically stands up, slowly, his big hand on your daughter’s back, and you just can’t help yourself from sighing.

It’s like a dream.

“You good, colonel?” he asks, and you barely hold back your laugh.

“That obvious I’m not? Just taking in the view,” you reply, maybe a bit too sincere, but you don’t really care about that. Not when he looks so adorable with your daughter.

“That so,” he hums, and after a few seconds, you are so close - chest to chest close, with your kid between you two. Only barrier; or maybe a connection, binding you two. “Should probably give her to you, eh?”

“Would be nice, yes. You can’t hold her the whole eternity,” you whisper, clearing your throat, when he slowly leans in.

“Well,” he starts, his head tilting to the side, his lips next to your ear. “For you? For you, I’d be more than pleased to do that.”

You want to say something about his words, you want to confess somehow too, but your baby girl starts crying the moment Simon hangs her to you.

A reminder; that he’s not yours, and you’re not his.

“Guess she’s stayin’ with me,” Ghost smirks under his balaclava, when she stops crying.

“She always liked everyone better than me.” You roll your eyes, shaking your head with amusement. “Can you stay here for a couple of minutes, then? I need to go to Price for a second.”

“Right.” He nods. He, then, calls your name. “Don’t think we’re done with the conversation, okay? We can continue later on.”

You just gulp, smiling politely.

It's gonna be a long conversation, then.

[tumbleweed-run]

Touch

(18+, Explicit) Kinktober 2023 Day 11 Sensory Deprivation

You gasped as a cold pair of hands traced down your sides. You relaxed as they continued their path down to your hips. You were currently bound, all four of your limbs tied with silks to the bed posts. There was a matching silk across your eyes, preventing you from seeing as well. 

At least you had a tell as to which man was touching you. Realistically, you probably would have been able to do it even without Astarion’s inhuman chill.

This had been your decision, your request. It had felt only fair given that Gale had so graciously agreed to be in your position not long ago. Of course, the deafening spell Gale had cast on you, leaving you with nothing but the sound of your heartbeat, had been an additional request you’d made. 

Every touch Astarion made to your skin was already magnified tenfold, leaving you squirming both to and away from him. Perhaps more interesting was the fact that Gale wasn’t touching you. You tried to shift around the last leg that had been secured, as it was your last clue as to the wizard’s location. While the binds allowed you some movement it wasn’t enough to actually find him. 

Astarion’s hands were near your knees now, continuing their descent. 

Suddenly, a large, warm hand gripped your chin. It was the brush of Gale’s beard on your skin that caused you to grin. His lips followed not long after, pressing sweet, warm kisses against your lips. You lifted your head slightly chasing after him, attempting to deepen the kiss. He indulged you for a moment before pressing his hand gently against your chest until you relaxed back onto the bed. 

At your ankles, Astarion’s hands pivoted inward and slowly began working their way up.  He seemed determined to touch every inch of you. 

Gale’s hands left you completely, and you found yourself ineffectively trying to track him. Huffing, you once again tried to relax backward. 

There was a slight twitch in Astarion’s touch, you knew well enough that he found your frustration amusing. You set your best pout on your lips and aimed it where you assumed he was. It was at that moment that his hands reached your inner thighs. Another gasp was torn from you as your thighs pulled shut. Firmly, Astarion pushed them open again. 

You had to focus on keeping your thighs open as Astarion continued upward. His hands skated around where you desperately wanted him to touch. Then, almost as an afterthought, he trail one finger between your fold. You whined and arched up, but somehow he managed to avoid touching your clit. His hands smoothly moved to your stomach. 

The bed sunk between your legs and there was a warmth then. Not quite touching, but close enough you could feel. Gale. You sighed happily and tried to move your legs close enough to touch him. His hands found your ankles first and then a brush of his hair, followed again by his lips. Then, as if following Astarion’s lead, he began pressing soft kisses gently up the inside of your legs. 

You couldn’t pick who to focus on. Astarion’s light touches were driving you insane, his hands now just beneath your breasts. Instead of touching them, he skated his thumbs along the underside and then up to your chests. He was leaving gooseflesh in his wake.  Gale’s kisses were firmer, warmer, but he as well wasn’t touching you where you wanted. He was also firmly pressing your legs open keeping you from trying to guide him. 

You moaned when Astarion’s hand found your neck, instinctively tilting your chin up and baring it to him. He wrapped his hand around your throat but just rested it there. At this exact moment, Gale pressed a kiss against your cunt. Gasping you couldn’t help as you arched up. Astarion’s grasp tightened, not enough to choke you but as both a warning and a promise. You whined when he released the hold. 

In a mirror to Gale’s actions, Astarion’s hand grasped your chin followed by his lips. But that was where the similarities ended. Gale’s kisses had been soft and sweet, but Astarion’s were immediately commanding. His tongue wormed in between your lips, and you were ready to meet him. 

Gale’s tongue on the other hand had slipped between your folds and he was lazily lapping at your cunt. His tongue dragged across your clit, and you cried out, head turning away from Astarion. He didn’t allow it for long and pulled you back into the kiss. 

Your ability to focus on just one man was truly torn when Astarion’s hand finally, finally, grasped your breast. His thumb found your nipple immediately. Then in perhaps a serendipitous fluke, they both flicked. Gale, his tongue against your clit, and Astarion’s thumb against your nipple. 

It turned out not to be a fluke, though. They were alarming in sync as they continued their ministrations. Even when Astarion switched to tease your other nipple, Gale seemed to pull back for a breath. The last remaining coherent part of you wanted so badly to hear them. It didn't matter because within seconds you were reduced to a moaning mess. 

It was almost a relief when Astarion’s hands left you. You found it easier to focus on just one of them like this. Gale gently bent your knees out as far as the ties allowed, baring you to him even further. You were so focused on how Gale fucked you with his tongue that you almost missed the shifting of the mattress by your hip. What you didn’t miss was the press of Astarion’s chest over your side. 

You weren’t aware of how loud you yelled when Astarion’s tongue pressed down between your folds, but the feeling in your throat afterward told you it was quite loud. Gale hadn’t left either, only angled his head to the side to allow Astarion better access. Instead, they both licked at your cunt. Occasionally, their tongues would meet in some kind of strange kiss. The sensation, the knowledge, left you delirious with pleasure. You weren’t even aware of your moaning anymore. 

Your orgasm slammed into you with a tidal force. They paid no attention to your spasming and continued to lick you (in tandem) through it. 

Gale was the first one to pull away from your body. Vaguely, your mind conjured an image so familiar to you that your heart panged with the desire to see it. Gale, eyes dark in arousal, with his beard shining with your spend. 

Astarion’s mouth left you, but you felt him as he climbed over your legs to take up the space where Gale had just been. His fingers spread you as he, uncharacteristically gently, resumed lapping at your cunt. 

Your head was gently lifted, and another pillow was slid under it leaving you almost awkwardly propped up. A kiss to your forehead that smelt of both you and Gale followed. 

You were immediately curious when Gale climbed on top of you. His legs were on either side of your chest, knees bumping into your underarms. Even though he was seated on you, he bore a majority of his weight on his own legs. The soft hair on his thighs and legs tickled at your skin. Your arms pulled on the tie with the desire to touch him. 

There was barely time to think when he sat up as his cock brushed against your lips. He was hard and leaking, no doubt leaving a smear of cum against your lips. Surprised and eager your mouth fell open instantly. 

Astarion’s mouth left you, one of his hands sliding in so he could press a finger into your entrance. 

Slowly, Gale pressed his cock into your mouth, and you understood the additional pillow now. He stopped, barely inside your mouth and you could feel his thighs strain against the restraint he was showing. After a few seconds, you realized Gale wanted you to finish pulling him in your mouth. You swallowed him down quickly, quick enough that when he hit the back of your throat, you gagged and had to pull off. You were faster than Gale’s conscious and pulled him into your mouth once more, this time more carefully. 

You sucked eagerly and were rewarded with Astarion’s finger matching your pace.

You tried to keep a steady pace, spurred on in part by your reward as Astarion fingered you. But eventually, your neck because protesting each bob and you were forced to slow. 

Astarion shifted, and you groaned, anticipating his touch leaving you. You wondered if he was moving to take Gale’s spot and fuck your throat properly, you found you wanted him to. Surprisingly, it was Gale’s hand that came around the back of your head supporting you further. Then it was Gale’s cock tentatively thrusting into your mouth. 

You moaned around him but forced yourself to relax going boneless under him, acutely aware of how big a deal this was for Gale. As you relaxed, swallowing slightly to encourage him, his thrusts grew bolder. He wasn’t as sure as Astarion and didn’t try to bottom out down your throat, but it was blissful in its own way. You fought to keep your gag reflex down, worried Gale would pull away if you didn’t. Astarion pressed two fingers inside you, now matching Gale’s pace. 

It didn’t last long, but you relished each second. Gale pulled out, and you felt a string of spit trail across your chin. Almost immediately he rained a series of kisses across your face. You smiled, almost anxious to show you’d enjoyed it. 

Curiously he gently placed his hands over your ear, pressing slightly. It was a warning because then sound abruptly returned. You gasped as even the quiet sounds of the bedroom overwhelmed you for a moment. Both men were still, allowing you to adjust to the sudden change. 

“Darling,” Astarion spoke in a hushed tone, mindfully, “I think you might want to be here entirely for this next part.”

“What do you mean?” Your voice was wrecked. 

Gale’s hands slid away from your ears, his time they rested on the edge of the blindfold, waiting. 

“I’m going to let the wizard fuck me,” Astarion said it haughtily, as if bestowing a gift on Gale. 

No one acknowledged that he, in fact, was. 

“Off.” You said instantly and tried to drag your head against the pillow in an effort to remove the blindfold. 

Both men laughed at your impatience. Gale gently removed the blindfold, mindful of your hair that had become tangled. You kept your eyes closed for a moment before slowly blinking them open. The room was thankfully only lit by candles, which were far enough away that they weren’t blinding. Instead, it cast a soft warm glow that your eyes easily adjusted to. 

Both men were naked, which they hadn’t been before the blindfold went on. Idly, you realized you had known this. Still, your mouth watered slightly at the sight as it always did. Surely, if there came a time that you weren’t struck with lust at this sight that there would be something wrong with you. 

“There you are,” Gale said gently, tilting your head towards him. 

There was a question in his eyes which had nothing to do with Astarion. You knew he was still seeking approval for fucking your mouth. You nodded slightly and smiled. 

“Hello,” you said it softly. 

Astarion allowed your moment with grace. Instead choosing to focus on untying the binds from around your ankles. You anticipated Gale doing the same to the ones around your wrists, but he didn’t. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips and disappeared towards the end of the bed. Once both your legs were free you drew up your knees a few times to dispel the stiffness that had formed. 

Astarion climbed up over you on all fours. As he leaned up even further, to press a kiss to your lips, Gale climbed up onto the bed as well. You tried to stifle a giggle at just how crowded it had become. Astarion’s face was amused as well when he leaned back from the kiss. He jumped slightly then. 

You looked over his shoulder and found that Gale had placed a hand on the elf’s lower back, his other hand was out of sight. Judging off the look that flashed on Astarion’s face you knew what he was doing. 

“Astarion?” You asked carefully when his eyes slid shut. 

“I’m here, pet,” he reassured softly, “it’s, ah, been some time since I’ve let anyone do this.” 

Your eyes met Gale’s over his shoulder, and he paused, a question he didn’t want to voice. You quickly looked back to Astarion’s face before nodding, Gale began moving again. 

Carefully you drew up your knee and tapped it against Astarion’s side. “Are you using our safeword?” If this conversation had been had, you’d been deaf to it. 

Astarion’s eyes opened. “Darling why would I need-” he cut off abruptly as Gale pulled away from him entirely. 

Astarion growled and looked over his shoulder at Gale, annoyed. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” was all Gale said. 

Alright, alright,” Astarion sighed, “Coins it is.”

As Gale, once again, went back to prepping Astarion the elf looked over his shoulder again. “I swear, Gale, if you stop one more time I’m going to pin you to the floor and fuck myself on you.”

Your entire body flushed at the mental image. 

Astarion’s mouth twisted into a wicked grin when he noticed. “Oh darling you like that idea,” he accused. 

You didn’t bother denying it. Once glance at Gale’s slack jaw and glazed eyes told you that he was similarly affected. 

“Well,” Astarion continued, you wondered if he was talking to distract himself, “we will certainly need to add that to a tawdry little to do-” he broke off in a moan, head dropping down. 

Gale lifted his hand from Astarion’s back and held up two fingers. You grinned to yourself. 

Slowly, Astarion began rocking back to meet Gale’s fingers. Your hands itched to go around Astarion. To hold him and keep him grounded in the here and now. You pouted as you pulled against the ties. They’d clearly been left on for a reason. 

“Ah, fuck,” Astarion swore, “is he always this slow about it.”

“Mostly,” you laughed.

“Pleasure is meant to be savored,” Gale tutted from above the two of you. 

Astarion groaned in frustration. You smiled to yourself, knowing the vampire couldn’t see that Gale himself was no doubt frustrated by how slow he was moving. His cock was heavy and leaking freely to the bedding below. But there was one thing about Gale, it's that he would never proceed if he was at all worried about hurting someone he cared about. 

Your laughter escaped as little giggles, and after a moment you felt more than heard Astarion’s amused huffs. Abruptly, a moan was punched from him and his hips snapped backward. He continued moaning and fucking himself backward. 

“Good?” Gale asked. 

“Gale, I am not above begging you to fuck me before one of you dies,” Astarion ground out making it sound more like a threat. 

Gale’s eyes went far away for a moment, but he shook his head and withdrew his fingers. “Maybe some other day,” he said cryptically. 

Astarion took the lack of contact with surprising grace. Surprising, until he sat up slightly and moved to position his cock at your entrance. 

“Oh,” you gasped, realizing what was happening. 

Astarion was quick to slide into you entirely, his impatience betrayed through his actions. You squirmed slightly, adjusting to him. 

It was strange, you could almost feel as Gale pressed into Astarion. Each small slide forward and Astarion moved ever so slightly in you. It was, in fact, a slow process until Gale’s hips were flush against Astarion’s ass. He held still, and you watched his fingertips turn white as he gripped Astarion’s hips. You weren’t sure who he was restraining. 

“For the love of,” Astarion snarled and it was almost like Gale was waiting for him to speak because he began moving finally, effectively silencing the vampire. 

Astarion remained relatively still the only movements inside of you were the after-shocks as Gale gently began fucking him. His patience only lasted so long, though, and eventually began moving. 

It was awkward for less than a beat as both men found a rhythm that worked for them. Once they did Astarion began fucking you earnestly. Immediately you were glad Gale had removed his spell because the sounds of both of them was nearly enough to drive you over the edge. With each thrust from Gale, moans escaped Astarion sounding much like they were being forced out. Gale’s eyes had fallen shut, head tilted back grunting each time he bottomed out. 

Astarion’s hands found your hips and shifted them upwards so his thrusts went impossibly deeper. 

Gale went first a string of incoherent sounds spilling past his lips as he spilled into Astarion. Astarion quickly began fucking himself between the two of you in a way that bordered on frantic. He kept on with this for a moment before his orgasm hit. 

As he came he bit into the flesh just above your breast, fangs piercing the skin. It was enough to send you over the edge, your cunt fluttering around his still-twitching cock. 

Astarion lazily lapped at the blood forming at his bite mark, collapsing forward onto you. It wasn’t in a particularly good spot to bleed. Instead, the blood slowly welled up in the punctures, only to be quickly whisked away by his tongue. 

When your hands fell to the bed, you became aware that Gale had moved and was undoing the ties. You dragged your pins and needles hand up to thread into Astarion’s hair. You kept him against you, encouraging his lazy feeding. As Gale climbed into the bed next to the two of you, you felt a familiar sensation of magic as a spell cleaned you all. 

“Useful,” Astarion approved, lips still against your skin. 

You laughed and let your head fall against Gale as he finally settled, half on the pillows beneath you. 

It was remarkably peaceful, in this afterglow for the three of you. 

[mokulule]

A Pinch of Salt - part 3

First | Masterpost

John couldn’t believe he was doing this, listening to the bloody kid. The cigarette hung forgotten from his lips. Every instinct told him to hunt down the kid and get him out of there; he’d seen enough dead kids to last him several life times.

Yet here he stood, counting down the minutes with a watch in hand. A spectral storm was dangerous, it could hurt a lot of people, attract even worse things. The plan was sound.

The end justified the means.

He felt sick.

There hadn’t been any screams from the kid (yet) - just the feeling of the malevolent energy moving further away. As long as it was moving away the kid had to be moving too.

Time was up and John was running. Kid was not getting a second longer than he’d asked for. It took him a minute to reach the plaza.

He spun around taking in the space. The central installment, which would have been some kind of fountain had it been finished judging by the exposed piping, was kinda in the way.

John huffed in annoyance.

This was clearly not gonna be the prettiest binding he’d ever done, just circle and a sigil for each cardinal direction, but it’d have to do. He pulled out a compass and promptly grimaced at the way the needle shook from electromagnetic disturbance.

Yeah, so north was probably over by the escalators.

The malevolent energy had turned around and was now coming back. Kid better be alright or John would have to murder him himself.

Time was hastily running out. It was a bloody good thing John worked well under pressure. He’d barely drawn the last squiggle when he heard fast running footsteps. He looked up just in time to see the kid take a running leap off the first floor banister.

Fuck. John’s heart jumped into his throat. He was only halfway through a levitation spell when he realized he would be too late. He wasn’t fast enough. At best the kid would break a leg at worst he’d break his neck!

He braced himself and then- John didn’t believe his eyes- the kid ducked into a rolling landing jumping right back to his feet like some kind of bloody knock-off Robin.

“Ya nearly gave me a fucking heart attack,” John said clutching his chest.

“We don’t have time for that. Here they come!” Kid yelled as he ran over to him. And right he was, the storm burst into the room in a tornado of trash, tools and now gray dust - just great, it had gotten into a bag of cement powder.

It was John’s turn. Just as the storm entered the circle, John slammed his hands onto the circle and activated it. His hairs rose on end as the magic activated. The wind and dust slammed against the binding, but it held despite the less than ideal circumstances.

Time to do the banishment. John couldn’t wait to be done with this.

-

The hairs on Danny’s arms stood on end; so this was magic.

Danny knew magic existed. He’d been mind controlled by a magical scepter. He’d seen magic used and reality itself changed at the snap of a finger - heck Danny had wielded the Reality Gauntlet himself. But that was just it, wasn’t it? those were magical items. Objects of power that bestowed a certain set of abilities to the wielder.

It was real, but it was less real somehow, or rather more mundane. Not quite so different from the crazy things his parents invented and that was just science.

It was something quite different to see, to feel, the power in the air, the way pressure increased and his ears popped when he swallowed all because Trenchcoat held out his hands and said a series of strange words.

Danny could feel reality warping at this guy’s will, a point above the ghost where this world was growing thinner. He was making a portal right here, with nothing but words and will and whatever magic was supposed to be - something that had been his parents’ magnum opus, taken years of study and then not even worked until Danny stumbled inside, an unwitting sacrifice.

Would it have even turned on without him inside? Or had that been a little bit of magic too?

Danny laughed with an edge of hysteria. And here Trenchcoat made it look easy.

So much time spent - missed dinners and awkward school events waiting for parents that never came and they should have just found this dude instead.

Something caught his attention. At first he couldn’t tell what it was, but invariably he was drawn to the forming rip in reality.

Something was wrong.

Heat and sulfur stuck in his nose. A sense of dread pooled in his gut. There was something malicious about it. That wasn’t a portal to the ghost zone.

“Where are you sending them?” Danny yelled over the whipping winds.

“To Hell,” Trenchcoat yelled back, not taking his eyes off his task.

“Hell!” Danny squeaked in horror.

Trenchcoat spared him a bewildered glance. “It’s a banishing, kid. It’s what it does.”

Danny’s gaze shot from the portal to the ghost back to Trenchcoat. No, it was all wrong. The ghost was in pain and yes they were out of control but they didn’t deserve to be sent to Hell for it. Danny had to do something.

“Stop! You have to stop!” Danny stepped in front of the man hands raised almost in mirror, except Danny didn’t have anything as potent as magic at his disposal, not unless he wanted to reveal himself. He felt some of his resolve crumble at that thought. Danny still didn’t want to find out what the man had intended to do to him, had he not passed his salt test.

“Hell’s bells, kid! What are you doing?”

“You have to stop they don’t deserve this!”

“Kid, it’s out of control! This is how it’s done.”

Absolute certainty.

Danny wobbled. Clearly, he knew what he was doing, he was the real deal. Who was Danny to question that?

The ghost screamed in despair, cutting straight to Danny’s core. His lips pressed into a thin line. He met light blue eyes, held them, and then he took a step backwards - into the circle.

-

Am I being mean? A little bit XD Sorry I couldn't help it. I hadn't planned for Danny to do it quite like this in my original plan but he sure did it.

Thanks for the lovely comments on the previous part :D

You can subscribe the masterpost for the series here

[beaker1636]

Tied Up - Noah Sebastian Smut

AN: Here we go, Noah bondage smut. Tied up with Christmas lights, not much of a plot, just straight up smut. Hope ya'll enjoyed this as much as I did writing it because I got into this one 🤣🤣🤣

“Why are you standing at my front door with several strands of Christmas lights?” You ask your boyfriend Noah, eyeing him suspiciously as you open the door.

He isn’t big on holidays, Christmas in particular so this is really out of character for him.  In fact when you were putting up your decorations in your house last night he watched you, refusing to have any part in it and just sat there.  It was a whole fight, you were upset feeling like you did it all yourself while he didn’t understand why you were upset.  Ultimately it led to him storming out and going home, and you not feeling in the mood to finish your decorating and putting the tree up anymore so there it sits, nothing on it.

“Well I believe last night I told you to lighten up… and you told me to get into the holiday spirit so I come with a bit of a peace offering, and maybe some fun,” he gives you a sheepish grin when he steps into your house, hoping that you aren’t too angry with him from last night.

“Okay… and that is?” You question, eyeing him closely as you try to read his mind and figure out what he is getting at.

“Well you liked that one time when I tied you up right? So do you want to do it again? Only this time we would maybe use the string lights? Let me show you how sorry I am and that I am trying to get into the Christmas mood for you?” 

At this point he has moved so he is standing over you, your back against the wall as he looks down at you, leaning in so close that his breath is ghosting over your ear and neck as he speaks.

“Let me make you feel good tonight baby, make up for last night.”

You swallow, suddenly more turned on than you probably should be at the thought of what he wants to do to you, and honestly you are unwilling to admit that to him.

“You think tying me up with Christmas lights will somehow make up for the fight you caused last night?” you question, trying to hide of for the obvious arousal you are feeling thanks to the man blocking you in.

“No, but the multiple orgasms I plan to give you might… and we both know how much you love it when I push you around, turn you into my little whore,” he whispers in your ear.

He brushes your hair off your shoulder on one side so that he can have access to your throat, leaving a light kiss before nibbling on the flesh there, causing you to let out a breathy moan as you press your legs together, telling him all he needs to know.  That you want this even if you are trying to fight that you do.

“See, you want this just as much as I do.  And think about how pretty you will look with nothing but these glowing against your skin as you fall apart on my tongue,” he slowly steps back from you, giving you the chance to turn him down but you don’t .  Instead you find yourself nodding at him, giving in to what he wants.

“Good girl, let’s go to your room then,” he smirks at you as he begins leading you towards your bedroom, setting the bag down and then turning towards you.

He makes his way towards you, backing you against the wall before his lips find yours, much gentler than you are expecting them to be as they slowly draw you into the moment.  Noah can tell that you are a little wound tight still, that he needs you to relax before he starts to bind you, so that is what he is currently working on.  Kissing you gently as he slowly guides you towards your bed, slowly lifting the shirt you have on above his head, not missing that it is one of his own but choosing to ignore that fact for now.  Your bra eventually follows, leaving you in only your panties in front of him as he continues.

He pulls away after he has you sit on the bed, that way he can plug the first strand in before sitting behind you, leaving kisses along your neck as he slowly brings your arms behind your back.  Wrapping the cord around your wrists and gently binding them, making sure they aren’t so tight they’re digging into your skin.

“You look so pretty like this baby, the lights glowing against your skin,” he praises softly before moving to stand in front of you.  Helping you to your knees in front of him before he kicks his sweatpants off, his erect cock now standing at full attention in front of your face as he strokes it, watching you.

“Open your mouth for me, fuck, that’s it,” he groans as you do, leaning forward slightly so you can take the head into your mouth.

You swirl your tongue around the head before leaving a couple teasing licks along the slit, wanting to drive him crazy with your mouth.  He gladly lets you do it for a few moments, enjoying as he watches closely while your lips slowly lower on his dick, you bobbing your head as you begin to take more of him.

Fuck, he loves watching you when you blow him but it’s even better watching you do so while your hands are behind your back, knowing that you can’t pull yourself away from him even if you had wanted to.

He soon grows tired of this, of you barely taking him as, so he pulls your head down to make you take all of him at once, holding you there with a groan when he can feel your throat constrict around him. Tears building in your eyes as you choke around him before he lets you go, giving you a moment to catch your breath before giving an experimental roll of his hips to see if you accept it without complaint before he begins to do so.

“Can I fuck your pretty mouth tonight baby?” He asks, waiting for you to indicate it is okay.

When you nod your head he thrusts into your mouth again, starting slowly so you can get used to it before he begins going harder.  Letting out low groans as he seeks his own pleasure, letting you know how good you are at taking him as he continues until he draws close.  

Right before he finishes he pulls himself out of your mouth with a pop, moving so he can help you get back up off the floor and having you kick your panties off before laying down on the bed for him. 

“Are you still fine with your hands being behind your back? I can move them if this is too uncomfortable while I am doing your ankles,” he asks, looking up at you from where he stands at the foot of the bed.  

“I’m fine,” you answer, watching him closely as he takes your ankles, tying each one to one of your bed posts with more strands of the lights, you watching him as he does.

When you’re secure he looks up at you with a smirk, really enjoying the view of you all spread open, at his mercy to do as he pleases.  He can edge you all night if he chose, or make you finish over and over if he chose to.  He enjoys having this power over you, getting to do as he pleases while you just lay there and take it.

He leans over you, giving you a light kiss before he begins to trail his lips down your throat.  Leaving little marks as he goes, loving the bruises he is leaving along your skin, reminders of who you belong to that’ll stay for the next few days.  He knows you’ll probably be pissed when you realize that he left a couple in visible places, but that is a fight he is willing to deal with later.

You let out a gasp when his lips dip lower, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it, then lightly biting down as you let out a breathy moan, feeling yourself growing more and more wet with each pass of his tongue across the sensitive peak while his fingers roll the other one between his fingers. Building you up, teasing you relentlessly, wanting you aching for his touch between your thighs before he ever makes it there.

He slowly begins to trail his lips down your torso, but skips from your belly to your thighs, passing over the place that you currently want him most.  Chuckling against your skin when you whine from the lack of contact.

“Patience, this will all be worth it,” he says softly before biting down on your thigh, leaving a mark where he was before he pulls away.

Looking up at your face from between your thighs as he runs a finger through your folds, gathering some of your arousal on it before circling your clit with it, you almost instantly whimper at the contact, at how great the simple act feels.

“Fuck, you’re this wet and all I’ve really done is play with you tits,” he says in amazement, but mostly to himself, almost blown away at how big of a mess he is currently making of you with barely any contact. “Do you want me to use my mouth or my fingers on you first?”

He continues to barely brush your clit as he asks, enjoying when you try to squirm from his movements but can’t.  Enjoying when you realize that it is useless and he can see the frustration cross your face.

When you don’t respond you are met with a stinging slap to your thigh, making you gasp as you shift your hips slightly.

“I believe I asked you a question princess.  How do you want me to make you cum the first time hmm?” He asks you again, now glaring at you from where he is, irritated that you aren’t responding like you are supposed to be.

“I, I want your mouth on me, please?” You ask, turning slightly red as you blush from the embarrassment of being forced to ask him for what you want.  The two of you have done so many things like this but you still don’t like voicing what you want from him, and you are starting to think you never will be comfortable with dirty talk in any capacity.

“That’s better, thank you,” he says.  

He leans down and dives right in, using his tongue to run it from your hole to your clit several times, making you impatient before he finally wraps his lips around your clit and sucks it harshly.  Making you moan and attempt to shift your hips but finding you are unable to.

“Be good and stay still or I’ll stop,” he mumbles before smugly running his tongue across your clit again.  He pulls away long enough to smirk when he sees how wet you are, watching as you begin to drip on your thighs, knowing that it is him and him alone that is turning you into an absolute mess.  

His tongue traced the line of liquid up your thigh, loving the taste of you before he sucks on your clit again, his tongue running circles on it as his lips continue to stay wrapped around it, making you let out a gasp, finding yourself growing close at his actions.  You try your hardest to stay still, to not move at all as your high hits you but you fail, arching your back when you cum against his lips without much warning.  Instantly feeling guilty you broke the rule that he gave you.

“Shit, that was beautiful.  Should I make you cum again princess? I think maybe I should make you with my fingers too, and then my cock.  What do you think?” He asks you, smirking up at you as your breathing evens out after you finally come back down from the high he just gave you.

“Please?” you ask softly, not really having it in you to say much else but knowing that he won’t accept just a nod for an answer right now.

He dips his head back down, lightly running his tongue over your sensitive clit before abruptly slipping two of his fingers inside of you. You are so wet that he is met with almost no resistance as he sinks them inside of you.  He pulls his hand back only to thrust his fingers back inside of you, rough, as he pulls his mouth away from you.  

He wants to watch your face as you come undone for him again, to see how much pleasure he can bring you with just his hand.

He continues to thrust his fingers inside of you, rough and unforgiving as his thumb begins to rub your clit, adding to the building orgasm that you can feel creeping up on you.  Loving the little sounds that keep dropping out of your mouth as you try to hold back the feeling you are currently experiencing.  He gives you a particularly hard thrust out of nowhere, you moaning at the sensation, at the sting. 

His thrusts of his fingers getting rougher and rougher as the pressure on your clit increases, you finding it hard to keep quiet this time as he pulls you closer and closer to the edge.  He leans up to give you a kiss as he continues, you tasting yourself on his lips as he pulls you over the edge, your second orgasm of the night hitting you harshly.  Him slowing down his movements as you ride it out before halting, giving you several light kisses as you come back down, telling you how amazing you are doing.

“Okay, are you ready for my cock?” He asks you, leaning down to untie your legs. 

When you nod, giving him the okay, he flips you onto your stomach, your hands still tied as he pushes your face down into the mattress while your ass is up.

“I’m going to be rough with you, let me know if it is too much,” he says, pressing one last gentle kiss against your shoulder before he pulls back. Appreciating the view in front of him, how smooth your skin is under his hands.

He is able to see just how wet you are, coating your thighs and glistening in the light of the room.  It pleases him to no end that he is the reason why you are this way, that it is him that you are craving so badly right now.

Without a warning he pushes inside of you, making you cry out both from surprise but also the slight sting of pain as his hard cock stretches you out. No matter how many times you have taken him it still feels so wonderful when he first enters you.  Both of you groan at the feeling as he begins to thrust, deep but forceful dispute the fact that he is begging slowly.

One hand resting on your hips as he brings your body back into his as he pushes forward, each thrust getting harder and harder as he goes, watching how your body jolts and moves with each thrust of his hips against yours.  

Your body feels amazing around him, how wet you are, the way that you are clenching around him, shit it has him close.  He knows that he will not last long from this but judging how you are clenching around him and moaning, he doesn’t think that you are going to last too long either.

Snaking a hand down underneath you he begins to rub your clit again, wanting, no needing to make you finish one last time before he does.  Wanting to stay true to his word about making you fall apart with his mouth, hand and cock like he threatened earlier. Wanting to feel you cum around him, milking him for his own release.

You are so overstimulated from already finishing twice that it doesn’t take much, you falling apart one last time within seconds of him finding your clit, collapsing down on the bed as he continues to ram his hips into yours chasing his own release now.  He groans, slowing his movements down as he finishes inside of you before stilling.  Watching closely at how his cum slowly leaks out of you as he pulls out, moving to untie your wrists for you.

Once you are untied you roll over, staring at the ceiling as your chest heaves, trying to catch your breath as he lays next to you, his head on your shoulder.  You don’t say anything as you lay there, turning your head so that you could kiss him.

He whispers praises to you, telling you how good you did and how beautiful you looked all tied up before getting up and returning with a washcloth, cleaning the mess you both left on your thighs off before glancing at you.

“Why don’t you settle into a warm shower, help soothe your muscles that are probably aching at this point while I change your sheets.  I’ll join you in a couple minutes baby,” he says softly, rubbing the red marks that are on your wrists as he helps you up off the bed.

“That sounds wonderful, I’ll see you in a few minutes, I love you” you say softly, giving him a kiss before you make your way to the bathroom.  The fight from the night before is not forgotten, but figuring that it isn’t worth worrying about tonight.  

[smoft-demons]

About pacts

The game is kinda ABOUT the pacts, but somehow I feel like the concept is not fleshed out enough in canon. So I’m fixing that! I am making them so fluffy, I am developing them into the magic QPR bond of my dreams lol

(Brief mentions of blood and sex under the cut, be warned)

Ok so. In the game, the pacts have four key functions: 1, allows the human to give the demon binding orders. 2, gives the human a way to amplify the demon’s abilities and strengths. 3, implied, gives the demon a way to do the same thing for the human, to lend them their own strength. 4, allows the human to summon the demon basically for free. Have him on speed dial, I suppose. Summon with no ritual, no spell components, no nothing except an incantation.

That’s cool, I like that. But like,, iirc the game says nothing of the mechanics of this, or how the pacts feel!

I think pacts should be a mildly psychic connection. Nothing like what Beel and Belphie have going on, and no actual ability to put words telepathically in your demon’s head (and vice versa), but like… an Awareness of each other, muted and vague when you’re not actively reaching out through the pact, but just enough that like,, you can feel them vaguely in the back of your mind. You know they’re alive, and you can mentally reach for them if you want to.

When you ARE using the pact, it doesn’t HAVE to be for one of the aforementioned four functions. It can also be… just a mild mental ping, like tugging on a string or tapping them lightly to get their attention. When they reach back, the bond opens up a little bit more, to allow the passage of emotions, flashes of memories, even awareness of about how far you are from each other and what direction you’re in. All entirely voluntary, no invasive mind-reading, but you can mentally share what you want with each other.

I feel like the pacts don’t have to imply romance. But, they DO imply partnership—not necessarily exclusive partnership, in fact probably it isn’t an exclusive sort of thing by default. Plenty of demons have multiple humans, and plenty of humans have multiple demons. The sort of partnership that doesn’t really have a standard box to fit into by average human reckoning. Queerplatonic partnership. Close, emotionally intimate, committed, devoted. But not necessarily having anything to do with attraction, romance, any of that.

These pacts can be purposely strengthened, to make communicating with each other like this easier. Strengthening the signal, if you will.

The key to that is two things: emotional intimacy/trust, and sharing vitality (or however you wanna phrase it. Vitality, life, essence, soul, etc. I mean this to encompass a few different things, and none of those words is a perfect fit for all of them. Let’s say there’s an untranslatable word in infernal that fits perfectly). Specifically, the human and the demon make mental contact through the pact with the intent to strengthen the bond, then do whichever of the sharing vitality/essence/life/soul things that they feel like doing.

For example:

Kissing. An emotionally intimate thing to do that involves sharing fluid. DNA counts as essence, and this is a way of combining it. A textbook, effective way to reinforce a close bond. Doesn’t even strictly have to be romantic! It CAN be for sure, and usually is, but like… you can also kiss the homies out of platonic affection if you want to. Especially if the homies in question are demons in a pact with you. This is normal and chill to them.

Also, simply sharing the same air! Pressing foreheads together (think keldabe kiss minus the helmets), noses touching (i think this is called kunik). Sharing breath. This absolutely counts as sharing vitality. Also, afaik this is a thing people would only have the instinct to do with someone they really love. It’s such a soft, peaceful thing that doesn’t make sense in any other context but trust and devotion and emotional intimacy. Super good way of reinforcing a close bond!

Obviously sex works for this too. Obviously. It ticks all the boxes: reinforces a close bond, combining vitality/essence, can be very emotionally intimate. Probably the most textbook option.

In the other direction, possibly not quite as expected but totally works if you think about it: bloodshed. I’m sure it’s common enough in the ritually combining blood sort of way, but also… think about fighting at your pacted demon’s side, or getting wounded and then being rescued (seems more likely, especially in part 1), and both of you bleeding. Physically supporting each other, spilling your vitality onto each other, each wiping blood off of the other and patching each other up in the aftermath of an altercation. Really, you can’t get more devoted and trusting than that.

Food, as well. Taking a bite of something, then feeding a bite to your pact partner. Your food is the source of your vitality, in a similar way to breath. It’s your life. Sharing food with this intent absolutely works. It works even better if it’s food you made, and/or familiar food that you love in such a way that it’s part of your identity. That way, it works twofold. The physical effect of metabolizing the food is your vitality, and the identity aspect—feeding a loved one something that resonates with who you are—is sharing your essence/soul.

This one’s a bit of a reach, but I think it still works—tears. Experiencing something that makes both pact partners cry, be it a sad story, an emotional conversation, painful events, etc. Supporting each other through that, feeling compassion for each other, comforting each other. There’s no shortage of intimacy, devotion, and trust in this. On both an emotional and physical level, this counts as sharing soul/essence/life.

Sharing soul/vitality/essence/life (whatever the fitting word for this in infernal would be) on purpose like this would absolutely bring pacted partners closer together. Strengthens the bond between them, helps them understand each other, reinforces the love. Strengthen a pact enough and eventually you won’t even need the incantation to summon that demon.

_______

(I am planning to put this in my rewrite of obey me season 1 with my own MC, of course. Once I progress enough to start posting it, that is lol)

(but also, maybe, if I find the inspiration, I might write gn reader!MC oneshots with these concepts. Pls let me know if you think I should try! Also, anyone is more than welcome to use this for your own writing if you want)

EDIT: I wrote a oneshot! The time when my MC found out that strengthening pacts is a thing, with Beel and Mammon. Here it is!

[bi-ss]

~ Ties that bind ~

Bucky x reader- arranged marriage.

Summary: You agreed to arrange marriage when you were little, after seeing who you are to marry. You wish you could go back.

Warning- drinking? None i can't think of.

(Spelling may be bad as I'm very dyslexic sorry in advance)

You've been staying in your bestfriends apartment for 2 days now, you've just had more time to think about what will become of your life, you didn't get as many texts from James as you thought when you went to bed around 11PM but oh lord when you woke up it wouldn't stop going off, in all truth your phone died and you fell asleep with it on charge.

"Omg, would you turn that off.. It's 6:30, i love you, but not that much.." your friend groaned as she walked over to your phone to turn it off seeing you still in your make shift bed, you were about to get up and go get coffee but a 'huh' your friend made caught your attention.

"What? If it's something stupid, imma smack you so hard.." You look at your now bright screen to see unread texts coming through from an unknown caller, you picked it up and started reading some, with her reading over your shoulder, your were confused at first because you didn't know who it was but when finding out who thought it would be an amazing idea to text you at an ungodly time, but you soon figured it out, it was james.

You were annoyed at not only did he get home at 1am close to 2 so you would have been there for hours on your own but because he was the last person you wanted to talk to.

Rolling your eyes you went on with your life, making and drink a cup of coffee then getting ready to attend a fashion show, you weren't walking but you were invited with front row seats and couldn't pass it up, and there was have after party which you managed to get your friend into aswell somehow, so a minimum of 6 hours away from James and all the stress in the world.

"I wonder if theres cute guys there? I hope so. Ugh, after me and Josh broke up, I've been so lonely.. in bed, of course, i dont want commitment!" You watch as your best friend since college, Chloe, yapped about boys while realising for the 4th time today what's going to change when you marry James, "have you seen Joshs new girlfriend, I think we went to high school with her.. shes nice..." As she continues to gossip while doing makeup, you zone out and think about your life until she claps, getting your attention once again, "you know what?! I'm happy for Josh. I'm happy being single. He's happy being non single." She smiled at you."You should be happy you're marrying one of the most richest and most powerful men in America, probably the world, maybe.." You just nod and smile at her. You don't know if you are smiling because she's smiling or if what she said was correct, you're sure you'll find out.

While driving to the fashion show, the topic of James was brought up, "if I were marrying him, I'd be in his bed so fast," Chloe stated for the 38th time. "Is it true? The rumours about his arm, that's is.. no doubt the rumours about his dick aren't false -" You zone out from your friends rant about James when your phone screen lit up from a text... his text.. one after the other..

You zoned back in to hear chloe talking about Zeon. In all fairness, you didn't know who he was, but also, she hadn't spoken about him til now, or you think so? You were about to ask who he was until you see a modern building with lots of windows and a weird looking woman statue but with no curves and all straight lines and spikes, it did make you uncomfortable in an unspeakable way but you got out of the car and walked past it while looking down, you walked up to the bouncer you, showing your Ids and was let in, after the man blocking the door with a clipboard questioned chloe about if she was in the right place or not.

You were seated towards the end of the runway, which you didn't mind, but what you did mind was the constant camera flash some for the models but mostly for you.. that isn't helping you stay away from James, but you do like attention. The event was over later than you expected as some older women went on a rant about how fashion changed and how it was disturbing now or whatever.

You parked in a 24/7 parking zone and walked a little over 10 minutes for the after party that was already in full swing when you got there, heading straight towards the bar with chloe walking close behind to order a mocktail since you dont drink often but over to your left chloe was downing tequila shots like water, that wasn't surprising but what was surprising was when she ordered a cocktail and sent it your way, she knows you don't drink but looking around and seeing all the lady's glancing at you knowingly you thought this was one of the rare occasions where you will drink, and drink you did.

You knew from the start that marrying James Barnes wouldn't be easy from all his "fans" who are just girls throwing themselves on him but finding out he has a girlfriend? A whole other can of worms you didn't realise opened but the girls at this club were a new level of bitchy, like one tried spilling her red wine on you but ended up missing and it went over the lad next to you who weren't amused at all or when you were dancing with chloe and some other chick tried tripping you but you stepped over her foot unknowingly but 30 seconds later you did almost trip yourself up, but that's about the last thing you remember apart from getting more drink and getting hit on some else happening then dancing on someone or dancing on your companion.

But you do know 1 thing for certain is that you've woken up with a massive banging head ache in a warm bed, half dressed and with what you assumed someone sleeping next to you as they haven't moved, unless they're watching you sleep?

(Lol sorry i hadn't been posting i just moved, lmao, so that's taken most of my time)

TAGS: @learis @unaxv @cjand10 @pattiemac1 @coffee-winter-and-silence @scott-loki-barnes @blackhawkfanatic

[badchoicesworld]

hello there! i just found your blog and i love your writing for hobie, so i’d like to request another thing for him.

would you mind doing something about a transmasc vigilante reader who tags along with hobie on patrols and late night hangouts? hobie and the reader could diy their own costumes together :) maybe reader is black cat, another spiderperson, or whatever you want to come up with. thanks in advance, and i’ll probably request again soon!

hobie brown with a transgender, vigilante reader (ftm)

RAAHH thank you so much :]

i chose for the reader to be another spidersona, probably anarchist and super cool, hope this is okay! let me know if not

warnings: unsafe binding (there’s a warning ahead)

pairing: hobie brown x transmasc!reader

requests: open ! PLEASE

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

for you and hobie to get along so well and hang out outside of missions n such, i imagine you’re a spider-man who rejected miguel’s “invitation” to spider society. this is what might have led to you becoming a vigilante who’s occasionally recruited by spider society after some begging- or you’ve just been a vigilante from day one in your dimension.

but ! who’s likely to notice such a person? hobie, obviously. you two become menaces and no one looks forward to being in a room with you. hobie destroys their faith in the constitution while you’re reinforcing everything

during missions, you make a hell of a team ! there’s somehow this real nonchalant feeling to the atmosphere even if you’re punching down baddies

banter, plenty of it back and forth while swinging about and fighting for ur life

probably makes fun of your form or something playfully, makes a comment or two about a punch you’ve thrown “you call tha’ a punch?” “Naaah, nahnahnahnahnah. watch this,” probably does worse let’s be honest, throws the dirties punch known to man but it does the trick

you’re more stealth while hobie’s way more out there, style n all that

hobie dropping in on some operation to take down the big baddies while shredding away at his electric guitar, meanwhile he’s able to see you picking off people from vantage points

whenever you’ve gotta wait about for some patrols or just observe for a night, you two will find some sorta rooftop to perch on top of and patrol from there. but the view kills

you two probably have a sort of routine: completing missions together for the spider society, hobie then tags along for some vigilante work, then you both kick back at his place once the days come to an end

chill night consists of hobie subconsciously strumming at a note occasionally on his guitar while you talk about whatever together

a lot of complaining about the institution, probably how much miguel fucking sucks

depending on ur current situation with transitioning, given that hobie knows, mans is probably the most supportive person you’ll meet

hobie lives in a society that he actively chooses to protect despite being apart of the margin of people that are still severely oppressed to terrible degrees, be it for his race or how he chooses to express himself (in my head, hobie’s also a boy kisser). so i think that he has a certain passion for protecting those minority groups. you, as a trans man, sometimes get the hobie brown special treatment.

let’s you crash at his place whenever you need it, let’s you borrow his clothes n shit if they help you feel more masculine, will give you tips n tricks that either he uses or has heard work great for presenting masculine

does your makeup if you want it, like making your face look more chisel, fake facial hair or brows more blocky- that kinda shit.

if you’re yet to go through the execution process (top surgery), hobie’s ur guy (a terrible terrible influence)

if you have a binder, good for you- hobie is going to find it and customise it for you because he’s hilarious

probably does some like web stitching into it, lil embroidered parts that match his pins or something like “hobie was here” in his clapped handwriting

this isn’t anything new, you two have this little game going on where you just steal and tag each others things for shits and giggles. his best work? punk-ifying your binders with those like spikes he has on his jackets shoulder pads

firm believer in trans men being shirtless in a binder is normalising something that should’ve been from the beginning- probably also marched a free the titties campaign for all body types and identities cause they aren’t inherently sexual and shouldn’t be (if cis men can, why can’t cis women, y’know?)

if he accidentally damages your shit he’ll either fix or replace it, maybe even make something to compensate

or it becomes part of the fit

these lil things have helped personalise your things greatly- there’s nice little details all over that make you both crack smiles

makes sure that throughout missions you’re good if you’re binding, which he honestly just doesn’t dictate. won’t be the type to tell you off for wearing it too long or during missions, it’s not your fault that you’re just doing what makes you feel more like yourself

instead just makes sure that you’re well rested after the missions over and does things for you so you don’t strain

(DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. I WILL FIND YOU.)

if by some unfortunate twist of fate you don’t have a binder, hobie will probably diy you one. argues that they can be mass produced by corporations, why can’t he make one by hand? just one more win for the anarchists

diy binders are dangerous, especially if they’re not made right. i’d like to think hobie would try his best, but i imagine he doesn’t have access to the right materials

in this case, he probably rips apart his shit trying to find the right elastic cloths for your safety

that, or he makes a makeshift binders just a bit looser than it should be to reduce the risk of hurting you.

absolute worst case scenario ? could honestly fashion something out of webs (i have a spidersona that does this) mans a genius, he’ll figure something out

positive ? binder looks sick since he makes it

(ok ur safe, continue)

if you’ve got top surgery, good for u, hobie will have ur head if you don’t take the appropriate recovery time

if you are involved with spider society, he either takes your missions for you or absolutely terrorises miguel into not giving you any

you think it’s just a subconscious, casual thing that hobie does but he always manages to slip a “lad” “boy” “man” into his sentences whenever speaking to or about you. gender affirmations innit

that being said, hobie views you as a man wholeheartedly

hobie’s into physical touch so probably got an arm slung around your shoulder, tons of playfully nudges whenever he sees fit (often)

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

i also wanna stress rq that the way i portray hobie; he’s so incredibly supportive, hype man, but he’s not this sunshine and rainbows thing i’ve seen some people portray him as

he’s laid back, nonchalant but can get excited (like w the whole “miles my guy” scene where he’s so hype)

thinks/knows he’s hot shit but it doesn’t make him arrogant. man just knows what he’s capable of and gets to be laid back thanks to it

[tealclover]

This Way Out

So, Tails slipped up. Not only did he manage to get himself snagged, but he dragged Belle into this with him. To make matters worse, Starline was unbearably smug about the whole thing. Yeah, yeah, he got the Sonic the Hedgehog’s sidekick. Whoop-de-friggin-doo.

Just when Tails was starting to prove himself again. Ugh. How embarrassing. 

Well, enough of that. He promised Sonic he’d be fine, and he intended to keep his word. All he had to do was find a way to get Belle and himself out safely. … But who exactly were those two Mobians hanging around the facility?

(Alternate ending to Sonic IDW Issue #36, featuring a snarky fox. Some angst, some crack.)

Even before fully regaining consciousness, Tails knew he was in for a headache. And not just literally, though the pulsing in his temple was certainly noteworthy.

For starters, before even opening his eyes, he was lying stiffly on his back of all places. Tails never slept on his back if he could help it – his namesakes made resting much more reasonable on his side or belly. Sleeping on his tails was both uncomfortable and impractical. Impractical because it left his belly and other more vulnerable parts exposed. Uncomfortable due to the cold and the fact that his namesakes trapped underneath him, occasionally numb from lack of bloodflow. Which they were. But so were his arms and his legs, and, oh, he couldn’t move at all actually. 

It was probably too much to hope that that beeping indicated that he’d spent the last fifteen hours on a stone-hard hospital bed, seeing how his last waking recollection involved him and Belle separating, tons of snow, and…

Starline. Who wanted to kidnap him. For supposedly scientific purposes.

Ugh.

With no small amount of trepidation, the fox bleerily opened his eyes. He was immediately rewarded for his efforts with too much light why couldn’t he live like the nocturnal creatures foxes were meant to be and a sinister chuckle that grated on his nerves.

“Ah, Young Master Prower. I see you are awake.”

Yup. And he wished he wasn’t.

“Starline.” Oof. Voice crack. That wasn’t doing his credibility any favors. How long had he been out? He coughed, trying to get his voice back before roughly continuing: “I hope you’ve got a five star meal on the way; otherwise I’m going to have to give this stay a poor review. Don’t tell me this is a hospital bed,” he grimaced at the surface he was strapped to, arms, tails, and all. He was trapped for the time being, but appeared to be intact, at least. If the bindings were ignored, he could have passed for a patient – the presence of the finger pulse oximeter amongst other diagnostic tools were certainly intriguing, if not concerning. Were those vials of blood his? “Or do. Cause I’m not sure there’s much I can do for you if you think it’s acceptable to let your guests sleep on tables.”

The platypus stared at him for a few seconds, like he hadn’t expected the witty response. It was actually kind of funny to watch him visibly reboot and reassess the fox. Finally, he sighed. “I suppose you were raised by Sonic. It makes sense that you would share his poor taste in humor.”

“It clearly beats your taste in decor,” Tails sniped back. Starline hummed at that.

“Public perception of you paints you to be a polite boy genius. It seems that isn’t entirely true.”

Tails shrugged. Or tried to, anyway. “The general population wouldn’t consider strapping me to an examination table. Care to explain that, by the way?”

Starline smiled a sweet-sick smile. “Oh, you’re curious, are you? To be quite frank, I want to see if you can find out. Why don’t you and Miss Belle take a moment to catch up?”

Tails froze. “Belle?”

“I'm here, Tails…” the voice came from his left. He peered over as far as he could to see the robotic marionette on a second table a short distance away. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, but from what he could see of her… she looked distraught. Not fearful, necessarily, but despairing, which was somehow even more worrisome. 

“Belle, are you okay?” He asked gently. She sniffled, ducking her head into her chest as best as she could. Were those… tear tracks on her cheeks? She could cry? Why was she crying? He took a second to shoot a gleeful Starline a sharp glare before refocusing on his newest companion. “Belle, are you hurt?” 

“... No,” she whispered.

Tails didn’t know if he believed that, but he didn’t know how to press the issue with the correct amount of sensitivity, especially with Starline hovering over them. What a creep. Couldn’t he leave? “Okay… okay. It’s going to be alright, I promise.” He waited for Belle’s tiny nod before continuing. “How long have you been active?”

“About… twenty minutes. I’ve been offline s-since the avalanche. I… I’m sorry, Tails. You came back for me and now-”

“I’m not worried about that, Belle,” he told her, firmly but not unkindly. “We’ll figure it out. Can you tell me what you remember?”

“I…” She made a strangled sound, but forced herself to continue. “My d-d… my creator was Mr. Tinker.” Tails gut sank. He wasn’t surprised, not with their matching attire, but it was still a sad confirmation to hear. “That… that jerk figured it out. He, he told me-” she hiccuped again. “It’s his fault Mr. Tinker is gone. He changed him into Eggman.”

“... I’m sorry, Belle.” What could he say to that? This wasn’t something he could fix with a wrench and a bit of mechanical know-how. Belle was a robot, but her feelings were hardly artificial. After Emerl, Gamma, and their successors, Tails was very well aware of that. She was just as much of a person as anyone organic; something that was clear to him from the moment they met. He couldn’t just reprogram her to feel better. Or, well, maybe he could, but that wouldn’t be right. To do so would likely be robbing her memories and cheapening her experiences, changing who she was in the process. It wouldn’t truly fix anything; frankly, it would likely lead to an identity crisis later on.

And so, all he had to offer her was kindness, and time to recover once they escaped.

“I… don’t know how to help with Mr. Tinker, but my friends and I would be happy to have you, if you want. I have space for you back at my workshop, and the Restoration accepts anyone who wants to to have a part of it. If you want a home, we’ll give you one. We can try to figure out the rest in time.”

Belle was quiet. Finally, she tearfully confessed, “That would be nice.”

He offered her a smile even though she still wasn’t looking. “I’m glad you think so. We’ll do our best to make it worth your while.” He hesitantly continued. “Did Starline do anything else?”

She shook her head. “He just… listened to me talk a-about Dad. About home, Windmill Village, and how the villagers kicked me out after the Metal Virus cleared up. I got so mad, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t care. He doesn’t care at all about what he did. He only wanted the code.”

“Code…?” At that, Tails shot another glance in their captor’s direction, though the platypus had since turned his attention to the monitor at Tails�� side, turned so that the fox couldn’t read any of the details. Were Belle’s readings stashed away in that device? … No. At least, it wasn’t just her information. Starline was gathering his vitals as well. But why? From the sounds of things, he was trying to get a reaction out of Belle earlier, and now, he was… testing Tails? Did he truly want him to uncover the motivations behind their kidnappings or was he simply fishing for another set of reactions from a different subject? He wouldn’t put it past Starline to have something of a sadistic streak – most villains lately did – but not one without purpose. If that was all he did, there had to have been some sort of incentive, something to be gained…

Why him? Why Belle? Her thoughts and feelings, and his-

Was he trying to record them both?

Was Starline in his head right now? 

A delighted laugh at his side told him that yes, he probably was.

“Positively remarkable, young Master Prower! You are truly one of a kind.” The platypus’ hands clapped together. “It is no wonder Sonic has prevailed for so long! He is powerful on his own, but you, you can keep pace with him, you adapt to his spontaneity and can plan in the heat of the moment so that he is successful in his every endeavor, no matter how foolish or impossible.  It is little wonder that the two of you alone keep Doctor Eggman on his toes, despite his armies, his keen intellect, and his prowess…” He stood to approach Tails again, looking down upon him with glee. “You truly are the greatest of combinations.”

That would have been a heart-warming compliment, had it not come from the mouth of a madman. As it stood, the fox had to resist the urge to squirm under that predatory gaze. He would not give Belle another reason to be afraid. 

“And, in spite of knowing all of that,” Tails mildly remarked, “you brought me straight to your base.”

Starline was likely to overestimate himself. In his eyes, he had a useful enemy at his mercy. He was less likely to seriously consider the fact that, in the process, he had invited that very foe into his base, to say nothing of the others that would come knocking down his door later.

… Let him read those thoughts.

“Is that a threat?” The doctor mockingly inquired, unfazed and clearly quite confident. “You hardly have the advantage, fox.”

“I've gotten out of stickier situations.” This wasn't even the first time somebody thought to make a labrat of him, his first encounter with the Deadly Six coming to mind. … Hopefully, this wasn't going to become a trend. 

“Perhaps, but I've taken precautions. Escape won't come easily for you.” The villain adjusted his glove with a self-assured smirk. “You are now quite the valuable asset to my plans.”

“Which are…?” Tails pressed, earning him a condescending pat on the head that made his skin crawl.

“All in due time, little specimen. As it stands, I've already shared too much with you, and I really must get back to work. You have such fascinating insights; it’s a pity we won’t be discussing this further, seeing how you will have no recollection of this conversation,” he coolly lamented, hand shifting from his bangs to his eyes.

“Now, it is time for you to go back to sleep.”

So... yup! Here's a glimpse of a brainworm I've had for a little while regarding Issue #36. It's a little rough and is absolutely a WIP (the end is particularly prone to change), but I felt like sharing a bit of it! Hope whoever finds it likes it! :)

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Mad Worshipper's Chapter 249

TL;DR - Cale fights Sisko using the water spears of Sky-Eating Water (SEW). Eru fights Bishop Horns. SEW summons giant chains to bind Sisko.

Cale vs Sisko Cale really fought well today. Sisko could use her mana to be like aura, and she combined her Dragon Fear with her Struggle attribute to create a hazy field that was called her "area/domain." If a power weaker than hers entered that area, its power would be weakened.

So when Cale threw water spears to her, the haze weakened his attacks. But Cale kept increasing his power with each spear throw, and eventually, the spear became stronger than her haze, destroying her area.

Sisko's next move was to combine Dragon Fear, her mana, and her Struggle attribute, creating another haze that even gave Cale goosebumps. Thus, Cale's ancient powers came up with another move.

SEW was bound by the chains of the God of War (GoW) when Cale first met her. Those chains were eventually broken, but now, she came up with the idea of using it. She imitated those chains and summoned 8 giant chains in the battlefield.

Dominating Aura (DA) joined in and added his power to those chains. Feeling the effects of DA, Sisko mistook it to be the power of a god because she had once felt that when she met a god. Of course, Cale frowned when he heard that because he was already fed up with all this god nonsense. 😂

Cale won in the end after Sisko was bound by the chains. And as he was growing confident of taking on the Dragon Lord because he realized his power had grown, Super Rock came to warn him that whenever he thought like that, he always coughed blood... 🤣🤣🤣

Ending Remarks I was supposed to write a reaction, but somehow, it ended up as a narration or summary... 😆 Well, it couldn't be helped because the fight today was good. Next chapter would probably be a more detailed fight of Eruhaben vs. Horns. Or the fight of Cale's group versus the 2nd subjugation force.

...Come to think of it, Clopeh was supposed to be here, right? So where is he now? He hasn't appeared since the fight against the elves began.

[nyonyen]

NSFW ALPHABET - ratman 4

AO3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

4 loves to worship, so he’ll scramble to do everything right to the best of his ability. look, he even made sure the beer was cold before he gave it to you! on the other hand, he can get into a ruminating state of mind… knock him out of that before he thinks too hard!

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

why wouldn’t he like his third eye? he knows it’s a bit of an odd placement, and it’s functionally useless— but it’s still cool… right? he loves your waist… being able to wrap his arms around it and bring you as close as possible to him

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

loves being edged and being made to climax multiple times— it’ll take a lot to get that information out of him, however

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

went through the ivory’s laundry and took one of nyen’s sweaters for… personal reasons. it’s nice to have some semblance of control over your worst enemy/fear, right?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

4 can actually read pretty well, so he knows all the dirty stories in 3’s magazines— but he doesn’t share. just a little thing for him :-) alas, robert knows due to the whole mind-sharing thing. as far as experience beyond that… no dice

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

riding, 100%! seeing you above him is just… indescribable. seeing your chest in his face like that, he can’t resist touching every part of you!

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

i don’t see him as goofy at all, maybe only by accident— especially during sex. ‘why are you laughing? i don’t understand, did i do something wrong? your laugh is really pretty.’

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

dark, thick, and substantial

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

very intimate in all the servitude sorts of ways— dotes on you and makes sure everything is alright. loves to caress your cheek as you ride him

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

never takes off his clothes to do it, somehow turns him on even more? 4 doesn’t question it, just gives in to the primal urge…

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

bondage, ruined orgasms, breathplay (specifically with bindings), worshiping

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

anywhere ‘hidden’ in the main nest while the rest of the ratmen are sleeping. he gets nervous, but that thrill is irresistible

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

4 sometimes falls into the behavior of using sex to cope with deeper feelings, which he has a lot of— all that to say, be prepared at any given moment to be whisked away and 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

akin to 3, wouldn’t do anything to explicitly hurt you. if you asked him, of course, that’s a different story! he’ll still feel pretty guilty though :-(

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

is a pure giver, would stay down there for hours if you asked. probably if you didn’t too, he just loves everything about it— but mostly looking up to see you falling apart all because of his tongue

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

super sensual, but no ratman is exempt from their innate speed!

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

4 doesn’t like them at all, how can he expect to do anything in this short time?! however, if he’s the one subbing? how could he ever say no to a whimpering hand-job in the pipes…

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

not by his own volition, but again, if you were to initiate? his knees are already buckling and he doesn’t know the details yet!

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

super high.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

nope! but would most likely adore a cock ring

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

no teasing here, none whatsoever! only loves to receive it, it’s almost a requirement at this point (but he’d never make demands, hehe!)

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

fairly quiet, but that’s usually because he’s being choked like crazy

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

absolutely desperate for a threesome with robert. the idea of being dommed by both you and him is already making him ache

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

4 inches, average

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

not super high! again, his mood is quite sporadic, so it’s unfair to say that yearns often

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

usually thinks himself into exhaustion after an hour— into a very dreamless sleep

[havenotwillnotreadthebooks]

Headcanon that somehow Finrod is Elrond’s most legally legitimate relative besides Galadriel, Celebrian, and his children (Aragorn excluded).

• Whenever Finrod had a Good Friendship with a Beorian they would make him a godfather of their kid(s).

• Beren is legally Finrod’s godchild (along with several other beorians).

• Then Luthien and Beren decided to honor Finrod by making him the godfather of their kid, Dior.

• By some divine humor, Dior adds Finrod to the legal family registry as his uncle or something.

• Elwing keeps the family registry as it is because if her dad claimed this “Finrod ‘Nóm’ Felagund” is family, it must be true.

• The argument can be made that Elwing left her kids, sure, but whatever anyone’s opinion about Elwing is, Finrod is still legally e&e’s grand-uncle/great-grandfather

Now for the other side!

• Finrod is Idril’s honorary uncle and legal guardian if her parents die. Because Turgon in Valinor never thought death would be a thing and he wanted to annoy his siblings.

• Idril makes Finrod Earendil’s Honorary Grand-Uncle and Legal Guardian, to keep the joke going in an increasingly stressful world.

• Eärendil doesn’t know the joke but the paperwork says Finrod Felagund is his family, and they’re both blonde so it’s probably true.

• Eärendil makes sure to put Finrod in the family registry after Gondolin has fallen and he is all grown up. Gil-Galad squints, but doesn’t question The Dreaded Finwean Family Tree™️.

• Eärendil does not think to communicate Grand-Uncle Finrod to Elwing.

• Elwing does not think to talk to Eärendil about Grand-Uncle Finrod.

And finally

• By his marriage to Celebrian, Elrond is legally Finrod’s nephew-in-law.

• By his feanorian kidnap-adoption, Elrond is Finrod’s second half-cousin.

• Once in Valinor; Elrond has to read all this paperwork and go through the slow realization of “Finrod, again.” As the sunshine elf continues to pop up Everywhere in his family tree both biological and adoptive.

Of course, there are other people that Elrond is also ridiculously related to but, the idea of Finrod “That Friendly Guy” Felagund somehow being Elrond’s most Legally-Binding relative is great.

[waiting4inspiration]

дорогая 3 (The Winter Soldier/Bucky x Reader)

Summary: An opportunity to escape arises, but it doesn't go as well as you would have hoped. And yet, it might have caused a break in Bucky's Winter Soldier mode...

Warnings: strong language, mentions of kidnapping, dark!bucky, dark!winter soldier, mentions of firearms, gaslighting (just a little bit)

Word Count: +2.6k

дорогая Masterlist II Marvel Masterlist

You promised yourself that you wouldn’t let The Winter Soldier break you, that you would fight until someone finds you or until Bucky somehow snaps out of it, whichever comes first. But as you sit in the dark room you’ve been confined to, handcuffed to the bedpost, the days blur together without a clock in the room. All you have to go by is the small slit in the curtains where you can see whether or not it’s night or day. 

It’s like hell. With nothing to do to keep yourself busy, all you can do is sit on the bed, staring at the blank wall in front of you. The pain in your arm is dull now because you’ve gotten used to it being chained to the post. All you can really do is try and think of ways you can get out of this by yourself because it seems that the team is not going to be coming to your rescue. 

The door opens for the first time in what’s probably been a few days. Something inside you hopes that it’s your captor with a plate of food. Even the thought of food makes your stomach grumble. 

Seeing that he’s holding a plate in his hand, you sit up quickly and a hopeful breath catches in your throat. He chuckles at you, walking over to the small, wonky table a bit away from the bed and placing the plate on it. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll take those cuffs off and leave them off if you eat everything on that plate,” he says, leaning against the table with his arms folded over his chest. “Not that I was against you not eating. That was your choice. A stupid choice, considering not eating makes you weaker and more susceptible to breaking easier-”

“I’ll eat,” you cut him off, your voice breaking slightly, but your words cause him to smile at you. It’s not a warm smile like how Bucky used to smile at you in the compound. This smile is sinister, like he’s happy he’s gotten his way. 

He picks the plate up again before talking toward you, gently placing it on the bed in front of you, all while keeping eye contact with you. You eye him carefully, making sure he doesn’t have anything to take you by surprise so that he doesn’t have to play this game anymore and he can just take what he wants. You make sure he doesn’t have a weapon on him, but he’s clean. You wonder if he even knows about the secret stash of weapons you have here in your own safe house.

“You see how easy this can be if you just cooperate?” he asks in a whisper, holding his hands up in defeat as he takes a step back while reaching for his pocket. 

You know he expects you to say something about that in return, but you bite your tongue and reach for a piece of the bread on the plate. Truth be told, you don’t have the energy to fight him now, whether that is verbally or physically. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the cuffs binding you to the post. “What, you giving me the silent treatment now?”

The moment your wrist is free, you pull it straight to your chest, protecting it from being grabbed by The Winter Soldier. “What do you want me to say?” you ask, keeping your eyes on your food when you feel him slowly sit down on the space beside you on the bed. 

“You could start by saying thank you.”

“And what exactly do I have to be thankful for?” you snap back at him, mumbling through a mouthful of food as you take another bite of the bread in your hands. 

“Well then, I’ll just put these back on-” When his hand reaches for your wrist again, you quickly move away, staring wide-eyed at him as you hold your arms close to your body. He sees a slight hint of fear in your eyes like you know now that your life lies in his hands, that he will provide you with food, water, and other things to keep you alive but you also know that he can take those things away from you just as easily. 

He smiles to himself as he gently places his hand on your shoulder before running his fingers down the bare skin of your arm. “You don’t have to be scared of me. Would you be scared of Bucky?”

You take in a deep breath through your nose, your skin crawling at his touch that you try to pull away from. “He wouldn’t do this to me,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. 

“How sure are you about that?” he whispers back, his lips close to your ear, his breath against your lobe making a shiver run down your spine. “You really think that he doesn’t want this? That he doesn’t want what I want? You forget that we are still one and the same person. The only difference is that I’m not afraid to take what I want.”

When you try to swallow your food, you find it hard to do that, your throat almost closing up as you think of his words. It makes you overthink every encounter you’ve had with Bucky, thinking about every touch and every word and what they could have meant. 

Shaking your head, you push the plate of food away from you and force yourself to look him in the eye. “I don’t believe you.”

“You should, Дорогая.” He expects you to react to the nickname the way you do all the time, but you don’t even roll your eyes at him. You’ve gotten so used to hearing it now, you don’t even react to it anymore. It makes him smile, and he reaches up to push a piece of hair behind your ear even though you try to move away from his hand. “What kind of relationship do you expect us to have if you don’t believe me? Or trust me? Have I ever given you a reason to be afraid of me?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You fucking strangled me and kidnapped me-”

“And you could have gotten out of all that if you wanted to,” he cuts you off, making you frown at him. “I’ve seen you fight. You can be quite vicious when you want to be. You’ve gotten out of worse scraps before, I shouldn’t be much of a challenge to you. And yet, you didn’t fight back at all. You want to be here just as much,” he says, leaning closer to your face. 

You shake your head, telling yourself not to believe him, and his hand takes hold of your chin gently, but you can still feel his power in the hold. “You and I both know that you can escape if you want to. You know this house and these woods better than I do. But you’re not going to because you know, deep down, that you’re enjoying this. You’re enjoying being away from the team, being here with only me. You know that you want this too. That’s why you’re still here and why you’re not fighting me now, Дорогая.”

You don’t want to believe him, telling yourself that you could not fight back every time he overpowered you. And yet, when you think back to that time in your room at the compound, you didn’t even put up that much of a fight. Or, you don’t think you did. Did you?

You don’t want him to be right, but you think he is. 

He chuckles when he sees you second-guessing yourself and pushes himself off the bed. “Eat some more,” he says, breaking the silence between you two as he points back to the plate. “Don’t leave this room until I come to get you. Maybe I’ll let you walk around outside if you promise to behave.” The first part was an order which he tried to lighten with the second half of his words. He caresses your cheek quickly before pushing himself off the bed and striding across the room, not waiting for you to respond to him as he leaves you alone again. 

Staring at the door, you wait for the sound of it locking, but it doesn’t come. Something tells you that he’s doing this to test you. He’s probably sitting right outside the door, waiting for you to break his order and leave because you think that he won’t be there. 

You hear thunder rumbling outside the distance, making you break your gaze from the door to the window. An idea comes to mind when you see the glass between the curtains, pushing you off the bed. Your feet hit the ground quietly like you’re afraid The Winter Soldier will hear you moving in the room. Without your hands cuffed to the bed anymore, you breathe a sigh of relief when you can stand up and walk without restriction. 

Slowly, you move towards the window, opening the curtains to see rain falling from the sky. It starts off light, but as you stare out at the trees, watching them sway in the wind, the rain starts to pour, thunder and lightning dancing in the clouds. 

Your hands reach for the base of the window, praying that it’s easy to open and that he hasn’t found a way to keep it shut. Holding your breath, you lift the window pane and it opens without a fuss. 

Feeling the fresh air against your face, you let out a deep sigh and feel your shoulders relax. You stay still for a moment, your eyes closed as you take the smell of rain in. Then, you come too.

You examine the window, seeing how much space you have to work with to escape. He’s right. You do know these woods well. You have to know which direction to go to get to safety in case your location was compromised and you had to get out of there. It’s never had to happen, but you think you will have an advantage if you decide to escape. 

What are you thinking? Of course, you’re going to escape. You’re going to fight back. You’re going to show him that you don’t want what he wants, that you will fight back, and that you won’t give in. 

Even though you wish you had more to eat and you feel like resting because you know you’ll need all the strength you can muster up, you know that if you don’t go now, you might never have this opportunity again. 

Something inside you, a small voice, tells you that this is a test. If you do this, you’ll fail that test and he’ll be upset with you. You don’t want to upset him…

“Screw it,” you whisper to yourself, stepping back to stick a leg out the window. 

Slowly and carefully, you squeeze yourself out the window, trying to not make any noise to alert him from outside the room as to what you’re doing. Finally out in the open, you take a few steps back, keeping your eyes on the door inside to make sure he doesn’t walk through while you’re still outside.

And without a second thought, you turn and bolt away from the cabin, not even caring about the rain quickly soaking through your clothes. 

It takes you a while to find your bearings, especially while the sun is going down so quickly. As you weave through the trees, shivering in the cold rain, your heart skips a beat and drops in your stomach when you hear a gunshot in the distance, followed by your name being shouted in the distance. It didn’t take The Winter Soldier long to notice your absences and you haven’t even gotten far. 

You are so screwed. 

You’ve heard that The Winter Soldier is like a predator hunting a target. It’s terrifying to think that you’re now the prey. The comfort that you know these woods like the back of your hand dwindles now that it’s darker. You feel lost, your heart thumping loudly in your ears, scared that one wrong turn will send you straight into your captor’s arms again. 

Hearing him in the distance, your mind tells you to run away even if it’s not in the right direction. You can hear him taunting you, calling out to you in Russian and with that damned nickname he always uses. Even though you’re exhausted, you push yourself as much as you can run faster. 

As you shake your head, doubting that you can go any further, your foot catches on an exposed root, making you trip and fall forward, face-planting into the leafy ground. You groan as the pain spreads through your ankle, and your body refuses to go on as you stand up, making tears well up in your eyes.

“You have quite an impressive armory, Дорогая,” he calls, his voice a lot closer now than it was, your fall probably alerting him of your position. “Didn’t think I’d find it, did you? But I did. I had to clear it out before you ended up finding the strength to fight back.” 

All you can hear is the thundering of your heart in your throat as the rain pours down. It’s suddenly quiet, terrifying you more when you can’t hear him anymore. You try to listen for his footsteps, but you can’t hear anything. 

In the darkness, he sneaks up on you, pushing you against the tree behind you, his metal hand wrapped around your throat, taking you back to when he caught you off guard in your room. 

“Didn’t think you’d do something like this. Especially after I warned you what would happen if you tried to run,” he sneers, his grip around your throat tightening, pushing any air out of your windpipe. 

“Please, don’t,” you beg, tears falling from your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. You shake your head, a sob leaving your lips as you desperately cling to his arm holding you against the tree. He looks like he could murder you right now if he wanted to with the cold look in his eyes. 

You tried. You tried to fight back and escape and it failed. Again. You can’t win. No matter how much you try, he will always find you and you know that from stories of The Winter Soldier and now from personal experience. The Winter Soldier never gives up on his targets. Bucky told you that. 

“Bucky,” you whisper, deciding to give it one last chance to try and reach out to the man trapped in his own mind. “I can’t fight back anymore. I don’t have any more strength. Please,” you cry.

His face softens, his grip around your throat falters, and his shoulders fall as he takes a small step back. “(Y/n),” he whispers, his hand falling away from your neck, resting on your collarbone as you take a deep breath. 

With a flash of lightning, you can see the change in his face. It’s not as harsh as the Winter Soldier. It bears the softness of Bucky when you’ve talked to him. Still heaving, trying to restore your lungs from running and from when he was strangling you, the tears continue to fall down your cheeks at the thought that you could be safe now that Bucky’s come around. 

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as a twinge in his neck makes him look away from you. When his hand on your collarbone tightens again, his jaw tensing, and his arm pushing you back against the tree, your heart drops again as he looks back at you. 

“I’m sorry.” And without another word, he forces his head forward against yours, knocking you out in one headbutt, and catching you as you fall in his arms.

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[jeonginify]

star lost (01) — hwang hyunjin. ·˚ ༘♡

↝ pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader ↝ genre: humor, romance, angst, soulmate!au ↝ word count: 5.7k ↝ warnings: alcohol consumption, glitter bath bombs, changbin and jisung are menaces to society and should probably be stopped, general pessimism, hwang hyunjin (he should come w a label himself), reader is shirtless for like half a scene but nothing suggestive happens, this is like the song invisible string but like... more depressing

↝ summary: in a world where you can see every red string that connects soulmates to each other except your own, you have long given up on the idea of love. then, in a flurry of glitter and wonder, you meet hwang hyunjin under the most unlikely of circumstances, and find that maybe (just maybe) things aren’t as simple as you initially thought they were. OR, after years of wondering if your soulmate is out there, you finally meet him. too bad he is in love with your best friend.

PART ONE | next. series masterlist

You never expect to meet your soulmate at 2am in Changbin’s bathtub and yet, with the resounding clarity of his garish white bathroom lightbulbs as the backdrop for your utter demise, that is exactly how it happens. 

It is a good thing, you suppose, that you don’t believe in soulmates anyways. You know they exist—after so many years, how could you not? It’s just that you don’t believe in a soulmate for you.

The funny part is that you weren’t even going to go to Changbin’s tonight. He had spent the last week bugging you about the party, but you told him ages ago that you wouldn’t be able to make it. Some bullshit assignment or another had been your go-to excuse, but really, you just didn’t have another alcohol-strobe light-bad decision-hazed night in you for at least another month...

Not after the dayger Jisung had dragged you along to last week, where the two of you drank so much you both blacked out and woke up hours later in a communal tomato garden.

“So you’ll come Friday?” Changbin had asked hopefully earlier that Monday.

Despite the sunny day, your hoodie was pulled tight around your face and a pair of sunglasses were perched on your nose. By then, your bender with Jisung had been three days ago, and yet somehow—you were still hungover. 

Not that Changbin cared.

To make matters (read: your pounding headache) worse, he was wearing a red shirt that day. On a normal day, the color red was a mild nuisance—a reminder of something you would like to try your hardest to forget. 

On a bad day, however? Let’s just say the red really wasn’t doing anything to help Changbin’s case.

The reason you hate the color red and the reason you don’t believe in soulmates is one in the same. Since you were young, the color red has been synonymous with love... Not because of societal conventions, but because of the elusive red strings of fate that bind soulmates together—elusive red strings that, for some reason, you have always been able to see.

Sometimes, you think the universe is condemning you. You must have done something horrible in your past life, there must be something you are repenting for. Why else would you be one of the few people who can actually see the threads of fate?

“Bin,” you sighed as your best friend trailed behind you.

“Y/N,” Changbin parroted back, keeping perfect pace with you.

“I’m not going.” The blood thrumming through your ears was so loud that you almost didn’t hear the whine he let out.

The hangover was just heavy enough for you to pretend like you didn’t hear it anyways.

You were resolute in your decision not to go to the party. It was final. After the week that you had, frankly, you felt like you deserved a break from the chaos (read: Changbin’s horrible drinking habits.)

Which is why, when Yuna called you on Wednesday, your answer remained the same.

“Please?”

Your phone was wedged between your shoulder and your ear as you shuffled the stack of papers in your hands.

You weren’t technically allowed to be on your phone during work hours, but the office had been empty that afternoon and your boss never cared much anyways—so when the name of your favoritest friend (a fact that Changbin would sorely disagree with) flashed across your phone screen, you barely hesitated before pressing answer.

“Yuns, I already told you,” you squinted, trying to make out the last four digits on the account number you were processing. 

“I’m not going.”

“But—”

“—Nope,” you cut her off.

Even though the three of you have been friends since childhood, you have always found it much harder to say no to Yuna than it is to say no to Changbin. It’s probably because she is so cute, and he is so... annoying, but something about her puppy dog eyes makes it impossible for you to refuse her.

Which is why on any other day, for any other occasion, it wouldn’t have taken you much to cave to Yuna’s pleading.

You haven’t seen much of her ever since she started seeing someone new a few months back, and frankly—you did miss her. A lot. 

But... you really didn’t have another night out in you. So, resolutely, you stood your ground.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Yuna’s pout was tangible, even through the phone.

“Yes I do,” you retorted. “Changbin obviously put you up to this.”

“No he didn’t!”

Your silence was enough of an indication that you didn’t believe her.

“Okay,” Yuna said quickly. “He did ask me to try and convince you, but in his defense, I was going to ask you anyways!”

“I really can’t make it Friday.”

“...Really?” The disappointment was thick in her voice.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, but a tiny seed of guilt had already taken root in the front of your mind.

You hadn’t felt bad about saying no to Changbin because, well, he was always throwing parties, and after attending every single one this year, missing this one wasn’t that big of a deal. 

But something about the genuine disappointment in Yuna’s voice was turning your stomach inside out.

“It’s no big deal,” Yuna sighed after a moment. “There’s always the next party, I guess...”

“Knowing Changbin, we’ll be at his place again next week,” you said wryly.

“I just...” Yuna began, almost chagrined. “I was thinking about maybe bringing my boyfriend this time. But I guess I can always bring him around later...”

“Wait,” you paused them, your fingers fluttering anxiously. “Say that again?”

“Well, I mean, you’ve been badgering me to introduce him for so long, so,” she blabbered.

“Yuns, you bitch!” You exclaimed shrilly, dropping the papers in your hand.

“Thanks?” Yuna said unsurely.

You took a deep, steeling breath, and then you said, “what time is the party?”

Which is exactly how, despite your best efforts, you end up at Changbin’s place at 11:30pm on Friday.

On your walk over, you consider turning around and going home at least three times. God knows how insufferable Changbin is going to be when he sees you show up despite your insistence on not coming... But the mystery of Yuna’s new boyfriend has been killing you for so long that you have no choice but to go.

She hadn’t been exaggerating when she said you have been begging her to introduce her new boyfriend for forever. Throughout the many years that you have known her, you and Changbin have always been particularly protective over her. She has always had a tendency to dive headfirst into things with no regard for her heart, and after a few too many sleazy guys and failed relationships, it is only natural for you to be worried.

Even though you can see the red strings of fate, you have always done your best to ignore their presence. In your experience, the knowing just complicates things. If things are meant to be, they will be, and being caught in the middle doesn’t hurt anyone but you. And yet—you love Yuna so much that you can’t help but check her red string every time she meets someone new.

Maybe that is why it is such a big deal to you, to meet her new boyfriend. Or maybe it is because recently, she has been happier than usual. Much happier. You can’t remember the last time you saw her smile this much. Even Changbin has noticed—which is saying a lot when you consider the time you dyed your hair bright orange and he didn’t notice for a week and a half.

Despite it all, however, she still hasn’t introduced you two to him.

“I’m just taking it slow,” Yuna insisted the first time you brought it up.

“Slow?” Changbin had said, his mouth full of the Chinese takeout you had picked up on your way over to his place.

“When have you ever taken anything slow?”

A cheesy “your mom” joke was on the tip of your tongue, but one look from Yuna was enough to silence you.

“I’m serious,” she said, looking vaguely embarrassed. 

Her response remained the same every time you asked after that, and that was that.

Until tonight.

When you walk into Changbin’s apartment, the strobe lights are the first thing that greets you.

The second is a jello shot, shoved so close to your face that you can’t even see who is offering it to you.

The jello shot is red, and you regret leaving your apartment tonight.

“Entry fee,” someone says gleefully, shaking the shot in your face.

“Bottoms up!”

“Jisung, if you don’t get that out of my face in three seconds, you’ll learn a whole new meaning to the phrase ’bottoms up,’” you threaten.

The jello shot is gone in an instant, replaced by Jisung’s concerned face.

“Y/N, being mean and turning down free alcohol? What’s has the world come to?” He wonders.

Then, his face pales and he quickly says, “is this about the garlic incident? Because I swear, I really don’t know it ended up in your socks!”

You wrinkle your nose and shove him away from you.

“No, this is not about the garlic thing...” You grumble.

Despite how early in the night it is, the apartment is already pretty packed. A beer pong table is set up in the corner, where Chan and Felix seem to be losing horribly against two guys you don’t recognize. The couch has been pushed to the side, creating a makeshift dance floor, and a murky cooler of jungle juice takes up the majority of the tiny kitchen.

The entire apartment is cast in a hazy purple glow, and for a moment, you feel a little too underdressed in your sweats. Then you remember that you are only here for Yuna and that you don’t really care what anyone else thinks, and the feeling fades as quick as it came.

“And,” you add, “thanks for making me sound like an alcoholic. Is it a crime for me to turn down a shot?”

“Yes,” Jisung says seriously. 

“Woah there,” An arm wraps around you from behind. “Peer pressure is not cool, Ji.”

“It’s not peer pressure,” Jisung insists. “It’s Y/N. If anything, she does the peer pressuring.”

“I’m going to ignore that,” you flip him off.

“And you,” you jab Changbin in the arm, shoving him off of you, “are one to talk. Remind me again, who was bothering me all week to come tonight even after I said no?”

“Who was it? Just point and I’ll take them out,” he feigns ignorance, looking around the apartment as if searching for a culprit.

“You are insufferable.”

“And you loooooove me anyways,” Changbin declares gleefully, puckering his lips at you.

You take one look at his expression and crack.

“Give me that,” you say to Jisung, snatching the jello shot out of his hand.

He whoops loudly when you run your fingers along the rim of the plastic cup, and then wipes a fake tear when you throw the shot back.

“I knew my Y/N was in there somewhere,” he says dramatically, his hand held to his heart.

“I’ll kick your ass if you ever say anything like that again,” you smile sweetly.

A cackle bursts forth from Changbin’s lips.

“You shouldn’t say things like that when you know Jisung is into it,” your best friend crows.

“Oh, don’t you have someone’s dick to be sucking?” Jisung glares at him, but a faint dusting of pink covers his cheeks.

Almost unconsciously, your eyes trail down to his pinky finger where a bright red thread is wound tightly. Your heart clenches as you follow the thread across the room and towards the wall until it fades away, disappearing into the distance.

The bass of whatever EDM song is playing through the speakers fills the silence and you purse your lips. You have known for a while about Jisung’s little crush, but the reminder isn’t a pleasant one. Not because you dislike him—precisely because you like him too much. 

In another life, even, you could see yourself falling for him. But the weight of his red thread, the weight of your ability to see it... It isn’t something you can just overlook.

You already tried it, once. At the beginning of college, you decided you weren’t going to let the red string control you, and you started dating a guy. It started off well—the string was just a string, and you were content. Happy, even.

But eventually, the doubt started to creep in. Every time you saw him, the red thread taunted you, and little by little, the obsession began. It ate away at you like a rot, the wondering about who was at the other end of his thread. Eventually, you couldn’t do it anymore.

That is why you could never act on anything with Jisung... Because despite how annoying he can be, he means too much to you.

So when the silence between you stretches out a little bit too long, you roll your eyes and scoff.

“Jisung, you click your tongue, patting his cheek affectionately. “You know it would never work out between us, right? People should date within their league.”

He pouts, and the awkwardness breaks in an instant.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. I think you’re pretty great.”

“Oh, I know.”

It takes a moment for it to click in his head. Then,

“Hey!”

“Anyways,” you brush him off. “Have either of you losers seen Yuna?”

“I saw her a while ago. I think she’s... somewhere.” Changbin waves.

The red solo cup in his hands hovers close enough to you that the burn of vodka, layered between something sweet and syrupy, overwhelms your senses.

“Okay...” You trail off, ruing the day you became friends with such a nuisance.

“And did she happen to come with anyone?”

Changbin shrugs. You turn to Jisung, and his face pales.

“Uh...” He guesses. “Maybe?”

You guys are useless,” you groan.

The only reason you were here tonight was for Yuna. A quick scan of the room, however, told you that she wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Actually, now that I think about it, I remember her stepping out a few minutes ago,” Changbin muses. “She told me she’d be back soon though.”

The satisfied look on his face, as if he is waiting to be praised for telling you that, makes you narrow your eyes.

“Give me another,” you mutter at Jisung, motioning to the tray in his hand.

He offers you a shot without a word and—thankfully—this time, it isn’t red.

You don’t hesitate in snatching it up, and then before either of them can say anything more, you turn on your heel and walk away.

“Y/N?” Changbin calls after you. “Wait, Y/N, where are you going?”

But you have already disappeared into the crowd.

You aren’t sure how, but the second shot is strong than the first one. It burns as it goes down, but you find that you care much less than you would have a few hours ago. Somewhere between walking into the apartment and realizing that Yuna wasn’t here, you decided that the only way you were getting through the night was if you were at least a little intoxicated.

It feels like a cop out after your undying resolve that you wouldn’t get wasted tonight, but your irritation outweighs your embarrassment.

Another shot passes, and you still can’t find Yuna. When you dial her number, the call immediately goes to voicemail, and the text you send afterwards remains unanswered.

Your search for her begins in the kitchen, mostly because it is the place furthest away from Changbin. Yuna isn’t there, but you do run into a few classmates from your history class last semester. Almost against your will, you find yourself caught up in small talk. 

Once the conversation finally fizzles out to awkward silence, you make your way out to the living room, where Chan and Felix are desperately trying to recruit one more player for beer pong.

Yuna isn’t anywhere to be seen, and so when Felix hits you with his signature pout, it doesn’t take much for you to give in.

The game is 2 versus 1, probably because most people have spent the night skirting the duo, and somehow—you still end up winning.

Three times.

After the fourth game, at least half an hour has passed. A drink or two in between has made the world a little bit more hazy, and after playing for so long, victory has started to taste a little bit less sweet.

The truth is, you can only play beer pong (and absolutely decimate your opponents) so many times before you start to get bored, and so you quickly move on from the game despite Chan and Felix’s protests.

An hour more and five increasingly worried texts directed to Yuna later, Changbin finally manages to catch up to you again.

“Y/NNNNNN!” He slurs, swaying as he throws his arms around you.

“Bin,” You wrinkle your nose at the feeling of his flushed skin.

Changbin has always been a touchy drunk, but it was never truly an issue until a year ago, when he started taking his commitment to the gym much more seriously. With all the added muscles, it is that much harder for you in dire times like this, when he throws himself onto you.

“Where—where have you beeeeen?” He asks, then giggles.

“Get it? Beeeeen? Bin?”

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes, trying (to no avail) to shove him off of you.

“Don’t you have a babysitter tonight?”

Changbin nods solemnly. “Jisung’s over there.”

He points behind you. Then, he shakes his head and points to the left of you.

You quickly find that Jisung is in neither of those directions, and instead is leaning against a wall in the far corner chatting up not one, not two, but three girls. His face is flushed deep enough that you can tell how red it is even from across the room, and you are (once again) reminded why you didn’t want to come out tonight.

Both your friends are shit faced, and there is nobody left to take care of them but you. Lovely.

“You guys do this every time,” you mutter (more to yourself than to Changbin) but his face scrunches into a frown.

“Not true!” He pouts. “I—I took care of you last week when you got drunk.”

“Took care of me?” You scoff. “Two hours into the party, Jisung ran off, and you were too busy flirting with Chan to notice me chasing after him.”

“It’s not my fault,” he whines. “He was wearing one of those stupid muscle tees, and I was drunk!”

It is true that Changbin gets particularly flirty when he’s drunk. (It is also true that he has a strange obsession with Chan’s arms.)

Changbin buries his face in your shoulder, and most of his weight is on you as he breathes deeply. His breath smells like a combination of cherry and mint and alcohol, and you wrinkle your nose.

“That sounds really homosexual, Changbin.”

“Nooooo,” he shakes his head. “It’s not homosexual to be distracted by the homies...”

“Don’t say it—” You start. 

“...If anything, it’s homie-sexual.”

Exasperation wells up inside of you, only made worse by the painfully smug look on his face. On any normal day, sober Changbin is barely funny. Drunk Changbin somehow manages to take it to the next level... And not in a good way.

“Get it?” He asks gleefully, waving his arm wildly. “Homie-sexual?”

“Yes,” you say warily, wondering just how much he has had to drink tonight. “I do.”

The drink inside his cup sloshes around audibly, and you smack his arm. 

“Stop waving that around like that!”

Of course, he does the exact opposite of what you tell him. 

And then, in almost comical slow motion, the vodka-and-juice cocktail splashes out of his cup, and you aren’t sure what surprise you more—the cold, sticky feeling of his drink as it drenches the front of your shirt, or the way he manages to not get any of it on himself, despite the way he is clinging onto you.

“Changbin,” you mutter, your voice dangerously low. 

THe sharp edge of your voice is enough to make him pause, and you can see the color drain away from his face at the weight of your glare.

“W-What’s that?” He says loudly, his skin a sickly shade of white. “Sorry, I think Jisung is calling me!”

It takes only a few seconds for him to drunkenly stumble away—in the opposite direction of Jisung. You take a steeling breath through your nose as he rounds the corner, disappearing into the kitchen.

What a night this is turning out to be... You are at a party you didn’t want to be at in the first place, Yuna is still nowhere to be found, and now your favorite shirt is stained pink.

Despite the few drinks you’ve had tonight, the smell of alcohol on you is pungent, borderline revolting. The bass of the music thumps louder still, and irritation wells up inside of you. 

An overwhelming urge to chase Changbin down and kick him in the shins (maybe even somewhere else, too) grips you by the neck, and you have to take at least four more deep breaths to ground yourself.

Still—the noise of the party sits on top of your very being like a sticky layer of tar, and you are only able to fully exhale once it is muted behind the closed door of Changbin’s bathroom: your preferred (and only) option of escape.

It feels like the alcohol is seeping through your thin shirt and into your skin, and when you look in the mirror, you wince.

The reflection staring back at you is, in simple terms, a mess. Deep purple bruises pressed under your eyes, a messy ponytail hung lifelessly at the base of your neck, an unforgiving line in place of your lips... And that isn’t even the worst part.

No, the worst part is your clothes. Worn gray sweatpants that you have slept in for the past three nights, and your ruined shirt—sheer and sticking to your bra in the most skin-crawling way.

You huff and, in a flash of irritation, yank the shirt off. If you don’t wash it now, the stain will set permanently, and if you wear it for one more second, you think you might implode.

The only problem is that your best friend, the one that you chose, just so happens to be an absolutely slob. Ego, his sink is a mess, and ergo, you cannot use it to clean your shirt... Which leaves you with only one option: the bathtub.

“Seo Changbin, when you’re sober, I’m going to end you,” you seethe, dropping to your knees beside the tub.

In a choked sputter, the faucet turns on, drowning out the residual noise of the party. The steady stream of water is strangely comforting, and some of the tension dissolves from your shoulders.

You run your ruined shirt under the tap, fascinated as the water runs a pale red beneath your fingers. The shirt crumples into a thin, soggy heap and you scrub the fabric between your fingers, trying your best to work the warm water between the fibers.

The furrow between your eyebrows deepens. A concoction of excitement and relief swells in your chest as you notice the stain become lighter the longer you hold it under the water.

You are so preoccupied with the burgeoning hope that maybe your shirt isn’t ruined, after all, that it completely slips your mind that you forgot to lock the door—until the knob begins to turn with a rattle. 

There is only a split second before the door swings open, and your head turns just a moment too late.

“Woah!” The exclamation startles you almost as much as the appearance of the guy who walks through the door.

With windswept black hair, feline eyes, and the sharpest jawline you have ever seen, only two thoughts register in your head before you begin to short circuit.

First: damn, he’s hot.

Second, barely a moment later: fuck, you’re shirtless and look like a mess.

“I-I’m sorry!” He exclaims immediately, his slender fingers shooting up to cover his eyes.

It pains you that his voice is deep and just as attractive as you imagined it would be.

You glance down at yourself, a blush rising to your cheeks when you realize just how ridiculous you look on the floor like this without your top on. Your shirt remains hanging from your fingers, and the shock of the handsome stranger sends your elbow jerking in surprise.

A loud clatter resounds, and then—you watch as one of Changbin’s bath bombs tumbles into the tub, straight into the water. The hissing fizz as the bath bomb dissolves under the running water registers only mutely in the back of your mind.

With a resigned sense of horror, all you can do is watch as the bright purple glitter spiderwebs outwards through the water and over your shirt.

“I—Is everything okay?” The guy asks, and when you look up, you see that his hands are still covering his eyes.

Slowly, you lift your shirt out of the water. A faint pang echoes in your heart as you look at the faint purple hue that the fabric has taken on.

You don’t think that will be coming out any time soon.

“I-I’m really sorry, again!” He blabbers on. “I didn’t know anyone was in here, I swear! I wasn’t trying to—like, peep, or anything, it’s just—”

“D’you have to pee?” You interrupt him.

“—like, really loud out there, and—” He stops, his fingers dropping in surprise.

“—I’m sorry, what?”

His eyes fall on you on your knees by the tub, and his hands are back over his eyes in an instant. 

“This is a bathroom,” you point out. “So... Do you have to pee?”

“Oh,” he says, sounding unsure.

It’s almost funny how he shifts from one foot to the other, his nerves palpable within the four walls of the tiny bathroom.

Almost.

“Um, no I don’t,” the words come out stilted. 

Then, he says, “do you?”

Unbidden, a bark of laughter escapes your lips. 

“What do you think?”

“I mean... I can’t really see anything, so...” he reasons.

You raise a brow. “You can uncover your eyes, you know.”

“Are you sure?” He asks hesitantly.

“And maybe close the door while you’re at it,” you add wryly.

“Okay...”

His joints are stiff as he pushes the door shut behind him, and even though he (reluctantly) lowers his hands, his gaze remains fixed on the ceiling.

Then, to your surprise, he shrugs off the sweater he is wearing and offers it to you.

“...Thank you,” you say awkwardly, touched by the gesture.

“I’m Hyunjin, by the way,” he says, finally looking at you after you have wrapped the sweater around yourself and buttoned it up.

It is a few sizes too big, and the v-neck is so low that it doesn’t really hide anything very well, but he seems a little bit more at ease now that you are covered up, and it is soft enough that you can’t really complain.

“Y/N,” you return.

Silence settles over the two of you, only interrupted by the splash of the tub faucet. Your fingers are stained a glittery purple as you fidget with them, the awkwardness almost too much for you to handle. Your shirt, you determine, is a lost cause, and so you abandon it where it is in the tub and turn off the water.

“So, are you hiding in here, too?” he asks once the silence becomes a little too painful.

“Hiding is just the bonus,” you tell him, chagrined as you hold up your ruined shirt. “I was actually trying to wash out a stain, but... well, I’m sure you can see how well that turned out.”

“That... makes a lot more sense...” He says after a moment.

“What? I don’t look like the type to sit shirtless on the floor of a bathroom during a party for fun?” You ask jokingly.

“Not really, no,” he laughs, leaning against the wall.

You sigh, pulling your knees to your chest.

“No, unfortunately, I have stupid friends who get stupid drunk and spill their stupid drinks all over me, hence the lack of a shirt.”

He grimaces. 

“Why are you hiding in here?” You ask, not wanting the awkward silence to settle over the two of you again.

“Parties aren’t really my thing,” he says after a moment.

“I get that,” you say, thinking about just how much you wish you didn’t come tonight. Despite your track record with parties (which, you would like to make clear, are usually Jisung’s fault) you can’t help but sympathize with him anyways.

“So,” you continue. “Who do you know here?”

“No one, really,” he says sheepishly. “I think that might be why I feel so out of it. I don’t usually resort to hiding in bathrooms with shirtless women.”

A blush rises to your cheeks at the joke.

“No one?” You ask. “Then why did you come at all? No offense, but if I was you, I would have stayed home.”

I really tried my best to, you think to yourself.

“You know,” he says, “that is a great question. I was supposed to meet someone here, but she never showed.”

You wince. “Stood up? At Changbin’s party, of all places? I think you might be having a worse night than me.”

He buries his face in his hands.

“Oh, please,” he groans. “Don’t remind me. I’ll spend the next few weeks trying to live the embarrassment down. Especially after my best friend told me not to come...”

“It’s okay,” you tell him soberly. “Lucky for you, I have the best cure for embarrassment.”

“Do you really?” He asks hopefully.

You nod. “Oh, yes. In fact, I’ve found that tequila is the solution for all problems.”

He purses his lips at the suggestion, but a moment later when you stand up and open the bathroom door, he follows you out into the chaos of the party without a word.

“Don’t tell anyone,” you say as you enter the kitchen, “but this is where Bin keeps the good stuff.”

Luckily, most of the party has crowded in the living room, distracted by some (rather horrible) dance moves Jisung has pulled out of his pocket. When you bend down to retrieve a particularly expensive bottle from where it is hidden under the sink, Hyunjin seems a bit skeptical.

“You don’t think he’ll be annoyed?” He raises a brow.

You scoff.

“After all the shit he’s put me through? I’d like to see him try.”

His brow remains creased, and you deadpan.

“Hyunjin, who do you think ruined my shirt?”

“Oh,” realization flickers in his eyes. 

“And besides,” you declare as you grab two red Solo cups and set them on the counter. “He’ll understand. It’s for a good cause, after all.”

You pour a very generous amount of tequila in both cups, and then place the bottle back where you found it.

“Cheers?” Hyunjin raises one of the cups towards you.

“Cheers.” You mirror him, clicking your cup against his before tapping the bottom down on the counter. Then, you finally throw the contents back.

The tequila is smooth enough that you barely feel it go down, but Hyunjin still winces at the taste.

“That good?” You ask him with a laugh.

“I can already feel the embarrassment fading,” he says, his face still sour. “...Or maybe that’s just the taste.”

You laugh again. “You’re funny.”

“...Thank you.”

“I don’t really see why you got stood up,” you say offhandedly. “But I guess it’s her loss. It’s not like you’re secretly a troll, or something.”

A moment passes.

“...Are you?”

He shrugs, a smile playing on his lips.

“Ooooh, mysterious,” you return his smile with a smirk. “I like it.”

“Thank you,” he says, this time his tone more playful.

“Y/N,” the sound of your name reminds you where you are, distracting you from your conversation. “Y/N, there you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“What happened now?” You ask wearily, your eyes narrowed as they land on Chan. Hyunjin looks at you curiously, then at Chan, and then back at you.

Chan’s face crumples in worry, and you know immediately that you won’t like what he has to say.

“It’s Changbin.”

“Of course it is,” you mutter.

Of course it is Changbin, being yet again an absolute nuisance to you tonight.

“Alright,” you exhale after a moment. “Where is he?”

Chan wordlessly points towards the balcony.

“I’ll be there in a sec,” you tell him, resignation thick in your voice.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Chan tells you.

“Well,” you turn to Hyunjin. “Sorry about this, but my aforementioned stupid friend is being stupid, so I have to go. It was nice to meet you, though, and feel free to drink as much tequila as you need.”

“It was nice to meet you too,” Hyunjin says sincerely, not at all bothered by the interruption. “I hope your friend is okay.”

“I hope he isn’t,” you say darkly. 

“Y/N!” Chan’s voice calls, sounding even more anxious than before. 

“Coming!” You sigh, setting down your cup before heading towards the balcony. Hyunjin remains in the kitchen, his eyes glued on you until you disappear into the hazy night.

It is only an hour later, after you have finally pumped Changbin full of water and tucked him into bed, that you come a startling, heartstopping, almost terrifying realization.

You had been too distracted for it to register earlier, but—for the first time ever, when you had been talking with Hyunjin earlier, you had not see his red string of fate. 

[crepe-of-wrath]

Shameless Shouta Scarf Smut Saturday

fourth one in a row

warnings/tags: 18+; bondage; fem reader; praise kink; possessive power dynamics; vigilante Aizawa/eeeeeevil Hero Commission AU to set up the Daddyzawa vibes; people who exasperate each other-to-lovers; Author Reader just wants to be Aizawa's good girl is that really so much to ask?

One month. The representative of the HPSC was on TV explaining that it had been one month since the vigilante Eraserhead had devastated the nation and attempted to undermine the harmony of society by abducting you, [Name], the popular and promising hope of the people and probable future No. 1 Hero.

"Hmmm," said Shouta, who was reclining on the couch behind you, hair tied up, wearing only some sweatpants slung rather low on his hips. "How wicked of me to do such a thing."

You giggled.

In reality, he had saved your life from a bunch of rather low-level villains who should have been easy work for the Hero Commission's new poster child.

But, as he had taken great pains to point out to you back then, it wasn't easy work for you because you didn't know what you were doing. In response, you had hurled at him all the nasty words the HPSC had taught you--bitter man, mediocrity, couldn't even keep a position teaching little kids, reduced to cheap vigilante work.

That had been when he made you the offer. "Show me you have the skills to escape from a 'bitter, mediocre vigilante' like me," he had said, "and I'll let you go and tell all your little friends in the press just how silly you made me look."

It turned out the only mediocre hero in his little hideaway was you. And boy, did Shouta love reminding you of it every single time he bound or tripped you with that goddamned scarf of his:

"Shouldn't you be able to escape, since you're the Future No. 1 Hero, sweetie?"

"Oh angel, what would all your fans say if they saw this?"

At first, you hated the derisive pet names and you hated how he would pick you up, pressing the scratchy fibers of the binding cloth into you, as though you were little more than a bundle to bring back into the house. And you could tell that he hated your lack of awareness and was exasperated at how you just expected everything to work out somehow.

But, slowly, things had started to change. You had become addicted to the white-hot lust that was triggered every single time those binding cloths wrapped around you, bringing you to the ground so that Shouta could loom over you, letting you take in his toned body before hoisting you over his shoulder and taking you back to your "captivity."

As for him, it was little things--your conversations now being punctuated with lots of shared dry humor, him suddenly developing a penchant for regular shirtlessness and wearing his hair the way you liked, the fact that he bough you small gifts and new clothes (skimpy to boot), his gestures like taking the time to make you nice tea--that spoke loudly indeed.

That's why your "escape" attempts had become increasingly laughable and now amounted to little more than "chase me, Shouta, and bind me and throw me over your shoulder and 'accidentally' touch me wherever you want while sternly lecturing me," and why his once derisive pet names of angel and sweetheart were now delivered in such a way that made your thighs slick and your brain fogged.

Although you clearly wanted to fuck one another to oblivion, the only accurate thing the HPSC had told you about Eraserhead was that he was desperate to be Not Like Other Heroes. Thus, there was a part of him that was angry with himself for falling under the spell of the shatteringly beautiful favorite of the loathsome Commission, just like so many other fools, and so, unfortunately for you both, he was fighting himself.

Fortunately, you knew how to read people and give them what they wanted without them even realizing what you were doing. It was the silver lining of your dysfunctional youth, what had allowed you to bewitch the HPSC and the public, and would soon--very soon if you had your way--allow you to complete the bewitchment of Shouta Aizawa himself.

You hadn't realized that this was the one-month anniversary of your disappearance--that was a lucky stroke. It would surely make him think about how awful you had been back then, which would only heighten how sweet you had become for him now. You had even chose to wear his most salacious gift to date, a deep purple tank and boy-short set. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off you, and the way he fondled the binding cloth he kept next to him signaled that he was very ready to chase you.

Since you were, after all, about giving people what they wanted, when his phone surprised you both by ringing, you bolted. You had already decided to put in a bit more effort this time, to really make him work for it and get his blood up. You weren't entirely hopeless--Shouta himself had said all you needed was actual proper teaching--and you did last a good ten minutes longer than usual before one of his deceptions worked and you felt the capture weapon encircle you from the ankles up.

You loved it. It was such a high when the binding cloth wrapped around you, gently squeezing your body, the pinch of the fibers stoking your desire. You made a good show of struggling, especially when Shouta finally walked up to where you lay and stood over your body, straddling you as you writhed.

He shook his head and tutted. "Captured again, angel. What a shame." He plucked you off the ground as though you were weightless, and put you over his shoulder.

You squirmed more than usual, trying to kick up, which had the unintended-but-not-really effect of pressing your breasts into his back. You wanted to claw down the expanse of his back so badly; you had vowed to yourself that this would be one of the first things you did once he finally, finally fucked you. With every kick and wriggle, you also tried to grind yourself into his shoulder. Shouta was no fool and knew what you were doing; he was responding to your wantonness with the occasional spank of your ass and stern commands to stop being so ridiculous.

You knew your scheme had been successful when, instead of taking you inside, he slid you off his shoulder and practically threw you against the exterior wall of the house. "You need to be taken care of," he growled low in your ear. You gently bucked your hips toward him as much as your bindings allowed and whimpered. As he responded with a firm and powerful thrust that made you cry out a little, and not just because you could feel him hardening, he continued. "Those people took advantage of you, threw you out there without any real training, and almost got you killed."

He took his hands off of you, balled them up into fists, and pressed them into the wall above your head. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were as desperate as you had ever seen them. He was so close to giving himself over to what he--and you--truly wanted, but something, whether stubbornness, shame, or some jumble of the two, was still stopping him. You could take it no longer; it was time to give him a little push.

You looked up at him, batted your pretty eyes, and then looked down like a good, shy girl would. "I know, Shouta," you said in your softest, sweetest voice. "I need someone to take care of me." You paused, darted your eyes up and down quickly, and hoped you were as blushing and docile as his heart's deepest desire. "I...I need you to take care of me, please."

His breath hitched. You were almost there. So close you could nearly taste him. "I will be so good for you, Shouta. Just for you, your own good girl, who is so grateful to you for protecting her."

It was at this moment that you both became aware that, because of the way your clothes had gotten caught up in the capture weapon, one of your shoulder straps was slipping. You tried to shimmy your shoulder a little bit. You didn't know if it helped, or if the universe and gravity were just on your side, but it tumbled off, leaving what you knew was a bare, soft, inviting expanse all for him.

That broke the dam. Shouta closed around you so tightly that, even if you hadn't been restrained, it would have been impossible to move. Little sparks moved through your body as first his hair and then his lips brushed against your bare shoulder.

"You're mine now," he said in a hot, clipped whisper between pressing kisses on your shoulder and neck. You couldn't stop your entire body from shuddering in pleasure at having won, and your head fell heavy into his shoulder. You pulled at the binding cloth and whined, hoping that he would release your arms and let you embrace him.

"Not yet," he whispered into your ear. "I still want to play. Don't you want to play...kitten?"

This time, instead of just shuddering from pleasure, you convulsed, and your legs gave way. Shouta scooped you up bridal-style, and your limp body melded into his own. He gently moved the hair away from your eyes as he looked at you in triumph and murmured, "Good girl" into your forehead as he placed a gentle kiss.

You gave him your softest smile as you nestled into the muscles of his chest, more than content to let him think he was the one who won today.